Author's note: So I never thought Hugh Jackman or his character Wolverine were sexy, until the last X-Men movie, when my brain somehow finally connected all the dots. Either way I just had this plot bunny hoping around in my head. Tell me, what you think cause in all honesty I probably won't continue it, unless anyone is really interested. Thanks for reading!

The bell rang signaling the end of the match. A smile flickered on Britain's face as she watched the loser being dragged out of the cage. An overwhelming sense of pride filled her as she looked up to meet the winner's eyes. Childishly she gave him a wave, only for him to snort and turn away. She frowned at this, her hands crumpling the edges of her dark red dress.

Logan was the only man on the planet Earth not effected by her. The only one who rejected her-or worse ignored her. To him, Britain was as alluring as a regular human. Something that both pissed her off and excited her at the same time. While the lack of power she had over him, annoyed Britain for more than one reason….the fact that she could be around a man like a normal girl, was too good to pass up.

Which was exactly the reason why Britain decided never to leave that man's side. Well-that and a couple other reasons, such as the small-okay large part of her that was attracted to the wild man. But really, who could blame her? He was like a gift from the gods with those abs. And that wild feral look, Logan had going on with his messy hair and untamed facial hair drove her insane.

"Gentlemen, in all my years, I've never seen anything like that." The announcer called out. Behind her, the large crowd watching began to shout. It reminded Britain a little of those wrestling shows, where the bad guy was always announced before some underdog taking him on. The thought made her snort. Some guy beat Logan in a cage fight? That would be the day.

"Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?!" the announcer challenged, pointing towards her companion.

He hadn't moved from his spot against the metal wall. Not even to look to see who would be dumb enough to challenge him. No…he played it cool, gulping down a glass of water as his eyes occasionally glossed over her. While Logan wasn't mad for her like all the other men were, he didn't hate her either. At least Britain didn't think he hated her. After all, he allowed her to travel with him…even if it was after a few months of stalking and annoying.

"I'll fight him!" A cry came from the left of her. Naturally Britain turned her head to see who stepped up to the challenge. A tall burly man came running to the cage. To somebody who didn't know better, it would seem Logan had met his match. However Britain knew better, Logan was going to crush this guy.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our savior!" The announcer cried.

Britain couldn't help, but snort loudly at the declaration. Our savior, her ass. The man looked like a mean drunkard, if she ever saw one and she saw plenty. Logan smirked as if having heard her snort. The smirk only widened upon hearing the announcer's warning to the opponent. No below the belt-it was legal, but unwise. Especially since any guy to chance it with him, ended up in the hospital.

The bell rang indicating the start of the match. Britain gave him one last smile, before the opponent swung at him. Logan took each hit, falling as he did. The crowds' cheers grew louder, thinking that he finally lost. Yet again, Britain knew better…he was only putting on a show for them.

Two more kicks to the abdominals and Logan was through playing games. Kneeling upwards, he swung a fist in time with his opponent. Their knuckles met in a hard smack. The distinguishing sound of metal on bone rang through the air. Instantly Logan was on his feet. A fierce look dominated his face. Play time was over. With two hits, his opponent fell unconscious. The bell rang yet again, ending another fight.

Another proud smile crept onto Britain's face. He always won, so why the hell did she always get giddy about it? "Ladies and gentleman, tonight's winner and still king of the cage, the Wolverine!" the announcer declared.

An uproar of booing and cheering filled the room. None which he cared for. Unlike other men, Britain knew, he didn't revel in the praise or grew angry at the insults. He simply didn't care what anyone thought-one of the many things, Britain loved about him. He never let anybody or anything define himself, but him.

"You know better than to wear dress in a place like this kid." A familiar voice chastised, drawing Britain from her thoughts. She looked up to see him looming over her, cigar fastened tightly between his lips. His chest glistened with sweat from his fights. "Especially a dress like that."

Britain rolled her eyes and stood up. Giving him a purposeful look, she smoothed out her dress. It was nowhere as inappropriate as some of her other dresses. In fact barely any skin showed in it-not that it mattered much. No matter what Britain wore, she'd always have issues. "It's Britain, not kid. I am twenty-three, legally adult throughout every country in the world. Besides, I have you here to keep me safe. So, what the big deal?" she replied, winking at him.

His chocolate colored eyes narrowed at her. "I ain't your bodyguard, kid."

"Of course not, where would the fun be in that?" she teased, caressing his chest. Uncontrollably her lips twitched into a seductive smirk. It would be a lie to say a part of her didn't enjoy having power over others. That there were times where Britain enjoyed the frenzying need of men to have her, just as much as she hated it. Times were she wanted nothing more than the male species groveling at her feet. Logan at the front of them.

"Stop it." Logan ordered, clutching her wrist. "You know your power doesn't work on me, so don't even try."

She blinked, the lustful feeling vanishing-almost as if he broke a spell. Instantly Britain pulled her hand away from him, cradling it guilty in her chest. Her eyes wandered downwards, refusing to look at him as heat rose to her cheeks. This wasn't the first time she tried to seduce Logan. Let alone the first time she attempted to use her powers on him. Ever since he rejected her about a year ago, Britain wanted nothing more than to make him, hers. And that urge was not always controllable. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to." Britain apologized.

Despite Britain's desire to claim him, her words were true. Making Logan love her through mutant abilities was not on Britain's list. She wanted him to lover her on his own. Just like how ordinary people fell in love. "I'm going to get some water. I'll meet you at the bar." Britain said, shamefully.

However before she could move, Logan's hand found her wrist again. Panic flooded her as Britain froze in place. Was he mad at her? Did her uncontrollable urge finally go too far? "Calm down, Britain. I'm not mad at ya." He assured, his thumb brushing her hand. "I just wanted to tell you, I get it."

And with that, the fierce Wolverine disappeared into the bathrooms to clean up. Britain felt her lips twitch into another smile. His words meant a lot to her, whether Logan realized it or not…whether he truly got it or not. Just hearing some semblance of understanding truly meant the world in her eyes. Cause no one else in her life had even try to understand Britain's plight. Shooting one last glance towards the bathroom, Britain headed towards the bar.

She found a spot in front of the television, next to a strange girl wearing a green coat. Their eyes met for a second, before the girl quickly looked away. 'Runaway,' Britain thought, pulling one of her many lipsticks out. 'Really young too. Then again I was only fifteen when I ran.'

"You want something new, honey? Or are you sticking with water?" the bartender grouched, pulling the tip jar out of her reach.

Asshole.

Britain snapped her lipstick shut, placing it back into the small purse she carried. Her hand came out, slapping two twenties and her ID onto the counter. The bartender looked up from the glass, he was polishing and cocked an eyebrow. "Vodka straight-grey goose." She ordered, "Oh-and a Shirley Temple for the Miss next to me."

"Thank you." The girl mumbled, as the bartender placed the drinks in front of them.

"No problem." Britain replied, throwing her shot back. She grimaced, enjoying the fire burn sliding down her throat. There was nothing better than the fiery burn of vodka. Nothing, not even sex could give her the pleasure vodka did. It was an instant relaxer-as well as a memory eraser, if she drank enough of it. And boy did Brit want a memory eraser, right then.

"Watch it, kid. I don't need you getting sick in the back of my camper again." Logan's voice came from behind. He sat down next to her, eyeing the empty shot wearily. It was only one time, but once was more than enough for Logan. Besides a woman like Britain shouldn't be drinking in the first place. She was small and a lightweight. More importantly though, Brit's mutation was a magnet for every pervert on the planet Earth. Her being drunk would only make things worse-and Logan was in no mood to kick any unnecessary ass tonight. Looking at the bartender, Logan threw a ten down. "I'll have a beer."

The bartender nodded, his eyes passing over Britain and the girl beside her. Subconsciously Logan's followed suit, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. When it came to men and Britain, it was better to be safe than sorry. As stated before, the poor woman was a magnet for perverts, whether she wanted to be or not. They just all seemed be drawn to her. A flash of anger ran through him at the thought of some perverts pawing at the woman. Logan knew she was used to it. He also knew Britain was used to a lot worse than she should be. Touching wasn't always enough for those bastards, Britain once confessed, sometimes they wanted to feel inside her as well.

His grip tightened around the bottle, threating to break it. Any man who even coped a feel at his companion, would lose more than just their hand. Luckily his thoughts were quickly diverted by a loud news report on the television. "Ellis Island once the arrival point for thousands American immigrants is opening its doors again." The newscaster announced. "Preparations are nearly completed for the upcoming United Nations world summit. With nearly every invitation confirmed; the event promises to be the largest single gathering of world leaders in history. The leader of over two hundred nations will discuss issues ranging from the world's economic climate and weapons treaties to the mutant phenomenon and its impact on our world stage-"

Britain's hand found his thigh at this, fear evident in her eyes. He glanced at the TV, taking in its words. Mutant phenomenon, it made them sound like a bunch of sideshow freaks. "Logan." Britain murmured, as the newscaster continued.

Logan made no move to comfort her, his eyes were locked onto the girl sitting beside Britain. In the last ten minutes, she had stared at them as if knowing what they were. Moreover, she stared at them with the same fear as Britain. Their stare lasted only a few seconds as Logan glanced back to the front of the bar. He was well aware of the heavy footsteps walking towards him. Within in seconds someone tapped him on the shoulder, instantly all thoughts of the mutant debate left him. Nothing good ever came from someone touching him.

He turned slightly, to see his opponent from earlier glaring down at him. "You owe me some money." The man stated.

"Come on, Stu. Let's not do this." His friend dissuaded only to be shot down.

"No man takes a beating like that without a mark to show for it." Stu objected.

Logan rolled his eyes, turning back to the bar. Besides him, Britain tensed. Her normal soft flowery scent flooding with fear and adrenaline. Fights were never a good thing for neither of them. He gave her a side glance, telling her to stay put. Despite the words of wisdom from Stu's buddy, Logan already knew the outcome of this talk. And it was best that when fists came flying, Britain stayed out of the way. "I know what you are." Stu whispered, in his ear. "And I bet that girlie next to you, knows as well."

"You lost your money. Keep this up, you'll lose something else." Logan warned, not moving from his spot.

Stu's friend began to beg louder and Logan prayed Stu had half a brain to listen to him. As big as a dump this town was, Logan made quite a lot money here. If he and Britain were forced to run elsewhere, Logan couldn't say he'd be pleasant about it. Suddenly the sound of a knife being drawn rang in the air. The girl next to Britain screamed a warning. Without hesitation, Logan whirled around, pushing Stu into a beam. His claws extended outwards pressing ominously against Stu's throat.

Logan froze though, feeling the barrel of a gun against his head. He turned slightly to see the bartender behind him, holding the weapon. The usual look of fury and fear on the man's face. Another mutant hater, go figure. "Get out of my bar, freak." He ordered, finger on the trigger.

The bartender's threat did nothing to startle him. This wasn't the first time some asshole threatened him. No, what really worried him was the look of fury on Britain's face. Nothing good came, when she wore that expression. His mind raced for a solution-some way to stop her, before Britain lost it. "Put the gun down." Britain demanded, her voice like velvet.

A sigh escaped Logan-too late. Anything other than the bartender's surrender would end in violence-or in Britain's case something much worse. "I'd do what she says bub. You don't want to see her, when she's angry." Logan warned.

"I'm not putting anything down, especially not because some mutant freak like you-or your slut told me to." The bartender growled.

And there it was…the straw that broke the camel's back. Asshole called her a slut, the one name which never failed to rile her up. Instantly Britain was on her feet, hips swaying in a slow sultry motion. Those dark orbs of hers shined with mischief as a wicked smirk appeared on Britain's face. Suddenly everything about Britain was more attractive than usual. A soft swore escaped Logan as he noted the abrupt change in Britain. Her abilities didn't work on him. She couldn't make him fall to his knees or mindlessly follow her around like a lost puppy. None of that applied to Logan, so why couldn't he move to stop her? More importantly, why were his pants tightening suddenly?

"Slut? Now if there is anything I hate to be called it is slut. You can call me whore, bitch, cunt-really whatever what you want," Britain murmured, her hands running across the bartender's shoulders. Logan watched as the fearful look on the man turned desperate and lustful. A growl emanated from Logan's throat as the scent of arousal filled the air. "But not slut."

Slowly the bartender lowered his weapon, turning to gaze at Britain like a fish out of water. He reached out palming one of Britain's dark locks in his grimy hands. She sent him an encouraging smile, her hand moving to stroke his cheek. Silence filled the room as everyone watched-eyes focused on her. Touching people was the best/most sure fire way for Britain to arouse; it didn't even have to a full on touch, Brit could accidentally brush against someone and cause them to lust for her. However, touch wasn't the only way for her to control people. Sometimes just her standing there, brought people crawling to her…like now. "Britain, stop. It's not worth it." Logan said, his voice hoarse.

She glanced at him. Her eyes blinking as if not fully comprehending that Logan was there. Something rather likely with the state Britain was in. In Logan's experience, Britain was never Britain when using her abilities…rather someone else. Someone crueler and wilder, who reveled in their mutant ability rather than fear it. "I won't kill him, if that's what you think." Britain muttered.

"I know." Logan assured, retracting his claws. He turned to look her fully in the eye. "But it's not him, I am worried about. You know better than anyone, how fast this situation can go awry, kid."

Britain scoffed, "Like it already hasn't?"

"I haven't had to kill anyone yet for touching you. However if you keep this up, I can make no promises." He replied, watching the bartender. The man was now rambling about how he wanted to fuck Britain. Every word escaping his mouth nothing, but pure uncensored filth. It was Logan's first sign, that this all had to stop-now. Or asshole here and lord knows who else, would attempt follow through on that filth.

Glowering, Britain removed her hand from the man's face. With one last scowl, she spun on her heel and walked out the door. Logan followed keeping alert as he did. Although Britain released her hold on the crowd, her mutation didn't. In fact it would be a few days and a couple of cold showers, before any of these folks got over their obsession of Britain. Until then, they were just as dangerous as they were with her hold.

"That was a stupid move, you pulled there." Logan chastised. Britain ignored him, continuing her path to the truck. He growled, latching on to her wrist. With one short tug, he pulled Britain to him. "Hey! Don't ignore me, kid. Do you realize how far that old man was from taking you right there?"

"He wouldn't have touched me-I was in complete control of him." Britain dismissed, pulling away.

"Right, cause him talking about how nice your cunt would feel around him, is in control." Logan snapped.

She sent him a scathing look, before moving towards the truck again. An angry growl escaped Logan as he stalked after her. The damn woman liked to think that silence was an option when fighting. Anytime Britain lost a fight, she'd immediately clam up and proceed with silent passive-aggressive techniques. Which when it came to passive aggressive techniques Britain reined queen. Unfortunately for her, Logan never cared enough to let her minor slights work.

"You know, you can pull that passive aggressive bullshit all you want, but it won't change the fact that I am right." Logan muttered, slamming driver side's door. Another scathing glare sent his way, to which Logan easily shrugged off as he lit a cigar. "I mean it, Britain. You need to be smart about such things. You have zero control over your powers-"

"I'm not four, Logan. I don't need you to act like my father." Britain grumbled. "Especially when all I wanted to do, was back you up. You do it for me all the time and you don't hear me complaining."

"You know damn well, why I don't want you backing me up, Brit." Logan replied, his tone softer. He glanced over at her to see shame written all over her face. It was a perfect imitation from the expression on her face earlier, when she tried to use her powers on him. If it were anyone else, Logan wouldn't believe it. Britain was an exception though. She was always a fucking exception for everything. "Don't start crying, kid. You know how I hate it when women cry."

A flicker of a smile flashed on her lips. "When have you ever seen me cry?"

"Never." He admitted, glancing at her.

Not once in their travels together did Logan ever see Britain cry. No matter what the reason or situation was her eyes remained dry. So dry that Logan sometimes wondered with endurance was another power of hers. After all, he knew firsthand of the trials Brit had to undergo. Most he was able to save her from. But there were a few times, Logan arrived too late…he swallowed hard at the memories. Those times were rare, but when they did occur Logan knew he would never forget them. Forget the emotionless expression on Britain's face as she tried to fix whatever torn clothing survived the assault. Ignore the overwhelming scent of blood, pheromones, and body fluids all over the room, he barged into. Or forget Britain's calm tone, telling him not to kill her rapist for her mutation brought the worse out of the best of men; though Logan did always return to beat the crap out them, when she was asleep. No one was allowed to touch her after all. Mutation or not. She was his to protect.