"I think Rogue is cheating on me," Logan said, causing Jean to jump in surprise. He'd tracked her down in her office, and dropped the bomb without warning.
"What? Why? How? Who?"
"She's been disappearing a lot lately. At regular times. Like she's got an appointment or something, but who has appointments at nine, ten o'clock at night? And when she gets back, she smells of cigarettes and beer and--" He stopped.
"Go on."
"And well, Cyke." At her blank look, he said, "She smells like Cyke."
Jean's mouth opened and closed in shock. Finally, she said, "I -- I don't know what to say."
He nodded, pacing the room, feeling like a trapped animal.
"At first I thought they were training together or something, but they're not in the Danger Room or the gym. And they're always gone at the same time. So--"
"Scott's not cheating on me, Logan," Jean insisted. "I'd know it if he were."
Poor Jeannie, he thought. So blind, so in love. "I'm following them tonight. They leave separately, but I know they'll end up together. Be in the garage at nine if you want to come with."
He stalked out, leaving Jean alone with her thoughts.
It was Thursday, his usual poker night, but Logan decided to give Rogue one last chance to confess.
Later that evening, he sat on their bed and stared moodily at her as she brushed her hair and chose her earrings. She picked the diamond studs he'd gotten her for her birthday the first year they were together. They'd been so happy then. He'd thought, until last night, when she'd come home with another man's scent on her, that they were still happy.
Apparently not.
The black leather pants she wore hugged her curves enticingly as she bent over to pick up her boots, and her tight black t-shirt accentuated her full breasts. She was gorgeous.
And she was dressing up for someone else.
He came up behind her as she applied her lipstick -- a dark wine color that made her pale skin glow. He put his hands on her shoulders and nuzzled at her neck.
"God, you smell good."
"Mmm, thanks."
His hands slid down to her hips, pulling her flush against him. Mine, he thought savagely. Not Cyke's.
Squeezing her hip, he said, "Why don't we stay in tonight?"
She giggled, rubbing her ass against him. "I'd love to, but I have plans with the girls." She turned and put her arms around his neck. "And don't you have poker night down at Pete's Tavern?"
He knew her scent in all its variations, and she was nervous, but not fearful. She knew he'd never hurt her.
The same could not be said of One-Eye. After he was done with the Boy Scout, they'd need dental records to identify the body.
He dropped his hands, knuckles itching. "Yeah. Yeah, I do," he growled.
That earned him a concerned look from Marie.
"You all right?"
"Hmph."
She caressed his cheek with a gloved hand and then pressed a quick kiss to his sideburn. "Love you. See you later. Good luck tonight."
She picked up her bag and was gone.
He sank down onto the bed, defeated. She was lying to him now.
That was the one thing they'd never done -- they were always honest with each other, since the day in his truck when they'd shared their real names. Over the years, this honesty might have caused a fight or two, but it had prevented far more than it had caused, he was convinced.
He watched from the window as she drove away. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she wasn't lying.
He went to the kitchen to grab a beer. She was going out with the girls. He could deal with that--
Except that Kitty and Jubilee were in the kitchen with three or four of the younger students, making ice cream sundaes.
His shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Want some ice cream?" Kitty asked. "You look like you could use some cheering up."
"No thanks," he grunted. He wanted to believe in her, but the evidence was all there. She was going out and lying about it. She came home smelling like another man.
The first few times, she'd hopped right in the shower and called for him to join her, and he'd gone eagerly. They had an endless supply of liquid latex for shower play, and he'd gotten used to the feel of it against his skin.
But two nights ago, he'd caught Scott's scent in her hair; he'd been unable to stop thinking of the other man touching her, having her. It was going to drive him mad.
The sound of Scott's bike roaring down the driveway broke into his thoughts.
"Shit." He hustled to the garage so he could follow.
Jean was there, waiting, her face grave.
"Let's go," was all she said. "I know where they are."
They took the BMW and rode silently into the city, stopping finally in front of a bar called Mighty Jim's, down on Union Square.
There were lots of people milling around -- most of them college age, Logan noted distastefully. The crowd around the entrance to the bar parted like the Red Sea for Logan. The sign in front said, "Live Music. No Cover," and as they went down the stairs to the bar, he thought that under other circumstances, he'd probably like the place. At the moment, however, all he could feel was betrayal, pain and rage.
He could also feel Jean radiating calm and comfort beside him as they slid into a booth, and he wondered yet again why anyone would cheat on her.
He was hurt and saddened by Marie's defection, but he'd always known she was too good for him, had always worried about the day she realized she could do better. Have someone younger, better-looking, smarter, not so fucked up. Someone with a past, a future. A name.
But Scott -- he and Jean seemed so happy, so well-suited.
Not that any man wouldn't have to be damn blind and stupid not to give Marie a second, third and fourth look, but -- He still couldn't wrap his mind around it, but he knew what his nose was telling him, and his nose was never wrong.
The waitress brought their beers as he was thinking, and he growled, "I knew I never liked One-Eye."
Jean covered his hand with hers, offering comfort, but she seemed more amused than sad.
They didn't talk.
Jean attempted to discuss various school matters, the current political climate, the Rangers' Cup chances, and the state of her wardrobe, but no subject elicited more than a grunt from Logan, who could barely pay attention to her.
He was too busy scanning the room for a telltale white streak or pair of red shades. He found nothing though, which just made him grumpier. Jean said they were here, so where the hell were they?
He was on his fifth beer and Jean halfway through her second when the jukebox went silent and everybody turned to the small platform in the back of the bar.
A spotlight glinted off red shades, and then there was Rogue, swaying as Scott played the guitar, the two of them huddled together and then she began to sing, words he'd heard a million times before.
"Hello, darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again."
Her voice was good, if not Broadway caliber, and Scott's light tenor complemented her, their voices soaring in harmony as he played his guitar.
After staring transfixed for most of the first verse, Logan turned to Jean. "You knew!"
She shrugged. "It's hard to hide things from a telepath, especially if you're married to one."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"They wanted it to be a surprise."
He turned back to the makeshift stage. One song flowed into the next, and he could tell that the crowd liked the music. For the faster songs, Marie shook her hips and her hair, belting out the lyrics he'd heard her sing in the shower dozens of times.
They played a couple of Beatles songs, and one or two selections from 10,000 Maniacs, and closed with a version of Melissa Etheridge's "Like the Way I Do" that brought down the house.
He was on his feet at the end, pushing his way through the crowd to get to her.
She was talking to someone -- the manager, he guessed -- but she turned the moment he got close.
"Logan!"
"Hey, darlin'."
She looked past him, and he knew Jean had followed in his wake. "You weren't supposed to tell him yet," Rogue said.
Jean shrugged, and Scott threw an arm around her shoulders. "Some secrets aren't meant to be kept."
Rogue laid a hand on Logan's arm. "We wanted it to be a surprise. I hated not telling you, but, well--"
"Why don't we go someplace where we can talk," Scott suggested, gesturing toward the door with his guitar.
They made their way out into the night. Logan's relief at being wrong and his pride at seeing Rogue do well were quickly changing into anger at being lied to and kept in the dark.
By the time they reached the twenty-four hour diner two blocks away, his knuckles were itching. Rogue slid into the booth next to him and smiled apologetically.
"I was going to tell you. Really, I was. But--"
"It was my fault," Scott interrupted.
"No, it wasn't. I made the decision."
"I should have told you not to keep it a secret," Jean said. "I just didn't expect Logan to react quite the way he did."
They all looked at Logan.
"What did you do, sugar?"
He dropped his gaze to his hands, and cracked his knuckles to stall. "I, er, well, you see--"
"He thought you and Scott were having an affair," Jean said, matter-of-factly.
Scott burst into laughter.
"What? You'd be lucky to get a woman as beautiful as Marie to look at you. No offense, Jeannie."
"None taken," she murmured.
He ignored her and continued, "And she came home smelling like you. What the hell else was I supposed to think?"
"Logan, have I done anything to make you believe I'm not happy?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "Lying to me. Sneaking out with Scooter. And Jeannie knew, but you didn't tell me." He tapped the tabletop. "Not exactly trusting, is it?"
"You jumped to the conclusion that I'm a harlot who's cheating on you with my friend's husband! That's not exactly trusting, either, Logan!"
Their voices were rising and the other denizens of the diner eyed them curiously. Logan growled, but these were New Yorkers, and they weren't intimidated.
He moderated his tone. "The evidence was there. I just--"
"Jumped to conclusions! The wrong conclusions!" Rogue obviously didn't care that they were attracting attention, but he did. He didn't like attracting attention, though it might mean a good fight tonight, and a way of working off the excess anxiety that had turned into anger.
"Smelled like Scott! You smelled like Scott when you had sex with me!" he roared, and it took every ounce of control not to unsheathe the claws just to get his point across.
The spectators all leaned in a little closer.
Rogue opened her mouth, and then closed it, lower lip trembling suspiciously. She rose and rushed out of the diner.
"Go easy," Jean called as he followed her.
"You can beat me up later," Scott said.
You can count on that, Logan thought.
There were few things he hated more in life than making Marie cry, and even though he knew they were both in the wrong, he'd suck it up and apologize. It was what real men did. Real, pussy-whipped men, who loved their girlfriends to the point of nausea.
She stood with her back to him, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders shaking. He could hear her making choking noises, and took a deep breath.
"Baby, I'm so sorry--" He touched her arm and she turned unresistingly. She was laughing. Laughing. Not crying. "What the hell--"
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I know it's terrible. I lied to you. You accused me of cheating. I'm very angry. It's just -- there were all these people staring at us, like we were the latest episode of General Hospital or something."
Her laughter had always been infectious, and this time was no different. He snorted and grinned. "We did sound kinda ridiculous in there, didn't we?"
She nodded. "Yeah. And, well, I'm sorry. I thought it would be a cool surprise. I just wanted to make sure we could actually do it before I told you. I mean, sure, karaoke is one thing--"
"Karaoke?"
"You know, they play the music but you sing the words--"
"I know what karaoke is, Marie. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Oh. Remember when you were on that mission to Bangladesh with Storm and Remy last month? Scott, Jean and I went out and got really drunk and did karaoke. And Jean, well, to put it nicely, she couldn't sing her way out of a paper bag. I think every cat in the neighborhood was outside the door when she was done.
"But I used to sing in chorus in high school, and I know I have a pretty good voice. And Scott -- he was in a band in college. So after convincing Jean that she should just sit and watch, he and I did a version of 'Proud Mary' that rocked the house. So we started going to karaoke night all over the place. But then Scott mentioned he used to play guitar, and we didn't need to do karaoke, we could actually be, like, an act. We went to open mike night at a few places, and then, at this bar in Yonkers, we came in third. We went back, and the second time, we won, and the manager of Mighty Jim's asked us if we wanted to play at his bar. So we said yes. And that's where we are now.
"It was just for fun."
"Fun that you didn't want me to know about."
"I--" She drew a deep breath. "You're right. Jean knew. It's just -- I figured if tonight went well, I would ask you to come next time, and surprise you. I just didn't want you to see me if I sucked."
"Marie, baby, I would never think you sucked." She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, if you sounded really bad, I might think it, but I wouldn't say it. I mean, I love you. Even if you sound like a dying moose when you sing."
"I don't sound like a dying moose."
She was so cute when she was offended, but he knew that if he said anything, he'd get into even more trouble, so he just said, "No, you don't."
She smiled. "We were good. We rocked the house."
"You did, but don't get cocky, Janis."
"Hee! Janis!" She wrapped an arm around his waist and buried her face against his chest.
"No more lies, okay? I don't really like surprises."
"Okay. And no more jumping to conclusion?"
"Well, you've gotta admit, kid, things looked pretty suspicious--" She pinched him. "Ow! Okay, no more jumping to conclusions." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Let's go home."
"What about Scott and Jean?"
He looked back into the diner window, to see the Fearless Leader of the X-Men making out with his wife in plain view. He decided he'd like to be doing the same with Marie.
"I don't think they'll miss us."
End.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Dot, Jen, Meg, Pete and Melissa. It's cheesetastic!
Begun: August 10, 2002 (no, that's not a typo)
Finished: August 18, 2003