Marie stood under the nearly scalding spray of the shower until it began to chill; bath time, for her, was a decadent pleasure. It was the only time all of her was allowed to breathe and feel anything other than the stifling confines of her clothes.
Today, she took particular care to dry her pale skin with the fluffiest, white towel and then smooth a mildly spicy lotion over her exposed flesh.
When they arrived at the school Logan walked her to the door to her shared room, and then, without saying a single word he left her to get ready for the coming funeral. Frowning she picked up her under things; slowly stepping into the silk panties she watching her progress in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.
Meticulously, she slipped her bra straps over her shoulder, adjusting the cups giving her breasts the support and structure needed to define her cleavage. She would wear the black blouse with the v-neck, but she add the longest of her scarves as a reminder to everyone that they could look but not touch.
Sitting on the small bench in front of the vanity she carefully rolled her black stockings up her legs; eyeing them critically she wished she could find the kind that were held up by garters, but on second though decided it wouldn’t matter anyway. Standing again she pulled the blouse on and then wiggled into the ankle length black skirt; it had a kick pleat in back for ease of movement.
Really, the effect was almost like something from the 40’s; it was a good thing retro was in.
Lightly applying make up to disguise her sleepless night she smoothed her hair into a straight fall of dark tresses and positioned her silver-white locks on either side of her face. Lastly, Rogue zipped on her chunky boots and donned her dark cloak raising the hood to frame her face.
“Rogue,” Kitty’s irritated voice cut through the door. “I need to get in there too you know!”
Checking her appearance in the mirror one last time in the mirror on the door Marie slipped to the back of her mind and with a solemn expression Rogue stepped forward.
Opening the door she didn’t spare a glance for the other girl as she left the room and made her way to the community room. There was no kiss, no lies or ice skating on a frozen fountain between them; just the untouchable one. Rogue.
It was easier than he thought it would be, getting into the Professor’s office, and even simpler to find the file marked, ‘Rogue’.
It wasn’t even in a locked drawer, testament to the old mutant’s perceived power. The file wasn’t as thick as the one Hank had given him, but it was just as thorough. It outlined Marie’s history prior to the manifestation of her mutation and went on to detail her life post activation.
The last page of the file sent a chill down his spine and made the feral side of him rear its enraged head. There in clinical terms and signed by both Jean Grey and Charles Xavier was a highly detailed genetic analysis of Rogues mutation along with a note in red.
It simply read, ‘Because of her mutation’s strength ‘the girl’ should be closely monitored to ensure adequate X-Protocols remained in place in the event that Termination became necessary.’
Shaking with barely concealed rage Logan closed the file and then double checked the drawer in to be sure he had every scrap of paper with Rogue’s name on it; that done he opened the drawer that corresponded with his name and flipped through the files until he found a second file that appeared to be identical to the one Hank had given him the night before. He didn’t even have to think about it, Logan added it to the pile on top of the gleaming mahogany desk, file was coming with him.
The search for the X-Protocols was unfruitful and it pissed him off. He would need to access the mansion’s mainframe, but that would have to wait; the funeral was probably nearing a close and he’d need to make an appearance. Taking the stack of files he’d gathered he left the office and quickly stowed them in his duffle.
Pulling out a cigar he clamped it between his teeth and silently exited into the garden where the entire school gathered to mourn the lost Professor. When Logan’s eyes found Rogue, because that was who she was at that moment, he felt an overwhelming sadness. She’d expected these people to help her and the truly fucked up truth was that he’d expected the same damned thing.
As if sensing him Rogue turned and caught his gaze; nodding slightly he tried to reassure her, but she could tell he hadn’t liked what he found. Their gaze never faltered and when the last tearful good bye was uttered from the podium Rogue stood up and made her way to him.
Logan placed a hand at the small of her back and pushed her toward the door, “go pack your things, Darlin’ and if anyone asks you and me are headed for parts south for a few weeks. I have someone I want to have a chat with and then we can be on our way.”
“Of course,” she agreed and then moved to comply. Unaccountably, Logan felt bone deep terror at the thought of her alone in the mansion. Growling he caught her arm stopping her in her tracks, “Logan,” she asked sounding confused.
“Never mind what I said,” he ground out. “I’ll go with you to pack and then we’ll go find Dr. McCoy.” Rogue didn’t question his words; Logan’s paranoiac frame of mind had penetrated her own mood and she found that she was happy he would be there to watch her back.
Packing didn’t take as long as she’d expected; really she didn’t have much besides clothing and a few books. So, it was that she was following Logan as he ‘hunted’ the Beast. It was hardly surprising that they found him in the underground lab, but his appearance was quite a shock.
It was readily apparent that the bottle of scotch delivered with Logan’s file the night before was not the end of the good doctor’s supply. Hank’s normally immaculately groomed visage was disheveled and he reeked of alcohol.
“Ah, dear friends, I was expecting you.” The man’s speech though emotive sounded perfectly sober and Logan was perversely pleased that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get a good drunk on.
“Ya know why we’re here,” Rogue asked, feeling slightly put out that of the three people in the room only she was clueless as to the reason for the pow-wow.
“Of course,” Hank nodded as he stood swaying slightly.
Logan re-evaluated the man’s sobriety, but then decided it would be to Hank’s advantage to appear incapacitated by drink.
“Well,” Logan growled flexing his fingers as though trying to alleviate an itch. “The file didn’t mention anything other than researching ‘possible mutually beneficial solutions’, but I’d put my money on the fact it didn’t stay just research for long.”
“Just so,” Hank acknowledged as he moved to the far wall and placed a furred hand on the smooth metallic surface. He was greeted by a feminine voice, ‘Welcome, Doctor.’
Hank made a sweeping gesture with his arm, “After you.”
Logan frowned, but clasped Marie’s hand in his more tightly. Together, Rogue and Logan entered a lab that made the one on the other side of the wall look like the dark ages.
Hank McCoy was by no means a fool and would not make the same mistake others had in regard to Logan. He’d known Xavier took for granted Logan’s true intellect; the man had lived for more than a century and a half and he may have had his memories stolen from him, but some knowledge gained through life experience was inherent.
Hank had tried to explain this to Xavier, on more than one occasion, the extent to which Wolverine’s mutation would go to protect him, but Charles’ ambivalence had blinded him to Logan’s true gifts.
Pushing the pain of loss and the feeling of having played too large a role in events that were, essentially none of his business, Hank immediately retrieved the two items he’d been ordered to keep hidden.
It felt strange, almost anarchical, to be disregarding orders but then Charles was dead now and Hank had never truly agreed with the other man’s arbitrary handling of the mutants in his charge.
Gesturing for the two mutants to step closer Hank placed first one item and then the other onto the stainless steel counter.
Both seemed to study the incongruent items, but it was Rogue who asked, “What are they?”
“These,” Hank fingered the glass cylinder filled with a pulsing blue material; his right hand caressed the glass. He knew what was contained within the glass was the best and most dangerous option, but Logan was exceedingly angry as it was and Hank would not give him further cause to distrust the X-Men. Smiling, if a bit sadly, he nudged the metal device toward her as he spoke, “are the two ways I have found to control your mutation.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Silent declarations and startling discoveries bring to light a whole new side of the dearly departed Professor Xavier.