The sudden chirping of a phone somewhere near the center console broke the silence in the vehicle.
“What the hell?” Logan couldn’t contain his startled exclamation, and the Explorer swerved dangerously as his arms jerked in surprise. The sudden erratic movement at least startled Rogue somewhat out of her stupor. “Damn it, Chuck. Every car you own has to come equipped with a phone, doesn’t it? Where the hell is the darn thing anyway?” Logan muttered as he furiously jabbed at buttons and panels in the SUV’s interior. Just as he was getting ready to pop his claws and start tearing things apart, Rogue reached forward and flipped open a compartment near the radio controls.
Logan glanced at her quickly before grabbing the phone. Her face wasn’t quite as pale as it had been during the last part of the interview, but she was still studiously avoiding his eyes. In fact, she seemed determined not to focus on anything inside the vehicle. Even though Logan knew she couldn’t possibly see anything, Rogue was staring resolutely out into the dark night.
“Yeah?” he grunted into the phone.
“Logan?” Xavier’s voice was soft, uneasy, and it put Logan immediately on edge.
“Chuck? What’s the matter?”
Xavier cleared his throat several times before speaking again. “I apologize for calling, Logan, but there’s something we really must speak about. I would have contacted you telepathically, but I didn’t want to startle you while you’re driving.”
“Well hell, Chuck, I almost drove us right off the road anyway ‘cause of this damn phone ringin’.”
“My apologies, Logan. How’s Rogue?” Xavier almost slurred the sentences together in his haste to get the question out. Logan frowned. The professor was usually incredibly precise in his speech, enunciating carefully and pausing for the appropriate amount of time. Xavier’s speech becoming suddenly sloppy at the mention of Rogue’s name told Logan that she was the real subject of concern.
“Fine I guess,” Logan answered cautiously. Does he want her to know we’re talkin’ about her or not? he wondered.
“Not,” was the professor’s immediate reply.
“Ohh-kay,” Logan said slowly. “So what’s goin’ on?”
“Is she acting normally?”
“Not really,” Logan grunted, stealing another glance at Rogue. “And I’m not sure why, but I could make a guess.”
Xavier’s sigh sounded weak and fuzzy coming from the phone. “It was something her father said,” he explained. “I’m not sure what actually set Rogue off, though.”
Logan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Well, can’t you just take a look around and find out?”
“I tried.” The professor’s tone was a mix of exasperation and concern. “I was unable to get into her mind even using Cerebro. Her consciousness hasn’t exactly disappeared, but it’s almost like it’s underwater. At a very great depth. I can make out its general shape and presence, but any attempt I make to get closer just causes it to recede further.”
“What the hell’s that mean?” Logan growled. He was cutting his gaze regularly between the road and Rogue, searching the side of her face and her body language for any clue as to her mood. His nostrils flared slightly as he tried to catch her scent. Just a hint of her strawberry shampoo and nothing else, no anger, sadness, or anxiety. Nothing to clue him in on what was going on inside her mind.
“The only thing I’ve ever seen that resembles it is shock. Something her father said has actually caused a…a…dissociative episode I suppose you could say.”
“That’s bad, right?” But she heard the phone ringin’ and she responded to it, so she’s not totally gone.
“That’s good,” Xavier said in relief.
“The episode thingy you mentioned is good?” Logan asked in disbelief.
“No, no, my apologies. That she responded to the phone ringing is good. The dissociation itself is bad. But I’m not quite so worried now; she’s likely to begin responding more soon, so there’s no need to try nudging her mentally. I’ve talked it over a bit with Hank, and he suggested that you just keep trying to talk to her. She’s more likely to respond to you than somebody else in any case.”
Talk? About what? It’s not like I’m a great conversationalist or anythin’. Shit, she’s usually the one doin’ all the talkin’ and I just sit and listen. Grunt occasionally when she expects a response.
Xavier chuckled. “Anything will be fine, Logan. Perhaps ask if she’s hungry, or where she’d like to stop for the night. Just don’t mention her father or the interview directly. Let her be the one to bring it up, and if she doesn’t seem to want to continue talking about it, let her change the subject.”
“Right,” Logan grunted.
Xavier cleared his throat yet again and changed the subject. “I imagine you are heading into Canada?”
“Yeah, just crossed the border ‘bout an hour ago. Wanna drive at least another hour or two. Too many American tourists closer to the border, and I don’t want to have to deal with anybody who might have seen or heard about the interview.”
Rogue flinched slightly.
“Sounds good, Logan. I’ll contact you again tomorrow afternoon. But if anything comes up, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Logan just grunted again and snapped the phone closed. He tossed it carelessly into the change tray under the radio console and noticed the way Rogue started to turn her head toward the sound.
Chuck said to talk to her…might as well see what happens.
“You hungry, darlin’?”
No answer.
“Darlin’?” Her shoulders stiffened a bit, but she didn’t look at him. Logan cleared his throat and said slightly louder, “Marie? I said, you hungry?”
Rogue gave a quick, almost violent shake of her head as she continued looking out her window. The gesture tossed her white-streaked bangs into her eyes, but she made no move to pull them away.
“Darlin’, you okay?” Logan asked, reaching out to brush her hair back from her face. His fingers had just barely brushed Rogue’s temple when she jerked away from him, slamming her head hard against the window.
“Ow! Shit!” Rogue cursed loudly, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead.
“Shit, you okay?”
“No, Ah’m not okay,” Rogue ground out, whipping her head around to glare at him. There were angry, pained tears standing in her eyes, but when Logan saw her stubborn look, he knew that they wouldn’t be allowed to spill down her cheeks.
“Let me see,” Logan said, reaching toward her again. Rogue rudely slapped his hand away.
What the hell’s she angry at us for? The Wolverine was as bewildered as he was by Rogue’s behavior.
Logan inhaled deeply, scenting the air. I don’t know. I don’t smell anythin’, so at least we know she isn’t bleedin’.
“Fine,” he said out loud. “We’ll stop in about an hour for somethin’ to eat, and you can put some ice on it then.
“Ah don’t need ice, dammit.” Rogue’s tone was still angry, but now it was bordering on petulant.
“Darlin’, from the way it sounded when you hit the window, you’re gonna have one hell of a bruise. Trust me, you’re gonna want to ice it.”
“An’ what the hell would you know ‘bout it? Since ya heal from everythin’, ya’ve never had to ice anythin’ in yer damned life.” The comment had a vicious undertone to it.
What the hell? Wolverine and Logan thought simultaneously.
“Listen, Marie,” Logan said angrily, “I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on with you, but you don’t have to get pissy with me.”
“Pissy?” Rogue spat, dropping her hand away from her forehead. Logan took the chance to look her over, visually confirming that she really hadn’t broken the skin. “Well excuse me if ya think Ah’m bein’ ‘pissy.’ Ah’ve had a shitty day, an’ maybe Ah’m just not able to handle it with yer preferred degree o’ stoicism.”
“What the hell makes you think I prefer shit to be bottled up?”
Don’t lose it, Wolverine growled a warning. There’s obviously somethin’ wrong with our girl, and snappin’ at her probably won’t help her.
Fuck that, Logan returned, astounded that the Wolverine was the one urging gentleness and caution. She wants to get nasty about shit, I’m gonna give her nasty. Wolverine snarled viciously, but Logan felt him retreat slightly. He would probably just sit back and observe for now.
Fine, he growled softly. But you treat her too rough and I’ll smack you down, got it, bub?
Logan snorted, the irony of being threatened by his alter ego finally getting to him.
“Think you know everythin’ about me, do you?” he asked, returning to the conversation with Rogue.
She glared at him mutinously and wordlessly tapped the side of her head.
“Oh. Right.” Logan was temporarily at a loss. While it was true that he preferred to hide his emotions, he didn’t think Rogue should have to. If he said that to her, though, she would undoubtedly declare it a sexist double standard. He cursed inwardly; the Wolverine was right. An argument right now wouldn’t do her any good, but if Xavier was right, he had to keep her talking. He settled on asking her something he had always wondered about. “Exactly how much of me do you have up there?”
Rogue’s look turned cautious. “What do ya mean?”
“How much of what you know about me is from havin’ me ramblin’ around in your head, and how much is stuff you’ve learned bein’ my friend?”
Rogue smiled slightly at the word, which she normally did whenever Logan referred to their relationship.
“Ah’m not sure Ah know anymore,” she said softly.
Logan’s curious look prompted her to explain.
“Ah mean things like ya wantin’ yer coffee black and scaldin’ hot, Ah’m not sure if Ah know that from havin’ ya in mah head, or if Ah know that ‘cause of when Ah snagged yer mug from ya durin’ breakfast that one time an’ burned the hell out o’ mah tongue.” Rogue’s delicately arched brows drew together in a frown. “Then again, if Ah’d known that from havin’ ya in mah head, Ah pro’ly wouldn’t have drank yer coffee in the first place. Or maybe Ah would have? I dunno. Sometimes Ah don’t know what’s me and what’s not.”
“What’s that mean?” Logan grunted, turning away from the road to look at her.
Rogue held his gaze steadily for a few seconds and answered only when he had to look back at the road. “Ah dunno how to explain it. It’s kinda like, at times, Ah am ya.”
“What the hell?” Logan couldn’t hold back the startled exclamation. She isn’t saying I’m takin’ her over, is she? “Are you sayin’ it’s like you’re possessed?” He cringed inwardly as he heard how horrified he sounded.
“No,” Rogue was quick to reassure him. “Just that…” Her hands waved helplessly in front of her as she searched for the words. “Havin’ ya in mah head doesn’t force me to do anythin’, but sometimes Ah’ll want mah steak rare when Ah normally eat it well done.”
“Steak,” Logan said slowly. “And the coffee? You’re sayin’ I make you eat different?”
“No. Yeah…sorta. It’s not just food, but that was the easiest example Ah could think of.”
“You’re gonna have to explain it a little more, darlin’, ‘cause I don’t get it.”
Rogue let out an exasperated huff of air. “Okay, yer cigars, for example.” Logan quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t look away from the road. “Ah have a cravin’ fer cigars that Ah know Ah got from ya, an Ah have yer memories o’ the way they taste, an’ in the memory, Ah like ‘em. But in real life, Ah hate ‘em. Think they’re disgustin’. Beer, on the other hand, Ah like in the memories an’ in real life. But they don’t taste exactly the same.”
“Huh.” Logan couldn’t resist his next question. “Which is better? The way it tastes to me, or the way it tastes to you?”
Rogue chuckled. “Ah don’t know. They’re both good, but different. An’ when ye’re fresh in mah head, beer actually tastes to me like it does to ya. Takes a while fer that to fade.”
“But it does fade. What about the memories, do they fade?”
“Just like any memory would. Yer memories get kinda fuzzy to me just like mah own do, but they don’t go away.”
Logan shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he wanted the answer to a question he had been wondering about for years.
Gotta keep her talkin’, Wolverine reminded him.
“What do you know about me from my memories?” Logan obscured his real question in general phrasing.
Rogue frowned in response. “Ah know everythin’ about ya that ya knew about yerself at the time Ah absorbed ya.”
“Yeah, but…I mean, do you know everythin’?”
“Ah…Logan, Ah don’t know what ye’re askin’.”
“Gimme another example of somethin’ you know and somethin’ you don’t know.”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay. Yer cigars again. Ya don’t smoke ‘em anymore, an’ Ah don’t know why.”
“You don’t?” Logan was surprised.
“No. Ah never asked ya why ya quit.”
“But you’ve got me in your head. Shouldn’t you know from that?”
“No.” Rogue’s tone was growing increasingly frustrated. “Ya quit a long time after Ah last absorbed any o’ yer memories, an’ at that time, ya weren’t even considerin’ givin’ ‘em up. So the reason ya quit is somethin’ Ah won’t know unless ya tell me, an’ Ah won’t ask, ‘cause Ah do know from yer memories that ya value yer privacy an’ don’t like havin’ to explain yer reasonin’ to people.”
“When you never asked, I just assumed you already knew the reason.” He chuckled.
“Well Ah don’t.”
Logan looked at her curiously. “You’re not gonna ask?”
“Logan! Ah just told ya Ah won’t pry ‘cause Ah know ya don’t like it.” Now she sounded angry.
“I never mind anythin’ you ask me, darlin’.”
“Ya don’t volunteer much though,” Rogue pouted.
That got a real laugh out of him. “That’s because if you don’t ask, I figure you already know.”
“Well shit, Ah guess Ah gotta ask then. Why did ya quit smokin’ yer cigars?” she asked cheekily.
“Because you wrinkled your nose.”
“What?”
“Whenever I smoked them around you, or whenever you could smell the smoke on my clothes, you wrinkled your nose. I figured you didn’t like the smell.”
“Well, Ah didn’t. But that didn’t mean ya had to quit.”
Logan shrugged. “It was really just a habit more than anythin’.” He threw her a grin. “Now, if you had objected to my drinkin’ beer, that would have been a different story.”
Rogue laughed and shoved his shoulder lightly.
She seems fine, Wolverine commented quietly.
Yeah.
So, why don’t you ask the question we’ve both been wonderin’ ‘bout?
Logan cleared his throat. “So darlin’, you said you know everythin’ ‘bout me that I knew when you absorbed me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So does that mean that you know, uh…do you know about stuff like…” Logan trailed off as he rethought the wisdom of asking this particular question. “Hm. No, nevermind.”
Rogue stared at him, bemused. “What’s the matter, sugar? Are ya tryin’ to ask if Ah know somethin’ like what yer favorite sexual position is?”
Logan sputtered and coughed. “No! No, that thought never crossed my mind.”
Liar.
They continued driving silently for the next several minutes. Finally, when Logan’s curiosity and Wolverine’s constant badgering for an answer wore him down, he blurted, “Well, do you?”
Turning away from her window, Rogue blinked a few times at him in feigned confusion. “Do Ah what, sugar?”
“Do you know…aw hell!” he snarled. “Nevermind.”
Rogue laughed and looked out her window again. “Who would’ve ever guessed,” she said innocently, “that the big, bad Wolverine prefers good, old-fashioned missionary position.”
“Shit,” Logan growled in resignation. “So you do know.”
“Yup,” Rogue said, giving him the biggest, most self-satisfied grin he’d ever seen.
I don’t know if I like the nasty edge to that smile. If he didn’t know any better, Logan would have sworn that the Wolverine was nervous.
* * *
An hour later as he pulled into the parking lot in front of a diner advertising twenty-four hour service, Logan wasn’t worried about Rogue anymore. She had returned pretty much to normal except for a few unusually long pauses in their conversation, but after the day they had had, even he was prone to bouts of brooding introspection. He thought nothing of the silence that fell as they ate, the way Rogue never lifted her gaze from her plate. He thought nothing of the fact that she didn’t even remove her gloves to pick up her hamburger and the fact that she ate her fries with a fork. He wasn’t worried when she didn’t order her customary dessert of chocolate cake even when he pointed it out on the menu. When he asked her what she thought about checking into the motel across the street, he didn’t worry that she replied with only a shrug.
What did worry him, however, was the way she ducked away from him when he went to sling his arm over her shoulders as they walked out of the diner.
She’s never done that before, Wolverine was quick to point out.
I know, Logan replied, frowning. He watched Rogue carefully, not liking the carefully measured three feet she kept between them. I guess Chuck was right after all. Damned if I know what’s wrong though.
“Come on,” Logan grunted softly. “I’m not gonna bother movin’ the Explorer, so let’s just grab our bags from the back.”
Rogue complied wordlessly and opened the back passenger door. She froze as she swung her black duffel over her shoulder. Logan, having opened the other door, observed her from the opposite side of the vehicle. He heard the way the woven nylon duffle strap creaked as she tightened her grip on it; if she hadn’t been wearing her gloves, he had no doubt that he would be able to see her knuckles turn white with the strain.
He swung his own bag onto his shoulder and followed Rogue’s gaze down to the floorboard where her bag had been. Resting at a right angle to each other were her bunny slippers.
Shit. She’s thinkin’ about the rabbits and the interview.
Probably, Logan returned uneasily. Straightening up, he closed his door and walked around to stand next to Rogue.
“I grabbed ‘em this mornin’ when I brought our bags out. Figured you’d be wantin’ ‘em if we had to stay away from the mansion for a while.”
Rogue reached out to grab them, her movements jerky and stilted. She picked up the slippers in one hand and hugged them to her chest.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, and turned to walk across the street.
Logan followed slowly, making no move to get any closer to her or to put his arm around her. Her posture was screaming “Don’t touch,” and his pride was still a bit bruised from her avoidance a couple minutes ago.
Get her talkin’, Wolverine reminded him. That’s what Chuck said to do, and we shouldn’t let her go to bed like this. There’s no tellin’ what she’ll be like tomorrow if she has all night to stew about whatever’s botherin’ her.
Yeah, but he also said not to mention the interview directly, so how the hell are we supposed to get her talkin’ about it? Logan returned in a frustrated growl.
He could feel Wolverine also observing Rogue through his eyes. She walked into the motel office with her shoulders stiff and her eyes directed at the floor; her grip on the strap over her shoulder didn’t seem to have lessened at all, and the fuzzy slippers were mashed flat against her chest, their startled eyes now seeming to be a result of her tight grip. She stopped in front of the counter and waited for him to catch up.
“Can I help you?” the clerk asked.
Rogue ignored him.
“Yeah,” Logan said, stepping up beside her. “We need two rooms.”
“Two, huh?” The clerk eyed him and then Rogue with a leer. He showed his nicotine-yellowed teeth in a knowing smile and Rogue stiffened. “Yeah, sure. ‘Cept we don’t got two rooms.”
“Fine. One room with two beds then,” Logan ground out.
You know what that bastard’s thinkin’, right? Wolverine whispered.
Yeah. He’s thinkin’ Rogue’s younger than she is and that I’m a pedophile tryin’ to keep up a front of propriety. And she knows it too, dammit.
She does look younger than she is, Wolverine admitted. Especially holdin’ onto those slippers like that.
Dammit all! She does not need to deal with shit like this after the day she’s had.
“Look, bub. You got a room for us or not?” Logan slapped a few twenties onto the counter, thinking to speed the process along.
The clerk’s grin widened. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll help you out, buddy.” He winked at Logan and waggled his eyebrows in Rogue’s direction.
Logan heard the strap of Rogue’s bag creak again as she tightened her grip. He growled low and deep in his chest and the clerk started.
“Uh, yeah. So we have some rooms left, but they’re all with just one bed. I’m sure you two can figure somethin’ out.” He slid a key across the counter and scooped up the money all in one gesture.
Logan snatched the key quickly and checked the room number on the tag.
“Come on, kid,” he grunted, leading the way across what was meant to be a courtyard. The concrete benches were crumbling under denuded trees and the paving stones were cracked underfoot. He heard Rogue’s startled gasp as she tripped on one, but he made no move to catch her. After a couple stumbling steps, she regained her balance and followed him up the poorly lit stairs to the open second floor hallway. At the Wolverine’s quiet urging, he began speaking as they walked down the hallway.
“Listen, darlin’, just ignore that idiot. He’s sick in the head and whatever he was thinkin’ is his problem, not ours. Some people don’t need a reason to think the worst of other people, and he’s obviously one of them. And he’s not even worth your time or consideration, you got that?” Vaguely aware that he was beginning to ramble, Logan paused briefly to give Rogue a chance to respond. When she didn’t, he continued. “Matter of fact, his opinion says nothin’ about you. I bet you anythin’ he took one look at me and decided I looked like the type to do somethin’ disgustin’ like go after a little girl. Not that you look like a little girl…that’s probably just what he thought.”
Logan felt something like relief when they reached the door to their room. He unlocked it slowly and glanced over his shoulder toward Rogue quickly as he stepped into the room.
“Don’t worry about him, darlin’. He doesn’t know anythin’ ‘bout us, and it doesn’t matter what he thought. You know and I know that you wouldn’t be involved in anythin’ like what that guy was thinkin’. That’s all that matters here.”
Logan had just flicked the light switch on when the door slammed violently shut behind him. He jumped a little in surprise and whirled around to face Rogue.
“Shit, darlin’. What’d you do that for?”
Rogue glared at him as she dropped her bag onto the floor beside her and flung the bunny slippers toward the side of the bed.
She’s angry, Wolverine noted in surprise as they took in her narrowed eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw.
“What the hell do ya know ‘bout it, Logan?” Rogue’s voice was a hateful snarl. “Ya think ya know everythin’ ‘bout me? Enough to decide in an instant that other people are wrong when they talk ‘bout me? Well guess what, sugar. Two people in just one day have thought Ah’m a whore. My f-father,” Rogue swallowed hard before continuing, “and now that skeevy little man downstairs. What’s more likely, Logan, that one person is right while two are wrong? Or is it the other way around? What would ya think if ya were wrong? Maybe Ah am a whore an’ ya just don’t know it.”
Logan was surprised by Rogue’s attack, and worried by the way she hugged her arms around herself. The odd mix of her offensive language and defensive posture set off alarm bells in his head.
“What are you talkin’ ‘bout, darlin’? You’re not a whore, no matter what anybody might say.” He was careful to keep his tone even, unchallenging. He spoke matter-of-factly, but not dismissively; obviously the name-calling during the interview and people’s perception of her had been bothering her all day, and he wasn’t about to disrespect her by making light of her concerns.
“But Ah am a whore!” Rogue shrieked, her voice breaking.
“No you’re not. I know you.”
“Ya’re not listenin’ to me! Ah’m tellin’ ya, Logan, they’re right. Ah am a whore.”
Another automatic denial was on his lips when the Wolverine cut in. Careful, he cautioned. She really believes it, so there’s no sense arguin’ back and forth. Find out why she thinks they were right, and then we’ll go from there.
“I am listenin’, darlin’, but it’s not makin’ much sense to me. Tell me why I should agree with them.”
Sudden tears poured down Rogue’s cheeks. “What would ya call a girl who traded sexual favors fer a ride in a warm truck an’ a bag o’ pretzels if not a whore?”
The softly spoken words were like a fist slamming into his stomach. They forced the air out of his lungs, and he was vaguely aware that his mouth must be working like a fish trying to breathe outside the water. His vision greyed at the edges as the Wolverine howled wordlessly in anguish.
“But…how….Your skin…” His first comment was horribly stupid and insensitive, he realized immediately. But he couldn’t think of any other way to respond. He shook his head firmly. “No. No, you’re not a whore, even if somethin’ like that did happen.”
Rogue looked at him in disbelief, a reckless light slowly coming into her eyes. She took a step forward and dropped her arms to her sides.
“Somethin’ like that did happen, Logan. An’ ya just don’t wanna believe it. Maybe Ah should prove it to ya?”
The singsong quality of Rogue’s voice sent a chill along the nape of his neck and he felt the hair on his arms lift in response. Logan shook his head again and took a step back. Rogue took another step forward, stalking him.
“Yes.” She nodded to herself. “Ah should prove it to ya. Ah never have been able to pay ya back fer what ya’ve done fer me. Ah’ll sleep with ya now if ya want me to, Logan, to pay ya back. An’ maybe…maybe Ah want to do it even if ya don’t expect anythin’ from me. That makes me a whore, doesn’t it?”
Before he could respond, Rogue launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down roughly and their teeth clashed together as she kissed him with more aggression than skill. Adjusting quickly, Rogue tilted her head and laved his lower lip briefly with her tongue before thrusting it into his mouth.
Logan stumbled backward a step and Rogue’s body fell full against him. He groaned quietly at the feel of her breasts against his chest and her thighs pressed to his, and without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her lower back to pull her closer as he began to return the kiss.
He was distracted by a wave of longing and hesitance from Wolverine, and his mind worked sluggishly to try to figure out what was causing his alter ego such distress.
What? he asked in irritation.
Don’t do it. Not like this.
What? He could hear the disbelief in his own thought. Why not?
Because if we do this, this will be the only time it’ll ever happen. Do you seriously think she’d stick around tomorrow mornin’? She isn’t a one-night tumble and you know it. She’s a keeper, worth somethin’ long-term and definitely worth repeat performances. So don’t go thinkin’ with your dick and fuckin’ it all up tonight. The Wolverine’s voice was a silky hiss of warning.
Logan was torn, knowing that Wolverine was right, but Rogue was steadily pushing him toward the bed, pulling his shirt loose from his jeans and running her gloved hands over the bare skin of his back. He found it nearly impossible to deny the demands of his body after having waited for Rogue for so long.
You’re gonna have to help me out here, bub, he thought desperately, ‘cause from where I’m standin’, it looks like tomorrow can just worry ‘bout itself.
With an angry snarl, Wolverine pushed himself to the forefront of Logan’s mind long enough to flood his consciousness with his enhanced senses. He heard the rustling of blankets from the room next door, smelled the bleach on the fluffy white towels in the adjoining bathroom. And he could suddenly taste the sharp tang of tears on his lips.
They’re hers, Wolverine hissed. Marie’s. You think she should be cryin’ because o’ this? Those aren’t tears o’ joy, jackass. She’s hurtin’, and you’re makin’ it worse.
The realization was as effective at dousing his amorous intentions as a bucket of ice water poured in his lap.
“Dammit,” he muttered, spinning Rogue around and pushing her onto the bed, letting his body follow her down. He braced his elbows on either side of her to protect her from his weight and kissed her again. Once more, he tasted her tears and moved his lips lower to scrape his teeth lightly over the point of her chin before drawing away. He looked at her from a mere six inches away, seeing the tears that continued to spill from the corners of her tightly clenched eyes, seeing the shimmering trail of those tears disappearing into the soft hair at her temples. Shifting his gaze lower, he saw that her lips were trembling and cursed himself that he hadn’t felt that while he was kissing her. Logan framed her face carefully with his hands and ran his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away her tears. At his back, Rogue hands fisted in his shirt in response.
“Darlin’, look at me,” he said softly.
Rogue shook her head, her eyes still tightly closed.
“Fine, don’t look at me then,” Logan continued with quiet intensity. “But you’re gonna listen to what I say. If this is what you really want, then I’m more than happy to oblige. But it’s not gonna be anythin’ angry or desperate, and it’s not gonna end in regrets with you gone in the mornin’. I wouldn’t use you that way, ‘cause that’s the way you treat a whore.” He paused as Rogue flinched. “And I would never let it be that way between us, darlin’. So regardless of what might’ve happened in the past, what you and whoever else might think of you, when you’re here with me you are not – and you never will be – a whore.”
Rogue’s breath hitched and her eyes cracked slowly open. She stared up at Logan, searching his eyes quietly. Whatever she saw there caused her hands to still and her body to slowly relax. Rogue drew in a long, shuddering breath and let it loose in one whispered word.
“Promise?”
Logan’s lips quirked upward in a slight smile. “Yeah, kid. I promise.”
Tears spilled once again along her temples and sobs rattled in her chest as she pulled her arms away from him and pressed the heels of her hands tight against her eyes. Logan said nothing more, just watched her and smoothed her hair back from her face. When her sobs began to slow, he leaned up slightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He made no attempt to move away from her, content to remain cradled between her slightly parted thighs, his stomach flush against hers and her breasts brushing lightly against his chest with each breath.
We still have to find out what happened to her, Wolverine reminded him quietly.
I know. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.
After a few more minutes, Rogue finally dropped her hands from her face. For an awkward moment, she didn’t know where to put them and then finally settled on Logan’s upper arms, wrapping her fingers around his triceps and leaving her thumbs to rest lightly on his biceps.
Rogue didn’t speak, preferring instead to study Logan’s face. She started at his chin and worked her way up, skirting around his eyes to study his temples, forehead, and his eyebrows. Only when she had nowhere else to look did she finally meet his eyes.
To Logan, she seemed suddenly skittish – shy and embarrassed. Her fingers began plucking nervously at his sleeves, but she didn’t drop her gaze from his.
“What’s the matter, Marie?” he asked quietly.
She took a deep breath and Logan felt a brief twinge of guilt for reacting to the feel of her breasts pressed more fully against him.
“They were right,” Rogue began. “Ah am a whore.” When Logan tensed, she was quick to reassure him. “Now don’t get all angry, sugar. Ah heard what ya said, an’ Ah believe ya meant it. An’ Ah trust ya enough to believe it too.”
“Tell me what happened, darlin’, ‘cause I’m havin’ a hard time believin’ you’re a whore.”
“Why would Ah lie ‘bout somethin’ like this, Logan?”
“I’m not sayin’ you’re lyin’, darlin’, just that I don’t understand. From what you’ve said, I assume somethin’ happened before we met up, but I don’t know what, exactly. And if it happened right before that…I would have been able to smell it,” Logan finished with an awkward shrug.
Rogue’s face instantly flooded with embarrassed color, and she considered him carefully for a few moments before nodding slightly.
“It wasn’t the trucker who brought me to Laughlin. It was the one before that.”
Logan couldn’t keep himself from tensing, and Rogue unconsciously set about soothing him, rubbing her hands lightly along his arms and shoulders until he calmed down a little.
“You didn’t have sex with him,” Logan said confidently. “I still would have been able to smell that, darlin’, and there was nothin’ when you came into the bar. Just the smell of cold air and diesel fumes. And strawberries.” Logan smiled. “Even after a couple days probably without washin’, your hair still smelled like strawberries.”
“No, ya’re right. Ah didn’t have s-sex with him.” Rogue blushed yet again when she stammered. “Ah…he wanted me too, b-but Ah told him Ah had a disease, an’ Ah thought that would be the end o’ it. Ah don’t know if he believed me or not, but after a while, he said a disease didn’t matter if Ah just used m-mah hands.”
Logan frowned. “Marie, I’m not callin’ you a liar, darlin’, but that still doesn’t match up. You either kept your gloves on, or you didn’t and he wore a condom. I didn’t smell anythin’ on your gloves and there wasn’t even a hint of latex on your hands.”
Rogue held his gaze steadily and swallowed audibly. “Ah wore mah gloves. That made him angry, but Ah told him it was either the gloves or a condom, an’ since he didn’t have any…” Rogue trailed off and shrugged. “It was disgusting,” she continued. “He kept trying to grab onto me, an’ Ah kept pullin’ away. He got angrier every time that happened, an’ when Ah thought he was about to hit me for it, Ah told him he c-could hold mah h-hair. He grabbed a handful of it and held it over his face, breathin’ it in Ah thought. But it worked, an’ he didn’t reach for me again.”
As Rogue continued talking, Logan’s anger increased, and he could feel Wolverine stirring violently. He wondered why he hadn’t been able to detect the man’s scent in Rogue’s hair, but he stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt her or pressure her in any way.
“He kept his eyes closed. Ah don’t know if Ah could have f-finished if he had been lookin’ at me, an’ Ah tried not to look at anythin’ really. Ah didn’t want to look at his face, or at what Ah was d-doin’. Ah tried closin’ mah eyes, but that was worse. Ah started imaginin’ what he – Ah started imaginin’ things that Ah didn’t like, so eventually Ah opened mah eyes an’ just stared at the gear shift the whole time. Ah didn’t know that he was finished until he yanked on mah hair, an’ that surprised me enough that Ah looked up at him. His m-mouth was hangin’ open, an’ he was all s-sweaty. An’ Ah didn’t think about it, but Ah looked down at mah hand. It was all over mah g-glove, Logan.”
There were tears standing in Rogue’s eyes, but she blinked them back furiously and cleared her throat. “Ah had been ridin’ with him for more than two hours before he made me…before he made me touch him. He had said he’d take me as close to Laughlin as he could, an’ that was still almost a hundred miles away, but Ah didn’t care. Ah just didn’t want to be anywhere near him. So Ah grabbed my bag in my clean hand an’ opened the door with the other one. Ah fell on my knees in the snow and tore off mah gloves ‘fore the…the m-mess could soak all the way through to mah skin. Ah was scrubbin’ at my hands with the snow when he leaned over the seat to close the door, an’ he called me a dirty little whore. As soon as Ah heard that, Ah knew it was true. Ah bent right over an’ threw up.” Rogue gave a short, hysterical laugh. “Ah threw up the pretzels Ah had whored myself for.”
Logan had to work at unclenching his jaw and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “Marie, it wasn’t your fault. He took advantage of you.”
“But Ah didn’t have to do it. Ah could’ve gotten out of the truck instead. But Ah was too worried about it gettin’ dark an’ how much colder it’d be. Ah ended up gettin’ out anyway, so why didn’t Ah just do it before? What was wrong with me, Logan?”
“You were scared, cold, and hungry, darlin’. I don’t know that I would have done any different if I were you.” They stared at each other wordlessly for a few long moments. “How long were you walkin’ before the guy who brought you to Laughlin picked you up?”
“Ah don’t know. Maybe an hour? Long enough fer it to get dark anyway.”
That makes sense then, Wolverine cut in. If she was walkin’ that long, the cold and the wind would’ve cleared the bastard’s scent out of her hair.
Yeah.
“Ah almost didn’t flag down the next driver. Ah thought ‘bout just lettin’ him drive right on by, but Ah couldn’t feel mah fingers or toes anymore, an’ mah face was startin’ to go numb. Ah had left the gloves on the side of the road an’ the only other pair Ah had was too thin to keep mah hands warm.” Rogue shrugged slightly, the motion sending tingling shards of pain through Logan’s forearms as the pressure from her shoulders resting on them was momentarily eased. It was a minor discomfort to him, though, and he was unwilling to move. “You saw the gloves,” Rogue continued. “You know they were too thin for that weather.”
“Yeah.”
“Ah suppose Ah shouldn’t entirely regret the way things happened.”
“Why the hell not? You have every right to be pissed off ‘bout what that bastard did to you.”
Rogue shrugged again. “‘Cause Ah might not have met ya if Ah had passed through Laughlin City a few hours earlier.”
Logan snorted. “Yeah, and Sabretooth wouldn’t have been able to catch up to you.”
Rogue frowned but didn’t say anything. After a moment she pushed against Logan’s shoulders.
“I didn’t make you angry, did I, darlin’?” he asked in confusion, shifting away only a bit.
“No, but ya are kinda heavy, sugar, an’ mah legs are startin’ to fall asleep.”
“Oh.” Logan immediately rolled to the side and allowed Rogue to stretch and realign her limbs. She grabbed a pillow and tucked it under her cheek as she moved onto her side, facing away from him. Logan cautiously slid one hand over her hip and settled down behind her, spooning her from shoulder to knee.
He hadn’t realized he was worried that she might reject him until she grabbed his hand on her hip and pulled it around her. With his hand resting low on her ribs and both of her arms folded over it, Logan felt more at peace than he could ever remember feeling. There was only one thing wrong. He slipped his hand out from under Rogue’s arms and started tugging at the fingers of one of her gloves.
“Take these off, darlin’. You know you don’t need to wear them around me.”
You just want to feel her skin against yours, even if it is just her hand on your arm.
Damn straight, Logan acknowledged Wolverine’s comment smugly. The only response he got was an amused huff before Wolverine withdrew to the back of his mind, leaving behind a feeling of contentment similar to Logan’s own.
He waited patiently as Rogue pulled off her gloves, and the moment her hands were bare, he wrapped his arms back around her. Rogue’s hands fluttered nervously over his skin before settling lightly onto his bare forearms. He doubted she was aware of the soft sigh that slipped past her barely parted lips or the way the tension drained out of her body at the contact. Sensing that Rogue had no desire to talk at the moment, Logan let his mind wander.
I don’t touch her often enough, he realized. I mean, I’ll put my arm around her, or nudge her arm or leg when we’re sittin’ next to each other. But when was the last time I made an effort to touch her without a layer of fabric between us? I don’t remember. Granted, my memory’s not that great, but if I can’t even begin to remember, it must have been a while ago…Marie must have been feelin’ lonely. Why didn’t she ever say anythin’? She knows I’d do anythin’ for her.
Idiot. Wolverine stirred sluggishly. Touch isn’t somethin’ anybody should ever have to ask for. Having said his piece, and feeling Logan’s quiet agreement, he settled back down.
“Logan?” He started a bit when Rogue’s quiet voice broke the relative silence of the room.
“Hmm?”
“Did ya mean what ya said? ‘Bout how if Ah had wanted to…that ya wouldn’t mind bein’ with me?”
Logan’s eyebrow went up in interest and he felt the Wolverine swarming fully to the front of his mind, his previous intentions of settling down for a relaxing nap abandoned.
I told you! he said triumphantly. Just had to put the idea in her mind.
“I meant it, darlin’.” Logan’s reply was a low, throaty rumble.
“Is it somethin’ ya’d do only ‘cause Ah want ya to?” Rogue’s voice was hesitant, uncertain.
“What are you askin’ me, Marie?” Logan lifted himself up on his right elbow and pushed at Rogue’s shoulder to get her to roll onto her back so he could see her face. “Listen up, kid. I wouldn’t sleep with you out of pity. What I meant is that no matter how much I might want it to happen, it never will unless it’s somethin’ that you want.”
Rogue slowly let out the breath she was holding and offered him a shy smile. “So ya wouldn’t mind too much if maybe Ah took ya up on it someday?”
Logan froze. Inside him, the Wolverine was making a curious noise, something midway between a growl and a purr, and it was all he could do not to mimic the noise himself. Seeing the sudden uneasiness on Rogue’s face, he realized that he was probably giving her a predatory look. Forcing himself to relax and letting his face soften, Logan returned her earlier smile.
“Marie, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Rogue blinked a few times and shifted her eyes away from his.
“Ah’m gonna go brush mah teeth,” she blurted and jumped up from the bed. She grabbed her bag and disappeared into the bathroom with a slam of the door.
Wolverine chuckled darkly. It’s going to be interesting. She’s likely to lead us on a hell of a chase, he warned. You ready for it?
Logan snorted. I’ll chase her wherever she wants for as long as she wants. Just as long as I catch her in the end. He heard the rattling of the shower curtain in the bathroom and the hiss of water spraying from the showerhead. It was followed a moment later by Rogue’s startled yelp.
Too cold this time, Wolverine noted in amusement.
Yup, Logan agreed, rolling onto his back and lacing his fingers behind his head. He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes as the sweet smell of strawberry shampoo seeped into the room.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I am so sorry for the wait! Life turned suddenly crazy on me, but things are starting to calm down a bit now.
malfactor: I'm honored that the desire to yell at me motivated you to create an account. ;)
killerkittens: I absolutely love your name...it's too cute!
Warning: This chapter is a bit dark.
malfactor: I'm honored that the desire to yell at me motivated you to create an account. ;)
killerkittens: I absolutely love your name...it's too cute!
Warning: This chapter is a bit dark.