Title: Immaculate Misconception
Author: Evelyn Benton
Rating: Young Adults
Date: 09/27/03
Genre: Humor, Romance
Fandom: X-Men (Wolverine/Rogue)
Archive: Stellar Phenomena, WolverineAndRogue.com, and FanFiction.net; all others, please ask.
Disclaimer: Twentieth Century Fox and Marvel own X-Men; I own this non-profit fan fiction; no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Please note that this takes place after X2: X-Men United. Thank you, Danielle, for beta reading.
Challenge: This is an answer to the WRFA 3rd Annibirthary Challenge.
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to all of the extraordinarily kind and generous people at WolverineandRogue.com & the WRFA. Thank you for creating a beautiful shrine to our favorite couple and allowing us to contribute to it. You guys do a fantastic job--thank you!
Summary: On the evening of Rogue and Logan’s anniversary, Scott takes out of context some dialogue he was not intended to hear. Chaos ensues.




It was late Friday evening, and Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was silent. Many of the teens had come in within the hour prior and headed straight for bed despite the fact that they still had time before curfew was up. Storm and Professor Xavier were at a genetics conference in London and would not be returning until the next day.

Rogue took advantage of the rare peace and quiet. Despite feeling a little “off,” she had spent most of the day cooking a lavish meal for Logan in honor of their third anniversary. Because Rogue had wanted to keep it a surprise, she had simply told Logan to meet her in the school’s private dining room, typically reserved for small gatherings with VIPs, around ten that night. It was late for a meal, far later than Rogue was used to, but it was one of the few times she and Logan could actually get together in uninterrupted privacy.

Rogue, dressed in a long black skirt and a sheer, long-sleeved black top with a red, clinging spaghetti-strap baby tee underneath, leaned over the table and lit the candles. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was two minutes after ten. She absent-mindedly fanned herself with her hand, and after a second of doing this, she realized she was sweating.

Rogue pulled a chair out from the table and gracelessly flopped down in it. She lifted up her hair and rubbed her clammy neck, brushing the small hairs upward away from her moist skin. Goose bumps began to rise on her skin, and a small shudder traveled across her limbs.

“Hey.” Rogue jerked around in time to see Logan, the eternal bad ass, transform into Logan, the secretly whipped man who was scared of a woman. The gruff, ruggedly handsome Canadian scrutinized every detail of the dimly illuminated room before his eyes finally landed on Rogue. “What’s this?” he asked in what almost sounded like a small voice. He had forgotten whatever special event this date marked, but apparently it was very special to Rogue. He was certain she would give him a hard time for forgetting whatever it was he had obviously forgotten.

Rogue stood, feeling a slight wave of dizziness as she did so. She braced her hand on the back of the chair she had been sitting in. “Happy anniversary,” she said, her attempted smile contorted into a pained grimace as the nausea and dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.

Concerned, Logan stepped to her side. “You okay, Kid?” Rogue was silent. She did not move, nor breathe. “Rogue?”

Rogue broke out into a run, and Logan ran in pursuit. When he caught up with her, Rogue was on the floor in front of the toilet, vomiting. Logan wondered if she wanted privacy, but he decided that what she wanted was irrelevant. She was sick and needed someone with her. He entered the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He sat down on the floor behind Rogue. Rogue was not even aware of his presence, or the fact that he had gathered her hair in his hands, pulling it away from her face.




After about thirty minutes of throwing-up without pause, Logan’s worry intensified. “You need a doctor.” It was obvious to both of them that this was not some bug. The school still had not found a replacement for Jean, even after all this time, and not having a doctor in the house made them realize just how much the school had taken Jean for granted.

Rogue coughed, and forcing herself not to heave again, she spoke: “Hospital? And what, tell them your mutant friend needs help, but be careful not to touch her?” She began to throw-up again, and the slight chills she had been having now raged through her body, forcing her to shake uncontrollably.

Logan, still holding Rogue’s hair out of her face, rubbed her back with his free hand. “What did you eat today?”

“Sandwich…”

“What kind?” he pressed. Logan hated drilling her with questions when she could hardly focus on anything except heaving. She now had an empty stomach, and her dry-heaving was going to lead her to dehydration if she did not stop soon.

“Peanut butter…jelly,” she whispered, not able to speak any louder.

“Anything else? Did you drink anything?”

Rogue’s eyes widened when the realization hit her. “Milk.”

Logan growled. Rogue had drunk milk that had either expired or was left out of the refrigerator for a long period of time. He knew she was smart enough to check expiration dates, as Rogue was reasonable that way. Logan began to mentally go over all the names and faces of those who lived in the mansion. He was relatively sure it was one of the brats, rather than a teacher, that had harmed his Rogue.




The night before, Bobby came downstairs for a midnight snack. On the counter sat a carton of milk. It felt semi-cool to the touch, and the expiration date marked on the package was still a good week away. Not wanting to be wasteful, Bobby gave the carton a small chill with the aid of his powers, cooling the milk to a refrigerator-equivalent temperature. He placed it back in the refrigerator.

Satisfied with his good deed, Bobby grabbed his slice of apple pie and headed back to his room.




Scott had just left his classroom downstairs. He had stayed up late preparing his lesson plans for the next three weeks. It was good for him to have something to occupy his mind, but there were only so many things he could do before he would run out of distractions. And then his thoughts would inevitably go to her…

As he walked past the door to the downstairs bathroom, he heard Rogue’s worse-for-wear voice growling, “It’s all your damn fault!”

Scott knew he should not eavesdrop on the young woman’s private conversation, but curiosity got the better of him.

“My fault?” Logan incredulously retorted.

Alarms went off in Scott’s mind. Rogue and Logan were close, and after Jean died, the two had grown closer than ever. Scott had always been worried about their close relationship that was beyond friendship. They had a level of intimacy that simply could not be labeled. What if he had been wrong about them? What if Rogue--sweet, innocent, 20-year-old Rogue--was having a…a sexual relationship with…him! With Logan!

Scott’s heart began to pound in his ears. Logan was trouble where women were concerned. He was the type who could and would have any woman, at any time, any place. What if after Jean’s death he moved on to younger, more innocent, untouchable pastures?

“You did this to me!” Rogue argued, rushing the words out of her mouth when she felt the urge to heave return. Scott heard Rogue throwing-up, and immediately put two and two together.

Logan had gotten Rogue pregnant.

“I didn’t make you do it!”

Rogue took a few moments to get control of her body again. “You…you always made me do it! And now look where it’s gotten me!”

Scott was seeing red, or more red than usual. He could not listen to another second of this. Logan was scum, a menace to the entire school. He was a liability and he had to go. At this point, Scott did not care what Xavier had to say about it.

After a fuming Scott had stormed away from the door, Logan responded to Rogue. “You’re the one who always wants to drink with me--”

“And you’re the one who always makes me settle for milk instead of alcohol. I used to never drink milk until you got me in the habit of drinking it--”

“I didn’t force you to drink it today!” Logan sighed dramatically. “I can just touch you and you’ll be great in no time--”

“No! This is my problem…”

Rogue’s chills had gotten under control for a few moments, but the shakes suddenly returned, and she had barely gotten her head over the porcelain when the heaving returned. “Asshole,” she sputtered.

Logan stopped rubbing her back long enough to give her a few supportive pats on the arm.




Scott expected Jubilee and Kitty to be out past curfew, so when he opened the door to the bedroom they shared with Rogue, he was shocked to see the two forms sleeping peacefully in their beds.

Somehow, despite her snoring, Jubilee managed to jump up in bed, as alert as someone who had been awake for hours. “Dude, either come or go, but shut that door,” she said in her normal voice, the loudness disturbing Kitty.

“Sorry,” Scott apologized, stepping back outside the room.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jubilee yelped, charging after Scott. She jerked the door wide open just as he was shutting it. “I know you didn’t come in here this time of night just to say ‘sorry.’ What’s up, fearless leader?”

Kitty came to stand behind Jubilee, groggily rubbing her eyes as she attempted to focus on the figure standing in the rather brightly illuminated hallway.

Scott battled his conscience for a moment. This was Rogue’s privacy he was meddling in, but he did have her best interests at heart. As a professional, a teacher and an X-Man, he should not discuss private issues with third parties. Discussing this issue with Jubilee would be the same as taking out a full page ad in every newspaper in the nation.

Conscience be damned. Scott shoved his hands in his pockets. “Has Rogue been behaving…strange? Lately?” he asked, casually adding, “at all?” with a shrug. Scott mentally cursed himself as soon as he had said the words. In Jubilee’s eyes, he could see her mind shifting gears.

“No,” Jubilee slowly answered. “But something is up,” she stated, pondering which method would be the most effective for getting the one known as Cyclops to spill everything he knew.

“Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?” Scott questioned.

“Nah, she’s still drooling after Logan,” Kitty provided, clearing the sleep out of her throat after speaking.

Jubilee shot Kitty a dirty look over her shoulder, telling the exhausted young woman to essentially ‘shut-up and go to bed.’ Kitty yawned a fake yawn and wandered back to her bed. Jubilee returned her full attention to Scott. She had on her game face, clearly showing Scott that she would neither confirm nor deny anything that was either extremely juicy gossip or would jeopardize Rogue’s personal life.

Jubilee half expected more of Twenty Questions with Scott, but he stood there, a scowl on his boyishly handsome face. “What’s up, man? You’re freaking me out here,” Jubilee said, becoming more and more concerned for Rogue with each second. Scott was typically not one to take something so personally. Even more disturbing was that Scott was never one to trip over his own tongue. He was always an eloquent speaker, yet on this night, he was stuttering and mumbling.

Scott looked down the hallway, afraid that either Rogue or Logan would come around and find him. Jubilee, sensing his concern, backed up, opening the door wider. “Come on in,” she said. Scott had never crossed the line by entering students’ bedrooms so late at night, but this was a serious issue. He only hoped he did not regret his decision to bring Jubilee into the situation.




A few moments after Scott entered the bedroom and shut the door, Logan, with Rogue in his arms, went up to his bedroom. He placed the exhausted young woman on his bed before shutting the door and locking it. The last thing he needed was Ole One Eye seeing something and taking in the wrong way.

Logan fetched a cool washcloth from his bathroom and a pair of leather gloves from the dresser. He sat down on the bed next to Rogue, who was as close to being asleep as she could be, given her state. She had finally finished heaving, and now the only thing left for Logan to do for her was to stay by her side as she slept the food poisoning off.

He could tell by the harsh flush on her paler than usual cheeks that her fever was still running high. Logan gently pressed the cool washcloth to her face and neck.




“I can’t believe Rogue’s…” Kitty could not finish the statement. A distressed look haunted her delicate face. She and Jubilee sat facing one another on the floor of their bedroom, each girl leaning her back against her respective bed.

“Pregnant, preggers, knocked up, bun in the oven, parasite infected, baby on board, precious cargo, shot with a pellet gun, a prize in the Crackerjack box, filled with mutated little Logan soldiers--”

“I get the picture!” Kitty exclaimed. “It’s just so…sad. I mean, poor Rogue’s gonna have to do this alone when Logan leaves…”

“He’s not leaving,” Jubilee insisted. “Logan’s a runner, straight up, but he got a big sense of that macho male honor. He’s not ditching the mother of his child--”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.” Jubilee huffed in frustration, and then closed her almond-shaped eyes in reflection. This was a shock for all of them, but she could only imagine what poor Rogue was going through. She opened her eyes, and her face was adorned with a newfound confidence. “We have to be there for Rogue. For Rogue and Logan. Maybe if we show them we support them together, you know, the whole family unit thing, that maybe we can…I don’t know. It can show them we’re there for them and we’re happy for them…that this is a good thing…?”

Kitty considered Jubilee’s logic, the fact that there was actually some logic to Jubilee’s scheme taking her by surprise. There was a first time for everything.

“But what if it backfires? What if they don’t see this as a good thing? What if this spooks them, or what if they get mad that we made some big deal out of it before they could even let the news sink in, or let alone announce it?”

Kitty had made some reasonable points. Jubilee pursed her lips and crossed her arms. For once, she actually had a dilemma that was truly worthy of pondering.




Logan came downstairs at seven in the morning, later than usual. He typically was plagued with nightmares, and as a side effect, could not get much sleep. He would often find himself sitting in solitude, or with Rogue, when the sun rose.

Last night, however, Logan got no sleep at all--not that he objected to it. Rogue was his first concern. Her fever had gone down a few hours after he took her to bed, and she seemed to have drifted off into a peaceful sleep soon after.

First and foremost, Logan removed the bad milk from the refrigerator and proceeded to pour the soured liquid down the sink drain before discarding the carton.

He then poured himself a cup of coffee, and after taking a sip, made a face. Scott, still in his eternal, post-Alkali Lake self-absorbed depression, had fixed the coffee. Logan poured the offensive liquid down the sink drain as well.

He was getting two glasses of water when Jubilee and Kitty entered the kitchen. Kitty flushed and looked as if she wanted to flee the scene, which did not shock Logan. The girl was rather skittish around him, but she was always polite and sincere. Jubilee and her jacket that was so yellow that it could be seen from orbit, however…

“Mornin’, Wolvie,” Jubilee cheerfully said, smiling at her defense instructor with a mischievous twinkle.

Logan grumbled in response.

“Have you seen Rogue this morning?” she asked.

Logan played dumb. “Nope.” The last thing he and Rogue needed was for loud-mouth Jubilee to misconstrue something completely innocent.

“Funny…she never came in last night. And I thought she was supposed to be hanging out here all night. I can’t imagine where she could be.” Jubilee eyed the coffee pot on the other side of Logan.

“Allow me,” he all too kindly offered, pouring her a cup of the foul liquid.

Logan slid the mug toward the youth, and she held it in her hands, smelling it for a moment. “Who’s the other one for?” she asked, referring to the two glasses of water sitting on the counter. Logan, who was putting some bread and crackers on a plate, did not dignify her with an answer. He loaded the two glasses and the plate on a tray.

“Drink up, yellow,” he said, carrying the tray out of the kitchen.




Logan was about to go up the stairs when Scott came down, still wearing his X-Men uniform from when he did his early morning Danger Room workout.

“Slim,” Logan greeted semi-civilly.

“Logan,” Scott grumbled through clinched teeth.

Before Scott could bring up the issue of Rogue, Logan was already on his way up the stairs.

As Scott entered the kitchen, he stopped, realization smacking him in the face. He jerked around. “Who the hell is that for?” he asked no one, recalling that he had seen Logan carrying a tray of food up the stairs.

Scott heard the sound of liquid being spewed out of a mouth in the kitchen. “Daaamn!” Logan smiled to himself, realizing that Jubilee had finally taken a sip of the offensive-tasting coffee.




Rogue began to stir as the daylight streamed through the curtains and onto her face. She groaned as she attempted to roll over. Everything on her, every muscle and every microscopic particle that created her being, ached. At least she did not want to die as she had the night before. Food poisoning was one experience she never wanted to have again, and she would not wish it on even her worse enemy.

She managed to lift her head, and when she did, she noticed she was not in her own bed. Rogue was in Logan’s room. A slight chill ran over her body, one that was completely unlike the painful chills from the night before. This was a chill of cold. Rogue laid her hand on her stomach, and that was when she realized her clothes, save her bra and panties, had been removed. She surveyed her surroundings and saw that all of her garments had been placed on the dresser across the room.

The door knob rattled, and when Rogue looked toward it, she saw Logan entering the room with a tray in hand. He balanced the tray long enough to shut and lock the door behind him.

“You look better,” he said.

“I feel better,” she declared, her voice raw and aching. “I felt like death last night.”




Scott approached the bedroom. He gently turned the knob, not wanting to disturb the two who were hiding out in the room unless he could actually get inside the room to lecture them. The door was locked--not surprisingly--so he would have to settle for eavesdropping, again. Even though he was not Catholic, Scott made a mental note to find a priest to whom he could confess. His vision already gave him enough red to see without him needing to look at hell for the rest of eternity.

“The worse part should be over,” Logan told Rogue, pulling the bed covers over Rogue to warm her.

“I’m glad, because I swear I am never getting in this mess ever again. I can’t take it.”

Logan chuckled. “I’ll remind you of that next time you want to do it.”

Rogue giggled, abruptly stopping as a coughing fit took over. Logan brought her a glass of water.

Scott stepped away from the door. He did not need more verbal confirmation. What he needed was a way to get rid of Logan before Professor Xavier returned.




Scott, freshly showered and dressed in a red polo shirt and tan Dockers, sat in Xavier’s office, staring out the window. His arms were folded across his chest, and his stiffened jaw illustrated his determination.

He could always send Logan out on a “lead” in pursuit of his unknown past. But he would come back eventually.

He could always ask Logan to leave. But he would not agree to that simply because Scott asked.

He could always kill Logan. But Professor Xavier would frown upon it. As would the authorities. Damn those rules of ethics and morals.

Scott chided himself, ordering himself to be realistic about this. First, he had to examine Logan’s personality.

Stubborn. Cocky. Annoying. Babe-magnet. Strong. Prideful. Skilled. Claws. Honorable.

The proverbial light bulb went off over Scott’s head. He had to play the honor card with Logan. Logan, despite his attempts to steal Jean from Scott, always still managed to maintain a sense of honor. If Scott challenged that honor and made Logan realize for himself just how unsuitable his relationship with Rogue was, Logan would no doubt run.

Scott jumped out of his chair. He had two hours to get rid of Logan before Professor Xavier returned home.




Rogue finally felt well enough to return to her room. She was probably going to stay in bed most of the day until she got her strength back, but still, she preferred her room to Logan’s. Fewer questions would arise if Rogue was in the comfort of her own bed.

Wearing her skirt and red top from the night before, Rogue carried her sheer top and heels with her across the hall to her room.

It was Saturday, and most of the students were either outside or at the mall. Luckily no one was around to see Rogue changing rooms.




Outside, sitting in one of the chairs on the pool patio, Logan blew a small cloud of cigar smoke in the air. The gusty wind quickly dismantled the almost perfectly circular cloud.

“Care for a match?” Scott, once again dressed in his X-Men uniform, asked Logan.

Logan looked up at the team leader with squinted eyes. “Care to have a bad day?” Logan asked as his answer. He stood up, motioning for the younger man to lead the way back inside the house.




In one of the school gyms, as opposed to the Danger Room, Logan, now also clad in his X-Men uniform, and Scott stood face to face about ten feet apart. “No powers,” Scott said, clarifying the rules. Logan responded with the raising of one eyebrow. “Or other alterations,” Scott amended. Logan, taking offense, flicked up his middle claw on his right hand. “You know, Logan, that one gets old after a while.”

“Well, if I stick it up your ass one day, it’ll be new again,” Logan assured him.

Scott ignored the jibe. “Ready?”

Scott received his answer in the form of Logan charging at him at full speed. Scott jumped aside just as Logan was preparing to tackle him. Logan’s left arm flew wildly to the side, his fist belting Scott in the cheek and barely missing his visor. Logan threw himself to the ground and did a round kick, effectively knocking Scott’s legs out from under him.

From the floor, Scott kicked upward at Logan, impacting him below the belt. “Now it’s personal,” Logan grunted.

“As opposed to all the times before when it was for fun…” Scott jumped back to his feet and punched Logan in the eye, momentarily throwing Logan off his game. Scott ignored the immense pain in his hand from hitting the Adamantium-lined man. Scott launched a kick into Logan’s abdomen.

As Logan doubled over in pain, Scott put his plan into motion. “So what’s with you and Rogue?” he asked, planting an elbow at the base of Logan’s neck.

Logan fell to the ground. “None of your damn business, boy,” he snarled. Logan jumped back to his feet.

“What could you possibly have to offer her? The honor of being married to Wolverine, King of the Cage?” Scott threw a punch at Logan, but Logan caught it. He tightened his grip on the younger man’s hand, and jerking Scott’s arm backward--just shy of inflicting damage--Logan momentarily incapacitated his opponent. Logan head butted the back of Scott’s head, disorienting the young man. Logan let go of Scott’s arm, allowing him to fall to the floor.

“Rogue’s a big girl. She can make up her own mind.”

Scott, tiring quickly, got back to his feet. He and Logan paced in a circle, each man rigidly alert and ready to pounce the other. “You’re right. She’s a girl. You’re her first crush. And you’re leading her on. When she figures out what else is out there, you’re history.”

“Gee, bub, you really do care. I’m touched.”

Scott stopped moving and stood straight, and Logan followed his example. “Whatever you think you can get from her, think again. Rogue can and will do better--”

“Let me guess, you’ll see to it?” Logan asked, his face lit up with a smirk.




Feeling far better than she expected, Rogue had the urge to go out for a walk around the grounds. It was such a gorgeous day, with a steady breeze, bright blue skies, and zero clouds for as far as the eye could see. She felt she could use the fresh air and exercise.

She looked at the clock. Logan was probably either outside being a slacker as he did on some Saturdays, or he was in the gym taking out his stress on a punching bag as he did on other Saturdays.

Rogue, dressed in a pair of jeans, a short-sleeved maroon top, and a pair of her long black gloves, left her room in search of Logan.




Scott was getting tired of this. He obviously was not pressing the right buttons. Any other time, Logan would have lost his temper by now. It figured Scott would catch him on a “happy” day. “I’m not going to let her settle for…you of all people. She’d be better off with Bobby…hell, maybe even John or Magneto. Rogue needs a real man, not a beer-drinking, cigar smoking, Canadian, white trash, cage fighting amnesiac with metal claws and a hot temper.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being Canadian, you little dick!” Logan leapt forward, as did Scott. The two met in a head-on collision, each one trying to get a grip on the other as to wrestle the other man to the ground. Logan went for Scott’s visor, effectively knocking the device to the ground. Scott had managed to close his eyes before the visor was completely removed.

The two eventually ended up in a pile on the floor. Fists flew.




When the elevator doors opened on the gym level, Rogue immediately heard the sound of grunting. Puzzled, and slightly concerned, she quickly made her way to the entrance of the gym.

“Oh my God,” Rogue yelped, her hand immediately jerking up to cover her gaping mouth.

The two men struggling on the floor did not notice her. Scott, the slightly smaller of the two men, had Logan pinned to the ground. Scott would violently punch Logan, blood slinging from Scott’s fist and from Logan’s face, and then Logan would punch Scott in return, blood once again flying. Scott had managed to maintain control of himself by keeping his eyes shut, no matter what happened or what pain he felt. He was acting on instinct, using his other senses as best as possible.

Rogue took a few moments to get over her shock. The men still did not notice her. She ran to where they lay attacking one another. Rogue grabbed Scott by the back of the uniform, throwing him off of Logan, but he quickly attempted to resume his attack. Before he could, Rogue kicked him in the abdomen, knocking him back. The already hurting team leader grunted as he fell flat on his back a foot or so from Logan.

Logan lay still on the ground, but Rogue was not going to let him get out of the situation that easily. She reached down to give him a helping hand up, and when he took her gloved hand, she roughly jerked him to his feet. Before he could fully get his balance, she wadded up her fist and punched him in the face, impacting him in the nose and sending him right back to the floor.

“What the hell are you two doing?” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Grunts and grumbled accusations were heard, but no clear answers were given.

Rogue snatched up Scott’s visor, and kneeling down next to him, she helped him put it on over his bruised eyes. She stood, arms folded.

“You broke my nose!” Logan accused, surprised that Rogue had the ability in her.

“Heal it,” she barked, not in the mood for any nonsense.

Rogue put her hands on her hips and waited for answers, but all she got was Scott wiping blood off of his hands and bruised face, and Logan whining (in a macho way, of course) to himself as his open wounds began to close. He wiped the small trail of blood from his once again unbroken nose off his upper lip.

“I’m not feeling very well, so I’m not sticking around. If you two want to beat each other into a pulp to prove your manhood, then be my guest.” With that, Rogue left the gym. The smell of blood was starting to nauseate her.




Rogue exited the elevator and was heading for the kitchen to get some food for her still rather empty stomach when Logan and Scott breathlessly came charging out of the stairwell a few feet away.

Logan was able to compose himself the fastest, so he did the talking. “It wasn’t what it looked like,” he insisted.

Rogue stopped walking and looked back at the two men. Scott had one hand propped up against the wall to support himself. She looked at Scott’s bloodied and abused face. “Okay. What was it?” she asked. “Cause it sure looked like you were having some macho, ball-swinging contest.”

Logan considered it for a minute. “Alright, so it was what it looked like.”

Rogue rolled her eyes and resumed walking. Logan fell in step behind her, and Scott dragged himself away from the wall to go with them.

“We really need to talk about this,” Scott said once he had finally caught his breath. “The three of us.” Rogue and Logan both turned to look at him.

“About what?” Rogue asked, sincerely baffled as to what it had to do with her.

“Let’s talk somewhere a little more private,” Scott said, looking around the hallway.

“I was just on my way to get a snack out of the kitchen…”

“Too public,” Scott argued. “Anyone could walk in on us.” Scott nodded his head down the hallway a few doors. “Let’s try the dining room.” Scott walked ahead of Logan and Rogue, and when they reached the dining room, he opened the door for Rogue.

When she walked in, Kitty lost her grip on the pink balloon she was blowing up. The balloon flew out of her grasp and sputtered around the room like a torpedo. Jubilee, who was about to chastise Kitty for goofing around when they had little time to prepare things, caught sight of Rogue, Logan, and Scott (looking less than his best) at the door.

“Ugh…surprise?” Jubilee said. All of the students at the school, as well as Nightcrawler, were in the large dining room putting up pink and blue decorations. Nightcrawler was hanging upside down from the ceiling by his tail as he helped a sour-faced Bobby hang a banner that read “Congrats Rogue and Logan!”

Logan and Scott were unable to speak. Rogue’s still sickly pale skin reddened. “Jubes, what’s going on?”

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Kitty said from a few feet behind a stunned to speechlessness Jubilee.

“For…?”

“The baby,” Jubilee said, finally able to speak.

“What baby?” Rogue and Logan asked at the same time.

“Rogue’s baby,” Jubilee said, addressing Logan. Logan’s face darkened, and his jaw tightened.

“Rogue’s baby,” he repeated, addressing Rogue. “Who’s the father?” he asked as calmly as possible, the words leaving a horrible taste in his mouth. He never thought he would be in this situation. Worse than that, he never would have expected Rogue to lie about something so serious.

At that time, Professor Xavier and Storm made their presence known by finally entering the room. They had seen Rogue, Logan, and Scott enter the dining room and had heard everything from outside. Xavier felt it was now time to intervene in case things turned distasteful.

Scott, like Rogue and Logan, was oblivious to the presence of Storm and the Professor behind them. “You have the nerve to ask her that you son--”

“Piss off,” Logan hissed.

“Language, Logan,” ordered a commanding voice behind Logan. Logan turned his head over his shoulder ever so slightly to acknowledge Xavier.

“Yours,” Jubilee daringly stated to Logan. “You’re the father.”

“Impossible,” Logan immediately responded, shaking his head vehemently. “Well,” he added, looking down at Rogue with a cocky smirk, “not impossible…”

Scott groaned and prepared to make a snide remark about Logan when Rogue interrupted, saying, “There is no baby!”

The color washed from the faces of Jubilee, Kitty, and Scott, while the others in the room looked at one another in bewilderment.

“Rogue, chica, please tell me you didn’t…” Rogue’s face was blank. She was not sure what Jubilee was talking about, so she shook her head. “Oh no, you didn’t have to do that…we would have helped you through this, and changed diapers, and--”

Realization finally dawned on Rogue. “No, no, Jubes, no, I didn’t have an abortion. There isn’t a baby.”

Kitty gasped, and Jubilee seemed to read Kitty’s mind. “You had a miscarriage…”

“No,” Rogue insisted. “There never was a baby. I’m not, and never have been, pregnant.”

“Whew!” Jubilee exclaimed with a laugh, while everyone else in the room still looked around in confusion. “So, it’s just a false alarm. I guess that’ll teach you and Logan to be more careful next time you--” Kitty’s hand clamped over Jubilee’s mouth.

“I think we should discuss this in private,” Xavier announced. Storm motioned for everyone to follow her. Scott, Rogue, and Logan stayed behind. Jubilee and Kitty gripped hands and tried to sneak out with the pack of students, but Logan moved to stand in front of them, blocking their short bodies with his large one.

Once the others were out of the room, Xavier requested that everyone take a seat at the table. He reasoned that if everyone sat in a civil manner, civility would be maintained. At least that was what he was hoping for.

“Rogue, would you please tell me what is going on here.”

Rogue nodded once and pursed her lips. “I’ve been sick--someone left the milk out and then put it back in the refrigerator, and this is really the first time I’ve been downstairs since yesterday. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m betting Logan does…” Rogue cast a long, unblinking glance at Logan. To Rogue, it was obvious that he was pouting. To everyone else, Logan simply seemed to be in an extremely foul mood.

“Scott asked me if I wanted to spar, and the next thing I know, he’s vowing to protect Rogue’s honor and her future while he was slapping at me like a girl.” Logan narrowed his eyes at Scott.

“Scott?” Professor Xavier prompted.

Scott shifted in his seat. “I heard Logan and Rogue talking last night about her being pregnant, and after that, they hid away in Logan’s bedroom for the night. This morning, I heard them talking again about her morning sickness…”

Rogue smiled to herself. She looked to Logan, and his head was dropped. His eyes were closed as he absently rubbed his neck, smirking to himself all the while.

“You defended my honor?” Rogue asked Scott. Scott shrugged and nodded. “That’s really sweet,” she said, standing up and walking to where Scott sat on the other side of the table. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, hugging the beat man. He did not react to this, as his face still held the scowl he reserved for Logan.

It was Logan’s turn to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“It seems as though we have all the pieces,” Xavier began, “but the puzzle has yet to be completed.” Everyone knew what had happened, but Xavier wanted them to admit it and apologize to one another.

“Allow me,” Jubilee said, speaking for the first time in the private meeting. “Rogue got sick. Mr. Summers took it the wrong way. He tried to beat the cra--er--crud,” she amended at Xavier’s look, “outta Logan, and we wasted a lotta money on cake.”

“There’s cake?” Kitty whispered in Jubilee’s ear. Kitty had been in charge of decorations while Jubilee had handled the food and presents situation.

“Now that we’re all clear on this,” Logan began, “can we get back to our regularly scheduled superheroes’ day off?”

“I’m still unclear about one thing,” Xavier began, addressing Jubilee and Kitty. Under his intense scrutiny the girls sank lower into their chairs. “How did you become involved in this?”

“Mr. Summers--” Kitty began, before she was interrupted by Jubilee.

“Mr. Summers seemed bothered, so we did some investigating to see what was wrong. Like Mr. Summers, we drew our own wrong conclusions.”

Scott hoped his face did not advertise just how surprised he was by Jubilee covering for him. Xavier probably knew how Scott involved Jubilee and Kitty, but he was not showing it.

“Well then, I guess we have all learned our lessons,” Xavier said, looking more at Scott and Logan than anyone else. “And if everyone agrees to get along from now on, we can have cake for desert tonight,” he said, obviously humoring the immature attitudes of the two men who sat shooting death glares at one another from across the table. “Miss Lee, can you see to it that the cake is properly cared for, as to avoid any additional cases of food poisoning?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jubilee answered the professor, quickly correcting herself by saying, “Yes, sir, Professor.” Jubilee and Kitty scurried out the door without a second thought. Xavier left a few moments later.

Logan, Rogue, and Scott all stood looking at one another. Scott headed for the door, and Rogue quickly jogged to rendezvous with him. “Just so you know,” she said in a whisper, her back turned to Logan, “you don’t have to worry about me…or me with Logan. I’m smart enough to make the right decisions.”

Scott tried to smile as best as possible given his bloodied, swollen lips. “I know that, and I’m sorry for thinking so little of you. It’s just that I care about you. You’re a very special girl. Young woman,” he corrected, squeezing her opera glove-clad hand.

Rogue smiled at him, and then turned to share that smile with Logan, who stood a few feet behind her. With that, she left the two men. Scott was about to follow behind Rogue when Logan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I…appreciate you looking out for her,” Logan forced out, “but you don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”

Scott took a step closer to the slightly taller man. “But who’ll protect her from you?”

Logan did not have to even think about that answer. “She will. Bub,” he added as an afterthought. Logan gripped Scott’s shoulder tighter than a friendly gesture, and Scott returned the favor by patting Logan’s upper arm with a hit that impacted harder than any manly gesture of camaraderie.

With their mutual dislike of one another reaffirmed and guaranteed to last for a long time to come, the two men parted company and went their separate ways in the mansion.




Scott sat propped up against the windowsill behind his desk in his classroom. The only illumination in the room came from the small desk light.

“Mr. Summers,” Jubilee said. Scott turned to find the girl standing in front of his desk holding a plate with a more-than-generous size of cake on it. “I’m sorry…I just thought you might want some cake.”

“Thanks, Jubilee,” he said, turning back to the window. His reflection in the window made his swollen cheeks and lips look even worse. Scott was always grateful for his glasses and visor, as they made seeing possible for him, but on this night he was especially grateful that his glasses covered his bruised eyes. The sorrow that had filled his eyes since Jean’s death left little room for other incarnations of pain.

Jubilee sat the cake down on his desk. She walked over to where he was standing and joined him in staring out at nothingness. “You did the right thing. You know, coming to me.”

“I crossed the line, and worse than that, I betrayed Rogue’s trust…that is, after I invaded her privacy.” Scott’s face was blank, and his hidden eyes did not even have to be seen in order to betray the burden that he had been carrying ever since first meeting Logan. The weight of that burden had only quadrupled since losing Jean.

“We all love Rogue, and you did what was best for her. You involved the others who love her. There’s no way she can be upset with you for that. I think she thinks it was really great of you, actually. She looks up to you, and it means a lot to her that you care about her this much.” Jubilee hesitated, sighing to herself. “Listen, we’re all the same here, and we all need to be a family and look out for one another. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Scott smiled a small smile and turned his head to Jubilee. “You shouldn’t have covered for me, though.”

“Yeah, but I had to. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“For the record, I confessed everything to Professor Xavier. Not surprisingly, he already knew what happened.”

“Are you in trouble?” she asked, her face scrunching with worry.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Scott turned away from Jubilee to look at the cake she brought him. “Did you leave any for anyone else?”

She giggled. “We have plenty.” More solemnly, she said, “If you’d join us like you used to, you’d know that.”

Scott nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “Well, I don’t think I can eat all that cake by myself. Did you happen to bring an extra fork?”




Around midnight that night, Rogue was sitting outside on the porch swing that several of the students had made for Scott’s shop class. She was wearing a long-sleeved light blue nightgown, her long white gloves covering most of her exposed arms. The night had a cold chill to it, but she was not particularly bothered by it.

For some reason, Rogue could not sleep. Usually dreams kept her from sleeping, but tonight it seemed that an absence of nightmares had induced her insomnia. Still, the peace and quiet of the campus’ countryside grounds was able to make her feel at least a little rested.

“Thinking of what we’re gonna name our baby?” Logan asked. Rogue turned and saw him shutting the mansion door behind him. He was barefooted, wearing his jeans and a white t-shirt, his jacket over top of it. He soon joined her at the swing, sitting down carefully. “I take it that if this thing hasn’t fallen apart yet, it won’t anytime soon.”

“That’s my theory. I think they did a good job with it,” Rogue commented, running her hand across the smooth wood of the armrest. Rogue was quiet for a moment as she and Logan sat in silent company, gently swinging back and forth. “Logan.”

“What?”

“No…our baby’s name,” she said with a sly smile. “Girl or boy, we’d name it Logan.”

Logan huffed, a cocky smile inching up on his face. “No way in hell, Kid.”

“You’d like that, admit it!” she urged.

“Talking about this is wrong.”

“Babies?”

“Yeah.”

“Talking about babies is wrong?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It is.” Logan looked away from where he was staring straight ahead into the dark night only to be met with Rogue’s amused yet perplexed smile prompting an explanation. “It’s just…if I ever…if someone…a woman…” Rogue’s amused look was begging to break into a full laugh, but she bit her lip to fight the urge. “If…”

“If you ever are ready to have a baby with a woman…” she offered.

“Yeah…if that happens, it should happen…naturally, at its own time. This whole ultra neo-modern family planning crap is…”

“Crap.”

“Crap. Yeah.” Rogue was smiling a broad, toothy smile, and Logan’s awkwardness turned into pure embarrassment. “A baby should be made out of love, not an appointment in someone’s desk calendar.” After he had said the words, Logan worried if it would give the appearance of being overly sentimental. He had a reputation to protect, and his secret perspective could put a serious hindrance on how people saw him.

“But talking about these things is the only way to have a healthy relationship,” Rogue argued reasonably. “And planning tends to take some of the stress out of it.”

“Yeah, well, when Hallmark comes out with a card that says, ‘Hey darlin’, wanna make a baby?’ let me know.”

Logan dropped his head a little, the shadows working in cooperation with his sideburns to conceal his face from view. “Logan,” he repeated, brushing it off with a laugh. “Only egomaniacs and pansies name their kids after themselves. It’s something One Eye would do.”

Rogue laughed. “When are you two ever gonna get over this adolescent grudge match thing? Scott’s a good guy.”

Logan grumbled something that, when interpreted from his macho language of grunts and growls, translated into something similar to “whatever.”

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, noticing Rogue’s attire for the first time.

“Nah.”

Logan took off his jacket and offered to her, and when she shook her head, declining his proffered jacket, he gave her a harsh look that said he would make her wear the jacket even if he had to force it on her. She gave in before it came to that and agreed to put on the jacket. Logan held it out for Rogue as she slipped her arms into the large sleeves.

“I forgot…our…anniversary,” Logan said awkwardly. He had never had an anniversary with anyone that he could remember, so this was all new and strange to him.

“I know,” Rogue said, sympathetically. “It’s okay, really. It’s just some silly thing I--”

“But I did get you something.” Rogue’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise, and a dreamy smile spread across her face. “Late, mind you…”

“I’ll let it slide, this time,” Rogue said in a mock serious voice.

Logan pulled a chain from around his neck and put it over Rogue’s head. He lifted up her hair as she straightened the chain and took a good look at the object on it. “‘Wolverine and Rogue, July 14, 2000,’” she read off the half-size dog tag.

Logan produced the other half of the dog tag from under his shirt. His said the exact same as hers. “It was either this or one of those sissy broken heart necklaces.”

“This is better than any of those sissy broken heart necklaces,” Rogue said, beaming. “Thank you, Logan. I love,” Rogue excitedly began, “…it,” she almost whispered, grasping the dog tag firmly.

Logan kissed her forehead quickly, before her powers could kick in, but Rogue savored the contact regardless. “I’m glad you love…it,” Logan said, knowingly.




As Rogue lay in her bed, she fiddled with the dog tag that hung around her neck. It was special in more than one way. Not only had Logan kept half of the tag for himself, but he also wore it constantly as he had the dog tag he had given to her when he left for Alkali Lake. Plus, it was an acknowledgement that Rogue was special to him, as was the date they met.

For Rogue, the tag was symbolic of her relationship with Logan--of their anniversary. It also represented what she referred to as her “annibirthary”--that is, the day Rogue, not Marie, was born.

No matter what happened to either of them, they would always have the tag as a reminder of the other. Neither of them would ever be alone again.




END