Her heart was heaving in her chest as she entered the common room. She could feel it thumping, a weightless 'ick' taking her stomach as she spotted her friends lazing about the room. She had to tell them about the Professor's offer, of how everything was going to change. The room was filled with such happiness, such light airy freedom... her heart stung at the prospect of ruining it all. She was going to herald the end of all fun, of all childhood playfulness, because in what she knew would follow, one would be hard pressed to find a place for it.
The playful thunk-thunk of the fussball table filled the room, the mindless chatter of the television buzzing in the background. Kitty and Jubilee sat at the old brown and orange sofa in the corner of the room near a window that was nestled with a heavy laden bookshelf of magazines, Kitty cradling one of them in her lap. Jubilee's distinctive voice filtered through the usual noise, and it wasn't an unpleasant sound. Her voice was high, but not shrill (unless she was in an argument with someone), and it always captured one's attention. It was welcoming and warm, and one knew by the sound of that voice that if they sat and listened, they'd hear something they'd really wanna know about. The low mumbling male-talk between St. John and Bobby was quiet underneath Jubilee's talking, but it all melded together into a mismatching symphony that Rogue knew as the song of home, her family.
She blew a sigh out through her cheeks, strolling into the room, swinging her arms and fighting to look casual. Jubilee glanced up as Rogue came close, and smiled brightly.
"Hey girl! How ya feeling?"
Rogue shrugged, toeing the floor. "Okay I guess. Um..." She closed her eyes, sighing again. This was gonna be tough. "I really need to talk to you. Well - you and - and Bobby and everyone."
Easily sensing the tension in Rogue's voice, Jubilee looked past the girl to Bobby and John, a concerned wrinkle in her brow. "Yo ROBERT!"
Bobby snarled at the fussball table, Johnny sticking out a tongue in effort. With a violent jab at the table, John let out a triumphant growl, blue eyes glinting as he grinned.
"Ha! Eat shit - beat you three times in a row!"
Bobby glowered and thwapped Johnny upside the head before looking to Jubilee. "Hey, what's up?"
Jubes shrugged. "I dunno, ask Rogue. She's the one that wants to talk to us."
Bobby frowned, loping over with John close behind him. "Rogue? Is something wrong?"
Rogue glanced up to the ceiling, trying to find the words in all her worry and anxiety. She huffed a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. "No- Yes- I dunno." She shrugged helplessly. "Just - sit down." She waited till the boys were seated next to Kitty and Jubes before she began, the light beat of her heart turning to a more nervous pumping. She fiddled with her fingers, pacing a little before facing her audience and preparing herself to speak. "Okay well... see, the thing is, I was invited to an X-Men team meeting today..."
Bobby's eyes glinted. "You - you were?"
"Yeah," she nodded, then held up her hands flat. "But that doesn't mean I'm in the team." She winced, "Not *yet* anyway..."
Jubilee's eyes widened. "Woah Nelly, let's back you up here a minute... did you say 'yet'?"
"Yeah," Rogue said, "I mean - the Professor said I was being considered for early candidacy - like, he wants me to do all this full on training and stuff."
Bobby was frowning now. "You've got to be kidding me..."
Johnny leant his arms on his knees, gazing darkly at Rogue. "What makes you so special?"
"Her new powers, doofus!" retorted Jubes, "I mean geez! She can break shit, she can fly - she's like Superman!"
"Supergirl," corrected Kitty. This garnered an annoyed glower from Jubilee.
"It's not just me," Rogue said, "It's all of us. I mean - the Professor is going to step up your training programmes - Bobby! They're preparing a curriculum where you guys can learn to fly the freakin' Blackbird!"
Johnny seemed to perk up at this, exchanging glances with Bobby. "Jeesuuus..."
Jubilee shook her head. "Woah. We weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere near the X-Jet till we'd learnt all about it in college..."
"Exactly," Rogue said. She sat down across from her friends, pulling up a chair. "Guys, I have a feeling that the Professor knows that something is going on... something big. He's upped all patrols with the X-Men, he's letting Jean use Cerebro..." Rogue glanced around herself, making sure that no one was walking by the near empty recreation room. "He's scared guys... the X-Men are scared. There's not enough of them to fight whatever's coming up, and the Professor knows it."
"Why are you telling us this?" asked Kitty.
Rogue sighed, rubbing her face in her hands. "Guys... I need to know that if I decide to join early, that you won't hate me for it." Pulling her hands away she looked at the faces of her friends. They were all tinged with worry, eyes glinting with the news that had befallen them. She'd done this, she'd taken away their carefree afternoon. Jubes tilted her head, playing with the cut-off lace gloves she wore. Rogue let spidery threads of sense reach out to the mind of her friend, capturing a splash of what the young woman was feeling.
Sad, so sad, fear, sad, love, fear, love, hope, fear...
Jubilee shrugged. "Dude... you know that we're all here for the long haul. We're here for the Professor, because he's given us so much and asked for squat in return."
"Totally," agreed Bobby.
Jubilee's eyes glinted in seriousness as she continued. "Now, if he wants you on early cause he needs you - go for it. What kind of X-Chick would you be if you turned your back on the Professor in a time of need?"
Rogue felt a warming in her heart, taking Jubilee's hand with her nerves jangling despite the apparent support. "You really mean that?"
"We all do," Bobby said, putting his hand over the girls'. He looked to Johnny, then Kitty. "Don't we?"
"Hell yeah," agreed Johnny, slapping his hand down over his friend's. Kitty jutted out her bottom lip and followed suit.
Jubilee smiled, in a manner strangely solemn. It was such a sad, mellow yet supportive expression that was on the girl's face. Rogue met the obsidian eyes of her friend, reflecting the smile given to her.
"Thank you," she said. "I wasn't sure... I am now."
"That's what we're here for," said Bobby, soft smile on his face.
She wholeheartedly wished that was all they were here for. They weren't ...they were here to fight as well.
Sleep evaded her that night. She heard the X-Jet rumble and roar to life, lifting from the dark pit that was it's hidden home and off into the night, silent and deadly. Her peers slept soundly in the room they shared, but the thought of slumbering when her friends... her would-be comrades... were out there facing the perils of the night, kept her from such activities.
It was stupid; she knew it was stupid.
The X-Men had gone off on their patrols countless times before and she'd never worried. Why she worried now of all times was beyond her. She huffed, lying in her bed, eyes wide open, body fitful with energy and thoughts racing of what her life had become. When did it get so complicated? Why was she in the middle of all of this? She was so beyond Mississippi, beyond the girl she was. She looked to her friends, mounds of blanket and sleeping bodies in their beds.
She was beyond many things. How she needed her friends though, how she needed them to keep her young. She felt too old.
I'm seventeen, she thought, I'm seventeen. I buy magazines and eat chocolate and play fussball and argue with Logan and fly-
Fly? The thought jarred in her mind. Flying... it made Carol feel free. It made her feel free. Maybe she'd go for a float around, clear her head.
Peeling off her covers, she lifted from her bed, grabbing a blanket to wrap around her for her short flight. Her feet never touched the floor; she didn't want to wake her friends. Floating across the room, she reached to door, and opening and closing it as silently as she could. Her trip to the kitchen was swift and silent, flight presenting it's many advantages. Hot chocolate, she thought. Hot chocolate with a splash of Kaluha, and a big choc-chip cookie.
She began pulling out all the things she'd need... full cream milk, cocoa, sugar... Kaluha... When the milk was on the boil, she felt something, a soft flush of warmth against the hairs of her body. She frowned, looking about herself. She wasn't alone; she could feel it.
She kept making the hot chocolate, listening carefully. She could hear shifting outside, the odd grumble. She pulled out a second mug, and as she filled them, she added a little more Kaluha to the second one. She tip-toed her way to the door, and shuffling her way through it carefully, she felt a warmth plummet and spread through her slowly as she saw who was there, who she knew had been there.
He was leaning back against the back porch balistrade, the light of the New York sky falling on his strong, hawk-like features. His nose wasn't pointed, but it was a dominant feature on his face, his brow chiselled, as were his cheekbones. His lips were thin, drawn to a troubled pout, and indeed there were little dimples of concern in his chin.
Oh Logan, she thought, sighing softly. What are you doing up at this hour?
His hair had lost it's spike from the day, and no doubt from some tossing and turning. He puffed smoke, a cigar wedged firmly between his lips, and in one hand he had a beer. She sniffed the air. Molson Export. He didn't look at her as she approached him, nor even when she knelt down next to him. His hazel eyes, blue in the dull light, gazed forward, weighted in emotion she was too frightened to read.
"What you doin' up?"
He barely moved when he grunted, "Could ask you the same thing."
She let out a deep breath, settling down onto her behind. "Couldn't sleep."
There was a pause as the man next to her seemed to relax a little. "Me either."
Rogue nodded. She held up a mug. "I made you one of these."
He looked down to it, brow cocked, and he ticked a nostril as he sniffed. "What is that?"
"Hot chocolate."
He took it, and very gingerly he lifted the mug to his lips, blowing on it. He sipped it, then grunted as the warm tingly liquid slipped down his throat. "Hot chocolate and?"
"A splash a' somethin' else," she said, narrowing her eyes little with an affectionate yet secretive curl of her lips. It wasn't quite a smile. It was more defensive than that.
"Right," Logan said with a growl to his voice. "You know you're not old enough to drink this."
She shrugged. "If I'm old enough to go kick Magneto's ass, I'm old enough to have a spirit on occasion."
Logan grew cold then, his stare becoming firm and his features sharp. Rogue felt the reason behind all this dawn on her slowly, and she wrapped her fingers around the mug in her hand tensely.
"So that's what this is all about."
Her voice was a honey drawl, quiet and tender, a little dejected sounding too. Logan grunted, shifting nervously.
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Well you're going to," Rogue said. "I'm not going to have you actin' like this every time I see you-"
"Actin' like what?" he said, turning and glaring at her.
"You know what I'm talking about," she said. "There's some huge kinda bug up your ass and it's got my name written all over it."
Logan blinked, top lip cocked and nostril curled as he processed the imagery her turn of speech presented him with, and he shook his head to rid himself of it. "Listen. I brought you here so you'd be safe, so you didn't have to worry about this anti-mutant thing. I brought you here to be protected." His words were measured, weighted, firm. "I didn't bring you here to be signed on to some frigging crusade." He pointed at her with his cigar for emphasis, then butted the smoking thing out, stuffing it into his jacket roughly.
She frowned, shrinking back as his strong words flowed over her. There was passion in his words, feeling. It was rare to hear Logan speak in anything but a laid back rumble. She gulped, trying to reign in the warm excitement inside of her that was brought alive by his care.
"Logan, there are people out there who aren't safe like me." She put her drink aside, curling her fingers around his bicep and leaning close, trying to communicate with the man who looked away from her now, hurt scowl on his features. "There are people that need our help real bad. I can't sleep, I can't live, knowin' that I'm ignorin' them."
"You're not ignoring them," he said, lips almost trembling, "You're giving yourself a chance to grow up first."
She sighed. "The Professor needs me. He's given me so much, Logan. It's the least I could do-"
He turned his head then, his nose almost touching hers, eyes blazing into hers directly. "You don't owe him anything."
Her gaze sobered. "You're right." She glanced forward, not being able to look into those impassioned eyes. "I want to do this for him."
Logan ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eye, a long sigh leaving him gently. He watched almost imperceptibly shaking fingers massage the dips in his knuckles, blinking carefully so that no tears could occur nor fall. "You almost got killed before and I'm not gonna see that again." He pressed his lips together, brow creased in pain. "I can't, and I can't -" He swallowed, then looked to her, his eyes imploring her with every inch of his soul. "I can't let that happen again, Marie."
She closed her eyes, leaning her head on his shoulder, sliding her arms around him. The dear, sweet, stubborn man. God she adored him... She could hear him sigh as she embraced him, his own arms winding around her.
"I don't know what to do, Logan," she said.
"Wait," he said. "For me... wait."
She tilted her head, pain in her eyes. "You know I can't do that."
He nodded, looking suddenly very tired. "And here-in lies our problem."
"Logan, you know things have changed-"
"Have they?" He glared at her.
"Yes!" she said. "Look at me..."
He glanced at her a moment then looked away, and with frustration Rogue grabbed his face in her gloved hands and glared deep into his eyes, her own passion on the subject erupting from within.
"It's been over a year since we first came here. A whole year. You know what that means?"
He said nothing, only jutting his bottom lip out in a scowl.
"It means a whole year of self-defense training, a whole year of workin' in the gym, a whole year of buildin' my confidence." She licked her lips, feeling her groove and going with it. "Now I made it over half-way across the damn continent without gettin' myself killed or felt up or raped - that was just me, little ol' me with no kick ass whammy, no flyin', no invulnerability and no mind readin'!"
Logan glowered. "That was something you shouldn't have to have done-"
"Neither is joinin' the X-Men Logan," she said. "It's something you shouldn't have to do either. You've done enough fightin' in your life, don't you think?" Only silence answered her. "Why do you do it? I know you hate it. Why do you do it?"
He sighed, looking away, Rogue's hands slipping from his face and resting on his shoulders. "Cause... I dunno. I ask myself the same thing all the damned time."
She pursed her lips. "And what's the answer you get?"
He looked back to her softly. "I do it, cause I got to."
Rogue smiled ruefully, tightening her hands around his shoulders lightly. "Same here."
He sighed, nodding, and looked back to her. They were close, her body warm and soft against his, her face a breath away from his own. She fought herself not to tremble, instead secretly adoring the sensation of Logan's firm musculature under her fingertips. After a moment of looking over her features, of examining her eyes deeply, he spoke.
"I know you're like - super-woman now. I've experienced the evidence, damn it." He held up a hand, the one that had almost been crushed if it hadn't have been for his adamantium bones.
Her heart froze as he paused. His eyes blazed, his brows tilted up... she remembered that look... Warm metal, right through her chest, the pain, oh the pain... so warm... He sighed, looking back and forth, lips pulled back in seeming confusion. He looked back to her finally, as if he'd managed to get a hold on some emotion inside of him.
"I worry." He looked angry with himself. "I worry so much sometimes I can't think. It was my fault you got taken by Magneto that first time, and it was my fault you got stuck with that psycho bitch in your head-"
She brought a hand to his face again, brows tilted, heart rending. She shook her head as she met his tortured eyes, slowly yet firm. She didn't say anything; she didn't have to.
"It was-"
Another shake of her head. She found herself running her thumb over the plane of his cheek, gently pulling him close. "I'd be nowhere without you."
It was as if she'd spoken an absolution. Logan sighed, closing his eyes, arms sliding around her waist as she pulled him into a warm, tight embrace. She leant her head on top of his, running her fingers through his tousled hair, her eyes drifting shut as he leant against her. She could feel his breath puff against her chest, his fingertips run little needy circles on her back and in the lilt of her waist. Her heart swelled with something intangible, she couldn't even begin to describe it.
It was warm and it was encompassing. It filled her to the very tips of her self, and it flowed through her, through him, binding them, making them whole. She wasn't sure what it was, but holding Logan like this, she'd never felt so complete in her entire life. She ventured to press a kiss to the top of his head, her lips warm and firm against his protected scalp. He shifted, and she felt afraid, that maybe perhaps she'd done the wrong thing. Upon seeing the warmth in his eyes, the brimming need, she knew that she'd done exactly what he needed her to. She ran her hand down his face, cradling it once more, caressing it gently... she felt so dizzy, so intoxicated... His eyelids wavered as if he were a little drunk, but there was a clarity in them that she knew this wasn't so. His hand drifted up, enclosing over the hand that held his face, stroking it softly and she felt his other hand run those maddeningly delicious circles in the small of her back, over the dip in her spine.
"Logan..."
She breathed his name, she needed to, and it seemed to feed him. His other hand slipped down, flat against the curve of her back, nestled between her shoulder blades, drawing her forward slowly...
He stopped. His eyes darted about, a gleam in them, one of alarm. She held her breath, brows drawing together.
"Logan?"
"Something's wrong..."
He let go of her, jumping to his feet and stalking to the other side of the back porch. He tilted his head, hands spread out, tense like a cat flat in long grass.
She hated when he acted like this; it frightened her. She balled her fists, glancing around. "What is it?"
He looked down suddenly. "The alarms... they're goin' off..."
That's when Rogue felt it. An echoing rush of a voice that touched her mind effortlessly, so tremendously powerful it rattled her every bone in her body. She gasped, grabbing for Logan.
"Oh my God-" she gasped, cradling her head.
//X-Men,// the voice said, //To the briefing room immediately.//
Logan turned, taking her hand. "You okay?"
She blinked, trying to get used to the sensation of power that had so briefly rushed through her and was as quickly gone. "What the hell was that?"
He sighed. "Duty call."
She stood up, mentally shaking the unsettling sensations from her body. "I never, I mean-"
"No," he said. "You wouldn't have. You never been a member of the team before."
Rogue had never seen the lower levels like this. Red lights she didn't even realise existed flared from the ceiling, sending the usually cool blue shiny corridors into a warm flushed panic. She raced through, Logan pulling her along by her hand. She patted his hand, assuring him with this gesture that she was fine, and glancing back to her he nodded and let go. He pulled off his jacket, and storming around the corner he saw Scott and Ororo kitting up.
"What's going on?" he asked, pulling off his excess clothing and grabbing his uniform from its case.
"Don't know," Scott said, "I only just got back from routine patrol when the alarm went off."
Logan lifted a brow. "You see anything funny going on out there?"
"No," Scott said in a dry tone, "Was all just peachy."
Rogue looked about, fiddling her fingers, not knowing quite what to do. Scott looked back at her.
"Don't worry about getting changed," he said. "We're probably fine for this mission."
Rogue frowned. "Then why did the Professor call me here?"
Now Cyke frowned. "He did?"
She nodded.
"Oh." He shrugged and pointed to the change room. "Then go get into uniform."
Rogue nodded again, rushing into the change room, Logan close behind her. Her heart raced, she'd never felt like this. It was exciting, but terrifying. She didn't know what to feel, it was a confused rush that made her stomach wince. Without thought she pulled off her clothes, down to her underwear and then slid on the thick leather jumpsuit, the sounds of revving zippers and the squeak of unused leather filling her ears. All there was was her uniform going onto her body, her mind trying to ease itself to a precarious state of calm. She didn't even register the fact that Logan was stripping down behind her. It didn't matter.
All she could see was the glaring red lights pleading for her service.
Snapping her stomach buckle closed she felt a slap on her shoulder.
"Come on, Kid, let's go."
She glanced over her shoulder to Logan, nodding. "Okay."
They strode from the change room, turning down the corridors towards the Briefing room, their booted steps clacking and thumping, rebounding off the walls into a dour echo. The door at the end of the corridor slid open as the drew closer, and inside the X-Men stood around the table, arms crossed, all gazing at their leader.
Xavier turned his head and looked to them.
"Rogue, Logan."
"Professor," the both of them replied in a worried unison.
"As I was saying," Xavier said, speaking to his team, "There seems to be only a small group of mutants infiltrating the facilitiy, targeting the sub-levels."
Wolverine frowned, looking back and forth between the X-Men and the Professor. "What the hell is going on?"
Xavier ignored him, listening instead to Cyclops.
"So what do you want us to do?"
"Stop them from injuring anybody," Xavier said, "And find out what it is they want. This lab is government owned - this is no coincidence, Scott."
"Yes sir," nodded Cyclops.
"The lab schematics have been transmitted to the X-Jet, and you already have my instructions. Take care."
The X-Men nodded, trotting off out the door, Wolverine and Rogue looking about them in bewilderment. Rogue turned to the Professor, crossing her arms, cocking a brow and a hip.
"You care to tell us why you brought us down here in the middle of the night?"
Xavier turned, wheeling himself towards them. "Just moments ago there was a break-in at a leading genetics lab in Manhattan. The infiltrators are mutants, and I sense that this is no random attack."
"Right," Logan nodded. "Then why are we standin' here yappin' while the rest of the brigade is out bashin' heads?"
Xavier blinked, the aggression floating past him. "I brought you here for back-up, in the event that the team needs it."
Rogue sighed, swapping hips to cock. "You think they'll need it?"
Xavier smiled lightly. "I'm hoping not."
Rogue nodded. "How'd you find out about this anyhow?" she asked.
"Cerebro," said Xavier. "Tremendously useful device, don't you know."
"Oh, I know it," Rogue said. "So what are you gonna do?"
"Monitor the situation from that very device, while you both wait in the television monitor room." Xavier turned and wheeled off, leaving Logan and Rogue with each other. Logan glowered, folding his arms.
"Great. I get to catch up on my soaps," he said dryly. Rogue nodded, and looked between them.
"Well lookee us," she drawled, "All dressed up and no place to go."
Logan narrowed his eyes at her non-appreciatively and poked her gently in the shoulder. "You go to the tv room. I'm gettin' the pack of cards."
Rogue sighed. "Oh yay."
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