Rogue was in the med lab a month before Jeanie finally gave her the okay to leave. And that started her life at the mansion. He spent most of the day with her, except when he was training. For the first week that she was out and about amongst everyone else she stayed to herself and in her room. Finally, he dragged her out and told her that she had to at least fucking eat in the cafeteria with him. She agreed and he knew it was only because he let her know that she didn't have a god damn choice in the matter. And after eating in there a few times it wasn't long before that annoying little motor mouth Jubilee plopped right down beside her and filled her in on all the latest mansion gossip. And with Yellow's fucking stamp of approval all the other little X-brats followed shortly after, slowly trying to include her into their plans. He knew she hated every fucking minute of it and was usually nervous and scared shitless. That's why he always made her go and reminded her she was still too damn weak to fight him. So she'd swear at him but follow the kids, and he'd have his 'damn, I'm good,' celebration cigar as he watched her slowly walk away with them.
He wasn't sure how he was going to manage the whole fucking 'hey, I think I'll keep her' shit if the juniors hadn't accepted her so quickly. He actually fucking lucked out. The senior X-Men, however, were not so tolerate. Fucking hypocrites, right? He could tell just by looking at them that every time they fucking saw her they remembered her kicking their asses over and over again. Hell, she was just fucking watching T.V. with Freeze Boy and Jeanie glared at her like she murdered a baby or some shit. But Jean was the worst. She wasn't the fucking only one by any means. 'Ro made it obvious she didn't trust her any farther than she could throw her, but at least she was god damn civil to her face. The Professor kept trying to get into her fucking head without asking her. Which pissed Logan off to the point he threatened to fucking run over all of his god damn wheelchairs with his truck. He gave him the 'Now, Logan'. Nothing made him angrier than the 'now, Logan.' So every time she told him she had this weird splitting headache he'd go and put a set of claw holes in the side of one of his wheelchairs. Eventually the headaches stopped.
At first Scooter was worse then Jean. Acting like a real prick, no big surprise. But out of the fucking blue he started saying 'hi' real nice to her when he saw her and then he fucking saw the two of them and they looked like they were having some real deep fucking conversation. Day after day she developed this fucked up bond with him that made Logan just want to be sick. What was it about chicks that they couldn't see how much of a god damn asshole he was? What eased his queasy stomach was that she always sided with him against Scooter when they got into one of their arguments not matter what.
(She'd just tell him what a complete fucking moron he was later.) It made him feel like at least him and god damn One-Eye were finally even. One hot chick a piece. Although every time Jeanie walked away he wondered what it would be like to have BOTH of them in his corner? Then he reminded himself that god damn Scooter was stilling winning. At least he was fucking getting some.
But all that was important was that him and the kid got together better than he ever thought they would. The original plan was she'd make friends and would no longer be dependent on him and they'd both
go about their lives. It didn't go that way. They fucking stuck to each other like glue and it scared him how much they were alike and he actually began depending on her just as much.
"Hey, kid." he opened the door without knocking. He never knocked. She was lucking he didn't fucking rip the door off the hinges the rare times she locked it.
"Hey yaself, sugah."
He closed the door and looked at her. She was sitting at the chair of the vanity table Kitty and Yellow had bought her. She was dabbing a washcloth on her forehead just above her eye. He wanted to laugh that she was so anti-social she already had her pjs on.
Then he smelled blood.
"What the fuck," he closed the four feet between them before she could react and grabbed her chin, lifting her face up to him, her hair protecting his hand. With the other hand he grabbed her glove covered wrist to pull the rag away. There was a gash on her forehead, right above her shocked face.
"What. The. Fuck. Happened," he growled.
"Nothing, really. It's not that bad," she tried to shoo his hands away but he only tightened his grip.
"You have three seconds to fucking spill it, darlin'." All kinds of things were running through his mind. She met up with her brotherhood friends. Scooter fucking knocked her down the stairs. Jeanie mentally threw something at her--
"Really, Logan. Calm down. Piotr came back from Russia today and ah guess no one told him, ah, ya know came to the other side," she started explaining, trying to do it the best way without getting the boy in trouble. "He kinda threw me through the library wall--"
"Fuck!" He clenched his and made his way back towards the door he'd just entered. Why the hell didn't anybody ever tell him shit around here?
"No!" She jumped up and grabbed his arm and tried to turn him back around. "Wait, sugah, where do ya think you're goin`?"
"To teach that fucking metal punk some god damn manners," he snarled, narrowing his eyes in warning at the hand clenched around him.
She smiled at him, "Ah don't think you're one to be teachin' anyone manners."
"Real cute, kid." His voice and face softened considerably, "Have I told you lately you bug the hell outta me? Now let me the fuck go."
"Yes ya have," her voice felt like velvet to him with that southern twang. Soft, thick, and rich. Those words described almost every part of her. Then she pulled him closer to her. He tried his damnest to ignore the feel of the side of her breast again his still imprisoned arm. When she gently pressed her lips to his shoulder he easily felt the heat and softness seared right through his shirt to his skin.
She pulled back just a little bit to smile back up at him, "Ah love hearin' it every time, too, sugah."
He no longer had any fucking control of his own god damn body. His free arm came up and stroked the back of her head without his consent. Sliding his fingers into the thick chocolate locks was completely his idea, however. He tried to say something but he still hadn't found the control switch to his fucking mouth so he settled for stroking the back of her head with his thumb. In this moment his realized what perfection actually was. It was think brown hair wrapped in his fingers, small silk hands gripping his arm, pouty lips smiling at him, and forest green eyes looking up at him.
His moment of pure bliss crashed when she had to blink her eyes shut when a drop of blood dripped from her forehead. She wiped it off with the cloth then tried to smile reassuringly at him but it was already too late. He was back to being fucking furious.
"Excuse me, darlin'. I got a Russian to kabob." He tried again to pull his arm free of her but she only tightened her grip. He growled a warning at her.
"Logan, please! He already apologized. Ya can't blame him for tryin' to protect his family. Please! If ya go down there and beat him up it'll just make everyone mad at me," she tried to convince him. His eyes darted across her face a few times.
The before she could stop him he lifted the hem of her skirt up. She couldn't help but squeak in surprise and tried to knocked his hand away.
"What are ya doin`---" he only grabbed her hand to still her and she notice she was staring at her side.
She stopped struggling at watched his eyes as they narrowed, studying the still healing wound on her side, "It's okay, sugah. It doesn't hurt as much as it use to. "
He only looked at her eyes for a second before pulling her shirt all the way up. She blushed but stayed put and let him repeat the process with the burn on her chest.
"Ya know, Jubes told me that a guy had to buy ya dinner before he could take your clothes off," she tried to joke to lightened the mood but he only frowned at her and carefully eased the shirt back down, careful that his knuckles didn't touch her side.
"Really, Logan, say something`."
But he didn't. Instead he took her hand in his and walked the two steps to the bed. He could feel her heart beat jack up to a fucking unchartable speed. He released her hand before crawling on the bed and sat on the center of it. She stood watching him, wringing the tips of her gloves in her hands. Like she always did when she was nervous. His only respond was to pat the space beside him. What worried her the most was his face was more serious then she'd ever seen. And soft. She was slightly surprised he could make a face like that.
She eased beside him and instantly his hand went into her hair. That was officially his new favorite fucking thing ever. Why the fuck had he been screwing blondes and red heads? She relished in the feel of it and closed her eyes and completely melted.
He smiled and lowered his face to hers and pulled her head forward to meet him. The kiss was soft but demanding. He felt the pull but it his mind pushed it to the back and concentrated on the feel of her full lips against his own. She tried to push him off, but he only lowered her to lay down on the bed and deepened the kiss. She still tried to severe the connection but responded to the kiss never-the-less. His hand slide from her hair down her neck to increase skin contact. She finally stopped fighting him when his hand moved into her shirt and stop on the top of her chest.
There wasn't much strength left in his body and he put everything he had into the kiss. It became desperate and fast as he tried to think about the things he wanted her to have. How much he trusted her, how much he wanted to take care of her. And definitely that he also liked telling her how much he loved her annoying him and prayed no Jean ass thoughts popped up.
He felt his hand on her chest slip as he began to loose consciousness. He fought it and pressed his hand harder to her and his lips harder to her mouth. He held on till he felt the skin under his hand no longer rippled and scarred, but the porcelain silk it was suppose to be. With the last few seconds of consciousness he moved his hand to her forehead. And satisfied that it too was now smooth and unmarred he let the gentle blackness take him to his deserved rest before he embarked on whatever the perfect side of life had in store for him. The last thing he felt was his hand limply slide from her face back into her hair.
The End.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I wanted to change this chapter, I really did. But for the life of me I couldn't come up with a different ending. So, I'm taking suggestions if you want to give them. :)