“I have my slippers on! You can’t touch me! You cannot touch me! Let me go! See? I have my slippers…” What the fuck is her problem? Is she trying to wake up the whole freaking mansion? Yeah. She has slippers on. Well, at least one of them. Other went sailing across the kitchen when she tried to kick me when I took her on my lap.
“Shut up. People are trying to sleep. We need only Jean, not the whole fucking team.”
“Let me go! I don’t want this! I have my slippers on!” Shit. I can hear voices coming from the second floor. This will look real good. I wonder if Scott lets me even open my mouth before he blasts my hairy ass to next week… Better get Marie out of the way before that.
“Wait here.” I lower her to a couch in the rec room and go to greet the rescue party.
Thank God it’s just Professor and Jean.
“May I ask what is going on?” Professor. Always so fucking polite. Even in the middle of the night.
“It’s nothing. Rogue had a little accident. She could use some stitching up, but it’s nothing serious.” And that’s the fucking truth. Why are they looking at me like that?
“I was taking her to the med lab, but I guess she was still little freaked out…”
“Yes. I’m sure that was the case. If you two excuse me, I’m sure you’re quite capable taking care of this one by yourselves…” Professor says. Turns his wheelchair around and leaves when Jean walks down the stairs.
“You should go to bed, too,” she says, walking past me, in to the rec room.
“No. I want to know if the kid’s going to be alright.” I don’t know what Jean is picking up from me, or if I’m projecting at all, but she sure does act weird. Narrows her eyes and almost bares her teeth. Makes me want to snarl and puff my chest, but I’ll let it slide. She already has so high opinion of me, no reason to give her any more ammo.
“She’ll be perfectly alright. Go to bed, Logan.”
“Fine.” I can always wait in the kitchen. Jean won’t probably keep her in the med lab. Marie hates that place.
“Jean, wait.” Marie’s already calmed down. She’s leaning in to Jean. I crouch in front of her and slip ice cream -stained bunny-slipper to her bare foot. Give it a little nudge. Better take good care of her Bugs… Or I’m coming after you.
Cleaning up the kitchen takes ten minutes. Fastest ten minutes of my life. Next thirty are probably the longest. I have heard people say how one minute can feel like a whole hour. I have always thought that’s a load of bullshit. Won’t think that way anymore. Every fucking minute feels like a fucking century. I have to see her. I have to know what made her flip out like that. Finally she skirts past kitchen door, towards the stairs. I try to go after her, but Jean stops me at the door and pushes me back in to kitchen. This time I snarl. An honest threat, teeth bared. Jean slaps me. Hard.
“Get a grip, Wolverine!” And like a whipped puppy I slink back. I’m sure if I had a tail it would be tucked so tightly between my legs you would need a crowbar to yank it out. What the fuck is going on?
“I… Professor and I… We discussed about this with the team. We thought it would be better if you left.” She’s walking past me. Pouring water to the coffee maker.
“Why?” I sit to the counter.
“You’re too unpredictable.”
“You’re kicking me to the curb without a warning, and I’m the unpredictable one? That’s rich…” This is probably a perfect moment to light up a cigar. Jean glares at me, but doesn’t tell me to put it out. Interesting.
“We’re not kicking you to the curb. And you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself,” she snaps back instead.
“Xavier offers a term of notice?”
“Logan…”
“This really isn’t a team decision.”
“No. It isn’t,” Jean admits reluctantly.
“This has got nothing to do with my performance during missions or in classes.” Jean doesn’t look at me.
“Why?”
Jean huffs and turns to look at me.
“Can you honestly say you don’t know what this is all about?” She asks.
“Since when have I lied to you? Or any of these people for that matter…” And now Jean has the decency to look apologetic. She knows the answer to my question. Not once have I lied. She pours herself some coffee and walks to patio. I would like to go and see if Marie is okay, but I have to figure this out before that. I follow Jean. She’s sitting on a wicker chair. Marie’s chair. I sit on the railing, rather than to my chair.
“She’s scared of you. She doesn’t know what to think anymore. I picked up some quite disturbing images from her mind.” Jean says, sipping her coffee. She’s avoiding me with her gaze again.
“Scared of me? Okay, maybe I was out of line earlier when she left her slippers to the DR, but she knows me. She knows I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I wasn’t talking about that. Though that one you could have handled better. I’m talking about bathtub, DR with Sabretooth and God knows what else.” Now I really need something more than just a cigar.
“She knows?”
“She saw you last night when you were jerking off. She saw you in Danger Room with Sabretooth. She’s confused. She doesn’t know what to think. She doesn’t know what you want from her.”
“And you’re kicking me out before I have the chance to explain it to her?”
“How would you explain it? Do you know the answer yourself?”
“Yeah. I do.” And I’m not going to elaborate more. That’s something between Marie and me.
“I’ll give you until the end of the week. If this thing isn’t settled before that, you’re leaving.” Okay. I can live with that. I offer my hand to Jean. She grabs it.
“We have a deal.”
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