He immediately inspected the skin between his fingers.
Rogue, however, kept tracing the marks and rambling a steady stream of questions. “Where did they come from? Do you remember how you got hurt? If we can figure out how long it’s been since you got them, we might have a better chance at figurin’ out what’s goin’ on, right? Do you think we should call Hank?”
“Calm down, darlin’. My healin’s not gone.”
“How can you say that?” Rogue shrieked. “You have scratches all over your back. How the hell did they get there anyway?”
Logan chuckled and turned to face her. “You did it, darlin’.”
“Ah did not!” she protested indignantly.
“Uh, yeah, darlin’, you did. Or don’t you remember clawin’ up my back last night?”
Rogue gasped and Logan noted with interest that her blush actually started at her belly and worked its way up.
“Ah…s-sorry,” she stammered. Shaking her head, she continued, “That’s not really the point, though, Logan. Why haven’t they healed?”
Logan shrugged, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar pulling of injured skin only partially healed. “Dunno. Hands are fine though.”
“Your hands?”
“Yeah. Remember, you said I popped my claws?”
“Oh!” Rogue grabbed his hands quickly and ran her fingers between his knuckles. “You’re right. Do you know what’s goin’ on?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope.”
“Aren’t you worried?”
He started to shrug again but stopped the movement of his shoulders before the skin on his back pulled again. It didn’t exactly hurt that much, but it was damned uncomfortable. “No,” he said instead.
“What does Wolverine think?” Rogue asked anxiously.
“He’s gone, darlin’.”
“W-what do you mean gone?” Strangely enough, the alarm in Rogue’s voice didn’t make Logan jealous. Rather, he was happy that she liked his feral side enough to want him to stick around.
“Well, not gone exactly. He’s still here, but it’s different now. He isn’t separate from me anymore. We’re not thinkin’ separately anymore, and I can’t hear his voice.”
“What happened?”
Logan snorted when an unexpected answer came to mind. “Remember that girly movie you like so much and made me watch over and over with you when you had the flu last year?”
“What? What are you talkin’ ‘bout, Logan?”
“You know, the one you thought I’d like since one of the characters was a sports agent. It’s like that cheesy line I guess, darlin’. Seems you completed me.”
“How’d Ah do that?” Rogue asked, flabbergasted.
“Dunno. But ever since last night in the kitchen we’ve been just one…personality I guess you’d say.”
Cocking her head to the side in thought, Rogue looked him over carefully. “You feel any different?”
“Not really. ‘Cept for my back and the quiet upstairs, everythin’s the way it should be.”
“I think we should still talk to Hank, Logan.”
“Okay,” he agreed easily, wanting to finish the conversation quickly and move on to other things.
“’Okay?’” Rogue echoed suspiciously. “You never agree to consultin’ Hank on medical stuff so quickly. What’s goin’ on?” She crossed her arms over her chest, intending on presenting a stern figure, but her eyes widened in shock when she felt her bare breasts against her wrists. “Logan!” she squawked. “Why didn’t you tell me Ah was uncovered?”
Watching in amusement as she scrambled for the sheet, Logan arched an eyebrow and asked, “Now why would I do that, darlin’?”
* * *
“It really would be more helpful to actually see the injury in question, Logan,” Hank said yet again. “We’re hampered enough given that we’re doing this via a webcam.”
Logan arched an eyebrow in Rogue’s direction, leaving the decision up to her. Her embarrassment over having scratched Logan in the first place had left her fidgety and silent throughout the video conference with Hank and the professor. Logan had said Xavier’s presence wasn’t necessary, but the old man had insisted that it was of utmost importance that he be kept apprised of any changes related to Logan’s or Rogue’s mutations.
Rogue sighed. “Go ahead and show ’em, sugar. Most important thing here is to find out what’s goin’ on.”
“‘Kay, long as you’re sure.” Logan grunted as he pulled his shirt off, the skin on his back stretching uncomfortably. He tossed his shirt to Rogue and straddled one of the kitchen chairs with his back facing the computer.
Hank leaned forward and squinted. “Well, at least it appears to be a minor injury.” He raised a paw as if to trace over the marks on Logan’s back. “Logan? Are those claw marks? You didn’t say anything about a fight.”
“Are you and Rogue safe, Logan?” Xavier interjected. “If somebody has found you, you need to leave immediately.”
Logan cleared his throat, cutting a glace at Rogue. “No, no fight. We’re fine.”
“Then what happened? Are you saying the marks just appeared?” Hank’s tone was strangely accepting of that possibility.
Another glance at Rogue and a half-shrug was Logan’s only response.
Sighing again, Rogue admitted, “No, Ah did it.”
“Rogue!” Xavier reprimanded sharply. “I’m disappointed in you, young lady. I know you’re still having trouble controlling some of your new abilities, but if there is a chance that you can do permanent harm to Logan, I really must insist that you stop whatever training exercises you’ve been doing for the time being.”
“Um, Charles, my friend,” Hank rumbled tentatively, “I do believe the scratches on Logan’s back were gained during a mutually pursued um…exercise.”
“Yes, of course, Hank. You’re right. Logan should assume some of the responsibility as well.”
Logan remained silent and watched with interest as Rogue’s face turned from pink to dull red.
“No, Charles,” Hank tried feebly to explain, “I mean that it happened when they were…um, as they engaged in…oh, damn it, Charles, just read my mind, would you?”
“Ah scratched him when we were havin’ sex, all right?” Rogue yelled angrily. She let out a gasp and then a low moan as she buried her face in her hands.
Logan chuckled and reached out to tug playfully on a section of white hair. Rogue swatted his hand away irritably.
There was only silence from the speakers behind them.
Clearing his throat, Logan asked, “So, Hank. Any thoughts?”
Hank also cleared his throat, the sound echoed a scant second later by the professor. “Possibly,” he began cautiously. “I…may I ask a few questions of a delicate nature?”
“Up to you, darlin’,” Logan murmured. Rogue didn’t look up at him; she merely flicked her fingers in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. “Ask away, furball.”
“Yes, well,” Hank coughed delicately, “are these the only marks you bear from the…um, encounter?”
“Yeah.”
“And Rogue? Is her healing similarly hampered, or is there no basis for comparison.”
Seeing that Rogue wasn’t going to answer, Logan replied for her, “Her abilities are working only sporadically right now. Seems when she’s angry or upset, they bail on her.”
“I see.” Logan could hear the frown in Hank’s voice.
“Hey, wait a second, furball.” Logan leaned forward and caught Rogue’s chin on his finger and lifted her face up from her hands. He ran the fingers of his other hand over her forehead lightly. “No bruisin’ here, darlin’.” Rogue’s hand lifted to trace the area over her brow where she had smashed her forehead against Logan’s the night before.
Sweeping her hair aside quickly and tilting her head to expose her neck, she asked, “Logan? What about here?”
“What is that?” Hank asked urgently. Logan could tell from the sound of Hank’s chair creaking that the large mutant had leaned forward for a better view. “Is that a h-” he cut off the question as Logan let loose a warning growl. Hank cleared his throat hastily. “Yes, well. I think I may have a rudimentary understanding of what’s happening.”
Rogue hastily concealed the mark on her neck with her hair again. Feeling a strange urge to growl as the evidence of his possession of her was hidden, Logan snapped impatiently, “Yeah? And?”
More throat clearing commenced before Hank continued. “This is just a theory, mind you, and the case studies available on the matter have never included a subject with a healing factor, but it seems that an integral part of feral mutations is marking one’s mate.”
“Hank,” Charles said, “as interesting as that is, Rogue’s injury is not the one in question.”
“Oh!” Hank exclaimed. “I see that I perhaps approached the explanation from the wrong direction. Let me try again. Logan possesses a feral mutation, a rather strong one at that, as well as a healing factor. We can judge by Rogue’s neck that he has essentially claimed her as his mate by placing a visible mark on her that will warn others away. Would you say that is a fair assessment, Logan?”
Logan loosed a throaty snarl. “Damn straight.”
“Hmm, yes, moving on then. Another part of a feral mutation is the need to be claimed in return by one’s mate. I believe that in Logan’s case, his body recognizes the scratches on his back as ones caused by his mate and therefore does not perceive them as an injury per se.”
“Wait,” Rogue asked, horrified, “are you sayin’ that any time I scratch him up durin’ sex, he isn’t gonna heal?”
“No, nothing like that, my dear. He will heal, just along a more normal timeline. And it may not be every time. Have you ever scratched him before?”
“No,” Rogue confessed, her cheeks reddening, “last night was the first time.”
“And forgive me for asking, but have you had difficulty healing any of the marks Logan has placed on you before?”
Rogue squeaked in renewed embarrassment.
“She means last night was the first time we were together,” Logan explained.
Another round of throat clearing was the immediate answer. With one final ahem, Hank continued, “Then it may be that the initial encounter is the only one that will result in such a situation. Only time will tell for certain.”
* * *
Hastily ending the video conference, Hank and Charles regarded each other in embarrassed silence.
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Chapter End Notes:
Going to try to finish Gauntlet (although this monster may demand a sequel - we'll see) and then focus on Last Chance. Have several other ideas in the works that I can't wait to start on, but I figure I owe it to you all to finish these two first. Thoughts?