Story Notes:
Alternate Universe. Elements of comics, cartoon, and movies. The Mastermind in this story is actually Mastermind III. For more information, go to www.uncannyxmen.net
"Hello, my name is Kate Bryant and I'm standing here with Dr. William Preston Kroker of Pharmaceutical Technologies, also known as Pharm-Tech. For the past two years, Dr. Kroker has been working diligently with the government to find a cure for cancer. Dr. Kroker, can you tell us how your research is going?"

"Gladly, Kate. We at Pharm-Tech believe that we are on the verge to finally developing, not just a treatment, but a cure for cancer in all of its deadly forms. Our researchers have been working hard, and are very hopeful that we will have a prototype of a workable drug treatment with the next year and a half."

"Fantastic news, Doctor. A cure for cancer has been a long time in coming, it's wonderful to hear that we may be so close to winning the fight. Still, it's been tough going for you, hasn't it? What with all those rumors that have been going around about you using mutants as test subjects?"

Dr. Kroker shook his head. "Ah Kate, it's a shame that even when you're working for the benefit of millions, the few will always seek some way to discredit you. Those horrible rumors are absolutely false. And just as a gesture of good faith, I have granted Professor Charles Xavier, the champion of mutant rights, the interview he has requested."

*Click*

Doctor Kroker's face faded to black as the large monitor winked off. Across the room a blue hand clenched into a fist and yellow eyes glowed with suppressed anger.

"Humans," Mystique spat. "They lie like they breathe."

At the table across the room a woman with long auburn hair streaked with white sat behind a large table little with various automatic weapons. At the sound of Mystique's voice, she looked up from the plasma rifle she was inspecting and grinned.

"Kinda like the pot callin' the kettle black, ain't it Mama?"

Mystique turned a glare on her daughter. "Excuse me?"

Rogue took in the furious look on her mother's face and shook her head. "Nevermind.

"What have I told you about talking back to me, Rogue?" Mystique demanded.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Aw, Mama, relax. Ah was just kidding."

"Perhaps if you spent as much time on your training as you did on your sarcasm, you wouldn't be a prisoner in your own skin."

Rogue's face went deadly serious. Staring at her mother, she struggled to come up with something to say. Something that would defend her against the sting of her words. At a loss, she finally just fought back the pain at the mention of her uncontrollable skin and went back to inspecting the weapon in her hands. Mystique stood there for a few moments watching her before turning on her heel and leaving the room. As Rogue heard Mystique's footsteps fade away down the hallway, she raised the gun and looked down the scope at the door her mother had exited through.

"Bang," she said softly.



Wolverine watched as his latest employer rapidly typed in the last in a chain of commands. She was a fairly average looking woman with shoulder length black hair and black wire rimmed glasses. Well, today anyway. Wolverine happened to know what he was seeing now was not the woman's true form. His sources indicated that her true form ran more along the lines of blue skin, bright red hair, and shining yellow eyes. He was trying to remember her name, when he realized she was finishing up. Hitting the final key, the woman stared at the screen a moment before turning to face him.

"Well, Mr. Jackman, the money has been wired to your designated account. Fifty thousand dollars now, and the rest upon completion of the task. As agreed."

"That's fine . . . ?"

"Mystique," she supplied.

Wolverine nodded as he removed a cigar from his pocket. Ignoring Mystique's disapproving look, he struck a match and touched it to the end of the cigar. He took a long satisfying drag and met her eyes as he slowly exhaled the thick smoke. For a few moments, neither of them said anything. Mystique shook her head.

"My daughter will be down shortly," she said finally. "We'll have a final briefing and then you and she will rendezvous at the appointed spot tomorrow." She looked meaningfully at his cigar. "I'd appreciate it if you would cease smoking that revolting thing before she gets here. I didn't spend my life raising her just so she could die of your lousy secondhand smoke."

Wolverine stared at her for a moment, weighing how much he wanted his smoke against how much he wanted to keep his new employer happy. Finally, he gave in. Extending his hand, he ground out the cigar in his palm, watching disinterestedly as his flesh healed before his eyes. Replacing the cigar in his pocket, he turned his attention back to Mystique.

"How old is this kid again?" he asked doubtfully.

Mystique frowned. "Her name is Rogue and she is twenty." Before Wolverine could express his opinion about that, Mystique cut him off. "Do not doubt my daughter's competency, Mr. Jackman. I have raised her to be the best there is, and I know she is more than capable of holding up her end of the bargain. She has been briefed, as have you, on the objectives of this mission and she is well prepared." She met his gaze unwaveringly. "Believe me, Wolverine. If a mistake is made, it will not be by my daughter."

Wolverine didn't look convinced. "I'm not saying your daughter's gonna screw up. I'm just saying, I don't like not knowing the person who's getting my back, Mystique. If I'm going to do the job you're paying me for, I need to know I can trust her."

"So what are you saying, shugah? You wanna spend some quality time first?"

Mystique and Wolverine both stood up and turned towards the voice. Rogue was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Her eyes were set on Wolverine, sizing him up and being deliberately obvious about it. After her eyes had traveled from his head to his toes and back again, she brought her eyes back up to his. Pushing off the doorframe, she walked into the room. Wolverine watched her approach and raised an eyebrow at the sight of the plasma gun slung over her shoulder. Somehow the image of the 5'5" woman with the huge gun amused him. He chuckled. Rogue heard him and turned a scowl in his direction.

"What the Hell are you laughin' at furball?"

Wolverine almost choked. Furball? "Nothin'," he said finally.

"Rogue," Mystique broke in. "This is Mr. Jackman. He's the associate I told you about."

Wolverine stood up and walked over to Rogue, offering his hand. "Call me Wolverine, kid."

Rogue stared at his hand like it was a poisonous snake. She was having a bad day as it was and now her mother expected her to work with a caveman who had decided, without even giving her a chance, that she was a child who was just supposed to follow his lead. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're the one with the healing factor?" she asked, remembering what her mother had told her about the mercenary for hire.

"Yeah."

"You can heal from anything?" Rogue persisted.

"So far," Wolverine said slowly. Somewhere in the back of his mind a suspicion was trying to make its presence known. The girl was acting strange.

"Even a plasma gun?" Rogue asked innocently.

Too late, Wolverine eyes widened as he realized what Rogue was about to do. Instinct took over and his arm flashed out to grab the weapon just as she swung the gun off her shoulder. In one smooth motion Rogue aimed and pulled the trigger. A blast of hot plasma shot out of the gun's muzzle, hitting Wolverine square in his chest and sending him flying into the wall across the room.

"Don't call me kid," Rogue growled.

"Rogue! Stop this at once!" Mystique raged at her daughter. She moved towards Rogue as though to take her gun. Rogue lowered her weapon, but her eyes stayed on Wolverine.

"It's okay."

Mystique turned at the sound of Wolverine's raspy voice. His vocal cords were only partially healed, and his voice was hoarse as his healing factor worked to repair the burns on his chest. Mystique watched as he stood up and began walking towards Rogue. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rogue start to fidget as she noticed his steps getting steadier as his body regenerated. She sighed to herself. Judging by the dangerous glint in Wolverine's eyes, her daughter was about to learn a very important lesson about dealing with the help. As she felt Rogue's eyes turn to her for guidance, Mystique took a deep breath. Sometimes you just had to let the baby bird hit the ground before she learned how to fly. Turning her back on her daughter Mystique left the room, calling over her shoulder.

"Remember, Wolverine. Tomorrow you and my daughter will be working together. It is my preference that that plan does not change." As the door slid closed behind her mother, Rogue found herself alone with a very angry Wolverine. Turning her attention back to her rapidly healing opponent, Rogue steeled herself for anything.

"So, you're gonna pick on a kid, huh?" she stalled, using Wolverine's words against him.

Wolverine flashed his teeth in an unfriendly smile. "You're no kid."

Without another word, Wolverine lunged for her Rogue quickly tried to bring the plasma gun around again, but stare in horror as long metal claws sprung from Wolverine's hands and sliced the thick barrel off. Scrambling backwards, she turned to run, but Wolverine was too quick this time. He tackled her to the floor and pinned her beneath his body. Using his body to hold her down, he pulled his right arm back, pointing his claws at the unprotected side of her chest. Rogue sputtered, trying to draw a breath past his weight on top of her.

"You dumb bastard, you ruined mah favorite gun!" she raged. "Do you know how much those cost?"

Breathing heavily, Wolverine leaned in until his mouth was a hair's breadth away from her ear.

"Do you know how much they hurt?" he whispered.

Rogue's heart almost stopped. Suddenly, the reality of her situation hit her and she realized she was pinned beneath a man who, while he may not kill her, was certainly more than capable of making her very, very sorry. Fighting down the urge to panic, Rogue took stock of her position. Most of her body was covered by a bodysuit and her hands were pinned down at her sides. Closing her eyes tight, Rogue resorted to the only course of action left. Whipping her head to the side, she caught Wolverine with his head still down and urgently pressed her lips to his. Caught off guard, Wolverine froze in surprise. Before he could react, Rogue's skin flared to life. He had a few moments where he felt as though he were falling into a black hole and then his body grew slack.

As soon as she felt him relax, Rogue quickly shoved him off of her. As his memories threatened to drown her, she curled up into a ball and tried to remember what Mystique had taught her about maintaining control. Pushing away all that was Wolverine, she took deep breaths and waited for her mind to sort through the new memories. After several minutes, Rogue calmed down and looked over at where Wolverine lay on the floor. The whole thing had only taken seconds, and with his healing factor he should be coming around in no time. At that thought Rogue quickly sat up and got to her feet. Hurrying out of the room, she decided that perhaps she didn't want to be there when he woke up.



The Wolverine was not happy. Not for the first time in his life, he felt like he'd come back from the dead, waking up on a cold hard floor with no one to maim to make himself feel better. It was definitely time to have a few words with his new employer. Wolverine was certain the indigo terrorist had deliberately kept her daughter's ability a secret and Wolverine did not like it when people kept secrets. Not from him, and definitely not when it resulted in him losing consciousness. Someone was going to pay for the headache he was experiencing.

He swore to himself as he pushed his back up against a drawer. If he hadn't been in Madripoor when he'd gotten word of Mystique's offer, he would have checked the two women out personally. Then that little hellcat never would have taken him by surprise. Sighing, he rested his head against the drawer behind him. He shouldn't be feeling this bad. He almost felt like he had a hangover. At least, this is what he imagined a hangover would feel like to someone without a healing factor.

He was still trying to figure out what the girl had done to him when the door opened and Mystique walked in. Glared up at her, watching her take in the scene. Her eyes landed on him sitting on the floor with his back to one of the cabinets and she frowned. Despite the unhappy expression, Wolverine couldn't help but notice the glint of pride in her eyes.

"Mr. Jackman, if you want to be prepared for tomorrow, I suggest you sleep somewhere other than the floor. I'm sure we can provide a room for you should you desire one."

"What the hell did that broad do to me?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

Mystique regarded him frostily. "That broad is my daughter. And it just so happens that Rogue has the unique ability to drain people of powers, memories, and strength through skin to skin contact."

Wolverine stood up and glared at her.

"Anything else I should know about her?" he asked sarcastically.

Mystique smirked. "Yes. She has a bit of an impulse control problem."

Wolverine stormed towards the door. Before he walked out, Mystique put a hand on his arm.

"You're over a hundred years old, yes?" she asked suddenly.

Wolverine raised an eyebrow at her. "Something like that. Why?"

"Yet your body is only thirty-something at most. How would you react if someone was condescending to you because they perceived you to be younger than you were?"

"What's your point?" Wolverine asked, exasperated.

"Rogue has absorbed many people, Wolverine. Not all of them pleasant or young. And she carries part of them with her in her mind permanently. Sometimes she even gets confused as to which memories are hers and which aren't. Her body may be twenty, but she's much older than that." She removed her hand. "Think about it."

With that, Mystique turned and left the room once again, leaving an agitated Wolverine behind. Growling in frustration, he left to find a place to sleep. No way was he staying here. Who knows? The blue bitch may have more children . . .



Rogue glanced up as Wolverine entered the weapons room the next day, tensing as images assaulted her mind. Last night she'd had a new nightmare. Now all of a sudden, Wolverine seemed like a whole new person. One she didn't want in her head. She gripped her new plasma gun a little closer. Wolverine noticed and narrowed his eyes.

"Well? Your mother told me you were the one to see about equipment."

Rogue nodded and picked up an energy rifle. Before she handed it to him, she hesitated, searching his face.

"You're not by any chance still upset with me are you?" she asked carefully.

Wolverine gave her his most discomforting smile.

"Upset with you? About what?" he asked innocently.

Rogue slowly handed him the energy rifle. She may not trust him, but she knew from what she'd gotten from absorbing him that he wouldn't kill her. At least until the mission was over. Still. Wolverine watched her hesitation with interest. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was making her nervous. Slyly, he stepped a little closer to her. Instinctively, Rogue to a to step back into the table behind her.

"Strange time to get shy, isn't it?" he asked casually. "After you were so . . . forward, yesterday." He took satisfaction in the way he could hear her heart beat quicker at his nearness. Leaning in a little further, he lowered his voice. "Maybe next time, you'll leave me awake to enjoy it?"

Rogue's eyes widened and for a second she looked like she was going to cry. She was standing inches away from an undeniably masculine co-worker who was deliberately being sexy and trying to instigate something she desperately wanted to do. That asshole.


Sensing the change in her body language, Wolverine leaned back a little to look at her. When he noticed her eyes shining with unshed tears, he frowned in confusion. He'd meant to make her uncomfortable, maybe blush, but not cry. Before he had a chance to ponder it any further, Rogue's fist came rocketing towards his face. He dropped the energy rifle and blocked her swing easily. Grabbing her gloved hand in his, he reached for her other one to prevent her from swinging again.

"Hey -- what—" he sputtered.

"You asshole," Rogue hissed through clenched teeth. Jerking her leg upwards, she waited for him to move to protect his groin and then she brought her heel down hard on the instep of his foot. Grunting in pain and surprise, Wolverine loosened his grip on her hands and she twisted away. Running out of the room, Wolverine heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs before a door slammed shut.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" he said out loud.

"She has no control over her powers," a voice said from the doorway. Wolverine turned to see Mystique standing there watching him.

"Why is it you always seem to come in just when something's happening?" Wolverine grumbled.

Mystique raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not watching you in the first place?"

That sucked. Wolverine sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"What do you mean she has no control?" he asked finally.

"She cannot turn off her powers." Mystique paused for a moment, before adding, "I hope you were not looking forward to another kiss."



The next morning, Wolverine waited silently for Rogue to arrive. He was standing at the designated meeting place, the northwest corner of electrified fence surrounding Pharm-Tech. As he waited for his partner in crime to get there, Wolverine mentally ran over all the things he knew about Rogue. He was absolutely determined not to end up unconscious, in pain, or feeling like a jerk. There had to be a way to go back to being businesslike with this woman. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Yeah. Just be businesslike.

"Hey, old man, stop poppin' your bones and get your ass over the damn fence."

Wolverine frowned and turned around. Rogue was standing two feet away from him beside the fence watching him. She was dressed from head to toe in a black catsuit that fit her like a second skin. Wolverine was torn between feeling turned on and feeling sad for the young woman that couldn't do anything about it, even if he told her. He shook it off. Business, he reminded himself.

"You're late," he said.

Rogue shook her head. "Last minute decision. Before Ah left, Mama had me absorb Toad. Ah jumped here as fast as Ah could."

Wolverine stared at her. "I've joined a fuckin' circus," he mumbled despairingly.

Resigning himself to his fate, Wolverine approached the electric fence quietly. Rogue followed behind him, her ever-present plasma gun strapped to her back and a flashlight held at ready. Wolverine laced his hands together and knelt down.

"Step up, Rogue, and I'll give you a hand over the fence."

Rogue shook her head. Before Wolverine could ask her how else she planned on getting over the electrified fence without getting shocked, she grabbed him and jumped. They both landed on the ground hard, but unharmed. Wolverine rolled into a crouch and growled in irritation.

"Don't ever do that—"

Rogue cut him off. "Come on, the main door is this way."

Wolverine suppressed the urge to throttle her and followed her towards the building. When they got to the door, Wolverine seized the opportunity to release some of his frustration. Popping one of his claws, he viciously jabbed it into the lock on the front door. It sizzled and snapped as the electric circuit was severed, preventing the alarm from sounding. Quickly, they made their way through the halls, each of them knowing every twist and turn from repeated studying of the floor plans Mystique had provided. As they reached a fork in the passage, they each went a separate way. Wolverine followed his nose down to the lower levels, where the mutant test subjects were being kept. Rogue went on to find the main computer, slipping her gloves off and into her pocket.



Wolverine crept through the sterilized passageway, on the alert for any human employees. None were to be found and Wolverine shook his head. The stupid Doctor seemed to believe in almost totally automated control. There wasn't a single human guard down this far. Wolverine figured everyone was too scared of their big bad mutant prisoners to agree to stay the night with them. He snorted. Cowardly bastards.

As he neared the main containment area, Wolverine caught the scent of the captives. Following his sense of smell as well as his memory of the passages, he made his way to the containment area.

Finally, he reached the door. Disabling the lock he took a deep breath and opened the door. As he walked in, Wolverine's stomach churned and he had to fight to keep his mind from flashing back to his own time in a laboratory. Shaking off his own nightmarish memories, Wolverine concentrated on the task at hand. There were at least twenty mutants around the room in various cages. Around each of their necks was an inhibitor collar. Some of them watched him as he walked across the floor. Others remained immobile on the floors of their cages. Wolverine knew they were unconscious without checking. You didn't sleep in a place like this. Determinedly, Wolverine made his way to the cage with his objective.

Inside sat a woman with shoulder length brown hair. At Wolverine's approach, she turned her head to face him. Black gray eyes watched him as he knelt by her cage.

"Wolverine. So nice to see you again," she said softly.

"Hello, Martinique."

"Please, call me Mastermind. I have not been Martinique since my father died." Her French accent seemed strangely out of place in her harsh surroundings.

Wolverine nodded and leaned in to look at the lock on her cage. Then he paused, giving her a serious look. "You owe me for London."

Mastermind bowed her head. "Oui, Wolverine. I have not forgotten."

Wolverine didn't respond. Kneeling down, he reached into the cage and slid one of his claws out. Slicing through the collar, he freed Mastermind to use her powers. Quietly he brought Mastermind up to date.



Rogue kept to the side of the hallway as she approached the door to the main computer room. Pressing her hand against the door, she eased it open and looked around the room. Just as Mystique had said, there were only two men seated at the computer terminal. These two men were, for the most part, the only human personnel within the complex.

Rogue took a deep breath and slipped quietly into the room, creeping along the wall, she made her way over to where they were sitting. Crouching down, she snuck up behind them. Taking a marble out of the little bag around her waist, she slowly rose up. Reaching a bare hand forward she made contact with one man's face while simultaneously throwing the marble across the room. The man she grabbed jerked briefly before slouching over, while the other one's head jerked around to face the sound the marble had made against the far wall. Before he could turn back around, Rogue was beside him, bare hand on his cheek. With both of the technicians down for the count, Rogue took them both over and efficiently tied them up in the corner with an extension cord, making sure they wouldn't come to and ruin the plan. Going back to the computer, armed with the knowledge she had absorbed from the two workers, she tapped into the computer's main database.

After she was in, she accessed the company's bank records and quickly transferred the funds into another account. Then, taking a blank disk out of her little bag, she quickly copied the essential information onto it. Putting that one back, she took out another disk. Inserting it into the computer, she uploaded the file that would insert the virus into the system. Checking to make sure the timer was set correctly, she finished her work and logged out. Going over to her captives she untied them and sat them back up in their chairs. Her job done, she rushed to meet Wolverine.



The next day, Dr. Kroker whistled as he walked down the hallway towards the main computer room. Today Professor Xavier would help him convince the public once and for all that those nasty mutant experimentation rumors were completely false. He smiled to himself. With the media off his back, there would be very little left to slow down his plans.

"Gentlemen," he said cordially as he entered the room. "Are we ready for our esteemed visitors?"

"Everything's ready, Doc. The suppression collars will keep the mutants' powers suppressed and make them virtually undetectable, even by telepaths," the first man said confidently, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

Dr. Kroker looked disapprovingly at the man's slouched position, but quickly let it go. Nothing could spoil his mood today.

"Excellent," he responded, pleased.

As the doctor left the room the other computer maintenance worker looked at his companion.

"Um, don't you think we should have mentioned what happened last night?" he asked nervously.

The other man brushed him off as he straightened up.

"What, that we both fell asleep? What good would it do? We'd just end up losing our jobs. Besides, nothing's missing and nothing's wrong. It's not like we're in some sort of union or something. Kroker could fire us if he wanted to." He shook his head. "We deserve to keep these jobs."

The other man looked doubtful, but he nodded.

"Yeah," he said finally. He turned back to his monitor. "Yeah, I guess you're right. No harm, no foul."



"Look at him, coming out to greet us as though we're old friends. He's hiding something, I know it," Cyclops muttered.

"The timing is rather ironic. It's almost as if he knew we were getting ready do a reconnaissance mission on his precious lab," Jean agreed. "One more night and we wouldn't have needed his permission for this little visit."

Professor Xavier held up a hand.

"Careful, my X-Men. I've been requesting a friendly tour from Dr. Kroker for months now. If he is willing to allow us access freely, we must take advantage of it. However, a spider's web is no less dangerous for a fly if the spider personally invites him, so don't let your guard down."

Their whispered conversation was cut short as Dr. Kroker approached them. A swarm of media followed behind him, their faces eager and expectant like sharks after a garbage boat.

"Welcome, Professor Xavier," Dr. Kroker announced, heartily shaking Xavier's hand. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"As am I, Dr. Kroker," the Professor responded politely. He gestured behind him. "This is Scott Summers and Jean Grey. They're here with me to dispel these . . . rumors."

"Mr. Summers, Ms. Grey, welcome. If you'll all just follow me."

Gesturing inside, Dr. Kroker led them into the building, his demeanor radiating confidence and good will.

As they walked up and down the hallways, listening to Dr. Kroker ramble on and looking into this room and that, Professor Xavier and Jean continually scanned the building telepathically. Dr. Kroker watched them carefully out of the corner of his eye, recognizing their concentrated looks as signs that they were using telepathy. Smiling to himself, he led them through the whole building enjoying their failure to come up with anything against him. He was so confident, eventually he even led them to the normal basement.

"And this is just the basement, basically used for storage and not much else," Dr. Kroker finished. He was just about to turn and suggest that they return to his office for refreshments, when he noticed Xavier's eyes light up. His pulse quickened slightly as the Professor turned to him.

"What about the level below this one?" Professor Xavier asked casually.

Dr. Kroker's perfect smile wavered. "I'm sorry? Professor Xavier, this is the lowest level of the building. I assure you—"

Suddenly all the lights in the building started flickering erratically. All around them, the electronics seemed to grow brighter, before shutting down completely. Cyclops and Jean immediately took up defensive positions around the Professor. Before anyone could say a word, the floor beneath them began trembling.

"Dr. Kroker?" Cyclops turned to face the Doctor.

"I - I'm not sure what's happening," Dr. Kroker said hoarsely.

In the dim light provided by the few small windows on this level, Cyclops could see the Doctor panicking. His precious facade had crumbled and Cyclops had a feeling he knew why the good doctor was scared. His suspicions were confirmed as a large explosion sounded from somewhere close by. Suddenly there was a gaping hole in the floor of the basement. Within seconds several mutants started flying, jumping, and crawling out, their daylight deprived skin almost glowing in the dim room.

"No," Kroker whispered.



"People everywhere were shocked to discover today, that the rumors surrounding Pharmaceutical Technologies about mutant test subjects are true. Dr. Preston Kroker's invitation to Professor Charles Xavier to tour the facilities had a devastating effect on the Doctor's business, as the infamous advocate of mutant rights discovered the presence of the mutants hidden in a secret basement. The X-Men, a team of mutants often seen in corroboration with Professor Xavier, were on the scene aiding in the evacuation of the distressed test subjects."

Mystique smiled as she watched the chaotic scene on the news. Wolverine snorted.

"Aren't you pissed the X-Men are getting credit for this little revolution?" he asked.

"Mr. Jackman, if the X-Men wish to take credit for this, that is their prerogative. That will only make it even less likely that anyone will trace the stolen information and funds back to me," Mystique responded.

"I thought all champions for mutant rights liked to get credit for their heroic actions."

Mystique turned to look at Wolverine. "Mr. Jackman, there are those who would disagree with your summation of my work." She smiled. "There are even those that would try to argue that we are the bad guys. Suffice it to say, I've always found that it is to my advantage to avoid taking any . . . credit, for my actions."

Wolverine arched an eyebrow, but before his could respond, they were interrupted as two women entered the room. Wolverine easily identified the first woman as Mastermind, but the other was a blond he didn't recognize. Then he picked up her scent.

"Rogue?" he asked in surprise.

At the sound of her name, the blond turned to look at him. Walking over to the couch, she closed her eyes and collapsed onto the cushions. Slowly, familiar white streaked brown hair replaced the blond as her body shifted back into her original form. Wolverine took one look at her exhausted features and went over to sit with her.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned.

Rogue didn't open her eyes. "Ah'm fine, Wolverine. Just tired." When Wolverine didn't say anything Rogue sighed. "Ah had to hold the same form longer than Ah expected while Ah waited for Mastermind to come out of the building," she explained. "Controlling other people's powers isn't that easy."

"Why didn't Mystique go herself?"

Rogue rubbed a hand over her face. "Too risky. Jean Grey and Professor Xavier are powerful telepaths and they've had run ins with Mama before. She didn't want to take the chance that they would link what happened today back to her."

Wolverine thought about that for a moment. "Why wouldn't they be able to recognize you and link you back to Mystique?"

Rogue laughed mirthlessly. "It'd take more than a telepath to make heads or tail of mah head. With all the bits and pieces of people Ah've absorbed in the past crowdin' mah head Ah'm lucky Ah can find mah own memories and thoughts."

Mystique glanced over at her daughter.

"Let her be Wolverine," she said firmly. "Rogue is capable of innumerable absorptions and she has used my powers many times. She is perfectly all right."

Wolverine wasn't convinced, but before he could offer his opinion of Mystique's parenting skills, Mystique turned away from him to greet Mastermind. The two embraced briefly before immediately beginning to discuss business. Wolverine frowned and turned back to Rogue. Watching the mutant recover from exhaustion he couldn't help but wonder how hard Mystique worked the young woman.



"I'm getting bored. What the Hell are Mystique and Mastermind talking about, anyway?" Avalanche complained. Lining up his shot, he sunk the seven ball in the side pocket.

"What does it matter? She never uses us anymore anyway," Blob commented. "She just sends her precious daughter and the outsider now." He shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "We should have gone with Sabretooth like Sabre and Post," he mumbled through the frozen dessert.

"Hey, at least she doesn't use you as food," Toad ranted. "She needed my powers, but instead of taking me she just had her vampire daughter suck them out of me."

"If you have a problem with the way Mystique is running things, maybe she should just send you back to prison."

At the sound of the voice, everyone turned around. Mastermind stood in the doorway looking disdainfully around the room.

"At least we didn't let ourselves be captured by that Dr. Frankenstein!" snapped Avalanche.

Mastermind rolled her eyes. "You fool. It's not even worth explaining to you. Just tell me where Rogue is."

"Oh, of course. Where's Rogue? She's the only one who gets to do anything around here. Just because—" Toad trailed off as the room around him wavered and changed. Suddenly, he found himself in a lake surrounded by trees. Looking around in confusion he found himself staring into the reptilian eyes of a giant alligator. Toad screamed as the alligator opened its mouth showing rows of razor sharp teeth. Suddenly, Mastermind materialized inside the alligator's mouth.

"When I ask you a question I expect an answer. Where is Rogue?"

"She's outside on the training course!" Toad cried. Instantly, the illusion of the alligator was gone and Toad found himself once again standing in the rec room. He collapsed in a nervous heap to the floor as Mastermind left the room.



Rogue breathed heavily as she turned the corner of the track. She was exhausted, but Mystique frowned on anyone being lazy. Rogue winced as she felt a stab of pain in her side. Slowing down, she jogged to the end of the track. Quickly, she began doing basic stretching, trying to keep her muscles from tightening up.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?"

Rogue turned and saw Wolverine swaggering over to her. Alcohol rolled off of him in waves and Rogue raised an eyebrow.

"Ah should warn you that Mama doesn't like people bein' drunk when they're supposed to be workin'."

"I'm not working," Wolverine grinned. "How about you?"

"Ah'm always workin'." Rogue sighed and did a few last stretches.

Wolverine frowned as he watched her. Damned healing factor was already killing his buzz.

"Why aren't you kickin' back with the rest of the Brotherhood?" he asked, resigning himself to being sober again.

"They don't like me," she answered simply. "Ah'm Mama's favorite."

"Sure doesn't seem like it, the way she works you like a dog," Wolverine commented, flopping onto the grass.

Stunned, Rogue snapped her head around to look at him. The hurt in her eyes was almost palpable and Wolverine instantly regretted his quick words.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. I just—"

Before he could finish, an illusion of Mastermind appeared before them. "Rogue, Wolverine. You're both wanted in the meeting room. Now."

As quickly as it had appeared the image vanished. Rogue turned without a word and walked back to the house leaving a pensive Wolverine to pick himself up and follow behind.



Mystique and Mastermind were deep in conversation, but they both fell silent as Wolverine and Rogue filed into the meeting room. Mastermind smiled at Rogue in greeting and nodded at Wolverine. With one last glance back at Mystique, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Ah, there you are," Mystique said briskly. "Sit down, we're going to go over the next phase of the plan."

"Damn woman, that's not scheduled to go down for days yet. Why don't you give your kid a break?" Wolverine cut in.

"Wolverine, let it go, Ah'm fine," Rogue protested hotly.

Mystique narrowed her eyes at Wolverine.

"I hired you because you had a reputation for being the best," she said in a low voice. "Are you telling me that you can't handle the job?"

Wolverine didn't back down. "Oh, I can handle it. I'm just saying, Rogue—"

"Do not concern yourself with my daughter, Mr. Jackman. Unlike you I have no doubts about her ability to handle this job," Mystique dismissed him.

Wolverine glared at her, but Rogue laid a placating hand on his arm.

"Please, stop."

Wolverine fought down the urge to argue. Rogue was obviously uncomfortable with the subject and the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse for her. Relaxing slightly, he nodded.

"Fine." He turned to Mystique. "All I'm saying is that both of us need to be operating at our best for what we need to do. Stress is a weakness and we can't afford that." He looked Mystique in the eye. "Give me three days. I'll work with Rogue and make sure she's up to everything we'll be facing."

As Mystique listened to Wolverine's suggestion, her mind began to churn with new ideas. She'd watched with interest as Wolverine seemed to calm down at Rogue's touch. Though she had often used her daughter's powers to achieve a goal, she'd never considered feminine wiles to be in Rogue's artillery. She would have to keep her eye on the Wolverine and her daughter. Emotions often turned out to be useful bargaining chips.

"Rogue has already been briefed on the mission, Mr. Jackman, and she has been in training her entire life. What exactly do you propose to teach her."

"How about how to relax?" Wolverine suggested wryly.

Mystique looked amused at the suggestion that laziness could be considered a trainable skill.

"Very well, Mr. Jackman," she said finally. "You may have your three days. Just remember, it's up to you now to make sure you're both ready in time.

"Fine." Wolverine turned to Rogue. "Can you show me a room I can sleep in?"

Rogue stared at him uncertainly. He hadn't slept here before. That coupled with the spontaneous, but heartfelt, concern he'd just expressed for her had her feeling confused. Automatically seeking guidance, Rogue looked over at Mystique who simply nodded. Turning back to Wolverine, Rogue shrugged and then led him out of the room into the hall.

Neither said anything as they walked to the upper level. Wolverine watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was clearly exhausted, but to her credit she tried not to show it. He had the unpleasant suspicion that Mystique was encouraging Rogue to push herself too hard and to simply take energy from others instead of resting up to restore her own. Either way, Wolverine wasn't about to go on a mission with someone who looked like they could keel over at any second.

Rogue gestured to a room ahead and they both walked in. She turned on the light and Wolverine saw that the room was sparsely furnished. The walls were a plain white and the bed had a plain green blanket with matching sheets.

"It's not much, but it should do." Rogue commented. She rubbed her face with her gloved hands. She felt like hell.

"Why don't you have a seat?"

"Ah should go back down to the training course. Mah muscles feel tight, Ah need to work them out."

Wolverine walked over to her. "I have a better idea. Take your shirt off and lay down on the bed."

That got her attention and Rogue looked at him incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"I said, take your shirt off and lay down on the goddamn bed," repeated patiently.

"Do you have a death wish?" Rogue asked wide-eyed.

"Do you want your muscles to be too sore to do your job?" he countered.

Rogue was silent as she considered his proposal. She still looked doubtful. Wolverine sighed.

"Hey," he said. "We need to work together, right?"

Rogue nodded slowly.

"And to work together we've got to be able to trust one another, right? We need to know we've got each other's backs." She smiled a little at his pun. Wolverine smiled a little back. "Look, I'm not gonna molest you. Just trust me." Finally, Rogue nodded.

Wolverine turned his back to give her time to take her shirt off and lay down. Then he turned around and reached into his back pockets, removing a pair of black leather gloves. Putting them on, he walked back over to the bed. Rogue was lying down, her hair pulled to the side watching him closely. Wolverine carefully climbed onto the bed, placing one leg on either side of her. He could sense she was still very nervous and he kept his weight off her. Slowly he began to massage her shoulders. After a few moments, he could feel her relax a little. Taking his time, he worked his way carefully down her back, paying attention to every muscle. Methodically, he worked each knot out until her muscles all loosened under his touch. As he finished her lower back, he considered going lower, but quickly decided against it. Listening carefully, he heard her steady breathing and knew she'd fallen asleep.

"Thought that might work," he murmured. Getting up off the bed, he carefully pulled the blanket out from under her. She didn't even stir as he covered her up. Smiling to himself, he quietly left the room.



Rogue woke up slowly as the sunlight drifted in the window. Sleepily, she lifted her head slightly to look at the clock beside the bed. One o' clock. Rogue's eyes shot open. Frantically, she sat up and realized she was naked from the waist up. In her haste to get out of bed, her legs tangled in the blankets and she fell off the bed with a thud. Scrambling to get her shirt on, she quickly dressed and ran to her room. Jumping into the shower, she washed as fast as she could and dried herself as she ran into her room.

Dressing in record time, she dashed down the stairs. As she ran into the kitchen, Mystique spoke calmly.

"Mr. Jackman is waiting for you in the lounge, whenever you're ready, Daughter."

Rogue closed her eyes in defeat and waited for the lecture she was sure would come. When Mystique remained silent, Rogue opened her eyes. Her mother was reading the paper, Rogue and her tardiness seemingly forgotten. Surprised, Rogue quickly grabbed an orange and hurried to the lounge, not wanting to push her luck.

Wolverine was sitting on the couch, watching television. He looked up at her as she skidded into the room.

"Wolverine, Ah'm so sorry. Ah've never slept this late Ah swear. Ah must have fallen asleep in your room, and without mah alarm—" or my shirt. Suddenly Rogue remembered why she hadn't been in her own room. Thoughts of Wolverine's massage replayed in her mind and her face flushed in belated self-consciousness.

Wolverine looked at her with amusement as her face colored, but mercifully, he didn't say anything about it.

"Why don't we go get something decent to eat?" he suggested, eyeing the orange in her hand.

"Sounds good," she agreed quickly.

Leading the way, Wolverine walked outside to his bike.

"You're not afraid of riding motorcycles are you?" he asked as he climbed on.

"Ah'm not even gonna grace that question with an answer," Rogue responded, swinging one leg over and sitting behind him.

Wolverine grinned. Starting the bike, he revved the engine and they were off. Rogue felt her spirits rise as the wind whipped through her hair, blowing it off her shoulders. She'd forgotten how freeing motorcycles could be. It was a fairly long drive to get to a good restaurant, since the Brotherhood's headquarters were located strategically to keep people from wandering by, but to Rogue it seemed like minutes until they finally arrived at their destination.

When they went in they were seated almost immediately since they had made it after the lunch hour and before the dinner rush.

"Looks like your laziness paid off," Wolverine commented.

Rogue glared at him. "Ah said Ah was sorry so either get over it or take me home. If Ah wanted to be insulted Ah would hang out with Avalanche and Toad."

Wolverine held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Rogue still looked offended, but she let it go. Wolverine sighed. Things weren't going like he planned.

"Okay, listen, I didn't ask you to come to lunch to argue. I just thought we oughta get to know one another before we continue to work together."

"That's bullshit. We've already worked together once without a problem, why do you all of a sudden feel like `getting to know one another'?"

Wolverine looked at her for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Fair enough. I noticed Mystique's been working you real hard. Even when you're not carrying out orders, you never relax."

"Why should Ah waste mah time? Mama prefers Ah keep mahself busy—"

"I don't want you falling asleep while you're supposed to be watching my back."

"Oh don't worry about me, Wolverine, Ah'll have plenty of energy—"

"How?" Wolverine interrupted in frustration. "You gonna absorb it from someone else?"

Rogue's mouth snapped shut. For a few moments, she contemplated Wolverine in silence. It was a rare occasion that Mystique required outside help for a job, and even rarer when that person took an interest in how Mystique ran things. Why is it that all of a sudden, Wolverine seemed to take personal interest in how she did her job?

Finally, she spoke. "What do you want from me?" she asked quietly.

"I want you to loosen up. You already understand what we're going to be doing, right?"

"Of course," Rogue acknowledged.

Wolverine nodded. "Good. Then we're going to relax and get to know one another. We'll compare notes on what we're gonna be doing and plan on doing it—what's today? Tuesday?--we'll plan on doing it Thursday night. Until then, we rest, we relax."

Rogue stared at him. Seeing he was serious, she finally sighed. "All right."

"Good."

Just then their food arrived. For awhile they both just ate, each of them chewing thoughtfully on their steaks.

"So tell me something about yourself," Wolverine said.

Rogue fought down the urge to ask him why he cared and thought for a moment. "Well, Ah discovered mah powers when Ah was five. Mah `boyfriend,' Cody, kissed me."

"What happened to him?"

"He went into a coma for three days," Rogue said softly.

Wolverine put down his silverware and reached over to lay his hand on hers. "I'm sorry."

"So was Ah."

Wolverine considered that a moment. "Does your power always last that long?"

"No," she said exhaling. "On humans it seems to last a little longer. Anywhere from a couple hours to . . . you know. Anyway, Ah have a little more control now. Usually the mutant is out for less than an hour if Ah hold on just enough to take their power. If Ah want them out for longer Ah just hold onto them longer."

"I take it Mystique gave you training on that?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you been with her?"

"After what happened with Cody, Ah ran away from home. The whole town hated me. That's when Mystique found me. She's been mah mama ever since."

"Hell of a family." Rogue didn't bother asking if he was talking about the terrorist Mystique or her family who had rejected her. It didn't matter.

"I didn't mean to pry into something so personal."

"S'okay. Ah volunteered it," Rogue replied, brushing him off.

"Is there anything you want to know about me? I owe you something personal."

Rogue smiled wryly. "You have a short memory."

Wolverine looked confused, so she explained. "The other day when Ah, um . . ." she trailed off.

Quirking an eyebrow, Wolverine prompted her. "When you kissed me . . .?"

"Yeah, when Ah kissed you. Ah absorbed you, memories and all. If anything, Ah seem to owe you something personal."

Wolverine frowned. He'd never thought about that. They both continued eating in silence.



When they got back to the mansion, Rogue tried to head out to the training field, but Wolverine stopped her.

"Uh uh. We're relaxing." Leading her into the rec room, he turned on the television.

"You can't be serious. What on earth is watching television gonna accomplish?"

"We are going to relax and make small talk," Wolverine insisted. Rogue opened her mouth and closed it again. Mystique had agreed to let him prepare her for this mission and since she had nothing else in particular to do, she may as well humor him.

Three hours later (7: 00 p.m.)

Rogue sighed to herself. Wolverine was the strangest employee Mystique had ever hired. All of the memories Rogue had taken from Wolverine seemed to tell her he was an all business type of guy, gruff even. Yet here he was, on a mission to make her relax. Either she was worse off than she thought, or he was a complete lunatic. They had watched television for two whole hours before she'd convinced him to let her train outside. He'd granted her an hour and now she was ready to change.

They both walked upstairs, and when Rogue turned to go to her own room, Wolverine followed her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Wolverine asked innocently.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Into your room," he explained.

"Any particular reason you think Ah'm gonna let you into mah room?" Rogue asked suspiciously.

"We're not done yet. Anyway, you said so yourself earlier, you owe me something personal."

Dubiously, Rogue let him follow her into her room.

"Is it all right if Ah get a quick shower first?" she asked sarcastically.

"Sure, go ahead. Give me more time to look around," he smirked.

Rogue rolled her eyes. Walking over to her drawer she reached in and pulled out a clean bodysuit. Aware of Wolverine's gaze following her movements, she hurried into her bathroom.

Wolverine smiled to himself as he heard the door lock behind her. A few seconds later the shower came on. He sighed and sat down on the bed. Looking around the room, he tried to get a feel for what Rogue was really like. Her bed had plain black sheets with a matching black comforter, not much information there. A desk and chair stood against the wall by the bed, nothing on it of interest. Her dressers had a few books on them, placed neatly between two bookends.

Wolverine got up and went over to examine the titles more closely. Just as he suspected, they were mostly nonfiction.

"Gun manuals," he muttered despairingly. "And I thought I lived for my work." He looked around a little more, but there wasn't much to see. Her bedroom was almost Spartan in its simplicity. Soon he heard the shower turn off. After a few minutes the door opened and Rogue stepped out.

"All right," she said toweling her hair. "Let's get whatever this is over with so you can get out of mah room."

"Okay, first sit on the floor with your legs crossed like so." He sat down on the floor and demonstrated. Rogue mimicked his position. "Good. Now rest the backs of your hands on your knees, like so."

"Like so," Rogue echoed, following his example.

Wolverine shot her an irritated look. "Now close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths and let your muscles relax."

As Rogue followed his instructions, they both fell silent. For awhile the only sound in the room was their steady breathing.

Finally, Wolverine opened his eyes. Keeping calm and still he looked at Rogue. "Do you know why we're doing this?"

"Because you still think I need more rest and you're trying to put me to sleep again?"

Wolverine rolled his eyes.

"It's meditation. It helps you to center your energies so that you can channel them. Think of it as being more efficient with your efforts." Rogue smirked, but kept her eyes closed.

"Ah train all the time, how do you suggest Ah channel mah energies?"

"How about into observation?" he suggested.

"Observation?"

"Yeah, when you're calm you notice all sorts of things," he insisted.

"Such as . . . ?"

"Such as, you didn't want to get a pair of underwear out of your drawer while I was watching, so you went without."

Rogue's eyes shot open. Wolverine chuckled, still holding his position.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"Try."

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "Just look at it this way, meditation helps you to get in touch with yourself."

"So this is a lesson in `know thyself.'"

"Exactly," he agreed. "So tell me what you know about yourself."

"Like what?"

"Just look around your room. You can tell a lot of things about a person by looking at their room. Look at your room and tell me how it reflects on you."

Rogue took a deep breath and looked around her room.

"Ah like order."

"Why?"

She thought about it. "Ah've absorbed a lot of people," she started slowly. "Mah head feels crowded sometimes, and there's nothin' Ah can do about it. Keeping mah room in order gives me a sense of control."

"Good," Wolverine nodded. "What else?"

Rogue took a few more deep breaths. She was used to seeing people's most private thoughts, but putting her own mind out for someone else to see was turning out to be harder than she'd thought. Her eyes fell on her books. Some of the few personal belongings she had.

"Mah books are all about the job. Reading is just another form of training."

That last sentence was tinged with hesitation. Wolverine looked at her closely. "There's something you're keeping back."

Rogue looked down for a long time before getting up out of her position. Walking over to her bed, she reached under the mattress and pulled out another book. This one was smaller and a paperback. It's cover was faded and you could tell it had been read over and over. She walked back over. Fighting her instinct to keep it to herself, she let him read the cover.

"A romance novel?" Wolverine looked up at her as she clutched it back to her chest. "Why do you keep it hidden?"

"Why not? Mah skin keeps me from expressing any romantic inclinations Ah feel. If Ah hide mah emotions, why not hide evidence that Ah have them to begin with?"

Her voice sounded matter of fact, but there was a deep underlying sadness to her words. Looking into her eyes, Wolverine saw someone too old for her body. The pain he saw in their depths reminded him of himself, when he'd gone to Japan seeking the peace he couldn't find in himself. Shaking his head, he stood up.

"Why don't you practice meditating for awhile? We'll pick up again tomorrow."

Rogue nodded and went to replace her precious book under her mattress. Before he left the room, Wolverine stopped in the doorway.

"Rogue?"

"Yeah?" She turned to look at him.

"I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to me."

Rogue smiled. "Yeah, well, after that kiss, Ah feel like Ah've known you your whole life."

Wolverine nodded. When he'd gone, Rogue resumed her meditative position and closed her eyes. For what seemed like hours she sat there, just breathing and reflecting. At one time a tear made its way down her cheek.

Finally, she opened her eyes. Feeling more at peace with herself than she had in a long time, she stood up and crawled into bed. The room had gotten dark as she meditated and she'd never turned her lights on.

Just before she drifted off to sleep, Rogue made a decision. Getting out of bed, she fished her book out from under her mattress. Taking it over to her dresser, she slipped it between her bookends. It seemed out of place among the grim nonfiction, but the soft pink and rolling cursive title somehow made the harsher texts seem less intimidating. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Rogue went back to bed.



The next day Wolverine called to say he wouldn't be there until eight o' clock at night. At first, Rogue slipped back into her old habits, spending her time training and running around the track. She hadn't been at it long when it hit her that this was exactly what Wolverine had been trying to help her with. Making up her mind to continue with what Wolverine had taught her, she went up to her room and showered off before meditating for two hours. At the end of her meditation, Rogue found she was actually feeling so good that she decided to make another change.

Walking into the rec room, Rogue found Toad, Avalanche, and the Blob hanging out. Blob was parked on the sofa eating his usual tub of ice cream, Toad was using his tongue to knock bottles off the end of the bar, and Avalanche was practicing his billiard skills on the pool table. They all looked up when she came in the room.

"Hey guys," Rogue said cheerfully.

They all stared at her like she'd grown a third head. Undeterred, Rogue walked over to the pool table.

"Mind if Ah play?" she asked.

Avalanche seemed to be deciding if she was joking or not.

"Did Mystique send you down here to keep an eye on us?" he asked suspiciously.

"No," Rogue said reassuringly. "Ah just thought Ah'd hang out with ya'll a bit before Ah have ta go with Wolverine."

"Oh, so now she's calling in an outsider to train you," Toad said sarcastically. Hopping down from the bar he walked over until he was only inches away from Rogue. "Aren't we the important one?" he whispered.

"Look, Ah just thought—"

"Don't think," Toad snapped.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want Mystique's precious daughter to have to lower herself to consorting with the likes of us," Avalanche added. Rogue's mouth hung open. Finally, she gave up and left the room. Going upstairs she went in to lie down on her bed. She still hadn't moved when Wolverine arrived.

"Hey," he waved. "Your mom said I might find you up here. What are you doing just lying around? I figured I'd find you out on that damn training course again." He chuckled.

"You're the one that told me Ah need ta get more rest."

Wolverine frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Ah'm fine."

"Riiiight. And I teach Art." He walked in and sat on the edge of her bed. "What happened?"

Rogue sighed and told him about trying to hang out with the rest of the Brotherhood.

"They didn't even give me a chance," she finished. Sighing, she looked down at her lap. "Face it, Ah have no social skills." Wolverine snorted. "I kinda figured that when you shot me with a plasma gun for callin' you `kid.'" Rogue's face fell, and Wolverine rubbed a hand over his face. "Look, darlin', you can't ignore the fact that we don't exactly sell Amco products for a living. In our line of work social skills aren't exactly necessary for survival. Is it any wonder you're a social failure?"

Rogue's head snapped up and she stared at him. "Excuse me? I'm a social failure?" She stood up. "Maybe Ah just need a little help communicating. Hang on, Ah'm gonna get mah plasma gun. Don't move."

Just as she was about to storm out the door she heard Wolverine's voice. "Why do you suppose any time I give you shit, you threaten to shoot me, again, but when those assholes downstairs give you shit you run and hide in your room?"

Rogue froze outside the door before slowly turning to face him. For several minutes she just stood there and stared, the wheels in her mind spinning.

"Go ahead, you can say it," Wolverine said reassuringly. At her confused look he smiled and finished, "I'm a genius."

Rogue tried not to smile, but failed. Laughing, she shook her head and crossed her arms.

"Ah outta smack you."

"That's the spirit. Now get dressed, we're goin' out."

"Where are we going?"

"Got a fake ID?" Wolverine asked.

Rogue quirked an eyebrow. "Several. Why?"

"Bars usually require one." He started to leave the room to give her some privacy, but she followed behind him. "Where are you going?" he asked, stopping her.

"Apparently to a bar."

"Aren't you going to change first?" he asked.

"Change into what?" Rogue asked exasperated. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Wolverine looked down at her signature latex bodysuit. He looked up with a suggestive grin. "It's not that kind of club."

Rogue blushed furiously. "Well, what the hell do you want me to wear?" she sputtered.

"I don't know, something nice, but comfortable. You're the female here, what do females wear to bars?"

Rogue glared at him, a tinge of hurt in her eyes. "Females with poisonous skin wear bodysuits—everywhere."

Wolverine could have smacked himself. Avoiding looking into her eyes, he strode over to her closet, set into the far wall. Throwing open the door he reached in and grabbed a black shirt.

"You got a pair of blue jeans?" he asked as he thrust the shirt at her.

Rogue rolled her eyes and took the shirt. Grabbing a pair of jeans from her drawer she made her way toward the bathroom.

"Don't forget underwear," Wolverine called. He ducked as a brush flew out of the bathroom at his head. "Just trying to be helpful," he snickered.



"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Rogue asked nervously. "There are a lot of people here." She tugged on the hem of her low cut black top. Wolverine considered pointing out that when she did that her breasts came dangerously close to falling out of her shirt, but decided against it since he hadn't checked her for weapons. Anyway, he reasoned, it wasn't his fault she was fidgety. Besides, he was enjoying the eye candy.

Taking Rogue's arm, he led her over to the bar, where they both grabbed a stool. The bartender came over and Wolverine ordered a Canadian Gold.

"What do you want?" he asked Rogue.

"Oh, Ah don't think Ah should drink. Mama would kill me, and who knows who Ah might kill."

Wolverine gave her a look. "I'll be right here with you, you'll be fine. Now what do you want?"

Rogue sighed. "Canadian Gold is fine."

The bartender didn't even ask for her ID. Rogue wisely suspected it was Wolverine's friendly demeanor. For awhile they just sat there sipping their beers.

"Well, what now?" Rogue asked finally.

"Now we play pool."

Rogue didn't bother inquiring as to the theraputic value of billiards. Instead, she shrugged and followed him over to a table. Soon they had a game going. Five games and a few beers later Wolverine looked up in pleasant surprise.

"Not bad, you won two. I guess you don't spend all your time trainin'."

Rogue smiled. "Actually, Ah'm usin' you."

"What do you mean?"

She tapped the side of her head. "Got ya up here, shugah. Memories, skills, and all. You sure do spend a lotta time in bars."

Wolverine frowned as they both put their cues back and went back to the bar to sit down. "You mean my memories are all just floatin' around your head?"

Rogue ordered another beer, before she turned to answer him. "Not exactly," she said. "Mama used to make me practice with mah powers all the time. Now when Ah absorb someone, Ah file their memories in mah mind. Ah kin access them whenever Ah want, but Ah don't just . . ." she waved a hand around in the air, trying to think of how to put it. "Ah don't just know them like Ah know mah own memories."

She looked at him and noticed a look of unease on his face. She couldn't blame him. It had to be weird knowing someone else could look through your personal private thoughts. She propped her elbow on the bar and rested her face in her hand.

"It's ok, Logan. Ah won't peek."

He smiled a little, and she turned to look out at the little dance floor. It wasn't very big but there were a decent number of people dancing. "Hungry Eyes" was playing. She closed her eyes and swayed a little to the music.

Wolverine watched her. "Why don't you go out there and dance?" he asked.

Rogue opened her eyes. "Too many people. If anyone asked me to dance, Ah'd be too worried they might try to touch me. It wouldn't even have to be a kiss. Cheek to cheek would do it."

Her voice sounded wistful and Wolverine knew it wasn't all from the alcohol. Gripping his beer a little tighter, he clenched his teeth and looked away. He was not going to dance. He'd picked out her clothes, he'd taken her out to lunch . . . he was not dancing. He wasn't paid to dance and if he was, fifty thousand wasn't going to do it. He glared down at his beer. Shit.

Sighing, he looked over at Rogue.

"Come on," he said. Taking her arm he led her out onto the dance floor. He put one arm around her waist and took her other gloved hand in his. Together they danced to the Eric Carmen song that had stolen so many hearts in the movie Dirty Dancing.

Rogue sighed in contentment. The look on her face almost made it worth being forced to dance. The song that was playing now was slow, and for a few minutes they just swayed back and forth to the music. Finally, Rogue laid her head on Wolverine's shoulder. Her hair protected him from her skin, and he could smell the shampoo she'd used earlier.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hmmm?" she murmured.

"You ready to get going?"

She took a deep breath and lifted her head off his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure."

As they walked off the dance floor, Wolverine put an arm around her waist to steady her. Together they left to go back to the Brotherhood's mansion.



"I just don't like it. I hired him for his reputation, not as a companion for my daughter." Mystique paced around the room. Mastermind watched her from her place on the bed.

"Raven, he may be a hired gun, but he's still a man. Believe me, Wolverine does have honor. I honestly believe he's trying to help Rogue."

"Rogue doesn't need his help, she has me," Mystique snapped. When Mastermind didn't say anything. Mystique sighed. "I'm sorry." She walked over and laid down on the bed. Mastermind opened her arms, and Mystique leaned into her embrace.

"Raven, Rogue is a woman, not a child. You helped her adjust to her powers and I have no doubt you saved her from insanity. Thanks to you, she isn't overwhelmed by the memories or powers of those she absorbs. That's an incredible achievement. But you must admit," she said gently. "You never tried to help her learn to control them totally. In essence, you've perpetuated her lack of control as a means of birth control."

Mystique leaned back farther and tilted her head back, looking into Mastermind's eyes.

"If you were anyone else, I would hate you for being so insightful." Mastermind chuckled. "And if Rogue were anyone else, she may have another reason for not worrying about pregnancy."

A slow smile spread across Mystique's face. "And what might that reason be?"

In answer, Mastermind leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lover's lips.

Mystique started to respond, when suddenly there was a loud thud on the lower level. Both women sprang apart.

"What in the blue blazes was that?" Mystique said in irritation. She and Mastermind both jumped out of bed and made their way downstairs. The sight that greeted them enraged Mystique.

"Rogue!"



Wolverine groaned inwardly as Rogue's mother came down the stairs. Shit. He looked up at her from his place on the floor. He had been guiding Rogue through the living room towards the stairs, when she'd tripped over the footrest to a chair. With her balance gone, he'd moved to steady her and hit his shin on the same footrest. In a tangle of arms and legs they'd fallen to the floor. And just his luck that Mystique and Mastermind would still be awake. As his gaze met Mystique's angry yellow eyes, he heard Rogue speak up behind him.

"Mama, it's okay, Ah'm all right."

"You won't be for long," Mystique promised. She whirled on

Wolverine. "What the hell do you think you're doing bringing my daughter back at this hour?" Beside them, Rogue started to stand up, lost her balance and fell back down. Mystique's eyes widened.

"Rogue, have you been drinking?"

"Oh, lord," Rogue moaned. "Mama just go back to bed."

Mastermind placed a placating hand on Mystique's arm. "Raven, maybe we should just let them handle this."

"Oh I think they've handled it enough. Wolverine, you will leave immediately. Tomorrow night you will accomplish what I've paid you for and then I never want to see you near my daughter again."

"Mama!"

Wolverine stood up slowly and fixed Mystique with an unwavering gaze. They stared at one another for several moments, neither one backing down. Finally, Wolverine turned and leaned down to pick Rogue up in his arms. He walked toward the stairs with her.

"Where do you—"

"Raven," Mastermind interrupted gently. "Let them go. We'll handle this in the morning."

Shaking with repressed anger and frustration, Mystique allowed Mastermind to guide them both back to their bedroom.



As Wolverine walked into her room, Rogue sighed and laid her head against his chest.

"That didn't go well. Ah knew Mama wouldn't like me drinking."

Wolverine laid her down carefully on her bed. After he covered her up, he pulled up the chair from her desk and sat down.

"You gonna be okay, Rogue?"

Rogue smiled up at him. "Ah'll be fine Logan. Ah kin handle Mama."

Wolverine looked startled.

"What did you call me?"

"Logan," Rogue murmured. Her eyes had drifted closed. "That's your name isn't it?" She opened one eye to peek up at him. "You still look surprised. How many times do Ah have to remind you, you're in mah head?"

"Sorry," Wolverine shook his head. "It just takes some getting used to."

"Tell me about it," she sighed again and snuggled under the blanket.

Wolverine smiled and stood up.

"Good night Rogue," he said, replacing the chair and moving towards the door.

"Night, Logan."



The X-Men all waited in apprehension for the Professor to come down to the War Room. Things had been very busy in the last few days since the uproar at Pharm-Tech. One of the mutants they'd rescued had spoken of a mutant coming into the containment area and talking to one of the prisoners. Since then, the X-Men had been working diligently to find anyone with information on the identity of the mysterious stranger. Now, three days later, the Professor had just telepathically summoned them, saying he had news concerning the mutant who had played a part in the events at Pharm-Tech. The War Room seemed half empty with most of the team out on other missions. Only Cyclops, Jean, Storm, and Jubilee were left. Jubilee had not yet showed up.

Just then the door opened and Professor X entered in his hoverchair. Beside him was Jubilee. As they both took their positions in the room, all eyes were on the Professor.

"My X-Men, I have called you here because Jubilee believes she may have information about the next target of the two mutants involved in the situation at Pharm-Tech."

"Two?" Jean questioned. "Longshot only mentioned hearing one mutant enter his cell area."

"That's true, Jean, but I believe Jubilee has found out otherwise." He looked over at Jubilee and nodded.

Jubilee squared her shoulders, proud to be the center of her teammates' attention. "There was a guy in the bar the other night called Mort Toynbee. He was bitchin' about how his boss never gave him assignments anymore—that she always just gave them to her kid. He started talkin' about how Pharm-Tech should have been his job, like he should have gotten the credit. Then he started talkin' about how his boss had went and hired some guy that wasn't even a part of the group too. He was really mad, and he said something about stealing government weapons and how he and his buddies could have handled it without the 'damn canadian or the southern brat.'"

"What were you doing in a bar?" asked Cyclops sharply.

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "I think you're, like, straying from the point."

"She's right, Scott," Jean agreed, quickly brushing off her husband's concern for Jubilee's nocturnal activities. She turned to the Professor. "Is this 'Mort Toynsbee' in our files, Professor?"

"Yes he is, Jean," Professor Xavier nodded, consulting a printout he held in his lap. "They call him the Toad, he's a mutant. He works with the Brotherhood of Mutants under Mystique. I believe the 'kid' he was referring to is her foster daughter, Rogue. I'm not sure who the outsider is, though."

"But where would they find government weapons around here? There's nothing major worth all this trouble," mused Cyclops. He thought about it for a few minutes. "We need to find this Toad. We need to know more about their plan." He turned back to the Professor. "Professor, can you find him with Cerebro?"

"Hey, no need, Cyclops! It's only Wednesday, he'll probably be back at the bar tonight. He's always there."

Cyclops looked like he was going to have a conniption. "How do you know that?! Are you a regular? Will someone please explain to me why— "

"Cyclops, calm yourself," Storm smoothly intervened. "The child has provided us with valuable information, I do not think this is the time to chastise her for petty matters." Storm turned her back on Scott as Jean reminded him to take deep breaths. "Jubilee, could you take us to this . . . place you speak of?"

Jubilee's eyes lit up. "All right!" She raced off towards the garage. Storm serenely followed, as Jean and a recovering Cyclops brought up the rear.



Wolverine and Rogue made their way through the forest. As they got closer, the side fence of the military compound came into view through the darkness. Wolverine immediately took up his position in the lowest branches of the closest tree. At his signal, Rogue screamed and Wolverine rustled the branches. His sensitive hearing picked up the voices of the two men guarding the front gate. Moments later, one of them came around the corner. Wolverine had to give him credit. The man was quiet and dressed in camouflage. If it weren't for his military training and heightened senses, Wolverine may have missed him. Looking down, he saw Rogue lying on the ground, her clothes dirty and a little torn. She held perfectly still as the man crept closer. He kept his gun carefully trained on her as he approached.

"Miss? Miss!" He waited several minutes for a response. Receiving none, he prodded her carefully with the toe of his boot. When she still didn't move he removed a glove and bent down to check her pulse. As his skin touched hers, the transfer opened. His breath caught in his throat, and then he collapsed.

Rogue opened her eyes slowly and stood up. Looking into the tree, she met Wolverine's eyes. "The other guard is named Bryan," she whispered so softly only Wolverine's super sensitive hearing could pick it up. He nodded.

"Bryan! Get over here!" His voice was hoarse and muffled by the trees. Rogue quickly dragged the other guard's body behind the bushes and hid beside him. As the other guard came into sight, she rustled the bushes slightly. Cautiously, Bryan crept over. He stopped about five feet away from the bush.

As he searched the bushes for movement, Wolverine gathered his muscles and leapt out. Knocking the gun from his hand, he unsheathed his claws at the man's throat.

The man's eyes barely moved. He looked down Wolverine's claws with a straight face and a steely gaze, not saying a word. He didn't even see Rogue as she walked up behind him and laid a bare hand on his cheek. He lost consciousness with no more than an intake of air.

"Ah have ta say, Wolverine, Ah'm impressed with these guys. That one didn't even blink at your claws and neither of them cried out when mah power took them. Most folks yell like the dickens." She looked up at him as a realization seemed to strike her. "Course, you didn't shout either."

Her gaze seemed to bore a hole in him. "Hard to yell with someone's mouth over mine," Wolverine replied nonchalantly. He grinned at her and she smiled back, shyly.

"Well," she said finally. "We better get changed."

Wolverine nodded and they proceeded to undress the two guards. As they stripped out of their own clothes before replacing them with the guards' uniforms, Wolverine glanced over at Rogue. She seemed freer now than when he had first met her. As he watched, she let her clothes drop to the ground before bending over to pick up the guard's uniform. Wolverine inhaled sharply. Much freer. Rogue tucked her hair into her cap and began to turn around. Wolverine snapped back to attention. As he changed into the guard's uniform, he chastised himself for being unprofessional. Still, as Rogue walked on ahead of him towards the gate, he couldn't help but remember what was beneath the uniform . . .



A wave of fog rolled over the military compound and the surrounding area. As the X-Men cautiously approached the gait, Cyclops beckoned them all to stay close.

"There aren't any guards out here, but that doesn't mean there aren't any inside. Storm, take out the security cameras."

"Consider it done," she responded, rising into the air. Moments later, lighting pierced the darkness and a few small explosions heralded the end of the security cameras.

"I sure hope Cerebro was right about Rogue and that other mutant being here. The government hates us enough already without us destroying their toys," Jubilee quipped.

"Jubilee be quiet." Cyclops raised a hand to his visor and prepared to blast the keypad to the gate.

"Scott, wait!" Jean whispered urgently. Cyclops looked where she was pointing. Jubilee stood inside the open gate.

"Huh," the youngest X-Man said with a shrug. "It was open."

Jean hid a smile as she and Cyclops walked in. Storm landed softly behind them when they were inside. Walking a little farther into the base, they saw the door to the guardhouse was open too. Jubilee ran ahead and looked inside.

"There's a guard in there unconscious," she said, turning back to the team.

Cyclops' face was grim as they began to walk towards the building. "They must have made it inside already. Jean, can you sense anyone?"

Jean lifted a hand to her temple and closed her eyes. After a few moments she opened them again.

"I sense one mind inside, maybe another one. The second one might be Rogue, but I can't get a clear picture of her mind. It's just static."

"You mean you can't sense any guards?"

"No. They must have gotten them all."

Cyclops sighed. "Well, that's certainly possible. The Professor said he'd never heard of a government base in this area. If it really is a secret base, there wouldn't be many people here."

"Cyclops, how are we going to navigate our way through the building to find Rogue?" Jubilee whispered.

Jean answered for him. "I'm afraid that's going to be all too easy."

"What do you mean—oh." Jubilee's voice trailed off as she opened the door and they all looked inside. There was a guard lying right inside the door. The barrel of his gun had been cut off cleanly and he had a bruise blossoming on the left side of his face. His shirt had been ripped and shreds of it used to bind his hands and feet together. He was unconscious.

Jubilee's voice sounded tiny in the echo of the large building. "I guess we just follow the bodies, huh?"



"Ah still think you shoulda just let me take care of those guards. Ah kin handle a couple of minds for awhile."

Wolverine sniffed the air again, checking for more security. "We need to move fast now. We don't know who could have been watching the security tapes, and we don't need to be surprised by any extra soldiers."

"Yeah, Ah know. Still, ya didn't have to be so brutal with that last one."

Wolverine growled. "He shot you."

Rogue fingered the injury on her left shoulder. It wasn't too bad, but it had still hurt. "Still, ya practically disemboweled him."

Wolverine grinned. "Yeah."

Rogue rolled her eyes as they reached another door. As Wolverine made short work of the lock, they both froze as a mechanical grinding noise echoed through the walls.

"The elevator," Wolverine said grimly. "Someone else is here. We gotta dig it."

Together, he and Rogue rushed the weapons room. It was huge, with stacks of crates on either side. Each one contained explosives, chemicals, or other methods of destruction. Wolverine and Rogue quickly made their way across the floor to their goal. Suddenly, a gust of wind sprang up in front of them, blowing them backwards. Rogue and Wolverine scrambled to hold onto something.

"Stop!" Cyclops commanded. He and the rest of the team ran forward as Storm ceased her wind tunnel.

"Shit," swore Rogue. "We don't have time for this!"

Wolverine roared and leapt towards Cyclops. Dodging the other man's optic blasts he tackled him to the floor. Wolverine's claws slid from their sheaths. He pointed them down at Cyclops, who grabbed his arm, trying to keep the deadly metal from reaching him. Storm took to the air, and Jean approached Rogue.

"Stop right there, Rogue."

Rogue turned to her with a panicked expression. "Who are you! How do you know mah name?"

"My name is Jean Grey. I'm one of the X-Men."

"No! You're lying! Get away from me!"

"Rogue, it's okay—"

"GET AWAY!" Rogue screamed. Clutching her head, she collapsed into a ball on the floor.

Concerned, Jean rushed over to calm her. As she knelt down beside her, Rogue rolled to the side and struck out with her leg, striking Jean square in the chest. Jean flew backwards, as the air was knocked out of her. Rogue stood up and started towards her, but a bolt of lightening struck the ground in front of her.

"Do not come any closer," warned Storm from the air.

"No," Jean gasped. She stood up and glared at Rogue. "She's mine."

Rogue smiled and gestured for Jean to approach her. When Jean stepped forward, Rogue swung her fist at her face. Jean quickly put up her telekinetic field. Dropping it again, she reached out with her telepathy to touch Rogue's mind. As Rogue felt the touch of Jean's mind on hers she briefly released all the personas in her head. Jean screamed as the thoughts overwhelmed her.

Cyclops heard Jean's scream. "Jean!" he yelled. Firing an optic blast at Wolverine, he sent the other man sailing back into a crate along the wall. Quickly, he stood up and ran to where Jean stood with Rogue.

Wolverine growled and picked himself up off the ground. He took a step towards Cyclops and grunted as a burst of fireworks hit him. Looking to the side he saw a girl in a bright yellow raincoat holding her hands in front of her.

"Stay away from Cyclops!" she shouted.

Wolverine turned to face her. She tried to blast him again, but he easily dodged her fireworks. Jumping closer to her, he knocked her down. Raising his claws, he stopped for a moment. She was just a kid. Hesitation stopped his arm, but his pity cost him. Without warning a lightening bolt struck his upheld adamantium claws, sending an electric current through his skeleton. His eyes went wide, and he collapsed, twitching.

Rogue and Jean had been circling one another, each looking for a moment of weakness in the other. Cyclops stood a little ways off, trying to get a clear shot, in case Jean needed him. Rogue looked over Jean's shoulder and saw Storm strike Wolverine down.

"Wolverine!" she cried. With a snarl she charged Jean. As she and the other woman fell to the floor, Cyclops raised a hand to his visor. Rogue looked up in distress.

"NO!"

Too late, Jean realized what was wrong. "Scott, DON'T!"

They both closed their eyes as Cyclops' optic blast hit the crate behind Rogue and Jean. The crate exploded, and the force of it knocked Jean and Rogue both across the room, where they hit the wall, hard. Cyclops was blown a few feet short of the wall, and Jubilee and Storm missed it entirely. Storm flew back down to the floor and Jubilee came out from behind the other crates.

They both looked at their unconscious opponents and teammate as Cyclops rose and shook off his disorientation.

"Jean is gonna be pissed," Jubilee said slowly.



The first thing Rogue became aware of when she regained consciousness was the sound of voices from somewhere directly to her right. Years of training kept her body in check, remaining perfectly still to maintain the illusion that she was still unconscious. Fighting the urge to open her eyes and look around, she instead concentrated on making out what the voices were saying.

"I still think we should have her in a more secure location. Who knows what she's capable of?"

Rogue frowned internally. That voice sounded familiar.

"The restraints here in the Med Lab should be more than adequate, Scott. I doubt Rogue presents much of a threat at this point."

The speech of the second man marked him as older and well-educated. Gentle pressure against her wrists and ankles confirmed what he said, as Rogue realized she was strapped down to some sort of hospital bed. Resisting the need to check the constraints resistance, Rogue forced herself to keep listening. After a few moments of silence, she realized they'd stopped speaking. She froze, straining to hear sounds of movement. Maybe they'd left?

"You can stop pretending now, Rogue," the older voice said.

Hesitating for just a split second, Rogue reluctantly opened her eyes. Beside her, a bald man in a green suit was sitting in a bright yellow chair. With a sense of dread, Rogue recognized him as Professor Xavier from television. His eyes were warm and Rogue was tempted to dismiss him as an immediate threat. However, numerous warnings from her mother echoed in her head and she reminded herself that the man was a powerful telepath. Looking at Xavier's companion, Rogue recognized the man from the military base who had blasted the crate that knocked her and the red-headed woman unconscious. He was still in his uniform and he didn't look happy at all.

Rogue's mind worked furiously to come up with a plan of action. Going for something basic, Rogue paused for a moment before letting out a laugh. This seemed to make Scott even less happy.

"What's so funny?" he asked hotly.

"You," Rogue smirked. "You knocked your own teammate out."

Scott's face flushed red and Rogue congratulated herself on her hit.

"I knocked you out too, didn't I?" he snapped.

Rogue tried to shrug within her straps. "Still funny."

Scott fumed. "I suppose you think genocide is funny too, is that it? Is that why you were--?"

"Scott that's enough," Professor Xavier broke in. Laying a restraining hand on Cyclops' shoulder, he waited for him to calm down before turning back to Rogue.

"Please, allow me to make some introductions. My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is my associate Scott Summers. I believe you two have met."

Rogue smirked again and Scott grit his teeth. Xavier spoke up before they could start bickering again.

"Rogue, I would like to ask you a few questions about last night."

Rogue remained silent. Xavier sighed.

"Rogue, I honestly don't expect you to confide anything in me. But I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I didn't at least try to find out what made you hate humans so bad."

Rogue frowned. "What?"

Xavier's eyes were sad as he looked back at her. "Rogue, do you honestly think that genocide is the answer?"

Now Rogue was thoroughly confused. "What the Hell are you talking about? Ah don't know anything about genocide unless you're talking about what the humans have planned for us."

"You don't honestly expect us to believe that it's just a coincidence that you just so happened to try to steal three quadraphasic hollow point missile heads three days after robbing Pharm-Tech?" Scott scoffed. "What exactly were you going to use those missiles for?"

Rogue glared at him. "Maybe we were just disarming the humans so they couldn't use those damn missiles on us!"

"Then why did you break into Pharm-Tech?" Xavier asked.

Rogue's eyes sparkled with repressed anger. "We were freeing mutants you self-righteous prick."

"Then why set the big jailbreak for the next day?" Cyclops demanded. "Why not release them that night when you had the chance?"

"Because we wanted to make sure the news was there to destroy Kroker's credibility. What's the point of releasing them in the dead of the night so the bastard could deny they were ever there?!" Part of Rogue's brain was screaming at her to stop talking before she gave away more information than she should, but Cyclops had tapped into a part of her that felt a passionate need to defend the woman who had raised her as her own for fifteen years.

"So you didn't take anything?" Xavier asked softly.

Rogue turned wild eyes on him. "Maybe we did. Maybe we took his money so that he couldn't fix his torture chamber of a lab."

"Are you certain that's all you took?" he prodded gently.

Doubt flickered in Rogue's eyes for a brief second. Mystique hadn't told her what was in the files she'd downloaded, but Rogue didn't want to admit that she didn't know what her mother had taken. Falling silent, she just watched Xavier and Scott.

"Rogue," Xavier began carefully. "I'm going to tell you some things. I don't want you to respond right now, and you're free to believe me or not, but please just listen." He took a deep breath. "We know that Dr. Kroker was working on a biochemical serum to use against mutants. Those chemicals, properly re-formulated, would be a powerful biological weapon, effective only on the human population." He looked Rogue in the eye. "Those missile heads you were trying to steal would have allowed someone to detonate the chemical and cause an outbreak that could have killed every human on the east coast."

Rogue struggled not to let her emotions show on her face. "Ah don't believe you. You're lying, Mama always told me you were a liar."

Xavier's eyes held a touch of pity. "I don't expect you to believe me. Perhaps, you would believe your teammate?"

Rogue's heart sank and her stomach turned. Was it true? Had Wolverine known?

Xavier watched her sympathetically. He nodded to Scott, who began releasing the straps that held her down. Rogue sat up slowly, her eyes staring off into space.

"Rogue, from what little I know of your powers I dare say you have all the answers you need. However, like me, you seem to be adverse to invading others' privacy whenever it is avoidable." Rogue kept her head down. Xavier reached over and placed a hand on her arm. "Being partners requires a lot of trust. Let him earn yours by telling you the truth voluntarily. Ask him Rogue. Give him a chance."

Rogue slowly raised her head. Looking into Xavier's kind face, she found herself nodding. "Okay," she said quietly. She felt so numb and confused; she didn't even stop to wonder why Xavier was being so reassuring or why he seemed to care about her trust in Wolverine.

Xavier smiled encouragingly. "If you would like, Rogue, I would be happy to talk with you, if you ever need a sympathetic ear."

"No, thanks, but Ah can't. Mama wouldn't . . ." she trailed off. Unshed tears burned her eyes. Rogue felt like someone had yanked her world out from under her. She looked up at Xavier. "Ah have ta go. Ah need ta think." She slid off the hospital bed and left the room, walking aimlessly down the hall.



"Child, are you all right?"

Startled, Rogue snapped out of her reverie. Looking up, she recognized the woman who had spoken as the one who called the wind, back at the military base. Her long silver hair was in sharp contrast with her dark skin and the overall effect was a regal aura that commanded respect.

Storm looked at her in concern. "Rogue? Are you all right?" she asked again.

"Everyone keeps askin' me that," Rogue mumbled. "What the Hell do you want?"

"We only wish to help, Rogue," Storm assured her gently.

The fact that she insisted on continually using her name grated on Rogue's nerves. It was one thing when the world's most powerful telepath managed to get inside her head and destroy years of hard training, but listening to one of his precious X-Men using dime store psychobabble really pissed her off. Taking a deep breath, she schooled her features into a cool mask of indifference and fixed Storm with a level gaze.

"Look, weather witch. Ah'm not stupid. Ya'll don't wanna help me. Ya want me to go home and tell mah mama what a bad person she is. Ya want me to stop bein' such an evil villain and find a way to peacefully coexist." Her eyes narrowed. "Well, it's not gonna happen. Ah'm not gonna help you take down mah mother just because your boss knows what buttons to push."

Storm looked at her closely, a concentrated look on her face. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it because she nodded and offered Rogue her bare hand.

"What?"

Storm's gaze did not waver. "Touch me, Rogue."

Rogue looked at her. "Are you serious?"

Storm smiled serenely. "Rogue, I cannot ask you to trust me because I have not given you any reason to. However, I want you to understand, to believe, that we only want to help." She turned her hand palm up. "I am on my way to check on your friend Wolverine. I would like to face him knowing I did all I could to assure your comfort."

"Wolverine," Rogue sighed. "Ah almost forgot." She looked at Storm's hand, then shook her head. "Ah can't leave him here."

"If he is well, he will be released within the hour," Storm promised.

"Why should Ah believe that?" Rogue scoffed.

Storm arched an eyebrow. "I believe I am offering an answer to that question."

Rogue still looked suspicious. "Ah don't know . . ."

Storm held her hand up between them. "Then find out."

Rogue watched her carefully, as she removed one of her gloves. Slowly, she reached her hand up and touched her bare skin to Storm's. Her powers kicked in and Rogue quickly pulled back after a few seconds. Storm swayed a little on her feet, but did not fall.

"You'll feel a little woozy for a minute, but Ah didn't take much," Rogue said, reaching out to steady her. Learning what she just had, she didn't feel very steady herself.

Storm nodded and closed her eyes as the dizziness washed over her. When she stood straight up again, Rogue made sure she could stand on her own and then let go of her.

"Tell Wolverine, Ah'm in the park," Rogue called over her shoulder as she ran out of the mansion, her newly acquire memories guiding her.

Storm watched her go with the peaceful sense that she had done the right thing. Taking a deep breath, she turned and left to find Wolverine.



Wolverine groaned as he regained consciousness. His eyelids fluttered open and he had to blink a few times to focus. As he took in his surroundings, he was somewhat disturbed to find everything tinted in pink. Moving to sit up, his arms and legs met with empty air. Disoriented, Wolverine shook his head. As his mind processed what was happening he realized he was floating in some kind of a pink cylindrical force field.

Releasing his claws, Wolverine swiped at the wall of the force field to no avail. With a roar he began dragging his claws over anything he could reach, trying to deactivate the force field.

As he futilely struggled to escape his pink prison, the door to the room opened and a black woman with flowing white hair entered. She walked over to where Wolverine floated in the force field.

"Hello, Wolverine," she said pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"

Wolverine stopped slashing long enough to fix her with a glare.

"How do you think I'm feeling?" Wolverine snapped. "What's with the de-masculinating force field?"

"The anti-gravitational chamber's first use is healing, Wolverine," Storm pointed out, suppressing a smile. "You were injured quite badly, I'm afraid."

"I'm fine, no thanks to you. I heal fast, I don't need your lousy cage to help me."

"Yes, I see." Storm pulled a chair over from one of the nearby desks. She still felt a little weak. Wolverine watched her closely.

"If you want to help me, why not let me go?" he asked.

Storm smiled serenely. "Soon, Wolverine. First, I must ask you what you were doing at that military base."

"What were you doing there?" he countered.

"We were there to stop you," Storm replied easily. "Mystique is not known for having . . . admirable goals. I'm surprised you share her ideas," she responded levelly.

"It's just a job," Wolverine muttered. "Nuthin' personal."

Storm shook her head sadly. "I wonder, does Rogue feel the same way?"

Wolverine's eyes widened. "Where is she?! What have you done with her?!"

"Calm yourself, Wolverine. Rogue is fine, she had a talk with Professor Xavier."

Wolverine's spirits fell. Professor Xavier. The leading voice in peace avocation between humans and mutants. The thorn in Mystique's side. Wolverine sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't even want to think about the effect the world's most powerful telepath would have on Rogue. When he opened his eyes again, Storm could see his resignation.

"I need to see her," he said simply.

Storm nodded in understanding. "She said to tell you she was in the park."

Standing and walking over to the controls, she turned to face him. "I do not believe we have anything to fear from you." She flipped the switch and Wolverine dropped to his feet.

"Not today," he said softly as he left. Steeling himself, he set off to find Rogue.



The park was peaceful as usual. The sun was bright, the trees were doing their best to dance gracefully in the breeze. The beautiful surroundings didn't do much, however, for the young woman sitting on the park bench. Huddled up, her knees tucked against her chest, it wasn't hard to believe her world was crumbling beneath her. When she heard footsteps approaching, she couldn't even raise her eyes to meet the man who had, in such a short time, had such a profound effect on her previously simple life. For a few moments, he just stood there.

"Did you know?" Rogue said finally, breaking the silence.

Wolverine didn't need to ask what she was talking about. Professor Xavier had no doubt put everything together and figured out what Mystique was up to. The fact that Rogue suspected that he had known as well made him uneasy. He was unsure as to whether she suspected he knew because Xavier had suspected he knew or if she was getting something from what she'd absorbed from him. In light of this doubt, Wolverine decided honesty was best.

"I suspected," he said quietly.

"What was your job?" Rogue asked woodenly.

"I was hired to get you into the military base and steal the missile heads."

"If Mama went outside the Brotherhood to get you, you had to be needed for a special skill. What was it?" her voice almost broke as the last word came out. Part of her screamed that she didn't want to know.

"That base is top secret, even among the big boys. I have . . . experience . . . with all things "top secret." He popped his claws to emphasize his point.

Rogue looked him directly in the eyes. "Did you know mah mama was plannin' genocide?"

Wolverine returned the stare. "I didn't know when I accepted the job."

Rogue watched him a few minutes longer before nodding slowly. Finally, she sighed, breaking the tension that had been steadily building. Wolverine walked over and sat down next to her on the bench. Rogue stared down at her knees.

"Ah never asked." She took a shaky breath. "Ah always just did what Ah was told."

Wolverine reached an arm around her and Rogue let her head rest on his shoulder. He sighed. Emotions weren't exactly his strong suit.

"Hey, it's okay," he tried to comfort her.

Rogue pushed away from him. "It's not okay! What am Ah supposed to do now?"

"What do you want to do?" Wolverine asked logically.

Rogue looked at him like he was insane. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Wolverine looked confused.

"Ah can't just tell Mama Ah won't be a part of the Brotherhood!" Rogue insisted, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Then be a part of the Brotherhood," Wolverine came back helplessly. She shook her head miserably. "Ah don't wanna spend mah life tryin' to kill an entire race. Ah know they hate us, but Ah have too many people inside mah head, too many different views. Ah can't live with pointless murder."

"What do you want to do?"

A tear slid down Rogue's cheek. "Ah don't know. The Brotherhood always gave me purpose." She turned a tortured gaze to him. "Ah have no purpose without them."

"Then maybe you just need a new purpose," Wolverine suggested. Rogue snorted as another tear escaped. "Like what?"

Wolverine raked a hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. "Look, I'm the wrong person to talk to about this. I mean, basically, I just kinda try and find my past and survive to see my future." He thought for a moment. "You could try to control your powers."

Another tear trickled down her cheek and Wolverine found himself with a strange urge to reach out and brush it away.

"But where will Ah live? How will Ah live?" Rogue rambled. "Mama's always provided for me. Ah've never gone out on mah own." She sniffled. "Ah don't know how."

"Why can't you stay with your mom?" Wolverine asked, snapping his attention away from her tears.

Rogue took a deep breath. "Ever since she took me in, Mama's trained me to be a part of the Brotherhood. Ah just don't think she'll be happy if Ah tell her Ah don't want to be a member anymore."

"Well she's got to make a decision then. You're a person, not a weapon," Wolverine insisted.

Rogue looked at him in surprise. She laughed a little through her tears. "That was very deep for a hired thug."

Wolverine shrugged. "To tell the truth, I surprise myself sometimes," he admitted.

They both laughed. Rogue nodded. "Okay," she said taking a deep breath. "Time to go tell Mama."

Wolverine nodded, but inside he was already picturing the blue terrorist's reaction. Shit.



Mystique's face was calm as she scanned the different television channels for news coverage. A machine in the corner made a gentle whirring noise as it automatically monitored government frequencies. Despite having only a single occupant, the room was thick with palpable tension. The thoughts running through Mystique's head were causing an unpleasant tightness in her mouth and eyes; an expression those that worked with her knew meant big trouble for whomever she was thinking about. And right now she was thinking about Rogue and Wolverine.

A dull glow started to flare behind Mystique's golden eyes. Rogue and Wolverine had been expected back no later than 0500 hours. It was now 0900, not late enough to cause a panic, but late enough for Mystique to start looking for signs in the news of some snag. Of course, human law enforcement intervention wasn't the only unpleasant explanation that had occurred to Mystique.

Wolverine. Mystique had hired him for his infamous connections to the most top secret of government top secrecies. If there was a government installation within a hundred miles, Wolverine knew where it was. The stories about Wolverine hunting down various government compounds and slaughtering the staff were numerous and most often very graphic. And yet, not one of these stories mentioned his fondness for younger women, nor his talents for making these young women disobey their mothers.

Mystique's eyes narrowed in thought. She had spent the last fifteen years caring for Rogue. When she'd found her she was a scared little child. Under Mystique's tutelage she had blossomed into a beautiful young woman and under Mystique's training she had developed into a disciplined soldier. Now all of a sudden Wolverine has her drinking, staying out late, and not completing missions in the allowed time. Something would have to be done. Mystique was just about to call some of her contacts, when Rogue and Wolverine walked in the door.

"Hi, Mama," Rogue said nervously.

Mystique allowed only a small smile to show on her face as she moved to greet her daughter, but her relief was evident her eyes. Despite her disturbing thoughts, she was still a mother at heart. She was just about to embrace her daughter when she suddenly noticed something was missing. Stopping to take a good look at the pair that had just walked in, Mystique frowned. Neither Wolverine nor Rogue carried the modified briefcase that was to be used to transport the quadraphasic missile heads.

"Rogue, where is the briefcase?" Mystique asked slowly. Her eyes focused with alarming intensity on her daughter's and Rogue had to visibly gather herself before she answered.

"We ran into a problem, Mama," she began.

Mystique's expression remained impassive. "Go on."

"The X-Men showed up. They prevented us from reaching our objective so we were forced to abandon the missiles."

Her mother didn't even blink. "Is there anything else?" she asked quietly. "You're awfully late."

Rogue tried not to let her nervousness show, but knew it was no use. As a mother Mystique had the uncanny ability to sense when Rogue was holding something back, and all she was doing right now was delaying the inevitable. Behind her, she could feel Wolverine's presence, silently offering her strength. She took a deep breath.

"The X-Men were there, Mama," she reported truthfully. "There was a fight and we lost. Xavier's people released us this morning."

Mystique's eyes widened. "Charles Xavier? How the Hell did they know about our plans?"

Pain flickered in Rogue's eyes. "They seemed to know a lot about your plans, Mama. More than me."

Mystique frowned. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you questioning me, daughter?"

Rogue shook her head. "No, Mama. Ah've never questioned you." She looked her mother in the eyes. "But now Ah'm questioning your agenda."

"My only agenda has been to fight for our race's right to live," Mystique said firmly.

"And the humans' right to die," Wolverine added dryly.

Mystique turned a scathing look at him. "Don't you dare speak to me! And stay the Hell away from my daughter! You're fired, I want you out of my sight."

"Mama, Wolverine is not the problem!" Rogue interrupted. She walked over to her mother and took her by the shoulders. "Mama, Ah never asked any questions when you sent me on a mission. Ah trusted you and Ah followed you blindly. This is all mah own fault." Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "Ah love you, Mama. But Ah can't be a part of your fight anymore."

A rainbow of emotions flickered over Mystique's face. Her hands rose slightly, as though to put her arms around her daughter, but she stopped. Composing herself, Mystique looked away from her daughter's eyes.

"All right, Rogue. All right."

Rogue hesitated before dropping her arms to her sides. She couldn't tell what her mother was thinking, but she could sense her distress.

"Mama, just because Ah'm not a part of the Brotherhood doesn't mean Ah'm not your daughter anymore," Rogue insisted, her voice shaking.

Mystique nodded as she turned and walked back to her desk. Standing beside the large metal obstruction, she seemed almost fragile. Keeping her eyes on the desk, Mystique ran a hand across the drawer.

"You will always be my daughter, Rogue. Never doubt that." She opened the drawer. "And never doubt that, as your mother, I will always know what's best for you."

Before Rogue could react, Mystique grabbed a gun from the drawer and leveled it at Wolverine. Rogue jerked in surprise, but Wolverine's face remained impassive.

"You've taken something very important from me," Mystique said calmly. "And now you're going to pay." Her yellow eyes seemed to glow as she pointed the weapon at Wolverine's chest.

Throughout her short speech, Wolverine remained impassive. Regardless of what kind of gun that was, he was confident it couldn't cause him any lasting damage. Better to let the woman get it out of her system and take her down after the first wave of adrenaline passed. He watched, stone-faced, as Mystique pulled the trigger.

"Mama, NO!"

Mystique and Wolverine both watched in horror as Rogue shoved Wolverine out of the way. Time seemed to slow down as the energy gun's ray pierced her chest.

"ROGUE!" Mystique and Wolverine both shouted as one. Mystique dropped the gun and rushed to her daughter, but Wolverine got there first. Crawling to her body, he cradled her head in his lap.

"Rogue," Mystique sobbed. "Rogue, you fool, he has a healing factor; it wouldn't have killed him."

Rogue's eyes stared blankly up at them. Her body convulsed as she tried to draw in enough breath to speak, making a horrible wheezing noise as blood spluttered in her lungs.

"Wasn't thinking, Mama . . . had . . . to save . . ." She coughed, her eyes glazing over as waves of pain broke over her body. "Ah'm sorry . . . Ah have . . . to leave you . . . Mama."

"Shhhhh," Wolverine hushed her. "You're not leaving anyone."

Without a second thought he leaned his head down. Gently, he brushed his lips over hers, bracing himself for the rush of her powers. As the transfer opened, Rogue's body jerked, her flesh beginning the painful process of repairing itself. For a moment, she responded to the kiss, part of her not willing to give up the one chance she had for a willing skin-to-skin touch. All too soon, she felt Wolverine's mouth relax and, taking her cue, she pushed him away to keep from draining him too much. He fell back slightly as she sat up.

In the tradition of mothers everywhere, Mystique reached past Wolverine's sagging body and grabbed Rogue into a hug.

"Don't you ever do that again," she whispered fiercely. "You can leave the Brotherhood, but so help me God, you will NOT leave me."

Rogue smiled as a tear slid down her cheek, touched at the emotion in her mother's voice.

Wolverine's healing factor was working fast to help him recover from his weakness and he chose that moment to sit up.

"Listen to your mother," he groaned. "A guy can only do this so many times."

The tension broke and Rogue and Mystique were helpless not to laugh.



The sun was just rising as Rogue packed the last of her things into her bag. Wolverine was waiting for her outside and she didn't want to pack too much just yet. His offer to let her live with him until she decided what she wanted to do had come as a welcome surprise, but she still didn't know exactly where they were going. Thus, she found herself trying to think of what she might need in the next few days and what she wouldn't need for a few weeks. The problem was that lately she had no idea what it was she needed. She sighed.

"You're sure you won't stay?"

Rogue smiled at the sound of Mastermind's voice. Turning around, she saw the woman who had been her mother's lover and her second parent as long as she could remember.

"You know your mother is going to miss you terribly," the older woman said kindly, coming to stand behind her. "As will I."

Rogue put the last of her belongings in a suitcase. "Ah'm sure," she said for what felt like the millionth time that day. "Ah appreciate the offer, but now that Ah'm not a part of the Brotherhood, Ah'd just feel out of place here."

"It would make you uncomfortable, to watch our missions?" Mastermind observed wisely.

Rogue nodded. "Yeah. And don't think Ah don't know how persuasive Mama can be."

Mastermind laughed. "Don't I know it."

Rogue closed her suitcase. "Well, that's it." She turned around, feeling her stomach tighten as she realized that the goodbye was coming. She hugged Mastermind.

"Take care of yourself, Rogue," Mastermind whispered.

"Always," Rogue assured her, her throat constricting as she tried not to let the tears fall.

As Mastermind left the room, Rogue turned bleary eyes on one last sweep of her room. As her eyes fell on her row of books, Rogue smiled. Zipping up her duffel bag, she turned and left the room. Behind her remained the row of gun manuals, with a little too much space where the lone romance novel had once been kept.



"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Wolverine said, smiling. He looked down at her single bag. "That all you're bringing?"

"You saying Ah could fit anything else on that thing?" Rogue asked, looking pointedly at his motorcycle.

Wolverine rolled his eyes. "No need for sarcasm," he muttered swinging his leg over the bike and starting the engine.

Rogue laughed and climbed on behind him.

"Your mom isn't gonna see you off?" Wolverine threw over his shoulder, wanting to be careful and avoid coming between this explosive mother-daughter relationship.

"Nah," Rogue said, shaking her head. "Mama never liked goodbyes."

As they started down the driveway and turned out onto the road, something occurred to Rogue.

"Hey, Wolverine, didn't we leave your bike in the truck at the military base?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but don't worry, it's not traceable," Wolverine assured her.

Rogue was silent for a moment.

"Um, then where did you get this bike?" she asked finally.

Wolverine grinned. "Remember One-Eye, the X-Man?"

The End
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