The sun was warm, beating down upon her swathed up body. Gloved hands cradled a rose... if she didn't keep the gloves on, the plant would wither, and she'd have dreams of bees and earth and sunshine. Her eyes caressed the fleshy petals as her gentle soft fingertips could not, and her shoulder-length, lightly feathered hair fluttered about her face in a gentle breeze.
The earth beneath her was warm. She dug her toes into the damp bouncy soil, gripping the woodchip-strewn peat under the pads of her bare feet. It was a rare treat, walking bare foot, but she needed the luxury. She enjoyed the sensations of the world for a brief while, the warm fertile soil, the cool concrete, the crystal waters of the main pond and the cool slap of the marble surrounding it. For a brief moment it soothed the ache she felt inside, the strange ache that was different to any other one felt. It wasn't about small things... it wasn't about one's self, or someone she knew... even though on some level it was. It was about everything, about many people, about mass suffering. It made her whole body seem heavier, and the ache pulled at every inch of her body. She couldn't let it overwhelm her though, because she had to be there, had to help others stop the cause.
She smelt him before she saw him, the vestigial gift of slightly heightened smell his legacy to her from their brief bonding. Today he smelt more of light soap and skin rather than cigars. He'd been too busy to sit down and enjoy one, she guessed.
"Hey..."
She looked up to him and smiled softly. "Hey."
He walked over to her, hands deep in his pockets, a pouting thoughtful frown on his features as he watched her hands feather over the rose in front of her. He looked nice for some reason. Maybe she just appreciated everything more because of current circumstances, she wasn't sure. His hair was a little fluffy, his hair products not capturing all the hair. A few locks bustled down against his forehead in the light breeze, and the warm brown colour of them brought out the gentle hazel of his eyes. Many times, she'd seen his features hard, aggressive. She was fully aware not everyone got to see him like this, that it was a secret treasure. His brow was smooth of any concern, and his mouth was full and not pulled back in aggression. It was slightly upturned in curiosity. He had his leather jacket on, a nice shirt, worn jeans and his old shit-kickers. Yeah, he wasn't wearing anything special, but he looked really good that morning.
"Why don't you take your gloves off and touch it?"
She looked down to the rose. "Cause if I do that, I'll start thinkin' I'm a rose bush."
He nodded slowly. "Ah."
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he said, looking to a rose that stretched up from the bush next to him. "Just came back from the Professor's office. A few of us were talking about the new patrol rosters, a little meeting thing..." He shrugged, touching the rose in front of him, his finger sinking into the petals. "I stayed back and uh -talked to the Prof about you."
She rose her brows. Oh no. It was getting dangerous, and now Logan didn't want her to be on the team more than ever. She bit back a sigh, steeling herself up for an argument she knew had to come.
"I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye on this," he said, hands back in pockets again. He looked to the ground, boyish frown on his face, toe of his boot digging into the dirt. "I just - after yesterday, I had a good think about things and about the whole issue of you on the team, and considering the current circumstances-" He stopped, sighing.
Rogue's stomach tied itself in a knot, and she frowned with wide eyes. Just say it! she thought.
"I thought it'd be best if you came onto the team when you felt you were ready."
She gasped, covering her mouth, brows tilting up. "Logan..."
"Lemme finish, Kid. Now, if it's sooner or later, it's up to you, but uh..." He pressed his lips together. "You were terrific out there, Marie. I know Cyke is worried about the team and all, and it isn't the same without ya." He rolled his tongue about in his mouth a moment in thought. "I still don't like the idea of you on the front-line, but I saw you yesterday and I think you were really doing something you were meant to."
Rogue felt a warm spreading sting in her eyes, and she ran her hand up and down her arm, holding herself through the rush of affection within her. "You mean that?"
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah I do. If it's something you wanna do, then do it."
She broke into a smile, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Logan. "Thank you."
He looked down at her, hand hovering over her head. "It's... it's okay." He let the hand touch her hair, cradling her head and holding her close.
He was warm, warm like the sun. The smell of soap from his shower that morning filled her lungs, and the soft fuzz of his flannel shirt caressed her face every time he took a breath. His arms were large and strong about her, and even though she could do a thousand amazing things with her strength, in that one moment she was slight and small, harmless in his arms. She gave a soft moan and a final squeeze, then pulled at him before letting him go. "Come on, let's go get my shoes."
"Where'd you leave 'em?"
"By the main pond," she said. They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the warm day filling the distance between them. She glanced back at him. "Hey, did you see the news this morning?"
Logan shook his head. "Too busy plannin' how to bash the crap out of people with the Professor."
She sighed, watching her feet pad along the concrete walkway. "They're freakin' out in the White House. Demanding that Senator Kelly take up his anti-mutant stance again."
Logan snorted. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen."
Rogue flapped her arms in exasperation, walking towards her Doctor Martins as they reached the pond. "Things are getting worse."
"Happens, before they get better."
Rogue glanced up at Logan, her boot in her hands, a look of confusion on her features. "I didn't figure you for an optimist."
A smile, small and mischievous, touched Logan's face briefly. "I'm not, but one of us has to be."
She nodded, stuffing her foot into a sock. "What do you think Magneto's gonna do with the information?"
Logan shrugged. "Dunno. You're the one with the guy in your head, what does he say?"
She blew a sigh through her cheeks. She really didn't want to access that part of her mind, but considering that she was the only one with such an understanding of him, it was a necessary evil. She closed her eyes and winced. "Most of his jumble goes on about countermeasures... recruiting..." Her eyes fell open and she looked to Logan. "Necessary sacrifices." Logan frowned, edging forward slightly, but before he could offer any comfort she shook herself, stuffing her foot in one of her boots and sighing. "I sit here and look around me, and everything's nice... it's like it's not real." She glanced up to him, and a sadness splashed in her eyes. "But I look at you, at the Professor... all of you guys. You don't smile as much... and I know it is."
He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his. "Hey..." He tilted his head, trying to draw her down turned gaze up. "We're all gonna try and do something about this." She met his eyes, nodding silently. "The bastards ain't got us licked yet."
She nodded with a smile. "I know, I just... I worry about people."
"Yeah," said Logan, "I know." He brought her gloved knuckles up to his lips, pressing a kiss there. Although wrapped in fabric, her skin could feel the warmth of them, the soft give of his flesh. She smiled again.
"Thank you."
Logan stood, ruffling her hair. "Don't mention it."
She grinned and ducked her head away. "Now you gone and messed up my hair..."
"I know it's not like me to rattle out somethin' ol' One-Eye said to someone else, but I think you've been hangin' out with Jubilee too much."
The loud clunk of her boots replied to Logan as she stomped her feet on the pavement, making sure that her boots were on right. "It's okay. I got her sayin 'Y'all'. Soon I might get her sayin' 'Howdy', and it's all fun and games from there."
Logan turned away from the pond, walking with her back to the mansion. "As long as you don't start saying 'radical', I don't care."
She giggled, wrapping her arms around one of his and snuggling to it. "No problem, dude."
He gave her a firm glare, hinted with a glint of laughter, and she laughed again. It was a nice moment, a nice moment encased in a shell of calm. Always, in the back of her mind, as she laughed and smiled, there was that all-encompassing ache. It roared back to life when the laughing stopped, and it made her sigh unwittingly. She enjoyed his company, enjoyed the day, because, although she didn't want to admit it to herself, not now, not ever, it might be the last she'd live. Or very possibly the last that Logan would live… or any of them.
They moved through the motions of preparation, and Rogue made a place in her room for the notes she'd receive from the Professor during briefings. Her friends made room in their schedules for special training, and the television made room in their programming for special bulletins on the 'Mutant Problem'. Life went on, but it wasn't the same. That dull ache came back when Rogue thought that maybe, it never would be.
Things were changing, and the war had begun.
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