It took twenty-six days from the moment he stepped through the door after his four-month trip to Canada.

It took twenty-six days before all the UST between Logan and Jean became RST. It was 'resolved' in the forest, one sunny afternoon.

Ironically, Scott was the one who discovered them.

He had been shocked - so had Rogue. In retrospect, they shouldn't have been. The attraction between Jean and Logan was obvious, and this...this had only been a matter of time.

It still hurt, though. It hurt Scott, it hurt Rogue, and it probably hurt Jean and Logan to see the other two so wounded. Four days later, things finally reached their breaking point.

Scott and Jean had an argument that could be heard all over the mansion. It ended when Scott slammed the door open and told Jean that if Logan was what she wanted, then fine by him. He then told her that since she knew where the door was, she might as well use it.

Logan tried to talk to Rogue, tried to tell her that while he knew she cared deeply about him, things between them would never have worked out. She calmly replied that if he didn't leave her alone, she would touch him again - and this time, she wouldn't let go.

That evening, Logan and Jean left for Alaska, to 'discover the secrets of their relationship' as Jean put it. Neither Scott nor Rogue cared enough to say goodbye to them. They just watched from their rooms as the lovers drove away.

While Scott seemed calm and determined to move on, Rogue knew that the seemingly lack of anger and rage was only a facade. In reality, he had only scratched the surface of those emotions. And since Rogue wasn't exactly up to any 'how-dare-they?!' - rants, she decided to do the first thing she could think of - dig up her fake ID card and go drinking.

And to Hell with the consequences.

---

Several hours later, Rogue found herself at some small, local bar. It was dark, filled with smoke and most of the customers looked like the kind that had their photos hanging in the post-office.

The bartender didn't ask any question, though, and that was good enough for Rogue. He just took one quick look at her ID card, pretended that he didn't know it was a fake and handed her the beer she ordered.

Rogue liked that.

What she didn't like, were all the guys who tried to put the moves on her. She'd had more than her share of sweaty, gruff badasses recently and the last thing she wanted was another one who could break her heart.

Using every known - and several unknown - curses, she let them know that she wasn't looking for any company, damnit, and if they wanted a quick fuck they could say hello to miss Five Fingered Lover instead.

The other bar patrons got the hint and left her alone with her beers. It was probably a good thing, Rogue decided. She was hurt and seriously pissed off and she had the feeling that if anyone had bothered her, all the self-defense lessons with Scott would have proved useful.

Rogue ordered another beer and continued her mental Logan-bashing. With a little luck, she would be able to sit there all night, and return to the mansion sometime in the morning. A mansion without Logan.

Ugh.

Life sucked.

---

More than a few beers later, things looked better. Not much, but better nonetheless. Nobody had dared to bother her again, and she had enough money with her to get roaring drunk. A small brawl between some bikers had proved a nice distraction, and judging from the increasing amount of customers, it looked like there was more entertainment on its way.

All in all, things didn't look too bad...until Murphy's Law decided to equal the score.

Rogue was just about done with another beer, when she felt someone stop close to her.

"If it isn't the runt's little brat," someone growled.

Rogue spun around. The growl belonged to a very large and very feral mutant who looked way too familiar. Unlike last time she'd seen him, he was now dressed in normal clothes in order to blend in with the humans, but not even the jeans and the new haircut could hide the intimidating air around him.

"Oh, damn," Rogue muttered, then continued a little louder, "Go *away*, Creed! Leave me the fuck alone!"

It was the alcohol, she later decided. It was the only explanation why she would talk that way to a person who could kill her without breaking a sweat. The alcohol, and maybe the fact that her heart had already caused her more pain than anything Sabretooth could ever do.

Creed's eyes narrowed angrily and for a moment, Rogue was certain that he was going to kill her. Oddly, that didn't worry her.

Then he actually grinned - sure, it looked more than a little threatening with all those sharp teeth, but it was a grin nonetheless.

"Yer drunk, aren't ya?" he commented, and Rogue could have sworn he was enjoying this.

"No shit, Sherlock," she retorted and looked at her beer again.

Creed looked at the bottle and snorted.

"If ya wanted t' get real drunk, ya should have picked somethin' stronger than that."

Rogue didn't dignify that with an answer.

Creed smirked and quickly surveyed the room.

"Does the runt know that 'is little pet's out alone this late?"

Rogue glared at him, then emptied the beer.

"No. Why should he give a fuck anyway?" she asked, adding a half-growl of her own - a habit she'd picked up from Logan.

Logan. Ugh.

Rogue muttered something less-than-flattering about the Wolverine, then ordered another beer. The bartender sent Creed a slightly frightened look as he handed Rogue a bottle, then hurried away from them.

Rogue snorted and took a drink.

Sabretooth just watched her with a slightly snide expression.

"Problems at the little mutie paradise?"

Rogue sent him her best 'get the fuck away or I'll kick your ass'-glare. Creed just seemed to find that awfully funny, judging by the low rumble that made its way through the background noise.

It sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and that just added to Rogue's fury.

"What're ya doin' here, anyway?" she snapped.

"Lookin' for a quick fuck."

Rogue snorted and glared at her beer, having found that at least the bottles didn't laugh at her.

"Why? Ain't the blue bitch enough? Or didya just come lookin' for a threesome?

Sabretooth arched an eyebrow. Maybe. Rogue wasn't sure. She hadn't exactly inherited Logan's near-immunity to alcohol, and both the beer and the heavy, smoke-filled air was starting to get to her.

"That an offer, girl?"

Rogue sent her bottle another evil glare.

"Sit down an' gimme a beer or shut the fuck up," she snapped.

Creed seemed to consider his options, then leaned across the bar and grabbed the bartender.

"A beer for the girl - now!" he growled.

The bartender paled and nodded frantically.

"A-a-any particular kind?" he stuttered.

Creed looked at Rogue.

She shrugged.

"Anything but Canadian."

The bartender nodded again, and Creed released him. The man took several, frightened steps back and, after a threatening glare from Creed, grabbed a beer and placed it in front of Rogue.

"Thanks," she said.

Creed shrugged.

"Yer pissed at the X-freaks, I'm pissed at Mystie, we might as well be pissed together."

The small (and rapidly shrinking) part of her brain that was still fairly reasonably, made her aware that this whole situation was more than a little surreal and that she should just get out of there as fast as she could.

Rogue looked at the beer, then at Sabretooth, then back at the beer.

Oh, well.

---

"...'An then that hairy *slut* left with the redheaded bitch! That *asshole*!!" Rogue finished and took a big drink of her beer.

Creed shook his head with mock sadness.

"Runt was never too smart. Leave with the dickhead's wife when there's a teenager who wants to fuck 'is brains out...idiot."

"I do NOT want to fuck 'is brains out!" Rogue objected.

Creed glared at her over his glass of whiskey, and Rogue sighed.

"'Kay...I do. Did. 'Fore this. I don't wanna fuck 'im anymore. No way!"

"Smart girl," Creed noted and emptied his glass. The bartender quickly filled it again.

"Are ya flirtin' with me?" Rogue asked suspiciously.

Creed looked at her.

"So what? Get a problem with that?"

Rogue opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, then closed it again as she remembered something:

Wolverine hated Sabretooth, hated him with every adamantium-laced bone in his body. And how'd that old saying go? The enemy of my enemy...

Rogue looked at the man in front of her. Feral, ruthless, dangerous...he was perfect. She ran a finger across his chest and smiled seductively.

"Let's find a motel-room...sugah."

---

The following morning, Rogue woke up with the mother of all hangovers.

Her first though was 'ouch!', followed by 'damn!'. Things went pretty much downhill from there.

It took several long, painful minutes before she was able to open her eyes without adding to the headache...and then she wished she could just close them right up again.

At the end of the bed was a small, rather old sofa. In it sat Sabretooth.

Oh, fuck...

Rogue groaned as the previous evening came crashing down on her. Not only had she lost Logan to Jean, she'd also gotten roaring drunk and has sex with Sabretooth...and not only sex. She had lost her virginity to Sabretooth. To one of the sworn enemies of the X-Men.

Oh, fuck!

Sabretooth raised an eyebrow.

"Ya look like hell," he noted.

"Shut up," Rogue grumbled. Creed had let her live so far, hadn't he? If he wanted her dead, he'd just have killed her right away, wouldn't he?

She sighed.

Creed just watched her.

Her first reaction was to get out of there. That...*man*...was one of the worst enemies of the X-Men. He was a cold-blooded killer - he'd nearly killed both her and Logan in Canada. He was an animal, a predator...and he was Logan's worst enemy.

And suddenly things looked a lot different.

Logan had left her. He'd left her for *Jean*. Jean fucking Grey of all people! Those two had hurt not only her, but also Scott who'd grown to be one of Rogue's closest friends. Logan had broken her heart and destroyed their special bond. He deserved to be hurt, too, damnit!

And Creed could give her the revenge she craved.

If Logan returned and found that she was with Sabretooth, his arch-nemesis...the thought was *very* appealing.

On one hand Creed was dangerous, ruthless and animalistic. He was an enemy of the X-Men and he'd tried to kill her. On the other hand, he hated Logan and could help her get even.

In all honesty, the choice wasn't that hard.

Rogue grinned slightly and ignored the flash of pain that followed.

"Let's do this again."

Creed raised an eyebrow.

"Yer not gonna call yer beloved Xavier t' bail ya out?" he asked, slightly surprised.

Rogue shook her head.

"No. The way I see it, this is a good deal for the both of us - I get even with Logan, an' you get laid on a regular basis without havin' to spend money on some slut in a bar," Rogue explained, rather proud that she could actually form a long, coherent sentence despite the hangover.

Creed looked at her and considered it for a few moments. Then he grinned.

"Yer a sneaky little one, aren't ya?"

Rogue just grinned impishly. Creed considered it for a few more moments, then nodded.

"Sure. Why the hell not? Ya've got a deal, girl."

---

Two months later, they had settled into a comfortable routine - they would meet once or twice a week, in a bar in the more unpleasant parts of town. Then they would either go drinking, or head straight to a motel, depending on their mood.

This suited Rogue just fine. Great sex, revenge and an opportunity to get away from the mansion - the perfect cure for a broken heart.

There was only one thing she occasionally missed - touch. At first, she'd missed love, too, but Logan's departure had showed her that love would one lead to pain. She'd loved Logan, loved everything about him. The fact that he'd chosen Jean...it hurt. It hurt, and she'd felt more than enough pain as it was.

That old saying about 'better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all' - bullshit. Rogue had quickly decided that whoever thought up that saying had obviously never been betrayed by the one they loved.

With love out of the picture, there was only one thing she longed for - touch. To touch someone skin-to-skin, without fear and pain.

After her mutation had manifested, only Logan had dared to touch her. With him gone, things didn't look too good.

All that changed, however, one night when Rogue waited for Creed to show up. For once, she'd decided to stay outside the bar - the tension inside left no doubt that it was only a matter of time before a serious fight broke out. And while Rogue might like to live life dangerously, she wasn't stupid.

She was leaning comfortable against a wall when she heard the familiar sound of Creed's bike. She walked toward the entrance of the bar, but hadn't gotten more than a few feet before Creed sped past her and brought the bike to a sudden halt in a nearby alley.

Rogue frowned and headed towards him.

Even before she reached him, she knew that something was wrong. His body was tense as a wire, and he acted more like an animal than a man.

She slowly approached him and was greeted with a low growl. Rogue's eyes widened.

"Yer hands..." she whispered.

Creed got off the bike, his hands leaving blood-red marks on the metal.

Rogue took a small step back.

"What happened?"

"Trouble."

"Who...who was it?" Rogue asked, her gaze never leaving the blood-covered claws.

"A human," was the growled reply as Creed stepped closer.

"Why?" Rogue demanded.

"Was a member of the FOH. Tried to kill a mutie. I broke his neck."

Rogue took another step back. Every instinct told her to run, run like hell, but she couldn't. She watched with morbid fascination as Creed stepped closer.

"Yer curious, aren't ya?" he said. It wasn't a question, but more like a statement.

"No!" she denied.

Creed took a step closer and trapped her between himself and the wall.

"Liar," he growled and leaned closer. "I can smell it on ya. Ya wonder what it feels like...to kill someone. Ya wonder how it feels to see 'em take their last breath. To feel their blood on yer hands"

He reached out and caressed her chin with a claw, leaving a red streak behind. Rogue didn't dare to move. This wasn't the man she was used to. This was the ruthless beast that had nearly killed Logan on the Statue of Liberty. She closed her eyes and fought to stay calm.

"I can show ya, girl," he growled.

Rogue didn't answer. She wasn't sure she could have formed a coherent reply, even if she'd tried. Creed leaned even closer, and Rogue could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"Let me show ya," he muttered.

He didn't wait for her reply, just bit down in her neck. Rogue gasped and opened her eyes. The bite wasn't serious, but deep enough to draw blood. She had only fractions of a second to comprehend what had just happened, before a river of memories flooded her mind.

Instinctively, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong.

She gasped again, this time not from pain, but from surprise. She could feel Creed pour into her, until she knew his every thought, every desire, until she *became* him. She saw his memories of the murder he'd just committed, and suddenly *she* was the one who lashed out at the man, buried her claws in his warm flash and broke his neck as easily as had it been a straw. She felt, felt it in every cell in her body, as the last drop of life left her victim, felt the rush of adrenaline as the man fell lifeless to the ground.

Creed pulled away, hardly more than a little weakened from the transfer.

Rogue looked at him, and in that moment she felt more alive than she ever had before. When she absorbed Logan, she had been near death both times, so the enhanced senses had been pushed in the background while the healing factor did its work. Now, she found herself assaulted by a myriad of smells and sounds. Even the sudden feeling of invincibility, of immortality - it was nothing compared to her newly enhanced senses. She heard her own heartbeat, heard his, like the sounds of a deep drum. The stench from the alley tore in her nostrils - it reeked of garbage and urine, combined with a disgusting smell of vomit and alcohol.

She tried to ignore it, and found that she could even smell the blood on Creed's hands - a metallic, strangely sweet smell. As she looked around her, she saw every little fragment of dust, every crack in the wall, every rat in the impenetrable darkness where the alley ended.

A particular loud yell from the bar made her whimper and cover her ears.

"Ignore it. Ya'll get used to it," Creed said.

Rogue frowned and discovered that he was right. Both scents and sound had already gotten a lot easier to handle. She waited for a few minutes to get used to it all before she focused on Creed.

"Are ya...okay?" she asked, still dazed. "When Logan touched me, he...fell unconscious."

"That's 'cause of the metal in the runt's skeleton. It slows down 'is healing factor."

Rogue frowned and reached up to touch the bitemark...but found none. The healing factor had already taken care of it, along with the bruises from various Danger Room sessions.

She looked questioningly at Creed.

"Ya wanted touch, girl. I can give it to ya...if ya want it."

She shouldn't. Every personality in her head, every thought in her mind - they all screamed at her to get away. This man was dangerous -he had just killed a human in cold blood. If he grew tired of her, he could kill her just as easily.

But this was touch. And every cell in her body yearned for that, yearned to be touched by someone, anyone. Besides...what did she have to lose?

She kissed him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

---

It was two days later when Rogue discovered the first noticeably effects of Creed's touch.

The enhanced senses were still there, although they were nowhere as good as Creed's. She still had his memories and could feel him in her head, stronger than Logan or Erik. But up until then, there had been no visible changes.

The Fates wanted otherwise, though.

Rogue had taken a shower and was about to put on some nail polish when she noticed something.

Her nails were different. They looked a lot longer than the day before.

She put down the nail polish and moved closer to the light.

It wasn't her imagination. The nails were longer, and where they began, there was a thin stripe across the nail. She looked more closely. The stripe was dark brown and seemed thicker than the rest of the nail.

Rogue frowned. The color seemed oddly familiar.

Very dark brown, like...claws.

Oh God...she was developing claws.

---

Two weeks later, it was impossible to see that she once had long, beautiful nails. The rapid growth had continued and now the nails had turned into one-inch claws.

Like Creed's, they couldn't be retracted and for the first time, Rogue was glad that she was forced to wear gloves. Now, though, she opted for leather gloves instead of those made of satin and silk - it had to be a thick material to cover her new 'assets'.

While the claws were far from beautiful, the more rational part of Rogue's mind made her aware that they might prove useful. They were a muddy, dark brown with a rough surface, but the tips were razor-sharp and much harder than her nails had been.

They were strangely...graceful...in a violent way, she decided.

Whereas Wolverine's claws were meant to cause maximum destruction, these claws were better suited for one-on-one fighting. Small, sharp -they could cause a lot of pain if one knew how to use them.

And with Sabretooth's memories...these claws suddenly showed a whole lot of potential.

---

It was near the three months anniversary of Logan and Jean's departure when Scott finally noticed that something had changed.

It was during a Danger Room session, in the middle of a mock battle between Scott and her, when one of her nails - claws - tore a hole in her right glove. She tried to hide it, but it was too late.

Scott saw the claw and grabbed her before she could get away.

"Scott! Let go!" Rogue snapped. "What the fuck are ya doin'?"

"Show me your hand."

"Wha-? I just tore a hole in my glove, that's all, damnit!" she objected and tried to get loose.

"Rogue. Now!" he ordered, this time in the voice that had earned him the nickname 'Fearless Leader'. It was a voice she'd only heard him use once before - in battle.

Rogue froze instantly.

"Well?" Scott asked.

Reluctantly, Rogue showed him her right hand. On the tip of the index finger, the glove had split in the seam and revealed a dark brown claw. In a swift move, Scott pulled the glove of her hand. He sent her a grave look, and unable to meet his eyes, she looked away.

He shook his head.

"I think we need to talk."

---

Scott had barely closed the door to his office, before his 'calm leader' mask evaporated and he allowed his feelings to show.

"Who?" he demanded.

Rogue flinched, but didn't answer.

"This has something to do with all of your mysterious trips into town, hasn't it?"

Rogue nodded, and Scott sighed.

"Rogue, I was willing to let you keep your little secret because I know you hurt just as much as I do and that this is just your way of dealing with it. But now I want the truth. Who caused this?" he asked and motioned towards her claws.

Rogue took a deep breath to calm herself before she answered.

"Sabretooth," she finally admitted.

"What?!"

"It was Sabretooth," Rogue repeated, this time a bit more defiantly.

"*Sabretooth*?" Scott repeated, incredulously. "God, Rogue, what are you thinking?! He's with the Brotherhood! He's dangerous!"

"So am I, Summers. Yer point bein'?" Rogue retorted.

"Do you even know the consequences of what you're doing, Rogue? What if Magneto escaped? What if we have to fight the Brotherhood again? Can you honestly tell me that you would be able to fight Creed if it came to that?"

Rogue glared at him.

"Yes. This hasn't changed anything, Scott. Victor an' me, we're still on different sides. He wouldn't have it any other way, an' neither would I."

Scott sighed.

"Rogue...how can I even be sure that we still have your loyalty? How can I be sure you won't suddenly change sides in the middle of a battle?"

Rogue shook her head slowly.

"I can't give ya any proof, Scott. I can only ask ya to trust me. An' if ya can't...then make the professor read my mind or somethin'. I have nothing to hide."

"Rogue..."

Rogue sighed.

"Trust me, Scott. This thing between Victor and me...it isn't about loyalty, it's about revenge. Trust me. Please."

Scott didn't answer, and Rogue knew that she'd hit a sore spot. As much as Scott hated to admit it, he wanted revenge, too. Revenge for the heartache and the ruthless betrayal by the woman he once loved.

From the 'fearless leader' point of view, he shouldn't even be having this conversation. Rogue was sleeping with the enemy - quite literally. The enemy that once tried to kill all of them.

On the other hand, this was the perfect chance to get even with Logan and Jean. Through Rogue's revenge, he would get even, too. Just the thought of Logan returning to find 'his' Rogue involved with Sabretooth...the idea was very attractive. And not even Cyclops could control all of his emotions.

Finally, the need for revenge won the battle.

"Just...promise me you'll be careful, okay? I don't want to lose you as well."

There was a flicker of surprise in Rogue's eyes, then she nodded.

"I will. I can kill 'im with a touch, remember? Weird as it sounds...I think he actually kinda respects me for that."

Scott sighed.

"For everybody's sake...I hope you're right."

---

After that, things seemed to settle down. Rogue continued her affair with Sabretooth, this time under Scott's watchful eye - like a protective older brother, he had made her promise to tell him whenever she met with Creed.

The other residents at the mansion eventually stopped with the pitying looks, much to the relief of both Rogue and Scott, who had hated every moment of the whole 'poor them - they just lost the loves of their lives' - thing that had been going on among the others.

With Jean out of the picture, Scott slowly grew closer to Storm and found himself spending more and more time with her. He became more outgoing and slowly learned to open his heart again.

All in all, things looked better than they had in a long time.

And then, two months after Scott found out about Creed, the earth shook again.

Logan and Jean returned - separately.

According to Jean, they had turned out to be too different, and they had decided to return to New York. She wholly intended to win Scott back, and Logan...she didn't know what he planned to do.

Rogue just nodded and wished her the best of luck, and made a mental note to warn Scott.

That night, Logan came to her room to talk.

He told her that he regretted what had happened, that he hadn't thought about the consequences and that he had been a fool not to see what had been right under his nose. He told her that Scott had told him about Creed, that he hoped that the 'bastard' hadn't hurt her and that he hoped she would ditch Creed now that he, Logan, was back. He explained that he wanted to be with her now and that he regretted everything his mistake that put her through.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

Rogue knew he spoke the truth. She could smell the regret on him, the sorrow. His body told of things he could - would - never express with words - desperation, hope...confidence? She hid a frown. She took another sniff, and realized that he firmly believe that they could just get together now and everything would be as before.

She looked down at her black leather gloves, which she knew concealed ten hard, brown, claw-like nails. She remembered the five months that had passed. The anger, the feeling of betrayal, the pity from others. She remembered how heartbroken Scott had been. She remembered the need for revenge. She remembered her first night with Victor, their first touch, their time together.

Finally she looked at Logan again and knew beyond a doubt what choice she'd have to make.

Revenge...or forgiveness. A relationship based on sex and revenge, a relationship that had ever so slowly developed into something that could lead to friendship...or a relationship based on love. But it was a love based on mistakes and forgiveness. And she wasn't sure if she could forgive anymore.

"I'm sorry, Marie," Logan repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He looked at her and in his eyes, she saw that he took her silence as a sign of forgiveness. In that moment, five long months came crashing down on her and she knew her answer.

"I'm not."

The End