Thirty notes in the mailbox
will tell you that I'm coming home
and I think I'm gonna stick around
for a while so you're not alone

dead leaves and the dirty ground - The White Stripes

~*~

Rogue ran up the stairs two at a time. This made twenty-one. There was never a message, just her name and the school's address in a careful print. Always a postcard with beautiful scenery; mountains, lakes or forests, never a clichéd wish-you-were-here tourist postcard. This one was a gorgeous forest scene with a mountain in the distance. Like all the others it was well worn around the edges, smelling of leather and tobacco. She was convinced he was keeping them tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket, with his cigars, until they were mailed.

Every two weeks another postcard arrived. She turned the card over and examined the postmark. Kamloops, British Columbia, he was definitely staying south for the winter. The previous card had also come from that province along the Pacific Coast.

Kneeling down she pulled out a large wooden cigar box from under her bed. She caressed the top of the box with a gloved hand. She'd bought the old cigar box from a little store tucked away in one of the countless malls Jubilee had dragged her to. Having grown tired of trying to find the right yellow ensemble, she wandered out of the boutique. Back out in the main corridor, she spotted the little dimly lit storefront.

The rich, comforting smell of tobacco lured her in. It had none of the acidic smell of cigarettes, in fact the store didn't appear to sell cigarettes. The shop's walls were lined with all types of tobacco, tobacco products and accessories. She had strolled the two aisles, smiling at the fanciful figures carved on various pipes. Trying to imagine Logan with a pipe conjured up an image of him in a smoking jacket, brandy in one hand and leather bound book in his lap; sitting in one of the library's big leather chairs by the fireplace. She giggled at the thought of him in a quilted, satin smoking jacket, looking eerily like Hugh Hefner.

Turning to leave the shop, an assortment of boxes in the far corner caught her eye. Making her way to the back, she was surprised to see empty cigar boxes for sale. She marveled at the craftsmanship that obviously went into the making of many of the wooden ones. A few of them would make nice jewelry boxes, but those were expensive. Carefully sorting through them, she found one that captivated her.

It was older than the others, a little abused from years of handling. It was the color of well-worn leather; the bright brass of the hinges and clasp was faded. The inside held a divided tray that sat on a small ledge halfway to the bottom. Bringing the box to her nose to inhale the alluring aroma of exotic tobaccos, she smiled broadly.

Pasted on the inside of the lid was a small picture. It was a little piece of artwork, three scantily clad women lounging in a Grecian garden. The combination of the picture and the smell of tobacco pleased her inner Logan. On impulse she bought the old cigar box. It would be perfect for what she had in mind.

Jubilee had loudly protested their next stop at the bookstore, until Rogue offered to pay for a latte' and an array of sugary treats. While Jubilee impatiently waited in line, Rogue quickly made her way to the travel section. There she picked out maps for every province in Canada. She doubted Logan would ever go as far northeast as Nunavut Province, but one could never tell with him.

Smiling at the memory, Rogue opened the box, pulling out the tray and retrieving the proper map from below. Replacing the tray, she selected a colored pencil from the tray itself. She unfolded and spread the map out on her bed. Kamloops was circled in green and the date written next to it in small print. Beside that she carefully wrote the number 21 in black. Not that she needed to remember in what order the postcards arrived, but her inner Logan said it was important. Therefore she marked the dates even though she knew all the cards by heart and could tell where each originated.

She turned the card over again for a final inspection, before being placed in the tray for safekeeping. She pondered the small number in the bottom right hand corner underneath the postmark. All of the postcards had numbers, but she hadn't put any importance on it before. Taking them out she laid them down according to the small numbers. She stared at them curiously.

Kitty glanced over from her desk, stretching her back after spending too much time staring at the computer screen. "Another one?"

"Yeah." Rogue looked at Kitty guiltily for having ignored her in the rush to mark the map.

Kitty threw her a sympathetic look. "It may not even be him."

That was an old argument Rogue learned to dismiss when the postcards first appeared. It never stopped her from cataloging locations on the maps or plotting possible routes of travel. There was always one question that stopped that argument dead in its tracks.

"Who else do I know in Canada?"

Reaching her bed, Kitty scanned the postcards. "What's wrong?"

"See the little number here. Each one has a number, thirty through ten so far."

"Is that the same order you received them? Like a countdown?"

"Yeah, exactly." A countdown? Rogue couldn't think what he might be counting down to. Her eighteenth birthday was late last September. She had received the usual postcard the week before, then he called the day of her birthday. Nothing spectacular, just a how-are-you-I'm-fine conversation. He had called again at Thanksgiving and Christmas without an interruption in the postcards. Neither of them brought the cards up when talking. She didn't feel the need for confirmation of what she already knew to be true.

Kitty walked over to the calendar and absently flipped through the months. "You get one every other week, right?"

"They've been arriving the first and third week of every month, for almost a year now."

"Well, at this rate you should get the postcard marked with a one during the third week of May." At Rogue's puzzled expression; Kitty grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly. "Rogue! He's counting down to graduation. We graduate the fourth week of May."

Rogue's eyes continued to widen in understanding. He was counting down to her graduation. The time when she was no longer a teenager in high school, but a young woman expected to make important decisions about her future. He was marking the passage of time in postcards; giving her the opportunity to grow up, to become an adult.

Rogue listened eagerly as Dr. Grey called out the names of students that received mail. It was Friday and the postcards always arrived by Friday. She watched as the pile of mail slowly dwindled, until Dr. Grey held the final piece.

"Rogue." She sprang forward with an outstretched hand. Grabbing the postcard, she turned on her heel and was at the foot of the stairs when Dr. Grey spoke again.

"Rogue, we need to talk." She knew Dr. Grey could feel her disappointment at being delayed. She looked wistfully at the card in her hand. "It won't take long. I promise."

She followed Dr. Grey to the kitchen where she was offered a cup of tea and a seat at the table. She realized this was a premeditated talk as hot tea was poured from the already waiting kettle. Dr. Grey gracefully sat down across from her and for the hundredth time she wondered if the inherent grace the X-Woman possessed was part of the attraction. Was it her grace that men were drawn to? She wished at times that she had just a fraction of her grace, her confidence.

"The teaching staff is worried about your lack of plans for the fall. Your grades make you an excellent candidate for academic scholarships to several major colleges." Rogue frowned at the thought of large college campuses crowded with multitudes of careless bodies waiting to make contact with her. Those were the kind of thoughts that kept her awake at night.

Dr. Grey cautiously placed a gentle hand on her gloved one. "If you prefer, there are local colleges that you can commute to from the mansion. We ... I just hate to see you not continue your education."

Rogue had made plans, with an approving nod from the Logan in her head. She didn't expect to see the man himself at the graduation ceremony, but he'd arrive shortly there after. She already knew exactly where he was going to take her in Canada. It was all planned out down to the bag packed and sitting beside the cigar box under her bed.

Not wanting to see everyone's looks of pity, she hadn't told anybody. She could even predict Jubilee's tirade. "That is so pathetic, chica. Haven't we taught you anything? Crawl to him on your hands and knees, why don't you?"

That last thought sent her mind in a whole new direction. Images of herself crawling to a waiting Logan danced across her brain. Glancing up from the hand on hers to a pair of understanding eyes, she immediately flushed. Dr. Grey gave little away, but there was a slight reddening of her cheeks. Rogue could only guess at how strongly she must have been projecting those images.

"It's okay. You wouldn't believe how often peoples minds wander down that particular path." Pausing slightly, collecting her thoughts before continuing, the doctor gave Rogue a friendly smile. "I don't want you to pin all your hopes on something that may never materialize. It would be best to at least have a back up strategy. Just in case."

She left Dr. Grey then with a promise to see her bright and early the next morning to discuss possible plans for college. This time she made it all the way to her room without an interruption. She pulled the Saskatchewan map from the box and searched for Moose Jaw. The last three had come from different areas of southern Alberta; he was slowly making his way east. There were only four postcards left before the countdown ended.

The remaining weeks flew by as she marked the steady progression east; Dauphin, Manitoba; Thunder Bay, Ontario; and Sudbury, Ontario.

"Sorry, Rogue, that's all of the mail." Dr. Grey gave her a sympathetic glance before shuffling back through the office mail. Her hope was dashed when the older woman shook her head. "Maybe it will show up in Monday's delivery."

"Right, it probably got stuck somewhere."

Dr. Grey gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm sure that's it. They always arrive without fail."

Rogue tried not to squirm in the hard metal folding chair. Professor Xavier went all out for graduation. He wanted to make sure that it was perfect. Their class was only the fifth to graduate since Xavier Institute became state accredited school. Not only did it need to be successful in the eyes of the public, but on all political fronts as well. That led to the separate talks he had with Jubilee and Bobby. There was to be no pranks or showcasing of other talents at graduation.

The graduating class was relatively small, only twelve. The ceremony and speeches took longer than the dispensing of diplomas. She remembered little about the speeches, focused only on staying awake. The warm weather, black robe, and her usual layers of clothing were all conspiring to make her drowsy. She could feel the sweat trickle down her back, the sun showing her no mercy.

She almost fell over when her name was called. Walking slowly like they had practiced, she crossed the small platform accepting her diploma from the Professor. There was a small round of polite applause and a photographer took a picture. She carefully descended the steps and found her chair again. Standing in front of it, she waited for the rest of the students to return.

This was nothing like the high school graduations back home. She remembered going with her parents to see her older cousins graduate. They had dressed in their best for the event, but would have been so out of place here. In Meridian, relatives of the graduates brought rolls of toilet paper to throw like streamers, air horns in the can to blow when a name was announced, and bells and whistles to use. Today's audience, what parents did attend, only brought hankies and tissues to dab at dry eyes. It was a far cry from the life she knew two short years ago.

Then again none of this would have been possible for her in the 'good ole' South'. It was better that she left; it saved her parents from embarrassment. It was no use being sad about the past. She had done what was best for everyone, and in the end this was best for her.

The last student joined the group and together the class switched their tassels. After a few parting words form the Professor, they filed out to the reception area for cake and punch. The day ended in the late afternoon as most students headed off with friends or family for a long Memorial Day weekend. Supper turned out to be a small, quiet meal with a handful of students and staff.

Her room seemed so silent without Kitty and Jubilee's constant chatter or music. She had steadfastly refused to go with them to Kitty's house for the coming weekend. The calm atmosphere of the room was a welcome sight; it would give her time to think as she sorted through a year plus accumulation of junk. In the next couple of weeks their room would have to be emptied for maintenance before the students started arriving for the new school year.

Rogue was the only one in the graduating class that was staying. She had decided to use this evening to move into her new room on the teachers' wing. Mr. Summers had already made sure that her books were moved up, that left only her more personal items to pack. The janitor had left her a small cart to use, with her promise to return it tomorrow.

She had her desk and closet cleaned out in no time at all. After adding a container of bathroom items to the cart, she pushed it into the hall. She made a final check, pulling the cigar box and her packed bag from under the bed before leaving. Undoubtedly she would be back next week to help a frantic Jubilee and Kitty pack for college and move things into the room they were sharing for the summer.

At ten she had her new room arranged the way she wanted and left the cart outside the maintenance room downstairs. She used moving as a distraction to keep her mind off the real reason she was staying. She felt bad for doubting him, but she was at a loss. The final postcard never arrived and he had yet to appear. Maybe if she went back through the maps and postcards she could figure it out.

She sat down on her bed, setting the box beside her. She put her diploma in it earlier for safekeeping. Opening the satiny cover, she looked at it for the certificate for first time. It was impressive with its fine calligraphy. She smiled looking down at the name. The Professor had put her real name on the certificate. He had known it all along, but never pressed her to reveal things she felt uneasy about. Leave it to the resident mind reader to know her secret desire to see her real name there.

Setting the diploma aside, she pulled out the postcards and maps, and began the process of backtracking.

Logan leaned against the motorcycle taking the last puff from his cigar. This was the second time today that he sat in this very spot mulling the situation over.

The first time was just after lunch. He knew his attire wouldn't fit in with the other people attending. He didn't really care, but he didn't want to embarrass Marie or Xavier. He'd made his way to the back lawns. Keeping his distance, he stood under the corner of the veranda, out of the line of sight of the main group. He could still see most of the platform and all of the graduates.

He easily picked Marie out of the first row. He watched her cross the stage to receive her diploma. She had grown into a graceful young woman; even that god-awful robe couldn't hide the confidence with which she carried herself. Doubt swept over him again, turning he retreated to his bike and left.

He only made it a short distance before he pulled over at a rough looking bar. He wanted a few drinks and a fight if possible. The fight never developed, but the whiskey was good. It gave him time to make a decision.

He fished the final postcard from the cigar pocket of his leather jacket. He had first started sending them as a way of keeping track of time. It was important to him that people not link the two of them as a couple while Marie was still in high school. With everything else working against his relationship with her, they didn't need to start off with the connotations that would provide.

He turned the postcard over in his hands. This one was different from the others. They had been addressed to Rogue and after hearing that name called at the ceremony, he was glad he hadn't broken that trust. He was possibly the only one who knew her as Marie. He had hoped to deliver this card personally and addressed it to her as such.

Then there was the picture itself. All the others pictured places he had traveled. He picked them up when he saw something he wanted to share with her. A few of the places he had passed year after year without caring. This year the scenery looked different. The postcards had become a kind of sneak preview of where he wanted to take her. This last one though, was of Denali National Park in Alaska. He hadn't been there before, not that he remembered, and thought they could see it for the first time together.

He took another shot of bourbon, growling at the bartender, who this time simply left the bottle. What had he been thinking? That a teenager's little crush could develop into something more? That whatever part of him that rolled around in her head would explain his plans to her, especially when he couldn't?

He was such a selfish bastard to expect her to drop her life in order to hop on the back of his bike. He couldn't ask her to give up her dreams to fulfill his. He hadn't asked her during the few phone conversations they had. In part he was afraid she would reject him. It was easier to go on hoping than to know the cold, hard reality of it. He also had wanted to believe that she understood and was counting the weeks with him.

Taking a final shot from the now half empty bottle he got up to leave. He glanced at the postcard still lying on the bar. He desperately wanted to leave the postcard and Marie in Westchester and hightail it to the safety of Canada. He was being a damn fool. It would be best to head back now before everyone else knew it too.

So here he was twelve hours later, outside the mansion, contemplating the future. Crushing the cigar out beneath his heel, he hefted his pack and ascended the front steps; the postcard safe for now in his jacket. It would stay there as a reminder of what could have been. Now he would give up his dreams to make sure hers were fulfilled.

He tracked her scent to a room on the same wing as Scott, Jeannie and Storm. Light spilled from the open door into the hall. He stood just outside the room; inside along the far wall he could see partially unpacked boxes. She had plans for the future and it appeared that she wanted to stay at the school. Who was he to interfere with her plans?

He expected to see her reading, even at this late hour. Dropping his pack in the hall, he stepped into the bedroom. He found her asleep; face down, amid a collection of maps and other papers. He walked to the head of the bed and squatted down to get a better look. She wore a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, underneath that she was covered, head to toe, in a body stocking. Extending a hand, he carefully pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her face.

Letting his hand rest in her hair, he studied her for a moment. She had definitely changed in the year he was gone. The gauntness of eight months on the road was replaced by a curvy figure. She was still pale, but her skin had a healthy glow now.

He could do this. He would make sure that her happiness came first. He shook his head in an effort to clear away the rising desire that her closeness brought. Sighing heavily, he stood to leave her room.

"Logan, sugar? Is that you?"

His mouth went dry at the soft southern drawl. The sleepy way his name tumbled from her lips sent his blood racing. He cleared his throat before answering. "Yeah, kid. Go back to sleep."

Turning over, she stretched lazily, arching her back. Panic rose to the surface as he watched. He was already struggling with the need to touch her. He wanted to run his tongue across her lush lips, down her slender throat and lower still. His self-restraint was going to be pushed to the limit in the near future.

Rubbing her eyes, she stumbled off the bed to stand before him. He gave her a lopsided grin that she returned. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hallway.

"Come on, I saved a piece of cake for you."

He let himself be lead down to the kitchen and seated at the table. She pulled a serving platter from the refrigerator loaded with four very large pieces of sheet cake. He started laughing when she stopped to get a fork.

"Darlin', you better grab yourself a fork. That's a lot more than one piece of cake."

She tapped the side of her head with the handles of the forks. "Your eyes are bigger than your real stomach. That and something I didn't catch about frosting."

He made no comment. He didn't need sexual thoughts about Marie and frosting at that moment. She sat down next to him, placing the cake between them. He listened contently to her talk about happenings at the school over the past year while they ate. Then she began asking about his time away. He was truthful, but skipped over information about women and several not so legal jobs he did.

She took a final bite and set down her fork. "That's it, I'm full."

He leaned over to wipe away frosting from the corner of her mouth. He heard her breathing stop, hesitating only a fraction of an inch from her lip. He didn't sense that she was frightened of his closeness, but she was nervous.

"It's okay. I can control it for a couple of minutes."

He carefully swept his finger along her warm skin. He was fantasizing what it would feel like for her to lick the frosting off his finger when she caught his wrist in her gloved hand. She pulled his hand back toward her mouth. He stared in awe as she licked the frosting from his finger with the tip of her tongue. All the blood in his body began to rush south. She inspected his hand and then decisively sucked the remaining sugar from the affected digit. With a intriguing smile, she let go of his wrist and rose to clear the table.

This wasn't playing out like it was suppose to. Her body language and scent were calling to him. And if he wasn't mistaken, she was making a pass at him. He couldn't think of any other reason for her to suck on his finger like that.

He followed her back upstairs after she put everything away. He planned on seeing her to her room, then hunting down one of the guest rooms for the night. Upon reaching her room, she snatched up his pack and carried it in with her. He started after her to collect his bag, but she closed the door after he entered. Marie's plans seemed to be at odds with his.

"You can stay in here for the night, that way you don't have to hunt down a room."

He was becoming concerned that she had absorbed a telepath in his absence. "That's not such a good idea, Marie."

She glanced up from cleaning off the bed. "Why not? It's comfy and plenty big enough." She bounced on the bed slightly.

He quickly averted his eyes from her swaying breasts. Once again he found it necessary to clear his throat before speaking. "I should get settled in my own room."

"I won't hog the bed or steal the covers. Oh, do you sleep in the nude?" She said blushing prettily, but continued. "I mean, if you do, it's okay. I can sleep in the body stocking, so you don't have to worry about any accidents."

He swallowed hard, sexual thoughts entered his mind, this time of a 'body stocking naked' Marie in bed. He was starting to worry about his physical health. He was going to be in serious trouble if his brain didn't quit sending chemical signals to his body. He scrubbed a hand over his face in an effort to clear his mind. This was not going to work; there was no way that he could stay in this room with her. The self-restraint that would demand would drive him insane.

Apparently tired of waiting for his answer, she hopped from the bed and turned off the lights. She shoved him to the bed and ordered him to sit. She pulled his boots off and placed them at the head of the bed by his other things. When she finished she pushed him flat on the bed and sat astride his hips. Leaning over him, she placed a hand on either side of his head.

"Look Logan. We can do this one of two ways. One: I can keep throwing sexual innuendo at you. Or two: You can tell me straight out if you came back for me. Personally, I am tired of getting no reaction from option one and two will just save a lot of time."

"I should have known from the minute I found you in my trailer that you preferred I be straightforward with you." She froze above him and he saw the doubt creep into her eyes. "I'm not going to interrupt your plans. Your future comes first. If you want to stay here and go to college or whatever..."

Her smile returned. "My future lies with you. Everything else is secondary. The only plans I made were to be with you, the other was done to keep the teaching staff off my back."

"Marie, I don't want you to take this lightly. Your...." He trailed off as she sat up and began to unbutton his flannel shirt. Once more his blood began to make the journey south. He immediately wrapped his hands around her wrists to stop her progress and help him focus. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, I'm good at multi-tasking." Her smile took on a seductive quality and she began to giggle. "Is that your belt buckle or are you just happy to see me?"

"Marie, I'm serious."

She flopped down on the bed next to him. "I know, so am I. Isn't it enough that I want you?"

He rolled onto his side to see her better. "You want me?"

"Well, yeah. I mean isn't that what this is all about? You and me....you know.... doing it?"

"No." Was all she wanted from him sex? He hadn't thought about Marie as a one-night stand. He anticipated a long-term commitment of one kind or another, friendship or lovers. She deserved something stable, well as stable as he could provide. He just didn't know if he could fuck her and walk away.

"You don't love me, Logan? I…I thought you did." Her confusion was plainly written on her face.

He felt like slamming his head against the wall. "We definitely need to talk, Marie."

"So, talk."

He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. He didn't know where to begin or if it would even come out right. He reopened his eyes to find her studying him.

"Logan, why don't we do this kind of like twenty questions? I'll start by asking you a question, and then it's your turn. Only rule is, no lying or covering things up." She continued after he nodded in agreement. "First. Do you love me?"

"That's the only thing I'm sure of anymore. You?"

"I love you too." She met him halfway for a quick kiss. Resting back on the bed, she smiled. "Two. Did you come back to take me with you to Canada?"

"Yes. But...you have plans for college?"

"My plans consisted of hopping on the back of your bike and going to Canada. I did sign up for a few college classes here locally, but I don't even know if I really want to go." He realized that she had returned to undoing his shirt again. He made no move to stop her this time. "Three. Can we have sex now?"

He growled at her, that didn't fit into a serious discussion. He knew once he gave into her, things may never get figured out, at least not in the immediate future. "No." She looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes and a pouty lower lip stuck out. He quickly sucked on her lip and tugged on it gently with his teeth. Drawing back he watched as her lips curl into a smile. "That's no fair, darlin', you're trying to distract me."

Her smile turned impish. "Is it working?"

He grunted and pressed his erection into her thigh. "You decide, because it's my turn to ask a question. Why are you in such a hurry to have sex?"

Her hands quit roaming his chest under the t-shirt. Her expression took on a deadly serious edge, there was no amusement left. "For heaven's sake, I'm the oldest virgin this school has. If I wanted just sex, I surely could have found a willing participate by now. With you it won't be just sex. Will it?"

''Not with you, Marie." Her smiled returned and she began resuming her explorations. "But it won't be just one time, I don't think I could give you up." Logan added.

"That was all part of the plan, sugar. No more question, they can wait until morning. It's time for you to shut up and kiss me."

~*~