My Momma is a funny woman. If I was sad, she'd get me a cup of tea. If I broke my leg, she'd get me a cup of tea. I'm sure if I'd stuck around long enough, she'd have given me a cup of tea after suckin' David dry too. I bet he gets a cup of tea from her when he wakes up. It's not just Momma though, it's everyone. If they can't handle something, if something's wrong, it's always to the tea. I can never understand it.

I'm sitting here in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a piping hot coffee mug, and I can't believe the fucking week I've had. I look up at Wolverine, his eyes half-lidded and weary, his hands also clasping a mug of the all-healing brew we always seem to blame on the British. I'm thinking about the things that have happened, the huge mindfuck of events that's just left me completely brain-dead and zonked, and I wonder - why am I here, sipping this hot beverage like it's a nice summer afternoon and I'm talking to my mother?

Hank insisted on patching up Logan, smothering him in plasters and gauze. He's sitting there probably totally healed, with white patches all over his hands and head, tainted with the deep red of his blood. His blood is an amazing colour. Just - very powerful, reaching. I guess that's a silly thing to say about blood.

See a few days ago, Sabretooth was curled up on our front doorstep like a lost kitten, all beaten up and shit. I mean really really in a bad shape. My first instinct was to kick him off the step and thwap him over the head with a spade to put him out of his misery. Kinda startled me, thinkin' so violently when I remember bein' horrified to see Logan in that damned cage. Then when Logan said exactly what I was thinkin', I realised "Shit Marie, you're startin' to think like him now?"

I don't know why, I had an inherent distrust for this guy deep within my bones. And I saw that distrust in Logan's hazel eyes, flashin' and fierce.

Uv course the Professor started on about how we all gotta look after everyone, even our enemies whether they be human or otherwise. Logan wasn't a stupid man. Rugged, impulsive, but not stupid. He'd helped Senator Kelly when he turned up in a bad state, so he wasn't one to hold grudges. No, he seriously didn't want Sabretooth here.

And that's when it all started.

They brought Sabretooth in, and the guy was passed out. I had to marvel at the very structure of the guy. He was damned huge, with these hands that spanned my shoulders when they were stretched out, and he towered over Scott, I'd seen it. Scott was no shorty.

Anyways, Jean brought him in, layin' him down in the infirmary and gettin' to work on him. Apparently he'd been beaten up pretty bad, with some deep cuts and lascerations. I snort with disbelief, at the exact same time as Logan, and everyone stares at me.

That starts freaking me out. That I'm having these automatic reactions all of a sudden to a guy I don't even know, apart from being herded about by him up the Statue of Liberty. I cut off those memories, concentrating on the situation at hand.

One thing I get away with that the other kids don't, is taggin' along. Dunno why the Professor lets me in on this stuff. Something in his eyes is sad. Maybe he knows I'm not much use for anything but fightin' evil, cause o' my skin. I mean tryin' to be out in normal public was a real stress on me. Like walkin' on a tightrope.

The next thing that worries me is the look in Logan's eyes as Jean is fixin' up Sabretooth. For once, it's not lusty (God he can be such a slut, starin' at her then goin' doe eyed at me) and it's actually angry. He gnashes his teeth at her.

"Why the hell are we fixing this dick up?"

"We help everyone Logan," she said, injecting something into the unconscious beast-man's arm, "We helped you."

A low growl grew in Logan's throat and he stalked out. Not far though, I could sense him pacing on the other side of the door. Plus he smashed something out in the corridor, I could hear it. And to freak me out even more, I completely understood what he felt. That shuddering rage was living in my insides too, and I had never felt the like in my short life. I wanted to rip this guy apart limb from limb. He hurt Logan, I knew he did, I wanted him to pay. Stupid thing was - how the fuck would I know? The memories I gained from him are cloudy at best. The impulses however, are crystal clear. That can scare me, and comfort me. It's an odd combination I'm learning to live with.

"He might have a point for once," I feel myself say, the rage rising up in me, "He's tried to kill Logan. He'd kill me in an instant. And you."

Jean looks up at me, her brown eyes placid. Those damned beautiful eyes that I could feel myself swooning at days after Logan entered my mind. I hated that.

"Do I have to say it all again?" she said, "You should know better, Rogue."

I let a derisive smile flit to my face. She never says my real name. Like she's scared to or something.

"He'll just try to destory us," I said.

Jean frowned now, looking a bit disturbed, "Well, we'll just have to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Turn the other cheek?" I rise a brow, "That's cool if you wanna get pinned to a tree, Ah s'pose."

She just sighed now. "Do I have to send you out too?"

I shrug, "If you want."

Shaking her head she got to work at checking Sabretooth's blood pressure with a black bobbling sphigmanomometer that looked more like a crazy kids toy than a serious doctor's instrument.

"Ah get the message," I sighed, "Ah'm leavin'."

She gave a small smile, pumping the rubber sac of the sphigmathingy.

"Go check up on Logan, make sure he hasn't broken anything expensive?"

I pouted, "Why is it every time Logan has a hissy-fit you always send me out to calm him down?"

Jean looked up, an amused quirk to her lips.

"Well who do you suggest we send out - Scott?"

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled in my embarrassingly thick accent. She just smiled at me all affectionately and I burned up with even more embarrassment as I plodded out of the infirmary. I saw the heavy leather uniform cases down an offshooting corridor as I'd walked past. All the glass doors were broken, and there were three precise gouges that ran all the way down the corridor walls... down, back, and to the elevator. I sighed at the empty but damaged corridors, mumbling to myself.

"Logan, you know the Professor is just gonna take away your cigar privileges."

That also freaked me out. I had hankered for cigars for a while. Unlike Logan, I don't heal instantly, so I stayed away from 'em. He stared at me funny when he had one wedged in his mouth and I looked at it longingly.

"You even pick one up and I'll kick your ass," he'd say.

Needless to say, I've not tempted the thought again. Still doesn't stop the odd craving every now and again. I follow the trail of destruction (rather minimal this time really - he stayed away from the priceless paintings and antique vases. Obviously he was short on cigars and beer) to a honed but hulking shape ripping up perfectly manicured grass in the garden. I approached him carefully, sinking down onto the grass, a couple of metres in front of him, just watching him rip and dig and growl. Shit, he was really mad.

Finally, after a moment of rage, his hazel eyes flashed up at me and he stopped. The sod that caked his hands, the grass that lay littered on his shoulders sat there not unlike the snow I'd first met him in, but it looked infinitely more ridiculous. He looked like a big stupid dog going nuts in the garden after a bone. I wanted to laugh, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to push that 'Always protect me' promise he made. Not when he was in this mood. He looked over himself, a wry look on his features and cocking an expressive brow, he held out his arms as the haze of his rage receded.

"I look really stupid, don't I?"

I didn't smile, I didn't frown. I just let my lips twitch in a look of empathy.

"Yeah."

His hopeful eyes dimmed a bit and he sank.

"But I know what you're feelin'."

He narrowed his eyes then, as if he wanted to believe me, but needed more to go on. I gave it to him.

"It's not stupid to feel betrayed, Logan," I said, "You gave your trust to these people, and believe me, Ah know how hard that can be."

He looked down to his muddy hands, muscles in his forearm clenching a little.

"They're suddenly helping someone you saw hurt them," I continued, giddying in the effect of my smooth voice on his obviously prickling nerves. "And you're scared they're in for a disappointment."

"Not scared," he said, voice a low growl, "I know they're in for one."

I felt a dent touch my brow and I nodded, "I do too, Logan... I just wish it weren't true."

He looked at me a long moment, and I think he did know. And looking at the flit of colour in his eyes, the tense of his lips, he was well aware that I understood, that hidin' shit from me was pretty much useless. I watched him stand, giving his arms one rough shake before trudging off, mud slinging into the gouges in the lawn, his eyes catching sight of the green snake of hose and began following it to it's end, probably to wash his hands with. I did laugh this time.

"I'm gonna get this shit off my hands," he grunted.

Yeah, see, that was scary. I knew him too well. Sharing a psyche with Logan was one interesting experience, I'll tell you that for nothing.

---

For the next two days, Logan barely left Sabretooth's side, and it wasn't for touchy-feely-fuzzy-love reasons. His eyes were sharp and unforgiving, as if he were just sitting, waiting for an excuse to slit the bastard's throat. I knew that's exactly what he was doing. The only time he wasn't in there, was when the Professor was having private sessions with the dude, probing his mind, trying to help him free his 'better traits' and take a step towards redemption. Logan said the perfect step to redemption for Sabretooth was a bullet between the eyes. Needless to say, Xavier told him to piss off till he was finished. Not in so many words but you know what I mean.

Timing was something this asshole mustah had down pat, cause the next day was the day of Magneto's trial. I mean they locked him up an' all, but they had to give him a full trial and stuff. Ya'd never guess who was payin' for his defence... that's right. The new reformed 'Senator Kelly'.

Everyone was goin' off to see the trial, all the X-Men that is, except me and the youngin's, and Wolverine. He stayed behind, next to Sabretooth, eyes fixed to the downed beast-man. I think I was supposed to stay behind to watch him. They knew I was the only one that could stop either of them. Ironic, huh? Little Ol' Marie, their line of defense.

S'anyways. Borin' night. I'm tellin' you - it's the kids watchin' Friends on the TV, Jubilee howling about how much she hates Rachel, Kitty screamin' for her to shut up cause she's trying to listen to what's being said, and Bobby and John grunting over the fussball table. Yeah, everything's normal there, right? Yeah.

So I go down to keep an eye on Wolverine for a minute. Not the most labourous task, and if I'm completely honest with myself, a guilty pleasure I'd gotten to enjoy the past two days. I'd just stare at his neck and lips, sometimes his eyes. I know I know, he's too old, I'm too young. Tell my loins that - they don't care. Sometimes I dare to think neither do Logan's, but we've been over this - he's a complete slut sometimes.

To my surprise, he wasn't there. No, I'm talking REAL surprise here. He hadn't left Sabretooth's side all day. So I sat there in the chair he'd been sitting in. Still warm, and I could still smell his spicy cologne. For a moment, our scents kinda mingled, where he'd been and I now sat. I wallowed in that sensation a moment, of strawberries and hot spicy aftershave, totally immersing myself in it. Of course being so caught up in sniffin' out Logan I never noticed the sheet-swathed hand as wide as my shoulders that shot up out of it's restraints, breaking them like paper. I did notice it encircling my neck and pinning me up against the wall, the other hand seeking out my gloved arms and pinning them to my chest. He grinned, teeth bear and pointing.

"Don't want you touchin' what you shouldn't now!"

His hand tightened around my throat. I'd often seen people being strangled in the movies, on tv. You think that maybe it'd be like holdin' your breath. Nuh-uh. I learnt pretty fast it was like something was gonna break, and pressure, so much pressure. Sharp pain stabbed through my neck as his hands enclosed around my larynx. Even if the windpipe is lined with gristle to keep it open, it was bendin' closed, my tongue falling back and betraying me. I kicked, struggled, tryin' desperately to remember self defense stuff. All the use it did me. My body screamed for breath and panic ripped through me as my eyesight began to grow fuzzy and my fingers began to tingle. And I thought 'So this is it. I am going to die.'

"I'm gonna kill you all," he said, "One by one, usin' only three claws."

It was a really odd thing to say, but it all sank in. The guy was tryin' to frame Logan. With what little strength I had, I drew up some spit, and with a jerk of my head I let it fly... er... kinda. It went for about two inches then dripped harmlessly on Sabretooth's sleeve. He wrinkled a felinesque nose and tilted his head.

"That's grotty."

I tried to kick - and was really close to passing out. Then I heard the most amazing sound in my life. It's crazy I know, finding something like this so awe inspiring, but you never know what it is to be a living breathing animal till something like this happens.

There was a roar of complete and utter berserker rage. A rough, throat-stripping roar and a clean 'shink' of metal against metal, popping through skin. And that anger, rage, fury and awesome display of power was all for me. Okay, so it was ego coming in to play, but it was also awe at what a superb effective machine Logan could be. I saw the flash of his blades and relief swept through me as the hands grabbed the towering shoulders, ripping the wayward mutant away from me. He didn't let go of my neck and I tumbled down on top of them. I felt kinda silly in the writhing jerking pile of mutant bodies, and I could see Wolverine scrambling underneath us, waiting for me to be clear before he let loose with his claws. I growled, fingers digging into the barrel chest I was stuck on top of. And I did the first thing that occured to me.

I tickled the bastard. I yanked at his fur, I scratched and ripped and dug. He just - laughed at me! Conventient distraction though, because as I staggered away, Sabretooth giggling inanely at me, long shiny claws punched deep into the ribcage, the eyes of Sabretooth glazing over.

Wolverine looked up at me from under Sabertooth as I wriggled off the guy, feeling a bit sick inside at the sight of those claws so deep in somebody. His eyes were wide, wild with worry.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Ah'm fine," I breathed, running my hand over my throat, "I'm probably gonna get some major bruisin' though."

He grimaced, it was almost a smile, and rolled the unconscious Sabretooth off him.

"You can say it's a hickey."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Very funny, Logan."

"Sorry," he growled, and with a grunt he buried his claws back into Sabretooth after crouching over him. I looked horrified.

"Logan - Ah think he's dead!"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I threw this fuck off the top of the Statue of Liberty onto a patrol boat. He lived. He's a superhealer like me, Rogue."

I nodded, tilting my head at the guy.

"What're you gonna do, sit there with your claws in 'im till everyone comes home?"

He pressed his lips together. "You got a point."

I smiled grimly and nodded.

---

"Back!"

"Uhuh..."

"Back back back - stop!"

I winced, grappling the huge hulking weight of the unconscious Sabretooth in my arms, his wrists crossed and tied together over his chest. Logan took the most of the weight through the man's shoulders, and he lifted the body, whilst I lugged the legs.

"Man Logan, this guy reeks!"

Logan flared his nostrils at me pointedly. "Tell me something I don't know."

I let go as Logan plomped him down onto a medical bed, his claws still dug into the bigger man's ribs. He grit his teeth, looking at the situation that presented itself. Tilting his head, he regarded it, and I almost felt amused at the deep look of concentration that fell across his face. He glanced up at me and sighed.

"You might wanna turn away."

I nodded, turning my head and closing my eyes. To be honest, I was a little worried, my heart freezing. I knew what he was going to do. It was something I couldn't watch, and I knew it was also something Sabretooth wouldn't be recovering from any time soon. I heard his claws slide out of the ribcage of the downed man with a muffled shink, and silence. A long silence, calculating and tense. I heard his arms shift suddenly, and I squinted my eyes hard.

"LOGAN!"

I jumped and whirled about, he did too, our eyes wide and catching the two figures in the doorway.

"Jean!" I stammered, instinctively stepping back to Logan, "Professor..."

The Professor's thin lips were pursed together, his usually bright blue eyes darkened in disappointment. I hated having that look directed at me. I'd come to love this man dearly, and that dour look of disatisfaction - it ripped my heart out. I slumped, looking to Logan, who just had a grimace of determination on his face, his bloody claws in the air.

"Don't try to stop me," he said, "I'm just givin' this bastard what he deserves!"

"He deserves to die?" snapped Xavier.

"He was gonna kill me!"

The resounding yell echoed off the walls, and I could hardly believe it came from me. It stilled Xavier, his lips paused mid-word. I stepped forward, shakily I admit, yanking the scarf from around my neck, and tilting my head up. I could smell Jean drawing closer, then glancing down over my cheeks I could see her face descend into a frown. She walked over to her examination table, digging around in her drawers.

"Every second we wait, this guy is healing," growled Logan.

"With those deep gashes, I'm sure we have plenty of time," Jean said.

"We don't."

She glared up at him, then snapping on the gloves she retrieved she walked over to me, tiltin' up my head again. She took a careful breath in, I could feel the air rushin' against my neck.

"Well, she does seem to have some bruising coming up..." She pushed around my throat and I hissed in pain.

"Watch it, Jean!"

"Sorry," she said. She frowned, then looked to the Professor. "This happened in the last fifteen minutes. Logan - come here."

With a grimace he did so, and she took his hand, holding it up to my neck. I froze, feeling the warmth radiate from his palm. His eyes were wide, kinda soft. So greeny-brown. I kinda let myself get lost in them for a moment. I just gazed at him as Jean spoke to the Professor.

"See, Logan's hands are too small for these marks. It was definitely Sabretooth."

Logan's lips were tense as he gazed back at me, a strange look in his eyes. His nostril flared, and I knew he'd picked something up. I felt it too, dunno how, but as I saw something move in the corner of my eyes, all speech failed me. My jaw hung open, waggling as I squeaked lightly.

"Luh luh luh-"

SHINK

I slammed shut my eyes as Logan's arm whipped behind him, and as a sickening splatch followed I knew what had happened. Easing open an eye, I felt my insides shudder.

Sabretooth was impaled on Logan's claws, bent over. I saw Logan gnash his teeth, and he yanked up his arm, the splatch of before stretching into a squelch, blood overflowing from the wound and splashing on the floor. I gasped and jumped back.

"Logan!" barked the Professor, "Stop!"

"Not this time," snarled Logan in a breathy tone, "Not after nearly killing Marie."

"I said STOP!"

A tense pause filled the room, and I could see Logan's muscles quivering as he held the claws inside of Sabretooth. With a roar he pushed the hulk of a man away from him, making sure his claws did some damage on the way out. Sabretooth collapsed against the wall of the infirmary, and being completely unconscious and mortally wounded, slid down the wall onto his back, leaving a rather interesting three-dashed pattern on the wall. Jean rushed forward, and I shook my head, disbelief filling me.

What would it take for these people to realise what bad news Sabretooth was?

"Logan."

There was a crisp control to that voice that made Logan stop dead in his tracks.

"What you have done is inexcusable."

I glared at the Professor now, anger welling up within me. I stepped forward, pointing to Sabretooth.

"That son of a bitch was going to hurt the other students, Professor!" I let a lip curl in anger, "What's more important? This bastard who's hurt and hurt and hurt without any remorse, or those kids in there just tryin' to give lafe a go?!"

The wrinkle of anger and determination in the Professor's brow grew deeper, and he didn't move. I could feel Logan's shocked eyes on me. I don't think he realised how much of him was in my head. If there was any doubt before, it was obliterated now.

"I am - very disappointed," Xavier said, "But I understand. Those memories inside of you, they were created in bias, Rogue. Logan's point of view is that bias."

That wild defensiveness flashed in me and I clenched my fists. I could sense Logan's peaking anger.

"I trust Logan," I said, evenly, "With my lahfe. Seein' as Blondie over here was goin' to rip me to ribbons a moment ago, I think it's a bias I can live with believin' in."

"Why are you tryin' to protect him?" Logan said suddenly to Xavier.

Professor Xavier glared up at him, his lips firm, "Because his psyche, his mind... it reminds me very much of you."

Logan's eyes widened and I think he was offended.

"He has memories that very well could be a key to your past."

Logan's eyes lidded suddenly, and he clenched his fists.

"If it's my bad memories, or the lives of those kids - I'll choose the kids anyday."

I tried incredibly hard not to swoon. He kinda looked at me funny as I sighed.

"Logan - perhaps it's best if you stay in your room for the time-being."

It was then a laugh burst out of me. I don't know why, I just tipped my head back and laughter just fell outta me. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't fucking believe it.

Xavier paused, a deep worry in his brow, "Perhaps you too, Rogue."

"Whut for?"

He gave me a soft smile, "I'd prefer you and Logan didn't have to deal with Sabretooth, I can see it's deeply traumatic for the both of you."

I nodded and looked to Logan, who just seemed incredibly worried for me. Well, he didn't have to be worried for me. Mostly Jean - she was alone in the room with the superhealing mutant guy. Somehow I don't know if the multiple hari-kiri slicin' bode well for him though. We'd saved the school for the time being. I hoped.

---

I spent all of five minutes in my room before I got bored and sought out Logan's. I loped down the hallway, imitatin' him to a point, a grin of excitement growing on my features. I had to wonder when the hell I got so feral. It was just so much fun, and it shocked Logan. I loved seein' that look of surprise on his face. It usually calmed to a growly look that just got me giddy. Of course then I could just turn around, wiggle a hip and grin and he'd be just as useless afterwards.

"Rogue! What're you doing?!"

I jumped a mile in the air, bad swears fallin' from my lips. I turned, seeing a rather shocked lookin' Bobby.

"Hi," I smiled thinly.

"I heard about what happened with that Sabretooth guy," he said, his voice almost squeakin', "Are you okay?"

I shrugged, cocking a lip, "Yeah I'm fine."

He smiled, nodding with some relief. "Good."

I nodded.

"So um - aren't you supposed to be staying in your room?"

I gave another thin smile. "Yes. Yes I am."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "You're gonna get in trouble you know."

"Not if no one tells anyone that I've been out," I said pointedly.

He sighed, "Sure. Where you off to?"

I froze. He probably wouldn't be so genial if he knew I was off to annoy Logan for a while. I smiled brightly now.

"The little girl's supplies closet!"

He blanched, a lost smile on his face.

"Oh - okay... uh... I'll let you get to it then."

"Thanks."

He kinda hurried off, and so did I, right in the direction of Logan's room.

"Rogue!"

I whirled about, anger bubbling in me. Bobby stood there, that blank look on his face again.

"The ladies supplies closet is um - that way." He was pointing in the other direction.

"Ah know."

He nodded, and I went in the direction of Logan's room anyway. Gawd, the guy was such a geek sometimes. I snuck up the hallway, letting my feet pad silently, hands skimming the wall. I grew very slow and still as I reached his door, crouching and holding my breath. I let my hand reach out silently, a thrill in me as I thought that he could be just lying there, and I could surprise him.

CLA-CHUNK

The door swung open abruptly and my heart nearly burst in my chest, my legs going AWOL underneath me and scampering till I fell on my butt. Great. Logan stood in the doorway, cocking a brow at me, an amused smirk on his face.

"Girl's deoderant is one of the most potent unnatural smells that exist. Did you know that?"

I shook my head. He reached a hand down, and I took it, letting his easy strength pull me up to him. Dang he was so dreamy. Dropping my hand he turned, plodding into his room, letting me close the door behind us. He just sat on his bed, picked up the newspaper and wedged a cigar he'd obviously been smoking back between his teeth. I watched his lips wrap around it, and mentally berated myself again. I was so gone on this guy, it was scarin' me. I sat down on the edge of the bed, fidgeting. He didn't ask me what I was doing here. He didn't even ask me how I was. He just read the stupid newspaper. I frowned, an impatience growing within me. I risked my neck getting here, and even blew off Bobby so I could spend some time with a fellow inmate, and he ignores me completely.

I traced the contours of my glove for a while, watching the shine of the brown satin in the dim lamplight, but it soon got boring. I stared past my splayed fingers, watching the smoke waft up from behind the wall of newspaper.

"What're you reading?"

"The newspaper."

There's a news flash. I pulled off my gloves and looked over my hands. My nails were growing longer now they were shrouded in the gloves constantly. With a lot of embarrassment I noticed a bit of dinner under one nail. I picked at it, a light flicking noise filling the silence.

"Stop that."

I glanced up, seeing one of Wolverine's eyes peering over the edge of the paper. I stopped, pulling on my gloves again, watching him as he pulled up the newspaper once more. I let my gaze wander around the room, taking in the scenery with some dull boredom. The need to spice up this little visit was rustling in my stomach, and went ballistic when I spotted the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

I slid to my feet, striding over to the mirror, and with deliberate and languourous movements, I pulled off my sweater. I glanced to him in the corner of my eyes - no nothing yet. I pulled off my tight baby-tee, leaving me with the thin stretchy singlet underneath it that didn't hide much. I pouted, stretching my body and tiptoeing in the mirror. I lifted the hem of the singlet, and stuck out my belly, tilting my head and regarding the sight before me. Well, I was a streamlined little thing, and I let inches and inches of my midriff show. It was then I heard the paper rustle.

"What're you doing?"

I pouted thoughtfully at him, tilting my head, "Logan - do you think I've put on weight?"

One brow lifted to meet a cocked one and he shook his head with wide shellshocked eyes, "No, Marie. I don't."

I frowned, plodding over to him and lifting my singlet practically in his face, "Are you sure?"

I worked so hard to hide the frantic giggles welling up inside of me when he glared up at me like I was completely insane. The laughs were on the brink when he crossed his legs uncomfortably in the bed. Then they died, and I got a little hot under the - well I had no collar. So it was hot under the singlet I suppose.

"Marie, I'm sure. You have not gained a pound."

He looked back to the paper. I pursed my lips. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Shift up," I said, easing his heavy shoulders forward with a gloved hand. He glared at me again, looking rather puzzled.

"What are you doing?"

"You're tense," I said, kneeling behind him, his back between my legs, "I'm gonna give you a massage."

Not the subtlest come on I know, but this guy was really dense. Then I kinda startled myself - since when was this me coming on to him? It was like mah hormones made the decision before I did. I blushed brightly, then grinned. Well, while I was here...

"I don't need a massage," he grunted, sitting forward anyway.

"Yes you do," I said, "After all the fuss tonight, I think you deserve one."

He was still tense, and he looked back at me, a green eye glinting with dryness.

"Look," I said, planting my hands on my hips, kind of amused that his face was just about at the level of my breasts, "I used to give mah Poppa a massage all the time when I was younger. Now stop bein' a baby and relax!"

I forced his head forward, secretly revelling in the scratchiness of his stubble against my gloves, and began kneading his shoulders thoroughly. He was silent a moment, till he grunted.

"You think I'm your Poppa?"

Now I had to giggle.

"Hardly. My Poppa don't have your ass."

Shit. He glared at me, and I blushed wildly. All I could breath was-

"Your trait. Trait from you. Your fault."

He gave an uncomfortable nod and looked back to the paper. It took a minute or two before he relaxed into the massage, but it worked like a dream. After a little while, I was layin' against the bedhead, huge fluffy pillows cushioning me, hands roamin' all over Logan's chest and shoulders whilst he read the paper, layin' against me, my legs splayed either side of him. His hand flicked and the paper went flying onto the floor. I barely registered it, I just gazed at the ceiling, complete serenity taking me.

For some awful reason, my brain didn't let me keep serenity. If ever I was happy, the reality of who I was would come back to haunt me. It was always at these moments I'd think of the woman I'd accidently absorbed a few months back. Logan had only been back about three months himself, and now I suddenly had this self crisis of some loony mutant bird in my head. Sometimes she popped out, and I'd display some of her tendencies. It scared people, but when I was happy, she'd be dead. Right now, she was at peace within me. I think she appreciated having some happiness to digest.

I looked down to Logan, who just lay against me. I saw his arm dig underneath him, then behind me, and I felt something pull. I sat up a bit, and he did too, and he pulled out - a pillow? He regarded it a long moment, a glint in those hazel eyes that alerted me. So I did what any self respecting young woman in my situation would do.

I grabbed my own pillow and thwapped him fair across the side of the head.

"OOPH!"

Of course, I'm not any self respectin' young woman. He went flying into the wall and there was a resoundin' crack.

"Logan!"

I jumped off the bed, runnin' over to him, jiggling his shoulder. He lay on the ground, slumped, his eyes blinkin' all funny.

"It's okay, it's okay," he grunted, rolling forward stiffly, "It was the wall, not me."

Surely enough as he came forward, a lighter coloured crack had splintered the wood-panelled wall. I swore under my breath, smacking my forehead.

"Holy shit," I sighed, "The Professor is really going to KILL me!"

"It was an accident," he said, "It happened two days from now, when you fell over getting me milk."

I looked up to him, meeting his eyes. He was smiling with them, a cheeky look on his features that made this lightly aged man look about as young as me. I grinned suddenly, and with a whoosh a white wall of pillow slammed into my head, tumbling me over. I fell over onto the ground, giggling wildly.

"Rogue, 1, Wolverine, 1."

"You're gonna pay for that, Logan," I drawled, gripping my own pillow and jumping to my feet.

We stalked each other in circles, lips tense and grinning, eyes glinting with clues and false intentions. It took only a second for us to be locked in a writhing pile of limbs and bodies, his pillow pinning me down across my chest as I beat mine over his head. His normally neatly combed hair was a fluffy mess and it was driving me wild.

"Stop that."

I giggled. "No!"

He growled at me, bearing his teeth.

"Ooh, you scare me so much, ya big animal!"

He glared at me, "Are you mocking me?"

I sniggered, "What do you think?" I thwapped him over the head again.

"That's it!" he roared, throwing the pillow he had over his shoulder, grabbing mine and sending it along with the other one, and grabbing my wrists. Okay - I hadn't forseen that one. He pinned them down either side of my head, his nostril flaring as he glared at me finally. A giggle lifted and died in my throat, those eyes so damn close to me, starin' right into me. I felt my breaths all too clearly, his warm body that pinned me down pressing against my ribcage that shuddered from my heart doin' a jig. I swallowed, an anxious smile on my face.

"Logan?"

His eyes narrowed affectionately, looking over my face. "Mmm?"

"Think quick."

He barely had a second to brace himself as I spread my legs and clasped him between my thighs, flipping him over. I rolled upright, pinning him down in the same fashion he had me, except my legs clasped his firmly.

"D'ya give?"

He snarled, "Never."

I bounced firmly on him.

"NnuuuNNGH!" he groaned as a breath was forced from him, "That ain't fair!"

"You give?"

"No. NUNGH!"

"I'm the Queen."

"No you're not NUNGH!"

I rose a brow at him. "Two words, Logan!"

"Marie- NNGH! I'd stop that-"

"Yeah what're you gonna-"

I stopped. I looked down, between my legs where I straddled his hips, then back up at him. I gulped.

"Oh."

He blushed bright red. I looked away, my hands pulling away from his wrists, and he sat up.

"Marie."

I looked to him.

"You have to get off me now."

I felt my lips curl up in a grimace of need, "I do?"

He blushed again and nodded, "Yeah."

"Okay."

I slid off him, letting him crawl up onto his bed, looking a little battleworn. He shot me a tired glower.

"You're gonna do me an injury one of these days, girl."

The 'girl' hit me and I felt sick. What the hell was I doing? The only reason he doesn't like me thinking of him in a Daddy sort of way was the age thing. He adored Jean, I felt it within me, and I was foolin' no one but myself trying to think in any other way. I curled up against my knees on the floor, gazing at the broken wall sullenly. I felt damned stupid.

"Marie..."

I didn't look at him. I'd behaved like an idiot tonight, I was damned embarrassed.

"Hey."

Okay, he was going to be persistent. I dared to turn my head and look at him. Of course, like always, his face was still and betrayed nothing.

"Put your sweater on and hop over here."

I nodded, pulling on the soft fleecy material and crawling onto the bed next to him, his hands pulling me down next to him. I felt strange as he let me sink down against him.

"Logan?"

"Mmm."

I swallowed, nervously, "It's okay. I know you like Jean better. She's prettier than me, and she's all stylish an' stuff. I understand."

There was a silence, and I just gazed at the ceiling, feeling the rise and fall of his chest underneath me.

"Jean - Jean is pretty. Very very pretty."

I nodded, trying to quash the resentment that grew within me.

"She looks like the girls in the magazine," he said. He was sounding very matter of fact.

"And Ah don't."

I was nervous, my accent was as thick as molasses. When I spoke, I thought I felt him shudder.

"No."

Disappointment splashed through me.

"Ever seen an old painting?"

I shook my head, looking up to him. He glanced down at me gruffly, tilting his head and gesturing with a hand.

"Well, go to the gallery some time. Xavier has a few that I haven't ripped up yet. They got these ladies in them. Like um - Titian."

I frowned. He was talking wierd.

"The ladies in them - people devote their lives to looking at them. They spend thousands to own an image of them - just a painting. Cause they're so real, they're so vivid and intimate."

I nodded, my heart finally shuddering back to life.

"That's you. With your eyes and your lips and your hair. Always beautiful, no matter what."

I smiled, breathing so lightly, clutching him to me.

"People throw out magazines," he said finally.

A soft laugh took me and I gazed up at him, holding onto him, "Thank you."

He snuffled ruggedly, settling down with me, "Never mind. Just remember it, 'kay?"

"Always," I smiled, nuzzling my face into the soft flannelette of his overshirt. We sat there a long while, just enjoying the silence like before. He closed his eyes, his body relaxing. With an excited rush I realised he intended on me stayin' here. Pulling up a blanket I got comfortable, wrapping myself in a sheet to make extra sure I didn't hurt the sweet lunk of a man. As I finally lay down, his arms wrapped around me as he was half asleep, a possessiveness in the movements that rocked me to my core.

I fell asleep very happy that night.

---

Of course, I'm Rogue. Life's a real bitch to me, and it doesn't do me any favours without throwin' a few curveballs to keep me on my toes. I wouldn't have minded so much, but this particular curveball was SO ridiculous, so incredibly gory and so perfectly, wonderfully DAMNING, that in any other situation, it would have been laughable. Right now, it was not laughable.

What woke me was Logan jumping up out of bed, my support whipping out from underneath me. I blinked, turning on the lamp, realising he must have woken up again and made himself comfortable. He was shirtless, and standing stock still next to the bed, claws extended and glinting in the dim light.

"Logan-"

"Shhh!"

It was then I heard it. 'Dump... dump... thudump...'

"Those are footsteps!" I whispered. Logan nodded quickly, finger to his lips to silence me. I felt like I was stuck in a corny urban legend or something. Except instead of a car, I was in my crush's bedroom, and it wasn't his head being smacked on the roof. Okay - I definitely had to get more sleep.

Logan tensed, grabbing my arm, and the door-knob shook as someone fumbled with it on the other side. We crouched, alert, and glared as the door blustered open with a collapse of thumps.

Tall blonde bloody mutant with gaping abdomen filled the doorway, and I took a frightened gasp in, the smell of the guy evading me. He was rotting, I could smell it. His body just wouldn't let him die.

Wolverine growled in warning, hand clutching mine. Cold black eyes regarded the shiny claws a moment, and Sabretooth gnashed his teeth with amusement.

His lips fell down over the sharp mandibles, and something went out in his eyes. I could almost hear the wind whistling as the seven foot of almost-animal keeled over in front of us with a loud 'FWOOMP' that shook the room. My eyes darted to Logan, fear in them.

"Logan-"

"Shh."

I was sick of him shooshing me. He pressed his lips together, then gnashed his teeth at me, worry in his features.

"This isn't good."

"No shit, Sherlock."

He frowned at me and let go of my hand. I couldn't help but eye his naked chest a moment whilst my brain tried to sort itself out. This was all too weird.

"What're we gonna do?" I sighed, "There's a dead guy in your room."

His eyes met mine with a black scowl, "I know, Marie."

My face fell flat all of a sudden as something occured to me, probably about the same time as it occured to Logan. We glared at each other, our mouths falling open.

"Jean!"

---

So we ran. Ran like the fucking wind. Then I remembered I could fly if I wanted, and attempted sailing down the corridors. I kept bumping into walls cause I wasn't thinking though, cause I've only been flying a little while. Logan kept bleating out my name every time I did it, and it took all my control not to tell him to piss off cause it was so damned embarrassin'.

We reached the infirmary pretty fast and we burst inside, the trail of blood that had led to it clear as day.

"JEAN!"

I flinched as his voice rang out, bouncin' off the walls. There was a clatter, and we raced in, seeing the white medical coat wrapping the Doctor as she reached up to her tray, blood staining it with a vibrant hue. I could see Logan's eyes grow wet with pain, and I thought maybe he might keep this magazine for a while, for the articles.

"Jean," he said, runnin' to her side, propping her up.

"No," she croaked, "Don't touch me! Haem- haemorag- KEAH!" She coughed, "Pooh-mee down Logah, you'll hurh me."

He nodded, laying her down carefully.

"Get Scott. Now."

Logan jumped to his feet, grabbing me roughly and pulling me over.

"You look after her!" he growled.

Without another word he raced from the infirmary, leaving me with Jean.

The silence was daunting. I looked down to Jean, pulling back her coat and shirt, frowning through the fresh tears that had surprisingly sprung up on my face. I frowned, my heart lurching as I saw three deep gashes on her belly. Not too deep, but deep enough. I pulled her coat back over it again, gathering spilt gauze and pressing it over the wounds.

"Good," nodded Jean, "Good."

I smiled weakly at her.

"I'm sorry."

The words came as a shock to me, and I blinked, looking to Jean. "What on earth for?"

"Doubting you, and Logan," she rasped, "Sometimes you have to look after the ones you love."

I nodded, a sadness in my eyes. I watched her a moment, as her eyes fluttered shut, and a panic rose in me.

"No, wake up Jean," I said, patting her face gently, "Wake up."

"Hmm?" She twitched her head, eyes opening slowly, "Blood loss making me tired."

"Ah know," I said, "You can't sleep sugah."

A smile flitted onto the woman's face, and it warmed me somehow.

"What were you doin' still up?" I asked her, trying to keep her awake, "Doesn't Scotty need you to keep him warm at naght?"

A wry grin fell across the older woman's face, "I'm a doctor first."

It said all I needed to know. Working late again. I jumped, the door bursting open behind me, the panicked steps of Scott skidding to a halt next to me.

"Jean!" he gasped, cradling the woman's face, "Jean -"

"It's okay -" she swallowed, "Get - ugh - get Hank."

"He's here," Logan said, pulling in the sleepy blue haired giant by the ears, the man becoming a little more alert when he saw the injured doctor. He leapt over with athletic grace, seizing equipment from the scattered mess in the room.

"Put her on the table," he said, "Scott - please get me her medical files."

It was strange, seeing the huge muscle-bound blue guy work so deftly and fast on the doctor. He lifted her to the table, and stuck a needle in her arm. After handing Hank a file, Scott stepped forward, arms out against me and Logan, pushing us back.

"You guys better let Hank get to work."

I frowned, seeing the tightness in the lips of the fearless leader. He lead us out into the corridor, closing the infirmary door behind him and probably glaring at us. His voice was cold, hard.

"Okay - from the top - that the HELL is going on?"

"Sabretooth," I said softly, "He tried to come get us."

Cyclops looked to the floor, where the trail of blood wound from under the door, down the corridor, in big clumsy footsteps. He nodded.

"Right. Where is he now?"

Logan crossed his arms, his face unreadable and aggressive. "He's dead."

Scott's lips tightened, "Where?"

"In Logan's room," I said.

Scott looked between us, a deep frown on his face.

"What are you doing up?" he said, pointing at me.

"I thought-" I froze, glancing to Logan who looked terrified, "I thought Logan was in trouble."

"You were told to stay in your room."

"I did," I said, "I just heard a wierd noise down the hall."

"So," he said, pointing to Logan, "Sabretooth stumbled into your room."

Logan nodded.

"And you killed him."

Now Logan's eyes flashed wide and he nearly choked, "No way."

Scott had no time for sneers or amusment. Just facts. He clenched his jaw, "How did he die?"

"He was on his way out," I said, "I saw him!"

Glancing back to the closed infirmary, Scott clenched his jaw again, then grabbed me and Logan by the shoulders, hustlin' us towards our room.

"Come on," he said, "I got a body to see."

---

He pushed open the door, pushing us in roughly, and I nearly tripped over Sabretooth as I staggered into the room. I winced, the sight of the shredded belly of the man not exactly appetizin'. Scott tilted his head as he stepped over the man, noticing the beginnings of gangrene in some of the man's extremities. He frowned, lifting a hand of the beast-man, looking under the claws.

"Blood, and skin," he said, voice still and controlled. He stopped. I looked to him, and he was looking at something. It wasn't anything on Sabretooth. It was something crumpled and sitting next to Logan's full length mirror. It was little and it was pink and it was obviously not Logan's. The jaw clenched again, and the leader stepped over with wide tense steps. Picking it up, he flapped it out, and he sighed. My baby-tee.

"Didn't you wear this to class today Rogue?"

My jaw dropped open, but before I could say anything he threw it down, shaking his head darkly.

"Personally, I don't care, I don't wanna know." He walked over, looking to me and then to Logan. "However - your little shared headspace thing has resulted in this." He pointed to Sabretooth. "And now Jean is badly injured."

Logan grimaced, anger bubbling within him. He stepped forward, bearing his teeth.

"This wouldn't have happened if y'all did what I told you to and get rid of him nice and humane the day he showed up here."

"It's not even the point!" I said, stepping forward, "Ya can't blame this on us, Scott. Jean doesn't."

His head flicked to me, jaw tight. "You're a good kid, Marie. If you knew what was good for you, you'd stay away from him."

He didn't even look at Logan as he turned and made for the door.

"You'll be having a good long talk to Professor Xavier in the morning," he said suddenly before slipping out of the room. I leapt forward, sticking my head out of the door.

"Aren't you gonna get rid of the body?"

He glanced back, "Logan can do something about that."

I heard claws pop behind me. Oh great.

---

Pain washed through me again, about a great many things. Scott was angry with me. I'd grown to respect Scott a whole lot in the past year, especially when Logan was away. Him, and Storm, and Jean and the Professor - they ruled my world. They were amazing people, and it was all I yearned for to be amongst them. I guess you could call it childish, but they were my heroes, in every sense of the word.

And now they were angry at me again.

I kicked at the wall of the corridor, the light sounds of one of the shop students fixing the gouges in the walls echoing around me. I could hear Logan breathing beside me, his body perfectly still, but always poised. I stole a glance at him occasionally, but he didn't look at me.

Maybe he thought it was his fault. Maybe he loved Jean.

We'd been waiting for ages, and I hadn't slept at all since Sabretooth came staggering in. Neither of us did, even though Storm tried to get us to. She was sweet and careful, but guarded. I think she was more worried about Jean than anything. Storm never took sides. She just was, and things happened about her. She'd retreated to her own room to wait. Maybe that was her way, but I couldn't do that.

The door to the infirmary slid open, the wheeling frame of Xavier rolling out slowly. His face was expressionless, but the eyes were light.

"She's going to be fine," he said gently, "It was only a superficial wound, with some damage to the muscles of her abdomenal wall. It should heal perfectly in time."

I glanced to Logan, watching him grind his teeth. I swallowed nervously, looking to the Professor.

"Do ye think this is our fault?"

He looked a little surprised, his brow rising, "No, not at all. I do believe that the both of you have behaved rather less than admirably during this situation, however."

I slumped a little, nodding.

"However," he said again, and I realised that I'd stopped listening to him, "I don't blame either of you for your actions. Perhaps I've been a little too hard on you, for trying to protect the ones you love. You must understand though, that we were all outcasts once, and it was only through the endless kindness of strangers that you found your way."

Oh wow. How did he do that? I was feeling perfectly righteous in my support of Logan's will to kill until right then. Not that it mattered. Jean's words had clung in my mind, and I felt a yearning to see her.

"When can we see her?" I asked.

Xavier smiled, "She's resting now. You can see her in a couple of hours. I suggest the both of you get some yourselves."

"Um," I toed the ground, rolling a lip, "Are ye angry with me, Professor?"

He shook his head lightly, his voice gentle. "No, Rogue, no I'm not."

I nodded, still acting bashful. "I'm - I'm sorry I disappointed you. I was just - I was angry. I didn't want anyone to hurt my family."

I dunno why I said family. I guess it just slipped out, but the light that sparkled in Xavier's eyes was something I'll never forget. It was then I realised how much I adored this man. I knelt, a little nervously, and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He smelt of fine simple cologne and old books. I could feel his hands pat my back tentatively. I know he wasn't a huggy type, but damn I needed this. I leant back, smiling, the blur of tears rimming my eyes. He gripped my hand, meeting my eyes a long moment.

"You will always be one of us, Marie."

I nodded at this, gripping his hand in return. His gaze shifted to Wolverine.

"You too Logan."

Logan seemed to be startled out of his calm gaze, and he nodded with a thoughtful pout. "I'll make a point of adding you to my Christmas card list."

The Professor gave a humoured grin and nodded. Logan smiled slightly, pushing himself off the wall.

"I'm gonna go get a coffee."

He loped off down the corridor, and I watched him for a moment, a frown on my face. I looked down to the Professor.

"Cyclops was angry with us," I said, "I'm worried about him. He's not usually so bitey."

"He was worried about Jean," the Professor said, "I don't think you need to be an empath to understand that."

"I know," I said.

"He's with Jean now," he continued, "I'm sure he'll be fine. You should go rest, like I told you.

"Okay."

I squeezed the Professor's hand a last time then started off down the corridor. I glanced back.

"Thanks Professor."

He just nodded, turning around and going back into the infirmary. I could tell this whole thing with Jean had taxed him. They were real close, and it showed. Guilt still plagued me though. Why did I have to be so damned ready to buck the system? Well, it didn't help having Logan in my head, but I wasn't about to blame it on him. Not all of it anyway. I growled as my thoughts wandered back to Logan. I was such a puppy. Followin' him around, droolin' and fawnin'. Heaven help me if my Mother saw the way I was behaving. First I think she'd kick Logan's ass into next week for being within three feet of her 'precious angel'. Then she'd probably tell him to go after someone his own age. Yeah, that'd be a real stretch for the poor bastard.

I turned the corner to the kitchen, and felt myself lurching to a stop in the doorway. Logan was there, staring darkly into a mug, wincing as he took a sip. He glanced up, spotting me, his deep hazel eyes a glower. I hated having that disapproval thrown in my direction. What the hell was he looking at me like that for?

I walked in silently, opening the fridge and digging around. I felt his eyes on me, and I glanced behind me. Wow - I hadn't realised I was sticking my butt up in the air. I tried to hide a grin - Logan kinda flinched when I caught him starin' at it. He growled.

"Didn't the Professor tell you to go to bed?"

"I'm hungry."

He grunted. He always does that, but it's not a piggish grunt. My Ma had and old tom she called 'Sugah'. He was a rough old bag of fur, but always so soft. He slept on the chair on our front porch, always. Whenever you patted him, he'd do this little grunting noise. A gruff little "ruff" noise. I never knew what it meant, but I recognised it when it came from Wolverine's throat when he was unhappy about something.

Sugah was a mean old bastard too, when he wanted to be. I also remember him being incredibly sweet when the situation suited him. I sighed, pulling out some cheese and bread and digging into the margarine. I glanced to him, a firmness in my lips.

"What bug crawled up your ass anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

Well. That certainly pissed him off. I shrugged, spreading the margarine on the bread, concentrating on the menial task, trying to ignore his eyes fixed to me with fiery persistence. I closed my eyes, biting back a sudden rush of tears. This was all wrong, and I suddenly felt as if everything between me and Logan had been a bad mistake, one that we had to rectify. I looked to him, trying to hide the fact that my lips were quivering, that my eyes were red.

"Ah'm sorry."

He glanced up, eyes flashing. "What for?!"

I shook my head, slapping a slice of cheese on the bread, turning around to face him and leaning on the sideboard.

"The way Ah behaved tonight. The last thing you need is some teeny-bopper chasin' after ya when you're trying to make a new start in ye lahfe."

I dunno what made him angrier. The bug up the ass comment or this apology. He clenched his jaw, pointing at me around the glass he was holding.

"Now listen here-"

A throat cleared itself suddenly, knuckles wrapping on a door frame. We both jumped, looking to the door. Scott stood there, his mouth hanging open a little contritely, perfect white teeth framed in luscious lips. He pursed them, glancing to us a moment.

"Uh - I'm not disturbing anything am I?"

"No," I said, Wolverine glaring at me.

"Right..." He was quiet a moment as he rubbed his hands, letting out a long sigh. "Look guys - I'm - I'm really sorry for the way I reacted to you earlier. You were right, Rogue, this isn't the fault of you two. In fact..." He swallowed, looking to his feet then back up at us, "If it weren't for you guys, Sabretooth could have probably done a lot more damage than he did."

I shrugged, looking to my feet bashfully, Logan hiding his face in his mug.

"If you two hadn't have found Jean so quickly - well - you know."

I looked up to him finally, narrowing my eyes tenderly and nodding. Wolverine snorted.

"What is this? The X-Men have turned into a fucking 'Sorry' brigade."

Cyclops' expression froze, and stayed that way till Logan waved a gruff hand.

"Doesn't matter. 'Pology accepted."

"Okay," Cyclops said, smiling at me briefly, "I better get back to Jean - get some sleep you two."

We nodded, watching the handsome leader stroll from the room. He seemed relieved more than anything. I felt Logan's eyes boring into me again, and I glanced to him, frowning.

"What?"

"I wasn't finished before," he said. He pointed at me. "Don't you ever feel sorry for what you feel, you got that Kid?"

I nodded, trying not to drown in the empassioned gaze he gave me.

"The second you do, you're open to being fucked over. Even the Geeks nearly got you killed cause they disagreed with you. They need that. They need us. So don't feel sorry. Ever."

I nodded again, fiddling with the butter knife in my hands. "Okay."

He dug around in his pocket, nodding, and he pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette. Shoving it in his mouth and lighting it, he regarded me silently as I turned around, cutting up my cheese sandwiches. I kept glancing back at him, just to check if it was my imagination, or was he starin' at me again.

"Logan..."

"Hmmm?"

He looked up at me over the hand that covered half his face, cigarette wedged between the first to fingers. I brushed my hair over my shoulder, glancing at him again.

"What if - what you feel - what if it gets in the way of someone's life?"

He rolled his tongue a moment and shook his head, "You're not in the way Marie."

I looked back down to my sandwich quickly, shuddering all over. Damn, he drove me insane. I heard his footsteps approach me, the wafting of cigarette smoke curling around me. Something sank into my hair, I assume his fingers, and clutching it gently, I felt the warm tender press of lips to my head. My eyes fell shut, my soul soaring, wallowing in the sensations he gave me, the contact. I felt him sigh against my hair, a possessiveness as he lay a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

"Good night, Marie," he said, "Get some rest."

I turned, meeting those flashin' hazel eyes of his, a small smile on my face as I gave a coy dip of my head. He smiled a little, caressin' my hair one more time before lopin out the door. He waved once over his shoulder before he disappeared into the dark corridor.

My whole being collapsed with exhaustion as he left, and looking down to the sandwich in my hand I wrinkled my nose. I didn't feel like it now. I just wanted sleep, oblivion for a few hours. I took a few bites, but quickly wrapped the sandwich in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge. Hopefully no one would eat it.

---

Bobby ate my sandwich. How I found this out? I'd slept barely four hours and Jubilee started with the chattering and the music and the opening of nail polish bottles which promptly stank out our room and nearly made me high. Now, boy was I ever hungry. So I loped through with a glare of death, and upon entering the kitchen, there was Bobby Drake, chowing down on a cheese sandwich in plastic wrap. I didn't growl, I just sighed.

"What's the time?" I said.

"Um - 2pm. Wow - you slept in real late. Lucky there were no classes this afternoon."

I glanced to him. "What?"

He nodded, blue eyes bright, "Yeah - Storm filled in as much as she could but with Jean down - well - they decided to let us have the afternoon off."

"Oh..." I opened the fridge, surveying the contents. Hmm... fruit salad.

"So did you hear about Sabretooth?"

I looked to Bobby. "Yes."

He frowned, "Oh - did Jubes tell you?"

"Something like that," I said, sinking down onto the table in the middle of the kitchen, watching Bobby eat my sandwich.

"You want some?" he asked suddenly.

"No," I said, "It's okay."

I felt like shit run down, and I must a' had the worst bags under my eyes. I decided to go with the fruit salad, and once I'd eaten a bit, I thought a walk might do me some good. Bobby offered to go with me, but I really needed alone time. That boy was far too sweet for his own good. I didn't do much that day. I wandered around, the innate urge to destroy things bubbling inside of me. I don't know why. These days, when life gets a little too hard to deal with, my fists ball and rage just courses through me. I blame it on Logan and his mind floatin' around in my head. Him and Miss. PyschoMuscle. She's rattlin' around today, encouragin' me to break shit. It sucks, suddenly being schizophrenic. It's good to know that I'm not crazy though, that it's someone's brain patterns in there interrupting with mine. I just do the breathing that the Professor taught me.

My rages led me out past the wrecked green where Logan had chucked a wobbly the other day, past the neat cut hedgerows to some shade near the bench I usually have lunch at. There's grass there, and I lay back, letting everything flow out of me. I do these rage exercises that Jean showed me. She said the property was so big no one was gonna care if I did them outside. So I laid back on the grass, and began screamin' my lungs out. Yeah, shoutin'. Angry shouting, like I'm yelling at someone that's made me mad. People probably think I'm a mental case, but I always feel great afterwards. Cause you change the noise. In the end, I was always laughing.

It was while I was in my most passionate of rages that a scruffy face looked over me, framed in the tree canopy, cocking a brow at me.

"You havin' fun there Kid?"

I close my mouth, frowning at Logan, then I look back to the sky, past him.

"In fact I was, but you interrupted me."

He twitched his brows upwards, amusement on his features. "I heard you wailing like a banshee, I thought you were in trouble."

"Nah," I shook my head, "Doing my rage exerci..." I propped myself up on my elbows, frowning at Logan. "You know - you should try this."

His brows just lifted slowly now, and he looked around himself, shifting in his leather jacket. "What?"

"Ventin' your rage vocally," I said, "Jean taught it to me."

The mention of her name makes his face flutter with something - I dunno. He shook his head though, turning away. "I'll stick to beatin' the shit out of people."

"You scared you'll enjoy it?" I called out.

He stopped, mid-step. His head turned, back still to me.

"You said not to feel sorry for what you feel. Let yourself feel angry. Once you do, once you feel how angry you are... it makes it easier."

He looked down, scuffing a shoe on the ground. I smiled.

"It's fu-uuun!"

A long sigh fell from him and he turned around, loping over to me, pulling off his jacket. He laid it out on the ground next to me, rolling up his sleeves, and with a bit of shifting he finally got settled, laying back on the ground. His head wasn't too far from mine, and I looked to him, smiling. He swallowed.

"I'm only doing this cause you want me to try it, you got that?"

"Sure Logan, whatever."

He growled. "What do I do?"

"Just - yell."

"That's it?"

I twisted my lips, "Well no - it's a certain kind of yellin'. What you say is important too. Like it has to be constructive. You can't just say 'Fuck the world', you know?"

He twitched as I swore, then glowered. "What if that's how I feel?"

"It maght be how you feel, but it's not going to make you feel better."

He wriggled his shoulders, pouting at the sky, "It'd make me feel better."

"It won't," I said, "I tried it."

He glanced to me long, his eyes warm but guarded. I patted his hand that laid next to mine.

"Come on, we'll try the first chunk of shouting. Now, you gotta shout stuff like 'my feelings are valid' and 'I'm allowed to be angry'."

Logan winced at me like I'd told him I thought one of the boys from N'Sync was cute. "My feelings are valid?!"

I sighed, bangin' my head on the grass in frustration, "Just - try it."

He sighed back at me, pursing his lips a moment.

"Ready?"

He nodded, "Kay."

"One... two... three-MY FEELINGS ARE VALID!!!"

"YOU FUCKWITS!!"

I glared at him, "Logan!"

He blinked at me, "What?"

I couldn't contain it. I burst into laughter, shaking my head.

"You nutcase! You're not supposed to swear!"

"But it's how I feel," he frowned, "And my feelings are VALID!"

His shout caught me off guard and I clamped my ears, "Ow!"

"Sorry," he frowned, "Did that hurt?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Well, that's VALID too!" He chuckled, a lopsided leer on his face.

I smacked him, rolling on him a little and giggling, "You're not trying this properly!!"

"Well this valid stuff - it's for pansies."

I sighed, "I know, but it's reaffirming a positive message in your mahnd, ya know?"

He nodded, staring at the sky. He glanced to me, and in the bluish light his eyes looked green. His face seemed to soften suddenly as he gazed at me.

"Can we try the 'Fuck the World' thing? I think it could work."

"Oh my GOD!" I laughed, covering my face in my hands, "Okay okay. You big baby."

"Right," he nodded, "Readysetgo - FUCK THE WORLD!"

I laughed, his voice roaring into the previously idillic scenery, birds taking off around us. "FUCK THE WORLD!" I hooted.

"FUCK THE WORLD!"

And we repeated it.

"FUCK THE FUCKING FUCK FUCK WORLD!" I shouted.

"Now we're getting creative," he mumbled, then let loose, "FUCK THE WORLD!"

"FUCK THE WORLD!"

"FUCK THE WORLD!"

"FUCK THE-" he sniggered, then sighed, "Fuck the world..."

I looked to him, wondering why he stopped. He was just starin' at me again, eyes just fallin into mine. I could have sat there all day, just looking at him. Such a rough haggard shell, and the wondrous soul within it. All that I felt for him, I'd hidden, been ashamed. He propped himself up on one elbow, his face suddenly serious.

"Mah..." I shuddered, swallowing, "Mah feelin's are valid."

He nodded.

"Ah'm allowed to feel..."

He twitched a brow up.

"To feel... what I feel."

I shook like an autumn leaf when I felt the warm firmness of his knee slippin' between my legs, his fingers diving into my hair again, tousling it with dedication. He just gazed at me, takin' me in, as if examining me with a quiet wonder. How I could live with this, I wasn't sure. Each time I just kept tellin' myself - it's all me, it's all me.

"What're you feeling?" he said in a rough breathy tone, his face achingly close to mine as he curled around me.

"Ah-" I shut my eyes, gulping, then whispering, "I can't say."

"Why not?" he said, rising a brow, "It'll make it easier."

I pressed my lips together, smiling awkwardly, "I don't know if it will."

"Try me."

God, I felt falling. Every inch of me falling. He was over me, against me, one hand caressing mine and the other harmlessly running through my hair. I sighed, closing my eyes a moment to gather courage. I was scared... so damn scared!

"Ah'm-" I gulped, "Ah'm allowed to feel..."

Opening my eyes, I saw, finally in those eyes... he was scared too. So I said it.

"Ah'm allowed to feel in love."

He closed his eyes suddenly, squeezing my hand, and he dropped his head down, kissing my head tenderly. He pulled my body against his, embracing me tightly, his lips against my hair always.

"What's your affirmation?" I asked him suddenly.

"Fuck the world," he grunted, a low chuckle lifting from him suddenly, and I glared at him till he added, "I got my girl."

His girl. I smiled up at him and blushed, the words fluttering through me. It was a quietening thought, that of all the women around, I was the girl that made it into his heart.

---

I did tell you this is my life we're talking about here, didn't I? With the incredibly good comes the inconveniently bad. First more of the good, cause it's great. Hank is one excellent doctor, and I don't think the Professor and the gang fully realised till he stitched Jeannie up a dream and he says he can use this salve he was workin' on that minimized scarring. So hopefully, Jean won't be havin' those scars for too long. As a result, the Professor is pullin' Hank out of trainin.

Hank is one funny guy. Most call him the 'Beast' or just 'Beast' for short, and I don't think Wolverine mahnds someone taking over that department. Funny thing is, Hank is so damn SMART. It's painful sometimes, especially when he starts with his science stuff. My brain spins. Not that I'm a dummy mind you, I mean I get a lot of A's. Hank is just - VERY smart.

He always finds a way to piss off Logan. See, Logan is a man of simplicity on the surface, and Hank is a guy who likes to look at life as a spectrum. So went Logan starts mouthin' off, Hank runs circles around him with one simple comment that'll get Logan all steamed. And if there's one thing I like seeing, that's Logan hot under the collar. Ah don't know why, it just excites me.

Jean's been down for two days now, and things have been hectic. So damn hectic. All my classmates have been treatin' it like some damned holiday. I been takin' shifts sittin' next to Jean.

I don't know what happened as I held her when she'd been injured. Something changed in my view of her. I'd always been so jealous, so guarded. When she'd been hurt, I saw she was fallible. That changed something in me, something big. Maybe I looked up to her more than I thought.

This morning, I kept watch whilst Cyclops rallied the kids into a class of Physical Education. He seemed content to let me keep Jean company, and as I'd done so in the past two days, we got to learn a bit about each other.

When Jean was fourteen, she had braces. At night, sometimes she'd have bad dreams about the kids teasin' her cause of them, and she'd dream about ripping them off. In the mornin', the insides of her mouth were cut and the wires of her braces were torn loose.

Her brain was far too powerful.

"Must a' hurt," I said.

Jean gave a thin smile, picking at the meal in her breakfast platter, "Cost a lot of money too."

I sighed, closing the book in my hands.

"I'd get voices in my head, too," she said, lifting a fork loaded with egg to her mouth, "I thought I was going crazy."

My soul rang at the familiar sentiment.

"How did you deal with it?"

She narrowed her eyes, regret flashing in her brown pools, "I didn't. I locked myself up in my room, played loud music and wore a lot of dark clothing."

My jaw dropped, "You were a goth?!"

She laughed lightly. "No! I was trying to be solitary. It didn't work though. The noises of other peoples minds could only be dealt with through control, not ignorance."

She talked like a scientist. I smiled, looking down to my gloved hands. "At least you can control your voices."

Jean was quiet for a moment, watching me as I fiddled with the edge of my dog-eared novel. Heart of Darkness... we were reading it for class. Her elegant hand slid to mine suddenly, and she squeezed it tenderly. And then she spoke, softly.

"You can control yours too, Marie. And I'm sure in time, and with determination, you'll be able to control even more."

I looked up, meeting her gaze, a smile flitting onto her features. She'd used my name, promised me my dream. I could see why Logan was so taken with her. I smiled back at her, a sigh leaving me.

"Thanks," I said, "I think sometimes I'd have gone insane by now without you and the Professor to help me out."

"It's what we're here for," she said, getting back to her breakfast.

I sat there looking at the book cover for a long moment, fiddling with my gloved fingers as Jean ate. I never realised how comfortable I felt around her, not until I'd thought about us losing her. I smiled.

"I managed to get Logan to try those rage exercises."

She chuckled, "Oh yeah?"

"He kept wanting to swear. Didn't like the constructive mantras at all."

"I wouldn't expect him to," she said with a smirk.

"No."

A quietness fell upon us again, and I knew. I had to tell her. Not that she cared, but I hadn't mentioned it, Logan hadn't mentioned it. I didn't know if anyone did, or if Scott told her about my baby-tee in Logan's room. I looked up, taking a decisive breath in.

"Ah trust you," I said. She looked up, raising her brows.

"Yes."

"I just - I wanted to tell you cause I like you, and Ah like to share things with you."

Jean smiled.

"Since Mississippi, you're the closest thing Ah've got to a sister. You an' Storm."

Her smile grew and she nodded.

"Logan-"

"Loves you," she said, "I know."

I blinked, tilting my head at her with curiosity. "You - you just poked in his head an-"

"No," Jean smirked knowingly, "I was talking to Scott the other night, he told me about the t-shirt and the kitchen."

I frowned, "What about the kitchen?"

She grinned, "Apparently the tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter-knife."

"Hmmph." My brow descended in a Logan-esque scowl. "Ol' One Eye's not pyschic too is he?"

"You don't have to be a mutant to be psychic," she said. "Let's just say he's observant."

I nodded. "Ya know - this thing with Logan? I thought it was all in mah head. Some stupid fantasy." I laughed lightly, sadly, "I swore he had it bad for you."

Jean half rolled her eyes, digging into some bacon. "You saw what he was like around me. I call 'denial'."

I smiled, looked down to my hands with a warmth within me.

"Jus' this week. I dunno. He's opened up somehow. Maybe all that crap with Sabretooth knocked something around in his head or whatever."

"Maybe he just got brave," Jean said, gesturing with a fork, "Or you got older."

"Or he got younger," I mused.

"That too," Jean smiled.

I only smiled a moment. Since Logan had eased our relationship into next gear, something shifted, and yet things were exactly the same as before. It confused me. I looked to Jean, wrinkling my nose in a frown.

"Jean, don't you think - well - don't you think that this thing I've got with Logan - is a bit unfair?"

She looked up from her plate and cocked a brow like I'd told her the sky was pink. "How d'you figure that?"

I shrugged sheepishly, "I dunno, the no touch deal. I mean - you know what he's like. He's an animal inside, ya know?"

Jean smirked now. "Well he's been perfectly fine the last year and a half without sex, I'm sure he can go on a little longer."

"Jean," I sighed, nudging her, "I'm serious."

She sighed back at me, placing down her fork, and taking my gloved hands she met my frightened eyes with a firmness I'd grown to greatly appreciate in my times of uncertainty.

"Logan is a man of very deep conviction, am I correct?"

I nodded. That was the understatement of the millenium.

"Well, if he has made the decision to tell you how he feels, obviously he's gonna feel that way about you no matter what. He has always thought very highly of you. I'm sure he thinks it's unfair on you, dating an obviously older man when you have younger peers."

My jaw dropped, "But I don't feel that way at all! I think he's beautiful!"

A smile slid on the telekinetic's face and I blushed, realising I'd shot my mouth off again. She squeezed my hand.

"Well, he is very easy on the eye, but he might not see things that way. Do you see where I'm coming from, Rogue?"

I winced, "Ah'm not giving him enough credit, huh?"

Jean tipped her head, taking up her fork again. "Probably not."

I pursed my lips with determination. If people were going to know about me and Logan, they may as well know it with style. Opportunity wasn't far off. In fact it knocked on the door in the form of Scott Summers. He smiled, strolling over to Jean.

"Hey babe," he said, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on her lips before addressing me. He nodded in my direction. I smiled a little awkwardly.

"Hi."

"Hey Rogue. Can you help me out? There's a soccer match being played on the main green-"

"You mean there's one Logan hasn't ripped the shit out of?" I murmured to Jean, who grinned at me. Scott nodded and wound his jaw.

"Yeah well - he'll be fixing those don't you worry. We're short of a referee. Care to do the honours?"

I sighed, patting Jean on the leg as I got up, "The lahfe of an X-Men is never dull, dear Jean."

Jean smirked, chewing on her breakfast. "Take care, Marie."

I smiled, joining Scott at the door. Most of the walk to the mansion levels was quiet, and it was killing me. Scott just smiled good naturedly, the sunny weather and the improving health of his beloved obviously contributing to his good mood. I twitched the corner of my mouth nervously.

"Uhm - Scott?"

"Hmm?" He cocked a brow.

"You know me and Logan - Ah know you probably disapprove..."

He frowned, his mouth pursing, "What gave you that idea?"

I ground the floor of the lift with my toe, "Well you know - with the t-shirt and the kitchen-"

"Rogue," he interrupted me, "You're eighteen now. It's not the business of the X-Men or myself if you decide that you would like to pursue a relationship with Logan. Unless of course it's going to hamper Logan in his performance as an X-Men is it?"

I smiled, shaking my head, "I don't think so."

"Exactly," he said, "So really - it doesn't matter if I approve or not."

The lift opened, and we strolled out, the mansion mainly empty of children, most of them outside living up the glorious weather. I slowed, turning to him.

"It matters to me, Cyke. You're my friend."

The smile on his face froze, shifted, them calmed with a warmness that touched me. He nodded, wringing his hands.

"You're right," he said, "I am."

I shrugged, playing with the wrinkles in my gloves. "Logan's not that bad, really. He's an asshole sometimes Ah know but, he has this really wonderful side too. I wish he'd let you see it."

"He will when he's ready," said Cyclops.

That was true. I pouted my lips in thought, a long sigh leaving me. "So you don't hate this?"

"No." Scott shook his head. "I just don't want Logan hurting you, that's all."

I let a smile splash on my face and I nudged him, "Wahy, you're the best big brother a girl ever had!"

He laughed, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me along to the front door. "Come on then, Sis, we got a soccer match to referee."

---

When we got out there, the guys were half killin' each other. Bobby was shoutin' at Johnny and spats of ice kept shootin' off him as he threw his hands about and pointed wildly at the goal. Kitty just shook her head, examining her nails, Jubes next to her poppin' gum. As I ran towards them the girls looked up and I waved hello. Jubilee smirked, turning towards the sidelines.

"Lookee who's watchiiiing," she cooed.

I looked. On the sideline, Logan sat at a bench, his body sprawled on it lazily, a hand in his jeans pocket, the other laying over the back of the bench and a cigar wedged firmly between his teeth.

"Oh," I said, "That's nice."

Kitty snorted, shaking her head at a Jubilee in a cool smirk.

A whistle blared, and the girls jumped, tugging on my sleeve with regretful smiles.

"We gotta play."

I nodded, trotting off to the sideline, eyes on Logan. He just looked at me, his face stony and saying nothing. Ha. Playing cool are we? I gave him one of my sweetest smiles, tilting my head coyly.

"Hey there, Sugah," I cooed.

His look froze, then melted to a quiet smoulder. I grinned, wiggling my bottom suggestively before facing the field. Jubilee's voice rang out like a police siren.

"ROGUE! QUIT FLIRTIN' WITH THE OLD MAN AND WATCH THE GAME DAMMIT!"

I spun about, eyes flashing with anger. Old man?!

"He's MAH OLD MAN!" I yelled, "And I'll FLIRT WITH HIM if Ah DAMN WELL LIKE!"

Every kid in the field had skid to a halt, Bobby slidin' into Kitty with his jaw hangin' around his crotch. I felt myself burnin' up, and I thought oh NO. Logan was going to kill me. I turned, checkin' on him.

He was grinnin' like a damned cheshire cat.

Scott clenched his teeth impatiently. "PLAY ON!"

Jubilee whirled about, "WHAT?! That was a FOUL!"

I sighed with relief as the kids hurled themselves into the game once more, the distraction of my scandalous love life obviously not that engaging. Except... Bobby stood there, lookin' at me a moment. Damn. He looked so sad. All I could do was shrug, my lips pulling to a sorry wince. The colourful whirl of Kitty running past him tagged his sleeve, pulling him along with her, and he ran then, not looking at me anymore. It was one of the most awful feelings, knowing someone loved you, and you couldn't feel that way about them in return.

---

The game ended, and Jubes' team won of course. I dunno what it was about that girl, but she had the knack of wranglin' kids, I'll tell you that for free. See, this was the good stuff I was telling you about earlier. Logan loped along next to me as we made our way back to the mansion, not sayin' anything, just walkin', nudgin' me every now and again and givin' me a flash of a tiny smile. We got to the front door, and waltzin' in we saw the Professor lookin' very stony faced, just sitting in his chair next to the stairs. I frowned at him, drawing near.

"Hey Professor - what's wrong?"

"He's near us," he said, "Coming up the driveway. I don't know what he wants."

My jaw inched open, and I glanced to Logan.

"Magneto," he growled, "I can feel it in my bones."

Fear burst in me then. I saw what Magneto could do to Logan, and this time -damn him all to Hell I'd let him know how I felt about the scars in my mind. I had new powers now, ones he'd get to know pretty intimately if I had the chance.

"No, Rogue," Xavier said suddenly, "No hate, no vengeance."

"Just fluffy bears and perrywinkle hugs," snarled Logan.

I blinked at him. Besides the inappropriate situation, his words had been rather poetic. Shaking myself I glared at the Professor evenly.

"We let Sabretooth walk all over us - and look what happened to Jean," I said, "No more, Professor."

Xavier sighed, shaking his head and closing his eyes, "We should see what he wants first."

"No bets for selling cookies," I said coolly.

It was then a firm knock shook the door. I glanced to the Professor, who nodded at me. I ventured forward, pulling open the door, my heart in my throat. In the bright glow of day two figures were partly silhouetted. The tall dour figure of Erik, dressed completely in black and crowned with a simple black hat, and the visage of Senator Robert Kelly. I shook all over, stepping back, rage flashing in my eyes.

Magneto didn't say anything. He just looked at me with those sad blue eyes. I felt tears sting my eyes, utter discord ripping through my chest and sending my soul plummeting. I couldn't see this, not him, not the memories he yanked out from the corners of my mind. My lips shuddered, and before Xavier could speak I breathed.

"What do you want?"

A light facade of a smile flittered on Erik's face and he bowed his head. "To see Charles, of course."

"I'm here, Erik."

The Professor wheeled forward, his eyes a strange mix of affection and anger. That affection rushed through me like a splash of agony, the betrayal I felt balling my fists. I'd given so much of myself to the Professor, laid my trust and love in him, and he looks at Erik like THAT. I stalked over to Logan who inched towards me protectively.

Magneto and 'Kelly' stepped inside, the looks on their faces clear masks to their true nature.

"I do believe one of our own came to you a few days ago," said Magneto, "Victor Creed."

I frowned with confusion. "Who?"

"Sabretooth," said Professor Xavier. "I'm afraid that he-"

"He had a little accident," Logan snarled suddenly, "Fell on my claws when he thought he'd deprive my friend of oxygen."

Magneto's eyes flickered. "I see."

The Professor actually looked embarrassed. "I wasn't here at the time. Had I been-"

"No need to explain," Magneto said good naturedly, "We do what we must to survive."

The front door burst open suddenly as a stream of sweaty teens poured into the room, hooting and cheering, Scott being carried along with them. Scott slowed down, trotting over to Logan.

"Gee Logan - you look like someone threw your cigar supplies in the pool."

"Nothing that trivial," Logan grunted.

Scott's face fell, and he followed Logan's deathly glare.

"Mr. Summers!" called Kitty, "This door is locked!"

I looked over to Kitty. She was at the main doors leading to the rest of the mansion. My eyes flew to Scott who now stepped back to flank Professor Xavier, his lips growing firm in anger as he glared at Magneto.

"Professor..."

"It's all right, Scott," the Professor replied.

"Yes, we were just checking up on our comrade, but it does seem he's come to harm."

The kids all milled at the door, staring at Magneto with fear. I wasn't sure if they knew who he was. This wasn't their life, not yet. Their life was live-in schooling, fussball and crowding around televisions. Not facing killers and pyschopaths with powers. They knew Senator Kelly though, and they knew - he wasn't who he looked like.

"You got what you came for," I said, my accent thick, "Perhaps you should leave before you wear out your welcome!"

Logan ground his teeth. "Too late."

Oh I loved that man.

Magneto ignored me, eyeing all the children keenly. My heart was thumping wildly as we stepped over, looking down on the kids and the young adults like me.

"Hello," he said, "I'm an old friend of Charles'."

"Sure looks like it," Jubilee said, snorting. "The Professor is just falling over himself to get you some tea."

The Professor wheeled himself forward. "Jubilee."

"No," Magneto smiled at Xavier, "I find her honesty refreshing." He looked back to Jubilee, "I don't really like tea very much."

I could sense the rage in Logan rising. I knew what he wanted to do to him. I wanted to do it to him as well.

"So, how do you enjoy your life here at Professor Xavier's little school, hmm?" asked Magneto, addressing the group of youngsters who were looking more frightened by the second. "I'm sure it is exciting, learning to use your powers for the good of mankind."

A few of the kids dared to nod. Magneto smiled. It was a fucking ugly sight.

"Well," He bent over to one of the smaller kids, "One day you shall be all grown, and then you may wear a dark shiny suit like the other X-Men. Do you look forward to that day?"

A lot of the kids nodded now. The smile on Magneto faded as he stood upright, turning away from them.

"You've brainwashed them well, Charles."

Anger prickled within me. He strolled over to Logan, his blue eyes glinting.

"Your healing powers really are extraordinary," he said, "I'm sure Creed wasn't an easy man to kill."

Xavier's eyelids fluttered, "We are sorry, Erik."

Logan snorted. "I'm not."

"You planted him," I said suddenly.

Magneto glanced to me, a frown appearing on his face.

"You planted Creed," I said, "To frame Logan. Cause you knew that it'd cause trouble. You wanted to rip this school from the inside out."

The older man's lips tensed.

"Didn't work, did it?" I said, stepping foward, meeting his glare, "You didn't expect him to actually get his ass kicked huh?" As I spoke, I pulled off a glove, lifting up my naked hand, "He nearly killed me you know. Ah bet you told him to come after me. Mustah been annoying to know that I got away from you the first time."

My hand trembled over his wrinkled skin. He suddenly looked very sorry. So very sorry.

"Do you really want any more of what's in my mind, dear girl?"

I clenched my jaw.

"I only kill if I must. I don't derive pleasure from it."

He turned away from me unharmed, facing Charles. The door to the rest of the mansion began rattling suddenly, a stiff cold wind streaming underneath the door.

"Uh oh..."

The kids ran back, Magneto retreating to Senator Kelly's side.

You know when like, you're amongst a bunch a' chickens? Well I had a friend in Mississippi who lived near the edge of town and her Ma had chickens. Once chicken flaps it's wings and gets frightened and like a wave, all the ones around it get frightened, then the ones next to those and so on will you got a pen full of screamin' chickens and a bewildered human swingin' their arms about just trying to stop from gettin' shat on.

That's exactly what happened in the hall of Xavier's mansion when Storm, in full meteorological splendor, burst through those doors and floated in on a rush of air, licks of lightening lashing off her civilian-attired frame.

"Oh man," Jubilee leapt towards Rogue, pushing fluttering bangs from her face, "Someone got Storm pissed!"

"Ya don't say," replied Logan through grinding teeth.

Kids ran left right and centre, smashing into Magneto and screaming at him like he was the boogie-man (which is kinda ironic seeing as the boogie-man isn't anywhere near as well dressed). So - kids bouncing off Magneto, screamin' at him - Logan's claws were out, Xavier looking around him with the most bewildered look on his face I'd ever seen. Storm was reaching up into the air with a hand, spinning up a small swirl of cloud, her eyes glowing angrily.

That's when Cyclops stepped in the front door, arms full of sports equipment, and his jaw dropped at the sight of screaming children and teens, half of them with their mutant powers going off half cock. Ice, fire, stretching limbs and kineticly charged shrapnel was everywhere. Had it not been such a serious situation I honestly think I'd be laughing my ass off. But it was serious, cause the metal things in the room (including Wolverine) were rattling. Logan clenched his teeth at Magneto, who seemed to be garnering a bit of a headache.

"What the hell is going on in here?" gasped Scott.

Before he could say much else, Storm bolted forward in more ways than one, wind slamming into Magneto who just cocked a brow, his silver hair flipping about ridiculously.

The bag of soccer balls that Cyclops had been hefting broke open suddenly. Lord knows why. Maybe it had something to do with the metal clasps keeping it closed - who knows. There were balls everywhere - one knocked over a plinth that a vase had been sitting on.

Xavier, in the mean time, looked really pissed. I mean, I never seen him look so annoyed in my time here. He rolled forward, meeting Magneto's gaze and frowned.

"I think you've done enough here, Erik."

Magneto smiled down at him with a lot of amusement.

"This is your highly trained band of students, eh Charles?"

"They're children," Xavier muttered, but the sudden steps of Scott made him and raise his hand, halting him. "Why are you here, Erik?"

"We came to collect Creed," said 'Senator Kelly' suddenly, inching forward with a flash of amber eyes.

"And perhaps... some recuits?" added Magneto.

Xavier's eyes grew stony, and he spoke so - quietly - so very very evenly. I felt a chill run through me. God help me should he ever use that tone against me.

"You won't find them here."

"Won't I?" Erik practically cooed, looking suddenly entertained. He strolled forward to where the kids huddled, looking them over. "Remember being made fun of in school my dears?" He bent over in front of Howard, a round little boy with a sweet temperment, the old eyes of Magneto glistening with enthuseasm. "Remember being called 'freak'? Mutie? A biological mistake? Hmmm?"

He stood straight once more, shaking his head.

"Well your persecutors were wrong. You are biological improvements. I want you never to forget that. I want you never to forget that what you are is something to be proud of - always."

I gazed at Magneto for a long time. In some aspects, I think he was as paternal as Xavier, in his own twisted way. Kinda sad seeing him so bent on destruction, really, with all he could do to help us. The kids were looking less scared; some even looked interested. Had I been Xavier I would have gotten angry and kicked the bastard out by now. Especially at his schpeil that made him look a little too good to be true.

Magneto paced away from the kids, meeting the serene deadly eyes of Mystique in the guise of Kelley, then swung around to face them again.

"You know - you don't have to like the humans if you don't want to. No one makes them like you - what makes you think you have to feel the same way about them?"

I couldn't let that slide. I narrowed my eyes and spoke.

"Because if you hate them, you become as bad as those that despise us."

The look of pride from Xavier nearly felled me. The look of thinly veiled contempt from Magneto chilled me however, and he stepped towards me, regarding me in silence. His words were always measured, well thought. They were weighted, and frightening.

"I didn't leave as much of a mark on you as I hoped I would have," he said, lifting a leather-clad finger to my hair and running it through the platinum bang. I felt a chill run through me and I clenched my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him in defiance. Son of a bitch. "Didn't learn did you? Of sacrifice... of our cause."

I heard the grinding of Logan's teeth against each other as he closed in on us, the front of his body pressing to the back of mine. Magneto eyed us, registering the sentiment with a barely noticable tick of his brow. Protectiveness rumbled up inside of me, and without thinking my hand slid back to his thigh, squeezing. This caused an amused smile to flutter onto the old man's face and he peered at Wolverine with a tilt of his head.

"Tragedy does make the heart grow fonder, does it not, my friend in metal?"

Logan tilted his head, "You insinuatin' somethin'?"

Magneto shook his head, "No, merely observing."

I could see the anger rising in Logan, his eyes almost glowing with rage. "Oh yeah, what's that?"

He looked around us, at Cyclops, Storm, and the Professor. Extra long gaze at the Professor. He finally dragged those crystal blue eyes back to Logan.

"How X-Men have a tendency to pair up and attempt to procreate... no matter how..." He gave a tilt of his head, "Inappropriate it may be."

The next move was lightening. Logan's arm flicked out next to me, grabbing the neck of the man and slamming him into the wall behind us. The wood cracked, and Magneto winced. I jumped forward.

"Logan NO!"

"What ya wanna protect this pile of shit?!" His eyes flashed with fire.

"No!" I gasped shaking my head, "He's going to HURT you!"

As I said that, Magneto pursed his lips, looking at Logan with a wrinkle of concentration in his brow.

That's when I heard it - the popping of something in Logan's neck, then arm. Logan stepped back stiffly, eyes brimming with pain.

"NO!" I ran forward, grabbing Magneto, pulling him from the wall and slamming him back into it again, "Let him GO!"

"ROGUE!"

It was Scott's voice calling me, and the whip of wind grew around me. I could hear the frightened whimpers of the young teens that huddled in the corner, and soon their frenzied footsteps as they ran down the hall. I clenched the soft neck under my fingers.

"Ya feel that, ya bastard?!"

"Rogue - put him down - that's not going to solve anything!"

"Like hell," I growled, eyeing Magneto. He looked barely worried. I could hear the pained grunts of Logan behind me and my fingers clenched tighter around the neck. "You hurt him again - I break your fucking neck."

"You break my neck dear girl," he croaked, "And I break his..."

Before the words even processed, I let go, Magneto slipping to the floor. I didn't even hear the deathly rush of bare padding feet as the slipped up behind me and struck me upside the head. The clout only hurt a moment as I fell to the floor. I heard the X-Men call out behind me, and as I stood up, I saw what I had always feared.

The Brotherhood... foreign mutants I didn't know, that didn't look upon me with the care I'd grown to be used to in this place... in Professor Xavier's sanctuary of peace. He'd expected a weakened force, chaos, an easy break. How insanely stupid of him to think that Wolverine and I could ever be a weak link.

Anger burst through me. He tried to destroy the X-Men through Logan and I. Well... I'd destroy him with the very same thing.

A blue hand gripped my neck and dragged me up a wood-panelled wall, amber eyes flashing at me.

"You nearly killed him," she said coolly, "That won't ever happen again."

I just gave a weary smile before sending a swift kick up to the back of her head with a flick of my leg. As her head lurched forward I slammed into it with my own, a trickle of blood spilling down my face that wasn't my own. It took a lot to actually hurt me now... again, those nifty new powers. Mystique staggered back, wiping at her brow, glaring at me. I could barely glance around me to see the all out fist-fighting that was taking place. Magneto had Logan again, as if taking out his frustrations that it all didn't work, and that one of his toughest had been taken out in the process. I couldn't let it happen. I ripped off my gloves, baring my ivory hands to Mystique who at the sight of them stopped stock still.

I grinned.

"Wassat - big scary morphin' lady frightened?"

I jumped forward, and she leapt back, a catch of breath in her throat.

"You don't want me inside, child..."

There was something careful, tender in that voice that frightened me. Probably because she was right - I didn't.

"I'd risk it," I said, darkly, "For him."

A look of incomprehension flittered across Mystique's face.

"You would risk your sanity and life comfort for him?"

I nodded, "He's done as much for me."

"I would do as much for him."

I knew who she was talking about. Erik. I felt that chill again and I knew -they were all as devoted to Erik as we were to Charles. And that's what made them so damned dangerous. I couldn't face her, not this woman. With a grunt I launched myself up into the air, flipping back and landing a few steps from Logan's crumpled form on the floor. Spinning around I kicked at Magneto's gut, watching him as he staggered back.

"What's wrong? Can't bend my bones with your head eh?"

He fell on his behind, eyes sharp with anger. I heard the running steps of Mystique this time, and when her foot swung to clobber my head, I ducked, hearing only a whoosh over my head. With a jab of my leg I wrapped my ankle around her leg, giving a swift pull.

The naked woman slipped onto her bottom, and I glared at the both of them.

"Ya wanna fuck with me? Huh? Cause I'll kick both your asses!"

"Mar-"

I looked down. Logan lay back, tears of pain in his eyes. I stood with a sigh, turning around and grabbing Magneto, hauling him to his feet.

"You want to let him go, Princess, or do I have to get angry?"

Mystique stiffened suddenly, and looked to Magneto in my hand. As I glanced around the room, I saw that the two or three extra mutants that had entered after Magneto and Mystique had stopped in front of their adversaries, similarly paralyzed. I looked to Mystique, but she had eyes only for Magneto. She came closer, very close, her deep blue lips close to his.

"You shall leave here, Erik," she said smoothly, her voice a rush of many, "Never return under the guise of peace, or you shall know real suffering."

Logan's stiff breaking form slackened, and he gave a sharp cry of relief that tore through me. I let go, very slowly, a sharp crunch of Magneto's aesophagus being a quiet reminder of what I could do to him. Damn that high-neck skivvy. Had it not been there today would have been his last. I quietly thanked God for not having to have that madman in my head any more than he was, though. It was a place I liked having dominated by myself, and Logan.

He slipped down and staggered back. Slowly I could see control being returned to the mutants. The turned and glared at Magneto, and he coughed haggardly.

"Out!" he rasped to his comrades.

Like hunting dogs, they took barely a blink at him and complied, racing out the door. Mystique's blue slithering arms wrapped around Magneto, doting and care in her eyes at the broken form of Magneto. She glared a me long, anger in her face that probably mirrored mine not a few moments ago.

"You'll keep," she purred, pulling the injured Magneto away from me.

I glanced around the room. It was - well it was wrecked. A few heavy wood panels were cracked, a number of expensive vases were smashed by upturned plinths. Storm's hair was a wild mess around her shoulders from her windy intervention, and the scorch marks of Cyclops' energy blasts marred the usually elegant hallway.

Xavier frowned, but relief was in his eyes, I could see it. He wheeled forward to the kids, a gentle frown on his features.

"Come with me," he said, "And I'll explain a little about 'adequate timing'..."

Grabbing my gloves I leapt down to Wolverine, shrouding my hands before cradling his face.

"Logan... Logan - you okay?"

The eyes blinked and looked to me. He grunted.

"I feel like shit run down, Marie."

I let out a long doting groan and pressed my cheek to him through my draped hair.

"It's okay," I said softly, "You'll be fine, sugah."

I felt his hand pat my shoulder and I sighed with relief. I hugged him, my hair falling down over his face, the fear I'd held for his safety coming out in soft sobs.

"I love you," I mumbled, "I love you."

"You too, Marie," he said, muffled under my hair, "I'm not dead ya know."

"Ah know," I said, "I just - I coulda killed that bastard for touching you!"

As I lifted my head to look at him, he nodded haggardly.

"I'm kinda glad you didn't."

I rose my brows and he closed his eyes.

"Ya don't want that shit on your conscience."

I smiled, hugging him again.

---

Hank looked us over, and obviously he'd never treated Logan before as he insisted that he have gauze and dressings on all of the man's wounds. I tried to tell him it wasn't necessary. Hank just looked back at me with cool blue eyes and said that infection was a danger to anyone, super healing or no. I tried to tell him that it just wasn't so in Logan's case. Then again, Hank was the doctor.

Then the guy suggested the last thing I'd thought I'd ever hear suggested so many miles from home. I mean - after the past two days, and Logan bashed black and blue and his poor bones twisted this way and that and me all bleedin' and bruised, he looked at us.

"There is little more I can do for you," he said, washing his furry blue hands at the sink, "I doubt the walls of the infirmary will do much for your state of mind."

"In English," Logan said tiredly, rubbing a bandage.

"Perhaps it would be good for you both to go have a nice cup of tea."

We stopped, looked at each other, and blinked. Logan was as dumbfounded as I was.

"Tea?" he croaked. "Do I look like the kind of guy that drinks tea?!"

Beast eyed him a moment and smiled patiently. "You should, the anti-oxidents would do you good," he said in that cool well spoken tongue.

Logan stepped off the bed, no shirt, a spare pair of tracksuit pants grabbed from the nearby supply room clothing his bottom half and feet perfectly bare. How he could have cute feet, I had no idea, but he did. And they padded across the room towards me, Logan's hazel eyes looking tired.

"So," he said, "Want some tea?"

I smiled, "Make mine an English Breakfast," I said, wrapping a long-sleeved clothed arm around his bare one. I could feel his muscles hardening against my arm and I was in heaven.

Our trip to the kitchen was one that was mostly in silence. Relief was bound between us, relief that we'd been through what we knew was the worst of things for now, that we'd survived the chaos with each other, and that we'd even become an 'each other' in the first place.

He was quiet still as he made the tea, and I watched him as he filled our mugs with the boiling water that was stained with the tea-bags inside. The smell, strong, herbal, lofty, drifted past him, past me. It filled the room only a moment. He looked to me.

"Milk?"

"Yes please."

It was such an odd thing, watching Logan make tea. I couldn't even believe he was drinking it. Maybe the prospect of doing something with me was appealing, I don't know.

We sat at the table with our cups of tea, and I drank it hungrily. Something about it was cleansing, so sweet and delicious. The hearty taste of English Breakfast tea had always been something I enjoyed.

Well... son of a gun.

"Hank was right, the tea is kinda theraputic," I said, gazing at the mug, letting my feet tangle around Logan's at the ankle. He glanced under the table only a moment, then leant back on his elbows like before and eyed me past the mug.

"Who'da thought," he said into the cup.

"Remember that corny tea-drinking scene from Karate Kid Two?"

This elicited a sharp glare from Logan.

"I'm proud to say I never SAW Karate Kid, one, two or three."

"Never?"

He shook his head and eyed me, "No."

"Well, basically, when two people are in love in Japan, or wherever the hell Mister Miyagi is from-"

"Mr. Who?"

"No, not Mr. Who, Mr. Miyagi!"

Logan narrowed his eyes, "Funny."

"Listen!" I pouted, "I'm trying to tell you an amusing story!"

"Sorry..."

I nodded, "Anyway. So he meets this chick there who like - she's beautiful and there's this stupid tradition where two people drink tea together. Like they go through all this stuff, turning the cup and stuff where they drink the tea... I mean it was stupid - kinda pretty though. I wonder if that's a real tradition?"

Logan just gave me that steady glare, "What's your point Marie?"

"Oh!" I nodded and took another gulp of my tea, "Point is - she took her hair out and they did it on the floor after. It was so silly."

Logan just grinned, "Sounds like a good idea to me."

I looked to him, face turning red.

Needless to say, I'll never look at that kitchen table the same way again. So that's the story of a cup of tea. It's how I ended up in that kitchen, with Logan and I all beaten up, and the tea in my hands. Tea's curing properties is still in question to me, but I think adventures under kitchen tables will never ever be. And I was right... Logan was healed up under all those bandages.

Under the pants too.