***** Moonlight shot silver javelins through the darkness of the forest, piercing the shadows and providing the faintest of light for the woman fleeing for her life. Her heart pounded hard in her chest and her blood pounded in her ears. Blind fear drove her to move faster and faster, only the faint sounds of something crashing through the forest behind her giving her any clue as to why she was running. Branches reached out at her like bony hands, each one trying to snare her and hold her prisoner for her tireless pursuers. She didn't know who they were or what she wanted, but there was no doubt in her mind that if they caught her it would be all over.
Suddenly, her foot caught in the bared root of a tree. Stifling a scream, she felt her body pitch forward. As she hit the ground, her arm flew out and landed on something solid to her left. Quickly rolling over and trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her left hand, she felt along the ground. Finding a rocky edge with the slightest of concaves beneath it, she quickly scurried over the ledge and pressed herself underneath the overhang.
She waited as her pulse raced and her chest heaved. Soon she heard footsteps approaching fast and the sounds of people running over and past her hiding place. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to stay as still and quiet as possible, hoping against hope that the hunters wouldn't find her. It seemed like she waited for hours before the sounds faded and she felt safe enough to lean out and look around. Seeing no one, she let out a huge breath of relief and carefully crawled out. With one last look towards the lightening horizon, she turned to climb back over the rocky ledge -- and found herself face to face with the muzzle of a rifle.*****
Rogue's eyes shot open and she suddenly found herself staring, cross-eyed, at the end of Wolverine's finger only inches away from her forehead.
"AAAHHHH!" she screamed, images from her dream merging with her first disoriented glimpse of reality.
There was a growl from directly in front of her and instantly the finger was gone. Shooting into a sitting position, Rogue found herself sitting in her hotel bed with her back pressed against the headboard. Wolverine was kneeling in front of her, his hands pressed over his ears, glaring daggers at her.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing!" Rogue screeched, trying to catch her breath. "What are you doing in mah bed—" naked.
The last word was said silently as Rogue's brain finally caught up to her. She was sitting in her bed staring at a kneeling naked Wolverine. Her breath hitched in her throat and her face flushed a deep shade of red. She was just about to start babbling when Wolverine shifted slightly and she caught a flash of gray sweatpants. With a start, she realized that he wasn't naked, but had merely appeared that way because of his position among the blankets. Rogue felt a stab of disappointment. Then she realized what she was doing and snapped her attention away from Wolverine's pants and looked him in the eye.
"Well?" Wolverine prodded.
Rogue blushed again. Shaking herself, she forced her eyes to stay on Wolverine's face.
"Why what?" she responded hotly.
Wolverine glared at her. "Weren't you even listening? What the Hell is wrong with you?"
"What the Hell is wrong with you?" Rogue fired back. "You're sitting in mah bed half-naked. Do you have a death wish?"
Wolverine stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "You weren't listening," he observed in amusement.
Rogue gritted her teeth. She had just woken up from a horrible nightmare to find a furry Canadian in her bed. She was disoriented, irritated, and embarrassed that she couldn't seem to help staring at his chest. Now he was making her feel stupid.
"Spit it out and get out of mah bed," she said through her teeth.
"I had a thought" he said matter-of-factly.
"Is it lonely?" Rogue asked nastily.
He gave her a withering look. "Finished?"
She rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.
"I was just wondering if your powers worked when you were sleeping."
"And you thought that you'd just tap me while Ah was sleeping and find out?" she asked flatly.
Wolverine nodded. "Straight and to the point. Would have answered my question wouldn't it?"
Rogue thought about pointing out that it also would have allowed her to wake up with yet more of his memories, plus an unconscious body in her bed, but decided that it wasn't worth arguing with his logic.
"Well, Ah'm awake now. Guess you'll just have to go on wondering," she said dismissively.
She moved to the side of the bed and stood up. She stood there for a moment waiting for Wolverine to stand up, but Wolverine didn't move. She looked at him, as he sat there staring at her.
"What?" she asked, unnerved.
He stood up and walked around to stand in front of her. The grace and power of his deliberate movement reminded Rogue of a lion stalking his prey and she found her eyes riveted to his bare chest yet again. In the entire fifteen years she had lived with Mystique, Rogue had never really had an opportunity to see a man's naked skin this closely. Her teammates were careful to remain covered at all times and she was careful to keep a safe distance from strangers who didn't know any better. His next words, however, snapped her right back to attention.
"Touch me."
Rogue's mouth fell open. "Come again?"
"Touch me," he repeated.
Rogue backed away slowly, debating on whether she would be able to get across the bed and out the door before he caught up to her.
"Now, Wolverine, don't you think it's a little early to be drinking?" she joked feebly.
Wolverine rolled his eyes. "Look, you want to learn to control your powers, right?"
Rogue nodded slowly, careful not to agitate him with disagreement.
"Well, how are you gonna learn if you never try?" Wolverine asked, exasperated.
"Well that is a good question," Rogue agreed quickly. "Ah should ponder that while Ah'm in the shower."
Nonchalantly, she tried to sidle around him, but he stepped in front of her. His muscles bunched under his skin and he grinned at her. The combined effect was somewhat distracting, and Rogue was forced to do the only thing she could think of. She screamed.
"Godammit!" Wolverine swore, slapping his hands over his ears. Sometimes supersensitive hearing could be a real bitch.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Rogue darted around him and made a beeline for the bathroom. Slamming the door behind her, she quickly locked it. In the bedroom, she could hear Wolverine stomp over to the door.
"Rogue, you're gonna have to try sometime," Wolverine insisted. He heard the shower blast to life and growled. "Women. Always making things more difficult than they have to be," he muttered.
Thirty minutes later, Rogue opened the door to the bathroom and carefully stuck her head out. The bedroom seemed empty. She listened intently, but all she heard was the television in the living room. Quietly, Rogue gripped her towel to her and slipped out of the bathroom.
"What's wrong with that man, anyway?" Rogue murmured to herself. "`Touch me' indeed. Man's got a death wish. Serve him right if Ah did touch him."
Walking over to the chair her suitcase sat on, Rogue opened it up to remove her clothes. She had to hurry if she was going to get dressed before Wolverine knew she was out of the shower.
Wolverine watched out of the crack in the closet door as Rogue came out of the bathroom. He smiled. She had left the shower running to try and fool him into thinking she was still in there. Nice try, he thought to himself.
As he watched her walk over to her suitcase, Wolverine felt a little silly. As a grown man, he didn't think he should allow himself to be reduced to hiding in a woman's closet, just so he could get her in a position to touch him.
Wolverine winced as he realized how that last thought sounded. Shaking his head, Wolverine looked up at the shelf of the closet. He had to get a grip on himself. He just wanted to help Rogue, that's all. She'd said she wanted to learn control over her powers, and she was damn well going to do it.
Feeling better after having reasserted his goal, Wolverine nodded to himself. Focused once again on the task at hand, he looked back out through the crack in the closet door-- just as Rogue dropped her towel.
His breath caught in his throat and he almost choked. Flashes of watching Rogue change into the guards uniform during their raid on Pharm-Tech leapt to the forefront of his mind. However, unlike the last time he'd seen her, this time she was completely naked. There was no cover of darkness and no pressing mission to consider. All of a sudden he felt like he had nothing to do, but stare at the perfect expanse of creamy smooth skin standing before him. His eyes traveled hungrily over her muscled shoulders and down her slender back. Visually devouring the beautiful curve of her buttocks and incredibly long legs, he temporarily forgot his reason for hiding. Just as he was about to step out of the closet, he stopped himself. Looking down at the tented state of his sweatpants, he shook himself and relaxed back against the wall of the closet. He was going to need a moment to calm down.
Rogue froze, tilting her head. She could have sworn she'd heard a choking sound coming from somewhere in her room. Hastily grabbing her shirt, she held it in front of her as she turned around. Her eyes scanned the room, but she didn't see anyone. Leaning over a bit, she could just barely see the TV in the next room. A special on Gray Wolves was on. Rogue leaned over a little further, but half the couch was still hidden from her view. Frowning, she straightened up and turned back to the wall and got dressed in hurry.
After she was finished, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for Wolverine. She just had to be firm with him, she reasoned. She wasn't going to use him as a guinea pig, no matter how logical, or tempting, it might seem. Nodding to herself, she turned around and walked to the door leading into the living room.
Wolverine grinned as he stepped out of the closet, blocking her path.
"Ready?" he asked innocently.
Rogue jumped in surprise. Recovering quickly, she smiled kindly at Wolverine. "Ah am so glad you feel this comfortable with me." She put a hand on his shoulder and Wolverine's eyes narrowed.
"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously.
Now it was Rogue's turn to look innocent. "Ah'm just offering you mah support. It's not everyday a man like you gets the courage to come out of the closet."
Wolverine quirked his eyebrow at her implication. "You think I've come out of the closet, huh?"
Rogue nodded compassionately. "Yeah."
A playful glint lit Wolverine's eyes and Rogue felt her pulse pick up a little. Suddenly, she was very aware that her hand was still resting on his shoulder.
"Well," Wolverine said slowly. "I would always be willing to go back into the closet."
Rogue jerked her hand back and stepped backwards. Wolverine smiled and continued.
"And as long as you need the practice, I guess I could always take you with me." He took a step forward, his body almost touching hers. Rogue's eyes nervously darted around the room. Looking out into the main room, she spotted the television. "Oh look! A Gray Wolf special!"
Wolverine looked confused and Rogue took advantage of the moment and pushed past him. She jumped over the back of the couch, and pretended to be helplessly captivated by the Discovery Channel. Wolverine rolled his eyes.
"I give up," he announced, walking into the main room. "If you don't want to learn to control your powers, I'm not gonna force you." Rogue nodded, still watching the television. "Good idea. Very wise." Just then the phone rang. Wolverine gave Rogue one last look and then walked over to answer the phone.
"Yeah?" He was silent for a minute. "Does he want the entire thing gone, or just the one section?" Silence. "Fine, but that's gonna cost him." Silence. "I`ll be in Laughlin City by tonight." Silence. "I'm stopping there on the way, probably be another night before I get back." Silence. "Uh-huh. Fine, just make sure he pays first." He hung up the phone.
"Did you know that wolves are more afraid of humans than humans are of them?" Rogue called from her spot on the couch. "Ah mean, this guy says that if you were to put a man in a cage with a wolf, the wolf would cower in a corner and practically piss itself. It wouldn't even fight back."
When Wolverine didn't answer, she turned to look at him. He seemed lost in thought.
"Who was on the phone?"
"A guy. He has a job for me."
"How did he know you were here?" she asked curiously.
"They're our kind of people," Wolverine said meaningfully.
Understanding dawned on Rogue's face. "Ah."
Wolverine nodded. "Yeah, `ah.' Now get ready, we're leaving." He grabbed his jacket and bag on his way to the door. "I'm gonna go make sure the truck's ready."
Rogue nodded, and stood up to turn off the TV.
***** Gray Wolves mate for life. This wolf has challenged the Alpha wolf's dominance by attempting to mate with the Alpha's female. [sounds of snapping and growling]*****
Rogue grimaced. "Brutal." Then she turned off the television set and went into her room to get her things.
Rogue sighed as she looked out the window of the truck at the passing scenery. The sky was already getting dark and all around them the snow was piling up. Still, even the sparkling blanket of white couldn't do anything for the appearance of the run down buildings that lined the rundown side street they had turned on to. The She rolled her head against her seat so she could look at Wolverine.
"Ah thought you said we were gonna try to make it as far as Laughlin City before we stopped?"
Wolverine glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was huddled up against the passenger door, her legs tucked up underneath her. Against the pure white background of snow out the window, she had an innocence about her he hadn't noticed when she was carrying the plasma gun. Shaking the oddly disconcerting thoughts from his head, he snorted.
"This *is* Laughlin City," he said, answering her question.
He pulled the car into a surprisingly crowded parking lot outside a particularly run down building. Putting the truck into park, he opened his door and stepped out. Rogue followed suit, coming around the truck to stand beside him facing the building.
Rogue raised her eyebrows. "Nice place. Come here often?"
"Nope. This'll be a learning experience for both of us."
She made a face and Wolverine chuckled. "Relax, tomorrow we're on our way to Banff."
Rogue giggled.
"What?" Wolverine asked, looking around to see what had caught her fancy.
"Nothing," Rogue shook her head, still smiling. "It's just the name of that city sounds like the noise mah brother makes when he teleports."
The blue bitch does have more kids, Wolverine thought despairingly.
"I didn't know you had a brother," he said out loud.
Rogue nodded as they started to walk towards the front door. "His name's Kurt, but everybody calls him Nightcrawler." She sighed. "He's in Germany right now, though."
"Mission for the Brotherhood?" Wolverine asked.
"Monastery actually," Rogue corrected him.
That got Wolverine's attention. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. Rogue didn't notice he had stopped until she'd already gone a few steps ahead of him. As she realized he was no longer walking beside her, she turned back to see what happened.
"What?" she asked, bewildered.
Wolverine shook his head. "I just can't believe your mother raised a monk. I mean look at—"
Suddenly, a little voice in his head started screaming at him to stop talking. He abruptly shut his mouth. He looked up and saw that he was too late. Rogue was staring at him with a mixture of hurt and anger in her eyes. Setting her lips in a firm line she marched back to where he was standing, and Wolverine had to suppress the urge to take a step back.
"Look at what, Wolverine? Look at me? You can't believe Mama raised Kurt to be a monk when Ah turned out to be a -- a --" sputtering to a stop, she just stared at him.
Wolverine felt his stomach sink at the look on her face. It wasn't a feeling he was used to having and it took him a minute to figure out what the emotion was. His eyes widened slightly as he realized it was guilt. Wolverine shook himself mentally. What the Hell was happening to him?
"Why did you invite me to stay with you?"
Wolverine's head snapped up. "What?"
Rogue drew herself up a little taller. "Why did you invite me to come and stay with you?"
Wolverine shuffled his feet. "It's like I said, I feel partially responsible for --"
"For what? Taking care of me?" Rogue searched his face. "You think because I've lived with mah mama for my whole life that Ah couldn't make it on mah own?"
"No, I--"
"Ah left the Brotherhood because Ah didn't agree with what they stood for. It was mah choice." Her eyes shined as she glared at him. "Ah don't need your pity, Wolverine."
For a few long minutes, Wolverine didn't didn't say anything. Staring at this young spitfire who was so convinced he saw her as a charity case, he couldn't help but start to wonder just what it was that had made him offer her his own place to stay. The Wolverine wasn't in the habit of taking in young women. The women who occasionally made brief appearances in his life were seasoned souls, women who knew exactly what they were doing in his life and for exactly how long they would be doing it. Now all of a sudden he found himself looking for answers to honest questions and coming up with nothing.
Like a shot, Rogue's hand shot out and grabbed a handful of his shirt. With strength that surprised even Wolverine she jerked him to her so that their faces were only inches apart.
"You can't fuck me, Wolverine," she ground out, her voice thick with some unidentified emotion. "And if that's why you're tryin' ta help me with mah powers then you can damn well forget it cause Ah'm not--"
The animal in Wolverine howled beneath her onslaught. Whether it was the uncomfortable thought that she had looked into his head and seen the direction his thoughts had taken or just the fact that she thought he'd go to such lengths just to get a piece of ass, he didn't know. But all of a sudden the beast inside him made a choice for him.
Snatching her by the back of the neck, he yanked her flush against his chest. A feral glint shone in his eyes as he brought his lips down on hers in a crushing kiss. At first, Rogue was too shocked to react, but as her powers began to burn along his skin, he felt her trying to pull away. Stubbornly locking an arm around her waste, he waited until she took a good drag off of his energy. Releasing her sharply, he watched her stumble back as he tried his best to stay on his feet. Shaking off the momentary weakness, he locked eyes with her.
"Don't ever make assumptions like that about me again. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I like havin' ya around? That maybe it's nice to take a woman out and know she can take care of herself?" He ran a hand through his hair. "You don't look at me like I'm some God or bullshit like that. You stand up for yourself and you're the first person, man or woman, to knock me on my ass in a long time. You wouldn't be coming with me if I didn't want ya with me." He met her eyes again. "And I don't give a shit about your skin. If I wanted to touch you . . . I would."
Silence reigned. Rogue closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. And shivered at the suggestive tone of Wolverine's words. The man was a raging river of strength and fire, and his essence shook her to the core. Though it was easier this time than the first to file the memories away, it was still a few moments before she could answer him. She looked up and met his eyes.
"Are you sure the bike's gonna be okay out here?"
Wolverine stared at her a minute and finally just nodded. He looked at the motorcycle in the bed of the truck. "It'll be fine."
"You do know you're gonna have to return it eventually."
A shadow of a smile crossed his face, but he didn't answer. In unspoken agreement, they both turned and continued their way into the run-down excuse for a building. The smell of beer and smoke hit them as they walked in. Wolverine's senses immediately perked up at the smell of blood and sweat, his adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the brief bout with Rogue's considerable powers. Shouting was coming from the other side of the room and he automatically started scanning the room.
"There's a cage with two men in it over there. Ah wonder what they're doin'?" Rogue spoke up.
Wolverine followed the direction she was pointing in. His eyes lit up as they landed on a large metal cage that took up most of the space in the bar. He grinned.
Wolverine was just about to make his way over there when a large man came ambling over to him.
"Hey, you the guy we're waiting for?" he asked, clamping a meaty hand on Wolverine's shoulder.
Rogue stifled her laughter as Wolverine stared at the man's hand. A mixture of disgust and indignation showed on his face, but the other man didn't seem to notice. "Hell, no wonder the prize money's so high, you probably bring in more money in one night than the others bring in all year."
"Prize money?" Rogue asked curiously.
The man looked over at Rogue, as if noticing her for the first time. The way he seemed to be shamelessly undressing her with his eyes made Rogue's skin crawl and she suddenly wished she was wearing lead armor. Wolverine noticed her discomfort and a growl rumbled in his chest, startling the sleazy pervert.
"Huh? Oh, you know, the prize money. Guy who lasts the longest in the cage gets a thousand dollars, etc. etc." The guy's eyes narrowed. "Haven't you done this before?"
Wolverine ignored him. "Lasts the longest against who?"
"Whoever jumps in to fight," the guy answered slowly.
Rogue looked at Wolverine. "Ah don't know, shugah. Remember what Animal Planet said about wolves when they're trapped in a cage with a human."
Wolverine turned a withering look at her and Rogue giggled. He turned back to the man.
"I'm ready."
The guy nodded slowly. His mind was finally starting to catch up with the situation and he realized that in all likelihood this guy was not the one the boss was waiting for. Still his greedy little mind also realized that this guy would do until the real guy came along. He smiled and led Wolverine to the cage.
As Rogue watched them walk away, she shook her head in amusement and went over to sit at the bar. The bartender gave her tight blue jeans and black turtleneck an appreciative glance.
"Name your poison, gorgeous," he leered.
Rogue looked away from watching Wolverine and the man standing by the cage, and faced the bartender. "Ah'll have a Canadian Gold."
"Nice choice," another voice spoke up.
Rogue turned to face the speaker. He seemed to be somewhere in his thirties with long tangled brown hair and a scruffy, unshaven face. His leather jacket had seen better days, and the T-shirt under it definitely wasn't keeping the wind out.
"Name's Rob." He smiled at Rogue and sat down on the stool beside her.
Across the room, Wolverine frowned as he watched the man talking to Rogue. He knew what the men who came here were looking for, and he didn't like the way the man was eyeing Rogue like a piece of meat.
He didn't have time to ponder it too much. He was jerked out of his reverie as he entered the cage. The crowd got silent for a moment as the announcer declared Wolverine the new challenger. As Wolverine looked around the room, the crowd whispered amongst themselves. Something about the stranger unnerved them and for a moment Wolverine didn't think anyone was going to agree to fight him.
"I'll fight him." came a confident voice from the tables. A large bald man stood up from his seat and turned around to the cheers of his friends. The word redneck was probably invented upon his birth, and he lived up to it. Ambling up to the cage, he took off his denim jacket and tossed it aside, flexing in that overly macho way men tend to do when doing manly things. Like bleeding.
Wolverine grinned in anticipation as he and the other man began to circle one another in the cage. This was going to be fun.
"Ah'm not interested, thank you."
Rogue turned her attention back to the cage fight and continued to sip on her beer, but Rob didn't look discouraged. Apparently, his bubble of hope was more like a bombshell of disallusion.
"Aw, come on, honey. You haven't even gotten to know me." He leaned in closer and Rogue could smell the alcohol on his breath. She wondered if breathing on women was his definition of buying them a drink.
She took a deep breath through her mouth and turned a tight smile on her unwanted visitor. "Look you aging Hell's Angel reject. Ah said Ah'm not interested and getting me drunk by breathing on me isn't gonna help your chances of changing mah mind. Get away from me."
The bald man jumped back as Wolverine's fist swung towards him. As the smaller man got closer, the bald man brought a fist down between his shoulder blades and Wolverine grunted, dropping down on one knee.
Rogue almost dropped her beer as the man grabbed her arm.
"You're not bein' very friendly," he murmured dangerously. "You think you're too good for me?"
Rogue felt her temper flaring up, prickling along her deadly skin. All she wanted was to be left alone in peace. If this ignorant savage didn't back off, she was going to be sorely tempted to hurt him. Badly. Thoughts of Wolverine's words came floating back to her.
*You're gonna have to try sometime.*
No, Rogue thought to herself. It would be wrong of her to use her powers on someone just because they were bothering her. Drunken rude humans were still humans.
Her lack of response seemed to be an encouraging sign for Rob. Apparently, clues needed to be applied with a sledge hammer if they were going to penetrate the layer of stupid. He leered at her and moved his hand down to her thigh.
Then again, Rogue thought, Ah'm gonna have to try sometime. She turned with a smile.
"Yeah, Jack! Nice one!"
Jack, a.k.a. bald man, smirked at Wolverine as he towered over him. Posing for the crowd, he raised his fist and brought it down towards Wolverine.
Just as his fist was about to make contact, Wolverine whipped around and brought his own fist up to block him. As they connected, Jack's face twisted in pain. Wolverine's mouth turned up in a feral grin. It was time for things to get interesting.
"Hey man, you had enough?"
The bartender looked at the man beside Rogue, as he set down another beer for her. He laid a hand on the guy's arm and Rob tilted his head up to squint at him.
"Yeah man," he said gruffly. He tried to sit up a little more, but the effort seemed to be too much for him and he put his head down on his arms.
"Hey, maybe you outta get a ride home. You don't look so good."
Rogue tried to look concerned. "Ah told him his forehead felt a little warm. Maybe he's sick." She turned and hid a smile as she took a sip of her new beer.
The big man, Jack, stumbled backwards in pain. Wolverine straightened up. He took a few slow steps towards the other man, and brought his fist up again to connect with his face. There was the sick sound of flesh bruising, as Wolverine's adamantium infused bones hit Jack's face. The man stumbled forward and Wolverine threw his head back, adamantium skull hitting the other man's head hard, knocking him into unconsciousness. Instantly, the announcer was at his side.
"What's your name?" whispered the announcer, as Jack was carried out of the cage.
"Just call me Wolverine."
The announcer nodded and held Wolverine's hand up in the air. "Ladies and gentlemen, our new King of the Cage . . . the Wolverine!"
As the crowd went wild, Wolverine suddenly remembered Rogue, and looked over to the bar. She was sitting there making eyes at a man across the room. Wolverine growled as the man got up with a knowing smirk and sauntered over to Rogue. He abruptly started out of the cage.
When he got closer to the bar, he saw Rogue talking to the guy he'd seen. Her hand was resting on the bar in front of her, and Wolverine's eyes widened when he realized she'd taken off her glove. Coming up behind her, he heard Rogue speak.
"Hmmm. It's a bit chilly in here," she purred.
The man smiled slowly. He lifted his hand and moved to put it over Rogue's bare skin. "Well you know what they say, `cold hands—`"
"Out cold," Wolverine finished for him. Grabbing the man by the shoulder, Wolverine jerked him away before he could touch Rogue's bare hand. "Scram, bub."
The guy looked like he wanted to argue, but one look at Wolverine changed his mind. He scurried away.
Wolverine turned back to Rogue. "What the Hell was that all about? You do know what he was thinking don't you?"
Rogue looked at him in amusement and pretended to think about it for a minute. "Yes," she said finally with a decisive nod. "Ah'm pretty sure he wanted to fuck me."
Wolverine's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Wh- y- how-" he sputtered.
Rogue rolled her eyes and stood up. Wolverine looked at her incredulously as she strode out of the bar, the eyes of several men following her out. Wolverine went after her. Leaving the bar, Rogue started walking back towards the truck. Wolverine ran to catch up to her. Just as he was about to grab her arm, she whipped around to face him.
"Ah was just practicing, Wolverine. Ah wasn't gonna really hurt him. Ah just thought that as long as Ah was around a bunch of drunks, it wouldn't hurt to practice. The first guy got woozy, but everyone just assumed he'd had too much to drink."
Understanding dawned on Wolverine's face. He nodded. "Good plan. Sorry I interrupted."
Rogue laughed. "So what's the plan now?"
Wolverine thought about that. "I could stay in the ring, earn some money. You feel up to practicin' some more?"
"Ah can handle a couple more. Ah can file their minds away, so Ah'm not gonna freak out or anything. However, there is one thing."
"What's that?"
"You think you can look a little less threatening? Ah don't reckon Ah'm gonna catch many flies with vinegar."
Wolverine breathed heavily as he leaned one arm against the side of the cage. He felt great. It had been too long since he'd been able to cut loose and kick some ass without having to worry about missions or security. Or liabilities.
He lifted his head to scan the crowd for Rogue and smiled when he saw her working on yet another practice dummy. She was laughing with a guy at his table, a hand resting on the other man's every once in a while.
She must be doing better, thought Wolverine. That guy's still conscious.
The guy that had told him about the cage fight when he and Rogue had arrived, walked into the cage. Making his way to Wolverine's side, he smiled greedily.
"There's only about ten minutes left for anyone to challenge you, man. I'd say—"
Suddenly there was a loud crash as the door to the bar was thrown open. Both men turned to see what all the noise was about, and the man next to Wolverine started to back away. Wolverine watched as a huge man strode forcefully into the bar. His hair was long, matted, and blonde and his eyes were almost totally feline. A wolf's skin was draped over his shoulders. All in all he looked like a feral mountain man with an attitude.
"Who's that?" Wolverine asked.
The man continued to back away. "That," he said nervously. "Is the guy we were waiting for."
"There's a runt in my cage." Sabretooth grinned, showing slightly sharper and elongated eyeteeth. He walked up until he was only inches away from Wolverine. "You here to fight?"
Wolverine smiled.
Rogue frowned as Wolverine began to face off against the newcomer. The man was huge and, unlike the other opponents Wolverine had been facing, looked as though he may actually have a chance. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see the man's eyes and unusual size and guess that maybe he wasn't entirely human. Unfortunately there wasn't anything she could do. She could just imagine Wolverine's reaction if she jumped into the cage to save him. Sighing, she turned back to her current companion. Johnny, she thought his name was.
Johnny noticed the object of her attention and heard her sigh as she looked away. "What's wrong? You don't like fights, sweetheart?" he asked condescendingly.
Rogue fought down the irritated response that came to her mind and just smiled sweetly. "Ah'm just so worried. What if one of them really gets hurt?" She put on her best Southern Belle front and scooted closer.
Johnny smiled. In the background Rogue heard snarling and the rattling of metal. Whoever had just hit the wall of the cage had to be hurting. She shook her head, and tried to shut it out of her mind.
Johnny reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail over her ear and down her neck. Rogue felt the pull start and tried to hold it back. For a second she swore her powers were going to stop. A roar came from the cage and Rogue whipped her head around. Wolverine's claws had unsheathed themselves and were sunk deep into Sabretooth's chest. As shouts started coming from the audience, Rogue felt her powers pick up again. Hurriedly, she pulled away, but it was too late. Johnny slipped into unconsciousness. As his body hit the floor, all eyes were on Rogue.
"She's a mutie too! Get her!"
Wolverine's head rose from the carnage he'd just inflicted as he heard the crowd roar out their fury. He turned in horror as he watched the crowd began to swarm towards Rogue. Sabretooth growled as Wolverine's claws retracted, and Wolverine stared at him in surprise as his wounds healed almost instantly. Dawning realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he only had a second to react.
Before Sabretooth could fully recover, Wolverine slashed upwards at his eyes. Screaming in pain, Sabretooth reared back and Wolverine slashed at him again, this time across the throat. Keeping close, he waited for Sabretooth to fall to his knees. Clamping his hands together, Wolverine brought his arms down on Sabretooth's neck, the adamantium in his bones practically reverberating with the blow. Sabretooth fell unconscious and bleeding.
The crowd in the bar had fallen silent during Wolverine's savage attack on Sabretooth. Rogue was on top of a table, a broken bottle in her hand. One man was screaming from where she'd managed to get him with the broken glass, and the other people were milling around like buzzards surrounding a dying animal. Wolverine growled and leapt out of the cage. Running around the side, he parted the crowd easily, everyone trying to get away from his bloody claws. Rogue took advantage of the situation and jumped down from the table. Running towards him, they turned and ran towards the door together.
They ran as fast as they could until they reached the truck. Quickly getting in, they both slammed their doors and Wolverine peeled out of the parking lot.
As they reached the main road, Wolverine slowed down a little. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Rogue began to laugh.
Wolverine glanced sideways at her.
"That was a rush!" Rogue laughed. The few beers she'd had were mixing with the adrenaline rush, and the combination was making her giddy.
Wolverine had to smile. His own adrenaline was still pumping. Looking down at his knuckles, still covered in Sabretooth's blood, Wolverine felt the animal in him howl in satisfaction. That had been kinda fun.
Wolverine's eyes opened slowly. Something was wrong. He sat up. Looking around his hotel room, his eyes landed on his digital clock. It was 4:00 a.m. Squinting, Wolverine's disoriented mind slugglishly tried to figure out what had woken him. Suddenly, his sensitive hearing picked up faint noise coming from Rogue's adjoining room. Getting out of bed, Wolverine went over to the door that separated them and listened. Moaning drifted through the door. Quickly, grabbing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved flannel.
Jerking the door open he stopped short at what he saw. Rogue's form was silouetted against the sheets by the moon pouring in through the window. Her face was twisted as though she was in pain as she writhed on the bed, obviously trapped in a nightmare. Walking over to the bed, Wolverine carefully sat down.
"Hey," he said softly.
Rogue's eyes stayed closed as she continued to fight in her nightmare.
"Rogue." Wolverine leaned down and gently shook her shoulders. "Rogue—"
Suddenly, Rogue sat bolt upright, her hands shooting out to push back her imaginary attacker. Wolverine froze as her bare hands clutched at his face. He had only a split second to dwell on how soft her skin felt on his, before he felt the pull of her powers. He fought against it briefly, but it was no use. For what seemed like the millionth time since he met her, Wolverine felt himself falling under her powers.
"Rogue," he gasped.
Rogue's eyes shot open. For a moment, Wolverine felt the pull stop, before Rogue pulled her hands away from his face. Too late to stop the effect, Rogue could only watch in horror as the blackness rushed up to reach him and he lost consciousness.
"Aw, shit." Rogue swore.
She closed her eyes as Wolverine's powers, memories, and strength flowed through her -- again. Sighing, she let herself float along his now almost familiar stream of consciousness. Reaching into his strength and summoning up his control, she gently pushed his memories down into her subconscious. Although he was familiar enough to her now that she didn't feel quite as overwhelmed or disoriented by his memories, she wanted to keep a lid on as much of him as she could so she didn't disrespect his privacy by nosing through his personal memories.
When Rogue felt in control again, she leaned over the edge of the bed. Wolverine had fallen to the floor when he lost consciousness and his body was crumpled up beside the bed. Rogue reached over to the other side of the bed to retrieve the gloves she'd taken off to sleep. Slipping them back on, she got off the bed, careful not to step on Wolverine. She slid her hands under his body to lift him onto the bed, and grunted when he didn't move.
For a moment she looked at his unconscious body in confusion. Then realization dawned on her.
"Goddamn adamantium skeleton, weighs a fuckin' ton," she grumbled.
Looking at her fallen companion in frustration, she finally just grabbed a pillow and blanket from the bed. She kneeled down carefully and rolled his body over so his head rested on the pillow. Covering him with the comforter, she stopped. She blushed as a wayward thought informed her that he preferred to sleep in the buff. Noticing that he was dressed, she realized that he must have heard her having a nightmare and gotten dressed before he came in. Kind of sweet really, she thought.
Shaking her head at the sappy turn her thoughts had taken, she finished covering him and stood up. She walked into the main room and picked up the phone.
"Hello, room service? Ah'd like to order a steak. Yeah. Rare."
She waited for the cook to come to grips with the fact that someone was indeed ordering a rare steak at a little after 4:00 a.m. As she waited, Rogue felt an urge. Before she could stop herself she added a couple of Canadian Gold's to her order. Then she hung up the phone and waited.
"Man, too bad those two muties got away."
It was four o' clock in the morning. The last of the bar's stragglers had finally left and two men were hauling the night's garbage out into the alley. The one that was complaining moved toward the first dumpster.
"Hey, man," the second guy stopped him urgently. "Not that one!"
"Why the Hell not? It's the closest," the first guy snapped defensively.
His companion gave him a look. Understanding dawned on the man's face. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I forgot we dumped that guy's body. Damn that was some mess."
"Yeah," the second guy agreed. "Gotta be the goriest fight we've ever had here. Still, at least that guy's finally out of the fights for good. It's about time someone else had a chance to win."
"Damn straight," the first guy agreed. "Who the Hell was he anyway? Always creeping out of the woods to show up on our biggest night of the week, just in time to take out the last guy. I've never even seen someone come close to beating him."
"You think he was a mutie too?"
The man thought about it as they dragged the garbage over to the other bins. "One way to find out for sure," he smirked, gesturing back at the first dumpster.
The other guy just shook his head and opened the lid to throw their bags into the empty dumpster. As they turned back around they both heard movement coming from inside the first bin.
"What the Hell is that?" one of them asked, startled.
"Probably just some animal that crawled out of the woods," mumbled the other.
There was a growling from within the dumpster and both men backed away.
"Maybe it's a cougar."
Suddenly the lid to the bin was thrown back. Before either man could make a sound, a hulking seven foot figure leapt from the dumpster and landed in front of them. Their mouths dropped open in terror as the snarling blood-crusted creature grabbed them by their shirtfronts and held them up at his eye level.
"Where is he?" Sabretooth ground out.
The first man began shaking in his grip as he struggled to make his vocal cords work past his fear. "W-w-we d-d-d-don't k-know."
Sabretooth growled, the dried blood on his face cracking as he glared at his victim. Putting the other man on the ground, he raised his free hand and brought his talons slashing down into the man's body. The other man still in his grip nearly fainted as his friend screamed in agony. He turned away as the man died on the dirty alley floor.
Sabretooth turned back to him, a wild glint in his eye. "The mutant."
"H-h-h-h-he w-w-w-w-w-went th-that way! With a woman! Th-th-they went towards Uton!"
Sabretooth turned in the direction he was pointing. Preoccupied, he dropped the man, and turned to go.
The man stood for moment, looking down at the body of his slaughtered friend. He was in shock, unable to move. As his body tried to warn him to get out of there, he heard a sound behind him. Then he felt a searing pain across his back as talons torn through his flesh and bone.
Falling down beside his friend, the last thing the man saw before he died was his murderer, bounding off toward Uton.
Wolverine groaned. His nose twitched as the smell of steak wafted over to him. Opening one eye, he saw Rogue sitting beside him. There was a steak on a plate beside her with a little bucket of ice with a bottle of Canadian Gold in it. An open Canadian Gold was beside her hand.
Rogue smiled down at him. "Well, Ah touched you. Happy now?"
Wolverine raised his eyebrows and looked at the steak. Rogue followed his gaze. Chuckling, she picked up the steak and handed it to him as he sat up.
"It's a peace offering."
"For what? You do it on purpose?" he asked around his steak.
Rogue laughed. "No."
"Then don't be sorry." He looked over at the window. "How long was I out?"
"About four hours. Sorry the steak's a little cold."
Wolverine shrugged it off. "Steak is steak. Specially when I'm feelin' a little low on energy." Rogue looked down and Wolverine immediately regretted his offhand comment. He moved to change the subject. "So are you okay?"
Rogue nodded. "Yeah. Ah'm used to it. Usually, Ah'm pretty good at keepin' other folks' memories at bay, but after a couple of beers and all that excitement, Ah guess mah control slipped."
Wolverine stopped chewing and looked up at her. "What are you talking about?"
Rogue abruptly fell silent. She shook her head. "Nothing," she said, taking another sip of her beer.
"You said your control slipped," Wolverine insisted. "You weren't talking about touching me, that was just an accident." He frowned. "The nightmare. It was someone else's, wasn't it?"
Rogue remained silent. Wolverine felt his stomach drop.
No, no, no, no, no, he thought. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "It was mine wasn't it?"
Rogue nodded. Wolverine swore to himself and ran a hand through his hair. He knew what was going to happen next. It was time for the questions to start. This was a routine he'd been through countless times. What happened to you? Who did that? Are you all right? Can I help you? Save you? He had to take a deep breath. Part of him had always known that this comfy little arrangement he had with Rogue was too good to be true. Still, he was sorry to see it end.
It was only after he stopped listening to his own thoughts that he realized she still hadn't said anything. He looked up to see her peering suspiciously into her beer bottle.
"Rogue?" Wolverine asked tentatively.
"Ah think Ah dropped a piece of mah label in mah beer," Rogue mumbled. She frowned. "Ah hate it when Ah do that."
Wolverine waited, but his expectations remained unfulfilled. A tiny spark of hope flared up inside him. Maybe Rogue really was different. Stubbornly, he shook himself. The last thing he wanted to do was have the little hope he was still capable of feeling stomped to ashes. He had to know for sure.
"I suppose you want to know what happened?" he sighed.
Rogue shook her head emphatically. "No. As a matter of fact, Ah would prefer never to discuss it again." She looked up at him. "Ah don't know about you, but most folks value their privacy. Ah can't help it that Ah've got your memories in mah head, but that doesn't mean Ah have to look. Ah've got a hard enough time keeping mah own memories separate from the people Ah absorb, Ah don't wanna make it worse by focusing on the other ones." She lowered her eyes. "Not to mention it really didn't seem like a pleasant experience and Ah doubt it would make good dinner conversation."
Wolverine was dumbfounded. For several moments he just stared at her.
"It's okay, Wolverine. Ah've had worse," she said quietly.
Wolverine looked at her for a long moment. She met his eyes briefly and looked away before she finally managed to hold eye contact. The ghosts he saw flicker across her face spooked him with their familiarity. He let the subject drop and picked up his steak again.
"Never did put much stock in silverware," he joked feebly.
Rogue smiled a little. Then she sighed and stood up. "Ah'm gonna grab a shower."
Wolverine nodded and finished off his steak. "Me too," he said standing up. Suddenly, he remembered there was only one shower. Rogue quirked an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. "You go first, just yell when you're done."
Rogue nodded in amusement and grabbed her suitcase before going into the bathroom.
As the door closed behind her, Wolverine viscously leaned down and grabbed his beer. Ripping the cap off, he grumbled to himself.
"When did everything get so goddamn awkward?"
Sabretooth growled as he walked the streets of Uton. He had been tracking his prey for nearly five hours, and he was already sick of hotels and their sickening scents of mingled humans and their dirty laundry. The sniveling members of the human race seemed to sense his disgust with them, thought, and most of them were smart enough to get out of his way. Of course, it could also be the fact that he'd never bothered to wash the blood off of himself that was keeping them away. Most of it had flaked off during the course of his hunt, but there was still plenty enough left for people to notice. Sabretooth grinned. He was actually considering adding some fresh blood to the mix. Unfortunately, he hadn't had much time to really learn his prey's scents. His highly developed olfactory sense and memory allowed him to detect and track a scent over eight hours old, but after that it would only get harder.
As he stalked down the road to yet another hotel, people around him suddenly found a strange and compelling fascination in their shoes. No one looked him in the eye as the seven-foot goliath strode into the hotel.
Immediately upon his entrance, Sabretooth's enhanced senses sent warning signals to his brain. They were here. The hotel staff at the front desk shook as he sniffed the air before heading to the staircase. With a grace one would never expect a man of his size to possess, he scaled the stairs. Minutes later he came back down. When he approached the front desk, the man behind the counter shrank back.
"The man and woman from room 204 – where are they?"
The man stared at him in fear for a moment and Sabretooth growled, jarring him into action.
"Uh, th-they left, sir," he stuttered, checking the book.
Another growl from Sabretooth. "When?" he ground out.
"N-nine o' clock this morning, sir." The clerk closed his eyes to block out the rage that was emanating off Sabretooth in waves. For a second, he was terrified that this great giant in the animal furs and dried blood was going to drag him across the counter and take out his frustrations on him. "I-I think I heard them say something about going to Bamff."
Sabretooth's eyes narrowed. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "You mean Banff?"
The clerk's head bobbed up and down nervously.
Sabretooth nodded. "Where's your car?"
The clerk wordlessly reached into his pocket and threw his keys on the desk. As he felt his knees give out from under him, Sabretooth grabbed the keys and left the building.
Rogue sighed as she once again found herself watching the snowy scenery fly by her window as Wolverine drove down the highway. Canada really was beautiful. She was glad she'd accepted Wolverine's offer of a place to stay; she'd always wanted to travel up North.
As she felt herself being soothed by the sparkling white landscape, Rogue's mind drifted to thoughts of Wolverine. When she'd first met him, she never would have imagined that he would have such an effect on her life. She'd thought he was just another arrogant male who would muscle his way through a mission with all the subtlety of a battering ram and then exit just as smoothly.
However, she'd been pleasantly surprised to see that Wolverine, although definitely rough around the proverbial edges, actually had a keen intelligence that made him a valuable asset to a mission as well as a kindness that made him a caring friend.
Perhaps it was that softer side that had caused Rogue to go from shooting him with a plasma gun and tearing into his body without a second thought, to gently tucking his memories into her mind and taking the utmost care to respect and preserve his privacy. Which wasn't easy considering she'd absorbed him three times already.
Rogue sat up a little and reached down to put her seat back. She was still tired from being up so early and taking care of Wolverine after their little accident. Lying back, she closed her eyes and stretched her legs out, propping her feet up on the dashboard.
Wolverine stared at the road ahead. The scenery around him passed by in a blur and he paid it almost no attention. In his line of work he traveled so much he knew the way to his home from practically anywhere by heart.
He frowned as he thought ahead. He hated the idea of just dropping Rogue off at his apartment and leaving her. She'd never been there, and he hesitated to leave her alone in strange surroundings. She was going out on a limb by trusting him enough to start rebuilding her life around his. Still, this really wasn't a good job to bring her along on.
Beside him he could hear Rogue shift around and put the seat back to lie down. As she stretched her legs out, Wolverine looked at her out of his peripheral vision. He let his eyes follow her denim clad legs up to where they disappeared under her brown bomber jacket. He knew from this morning that she had on a snug red sweater that hugged her body.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. She had come a long way from being Mystique's soldier in training. When he'd first met her, she'd never worn anything but a simple bodysuit unless a mission called for it. Bodysuits were plain and functional, two words that had summed up Rogue's life. Now she was going to bars, practicing her control, and dressing in a way that showed off how attractive, and young, she really was.
And she was attractive he had to admit. As Wolverine turned back to the road, that last thought echoed in his mind. He'd known plenty of women who were beautiful and good in battle. But none of them had ever brought him steak and beer at eight o' clock in the morning.
It was already dark again by the time they arrived at Wolverine's. Rogue pulled into the driveway of the cabin. It was on a hill, the garage at the lower end and a stairway up the front of the house to the front door.
Rogue admired the rustic quality of the dwelling as she leaned over and tapped Wolverine carefully. It was a good thing she'd convinced him to let her drive the rest of the way because he looked positively exhausted.
"Hey, Logan. Wake up."
Wolverine stirred and opened his eyes. When he saw where they were he stretched his muscles and opened the door.
"Nice job finding the place," he commented, reaching out to grab his stuff from the back.
Rogue smiled at the compliment. "Thanks. You give good directions."
She opened her door and stepped out, trying to rub some of the numbness out of her butt before she turned to retrieve her bag. Wolverine raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Sometimes he forgot just how handy a healing factor could be. Shaking his head, he led the way into the garage and up the stairs.
"There's another door in the back facing the woods, FYI," he commented as he walked up the stairs. "You'll wanna keep that locked while I'm gone."
Rogue giggled as he opened the door and they walked inside. "Aw, you're worried about mah safety. It's been awhile since someone's been afraid someone might attack me instead of the other way around."
Wolverine grunted. "You're a long way from Kansas now, Dorothy."
He walked over to the table. A plain white envelope was sitting there. Wolverine opened it up. Reading it quickly, he sighed and turned to face Rogue. She'd stopped inside the door and was looking at him expectantly.
"You can put your stuff in there," he said, gesturing to a room.
Rogue nodded and went to put her things away.
Wolverine stood there for a minute, thinking. The note was clear; this had to be done ASAP. He was expected to be in Calgary by 2100 hours tomorrow. It was already 1:00 a.m. He had to get his ass in bed if he was going to be at his best tomorrow. As he turned, he noticed something out the window. Walking over to the front door, he opened it and saw several boxes sitting there. Upon closer inspection he realized they were addressed to Rogue.
"Rogue?" he called out.
"Yeah?" Rogue poked her head out of her room. Looking past Wolverine, she saw the boxes. "Oh, Ah forgot!" She walked over and started dragging the boxes inside. Wolverine gave her a hand.
"What are these?" he asked, bewildered.
"Some of mah things. Ah didn't know you had a pickup, so Ah didn't pack them at first. After we got the truck, Ah called Mama and had her send some stuff."
"How did you know where to have them sent?"
Rogue smiled secretively. "Ah'm our kind of people too."
Wolverine raised his eyebrows, but he had to laugh.
"I gotta say, I'm surprised you have more stuff. I didn't think you had that many personal—" He trailed off as Rogue removed a plasma gun from one of the boxes. "Weapons," he finished. He shook his head. "She sent your arsenal. I hope that plasma gun's not here on my account."
Rogue pretended to think about it. "Nah. Ah like you much better now."
Wolverine chuckled. "Good to hear it."
Rogue smiled and continued unloading her guns. "So when are you takin' off?"
"Tomorrow around 1900 hours. I need to be there by 2100." He rubbed his face with his hands. "Damn. I know I just slept for a few hours while you were driving, but I'm still beat. I look back on the past five days and all I see is driving."
Rogue looked at him in amusement. "Really? Gee, Ah look back on the past five days and I see me leavin' mah mama, drivin' to Canada, watchin' you slaughter some guy draped in wolf fur, and absorbin' you for the third time."
Wolverine snorted. "Yeah, that too." He got serious for a minute. "You gonna be okay here alone?"
"Of course. Actually, Ah was gonna ask you if there are any bars around here."
"You gonna practice some more?"
"Yep." Rogue carried her weapons into her room.
Wolverine nodded. "Yeah, I'll draw out some directions. You want the truck or the bike?"
"Truck. If someone tries to grab for control of mah mind, it'll be safer to be in a truck. Better chances whoever gets control will know how to drive it, plus if Ah wreck, it won't cause as much damage."
"To you or my truck?" Wolverine asked wryly. "And what do you mean, if someone grabs for control?"
Rogue shrugged. "It hasn't happened since Ah was a kid, but it is possible if Ah absorb someone too strong, they could take control of mah body by overriding mah mind." She saw the look on Wolverine's face and smiled. "Logan, don't worry about me. It's just a what if, but Mama always taught me it's better to be paranoid than to be sorry."
Wolverine nodded, but as he got ready to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen while he was gone.
The next morning Rogue's alarm went off at 9:00 a.m. Sitting up, she yawned and stretched out. It was a good thing she'd had her mother send her an alarm clock. Wolverine had just given her a strange look last night when she'd mentioned that she needed one. She hadn't wanted to get into the whole "ever since I met you my usual disciplined routine has been shot to shit" talk.
Getting dressed into a comfortable pair of jeans and the same sweater she'd had on yesterday, Rogue made a mental note that she had to get some more clothes. She had a few bodysuits, but Wolverine didn't seem to like it when she slipped into her old habits.
Sighing, Rogue ran a brush through her hair. When she walked out into the living room, she noticed Wolverine wasn't up yet. Figuring he didn't have an alarm either, Rogue went to wake him up. As she walked into his room, Rogue made a mental list of all the things she needed to get from town.
"Hey, Wolverine." Wolverine didn't move, so she sat down on the bed. Leaning down, she spoke softly into his ear. "Wolverine it's nine—"
Suddenly there was a *snikt* and Rogue found herself staring down three adamantium claws. Wolverine's eyes didn't even open when he spoke.
"Rogue, what am I doing tonight?" he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.
Rogue's eyes widened. "Ah don't know."
"When am I doing it?"
"Late?" Rogue swallowed nervously.
"That's right. What time do you suppose I'll get to sleep tonight?"
"Umm, tomorrow morning around six-ish?"
"That's right. So, what do you suppose I should be doing now?"
"Sleeping?" Rogue squeaked.
"That's right."
The claws retracted, signaling their conversation was over. Rogue stared at Wolverine's still form for a few moments before she got up.
"Touchy," she muttered as she walked back into the main room. She sat on a chair at the dining room table for a minute to think. Wolverine was obviously feeling cranky, so he wouldn't be in the mood to help her get groceries.
"Well," Rogue said to herself finally. "Ah guess Ah'll just have to do it mahself." She walked around the cabin looking in the various drawers. Finding the phone book, she opened it up to the restaurant section.
Later that evening, Wolverine was getting ready to leave. Throwing a few things in a bag, he thought back on his day.
That morning he had been pissed when Rogue woke him up at the ungodly hour of 9:00 a.m. when he had to be up tonight until well into tomorrow morning. He'd been ready to let her have it when he woke up. Then she'd bought him breakfast. Steak again. Wolverine's stomach rumbled in remembrance. He was one of the few people on earth who believed there was no such thing as too much steak. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, it didn't matter. The fact that Rogue had brought him steak for breakfast two mornings in a row spoke very highly of her, and Wolverine found himself feeling a little sorry for snapping at her.
Still, he thought he'd made up for it. After breakfast, he'd taken her out shopping for groceries and to buy new clothes. He hadn't paid for anything; she insisted that her career under Mystique had been quite profitable, and she had plenty of money to buy her own clothes. In any case, though, he had gone with her shopping, helping her pick out clothes and everything. This was not something Wolverine did everyday. Plenty of women would have killed for the chance to force him into a shopping trip. Wolverine nodded to himself. His debt was definitely paid in full.
As he walked out to the door, he stopped to say goodbye to Rogue. When she smiled at him from the couch, Wolverine got the funny urge to give her a kiss goodbye. Shaking it off, he went out to his bike. Life was getting weird. If he didn't kill something tonight he was worried he just may start losing sleep.
An hour and a half later, Wolverine was all business as he pulled into a dark parking lot. Pulling his bike up beside a plain black van, he got off his motorcycle and walked over to the passenger side door. As soon as he closed his door behind him, the van started and turned out of the parking lot onto the road.
The driver was a foreign man, with olive toned skin and black hair cropped close to his head. As the van drove onto a main road, he began to speak.
"We traced a call about 33 minutes ago. It came from an apartment complex about ten minutes from here."
"Ten minutes? Must be a fuckin' amateur, they didn't even get out of the ritzy part of town," Wolverine snorted.
The driver kept his eyes on the road. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't even have been called. From the beginning it's been obvious that whoever took the girl doesn't have the slightest idea what he's doing. Anyone could have retrieved her. Hell, the police probably could have handled this one."
"So what am I doing here?"
The man looked irritated. "Her father is a very rich man. He feels that in order for a rescue mission to be successful, it must be ungodly expensive."
Wolverine groaned and leaned his head back on the seat. "Tell me I'm not here to rescue Muffy from the clutches of the Big Bad high school drop-out."
The driver almost smiled. "Sorry. If it helps her name is Jeanette LaCroix. You'll go in and try to get her out quickly and quietly. I'll be down here, ready to call for backup if you need it." The tone in his voice suggested that this was unlikely to happen. "Let's just hope the moron hasn't scared her. I don't want to see her psychiatrist's bill if she actually broke a nail."
Jeanette LaCroix laughed as she raised her champagne glass. Across from her, her boyfriend Craig smiled.
"Well, babe, soon your dad's money will be ours. All those millions to start a new life in sunny Acapulco."
Jeanette tossed her blond shoulder-length hair over her shoulder. "Right. And there's nothing daddy dearest can do to stop us." She took a sip of her champagne and giggled. "Poor daddy, he's probably going crazy trying to rescue me. I wonder who he'll call this time?"
Craig frowned. "Hopefully, he'll be smart, and leave the police out of it."
Just then, the door to the apartment burst open. Jeanette screamed as Wolverine ran into the room. His claws were drawn and he quickly took in the scene. When his eyes fell on the champagne glasses and their glittering liquid, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
Jeanette recovered quickly. "Help!" she cried, running to Wolverine's side. Craig looked at her in bewilderment as she burst into tears. "Oh thank God you're here! He was going to kill me!"
Wolverine looked at her, dumbfounded. Then he looked at Craig, who quickly dropped his glass and raised his hands.
"Hey, man, I didn't—"
"Shut up," Wolverine snapped. He retracted his claws and turned his focus back to the girl. "You too." Jeanette almost glared at him, but then remembered that she was traumatized and simply nodded meekly. Wolverine thought he was going to be sick.
"Look, I don't want to know what you two were planning. Frankly, I don't care. My job is to get you," he gestured at Jeanette, "back to your father."
Craig nodded empathetically. "I have no problem with that."
Jeanette turned a damsel-in-distress look on Wolverine. "Of course. I'm ready."
Wolverine shook his head and gestured for her to precede him out of the apartment. Wolverine rolled his eyes. He hoped Rogue was having a better night than he was.
Rogue sang along with the radio as she drove home from the bar. She felt great. Granted, she had a few more psyches pushed down into her subconscious, but that didn't matter now. She grinned as the music blared out the truck's speakers and the wind from her open window whipped her hair around her face. She had done it. Sitting at the bar, talking to a man named Ken, she had laid her hand on his and stopped her powers. The connection had opened and she had slowed it down and finally stopped it. She still hadn't been able to touch someone without opening the transfer at all, but it was a start. No. It was a beginning.
She pulled into Wolverine's driveway with enthusiasm, relocating a little gravel as she did so. Getting out of the truck, she locked the doors and practically skipped on her way up the stairs. She entered the house through the door in the garage. Throwing her keys on the table, she went into her room to change for bed.
As she pulled out the new nightshirt she had bought, she chuckled. Wolverine had looked like he wanted to die when she insisted that he give her his opinion. The shirt was long and pink, with a fuzzy little penguin in the middle. It was adorable and Wolverine couldn't stand it. Still, Rogue had to give him credit; he had muttered something that had sounded suspiciously like an affirmative. That couldn't have been easy considering he hadn't even wanted to go shopping in the first place. Rogue's eyes shined with humor. He'd offered though. It must have been the steak.
Rogue stripped off her clothes and slid the shirt on over her head. As she walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth, Rogue found herself wishing Wolverine was there. She wanted him to be the first to hear about her success. Of course, it wasn't like she had anyone else around to tell. She sighed as she rinsed her mouth out. Then she had an idea. Instead of walking into her room, she went over to the door of Wolverine's room. After hesitating for a minute, she opened the door and walked in. Smiling at how silly she was being, Rogue climbed into Wolverine's bed. The sheets still held his scent and she felt comfortable, nestled down in the blankets.
As she lay there, Rogue found herself thinking back on her night. She was still keyed up from her small, but meaningful success. As she congratulated herself once again, Rogue finally gave up and got out of bed. Walking back out into the living room, she grabbed a beer from the fridge and the remote from the table. She was too excited to sleep.
Sabretooth's wild amber eyes combed his surroundings for a sign of the residence he knew had to be there. He had driven into Banff this morning and spent the rest of the day trying to track his elusive prey. No hotels in the city had him or that woman with him as guests, so Sabretooth had adjourned to a bar. A feral grin spread across his face. The woman had been there. After that, it was a simple matter of following her back to the cabin. She'd gotten ahead of him in her truck, but it wasn't far. With his strength and endurance, he'd followed her easily. Plus, her scent and perfume made her an easy prey.
Up ahead, Sabretooth's enhanced eyesight spotted a cabin. The truck the woman had been driving was sitting in the driveway. Bounding over to the cabin, Sabretooth sniffed around. The man's scent was everywhere, the woman's scent mingling in with it along the stairway. Sabretooth followed his nose up the stairs. Careful, not to make any noise, he listened at the door. The television was on. They must be up.
Rearing back, Sabretooth hit the door hard, talons clawing down to tear off the door handle, lock and all. The wood collapsed and with a snarl, he leapt into the room.
Rogue started in surprise as the door to the cabin suddenly splintered and collapsed. Instinctually, she reached down the side of the couch, feeling the plasma gun resting against the side. Her grip tightened as Sabretooth loomed up in the doorway.
"Who the Hell are you?" she demanded coolly. Her fingers caressed the trigger of her gun reassuringly.
Sabretooth smiled, showing his exaggerated canines. "Name's Victor Creed. You can call me Sabretooth." His eyes narrowed. "Where's your boyfriend?"
Rogue glared up at him. "Ah'll tell him you stopped by. Now leave."
Sabretooth raised an eyebrow. "I don't now if it's just you or if it's that cute little penguin on your pink nightie, but somehow I just don't feel threatened."
Rogue's eye twitched. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was people being condescending to her. Rogue looked him directly in the eye, as her arm swung the plasma gun over the side of the couch to fire directly at Sabretooth's chest.
She had the advantage of surprise. The hulking giant wasn't expecting her to be armed and didn't move out of the way in time. The plasma burst hit him hard, licking at his flesh and propelling him backwards to slam into the wall.
Rogue kept her gun trained on him as Sabretooth slumped to the floor. His body folded over, blocking her view of the severe burns on his chest. She followed her training and waited for several minutes, assuring herself that he was well and truly down before daring to approach him.
The seconds ticked by with almost agonizing slowness as Rogue kept her eyes on the threat. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, she slowly unfolded her legs and eased herself up off the couch, approaching the body. As she stood there looking at him, it hit Rogue that the man lying crumpled at her feet was familiar. In a flash, images of Wolverine fighting with a man in wolf furs came crashing into her mind. Rogue stared down at the body in dismay. How could he have survived? Alarms went off in Rogue's head, but they were too late.
Sabretooth roared as his body gathered itself together and he pounced on Rogue. As the weight of his bulk carried them both to the floor, one taloned hand went for her throat and the other raked the plasma gun from her grip. Jagged bloody lines followed their trail and she grit her teeth in pain.
Rogue stared up at Sabretooth in shock, her eyes widening as his fist closed slightly, restricting her breathing. Sabretooth's eyes were alight with excitement as he felt her pulse struggling against his hand.
"Sassy little spitfire, aren't you?" he rasped.
Rogue felt her heart pounding furiously in her chest as her mind raced to come up with a plan of action. Sabretooth's hands were gloved, the razor sharp talons piercing through the tips. His left hand held her throat, the elbow leaning on her right arm, while his right held her left arm to the ground.
Sabretooth lowered his head slightly, taking in the scent of her body.
"You smell like the runt," he murmured.
The feel of his hot breath against the thin fabric of her nightshirt, sent chills down Rogue's arms. Sabretooth's head moved down her body, his right arm moving from holding her down, to trailing along her side. Rogue flexed the arm, to keep her circulation going, and flinched when the hand at her throat tightened, talons pricking her skin. Sabretooth continued his olfactory assessment of her body, and Rogue fought not to hit him when he nuzzled at the space between her legs.
He lifted his head and leered at her. "The runt hasn't taken you, yet." An evil light shone in his eyes. "Looks like I beat him to it."
Rogue felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as Sabretooth leaned back. Raising a taloned hand, he brought it down across the front of her nightshirt. Rogue bit back a cry as his talons left tiny red lines in her skin. With the nightshirt and her underwear in shreds, Sabretooth now had an unobstructed view over her body.
As his eyes ran over her bare skin, Rogue could see him getting excited by the sight of her blood. The bulge in his pants warned her what was coming and a panic seized her. As Sabretooth lowered his head to draw his tongue over the bloody threads on her stomach, Rogue brought the heel of her left hand up into his forehead.
Sabretooth's head snapped back, but the weight on her body didn't lessen. She closed her eyes and held her breath, expecting him to tear her throat out, but nothing happened. Instead, Rogue heard the sound of fabric ripping. Opening her eyes, she stared in horror. Sabretooth had drawn his talons over the crotch of his jeans, freeing his cock. There was a crazed look in his eyes as his breathing became heavier.
"Oh yeah, girl, fight back," he whispered.
He lifted his upper body just long enough to free her other arm, the increased pressure on Rogue's throat temporarily cutting off her air. Then he released her neck and violently grabbed both of her arms, jerking them up over her head. The position pushed Rogue's naked breasts up so they stood out against the rest of her straining body. Tears stung her eyes in humiliation as Sabretooth growled appreciatively. His knees moved slightly to push her legs apart. Feebly, Rogue tried to kick out, but he was too big. Sabretooth snarled at her and positioned his cock at her opening.
"No," Rogue choked out. "No, you don't understand. Stop—"
Her words cut off in a sharp intake of breath as Sabretooth ignored her pleas. Plunging into her, hard and fast, Rogue screamed as she felt her flesh tear and the transfer open. The sound of her screams and the sight of blood dripping down her inner thighs seemed to excite Sabretooth further. As he pounded into her again and again, his feline eyes dilated until they were nearly all black and he lost himself in an animalistic rush.
As waves of pain rolled over Rogue, a furious rage began to burn within her. Her hips bucked involuntarily as Sabretooth's thrusts claimed her virginity. Rogue gritted her teeth against Sabretooth's onslaught. He was so wrapped up in his violation of her body; he hadn't felt the transfer open.
Now, Rogue's rage began to spiral upwards through her mind. She felt Sabretooth lower his head, his mouth locking onto one of her breasts. As his canines pierced the delicate skin, Rogue could feel warm blood trickle down her breast. Without warning Rogue's rage peeked.
In a burst of energy, Rogue felt her powers flare up stronger than she'd ever felt in her life. All of her anger, all of her humiliation, pushed outward, causing her mutant abilities to increase. Sabretooth's body spasmed, his deep intrusions into her body slowing before they finally stopped. With his cock still buried deep inside Rogue, his eyes glazed over and he collapsed on top of her.
As Sabretooth's attack on her body stopped, his attack on her mind began. Like a raging wind, his memories, powers, and strength surged into Rogue. Her skin felt electrified as the wounds inflicted by Sabretooth closed under his own healing power. With a burst of strength, Rogue tore her hands out of his weakened grasp and shoved his hulking mass off of her.
She stumbled to her feet, only to collapse as a rush of memories flooded her mind. Images of an angry father who beat her senseless. People trapping her in a cage to point and laugh as she raged helplessly against the bars. Pain and blood, both hers and that of others poured through her mind. Rogue grasped at her head as pain shot through her mouth and eyes. She felt her canines reforming and her eyes morphing into the feline versions of Sabretooth.
As everything that was Sabretooth rushed to violate her mind as he had just violated her body, a jagged scream tore from Rogue's throat. It merged into a howl as Sabretooth's animal nature claimed her and, snarling, Rogue ran out the door into the snow.
Wolverine knew something was wrong as soon as he got home. He could smell someone else here. Someone familiar. Wolverine's eyes widened when he recognized the scent. Sabretooth.
Like wildfire, Wolverine ran up the stairs to his front door. The door was destroyed and the scents coming from within the cabin made Wolverine's blood boil. As he crashed through the wreckage of his door, he noticed the body of Sabretooth lying on the floor. He wasn't moving and Wolverine could barely here a pulse. Restraining his anger, he reached down a flipped Sabretooth over, rearing back when he realized what had happened.
Sabretooth's shirt had a gaping hole in it with burns around the edges. As if someone had shot him with the plasma gun that laid a few feet away. His pants had been ripped at the crotch, and it took every ounce of control Wolverine had not to dismember Sabretooth right there when he caught the scent that covered the other mutant.
"Rogue," he whispered.
Wolverine could see blood on the floor and he knew it was Rogue's. He also knew where it came from. Wolverine felt his claws un-sheath and re-sheath themselves a few times. The pain they caused helped him to focus without mutilating the comatose body of the mutant responsible for what he was seeing.
Picking up Rogue's scent, Wolverine took off out of the house. The snow flew up in his footsteps as he ran into the forest behind his cabin. Claw marks were raked into various trees, and some of the snow still bore traces of blood. A few tatters of a pink shirt hung on the branches of a small barren bush, and the image of a nightshirt with a fuzzy penguin flashed through Wolverine's mind. Tears of rage and grief burned behind his eyelids and, briefly, Wolverine let his animal take over. Bounding through the snow, he raced towards Rogue, following her scent.
It wasn't long before he spotted her in the distance. She was huddled up in the snow, the last of her clothing long gone. Her eyes were closed, and her body trembled when Wolverine approached. He watched her, lying in the snow, and knew that she still had Sabretooth's healing factor. Her skin wasn't showing signs of frostbite.
As he reached a hand out to her, her eyes shot open. Feline pupils widened at his presence and she snarled as a taloned hand reached out to swipe at him. Wolverine stared in shock, as Rogue's eyes remained wild and unseeing. She didn't recognize him.
Slowly, Wolverine kneeled down in the snow. Rogue watched him like a hawk, twitching in preparation of escape.
"Rogue," Wolverine said softly. "Hey, it's me. Come on, let me get you someplace warm."
Rogue didn't move, but Wolverine could see her mind struggling to remember him. Talking softly and soothingly, he experimentally eased a hand out towards her. Her eyes followed the movement, but she didn't move away. Wolverine kept talking to her and moved closer. Part of him wanted desperately to touch her skin, to let her absorb him in the hopes that it would help. But from the looks of her, she had enough in her mind to worry about, and he couldn't take the risk of making it worse.
As he moved to lift her in his arms, Rogue suddenly collapsed against him. Nuzzling his chest like a cat, she cuddled closer to him for warmth, tucking her body around itself. Wolverine's heart wrenched as he tried to keep her bare skin from brushing his. Slowly and carefully, he made his way back to the cabin.
As they got closer to his cabin, Wolverine could feel Rogue's body tense up. Sabretooth's scent still permeated the area and Wolverine wished he had another place to take her. Still, he had to get her cleaned up and clothed. She had to come back to her own mind.
He kept murmuring words of comfort as they entered the cabin. For a minute, Wolverine was sure she was going to squirm out of his grasp and take off, but suddenly she calmed. Wolverine spared a glance over at the spot where Sabretooth should have been. With a slight shock, he realized that the body was gone. At that moment, Wolverine became aware of other scents. Someone had been in his cabin while he was out finding Rogue. There were a few of them, four or five. Rogue had noticed the scents also and her feline eyes darted around the room, looking for the source. Wolverine shook off his concern and walked into the bathroom with her.
He set her down carefully in the bathtub. Still speaking in a calm soothing voice, he slowly turned the water on. When the tub had filled with warm water, he soaped up a washcloth and took a deep breath. Keeping an eye on her reactions, he gently began to wash the dried blood off her breast and stomach. There were no markings on the skin at all under the dried blood.
As he finished with her upper body, Wolverine stopped. There was still blood and other fluids caked on the inside of Rogue's thighs, leading up. He hesitated. Then he realized Rogue was watching him with the indifferent curiosity of an animal trying to figure out what was going on. She growled a little, as the washing didn't continue. Wolverine flushed slightly and took a deep steadying breath. Very carefully, he moved the washcloth down to scrub the blood from her thighs. As the dark red stains disappeared under his ministrations, he moved the washcloth higher.
He turned to make sure she was still all right, and found her face a mere inches from his own. Wolverine tried not to fall backwards as she leaned closer to take in his scent. He tried to ignore the chills going down his back as she sniffed along his neck. Gently, he drew the washcloth along the apex at her thighs.
Next to his ear he heard a gasp, and pulled back to look into her eyes. For a split second, Rogue came back to herself, briefly looking at him through soft brown eyes before disappearing again behind amber irises. This time Wolverine blushed for real.
"All right, darlin', let's get some clothes on you," he murmured.
He helped her out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around her. She still stayed crouched down, not standing on her own two feet. When she was fairly dry, Wolverine carried her into his bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he turned and went over to his dresser. Removing his now sopping wet gloves and shirt, he slipped on a dry pair of gloves and flannel. Taking an extra flannel with a pair of soft sweatpants, he walked back over to the bed. Rogue watched him suspiciously as he sat down. When he tried to help her into the clothes, she struggled against him, refusing to let him put the shirt or the pants on her.
"Rogue, darlin," he started.
Suddenly, she dodged out of the way, moving within the circle of his arms and bringing her bare back flush against his chest. Wolverine could feel the heat from her body through the flannel, and he cursed himself when his body started to respond. He tried to move quickly without alarming her, and pushed her to lie down on the bed. Wrapping the comforter around her, he brushed the flannel and the sweatpants to the floor.
"If you don't wanna wear them, you don't have to," he said softly.
He stretched out beside her on the bed and put one arm around her covered form. Curling his body against hers to keep her warm, he talked softly to her until her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep. Wolverine sighed when he felt her regular breathing.
"I'm sorry, Rogue," he whispered sadly. "I shouldn't have left you."
Rogue was silent in sleep and Wolverine found no peace in staring at her slim figure, huddled under the thick comforter. He sighed into her hair. Then he eased himself away from her and off the bed.
Going into the main room, he walked through the doorway to the stairs leading down to the garage. The icy winds swirled into the cabin without the protection of a door. Wolverine gathered some slabs of wood and a hammer and nails. Then he walked back up the stairs. Putting the supplies down on the floor, he picked up the pieces of the door and pieced them back together as best he could, using the slabs of wood to patch up the holes. As the hammer pounded into the nails, Wolverine's thoughts turned back to the strangers who had been in his cabin.
Their scents had faded away in the currents of wind that drifted through the cabin from the open doorway. Wolverine didn't know who they were and a part of him felt like he should have tried to track them while he could. He shook his head. Intruders or no intruders, he couldn't leave Rogue alone. Not like this. It didn't matter anyway; all they seemed to have taken was Sabretooth's comatose body.
Wolverine felt his blood heat up as thoughts of what the deranged cage fighter had done to Rogue sprang to his mind. That bastard had raped her. And if it wasn't bad enough he'd torn up her body, he'd reduced her mind to hiding within itself. She was acting entirely on instinct now, her higher consciousness hiding in the recesses of her own psyche.
Wolverine's eyes grew sad. If there was anyone who understood what was happening to Rogue, it was he. There had been several times when Wolverine had lost his humanity to the raging of the beast he always carried inside himself. Now that Rogue had a similar beast inside herself, he knew she would have to fight hard to make it back from the place she had run and hid in her mind.
He sighed and stood up. Retrieving Rogue's plasma gun from where it lay against the wall, he took it into Rogue's room and put it with her other weapons. He almost pitied Sabretooth when Rogue was well enough to pick it up again.
The next morning, loud knocking at his door awakened Wolverine.
"Whoever that is better make damn sure they don't break that fuckin' door down." Wolverine mumbled. Suddenly, his eyes shot open. Images of Sabretooth out there pounding on the door danced across his mind and he shot up in bed.
Startled, he realized Rogue wasn't in the bed. For a second he panicked, but then he saw her huddled on the floor in the corner, trembling in her sleep. For a moment he was torn between answering the door and going over to where Rogue was curled up. Making a quick decision, Wolverine got up to see who was at the door. On the way there he tried to rationalize that, if it were Sabretooth, he certainly wouldn't be waiting for Wolverine to answer the door.
By the time, Wolverine reached the door, he was just curious. When the person outside began banging in earnest, Wolverine yanked the door open.
"What?!" he snapped.
Cyclops' face was deadpan as he crossed his arms in front of him. "I believe you have something that belongs to me?"
Wolverine blinked in confusion.
Storm smiled. "There's a tracking device on the—" she started to explain.
"I don't care!" Wolverine interrupted incredulously. He glared at them. "I don't have time for this bullshit. Take your damn bike and get out of here."
Cyclops opened his mouth to respond in kind, but Storm put her hand on his arm. Cyclops shut his mouth, but still looked peeved.
"Wolverine, we did not realize we were intruding. If you don't mind my asking, what is wrong?"
For a second, warring emotions played across is face.
Storm watched him closely. "Wolverine, has something happened to Rogue?"
Wolverine's facade crumbled. He stepped back and gestured towards his bedroom. Storm furrowed her eyebrows and walked back into the room he indicated.
As she walked through the door, the first thing Storm saw was a large bed with no one in it. Turning her head, she saw Rogue curled up in the corner, watching Storm warily. Surprised, Storm noticed that Rogue had no clothes on. Also, there was an undeniably tense aura surrounding her. Disturbed, Storm carefully took the comforter from the bed and approached her. Kneeling down beside the other woman, Storm sat still, trying not to frighten her.
Rogue studied Storm carefully, not moving. Her nose twitched as she sniffed at the X-Woman. She smelled of wind and rain, as if nature had formed itself into a woman. Rogue reached a hand out towards Storm. Her hand hovered in front of her neck.
Storm was careful to keep her hand protected by the comforter she held, but showed no fear when she took Rogue's hand in hers. Gently, she reached out to wrap the comforter around her body. Rogue looked as though she wanted to throw the cover off, but she kept it on as she allowed Storm to draw her away from the corner.
Storm's eyes were sad as she took in the puddle that had spread where Rogue had been sitting. Holding Rogue to her, she summoned a tiny raincloud to rinse the floor, and a warm wind to dry it as best she could. Storm said a brief prayer of thanks to the Goddess that it had been she and not Wolverine to come in here after Rogue. The woman had obviously been through enough, without any further humiliation.
Storm called out to Cyclops as she led Rogue through the doorway and out to where Wolverine and Cyclops waited for them.
"Cyclops, call the Professor. Rogue is coming back with us on the Blackbird."
"Oh no, she's not," Wolverine interrupted. "She's staying here."
"Wolverine, of course we fully intended for you to come also," Storm assured him.
Wolverine shook his head. "You're not using Rogue as an excuse to lure me back to join your little team."
"Oh, for crying out loud," Cyclops said in exasperation. "Everything doesn't have to be about you!"
"I'm not gonna let some stranger go poking around insider her head," Wolverine insisted through clenched teeth.
Throughout their exchange, Storm had been watching Rogue. The younger woman was now looking at a spot on the floor. She sniffed the air and her features grew strained.
"Wolverine," Storm spoke up, playing a hunch. "After what happened to her here, don't you think a change of scenery would be best for her? Look at her, Wolverine."
Wolverine turned to face Rogue. She was looking around the cabin as though she couldn't find something that she knew was there. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air. Wolverine's heart sank. He knew that look. Rogue could still smell the blood. He hadn't had a chance to scrub the floor yet and even though she couldn't see the bloodstains from where she stood next to Storm, her newly acquired enhanced senses could smell the coppery traces.
Storm watched the rainbow of emotions pass over his face. "Let us take both of you to Westchester, Wolverine. We have a jet outside, waiting. We'll be there in no time and the Professor can try to help her."
Wolverine was silent for a long moment. Finally, the vulnerable look on Rogue's face got to him and he gave in.
"Fine. Let me grab some stuff and we'll go."
Cyclops and Storm nodded as Wolverine walked back into his room to get a large duffel bag. He packed a few shirts, jeans, and pairs of socks. Then he walked into Rogue's room with the bag.
Cyclops and Storm leaned over to watch him. They both raised their eyebrows as Wolverine proceeded to shove a plasma gun into the bag. Then he seemed to realize that Rogue would need clothes as well. He walked over to Rogue's dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out a few pairs of jeans and some shirts and put them in the bag. Then he opened another drawer and froze.
Her socks were all plain and sensible white cotton. Her underwear, however, was another story. Wolverine's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he saw the rainbow of colored thongs that filled the drawer. Lace, cotton, and silk all greeted his gaze and Wolverine almost laughed. Rogue wasn't as repressed as he'd thought she was.
Storm and Cyclops tried not to laugh as Wolverine stared into Rogue's sock and underwear drawer. Wolverine flushed. Irritated, he grabbed a handful of socks and underwear and stuffed them in the bag. After he zipped up the bag, he stalked back over to Storm and Cyclops.
"Carry this," he commanded, dropping the bag at Cyclops' feet.
Cyclops stared at him indignantly. "I most certainly will not."
Wolverine turned to Storm and Rogue. Rogue was sitting on the floor, still wrapped in the comforter. She seemed to be watching everything that was going on with a vague curiosity. Wolverine knew she wouldn't walk to the X-Men's jet. He leaned down and gathered her and the comforter into his arms. Rogue immediately snuggled up against his chest, his familiar scent a welcome sign of safety.
Cyclops watched them and his expression softened. He picked up Wolverine's bag and together they all left to board the waiting Blackbird.
Professor Charles Xavier was calm as he watched Wolverine sitting on the floor with Rogue. Cyclops had called ahead from the jet, saying that Rogue was in a bad way and they were bringing her to the mansion to get help. From the time she and Wolverine had entered his office, Xavier had been aware of Rogue's condition. It wasn't just the fact that she had bit Cyclops' hand when he had tried to seatbelt her in on the Blackbird. It was clear that she was reacting to stimulation on a strictly animal level of awareness. The way she had refused to allow herself to be clothed or sit in a chair made that clear. Professor Xavier had been completely accepting of Rogue's wishes, and now he watched with interest the way Wolverine stroked her hair and murmured soothing words to Rogue to keep her calm. It was clear that Wolverine was empathizing with Rogue. Xavier finally cleared his throat, drawing Wolverine and Rogue's attention to him.
"Wolverine," he began. "Tell me exactly what happened. When did Rogue begin acting like this?"
Wolverine hesitated. He hated sharing something this personal with a stranger. Still, in all likelihood, he would need Xavier's help if he wanted to get Rogue back to her normal self.
"When I left to take care of some business, she was fine. When I got back, my door was destroyed and Sabretooth's body was lying on my floor."
Professor Xavier frowned. "Sabretooth?"
Wolverine's eyes narrowed. "A mutant. I ran into him in a bar in Laughlin City a few days ago. We fought and I thought that was the last I'd see of him." He let the insinuation hang in the air. Xavier was an intelligent man, he didn't need Wolverine to spell out what he meant by `the last I'd see of him'.
"You say his body was on the floor. Was he dead or unconscious?"
Wolverine thought about it. "I didn't check. If he had a pulse, it was too faint for me to hear, and that usually means death. As soon as I saw him, I saw . . . signs . . . of something else. I decided my first priority was Rogue."
Xavier noticed Wolverine's hesitation. "He attacked her." It was a statement, not a question.
Wolverine nodded stiffly. "I found her in the snow. She let me clean her up, but she won't let anyone put clothes on her. This morning I found her curled up in the corner."
Xavier nodded. "From what you've told me, it seems that the . . . circumstances . . . surrounding Rogue's contact with Sabretooth caused her powers to surge. It was her body's way of protecting itself. Unfortunately, the trauma of the attack combined with Sabretooth's no doubt savage personality has caused Rogue to retreat into her own mind. In order to help her, it is necessary that I go into her mind and find her. Hopefully, I will be able to coax her out again."
The _expression on Wolverine's face made it apparent that he was not thrilled with the idea, but he didn't object. "How are we gonna do this?"
"I can enter her mind from here. She is obviously comfortable where she is, and the more comfortable she is, the easier this will be."
Wolverine nodded, and tightened his arm around Rogue. She tilted her head to smile up at him and he couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle the top of her head affectionately. A soft purr came from her throat and she closed her eyes as she snuggled up to his chest.
Professor Xavier watched them with a smile on his face. From what he'd learned of Wolverine, this display of affection was rare and it brought a warm feeling to Xavier to see how much the rough Canadian cared for the orphaned Southern Belle.
"Rogue?" he said gently.
Wolverine nudged her gently and Rogue opened her eyes. He nodded towards the Professor and Rogue looked over at him curiously.
"Rogue, I want you to take a deep breath and let yourself relax." When the _expression on Rogue's face didn't change, the Professor touched her mind with his. When he spoke again, he let his thoughts guide her instincts. "I want you to keep taking deep breaths and listen to the sound of my voice."
The Professor continued to talk in a calm soothing voice. Suddenly, Wolverine interrupted.
"Umm, Wheels? I think she's asleep."
The Professor looked surprised. Sure enough, a soft snoring sound was coming from Rogue as she leaned against Wolverine's chest. Wolverine's rumble of laughter shook her awake and she sleepily looked back at the Professor.
The Professor smiled in resignation. "I suppose she is sufficiently relaxed now."
Amidst Wolverine's chuckles, Professor Xavier closed his eyes and extended his mind towards Rogue. Gently, he pushed aside the almost nonexistent resistance, and found himself inside her mind. Looking around, his initial suspicions were confirmed. Without Rogue in control to file Sabretooth's psyche away, her mind's landscape had become a twisted combination of Sabretooth's Canadian homeland and Rogue's deep South. It was like a Salvador Dali painting, with patches of snow and icy cliffs in addition to rolling green hills and sunny blue skies.
As the Professor began to move towards the first patch of Mississippi land, he heard a growl. A large figure leapt at him from behind an icy outcropping of rock. Xavier remained unruffled as Sabretooth dove towards him. At the last moment the Professor raised a hand and Sabretooth stopped in midair. Snarling furiously, the bestial mutant glared at the Professor.
"What are you doing here?" he roared.
Xavier regarded him calmly. "Sabretooth, I presume?" Sabretooth struggled against the mental forces holding him frozen in the air, and the Professor sighed. "I do not have time to deal with you now, Sabretooth. Hopefully, Rogue herself will be able to deal with you shortly."
Sabretooth raged at him in vain as the Professor used his mind to manipulate the ground. The rock beneath Sabretooth melted and flowed upwards to envelope him in a solid grip. As the Canadian murderer struggled against his prison, Xavier continued on his way to find Rogue.
Passing through the snowy patches of Sabretooth's memories, he made his way farther into Rogue's mind. Around him, the scenery flowed and changed almost constantly. Houses formed and then melted back into the ground and clouds faded in and out of the sky. Even the snowy mountains and icy gray skies of Sabretooth's memories were in a constant state of motion. Xavier shook his head. Rogue's memories were being distorted by the intrusion of Sabretooth's psyche. If she didn't take control soon, she may never be able to separate the two fully again.
Then something caught the Professor's eye. Up ahead he saw a small white country house with blue shutters, surrounded by a white picket fence. The house stood out against the other parts of landscape in that it remained nearly solid. Unlike its wavering surrounding, the house stayed where it was, more or less stable. Xavier walked towards the house. Slowly, he entered the gate and walked up the brick pathway leading to the front door. As he reached for the doorknob, the wood and metal shifted slightly. The house wavered unsteadily, and the Professor was startled to hear cries coming from within its walls. Extending his mind slightly, he parted the mental fabric of the door and passed through it.
Inside the house he came upon a small room with a stone fireplace. A cozy fire was burning, and in front of the fireplace there was a comfy looking red armchair. A woman sat in the chair cradling a small child in her arms. The white streak through the child's hair left no doubt in the Professor's mind that it was a young version of Rogue he was looking at.
As the woman sang, the room wavered and again, the Professor heard a small cry. Unseen by the woman and her child, he walked forward and looked behind the chair.
Rogue was crouched down behind the chair, her knees held tightly against her chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut in concentration and Xavier knew she was struggling to maintain the fabric of the small house. Each time the house wavered, she would cry out slightly and increase her concentration. The effort was showing in the strain on her face.
"Rogue," the Professor said softly.
Her eyes shot open and she stared at the Professor. The house began to swirl in a mix of colors and Rogue watched in dismay as the image of the woman and her child began to flicker.
"Mama!" she cried.
She began to close her eyes again, but Professor Xavier reached forward and laid a hand on her arm. She jerked her arm away, but opened her eyes.
"What do you want?!" she asked, nearly hysterical.
"Rogue, we have met before, I'm Professor Charles Xavier. Wolverine brought you to me because he is concerned about you, and he has reason." He took a deep breath. "Rogue, you must leave this place. Come back with me."
Rogue shook her head vehemently. "Ah can't. Everything is fallin' apart."
"Rogue, your mind is struggling to maintain itself. Without you at the forefront of your consciousness, the memories of those you have absorbed are trying to escape the bonds you put on them." He tactfully avoided the mention of Sabretooth. "Rogue, if you want to protect your mind, your memories, you must trust me."
For a second, the Professor thought she was going to say no. Then the whole house flickered in and out and panic etched itself across Rogue's features.
"All right!" she screamed. Jumping up, she allowed the Professor to take her hand and lead her out of the house. As they passed through the gait, the house behind them faded away in a swirl of colors.
Rogue turned and watched it go with tears in her eyes. "Mama," she whispered.
Professor Xavier smiled kindly. "Rogue, when you take control again, all will be restored."
Only slightly comforted by his words, Rogue followed the Professor through her mind. As they approached the edge of her consciousness, Rogue began to fidget. Professor Xavier glanced at her in concern as she began to show signs of nervousness.
"Now remember, Rogue, just picture a portal. As long as you choose to, you can make a doorway that will take you out."
Rogue nodded, but her eyes darted from side to side and, around them, new scenery began to grow out of her subconscious. Suddenly, strong wooden walls sprang up around them. Rogue watched with growing anxiety as Wolverine's cabin in Banff materialized around her.
The Professor watched her carefully. He could sense her growing panic and realized what was happening. He opened his mouth to calm her, but it was too late. An angry snarl sounded from behind them. Rogue whipped around and before either of them could move, Sabretooth was on top of her. Screaming in complete terror, Rogue stared wide-eyed at her attacker. Her screams echoed in her mind and Xavier had to put his hands over his ears as the entire arena of Rogue's mind responded to her distress. Reaching out he hit Sabretooth with a stream of telepathic energy, knocking him off of Rogue.
Immediately, Rogue scrambled to her feet and fled back into the depths of her mind. Xavier called out to her, but it was no use. Sighing in defeat, he closed his eyes and willed himself back into his own body.
Wolverine perked up immediately as Professor Xavier opened his eyes.
"What happened?" he demanded. He looked down at Rogue. Her face was twisted as if she was in pain. "What did you do to her?"
Professor Xavier sighed and rubbed his temples. "Wolverine, calm yourself. Rogue is all right."
"Then why isn't she waking up?" Wolverine insisted, trying to keep the sound of panic out of his voice.
"She has retreated into her mind again. Sabretooth's presence is strong. The closer she gets to consciousness, the fresher the memory of her ordeal becomes." Professor Xavier sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid it will take time to bring her out."
Wolverine glared at him. "How much time? How much longer is she going to be like this?"
"I cannot say, Wolverine. Rogue's abilities are rather unique. I have never encountered this particular situation before. I do not want to cause any undue damage." He took a deep breath. "Rogue needs to rest. I think it would be best if we put her in the infirmary where we can monitor her vital signs and brain activity."
"Like Hell you are. She stays with me." Wolverine growled.
"Wolverine let me make myself very clear. My intentions are to help Rogue recover as quickly and with as little pain as possible. In order to do this, I will need you to trust me, at least temporarily. I cannot help her if I have to fight you every step of the way." Wolverine glared at him, but didn't interrupt. "Now, I do not want to take any unnecessary chances. We must monitor Rogue as closely and in as much detail as possible to make her transition back into full consciousness as smooth as possible. I do not know how her mental state may affect her physical health, and I do not want to take any risks. The best place for her right now is in the infirmary."
Wolverine was silent for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. "I want to do what's best for her."
Xavier smiled. "I know. Believe me, Wolverine, that much we have in common."
Jean smoothed her white labcoat down as she turned to face the bed Rogue was lying on. She smiled politely at Wolverine as she began placing electrodes across Rogue's body. Although she still felt a little hostility towards Rogue for the way the younger woman had tricked her during their run-in at the secret military base, she couldn't deny that she felt a slight attraction to Wolverine. She still remembered the wild abandon he had fought with back at the base and the faint threat of danger that he gave off almost gave her goose bumps.
She glanced up at him over Rogue's body. "So," she said casually. "Couldn't wait to get back to Westchester, huh?"
Wolverine rolled his eyes as she turned back to get something else off her little medical tray. Not long ago he would have considered rutting with the leggy redhead, but now all he felt was irritation. Rogue was lying on the hospital bed, still unconscious, and the good doctor was trying to pick him up. Wolverine kept his eye on Jean. He hadn't missed the slight look of dislike on her face when she'd looked at Rogue. He grinned; she was still miffed about losing at the military base.
Suddenly his smile disappeared as Jean reached for a hypodermic needle. Turning, she moved to inject it into Rogue's arm. Wolverine stared, frozen, as images danced across his memory. Images of needle after needle pricking his skin as he struggled against the manacles that held him to an operating table floated across his minds eye. As he watched, Rogue's eyes shot open and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
"No!" Wolverine yelled, tackling Jean. She reached out with her telekinesis to stop him, but his arm snaked around her neck, cutting of her air supply. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, Rogue's eyes and mouth closed and she lay on the hospital bed as motionless as before.
A chill crept up Wolverine's arms. Forgotten in his grip, Jean choked, gasping for air. Wolverine jerked, startled. His eyes were haunted as he dropped Jean to the floor and ran out the door of the infirmary.
He tried to sniff out Xavier to track him down, but the man's scent was everywhere and the mansion gave Wolverine a lot of ground to cover.
"Where are you, Xavier?" he muttered tensely.
*Over here.*
Wolverine whipped around, his claws shooting out of their inner sheaths. It sounded like Xavier's voice. He sniffed the air, but couldn't smell him.
"I don't like people in my head, Xavier," he growled.
*My office is on the next floor. Follow my thoughts.*
Wolverine listened for the Professor's thought projections, following them into an elevator. When the doors slid open on the next floor, Wolverine jumped out and continued to run down the hallway. Soon he came upon a set of heavy wooden doors, but before he could open them, he heard voices approaching. Wolverine looked around quickly and ran to the middle of the hallway, pressing his body behind a pillar. His mind was racing and he did not want to run into any strangers right now. He waited there until he heard a large group of kids came clamoring down a stairway. They filed down the hallway, filtering into various rooms.
When the last of them had disappeared, Wolverine took off again down the hallway. Picking up the Professor's scent he ran to a door down the hall.
Jerking open the door to Xavier's office, he froze.
Several teenagers were seated in chairs in front of Professor Xavier's desk. They all turned to face Wolverine with curious expressions on their faces. Wolverine stared stupidly.
"I'd like your definitions of weak and strong principles on my desk tomorrow," Xavier said smoothly, drawing the students' attention back to him. The students nodded and gathered their things. Wolverine watched them as they filed past him out the door. One girl stopped before the door closed behind the last of her classmates. She quickly went back to her chair and retrieved her purse. Saying good-bye to the Professor, she turned to leave. Wolverine quirked an eyebrow as she ran right through the closed door.
"You're not the only one with gifts."
Wolverine smirked. "Yeah, I know. I just didn't know such a powerful telepath spent his free time teaching Physics."
"Yes, I can see how the title of "Professor" could be misleading," Professor Xavier countered in amusement. In an effort to avert the irritated retort he was sure would follow, Xavier knitted his eyebrows in concern.
"What brings you here now, Wolverine? Is Rogue all right?"
Wolverine sobered up at the question. "I don't know. I was down in the infirmary with her and Red when the doc went to inject her with some sort of needle. All of a sudden I had a flashback."
"A flashback?" the Professor prodded.
Forcing himself to resist the urge to keep his life private, Wolverine's eyes got a faraway look in them. "In some of my nightmares I see men in military uniforms drinking champagne while I'm lying there one some sort of operating table. There's needles sticking into my body."
"That sounds like a very painful memory, Wolverine. What does it have to do with Rogue?"
Wolverine's attention snapped back to the present. He looked at he Professor with a haunted look in his eyes. "At the exact second I had the flashback, Rogue's eyes shot open and she looked like she was trying to scream."
Understanding dawned in Xavier's eyes. "She experienced your memory. Has she absorbed you recently?"
Wolverine nodded. "A day or so ago. It was the third time."
Xavier was silent for several moments, lost in thought.
"What? What are you thinking?" Wolverine urged impatiently.
"When you and Rogue were here the first time I had a chance to speak with Rogue. I know she did not delve into your memories, even though it would have been quite simple—she is truly a remarkable young woman. If she repressed them long enough . . . it is possible that in her current state of chaos your memories are becoming more dominant."
Wolverine's face paled. "How can I fix it?" he asked quietly.
"I may have an idea," the Professor began slowly. "However, I will not know anything for sure until I consult with a colleague of mine." He looked up at Wolverine. "Why don't you get some rest? If my hunch is correct, you will need to be at your best tomorrow."
Wolverine looked like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded. It wasn't like him to be so submissive, but he had a feeling that if he wanted Xavier to help Rogue, he was going to have to give up a little control. And that was something he was going to have to get used to.
Jean was getting irritated. It was one thing for her to be attacked in battle, that was something she expected. However, being attacked in the infirmary when she was trying to help a fellow mutant was inexcusable. How the hell did Wolverine expect her to help his precious Rogue if he jumped her any time she got near the woman?
She took a deep breath as she stood in front of Wolverine's door. The Professor had convinced him to try and get some rest, so the cranky Canadian had relented and retired to a room. Jean knew she should just let what had happened in the infirmary go, but as an X-Man, and even as a woman, she expected a little more respect than she had been getting.
She was just about to knock on the door, when it opened and a bare chested Wolverine stood there staring at her.
"You plan on standin' there all night?" he asked casually.
Jean flushed slightly. "I was just coming up to make sure you were settled in."
"Right."
She cleared her throat. "I was also making sure you were all right. In the infirmary you seemed a little . . . distressed."
She met his gaze with a steady one of her own. Wolverine looked at her for a moment before he sighed. He stepped back and motioned for her to come in. She accepted the invitation and walked into the center of the room. He left the door open and came to stand beside her.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Jean asked softly.
"If I hurt you."
Jean smiled. "It's all right."
Wolverine shrugged uncomfortably.
"Are you all settled in then?" Jean asked, sensing his discomfort.
"Yeah," Wolverine said, turning around to survey his new room. "It's not bad."
Jean watched him turn his attention to the rest of his room. "Wolverine, I know something happened in the infirmary. I want to help you, if you'll let me."
Wolverine didn't answer right away. He felt bad for attacking Jean like he'd done, but he'd already apologized and right now he thought all helpful efforts should be aimed at Rogue.
"Don't you think you should be down in the infirmary monitoring Rogue?"
Jean slowly, carefully, raised her hands to either side of Wolverine's head, trying not to startle him. "Not when I can help you right here," she whispered.
At the last second, Wolverine sensed the movement of her hands. Whipping around he grabbed both of her wrists in his hands. Before he could say anything, someone cleared his throat a few feet away.
Wolverine and Jean both spun their heads to face Cyclops standing in the doorway. He didn't look happy.
"Scott," Jean said breathlessly.
Cyclops' throat worked soundlessly as he tried to remain expressionless. A feat that was usually fairly simple considering his eyes were concealed by his visor. Still, even though he wasn't yelling, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Jean bowed her head slightly. "Good night, Wolverine," she murmured. She tried to hold her head high as she walked past her brooding boyfriend out of the room.
Wolverine didn't say anything for a long minute as Cyclops stared holes into his back. Finally, he sighed and turned around.
"Look, you don't need to tell me to stay away from your girl. Nothing—"
"It must burn you up that a boy like me saved your girlfriend's life. Gotta be careful. We may not be there next time."
Wolverine was silent with rage. He glared daggers at Cyclops as the younger man moved to leave. Before he closed the door behind him, Cyclops spoke up.
"Oh, and Wolverine? Stay away from my girl."
The door closed with a final click and Wolverine rolled his eyes.
"Rogue, you gotta wake up. Don't leave me alone with these people."
Images of Rogue's helpless form drifted through his mind and Wolverine found himself with the urge to go down to the infirmary and check on her. Then again, Jean should be down there watching her and he didn't want to run into her again yet. Of course, it was possible that she and One-Eye were making up in their bedroom right now. Thus, it was perfectly safe for him to go visit Rogue.
Wolverine nodded to himself and walked towards the door. As he left the room and closed the door behind him, Wolverine thought over everything that was happening. Here he was in a school full of young mutants, home of the X-Men. A few days ago he would have scoffed at the idea of accepting help from the team of mutant heroes. Now though, with Rogue's mind on the line, he found he was only too willing to accept whatever chances they offered him for bringing her back. Rogue had been making so much progress since he'd taken her from her mother's mansion, and the Brotherhood of Mutants, she deserved more than this.
The door to the infirmary swished open as Wolverine pressed the panel. His body tensed at the sight of the medical facility, painful memories making it hard for him to step foot inside. However, as his eyes fell on Rogue's still form, Wolverine felt his heart wrench in his chest. She was so pale against the stark white sheets. Wolverine dragged a chair over to rest beside her bed and took one of her small hands in his. He was careful to make sure he kept a sheet between his hand and hers.
Ever since Xavier had gone into her mind, Rogue had retreated so far back that she hadn't even regained consciousness. Wolverine vowed that if Xavier couldn't at least undo the further damage he'd done, he was going to remove the Professor's useless legs altogether.
After a few minutes Wolverine began to feel tired. Remembering what Xavier had said about needing his strength, he put Rogue's hand down on the bed and stood up. He found a cot against a wall and brought it over beside Rogue's bed. Lying down, he tried to sleep.
The next morning, Wolverine's supersensitive hearing woke him up as it picked up the swish of the door to the infirmary. In seconds he was up off his cot, claws extended and ready to defend Rogue's unconscious form.
Xavier smiled from his place in front of the door. "I assumed you would want to get started as soon as possible," he said knowlingly. Wolverine's claws retracted abruptly as he realized there was no threat. For a second, his mind warred between being pissed at the rude awakening and excitement at the prospect of bringing Rogue back. Rogue won out, and he nodded.
"Ready when you are, Wheels."
Professor Xavier raised his eyebrows, but let the nickname go. He picked up a device that was sitting in his lap. It looked like two Cerebros connected by long wires. He held it up to Wolverine.
"A contact of mine, Forge, is a very talented inventor. In fact, he is the man who designed my hoverchair."
Wolverine did not look interested. Xavier stifled a chuckle and continued.
"In any case, I explained to Forge the dilemna that Rogue is in and together we came up with an idea." He turned the contraption he was holding to face Wolverine. "In very little time, Forge was able to make some adjustments to one of his previous inventions. This machine will allow you to enter Rogue's mind, just as I did using telepathy. Once you are in her mind, you can find Rogue and convince her to take control of her mind once again."
Wolverine eyed the machine doubtfully. "I thought you said you couldn't convince her to pass Sabretooth."
"That is true, however, you are her protector, Wolverine." His gaze grew serious. "If anyone can make her feel safe enough to come out, it's you."
Wolverine thought it over. "You mean you want me to track her down in her own mind and tell her to wake up?"
Xavier shook his head. "Not exactly. Since Rogue is no longer consciously maintaining control over her mind, the different psyches she has absorbed from others are all coming loose and intermixing. She has to take control before she wakes up."
"You mean all the memories she's ever absorbed are all in there trying to take over?" Wolverine asked, trying to piece together everything the professor was telling him.
"Not all of them," Xavier corrected. "Rogue's absorption has never been permanent before."
Wolverine's eyes narrowed dangerously. "'Before? You mean that's changed?"
Professor Xavier's eyes were serious. "I'm afraid so. Wolverine, you said Sabretooth was still unconscious when you found him?"
"Yeah."
"Does he not have a healing factor similar to yours?"
Wolverine thought back to the burns along the edges of the hole in Sabretooth's shirt. Rogue had to have shot him with the plasma gun, but there had been no burn marks.
"Yeah."
Xavier sighed. "Then he should have regained consciousness before you returned home."
"We don't know that," Wolverine protested. "Rogue's absorbed me before and knocked me out for hours. If she could do that to me with barely a touch then—." He couldn't finish the sentence.
Xavier sighed. "In any case, if it was only temporary, Sabretooth would not be such a strong presence in her mind. When I tried to bring her out yesterday, she only made it as far as her memory of Sabretooth before she panicked and ran back into the depths of her mind." He took a deep breath. "Wolverine, we must face the possibility that Sabretooth is a permanent part of Rogue. If this is true, then we must get her to take control as quickly as possible. If not, it is possible that Sabretooth's mind will emerge first as the persona in control."
Wolverine's claws shot out with an angry metallic sound. He retracted them quickly and then released them again. After doing this a few times, he seemed to calm down slightly.
"He can't have her," he whispered tersely.
Xavier nodded. "Let's begin."
He gestured for Wolverine to lie down on the cot next to Rogue's hospital bed. When he was settled, Professor Xavier placed one of the Cerebro-like helmets on his head and the other one on Rogue. Wolverine had the odd thought that it was actually very impressive the way the man was able to maneuver his hoverchair around with such seeming ease.
When they were both situated, the Professor gave Wolverine a few last instructions.
"Now remember, Wolverine, Rogue has not dealt with her trauma in any way yet. Rape victims are plagued with a feeling of helplessness and a loss of control. You must make Rogue realize that in her mind, she is in charge. Her mind is anything she wants it to be and whatever she says, goes. Anything is possible."
Wolverine groaned in frustration. "Why don't you do this? You're better equipped to explain all this to her than I am."
"Perhaps, but she has an emotional attachment to you. She trusts you to protect her. That may make the difference when it comes time for her to face Sabretooth. You may be the reassurance she needs to face him and put him in his place."
Wolverine nodded. "All right." He took a deep breath. "Hit me." Xavier smiled. Reaching down to activate the helmets, he sent Wolverine's consciousness through the wires and into Rogue's mind.
For a split second, Wolverine's vision went black as Xavier turned on the device. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the darkness vanished, and Wolverine found himself in the middle of the strange landscape of Rogue's mind.
Immediately, Wolverine's nose twitched and his eyes narrowed. Growling, he crouched down and his claws shot out of his flesh. Sabretooth's scent was everywhere. Whipping around, Wolverine's eyes roamed over his surroundings, searching for the monstrosity that was posing such a threat to his companion.
Unable to determine where the scent was coming from, Wolverine slowly straightened up. Forcing himself to forget about Sabretooth, he set his mind to finding Rogue and set off.
Sabretooth watched silently as Wolverine disappeared farther into Rogue's mind, but he didn't follow. He saw the way Wolverine was sniffing the air for scents, and he didn't want the other man to find him. Not that he was afraid of fighting the little Wolverine. He was simply biding his time until he knew what was going on. After being duped by that puny bald man, he wasn't going to take any chances. His prison the man had created had disappeared when the man who created it left, and Sabretooth was making use of his returned freedom. He understood now that he was trapped in Rogue's mind. Sabretooth had never claimed to be an educated man. He didn't understand the details of how he had ended up in Rogue's mind, and he didn't care. He was a mutant and an assassin. He used his rage and brute strength to earn money, whether it be cage fighting or mercenary work. His sadistic nature made him the perfect killing machine and he enjoyed his work.
Now he found himself trapped in the mind of one of his victims. The little woman, who'd been nothing but a cock sheath to him not long ago, was now his jailer. She was in a position to control him and keep him imprisoned at her will.
Sabretooth grinned, showing sharp elongated canines. Or was she? Sabretooth had watched that bald man try to lead Rogue to the front of her mind. As soon as she had retreated after his attack, the man had shaken his head sadly and left. Somehow it was important for Rogue to get to the front of her mind, and apparently she couldn't do it alone.
Sabretooth felt a rush of adrenaline as he remembered the absolute terror in her eyes when he had knocked her down beneath him. It made him feel a primal sense of possession when he thought about the remembrance he'd seen in her eyes.
He nodded as he watched Wolverine disappear in the distance. If they wanted to get out, they'd have to pass him first.
As Wolverine made his way through Rogue's mind, he couldn't help but feel a touch of familiarity about the snowy Canadian pieces. He knew the Professor had assumed those were all from Sabretooth, but Wolverine wondered if they may possibly be his. After all, he reasoned, Rogue had absorbed him three separate times. Wasn't it possible that she retained some of his memories as well? He reluctantly thought back to Rogue's subconscious reaction in the infirmary the day before. It certainly seemed she'd remembered something.
Lost in thought it was a few minutes before Wolverine noticed the music. When it finally registered in his mind, his head snapped up and right in front of him he saw the first bar he'd taken Rogue to. The song "Hungry Eyes" was playing inside, and Wolverine felt a rush of warmth as his own corresponding memory came to mind.
Making his way to the bar, he cautiously walked in the door. The interior was just as familiar as the exterior, complete with the wave of smoke that rolled over him when he walked in. Looking around, he searched for some sign of Rogue. Falling back on his sense of smell, he followed his nose to a hooded figure at the bar. His heart tugged at his chest. She looked so small huddled up under the large green hood. Her tiny gloved hands peeked out of the sleeves, drawing small patterns on the scarred bar top. Slowly, he walked over and sat down next to her. For a few minutes he just sat there, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"You're a good dancer, Darlin'. This was a good time," he said quietly.
Rogue avoided his eyes, keeping her face hidden by her cloak.
"Ah like it here. It's stronger."
"Stronger?"
Rogue didn't look at him. She didn't even speak for several moments. Her fingers continued their restless dance over the bar top, though she didn't seem to notice. Wolverine was just starting to think she wasn't going to speak again when he heard her soft voice.
"Nothing's steady anymore. Not like this place. This place stands strong, Ah don't have to hold it up mahself."
She turned to face him and Wolverine forgot to breathe. Her soft brown eyes had a haunted dreamlike quality. As he met her gaze, it was almost as though they were trying to pull him inside of her. Shaking himself, Wolverine forced himself to concentrate.
"What do you mean, you don't have to hold it up yourself?"
Rogue turned her gaze back to the bar top. "You hold hold it up. You make so he can't get it." Her voice caught a little. "It doesn't fall down when Ah cry," she whispered.
Wolverine's jaw tightened. He knew that the "he" she was referring to was Sabretooth and he felt a surge of anger and pride. Anger at the beast that was doing this to his Rogue, and pride that he was somehow helping her to fight back, even subconsciously. He took a deep breath.
"I'm glad you like this memory," he admitted.
"Ah love this memory," Rogue agreed dreamily.
Wolverine could tell by her voice she was smiling. He knew he had to handle this carefully.
"I'd like to make another memory like this with you," he said softly. There was a strained silence for a few seconds before Rogue answered. "He won't let me out," she whispered.
Wolverine shook his head. "Rogue, this is your mind. Anything you say goes."
His simple explanation sounded stupid, even to his own ears. Still, he forced himself to focus on the frightened young woman beside him. Rogue shook her head adamantly. "That's not true. Nothing here is mine." Tears welled up in her eyes.
"That's not true, Rogue." He gestured around them. "This is yours."
Rogue shook her head again. "No. Not mine. Yours." She turned her haunted gaze to him again. "I'm safe here. You keep me safe." Wolverine tensed. More than anything in the world right now, he wanted to do exactly that. He wanted to track Sabretooth down, chop him into tiny pieces, burn the bits, and let Rogue scatter his ashes in a swamp. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. Leaning forward, he carefully took Rogue's hands in his. She watched him with curious eyes, but she let him take her hands.
"Listen to me, Rogue," he said tersely. "This isn't just my memory. It's ours. That's why it's so strong." He held her gaze. "I'm with you, Rogue. I know you can do this." He gently reached over and turned her so she was facing him. "Rogue, I want you to come back with me. You're too strong to let anyone make you a prisoner in your own head. I know you're scared, but you have to remember that your mind is what you make it. No one can trump your will, here."
Her hands froze in his grasp. "Logan, Ah don't wanna face him."
Her eyes shined with tears of desperation and Wolverine's grip on her hands tightened.
"Rogue, I am right here beside you. I want you to trust me. You have to know I would never let anything happen to you if I was there."
For what seemed like an eternity, he looked her in the eyes, willing his strength into her. It was of a strange importance to him that she still trusted him to protect her. A small part of his mind still felt it was his fault she'd been hurt because he hadn't been there, and he wanted to make up for it now. For the first time in a long time, Wolverine felt an emotional connection to a woman and he waited with bated breath for her answer. Finally, Rogue seemed to make up her mind.
"Ah trust you," she said quietly.
Wolverine nodded and stood up, pulling her up with him.
"Let's do it."
Together they walked out of the bar and into the open realm of Rogue's mind. As they walked, Wolverine thought of something.
"Rogue, did the Professor tell you how to come out of your subconscious?"
Rogue nodded. "He told me to visualize a portal and if Ah wanted it to, it would take me out." She stopped walking and looked around. "Ah suppose Ah could make it here."
"Seems as good a place as any," Wolverine agreed.
Rogue closed her eyes and after a few moments a bright blue portal appeared a few feet away from them. She looked at the portal as if surprised it had actually worked. Wolverine smiled.
"Well, looks like it's time to leave."
Rogue hesitated. Furtively glancing around, Wolverine noticed her body tense up.
"Rogue, what's wrong?"
"Ah don't know. Ah feel like Ah'm bein' watched."
Suddenly, a hulking figure flew out of nowhere and crashed into Rogue, carrying them both to the ground. Wolverine growled as Sabretooth stood up, lifting Rogue with him. Cursing his carelessness, Wolverine realized that his senses had adjusted to Sabretooth's scent in Rogue's mind to the point that he hadn't even noticed the man's presence.
"Rogue!" he shouted. Dismayed he watched as Rogue stared in terror at her captor. Instead of taking control and using her mind to subdue him, she just hung there in Sabretooth's grip, too horrified to move.
Sabretooth laughed. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my cage buddy. I've been lookin' for you, runt."
"Let her go, gutter trash. Your fight is with me," Wolverine growled. An eerie light shone in Sabretooth's eyes as he looked at Wolverine. His muscles twitched and his adrenaline raced as he anticipated the fight he'd been looking for since that day in Laughlin City.
"That it is," he murmured. Throwing Rogue's body to the ground, Sabretooth took a few menacing steps towards Wolverine. "I've been tracking you for days, little man," he taunted, flexing his taloned hands. "This pleasure has been a long time in coming."
Wolverine began to move backwards trying to draw Sabretooth farther away from Rogue. She stumbled to her feet and began to run in another direction than the one they had come from. He didn't know where she was going, and for a moment Wolverine started to try and follow her. Then he stopped. If he ran after her, Sabretooth would be right behind him and that would be the worst possible thing for Rogue right now. Resigned, he growled and faced his opponent. Sabretooth was watching him like a hawk, a predator's look in his feline eyes. Taking in the chillingly familiar look, Wolverine knew this wasn't going to be a short battle. He almost howled in frustration as they both began circling one another. If he didn't go after Rogue soon, he may not be able to bring her back. But if he left now Sabretooth would be free to wander around her mind, chasing after her.
Then an idea suddenly occurred to Wolverine. Struggling with his desire to shred Sabretooth where he stood, he concentrated on the ground beneath the other man.
"As much as I think you deserve a severe beating, Sabretooth," he ground out. "I don't think you deserve a good fight."
The floor beneath Sabretooth suddenly turned soft and oozed up around him.
"What the hell?!" Sabretooth growled. Roaring he swiped at the rising wall with his talons, but the soft matter eluded him. Just like Xavier had done, Wolverine motioned for the ground to continue surrounding the enraged Sabretooth. This time though, it didn't stop until it had fully encompassed him, hardening to form a cement prison. Then the ground opened up and the prison sank with its howling victim under the ground. A few moments later there was no sign that Sabretooth had even been there.
Wolverine took a deep breath to try and calm himself as his adrenaline continued to flow from the anticipation of a fight. Turning, he ran in the direction Rogue had fled. In what seemed like seconds he spotted a doorway. Following Rogue's scent, he ran to the door and stepped inside. Stopping short in surprise, Wolverine found himself standing in a jungle, surrounded by lush green foliage. Confused, he looked around for signs of Rogue. Just as he picked up her scent, Wolverine was startled when Rogue suddenly dropped down in front of him from the tree branches where she had ostensibly been hiding.
"So you came back," Rogue commented guardedly.
As he finally had a chance to get a good look at her, Wolverine's eyes nearly fell out of his head. She was dressed, barely, in a two-piece outfit made of animal fur. Her arms were encircled with various metal bands and a pair of hand sewn leather boots reached up to mid calf. Most of her body was bare, and for a minute all Wolverine could do was stare at her exposed skin. It seemed strange to him to see her look so comfortable wearing so little. Maybe it was the fact that Sabretooth had finally been defeated that gave her this renewed confidence. Or maybe it was the wicked looking spear that she lifted to point at his throat.
"You were a fool if you thought you could escape an Amazon."
Wolverine stared at her. An Amazon?
"Rogue, what are you talking about? I came back for you."
"For me?" she asked suspiciously. "What do you want with me?"
"I want you to take control, Rogue," he said calmly.
That got him a raised eyebrow. "And what makes you think I want to?" Wolverine sighed. "Rogue," he said carefully. "Sabretooth is gone. He can't hurt you anymore, please don't run away again."
"An Amazon does not run away," Rogue corrected him.
It seemed as though she was going to say something else when suddenly her eyes seemed to see something beside Wolverine. Slowly, she knelt down and Wolverine's eyes followed her. He started as he realized there was a large animal hide beside him. It had been sliced cleanly as though it were a trophy. Rogue put her spear down on the ground and gently ran a hand over its long yellowish fur. Wolverine was struck by the resemblance between the carcass at his feet and Sabretooth.
"You killed this for me?" she asked. Her voice was tinged with admiration.
"Yes," Wolverine said slowly. He didn't know what was going on, but clearly the best course of action right now was to run with it. "Will you take control now?"
Rogue looked up at him for a long moment. Finally, she nodded and stood up. "All right. You've proven your skill as a hunter and you've honored me with the gift. I see no reason I cannot accept you as my partner."
Before Wolverine could fully comprehend what she'd said, Rogue stepped forward and pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss. At first Wolverine was too surprised to react, but soon he found himself responding to the kiss. When her soft lips parted to give him better access, Wolverine felt his blood rush to lower points in his body. Groaning slightly, he slid his tongue in to explore the silky recesses of her mouth.
After what seemed like forever, they parted. Wolverine was breathing hard and Rogue's cheeks were flushed as he stared down at her for a moment. He tried to steady himself. Things were moving so fast he wasn't sure what to do anymore. Rogue didn't seem to notice his hesitation, as she moved her lips to his neck. Wolverine suppressed a groan. Dammit, he was trying to be a gentleman, but she wasn't making it easy.
"Rogue, slow down. What—?"
"You wanted me to take control, Wolverine. Whatever Ah say goes," she whispered, unknowingly repeating the words he'd said to her earlier. Her mouth was right next to his ear, and the feel of her breath against his skin gave Wolverine goose bumps. He growled slightly. The Wolverine did not get goose bumps.
Wolverine moved quickly, his arms snaking around her body and pulling her tightly to him. One of his hands came up to bring her head to his and allow him to claim her mouth again. Rogue gave in to the kiss for a moment, moaning under his ministrations, before shifting in his arms. Sliding out of his grip, she slid down his body, running her mouth lightly down his bare chest before kneeling down in front of him. Wolverine gritted his teeth as her fingers worked to unfasten his jeans, brushing tantalizingly over his growing erection. A voice in his head kept yelling for him to stop her, but Wolverine was too aroused to stop now.
As Rogue finally removed his pants, Wolverine reached down to pull her to her feet. Things were too one sided and the beast in him wanted to take control.
However, Rogue seemed to have other plans. Resisting his attempt to pull her up, she grabbed his hands and held them behind him. It would have been a simple task for Wolverine to break free of her grip, but his concentration was quickly diverted when Rogue leaned in and ran her tongue up the length of his cock. A stab of pleasure shot through Wolverine and thoughts of taking control were forgotten.
Rogue almost smiled in satisfaction as Wolverine gave in. Slowly, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Wolverine inhaled sharply and she began to slowly run her tongue in small circles around the head. As Wolverine started to squirm she took more of him into her mouth. Wolverine grunted and tried to thrust father, but Rogue wouldn't let him. She kept her grip on his arms, pushing them away from her as she leaned back. When Wolverine stopped straining towards her, she took the rest of him back in.
Wolverine growled low in his throat as Rogue sucked and licked him into a frenzy. He looked down and the sight of her head bobbing up and down on his cock almost sent him over the edge. His balls tightened and pulled closer to his body and he groaned. An orgasm was approaching fast.
"Rogue," he choked out.
He tried to pull away, but Rogue increased her efforts and a shudder wracked his body. Giving over to the sensations, he felt his senses flare up. He could smell his own arousal mingling with the musky scent of Rogue's and the combination sent him over the edge. As his climax washed over him, waves of pleasure wracked his body and suddenly everything went black.
"Wolverine, are you all right?"
Wolverine's eyes shot open. Bolting upright, he found himself sitting on the cot back in the infirmary. Confused, he stared for a moment at the Professor before looking around. When his eyes fell on Rogue's prone body lying on the bed beside him, the memory of what had just happened slammed into him. In a flash he ripped off the metal device on his head and jumped off of the cot. Professor Xavier watched him closely.
"Wolverine?"
Wolverine's eyes darted to the Professor's face.
"What happened? Why am I back?" he demanded.
Xavier raised his eyebrows. "You and Rogue did not enter the portal?" Wolverine shook his head.
Xavier smiled. "Well then, may I ask, how did you get her to visualize taking control?"
A flush colored Wolverine's face and he glared at the Professor.
"What the Hell's that supposed to mean?"
The Professor remained calm. "The image of the portal was merely a way for Rogue to visualize taking control. By stepping through the portal, Rogue was asserting her power. Obviously, you found another way for her to affirm control."
Wolverine opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. He seemed to mull something over before speaking again.
"You seem positive that Rogue took control. What makes you so sure?" he asked suspiciously.
Xavier smiled again and nodded his head towards Rogue's bed. Wolverine looked down and his heart nearly stopped as he found himself staring into a pair of amber eyes, with black feline slits in their center. Rogue was awake.
Wolverine stared in shock at Rogue's radically different gaze. Images of Sabretooth swirled through his mind and the beast inside him howled in outrage. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He was just about to pop his claws to relieve his frustration when Rogue's eyes got a faraway look in them. His nose twitched and suddenly a barrage of very different images assaulted his mind and he flushed a deep shade of red.
"Wolverine?" Rogue asked softly.
Her voice was hoarse from its long silence, making her seem young and fragile. Wolverine automatically reached out and took one of her hands in his, never taking his eyes off her face. His skin felt like it was on fire. Carefully, he searched her eyes for any signs of regret, shame, or anger. He was suddenly angry with himself that he'd let things get so out of hand. He should have stopped her.
Professor Xavier came up beside her bed.
"How are you feeling, Rogue?" he asked.
Rogue turned away from Wolverine, dropping his hand, to look the Professor in the eyes. She smiled slightly. "Ah feel fine, Professor."
He smiled. "Then you had no problem picturing the portal?"
"Actually, Professor, Ah didn't picture a portal." She frowned. "Ah don't know how Ah woke up."
Xavier's face remained neutral. "What is the last thing you remember?"
Rogue paused for several moments before answering. "Um, Ah remember fantasizing," she said carefully.
Xavier nodded and Wolverine froze. The Professor noticed his reaction and smoothly intervened.
"Wolverine, would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I would like to talk to Rogue in private."
"Professor Xavier, Ah feel fine. We can go to your office if ya like," Rogue spoke up confidently.
She sat up and the sheet fell down around her waist. The Professor respectfully turned his head, as it became obvious that Rogue had forgotten she was not clothed. Wolverine couldn't help but stare. He could feel the beast inside of him automatically searching her breast where Sabretooth had marked her. When he found nothing but an expanse of creamy smooth skin, his beast almost purred in triumph. Sabretooth's mark was gone. She was his again. That last thought snapped him out of his reverie and he looked up to find Rogue watching him. Smirking, she deliberately raised the sheet to cover her chest.
The Professor tactfully broke the silence. "Very well, Rogue. There are spare clothes in that cupboard over there, Wolverine, if you'd like to get her something to put on."
Wolverine nodded and went to retrieve a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt.
"Rogue, when you're dressed, if you would kindly follow me," Professor Xavier continued. "I'll be waiting right outside."
"All right, Professor," Rogue agreed.
She glanced over at Wolverine. For a few seconds they stared at one another. Finally, Wolverine turned his back to allow Rogue to dress. Rogue slid off of the bed and began to pull on the clothes he'd given her.
Wolverine forced himself to stare straight ahead at the row of sterilized cabinets, refusing to give in to his urge to look behind him. Rogue had seemed strangely unconcerned with her state of undress. She hadn't blushed as Wolverine had expected when the sheet had fallen around her waist. She'd undressed without shame in front of him when they had been on their first mission at Pharm-Tech, but Wolverine had assumed she was just caught up in her work. Still, Wolverine just couldn't shake the feeling that something was different now. His thoughts turned to what she'd said earlier about what she remembered. A fantasy? Is that all she thought it had been?
Wolverine shook his head. He was too confused right now to figure it out. And thinking about it was starting to affect him. As Rogue finished dressing and followed the Professor to his office, Wolverine went upstairs. He needed a cold shower before he and Rogue talked.
"So," Professor Xavier began as Rogue closed the door to his office behind her. "You seem to be in perfect condition physically. How do you feel mentally?"
"No offense, Professor, but Ah've had enough of people poking around in mah head to last me a lifetime," Rogue said wryly. "Let's just say Ah'm fine all around."
Xavier steepled his fingers in front of himself and looked at Rogue steadily for a few moments.
"Rogue," he started carefully. "You experienced a very traumatic—".
"Don't," Rogue stopped him. "Ah don't wanna talk about it. Ah've been filing memories away since Ah got mah powers, Ah don't need anyone to help me deal with a bad memory."
"Rogue, there is a world of difference between keeping the memories of others organized in your head and out of your consciousness and suppressing a disturbing memory of your own. I realize it is not pleasant, but you must deal with what happened."
"Let it go, Professor," Rogue said levelly. "Ah handled it."
"How?" Xavier inquired.
"Ah visualized Wolverine in mah mind.
"You visualized him?"
"Yeah, just like you told me, anything Ah wanted to happen happened. Ah defeated him. Ah faced him and Ah won, no fuss no muss."
She stood up. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
Professor Xavier was silent as he processed this new information. Rogue was obviously not prepared to deal with what Sabretooth had done to her, and Xavier knew that this wasn't an issue he should pursue if she wasn't ready. As if that wasn't bad enough, it seemed as though Wolverine had interfered more than he should have. If Wolverine had indeed tried to defeat Sabretooth on Rogue's behalf, that meant that as soon as Wolverine returned to his own body, whatever effects he'd had on Rogue's mind would have disappeared. Xavier needed to know more about the specifics of what Wolverine had done. But, if Wolverine had defeated Sabretooth, and Rogue did not use the visualization of the portal, than how had she managed to retake control?
Xavier took a deep breath. "Rogue, do you remember when I told you that all you had to do to come back to complete consciousness was to imagine a portal?"
"Yes."
"That was merely a visualization. Obviously, you managed to find another way to visualize taking control."
"Okay," Rogue agreed slowly. "So?"
"Would you mind explaining to me how you did it?"
Rogue blushed slightly before regaining her composure.
"Actually, yes Ah would mind." She got up and turned to leave. "Ah think Ah'll go find Wolverine now."
As the door closed behind her, Professor Xavier shook his head. He hadn't even gotten a chance to ask her how Wolverine had been able to take her hand in the infirmary when neither of them had been wearing gloves.
Wolverine sighed as the cold spray pounded into his back. He leaned his crossed arms on the back of the shower and lowered his head.
"When did life get so goddamn complicated?" he muttered to himself.
It seemed like one minute he was accepting a job offer and the next he had himself a partner. He couldn't even remember why he'd ever taken such a personal interest in Rogue in the first place. He'd worked with people before without forming any kind of a relationship with them. What had possessed him to get involved in Rogue's life?
Images of Rogue when he had first met her floated into his mind's eye. She'd looked so small when she'd walked into the room with that huge plasma gun slung over her shoulder. Not that that impression had lasted long. She'd proven to him pretty quick that she was no kid and wouldn't tolerate being treated like one. Their first kiss had driven home that point on numerous levels.
Kiss? Wolverine started. When had he started considering that a kiss? Sure, their lips had pressed together, but that had just been a defensive move on her part to keep him from getting her back for shooting him with a plasma gun. Wolverine snorted. For it to be a kiss, he would actually have had to feel something for her.
Wolverine sighed and turned around. Not that he didn't care, he admitted to himself. She was a competent fighter and a smart accomplice; Wolverine respected that. There was no reason he shouldn't care what happened to her now that she was staying with him. And he would have to be a monster to be apathetic towards her situation.
When she had been with the Brotherhood she'd been exhausted and overworked. She gave new meaning to the word `dedicated.' Even Wolverine took time out to drink and screw. Rogue didn't even practice with her powers. Wolverine smiled. Once she'd started practicing though, damned if she didn't learn quickly. Hell, after a few more days she might have—
But she didn't even get the chance. That bastard had taken it away from her. Wolverine clenched his fists, his claws itching to be released. He'd brought her with him so she could get back on her feet and get on with her life. Instead, she'd been viciously attacked and sent back to square one.
As Wolverine turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, he wondered what Rogue would be like now that she was consciousness and back in control, in the aftermath of her ordeal.
Suddenly Wolverine picked up a scent. Someone was in his room. Looking around, he realized he didn't have a towel. Luckily, Wolverine was not known for being shy and right now he did not have enough room in his head to worry about etiquette. Grabbing the door handle, he jerked it open. There was a gasp and the muffled sound of cloth hitting the floor. As he stepped out of the bathroom, Wolverine looked up and found himself eye to eye with Jean Grey. She was standing there in embarrassed shock and her face was becoming the same shade as her hair.
"Something I can do for you, Red?" he asked in amusement.
Jean quickly regained her composure. "Wolverine, I thought you might need some clean towels."
Wolverine raised his eyebrows. "What gave you that idea?"
A hint of a blush threatened to color Jean's cheeks again and Wolverine knew she was struggling not to look down. He was debating on whether or not to make the situation difficult for her, when suddenly the door to his room burst open. Jean and Wolverine both turned to see Rogue standing in the doorway.
"Rogue," Jean said in surprise. Her voice seemed a little breathless and Rogue narrowed her eyes. "How are you feeling?" Jean asked calmly.
Rogue walked towards Jean, her movements taking on a strange predatory air that hadn't been there before. Jean drew herself up to her full height and fixed the shorter woman with a steady gaze, refusing to be intimidated.
Just as she opened her mouth to assert herself as the adult in this situation, Rogue's fist swung out and connected with her jaw. Her bare skin met Jean's for the briefest of seconds and the transfer flickered. By the time Jean hit the ground, Rogue had filed away the glimpse of the other woman's memories and simply stood there watching her.
Jean shook off the slight dizziness from both the hit and Rogue's draining touch and stood up. Her eyes were grim and shined with suppressed anger. It was obvious she wanted desperately to retaliate.
"I realize you have been through a great deal, Rogue," she said quietly. "But the fact remains that here at the institute, we do not use our powers against fellow mutants and violence is never acceptable."
Rogue remained expressionless and reached her hand out closer to Jean's face. The older woman didn't flinch as she watched Rogue's finger get nearer and nearer to her skin. In one suspenseful moment, Rogue laid her finger on Jean's nose. The redhead's eyes closed in anticipation of the transfer—but nothing happened.
Rogue grinned. "Tag. You're it sweetie."
Wolverine and Jean both stared in open surprise and for a second there was total silence. Then Wolverine burst out laughing. Jean jerked her head away from Rogue's touch, glaring at the younger woman. She turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Wolverine clapped a hand on Rogue's shoulder.
"When did you learn control like that?" he asked, chuckling.
"Ah practiced at a bar in Banff while you were out on your job," Rogue said. Her eyes shone with excitement. For a moment, she was back in time, waiting for Wolverine to return to his cabin so she could tell him her good news. It felt just as good as she'd thought it would.
Wolverine grinned teasingly. "How good is your control?"
Rogue quirked a playful eyebrow. "Not nearly as good as yours."
Wolverine looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"It just amazes me that you can stand there talkin' to me about mah ability to touch people with a completely straight face when ya ain't got a stitch of clothing on you."
With that last word, Rogue spun around and walked towards the bed and flopped down on the comforter.
Wolverine followed her with his eyes. Nudity had never concerned him in the least. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfectly natural state for a man to be in. What surprised him was Rogue's apparent nonchalance. Once again, he found her lack of shyness intriguing. Obviously a test was in order.
He walked over and dropped down on the bed beside her. Stretching out on his back, he folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Then he waited for her reaction.
When there was no noise or movement for several minutes, Wolverine opened his eyes. Rogue had leaned a little closer to him and her nose was twitching in a hauntingly familiar gesture. Wolverine recognized the motion. She was taking in his scent. Fire roared through his veins at the primal gesture and he turned a heated gaze to her questioning gaze.
"Ah can smell you," she whispered.
"I just took a shower, what more do you want from me?" he asked gruffly, eyes running over her body.
Rogue's voice was throaty as she responded. "No, Ah can smell *you.* Under the soap and water." She leaned even closer and Wolverine twitched as he felt a pleasant sensation crawl over his skin as her breath feathered across his chest.
Rogue felt his reaction, but she was too wrapped up in these new scents to pay attention. Her senses seemed to be magnified and her head spun with the new experience. She turned her face up to his neck. She could smell the soap he'd used to clean his hair as well as the spicy scent that seemed to be all Wolverine. As she took in his scent, blowing little tufts of air across chest, the beginnings of goosebumps rose across Wolverine's skin. Suddenly a sound reached Rogue's ears.
"Ah can hear your heartbeat," she whispered in awe.
She leaned down to press her ear to his chest, careful to hold her powers in check.
Wolverine closed his eyes as the length of her soft hair fell like a curtain on his chest. As her warm breath blew softly against him, Wolverine felt his pulse beat a little quicker. As his blood began to flow to the lower parts of his body, Wolverine's eyes shot open and he turned slightly, forcing Rogue to lift her head. His mind flashed to the image of Rogue pleasuring him in her own mind and he felt a sudden need to make sure the next time was all about her. At this rate, the same thing was going to happen all over again, and despite the heat Rogue's primal actions were unwittingly raising in his blood, Wolverine's pride wouldn't allow him to give in.
"Rogue," he said softly.
Rogue dragged her attention away from his heartbeat. For a long moment, Wolverine was transfixed at the vision of her soft hair and wildly primal amber eyes against the background of his naked chest. The responding surge in his blood made him curse himself for not putting on clothes. Pushing the less than innocent thoughts from his mind, he fixed Rogue with a casual look.
"Never heard a heartbeat before?"
Rogue's eyes bored into his with an amazing intensity.
"Never like this." She paused before continuing, still not breaking eye contact. "Am Ah makin' you nervous, Logan?"
Wolverine snorted and rolled his eyes, but he was straining to keep his body from betraying him.
Rogue watched him with the curiosity of a predator watching its prey. She smiled and leaned closer to him, careful to let her breasts brush against his bare chest as she moved her face closer to his. Wolverine's breath caught in his throat as he felt her through the material of her sweatshirt. Images of her naked chest as he had seen in the infirmary flashed through his mind and he tried to sit up. Rogue didn't move and he was faced with the choice of sitting up and bringing his face against hers, or lying back. Wolverine hated being cornered.
"Something on your mind, Rogue," he asked stalling. He refused to back down from her. He was the Wolverine, dammit, and he was not going to fall to pieces just because Rogue decided to go all animalistic on him.
"Oh, it's crossed my mind a few times," she said lightly.
Her voice was lower and the way she was pressing her body against his and looking at him with those hungry eyes left little doubt as to what she meant. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour, the scene in Rogue's mind flashed through Wolverine's head. This new bestial side of Rogue was turning him on and Wolverine felt his control slipping. Desperately he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Damn, darlin' looks like you took on more of Sabretooth's characteristics than I thought."
The second the words were out of his mouth, Wolverine regretted them. Rogue's face contorted in shock and hurt and her body jerked away from him like she'd been burned. Wolverine struggled to say something to calm her down, but his tongue was tied and no words would come out. He lifted his hand, but Rogue backed up off the bed. Without a word she walked to the door and jerked it open. For the second time that night, the door to Wolverine's room slammed shut.
The Professor rubbed his temples as Jean sat in front of his desk. She had come storming into his office fifteen minutes ago raging on about Rogue. He sighed.
"Jean, you know that one of our goals here is to help mutants learn to control their abilities. If Rogue has gained control over her powers, she is to be congratulated, not penalized."
"Professor, I am not arguing with that. You know that I believe in your dream and I've worked very hard here to help other mutants with their powers." Jean protested. "I'm simply saying that I find it strange that Rogue just suddenly woke up with control of her powers."
"Why does that concern you so?" Xavier asked tiredly.
Jean sat forward. "Professor a little while ago I was talking with Wolverine and Rogue entered the room. She became agitated, very quickly, and used her powers on me. I assumed it had been an accident, but then she touched me again without opening the transfer. Obviously, she had the control and either chose not to use it, or her control is hit and miss."
Xavier noticed the slight bruising on Jean's cheek and tactfully refrained from inquiring as to how Rogue had used her powers.
"What do you suggest we do, Jean?"
Jean struggled to keep her emotions from showing on her face. She was angry and she knew the Professor would not respond kindly to that kind of emotion from one of his X-Men. If she wanted to get revenge on Rogue, she needed to stay focused and calm.
"I want to question Rogue about her control," she responded confidently. "I'm not sure it's safe for her to be running around the school like a loose cannon. Someone could be hurt. And what about her eyes?" she added. "Her eyes look like a cat's. They used to be normal."
"Jean, you know I do not like to discuss the private business of my students with others. However, I will say that it is entirely possible that Rogue's control over her powers may have been affected by her recent ordeal."
Jean furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't understand, Professor."
Xavier shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jean, but I cannot discuss Rogue's personal business with you. If she chooses to divulge that information, I will certainly let you know."
Jean was about to argue when the phone on Xavier's desk rang. Xavier turned away and answered the phone. For several moments he listened quietly.
"I understand."
Jean waited patiently for him to relay the information to her. She could tell by the _expression on his face that it was serious.
"Jean, contact Cyclops and the others and have them meet me in the War Room. I'm afraid there has been a change of plans concerning the Mutant Registration Headquarters."
Professional instincts took over and Jean immediately sent a mental message to Cyclops and the others. Then she turned back to the Professor.
"What do you mean, there's been a change in plans?" Jean asked.
Xavier's face was grim. "Apparently, they are preparing to move their operation to another locale. We cannot take the chance of losing them. The information they have gathered on mutants must be dealt with tonight."
Jean was solemn. The X-Men had been keeping an eye on the Mutant Registration Headquarters for some time now and they had been trying to find a peaceful way to destroy the program's files without drawing attention to themselves or risking any lives unnecessarily. Unfortunately now that they were moving away, it looked like an attack on the complex was the only option left. Of course a quick in and out procedure would be attempted, but Jean knew as well as the Professor that the building was heavily guarded. This was not going to be easy.
Jean stood up and was about to leave when the door to the Professor's office swung open and an agitated looking Rogue stormed in.
"Ah'm goin' with you," she said shortly.
"Rogue, what are you--?" Jean sputtered.
"Don't bullshit me, Jean. Ah heard you both from the hallway, you're gonna hit the Mutant Registration Headquarters."
"How could you have heard that? Was you ear pressed against the door?" Jean demanded, irritated at the younger woman's gall. Besides, she added to herself, no one mentioned an attack out loud.
"Not that it's any of your business, but mah hearing seems to have gotten a lot better since Ah woke up. And don't expect me to believe that your "plans concerning the Mutant Registration Center" include a nice public discussion."
"Rogue," the Professor cut in smoothly. "What Jean means is that you are a guest here. It would not be our place to endanger—"
"Do you have any idea how many times Ah've done this kinda thing?" she asked harshly. "Ah've been breaking into places, stealing information, and deleting files since Ah was thirteen." She looked Xavier in the eye. "Ah'm goin'," she said simply.
Just then Wolverine burst into the room. "Going where?"
Xavier and Jean swiveled their heads to face Wolverine as he stormed into the room and stood facing Rogue.
"Rogue where are you going?" he demanded.
"It's none of your damn business, Wolverine. Ah don't have to explain mahself to you," Rogue snapped.
"The way your mind works, even I would be old and gray before you could explain yourself to me," he responded.
"Then Ah won't even try," Rogue shot back. She whipped around to face Jean. "Ah'll be in the War Room."
"The War Room? What the hell for?" Wolverine asked loudly.
"To be debriefed," Rogue responded hotly. "Now get outta mah way."
"You're going on a mission with the X-Men?" Wolverine shouted incredulously.
"Ah told you, it's none of your damn business!" Rogue screamed back.
"The hell it isn't, I'm not gonna sit here and watch you traipse off with the Peace Corp, I'm coming with you."
"The hell you are!" Rogue shot out, stalking out the door.
Wolverine roared in frustration before going after her, slamming the Professor's door behind him.
Jean stared at the door in silence. Then she turned back to the Professor.
"Professor—"
"They're going with you, Jean," Xavier said tiredly. "See that they're debriefed."
"Professor, you can't be serious. Look at them! They can barely control their tempers with each other, who knows how volatile they'll be on a field mission."
"I dare say they are both quite experienced with this sort of thing, Jean. I believe that when they are in the moment they will be as professional as any member of our team. I certainly do not want to deny them the chance to participate in a worthy cause."
Jean felt a retort come to her mind, but she remained silent. Leaving the Professor's office, she went to meet the others in the War Room.
That night Cyclops, Jean, Storm, Rogue, and Wolverine were all lined up outside the fence to the Mutant Registration center. Rogue and Wolverine were side by side, neither one speaking or looking at the other.
"All right," said Cyclops. "Jean, you stay here and maintain a psychic link with the rest of us. If we get separated, I want to know everyone's okay. Storm, you stay with Jean and give us a lot of fog. We need to get as close as we can without being seen." He hesitated briefly before turning to Wolverine and Rogue. "You two follow me."
Everyone nodded their understanding and Cyclops moved forward. Silently, Wolverine and Rogue fell in behind him. A blanket of fog rolled over them as Storm used her powers to cloak them from view. When they reached the fence's perimeter, Cyclops paused, waiting for Jean to contact him and let him know the link was up. After a few moments, he felt the touch of Jean's presence in his mind. He turned to face Rogue and Wolverine, who both nodded. Turning to face the fence in front of them, they each waited for Jean to lift them over one by one. Once they were over, Cyclops stood up and turned to make sure Rogue and Wolverine were with him. They both nodded again and he turned to Rogue.
"All right, Rogue. Do your thing."
It was clear from the tone of Cyclops' voice that he didn't approve of `her thing.' Still, he had to admit that it was the easiest way to get the information they needed without physically hurting anyone and, as the Professor had pointed out, it wasn't his place to say whose powers could be used and whose couldn't. The Professor had always believed it was imperative to avoid at all costs giving any mutant the impression that his or her powers were inherently "bad."
Oblivious to Cyclops' inner conflict, Rogue didn't even turn around when he spoke to her. Keeping her attention focused on the lone guardhouse as she began to move towards it. Although he and Rogue had not spoken since their blowout in the Professor's office, Wolverine could not help but notice the grace Rogue was moving with. Not that she hadn't always been graceful. She'd been good before, during the first job he'd been on with her she had impressed him with her silence and stealth. But that had been the kind of stealth that you got from training. Now she moved with an almost careless grace, like a cat. Every muscle seemed to express of her control and she radiated confidence in her every move. A chill ran over Wolverine's skin as he realized that the grace he saw now was just one more of Sabretooth's influences that were now a permanent part of Rogue.
He didn't have time to dwell on the troubling thought for long. What seemed like only minutes later, Rogue returned. She had the keys to the Mutant Registration building.
"The file cabinets are in a room on the second floor," she reported. "The building has a night staff of eight men. Three of them are patrolling the grounds right now, and the other four are inside."
"That's only seven," Cyclops frowned. "You said there were eight."
Rogue looked at him with a deadpan _expression. "There *were* eight. Now there's seven. The eighth one is in mah head now. He'll be back with us in a couple of hours."
Cyclops rolled his eyes. Fortunately his visor made him the only one who knew that.
"All right, let's go."
With Rogue in the lead, they made it to the front door of the building in record time. Thanks to the guard's memories, Rogue knew when and where the others made their rounds. Soon they were inside. As they stepped in, Cyclops moved to resume the lead. As one Wolverine and Rogue spoke out.
"Wait."
Cyclops looked at them in confusion. Rogue spoke up first.
"Laser beams. We walk a few more feet and they'll set off the alarm."
"How do you know that?" Cyclops asked bewildered.
"We can smell them," Wolverine said quietly.
Rogue avoided his eyes and just nodded. Cyclops sighed and looked around for another way. His eyes landed on a pipe running along the ceiling of the hallway. Wolverine followed his gaze.
"Those pipes won't hold me." He turned to Rogue. Without a word, he folded his hands and lifted her up to get a hold on the pipe. Once again moving with stolen grace, Rogue went hand over hand down the pipe. Cyclops and Wolverine lost sight of her when she turned a corner, but a few minutes later there was a short buzz and Rogue came walked back towards them.
"Ready?"
The two men nodded and soon they were all on their way to the file room. They reached the door and Rogue used the guard's keys to get them inside. A single computer was in the middle of the room and the wall was lined with filing cabinets. Rogue immediately headed for the computer while Cyclops and Wolverine attacked the files. Rogue had finished corrupting the files on the computer and Wolverine and Cyclops were halfway through the files, when alarms went off loudly around the complex. All three of them jerked their heads up at the sound.
"What the hell is that?" Wolverine shouted.
"Something else must have set off the alarms!" Rogue yelled, shutting down the computer.
Cyclops sent a mental call out to Jean. A few seconds later he was all business as he opened fire on the rest of the filing cabinets with his optic blasts.
"No use being subtle now. Jean says a huge robot just showed up outside. It's heading right for us."
No words were needed as all three of them rushed out of the room. Shouts sounded down the hall as they were met with oncoming personnel. The room was in a corner and there were two hallways going away from it, both blocked by armed men. Before Cyclops could give an order, Wolverine roared and leapt at the guards rushing towards them. Cyclops swore in frustration and turned his optic blasts on the others. Amid the shouting and screaming, Rogue felt a surge of adrenaline and her body seemed to take on an instinctual life of its own. Leaping at a guard that had made it past Cyclops, she ducked and brought her arms up hard under his weapon. Seconds later, she was the one with the weapon. It wasn't long before the guards were no longer a concern.
Wolverine heaved as his body healed his wounds and he was left with a battle high. Together, they all raced to leave the building. As soon as they were out of the door, they all looked up in shock. Storm was circling in the sky, using lightening to keep a three story robot from gaining ground towards the building. Wolverine took off to help her. It seemed like slow motion as the robot turned its attention towards him.
"Wolverine, look out!" Jean screamed.
She was too late as a laser shot out of the robots hand, hitting Wolverine and knocking him to the ground. Cyclops sent an optic blast towards the robot, severing its arm. Storm hit it with all she had, ice freezing its circuitry. Still the robot didn't fall. Fortunately they seemed to have done enough damage to hurt it. A large roar sounded as the robot activated jets in its feet and lifted into the sky. Straightening out, it flew off.
"Wolverine!" Cyclops yelled. He ran over to his fallen comrade. Wolverine still wasn't moving. The men from the compound were still running around and Cyclops made a quick decision. Throwing Wolverine over his shoulder, he ran with him to the Blackbird. The fence had already been destroyed and Rogue was right behind him as the X-Men all boarded the jet. Taking off, they started back towards the mansion as Wolverine was laid on an emergency bed.
Rogue stood next to Wolverine, one of his hands in hers as he came around.
"Damn tin watchmen. Anyone get the license on that bucket of bolts?"
"Wolverine," Cyclops said in relief. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, One-Eye," Wolverine grumbled.
"Prove it. Follow a train of thought, out loud," Cyclops insisted.
Wolverine glared at him. "A cyclops is a one-eyed monster. One-eyed monster is slang for dick. Cyclops is a dick."
There was a moment of silence as the women tried not to laugh.
Cyclops looked at Wolverine for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. "Okay."
Rogue gritted her teeth and rolled over in her bed. The black leather uniform the X-Men had provided for her had been very functional in battle, but it was damned uncomfortable to sleep in. As she gripped the pillow and attempted to sleep, Rogue tried to quash the nagging thought that she was being irrational. She'd been so irritated when she got back from the Mutant Control Center, she'd forgone a shower and just thrown herself into bed. Xavier had been kind enough to provide a room for her and Rogue was grateful she would not have to deal with Wolverine tonight.
Wolverine. When he had been hit by that robot, everyone had flipped out. Everyone except Rogue. She tried to tell herself that it was only because she'd known he would heal, but she wasn't entirely convinced. Something about the rush she'd felt back at the mutant control center had felt different. Rogue had always treasured control above all else. She learned early on how to file away information in her mind, keeping it clear of the inconsequential. Even in battle situations she had always been cool-headed and precise.
Tonight had been different. Her senses were still hyper-keen and the scent of blood in the hallway had driven her wild. When Wolverine had gotten hit, she had seen it through a red haze. There had been no stab of concern, no emotional reaction at all. She had never been overwhelmed like that before in her life.
Rogue mulled it over in her head. She had been just fine until her mother had hired Wolverine. That man had thrown her whole world into upheaval. All of a sudden her strict schedule of missions and training went down the drain. He'd pulled her out of her comfortable routine and taken her dancing and drinking. He got her to start meditating, taking a good look insider herself. Now all her hard won control was gone. When she needed it most it failed her and Rogue could feel her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't hold onto her control and rely on someone else at the same time. The memory of lying next to Wolverine naked body on his bed earlier came unbidden to her mind. She winced inwardly at the rejection she'd suffered as he'd ignored her suggestive tone and compared her to that monster. Sharply, she shook the image out of her head. Enough was enough. She didn't need Wolverine to be her crutch. Rogue sighed as she drifted off to sleep. She didn't need anyone.
Sabretooth blinked in confusion. Something was very different, if he could just put his talon on it. His nose twitched tentatively and suddenly his eyes widened. Bolting up in bed, he scrambled to his feet only to feel himself fall back to sit on the bed. Blinking in confusion, he realized his center of balance had shifted considerably. Looking down, his mouth dropped open as he discovered the reason for his shift in balance.
"I have tits," he said dumbly. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. After a few minutes, understanding dawned on him.
"I'm in the frail's body."
Adjusting to his new center of balance, Sabretooth stood up and walked over to the mirror above the dresser against the wall. His own feline amber eyes stared at him from a smooth pale face with waves of white streaked brown hair hanging down his back. A feral smile showed slightly elongated fangs as an idea came to Sabretooth.
He quickly scanned the room until his eyes fell on a small clock. It had a circular glass face and it took almost no effort for Sabretooth to break the delicate glass. Picking up one of the bigger shards, he drew it firmly along his arm, smiling as the delicate skin of Rogue's body closed up the superficial wound almost immediately.
Satisfied that his healing factor was still functioning in this new body, Sabretooth laughed softly.
"Not that I'll need my healing factor. You wouldn't dare attack this body."
Leaving the room, Sabretooth sniffed out Wolverine's scent. He was making his way down the hallway when another scent wafted over to him. It smelled light wind and rain. Like nature itself had formed a body of flesh and blood. Hiding in a corner, Sabretooth watched as a chocolate skinned woman with flowing white hair walked past him. Her regal presence and the graceful way she ascended a flight of stairs captured Sabretooth's attention. He waited a minute before following, careful not to make any noise. When he reached the open door to the room she had entered, Sabretooth crouched down in the hallway and watched her from the shadows. His eyes followed her every movement as she removed her clothes and laid down in her bed. The wind from an open skylight rustled the sheet as she drew it over her body. With all the patience of a predator watching its prey, Sabretooth waited for the woman to fall asleep.
As he crept closer to the bed, Sabretooth felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. The sight of the beautiful woman who had the scent of the wild all around her lying there naked and vulnerable nearly sent Sabretooth over the edge. His bloodlust roared up and in one graceful movement, he leapt lightly onto the bed, straddling Storm's sheet covered body.
Storm's eyes flew open to find Rogue on top of her, one hand clasped around her throat.
"Scream for me," Sabretooth whispered.
Storm's face remained serene and a milky white light flowed over her eyes as she summoned her weather wielding powers. A thick bolt of lightening split the sky and flashed through Storm's open window, striking Rogue's back.
Rogue's body twitched, a gurgle bubbling in her throat. As her body went limp, her grip on Storm's throat went slack. Storm sat up and Rogue's body slid to the floor.
For a moment, Storm remained in her bed, her sheets drawn up to cover her chest. She waited cautiously for any signs of another attack.
"Rogue," she said softly.
Rogue's eyelids fluttered open. Looking up into Storm's concerned face, she blinked her eyes in confusion.
"Ororo?" She looked around at her surroundings. "Where am Ah?"
"You're in my room in the attic at Xavier's Institute."
Storm rose up off her bed carefully, wrapping her sheet around her body.
"Rogue, may I look at your back please?"
Rogue looked at her like she was crazy, but she sat up and turned to let Storm examine her back. The weather witch ran one hand lightly over the flawless skin of Rogue's back. There was a hole scorched in her uniform where the lightning had struck her, but her flesh was unmarred.
"Your back has already healed," she observed. Her calm voice smoothly hid her surprise. "Have you absorbed Wolverine lately, Rogue?"
Rogue's skin began to crawl.
"No. What do you mean, mah back is `healed'?"
"Rogue, why are you in my room?" Storm asked steadily.
A bad feeling began to creep over Rogue. Again, she looked around at her surroundings, hoping for a clue. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep in her own bed. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had no idea how she'd gotten into Storm's room, let alone why. The icy grip of fear clutched at her stomach as an unpleasant thought came to Rogue's mind.
"You hurt me," she stated, turning back to Storm. A part of her hoped that she was wrong and Storm would deny it.
"Rogue, I did not want to hurt you. You must realize how unsettling it is to wake up with someone's hand around your throat. I was only protecting myself."
Rogue's heart sank and she felt sick. Hazy images, as if from a dream, began to float back into her memory. Images of looming above Storm with one hand around the other woman's throat drifted through her mind's eye. A breeze wafted through the room and Rogue realized her uniform had been damaged as the air caressed her back. Storm had to have hit her with lightening to burn a hole in her uniform. And she was already healed.
Rogue scrambled to her feet and moved for the door.
"Rogue, wait. Please, talk to me," Storm called after her.
Rogue spun around. "Ah'm sorry, Ororo. Ah must have had a nightmare and started sleepwalking. Ah'll just go back to bed."
With that, Rogue turned and dashed out the door.
Behind her Storm shook her head in concern and went over to close her door. As she slid the lock into place, she made a mental note to talk with Professor Xavier in the morning.
Rogue tried to remain calm as she made her way down the stairs from Storm's attic room.
"Sleepwalking," she muttered nervously to herself. "Ah've never sleepwalked in mah life."
She tried taking deep breaths to ease the flow of adrenaline that was surging through her system. Her legs were moving faster and faster, carrying her in the direction of Wolverine's room. Her eyes fixed on the spot directly in front of her and she tried to shut all other thought out of her mind. Desperately she reached into her reserves for the control she'd always believed she had, but still the hazy images taunted her.
*Scream for me.*
A burst of panic hit Rogue and she broke into a run. The voice had been hers, but they weren't her words. She was remembering something her body had done, but her mind screamed that it wasn't her. A cold sweat broke out over her skin as she spotted the door to Wolverine's room. Relief seemed within reach. Wolverine would help her. He would tell her that she was still the Rogue she had always been. He would chase the shadows away.
Jerking the door open, Rogue nearly collapsed in the room. The unmade bed and silence in the air mocked her premature sense of safety. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and her throat constricted in disappointment as she surveyed the empty room. She could feel Sabretooth's presence all around her, and suddenly she was very very afraid. She couldn't run from it anymore.
"He's still inside me," she whispered.
A cloud of smoke hung over the noisy crowd in the bar as Wolverine downed another beer. The sound of the empty bottle hitting the bartop started the sequence of events that led to the bartender setting another one down in front of him. This had been going on for hours with Wolverine trying to stay one step ahead of his healing factor. His eyes shifted to survey the room once again, part of him looking for something he knew wasn't there.
"Damn," he sighed to himself. He turned back to his fresh beer and took a swallow. "Should be enjoyin' myself, playin' some pool. Not sittin' here worryin' about some woman." His mind replayed the anger and hurt he'd seen in Rogue's eyes in his room and he shoved the memory back down. "Stupid. Shoulda kept my mouth shut." He snorted. "Hell, should never have gotten involved in the first place. Pokin' my nose around where it don't belong, no wonder I got myself in so much trouble."
The people around Wolverine heard him talking to himself, but paid him no mind. He didn't look like the type of crazy person they wanted to mess with. Wolverine's head lowered slightly as the alcohol buzzed through his system.
"She don't need me anyway. Sabretooth ain't gonna bother her no more, an Xavier's a professional. Let him handle her." He nodded unsteadily. "S'right. I'm just gonna leave. First thing tomorrow."
"Hey," came a feminine voice from beside him.
Wolverine tore his concentration away from his beer and gave a sidelong glance beside him. A woman was smiling at him. She was an attractive brunette, with a suggestive outfit and an even more suggestive smile. Wolverine considered her for several seconds before turning his body to face her.
"You're not her," he mumbled. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but his healing factor was working to fix it. If he stopped drinking now, he'd be sober soon.
The brunette's smile didn't waver. "No, I'm not, but I'm here." She stepped closer to Wolverine and her perfume wafted up to his nose. It tickled slightly, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant.
"So you are," he agreed.
The woman put her hand on his thigh. "So, I'm here. And you're here . . ."
Wolverine grinned drunkenly. "Nothing wrong with your logic so far."
Her hand began to move towards his crotch. Now Wolverine could smell the alcohol on her. She must be a hard drinker to seem so steady after obviously having quite a few.
"Why don't you come back to my place?" she suggested. "I guarantee you a time you won't forget."
Wolverine's gaze was drawn to her mouth. Her lipstick was a little too dark, and it stood out starkly against her pale complexion. She smiled seductively and drew her tongue along her lip. Wolverine jerked suddenly as if he'd been slapped. Suddenly, he was looking down at Rogue as her mouth—
"Shit," Wolverine swore vehemently. He pushed the woman away and got off his barstool. Leaving his beer and the woman, he ignored her indignant cries as he left the bar.
"You're haunting me," he growled to an imaginary Rogue. Stalking over to his bike, he swung himself onto it. Slightly unsteady, he sped back towards the mansion.
"Okay girl, you can do this," Rogue murmured to herself. She dried herself off as best she could and then wrapped the bath towel around her body. She'd taken a hot shower in Wolverine's bathroom while she waited for him and now she was standing in front of the foggy mirror. After all the thinking she'd done in the shower she knew she had to face what had happened to her.
"He may be in mah head, but Ah'm still me," she said firmly as she wiped the fog off the mirror. Her hand shook as it slid across the slippery surface and Rogue took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She felt so silly. It was just a mirror. It was just her.
She let out her breath as her efforts revealed a small clear expanse of the polished surface. Steeling her nerves, Rogue looked into the mirror . . . and screamed as deep amber eyes with black feline slits in the centers stared back at her. In a dizzying display of images, her mind flashed back to the last time she had seen those eyes. Amber backgrounds with thin black centers stared at her from a sinister face and sharp elongated fangs. All the wind was knocked out of her as her voice grew hoarse and her screams died. Her legs buckled under her and she collapsed on the floor.
"What happened to me," she gasped, trying to draw in deep breaths. Suddenly an image of Sabretooth loomed up in her mind. As all the pieces of the puzzle abruptly came crashing down around Rogue, the enhanced senses she'd tried to ignore flared up. Rogue could detect Wolverine's scent under the smell of soap, faint as it was from his short time in the room. Gritting her teeth, she stood up and forced her gaze to her reflection in the mirror. Sabretooth's eyes stared back at her once again, but this time Rogue didn't flinch.
Suddenly Rogue's supper sensitive hearing picked up the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Clutching her towel to her body. She turned off the lights and, relying on her newfound cat-like vision, walked out of the bathroom and approached the door to Wolverine's room.
Wolverine's nose twitched as he approached the door to his room. The information tickled his mind, but the alcohol provided a layer of cotton it couldn't penetrate. Stumbling to the door, Wolverine jerked it open.
The next few seconds were a blur. Wolverine was startled to see a reflective pair of amber feline eyes watching him from the darkness of the room. The alcohol clouded his rational thought and his instincts took over. There was the hiss of metal and a sickening sound of flesh being torn open.
Wolverine's brain froze as he found himself staring at his claws embedded in Rogue's belly. Warm sticky blood oozed out of her body between his fingers. Moving slowly in a horrified stupor, his claws retracted. Blood gurgled slightly in Rogue's throat as her scream died.
Suddenly, Rogue cleared her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut as her healing factor closed her wounds. In seconds she was healed. Wolverine's jaw dropped as she turned a glare on him. Before he could open his mouth, her open palm shot out, connecting with his chest. She caught him by surprise and the force of the motion sent Wolverine flying across the hallway into the wall. As Wolverine sat there, stunned, the last traces of alcohol were obliterated from his system. He leveled an accusing glare at Rogue as he got to his feet. She'd turned on the light and a soft glow radiated around her.
"You HIT me!" he growled, stalking towards her.
Rogue stepped back to allow him entrance into the room, but continued glaring at him.
"You stabbed me," she shot back.
Wolverine stepped inside and slammed the door behind him.
"Well, what are you doing in my room anyway?" he demanded.
"Why the Hell weren't *you* in your room?" Rogue snapped.
Wolverine started to say he'd needed to get drunk, but stopped himself.
"How is that any of your business?" he roared, exasperated.
"Because you weren't here when Ah needed you!" Rogue screamed back.
A deafening silence fell over both of them. Wolverine stared at her dumbfounded as she dropped her gaze to the floor and fidgeted with her towel. All of a sudden she felt incredibly vulnerable. She didn't know where that last comment had come from, but she knew it was true. She may have been self-reliant when she was with the Brotherhood, but now she was used to having someone around. She was used to having Wolverine around. For the first time since she'd left the Brotherhood he hadn't been there when she looked for him and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She could only imagine what Wolverine was thinking. She closed her eyes. He was probably horrified. It was bad enough she'd moved in with him, now she was running to his room whenever she had a problem. How long before he decided he didn't need the hassle and just left? Miserably, Rogue wondered if it would happen before she found the strength to be independent again. When Wolverine finally spoke up Rogue felt her shoulders tense in anticipation.
"You need me?" he asked quietly.
Rogue opened her eyes, but continued to stare at the floor when she answered.
"Ah don't like it, Wolverine. Ah don't like not bein' able to handle this on mah own, havin' to ask for help." She took a deep breath. "It's not right, and it's not how Ah was raised."
Wolverine felt his chest constrict and had to fight the urge to move closer to her. She looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Wolverine knew this wasn't easy for her. He could relate. He wasn't really a heart-to-heart talker either. For a while he just stood there mulling everything over. Then he had an idea.
"Mystique asked for help when she needed it," he pointed out.
Rogue quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him.
"Mama never thought she needed help," she corrected him.
"Then why did she hire me? Why didn't she just do the job herself?" Wolverine countered.
"She could have," Rogue insisted. "But that would've taken months to gather the information we would've needed. Plus, extra surveillance. You had experience that would make it more efficient. Mama hired you to save time."
"So why is it different if you ask me for help? It's not that you're saying you can't do it yourself—you're just being practical."
Rogue narrowed her eyes and thought it over.
"Would you ever ask for mah help?" she challenged him.
Wolverine shrugged honestly.
"If you would have asked me a month ago if I would have danced at a bar with a woman I was hired to work with, I'd have called you insane. Lately, it's anybody's guess what I'll do where you're concerned," he sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
Rogue smiled in pleasant surprise.
"That's really sweet, Wolvie."
"And *God* knows you would never have gotten away with calling me that a month ago," Wolverine muttered.
Rogue laughed.
"All right, so you've given me something to think about," she conceded.
Wolverine nodded, relieved at the subject change. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for a precarious situation aptly handled.
"So where were you tonight?" Rogue asked, her nose twitching slightly.
Wolverine shrugged. It was nice while it lasted.
"Out."
Rogue's nose twitched again.
"That's a lovely fragrance you're wearing."
Wolverine felt his heart beat a little faster, then swore as he realized she could probably hear it. He missed the days when he was the only one with enhanced senses.
"I didn't – I don't – shouldn't you be going to sleep now?" he sputtered.
Rogue considered telling him she knew he hadn't had sex because the woman's perfume was all she could smell, but she let it go. He was cute when he squirmed.
"Ah can't go to sleep yet. Ah have to ask the Professor to lock me up first."
"What?" Wolverine asked, dumbfounded.
Rogue sighed.
"You're right, Logan. Ah can be stubborn and try to deal with everything on mah own, or Ah can ask for help. It's about time Ah let the Professor help me deal with what happened. She took a deep breath. "Hell, maybe Ah waited too long already. Ah think Sabretooth took over and attacked Storm tonight when Ah fell asleep."
"You think?" Wolverine asked, dubiously. Hs mind raced to catch up with all of this new information.
"Ah remember it like a dream, just hazy bits and pieces. Enough to know Ah should be locked up when Ah'm sleeping."
Wolverine didn't like the idea of Rogue being locked up for any reason. He had a personal aversion to imprisonment and the fact that it was voluntary didn't make him feel any better. Still, he could see how hard she was trying to keep the fear out of her voice.
"Why don't you just sleep with me?" When the words hit his ears he realized how suggestive they sounded, but he plunged on. "If anything happens I'll be here for you."
Rogue thought about it. Her eyes looked from Wolverine to the floor and Wolverine wondered what she was thinking.
"What are you thinking?" he demanded.
"Ah'm thinking it's not fair. Ah'm finally at a point where Ah'm ready to relax and now you're asking me to sleep with you and Ah'm gonna have to rein in mah control all over again."
"You're afraid you'll attack me? Don't worry—"
"Ah'm not worried about attacking you. At least, not in an Ah'm-gonna-hurt-you way."
"What way— oh."
Understanding dawned on Wolverine's face and Rogue nodded.
"Yeah. Earlier when Ah was around you and mah senses flared up Ah had some . . . urges. However, since you've made it clear that Ah remind you of Sabretooth . . ."
Wolverine mentally kicked himself.
"Hey, I didn't mean it like it sounded. I just wasn't sure you knew what you were doing."
Rogue leveled her gaze at him and Wolverine decided death was his only way out.
"You're right, Logan. Ah don't know what Ah'm doing. How kind of you not to take advantage of me. From now on, I'll just pretend you're mah brother." She paused for a moment. "No, wait. Mah brother is blue. You'll be like a father to me."
She turned around and walked over to his dresser. Wolverine watched her warily, but didn't trust himself to speak. She pulled out one of his larger flannels and laid it on top of the dresser. A sense of deja vu came over Wolverine as he watched her drop her towel before slipping on the flannel. That brief glimpse of naked naughty bits made his blood rush south, and Wolverine hoped she hadn't gotten so used to her senses that she knew how his body was reacting.
Flouncing over to the bed, she slipped under the covers and yawned.
"You'll turn the light out before you come to bed won't you, Logan?"
Wolverine narrowed his eyes. Two could play at this game. He went into the bathroom and washed Rogue's blood off his hands. Then, turning off the lights, he walked over to the bed and stripped. He generally slept naked, he told himself, so he wasn't really doing anything wrong. Besides, he was beginning to suspect Rogue was being a tease on purpose and that meant she was fair game. He slid into the bed beside Rogue, but instead of the surprised reaction he'd expected he heard her speak.
"Wolverine?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Ah'm still me, right?"
Her voice sounded tiny in the darkness of the room and Wolverine frowned as he rolled over to face her. She was lying on the other side of the bed, her small form huddled under the blanket. Large eyes stared at him out of a face rendered pale in the moonlight. The strange new appearance of her eyes did nothing to take away from the vulnerability he was seeing now.
"Of course you're still you," he assured her gently. "Who the hell else would you be?"
Rogue's gaze remained locked on him as she wrapped her hands in the comforter and brought it up to hid e the lower half of her face. When she spoke her voice was slightly muffled.
"Why didn't anyone tell me about mah eyes?"
Wolverine winced. It had never occurred to him to talk about her eyes. It seemed like such a strange topic of conversation. He'd taken it for granted that Rogue would have noticed them in some random reflective surface.
"Sorry," he said finally. "I guess I wasn't thinking."
Rogue didn't say anything for a minute. Her eyes remained wide open, watching him, even as they began to shine with unshed tears. Sighing, Wolverine tugged a sheet up between them and then reached over to her, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair, taking in the fresh scent of shampoo.
"I know you're still you, Rogue," he said quietly. "You still smell like you and my nose doesn't lie."
She smiled against his chest.
"Thanks, Logan," she said softly. After a moment she added, "I like it when you do this."
"Do what?" he asked curiously.
"Hold me. You haven't held me since Mama shot me."
Wolverine's hold tightened slightly.
"That's not true," he said quietly. He remembered finding her in the woods, naked and shivering, not from cold but from fright. He'd carried her back to the cabin and he'd held her that night. He'd been terrified and he wondered now if he'd held her to comfort her or himself.
"You saved me, Logan. How many times am Ah gonna have an opportunity to say that?" she sighed.
"I didn't save your life. You would have made it."
"Ah didn't say you saved mah life. You saved me. Who knows how long Ah would have stayed inside mahself if you hadn't coaxed me out." She snuggled back against him and he smiled slightly. He squeezed her gently, comfortingly. For several long minutes, they were both silent. Wolverine closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep.
"Wolverine?" Rogue asked suddenly.
"Yeah?" Wolverine mumbled sleepily.
"Why me?"
Wolverine opened his eyes, feeling more awake. "What do you mean?" he asked softly.
Rogue turned over and pushed herself up on one elbow. Her eyebrows were furrowed together as she turned something over in her mind. "Why did you take an interest in me?"
Wolverine frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Ah was just another partner when you met me." She raised an eyebrow. "And Ah know Ah'm just another woman. What are you doing here?"
Wolverine rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know, Rogue." He took a deep breath. "I knew what you were doing wrong and I pointed it out. You were pushing yourself too much, it was going to start affecting your performance," he said simply.
"So what do you care?" Rogue persisted. "Why did it matter to you what mah future performance was? You were only supposed to work with me once."
"Once is all it takes. Besides, you had the potential to be good," Wolverine insisted.
"As good as you?" she teased.
Wolverine chuckled.
"I'm the best there is at what I do," he murmured. His eyes darkened as he looked at her. Rogue's nose twitched and a light blush dusted her cheeks.
"Ah'd like to test that theory someday," she said softly.
For a moment they stared at each other. Finally, Rogue smiled shyly and laid back down. Wolverine hesitated slightly before lying down behind her and putting his arm back over her waist. Soon he could feel her breathing begin to even out as she fell asleep.
"We'll test that theory. Count on it," he said quietly.
He didn't sleep for a long time.
Professor Xavier waited with a composed face as the X-Men settled in around the table in the War Room. Storm sat quietly at his side, her regal countenance serene and alert. Cyclops and Jean were just coming in.
Xavier sighed. It didn't take the world's most powerful telepath to pick up on the tension radiating from the mansion's foremost couple. And it didn't take a genius to notice that things had been tense around the school since Rogue and Wolverine had arrived. Charles Xavier mentally shook his head. He had let things progress like this for far too long. It was time to set some things straight.
"You all know why I called this meeting," he began as they all sat down. There were nods all around the table. "Now you all know that I abhor breaking a confidence. I like to consider myself a mentor and a friend to anyone who puts their trust in me and my dream. I consider it of vital importance that I earn that trust." He took a deep breath. "However, recent events have made me realize that I must put the safety of all of you and all of my students first. And so I have decided that there are certain things about our guests that you all need to know." He looked around the room. "I am going to try to explain things as best I can without betraying anymore than necessary."
"The reason Rogue is here is because she was attacked by a mutant called Sabretooth. During the course of the attack, Rogue's powers of absorption flared up and she absorbed Sabretooth's powers, strength, and memories." There were murmurs around the room. "It is my belief that the trauma of the attack affected Rogue's powers so that this transfer may be permanent. However, without examining Sabretooth I cannot be positive."
He turned to Jean. "Jean, I believe that the reason Rogue is now able to control her powers is due, in part, to the enhanced senses that she absorbed from Sabretooth. If she had any level of control, the physical awareness she has now may have helped her to master them completely."
"Whether she has control or not, Professor, Rogue doesn't seem to have the discipline she needs," Jean pointed out. "I'm not comfortable around her."
Xavier looked sad. "Unfortunately, Jean, I believe your concerns may not be entirely unfounded. There was an incident last night concerning Rogue in Storm's attic loft." Jean and Scott straightened up in their seats. Storm remained calm.
"I do not believe she meant me any harm," Storm said firmly. "She seemed disoriented and confused."
"I'm afraid she may have had good reason to be," Xavier said slowly. "If Rogue did indeed permanently absorb Sabretooth, it may be possible that his psyche is able to take control of her body when Rogue is not actively maintaining control."
"Professor, correct me if I'm wrong, but are you saying that Rogue now has what amounts to a split personality?" Cyclops asked.
"No, Scott. Rogue is still the dominant psyche in her body. Sabretooth's mind is merely a sort of co-pilot. What I am saying is that it is possible that when Rogue is asleep or unconscious, Sabretooth's persona may be able to take control of her body. Again, this is all mere speculation," he added quickly. "I will not know anything for certain until Rogue agrees to speak with me."
Cyclops cleared his throat.
"I would like to say right now that I think Rogue is obligated to help explain all of this," he began. "We have too many young mutants here, as well as ourselves, to consider the safety of. We can't allow Rogue to roam around the grounds like a ticking time bomb." He turned to the professor. "From what you've told us, it seems like Rogue herself doesn't know exactly what's happened to her so we can't possibly expect her to maintain the level of control she needs to avoid harming another person."
"I agree with Scott," Jean spoke up. "And I think we all need to remember, as unpleasant as it may be, that Rogue is for all we know still a member of the Brotherhood. Even if she has left that team, she may still be susceptible to their influence."
"What about Wolverine?" Cyclops added. "He's not exactly a boy scout either." Jean frowned at her husband. It was clear that she hadn't considered Wolverine a threat, as she did Rogue.
"I believe that Rogue and Wolverine are here because they desire our help," Storm said clearly. "I have spoken with Rogue and Wolverine on separate occasions and I do not believe they mean us any harm. Rogue is simply a headstrong young woman, not a surprising fact considering who raised her." There were nods around the table. Each of the X-Men had run into Mystique any number of times and were familiar with her no-nonsense approach to each task she undertook in the name of mutantkind. "As for Wolverine, I believe he is protective of Rogue, and has no other concern with us besides getting Rogue the help she needs."
Professor Xavier had listened intently to his students as they spoke their minds. Now he cleared his throat, and waited for their attention before he explained his decision.
"I understand your concerns, all of them. It is my decision that Rogue and Wolverine shall remain here as long as they are in need of our help." Jean opened her mouth to say something, but Xavier held up his hand. "Under the stipulation that Rogue will speak with me about her state of mind, as it concerns the safety of those at this institute."
As the Professor left, the other X-Men looked around at one another. Everyone knew the next couple of days would be interesting and they all wondered how the strangers in their home would react to the Professor's involvement in their lives.
Wolverine squinted one eye as the sunlight shone through the window and into his face. He was about to growl at the intrusion when he became aware of the warmth pressed against his body. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Rogue lying there still asleep. She had turned over in her sleep and was lying on her back. Wolverine's arm was still protectively draped across her body with his hand on her side.
Wolverine watched in amusement as her nose twitched in her sleep. Her eyebrows knitted together and her head turned slightly as her enhanced sense of smell picked up something. He grinned. There were still times when his enhanced senses woke him up. People didn't realize how much easier it was for things to wake him up. To Wolverine the smell of fresh coffee brewing in the morning was like someone hitting him over the head with a bag of Colombian Roast. He lifted his head slightly, wondering what it was that was teasing Rogue's olfactory senses. Wolverine sniffed lightly. There wasn't really much in the air of interest. The room had obviously been cleaned thoroughly before Wolverine's occupancy so the only underlying scent was carpet cleaner. Maybe it was Wolverine himself that Rogue was sniffing out. As he watched her, Rogue's brow smoothed out and she sighed, turning over on her side to face Wolverine. The sheet moved with her and Wolverine watched with interest as her backside was bared.
It struck Wolverine as odd that he'd seen as much of Rogue's bare flesh as he had and yet to this day they hadn't shared so much as a kiss. At least in the sexual sense. Leaning over he let his eyes roam over the line of Rogue's thigh and hip. The sheet was hardly covering the back half of her at all, showing a long expanse of smooth pale skin. Wolverine looked down between their bodies. The sheet gaped just enough to expose the velvet curve of one breast. An image of Rogue, naked and bloody in the snow, flashed into Wolverine's mind. He remembered the blood on her breast, the spot he knew Sabretooth had sank his fangs into. The beast in Wolverine howled for him to lower his mouth to that spot. To erase all claim Sabretooth had on Rogue with his own carnal kiss. Wolverine's stifled a groan as all of his blood begin to flow south. Rogue's nose twitched again.
He swallowed hard as Rogue leaned in, bringing her face a hair's breadth away from his chest. Wolverine cursed hormones as he realized Rogue could smell his arousal. He held perfectly still as her breath tickled his skin. As her head tilted downwards, Wolverine closed his eyes. He felt her head brush against his chest and heard a soft sigh. Opening his eyes he saw Rogue's eyelashes flutter as she woke up. Part of him was relieved, but certain other parts screamed out in protest.
"Wolverine?" Rogue murmured sleepily. She looked up and smiled at him before snuggling back against his chest. "You're warm," she sighed.
Wolverine's arm was still in place around her waist and he squeezed her lightly.
"Glad to be of service," he joked lightly.
Rogue laughed and lifted her head. Her amber eyes were soft with the last traces of sleep and they sparkled when she laughed. Wolverine found himself leaning a little closer as he felt drawn to those eyes. He was vaguely aware of Rogue's breathing becoming a little quicker as she watched him drawing closer. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as their lips met.
At first Wolverine tentatively brushed his lips over hers. Rogue seemed frozen at the unfamiliar tenderness of the contact, but she soon relaxed under his ministrations. Sighing, Rogue parted her lips and Wolverine accepted the invitation to deepen the kiss. He could smell her arousal growing and as Rogue began to arch into his touch he pulled his head back. Before Rogue could moan her objection, Wolverine's head swooped down again. This time the kiss was demanding, his mouth plying hers as his tongue delved in to caress her own. A soft purr rumbled in Rogue's throat and Wolverine growled in response, his hand sliding over her thigh and up her hip. Rogue gasped and Wolverine pressed her down into the bed. His pulse raced as he felt Rogue's heart beating hard against his chest.
By the time they parted, the were both breathing hard. Wolverine's hand still rested on Rogue's exposed hip and his gaze bored into hers. Rogue's eyes were glassy as she stared up at him. For an endless moment neither of them said anything.
"That was nice," Rogue said breathlessly. Her heart was still racing.
Wolverine grinned, his chest heaving as he regained his composure.
"I'm the best there is at what I do."
Rogue felt her body tighten at that thought.
"And what is it you want to do?" she asked steadily.
Wolverine's face suddenly got serious. His eyes darkened with hunger as he let his gaze brazenly run over her body.
"More," he whispered.
In a burst of self-control, Rogue slid out from his grip. Wolverine watched her in amusement as she hopped off the bed and stood in the center of the room.
"Ah know you didn't think Ah was gonna give it all up to you in one morning," she teased.
Wolverine quirked an eyebrow. Keeping his eyes locked on Rogue, he slowly lifted his body from the bed into a crouching position. Rogue felt her pulse speed up as she watched a wild light spark in his eyes.
"Well, Ah think Ah'll just go back to mah room and get dressed. Gotta go talk to Xavier and all," she rambled, grabbing her towel from the night before.
Wolverine kept his gaze on her as she backed away towards the door. Part of him itched to block her retreat. His blood was still pounding through his veins and he could easily give in to the impulse. Still, something held him back. She was right about doing everything in one morning. When they did go all the way, he wanted it to be a mutually made decision. It was important to him that she didn't think she was just another conquest. They'd had their first kiss this morning, that would tide him over. And so Wolverine watched her edge out of the room, closing the door behind her. As it clicked shut Wolverine smiled. He was willing to wait . . . how long was still a matter for consideration.
Jean was disturbed as she walked down the hallway in the basement of the X-Mansion towards the Med Lab. She had told Cyclops that she needed to finish some bloodwork for some of the students, but that hadn't been true. She'd been caught up in her work ever since that night at the army base where they had first run into Rogue and Wolverine. Ever since she'd needed her work to be a distraction for thoughts she shouldn't be having.
As the Med Lab's door swished shut behind her, Jean walked over to a cupboard and pulled on a pair of gloves. She needed to think and cleaning the lab always kept her hands busy enough for her mind to focus. As she lifted a disinfectant and began to scrub down the various metal surfaces, Jean let her mind wander to thoughts of the strangers living in the X-Mansion. More specifically, to Wolverine.
A pang of guilt stabbed at Jean as images of the masculine Canadian flooded her mind. Ever since she had first seen him in their first fight, she had been attracted to him. Then again, she consoled herself, what woman wouldn't be? The man was sex personified with his primal nature and toned body. He was a man who needed to be tougher, stronger, and smarter than his enemies to survive and Wolverine had survived for a long time. A very long time, Jean reminded herself.
Maybe that was part of the reason Jean felt herself having these adulterous thoughts about Wolverine while she was married to Cyclops. After all, she was a thirty-four year old woman and Scott was a twenty-seven year old man. A lot of people looked at them strangely, even among their own kind, because of the large age difference. Sometimes Jean didn't feel as feminine as she should around her young husband. The time seasoned Wolverine with his age-defying body drew Jean like a moth to a flame. His animalistic demeanor also helped her to forget that her biological clock was ticking away.
Jean squeezed her eyes shut and slumped into a chair. She hated herself for feeling like this. Cyclops was such a loving man, she couldn't ask for a more devoted husband. He was just so organized, so ordered. Jean knew Cyclops couldn't afford to let loose, not with the devastating effects his powers would have. But that didn't help her to resist the attraction she felt towards the wild man that fought with the razor sharp claws. The one that hung around Rogue like an alpha wolf protecting his own.
Rogue. Jean felt an irrational rush of jealousy and dislike for the younger woman. At first, Jean had felt some superiority over the other woman because Rogue was younger. She was on the wrong side of Xavier's dream, and Jean felt she was the one fighting the good fight. Rogue was a bad guy and Jean fought on the side of the angels. Not to mention, she had been unable to touch. Rogue's powers, as well as her controlling mother, had made her an unlikely candidate for the sexual attentions of any man, let alone the bestial Wolverine. Now Rogue not only had a carbon copy of Wolverine's own enhanced senses, those heightened senses allowed her full control over her mutant absorption powers.
A voice in Jean's head reminded her that Rogue wasn't the real problem. Wolverine hadn't shown much of an interest in anyone since he'd arrived with Rogue at the mansion. He'd been to worried about Rogue's survival to think about anything else. Jean frowned. Any woman would kill to have a man pay that kind of attention to her. To treat her like she was the finest crystal, the most precious gem. Still, Rogue was out of the woods now. And with all the time she would be spending with Xavier, Jean would have the perfect opportunity to talk to Wolverine.
Not that she had any intention of cheating on Cyclops, Jean told herself firmly. She simply thought that Wolverine would make a valuable addition to the X-Men, and she wanted to convince him to stay.
Assured that she was not a lecherous spouse, Jean smiled to herself as she put away her cleaning supplies and left the Med Lab. She had to talk to Cyclops about recruitment.
Cyclops frowned as he stared down at his desk. He had just finished talking to Jubilation Lee and he felt exhausted as usual. Jubilee had always been a wild one, in a hurry to earn more privileges, rushing to grow up. Not to mention the mansion's foremost practical joker. Ever since she had joined them on that mission to stop Rogue and Wolverine she had been on him to let her join the team officially. Cyclops sighed. Why couldn't she just enjoy her youth?
Then again, why couldn't he just enjoy his? Hadn't he been just as guilty as Jubilee? When he had arrived at the mansion and first laid eyes on Jean, it hadn't mattered to him that she was seven years older than him. It hadn't mattered that he was still a youth and she had already matured. It had seemed perfect at the time, and he had thanked all he held holy when she had returned his affection. He had worked hard to turn himself into a man deserving of the leader's role on the X-Men. He had trained and worked and pushed himself until all of his boyish dreams were gone and all that remained was the drive of a warrior leading his people into battle. He'd thought that would make him more appealing to her.
The memory of catching her in Wolverine's room came back to Scott's wandering mind. It had been easier for him to blame Wolverine for everything, to warn him to stay away from his girl, but deep down Cyclops knew it hadn't been Wolverine's fault. He remembered the look of anticipation and concentration on Jean's face as she reached her hands out to Wolverine's unsuspecting temples, like a child reaching for a strange and shiny new toy. She'd looked as if she believed she would find in Wolverine everything she was looking for.
It had been a long time since she'd looked at him like that. Sighing, Cyclops stood up. Regardless of his initial motives, he couldn't undo the man he had made himself into. It was all he had left.
Jean smiled softly at Scott as she ran into him in the hallway. She'd just come up from the Lab and he'd just exited an office.
"Scott," she said to get his attention.
Cyclops turned and waited for her to reach his side. Jean could tell he was a little distracted and she stifled a sigh. Why couldn't he just relax?
On an impulse, Jean slid her arms around Cyclops neck. Surprised, his arms automatically raised to put his hands on her hips to steady them. The kiss was soft and gentle as Jean tried to calm her restless husband.
"Mmm, what was that for?" Scott asked with a small smile. He pressed his forehead to his wife's and gently brushed his fingers across her cheek.
Jean smiled back.
"Oh, just for being a wonderful husband." Jean played with a stray lock of his hair. "You seem distracted, Scott."
Scott sighed. He felt almost silly that a few minutes ago he was worried about Jean's devotion to him. Knowing that he could not simply dismiss her concerns, he rummaged around his mind for a plausible explanation.
"Jubilee was talking about joining the team again," he said finally. "I just think she's too young."
"I agree, Scott," Jean soothed him. "Jubilee knows she's too young right now, she's just testing her boundaries. You shouldn't let it get to you."
"I know," Cyclops said, getting into it. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to have another member on the team. I'd like to be able to keep more X-Men here for defense purposes when part of the team goes on a mission."
As he said the words, an idea sprang into Jean's mind. Before she could think it through, she blurted out her inspiration.
"Why not enlist Wolverine?"
Cyclops looked at her like she'd grown a third head, and stepped out of their embrace.
"Jean, Wolverine's experience comes from the illegal acts he's been committing for God knows how long."
"Scott, that's in the past," Jean argued. "Isn't Xavier always teaching us to look at people for their potential without holding their pasts against them?"
"What about all that stuff you said about Rogue this morning?" Scott said incredulously. "Weren't you the one who said we shouldn't forget that it was Mystique that raised her? That she couldn't be trusted?"
"Scott, Rogue has a mutant's psyche in her head that's hardly any better than a savage beast!" Jean objected indignantly.
"And *Wolverine* is so civilized?" Scott fired back.
Jean opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. There was an amazing similarity between Sabretooth and Wolverine, she wouldn't get anywhere arguing that there wasn't. She took a deep breath and tried to sound logical.
"Scott, you said so yourself, we could use more members. Now I think that Wolverine could be a valuable part of the X-Men if we just gave him a chance."
"Fine," Scott said tightly. "maybe you should go talk to him."
Jean felt her face flush and cursed herself for it. She did not want to feel guilty about this and a part of her clung desperately to the belief that she was just being logical in wanting Wolverine on the team.
"I will then," she said lightly.
As he watched his wife walk away from him, a sense of purpose came over Cyclops. Two could play at this game.
"Rogue, how would you like to begin?"
Rogue took a deep breath and met Xavier's gaze. His kind blue eyes had no trouble meeting her own feline orbs and he didn't seem uncomfortable in her presence in the least.
"Honestly, Professor, Ah'm here because Ah realized it's time for me to admit Ah don't know how to deal with this. Ah can plan a raid, Ah can train an operative, and Ah can keep the memories of a total stranger cleanly filed and stored in mah mind, but Ah don't know how to deal with having a sentient psyche in mah mind fighting me for control." Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. "And Ah'm not sure Ah can deal with being . . . raped." Her voice cracked on the last word.
Xavier listened to her in a compassionate silence. Rogue could feel him giving off a calming aura and knew he was using his telepathy to help her remain calm. She didn't say anything though. Finally, Xavier nodded.
"You don't need me to tell you that you are a very brave and very strong woman, Rogue. I have every confidence that you can overcome any obstacle you put your mind to," Xavier assured her seriously. "Look at the way you mastered your powers," he added.
"Aw heck, if it weren't for Wolverine, Ah don't think Ah'd ever have mastered them," Rogue said dismissively.
"Why is that?" Xavier asked conversationally.
"Well," Rogue started, warming to her topic. "He's the one that told me all Ah had to do was practice. He made it sound so simple. Just touch people and try to stop the transfer. Then one night, Ah was practicing in Banff and Ah did it."
"You were able to touch someone without opening the transfer?" Xavier asked.
Rogue shook her head. "No, but Ah was able to stop it after it started."
Xavier paused for a minute before continuing.
"Jean seemed to be under the impression that you were now able to keep your powers from activating at all," he said carefully.
Rogue quirked an eyebrow.
"You can be blunt you know. Jean told you I tapped her."
"She seemed to feel it was meant to be a threatening gesture," Xavier responded easily.
"Ah didn't mean any harm," Rogue insisted.
"I do not believe you did," Xavier assured her. "I am simply curious as to how you knew your powers would not be a problem if you touched her."
That made Rogue stop and think. She hadn't really thought about how her control had become complete.
"Ah'm not sure. It's like . . . it's like Ah could just feel it. Ah could feel everything, hear everything, smell everything. Every detail became crystal clear. Ah could feel mah blood, mah pulse, it just seemed natural that Ah could feel mah powers more clearly too."
"When did you notice your senses were heightened?" Xavier probed.
Rogue furrowed her eyebrows.
"Ah guess as soon as Ah woke up. It all seemed to flow into me, it didn't seem strange and Ah didn't even notice anything was different."
Xavier was nodding.
"Sabretooth's psyche and memories must be integrated enough into yours to make the transfer seamless."
Rogue swallowed hard, but tried not to look upset.
"That can't be, Professor. Ah've always been able to keep other's minds and memories filed away, separate from mahself."
"Rogue," the Professor said gently. "Have you looked at any of Sabretooth's memories?"
Rogue shook her head. Her body was trembling slightly.
"You've been repressing them," Xavier stated.
"Ah've always filed them away before, they never got out," she agreed shakily.
Xavier kept his face and voice calm.
"Rogue, there is a difference between consciously filing a memory away and repressing it. When you refused to acknowledge or deal with Sabretooth's memories it was like putting a lid on a bottle of soda and shaking it up." He took a deep breath. "It was going to come out sooner or later," he said gently. Rogue ducked her head and Xavier was hit by a wave of fear rolling off of her. "Rogue," he said softly trying to compose himself. "I think we've done enough today. I want you to know that I am available to talk to you at any time, as are the other members of the X-Men."
Rogue nodded mechanically and stood up. She felt raw, but she was determined to see this through. What the Professor had said made sense. As she moved to close the door behind her, she heard the Professor's voice.
"You will overcome this, Rogue. All of it."
Rogue smiled, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears, and closed the door.
"Hi, Rogue."
Rogue jumped slightly. Cyclops was standing a few feet away from her, smiling shyly. Rogue quickly wiped her eyes and focused on Cyclops. He smelled nervous.
"Hi," she said slowly. "Can Ah help you?"
Cyclops raised an eyebrow and if Rogue didn't know any better she'd swear he was looking her over. His visor hid his eyes, but his head tilted slightly as if to look at her body.
"Maybe," he said simply.
Rogue's jaw dropped.
"Are you trying to *seduce* me?" she asked in amusement.
Cyclops flushed, but to his credit, he didn't back down.
"Actually, I want to offer you a place on the team."
"You want me to be an X-Woman?" Rogue asked suspiciously.
"Yes."
Rogue shrugged in confusion.
"Actually, Ah was just on mah way to see Wolverine. I'll think about your . . . offer."
She winked at him and suppressed a laugh when the blush spread out to his ears. She turned away and went to find Wolverine.
Wolverine sipped his beer as he watched the two hockey teams duke it out on the television. Hockey was just about the closest thing he could get to Canada right now. Well, hockey or Due South. Wolverine grinned. Due South was just one of the few television series that beckoned to him. He loved Kowalski's tough attitude and Fraser's quirky skills. Still, there was something off about the relationship between that Mountie and that cop . . .
Wolverine's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone walking towards the Rec Room. Sniffing the air, he turned just in time to see Jean enter the room. He quirked an eyebrow as she smiled demurely and sat down on the couch with him. He could tell by the set of her shoulders that she had something to say. Some male instinct deep within him told Wolverine if Rogue came back from talking with Xavier to find him talking to Jean, after the kiss they'd shared this morning, he would die a slow and horrible death. Wisely, he turned back to the television.
"How's the hockey game going?" Jean asked casually, oblivious to his indifference.
"Fine," he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Jean bit her lip. He wasn't going to make this easy and, sexy or not, she didn't want to make a fool out of herself for him. There was only one subject she knew of that would get his attention.
"Xavier is one of the most understanding and gifted telepaths in the world. I'm sure he'll be able to help Rogue."
Wolverine's head snapped around to look at her.
"That would be why I'm here."
Jean smiled.
"Actually, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." She slid down onto the couch beside him. "I see how you help Rogue. You know, if you joined the X-Men, you could help others too."
Wolverine snorted and turned back to the television.
"I'm not interested in joining your cult."
Jean frowned. This was not going the way she had planned. Unfortunately, before she could say anything, Rogue entered the room.
"Hey, Wolverine, you're not gonna believe this but Ah think Cy-" She stopped when she saw Jean and her eyes widened. For a split second, Rogue had a thought that the better part of her told her should be unexpressed. She ignored it.
"It's a tag team!"she exclaimed.
Wolverine raised his eyebrows at her outburst. Jean looked confused. Rogue's eyes moved to Jean. The older woman fought the urge to squirm as Rogue's eyes roamed over her. The assessment could not have been more obvoius. They were two women trying to measure the amount of threat the other posed. For a moment, Rogue just stood there. After a few moments, her body relaxed and she waved a hand towards Wolverine.
"Ah'm hungry, let's go get something to eat."
Wolverine grinned as Rogue grabbed his arm and dragged him out of
the Rec Room into the hallway. They both noticed as Jean tried not
to look after them and turned back to the television.
"So," Rogue said, exhaling after Jean was gone. "Did she ask you to join the team?"
Wolverine nodded. "Yeah. Why?"
"Cyclops was asking me to join too." She rolled her eyes. "Ah think he was trying to seduce me."
"Really," Wolverine said feigning interest. He looked back into the Rec Room. "Well, shit, give me a few minutes, maybe Jean wants to-" He was cut off when Rogue gave him a playful smack on the arm. He laughed.
"Ha ha," Rogue said dryly. Then her face got serious. "Wolverine, Ah don't wanna join the team, but Ah am gonna have to stay here for a while so Xavier can work with me."
Wolverine nodded, suddenly serious. "I know. How long you think it's gonna take?"
Rogue sighed and leaned back against the wall. Men were so goal oriented.
"Ah don't know." She laughed shortly. "Ah've never been in therapy before."
Wolverine looked down. "Yeah, I know."
For a few uncomfortable seconds neither of them said anything. Finally, Rogue took a deep breath.
"Wolverine, look," she said slowly. "If you wanna leave, it's okay. Ah mean, Ah know you kinda took me in cause Ah had no where to go after leavin' the Brotherhood, but Ah'll be all right here. Ah know you have things to do and if you don't wanna stay here Ah'll understand."
Wolverine quirked an eyebrow at her. She was staring down at the ground now and he could tell she was anxious about what he was going to say next. He sighed and stepped closer to her. She looked up in surprise as he put his hands on her arms and forced her to look him in the eye.
"Hey," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. Believe me, I know what it's like to be alone with these people and I wouldn't do that to you." Rogue smiled a little and Wolverine could tell there was something else on her mind. And he had a pretty good idea what.
"Besides," he said casually. "I still have things to teach you."
Rogue looked at him, amused confusion in her amber eyes. "And what's that?"
A wicked glint sparkled in Wolverine's eyes and, in answer, he pulled her to him in a searing kiss that brought that morning rushing back into Rogue's mind. She melted into the kiss as Wolverine's mouth plied hers into willing submission, her arms rising to drape around his neck. His hands drifted down from her arms to rest lightly on her hips. When they finally parted, his eyes were dark with pleasure and Rogue's heart pounded in her chest. It took her a moment to get her breath back enough to speak.
"Well," she whispered. "Looks like Ah'm goin' back to school."
The End
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
Alternate Universe. Elements of comics, cartoon, and movies. This story is the second part in the "Rogue Faction Trilogy." It takes place after "Stealing Rogue," when Wolverine and Rogue left New York. As this story begins they have been on the road for three days, on their way to where Wolverine lives in the city of Banff, in Alberta Canada.