"Bring me something while you're out!" Rogue yelled. She watched Wolverine disappear down the hall before stomping into the lab. Glancing at Hank, she flopped down in one of the chairs, pouting.
Hank didn't look up, but she could see the little smile he didn't bother to hide. It reminded her of the smile her parents gave her when she was a child and they thought she was being unreasonable. She was not a child anymore and she didn't like Wolverine and Hank treating her as such.
"Don't need a babysitter." She tried to glare at Hank, but it was too hard. He was always nice to her and despite what she'd been thinking had never treated her like a child.
Finally, she walked over to see what he was doing and if he needed help. It would be hours before Wolverine returned. She preferred to keep busy and Hank was always doing something interesting.
"Where does Wolverine go every week?" she asked after a while. Without fail, once a week Wolverine dumped her off at Hank's lab to stay while he went out. She knew the reason she stayed with Hank was for protection.
It seemed odd to her that she'd been with the X-Men a whole month and they still didn't know what she needed protecting from. She didn't need any extra protection when she was on her own. Ms. Frost assured her that she was just hard to read, but given time people would have found her. It was all vague and based on rumors.
Not that Rogue would complain. She had three hots and a couch and got along with a couple of the women her age. In trade, she did chores and trained with Wolverine.
"That is a conversation best had with Wolverine." Good old Hank, always directing you back to the source.
"I tried," she whined. "He was all, you're staying with Hank and that's that." She felt the anger rise up again.
"Did you approach the conversation like an adult or a petulant child?" he asked. That smile had returned and he glanced at her over the top of his glasses.
Sighing heavily, she thought it over. There had been no tantrum like a two-year-old, but she'd demanded to go with him. That, in turn, caused Wolverine to ignore her and she'd shut down the conversation before it could even begin.
Rogue had assumed he went out drinking and having a good time. Even if he was, she had no right demanding anything of him. He'd taken her in and made a place for her in his life. He treated her well and she'd repaid him poorly. Leaving her with Hank was the one thing he needed her to do without throwing a fit.
The more she thought about it, the less likely it was that Wolverine was out partying. He wasn't some young idiot out to have a good time. If he wanted a drink he wouldn't leave at all. There was some other reason he went out and it wasn't about having a good time.
What bothered Rogue more is how easily she had fallen into acting like her mother. Her father had gone out once a week with his buddies. The house was always filled with arguing before he left for the night. Her parent's way of handling problems had landed her on the street. There was no reason to perpetuate their faults by casting Wolverine and herself in their roles.
Familiar footsteps echoing down the hall woke Rogue from her light sleep. She quickly got up and straightened her shirt checking to make sure she didn't have drool on her face. Hank was still at one of the work surfaces completely immersed in a project.
Putting on a smile she waited for Wolverine in the doorway. She was glad he was back; she could now go to sleep in their room. There was something else, a feeling she couldn't identify and it only manifested itself when he was around. Belonging was the closest she could get, or maybe comfort was the word, comfort that came from being accepted.
She had her apology ready; instead, she caught a bundle Wolverine threw at her. Unfolding it she was surprised by an old green, wool army trench coat. She slipped it on. It was late summer and way too warm, but the coat fit right and would be perfect for the winter. She was a little embarrassed because she hadn't really expected him to bring her anything. Especially after the way she delivered the 'request'.
Wolverine stopped long enough to toss Hank a small box. "Thanks for watching the kid."
Hank's eyes widened. "Where did you get these?"
"Rex got a shipment of them by mistake. Make me fight an extra bout for the last box." Wolverine glanced over at Rogue. The extra round had been worth it if her smile was anything to go by. "Don't eat'em all at once," he commented to Hank.
"No, indeed I will not."
Rogue followed Wolverine out of the lab as Hank carefully opened his box of Twinkies.
"Thanks," she said still admiring the coat. "Nobody's ever…" she trailed off. Her parents had always made it sound like a burden when she needed new clothes. They would never have thought to get her anything before she needed it.
"Don't mention it." Wolverine didn't know what young women liked, but when he saw the coat it seemed like something she could use.
"I'm sorry…about earlier." He grunted in acceptance of her apology. "Where do you go every Friday?" The one thing she hadn't tried was being straightforward about the whole business. Or like an adult as Hank put it.
"Old buddy runs some fights." They hadn't talked about his Friday night gig. He was the house fighter at Rex's place. It was his way of earning his keep.
Rogue thought about it. The old military coat, the wool blankets, and other surplus supplies. She even knew Peter and a couple of others went to a Rex for supplies every week.
"You must do well to keep us all clothed and fed."
"I do fine, but not near enough to keep this place running." It was enough to supply some basics and the occasional hard to find parts. The rest was up to Scott and Emma and whatever financial dealings they did.
"How many fights did you have tonight?" She knew he was gone several hours and wondered what kind of toll that put on his healing factor.
"I usually do eight or so. Not many last more than ten or fifteen minutes. Tonight I did an extra round." He closed the door to their room and sat heavily down on the bed.
"The round for Hank's Twinkies," she mused out loud. She hung her coat on one of the hooks behind the door. Examining it closer, she realized that is was in excellent condition. That extra round wasn't just for a box of sponge cakes; he'd fought for her coat too.
"You must be exhausted." Not that anyone would notice, Wolverine always seemed to be unchanged by …well anything.
He shrugged. "Healing factor," he said, before lying back on the bed.
"But still…" It wasn't her place to comment on his state of mind. Looking over at him, she decided she could at least do something practical for him. She bent down and began to unlace his boots.
"I'll get'em later," he said sleepily.
Ignoring him, she continued, taking care of his boots and socks like she'd seen him do. Rogue glanced at him, twitching slightly as he fell asleep. Maybe she should pull the blanket over him or something before she lay down.
He looked so peaceful right now. No one would guess he spent his evening being knocked around to keep them all a float. He was the gruff loner who had made room for them all in his life. She owed him so much for the past month of comfortable living.
On impulse, Rogue grabbed the old plastic dishpan from under the sink and filled it with warm soapy water. She placed it at the end of the bed then filled another container with clean water and taking a towel kneeled down by his feet. She remembered her granny washing granpappy's feet after a day in the field. It always seemed like such a nice thing to do for someone, a way to show your appreciation for all they did during the day.
Wolverine's eyes popped open and he was wide-awake. "Rogue?"
"Is the water too cold?" Her voice was as soft and soothing as her hands on his feet.
"No…you don't…" He didn't really want her to stop. He should tell her no because it oddly felt like he was taking advantage of her.
"Shh, Sugar, just relax," she cooed, sweet and low. He knew it was meant to calm like a mother would a child, but that was not the effect she was having on him.
The ceiling was suddenly very interesting as he tried to think about everything besides what Rogue was doing. The way her hands skimmed over his feet and how glad he was that she stopped at his ankles. There was a tension building in his body at the thought of her soft hands moving along the rest of him in the same manner. He had to bite the inside of his cheek so the pain would chase away the rising desire.
It had been so long since he'd felt this way toward anyone. Having her under his protection had sparked something in him. The way she watched him and how eager she was to please him during training sessions, struck at his heart. He'd tried to put it down to familial feelings, but with this, he could no longer fool himself.
Wolverine watched her from under heavily hooded eyes as she put everything away. He concentrated on his breathing, keeping it even, letting her believe nothing had changed. She turned off the lamp and lay down on the couch to sleep. He knew his own sleep would not be peaceful, but instead filled with dreams of her.
~*~
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000