Rogue’s head swiveled back and forth as she peered first at Logan and then at Jubilee. They were finishing dinner in the great hall, Storm, Hank, and Kurt occupying the seats nearest them and dozens of curious students were sneaking glances at the head table. Several of the older students had heard stories about former students, particularly those who had been Rogue’s classmates, and they were whispering theories to the younger ones about Jubilee’s identity. The fact that she still favored yellow after all these years helped them determine which of the famous students she was.
“Is one of ya’ll going to tell me what’s going on?” Rogue hissed at Logan and Jubilee.
“Nope,” they answered together, sharing a secretive grin that Rogue found infuriating.
There was a sudden lull to the students’ murmured conversations and one soft voice floated clearly to Rogue’s ears.
“Miss Rogue looks mad. Do you think the new lady is Mr. Logan’s girlfriend?”
Rogue whipped around in her seat to spear the first year student with a stern glance. The girl loosed a startled “Eep!” and ducked her head. Around her, Rogue could hear the other adults chuckling. Only Logan remained quiet. Rogue glanced at him inquiringly.
“Almost a dozen years later and it seems the students’ favorite pastime is still gossiping about us,” he murmured, his quiet observation meant only for her. With a frown, Rogue nodded agreement.
Storm gave them a gentle smile. Pushing her chair back, she stood and tapped the side of her water goblet with a clean fork. As if coordinated, all the students turned toward her at the same time, the remaining conversation dying down.
“Children, we have a guest staying with us for a few days. This,” she said with a graceful gesture toward Jubilee, “is one of my former students. You may call her Miss Jubilee. For the time that she is here, you are to treat her with the same respect as you do your teachers. Understood?”
Storm received a silent nod from every student. “Now,” she continued, “Does anyone have any questions for Miss Jubilee?”
Dozens of eager hands shot into the air. Storm sighed. “Katie?” she invited, gesturing toward one of the older students.
“Are you that Jubilee?” the girl asked.
Laughing robustly, Jubilee nodded. “None other.”
A few students lowered their hands, but plenty continued waving in the air. Storm acknowledged a younger student. “Hannah?”
The preteen stood up in her eagerness. “Are you Mr. Logan’s girlfriend?” she asked loudly.
Before Jubilee could reply, Logan growled, “No, she isn’t.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, looking disappointed as she sank back into her chair.
Rogue snickered as half a dozen more hands dropped.
Hannah popped back up in excitement. “Are you Miss Rogue’s girlfriend then?”
Jubilee gaped at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “No,” she said finally, wiping a tear from the corner of her left eye.
“Oh,” Hannah said again as she dropped once more into her seat.
“Last question,” Storm said, nodding toward a tall, thin boy with bright blue hair.
The student swallowed before speaking, his adam’s apple sliding awkwardly in his throat. “How long will you be staying, Miss Jubilee?” he asked, voice cracking.
Jubilee blinked. “I’m not sure yet. That will depend on a couple of things.” She cast a speculative look at Logan and Rogue. Logan merely raised an eyebrow while Rogue scowled fiercely.
“Oh, by the way, chica. Storm said there aren’t any empty rooms at the moment, so I’m taking yours.”
Rogue’s scowl deepened and she missed Jubilee’s wink at Logan as she shoved a heaping forkful of chocolate cake into her mouth.
***
“Marie, this is ridiculous,” Logan said.
“Just hold this,” she said, shoving her pillow into his hands. She snapped open the blue flowered bed sheet and draped it over the longest couch in the library.
“Marie,” he said again, a warning in his voice.
“What?” Rogue snapped, rounding on him.
“You can sleep in my room.”
“Logan,” she reasoned, “I know you end up with a stiff neck whenever you sleep on a couch.”
Logan shrugged. “I wasn’t offering to sleep on the couch.”
“What?”
“We’ll share my bed. I promise I can keep my hands to myself for one night.”
“Um, Logan?”
“Yeah?” He was already busy pulling the sheet free from the couch cushions.
“She’s going to be here more than one night.”
“Look, kid,” he said, rounding on her. “If anything happens and you say stop, I’ll stop. What’s the problem?”
“Why does it have to be my responsibility to make you stop?” she grumbled, snatching the sheet from him and folding it with sharp, jerking motions.
Logan’s left eyebrow quirked in interest. “You doubting your willpower?”
“No,” Rogue defended. But her voice lacked conviction.
Logan chuckled. “Quite a change from a few days ago when you swore you weren’t interested in me sexually.”
“That’s before I ended up draped over the hood of a damn car! I don’t know what changed all of a sudden,” she snapped, “and I’m not really happy that it did.”
“Why the hell not?” Logan fought to control his temper, knowing that she was just being honest.
“Because I don’t love you the way a woman’s supposed to love her husband and I never thought that I’d want to sleep with somebody I don’t love!” Rogue’s voice was taut with anger.
Logan blew out an exasperated breath. “You’ve got a lot of hangups, you know that, kid?”
“Hangups?” Rogue shrieked, swinging the folded sheet at him. Logan blocked the blow with the pillow.
“All right, maybe that’s not the right word.”
Rogue lowered the sheet, indicating that she would listen.
“I would agree with you if I were just some random guy. And I don’t think you’d want to sleep with me if I were. But you know I love you, right, kid?”
Rogue nodded cautiously.
“And I know you love me. So what if it isn’t the right kind of love? It’s a hell of a lot more than most people have. And I can tell you it’s a hell of a lot more than I’ve had with any woman I’ve slept with.”
“You don’t know that for sure, Logan,” Rogue felt burdened to remind him.
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “If I can’t remember it, it might as well not have happened. And I don’t ever remember caring about a woman the way I care about you. It makes a difference,” he said, his voice deepening. “It makes me want you more.”
Rogue’s eyes widened.
“So my take on it is that it’s natural to want to sleep with someone when you care about them the way we care about each other.”
“What about Jean? You loved her.” Rogue said in a small voice.
Logan considered the question. Finally, he answered, “I wanted Jean from the beginning. It wasn’t until later that I started to like her. But I never loved her, kid. And I never slept with her.”
Rogue hesitated over the revelation. She had never been sure of the nature of Logan’s relationship with Jean. “I saw how torn up you were when she died, Logan. There was love there.”
Logan shrugged jerkily, the motion awkward compared to his normal graceful ease of movement. It silently told Rogue how uncomfortable he was with the conversation. He tilted his head back and searched the ceiling as if he might find answers written there.
“I think it was more regret about what could have been,” he said finally, his tone soft.
Rogue studied him carefully, taking note of the easing of tension in his shoulders and the fractional smoothing of the lines of his face.
“Did you ever think you loved her?”
“I…Yeah, for a while I did.”
“What made you realize you didn’t?”
Logan pinned her with an intense stare. “You did, kid.”
“Me? How?” Rogue asked in disbelief.
“After Jean died, you were still missing for a while. And I realized I was more concerned over whether you were safe than that Jean was dead.”
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t love her, Logan.” Rogue wondered vaguely why she was trying to defend Logan’s feelings for the dead woman when it would only be an obstacle between them in their marriage.
“How do you figure?” he asked curiously.
“Well, Jean was already dead and there was nothing you could do about it. Me missing, on the other hand, was something you might have been able to do something about.” Rogue shrugged. “You were prioritizing.”
Logan squinted at her in consideration. Finally, he shook his head. “Maybe,” he conceded, “but the bottom line is that her death didn’t destroy me. I think yours would.”
“Logan,” Rogue said in exasperation, ignoring the little thrill in her heart. She propped her hands on her hips, a gesture made awkward by the bundled sheet still held in her right hand. “Is it really necessary to compare the feelings you have for us? What’s it going to prove?”
Smiling faintly, he nodded. “You’re right. It’ll only end up making me a basket case, right?”
“Well,” Rogue said cheekily, “more of a basket case.”
Logan scowled at her in mock anger and snatched the sheet away from her as he strode from the library. At the door he called over his shoulder, “Come on, kid. Time for bed.”
***
An hour later Logan was sincerely regretting his offer to share his bed with Rogue. She kept rooting around in the covers, shifting the pillow, twitching her foot or elbow, sighing loudly, and muttering to herself.
Rearing up on one elbow, Logan glared at her in the dim light. “Will you just settle down already?”
“I can’t!” Rogue snapped resentfully.
Logan sighed and flopped down on his back next to her. “Why the hell not? It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.”
“That was before you wanted to have sex with me,” Rogue reminded him in a small voice.
“Marie, what the hell?” he asked helplessly, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m not going to turn into some monster and rape you.”
“I didn’t think that!” Rogue returned, her tone horrified. The immediacy of her reply went a long way toward soothing Logan’s injured pride.
“Then just settle down, kid,” he said gently.
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re acting different already!”
“Huh?” Logan asked intelligently, blinking rapidly into the darkness. He hadn’t laid a hand on her since they had climbed beneath the covers.
“You always used to cuddle up with me,” Rogue reminded him, a trace of pain in her soft voice.
A snort of laughter escaped him. He had been so worried that she’d be upset if he touched her that he hadn’t dared treat this like any of the other nights they had been forced to share a bed. It hadn’t happened often - the odd mission or two with only a tent to shelter under, or the occasional need to give up a room at the mansion when there were too many visitors.
“It’s not funny,” Rogue snapped.
“Yes it is,” Logan insisted as he rolled onto his side and scooped her into his arms. Rogue stiffened. He ignored it and went about arranging their limbs comfortably, ending with his right arm cradling her head and his left draped around her waist. He tucked his knees up behind hers and rested his chin on the top of her head, sharing her pillow. Rogue relaxed at the familiar position. “Better?” he asked.
“Much,” Rogue said in satisfaction, grasping his left hand with hers.
Logan sighed and closed his eyes. Sleep claimed them in less than a minute.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000