"We tend not to choose the unknown, which might be a shock or a disappointment or simply a little difficult to cope with. And yet it is the unknown, with all its disappointments and surprises, that is the most enriching." -- Anne Morrow Lindbergh
{Logan}
I don't know what's happened, but something's different. Jeannie's not flirting with me like she used to. Maybe she noticed that my heart ain't in it anymore. I don't know. But she and Scott just announced their wedding date. No more putting it off -- I think they're really going to do it this time.
And I'm actually kind of happy for 'em. I didn't expect that. It's rare to see two people who love each other so much. I know Jean and I don't, which is why it's okay. Don't get me wrong, I'd fuck her six ways from Sunday if I had the chance, and I know it'd be good. But that would be it. There wouldn't be anything else but sex.
I never believed that there could be anything more than sex, not until I saw her and Scott and the way they seem to fit together. Not until I held Marie's lifeless body that night at the Statue of Liberty, and realized she meant more to me than anyone I had ever met. I started to wonder if she and I could fit like that.
I know I shouldn't think stuff like that about her. Even if she is twenty-one now, she's just a kid, still. Got a lot of growing up to do -- a lot of learning about life and a lot of experiences to have.
Shit. She better not be experiencing anything with that Cajun prick.
I know, I know. I'm being all dog in the manger, but Marie is my responsibility, and if he does anything to hurt her--
*Snikt*
"Are you okay, Logan?"
Shit. How did Storm sneak up on me like that? And the claws -- got to put away the claws.
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"I said I'm all right, 'Ro."
She sighs. "Everyone thinks you are upset because of Jean's announcement at dinner last night." I don't say anything. People can think whatever they want about me. I don't care. It's probably better if they do think that. I can only imagine what they'd think if they knew what I wanted to do with Marie.
"I don't think that," she continues, startling me out of my thoughts. Man, when did I get so distracted? "Rogue does not love Remy. She's going to break his heart."
I blink. Several times. "What?"
"I said--"
"I heard what you said, Ororo. What the hell does it have to do with me?"
"I know how you feel about her," Storm says matter-of-factly. "I see it in your eyes as you look at them." I open my mouth to deny it, but she just keeps talking. "I know because I see the same look in my eyes when I look in the mirror."
"You're in love with Marie?" I ask, like an idiot. She laughs and I realize, "Gumbo. You want the Cajun."
"Very perceptive of you, Logan," she answers. "So, what are you going to do about it?"
I shrug. I hadn't planned on doing anything. I'm staying away from the kid. I don't want to hurt her.
"You think about it," she says, walking away. "Let me know if you come up with something."
I shrug again. I already made my decision. I'm not going to let Storm's situation change my mind.
I sit back and continue my contemplation of Marie and her Cajun boyfriend. I know they can feel me staring, and I hope it bothers them. Because watching them together damn sure bothers me.
{Remy}
I can see out of the corner of my eye that Wolverine is watching us. He watches us all the time now. I lean in a little closer and whisper in Rogue's ear.
"He be watchin' us, chere."
She inclines her head a little, giving me access to her neck, and laughs. I love the sound of her laughter. When I came to the mansion, she was always so solemn, grave even. Her eyes were so big and sad, and I just felt it in my heart that I had to protect her. I think every man in the place feels that way about her. My heart belongs to Stormy -- always has, even though I don't really show it -- but Rogue and me -- we understand each other.
"Let's give him a show, then," she says, twining her arms around my neck and blowing in my ear.
I lean down and press kisses to her neck through the sheer scarf she's wearing.
When I first told her my idea, that we should get together and wait it out for the ones we loved, she thought I was crazy. I admit it sounds strange. And really, she probably shouldn't have trusted me. Most people here don't. That's okay -- they know what I am. But it seemed like the only way to get her, and mon dieu, I wanted her. She's untouchable, unapproachable -- the perfect lure for a con artist like me -- the grand prize in the game of love.
I am not above playing dirty to get what I want, and Rogue wasn't falling into my arms like I'd planned, so presenting her with the plan to get Wolverine was a stroke of genius. I never expected that I'd actually go through with it, though.
I mean, I'm Remy LeBeau, Prince of Thieves. I steal hearts as easily as I steal wallets. But I quickly learned that ma chere's heart was locked up tight and guarded by those damn adamantium claws. Since I couldn't offer her mine in return -- I'm dishonest, but I couldn't do that to her, lie about that once I got to know her -- I decided it was all right.
And so we waited and watched, worked and hoped. And had some damn good times along the way, if I do say so myself. I'm able to make the sad-eyed girl laugh, and I know it burns Logan every time he hears it.
Merde! The man is denser than the metal in his bones. Jean is beautiful, but anyone with eyes could see she'd never leave Cyclops. Just like anyone can see that Rogue belongs with Logan. Anyone but him, apparently.
That's okay. My goddess, so perceptive when it comes to others, believes I am in love with the southern belle. And I, though it pains me, have let her think that. But I know the day of reckoning is at hand. Rogue will go to Logan tonight. That is the plan. And I will go to Ororo and confess my love.
I could make her love me -- I have the gift of empathy, though no one here knows it -- but for once, I want to do it the hard way. I want her love to be real, not something I manipulated, like the cards in my pocket.
"He's coming over," Rogue murmurs, bringing me back to the moment.
I grin widely. "Your hairy man finally seein' de light, petite," I breathe, so softly even his hearing can't pick it up. I give her one last quick kiss on the forehead, and melt into the shadows of the late afternoon.
The game is over for her, but for me, it's just beginning.
{Ororo}
I am calm. I am centered. I breathe in and out, feeling my place in the world. I am so deep in my meditation that I cannot say how long I've been gone, but I suddenly feel eyes on me and it jolts me out of my trance.
Demon's eyes.
Remy is staring at me, and suddenly I realize I am naked.
I grew up in a culture where nudity was commonplace, and I have none of the "hang-ups" that Americans do about it, but Remy's unblinking stare flusters me.
I reach behind me for my robe, but he's already there, holding it out.
Why am I nervous? I've known this man for many years. He is one of my dearest friends, yet I see the look in his eyes, and it unnerves me. I feel the warmth between my thighs at his nearness, and I chide myself for wanting what I cannot have.
"Stormy," he whispers, "Look out the window."
"I have told you not to call me that!" I say, but my words lack the proper indignation as his hands caress my shoulders, propelling me toward the window.
I see Logan, towering over Rogue. They are having an argument. It has all the earmarks of a lovers' quarrel. She turns to walk away and he spins her around; his body language is that of a suppliant before his goddess, begging for forgiveness.
"I am so sorry, Remy," I say, though my heart sings at the idea that he could be mine, that Logan has finally realized that he loves Rogue, and she has released Remy into my care.
"Non, chere. Nothin' to be sorry for. We planned it this way, le petite and I. She gets her hairy man, and I get my goddess, if she'll have me," he whispers, his breath brushing over my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
It's as if he heard my thoughts about Logan and Rogue.
"What are you saying?" I ask, and curse the breathlessness of my tone.
"You're the one for this thief, chere. I've been dreamin' of you for ages now, 'Roro." He leans down and kisses my neck softly. My eyes drift close and I rest against him, feeling his lean, taut body, pressed up against me. His hand cups my chin and he turns my face to his. "I gotta know, chere -- do I have a chance?"
His eyes, so strange and yet so endearing, are lit from behind with fire. His heart is in them, and I feel myself trying to get even closer to him.
"Yes."
It's barely a sigh, but he doesn't need to hear it, he can feel it -- that is how little distance is left between us. I turn, my robe undone, and now I am kissing him. His eyes are intent on mine, but they close and his head tilts back. He whimpers as I trail my lips down his neck, reaching the sensitive place beneath his ear.
We somehow wind up on the bed, limbs entangled. I do not worry about the details. I have the man who stole my heart, my Prince of Thieves, and I plan to get to know him better, starting right now.
It may have begun as a game to him, but I mean to show him that one does not trifle with a goddess. When this is done, I know I will have his heart, much as he has mine.
{Rogue}
Remy leaves as Logan walks over. I swallow and try to calm myself. I've had this moment planned for years, but now that it's here, I'm not sure if I can go through with it.
This is do or die, I tell myself. Either he goes for it, or I'll lose even the friendship I've come to depend on so desperately.
"What'd the prick do to you now, kid?" Logan asks casually, but he radiates tension. It's making me nauseous.
I shrug. "Nothing. I broke it off with him. I don't love him." Come on, Logan, take the bait.
All he says is, "Oh." He studies his shoes as though they're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
Shit.
"Yeah. I didn't think it was fair, you know, to string him along when I know I don't love him, and Storm does."
His head snaps up. Aha! A reaction.
"Am I the only one who doesn't know this stuff?" His aggrieved tone makes me laugh, which softens his expression. But then he grows serious. "What if he doesn't love her back?"
"He does."
Logan arches an eyebrow, and I shrug again. Nothing like that careless shoulder movement to convey everything and nothing. I learned that from him.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. I see his eyes are drawn to my cleavage, which feels bare without his tags nestling between my breasts. He frowns, and I know he notices their absence.
I pull them from my pocket and hold them out to him.
"This is my day for breaking things off, I guess," I say, after the silence has become unbearable. "I can't be your little Marie anymore, so I should give these back."
Something flashes across his face, so quickly I can't identify it. "No."
I try to smile, but it feels more like a pained grimace. It hurts my face. "Yeah."
"No," he says again, with more feeling behind it. "I made you a promise, kid, and I'm keeping it. Those tags are a pledge--"
I hold up a hand. I don't want to hear this. "I'm releasing you from it. I'm not a kid anymore, Logan, and I don't need your protection. I want more than that from you." Shit, that slipped out, earlier than I wanted it to, and more desperate-sounding than I planned.
"I, I can't, Marie. I can't give you that." He sounds terrible, like it's really hurting him to say it. I guess it is. I mean, I know he loves me. I've seen it in his thoughts and feelings. It hurts him to hurt me like this. But he's got this stupid idea that he's no good for me.
"You can," I respond, "but you won't." He opens his mouth, but I don't let him speak. I'm not done yet. "You think you're too old, but I'm grown now. You spend all your time looking for a past that doesn't even matter, because whatever it is, it's gone. You can't get it back. The present and the future are what's important, but you're always looking backwards, so you can't see that." I'm working up a good head of steam now, really letting him have it -- four years of repressed feelings are spilling out.
"You're a coward, Logan." Ooh, that got him. He stiffens, eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring, but I don't care. I'm sick of keeping my feelings hidden; I'm getting it all out now. "You don't reach out and take what's right in front of you -- instead you moon over Jean like a lovesick teenager. You know you don't love her, or she, you, but you're too damned scared to actually take a chance with someone you do love, who loves you back.
"Well, I'm done with it, Logan. Either you admit how you feel about me, or we're over -- whatever this is between us -- is over." I turn and begin walking away. I can feel the tears threatening as he says nothing. I close my eyes, praying that I can make it to my room before I break down.
He follows, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him. "Marie," he says hoarsely, and the look on his face damn near breaks my heart. "I--" He closes his eyes and runs a hand through his already-wild hair. He sounds angry when he says, "You-- Dammit, Marie, I love you. Are you happy now?"
Actually, I kinda am, but he's not done, and I have a feeling I'm not going to like the rest of what he has to say.
"I'm trying to do right by you, darlin'. Can't you see that? I want you to be happy, and I don't think I'm the man who can do that."
"Well, not having you is making me very unhappy, Logan! I understand you're scared. It's a scary thing -- this -- whatever it is we have. But I think it's also a good thing, a great thing, even. And I want to see if we can make it work."
"Marie, baby, you know I'd die for you--" He pulls me closer as he's talking, and I'm practically in his arms, which is right where I want to be.
"I know, sugar," I say softly, gently caressing his cheek. "But what I really want to know is if you'll live for me, Logan, and live with me."
When he comes to a decision, he doesn't answer with words at first. Instead, he drags me against his chest, pinning me there with a hand at the small of my back. His other hand dangles the dogtags as he works the chain over my head. Then he kisses me, brushing his lips against my hair, where it's safe, and whispers in my ear.
"Yes," he says. "I will."
And he casts fate to the winds, pressing a searing kiss to my lips through my scarf. He chooses the unknown, and I believe he's making the right choice.
Fin
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete. This is my attempt to provide a good-guy Gambit and closure, all in one neat package.
{ } indicates POV