Rogue stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady breathing next to her, the crisp white sheets against her bare skin like a caress as she replayed the night over again in her mind. Her heart ached, heavy and hot as she swallowed past the lump in her throat, unable to keep the tear from falling. The taste of betrayl bitter like the salt on her tongue. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw and the cool linen around her, drawing her leg up, ignoring the teasing slide of the fabric as it slid down her inner thigh. Her toes curled and she leaned forward, swinging her legs around. The chill on her skin at war with the fire licking through her veins. A shiver touched her spine as she stood, careful not to disturb Bobby.

She hadn’t been able to shake the cold since Bobby had… Since she’d... They...

The pit of her stomach went into a wild swirl. Rogue traced his features with her eyes, made silver in the soft moonlight. He really was a beautiful boy… He’d been gentle with her, if a bit clumsy. But he was just a boy...

When she’d felt his skin for the first time it’d been smooth and cool to the touch, her fingers had dug through curls, in messy dissaray merely by gel and her impatient hunger, over lean sinew, across shoulders barely broader than her own… All odd angles and muttered apologies, fumbling in the dark.

It wasn’t enough. She wanted fire, not ice. Passion, not uncertainty and calculation. A love that consumed her. ...Was that so wrong? Rogue knew what she wanted. Down to her very bones.

And it was wrong.

Then why did she feel this way? More as if she’d betrayd Logan rather than Bobby? She’d always hoped that someday... maybe...

If...

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and tiptoed as silently as she could, following the glow of her bathroom light that spilled across the floor, avoiding their discarded clothing as if they held landmines.

She let the door click shut behind her, and leaned back against it to gather herself, eyes closing against the sting. She sighed wearily and blinked, focusing her gaze. She took in the reflection staring back at her, studying herself disapprovingly. Touseled hair, the stain of scarlet on her cheeks stark against the shock of white hair haloing her pale face. Not due to her rendezvous, but to shame. She’d just given her virginty to the first guy that had came along. Sure, they’d been going steady. But she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t because of what she’d seen transpire between Bobby and her best friend Kitty on the pond that night. Her pride had been seriously bruised and that had been her wounded ego demanding that she win whatever ridiculous competition she suddenly found herself in. She could thank her Daddy and her brothers for that. She had a competitive streak a mile wide.

But when she’d realized Logan had gone because he’d had to kill the woman he loved… she’d felt an acute sense of loss. Grief and despair tore at her heart. She desperately needed to fill the hole his absence left inside. To drown out the misery before it drowned her. To be wanted by somebody for once...

And now that she had, she regretted it. Because it could never compare. Passion still ignited when she thought of the tall, dark, gruff Canadian, and her whole body ached for him, craved him, in vain.

Even if he hadn’t left, he’d never have seen her for the woman that was staring back at her. Who’d bloomed beneath those layers right before his eyes. But they were only for Jean... and now he was gone. Without so much as a, “See ya later, kid.” Or... goodbye.

She dropped to her knees in front of the clawfoot tub, tucking a streak behind her ear and turned the taps, adjusting the temperature to just below scalding. Maybe she could wash the events of the day away. She poured in her favorite rosewater scented bubblebath and lit the ivory candles scattered around her tub and counter, flipping off the lights. As she went to dip her toes in to test the temperature she thought better of it and went an opened up the cabinet beneath her sink, pulling out a black tooled leather flask, a Cuban and a zippo she’d taken from Logan’s room when she’d found he’d ran. Hadn’t even taken the time to come back for his belongings. He’d just hopped on Scott’s Harley and peeled off down the driveway without looking back. Although, she supposed the bike belonged to no one now that Scott was... like everyone else...

She swallowed hard and bit back her tears, so much had happened recently. So quickly. Sniffling, she took a swig of the bourbon in the flask. It burned on the way down and settled to pool warm in her belly. She coughed a little, covered her mouth and set it on the marble table beside the tub along with the zippo and the Cuban. Rogue twisted off the tap.

She stepped in and let the water burn until she was numb to it, sliding down until she was submerged to her chin and felt her muscles start to relax a little.

*”You runnin’ again?”*

*”...You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid of your powers.”*

*”Yeah, I do.”*

*”Ah wanna be able to touch people, Logan. A hug. A handshake... a kiss.”*

*”I hope you’re not doing this for some boy...”*

Logan’s voice echoed in her mind. The last words they’d ever spoken to each other. She’d wanted to reach for him. To tell him that she wasn’t doing this for some boy... but she’d been afraid. There had always been a definitive line in the sand, her affection dismissed as a simple school girl crush. But there had always been some tangible undefined bond between them that neither of them would delve into deciphering with a ten foot pole.

But that didn’t stop her from wishing it was his hard muscles twitching beneath her fingertips, his broad back she’d dug her nails in. Missing the stubble along the straight shot of his jaw that she’d been nibbling...

She imagined him dropping down next to her and gently spreading her legs apart, trailing his big rough hands ever so slowly down the apex of her thighs... she inhaled sharply at the contact and moved toward him, impelled involuntarily. The caress barely a whisper, leaving fire in its wake as he slipped down and gently stroked the soft core of her body. The mastery with which he massaged her sending currents of desire racing through her. She gasped in sweet agony as she welcomed him into her body.

Rogue let a moan escape between parted lips, hand lightly touching her hardening nipple. Waves of ecstasy throbbed through her as he pressed into her, drawing elicit sounds from her mouth with each pass, her hips rolling in response, her impatience growing to explosive proportions.

“Mmm, Logan...” she panted almost pleading.

Logan’s hand slid across her silken belly and out of the water. He traced his thumb across her lower lip and slowly descended to capture it with a growl...

“Logan. Mmmmm.”





Logan rummaged around his dresser, not bothering with the light. He wouldn’t be here long anyhow. He just needed to grab a few things before he put this place in his rear view mirror. For good this time. He’d waited at the local hole in the wall, trying to out drink his healing factor, until he was sure that everyone in the mansion was asleep. He couldn’t stand the pitying looks that were sure to follow him. And he sure as hell didn’t wanna talk about it. Any of it. He just wanted to get as far away from this place as he possibly could. Hell, it could burn for all he cared. He’d even light the match. He never wanted to come back here again. Not after...

“AAAGGHHHH! FUCK!” He swiped everything off of his dresser with a loud crash and shatter and a clang. He dragged his knuckles across his brow, lip curling and braced himself against the mahogany. Logan rammed the heel of his hand into it with bruising force. Where the hell was his zippo and his flask? It didn’t get up and fuckin walk away...

“Shit.”

Fuck it. He didn’t need sentimental shit anyway. He grabbed his duffel & exited the room without bothering to close the door behind him. Fuck this place and everything in it. If he hadn’t been so caught up in his mood and paid the slightest attention he would’ve heard the footsteps approaching dangerously close around the corner he was rounding. As it was, he instinctively reached out and grabbed Storm’s arm in a vice like grip to steady her before she hit the floor.

“Ouch. Logan!” She flattened her palms against her thin cotton robe, pulling it tighter around her and pushed back a wayward strand of electric white hair. Tilting her head back, she peered at his face. She studied the bag slung over his shoulder.

“Logan...”

He pushed past her, his dark face set in a viscous expression. That was exactly the look that he was avoiding. She placed her hand on his forearm. He spun around and snarled at her. Ororo jumped back but held her ground. She frowned, warm chocolate eyes level under her drawn brows. You don’t get to become an X-Men by being skittish. Logan’s nostrils flared in warning, his steel muscles tensing beneath her slender fingertips.

“We need you.” She whispered.

“Don’t.” He leaned forward, his rough voice, though quiet, had an ominous quality. A muscle flickered angrily at his jaw, his amber eyes flashing.

She paused for a moment and inclined her head in compliance. He yanked away from her and turned on his heel, not caring that he was headed in the complete opposite direction of the one he’d needed to be heading. He just had to get away. Right now.

“Rogue needs you.” Her tone was apologetic, but she said it with quiet emphasis like it was her last ditch effort. She sounded tired. They all were.

He heard her and froze. His face changed and became almost somber. His eyes narrowed and hardened and he readjusted his bag on his shoulder and made his way down the hallway with long, purposeful strides. Hell bent and hell bound. God help any other unsuspecting soul that got in his way.

Truthfully, Logan had no idea where he was going. He’d needed to go past Storm to get to the bike and his freedom, but he’d panicked. His fight or flight kicking in and he was afraid that if he’d delayed for one more second he would have started slashing.

That was what happened around him... people got hurt.

Before he knew it, he was striding past Rogue’s room. Not quite sure how he’d gotten there, Storm’s words niggling at the back of his mind. He growled. She was better off without him. They all were. It was better this way. ...this was how he did right by her.

Logan turned to go back towards the garage, hoping Storm had long since vacated the corridor when he heard something quiet.

That sounded like his name...

Logan was sure he heard his name, under the rushing of his blood and need to be free of this place there was another need, one that he'd pushed aside in his rush to run from a place filled with ghosts. Haunting him...

Marie.

He'd seen her duffel in hand, her face meeting his dead on and seeing her desperation riding high in her gaze, to be seen, to be recognised by him for what she was. A young woman with just as much need as he had, hell she'd been waiting for him to stop her, to tell her there was nothing wrong with her. He'd seen her when she'd flown into the office when the cure news had broken, her hope so full, her needs so full frontal he'd picked up on her before she'd entered the damn office.

But here he was outside of her room and by the sounds of it she wasn't alone in there either... a coldness entered him, not anger, not the hatred he'd felt for Erik either but a deeper cold. One that spoke of winter and red spots on the snow, the door wasn't fully shut and as Logan dropped the duffel at her door it wasn't Logan who walked inside.

Silence met his ears, the room was only illuminated by the moonlight coming in from the window, showing the shape of a male body in her bed. Lost to deep sleep the sharp scent of frost and clear ice told him enough, Bobby, the ice kid, the one who'd been around her before they'd gone to sort out the mess that had been Jean. But hadn't he seen him and Kitty getting friendly on the plane back? If so what the hell was he doin' here now? A slow sense of unease filled him, if Bobby was playin' that game with Marie....

He was halfway across toward the bed before he'd even realised his claws were drawn, arm ready to plunge into the softly rising chest covered by the sheets. The sheets that scented of Marie, that's when the soft call of his name dragged his attention back away from the sleeping young man. His growl deep and barely audible for now, but the light that was coming from her bathroom was anything but normal. Unsure of what he was going to see Logan just let himself stand in the edge of the door, where the hinges sat, revealing a strip of a very naked Marie in her bath. Candles all around her the scent of a smouldering cuban in there with her, then his eyes noticed the little table. His possessions were on it, the flask open showing she'd drunk from it, she'd taken them from his room. Why was high in his mind but seeing her put those thoughts on the back burner but it was her voice and her scent that were filling the deepest parts of his mind right now.

Watching her writhe as she used her fingers on herself, watching her move in the water like some siren of old, the scent of rose mingling with her scent of arousal. Hearing her need whispering out toward him, seeing her fully for once, seeing her as she was, not how his mind had remembered her. There were a lot of differences between the girl he'd picked up on that road to the one who was now trying to get herself off the best way she could.

He had to lean on the damn door frame he was that shocked, his mind fully aware of what had been in the corridor with him that day, but hadn't he left her alone? Left her to make her choices, make her mistakes it seemed, flicking a look over to the sleeping boy in her bed. It was Marie's deepening voice that had his attention back at her body in the scented water that was doing nothing to hide her own desires.

Watching her fingers slide over her alabaster skin, feeling his own skin heat and breathing deepen as he watched Marie, her eyes closed to the room and her whispers loud in his ears. Turning to look over at Bobby who was still sleeping the sleep of the recently fucked but if he'd done good enough why the hell was Marie in the tub sayin' his name?
He had to hold onto the damn doorframe to stop himself from just goin in there an givin' her just what she was needin. Keeping his own desires clamped down savagely he began to back away from her bathroom door, he was just far enough to be out of the candlelight when Logan heard her breath hold, his name flowing from her lips. The way she said it made him wish he had worse morals than he already had, nursing a hard on that only a certain soft handed woman could ease. Growling to himself he shrugged off his over shirt and laid it on her bed, just where she'd see it when she came out. It'd tell her enough, that he'd seen her and tomorrow morning he was goin to be on her ass as soon as she was awake. Snagging his duffle silently Logan went to get himself lost for a few hours, he wanted her aware when he saw her next, awake and calmer than he was right now.
Oh God!
The scent of the cigar had her wound further than she thought possible, like the day she'd walked in on him training. It had all she could do to keep her eyes at his face, just the sight of him had had her wound tighter than a drum.

Letting the heat of the water fill her fully, every movement on her skin was his rough palms, the rasp of his skin against hers. The heat covering her body fully, her touch drifting over her sensitized flesh, how could she ever think cold could replace heat? Not like Logan's, not like his breadth, his weight, oh sweet Jesus when he'd first trained her alone it was enough to let him floor her, to feel his weight on her. To feel his hips in hers, tight in leather though they were, it still made her blood sing.
It hadn't lasted though he'd moved her to train with Pete instead she could use his skin to protect herself, but there had been a moment, just a flash of something the last time he'd trained with her. The way he'd gotten up off her, his hips staying within hers for just a little longer than they should have, a half felt rumble as he'd moved.

Marie touched her breasts, feeling their weight deepen as she touched her nipples rubbing them softly, teasing herself with his imagined touch. The way he'd look at her from under his brows, the depth in his gaze that would be telling her how much he wanted to taste her. Knowing his touch wouldn't be hesitant or second guessed, she'd seen his memories, the ones he'd tried to hide from her mind. But when you're up as high as she was there was no other option than to close your eyes and what had come from Logan into her wasn't just about saving her because he'd promised he'd look after her.
It had been the day after when his mind was being absorbed by her own, she'd begun to daydream when the one Logan had had popped up in her mind. It had been them driving in the snow, no Sabretooth, no X-Men, just them driving to the next town, his eyes going all over her and throwing up every single way he could think of to get around that killer skin of hers. Fucking her through a slit in her jeans, that no one would see but him, using the soft cotton of his undershirt to taste her through. He'd be dressed as much as he could be but her, damn he'd wanted her naked, wrapped around his dick and screamin' his name til she was spent!

Marie allowed the thoughts to follow her touches, the way he'd hold her, move her, letting her fingers slide down her skin to her now aching clit. Just brushing it gently, not a full touch, oh no, just grazing past, knowing he loved to tease this way, get you hot for him til you were nearly crazy with it. Understanding his desire to own her, to imprint himself on her fully, the outside of him so different to the internal man she'd tried to come to terms with.
Allowing the thoughts of his hands roving over her body, mapping her out in his touch, knowing he'd touch her skin or no. Just that the man out here wasn't the same as the one she'd absorbed, Logan hid a lot of what he was from everyone. Marie understood why but surely he'd be able to understand her side too wouldn't he? She saw the real him, the one he hid.

Knowing that if it had been Logan in her bed instead of Bobby he'd have made sure she'd been wet enough to get into, instead of the fumbling aching lust filled fest that had lasted just over ten minutes in total. If she'd thought that it was going to be any better than her own fumbled desires she was badly mistaken. Turning her thought away from what had happened Marie let herself think about what could have been.

Logan would have kissed her thoroughly, stroking her, touching her all over, allowing her to feel his weight, his pressure against her, the way he'd shift into her body. Just the feel of him was making her blood race, knowing he'd take her hips in a one handed grip, opening her to him. Pushing himself into her, showing her the hardness he had, wanting to warn her ahead of time, getting her ready for him, for what and who he hid. He'd peel her out of her clothes, get her naked first, allowing her to relax with him. Giving her the reins, letting her lead, knowing he would have been gentle with her at first. Even with the blood racing in her veins Logan would have steered her urges, allowing her to touch him, explore that chest of his, his neck, those lips ….

Her hand slipped down her body dipping down as she shifted in the now warm water, feeling herself being watched somehow, the nagging doubt being pushed aside as she began to chase the building force within her skin. Imagining Logan's mouth on her skin, the way he'd purr into her, holding her tight as she shifted in his tight grip. Knowing he'd work his way down to her breasts, remembering the way he'd looked at her as she'd zipped up her uniform on more than one occasion. Reading the man underneath the surface of the truth he showed them, Logan wanted her for himself, he knew it, she knew it.
Touching her now erect nipples, pinching them as he would, the way he loved to roll their sensitive surfaces through his fingers, her other hand finally allowing herself a full touch on her clit. Her mouth widening to say his name louder this time, the feeling building in her blood until she thought she'd die from it. Knowing Logan would do this to her, touch her, override her senses til she was lost, opening her eyes to see something glint in the crack of the door. Her body too far gone to worry now as she rolled her eyes back into her head as the heat burned through her body finally destroying the cold that had been lodged in her core.

Gasping as she came down from her orgasm, seeing the half burnt cigar resting on the small table, taking it and dunking it in the rose scented water. Lifting herself out of the now cool water Marie let her thoughts drift the young man waiting in her bed. It had been a mistake to do this, to let Bobby be here with her. She'd just wrapped herself in her robe and had emptied the tub, hiding the flask and cigar again. Feeling warm at last she stepped out of the bathroom to take a look at Bobby, but what grabbed her gaze was the red flannel shirt that was sat on her bed.
Hands shaking as she walked the small distance over to the thing that was laying there like a rose in midwinter. Touching it, and feeling the still human warmth in the deep fabric, pulling it upward to her face and scenting Logan all over it. Closing her eyes as she pulled it into her face and sighed deeply, telling her he'd been there in her room, turning toward the still lit bathroom and saw the crack of the doorframe.

A coldness filling her fully now, he had been here! When the hell had he gotten back? Where the hell had he been, had he been here earlier? Did he know she had his things? Then there was a sinking feeling that opened up in her stomach as she looked over to Bobby, if he'd known she had his things then he would have come for them. If he'd been in here ….
Marie knew his sense of smell was something he hid, something he never talked about because it was so sharp. He'd be able to scent them in here, and if he'd been watching her as well..... it looked like tomorrow was going to be another doozy of a day.