"Hey, kid."

Rogue's head jerked up from her study of her gloved hands and she smiled at him faintly. "Good evenin', Logan," she replied, her formality a very small protest at the fact that he still called her 'kid', even a year after she'd officially become an adult.

He smirked at her, though she doubted it was because of her tone, and dropped casually down next to her, arms spread over the back of the bench. Maybe he was aware of the way her heart skipped a couple of beats, maybe not. Maybe he was just used to it, took it in his stride. After all, most of the women at Xavier's probably reacted exactly the same way.

So, she sat back and leaned against his arm, taking advantage of the rare physical contact.

"Heard you fightin' with Snowflake," he said, abruptly.

She grunted in a manner that would have appalled her mother - Southern manners being the very epitome of Rogue's oh-so-ironically-normal upbringing. "I imagin' everyone did, Logan. We're not exactly subtle."

Rogue wished she could pick at her nails. Marie always had, when she was nervous, when she was talking about something she didn't want to. It was hard to pick at her nails when she was wearing gloves, though she supposed she could take them off. Logan wasn't going to jump her or anything.

"Things not going well?"

She plucked the glove from her hand, slowly, drawing out the movement in the sexiest way she could, letting the silky material slide over her hands and fingertips. Rogue had made removing her gloves an art form. "No, Logan, I can safely say things aren't going 'well'. Thank you for your concern."

"Don't get all pissy with me, Rogue. I'm just making conversation."

"You're not. You're being nosey," she said bitterly, bundling the silk gloves up in her hands tightly. "Bobby and I are about to break up. This is a very fragile time for me."

Logan snorted. "Oh, really? You care that much?"

"I do! I do care!" she exclaimed hotly, sitting forward, away from his damn arm, and glaring over at him.

His hands raised defensively. "Okay, okay." But he didn't sound apologetic -just amused. Logan didn't take her relationship with Bobby seriously. He hadn't since the beginning, of course. When Logan thought of relationships with women, sex was an integral part of it. If not sex, then intimacies of the physical kind. And while she was pretty sure - she had once had him in her head, after all - Logan wasn't keen on the idea of her having sex with Bobby, it was inconceivable for Logan to imagine a relationship that wasn't physical in some way.

Therefore, Bobby was nothing. And Logan couldn't imagine how Bobby could be anything to Rogue, and vice versa.

Rogue wanted to say something bitchy about him and Jean - but she couldn't make herself do it.

"We don't chat any more."

She forget her sulk in her surprise. "Chat?" she repeated, astounded.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "yeah."

"Chat?"

"Could you stop?"

Apparently not. "Seriously, Logan, when have we ever chatted?"

He scratched behind his ear and shifted on the bench, clearing his throat once more and not looking at her. "I dunno."

Rogan began to grow suspicious. What the hell was he doing out here anyway? He didn't deliberately seek her out - he hadn't in the beginning and he certainly hadn't started to once he came back for good. They pretty much left each other to their own devices, which was fine by her. She liked to keep her inappropriate crush private, after all, and having him around would just exasperate it. Besides, Logan made Bobby uncomfortable.

"Why are you here, Logan?"

"I can't come and sit outside? It's a nice day, after all. There're rules that say I can't come outside and enjoy the... the..."

They both looked up at the overcast sky. The smell in the air was the heavy, moist kind that meant rain was on the way.

"Bullshit," she informed him, her mouth enunciating the word carefully to create the maximum impact.

As expected, he made a disapproving face - again, indescribably ironic since she only really started swearing after absorbing him. "Rogue."

She smirked and sat back on the bench, folding her bare arms over her camisole top and staring out across the grounds. "Did someone send you? I'll bet someone sent you. Kitty? Jubilee?"

"Do you actually think either of them would order me around?"

He was right, but that didn't mean she was off base. She just needed to step up on authority levels. "Storm? Scott?"

"Rogue..." he growled.

"Don't growl at me," she snapped. "I don't get intimidated by that."

He sighed as if this was the most trying conversation of his life. "I just want to know... that you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay."

"Were you always this difficult?"

Considering that within the first few hours of knowing him, she'd got his truck blown up and the shit beaten out of him... "Yes."

"Jesus," Logan muttered.

They slid into an uncomfortable silence, Rogue content to ponder darkly on the disaster that was her love life. It wasn't like she had guys lining up to take her on, or anything. Sure, Remy flirted, but that was what Remy did. It was ingrained in his nature. Without Bobby, who else would be left? No one, that's who. Shit.

She must have made some slight noise, because Logan nudged her leg with his knee. "What?" he asked, softly.

She sighed. "I knew it was coming," she admitted grudgingly.

"Yeah."

"Shit, you suck the life of someone each time you make out... it's gotta get irritatin'," she said, trying to sound casual about it, even though she could still feel the ice in her veins and the paleness of Bobby's face as he assured her he was all right.

"Hey..." His arm slid back over the bench behind her, his fingers tugging on her hair. "I'm sorry, kid."

"I hate when you call me that," Rogue whispered, finding herself -horribly - close to tears. She hated crying, always had done, and it was worse crying in front of him. Why she only seemed to cry in front of him she had no idea; she just hated it.

"I know. So, when are you gonna do the deed?"

She shrugged, staring off at a potted plant, willing her tears to disappear. "I was thinking about letting him do it."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. He's got the reason..."

"That's not the point." He scooted closer to her on the bench. "Come on, Rogue! Have some pride - dump the guy on his ass."

"You're very bloodthirsty, aren't you?" He gave her a 'Hell yeah' look and she smiled. "Fine, fine. I'll dump him."

"Do it somewhere public. You know, after you've argued about somethin'. So it doesn't look like a pre-emptive strike."

"This isn't war, Logan. It's dating."

Logan raised his eyebrows, giving her a very patronizing stare. "Sure, kid. Whatever you say. Remember - do it public, do it loud. And try to get the last word in."

And, having given her his sage advice - really sage, considering he hadn't had a relationship longer than three weeks in his remembered life, not including whatever he had with Jean - he patted her shoulder and stood up, stretching. "Think I'll go for a run," he commented thoughtfully, scratching the back of his neck and walking off towards the stables.

Dammit, she thought, trying to drag her eyes away from Logan's backside, she'd never stared at Bobby's ass that way. That had to be a sign right from the beginning.

Sighing, she contemplated Logan's advice, trying to decide whether or not to take it. The memories and thoughts she had taken from him had long since faded but there were times when she could feel his influence rising to the surface. Pride, he'd said, and the remnents of the Logan in her head agreed.

Loud. Public. Last word.

Right.

-end-