"I love little girls
they make me feel so good
I love little girls
they make me feel so bad
When they're around they make me feel
Like I'm the only guy in town
I love little girls
they make me feel so good..."

- "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

---

In the end, it was the eyes that pulled him back. The redhead was a dish and that couldn't be denied, but it was the big dark eyes staring up at him as he tried to slip out and disappear into his old life that haunted him. The lost, abandoned eyes that spoke to the rootless lonely center of Logan's soul that hid behind the shelter of the intractable and independent Wolverine.

But it wasn't just the doe-eyes, or the trust lurking in them, or the fragility that demanded protection by the mere wondrous fact of its existence - though all these things were there, and made not just Logan but the Wolverine as well want to pick her up, steal her away, carry her somewhere hidden and tuck her away there safe and warm and sheltered from all the cold and cruelty lurking in the world waiting to diminish and destroy all that was beautiful and worthwhile.

There was more to the package than just the eyes - and quite a package it was. The day he left Westchester was the first time he'd gotten a real look at her body, since all the times before she'd been hiding under that overcoat or he'd been too distracted by a life-or-death fight to be giving her a once-over. She had innocent little-girl eyes - but the rest of her didn't look that innocent, or that little-girlish. Young, yes... But too young? There lay the question...

And Jeannie had said she was "taken with him." He had blown the statement off at the time, used it as an excuse to get in a bit more of the flirtation he had been amusing himself with. Clearly Red hadn't thought it was anything more than a little girl crushing on "her hero." But in the long dark nights after he left New York, the words came back to him, along with the big eyes and all the rest of her, well after the memory of red hair and long legs had faded into the endless procession of frequently-enticing but interchangeable females he had occupied himself with over the course of his remembered years. The big dark eyes hadn't faded, nor had the all-too-few memories of her he had from their brief but eventful association. And as the dark eyes - and many other bits of her that he hadn't gotten nearly as good a look at - continued to haunt waking thoughts and dreams alike, he realized that there was only one thing that made sense for him to do.

So he headed back south to Westchester, much sooner than he had ever planned on returning. Time to go see just how "taken with him" she might really be...

Oh, sure, she was untouchable. Aside from the skin issue, there was the fact that she was under the ridiculously high American age of consent. But there was touching - and then there was touching. Could be there were ways to get around that quirky mutation of hers, were she willing to experiment with him...

* * *

"Do you feel the power
From the man whose voice sounds reassuring
Completely firm and so alluring,
like he's lived a thousand times before
And seen the world from shore to shore
With the calmness and tranquility that oozes credibility
With the wisdom and the confidence that seem to scream out common sense
And it makes you feel just like a babe Daddy holding you tight and safe
Hush babe everything's all right,
Daddy's gonna stay with you tonight..."

- "New Generation," by Oingo Boingo

* * *

And so here he was back at Chuckie's, even allowing himself to be talked into taking a "job" at the school, giving self-defense and combat lessons and maybe even getting nudged into taking over the PE classes on general principles. He tolerated it, because it gave him a reason to be hanging around a school of all places, and because of the way little Marie's eyes had glowed when she first saw him back under Chuck's roof. If Jean was right about the "taken" part - and she being a telepath and another female, he was willing to concede that she probably could tell if that were the case - then it hadn't worn off while he was gone.

He thought she might have been dating a little while he was off doing his thing. Nothing too serious - surely, hopefully - with her mutation acting as de facto chaperone. But that Snowball kid had definitely been sniffing around her. The Wolverine warned the punk off, told Marie to let him know if the kid bothered her any.

Jeanie thought it was cute - said to Scott in Logan's hearing (not realizing that it was within his hearing) that Logan had been acting like a protective father. Scooter wasn't too keen on the Wolverine, no sir, but he did allow that it made him feel a bit better about Rogue to know that she had someone looking out for her in particular. Not that the X-Crew didn't cherish their youthful charges - but with so many kids and so few adults, there was only so much time and attention available to be spread amongst them all. Rogue being something of a "special needs" case, having an adult giving her a lot of quality time was only to her benefit.

Even Wheels seemed approving of the attention Logan was giving the girl. Only Storm looked a bit apprehensive on occasion, watching the pair of them together.

As for Logan, he could have laughed at the "protective father" part of the description. Except that sometimes, with Rogue cuddled up next to him in front of the TV late at night in her long nightgown and wrapped up in a blanket - [Like a little girl with her "security blanket,"] he thought to himself - well, he had no family that he could remember, and it felt really good to have something small and helpless nestled up against him trustingly. He had never been much on the idea of having - starting, rather - a family, but at times like this he could sense the appeal of the concept.

Someone young and fragile, trusting him to teach and protect, love and support, not fearing the claws or temper or capacity for sudden shocking violence. Someone to love and admire him, and to remind him that not all in the world was cold and calloused, tarnished and empty.

At times like this, with the little girl drowsing against his shoulder, he could let his attention drift from the TV and contemplate a possible future of homework and family dinners, driving lessons and college classes, teaching his little girl how to defend herself in every possible way and keep the harshnesses of the world from breaking and defeating her. In this mood, he didn't even mind if, half-waking, she absently called him, "Daddy..."

And then she would shift position - a firm but still small breast pressing against his arm or side, or a sleeping hand absently laid in his lap - and be subtly transformed from innocent little girl to still-innocent-but-also-desirable young woman. And suddenly paternal was the last thing on his mind, as he would recall all the thoughtful ways to evade her mutation in the attainment of mutually desired release.

And he would remember her reaction when he had stepped in to chase off that Bobby kid. Not the ire, wounded pride, or frustration one would expect from a girl denied her lover by an overly defensive father. Rather, a little gleam of pleasure, lurking in those eyes, as of a woman pleased and flattered by the jealous reaction provoked from her lover.

And he would resolve to start testing the waters, once she waked and they were alone together...

* * *

"They don't ask me questions
They don't want to scold me
They don't look for answers
They just want to hold me
Isn't this fun
Isn't this what life's all about
Isn't this a dream come true
Isn't this a nightmare too
I love little girls they make me feel so good..."

- "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

* * *

"You can touch me, if you want. You can practice on me."

And she knew, if she truly had his thoughts in her head - and he could tell that she did, oh yes, when she growled at him fetchingly, when she responded to the words he hadn't spoken aloud, when she knew of things he had never told her - why he really wanted this. Why he wanted her touchable, free for the taking - but only his taking. Why he wanted her to have none other but himself - in her mind or in her body. Why he wanted her to have his thoughts in her head - no new presences to crowd her mind, and his voice loud enough to drown out or drive off the men or boys already in there.

Why even though this would be teaching her - giving her something to protect herself and make her life more joyous in the living - he intended lessons that no father should have the giving of.

And she accepted all this with a smile that fit oddly on such a young face, making the eyes suddenly those of a woman grown wily in the ways of love, knowingly accepting the bait proffered in the trap while preparing an entrapment of her own for the hunter. And she touched him, linking bare fingers with his or stroking his face, and she curled herself against him as he lay draped across his bed recovering from her draining caresses, and when he had recovered she touched him again.

As time passed, the touches grew longer, bolder, lingering and caressing in regions less chaste than hands or face. And he became able to return the touches as her control grew, until their "practice" sessions were less about simple skin-on-skin contact and more about foreplay. When she became less likely to merely lie at his side draped across the bed, and more likely to kneel astride him. When kisses - long, deep, intense kisses - became an accepted part of their "practice." When clothing began to be removed, exposing more skin to be pressed against and caressed.

But all this was in the privacy of his own bedroom, or mayhap in the front or back seat of a car taken off the school grounds for some errand but parked in a quiet layby for some secluded togetherness before returning to the X-Mansion. In public they were almost well-behaved, adoptive father and putative 12-year-old daughter - and if they were a bit more physical in their affection than most fathers and pre-teen daughters, well, he was one of the few who didn't fear falling victim to the Rogue's rogue power, and she needed to take her touch where she could get it.

Jean might have had an inkling of the truth of the matter, having spotted Rogue's attraction to her gruff savior so many months before. But Jean was caught up in the romance of being caught between two very desirable men - for Logan, enjoying the bedevilment of Scott as much as he ever had, made a point of continuing to aggressively and publicly court the other man's lover. Scott, incensed by the Wolverine's lack of respect (and secretly fearing that Jean might eventually be swayed by the other man's attentions), worried so about Logan's obvious attraction to Jean (and her subtle reciprocation of the feeling) that he failed to even consider the possibility that Logan might in fact have romantic designs on another. Xavier, caught up in the dual pressures of mutant politics and school administration, was too occupied with keeping half a hundred balls in the air at once to be able to spare a great deal of personal attention for each and every individual student. The squeaky wheel was the first in line for a dose of lubrication, whereas the obviously contented student with her own readily available surrogate parent clearly needed the least attention and supervision.

Only Storm saw the way the pair clung to each other, and wondered; noted the way little Rogue reacted oddly to having her would-be boyfriends driven off by her father figure, and pondered; considered the unusual amount of time a tween was spending with a parental type rather than with her own agemates, and worried.

But with nothing more to go on than her own suspicions, she said little. Only once did she start to delicately raise her concerns to Jean - but Jean, still wrapped up in the magical idea of being The Only Woman the Wolverine Wanted, managed to miss the import of Ororo's remarks about how devoted Logan seemed to be to Rogue. "Isn't it sweet? You can tell he'd make a wonderful father..."

Ororo suppressed a shudder and went to see Scott. Unfortunately, he put his foot down and said that _Lolita_ was inappropriate reading material for a high school English class. Frankly, she didn't give a damn whether the class read it or not - she just wanted Scott to read it. She settled for running by Blockbuster and picking up the movie instead. The remake, with Jeremy Irons - Jean being a fan of his, Ro was hoping that between the casting and the classic-novel-adaptation aspects, she'd be able to tempt at least one of the other adult X-Men to watch it with her. She left the videotape resting atop the TV in the rec room while she went looking for some of her fellow mutants.

* * *

"There's nothing to be scared of. You just gotta... think about it like... the first time you got laid. You just gotta go, 'Daddy, are you sure this is right?'" - Rebecca, _Tank Girl_

* * *

"What's with the video?" Marie asked, spotting the familiar blue-and-white Blockbuster case lying on Logan's dresser.

"Some joker rented a movie I don't think anyone here needs to be seeing," he answered with a certain grimly humorous quirk of his mouth.

"_Lolita_? Hmm... You've seen it? It's that bad?"

"Not bad, but I just think we're better off if no one around here goes watching a movie about a guy who's got a thing goin' with his 14-year-old adopted daughter..."

"Hmm..." Marie gave him a teasing look. "Good thing I'm still twelve and not fourteen..." Kicking off her shoes, she crawled onto his bed and rolled over onto one side, giving him a coquettish look and patting the coverlet at her side invitingly before stripping off her gloves.. Logan didn't need to be invited twice. As he settled himself next to her, she unbuttoned the top button on her shirt, and then the next, and the next, while eyeing him sidelong. "And good thing you're not my father."

"He wasn't her father either. He just told people he was so they didn't ask questions about what he was doing running around the country with a little girl...," he answered distractedly, watching the tempting areas slowly exposed by the deepening V at the neck of her shirt. She stopped unbuttoning at her navel and with an elaborate air of absentmindedness slid a hand into her own open garment, stroking playfully while watching his eyes following her hand.

Abandoning the conversation, he leaned down for a kiss, while following her hand with his own. Finishing the job of opening and untucking her shirt, he began kissing his way down her throat and into the regions thus exposed. She wrapped her arms around him, tangling fingers in his hair as he began to nuzzle at her breasts. Slipping an arm around her, he raised her enough to reach the clasp at her back and undo her training bra, pulling it down far enough to reveal more pale skin and rosy nipples before disentangling her arms from shirt sleeves and bra straps. Nipping, licking and suckling, he alternately teased one side and the other, while she murmured, cooed and gasped.

Sliding a hand down to her knees, he raised her short skirt (worn for just such an occasion as this) and began stroking up her tights-clad inner thigh towards a region of extreme interest. When he reached it, she moaned and opened her thighs farther.

He stroked, caressed, fondled and rubbed, noting with delight how no warning tingling pull developed in the velvety skin his cheek remained resting against. Even as she whimpered, arched her back and bucked her hips beneath his hand, her control remained unbroken. When her shudders ceased and her breathing eased, he shifted position, rolling to his back and pulling her against him, bringing her lips down to his for a kiss. She responded with more than interest, lips parted and tongue eager.

Wrapping a thigh across him, she slid a hand down to the bulge in the front of his jeans and began rubbing, before reaching for his zipper. Freeing his erection, she began rubbing firmly up and down along the shaft with a bare hand. He closed his eyes, pressing his face against her neck, and thought about the things he had been saving for when her control reached the level of unconscious maintenance. Rumbling eagerly at thoughts of fabulously naked activities between the sheets, he reached a rapid climax when he realized that at least one thing could be tried out almost immediately.

He kissed her throat, then her lips, before rolling over to open the drawer in his bedside table. Never being sick, he only kept a box of tissues in his room for one purpose. He handed a few to Marie to dry her fingers with, before saying, "You did that perfect, baby. Didn't slip up once." She gave him a slightly puzzled look, and he clarified, "With your skin, earlier. Not even a tingle." At her look of startled realization, he smiled, before adding, "And I think that deserves a reward..."

"A reward? So I've been a good girl?" she asked with a smile that rather belied the 'good girl' aspect.

Reaching up under her skirt again (which was still rucked up to her waist), he found the waistband of her tights and smoothly peeled them off. Tossing them to one side, he lovingly ran his hands up her bare legs.

"A very good little girl," he agreed, reaching her pale pink cotton panties and beginning to stroke her through them, then slipping his fingers inside through one leghole and caressing areas greatly unused to the touch of another's bare skin. She gasped, a little startled and a lot delighted, digging her fingers into his shoulders and parting her thighs further.

It wasn't enough. He withdrew his fingers, and when she sighed in disappointment he caught her eyes. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he began slowly pulling them down, watching her closely for any signs of objection. Satisfied that she was nervous but willing enough to take this next step, he slipped her underwear down her legs and off completely, tossing the little garment to one side.

Leaning in for another kiss, he ran the fingers of one hand slowly up her inner thigh, tracing gently towards his goal. He felt her quiver when he reached it, silken damp hot and trembly, and began lightly running his fingers back and forth, stroking here and caressing there, without quite following the same delicately maddening path twice in a row.

It still wasn't enough. Gently removing his other arm from beneath her shoulders, he moved from her side to between her legs in a rapid fluid shift of position. It startled her so much she half sat up, and he put a hand against her bare belly, gently encouraging her to lie back down. "Trust me?" he asked her quietly, and after meeting his gaze for a moment she silently lay back and closed her eyes, surrendering willingly.

Stroking his hands upward along her inner thighs, he leaned down for his first real taste of what he'd been dreaming of for months. She bucked slightly in surprise when his tongue first touched her, then relaxed into the attentions as he nuzzled, licked and teased. He dipped his tongue into her where her scent was strongest, memorizing the salty heated taste while she whimpered. Shifting his focus to her clitoris and seeing how loudly he could make her moan, he slipped first one and then two fingers within her where his tongue had just been, rubbing in and out gently. Feeling her beginning to tremble, he moved his fingers faster and began alternating sucking with delicate nibbling, until she cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, tightening around his fingers in an uncontrolled rhythmic spasm.

Disentangling himself from her legs and giving his fingers a surreptitious lick, he concentrated on the smug feeling in an attempt to distract himself from what he really wanted to do now, which had absolutely nothing to do with getting out from between her thighs and everything to do with moving a few feet upward along his girl's body. Settling himself at her side and attempting to ignore his renewed erection, he placed a hand on her belly, rubbing thoughtfully up and down while her breathing calmed.

When she had come back to herself, she dreamily opened her eyes and met his. "Does this mean that I have to stop calling you 'Daddy' now?"

He chuckled, a trifle unsteadily. "Sweetheart, you can call me anything you want."

She smiled impishly. "My, Grandma, what big teeth you have!"

"Except that."

"And Grandma, what - pointy hair you have!" He growled softly. She giggled. "And my, Grandma, what a big - " she broke off, reaching down for something impossible to miss, Logan's jeans not having been rezipped. The growl returned in a more positive note as she took a firm grip and began to rub. "I could make a few comments about baskets of goodies at this point - "Then she slid down alongside him, concluding, "- but I think I could be doing better things with my mouth right about now..."

The growl was replaced by a startled noise as she took the tip of his penis into her little mouth, then returned and began to alternate with plaintive whimpers and the odd yelp as she began shifting randomly between licking, sucking, and tongue swirls while continuing to slide her hand up and down his shaft. Feeling him beginning to tense beneath her and move his hips, she took him as deeply as she could and was rewarded by his hoarse cry. She continued rubbing a few seconds past the rhythmic quiverings within her hand and mouth, then pulled away with a final nuzzle and zipped his jeans back up.

Moving to sit beside him, she grinned at him wickedly from behind her tousled hair. "Daddy, was I a good girl?"

Still breathing heavily, "A very good girl."

"Take me out for ice cream now?"

He laughed. "Anything you want, baby."

Logan grabbed the video on the way out. Might as well return it to Blockbuster while they were in town, rather than risk having someone find it in his room...

* * *

"So you sit around in school, taking in all the jailbait sashaying around in front of you. Hey - nobody's blaming you. We all got urges, right?"

- Zero Girl #4, by Sam Kieth

* * *

Storm's attempt to educate through video having failed due to the mysterious disappearance of the required tape, she next resorted to speaking directly to Xavier. The Professor was as usual very busy splitting his attention between classroom and Congress, but for a long-time student noted for her level head and clear thinking he was willing to spare the time to hear her concerns, however unwarranted he might at first find them.

And unwarranted he did indeed consider them. Ever willing to give the benefit of the doubt and extend his trust to his fellows (human and mutant alike), he was unwilling to act to interfere with a relationship that seemed so to the benefit of two lonely people who each in their own ways deserved better from Fate.

But he also recognized in Ororo a keen observer and perceptive judge of those around her, and so did not dismiss her concerns out of hand. Instead, he took a compromise position by agreeing to watch the pair more closely and to step in if - and only if - further investigation indicated that outside intervention was desirable. Storm, trusting in her mentor's ability to get to the bottom of the situation and unsure of her own suspicions, was happy to leave the matter in his hands for the present time - but privately resolved to nevertheless continue to watch the oddly close pairing.

After Storm had left Xavier to resume his work, he chose to begin dealing with his latest responsibility by interrogating his other former pupils, feeling that if Ororo's observations were accurate then the others should be able to provide corroborating evidence.

What he heard - and more particularly, what he sensed - from Scott and Jean dismayed him. Each in their own way proved to be so fixated on the concept of Logan's attraction to Jean that neither was willing to properly credit the idea of him having designs on another female. Charles had been dismissive of Ro's concerns in large part because of his belief that an unhealthy relationship would have been noticed by more than one person in such close living conditions. Recognizing his own preoccupations and Scott and Jean's biased perceptions, he came to the shocked realization that Ororo had been the only adult paying attention to the form Logan and Rogue's association seemed to be taking.

None of which actually confirmed Storm's fears. But the possibility that her concerns were valid had suddenly become much greater.

Beginning to worry, the Professor called first Jubilee and then Kitty to his office for separate interviews. Questioning them delicately, ever-mindful of the necessity of not spreading unpleasant rumors should Logan's intentions towards little Rogue prove to be respectable, he looked for any hints that the Wolverine had behaved in an improper fashion with regard to Rogue or any other young female under the X-Mansion's roof.

What he heard reassured him. Individually and independently, the girls closest to Rogue and Logan stated their beliefs that Logan wouldn't really do anything to harm any of the students (bruises earned in combat lessons aside) and that he and Rogue clung together because of mutual interests and a shared need for surrogate family. Both girls approved of the relationship, although Ms. Lee expressed the opinion that 12-year-old Rogue would greatly benefit by spending time with a few presentable males closer to her own age as well as with her adopted father figure. Xavier noted this opinion and his own agreement.

Dismissing Kitty, he considered the matter, if not exactly closed, then at least of less immediate concern. He would keep a closer eye on the pair in the future, but for the moment they seemed well-suited to each other's company.

Had the Professor known that the panties removed from Rogue the previous afternoon were now residing under Logan's pillow, he doubtless would have had a very different opinion on the matter.

* * *

"Uh oh take a second take
Uh oh it's a mistake
Uh oh I'm in trouble
Uh oh the little girl was just too little
Too little, too little, too little..."

- "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

* * *

Ororo's attempts to attract attention to the pair regardless, Logan and Marie continued in much the way they had been. The ante on the bare-skin contact having been so satisfactorily raised, the pair spent a number of very enjoyable afternoons getting well familiar with each other's more intimate tastes. Not much more than a few weeks afterwards, things moved on to the next step and Logan finally got to start using the condoms that had been lying in wait in his bedside drawer.

Things were absolutely blissful.

Which of course meant that they were long overdue for some bad news.

Their luck finally ran out, ironically enough, while they were in the process of getting extremely lucky.

Jubilee, looking for her friend (and, not so incidentally, some free help with her math homework), logically chose Logan's bedroom as the third place to look. She was in the hallway approaching the Wolverine's door when she first thought she heard a cry.

It sounded suspiciously like, "Oh, God, Logan!"

Well, nobody expected the Wolvster to be a monk. And it wasn't too surprising that the lady of his choice seemed to be greatly enjoying herself.

Overcome with prurient curiosity, Jubilee crept closer. Possibly she could identify the chick - the voice had sounded almost familiar... Which X-Grrl had managed to snare the Wolvmeister?

"Oh, God, yes!"

Closer to the bedroom in question, the voice was clearer. Jubes frowned with dawning suspicion. That had sounded almost like -

"Oh, Daddy, fuck me harder! Harder! Oh, Daddy, yes!"

Standing directly outside Logan's door as she now was, Jubilee could no longer deny whose voice was coming from within. Pale and shaken, she very carefully tiptoed away, hoping against hope that Logan had been too distracted to notice an eavesdropper's presence.

Had it been Scott, or Jean, or perhaps even one of the other adults, who had overheard the couple, they very likely would have flung the door open on the spot, denouncing the Evil Seducer and attempting to separate the pair immediately. Logan being Logan (and engaged in an activity he would very much prefer not being interrupted in), bloodshed probably would have been the immediate result - but at least matters would have been brought out into the open and dealt with, once and for all.

Jubi being much less cursed with a sense of responsibility, she slunk back to her room and brooded over the matter, leaving her algebra problems untouched while she considered who (if anyone) to tell. She had enough sense to dismiss the idea of telling Scott immediately, and Jean without much more thought. Between Jean's not-so-hidden attraction to Logan and Scott's overt rivalry with the man, either one would most likely react by trying to toss him out of the X-Mansion on his ear. Xavier she thought about a bit longer, but she didn't expect his response to be much better, and she feared Ororo was likely to take the news straight to the Professor.

Really, she didn't think either of the pair should actually get into trouble over what they were doing. Rogue had gotten royally gypped in the mutation department, and if she was hooked up with the guy she'd been in love with since two days after having met him, well, she deserved a bit of compensation in her life. Okay, the "Daddy, fuck me harder!" was a little creepy, but at least she sounded genuinely happy...

Kitty beat Rogue back to the room - unsurprisingly, if Rogue was still helping Wolvie give the mattress a workout - and Jubes spilled her guts. Kitty was frickin' smart - if there was something they should do, she would know.

Kitty looked wide-eyed at the news. "That's what the Professor was asking about a few weeks ago, when he wanted to know if Logan treated us and the other girls 'properly.'"

"So he sort of already knows?"

"If he really knew, he wouldn't have been asking. He just suspects."

"So should we tell him? Or someone else?"

"I don't know... Give us a few days to think about it, and see if Rogue looks like we need to tell someone."

"Maybe not - she sure sounded happy enough with him..."

"Hmmm..."

When little Rogue slipped back into the room later that night, as quietly as she could and without turning the light on, Jubes woke just enough to check the time on her alarm clock. Nearly 2am - well past junior curfew and lights-out. Well, if Rogue was managing to get enough sleep elsewhere, and wasn't having a problem getting up in time for class in the morning, Jubilee certainly wasn't going to be the one to gripe at her...