There she goes
There she goes again
Chasing down my lane
And I just can't contain
This feeling that remains...
(The La’s ~ There She Goes)
Logan hates these bars. They are too crowded, too noisy, too many teenagers. And isn’t it just his luck that he picked a Friday night.
He sits at the bar, trying to ignore the loud, thumping music that threatens to split his skull, and nurses his third beer that evening. He was approached by some folks that called themselves the ‘X-Men’ earlier that day, and if only he was able to, he’d get royally drunk just to get over the junk they kept spouting off. And if he was honest with himself – he has nothing better to do.
Surrounded by dozens of noisy, tipsy teenagers, he focuses his attention on the bar. The beer isn’t strong enough, never is, but he keeps drinking, just to be doing something. And just as he is about to order his fourth bottle, someone bumps into him from behind.
Growling in annoyance, he casts a glance over his shoulder – and freezes.
Looking behind him, he meets with dark brown eyes, eyes he knows immediately he will drown in if he doesn’t tear his gaze away. Eyes that tie a man down.
“Oh, sorry, mister. She’s not really with us right now.”
Her voice is soft, with a strong southern lilt to it that sends shivers down his spine. Her face, pale with a mouth made for kissing, is framed by dark hair, silken strands that would feel heavenly wrapped around his fingers.
Then he realises she is young. Very young. 20, at best. 18, more likely. His body doesn’t care, though, and he only barely resists the urge to take her right there.
She is holding on to another girl’s arm, probably the one who bumped into him. That one looks pretty drunk, a brown-haired slip of a girl. There’s a third one, Eurasian, dressed in too much yellow and with a definite tipsy flush to her cheeks.
“No problem.” His voice is rougher than he’d like, and he just can’t tear his eyes away from her.
They move drunk girl away, and as the Eurasian leads the way, his dark-eyed beauty looks over her shoulder, smiling at him a little, and his jeans are too tight for comfort all of a sudden.
He watches as they sit in a booth at the other end of the room, and if he strains his ears a little, he can hear the Eurasian’s voice over the music.
“Rogue, you so did not flirt with caveman guy over there!”
Rogue. That’s her name. A strange name, but he has to admit it suits her, somehow. She smiles calmly, sipping her drink through a straw. “Course I didn’t.”
“What was all that smiling about, then?” The drunk one.
“Yeah. You never smile at strangers.”
“Oh, come on, Jubilee. That’s not true. I smile at people all the time.”
“But not like *that*. Isn’t that true, Kitty?”
“Definitely.”
“Rogue, that was your ‘I’m gonna jump your bones first chance I get’ smile!”
He can almost feel her heat through the room as she blushes, waving her arms around with a shocked expression on her face. “Excuse me! Ah do not have such a smile!” She pouts. “And if ah did, ah sure wouldn’t smile it at random people.” Her accent thickens, and Logan knows exactly how she’d sound, purring his name...
Jubilee laughs. “Sure do and sure did on tall, dark and hairy over there.”
Now he feels heat rise to his own head, and he swiftly turns away. He hears Rogue scoff, and downs his beer in one fluid motion.
She yelps, and he looks over his shoulder again to see if there is trouble. But she’s just staring at her watch, incredulous. “Shit! We’re so busted, Cyclops is going to have my head! We were supposed to be home two frickin’ hours ago!”
His ears perk up at the name. Cyclops? Wasn’t that the one-eyed boy scout leading the X-geeks?
He watches them leave in a flurry, and his heart actually skips a beat when she turns her head at the door, looks at him, and smiles a little. Then she’s gone, and Logan turns back to his beer.
Now, where did he put that contact number?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Isn’t it horrible how music just keeps on inspiring me, and as I really need to take a break from ‘Domestic Life’, this little Plot bunny was embraced with fervour.