Chapter Four: Tag Team
The very next day she was in the same situation she was in the same time yesterday. Sitting in Xavier’s office. Waiting. Except for she spent most of the down time cursing her right arm for its continuous, rebellious jerks. Until another minute went by, then she’d curse Xavier.
More later than sooner he came in, stopping just inside of the doorway. Behind him was a very sullen looking Storm.
“Rogue,” he greeted.
Rogue glanced a quick warning look at the other woman, who was completely blocking the door way, before responding to him. “Ya late, Xavier. Again.”
“Professor Xavier,” he corrected her. “And, yes, I know. I’m terribly sorry. And I’m sorry, more over, that I am going to have to cancel this session. There is a pressing matter I must see to.”
She jumped to her feet, her face flush with anger. Storm took a few steps forward at her sudden hostility but Rogue could see nothing past Xavier. “Ya don’t think mah sanity is a ‘pressing matter’!?” she yelled.
“No, my dear. That is ridiculous,” Xavier tried to calm her. “We will simply reschedule for some time later in the day. Is that all right?”
Rogue rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. Whateva.”
“Good. Good. We’ll meet late this afternoon.”
“Professor,” Scott appeared in the door. Storm took a step to the side. He nodded a greeting to her and he fell right into place beside her. “We have to go now.”
“Of course. Rogue, I will see you later.” He turned around and moved to towards the door. Storm stepped into the office, clearly out of his way, while Scott stepped into the hall to let him pass. Then he immediately left, following the professor.
The room became quiet and extremely cold. The two woman made no attempt to hide their hateful glares at each other. It was only a matter of seconds before Storm’s hand curled into a fist.
Rogue saw the action and leaned on her hip. “Ya gonna punch me again?” She challenged the goddess.
“No,” came her short response.
“Ya’d like ta, though. But ya don’t wanna make big daddy mad at ya,” Rogue smirked, moving her traitorous arm behind her to keep it hidden from the other woman.
“Do not talk about Xavier like that,” Storm snapped, narrowing her eyes at her.
“Sorry,” she shrugged, evidently not sorry not at all. “Jus’ callin’ ‘em like ah see ‘em.”
The taller woman stepped forward, her teeth clenched tightly together. Rogue made no attempt to back down from her though, but instead kept her ground. Finally Storm stopped when there was just a chair standing between them.
“You are the basest form of life,” She started with a sneer. “Carol Danvers is three times the woman you are. And more of an X-Man that you will ever be.”
“She ain’t here, though, sugah. Is she?”
From the look in Storm’s deep brown eyes Rogue was sure she was going to go flying into the desk. But just as she was bracing herself Storm suddenly just turned around, stomping out of the room. When the door slammed shut behind her Rogue finally fell back to lean against the desk.
She took a deep breath while the muscles in her thighs jumped and constricted on their own. At least the worst of it had waited until her new teammate had left the room. Collapsing of the floor was a horribly way to loose a stand off. And the Rogue never lost a stand off.
Storm’s words had peaked Carol’s interest. They all but fueled the persona, giving her a burst of strength to try and take control. To make things worse she both agreed and disagreed with Storm. It wasn’t hard to tell which thought was hers, but both were felt intensely in her head, which made for one hell of a headache.
She rubbed her jerking arm; sometimes that helped to soothe and clam down the muscles. To get some resemblance of control back she tried to concentrate on things she knew she liked. Things she knew were her and not coming from someone else. It was hard to find memories, feelings like that anymore. But there was one shred she held on tightly to. Carol was allergic to strawberries. She fucking loved strawberries. So she sat for a few more minutes, rubbing her arm and her leg thinking ‘strawberries, strawberries, strawberries...’
When she came out of Xavier’s office the hallway was amazingly empty. Not completely empty, it seemed like it never was. But there was just a few kids walking, carrying books, talking to their friends. She wondered how anyone ever got use to this. People around all the time. Lots of people, no matter what time of day it was.
“Excuse me,” a tiny voice said behind her. She turned around to find a big girl who was probably eleven or twelve but looked like she had to be short for her age. Although, she didn’t really know what the usual twelve year olds looked like. The girl’s face was all flush and she was tugging on bottom of her shirt either from nervousness or just because she was upset. And she had the biggest brown eyes Rogue had ever seen. “Can you help me?”
Rogue was a little startled but kneeled down to the girl’s height, careful to stay away, out of arms reach from her. “Sure, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“A couple of the older kids took my diary and put it up on a shelf in Professor Summers’ class room. I tried to stand on a chair, but I still couldn’t reach,” she explained in a hushed tone, looking around her as she spoke.
“Oh, sure,” Rogue stood to her feet. “Jus’ show me where---”
“It’s okay, Amy,” the sudden German accent startled her and she wiped around to the blue demon coming up from behind her. “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, Kurt,” the young girl beamed at him. He took her small hand into his blue one and shot Rogue a deadly glare before leading the small girl down the hall.
Rogue stood in shock, watching them walk away from her. She turned her head, looking around her, as if she was looking for someone else to declare how rude that was. But the people moving about around her just kept going about their business, completely unaware of anything that happened.
“What tha *hell*!” She vented out loud.
********************************
He had learned his lesson the last time. Instead of going straight for barreling the door down he gave the knob a twist and sure enough it was unlocked.
First thing that took him by surprise was that the room was in complete darkness. It was well into the evening but Xavier told him she’d just left him from their session. So he found it hard to believe she had already gotten into bed.
It took some feeling along the wall but he finally found the switch and filled the room with light. The girl groaned, at least a curled up lump under a blanket at the foot of the bed groaned. It made him a little bit happy. At least this brilliant plan of Xavier’s was annoying the both of them.
“I’m getting a little sick of bringing you food,” he said as he shut the door and stalked further into the room.
“Then stop.”
He sat the plate down on the desk and then the bottle of water he had tucked under his arm. The Professor’s new idea was not to let her have any sugar. He told him that he wasn’t the Wolverine catering service to which Xavier replied he was tonight. Made him wonder when Xavier had gotten such an attitude.
Logan decided to figure out how to deal with him later and tried to concentrate on the problem at hand. Walking up to the foot of the bed he grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled hard. The girl screeched at the sudden air and jumped to her knees.
“Give it back, ya giant ass!” She yelled reaching out, but he held it behind him, a long way from her grasping hands.
She was still wearing her gloves, which surprised him. Who was she worried about touching under a blanket alone in her room? But he figured it was working in his favor since she was clawing at his arm, trying to pull it closer. He wonder why she just didn’t get off the bed, instead of stretching as far as she could. Getting no where.
“Ahm freezing!” She whined with a little whimper on the end as she made another valiant attempt at the blanket.
He looked at her skeptically. The long white bangs that framed her face were stuck flat against her and there was a long glistening sheen down the side of her neck. “How could you be freezing? You’re sweating.”
“Because ah am!” She yelled just as a hard jerk sent her falling back on the bed, flat on her butt.
His gut wrenched at the sight in front of him. Tremors started racking through her body with force, damp hair hanging over her back and shoulders. But she was trying to sit back up, fighting against the harsh movements of her body. Her face was a picture of sheer pain and determination. Strength showed through her dark green eyes, even as her body betrayed her.
When she made it into a sitting position, sitting Indian style on the very corner of her bed, he willing offered up the stolen blanket. She quickly snatched it out of his hand and wrapped it around her body.
“Is it always that bad?” He asked, slightly mesmerized.
“No,” she said through the chattering of her teeth and added sarcastically, “Jus’ afta Xavier helps.”
He nodded, sitting down on the arm chair by the window. He understood the feeling, he was familiar with Xavier’s mental help. Time stretched on as he stared out the window, watching the cloud move slowly along, covering the stars. She sat on the bed, soon her tremors lessened, and she was basically just shaking from her abnormal cold. They sat for a while like that, unmindful of the other’s presence. Two people alone in the same room.
Eventually the calm night bored him and he turned to look at her again. She was tucking a dangling white strand back behind her ear as she stared at the wall in front of her.
“So, I heard you pissed the hell out of ‘Ro,” he brought up just because it was the big topic downstairs.
Confused green eyes looked back at him. “Who?”
“Storm,” he explained. “White hair. Goddess. Knocked you through a window the other day.”
“Oh,” Rogue relaxed. “Yeah. She can blow me.”
She cracked a small smile at him and he couldn’t help but laugh heartily at her joke. It was so bad, and no one ever made jokes about Ororo around the mansion. It was disrespectful.
Rogue shrugged, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Somethin’ about how much Carol’s better than me or whateva.”
“Carol is a damn fine woman,” he seconded, his voice suddenly very stern. “And a good friend of mine.”
“You do that with all ya friends?” At her words his eyes narrowed, anger showing through them from her uninvited invasion into his personal life.
“Sorry,” she quickly apologized, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. “I’m not quite up to suppressing memories right now.”
He wanted to be furious with her, but damn if she just wasn’t looking completely pathetic. He settled for a ‘humpf’ and turned back to look out the window.
“Ya know,” she started, forcing his attention back to her. “Ah don’t know why everybody here is ridin’ mah ass about her. Mystique thought she was gonna *kill* me. Those damn goody-goodies gonna say they wouldn’t do tha same thing? Besides, ah hear she’s doing jus’ fuckin’ fine now. Got more powers than before an’ everythin’.”
He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or just in general because she was speaking towards the wall. “Yeah. Except she doesn’t have a clue who she is anymore.”
“Well, fuck!” The girl yelled, her head turned around to face him. “Tell her ‘welcome to god damn club mutant’. Ah’ll buy her a damn drink.”
She had a point. He didn’t have a damn clue who the hell he was either. The Wolverine. A cold tag around his neck with a bunch of numbers. Random flashes of dark memories. That was it, all he had to base who he was after. Now that he thought about it he found it hard to still feel bad for Carol. Xavier had restored most of her memories after she came out of the coma. She just didn’t remember living them. She said they were distance, that they had no feeling for her. But now that he thought about it. She still had more than he did.
“Actually,” he stood up and walked over to the desk. He grabbed a now cold roll off the plate and took a large bite out of it. “I hear she’s developed quite a drinking problem.”
“Really?....Huh.” Rogue stood up too, slowly, then grabbed some of the carrots off the plate. “Guess ah jus’ have that effect on people.”
“Haven’t had a beer since you got here,” he admitted, although he wasn’t sure why.
“Well, shit.” She dropped the remaining carrots back on the plate and wiped her hand on her jeans. “Let’s go. Ya drive, ah’ll buy.”
*****************************
They left right after she found her long green cloak. She had never been in the garage before and was carefully studying the stream lined cars neatly lined up. He tapped her shoulder and handed her a helmet. She looked down at it, her mouth dropping into a frown. She said she didn’t think she had enough control over her legs for a motorcycle. He could tell she was disappointed. He was a little let down himself, for some reason he was eager to get her on his bike. So instead he hot wired one of Scott’s precious mustangs, which made her giggle, so everything seemed alright.
They drove in silence. Occasionally he looked down to her lap, where she was her hands clenched together, obviously trying to steady them. Then he’d drive faster.
When they got there, she immediately headed to the bar. It pissed him off a little bit because he never sat at the bar, but his usual booth in the back was occupied. Which pissed him off too. In a moment of generosity he decided to drop. If she was paying she could pick where they sat.
“Molsons,” he grunted to the bartender as they sat down.
Rogue pulled her hood down, smiling at the elder man behind the bar. “Ah’ll have a Budlight.”
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D., cupcake.”
She rolled her eyes, but pulled a small square card out of her back pocket and laid it down on the bar. He gave her a skeptic look when he picked up. After mulling over it for a while he looked up.
“Nice hair,” he said, and slid it back to her. Then he turned around, evidently off to get their beers.
Rogue reached for it but Logan’s hand came down over it with a hard slap. She looked up surprised to find he was already looking at her. He picked it up and studied it himself.
“You ain’t twenty-four,” he huffed, tossing it back to her.
“Ah ain’t Erika Lane Thompson either. What’s ya point?”
He shook his head, a slight smirk on his lips. Scott would flip, that’s all he could think. Their beers were put down in front of them. The bartender barely had the caps off before the two of them were eagerly reaching for them.
She had taken a rather petite sip of hers when a loud, deep gulp caught her by surprise. She watched in fascination as his neck constricted, his Adam’s apple bobbing, once, twice, three times and then the bottle was completely empty.
“‘Nother,” he waved the empty bottle at the barkeep before setting down on the bar top.
“Shit, sugah. Ah not gonna havta knock ova a liquor store ta pay for this am ah?”
He laughed once as his new beer was placed in front of him. “If that’s want you wanna do we’re wasting our time here. You might as well just steal the liquor.”
“Ya ain’t gonna tell me how that would be against the X-Men code of conduct?”
“Not if you share.”
It was her turn to laugh, although it came at an inopportune moment because she nearly choked on the beer still moving down her throat. She wiped the bit that came out of her nose on her glove with a coyness he hadn’t thought was possible.
“Alright,” she said, turning sideways on her stool to face him. “Let’s hear it. What’s it really like? Bein’ an X-Man?”
“Summers would tell you it is an inspiring ability to do good in the world and improve the lives of others. That it’s the best feeling in the world,” he answered into his beer.
“‘Kay, so what’s it really?”
He smiled and downed the rest of the bottle. “It’s okay,” he answered with a shrug.
“Logan----”
He turned his head when she choked out his name. Her body was rigid and still, which she wasn’t usually. Something was seriously not right, but for the life of him he couldn’t place it. He quietly said her name but got no response. She still had a vacant look on her face; she didn’t even blink. That’s when he placed it. Sudden bursts of blues and greys would cloud over her normally deep, clear emerald eyes.
He began to panic, unsure of what to do. He should have thought before he took her out of the mansion. They were at least twenty minutes away from anyone that could help her. What worried him was she wasn’t breathing either. Nothing was functioning except for the chaotic play of colors in her eyes. He just kept saying her name over again, trying to snap her out of whatever comatose state she was it, lost as to what else he could do.
Just as he was sure he’d be taking a body back to Xavier she snapped out of whatever stupor she was in. She woke up with a loud, long gasp as she tried to pull air into her lungs. Logan had to move quickly, placing a hand on her back to keep her from falling off the stool.
“Hey, she okay?” The bartender yelled from the other end of the bar.
“Asthma,” Logan quickly explained. “She’s fine.”
Rogue slumped down onto the bar top, her hand clenching at her chest as she continued to pant. He kept his hand on her back, unsure if she was done or not or if she was going to go into severe tremors after that.
“You alright?” he asked when her breathing regulated a little bit.
She shook her head, reaching for her beer. He watched and waited as she gulped the half-filled bottle down. When it was empty he called out to the bartender to bring them both another one before she had it sat down. He didn’t really know about her but he definitely needed it. Then he added a couple of shots to his order.
“What the hell was that?” Logan demanded after the bartender was once again out of hearing range. Then he threw back a shot.
“Carol,” she answered between breaths, rubbing her forehead. “Let’s jus’ say she wanted a private conversation between tha two of us.”
“Fuck,” he swore, taking out two more shots. “No more power plays until we get back, you got that?”
She snorted, grabbing her new beer. “Ah’ll do mah best.”
He continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye, though, just to be on the safe side. The fingers on her right hand would randomly move, tapping on the bar, but that seemed to be about it. Besides his side line vigil they both just mainly concentrated on their drinks. He lit a cigar and the soothing smoke did much more good for his nerves then the five shots he ended up downing. When she finished her second beer he asked if she wanted another one. She said no, she was done for the night. He was slightly surprised by that and she must have been able to tell. She explained that she was having a hard enough time walking, how stupid would she be to add a drunk stumble to it? Besides, with Carol’s persona in her she was evidently predisposed for alcohol abuse. He knew she was trying to make a joke. It just wasn’t funny that time. His face let her know he thought as much and it drastically reduced her mood.
“Good guys suck,” she huffed, trying to peel at the label of her empty bottle.
He flicked the ashes of his cigar onto a nearby ashtray. “No, darlin’. Good whores suck.”
Her eyes went wide by his crass words, which both surprised him and elated him. She didn’t know him as well as she liked to think she did.
“What ah meant is everybody’s been real asses to me since ah got here. Hell, even Toad’s got a better disposition.”
Whether it was because her mood had darken or the topic she was delving into her shakes had spread up her arm and into her legs. All the extra movements made him nervous. If somebody was dancing about all the time he made it harder to read them, to anticipate their actions. He tried to keep reminding his self that she couldn’t help it, she wasn’t trying anything. But it did little good and he was suddenly ready to leave.
“Come on,” he said, pushing to his feet.
She looked up at him, surprised. “We leavin’?”
“Yeah,” he grunted and turned around. Walking right into some six-foot trucker.
“Watch it, shortie,” stale breath flooded his senses just before the man shoved him. He could feel his hackles rising on the back of his neck and just as he opened his mouth to say something the girl was up and by his side.
He looked quickly to her, briefly wondering what the hell she thought she was doing before giving the big buzz cut in front of him his attention. “Back off, bub,” he growled, low and deep.
As soon as the warning left his lips two other neanderthals appeared on either side of buzz cut. The man nodded and his two companions with a grin. “Or you’re gonna do what?”
“Or we’re gonna knock ya back, ass wipe,” a thick southern drawl beside him snapped back. Four sets of eyes fell onto her. Logan had to attempt, he was just as surprised as the drunkards.
“That’s your posse?” The man laughed, followed shortly by the other two. “A girl? Just stay out of this, kitten, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
‘Oh shit’ Logan said to himself and sure enough Rogue’s eyes started to dramatically darken. He quickly pushed her behind him, breaking her sight of the man. Xavier said she wasn’t up to physical activity, which meant now he had to figure out a way to keep her from beating the shit out of this guy.
“Just go get another drink,” he snarled at the man. “And get the fuck out of our way.”
“I think you need taught some manners, shortie---” The man reached for the front of his shirt. Logan let him get a grab before his hands shot up, locking around his arms. He lifted the guy to his feet and with a roar slammed him down on the nearest table. Bottles flew everywhere but the table held up so he raise his fist to a deliver a blow to buzz cut’s face. Something stopped his arm and looked up, snarling at one of the man’s sidekicks grabbing him.
He wasn’t there long before he heard another roar, then there was a flash of green before the guy was launched half way across the bar. ‘So much for no physical activity’ he thought to himself then landed the punch in buzz cut’s face. The impact sent the man tumbling off the table where he collided with a chair before falling to the floor.
Logan turned around just as the third guy took a swing at Rogue. She gracefully bobbed under it before coming back up, slamming an uppercut into the man’s gut. He bent over, clenching his stomach, spit flying out of his mouth. Then she grabbed the back of his shirt and with another near Amazonian scream hurtled him. The bartender jumped out of the way as he went flying over the bar top and colliding with the glass shelving along the wall behind it.
It was nice not being on the receiving end of it, Logan had to admit. And a lot more fun to watch. Too much fun.
“Behind ya!” She screamed but it was too late. Sharp burning pain flared into his lower back and he went down. He groaned was nausea whipped over him, fully his anger even more. His hand shot to the source of the pain to find the handle of a knife sticking out of his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore as he jerked it out. No one else could have possibly heard the words though, he barely did, through all the pounding of wood snapping and the ringing out of glass shattering.
The wound quickly mended and he rubbed the stop for a second before getting to his feet. He was meet with the sight of everyone in the bar cowering against the walls. Everyone except buzz cut who was now dangling in the air by his neck, Rogue’s glove hand tightly clenched around his throat.
“Drop him, Rogue,” he yelled out. Everyone in the bar’s head moved around to him with a mixture of shock and awe. She however, only tightening her grip on the whimpering man’s neck.
“Now,” he said growled, walking over to her. “It’s time to go, darlin’.”
Clear green eyes searched his, and it was all he could do not to back down from the intensity of them. Suddenly a smile spread onto her face and she turned her head to look back at the man. Blood and snot were dripping out of his nose, oozing down onto his split lip.
Then she did exactly what he asked her to and dropped him. The man hit the floor of the bar with an echoing boom. She look a few steps backing, watching him as he rolled and moaned on the floor.
Satisfied she patted Logan’s shoulder then said she’d be right back and ran off towards the bar.
Logan bent down and grabbed the from of the man’s shirt, easily lifting him back to his feet. Buzz cut barely got another whimper out before Logan had him slammed against one of the wood support beams, his hard metal clad body pressing him into it.
“This yours?” he snarled, pointing the knife at the guy’s neck. The other man started openly crying, shaking his head and muttering in coherent babble.
At the bar Rogue jumped up on the top, crossing her legs and leaning so she could see behind it. Kneeling on the floor was the shaking bartender just a few feet from an unconscious man. She smiled wide at him and pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket.
She flipped a couple of bills and laid back on the bar so she could lay them on the hidden shelf under it. “Sorry,” she said sweetly then jumped back down. He breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone only to have her face popped back over ledge.
“On second thought---” She added a few more bills with the others then smiled at him again and then disappeared.
Logan slammed the guy back into the pillar again, but still no actually words came out of the stammering man’s mouth. The sweet scent of fear clogged his senses and Wolverine bathed in it. He pulled the knife back and roared again as he stabbed it. The man screamed as the knife embed in the wood above his head.
“Ya ready?”
“Yeah,” he grunted and pushed off buzz cut. Who promptly feel to a heap of the floor.
Rogue led the way out and as soon as they were in the cool night air he released the claws, finally in relief from the pain of them pushing against his knuckles. The girl turned around at the sound of the sliding metal.
She took a tentative step towards him and the look in her eyes startled him. She was breathing deeply, as if she was drinking in his presence and then he realized he was doing the same thing. Before he knew it she was close, her chest barely grazing against his. Her breath gently caressing his chin.
His hands came up, wrapping around her upper arms to keeping her from getting any closer. It was a reflex and he had a terrifying feeling that it had nothing to do with her skin. Her hair wiped and blew around them, surrounding him in sweet rose, completely flooded the smell of buzz cut’s fear out of his nose. It should have calmed him, but his eyes feel to slightly parted mouth, framed with lush moist lips and he was nothing close to calm. He forced himself to look back up to her eyes. They were shining bright in the dark, perfect clear emerald orbs.
“You’re not shaking,” he observed, confused as to how his voice got so breathless.
“Ah’m not?” She seemed authentically surprised, though her eyes still bored into his. He shook his head. Because his mouth was suddenly too dry for words and his heart was pounding against his chest.
“Ah’m not...” she said again, stepping back from him, looking down at her hands.
“Maybe ahm— ” Her words were cut off as his mouth crashed down onto hers. His hands went up to the side of her face, keeping her in place as he assaulted her lips. He was lost in their velvet softness and the feeling of her hair falling over his claws, caressing the skin between his fingers. It took a second but she finally started kissing him back, matching his pressure.
He moaned as he bit her bottom lip, tugging gently on it. And then there was only pain. Burning white pain that coursed through his body before there was nothing.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I really had no intent for any real action in this story. Or, really, anything in this chapter. Evidently Rogue and Logan had other ideas.