Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry there's no Logan in this one. I'm saving him for a special occasion (namely the last part!)
It was early evening and the mansion was settling down for the night. Lessons were over, supper had been eaten, and the youngest residents were tucked up in bed.

Still recovering from their nasty hangovers, and in Kitty's case, a healthy dose of post traumatic shock, the three girls had navigated their sore heads to the rec room, where they were sagged out in front of the TV with the guys.

Jubilee was flicking through channels listlessly, her concentration span even shorter than usual. Rogue was sat quietly by her side, her brown-eyed stare glazing over as she tried very hard not to think about the night before. If anyone could hear her random mutterings of 'it didn't happen, it didn't happen. If I don't believe in it, it won't be true,' then they said nothing. Denial was a wonderful thing.

Kitty, on the other hand, had barely spoken a word all night. She simply sat very still in one of the deep backed armchairs, making a valiant effort to stay awake; her eyelids drooping and every now and then as her head nodded towards her chest. No one laughed at her. Under the circumstances it was just too cruel.

John and Bobby were deep in the middle of a heated Rachel or Monica from Friends debate, despite the fact that everyone suspected they'd both go for Joey given half the chance, when Scott appeared in the doorway. He looked a little...well. ..odd (alice-band over the eyes aside).

Rogue glanced up, curious. He started to say something, but then stopped, a frown briefly marking his forehead. He shifted uncomfortably on the spot; leaning back to look long and hard down the corridor, as if he was hoping it would lead somewhere else for a change. Narnia perhaps?

After several long minutes however, and no sign of temporal displacement or the White Witch, he reluctantly gave up. He turned instead to those watching the TV, who, by now, were all watching him with interest.

He sighed, and put on his best I'm-a-serious- teacher expression. A vision only slightly marred by the way his voice cracked when he eventually spoke. 'Rogue,' he squeaked, then coughed and thumped his chest in what he hoped was a manly fashion. 'Rogue,' he tried again, this time much deeper. A muscle twitched in his left cheek. 'May I have a word?'

Rogue shrugged, puzzled. 'Sure.' She followed him out into the corridor, then along to his office, when she realised where he was headed. Must be something serious, she thought.

Then realisation dawned. Oh God, what if he had found out about last night? Ok, she was legal to drink, but drunken and disorderly behaviour was strictly frowned upon by the fearless leader. And give the girl an A-grade; she had excelled at both last night.

She dragged her feet, expecting a right telling off.

When they reached his office however, instead of shouting at her, Scott was suddenly restless. He held the door open just long enough for her to enter, sneaking a quick glance out into the corridor, before closing it hastily behind them.

He pulled out his chair and sat down. Then he took a moment to study her through his glasses, got up again, and hovered nervously behind his desk. The view outside the window suddenly became very interesting as he shuffled some papers into a neat pile, carefully lining up each of the corners, before fanning them out again like a deck of cards. Then he tapped his fingers a few times on the hardwood surface, drumming an edgy pattern that seemed to make him even more tense.

Rogue watched the whole scene unfold with disbelief. Had he forgotten she was here? She coughed subtly and he jumped as if given an electric shock, cracking his knee on the desk and scattering the papers sideways.

This was not good.

'Uh, Rogue,' he began, somewhat awkwardly, fishing around blindly for his strewn work. His fingers found a stapler instead and he clutched it to him as if it was some sort of lifeline.

No, this was really not good.

'I...uh...understand that it's important to, uh, explore and...well.. .value feelings.' He looked at the stapler as if he had only just noticed its existence, but somehow couldn't bring himself to put it back down.

'And you know that I, uh, respect you as a friend...and as a fellow x-man.'

Rogue looked at him strangely. 'Yes,' she said slowly, even more baffled than when she had walked into the room. Was Scott blushing? Surely his cheeks weren't naturally that colour? Unless he was wearing makeup.

A fully made-up Scott image, complete with glossy lipstick pout and clutched handbag, minced its way into her head. She fought back the urge to giggle. It would be most inappropriate.

'And I'm...uh...flattered that you uh...' he swallowed uncomfortably, '...however, it's just not...practical. '

'Practical?' What was he talking about?

'Maybe practical was not the right word,' he babbled. 'I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt your feelings. It's just that there's Jean, and, well...' He trailed off, obviously mistaking her nonplussed expression for something else. 'Maybe if circumstances had been different,' he tried.

'Different?'

He frowned, and passed her a slip of paper. 'Here. I think you'd better take this back.' He almost bolted from the room, stapler and all. 'Sorry,' he called over his shoulder, not sounding it in the least, and leaving Rogue standing completely bewildered, clutching at the note in her hand.

Confused, she unfolded the white paper, absorbing the words that were scrawled across its surface. She froze in a dawning realisation of what had just happened.

'JUBILATION LEE, I AM GONNA *KILL* YOU!'




If life was at all fair, then the ground would have opened up and gobbled Jubilee whole, spitting only the yellow bits out. At the very least, her skirt would have ripped, or her bra straps snapped. But life was not fair, fate was a bitch, and Jubilee was as content as she had left her.

'Hey Rogue,' she said, completely oblivious to her friend's mood, totally ensconced in the drama unfolding on the TV instead.

Rogue ground her teeth. 'I. Am going. To kill you.' She glared. 'Slowly. Over and over again. And then some more.'

Jubilee looked up. 'Huh?' That did not sound like a happy Rogue.

'Would you care to explain *why* exactly, Scott just took me aside and apologised for not returning my feelings?'

Jubilee froze. 'Scott?' she said weekly.

'I've been doing a little detective work. Apparently he was given a note while he was covering Logan's defence class.'

'Um. I can explain-'

'And now he seems to think that I-' she looked at something written on the piece of paper in her hand, '-want to hear him moan in my ear while I lick his...*what*?!' Her eyes widened. 'That's not even a freaking WORD!'

Kitty snickered, the first sign of life from her since the professor had wheeled past her table during supper. She had nearly passed out. They'd had to grab her before she phased into the foundations.

'It is too a word,' she nodded meaningfully, the slightly wild look in her eye the only sign that all was not well in Kitty-land. 'Especially if you're tall, dark and handsome and called Rafe or Marc,' she giggled. 'Or Trent. Especially Trent. Then you get to use that word a lot. Usually amongst other words like throbbing and hot.'

'Huh?' John sat up and suddenly became very interested in the conversation. 'Whaddyamean? '

'Well, you see,' Kitty leant forward conspiratively. 'Rafe meets...lets say...Jessica. Jessica has to work for Rafe, but Rafe is a playboy tyrant and/or confirmed bachelor. Jessica hates Rafe because she has *principles* . But one day Rafe walks into the office looking dishevelled and proceeds to act masterfully. Jessica swoons. They have sex, declare undying hatred, argue, declare undying love, and then get married.' She smiled happily at the thought, not noticing the odd glances sent her way.

Bobby just stared open mouthed. His eyes darted nervously to the others. 'Is she ok? Did she hit her head last night?'

'Worse,' a wicked grin spread across John's face. 'How is the Professor by the way?'

Kitty paled slightly.

'Did he enjoy his-'

'Stop it!' yelled Rogue. 'Leave her alone, else she'll never recover. And stop changing the subject! We were talking about my life disaster, not Kitty's.' She glared at John, then very pointedly at Jubilee, who was trying so hard to sink back into the chair, she was nearly through the other side.

Rogue fixed her with a stare she could have only picked up from Logan. The growl didn't help either. 'What do you have to say for yourself? Hmm?'

'Oops?' tried Jubilee. She looked a lot like she was trying not to giggle.

'*Oops!* OOPS?! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?!'

'It was supposed to be for Logan,' Jubilee squeaked.

'Logan?' Bobby was confused. 'But then who's Rafe?'

Rogue opened her mouth, ready to let loose a torrent of yellow-themed abuse, but at that comment, she shut it. She looked at him in disbelief. 'Are you serious?'

John was giving her the 'you think your problems are bad. I have to room with him' look, and she rolled her eyes, before throwing her hands up in surrender.

'I don't know why I'm even bothering. I give up. GIVE. UP. I'm gonna leave the country, change my name, and become one of those mad women with lots of cats. It's the only chance I have at a normal life.' She slumped in the chair, head held in her hands. 'Because lets be honest, how am I ever gonna face him again?'

'Logan?'

'No Scott!'

Jubilee tried her hardest to keep a straight face. She failed, quite miserably. 'He, um, turned you down flat then?'

Rogue shrugged and spoke through her fingers. 'Actually, he said that he was with Jean, but if circumstances had been different... '

Now it was her turn to stare. 'Really?'

And damn it if she didn't sound a bit jealous.
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