“You mean this happened the day she passed out in the shower? And we’re just finding out about it now?” Jean was all but spitting with fury.
Storm was only slightly less upset than Jean. “I knew they were hiding something, but I never imagined—“
“The fact that she kept this from us isn’t important now,” Xavier maintained. “We must focus our efforts on learning how it happened. For that matter, we need to know what happened. Rogue is convinced that her skin is no longer deadly to anyone, but I’m not so sure. All we really know is that Logan was unaffected by her skin during one incident last week.”
“And he took off and just left her to deal with this all by herself? That seems low even for him,” Scott put in.
“He said he’d be back. His clothes are still in his room. I doubt he took much of anything with him,” Storm offered.
“He took my bike—again,” Scott bit off. If he could have devised an explosive lock for the bike that would vaporize Logan without destroying the bike he’d have done it long ago. Sadly, he hadn’t had time to create one that could discriminate between mutant and motorcycle.
Jean went to her computer and began making a list of medical tests she intended to order for Rogue.
“We’ll need to begin testing her right away—blood work, brain scans, MRI—“ Jean rattled off.
“Yes, yes, those are all necessary, of course,” Xavier broke in. “But they are also the very reason she kept this a secret. We cannot subject her to a battery of invasive tests without her consent. And she has no intention of giving it. Not now, anyway.”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad!” Jean retorted.
The entire group looked at her like she’d just beheaded a puppy.
“Let’s not forget that she had an unidentified flu virus thriving in her body for the better part of a week. What if that’s what caused this? Flu viruses have been known to mutate, too, you know. What if it’s contagious?” She let the implications of that possibility sink in before she continued. Understanding dawned almost simultaneously for all three of her companions.
Scott said what they were all thinking, “Oh, shit.”
“The least we should do is quarantine her here in the Med Lab,” the doctor insisted.
“Is that really necessary? I mean, she’s been in class every day since Monday. Today’s Saturday. If others had been infected, surely we’d have seen symptoms by now,” Storm reasoned.
“Are any of the children ill?” Xavier asked her.
“No, none.”
“Jean, we must convince her to be a willing participant in this, especially if she’s wrong about her mutation being completely…off. She could be dangerous if we try to quarantine her or force her to be tested,” the professor affirmed.
“Well, then how do we convince her to cooperate?” Jean posed.
“We don’t,” Xavier said. “I think it’s time to locate the Wolverine.”
---------------
Three hours later, Scott parked the red convertible in the gravel lot in front of a dingy gray two-story clapboard building with a rusted metal roof. Two rickety looking steps led up to a small wooden porch where the front door stood open. Scott wasn’t sure if that was to let fresh air in or the stench out. Probably both.
“Jean, how about if you just wait here while I see if this is the place the professor was talking about? This can’t be the only scuzzy-looking watering hole on this road,” he said.
“He’s here, Scott.”
Cyclops sighed audibly, hating the hint of excitement he caught in her voice. He might be blind without his visor, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that Jean loved him. She would never leave him for Logan, but that didn’t mean that the bastard didn’t still stir her blood now and then.
“I don’t suppose I could talk you into letting me go in alone, could I?”
“No, you couldn’t,” the red-head said as she exited the car while Scott held the door for her. She stepped closer, pressing her body the length of his lean frame, her intense gaze darting from his covered eyes to his beckoning mouth. After slamming the car door shut, he wrapped his arms around her waist. She twined hers around his neck. Their lips touched, softly at first, and then with more heat as Scott’s hands traveled up and down her ribcage and finally settled on the high curve of her ass. They tightened their hold on one another simultaneously, bringing their bodies into greater intimate contact.
Oh, how he wished they’d brought the Hummer, with its roomy, collapsible back seat, instead of a two-seater convertible.
“Yes, that would have been nice,” Jean said, reading his thoughts, “but, like it or not, we are here to collect Logan—‘by any means necessary’, to quote the professor. Whatever I say in here, you just back me up, OK?”
“I’ve always got your back, sweetheart. But whatever you have in mind, I doubt it will be necessary. Logan will do anything to help Rogue, even put up with me.”
He gave her another quick kiss and then they walked, hand in hand, up the steps and through the open door.
---------------
He opens the door to his room at the mansion, tosses his leather jacket on the bed and pulls off his black t-shirt intending to head for the shower.
“Hi, sugar,” a familiar voice calls from the semi-darkness of the opposite corner of the room as he flings the door shut.
She’s sitting in the big leather chair in the corner, one knee draped over the thickly padded arm of the chair, her bare foot dangling toward the floor. She’s wearing one of his white undershirts and the skimpiest pair of white lacy panties he’s ever seen. She must have just come from the shower, because her hair is wet and the shirt clings to her damp breasts, revealing her taut nipples.
The sight of her in her tantalizing outfit takes his breath away. He nearly falls to his knees on the spot, but manages to stay on his feet long enough to stumble across the room like a marooned sailor approaching the long-awaited rescue boat.
Dropping to his knees at last in front of the chair, he whispers her name, soft as a prayer on his lips.
“Rogue.”
He watches her eyes glitter in the half-light. The scent of her arousal surrounds him, so palpable it takes on a life and limbs of its own, seeming to reach into his pants to stroke his cock. He closes his eyes and revels in the sensation.
When he opens his eyes he sees that it isn’t some phantom hand stroking him, it’s hers. His fly is undone and she’s freed him completely, her long, slender fingers wrapping firmly around his considerable girth.
“Close your eyes again, darlin’. I’m in control this time. I’ll take care of you, I promise,” she whispers as her hand moves over his length with a touch that is as much a squeeze as it is a pull. From base to tip, again and again, she smooths her fingertips along the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. His hips buck involuntarily as his body strives to complete the act her hand is mimicking.
But he doesn’t want to come, not yet, so he tries to pull her hand away, but she only grips him tighter. The pleasure is so keen it’s almost pain.
“Keep your eyes closed. You can do whatever you want, sugar, just don’t open your eyes.” Her voice is soft, seductive. He would do anything—anything—that voice asked of him.
And then she lets go of his cock. Obviously, she needs him to stay hot and hard for some reason. He groans as his imagination runs wild.
He dives forward, blindly, trusting her to guide his mouth to her waiting breast, and she does. He latches onto one protruding nipple, sucking for all he’s worth right through the flimsy cotton stretched across her ample bosom. His hands slide beneath the shirt to caress the smooth expanse of her back. This close, he can hear her heart beating like she’s running a marathon. Her breathing is ragged and shallow. She moans as she buries her fingers in his hair and tugs it gently, directing him to the other nipple which he rolls between his tongue and his top teeth until she is squirming beneath him.
He grabs her hips with both hands, pulling her panties off as he drags her down onto the carpet. His eyes are still closed as he settles himself on top of her, stroking a hand across her stomach, using her belly button as a landmark on his journey to her dark V and the precious flesh it covers.
He hears her feet scrape back on the carpet as she raises her knees to give him access. His control is slipping, so tasting her juices will have to wait. He has to be inside her. Now.
But he can’t do this blind. He has to see her eyes when he takes her. She has to be looking into his eyes when he makes her his own.
So he opens his eyes and stares directly into the deep, brown eyes of Jean Grey.
Logan jerked awake so hard he nearly threw himself off the cot.
Holy shit! Where the fuck did she come from?
He flopped back down on the cot and tried to get his heart rate back out of the stratosphere. Even after his breathing calmed and his pulse slowed down, his hard on raged painfully as the images from the dream continued to haunt him.
He’d been with Rogue—at first. It was her hand clenching around him, her voice directing him. Wasn’t it? Yes, it was, definitely.
Then why was Jean in his dream at all? And why, if it was only a dream, was Jean’s scent wafting up the stairs?
He rolled off the cot and grabbed his jeans from the floor where he’d dropped them the night before. Grimacing as he shoved his woody into his pants and yanked up the zipper, he cursed Jack for the hundredth time for not putting a bathroom upstairs. In lieu of a cold shower, he took several deep breaths and mentally groped for something—anything—else to think about. The first non-erotic thing that popped into his head was a list of his favorite names for Scott Summers, so he silently recited them until he had calmed down enough to walk without doubling over.
One Eye, Scooter, Dickhead, Super Dork, Cyke-o-Geek…One Eye, Scooter, Dickhead, Super Dork…
It was early afternoon, judging by the angle of the light coming in the filthy window of his cell, which meant the bar would be virtually empty, even on Saturday. The joint didn’t start jumping most nights until well after dark.
Before heading downstairs, Logan sniffed the air again. Jean’s feminine scent stuck out like a sore thumb among those of Jack, Smitty and the old trucker sleeping off his binge in a corner booth. It was no dream; she was definitely here. And so, his nose told him, was One Eye.
Lovely. Just lovely.
“…I’m telling you, I don’t know anybody by the name of Logan,” he heard Jack insisting as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Listen, buddy—“ Scott started, fisting Jack’s shirt, intent on hauling him bodily across the bar.
“It’s OK, Jack,” Logan cut in as he sauntered up to the bar. “Scooter here is harmless, but if you piss the little lady off she’ll raise the roof—literally.”
His steady voice masked his racing pulse. Why had they come after him? Xavier would have had to use Cerebro to find him in this godforsaken hole in the wall. What could be so important? Surely not a mission. They had plenty of firepower without him. That left only one possibility.
Rogue’s secret was out.
“Jean, if you missed me enough to come after me, what the hell do you need him for?” Logan asked, knowing this wasn’t about Jean, but unable to resist a chance to needle Scott.
“I came to get my bike. Where is she?” Scott cut in.
Logan jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Out back. Here—“ He pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Scott who caught them easily. “Why don’t you take her for a spin while Red and I chat?”
Scott shot a questioning look in Jean’s direction. She nodded. He left.
“Not that I don’t miss you, Logan, because I do,” the willowy red-head offered, her voice a wee bit too low and breathy. She let the thought hang, waited.
“But…?” Logan supplied, wondering what the hell was up with the semi-seduction. He might have been excited if he wasn’t so confused. On the heels of the dream he’d just had, the combined effect was unsettling.
“This is really about Rogue. Something has happened to her.”
In a split second, Logan’s whole world went dark. The way Jean said it turned his adamantium knees into wet noodles. His head swam in disbelief. He gripped the bar so hard for support the thick wooden slab popped and snapped like a pine log in a campfire, sending Jack cringing backward against the glass doors of a cooler filled with bottled beers.
“What--?” Logan managed.
“Well, I thought you were there, when her mutation, uh…”
Relief swamped him, immediately followed by blistering anger. He let go of the bar, which to Jack’s unending relief stayed in one piece.
“Holy Christ, Jean, I thought you meant something else happened, something worse!” he shouted at her. He was furious, partly with her for scaring him like that, but mostly with himself for letting her see how devastating her words had been to him.
Jean smiled inwardly. Her little play on words had worked perfectly. Scott was right. Logan would do anything to help Rogue.
Confident her method of persuasion wouldn’t be necessary, Jean simply stated the facts.
“We need to know what happened, Logan. She needs to know, too, but she’s reluctant to let us do the necessary tests. The professor wants you to encourage her to cooperate in the investigation.”
Logan gaped at her. Did she have any idea what she sounded like? Fuck, even the Nazis showed more compassion than she did.
Stamping down his disgust, Logan said, “Rogue is a big girl—over eighteen, last I checked. She doesn’t need me—or anyone else—to do her thinking for her.”
OK, so this wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. Jean softened her tone and tried again.
“She’s too scared to think straight, Logan. She's not just scared of the process; she’s afraid we might find out that what happened with you was a fluke, a hiccup, in her mutation, and she doesn’t want to accept that. She wants to believe she’s ‘cured’, that her skin is no longer harmful to anyone, but the professor and I doubt that’s the case. The only way she will ever know for sure is to let us do the research. Otherwise, it will be as though nothing had changed for her at all.”
“Aren’t you missing a rather obvious alternative?” Logan inquired.
“You mean she could just touch someone and see what happens? Yes, she could, and in fact that’s a necessary step in the testing, but it needs to be done in a controlled environment under specific conditions. Frankly, I’m a little surprised she hasn’t already tried it on her own. When I asked her why she hadn’t, she said she didn’t think it was right to use her friends as guinea pigs.”
“Good for her.”
“Of course, good for her. She’s too good a person to deliberately risk hurting someone else for her own benefit, which is why she has to let us help her. Logan, she won’t listen to any of us, not even the professor and you know how much she respects him. You’re the only one she trusts.”
And how long would that last if he talked her into doing this and it all went south? His nightmares were filled with needles and wires and mind-bending pain. He sensed that Jean and the others were nothing like the men who experimented on him, but it still gave him the willies to think of Rogue being poked and prodded and scanned for however long it would take to find the answers they were looking for. But, what if there wasn’t a medical or scientific explanation? What if it just happened, without rhyme or reason? Knowing Jean, she wouldn’t quit until she solved the puzzle. Rogue might end up living like a lab rat indefinitely. No way in hell was he going to let that happen.
“Then again, how are you going to protect her from us evil geniuses if you’re a hundred miles away?” Jean whispered conspiratorially, dovetailing on his unspoken vow.
“Knock it off, Jean,” Logan growled. The last thing he needed was her snooping around in his head. His latest dream was way too fresh, in every sense of the word.
“You can’t honestly believe we want to hurt her. For Christ’s sake, Logan, we only want to help her!”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be helped. Maybe she doesn’t care how or why this happened. Maybe she’s just fine the way she is.”
He knew better than that. He knew she had to be scared and confused, and it killed him to think of her there all alone, facing down a bunch of well-meaning geeks itching to get their knowledge-hungry hands on her. She’d obviously been able to hold them off so far, but how much longer could she do that by herself, especially if her power really had abandoned her?
His mind picked that moment to replay a scene on a train.
“So, what do you say? Give these geeks one more shot? C’mon. I’ll take care of you.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”
Hearing his heavy sigh, Jean smiled brightly. The professor’s lessons were paying off. She was getting better at projecting thoughts and images into other people’s heads.
Logan noticed her grin, saw the knowing glint in her eye.
“Oh, neat trick,” he quipped sarcastically. “I know you don’t believe it, but I actually do have a conscience. So for the last time, get the fuck out of my head!”
“OK, Logan, no more head games. Just for the sake of argument, let’s say we skip all the medical testing. Your presence is still required.”
“How so?”
“It’s the most basic principle of science. Repeat the experiment. Confirm the findings. Aren’t you the least bit curious? Don’t you want to know what will happen the next time she touches you?”
Before he could clamp shut the lid on the whole Pandora’s Box of fantasies he had about that particular moment, one of them escaped, streaked across his consciousness and lodged in his eyes in the form of a lusty spark. Which might not have given him away entirely, had it not been for the guilty look that immediately followed it.
“Good God, Logan, you can’t be serious.” Jean stared at him incredulously.
“Stop reading me, Jean!”
“Oh, Logan, that wasn’t reading; that was pure female intuition.”
“Which must be why I have no idea what you girls are talking about,” Scott chimed in, having returned from his ride.
Shooting Scott a warning glare, Jean continued. “Logan, you have to come back and help us—help Rogue--understand what’s happened to her, but you can’t seriously be thinking about…getting involved…with her. She’s just a baby!”
“No, Jean, she isn’t. She grew up while we weren’t looking,” Logan stated dryly.
It was Scott’s turn to look shocked as the gist of the conversation dawned on him.
“Logan, if you touch her, I swear—“
“Wait a minute! I thought that’s what you wanted me to do, what you were here begging me to come back and do—touch her!”
“Not like that, you son of a—“
“Stop it, both of you!” Jean barked, stepping between them and placing her hands on Scott’s chest.
After they all took a couple of deep breaths, Jean said, “Scott, honey, I’m parched. Would you please get us a pitcher and some glasses? Logan and I will be in that booth by the kitchen.”
Scott did as she asked, albeit with a black cloud over his head.
In the time it took to walk the few steps to the booth, Logan made two decisions. One, he was going back. He couldn’t leave Rogue there to go through all of this alone. He owed her so much more than simple protection, but at least he knew he could give her that. Which led him to the second decision—if the evil geniuses, as Jean so aptly referred to them, made one false move, he would grab Rogue and run as fast and as far from all the X-men as they could get.
That kind of road trip would require lots of cash. He’d made good money the past few nights in the cage, but the real big spenders were expected to show up tonight. If he could buy himself and Rogue one more day, he could go back with a king’s ransom and two tickets for an around the world cruise in his pocket.
Scott came back with the pitcher and glasses and slid into the seat beside Jean.
“Have I ever told you two what a cute couple you make? No? Good,” Logan teased as he poured beer into two of the glasses. He started to raise the pitcher to his lips but stopped when he saw two pairs of eyebrows shoot up, followed by four eyes glaring at him. Scowling, he filled the third glass and set the pitcher on the table.
“Speaking of cute couples, Wolverine…” Scott said with venomous emphasis on Logan’s alter ego.
“Oh, do go on, Scooter. You were saying?” Logan challenged.
“You can’t seriously think she wants you, and even if she does, you’re way too old—old enough to know better than to let her get all starry-eyed over the likes of you.”
“And too thick-skinned to be insulted by the likes of you. But guess what, Super Dork, this time I actually agree with you.” Logan let Scott chew on that revelation while he downed his beer and refilled his glass.
“That’s why you ran off so fast, isn’t it? You didn’t trust yourself to be around her with her mutation…missing,” Jean said softly, thinking out loud, forming each word as it came into her head. Her eyes were sad when they met his. So many things about the strange relationship between the young beauty and the ancient beast suddenly made sense.
It was going to sting his pride something awful to spill his guts in front of Scott, but it couldn’t be helped. If he was going back to the mansion, he was going to do it with all the cards on the table. Well, except maybe for an ace shaped like two cruise tickets.
“Don’t get all misty on me, Jean. Like I said, whether you like it or not, Rogue is a grown woman and she can make her own choices—about the testing and about who she…” He was suddenly at a loss for words. Dates? Sleeps with? Loves? Loves?!? “…uh, well, about her personal life,” he finally managed, somewhat relieved.
“It’s not Rogue’s choices I’m worried about,” Scott shot back.
“Bullshit. If you were treating her like an adult, trusting her to make her own decisions, you wouldn’t even be here now, so spare me the ‘big brother’ act, OK? Here’s what you need to know. One, I will come back to the mansion as requested, but not until tomorrow morning. Don’t ask why, ‘cause it’s none of your business and I’m not telling you. Two, you will not, repeat not, do or say anything to Rogue with regard to this situation until I get there. Three, I ain’t the goddamn Gestapo. When I get there, I won’t be telling Rogue to toe the party line; I’ll be encouraging her to do what she thinks is best for her and, make no mistake, I will stand by her, whatever decision she makes.”
“You and her against the world, huh, Logan? I guess it’s been like that for a long time, hasn’t it?” Jean posed thoughtfully.
“Well, you said it yourself, she trusts me. I don’t think there’s another person on this whole planet that I can say that about, present company included. She and I have been there for each other through some pretty rough shit in the past few years. That means more to me than you’ll ever know,” he admitted. He was more than a little surprised at how easily the words had come to him.
“If that’s true, then why would you take off and leave her when she’s facing probably the biggest thing that’s happened to her since her skin turned deadly?” Scott asked with genuine interest.
“I’ll let Jean explain it to you on the way home, Scooter,” he said, shooting Jean a look that said he appreciated her understanding. Then, unable to resist getting in one last dig, he continued, “Or maybe she can tell it as a bedtime story tonight with your cookies and warm milk.”
“Fuck you, Logan,” Scott returned as he flung the motorcycle keys at him, just out of his reach.
Snikt.
Logan’s middle claw shot out and snagged the key ring in midair. He turned his hand so the claw pointed up in an unmistakable hand gesture.
“Right back at ya, Bub,” he said, smiling as the keys clanked to the bottom of the claw.
Scott smiled back in spite of himself and there was more genuine camaraderie in it than any of them would have expected.
“Well, see you tomorrow morning then,” Jean said as she and Scott made their way to the door with Logan trailing behind them and pocketing the keys.
When they got to the porch, Scott headed down the steps toward the car, but Jean suddenly spun around, grabbed Logan’s face in both her hands and kissed him like her life depended on it.
What the…?!!
Logan froze. Even his lips didn’t react for the first heartbeat or two. Then, he kissed her back, but with none of the intensity she had brought to the exchange. He placed his hands over hers and lifted them from his cheeks.
Their eyes met and Logan realized she had used the kiss to look past his head to his heart. Her sympathetic smile told him she had seen everything.
“Nice kiss. Wrong girl,” Logan said.
“Just checking. I had to be sure,” Jean returned. “You understand, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. And now so do you.”
She nodded.
“You still want me to come back?” Logan asked, leaning against a porch post.
She turned and went down the steps to the car. As she climbed into the passenger seat beside a slack-jawed Scott, she called back to him, “Logan, you may not believe this, but I know you’ll do the right thing by Rogue. It simply isn’t in you to do otherwise.”
“Yeah? You might want to tell him that before he does something he’ll regret,” he said, pointing to Scott who had closed his mouth but was now resting two fingers on the side of his visor, like he was thinking about giving Logan a taste of his ruby red glare.
Jean laid a hand on Scott’s arm and said in a soothing tone, “Easy there, honey. He’s no threat to you anymore.” Then she quickly added, “Not that he ever really was.”
Scott shot her a puzzled look as he started the car and backed away from the bar.
“Just drive, baby, I’ll tell you all about it on the way home.”
With that, they drove off in a cloud of dust, leaving Logan standing on the porch with Jean’s words echoing in his head.
I know you’ll do the right thing by Rogue.
Of course he wanted to do the right thing by her. Now, all he had to do was figure out exactly what that was. Going back was no longer the issue. The question now was what was he going to do when he got there?
But he didn’t have time to ponder it now. Now he needed to go find Jack and Smitty and renegotiate his share of the night’s receipts. He figured if he got half instead of a third, combined with the money he’d already made, it would be enough for he and Rogue to live on for quite a while. Of course, Jack and Smitty might have a few objections to changing the split, but Logan had razor sharp reasons they should see things his way—six of them, in fact.
End Chapter 5.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
So here's Chapter 5. Don't get used to this chapter-a-day thing, though, 'cause Chapter 6 still has a ways to go before its all out of my head and on the page.
Disclaimer: I swiped another bit verbatim from X1, same scene as Chapter 4, but different lines. Just need to give credit where credit is due.
Disclaimer: I swiped another bit verbatim from X1, same scene as Chapter 4, but different lines. Just need to give credit where credit is due.