October

She'd been staring out of the window for an hour before someone actually noticed she wasn't paying attention to anyone. Lost in her thoughts about the long strip of tarmac that led out of the grounds, the sound of geese flying overhead punctuating her world.

Migration, the movements of animals to the winter grounds telling her things were about to change again, it was Kitty who finally punched her in the arm. Bringing her back to the room and the discussion about the best way to spend the few days they had from training.

She had other priorities, turning her gaze inward she could see the Wolverine in her mind getting itchy feet, he'd be home soon. Coming ahead of the winter storms, blowing into her life like the snow and going again as the spring showed it's face on the thin birches that
surrounded the school grounds. He didn't like to see the changes, she knew that but he'd come back every year since Alkali, watching at a distance as they all grew up.

Sometimes she thought she felt him around in the long sticky days of summer, as if she could just reach out and touch him but if he had come, he didn't use the bike he'd stolen from Scott. Smiling as she remembered her first reaction to the sound of the engine, flying out of Bobby's arms to greet him as he walked through the doors. The smile in his gaze as she'd walked toward him, a look she now recognised as possession, he'd looked at her as *his*.

That was until Remy, she'd been sat with him in the large rec room, his arms wrapped around her holding her tight to his chest when Logan had walked in. She hadn't heard the bike, the falling snow had muffled the sound and she'd been unaware of him until he'd found her.
When she'd seen him, she'd fought out of Remy's grip,
enduring the glare she'd gotten from Remy to go and hold him. Remind him that she still cared about him even though things had changed since he'd been home last. She'd tried to ask him where he went that year, he'd
pulled back from her arms and just held them in his own warm strength and frowned. It was the way he held her arms, the way the sides of his mouth quirked downward, the breathing that had shifted to deep sigh's. The look in his eyes, the deep cold look that spoke of things
they both understood without words. The sharpness of scalpels, the stink of antiseptic, faces and half-remembered names, he didn't need to tell her anything more, she knew enough by his expressions. She'd
held him then, apologising for making him think about it when this was his haven, his place where he could believe life wasn't what it seemed to be outside. When he was here he could believe he was normal for a while, unwind and digest what he'd found over the year.

They'd spent time together, meals in the kitchen, walks through the grounds but there was a barrier between them where there hadn't been one before. She'd noticed this time when he'd left in late February, the look on his face as he'd climbed on his bike. His pack behind
him and for the first time a backpack strapped to him, it had hit her then as she'd seen him turn to leave. He'd taken nearly everything this time, leaving only a few things behind, the things he didn't want to damage on the road. She'd bought him a new leather, even gotten Pieter to paint on the back of it, a tribal design that if you
looked at it the right way you'd be able to see his own beetling brows staring out at you. She'd shown it to Jubilee and she'd nearly squeaked the room down, it was in his closet when he left. She'd checked his room after she'd seen him go, the scent of him still strong in there. Looking out of the window again at the gathering
storm on the horizon she could feel him coming home and inside she knew this time it would be the last.

What happened this year would change everything and inside she was prepared to do whatever it took to share whatever time she had left with him. He'd been distancing himself from her, letting her grow up, letting her find her own way, make up her own mind about life. The
relationships she'd had here hadn't been perfect but then
anyone who was with her was dodging a bullet everytime they touched her. He never spoke about where he'd been to her but he spent time with the Professor every day he was here. Seeing him become less troubled each time until the smile was back in his gaze and his movements no longer
looked tired.

Inside her head, the part she still carried of him kept things from her, oh she'd gained a few new skills sure but he was a stubborn bastard who didn't share easily. She'd taken to meditating; trying to calm her mind that sometimes got infiltrated by accident, like the
Remy Incident.
It had been that that had caused their relationship to
break down, it had been a joke, a silly prank but it had almost killed him and left her with a true picture of Remy. He'd charged up a coaster under her drink, she'd been resting safely on his clothed chest, his bare arms safely wrapped around her waist.
As the coaster exploded she'd shot up, her own arms swinging wildly, her head cracking against his chin hard enough to knock them both out cold. Her bare cheek resting against his neck, draining him until Kitty had noticed they weren't speaking and dragged them apart.
She'd woken in med bay with a cracking headache and a whole new view on the world. It hadn't been the extra power she'd had for a while oh no, it had been Wolverine's reaction to him infiltrating what he considered to be *his* territory. For days afterward when she went near Remy she find herself growling and wanting to gut him. It was all she could do just to be civil, she hadn't taken that much from him, but it had been enough to see that he'd never seen their relationship as
permanent. Thing was what she saw Wolverine saw and he didn't like it, not one bit. So they began to drift apart, slowly like ice in the Arctic, the break once done couldn't be healed and she'd taken to meditating to calm Wolverine's impulses down. It was while she was
inside her own head that she realised something that Logan had done to her everytime she'd held him, up till the day he saw her with Remy.

Everytime she'd held him he'd take a breath of her hair, just dig his nose into her head and breathe her in. His arms would tighten around her for just a second, once or twice she'd even felt a rumble run through him as he'd done it. But when she'd hugged him after letting
go of Remy he'd barely held her, he hadn't smelled her,
hadn't purred as his arms wrapped around her. She could have been Ororo for all the emotion he'd put into it and she'd realised this when he was still half a continent away and the summer had been in full swing.

So she'd gone to the source of her information, Wolverine inside her head, prodding and poking the thought form in her skull until she finally got him to admit what the hell he was doing when he held her.
The answer had been simple enough; she'd just been blind to it until now.
Three years had gone by, three years where she could have been sharing things, doing things, and learning what really mattered instead of trigonometry and political history. He'd seen her as his mate, he'd found her, and he'd claimed her as his own from the moment he'd wrapped himself around her on top of Lady Liberty. He made the
decision then and there to keep her alive even if it cost him his own life and inside she knew he'd never made that choice before.
The revelation had stopped he in her tracks and she'd broken several arrangements to take time sorting through her mind. Rechecking and checking the behaviour patterns she'd experienced from him. Seeing it
as an observer for the first time and realising at last why Ororo gave her such sad smiles. She knew Logan was distancing himself from her, leaving it up to her to make the choices she needed to make. He
wasn't one to speak when it came to emotions or feelings, he'd leave it upto you, make your own mind up and then do something about it. So she was going to and she'd make sure he knew exactly what she was thinking, even if she wasn't sure he was ready to hear it.

Looking at the rest of them sat around in the rec room, their faces excited and open about the few days they were going to have free. Jubilee was going either to finally get herself organised and sort out the junkyard she called a closet, Jean had told her she sorted what she had or she'd do it. Jean's cleaning was usually throw
everything out that was on the floor, there was an incentive, and Jean was going to take her shopping for an evening gown in New York.

Jubilee had already started sorting clothes in her head and was asking Kitty if she would like to have first pick of the rest. Turning her thoughts inward she gave her apologies, left the room, she had a lot of work to do herself, and the sooner she got started the better.

He'd been thinking about heading home since the first blizzard had hit him on the road to a small out of the way dot on an old military map, a gift from the Professor earlier that year. He'd stopped about five miles from his goal and just turned around, he'd find nothing that wouldn't wait until next spring. Shifting the backpack and
shaking the new snow off his tired bones, the winter had come fast this year, hardly a month between the brilliant autumn colour and the first snow fall. It'd be a hard winter and it'd probably last into the first weeks of March if he'd understood the signs well enough.
Taking out the battered map he looked for the most direct route home, it'd take about a week if he kept moving, sleeping only when he needed to. Looking at the heavy clouds of the storm above his head and the snow that was already swirling down knowing he'd have to move now or he'd be stuck up here for the duration.
Replacing the map in his leather, not noticing the wind that snatched the worn photograph out of the battered inner pocket. Flying upward into the wind, its surface pitted by grime and too many nights of being handled in the near darkness of shattered nightmares. A warm
southern smile and green eyes hidden behind a cascade of auburn and white, a private moment snatched by chance, ripped away by the Arctic winds, lost in the white of winter. The only sound heard over the wind being the roar of an engine, pushing hard into the teeth of winter, the passenger unaware of his lifeline cut free and lost to
the wind.

November

She'd sorted everything in the few days she'd had; talked to the Professor, told him she was going to take a small holiday for a while. Not until spring but she was definitely going before she made any choices about her college applications. He'd smiled at her words, giving her the use of a car if she needed it and offered her the use of several apartments he owned across the eastern states. Smiling she'd taken him up on the offer knowing he probably knew why she was telling him everything, it was hard to fool a telepath, even one that wasn't reading your mind. Body language said enough for you.

When she'd left, she'd felt a relief almost, as if she'd
finally grown up enough to state what she'd really wanted for herself. She'd taken to spending a few hours everyday in Logan's room, using the peace and quiet in his room to meditate. It suited the Wolverine in her head; he approved and so kept quiet while she concentrated on
the exercises she was trying to do. The sublimation of her own nervous defences, the reaction her skin had to anyone touching her.

It had been put to her by Hank and the Professor that her skin was something she should be able to control eventually but she had to overcome her own fears first. Therefore, she'd used the time to acclimatise herself to his scent again; she'd wanted to gain the easy attitude she'd had with him before her relationship with Remy had
destroyed it.
When she'd first entered the room her body had reacted as she used to when she'd swung too high on the swings her father had erected in her childhood home. The sensation of losing control, of feeling the ground rushing past you and the weightlessness of your limbs before the plunge back into gravity's grip. Touching the things he'd
left behind, leaving her gloves off so her own scent would be left behind.
Every day she was there, she used the shower, letting the warmth take the tension from her, gaining confidence in the small tiled room until it felt like second nature. If she was going to spend as much time as she could with him, she'd need to be able to cope with every room he was in, even this one. She wanted to be calm when she saw
him, knowing the first few glances he sent her way would tell her everything and she had to work out the language before he got here.

Listening to the sleet hit the window of his room knowing it wouldn't be long now he'd be here within the week.
She'd even cloistered herself off from everyone over the last few weeks, even Ororo had diverted her friends attentions after she'd tried and failed to express her needs to them. To be left alone, to concentrate on the goal ahead of her knowing how important it was, a
last chance, something everyone seemed to understand but her friends.

She couldn't blame them though; they didn't have a man in
their head that refused to communicate in normal ways. He'd show her in movements and gestures, what he wanted, what he'd hoped for everytime he'd come home. The language was so subtle so difficult it was a wonder Logan didn't go mad in the mixed gatherings they held over
Christmas. Understanding now why he kept out of the way, reading people's true intentions while their minds and voices said the absolute opposite. He'd once accused a man of stealing at the large winter ball; she'd dragged him down out of his room thinking she'd been doing him a favour. The ruckus that had come from the whole thing had made Logan disappear for a few days while the Professor
smoothed things over.

Point was he'd been right, the man had been stealing information and passing it onto the government, Logan had been right; his senses tuned so fine to every cue and scent that he'd read the man without realising. He'd avoided her after that for a while, although truth be
told she'd been too busy seeing who Remy had lined up to take her place to really notice how much she'd hurt Logan. Now when the thought opened up she could see how much she had caused the rift between them by her own thoughtless actions and desires.
Determined not to make the same mistake she watched the sleet turn to snow, as the first fall of the year landed on the bare trees. Knowing he'd be driving through this to get home, smiling to herself as she understood exactly what she had to do when he got here.

He'd made good time, the roads further south had been clearer and the bike had kept him moving ahead of the worst of winter. Cold still ate at him though, pricking his skin and making him wince with its savage bite, and just because he could heal didn't mean he couldn't feel.
The tiny fire he had under the lee of two pines was just enough to keep him warm. The ground too wet to build on directly he'd pulled a stone fireplace together burning pine knots that would keep going even if the snow tried to put it out. The stones would retain the heat and warm the area as he slept for a while, the meagre rations he
had had been eaten and his stomach was complaining. Taking a look around him he saw the remnants of the undergrowth, a few pinecones were on the floor, still closed. Snatching them up he began to prise the tight cones open, the small sweet nuts inside enough to feed his
hunger for a while until he could get going again.

Picking the pieces apart his mind wandered to home, would she still be with the tall red headed mutant? Remy had been his name hadn't it?
She'd seemed happy enough the last time he'd seen her, her
scent had been filled with him and her skin didn't seem to be an issue with either of them. His calm easy air had been lost when she'd fought out of Remy's arms to hold him; the look Remy had given him was smug beyond words. Saying everything in his easy air and smile his scent
all over her telling him of his full ownership. Yet there had been something in her gaze, in her grip on him that hadn't allowed him to fully let go yet.
He'd been quiet and withdrawn all the time he'd been there, even when they'd spent time together, reading her as she spoke and walked beside him unaware of what she was telling him underneath all the words. Knowing she was just as unsure about Remy as he was of her, she'd grown so much, done so much in the years he'd been away.

He'd talked to the Professor nearly every month, just checking that things were fine with her and to tell the Professor how the leads were panning out for him. Keeping the news to the simple things, away from the news of her relationships, hoping to hear that she'd asked about him and being disappointed every time. Hope was something
he'd put to bed the last time he'd left, seeing her face watch him as he climbed on the bike and seeing her realise something was wrong. He was taking himself out of her life, removing himself until there was nothing but a memory of someone who'd cared for her along with many
others.
He hadn't meant the same to her as she had to him, the thought burning into his mind as he reached for the photograph lodged in the inside of his jacket. The dread seeping through him as he realised it was gone, just like she was. Eyes settling on the embers of his fire he knew he had to go home just once more, to check, to be sure he was right. Only then, would he kill the hope dead, leaving for the road again, changed but the same as the winter around him, cold and bitter.

Today was the day; the kids were playing in the snowfall out on the vast lawn even Kitty was out there in the thick of it phasing through well-aimed snowballs. She was in the kitchen watching them all like a mother hen watching her brood; she didn't even hear the electric
motor of the Professors wheelchair until he spoke. "There's a clear piece of weather coming this afternoon, I was thinking of taking some of the students out to Central Park to see the snow sculptures? Would
you like to join us Rogue?" Turning she caught his smile and saw the glint in his eye, her own posture changed slightly and he just nodded. "Of course, we'll see you later. I hope you don't mind being here alone, several people are going to get started on their Christmas shopping so we may be back late." His voice filled the
room and she'd never understood the inflections until she'd actually listened to every word with a quiet mind.

Now she knew he was giving her a clear house, no distractions, nothing to confuse her, no one to interrupt her when she was about to say the most important thing in
her life. Turning to see him leave she sent her emotions to him, her thanks, her heartfelt love for his understanding, listening to his rich voice answer her, "Your welcome Rogue."
A few minutes later, the whole grounds, which had been bustling with life, were empty, the garden showing the signs of play but no one around to say exactly what they had been doing. Turning away she went to wait in the hallway, he wouldn't be long she could feel him the
piece of him in her mind gaining strength the nearer he got. Picking up her book, she settled in for the duration, a calm peaceful smile on her face.

The sun was nearly down when he approached the gates; they opened for him with a bare whisper, his face and hands frozen from the wind.
Going straight to the garage he didn't notice the silence until the engine was off, straining his ears to listen for movement, for the sound of laughter or crying. Finding nothing, he just walked into the main building, the corridors empty of life, the scent of children
everywhere but not one to be seen. Turning the corner he caught sight of someone seated in a chair opposite the front doors, their head turned away from him. Walking down the corridor he knew they heard him because they began to turn, he almost stopped dead when he recognised whom it was, Marie.
Just watching as her head turned to see him, a smile on her lips and a light in her eye just for him. Slowly she put the book she'd been reading down, folding it carefully so she didn't lose her place. Every movement was relaxed, precise almost; her entire focus was on
him. Remembering to move he walked down toward her, the cold still radiating off his body as he neared her. His mind reading her every movement, sensing what she was trying to say without words.

She'd heard the bike move around to the garage, she'd wait
bide her time and wait for him to find her. She kept her mind focussed, the efforts almost second nature now, and the trick of control to relax and let it flow as you do. When she'd caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye she'd almost lost it and stood but he deserved more
than that. Turning her gaze toward him slowly she folded the page back in her book and closed it, seeing him falter in his stride as he realised she was giving him all her attention, every part of it. She could feel the cold running off him as she stood slowly, placing the
book down behind her. Hands relaxed and bare as she stood in front of him, a smile on her face as she slid her hands under the cold leather. Wrapping herself into his warmth, her grip resting on the denim underneath protected from her skin. Stepping into him, one foot
between his the other to the side so her body was flat against his.
Her grip light but strong, every movement of her fingers being read by his body and mind as she moved them across his back and gripped him under his shoulder blades. Letting herself sigh into his shirts and feeling him wrap around her, the purr rumbling through her body like thunder. His head lost in her hair as he breathed her in, the smile on her face the one and the same of the Wolverine in her head.

When she'd put the book down he'd expected her to speak to
him, to say something but she hadn't. He'd only noticed her hands were bare when he'd seen her raise them and slide them under the cold leather, feeling her move into him. Pressing all of her against him, showing him who she was, what she was in these simple movements, the changes
of her body, her full hips and thighs. Her breasts that were pressed against his chest, the scent of her mixed with his own, realising on some level she must have been in his room. Yet the scent was ingrained in her, meaning she'd been in there for some time and it had been a regular occurrence. When her hands had slid up to press
against his shoulder blades, he had to hold her, the grip telling her his status in her mind. The grip of a lover, with her pressed against him, her body resting calm and steady in his grip as he wrapped himself around her. A deep rumble of possession coming from his chest as he held her, dropping his head into her hair and breathing her into himself. Scenting no one or nothing but him on her, feeling her smile and the grip on his back change as she realised he'd understood her. She wanted him, needed him and it was all he'd ever hoped for, moving a little he looked into her face and saw her calm gaze, she knew now and he understood that when he left in spring she'd be
going with him.

Moving his head slightly to the side his question crossing his face without being spoken, her hand lightly touching his cheek and a small quirky smile telling him things would work out the way they wanted them to. There was no need to worry about tomorrow or next year just
yet; they had enough catching up to do. Taking his arm she led him away, taking him home where the words that were spoken would only confirm what had already been said. Sometimes things are best left unspoken, love has to be shown to be understood and she'd finally learned it by listening to the one person who said the most but never
spoke of it.