Despite having said that they needed to talk, Rogue was uncharacteristically silent as they walked up to the teachers’ wing. Logan kept sneaking glances at her, but figured it wasn’t a good idea to pester her when she was frowning like she was. He knew, he mused ruefully, that the young woman had one hell of a temper. So Logan tactfully took his cue from Rogue and kept his mouth shut.
When they reached the door to her room, Rogue didn’t release his hand, and he took that to mean that he was supposed to follow her in. She still didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him actually, as she gestured for him to close the door behind them.
“Ah’m gonna take a shower,” Rogue said abruptly. “Ya go on into yer room and Ah’ll call ya when Ah’m done, sugar.”
Not the happiest voice I’ve heard her use, Logan thought, but she called me ‘sugar.’ So far so good. Out loud he said, “All right, darlin’. Let me know if you need anythin’.” Rogue nodded absently as he moved toward the door that joined their rooms. They had expected an argument from Xavier and especially Scott when they requested the adjoining rooms almost three years before, but surprisingly, the professor had only nodded while Scott clenched his jaw.
“Leave the door open,” she called softly after him as he stepped into his room.
Logan sat down on the edge of his bed and turned on the TV, more because he had nothing else to do than out of any desire to watch something. His sensitive ears picked up the rustling sound of Rogue removing her clothes, the turning of the shower taps, and finally the water as it came rushing through the pipes. He listened for the sliding of the shower curtain hooks on the shiny pewter rod as Rogue stepped into the spray, and he heard her gasp as the water hit her skin. She never tested the temperature before getting in. It was just one of her little idiosyncrasies that he had learned over the years living separated by a thin wall and a door that was open more often than not. It was, admittedly, a habit he wasn’t so fond of, but that was due to the number of times he had been wakened from a sound sleep first thing in the morning by Rogue shrieking when the water was too cold.
He wished he had been able to grab a beer from the kitchen on the way up. No reason I can’t go get one now, he figured, but what if Marie needs somethin’ and I’m not here? Restless now, Logan stood up and paced for a bit until he could feel the heat of the billowing steam escaping from Rogue’s bathroom. He scented the air and picked up the sweet strawberries and cream of her favorite shampoo. He stopped mid-step as an idea came to him.
“Girl shampoos her hair forever,” he muttered to himself. “Reckon I can sneak in real quick without her noticing.”
Steal a peek at her while you’re at it, Wolverine suggested lasciviously.
Logan groaned as his mind was flooded with an image of Marie’s naked body, steam swirling around her in a warm caress. Both hands were in her hair, her head tipped back and her back arched as water sluiced down her body, sliding over curves that he had never actually seen.
“Dammit!” he growled, the sudden heaviness in his groin slowing his steps. “Get it under control, you old lecher.” He searched for something that would distract him from the erotic image of Marie. Scooter in a thong, Scooter in a thong… he thought, keeping up the mantra so that his desire died down by the time he reached Rogue’s bathroom. He ducked inside quickly, careful not to look anywhere near the shower, and spotted the pile of discarded clothing. Logan could see the edge of a pale pink cuff sticking out from under a pair of faded jeans. He snagged it with one hand and pulled it toward him, starting up his mantra again as two scraps of peach colored lace tumbled into view. Clutching the bloody shirt tightly, Logan bolted from the bathroom before his mind conjured up a picture of Rogue in the undergarments. On his way through Rogue’s room, he stopped briefly to grab the laundry detergent from her closet floor.
A few minutes later, Logan was hunched over his bathroom sink scrubbing away at Rogue’s shirt. He wasn’t seeing much improvement so far, although he had had to drain the sink twice already when the water turned pink with blood. He grunted as his fingers turned numb, and he cursed the peculiarity of bloodstains that required washing in cold water.
He didn’t know much about laundry, but he did know that. Just one of the things Rogue had taught him. Don’t know why she bothers to tell me that stuff, though. She’s been washin’ both our clothes for years now. Seeing that the water needed to be changed yet again, Logan popped the plug and frowned at the swirling mess. Maybe it needs more soap, he thought, and plugging the sink once more, he poured in a capful of detergent and turned the cold tap on full blast. As he was looking down into the sink, the new froth of soap already turning pink, he noticed that he had blood on his own shirt. Must have gotten it on me when Marie hugged me.
Logan shrugged off his flannel and pulled his wife-beater over his head as he walked into his bedroom. He dropped the dirty shirts on the floor behind him and pulled clean ones from the laundry basket Marie had left at the foot of his bed that morning. He was stepping back through the bathroom door, shrugging one arm into a black and red flannel sleeve when he caught sight of the bubbles overflowing the sink.
“Shit!” he exclaimed as he leapt forward, one empty sleeve flapping behind him like a flag. He was busily scooping the suds back into the sink with both hands when Rogue found him.
She stood in the doorway, wrapped securely in a fuzzy bathrobe, a bemused expression on her face as she lazily toweled the ends of her hair dry.
“Why don’t ya turn off the water, sugar?” she drawled.
Logan froze. He turned to face her, his hands falling slack, and the sudsy water cascaded over the sink to splash against his stomach and legs. He was urged into action as the water soaked through the front of his jeans.
“Shee-it!” he yelped, and jumped back away from the sink that continued to overflow. “That’s cold,” he gasped as he did his best to pull the wet denim away from his skin.
Rogue dropped her towel and bent forward suddenly at the waist, full-bellied laughter spilling from her lips. She wrapped one arm around her ribs, pressing against the soreness of her recently reopened wound, and lifted her other arm up to point a shaky finger at Logan. She was still laughing, but Logan grumpily realized that she was trying to form words through her gasping breaths.
“Well shit,” he muttered. “Today’s just my day to be laughed at I guess.” He gave up on his jeans, resigned to the miserable feeling of wet denim clinging clammily to his lap, and stepped forward to turn off the cold water tap.
“Oh, L-Logan,” Rogue hiccupped, “the look on your face!” And she was off laughing crazily again. Logan ignored her for the time being, choosing instead to take his humiliation out on the sopping fabric in his sink. He bunched the shirt up roughly and twisted it with a vengeance, not realizing that the image of him up to his elbows in sudsy water was prolonging Rogue’s laughing fit. He began punching the wadded up fabric under the water, figuring that a good pounding might help him and the shirt. He kept at it until Rogue’s laughter faded.
“What on earth are ya doin’, sugar?” she gasped, still breathless. Logan didn’t answer. He pulled the plug on the sink, letting the bubbles slide down the drain before turning on the water once again. He left the drain open as he went back to punching and kneading the fabric until the water ran clear with no trace of color. “Logan?” Rogue questioned again. Soaking the shirt thoroughly one last time, Logan began knotting the ends in his fists. Wringing the fabric with a twist of his wrists, Logan finally turned to face Rogue. He lifted his hands and snapped the shirt out, sending drops of cold water spraying across the room. He was pleased, and rather impressed, to see that he had gotten all the blood out. Logan held it out to Rogue.
“Oh, Logan,” she breathed, her breath catching as she took the shirt from him. He was horrified to see tears gathering in her eyes.
“Oh hell no!” he roared. “Don’t you start cryin’ again. I’ve had enough tears the past couple days to last me the next ten lifetimes. And I don’t have time to sit with you until you stop; I’m cold and wet and in danger of chafing if I don’t get out of these damned jeans soon.”
Rogue’s eyes grew wide and she hugged her damp shirt to her chest. She pressed her lips tightly together, but a snicker slipped through nonetheless. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Rogue looked at him over the ridge of her knuckles.
When her face turned an alarming shade of red, Logan huffed, “Aw, hell. Go ahead.” He stomped past her into his room, her laughter following his every step. He made sure she didn’t see the smirk on his face as he pulled on yet another fresh set of shirts and grabbed a dry pair of jeans.
Laughin’s better than cryin’, he thought smugly.
* * *
Half an hour later, Logan was finally taking the first sip of the beer he had been craving. He and Rogue were lying on his bed; Logan was on his back propped against the headboard, his feet crossed at the ankle, and Rogue was sprawled on her stomach facing the TV, idly kicking her feet in their ridiculous bunny slippers. A gift from Jubilee, the slippers were more like clogs instead of the traditional style, so that Rogue’s feet were inserted under the bunnies’ tails. That combined with the startled, goggly-eyed look on the rabbits’ faces gave the impression that her feet were firmly stuck up their rear ends. Logan smirked as he gazed at the bunnies; he would never admit it, but he thoroughly enjoyed the humor of the slippers.
He sighed as Rogue dropped yet more crumbs on his bed. Since their lunch date hadn’t happened, she had opted for cold pizza, beer, and tortilla chips in his room, and whatever sports game or crime show was on TV. Seeing that the show they had been watching was ending, Logan picked up the remote and hit the mute button before tugging lightly on the leg of Rogue’s pajama pants. Rogue looked back over her shoulder at him with a frown, thinking that he was going to start harping on her pajamas again.
Logan held his hand up, palm out, in a placating gesture. “It’s not about the pajamas,” he said. When he had innocently asked what she was wearing pajamas for when it wasn’t even dinnertime yet, she had given him a thorough dressing-down where he was informed that after the day she had had, she could wear whatever she damn well pleased. Logan was inclined to agree. He dropped his hand back to her calf and rubbed the rounded muscle soothingly. “You said we needed to talk, darlin’,” he reminded her gently.
Rogue sighed heavily and flipped over onto her back. Logan accommodatingly moved his hand to her shin and kept rubbing.
“Throw me a pillow, sugar.”
When Logan tossed one to her, she shoved it under her head and then laced her fingers together over her stomach. As Logan’s eyes roved over Rogue’s face, he noticed that her bruises had darkened considerably even in the short span of time between Xavier’s office and now. She had given him a clinical rundown of the fight, and from what he could see, it looked like she might even end up with a couple of black eyes from the force of the one guy’s shoulder ramming into her chin and nose.
“I’ve been thinkin’, Logan.”
“‘Bout what?”
“Why Monique did what she did.” She raised an eyebrow at Logan’s sudden scowl.
Taking an angry swig of beer, Logan growled, “‘Cause she’s a mean bitch, darlin’.”
Rogue slowly shook her head, her hair rustling against the pillow case. “Ah don’t think so. Ah mean, Ah know she’s not a nice person,” Rogue qualified, “but Ah don’t think she did it just ‘cause she could. Ah was thinkin’ earlier that what she did was mah fault.”
Logan sat up sharply and tightened his hand on her shin. “Bullshit. None of what happened was your fault.”
“Well, not entirely at least.” When he looked like he was going to argue, Rogue shook her head again. “Now wait a minute, sugar. Just let me finish, ‘kay?” Logan nodded reluctantly and slumped back against the headboard. “When Ah thought about it, Ah realized that if it had been Todd who found out instead of Monique, he probably would have asked me about it instead of gettin’ a mob together, ya know? Just a feelin’ Ah have.” She waited for Logan’s nod of agreement before continuing. “And that’s partly ‘cause they’re different kinds of people, Ah guess, but Ah was also a hell of a lot nicer to Todd than Monique. Maybe if Ah hadn’t antagonized her so much, she wouldn’t have done what she did.”
“There’s no point in playin’ ‘what if’, darlin’,” Logan said.
“Ah know that. But at this point, Ah feel like Ah kinda have to. So here’s another one. What if Ah hadn’t been making any real effort to hide mah mutation? What if, when Monique asked me why Ah wear gloves at school all the time, Ah hadn’t lied to her?”
“She would have organized that little lynchin’ party earlier, that’s what,” he growled in response.
“But maybe not,” Rogue insisted stubbornly. “Sure, she woulda been shocked, but Ah doubt she would have done anythin’ if she had learned about mah mutation when we were face to face. Ah think it was the secrecy and the hidin’ it from her that really scared her, Logan.”
Logan sipped his beer pensively. Recognizing that he needed a moment, Rogue fell silent, carefully observing his face for any indication of his thoughts.
Although I hate to admit, she does have a point. Doesn’t change anythin’ though, and I doubt that the experience is gonna make Marie volunteer the fact that she’s a mutant to everybody she meets. Logan’s eyes widened slightly.
“What are you sayin’, darlin’?” he asked quietly, afraid that he already knew the answer.
“Ah’m sayin’ that Ah think we should do that interview, Logan.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Logan slashed his hand through the air in a cutting gesture. This was exactly what he had been afraid of.
“Why the hell not?” Rogue asked in shock. “Just yesterday ya were tellin’ me how much good it could do, and how much Ah might regret not doin’ it if the MRA was actually passed. How could ya change yer mind between yesterday and today?” She was yelling by the end of the sentence.
“You did the same thing!” Logan yelled back. “And I can change my mind because yesterday nobody was attackin’ you. There’s no way I’m gonna let you do an interview on national television so you can have thousands of people gunnin’ for you instead of just a dozen or so.”
“There’s no way ya’ll let me?” Rogue hissed dangerously. “Last time Ah checked, Ah didn’t need yer permission to do a damned thing!”
Yes she does, Wolverine growled suddenly. She’s ours, and it’s best you make her aware of that soon.
“Shut up!” Logan roared in irritation.
An outraged gasp came from the other end of the bed. “Excuse me?”
“Not you,” Logan groaned, “him.” He gestured to his head angrily. A look of understanding crossed Rogue’s face, but it did nothing to diminish her anger. “Look, darlin’,” he sighed. “After what happened today, I just think it’s too dangerous for you to do the interview. Monique and the people she scrounged up didn’t even know what your mutation is. I don’t think you’ll get a better reaction even if you offer up the information voluntarily. You can kill people with a touch, Marie. As mutants go, it doesn’t get much scarier than that,” Logan said gently, apologetically.
“Ah know that,” Rogue mumbled, staring intently at her hands. “But, Logan, ya know that Monique won’t keep quiet. She’ll tell everybody she can that Ah’m a mutant. Ah can’t go back to school; pretty soon, Ah pro’ly won’t be able to walk around the mall, or sit down in a restaurant for lunch. Because of that, Ah won’t be able to have a life here anymore.” When she lifted her gaze to Logan’s face, he could see the pain and resignation swimming in her warm brown eyes.
“You can still have a life here. You were plannin’ on teachin’ here anyway once you finished school, and you know Chuck would never make you leave.”
“Logan,” Rogue began slowly, as if she were explaining something to a small child, “that wouldn’t be much of a life. Ah wouldn’t be able to go out without worryin’ someone was gonna try somethin’, and Ah still have enough of ya in me that Ah’d go stir crazy in a matter o’ weeks if Ah was always cooped up in here.”
Logan grunted in agreement. “But it’d be the same if we did the interview. People all over the country would recognize us.”
“Ya said the professor told ya that the president was willin’ to offer protection fer whoever did the interview. Ah think we should find out what type o’ protection he was talkin’.”
Although it rankled that she wasn’t willing to accept his way of keeping her safe, Logan knew she had a point. “Fair enough. Let’s go talk to Chuck.”
* * *
“I can’t say I’m not pleased with your decision to further consider the interview,” Xavier said. “But are you sure, my dear, that you’re making the choice with a clear mind and it’s not just a reaction to the rather traumatic experience you had earlier today?”
“Well, o’ course that has somethin’ to do with it, professor. But Ah was thinkin’ about it yesterday too. It’s just that today has kinda forced mah hand, ya know?”
“You shouldn’t be forced to do anythin’,” Logan growled from the seat next to her.
“Oh hush,” she said waspishly. “It’s a lose-lose situation, remember?”
Logan scowled at having his words thrown back at him. “Fine,” he rumbled.
Xavier looked back and forth between them. “You are in agreement then?” he asked. They nodded. “Then I will contact the president. He would like to have the interview as soon as possible, of course, but he has agreed that the timeline should be worked out with your input. For that reason, he said that if the two of you agreed to do, or were even slightly interested in doing the interview, he would like to meet with you privately.”
“Do we have to?” Logan asked petulantly and with an utter lack of respect.
Rogue had a far more practical concern. “Oh Lord. What am Ah gonna wear?”
Logan scowled. “Well, I wouldn’t recommend the pajamas and bunny slippers, darlin’.”
The professor chuckled as he reached for the phone, wondering what the president would think of the pair.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Chapter 6: In which the plot moves forward slowly and Logan and Rogue come to a decision.
And if anybody knows where I can buy a pair of slippers like Rogue's, let me know. :)
And if anybody knows where I can buy a pair of slippers like Rogue's, let me know. :)
Chapter End Notes:
In the next chapter: Logan and Scott talk and the president meets Wolverine and Rogue.