Logan held her in his arms for the first time in almost twenty years. She was just as warm as he remembered, and just as soft. He would have been more comfortable if it wasn’t for the fact that his mind was racing, trying to wrap its self around the events that had transpired. His daughter was finally home and safe in the room next to his where she belonged. After an extensive medical exam, Hank had declared her perfectly healthy and fit. Emma Frost would be there in the morning to check her over psychologically. Logan wasn’t sure why. She seemed perfectly sane to him, and doing much better than most people her age would be under the circumstances.
He wasn’t so sure about the woman lying in his arms, though. She was harder; crueler. She was also more calculating and bold. The Rogue from twenty years ago would have never kissed Sabertooth the way she had. She never would have considered threatening Magneto. And then, to top it off, be able to sleep soundly. She was more like him now than she ever had been before, and, he was afraid to admit, the darker part of him liked it.
The streets had made her harder than the people in her head would ever have been able to. It was one of those things you could only gain from personal experience.
His mind wandered more, trying to decipher who would have ordered their child taken in the first place. He knew it wasn’t Sabertooth. The man just wasn’t smart enough for that. But he may have known who had ordered it. And that little bit of information might have been one of the things Rogue had stolen from him when she kissed him.
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