“You…shouldn’t have.”
Beast simply continued to grin in that benignly toothy way that set Logan’s own teeth grinding against each other most times.
Logan tried again. “I mean it, fuzzbutt. You shouldn’t have. Don’t include me in this mess.” He stared down the other mutant’s cheery visage with a glare. “I’m leaving. I don’t stay here at Christmas.”
A blue, fur-covered finger waggled in disagreement. “I seem to recall your assistance with a certain yuletide play last year…”
Logen jabbed back with a finger of his own. “One exception. One.”
“During which,” Hank “the Beast” McCoy continued, “you displayed an admirable ability to vocalize a certain classic Christmas carol.”
“You weren’t there. How the hell do you know what I did?”
“I recorded it,” said Rogue as she rushed into the kitchen and planted a quick peck on Logan’s fuzzy cheek as she slipped past him. “Here’s the menu for the end of term dinner. The kids want to try to make it more of a traditional European celebration this year. You know, pudding, mincemeat pies, and eggnog. That sort of stuff.”
Hank frowned at the paper she shoved into his hand and adjusted his spectacles as he straightened it with a gentle shake.
“Technically speaking, the term ‘eggnog’ possibly refers to ‘egg and grog in a noggin’ – grog being the American colonial slang used for rum. If we are to stage this as a European celebration, it might be a bit more correct to refer to the drink as ‘dry sack posset’ and change the alcohol-based ingredient to wine or Spanish sherry.”
As Hank rambled on, Logan leaned toward Rogue and hissed, “What do you mean you recorded it?”
“I was in the back of the room that night with Megan’s dad’s camera. He needed someone to record it so he could stay with his wife in case she needed him.” Her face lit with a brilliant smile. “I just wish I could have recorded their faces when you came out and helped Megan sing. I swear I was streaming tears by the time you two were done. You have no idea how hard it was to hold that camera steady and mop up my nose with Kleenex so I wouldn’t sniffle into the microphone and ruin the song. I replayed it for everyone in the mansion who couldn’t go to the hospital.” Her face fell when Rogue finally spied the duffle in Logan’s hand and the jacket zipped up for a ride on his motorcycle. Her mouth quivered slightly. “Oh no, sugar. You can’t leave. You wouldn’t, would you?”
Logan felt his scowl slip slightly in the presence of such distress, but only slightly. “Why not?” he demanded.
“Because it’s almost Christmas! And because it’s the time of year to spend with families. And you shouldn’t be alone. And the kids will miss you. And I will. And I...and I…And it’s snowing.” Out of breath and obviously out of patience, she inhaled and let loose an explosive sigh as she stormed out of the room and into the nether-reaches of the mansion.
Logan was sure the faint, “Oh, nevermind,” that was registered by his extraordinary hearing was also heard by Hank’s. Sure enough, a concerned gaze of compassion peered over the spectacles.
“There’s to be a dance, Logan.”
Logan frowned. “Since when?”
“As of this afternoon. I believe she hopes for a partner.”
Logan dropped the duffle and raked his fingers through the dark unruly hair atop his head. “I always leave. Everyone knows that. Christmas is not really for me.”
“It is a seasonal celebration of life, family, hope, and promise. It happens but once a year. You made an exception last year for Megan. I believe Rogue was hoping for the same amount of…consideration.”
Slowly the jacket unzipped. “I don’t mind staying for Rogue, but during Christmas?”
“You would have had to stay in any case. I need your help, as I said initially before we were interrupted. You are a far better cook than I.”
“Pizza and toast. That’s it,” said Logan, dropping the jacket on top of the bag. “So you and I are signed up for kitchen duty?”
“Everyone else is engaged.” He grinned slyly, “Or should be.”
Logan decided to sidestep the suggestion aimed at his personal life. “And the food we’re making has alcohol in it?”
“Indeed.”
Wolverine sighed and then shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“That’s the spirit!”
*-*
Professor Charles Xavier sat near a table littered with the remnants of delicious-looking treats. He was alone. The other table, the one previously groaning under the weight of pizzas and punch had a much larger crowd. He glanced down at the dog lying at ease on the floor beside him and debated about tossing it the last bite of mincemeat pie. As if sensing his doom, the large, curly-haired canine rose, stretched, and sauntered off to the more aromatic fare. The professor permitted himself a smile of envy.
His head was pounding and he congratulated himself on forbidding the younger students from sampling any of the ancient fare that contained alcohol. Blearily he eyed the door that led toward his quarters where he would find acetaminophen and rest. Until then, he would take up his self-appointed task.
“Avoid the eggnog,” he said as someone slipped up from behind him and headed for the punchbowl at his elbow.
“It’s me, Chuck.”
“Ah, Logan.” Charles adjusted his chair to better face the man. “Yes, for you, that drink would be fine. Just don’t let any of the children sample it.”
Logan downed a glass and made a face. “What’s wrong with it? Hank followed the recipe.”
“Who’s recipe?”
“George Washington’s, I think. It tastes okay to me.”
“Have you noticed anything odd about your fellow X-Men’s behavior in the last hour?”
He watched as Logan scanned the raucous crowd. “They’re happy.”
“And drunk.” The professor eyed him. “You have no idea what a hangover is like, do you?”
“Nope.” Logan grinned and downed another cup of eggnog. “And this is why you shouldn’t rope me into Christmas celebrations.”
A gloved hand slipped neatly around his waist and Logan, not startled, grinned a little more fiercely.
“Dance with me?” asked Rogue, a happy lilt to her voice.
“Give me half a second,” said Logan, kissing her hairline affectionately.
When they were alone again, Charles decided to try once more. “Logan, Rogue will have a hangover as well in the morning. She will be in pain.”
Logan wiggled his fingers. “Not if I touch her.”
Rogue came back and pulled him on to the dance floor. As the couple moved gracefully through a slow series of steps, Charles found himself envious of the obvious love between them. He sighed and shook his head as much as he dared.
“And that is why I will keep roping you into these Christmas celebrations,” he muttered.
“Did you say something professor?” asked Jubilee as she picked up the ladle for the eggnog.
“Yes. Avoid the eggnog.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
Most of this was written a long time ago and never posted. Happens the Christmas after One Christmas Carol. Enjoy.