Second thoughts?
Try twenty-second thoughts.
What the hell was I playing at? And what the holy fuck was I doing? Throwing my entire fucking life away at a chance to fuck a girl half - a third… hell, possibly a quarter of my fucking age, who with my luck wants a well chaperoned kiss and hand-holding in the park. But I probably won’t even get that far. She’ll knock me out with one touch and by the time I come around I’ll be just in time to grow scales and die a horribly painful death.
Why?
Cause I felt sorry for her once and made a stupid-ass promise?
Cause she grew up and no one called and told me about it?
Cause I’m only attracted to women I can’t have and by God if I can, I will?
Cause I’m a pig-headed, stubborn ass who couldn’t see reason if it were a snake in front of him?
Cause in a closed and locked room, whispered into a void, I think I might be in love with her?
Second thoughts? A few, thanks.
Then, of course, I drew myself back to that first thought.
Marie.
Sweet Marie: strong and weak, broken and rebuilt, innocent still, yet so old inside. Living for years with me and Magneto in there even if she can discern who’s who these days. And now, that other woman, who maybe she can’t so well. And maybe the line between Rogue and Ms. Marvel will get sharper and sharper over time, but Marie ain’t there yet.
Beautiful Marie: tender and caring, she’s still not used to lack of touch. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s plenty used to protecting people from her skin, and she’ll jump like a jack rabbit if you get to close, but that don’t mean she don’t want it, crave it all the time. I can tell when I hold her, stroke her through the fabric, kiss her hair. It’s like no one else does it, or at least not enough. It’s enough to make you want to skewer people.
Rebellious Marie: growing up is hard enough without all the extra benefits of being a mutant. Then give the poor girl a few other personalities to deal with, least of which is mine, and you have got a volatile combination. Why am I the only one who finds it irresistible? And no, I do not count the thief.
Second thoughts? Maybe. But I still got that first thought stuck in my head, hard. And since Xavier isn’t here yet, those second thoughts are mine alone.
I gave Jean my best lopsided grin and stuck out my arm for her needle. “Nope,” I said, answering her and barely feeling the syringe.
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