Yer fuckin’ this up.
If you can’t get yer shit together, I’m gonna take over and fix things. I’ve had enough of this bullshit.
Logan only grunted in response, seeing as his attempts to shut down the insults and demands of his alter ego had so far been unsuccessful.
He turned his back on the stairs, fists clenched at his sides, and made his way toward the garage and the promise of open air via the borrowed Maserati currently sitting in the garage. He grabbed his leather jacket as he slammed the door to the garage behind him and then stood in the stale silence of the garage, breathing as he tried to restrain himself.
Don’t needta keep runnin’…
Logan answered the voice in his head with a growl.
Not anymore. She’s ready. An’ if ya wait any longer, yer gonna lose her for good.
Logan growled audibly this time and was startled to hear a faint tone of pain in the noise echoing off the cement walls of the garage.
Clenching the keys in his fist tightly for a moment, he sighed in exasperation as he tossed both them and his jacket on the workbench, turning toward the garage side door, instead of the gleaming promise of escape emanating from the Maserati.
He started walking through the overly formal neighborhood toward the park that ran along the eastern edge of their street. He’d only ever passed by in a blur as he escaped the confines of their shared living space, desperate to put himself at a distance from Rogue.
But now, just maybe, his plan hadn’t been such a good one.
A snort, then, ya think?
“Shut up! I’m tryin’ to sort this shit out.”
An odd look from a woman approaching him on the sidewalk with her dog met him as he continued on his walk and he muttered a quick, “Phone call” as cover, pointing to a non-existent bluetooth earpiece. She didn’t seem overly convinced of his sanity however, but skirted a wide path around as he continued past her.
Forcing his thoughts back to Rogue, Logan thought over his behavior toward her since they’d been forced together on this mission. He frowned as he thought over his comments, his actions.
“Fuck,” he muttered, “No wonder she’s pissed at me.”
He reached the park and strode over to an empty bench that overlooked an expansive pond. It was after dinner time, and the park was relatively deserted. Taking in a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, he began to turn over her last few words in his mind.
I know our backstory just fine…At least up until a point.
She was good and pissed. That much was obvious. What did she mean by that last part though?
Come on. Yer not stupid.
Brow furrowed as he tried to ignore the amused tone in Wolverine’s comment, he realized that maybe he had been treatin’ Rogue different. Ever since that Cajun rat came into her life. He just didn’t like the way that red-eyed bastard was always hangin’ around. Always tryin’ to flirt with her. Show off for her. He remembered the blaze of anger that had run through him when she’d suggested Remy accompany her on the mission, and hadn’t been able to help the snide remarks that had crossed his lips. He just didn’t want her thinkin’ about getting’ any closer to Gumbo.
No shit. It’s ‘cause ya want her ta get closer to you.
Logan had no comment, no retort available.
He ran his hand through his hair and repeated the expletive so loudly that it echoed across back to him across the water.
He didn’t want it to come to this. Didn’t want to face what he’d clearly known deep down for a long time.
He wanted Rogue. No. He fucking needed her.
His actions over the last year came slamming back across his mind in a torrent of guilt. The way he’d acted when Rogue asked him what he thought of Remy. How he shrugged her off when she’d gotten back from a group date with Jubilee. His dismissive comments when she’d asked him about if he was staying at the mansion. Her explosion of anger at him when he tried to keep a respectful distance after Carol. And further back, his slow withdrawal from her life as she left the mansion for college, and grew into the woman she was now. A woman he felt like he hardly knew.
An’ whose fault is that?
Logan took the criticism that time. Confident that he deserved worse than what Wolverine was dishing out.
Fuckin’ hell. Don’t be such a mopey idiot. Go talk to her for fuck’s sake. No. On second thought. No talkin’. Just touchin’.
Logan rolled his eyes at that, knowing that if he tried to touch Rogue now, she’d use that super-human strength of hers to rip out his still beating heart, adamantium covered ribcage or no.
“Talk,” he growled quietly to himself. “Gotta talk to her. Explain why…”
And what the fuck was he gonna say to her? He had no excuse, not one that wasn’t flimsy as shit. Didn’t wanna hurt ya, doesn’t mean shit when he already hurt her.
He left the bench by the pond and turned back to the house, determined to make things right.
For the first time in a long time, Logan felt a lightness as he got close to the house. He’d be able to explain, make things right. See if she wanted to give this thing that was between them a real shot.
But when he stepped inside the house, any hope he’d been flirting with, vanished. His ears strained for the slightest hint of her; a breath, the delicate sound of her tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. But there was nothing. The house was empty. Jaw clenched, he made for the basement when he caught sight of a note taped to the bannister.
Went out. Don’t wait up. -L
It took him a second to comprehend the “L” and then he remembered that she was supposed to be Lily. And he was supposed to be Jack. Happily married for three years…
“Yeah, right,” he snorted as he thundered down in search of whiskey.
The sound of a set of keys clanging loudly on the travertine floor above his head had Logan jerking awake. Claws itched for release between his knuckles as he strained his senses toward the sound of the intrusion.
A hushed, “Shhhhiiiiiit!” and the clumsy sound of fingers trying to pick up the jangling metal had him exhaling in annoyance as he felt the muscles of his forearms relax.
It was Rogue.
“Motherfucker!” along with the sound of a thigh crashing into the kitchen table echoed in his ears.
And she was drunk.
Logan couldn’t tell if he was amused or pissed. Amused because it sounded like she was havin’ a helluva time keepin’ her shit together. Pissed because she’d gone off and put herself and their mission at risk. He knew what she was like when she drank. Couldn’t keep that tongue of hers in check.
Like that’s a problem. I bet she can use that tongue in all kinds-
Okay. He could tell now. He was pissed.
He tore up the stairs, not bothering to dampen the thundering of his boot soles against the basement steps. And his temper was not improved by the quiet, “Goddammit,” and the sound of a heavy sigh.
He wrenched the door open and came nearly nose to nose with her. She was dressed in a lacy black top and tight dark jeans, and was several inches taller than her normal self thanks to the knee high black leather boots she was sporting. Her hair had fallen partially out of the high pony tail she was sporting and she looked both sexy, and drunk as hell. And his temper ratcheted up several degrees as he took a deep breath and began processing the variety of scents coming off her.
“Yer drunk,” he said curtly as he tried to reign in his temper.
She snorted. “Duh.”
“Jesus. You drink the whole damn bottle of Jack?”
“So. I can get drung if I wan’.”
“You were at a bar,” Logan said in between clenched teeth.
“Where else am I gonna get that mush whiskey?”
“You weren’t alone.”
“There’s lotsa people in bars.”
“You were with him.”
“There were guys there,” she said as she avoided his eyes. She was swaying on the spot, unable to stand upright without steadying herself against the kitchen table.
“Don’t play games with me, Rogue. You were with Remy.”
“So you fuckin’ endangered the mission!” He stepped forward, unsure of exactly what he was intending to do, but she interrupted him before he could act.
“Fuck the mission!” And she tried to shove him away from her, losing her footing as she stepped forward and sliding to the kitchen floor.
Logan curled his fists at his sides as she fought off his attempts to help her stand back up.
“Jesus fuck, Rogue. Tell me ya didn’t drive home like this.”
“Sn’t home,” she muttered.
“Goddammit, tell me-”
“’Course I didn’t. I’m not stupid.”
“Coulda fooled me,” he bit out without thinking.
“Ya know what, Logan?” she asked him, anger blazing in her eyes, “I’m not the stupid one here.”
“That right?” he fired back at her, seeming unable to help himself.
“Yeah! Ya know how I know?” Rogue questioned as she pointed one finger into his chest, shoving him back with her careless strength.
Wolverine’s low growl of warning rang in his mind but Logan was past heeding the cautionary sound.
“How.” The word was barely intelligible as he fought against the instincts raging inside him.
“’Cause we’d be fuckin’ great together.”
The world stopped. His heart stopped. The air left his lungs as he tried to grasp what she’d just said.
“Yep. Fuckin’ great. I said it,” she slurred back at him taking in his reaction. “But you’re too stupid to see it! And ya just shove me away. Think I’m some kid who always needs lookin’ after. But I don’t! Don’t need you.”
The silence stretched between them and Logan felt his anger returning. Fuck that, he thought. Like fuck she doesn’t need me.
Rogue moved to slide past him but he threw out an arm to stop her. She glared at him in warning, but didn’t move further.
“Let me go, Logan.”
The potential double meaning of those words sent him into a spiral of conflicting emotions.
“No,” he growled, unconcerned at the amount of animal in his voice. “I won’t.”
He slowly backed her up against the kitchen counter, forcing himself close against her front.
He took in the change in her scent, her anger losing ground to a slow and heady arousal. He inhaled sharply at the dark honey scent coming off from her. He appraised her slowly, taking a long lengthy look at her. Fuck, she was gorgeous. Those long legs showcased by her dark jeans, and the black lace shirt that was apparently…
“Goddammit,” he groaned.
The thought of LeBeau seeing her like this had him clenching his fists again, determined to keep the claws sheathed.
He met her eyes again and saw her taking in his reaction. Oh yeah, she was aroused. Fuck. And so was he.
He leaned in to inhale the exposed skin at her neck and was rewarded with the feeling of her legs shake against his.
“Is this what you want?” he asked quietly as he nipped one ear lobe with his teeth.
“Holy fuck,” she muttered as she grasped for a handhold on the kitchen counter.
The taste of her against his tongue was doing something to his insides. Something good. He liked it. And fuck, he needed more.
He licked a path from her jawline to her collar bone, inhaling the scent of her skin as he pressed himself against her, desperate to feel more of her. Fire was burning beneath his skin and he couldn’t believe he’d denied himself what he’d wanted for so long.
Logan reached up with one hand to trace the outline of her nipples through her shirt and she groaned in pleasure as she threw back her head. Christ, she was so responsive. He moved in close to taste her mouth and he let out a low animal sound as she met him. Her lips were parted and kissed her slowly. Slower than he thought was possible. Wanting to savor every delicious fucking sensation of her lips, her tongue, and fuck, her teeth.
He growled then as he grabbed her hips and hoisted her onto the counter, setting her down a little more roughly than he’d intended to.
She let out another moan and he pressed himself in between her open thighs, needing to get closer to her, before he realized she was trying to shove him away.
Confusion was clouding his mind as he tried to force himself back from her, the harsh feeling of rejection settling over him.
But the feeling of desolation didn’t last long.
Rogue had leaned over the kitchen sink and puked her guts up.