Logan sat in his room. It was late, but sleep was far away. Soon he would begin teaching classes at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. He couldn't believe it. He was going to be a teacher. If someone had told him, even a month ago, that the fierce Wolverine was going to be teaching self-defense to a bunch of mutie high schoolers, he'd have laughed and called them insane.
But there it was. Of course, he was only doing it over the summer, to pay for the damage he'd done to Chuck's pool table. It could have been worse. Summers had tried to convince Chuck that he should have to sit in on classes with the students. When the professor had offered him a chance to teach, he'd jumped all over it, volunteering to give the kids lessons in sex education. Even Chuck had gone a little green at that one. But it was worth the look on ol' One-Eye's face.
They finally agreed that he would teach self-defense to some of the older students who'd be going to college in the fall.
Then Chuck tried to recruit him -- gave him the spiel about mutants and humankind living together in harmony. It sounded great in theory, but it was also crazy. He'd put his foot down -- he was not joining the X-Men. He might do a little consulting, if something came up that required his unique ...talents, or if he got really, really bored, but he was not taking orders from Scooter. And he was certainly not strapping on that ridiculous leather outfit again. Though Jean and Ororo had both looked hot. He wondered what Marie would look like with tight black leather hugging her long, lithe body.
He got up abruptly. He needed a beer. He wasn't going to spend another night acting like a schoolboy, fantasizing about the girl down the hall. He knew he could have her -- she'd broken up with her boyfriend -- but he wanted to take it slow, make it special. You're getting soft in your old age, he thought ruefully. He wanted it to be good for her, better than a quick tumble on the pool table -- though he wouldn't mind doing that again, later, after he paid the damn thing off. Until then, it would just be a reminder of how he'd lost control and almost lost the most important thing in his life.
He was on his way back to his room when he heard it. It sounded like someone whimpering in pain -- it sounded like Marie whimpering in pain.
He was at her door in a flash, just in time to feel the full effect of her piercing scream on his extra-sensitive ears. He ignored the pain and was at her bedside instantly, trying to still her writhing body and wake her up. He reached into his back pocket for his gloves, but they weren't there. Kitty was standing at the other side of the bed, wide-eyed. She wordlessly handed him a pair of gloves she kept around for these situations. There was no way they were going to fit him, he thought, growling in frustration. He was going to have to take his chances and hope he could avoid her skin.
Jean was at the door. She also wore gloves. "Logan, move," she hissed. He shifted, kneeling on the floor to make room for her, but kept hold of Marie's legs through the sheet.
"Rogue, wake up," the redhead said softly, stroking the sleeping girl's hair, trying to calm her down.
"No, no, no!" the girl shouted, kicking wildly, trying to remove herself from Logan's grasp, from whatever was holding her down in the nightmare. He let her go. He knew that dream better than he knew his own face.
Moving to the head of the bed, he said, "Marie, wake up."
"Logan?" she mumbled, eyes fluttering open. "That you, sugar?" Later she would remember that and blush, but it was what she called him in her head.
"Yeah, darlin'" he replied, the endearment falling easily from his lips. Jean and Kitty exchanged glances. Kitty shrugged.
"I almost forgot how bad your nightmares are," Rogue whispered.
An unfamiliar sensation he identified as guilt stabbed through him. She'd had two years to deal with whatever nightmares he'd saddled her with, and then, with the briefest caress, he'd let them all loose in her head again.
"It's all right now, Marie," he said, rising from the floor. He jerked his head at Jean. "Jeannie, ya mind?" She moved and he replaced her, cradling the shivering girl against his chest. He murmured comforting words into her ear, the way he would have gentled a skittish horse. He managed to unbutton his shirt, and quickly slipped it off and wrapped it around her, though he knew it wasn't the temperature causing her to shake. Luckily, he hadn't changed for bed yet, and wore a t-shirt underneath.
"Go back to bed, Red." He looked at Kitty, couldn't remember her name, and said, "You, too, kid. I got it under control."
"If you need me..." Jean offered.
"I know where you are," he replied.
Kitty looked less sure about having what was, for all intents and purposes, a strange man spending the night in the room with them. But if it would keep Rogue's nightmares from coming back, she supposed it was okay.
Rogue had had the nightmares -- flashing lights, being tied down underwater, while men with strange instruments did incredibly painful things to her body, to the delight of other men who laughed and drank champagne -- ever since she'd touched Logan that first time, the night he'd accidentally impaled her on his claws.
Sometimes she dreamt she was in a boxcar, crammed in with hundreds of other people, smelling of fear and death. And then her parents were being taken away, taken away to die while she screamed, but could do nothing. The guards were holding her back. Those were Erik's nightmares. She'd tried to expunge the sympathy for him that the nightmares evoked, tried to think of him as Magneto. She really didn't want to feel sorry for, or be on a first name basis with, someone who'd tried to kill her, even if he was in her head; but she knew that the horrors he had witnessed had marked him, and her, irrevocably.
Other times it was some freaky combination of the two. But always she woke up sweating and screaming, unable to sleep for the rest of the night. Maybe now, with Logan by her side, she could make it through.
He settled himself on the bed next to her, on top of the covers, she noticed, though her pajamas covered her from neck to ankles, and she wore socks, as well. "Thank god, Scott fixed the air conditioning," she said softly, "otherwise we'd be in trouble." She found herself telling him about the early heat wave they'd had last month, and how she'd suffered through it since the AC was on the fritz. She wasn't sure if she was just thinking or if she was speaking out loud until he grunted in response. She couldn't wait until everyone else went away to college and she'd get her own room. She was going to go to college, too, but she would commute and stay at the mansion. Would he be coming to graduation? She rambled on drowsily, curled up on his chest, until she fell back to sleep.
He held her as if she were the most precious thing on earth, the tightness in his chest not simply fear, he knew. He loved her and he was going to do his damnedest to make the nightmares go away.
The alarm went off, and Rogue grumbled. In contrast to her usual dreams, the one she'd been having was wonderful. Logan was holding her in his arms and doing all the things he done to her on the pool table the other day, except in the dream, he was able to touch her skin without getting hurt. She shifted slightly, and heard an odd thumping sound. "What the--"
"Watch it, Marie," Logan's voice rumbled. Her head was resting on his t-shirt-clad chest. If she moved the wrong way, her face would be in contact with his bare arm. She was listening to his heart beat.
The events of the night before came rushing back. Oh, God, she thought, burying her now burning face into his chest. She inhaled his intoxicating scent. I wish I could wake up like this every morning.
"Get up, Rogue. History final today," Kitty said as she swung her legs out of bed. Logan grunted appreciatively, before he realized that he probably shouldn't be checking out yet another seventeen-year-old. He wondered if these tendencies had gotten him in trouble earlier on in life. Kitty blushed at his regard, and hurried to the closet. "Do you mind?"
"Marie." He shifted to a sitting position.
"I don't wanna get up, Logan," she muttered, clutching at his shirt.
He grinned. "I'm not one to kick ya outta bed, darlin', but if you wanna graduate, you gotta take your history final." He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head, and got up. "I'll see you later." And he left.
"Yeah, yeah," she said, getting out of bed herself. The thought of the history final wiped away all the giddy fantasies she'd engaged in while nestled in Logan's arms. Storm's tests were hard and she hadn't done much studying, what with all the emotional upheaval going on in her life in the past week.
It had been less than a week since Logan's return, and yet everything was different. She and Bobby had broken up, and she and Logan were playing a game -- no, it wasn't a game. It was deadly serious, and it would shatter her if she lost him again. She loved him, and she figured he loved her back. It was just a matter of straightening out all the side issues, from the age difference, to the disapproval of the other adults at the school, to her mutation.
She showered, and then she and Kitty got ready for class quietly. She pulled Logan's denim shirt over a tank top and slid on short gloves. Maybe the shirt would bring her luck, because she sure as shootin' needed some to pass this test.
I hate the Sunday night willies, Rogue thought, fidgeting. She was at her desk, trying to study. The last final was tomorrow -- the last final of her high school career. High school hadn't exactly turned out how she'd expected, but she decided she wouldn't change a thing -- except maybe the part where Erik (Magneto, she corrected herself) tried to kill her. Though even that had an upside -- it had brought her closer to Logan.
She wished she was going to see Alaska this summer. She still clung to that dream and was determined that someday she would camp out in Denali, under the northern lights. She was pretty sure she could convince Logan to take her -- it wouldn't take much to get him to pack his bags and move on, she thought, absently playing with the dogtags dangling around her neck.
"Turn the light off and go to bed, Rogue," Kitty moaned. "Some of us studied before the last minute, and would like to get some sleep."
"Well, I can't sleep, so I may as well study." She exaggerated her usual drawl.
"Is that man in your head acting up again?" Kitty asked.
Rogue smiled wistfully. "I don't know. I just know I can't sleep." She came to a decision. "Leave the nightlight on. I'm going to get a drink, then I'll come to bed."
In the privacy of their room, she wore only a tank top and leggings, so she put on Logan's shirt and her gloves, just in case anyone else was wandering the halls. It was late -- after midnight -- but you never knew. Sliding her feet into her little black slippers, she went to the kitchen.
She got herself a bottle of water and headed back upstairs. Instead of returning to her room, where she knew she'd toss and turn futilely before sleeping fitfully for a couple of hours, until the alarm went off, she went straight to Logan's room, drawn like a moth to the flame. She hoped he was awake, that he was sharing in her restlessness, but if he was asleep, she'd be content to watch him. She'd learned her lesson -- hadn't they all? -- about waking him. Even though she believed that he wouldn't hurt her again, there was still a risk involved. She was willing to take it in order to steal some precious time with him.
She glided down the dark hallway. No light shone under his door, but she knew it wasn't locked. She slipped in silently. The window was wide open, despite the heat and the fact that the mansion was air-conditioned. It figured he'd want fresh instead of recycled air. The curtains were still. Moonlight flooded the room, diffused by the sheer cotton.
He looked almost peaceful. He was bare to the waist; one arm flung out above his head, the sheet twisted over his lower half. She suddenly wondered if he slept in the nude, and she was glad the darkness hid her burning cheeks, even though he wasn't awake to see.
She studied the stark, hard lines of his face, thrown into sharp relief by the silvery light. He was beautiful. There was enough of him still active in her to revel in the knowledge that he was hers -- she knew it deep in her bones. Her eyes moved lower, enjoying the view of his well-muscled chest and abdomen. He was well-known for walking around without a shirt on. But seeing him that way in bed gave her a thrill. She thought about things she might do to him, if he were to wake up.
Which seemed likely. He started mumbling, and she knew he was having a nightmare -- probably the same one that had haunted her the other night. She leaned in closer to the bed, as close as she dared, remembering the first time she'd come to his room at night. He started thrashing wildly.
"Logan," she said, slightly louder than a whisper, "wake up." A hand like an iron band grabbed at her arm, pulling her down onto the bed with him. Her first reaction was to fight, to get away, because he could get hurt, but a split second later she went limp. Maybe he'd be able to tell, even in his sleep, that it was her, and she meant him no harm.
Logan, meanwhile, dreamt of the men who had tortured him and laughed. He tried to pick up their scents, so he'd be able to identify them if he ever met them again, but the water and the space suits thwarted him. He did catch a scent, though, one that was not normally present in his nightmares.
Rogue watched as his thrashing stilled, and his nostrils flared. She thanked the stars she'd worn his shirt. Maybe by smelling like him, she'd be safe.
"Wake up," she said again. "It's okay. I'm here."
She suddenly found herself clasped against his chest, his arm imprisoning her. She squirmed, but couldn't get free. She gasped. "Logan!"
His eyes snapped open, glazed with sleep. "What -- what's happening?" he asked hoarsely.
"You were having' a nightmare," she murmured, shifting slightly when she felt... something against her thigh. She flushed.
"What are you doin' in here, Marie?"
"I, I, I was watching you sleep," she stuttered, embarrassed to have been caught. It suddenly seemed presumptuous, like she'd invaded his privacy, and she knew he was an intensely private man.
His face softened. He knew the same urge -- had walked past her room on a couple of occasions, but he hadn't gone in for a number of reasons, fear of getting caught not least among them.
"Oh, Marie," he groaned as she shifted again, trying to stay close but get comfortable. She didn't know what she was doing to him. He was torn -- he wanted her here with him, but he was also afraid he wouldn't be able to fend off the temptation to do something monumentally stupid, like roll her over and bury himself in her sweet warmth, even if it killed him.
"Logan, you held me when I had nightmares. Let me do the same for you," she whispered, her mouth suddenly very close to his ear, her hair falling like a dark curtain around them, making the real world seem very far away.
He could smell himself on her, and it spoke to the animal in him -- she was marked, she was his, and he would have her. Somehow. He was creative and had a lot of experience. He just had to stay in control. His hands settled naturally on her hips. She ran her gloved hands down his chest and he shuddered. Stay in control, he told himself.
She moved again, this time straddling him, and then pulled the sheet up so it covered his upper body. She laid her head down, her ear over his heart. They stayed like that for an eternal moment. He could feel her breath and warmth and knew that his nightmare was likely to be the last thing on his mind in a couple of minutes.
She kissed the spot over his heart, and then slid her tongue across his nipple. His breath caught. "Marie," he warned. Her hands moved to cover his, pin them in place on her hips as she kissed her way down his body.
"Let me do this for you," she murmured. "I want to do this for you." The ache inside her was growing, and she thought, If I can make him feel like this, the nightmares will go away. At least for tonight.
"Let me touch you," he replied raggedly. She shook her head and smiled sadly. She began rolling her hips rhythmically against him, and his body answered instinctively. "Please," he groaned. Again, the slight smile as she shook her head.
She took one hand away from his and brought the sheet up to cover his mouth. Then she kissed him, her breath and tongue moistening the thin cotton. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever felt. He let her do it her way, since his way had led to trouble. That was his last coherent thought.
She felt again the sharp ache in her belly, and lower, and knew that this time, they were going to finish what they'd started. She had to finish, or she was going to die. Or maybe she would die afterward. She wasn't sure. She just knew that something had to happen to relieve the almost unbearable tension that radiated through her, starting at the point where their bodies met through the sheet. She clenched his hands hard as she moved with him, and knew she'd have bruises in the morning, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything except making the man beneath her explode with pleasure, to make him feel the way he made her feel.
Their breath mingled in short, ragged pants as they moved together toward release. She leaned forward, her breasts pressed against his chest, her mouth all over him through the sheet. They murmured meaningless syllables that might have been something like, "Please" or "Yes" or, at the end, as he came, "Oh, god, Marie."
She wasn't quite there yet, he realized, so he freed a hand and moved it to that sensitive place between her legs, continuing with his fingers the rhythm they'd created, through the thin cotton of her leggings and panties, until she shuddered and moaned his name and collapsed against him. Arms encircling him, she kissed him again and murmured, "I love you, Logan."
And he froze. He wanted to say it back to her. He did. But he couldn't get the words out past the lump in his throat. She slid off him, curled up on top of the sheet at his side, shifting things a little to avoid the damp spot.
She smiled that sad smile again. As if she knew what he was thinking. And said, "It's okay. I know." She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
He knew he was a bastard. He'd just had the most amazing sex of his life with this young woman, whom he loved, and he couldn't even say the words to her.
He was definitely a bastard.
Logan woke early, curled protectively around Marie, the sheet between them. He lay on his side, propped up on an elbow, watching her sleep. He had to suck it up and tell her how he felt. He thought that if any other man had done to her what he'd done last night, he'd kill the prick. His knuckles itched just thinking about it. Of course, the idea of any other man touching -- and being touched by -- his Marie was enough to make him crazy. He moved quietly and quickly, getting his gloves from the night table and putting them on.
He ran a finger over the curve of her cheek, traced her lower lip with his thumb.
She stirred. "Logan?"
"Hey," he said, staring down into her eyes.
"Hey, yourself," she replied, smiling.
She thought she should probably be embarrassed -- after all, she'd practically thrown herself at him last night. But it felt so right lying there in his arms that she didn't.
"Are you all right?" he asked, a wealth of meanings hidden in the simple question.
"Yeah," she said slowly, a big grin spreading across her face. "More than all right."
He sighed. She had no regrets, even if he did. She looked at him as if he'd hung the moon, and he wanted desperately to prove that he was worth it. He wanted to tell her how he felt, and wanted her to realize that she should be angry with him for his lack of response when she'd told him she loved him. He figured she wasn't angry because she already knew how he felt, but that didn't excuse his behavior, and he felt like she should tear into him for it. Any other woman would. Of course, that might be why he was in love with Marie, and not any other woman.
She was not thinking such serious thoughts. She had found the spot on his chest where he was ticklish and was attacking mercilessly. Her grin was infectious, and he found his mood lightened considerably. "Marie," he growled, trying to keep a straight face.
"You're just a big ol' teddy bear, Logan, you know that?" she giggled. "I can't believe I was ever afraid of you."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah. Is that the best you can do?" she challenged.
He growled again, playfully. He was very good at it. And then he attacked, his gloved hands moving over her ribs until she was breathless from laughing.
The alarm went off in the room Rogue shared with Kitty. Kitty sleepily turned it off and said, "Get up, Roguey -- bio final today."
But Rogue wasn't in her bed. In fact, it looked like Rogue's bed hadn't been slept in at all.
Kitty was levelheaded and methodical. Rogue had left the room in the middle of the night to get a drink. She hadn't been able to sleep. She hadn't come back. Where would she be?
She didn't even really have to think about it. No doubt she was in Logan's room. She just hoped nothing bad had happened. And that no one else found out. She was sure, even though Jean and everyone had seemed understanding, that sleeping with one of the students was going to get Logan into a hell of a lot of trouble.
She padded down the hall to his room, hoping that's where the other girl was, and hoping no one else saw her. She got to Logan's door and thought, Safe. Raising her hand to knock softly, she was startled when someone said, "Kitty? What are you doing?"
It was Ororo, steaming mug in hand.
Kitty almost had a heart attack. "Um, I um," she stuttered, trying to think of a good explanation for standing outside Logan's room wearing nothing but the t- shirt she'd slept in.
"I wish I could stay here forever," Rogue said when her giggling subsided and she could talk again.
He got quiet, thinking of exactly how to say what he felt. "Kid," he began. She wrinkled her nose at the term, but he ignored it. "Right now, you think everything's perfect, just because you and I, because we," he indicated the bed where they lay, unexpectedly, charmingly abashed, "but it ain't so. I mean, we are, I do. I mean, last night was amazing for me, too. But let's face it, there's gonna be trouble. I want you to know that I--" He stopped.
He could hear someone in the hallway outside his room. Two someones, actually. Damn. Things are going to get complicated even quicker than I expected. "Hold that thought," he said, getting up and going to the door. Rogue contented herself with watching him walk away from her, wearing nothing but boxers.
The door swung open. Rogue caught a glimpse of Kitty and Storm before she hid under the covers, belatedly realizing that the situation looked highly questionable.
Kitty was beet red. Logan had a spectacular body. She felt a minor twinge of jealousy. But she wanted to protect Rogue, so she shot a look at the older woman and plunged ahead. "Uh, hi, Logan. I was wondering if, uh, I could be included in your self-defense class."
Logan raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Ororo looked skeptical. She'd already seen Rogue dive under the covers. "And you felt the need to discuss this at," she looked at her watch, "six am? In your pajamas?"
Kitty opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She sucked at lying. She should have gotten Jubilee up. Jubilee could talk her way out of anything.
Rogue decided that she might as well save Kitty, even if her own ass was in trouble. She popped her head out from beneath the sheet and said, "She was just trying to protect me, Ms. Munroe."
"I gathered that," Storm replied dryly. "And I am not so foolish that I don't know what you are doing here, Rogue." She glanced from the girl to Logan. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
All things considered, Logan thought she was handling it pretty well. He tried to think of some reasonable way to tell her to butt out, but Rogue was taking matters into her own hands.
"It's none of your business," she snapped. "Logan was having' a nightmare and I was comforting him, just like he did for me the other night." She got out of bed and adjusted her clothing. "Kitty, are you gonna shower first?"
"Rogue, we must talk about this," Storm said. "I can't imagine what the Professor will have to say," she looked again at Logan, who still stood tensely at the door, "about one of the teachers -- even a temporary one -- seducing a student." He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He and Chuck had already been over this once. It wasn't likely the old man's position would have changed. He was the adult. He should have been able to keep control, he told himself, instead of letting Marie do what she wanted because it was what he had wanted, too.
"He didn't seduce me, I seduced him," Rogue insisted hotly. "It's all my fault. My god, you people act like I'm an idiot who can't make her own decisions. I must have been seduced, it's all big, bad Logan's fault. Well, it ain't so." She walked over to where he was standing and took his hand in hers. "I love him, and he loves me," she didn't stumble over it, though she did glance up at him questioningly, "and that's really not the professor's business. Or yours." And she shut the door in Storm's face.
"Rogue, think about what you are doing," Storm pleaded through the door. "I do not want to see anyone get hurt."
Rogue leaned against the door. "No one will get hurt if y'all just stay out of it," she said, loud enough for the women in the hallway to hear. "I'm sorry, Ms. Munroe, but you know it's true. Kitty, I'll see you in Bio." She heard Storm's sigh.
"Be careful," Kitty said, and walked away.
"Will you at least discuss it with the Professor, Rogue?" Storm asked.
"I don't see any reason to discuss it with anyone, Ms. Munroe. But you go right ahead and tattle if you feel the need."
Storm sighed again. Standing in the hallway and shouting through a closed door was not the best way to have this conversation, she knew. "Perhaps we can talk about this later, Rogue, when you're less emotional. Logan, please try to make her see reason." With that, she continued on her way.
"Am I being unreasonable, Logan?" Rogue asked.
"That wasn't the smartest thing you ever did, Marie," Logan admitted.
"If they kick us out, we can go on the road," she said bravely. "I know you didn't plan on staying here forever."
"It ain't you they're gonna be gettin' rid of, kid. I told you there would be trouble."
"So you regret last night? You're telling me 'I told you so'?" she fired back, hurt.
He sighed. "No, I could never regret last night. But think about what you're doing. You want to go to college, you want to live here while you do it--"
"I don't care about that if I'm with you."
"Think, Marie. Think what you're sayin'. We'll have plenty of time to be together. You need to get an education, do something with your life."
"Now you're gonna play 'daddy', Logan? I don't need a daddy. I need you." She was breathing rapidly, trying to get a handle on her emotions. "I have to go take my Bio final. I don't want to say anything I'm gonna regret later, Logan. But I love you, and they can't change that, no matter what they do." She slammed out of the room.
"And they say I'm the crazy emotional one," he muttered.
Logan showered and dressed, planning what he was going to say to Chuck. He figured he couldn't beat the news from reaching him, but he could at least be ready to defend Marie. She was young and in love, and he was old enough to know better. He had no excuse, except that he loved her and wanted to give her what little happiness he could. He didn't think that would fly, but he figured the old man would at least know he was sincere.
He went down to Chuck's office. ~Come in, Logan,~ the professor said before he even had a chance to knock. He went in and sat down awkwardly. He felt like he'd been called to the principal's office, and he was suddenly sympathetic to all the kids who'd sat in this seat before.
"I just want to say it wasn't Marie's fault," he began abruptly.
"I don't want to know what happened. That is between you and Rogue. I do wish, however, that you two would stop stirring up the students and the teachers." Xavier's voice was wry. He seemed almost amused by the situation. "You're not getting out of teaching that self-defense class, Logan. I don't care what you do."
"I--"
"You made an error in judgment, perhaps, but that's all. And it's not like we all haven't done the same in your situation."
"My situation?" He was a little lost. The last time they'd discussed this, Xavier had told him to try and think before he acted, and he'd seemed annoyed. Now he was acting like Dear Abby.
"Being in love, Logan. It happens to all of us, and it's best not to resist too much. Being in love is a wonderful thing, and can enrich your life, and Rogue's.
"But please, wait until she graduates from high school before pursuing any sort of serious relationship. Graduation is only a week away. Surely you can restrain yourselves for a week." If it had been anyone else, Logan would have sworn Chuck was grinning at him. "She's very young, Logan," Xavier continued, "and very vulnerable. You may need to remind yourself of that at times."
"Do you think I don't know it?" Logan responded, surprised at the other man's acceptance. "Do you think I'm not as disappointed in myself as you are?" He paused, then said, "So you don't wanna run me outta here on a rail?"
Xavier held up a hand. "Not at all. Nothing I could say to you would be more effective than the beating you've already given yourself. I don't think you've made the wisest decisions in the pursuit of your goals, but far be it from me to tell another man how to court the woman he loves.
"I have no plans to play the outraged parent. One, it wouldn't be in Rogue's best interest, and two, I would lose both of you. Far better if we all behave like reasonable people. This will all blow over, and I would be surprised if, after a few months, anybody questioned your relationship." His eyes went far away for a moment, and then he said, "Come in."
The door opened and Jean, Scott and Ororo stood in the doorway. Scott looked as if he wanted to say something to Logan, and only Jean's hand on his arm, and a look from Xavier, stopped him.
"We'll continue this conversation later, Logan."
Logan grunted in response and brushed past the three in the doorway. It had gone far better than he'd hoped. Scott didn't move out of the way, glaring from behind his glasses, and Logan banged into him, hard. "Just try me," he growled at the younger man.
"Anytime."
"Gentlemen," Xavier barked. The two men stared at each other for a moment longer, and then Logan walked away.
Jean and Ororo sat down and Scott wandered over to the window. "You're not going to let him stick around, are you?" Scott asked. Jean shot him a warning glance.
"Despite your feelings to the contrary, Scott, Logan can be a valuable member of the team, and a contributor to this school."
"He's a good guy in a fight," Scott conceded grudgingly, "but can you trust him around the students? The young, female students?"
"He's not a pedophile," Jean interjected. "This is a very specific set of circumstances, Scott." She sighed. "Not that I didn't hope he'd be smarter than to sleep with her so soon."
"Jean's exactly right," Xavier said. "We gain nothing but discord by behaving like rumor-mongering hypocrites, passing judgment on others. Both Rogue and Logan have had their share of tragedy, and I do not plan on adding to it because of some misguided desire to protect them from each other. We are not going to reenact _Romeo and Juliet_ here. Taking a strong stand against them will only push them into rash behavior."
"Like Logan needs an excuse to behave rashly," Scott muttered.
Xavier ignored him and continued, "Rogue will be eighteen soon, and she is old enough to make her own decisions."
"But we should provide guidance," Storm said. Xavier smiled at the white-haired woman. "And will our tacit approval of their behavior not give the other students the idea that it is all right to have sex with their teachers?"
Xavier looked around the room. "Since the main faculty of the school is sitting here in this room, Ororo, do you think that's a problem?"
Scott snickered.
She refused to rise to the bait. "A number of them will be going off to college in the fall, Professor, where they will certainly be less protected from such things than they are here."
He inclined his head. "You make a valid point, my dear, but we can't live their lives for them. They are going to make mistakes and they are going to get hurt. If broken hearts and bedroom scandals are the worst of it, I will be pleasantly surprised.
"Now, don't you all have classes to teach?" He dismissed them. None of them looked particularly happy. ~Try not to fight with him. He truly does feel bad about the way things have happened,~ he said to Scott, who shrugged and responded, ~He better stay out of my way, then.~
Logan spent the morning working out, taking his aggression out on various pieces of exercise equipment, and then went running around the lake on the far edge of the property. There was a glider on the near shore, and as he made his last lap, he saw Rogue sitting there, watching him.
"Hey, sugar," she said as he came to a stop in front of her, barely winded. She took in his sweat-covered body, clad only in running shorts and sneakers, and took a deep breath. Don't get distracted, she told herself. Say what you came here to say and then get away before you do something stupid, like fling yourself at him again. Whew, okay, need another deep breath and a dip in the lake. She collected herself. "I'm sorry I was so --" she searched for a word.
"Overwrought?" he supplied and she looked surprised. "What? Just because I look like an animal doesn't mean I didn't get some education at some point. I think."
She smiled. "You do not look like an animal, Logan. I wish you'd stop saying that. I love the way you look." She stopped, blushing. He tried hard not to grin. Smiling too much was bad for his reputation. "Um, anyway, I'm sorry I was so overwrought this morning. I just, I've never, things are moving way too fast here, don't you think? I mean, I thought a lot about it today." She'd done nothing else, really, after the Biology final. She'd refused to speak with anyone. She'd gone to the greenhouse and sat by herself, thinking. Then she'd apologized to Storm, and thanked Kitty.
"I love you and I know you care about me, and you were right, we have a lot of time. I don't want to screw this up, Logan. And I don't want to make anyone else unhappy, either. Does that make sense?"
He sat down next to her, leaving some space between them, and ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "It does, Marie. I was thinkin' the same thing myself." He took her hand and started tracing designs on her gloved palm. She sucked in a breath. How was she supposed to back off and slow down when he was so damn attractive? He had to know what he was doing to her.
He loved that she could get so excited from the simplest of his touches, and realized that it was probably not a good idea to go any further at the moment. He placed her hand gently back in her lap, stood and stretched. "I need to take a shower. You comin'?" Shit. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. She blinked. Was he inviting her to take a shower with him? "Shit, I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said.
She grinned. "Damn. That was a mighty interesting offer, Logan. Someday I hope to take you up on it."
He grabbed her hand again, pulled her up off the bench. "That's a deal, darlin'."
~~End~~
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Dot, Jen, Meg and Pete, as always. The title comes from the Counting Crows song "I Wish I Was a Girl," which has absolutely nothing to do with this story.
Text in italics indicate thoughts
~ ~ indicated telepathic conversation