Rogue sighed and ran a lazy finger around the rim of the window of her new bedroom. A large puff of air escaped her lips as she sighed dramatically and she blew the hot air up into her hair ruffling her long bangs and sending streaks of white floating into her face. She brought a rare ungloved hand up to her fore head and started playing with the pale silver strands, twisting them this way and that looking at the different way the rays of the setting sun set off the silver highlights in her “old lady” bangs. Of course reminiscing about this hair brought back memories, stowed away memories of her near death experience nearly four years ago now. She couldn’t help but be bored with her nostalgia but she supposed it was only natural to reminisce this time of year-after all she had just graduated. She was officially a girl with a high school diploma and it saddened her to think she wouldn’t be able to tell her momma how she was finally the first one in the family to do it, and how good it felt to receive her diploma.

Rogue never thought she’d graduate anywhere else but that rinky dink little town she grew up in, walking down the aisle of a Mississippi mud pit as her momma played the piano, her mother did play for most of the towns social occasions. Weddings, graduations, and every church event to be counted. She laughed a little bitterly to herself and abandoned playing with her hair, returning her gaze to the setting sun and the way the sun seemed to dip below the horizon in a mesmerizing way. Rogue’s thoughts floated over to him.


The boredom was gone from her eyes now and replaced with longing and puzzlement. She thought back to those moments on top of the statue of Liberty. She remembered the chilly night air, because from that altitude the wind was icy and it burned her cheeks. She remembered the exact moment when her hair turned white, she remembered feeling too drained to even speak or cry and she remembered having to concentrate in order to breathe because she was so exhausted. That was the first moment when she noticed, despite the fact that the situation was unraveling towards her death, that her hair was white. Even in the chaos of it she remembered seeing white framing her face and thinking “is that my hair?”


She felt something sharp between her hands and looked down to realize that she was fingering his tags again, she sighed again only this time it was a sigh of discontent. Logan had come and gone over the years. He’d come back when the base at Alkali lake had been a bust, and he’d left after Jean disappeared. He’d come when he thought the school could use a little help, when Rogues 16th birthday came and passed and even though the date of his arrival and the date of her birthday didn’t exactly coincide, he had mysteriously showed up with a card and a little teddy bear that held a miniature happy birthday balloon. He was around when the school had to evacuate and when Jean went haywire. Rogue didn’t have a better word for it, and he was around for both Professor Xavier’s death as well as his rebirth. Professor Xavier had died yes, but then he had used his powerful mental abilities to come back, ironically in the body of a brain dead man, who could actually walk and talk. Jean was forever lost though, even though they’d found Scott.


He wasn’t dead, though Jean had left him for dead, he was found by a patrol man or a trucker, rogue never really found out which and had been found at a hospital. When the hospital failed to contact Scott’s family they contacted the school because his license said where he worked as a teacher there. When Scott first came back from the hospital he was severely injured and it had taken many, many dark months, months which Logan hadn’t stuck around for, to get back into his old spirits.

Scott was genuinely a nice guy and had been all his life, he didn’t have dark memories like Logan and he didn’t carry around unpleasant experiences like Rogue did. The only thing that really seemed to be a black smudge on him was the fact that he couldn’t get over being left for dead by the woman he loved. Despite the countless times it had been explained to him that Jean had gone coo-coo for cocoa puffs Scott couldn’t handle it and almost never talked about what had happened out by the lake the day he went missing. The second thing of course was he had to lose the woman he loved twice, bury her twice and except her death a second time. All of these things had left a very different Scott Summers in the wake of rebuilding the school as well as his shattered life.

Life went on though, with the lack of Jean at the school the students still prevailed and although it was not Rogue’s graduating class, because it had happened the year before, the graduates of that year all gave commemorating speeches dedicated in loving memory to both the Professor and to Dr. Jean Grey long time Mutant advocates and civil rights activists. Rogue stood from the window sill she had been so causally leaning against. Logan had missed that particular graduation and he’d missed her graduation that had just pasted. Chancing a glance at the calendar which hung on her newly painted walls, drenched in rich burgundy, she saw that she had only graduated two weeks ago. She had turned 18 early on in the year, because she was a winter baby but she had only just graduated. Logan had returned with a graduation card and a pair of new gloves, every girls thrilling dream, but he hadn’t made it in time for the actual graduation.


Rogue had long ago given up the thought of an intimate relationship with Logan, but she had to say it really wasn’t her fault that she had felt something for the man in the first place. People didn’t realize, with the exception of the professor who she had brought into her confidence, that when people touched her Rogue didn’t just absorb their life but she sucked out their memories and their personalities too.

When she kissed David she remembered getting a glimpse of a dirty magazine that he kept hidden under his pillow and that he looked at every time he wanted too…. Have a good time because there was a really hot chick, according to his idea of one and he couldn’t help but come every time he saw her. Some bubbly blonde thing, Rogue couldn’t remember the models face it had been to long.

When Erik, Magneto that is, had given her his powers he had given her frightful memories of the Holocaust and she had never wondered what burning flesh smelled like but she didn’t go wanting for an answer after Erik touched her, she knew what it was to have someone shot in front of you and have their warm blood splash your face.


Though Surprisingly Logan’s memories were worse because he didn’t remember any specifics only pain, red hot searing pain that ran, in Logan’s case literally, down and through your bones. The man had been ripped open and gutted like an animal before metal the temperature of lava had been poured onto his exposed flesh and nerves, left their to harden and cool. Gross! Check please!


Rogue couldn’t escape from her mind and she carried these memories with her dutifully, but her favorite, ironically of Logan’s, was the night on the Statue of Liberty. No one knew, not Logan or even the professor but Logan’s thoughts, she meant to say, his exact thoughts when he was holding her waiting for her to revive, and then sobbing over her death were,

I’m so sorry darlin, please come back, please, quickly followed by I’ll give my life for it just don’t be gone.”

And that was when Rogue woke up, in his arms, somehow aware of what ice in the air smelt like and how she could smell burned skin, her own on the handles of the machine. He collapsed, she revived and she knew then, looking down on him in the freezing night air, gasping for breath that she’d always love him. How could she not when he’d thought something like that about her? When her own parents and kin didn’t feel that way?


SO, even though Rogue had given up the idea of having a relationship with Logan she never stopped caring about him, she couldn’t have turned those feelings off any more than she could have deactivated her own mutation. Truth be told, she had actually experienced more than one pleasant run in with the man. The most memorable of which had occurred right after Jean’s death. Her true death, the one that happened because of three admantium claws slicing into her. Truth be told Rogue knew she could have Logan and that dampened the fantasy for her a little bit, because she had always wanted him but not like that, not for a cheap thrill. The night after Jean’s death, words had been said and actions had been taken that couldn’t be undone, but it was a pivotal point in Rogue’s growing experience. She had only been 17 at the time and it was the first time that reality dawned and a little bit of epiphany like light had been shed on the true nature of her Wolverine, he was no hero.

He was a good guy with a wholesome heart but he wasn’t a man whose morals should be lived by. He had come onto Rogue and she had reciprocated because she had wanted him more than anything for more than two years but when she had it and she had him she realized she didn’t want to be a notch in Logan’s bed post. She wanted to be the one for him, she wanted him to want her the way he’d wanted…well….Jean. She wanted him to love her and she’d realized in that fevered moment between passionate kisses that this state of lust was exactly what she didn’t want. She didn’t want things to be weird between them. She didn’t want to be unable to meet his eyes because every time she did she would think of that moment when she left dignity at the door and hoped into his bed to be his comfort for the lousy five drunken minutes he could spare her out of his day.


~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~Memory~*~*~*~*~*~

Xavier was dead and Jean was dead and Rogue wasn’t safely tucked away in her bed like she should have been. She was sobbing in her PJ’s, in the REC room. It wasn’t the nicest place to be right now, but it was the quietest. They didn’t know where Scott was and of course it made sense he was dead, it didn’t make sense that Professor Xavier was dead-could be dead at all! Even from his wheel chair he was indestructible it seemed, but for someone as powerful as him to have fallen then anything seemed possible in that tragic moment, and Scott was probably dead.

All the children of the school were devastated and tomorrow would be the first graduated since the schools inception in which the Professor would not be handing out diplomas. Rogue was grateful that tomorrow wouldn’t be her graduation because that was supposed to be a happy time and tomorrow would be a dark day. No sound echoed from the hollow house, gutted by death and mayhem. The only sound Rogue could hear was her steady breathing and the sound of little sobs she had to let escape every now and then. She sat quietly in the dark lounge just letting her tears fall, wiping them on her gloves. That was when she heard footsteps, she at first figured it was a roommate following her and trying to see if she wanted to talk. Everyone wanted to talk, everyone was being encouraged to talk

“Come forward if your sad don’t bottle it up, we can help." Those were the sage words of Hank and Storm. She wanted to mourn but just in private and alone, who was up at this hour?

When the intruding figure was no more than 15 feet from her she was able to smell smoke and whiskey, which of course could only be Logan. She sat by a window, her preference, because the moon supplied light and only a trace amount. She didn’t want the harsh brightness of florescent lighting right now, her eyes were too sore from crying. She didn’t want Logan seeing her this way either but better him than one of the mansion’s other inhabitants. Logan came into view when he was about five feet away and he still hadn’t spoken a word, he held a half empty whiskey bottle in one hand a lit and smoking cigar in his mouth.

“Kid.”

It was more of a grunting acknowledgement than a real sentence or greeting and it was completely Logan. Rogue gave him a watery smile in response and sniffed because she was a runny mess from crying.

He sat next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world, even though she was only wearing a pair of sleep shorts, pink with large green turtles, and a tank top with gloves. She scooted over real quick and Logan grinned placing a hand on her wrist. He turned to her with that grin still in place, smiling around his lit cigar and said,

“I think the worst has already happened when it comes to me touchin’ your skin darlin, no need to worry over a little exposure.”

He took a long puff on his cigar and let his head fall heavily against the back wall, still facing Rogue but looking upward. They were lucky the ledge of the window was wide enough to accommodate both of them comfortably, but Rogue was small and Logan was lithe. He took a long drink of whiskey then and Rogue wondered how he was able to still speak coherently.

“Why aren’t ya drunk?”

“Healin factor, I drink, I recover- just means I have to try extra hard to get drunk,” and Rogue would always think it didn’t really happen but then Logan winked at her and she knew that he was three sheets to the wind, Wolverine simply wasn’t a winker.

“Uh-huh and is this your first bottle?”

“Ha,” there was that grin again, “this is mah third.”
Rogue gasped, “Logan you’re gonna knock yourself on your ass all right at that rate, you betta not drink all of that.”

Rogue was still sad and her tears had abated, she didn’t feel like she could talk to Logan about this, he was obviously hurting worse than her; after all he had been the one to kill Jean.

“Yea, yir right, here hun finish this up,” and Logan passed the bottle obediently to Rogue.

Rogue realized full on at this moment that Logan was beyond sloshed and probably very near alcohol poisoning. She had no doubt that had he been a normal man he’d be dead already. Rogue took the bottle and smelled it, after absorbing Logan things like cigar smoke and bourbon and especially* whiskey had all become like a piece of momma’s fresh apple pie, they just smelt right. She didn’t dare drink it though, she just intended to keep it away from Logan.

Silence stretched on, she played with the whiskey bottle wondering when he would mosey on off again. At least ten minutes had passed when Logan cleared his throat and said in a voice that at least sounded more like him, to Rogue at any rate.

“Why ya sittin down here in the middle of the night?”
The sadness settled back over Rogue like it had never left and she contemplated the bottle in her hand and decided she might want to drown her sorrows a little bit too.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Ya sad about the professor..?”

Rogue uncorked the bottle and took a long swig, forcing the dark amber liquid to the back of her throat and swallowing hard against the fire racing down her throat. Logan was still starring at her waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, him too…”

Rogue didn’t need to clarify who else she was referring to and just as she contemplated taking a second sip, because after all the first one had gone down so easily, Logan motioned for her to give him the bottle with his fingers beckoning her.

“I don’t know Logan, I think three bottles is enough, don’t you?”

She heard a growl and despite her horrible mood and the heart ache she felt she actually did smile a little. Albeit a sad smile but one nonetheless.

“Look kid, I actually kinda like ya, but you don’t seem to understand…that is mah whiskey and I want it back.”

Rogue couldn’t help but be amused at the picture Logan made sitting there. He was drowsy with the affects of alcohol but he was using a lot of effort to lean forward and concentrate on the bottle in her hands, he was pointing at it and the finger he was using waved menacingly in the air like an uncompleted threat that he hadn’t mentioned but existed nonetheless. He was starring at her intently and Rogue would never know where she got her nerve from at that moment but she brought the bottle up in front of him, he was fairly close to her what with both of them sitting on the window sill facing each other. She gave the contents of the bottle a light shake, so Logan could see the alcohol inside swishing around.

Then she brought the uncapped bottle to her mouth again and took a long pull from the bottle.
Logan watched her the whole time and she was only semi-aware of the glazed look in his eye but she attributed it, at the time, to his alcohol consumption. After her second sip Rogue’s throat was screaming and her stomach was on a fire, she unlatched her lips from the top of the bottle with a distinctive sucking sound, the sound your lips make when they smack wetly together. She gasped for air because she was trying to get the taste out of her mouth and she looked down at the bottle in her hand to see she’d left very little left for Logan himself.


Rogue exhaled in excitement because she could actually feel a buzz and it had never happened that fast before, she supposed this was strong whiskey and she knew that shouldn’t surprise her, what else would Logan drink?

“That wasn’t very nice Rogue,” Logan’s hand, the one which wasn’t protecting his cigar, came up to take the almost empty bottle out of Rogue’s hand and she relinquished it.

She expected him to go back to his bottle and finish what was left of the drink but instead he pushed it aside on the floor behind him, pushing it up against the wall and he started to move in closer to her.

“I think I ought to teach you some manner’s….”

Rogue was blushing in the light of the window and Logan knew it, he could see it and he wanted her to blush. He let a small grin play on the corners of his mouth, if she was blushing now he couldn’t wait to see what she would do later on!

“There’s not much left in the bottle, darlin’ and I only wanted a taste…”

Those were the last words Rogue heard before Logan’s mouth was on hers, and even though her first instinct was to scream, push him away and jump away before her powers started, something, presumably the whiskey, kept her from doing that. Instead she opened her mouth to him and she felt the wonderful sensation of having the man of your dreams suck on your tongue.

Granted, he was trying to suck the whiskey flavor away but damn if she didn’t love him for trying. Logan sucked hard on her tongue he separated from her only long enough to take a breath. Then he dove right back into her mouth, this time biting her lip and sucking even harder on her tongue. When her mutation didn’t take effect Logan pulled away, his hands holding her face through her hair and starred at her.

Rogue was breathing heavy, her chest was heaving up and down and her heart beat was pounding out a disjointed zigzag rhythm that she had never heard it make before, and truth be told after she’d gotten her mutation turned off Bobby and her had done a good deal more than kissing. It took her a minute to really realize why Logan was starring at her and then it hit her like a ton of bricks. He didn’t know, Logan had no idea that Rogue had gone and taken the vaccine to turn off her mutation. She looked him square in the eye daring him to judge her but he didn’t say anything, he only moved a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and pushed the veil of hair which had been protecting his bare hands from her cheek back behind her shoulder and he traced a bare finger over the curve of her face, he tucked the hair behind her ear, and brought his fingers down to caress her neck, stopping before he hit her collar bone. He brought the same finger back up following the curve of her chin and finding his way to her mouth where he spent the longest while just tracing her lips with his finger.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”

That was the last thing he said before he brought his mouth back to her’s. This kiss wasn’t passion filled it was slower and more sweet. He didn’t even use his tongue he was just kissing her on the mouth with his mouth and it was enough to make Rogue ache with the want for more. Logan was fully aware of her desire he’d been enjoying the scent of her for the last ten minutes and just when he was beginning to enjoy the unique taste that was Marie mixed with whiskey he darted out his tongue to play with her lips.

First he used his teeth and gently nibbled on her bottom lip, and when that earned him a little gasp from Marie, Logan took advantage of her open mouth and slipped his tongue into her mouth, rubbing it up against Marie’s tongue, trying to provoke a reaction out of her. It worked and his mouth filled with a moan she couldn’t hold in and Logan could be damned from that moment on if his own lips didn’t curve up into a grin of pride at being able to have such an affect on her.

Logan was pleasantly surprised to see that Marie still tasted like Whiskey and he picked up his earlier job of sucking the flavor off of her tongue, savoring the way it tasted like his favorite girl and his favorite drink at the same time. He felt Rogue’s finger nails raking down his chest and he gave her tongue a little nip in way of retaliating.

Rogue couldn’t enough of the man in front of her and, taking her que from the whiskey addling her brain she crawled into Logan’s lap, placing a leg on either side of his pelvis. She was surprised when two minutes later she felt his hand on her ass and Logan pressing up into her as he stood up. Effortlessly Logan picked up Rogue and carried her over to the couch. Rogue was actually very grateful for that one because the wooden ledge of the windowsill was beginning to hurt her knee’s. Once settled on the couch Rogue sought out Logan’s mouth in order to finish what they started but Logan buried a hand in her hair and pulled her head back instead. Rogue moaned as his mouth found her neck and he began kissing her all the way down, this time he didn’t stop at her collar bone.

Logan bit, sucked and tasted his way down and when he came to the top of her breast, the mound straining against the clothing of her halter top he bit down onto it and Rogue bucked against him in response.

“Logan! Uh!”

Rogue’s hips moved all on their own and she felt a bump between her and Logan and couldn’t help but blush realizing what it was.

“Tell me what ya want Marie.”

Logan left one hand tangled in her hair and the other firmly on her waist guiding her hips against him, he grunted in approval when she hit the right spot against him. He spoke to her from between her cleavage, his teeth nipping at the exposed flesh he could get to and his grizzly unshaven cheek scratched Rogue making her enjoy the sensations even more.

“Logan”

She was having a hard time concentrating, she was biting her lip right now just to keep from making noise and as it was she couldn’t help a few whimpers from escaping when Logan finally tore away her tank top and viciously attacked her breast. She cried out in full when he found her nipple and started sucking on it, rubbing it with the flat side of his tongue and biting around it until it was a hard pebble in his mouth.

“Logan, I don’t wanna fuck you on the couch.”

He growled as she ground down hard into him, the bump from earlier had turned into a full on rod and Rogue almost blanched to think of how big Logan was when he wasn’t restricted by jeans.
“I want this, I want you, you taste like whiskey-" Logan cut off to kiss her again, hard and rough and when he pulled away he slithered a hand down between them and rubbed two thick fingers up against the damped crotch of her shorts and continued to say, “and you smell so good.”
Rogue cried out and after a minute she felt Logan swimming around in her shorts, felt his fingers find her in the darkness of the REC room and felt something that she can only describe as the best sensation that any girl should ever feel. Logan’s thumb found her clit and pressed heavily on it and his index finger curled up and was inside her curling around her inner walls as she spasmed around it and bucked against his hand.


"Come for me darlin” He inserted another finger and Rogue could feel the end of his knuckles because he was trying to be so deep inside her.

“Ah, Logan I can’t keep this up, ah god!”

Rogue wasn’t able to speak anymore, Logan was sucking on her breast, and pumping his hand in and out of her, harder and faster by the second and she was bucking against him and she could smell her own arousal waffling out of her shorts and she wondered 1,000 things all at once. Could Logan smell her, did he like it? How long had he wanted this? Was this really happening? She hoped so because the sensations were only getting better and Logan must have known she was close because as Rogue started to come around Logan’s fingers he bit down hard on her breast and she cried out pitching herself forward thrusting her breasts against Logan’s face, slumping over so her head was on his shoulder and panting heavily in his ear. Logan let her catch her breath, and kept his hands in her shorts while she settled down.
She could still feel his fingers inside of her and she couldn’t help but clench even in the after math of her orgasm. She planted little kisses down the side of his face and he tasted salty.



“KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! Like hello are you dead in there, Roguey you have to come say good-bye before I leave for Tampa!”

Jubilee was knocking on her door and the sound of her old room-mate scared the crap out of her leaving her to realize that all her “reminiscing” about Logan had left her with a very uncomfortable wet sensation at the apex of her thighs. Rogue’s heart was beating in zigzags again, but it wasn’t only because of her Logan sex fiend thoughts but because of her friend catching her in the middle of a day dream. Rogue blushed a little and jumped up walking towards the door, she’d just have to change her panties after she was done seeing Jubilee off.

It was actually a long standing tradition at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters that every graduating class be given a vote and allowed to choose a place where they could spend the majority of the summer. Truth be told it was a huge ordeal and the kids of the graduating class were always only offered a few choices because they usually wound up going to similar places like Xavier’s, not schools so much as hotels run by, for the specific purpose of mutants. Usually the people who owned these places were friends of Xavier’s and usually Jean and Scott would chaperon but Scott didn’t seem to be in the chaperon mind set nowadays and was staying behind. Instead this year Scott, Hank, Professor Xavier and now Logan would be staying in the mansion. Storm and Kurt would act as the chaperons.

Rogue had never been to Tampa and she wouldn’t have minded the trip but something about all of the mutant high down in another state for more than a mere week, for a possibility of two months just didn’t seem like something Rogue was interested in. Instead she was getting a jump on her classes and taking summer courses in late August at the community College near Xavier’s. She couldn’t lie and say her decision to stay wasn’t slightly influenced by the fact that Logan was around to keep her company.

“ROGUE! It’s bad enough I’m doomed to wander the sunny state of Florida without you, you could at least come out here and say good bye!”


Rogue laughed because Jubilee was never a patient person and she marched to the door ready to see her best friend off. This summer promised to be anything but boring.

Rogue literally had to shake herself out of her daydreams…hmm memories really of her and Logan together
She marched up to her door determined to be clear minded and anti-Logan occupied when she saw her friend off for summer break.

Rogue opened up the door to revel an ever perky Jubilation Lee ready and waiting. She looked like someone who was Florida bound, covered head to toe in her classic yellow coat, sunglasses already in place and gum popping away, rogue knew she’d be perfectly at home in the sunshine state. Shutting the door behind her together Rogue and Jubilation walked down the halls until they reached the stair case and skipping down the stairs, because Jubes was definitely running off the after affects of a sugar rush. Rogue looked around her on the clear Westchester summer day.

The main gates were about 100 feet from the property and Rogue could see shiny black limousines pulling up the front of the mansion. Scott was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t a surprise. He kept to himself, quite, and he wasn’t up much in the morning anymore…although Rogue had never considered 10:30am the morning it’s more of the descent into brunch time.

“Oh Jubes, I’m gonna miss you!”

Rogue threw her arms around Jubes knowing full well that Jubilation would never be scared of her mutation. The younger girl hugged her back and promised to write, call and send pictures of all the hot men she saw regularly on the beach.

“Chika, are you sure you don’t want to come? Plenty of sun, lots of time to relax a little bit of beach side nooky?”

Jubes wriggled her eyebrows and Rogue could see them almost shooting into her hairline under her sunglasses.

“Aw Jubes, I’m lookin forward to stayin in the mansion without having everyone here, it’ll be nice break.”

Truth be told Rogue had a nice size of Logan left in her head and she couldn’t help still being a bit of a loner. She was unexplainably excited about being able to stay in one place and not be bothered by groves of people, specifically what the Logan in her kept referring to as, ‘a bunch of runts with nothing better to do.’ Speaking of which, Rogue craned her neck carefully scanning the front yard of the mansion, looking for a certain someone in particular, where was Logan?

“Uh-huh, sure Roguey, I’m sure it has nooooooooothing to do with the idea of being stuck alone in a mansion with limited people and big ol’ Wolvie to keep you warm at night.”

Rogue look down a little abashed, sure she wanted Logan. I mean how could she not? Not only had she carried a torch for him for a long time and not only was the man so drop dead gorgeous that he was sex personified walking and talking in tight, tight, TIGHT jeans, BUT on top of that Rogue knew what it felt like to be brought to the threshold of ecstasy by Logan and then….well she looked down blushing.

Rogue looked around again and this time she spotted Logan, Storm, Kurt, Hank, and the newly rejuvenated Professor Xavier. When Jean had killed the Professor, his body had disintegrated, but not his mind. In fact it wasn’t until the X-men met up with a powerful psychic mutant, named Emma Frost, that they were able to pick up on what she referred to as Professor Xavier’s psychic residue, which lingered around the property. It happened in a long about drawn out way but with the help of Emma they were able to take Professor Xavier’s active brainwaves and transplant them into the body of a brain dead man, who had been in a coma for nearly a decade. Now they had a new Professor Xavier, although the outside world still perceived him to be deceased.

Logan was hugging Storm good-bye and Rogue had never envied the weather goddess more in her entire life. Kurt was wagging his blue tail impatiently and mumbling something, but Rogue was too far to hear. She watched as Storm and Kurt climbed into the car, followed by the first group of their graduating class, Class Mutation. Then she watched Logan pick up a heavy, heavy case of what could only have been Storm’s luggage and saw his muscles ripple beneath his tight white wife beater. You just knew it was a fancy occasion when the man saw fit to wear a shirt.

“Ugh, look at you Rogue! I’m not even gone yet and you can’t stop walking into Wolverine Land-c’mon lady! Rogue, raise your right hand! Right now!”

“Jubes….”

“RIGHT NOW ROGUE!”

“ATTENT-HUT!” Rogue mock saluted but kept her right hand raised.

“I, Rogue,”

“I, Rogue,” the words came out in a bored and monotone voice.

“Having forsaken all hopes of a fun vacation in the sun,” Jubilee smirked popping her gum.

“Jubilation-

“REPEAT!”

“Jesus, having forsaken all hopes of a fun vacation in the sun…”

“Promise not to spend my entire time here chasing after Mr. Moody-pants trying to get into his fuzz filled little boxers.”

“Jubilation! Keep your voice down! The wind shifts and he hears you I’m going to die of embarrassment while you sulk off to sunny Florida!”

Rogue looked up, hoping desperately that Logan wasn’t starring in her direction. No such luck, strong hazel eyes were locked on her and Logan was watching with intense interest as she and Jubilation exchanged words.

“Jubilation! He’s starring at us.”

“Oh please, he is not.”

Jubilation took a minute to look over to where Logan was standing and confirming that he was indeed staring at them she handled the situation with her classic subtlety.

“Oh hey he is,” throwing an exaggerated hand in the air and sending out some small sparks Jubilee began waving incessantly,

“BYE WOLFIE! SEE YOU SOON! PLAY NICE!”

“Oh my ghad, Jubes you better get in the car before I kill you!”

“You know you love it,” and she winked impishly at Rogue before resuming her waving.

“Ok, well BYE Jubes! Have a great vacation!”

Rogue was goading her friend into the car trying to end this sticky situation.

“Alright chica, be safe, be careful, use a condom and above all don’t forget-”

“JUBILATION THE CAR FOR THE AIRPORT IS LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!”

Bobby and Kitty Pryde stood behind them waiting patiently for their turn to say good-bye to Rogue. Bobby and Kitty each hugged her and Bobby told her she could call him anytime. Even though Rogue and Bobby hadn’t dated for a long while now he had encouraged close lines of communication. She nodded to him sweetly and then watched as they each got into their assigned limos. One more quick hug from Jubes and Kitty and one sparky,

“Gotta go!”

courtesy of Jubes who left a kiss of tiny sparks shimmering in the air that she blew to Rogue from inside the limo. The limo began to pull away just as Jubilation rolled down the window the blow Rogue the kiss and Rogue laughed as she watched Kitty, who sat next to Jubes roll her eyes. Rogue saw a hand waving at her from the first Limo, she knew right away it was Kitty's, mainly due to the fact that this particular hand was waving through the window not out of it.Rogue watched as her entire class headed off to sunny Florida as the limos pulled away from the mansion, heavy tires making a grating noise as their rubber rolled over the crushed gravel of Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

Rogue noticed the remaining teachers as they walked into the house including Logan, who eyed her from the other end of the front yard. Rogue didn’t follow them though; she had no intention of starting off her free time cooped up in the house. Instead she opted to walk around in the garden for a little bit.

She walked the steady length of the property, marveling like she always did at the vast amount of it. She finally found her way into the backyard, which could hardly be called a backyard because it was grander than any back area she had ever seen. The tree’s were thick and sturdy and seemed to reach up 1,000 miles into the sky and the flowers were lush and in bloom scenting the area for a good 5 minutes in any direction. Rogue sat down on the soft dewy grass, she leaned back on her shoulders and let the sun kiss her face as she closed her eyes. She didn’t hear anything, no noise, no screaming, no recreational activities as various mutants ran around the property. The grounds were quite and a peaceful silence drifted heavily over Rogue just blissful silence.

Rogue watched as the other remaining teachers walked into the house including Logan, who eyed her from the other end of the front yard. Rogue didn’t follow them though; she had no intention of starting off her free time cooped up in the house. Instead she opted to walk around in the garden for a little bit. She walked the steady length of the property, marveling like she always did at the vast amount of it. She finally found her way into the backyard, which could hardly be called a backyard because it was grander than any back area she had ever seen. The tree’s were thick and sturdy and seemed to reach up 1,000 miles into the sky and the flowers were lush and in bloom scenting the area for a good 5 minutes in any direction. Rogue sat down on the soft dewy grass, she leaned back on her shoulders and let the sun kiss her face as she closed her eyes. She didn’t hear anything, no noise, no screaming, no recreational activities as various mutants ran around the property. The grounds were quite and a peaceful silence drifted heavily over Rogue just blissful silence.

Of Course not everyone was gone, only the majority of her graduating class. However Xavier’s was segregated in way. For instance the normal area for the kids who were still minors was attached to the back of the building. In the back of the building were the children’s dorms, lavatories, children’s library and a courtyard for kids to play with.

The area reserved for the adults was attached to the side of the building, adult meaning over 18 years of age. That was where Rogue was staying now; her new room was in the teacher’s wing, the west wing. Down the hall were Scott and Jean’s old room and next to that was Storm’s room. Next to her room was Logan’s room and directly across the hall from Rogue’s room was the room where Scott was currently staying because he refused to sleep in the same room where he and Jean had last been together. Next to that room was Kurt’s room and next to that room was Hank’s. Although Hank spent an absurd amount of time down in the laboratory located under the school, he almost never was in his room unless it was to shower and sleep some.

The East wing was the office oriented area of the building it had lecture rooms and board rooms and it was basically the touristic part of the school where Xavier would entertain parents and people who wanted to see where their children were going. Sometimes the parents knew that their child was in fact a mutant and attending a mutant school and sometimes they did not know. Mutants regularly acted up during classes so it was a good idea to have a front on hand that could be easily accessed and viewed without risk of exposure. Just like Bobbie’s parents for example, when they had first heard that Bobby was accepted to the school they had come to see it. They hadn’t been shown the actual classrooms, because Xavier had scheduled them to come on a Saturday, wisely. They’d been taken to the East Wing and shown the offices and sat down and talked, they’d been shown an empty classroom and took a tour of the grounds, avoiding the children’s court yard but being informed that there was indeed a play area of such activities. Rogue understood why it was necessary for some people, after what had happened when Bobby, Rogue, Johnny and Logan had visited…well Bobby was only now starting to talk to his parents again and Rogue didn’t see him and his brother becoming good friends anytime soon.

Rogue was just starting to adjust to how empty the mansion would be for the next few months. Many of the younger children who were under eighteen had gone home for the summer to their families. It was only those children who had nowhere else to go, or who had run away to begin with who were still staying and there were only a handful of them. Maybe ten-fifteen at best and of course they all slept in the dorms behind the school so Rogue would only see them at meal times. The rest of her graduating class was away in sunny Tampa and Rogue was secretly thrilled at living three doors down from Logan. Now that was the recipe for a good summer! Speaking of things which were good about Logan, Logan tossed her head back a little and started thinking about their steamy encounter last year. She wondered if he ever thought it about it too…

---

She was on top of him and spent from her orgasm, licking the taste of him off of her mouth. He was breathing heavy and he hadn’t even come yet. Rogue wanted to make him feel the same way he made her feel, but she needed to breathe, she just needed to remind her lungs how the process worked. Air in, exhale, air in, exhale, she thought she was getting the hang of it. They were still in the Rec room and the darkness seemed heavy, almost weighing them down. Rogue figured that was probably just the exhaustion of lust fulfilled. Her legs were still on either side of Logan, he was sitting on the couch, his breathing was getting steadier. Rogue was aware that his hands were still inside her shorts, still touching her but no longer inside her. Her hands were on his shoulders and she was resting her chin on his shoulder, she wasn’t ready to look at him. Rogue hadn’t been a virgin for a long time…well for a couple of months. Still this was making her head spin, did that just happen. She felt Logan start to nuzzle her neck with his mouth and she couldn’t help the lazy laugh that escaped her mouth. Her voice sounded husky, like the noise came from somewhere deep in her throat, was that her?

“Darlin’, you said you didn’t want to fuck me on the couch, I think we better go upstairs if that’s the case.”

“Logan, we need to talk about this-“

“Oh, bad idea,” and as if to punctuate his point Logan gave the side of her neck a kiss and kept kissing all the way down to her collar bone, planting kisses up and down her clavicle, skimming the top of her breasts and darting his tongue out briefly just to tease her nipples. Not again….

“Ugh, Logan.” Rogue couldn’t help moaning a little and bucking against him, she was feeling all of these pleasurable sensations and she wanted more.

There was no doubt that she wanted this, no question to her need, but she couldn’t do it here. They would have to go to Logan’s room, because she still shared a room with Kitty and Jubes but what happened when they got to Logan’s room? Well, heh she knew what* was going to happen what she meant was, what then? Would they just be back to smiles and nods in the morning? Would they go from there? Rogue knew Logan better than anyone here, sometimes better she thought than he knew himself. He couldn’t actually realize how hurt he was, but Rogue knew and she knew he wasn’t going to stick around and have his nose stuck in it. Sure he might stay for a while, a few months until things settle but then what? He’d be out on the open road again, more for his sanity than any other reason, and Rogue would be stuck here until she graduated. Did she really want to do this? Much to the disappointment of her well lathed nipple Rogue climbed off of Logan. Sitting down next to him on the couch.

Logan was confused, his favorite play toy had just been torn away from him while he was just starting to enjoy it, what the hell? He looked at Rogue confused and went to cover her body with his own, but firm hand on his chest and a,

“Wow, down bubba,” Coming out of Rogue’s mouth stopped him.

Rogue took a minute to take him in. He was more savage looking then Rogue had ever seen Logan, he was breathing heavy and his hair was sticking up from where she’d grabbed it. His eyes were lust crusted, it was the only way to describe them. She could see them from the light in the window, they were heavy with lust and half lidden, he was a little primal in this moment, she could tell. He was relying more on his senses then his human attributes. Rogue looked down to his crotch, his erection was still there, straining against the outline of his pants.

“Something wrong?”

“Logan…your mah friend sugar, and I know your hurtin’ right now but I can’t…-”

A low and menacing growl ripped outta Logan’s throat and Rogue realized this may have been the wrong approach.

“I wasn’t doin any of this cause I was hurtin, I was doin it because it felt good,” he gripped her knee for emphasis as he said those words and Rogue had to remind herself what the problem was.

She picked his hand off of her knee and took it in her own, interlocking their fingers. It was a little more intimate than she intended when she was revving up to give a friendship/grief speech but it seemed to calm Logan down enough to get him paying attention.

“IT does feel good, but I like havin you as a friend Logan and I like you bein here, I don’t wanna make this weird between us.”

“Ha, the only thing weird right now darlin is this talk interrupting the middle of the party.”

“Logan, you’re drunk and you’re hurtin, I wanna help you feel betta but I don’t wanna be another drunken roll in the hay in your long an distinguished career, sugar.”

Rogue added the endearment as a way of softening what she was telling him, Logan had never known that Rogue had memories of his sexual escapades, she had never told him. He knew Rogue had gotten his nightmares, he didn’t know she’d gotten…well everything else.

“Every man should have a trade darlin’.”

There was a smirk on Logan’s face and a glint of humor in his eye. This was the Logan Rogue knew and adored. She hadn’t seen this Logan since…well since before Jean had died. She hoped her next words wouldn’t kill the moment. She gave his hand a little squeeze for emphasis before beginning,

“Sugah, that’s just it, I don’t wanna be another one of your random jobs.”

She noted the way her accent thickened with her apprehension levels and realized it wasn’t the first time it had done so.

Logan sat regarding her for a moment, he admired that she would stop something he knew she wanted, something he could smell she needed so bad just to ask if he was Okay. She had stopped because she cared about him, cared about what she meant to him and what he meant to her. She wanted to preserve their friendship and he realized that she was saying no to him because he was afraid if they proceeded then he “wouldn’t” be around, he felt needed and he knew she was right in her assumptions about his grief. He didn’t know how to deal with Jean’s death and he didn’t want to, but he knew about lust. He knew about desire and sex and he knew that the woman in front of him was being closely associated with both those ideas in his mind. He wanted her, he knew that and he knew it wasn’t the whiskey or the dead telepath he had murdered out of mercy…out of love.

He brought a hand up to her face, encasing it in his palm and stroking a thick chubby thumb over her cheek, thinking about how long he had wanted this for, how much she really meant to him.

Rogue started at him as he did this, wondering what his thoughts where. She saw the craved look crawl into his eyes as they darkened in arousal and she wished fugitively for the power to read minds. His voice broke her trance.

“It could never be random with you, Marie.”

His thumb brushed over her upper lip and Rogue shuddered visibly at the sensation, she couldn’t help the way her head turned trying to prolong the feeling. She knew without a doubt in that moment as his thumb moved away, that not sleeping with Logan for the sake of their friendship was going to be one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

She turned her face away looking down and taking a breath trying to collect her thoughts. Her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick dry lips before she parted them and began to speak, hoping to make Logan understand, she was his friend and by the Gods she would have loved to be more, but not now, not on a night like tonight when they were both hurting.

“Ah can’t make it hurt any less Logan, Ah can’t be something I’m not for you…Ah can’t be Jean.”
Logan took his hand out her’s almost immediately and she heard the growl inside of him before she thought he had even given it permission to be heard.

“You think I wanted Jean like this? You think I wanted any of this?”

“I know you lusted after her Logan, I know you Loved her but-

She was cut off by the sound of Logan laughing, chuckling at her, darkly. There was no humor to the sound at all.
“Sorry Kid,” Logan spat the words at her and there was a distinctive weight to the word ‘kid’ as he spoke it, “but I don’t think you really know anything at all.”

That hurt her, how dare he. Didn’t he realize what it had been like for her at the mansion walking around with him rattling around her brain? Did he know she used to look at Jean every day to see what color panties she was wearing, hoping the material of her skirt or pants were thin enough to see? Did he know that she had spent two hours one time daydreaming about the weight, shape, taste, nipple color and feel of Jean’s breasts between her gloved palms? Did he know that she was probably the only girl walking around in the mansion who knew what the mighty Wolverine sounded like when he was in the throes of making love? That she knew every sound he made when he was pleased because she had every memory of him having a good time?
No, he didn’t know any of that and maybe if he’d ever stuck around longer than a month or two she would have had the opportunity to tell him.

That was when it occurred to Rogue that on a whole Logan hadn’t actually given a lot of his time, normal time not preoccupied by life saving and heroics, to Rogue. He hadn’t sat down with her once like the way they were now trying to talk things out or trying to better understand each other. Maybe he didn’t need to better understand her but she could say, with some damn certainty, that a little one on one time with him might have saved her a lot of trouble trying to figure a few things out, like why she had memories of someone slicing open her skin and pouring molten hot liquid steel over her bones, jut for example.
All this she remembered and Logan called her the ‘kid’ who didn’t know anything, ha, yeah right! In that moment, Rogue only wanted to hurt him. She sat up indignant and leaned in close letting her words spill pout of her in a subdued whisper that was crawling with her anger.

“Sorry Sugah,” She repeated his words back to him apologizing to him the way he apologized to her only moments ago, “maybe Ah don’t know a lot of things and maybe Ah don’t understand half of what ah do know, but ah know, Logan, without a god damned doubt, that when the going gets tough the tough get going, and sugah your about as tough as they come,” for emphasis Rogue gently smacked Logan on the shoulder, “you’re so tough that you have your ass out the door at the first thought of trouble and I’m not gonna be the one to fuck up the only good thing keeping you here.”

She meant herself. The one good thing keeping Logan here, she hoped, was her. She knew he had plenty of reasons to pick up and leave but she hoped that she was at least one of the reasons he could stay. She hadn’t counted on him disagreeing with that.

She knew she had crossed over into dangerous territory as soon as she heard that dark, humorless chuckle of his breaking through her anger addled brain and she was at a complete loss. All the sass in her face and voice just seemed to deflate and fall flat like a balloon that had had the air taken out of it.

Logan was still chuckling when he began speaking.

“You think you’re what’s keeping me here?” A
dubious tone lurked in his voice accompanied by the skeptic look on his face, “As in the only reason I’m not gone right now is because of you? Right darlin I forgot what a big part to play you had in all this.”

She didn’t know if it was her already broken heart over Scott, Jean and the professor or the fact that she had been ready to close the deal with Logan just a few minutes ago but something in her snapped just then. She didn’t have it in her to be laughed at by the man she loved… that little realization- the realization of what the Wolverine meant to Rogue- had taken its sweet time rearing its ugly head.

She’d spent nearly two years nursing a crush, that turned into an admiration, flirtation hybrid that in turn mutated-pardon the pun-into a deep caring and respect, which evolved into a … real love. Now that same man, one who she had almost been ready to go to bed with had turned around and laughed in her face? Rogue saw a new side of bad in that moment and she decided to make a point even if it meant not being in the clear at the end of the argument.
“Ha! Please Wolverine!” Rogue threw his code name at him like a slap in the face, she didn’t even want to pretend that he was close to her at this moment, “Mah damn point is, that you never stick around after sex,! Remember the twins in Ontario! You still had three days worth of work left up there and you high tailed it outta there because they knew where you were staying and came looking for ya.”

There, Log-Wolverine could shove that in his pipe and smoke it. Bet he hadn’t realized that Rogue knew about those pretty little twins and about a whole lot of other girls he had been with on top of it.

Rogue took one look at his pain laced face and thought fleetingly that perhaps, during this time of mourning, when they were both feeling a sort of heart ahce, that it wasn’t a good time to spring it on poor old Wolverine that Rogue knew what she knew. He seemed to look almost betrayed and the smirk that had been on her face slid smoothly to floor and evaporated as if it had never exisited. Rogue could see something stirring on the contents of his visage, something that she didn’t understand. Betrayal mixed with surprise and before Rogue knew what was happening she was starring into the face of one pissed off looking Wolverine.

“Xcuse me?”

It was a dark whisper and Rogue strained to hear it, she could see Logan was bracing himself for a fight…was he preparing to fight her? She gulped.

“Don’t get mad…”

It came out in a meek whisper, she thought her voice sounded much bigger than she felt.


“Well what the hell is that supposed to mean Marie?”

The deadly calm before the storm, which Logan had been emulating was ripped away and she could tell he was breathing erratically for a whole new reason now, he was angry! Really, concrete, no doubt about it angry. At her! …For what?!

“It ain’t my fault, I neva asked ya to touch me ya know!”

“Yea but I did and it saved your skinny hide, so why don’t you tell me what you’ve been walkin around with up there.”

He pointed to his head and rogue was standing now, he could go take a flying leap, he had no right to be mad at her. She never asked for his memories, never asked for his fucking love of cheap beer and stale cigar scented air, half the time she was bored she had the urge to smoke anything just to calm herself. That was there for life. She got to her feet and started walking away. She didn’t expect to get far, and he made sure he didn’t. Rogue was already heart broken over Jean, and the professor’s death. Scott's absence (she had to keep hope alive that he wasn't dead). Now Logan was giving her guff too? She couldn’t argue with him, not in the same room they had just …not where they had almost… just a minute ago, she felt sick now.

She felt him grab her arm, felt him turn her around like she was a rag doll, damn him, and then he spoke those five little words.

“Tell me what you know.”

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he was suppose to say he loved her and he wanted to be with her not just for lust but because he cared about her and then they were suppose to go upstairs and ‘bump pelvises’ as Jubes had told her until Rogue couldn’t see straight and until Logan didn’t want anybody else. He wasn’t suppose to get mad at her for caring and he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be too pre-occupied with what she did or didn’t know about him to realize he was fucking up their entire friendship, wasn’t he suppose to be the adult? She couldn’t help the angry voice that bubbled out spewing forth insults and hidden secrets that she vowed never to tell her precious Logan she knew.

“I know everything Logan! I know about the time with those two girls, where you just watched as they touched each other and you jerked off. Then when they were done you were so turned on you took turns fucking them, because they couldn’t handle how fast you got hard again! I know about the time you fucked that girl from behind cause you didn’t want to look her in the eyes, you shoved her face down into the pillow. I know about the stripper in Red Deer and the hooker in North Bay..."

Rogue was crying now and she was vaguely aware of her voice getting louder, but she didn’t care. Shoot she could wake up the whole mansion now, she didn’t care.

Logan was looking at her like he’d never seen her before and he relinquished his hold on Rogue’s arms and she couldn’t help the twisted little sob that shimmied its way out of her throat, god she was humiliated!

Logan for his part had never felt so betrayed in all his life, he felt like a deviant, like he was infecting this girl with his mere presence. She had only been sixteen when he’d first touched her reviving her on the statue of Liberty, and she remembered all that? She had retained all of those encounters and she never told him? She still managed to walk around idolizing him? Well he had to leave, that was it he couldn’t stay now.

“Kid you never said-

Through tears and with a great rasping to her voice as she tried to muster up the strength,she screamed at him.
“Don’t! Don’t call me a fucking kid Logan!”

Rogue turned to run away from him and Logan heard a high pitched, breathy “don’t you dare,” as she continued running up the stairs. Rogue’s feet moved faster than she thought possible, she stumbled twice and almost fell but she caught her balance and pushed herself forward. She just couldn’t look at him, god why had she said those things? She couldn’t go back to her room, she was a mess. Her hair was tangled and splattered across a tear soaked face, light perspiration was gathering on her forehead and her clothes were disheveled from her previous activities.

It made her sick to think that this was the same man who just turned on her in half a second, who had his fingers playing with some of her most sensitive area’s only moments before. She felt bile rise in her throat and thought she was going to be sick. She went to the only place she could think of, to the spare guest bedroom. She wasn’t eager to enter it because Logan’s room was looming threateningly only six or five doors down but what options did she have? All the Staff bedrooms had bathrooms inside and she needed to wash her face and relieve the rising bile in her throat. If Kitty or Jubilation woke up right now she wouldn’t be able to face them.

---

Logan could scarcely move, his breathing was erratic as he sat there listening to the still night sounds of the mansion. How long had she know? How long had she really walked around knowing about some of this inner most sexual fantasies and desires. He cringed at her last words before he released her, *the stripper in Red Deer, a women he’d met in a strip club he’d been bouncing for to earn extra money. A place he’d had to stop working at because after the night they’d spent together he didn’t want to see her again.

*The hooker in North Bay was worse, it was someone Logan had picked up and practically raped, it was consensual in the beginning both having met at a bar lounge, both going back to her hotel room and he was damned if he didn’t fuck the shit out of that woman. He’d almost torn her to shreds and his only way of compensating for it in the end had been to leave a crumpled up $50 sitting on the bed side table as she cried and hollered for him to get out.

Some of those events had happened right after he’d woken up though, he only remembered 15 years of his presumably long life but some in those first few years, and especially in those first few weeks Logan had been a monster. A savage beast that ate pissed shit and slept wherever it could. It took Logan almost a full six months to start dressing and eating like a real human again, and in those days he’d dream every night. Visions of medical labs with laughing doctors, always laughing celebrating their success, the clinking of champagne glasses and the sounds of bubbling water, his screams silenced in his watery prison.

The women he bedded in those days were just common whores, the kind of women you’d see sprawled across the page of a JUGS magazine, he’d never told anyone about the first few months after he’d woken up and he never got his memories back from his past, he’d spent 15 years looking for his previous life and he just never found it. He knew he was a man though, on the first few nights he spent running naked through the Canadian wilderness he didn’t know how to talk, or use his hands and he spent those days living like any animal would. Sleeping naked in the bush, hunting for food, drinking out a stream; he didn’t even start talking until the second or third day. How was he ever suppose to explain that Rogue? Maybe she already knew?
Shame wasn’t an emotion Wolverine was readily familiar with but he got the distinct impression that this urge to run and hide was actually a shade of embarrassment. He just didn’t know what to do.

He stood against the wall of the school, enjoying the balcony which was attached to his office. No, no don’t get shocked yet, but not only did he have his own office, but it was his official teacher’s office. Yep, Logan was a teacher of self defense at the school for mutants, had been ever since Xavier’s death. Technically he had always been on the pay role, at first as a traveling…agent for the professor. Xavier always gave Logan tips on where he could hunt down leads to his past and in the mean time Xavier would send Logan off on missions with the intent of gathering information on various things. Sometimes it was finding people; looking for certain mutants or hunting down leads on information for the professor. The professor always understood if Logan needed to check up on a lead that seemed fresh or useful where his past was concerned and the Professor compensated him and even paid for his gas and lodging fees. When Xavier had died, Ororo had become head master…errr… Head mistress of the school. At the time they hadn’t known Scott was an option because they all assumed Jean had killed him and truth be told even after they got him back he wasn’t really up to the task of running the school.

Logan hadn’t left though, not immediately in any event. He stayed long enough to make sure Ro’ got a feel for the school and supervised as she got a handle on things. He was there when Scott turned up and stayed long enough to realize that Scott was living in the wake up a deep depression and of course he’d stayed long enough to redefine one of the most important relationships of his life- but he wasn’t going to dwell on that right now- this was his outdoor cigar time, he wasn’t supposed to waste it thinking about shit he couldn’t change.

Eventually he did wonder off and he found it both ironic and eerie that he was most at peace at the mansion. Logan had retreated from the mansion shortly after having a sexual encounter with Rogue, which had both shocked and scared him for various reasons. He’d actually only just recently returned as the weeks rolled on towards July. He’d missed Rogue’s graduation and he knew that was a sore spot but he hadn’t even realized, he never thought of her as a student.

He left to escape but something nagged at him when he was on the road, he’d lost track of time those dark months after the Alcatraz Island incident but he thought he was gone most of Rogue’s senior year. He resumed living the life he had before Professor Xavier had recruited him, hopping from bar to bar, fighting in the circuit and earning a living doing odd jobs. He lived out of a backpack and off his Harley. He didn’t speak to anyone on the road and he never called the mansion because who really wanted to talk to him? It wasn’t until he decided he wanted to see how things were going, it wasn’t until he couldn’t push the pain down any farther, until he could no longer drown in whiskey or bourbon and couldn’t afford anything stronger, that he decided to head back.

Of course when he arrived he told himself firmly that he was here to pay his respects to the graves out back (Jeans and Xavier’s) and see how Ro’ was running the school nowadays before hitting the road again.
Of course things never go as planned. When he walked in the mansion and smelled the familiar smells of the Institute he felt a peace he hadn’t felt in months, when he saw Ororo and hugged her too him and felt her hug him back, he knew there were people here who had needed him. Still he thought to himself, best not to settle somewhere that he had caused misery. He knew he was no fan of Scott’s, although the troubled man seemed to understand that Logan didn’t have a choice.

The days past quickly but Logan’s hollow empty feeling retreated and he was ready to hit the road again, but then Emma Frost showed up. Logan hadn’t believed in coincidences and this was no exception, but there she was on their doorstep days after Logan’s return boasting about being able to resurrect Xavier and her dreams which revealed that he was indeed around but on another dimensional plane. Then they had Xavier and they had Scott and the only person they didn’t have was Jean and Logan was to blame and here he was unable to face the music while Scott had lost the love of his life and Xavier had been dead for a year- who the hell was he to talk about problems in the face of these men? To make him feel worse Xavier welcomed him with open arms and told him to join the team, and the staff and that was exactly what Logan did.

All of this seemed a lifetime ago, but it was going on a year now. He surveyed the grounds in front of him with a stoic face, his office was located in the teachers wing and like all the rooms in this part of the mansion, it was located in the East wing of the building giving him a balcony which over looked the lush green gardens of Xavier’s Institute. He leaned casually against a wall, his cigar perched between his teeth. He loved sunny days with clear skies, the taste of smoke on his tongue and the sun on his face. From here he could clearly see the graves located in the back of the building, across the garden. He couldn’t help but marvel at the amount of changes that had occurred here in such a short time and he was even more surprised to find that not only did he care but he was a part of them. It was different for him now, he was no longer the silent observing fluttering along the outskirts of society, seeing but never participating. This school stood for something else other than a safe haven for mutants; it was a home for him and the one place in the world where his face was recognized, where he could claim he belonged…where he had a job to do.


It stunned him that the man who had brought him into all this, the same man who had created the single place which benefited so many other mutants, was considered to be dead by the rest of the worlds standards. Logan had never been a great fan of the telepath who had helped them rediscover Charles Xavier’s telepathic residue, or whatever. He was grateful to the frosty women (whose name did her justice) because she had been able to bring Charles Xavier back into their lives; the man had been at the end of his life and living in a body which refused to work at 100% efficiency, he was confined to a wheel chair. The months after his death had been long and arduous even after Scott was found and moved back into the mansion. Emma Frost showed up one day and wham bam alacazam! The man who they all knew and loved as Charles Xavier was back in their lives, taking up residence in a body of a man who had been coma-stricken for a great part of his life. Charles powers of course were ever present, as was his British accent, which was odd, but getting him back had been the one bright spot in the darkness that had hovered over the mansion after Alcatraz Island.

He exhaled the smoke of his cigar; the sound came out more like a sigh because even to him it was unacceptable that Jean was never coming back. People needed to understand how he felt about Jean, how it wasn’t just a man who loved a woman, although killing her under those circumstances was tragic enough. Thinking about her was painful but not thinking about her hurt more, it felt as though he were betraying her memory when he tried too hard to forget her.


Jeannie was a beautiful woman in his eyes and being a man and partly an animal he could never turn down a good looking woman. Sure, there were women out there who made his skin crawl even if they were attractive, Mystique for one and that crazy Asian bitch with the claws like his, she was a solid second on his list for women he could never bring himself to touch without being repulsed. Evil was a turn off and maybe that was ironic because Logan knew he wasn’t a upstanding member of society, but he tried to do what he felt was right and hey shit happened, he had killed but in self-defense and he had hated but wasn’t he justified if the person he hated was, for example, trying to kill him slowly from the inside out? Striker came to mind and he repressed a growl and wondered about the logistics of leaving a man to die, but Striker was more beast than man and more of an animal than even Wolverine could claim to be. Striker had been a savage.


If evil was a turn off to him was it any wonder that Jeannie had been such an appealing piece of ass? The women was nearly a saint, she wasn’t only a fighter for mutant rights, speaking before congress and petitioning against the mutant registration act, but she was a good person, a sweet and dear friend. She was a powerful mutant, and Logan cringed at the realization of her true power… at the memories associated with it. Jean was an intelligent woman who gave her all fighting on and off the battlefield. You just didn’t meet women like her every day, women who could fight with words and still dressed up in leather jumpsuits so they could fly a jet half way around the world to better aid a stranded mutant or to defeat a bunch of bad guys who couldn’t get a grip. Logan didn’t have to think twice to know that something that drew him to Jean was her personality as a fighter, both in the Political arena and the war arena. A woman who would give her life for the greater good, and had on more than one occasion risked it for that very thing. She may have been responsible for Xavier’s death but that wasn’t the Jean that Logan knew, the Jean that Logan knew was best remembered as the women who locked the entire crew in the Jet and sacrificed herself to doom of a watery death when the dam broke at Alkali Lake. She gave up her life, her love and her future just to save her fellow team mates.


That was the way Logan chose to remember Jean, the way he wanted to think of her now and always. Her bravery and her grace and not the damaged part of herself that had destroyed so much; Jean was the first woman in Logan’s life that he could honestly say he admired. Did he love her? Of course, he loved her the way he loved anyone, and since he only had 17 years worth of memories there weren’t many people who fit the bill. He had loved so little and known much pain, but the love he felt for Jean was not borne out of the desires he harbored for the sexy red headed doctor. He loved her as a team mate and a friend. As a women who stood up against the bad things that went bump in the night and a women who risked her life for the benefit of others. The Jean he knew, the one who he loved and admired would never have wanted to be responsible for the death of her lover or the destruction of her mentor and his principals.

That night on the bridge, when they were on Alcatraz Island Logan knew that with the professor deceased the only option to save Jean was to shoot her full of the cure. If he did that then she would still be Jean, but she would never be the same again. The Jean he knew could not and would not forgive herself for what she’d done. She may have been harmless without her powers but what would she have been like with the knowledge of what she’d done? The people she murdered and the lives she’d ruined? That night Logan had told Jean that he loved her and what he’d done was both an act of love as well as an act of mercy, he’d set her free. He would have done the same for any of his other team mates.


His cigar, being spent, was flicked into the wind and he watched as it fell below to the plush grass, the smell lingered in the air and he inhaled deeply taking what clam he could from the soothing familiar scent. His eyes fell to the grass where the cigar landed, he didn’t know why he choose to look down but he did and he rested his eyes on the small brown stub before flashing them over the rest of the grass and surveying the general area of Xavier’s Institute. That was when he saw her, sitting there on the grass, face shoved up towards the sky soaking up sun, he’d bet good money that her skin was warm. Her hair was loose and it flowed around her, hanging down past her shoulders and falling gently against her back. Her hands were spread out behind her and she seemed to be...in pain?

Logan had a fleeting thought in the back of his head that it was slightly creepy the way he was watching her, intently without her knowledge, but hey he couldn’t help being observant could he? He stepped forward slightly, leaving the security of the wall behind him. He was pretty sure from Rogue’s vantage point that she couldn’t see him when he was standing against the wall, if he leaned flush against it he was gone from her sight, but he could still crane his neck to see her from there. Walking to the edge of the railing though, which is exactly where he was, left him wide open to her gaze, if only she’d turn his way. He hoped she didn’t, he wanted this opportunity to study her face.

Her eyes were closed and the sunlight that peeked through the trees ran in speckles over her features, kissing her cheek bones and spilling into her hair, highlighting the color. He could see every detail so distinctly, almost as if he was standing in front of her and he silently thanked his mutation. Even though her eyes were shut Logan could tell that her expression was far from peaceful; as a matter of fact she seemed to be wincing. He wondered what she was thinking about and he could almost swear that he could see something glittering in the corner of her eye. Was Rogue crying?

Just as suddenly as her eyes were shut, they opened and Logan took a precautionary, if not instinctual, skip backwards trying to avoid being spotted. He craned his neck as far as it would go as soon as he deemed it safe and he was relieved to see that Rogue had not noticed him or if she had she wasn’t giving it away. She sat undisturbed on her spot on the grass and he realized she must have been crying because he could see her wiping at the corners of her eyes. He wondered what was on her mind and he walked purposefully off of the balcony, back into his office and headed toward the back of the mansion to see what was up.

As Logan walked towards the back door which would take him outside he realized how little he and Rogue had actually interacted since he’d left. They hadn’t spoken much since his return either, but he attributed that to his missing her graduation, he hoped it didn’t have anything to do with the incident that had happened after Jean’s death.



Logan could still remember that night; he could recall it with painful clarity. The feel of her skin and the scent of her on him, it was odd for him to remember a passionate interlude that hadn’t even been brought to fruition, after all they hadn’t actually slept together. Still, he realized that night that he could lose himself in that moment; he could surrender all the pain and ache he carried to the untouchable girl with the sad brown eyes. He realized, and it frightened him, that he wanted too. What he felt for Marie he couldn’t put into words and that night on the couch had meant more to him than any other sexual experience he’d had in the last seventeen years. He had to confess he had felt something almost electric sitting there in the dark touching her and he itched with the sensation of want, the need to feel it again.

After they had argued and after she had ran upstairs, he had the urge to do a thousand different things. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream, shout, cry, kill, fight, fuck and…fade. He wanted to fade away; he wanted the alcohol that failed him to be replaced with something that was capable of sinking him into a new level of numbness, a level where he could be shielded from the intense regret and pain that was pressing in on him. The pain of being Jean’s murderer and waking up the Phoenix and not being able to save the Professor, all the impossible tragedies that seemed to overwhelm him and all he wanted was to escape from it all.

He didn’t have the best handle on reality at the moment, but he knew that the only outlet he’d gotten all day had been on that couch with Rogue.

The biggest secret he kept, the darkest little lie he ever did tell that he kept locked up tight in the back of his mind that he didn’t think even the most powerful of telepaths could wrench from his mind, was this. He was staying for her, for Marie, she was without a doubt the only reason he wasn’t a million years away, she was the only shred of sanity he had left. He was lost in Canada with no memory and nothing to his name before she crawled in his trailer and she had saved him from that agony, because when Magneto sought them out, sought her out, so did the X-men. That was how he’d come to be here, how he’d started a life here to begin with and formed connections with the Professor who actually was a decent guy trying to help him. Logan was no fool, he knew it was an entirely different situation, but truth be told he was sticking around because he wanted to see if she could do it again. He wanted to know if she could drag him out of the hole he’d buried himself into and he firmly believed she could, Marie could make him feel better about anything, even murder.


He couldn’t stand the sight of the couch in the REC room, the rumpled pillows and disheveled cushions seemed to mock him with the memories of what almost happened. He went to his room because he needed a shower; he needed to get the smell of her off his skin. If Logan tried and he knew it wouldn’t be that hard he could get right back into the mood of him and Marie finishing what they started. He smelled her every time he breathed and he needed to remedy that. He took a long hot shower and while he turned under the relaxing spray of the water he thought of any way he could make this better.
He thought of his memories contaminating her mind wondered what she thought of him, really thought of him. He scrubbed furiously at his skin all the while until all he could smell was his skin and soap and a light trace of blood from his efforts. He thought of how she must have every memory and how she still looked at him like he was the center of the universe. Was he a selfish bastard for wanting her? For wanting to taint that too?

He thought of her on top of him, breathless and bucking against his hand. Was he wrong to want that? To need it? He’d never thought of Marie as a kid, “kid”, not since Magneto, not since she’d told him about some of her road stories. He was clearly aware of when he started thinking of her a woman and not a girl or a child. When her hips widened and her hair grew long and her eyes grew wise, he’d looked at her as a friend and the fact that she was undeniably fuckable didn’t hurt either. Standing there in the shower his thoughts of Marie’s body led him down a different path. He scrubbed furiously and when memories of previous moments in the REC room invoked and unsatisfactory reaction in him he turned the water to frigid cold, as icy as he could bear and stood under the spray until the heat from his skin evaporated.

Getting out of the shower and toweling off, he put on a fresh shirt and sweats, he was himself again. No alcohol remained in his system and right about now he had a hankering for a beer a cigar and…well a little Marie time. He needed to set things straight with her, hell if it killed him he was going to swallow his pride and face up to what she said. If she had memories of him carousing with other women it was no wonder she thought he was going to fuck and discard her. She needed to know that he didn’t feel that way about her and that he had every intention of helping her get over the grief that was drowning her because it was drowning him too. Maybe she had friends and Bobby-that little ice stick to help her but Logan only had Marie. Maybe if he got desperate he could talk to Ro’ as well but Marie was his girl, he wanted it to be her he went through this with. And as he left his room he realized he didn’t have a chance in hell of expressing this to her in words without screwing it up. He had to try though.

He strode confidently down the hall, very intent on marching up to her door and refusing to leave until she came out. He’d even camp outside her door if he had to but he was going to talk to her and those little roommates could probably be used to his advantage if he annoyed them enough they might even hassle Marie into dealing with him and she’d be forced to talk to him. He was only a couple of doors past his own when he caught a familiar scent and heard a very familiar whimper. Where was that coming from? He sniffed again and followed the smell to the guest bedroom, he put his ear to the door and he could hear Marie...sobbing? He was hesitant at first, should he knock? Tell her he was here? Was she crying over their argument?


Of course she is you asshole she was crying when she ran away and she still is

The little voice inside his head made him feel even more like shit and his hand automatically raised in the shape of fist ready to knock when he smelt it. Fear. Absolute, pure and undiluted terror. He was opening the door before he knew what was happening and it was just fortunate that Marie hadn’t bothered locking the guest bedroom-not that it would have stopped him but he figured this wasn’t the time to be running up bills at Xavier’s because he’d torn the door to shreds. Wasn’t like the headmaster was around to spring for the financials anymore. Charging through the unlocked door he ran into the darkened room and followed the sounds to the bed, salty sweat hit his nose and he grimaced, even if it was Marie, it wasn’t a bad smell, but this sweat was laced with fear, it was a cold smell and as he approached the bed he could see the shiny sheen of sweat settling over her skin. She whimpered again and he rushed closer, kneeling on the bed with his knees and grasping her shoulders. He shook her, lightly at first calling her name. When that had no affect he shook her harder, he heard her teeth chatter lightly but he didn’t care, she needed to wake up.

“MARIE!”

Her eyes burst open, but she was so disoriented that she started scratching, biting, squirming and…growling?

“Darlin it’s me! MARIE, its LOGAN!”

He crushed her body against his own all the while whispering soothing please for her to calm down, and muttering reassurances. He could hear her heart stammering against her chest and the beat was so frantic and the smell of fear so intense in the air that he wondered what she was dreaming about, she couldn’t be dreaming what he thought she was…

Marie had told him once that she had nightmares, but the terrors she described to him had more to do with the idea of being the forever untouchable…she’d never mentioned anything like this though.

Then she was sobbing into his chest, big salty tears soaking through his wife beater and leaving him at a total loss of how to handle the situation, he tucked his chin against her soft hair and kissed the top of her head.

“Shhh, shh, it’s over just breathe.”

She could hardly catch her breath and he rubbed her back to coax her into calming down.
He wanted to get up, get her a glass of water or something but she had a vice like grip cutting into his shoulders and arms.

She was still panting heavily but the tears had stopped, Logan knew he was going to hell. Seriously if he had ever doubted it before this moment, he now had confirmation. Marie was in his arms, she smelt heavenly, fear smell aside, and he was on a bed, holding her and she was breathing heavy and clutching at him. Immediately his head filled with the only other situation that would have her against him, clutching him, breathing against him. He was going to hell, but he cast those thoughts aside and concentrated on doing the right thing, the nonsexual thing.

He muttered some more reassurances before whispering against the shell of her ear.

“Tell me about it?”

His hands were around her back, and her face was buried in his chest, one tiny hand was on his shoulder and the other was clutching the bicep of his upper arm. She wasn’t crying anymore but the fear smell lingered and she was panting still, unable to catch her breath.
He felt her head shift as she pressed her ear against his chest, he immediately smelled the salt that was probably staining her cheeks in the form of tear tracks and when her breathing evened out he figured she was being soothed by his heart beat, and he found that kinda cute. He stroked her hair and waited it out, trying to be calm for her sake. He prayed with every fiber of his being that she wasn’t about to tell him a summary of his own nightmares.

When she spoke her voice was weak and very faint, it sounded like someone had washed the life right out of her and Logan was actually scared when he thought about it that way.

“Do you remember when we first met and I asked you if it hurt when they came out?”

“Yeah.”

His voice was rough, course with his own anger and fear.

“I never thought about how much they hurt when they put them in…”

She bit her lit, and Logan heard a muffled sob choke its way out of her. He didn’t smell fresh tears though and she was trying to get her breathing under control.

“I guess you got those too huh? The nightmares…”

She pushed away from him suddenly and it nearly killed him to think she didn’t want him holding her, but when he saw the way she looked at him he realized she wasn’t disgusted by him…not yet anyway.

“Logan, about what ah said, I’m so, so-

“Shh shh, shhh,” he hushed her with gentle fingers against her lips and brought his hand up to cradle her face.

“You never told me about any of this kid.”
He knew she wasn’t a kid but he had to keep telling himself he wasn’t the one who corrupted her.

“You never asked. Don’t call me kid, either.”
Her tone wasn’t angry but the weak voice she had a hard element to it, almost gruff, almost like him.
He ignored her tone; he wanted to help her, even if she hated him.

“How often do you have them?”

“Oh they’re not so bad, its worse when I dream about concentration camps and Nazi Poland.”

If she was trying to make him feel better she really sucked at it.

“I’m sorry.”

It hung in the air like the depressing wet blanket it was, she looked down at her hands, she was sitting up and he was sitting across from her on the bed, studying her.
He was so busy looking at her face he didn’t see her hand when it went for his.

“Ya mean the world to me Logan, Ah didn’t mean to hurt ya more.”

He tried to focus on the moment but he was sidetracked by her accent reappearing, it seemed to pop out more when she was talking about him and her. She squeezed his hand and he understood in that moment that he would never risk their friendship for the sake of his arousal. He’d meant it when he told her it could never be random with her, but he also realized that she wasn’t ready. Despite the decades of knowledge she carried around in her mind and despite how that knowledge seemed to soak through her robbing her of her youth and leaving behind an ageless soul in a young body, she was not ready for a physical relationship with him; honestly he’d walk through hell barefoot before he forced one of her.

“You should sleep,” he squeezed her hand back.

If she needed his friendship he could give that too her, his heart still ached for Jean and his decision to set her free, he still felt raw pain when he thought of the professor and he knew things were never going to be the same again. Even between him and Marie, not two hours ago he had fingered her on the couch in the REC room, but clearly it wasn’t meant to be. He only hoped they could go back to being what they were before, more than friend and less than lovers.

“Stay with me?”

Pleading, leaking out of her voice and her eyes, soaking into him, he wanted to laugh, didn’t she know he wouldn’t ever leave her if she needed him?

“Always darlin.”

They cuddled up together, it was platonic as a man and a woman sharing a bed could get. He stretched his body out behind her’s and draped a casual arm over her waist, curling his other hand under his pillow. She clasped that hand in both of her’s and he kept a slight distance between their bodies, a gap between his chest and her back. After all he was still a man and the last thing he needed was for her to rub up against him in his sleep and for mini-wolverine to get all slap-happy.






The next day when Logan woke up him and Marie continued their same friendship, and he was relieved that she seemed willing to forget about their interlude the night before. Truth be told when your grieving, when’s someone’s died, you instinctually reach out to another person so you can feel alive again. In the wake of their grief, and in the depressing months to come they buried what they’d done together under excuses and kept up with light friendly touches and talks over the next few weeks.
When Logan couldn’t pass the REC room with feeling himself stiffen, and when he couldn’t sit on the couch without getting hard he knew it was time to leave. Whether or not Marie felt the same way was irrelevant because he couldn’t stay and force himself on her and whether or not she wanted him to stay he couldn’t comply, at least for right now.


He needed the air of the open road in his lungs and he needed his head clear because if he stuck around he was going to take advantage of her and he truly didn’t want to overwhelm her. She didn’t deserve to warm his bed because he felt heartbroken over killing fellow X-men. When and IF he took her into his bed he wanted it to be on her terms and because she wanted to be there, not because he was broke and drunk one night. Truth be told he still wasn’t over the guilt and he still kept a bottle of whiskey handy at all times, he couldn’t let her see him like that again. The point of those dark moments was to lose control, he couldn’t afford that luxury at her expense, after seeing what happened the last time he obviously couldn’t be in that state again with her within five feet of him.


So he left, told her was leaving, said he’d see her soon and wished her well. Told her not to worry and gave her back his tags to hang on to, she didn’t seem mad, but sad. Not heartbroken but quietly defeated, almost limp with the knowledge that she couldn’t have kept him here even if she wanted to, she was depressed with his departure but she accepted it, accepted him. His heart burned when he left because he knew damn well what an idiot he was being and knew that she was forgiving him for it before he even got out the door. He bucked up though and told himself he was leaving because it was the only way to get back to being himself.


He was walking through the garden now and Rogue was only five feet from him, she was lying down now in the grass. One arm was bent at the elbow behind her head, her feet were crossed at the ankle and her shoes were lying neatly next to her.

Looking back over the last couple of months he had been right to leave when he did. Those five months he spent on the road were some of his darkest moments and they made him realize that he was grieving the death of a loved one and it was normal to be anguished. He didn’t need to throw away his life in the pit of a fighting cage in Canada just to function. Truth was that time away from the mansion made him realize his misery had nothing to do with this place or the people here, it was him. He needed to straighten up himself on his own and he knew the best place to do that was here as soon as he walked back through the door.

Rogue sat with her body plush against the ground, enjoying the beauty of the day. Memories danced their head like forgotten lullabies and she breathed them in, watching the events unfold behind her closed eyes.
She saw her backyard as a child in the house in Meridian where she grew up, she felt the thick stifling heat of a Mississippi August itching its way up over her skin and biting at her nerves. She felt the cool breeze fan her face and she imagined that it was a treat because breezes in the middle of summer back in Mississippi were few and far between and they carried the smell of barbeque and charcoal and beer, the smells of her childhood.

She could vividly see her backyard, the white picket fence enclosing the small area. Her mother’s tomato plants and herb garden growing off to the side, and her father on the concrete part of the path barbequing, ribs, chicken and steak as he guzzled down beer after beer, thick clouds of smoke waffling off the grill when he’d had to much and burned the meat.

Ironically the thing Rogue centered on during her stroll down memory lane was the hammock which swung gracefully in her backyard. A thick, woven net of sturdy white rope attached to two thick steel rods which were planted firmly in the ground. Marie could see herself as a child chasing after her younger cousins, in a spirited game of tag. They’d run around until their pulses pounded in their heads and then they’d fall down dizzy swing away in that stupid hammock.

She was lying on the grass now and that was comfortable enough, one arm was bent at the elbow and tossed carelessly across her face blocking out the sunny light. Her eyebrows furrowed at the memory of the hammock and she realized that the only thing missing from this pretty sunny Westchester day was a hammock, and someone to sit on it with.

She didn’t have to think to know who she’d love to share a hammock with on a beautiful sunny Westchester day, of course it was Logan.

She wanted the relationship she used to have with Logan, the old one where they were comfortable and easy with each other where everything was natural and familiar. The Logan she used to know, not the horny drunkard who’d fingered her on the couch, was the man she wanted to curl up with on her hammock on this gorgeous sunny day.

Marie had kept up her end of the bargain she’d given Logan all he ever wanted. She gave him toothy smiles and friendly gazes, warm hugs and the idea that they were still friends. They weren’t okay, or at least their friendship wasn’t okay. Because friends didn’t finger each other drunkenly in the dark and friends sure as hell didn’t go a year without talking only to secretly pine for each other, well maybe the pining was one sided. Rogue had Logan in her head after all, if he was in any way still interested, he’d have made another move by now.
That night she’d been inexperienced, shy, a blushing virgin. She hadn’t even had a chance to be with Bobby romantically, attending three funerals in a two week span didn’t exactly put you in the mood. Now though she’d gotten her fill of experience and she longed to show the Wolverine what she’d learned.

The first time with Bobby she’d hadn’t been nearly as turned on as she had been on the couch with Wolverine. Bobby was young and inexperienced, kind and sweet. Logan was fierce and feral, fire and heat. It was like apples and oranges. Rogue wanted Logan, through all her admittedly short lived sexual escapades with Bobby, she had only ever gleamed satisfaction by thinking about Logan’s reaction. How would he react if I touched him there? Would his breath hitch the same way Bobby’s did if I used my mouth on Logan like that? How can I get Logan to moan out load into my open mouth?

She never found anyone that made her blood turn to fire or heart race, she never re-discovered the spark that hard flamed her insides that night with Logan on the couch. She never tumbled over that unexpected urge to grab the man she was with by the mutton chops and jump into bed with him and she knew as she perused through different guys that it was because there wasn’t really anyone quite like Logan out there.

He’d come to her like a crying child with a bruised knee, only his pain ran deeper than that because he had murdered the women he loved. Rogue harbored no misconceptions about what her night with Logan would have been like, passionate and amazing. Not real though, not concrete. He would have taken comfort in her bed and she sighed forlornly thinking about the missed night of passion with Logan. Logan was sex personified; he was a walking orgasm in snug jeans with a big belt buckle. Her throat went dry just thinking about what it would be like to take a man as sexual as him and actually spend the night in his bed. Hell, Logan could make drinking beer and belching look sexy, Rogue felt a shudder run through her as she thought about what it would be like for the two of them if they’d made it off of the REC room couch.

She shifted on her back under the trees which were rustling in the breeze, providing a soothing mid-day melody. The idea of Logan’s bed made Rogue flush and heart race even though it’d been a full year or so since their one and only sexual encounter. Logan was what she wanted, he was her best friend, he made her pulse quicken and her eyes darken. He was hot, he was sexy, he was bonafide man meat, he was....

He was standing right in front of her, with a shit eating grin on as he stared down at her like she was caught red handed in the cookie jar.
Rogue didn’t know how long she’d been fantasizing about Logan while she was sitting out here, but she knew her little jog down memory lane had left her wanting…mainly him. IF the winds shifted he would easily be able to tell. Maybe if she crossed her legs? Would that help or make it worse?

“Hey You.”

“Hey yourself.”

Was that her voice? Why the hell did it sound so parched? Her throat hadn’t been that dry when she’d come out here….

It was the most they’d spoken since he returned, minus the chase pat on the back she’d given him when he’d come back a week late for graduation. She wasn’t letting up on that, graduation in of itself, when you took away the whole proud parents thing and the money for gifts thing, basically meant very little. She had at least hoped Logan would have been around for the occasion if for no other reason than the photo opt.

He hadn’t as much as offered belated congratulations.

“Nice day, huh?”

Good, monosyllabic conversation with Logan something really never do change.

Logan sat down next to her on the grass and Rogue started talking to keep her thoughts occupied.

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous out today I hope the weather holds, ya know while Storm’s on vacation with the others,” she laughed a little nervously and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Logan studied her as she moved, she was beautiful. God he wanted her, he wondered what she would do if he just jumped her. Just a little. He pushed those thoughts away hastily, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t fuck up their friendship just for a roll in the hay. He also promised he’d protect her, he wish he knew how.

“Hey, Logan? Anybody home?”

She snapped her fingers in front of his face, which was clearly zoned out and without thinking he brought his hands up to her wrist and wrapped his fingers around it, yanking her arm and in effect her, towards him. It was purely a reaction, he was zoned out and something was swimming dangerously close to his face. Instinct alone told him to secure the item in question and bring it closer to investigate, the fact that it was Marie’s tiny hand was inconsequential.

Marie gasped. Logan exhaled deeply and grunted.

Logan’s hands were large and rough and with his fingers wrapped around her wrist, and without him realizing what he was doing, he loosened his grip and opened the palm of his hand, holding her hand in his he stroked his thumb lovingly over the palm of her hand.

“Shouldn’t snap your fingers in someone’s face, it’s impolite.”

Rogue was very soothed by his ministrations. It felt comforting, he was holding her hand and stroking her palm and she almost tilted her head back and let out a little contented sigh. She kept control over herself though and locked her eyes on his at his words.

A little giggle escaped her mouth but she spoke with an edge to her voice.

“You showed up two weeks late for my Graduation and you’re lecturing me on what’s polite? That’s funny sugar.”

For extra emphasis she took her hand out of his and realized that the lack of his ministrations probably hurt her more than it did him. She folded her hands in her lap and dragged her eyes away from his face to stare at her hands, like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“I didn’t know.”

Rogue thought it surprised the both of them that he actually did feel guilty about missing the event. She could see that written on his face as clear as the color of the sky. She’d gotten a good glimpse of what guilty Logan looked like once upon a time.

“Ya woulda been informed if you were around, not like I can send ya a message with my mind or anything.”

She winced a little too late realizing that you can’t use those kinds of slurs when you’re walking around with people who are mourning for telepaths they knew in real life.

She expected to look up into Logan’s dark and stormy grieving face, eyes laced with pain; but when she looked up Logan’s eyes were clear and his expression was normal, there was no trace of sadness on his face. Instead he seemed caught unawares by her wincing and his eyebrow shot up. The grimace on her face turned into a little laugh of relief.

“Marie darlin’ I think you’re getting a little too much sun, maybe you should come inside for a while.”

A little shiver snaked its way up her spine when he said that, the last time he’d called her darlin was on that god damned couch a year ago. It turned her insides to jelly just thinking about it and him sitting here now saying her name and calling her darlin only stirred up memories.

“Nah, I’m fine, just enjoying the day. You just tell me what was so important you had to miss my graduation.”

Rapid changes of subject always worked well.

She felt herself flush a little took a deep breath before she locked her mask back on, the mask she had spent a few days carefully creating. The one that made her cheeks hurt from a phony smile that never quite reached her eyes but which seemed genuine enough to fool Logan into thinking that they were okay.

“Nuttin, I just honest to God didn’t know if I had I would have been here.”

She arched a finely shaped eyebrow, mimicking a frequent expression of his.

“You doubtin me darlin?”

Her brow fell and her face took on a sassy hue that made her eyes sparkled.

“Always, sugar.”

This she could do, sass and banter were as natural to her as a Mississippi mudslide and she could easily dance around legitimate conversation with Logan while utilizing her acute powers of sarcasm. She just needed to make sure he didn’t do anything to look overly sexy; otherwise she’d be shot to hell in a hand basket.

Logan sprawled out on the grass, hands palm down on the grass, legs crossed at the ankle as he mimicked her earlier position. She sat Indian style next to him, closer than absolutely necessary because he had pulled her forward moments ago. For some reason Rogue was sharply aware of her hands and she realized it was because she missed the sensation of his thumbs stroking her palms. Such a simple touch and packed quite a punch.

“Tell ya what I’ll make it up to ya. Beer and hockey, my room later tonight.”

Alcohol? Logan’s room? Hockey? No. No, no, no, no, no! That was not a safe idea. That was a dangerous idea. Half of Rogue’s head was doing a little dance, beer in Logan’s bedroom, it was a fantasy come true. The other part of Rogue’s head was having an anxiety attack; beer in Logan’s bedroom, nothing good could come from this. She sought for a compromise, struggling for the first time to keep her witty demeanor in tack as she addressed Logan’s offer.

“Beer and sports? That’s how you want to atone for missing the biggest educational ceremony of my life?”

Her eyebrow arched again and his immediate grin, a hearty smirk that crawled all the way around his mouth made her realize that he loved it when she utilized physical traits of his.

“Behave yourself and maybe I’ll get a special surprise for you.”

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively before throwing a casual wink her way.

Her breathing stopped, her face fell and her eyes went dead pan in a matter of thirty seconds.

The one and only time Logan had ever graced her with a wink, let alone a mischievous wink, was that night they almost…well you know.

Either way Rogue had attributed it to Logan’s three bottles of whiskey, but here he was stone cold sober and he had just winked at her in broad daylight no less… was Logan a closet winker?

A shocked expression kissed her face briefly before she flung up her mask again, all smiles and fake sincerity. Nothing to see here folks, no girl pining away for the passionate night she let slip through her fingers, or the idea of Logan never allowing it to happen again. No siree, bob she was dandy!

They were talking about drinking beer and watching Hockey and that was all Marie would ever want from Logan.

She almost snorted at her own absurdity. In true southern tradition she straightened her back bone, squared her jaw and looked Logan dead in the eye. She mustered up whatever was left of hersassy charms and tried to finish the conversation with a little bit of dignity intact.

“Hmm, sugarh, what makes you so sure I wanna get,” she stopped speaking to wriggle her eyebrows suggestively the way Logan had done before continuing, “one of your surprises?”

Logan’s response was intentionally geared at getting under Rogue’s skin. The next words to leave his mouth were uttered in a thick, husky voice, the kind of voice that dragged promise and satisfaction in its wake and made a girl go weak in the knees just from the rich timbre of the sound.

“Oh trust me darlin’ no doubt about it, you’re gonna want this surprise.”

Logan’s words may have come out sounding husky, but his eyes remained clear and Rogue realized he was just joking around. She wanted to do more with him than just joke around and she was beginning to get sick of her own thoughts.

Time to get move, go inside, find a book to read or take a cold shower, she really needed to not be in close proximity to Logan right now.

She sprang easily to her feet and stretched her arms over her head she missed the way Logan’s eyes suddenly clouded as he practically raked them over her form. He watched the play of muscle under her skin as she lifted her arms and trailed his gaze down the length of her body appreciating the way her shirt clung to her and the way her pants gripped her hips. He had the sudden urge to use his fingers to pry them off of her skin, they looked incredibly tight. He heard Rogue start to speak and immediately his eyes went to her face.

“Beer and sports later on? This better be one terrific surprise.”

“Do I ever disappoint?”

Too many possible answers flew into Rogues head at that statement and before she could pick one to respond with Logan interrupted her thoughts.

“Okay don’t actually answer that, just get yourself over to my room by 8.”

She laughed lightly because she figured Logan could read the possible answers she was thinking of on her face.

He was taking out a cigar and getting ready to light it, that was Rogue’s cue to leave.

“All right then.”

She walked away and she missed the way his eyes glued themselves to her ass. Logan sighed out loud and long thinking to himself.

Shit what the hell am I going to surprise her with…..?