The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Logan?
My heart is racing. Pounding so fast I can hear the blood rush through my ears. It feels like I’m suddenly freefalling and I don’t know how to stop.
For a moment I clutch at my cell, completely lost. I’m instantly drawn back into my memories. The sounds and jeers of a cage fight. That bitter musk of stale beer and sweat. The icy coldness of his trailer and the way every slippery bump we went over juddered right through me. You don’t know or you don’t care? Out of all the people in that bar, he was the one I was drawn too. I thought that he would be the one to understand me.
To this day I still don’t know why.
"You there?"
Even after all these months his voice still prickles the hairs on the back of my neck. I close my eyes. Take an unsteady breath.
"Marie?"
Oh.
I hate that he uses that name.
It jolts me out of my shock and flicks my barriers right back up. No one gets to use that name any more. A cold clarity seeps through me and gives me a moment to get control again. All the feelings that rushed at me at the sound of his voice, all the emotions, I push them away. Lock them tightly up.
You grew up, I remind myself. Moved on.
So prove it.
I slouch back down in my seat, cross one leg over the other, and when I speak, I’m all southern charm. Pure Rogue. Heh. I feel quite proud of myself really.
"Logan." I flick the hair out of my eyes and ignore the startled look Mystique gives me. She wasn’t expecting him either.
"Why the HELL did you leave?"
Oh he’s not happy. He’s not even bothering to hide it.
"Felt like a road trip," I slant back.
"Road trip?" I almost hear a growl. "You get your ass right back here NOW, y’hear me!"
I roll my eyes. Yeah I hear him. Even Mystique can hear him, he’s yelling so loud. "You sound like my father. No, wait, it’s worse than that. You sound like Scott."
Yeah, that gets him. I’m shooting way below the belt, but so what? He was the one that upped and left. Heh. Well the first time anyway. What did he expect? For me to wait around the mansion forever, eternally invisible? Always looking out of the window like some sort of lovesick teenager? Yeah, well as fun as that was, I’ve had my fill of unrequited love and being ditched for this lifetime.
"Look, come home." This time his voice is a little more forced, like he’s trying to rein it in. "It ain’t safe out there."
So now he’s trying to reason with me. Interesting.
"Logan, I would have thought you of all people would understand."
"Understand what?"
"The need to escape. A chance to get the hell out and live. I’m not coming home. I’m happy as I am."
"Marie," I hear the note of warning in his voice.
"Sorry, gotta go."
"Kid, listen. The Professor-"
But I don’t hear any more. I snap my cell shut and give it a cursory glance before tossing it out the window. "Bye-bye old life," I tell the passing blur of trees.
I ignore the twist in my stomach, telling myself that it’s not hurt I feel. Or regret.
Not really.
Then just to be on the safe side, I slip my emotions into that practiced shutdown anyway, until all that’s left of the fluttering excitement is a small pang of sadness. Which I stamp on. Hard.
Yeah, so what if I’m stubborn and cold hearted. Better than being miserable.
It’s a long journey, but we take it in turns to drive and we manage to keep going throughout the night. By the time the first hints of dawn are beginning to reach out in shreds across the whitewashed sky, we start noticing signs of civilisation again. It’s still so quiet though. There are hardly any other cars on the road, and the constant hum of the asphalt, the repetitive flash of the street lamps as they throb by, they begin to lull me into a comatose state of half sleep.
Which is not good, because I’m driving.
"Mystique?" She wriggles in her seat a bit, usually sleek red hair spilling all over her face. She pretends to still be asleep, but she radiates this alert tenseness and I know it’s a front. She’s never one to be caught off guard. "I know you’re awake. I can see you smirking."
"Figures." A yellow eye opens a crack. It’s almost feral, like a cat. "Are we there already?"
"No, but my eyes are bugging out. Mind if we stop for a while?"
A yawn and a casual wave of a blue scaled hand. "Whatever. Pick somewhere nice this time, okay?"
Sure. I can cope with that. Actually I kinda like the idea of staying somewhere a little more... upmarket. When I’m scouting out a hit, it usually pays to downplay – hence the skanky motels, despite our lavish budget. Still, one night of pampering and luxury... I sigh happily. It’ll be a hardship, but I’ll cope.
Decision made, I renew my efforts to keep my eyelids propped open. Ugh. It’s not easy. Maybe after this hit we should invest in a private jet. God knows we can afford it. The truck’s nice and all, but it’s certainly not the quickest way to get around.
By the time we reach the city, the roads pick up somewhat; early risers already heading for work. I watch them pass us by with a strange kind of tired blandness. While I don’t envy their nine till five lives, I do envy their night of sleep. I’m ready to crash and burn.
Hopefully not in the literal sense. Whole lotta mess that would be.
Yup.
God, I’m tired.
I know the hotel I want to stay in as soon as I’m dazzled by the lights of it. It’s this giant glass angled monstrosity, all style and no taste, as my momma would say. It mirrors itself in the giant fountains out front, and manages to look garish, lavish, and expensive all at the same time.
Perfect.
I pull over.
"You think they’ll have a couple of rooms?" I yawn as we haul out the last of our stuff and the valet pulls away in our shiny red truck. I know he’ll look after it. Mystique currently looks like Cindy Crawford and she flirted with him like hell.
"Maybe not for us," she says, sinking back from the view of their security cameras. She’s in the shade, but I can sense the change in her. When she steps back into the early daylight, the fresh morning sun rucking up under the slightly saggy skin of her jaw and her thin pressed lips, I see her plan. Her eyes blink at me through thick glasses. "But I’m sure they’d find room for Senator Kelly."
Did I mention how useful it is travelling with a shape shifter? Yeah. You get the picture.
She plays it up once we enter the foyer. I step back into her shadow, let her steal the scene, and she’s all smooth talk and business. The staff practically leap over themselves to find us adjoining rooms. "One for the Senator, one for his assistant," I hear them babble over the phone. "And be quick about it! Don’t want to keep the Senator waiting."
No, of course not.
Our baggage disappears in the elevator with the porter. We’ve yet to launder the hard cash and I wonder if the poor man in his snug burgundy waistcoat with its faux gold stitching realises how close he is to several million dollars.
Heh. Hopefully not.
Our suites are sprawled out across the top floor. Penthouse, I realise. Very nice. It’s amazing what flashing a little authority can do. I swipe my key card and as I close the door behind me, a slow smile spreads across my face. Tired or not, this is going to be fun.
A giant circular bed announces itself as the central feature, swathes of citrus colours bold and modern against a wash of tan. Anywhere else it would seem out of place, but here...? Oh wow...one whole side of the room is thick glass and the view is fantastic. An endless stretch of dawn, a rippling sea of distant city lights, blinking from far below.
I could get used to this.
First things first, I raid the mini bar. I don’t like to admit I still have some of Logan’s cravings, they come under the ‘if I don’t think about them, they’re not really there’ category, but it’s the whiskey I go for first, taking a handful of the mini bottles to accompany me in my giant, window view bath.
Ditching my clothes in a heap, I turn on the polished taps, enveloping the room in a sudden cloud of steam. I glance at myself in the mirror as the water flows, not wanting to be vain, but secretly quite pleased with the way my body’s been toned and honed to sleekness over the last few months. I know I’m looking good. Right now I feel like I could take over the world.
I stifle another yawn. Okay. Maybe not right now...
I don’t bother drawing the blinds as I sink in to the liquid warmth. If anyone has the lens power to watch me up here, high above the city, then they deserve the chance to perve. Besides, there’s something to be said about bathing with only a sheet of glass between you, a vast drop, and a huge expanse of city. It’s strangely liberating.
An hour later, and the sun has fully risen. Although it’s not yet eight a.m., I’m clean and warm and I’m munching my way through the complimentary chocolates, more than a little drunk.
So what? Like I said before. My life, my choice.
When the Senator pushes open our adjoining door, I grin and toss him a bottle. The bath has revived me somewhat and I wanna have some fun before I fall asleep.
...Not that sort of fun I hasten to add. I’m not that twisted.
The Senator just raises a greying eyebrow towards his hairline and manages to look haughty. He mimes a headline. "Mutant Found Dead in Hotel Room. Mini-Bar Suspected."
"Death by mini-bar? That’s the plan sugar. You in?"
The laugh that bubbles out of him is pure Mystique. For a moment the sound is really disturbing, until she prowls over, letting the vision of the Senator melt away into her rippling blue. Then she knocks back the drink in one go, sinking down on the bed beside me, simultaneously reaching for another bottle with her toes.
I envy her suppleness.
I suppose if anyone had told me a year ago that I would be lying side by side with Mystique, joking about our day, I would have laughed.
No, that’s not quite right, I didn’t laugh, not in those days. I would have probably gone rigid, bit out some sassy remark and slunk away to my room to work furiously on an assignment, wishing I had the courage to run away again.
But y’know what? We have a good thing going, an agreement, and it’s developed into friendship. It’s amazing what wars can do. They unite people. People like Mystique and me. Once enemies, we suddenly found ourselves on the same side, no longer part of the X-men, but not the Brotherhood either. Just us. And despite the initial trepidation I felt, it works.
Especially when we drink.
"So," I slur slightly. "Truth or dare?"
"Kid’s game."
I suppose she has a point. "Fair enough. You got any better ideas."
She swipes another drink. "Nope." Then she pauses for a moment. "Truth."
Hmmm. I have to think about this one for a while. I want it to be good. "Did you and Magneto ever... y’know...?"
"Have sex?" Her hand passes me another miniature bottle as she pretends to consider. "No."
"Oh."
"You’re surprised?" It’s not really a question. "I prefer my men more... feral."
Suddenly one of her memories comes flashing back; a man with long blonde hair. Something clicks into place. "Sabretooth?"
To my surprise she flinches slightly and I almost regret saying it. A year ago I would have thought her incapable of emotions like that, but now...? Now a flinch can be read a hundred different ways. She must have really cared for him. She rarely lets people in to see what she is feeling.
The moment doesn’t last long however. She rolls over, fingers curling around another drink that she gulps down, before licking her lips and flipping the focus of the game back onto me. "I don’t regret. Your turn. Truth or dare?"
I hesitate. "Truth?"
"You... and Wolverine..."
My pulse suddenly hammers through my ears.
"...what went on there?"
I take a moment, focus my vision on the miss-match of the neo-seventies light fittings.
The Wolverine. Logan.
Okay, so that one’s revenge. I can’t say that I blame her either, I was digging a little deep. I sigh as I roll onto my front, trying to hide the expression on my face with out looking like I’m...well...hiding the expression on my face. I don’t want to think about him. I don’t want to think about any of my old life. She knows that.
"So...?" She prompts.
"Nothing." I almost snap. Then I take a deep breath and tell myself to stop being so stupid. "Nothing, really. He was always too hooked on Jean Grey to notice."
She just gives me one of those disconcerting looks.
"What?" I accuse eventually, well aware of how grouchy I sound.
Her lips twist into a smirk. "You’re sure about that?"
"Stop it."
"There were times he looked pretty hooked on you."
Oh that’s not fair. That completely screws my concentration and makes my head spin until I settle it with another drink.
"I’m sure I remember-"
"Just let it go," I interrupt, then I’m forced to add a, "Please," at her smug expression.
To be fair to her, she doesn’t say anymore. She knows when she’s pushed me far enough. She doesn’t go into details about the ‘times’ either, because that would mean acknowledging Alkali Lake or the Statue of Liberty , but we both know what she meant. And yeah, we’ve talked about them, we couldn’t possibly work together without going through that, but some things are best left to lie.
I sigh into her sudden silence, wishing I’d never started the stupid game.
Eventually I shrug. "It was never more than big brother protector stuff," I say quietly, as if that explains everything. But even as the words leave my mouth, the memory of the way he looked at me that night, the night I left to get the cure, suddenly rises in my mind and it fills me with a sinking sense of... something.
That intense look in his eyes. So serious. So...
I push the thought quickly away in favour of another mouthful of drink. Whatever it was, it’s another thing best left alone.
Besides, it was only big brother stuff. What was it he had said? ‘I’m not your father, kid. I’m your friend.’
Just a friend.
Jean was the one he ran after.
And like hell am I gonna sit here and mope about it! I raise my bottle to hers. "Your turn."
She stretches like a cat. "Truth."
"You ever had sex as a man?" Well, come on, it’s gotta be asked. And I have to admit, it’s the one thing I was always curious about. I mean, what would you do with her powers? A given chance to know how the other side works. Would you?
She flashes me her white teeth, and laughs. "Oh yes. And it’s an experience let me tell you. Totally different... ball game."
I snigger, and she hands me another drink. I’m gonna feel rough as hell by the evening, but right now I don’t care. I’ve got the whole day ahead of me, and I don’t care how it happens, I plan to have some fun.