My life, it sucks. You have no idea.

...Okay, most of the issues occurred yesterday in what Scott is now referring to as 'The Incident'. And believe me, when he says it? It's capitalised.

And yes, I'm well aware that I live in a mansion, have super powers, my own income, and, let's face it, awesome hair. But that aside, this is my pity party, so if I say it sucks. Then it sucks.

Kinda.

Okay, maybe it doesn't suck per-se.

It would certainly suck much less if I had the courage to ever leave my room again. I mean, I like my personal space, but a lifetime of Jubes blasting Gangham style through our adjoining wall? It's not for me. Plus, I'm pretty damn hungry.

I huff out a sigh, flop back on my bed and contemplate how I'm going to die loveless and alone. Pure and untouched. Well... aside from that brief thing with Remy. Oh, and that failed fumble with Bobby in the hall closet a few months ago... wow, what was I thinking?

So, let's clarify. My life doesn't really suck, and 'untouched' would probably get me sued under the Trade Descriptions Act. Whatever. Can we concentrate on my tale of epic woe, here?

What you have to understand was that it wasn't my fault. Not really. Or... maybe only slightly.

You see, I may have overstepped some boundaries. Done some things I shouldn't have. Just a few. Nothing major. Teensy insignificant things, really. Y'know, when you compare them to nuclear fallout. Or world hunger.

...The end of the Universe as we know it, maybe?

Okay, I'm not even convincing myself here. Let me start at the beginning...

Yesterday. It all started so innocently.

It was the evening of our Summer Ball. I'd spent an entire day with Jubes helping her choose the right shade of yellow dress. A whole day of yellow dress shopping. Any idea what that can do to a person? So I admit, by the time evening had rolled round, I'd already had a few drinks. I took my time getting ready. I spent over an hour on my hair alone, making it carefully look like I'd just rolled out of bed with Logan. Oh it's a look, believe me. I've seen many girls stagger out his rooms the next morning wearing it. He's such a man-whore. It would be annoying if it wasn't quite so... frustrating. And he didn't have such a fine ass.

And while we're on the subject, I hate his ass. His stupid adamantium-laced, firm, encased in tight, tight jeans... slung low on his hips, no shirt... thin line of hair trailing down to... yeah I hate his ass.

Dammit.

Where was I...?

Oh yeah. Man-whore.

Unfortunately, just rolled with Logan has never been my style, seeing as Logan has me wrapped up in a hazmat suit and ten yards of police tape in his head with a big flashing 'do not the fuck cross this line' sign at my feet. I hate that sign. Come on, I'm legal, I'm not hideous, hell, that's Logan's entire check list right there. Okay, anyone who touches me, dies... but what's life without a little danger, hmm? Besides. He heals. The only way it could have been more obvious we were meant to be together, was if Fate had scrawled across his forehead in black marker, 'Yo Rogue, this is the one for you, sister. Check out the ass.' Because, let's face it, even Fate would notice that baby.

So, last night, the Summer Ball. I had decided it was high time I stamped on the 'do not the fuck cross this line' sign. Spent half my bank balance on a gorgeous dark green dress. Strappy little shoes that looked like heaven and burned like the fires of hell before I'd even left my room. Even my nails were done underneath my gauzy gloves.

It had all started off so well.

Jubes had poked her head around my door just after seven. 'Hey, you ready?'

I gave her a twirl. 'What do you think?'

'Nice hair,' Jubes said, cracking her gum. 'You look like you just fell outta bed with the Wolvermachine.'

See? Told ya.

The party itself was average. Jean didn't turn up, still working on something at the lab. Scott was there venting his frustration at being stood up on anyone who showed signs of enjoying themselves. Hank was bopping away on the dance floor, oblivious. 'Ro was using her powers to make her hair flow back from her face in a rippling breeze, looking like she was permanently in a Beyonce video wherever she walked. Seriously, why couldn't I have got those powers instead? The Professor was in his study schmoozing donations out of rich guys. 'Course, he always denies he uses his telepathic powers to help, but, well, lets just say that the money flows in suspiciously easily and I don't think it's all down to his natural charisma.

And Logan? Well, he was in a tux. I kid you not. A full out, black, beautifully cut, perfectly fitting, ass-hugging tux. Did I mention the ass-hugging? Mmm. And he was in a hell of a pissy mood about it.

In fact, the only time I saw Scott smirk all evening was when Logan walked past him practically shooting claws from his eyes.

'Lost bet,' Jubes whispered to me. 'Logan bet Scott he could make it through a whole day without making a student cry.'

'What happened?'

'That little kid? The one who can zap bugs?'

Now there's a power you could exploit to the wider market. Don't like mutants? Have you tried having one on your porch on a muggy summers eve...? 'Raid?'

'That's the one. Logan threw a spider at him. Totally missed. It landed in Mary-Jane's hair. Apparently the screams could be heard all the way down the hall.'

Whatever. I made a mental note to thank Scott later. There was something deliciously wrong about seeing an unshaven, disgruntled Logan in a tux. Especially as he still managed to make it look cool. Also? Ass. Hug.

Anyway. So the party went on. Music, drinks, dancing. Awkward eye-contact. You know the drill. And at the at the prime time of 11.35, just when the music was starting to slow and the dancing was more about groping your partner whilst under the pretence of swaying from side to side, Logan came over to see me. Yep, me. Not Jean, not 'Ro, not the hot waitress hired by the catering company... seriously, like I need more competition? But me.

And he was giving me the 'Look'. The eyebrow, slight smirk, definitely interested, potential-grope-on-the-dance-floor, look.

That, of course, was the exact moment the emergency mental call came through from the Professor calling the team to the flight bay at once.

Woo-fuckin-hoo.

So that was the first part of my life-suckage. Yeah, yeah, I know, it's not as if I lost a leg or anything, but you'd be pissed too.

Logan disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke. Literally. Seconds later he was stood with Kurt by the bar getting one for the road. Jubes took one look at my expression, slung her vile tasting green drink on a nearby table, and dragged me down to the lower levels before I started kicking and screaming.

And that's when things really started to go wrong.

'Where are our suits?' In the locker room, 'Ro was staring at her empty hanger as if waiting long enough would make the suit magically appear.

Scott strode in, looking even more annoyed than he had at the party, if it was at all possible. 'Still in laundry from the training exercise yesterday.'

Jubes cracked her gum again. 'Seriously? Well how come yours is okay?'

'I have a spare,' Scott said. He was already dressed in his. I'm not entirely sure how that was possible. Did he have hidden super-clothing speeds we were previously unaware of? Maybe it was underneath his summer ball outfit all this time, and he just ripped the outer layers off in a superman-in-a-phone-booth fashion. That would be nice. For all his foibles, Scott is rather nice to look at. The thought of him ripping anything off is kind of... distracting...

Hormones, please go back in your box. Stay there until you're needed. Thank you.

'Of course you do.' 'Ro sighed, dragging my thoughts out of the gutter and back to reality. She dug around in her locker and came up with a pair of neon pink sweat pants and a t-shirt that said 'I'm with stupid'. 'This'll have to do.'

'And I suppose I'll just have to go in what I'm wearing then,' said Jubes, smoothing her little yellow dress fondly. 'I knew it was a good idea to wear flats.'

Well, there was no way I was taking my half-my-bank-balance-dress to get wrecked in a fight. Hell, I was already getting jumpy about the thought of it getting creased on the plane. 'Y'know what, I'll just get my suit out the laundry and wear it anyway. I'm sure it'll be fine.'

'Wasn't yours damaged?'

Oh. Yeah, I'd forgotten about that.

Scott frowned. 'Your replacement isn't due until Tuesday. You'll have to wear something from the spare locker.'

Oh God. It was like gym class at school all over again. The spare locker. It was not a thing to take on lightly, especially not without S.W.A.T. backup. It loomed like a monolith of promised shame, towering over me from it's sweaty smelling corner of the changing room. I sized it up. Wondered if I could take it on and win. 'Ummm... Y'know I'm not feeling all that well...?' I tried.

Scott just gave me a look. Even through his visor it would have withered lesser mutants.

Eyeroll. 'Yeah okay, gimme the damn spare already.' I made my way over, hoping like hell for a bit of good luck. A hoodie and sweats, that would do. Or jeans. I could fight in jeans.

I found only a blanket, a single sneaker, a pair of neatly pressed chinos that looked like they might possibly just about fit a five year old. Oh, and a couple of rows of dated spandex.

'Try the green and yellow one,' Scott called over his shoulder. 'Should fit.'

See? Suckage.

Still, between that and the half-my-bank-balance-dress, the spandex was far more expendable. Cursing under my breath, I started clambering in to the thing. 'Jesus, does this thing even have a zipper?' I swear I got my head through the arm hole three times before Jubes had to come and untangle me.

'Where the fuck are my damn leathers?'

Enter Logan. Stage left.

'You wrecked them yesterday during the training exercise Logan.' Scott had his lecture voice on. 'Remember the liquid nitrogen?'

Hell, I did. That steamy coldness that had spilled all over him? He froze, he healed, the suit shattered. Best damn way I've ever seen anyone get undressed. Period.

'You know, those suits cost us.' Scott was still going. 'You should really take better care of them.'

Oh, but it had been so pretty.

'Wear something from the spare locker.'

Logan just grunted. 'Fuck that. I've seen what's in there. Look at Rogue. Looks like she's been slapped round the head by the spandex fairy.

All evening I had waited for him to notice what I was wearing, and that was my moment? Suckage numero three. Screw you, life.

In the end, by the time we made it onto the jet we were a motley crew. Scott was the only one properly dressed. Jean was still in her lab coat, Hank in an old pair of jeans he'd found in the back of his locker and a jacket that was two sizes too small and wouldn't do up. Bobby, who arrived late, in his jeans and a rather tight pink 'hello kitty' t-shirt that was obviously Kitty's. Kitty didn't show up at all. Jubes was in her dress, Ro in her sweats. Logan in his tux. And me in my stretchy homage to the early nineties.

I know what you're thinking, are laundry issues really enough to justify 'The Incident'? But, you see, the evening was only just beginning.

'Pick up is a white male, fourteen or fifteen years of age, mutation unknown.'

Scott's briefings were never very exciting at the best of times, but they did usually convey useful information, so I figured I'd better listen. Logan's briefings were shorter, but more along the 'yeah, there's a kid and some bad guys. Get the kid and fuck up the bad guys. And someone get me a damn beer.'

'He's being held in a warehouse just outside of the city limits. Last report we had of number of hostiles is unclear, so expect the worst. We should be there in fifteen. Anyone have any questions?'

'Is the mutant dangerous.'

'Unknown,' said Scott.

'What's the terrain like?'

'Unknown.'

'Anyone got any questions he can actually answer?' Logan smirked.

I swear Scott's hand twitched at his visor.

It wasn't the most exciting journey, so I'll skip over that part. When we landed, that's when things started to get really weird.

It was an abandoned warehouse. The kind with the chain link fence and the snarling guard dogs. A couple of sleeping pills and a steak later however, and they were snoring guard dogs. I don't always give Jean credit, but it sure is useful having a doctor on the team.

Scott bought out a pair of wire cutters and began snipping a meticulously neat hole at ground level. Logan waited until Scott was about half way through, then sliced a gaping slash next to him in a matter of seconds. An eat-shit smirk, and he peeled it back, gesturing for the rest of the team to step through. Scott's lips compressed into a tight line, and I could feel the glare he shot at Logan's back without even looking.

I'll say one thing for spandex, it was surprisingly comfy. None of that annoying chafing you get with the leathers. I started to re-evaluate my original harsh opinion of my outfit as I followed the others inside. There was only the one entrance to the building, so there was no sense in splitting up.

Scott stood flush to the wall, counted down from three on his fingers, then pointed to the door. 'Now!' he said, in a hushed whisper.

No one did anything.

Scott glared. 'Logan. The door?'

'You what, bub?' Logan sounded distracted.

'You're supposed to break down the door?'

'Yeah... I'll just get on that...'

'Stop staring at Rogue's ass and get on with it then!'

I had a little moment of shock and disbelief. Then awesomeness. He was staring at my ass? Score two for the spandex. I wasn't ever gonna take it off again!

'Um guys?' Jubes interjected between a mouthful of gum. 'The door's, like, unlocked?' She stepped up to it, wiggled the handle a few times to make her point. 'See?' She gave it a gentle push and it swung open on it's hinges, giving the most almighty loud creak as it went. We all froze to the spot.

'Bobby, that is not helpful...'

'Sorry, panicked.' Bobby looked sheepish. Which is more than Logan looked, even though he'd been caught in the act of staring at my ass. He just gave me a smirk and threw a brief, 'Y'know kid, that outfit's growin' on me,' comment my way.

Well, that was awkward. Not the Logan thing, although that left me all red cheeked and buzzed up on a heady combo of adrenalin and hormones. No, it was the fact that we'd all come to raid the place, the door was wide open and none of us could move.

Hank started humming a little tune. Ro stared up a the night sky. Jean got a little notepad out of her lab coat pocket and began scribbling one or two things down.

'Fuck this,' said Logan, and began smashing his way out of the ice surrounding his feet. It took him a few goes, but he was free. Scott, not to be outdone, used the smallest beam of his power he could manage, carefully heating the ice like a precision laser. It took a while, and between them made a lot of noise, but eventually we were all free.

The question we were all thinking was where were all the guards?

'You sure we came to the right place?' Logan peered in to the warehouse beyond as he spoke. 'Seems empty.'

A flicker of doubt crossed Scott's face, but it had gone before it barely had time to register. 'Inside,' he beckoned to everyone.

The place was rather nondescript. Far from the dank holes with leaking pipes and atmospheric steam, or suspiciously marked wooden crates stacked up to the ceiling we usually end up in, once we'd got through the entrance hallway, past a disused office to the right, we were in a big white washed room, with a sofa, two chairs, and a small grey metal door at the far end. It was completely empty.

Scott went first. Quiet. Logan had his back. They may snipe and jerk at each other, but they'd defend each other well enough in a fight. Well, after the first few blows anyway.

We all fanned out around the grey door. Even I could hear noise behind it. This time when Scott did his three, two, one countdown, Logan took it far more seriously. The door was ripped off it's hinges, all of us hunched ready to fight. I got a glimpse of a huddled, frightened face, then...

Blankness. Utter blankness. The kind that was white, then dark, and had your eyes rolling back into your head as you blacked out completely.

And when I woke up, I had absolutely no idea who I was.