Rogue sat down on a barstool, leaning on the kitchen counter, weight resting on her elbows and forearms as she watched Logan fill a bowl with ice from the freezer. He set the bowl down in front of her, next to her empty highball glass. She’d drained the scotch-laced water and few pathetic ice cubes from the glass earlier.
Rogue watched Logan go to the liquor cabinet and pull out her bottle of scotch (she was determined to drain it tonight, it might as well be hers, she reasoned) and a second bottle of what looked like Canadian bourbon. She liked watching him. His body was all sorts of amazing, and he moved with a sense of carelessness that Rogue easily saw through: he was effortlessly in control of his movements. And he was handsome, which had been impossible to notice when she looked through Fury’s memories. Fury didn’t ever look at Logan as a creature who could be described with words like: handsome, attractive or damned sexy––all of which, incidentally, were on Rogue’s mind when she looked Logan over.
His voice’s effect on her was something unexpected, too. He had a deep voice, rather rough, and Rogue liked it, in a way that Fury would have never dreamt of considering. Sometimes, Rogue reflected, experience via other people’s memories did not due the experiences in question any real justice.
Rogue let the thoughts go, familiar as she was with indulging in appreciation of someone without ever planning to so much as dream about them. It was something she’d picked up over the years: keeping control and keeping her distance. She thanked Logan as he put a few ice cubes in her glass and filled it with scotch. Then he sat next to her on his own bar stool, and poured himself some bourbon in his own highball glass.
“The snoops have mysteriously vanished,” Logan observed.
“Maybe Summers is good for somethin’ now an’ then.”
Logan gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest.
It caused an odd, light feeling in Rogue’s stomach. She felt warmer that she had a moment ago. If not for her restraint, she might have been blushing. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Is it good, then? The super-hero gig?”
Logan looked thoughtful. “Keeps me busy, allows me to kick ass and beat up annoying assholes for a living, and the food around here’s pretty good.” He examined Rogue’s face. “You considering a career change?”
“Big change: from criminal hacker and anti-government vigilante to a team-member hacker-vigilante that the government has agreed to quietly ignore?”
“Actually, the Secretary of Mutant Affairs might want to hire you.”
A flicker of shock crossed Rogue’s features, then she looked thoughtful, “The blue guy?”
“Hank. Yeah. He’s one of ours.”
Rogue nodded. “Yeah, Ah remember now. He’s...not usually...”
“I was surprised, too. His team was trying to work out how you’d gotten me the files you did. He’s the only one who connected you to the videos from Stryker’s labs.”
Rogue’s face was a bit mask-like, as she seemed torn between suspicion, pride and anger-at-Stryker. “Yeah. Ah was pretty proud a’ that.” She looked at Logan. “You didn’t think to go to your resident hacker? Not that she could find anything, either, but still...”
Logan looked confused.
Rogue smiled. “Oh, she’s good an’ quiet about it, then. Ah’ve been trackin’ her for a while. She’s a protegee` of one the folks who sent me a message askin’ where Ah’d gone, and if Ah’d help ‘em teach others through this website she was designin’.” Rogue sipped her scotch. “The protegee` saw the one article Ah did for the site and tracked me by it, askin’ some good questions. Ah tracked her in return, even if Ah never got the chance to answer her. Her name’s Kitty.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised. “You’re shittin’ me.”
Rogue’s smile widened. “She did look like the mousy type, not anybody’s usual suspect. She’s got potential. She leaves trails, still, and still hasn’t got the hang of a lotta Linux stuff, but she’s not bad.”
Logan shook his head. “She walks through walls.”
Rogue nodded. “Fury’s met her.”
“Can’t believe she’s been keepin’ that quiet,” Logan growled.
Rogue bit her lip for a moment at the growl, but once more pushed her less professional thoughts aside. “It’s the morals around here. She’s not been up to much in the past six months. She just needs some encouragement. Ah’ll talk to her.”
Logan shook his head. “You’re insane.”
“Did it take you this long to notice?” Rogue asked, sounding mock-aghast.
“I knew it when you sent the first package,” Logan muttered. “Out of your mind.”
“Nah. The world outside my mind is saner, trust me. In here, it’s scary.”
Logan looked into her eyes for a long moment, then shook his head. “Not to me.”
“Not yet. Everyone’s scared of it eventually,” Rogue murmured into her glass. She took a long pull of scotch.
Logan watched, and waited until she met his gaze again. “Not me.”
Rogue raised an eyebrow, looking a little incredulous.
Logan’s gaze lowered to her hands, the scars on her palm. “Let me fix those. The scars.”
Rogue’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Borrow my mutation.”
Rogue’s eyes opened wide and she could find nothing to say when she opened her mouth to tell him no. Instead she said, “Logan?” sounding a little unnerved.
Logan slowly reached over and took her free hand. She didn’t flinch, but she set down her scotch and her heartbeat got faster. He traced the scars on her palm with his fingers. “If you don’t want me in your head...”
“Uhm. Awkward as this may sound, Ah doubt Ah’d mind. Ah like you.”
“Like Fury?”
Rogue was having trouble forming words. Part of her mind wanted to panic because he was touching her and she didn’t want to hurt him, another part was busy noticing how warm his hands were, and another was telling her this is insane this is insane this is insane. “Uhm. You’re more like me than he is, really,” she found herself staying. “Even if there are things about ya Ah don’t understand.”
“Like what?” He looked up from her palm, his thumb still in the middle of the scar across its middle. “You’re one of those types who look through people.”
“So’re you,” Rogue murmured.
“Now I am. It used to be a lot damned harder.”
“Before Ah interfered?”
“Yeah. See? You get it.”
“It comes with the territory.” Rogue held his gaze. “How...how do you stay still? How do you stay in one place like this?” Her brow furrowed in sincere confusion. “Ah’d planned on stopping here, after Ah’d found what Ah could. Ah was on my way here when Erik caught me.” She shook her head. “But the stoppin’ is the part Ah can’t figure out how Ah’m gonna stand. The idea of wakin’ up in the same place too many times...”She shook her head solemnly.
Logan looked down at her palm again, looking thoughtful, then a little frustrated as he found he couldn’t explain. “Hard to say. Impossible, actually.” He let go of her hand, but held out his own, palm-up. “Here. Take it.”
Rogue shot him a look that might’ve been sharp and hurt if not for the worry in it. “Ah don’t want to hurt you, Logan.”
“Let me. Just once. Call it a gift.”
Rogue looked at the floor. “You’re gonna fall off the barstool.”
Logan thought about this. “Really?”
“Ya may go into a coma.”
“I heal-”
“Logan. Just get a chair so ya don’t fall anywhere,” Rogue commanded.
Logan smirked faintly, but went and got a wooden chair with arms on it that would keep him from dropping off one side of it. Rogue was on her feet now, controlling her breathing and nervously adjusting the soft cuffs of her sleeves. Logan sat down and held up his hand again, palm-up, the universal sign of both offering and begging.
Rogue walked up and gave a ragged sigh. “And you think Ah’m insane.” She shook her head. “Logan...”
“Please, Marie,” he said quietly.
She froze and stared at him as if from over a huge distance. Part of her insisted quite forcefully that she ask him to never call her that. Rogue shook her head and gave another ragged sigh. “You’re gonna regret this, Sugah.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured, watching her hand cover his. He waited.
Rogue’s eyes fell shut, a determined look on her face. Slowly, she opened the metaphorical floodgates. Slowly, slowly, trying to control what she took, trying to see if she could try not to hurt him.
Logan felt it: first a numbing buzz like the feeling after an electric shock, then a jolt that he felt like the displacement of his body from the kitchen into outer space, and his vision darkened and it hurt like hell, but he laced his fingers through Rogue’s and held on.
“Let go, Logan, Ah cain’t turn it off that fast!”
He could faintly hear it, but only tightened his grip, even as his muscles felt weaker and weaker suddenly, and his head seemed full of static. Then the world snapped into place and for a few long moments Logan didn’t notice, being almost fully unconscious, but his eyes fell open when Rogue tried to pull away again. “I’m awake. Was it enough?”
“Are you a masochist?”
“You tell me. Does that answer actually make sense? I’m not sure what all you just said. My ears are ringin’.” He loosened his grip on her hand but only so he could run his thumb across her palm. The scars were fading as he felt them. “That’s kinda cool.”
“Are you alright?” Rogue asked, looking sincerely worried. Her free hand cupped his face, tilting his chin up so he looked into her eyes. Her hands were soft, which was kind of funny considering what Logan had seen of what they could do to steel.
“I’m fine. Kinda dizzy. A bit tired.” He had enough sense to stop himself before he added, you have really pretty lips, because he knew that would make him sound like Summers with a concussion (and hadn’t that been a fun mission?) and Summers was a pansy.
Rogue shook her head.
“You got me up there?”
“Yeah. Can’t tell ya much, now. It takes me a while to process people...Logan why-”
“I saw the hand-grips, up on the damned statue. The ones that gave you the damned scars. Hadn’t been that pissed off at somebody in a long time. Didn’t think bucket-head had it in him to make me that angry. The burning smell was pretty intense. Had to cut off the handcuffs to smell the dried blood on ‘em, and dammit, it was yours. And you’d stopped writing.”
Rogue’s brow smoothed a little. “Fury sent me a letter, you know. The day after Ah got outta the compound. Said to write to you so you could, quote, ‘get some goddamned sleep, already.’” She smiled a little.
Logan snorted, amused, but then he suddenly looked pissed off. “That––dammit, you were right there and he didn’t say a word about you when I told him I was looking––and he knew!” Logan popped the claws, wondering why he wasn’t standing up.
Rogue held him down, one hand on his chest. “Easy, tiger. What could he’ve said? How pissed off were you? How mighta you reacted to him, what, confessin’ he was my source? You’d’ve figured that out quick, wouldn’t ya? Said he met me a year ago. When did the letters start?” She shook her head. “Calm down. You’re disoriented. And if anything, shouldn’t ya be pissed that Ah didn’t come over an’ say ‘hi’ or soemthin’, if you’re that mad at Fury. Come on.”
Logan’s breathing slowed a little, but he didn’t retract the claws, and was a little stunned by how completely unperturbed she was. “Fine. Fine. You were both prolonging my misery.”
Rogue nodded, then finally looked at one of his clawed hands. “Yeah. Sorry.” She surprised him by gently taking his wrist and holding his hand up the same way he’d held hers, her finger touching the blades just like he’d touched her scars.
Logan suppressed an inexplicable shiver. “Careful, darlin’.”
“Ah’ve got invulnerability from Carol. They can’t cut me.” She pressed the tip of one finger to the tip of a blade to illustrate, then ran it down the length of the blade. It would’ve sliced open anyone or anything else on earth.
The sight made Logan extremely nervous, because of how much he really didn’t want to make her bleed, and a little turned on despite himself. “Oh. Huh.”
“They hurt, comin’ out, don’t they?” she murmured.
“Every time.” Slowly, he retracted them.
Rogue watched, interested, but clearly aware that the movement caused him pain. “Suddenly, Ah have an urge t’ kill an incarcerated madman named Stryker.”
“Welcome to my life,” Logan teased, but then asked curiously, “Wait, is it my urge or yours?”
Rogue thought about it for a moment. “Yes.”
Logan smirked a little. “I think we’ll get along just fine, you an’ I.”
Rogue smiled back a little. “Yeah. Ah think so, too.”
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