Author's Chapter Notes:
In response to Khaki's opening sequence challenge.
They died instantly. And that was one of the best things about video games, St. John thought as he thumbed the control, taking out four ghouls in the virtual alley displayed on the rec room TV. They didn't keep on fighting the Brotherhood or the FOH'ers like some feral version of the Energizer Bunny or Wile E. Coyote. No, they laid down and died like they were supposed to.

He grimaced to himself. No, he really didn't want to see the man dead. There wasn't a lot to like about Logan, but would he want him dead? No. Back in Canada? Yes. Definitely, yes.

After four years of being a supportive friend, Johnny's friendship with Rogue was just beginning to blossom into something more. Despite what Kitty and Jubes might believe, he was the one who nursed her through her crush on Logan, her turbulent romance with Remy, and the emotional roller coaster ride that ensued as she learned to control her mutation. And then there was the horribly cruel break-up with Stephen. Idly, he wondered for the hundredth time how Stephen had reacted to seeing Stephen Harris Sits Down When He Pees scorched onto the university's football field on homecoming weekend. It had been risky but hearing Rogue's laughter followed by an "I love you, Johnny" -- punctuated with a very memorable kiss -- made it entirely worth the black eye and broken nose he suffered later from the frat boys. Yes, life was good.

Until the next day, that is.

His football field antics were completely overshadowed by the latest campus rumor. Apparently, someone had paid a midnight visit to the fraternity house and put the dumb-as-rocks jocks through a now legendary, what could only be described as Logan-style, hazing.

And it had to be true. Those fraternity boys never even looked at him funny after that. More importantly, they treated Rogue like a queen, offering to carry her books and opening doors for her. Yes, Johnny had been completely upstaged, and the Rogue-St. John relationship slipped torturously back into the realm of the "non-date" movie habit with Johnny occasionally sitting hopefully through a romantic comedy here and there.

Now, eight months later and midway through the summer, Johnny, Rogue and their fellow Gen-X'ers were back at the mansion, college degrees in hand. They were finally considered adults and that was supposed to be good.

Except it wasn't. Rogue was no longer considered "jailbait" by The Missing Link.

"What's up Johnny? You got slaughtered," Bobby said, giving his shoulder a shove. Johnny looked up at the TV. He was out of lives and Game Over flashed annoyingly across the screen.

"Crap." He tossed the controls aside. He saw Bobby's expectant face and shrugged. "Just got a lot on my mind."

"Are you going to take up the professor's teaching offer?"

Johnny answered with a non-committal grunt. He glanced around the rec room looking for an out. He didn't want to have this discussion right now. Jubes and Dani were playing a game of chess. Piotr and Kurt were playing foosball. And predictably, Kitty had her nose in a book.

Bobby, like most of the occupants of the room - actually all of the occupants aside from himself -- had accepted teaching positions at the school. The student population had been growing with leaps and bounds. A large addition was being built to accommodate the influx of new students, but the curriculum, and consequently, the teaching resources also needed expansion.

Johnny's major had been in Physics. Originally, he had decided on Chemistry as his major, but one small explosion in the university's lab had convinced him that might not lead to a successful career with his particular "talents."

It's not like he wasn't thinking about taking the position. He belonged here and this was his family. He'd have to decide soon though. August was just around the corner and the professor, though never one to push, needed an answer. He felt he'd probably stay, but it would be hard - more difficult than the past four years - and he considered himself the master of persistence and endurance. He'd perfected art of secretive longing.

However, hiding his feelings was also getting increasingly difficult as Rogue and Logan grew chummier. In less than two months, Logan had usurped his position as confidant-extraordinaire. And now they were dating. Surprisingly, no one, not even Scott, was having a stroke about it, and that was just damn annoying.

Johnny heard the heavy thud of footsteps and looked up to see his nemesis enter the rec room. Faded jeans and a tight black t-shirt wrapped the testosterone-filled, muscle-bulging body that belonged to the Wolverine.

"Jubilee, have you seen Marie?"

"Wolvie! You can't take Rogue out looking like that," Jubilee moaned as she pulled out a brush from her purse. "Come here."

Logan growled in response and didn't budge.

"Doesn't matter. It's a brush, not a magic wand." It just slipped out and now there was nothing but an eerie silence draped over the rec room.

As soon as he said it, Johnny wished he were dead. His second thought was "Be careful of what you wish for." He surreptitiously glanced at Bobby who was pale and wide-eyed. No support there. He turned his gaze back to Logan ready to face the music. Logan's face was completely blank.

Logan turned and headed out of the rec room. "Outside Pyro," he called over his shoulder.

"Dude! What were you thinking?" Jubes clapped a hand to her forehead. "That woulda been funny with Mr. Summers. But with Wolvie? He doesn't have a sense of humor. You know that!"

"Not true. It's just a twisted sense of humor," Dani interjected. "Remember that time he took a bite out of Toad and said he tasted just like chicken."



Logan was waiting for him on the porch. On his way from the rec room to the porch, Johnny had come up with a new strategy. Provoke Logan. He was sure Rogue wouldn't take kindly to the Wolverine taking a bite out of her best friend. He took a seat on the swing.

"You don't like me much."

"And Mr. Summers said you were slow on the uptake." To his dismay, Logan chuckled and then blew cigar smoke in his face. Okay, second-hand smoke was considered dangerous, but not exactly something Rogue would get up in arms about.

Logan took another puff and then popped his neck. He almost looked uncomfortable. "Y'know, I'm sorry about this."

"What?" This wasn't going as planned unless Logan normally apologized before kicking ass. He was weird, but Johnny didn't think he was that weird.

Logan stubbed out his cigar, and then reached behind 'Ro's potted plant. He pulled out two Molson Goldens, popped off the bottle caps with a single claw and offered one to Johnny. "You've been a good friend to Marie, and I know you have feelings for her."

Johnny accepted the beer uncertainly and mulled over a number of responses before settling on one. "Yeah, I do. I don't know why though. She really does some annoying crap like when we hold hands, she plays with my fingernails."

Logan grunted and nodded. "Yeah, but she doesn't let just anyone hold her hand."

Johnny took a swig of beer. "And come to think of it I don't much care for her condiment choices either. French dressing and french fries weren't meant for each other."

"I think the bad taste in things French was just a passing phase." Logan paused. "But I don't really like the way she just reaches over and changes the radio station when I'm driving. And I'd really rather go permanently deaf than listen to Country music. A healing factor isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Johnny smirked. "Well, if the Country music bothers you, wait until you hear her snore. It's like a chainsaw on steroids."

Logan almost launched himself off the porch railing. "How do you know she snores?"

Johnny couldn't prevent it. He jumped and added hurriedly, "Road trip to New Hampshire junior year. That's why I sometimes call her Buzz." Johnny knew he was being scrutinized closely, but then Logan just nodded thoughtfully.

"Did she ever make you paint her toenails?"

Johnny burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. "No," he finally squeaked out.

Logan set down his beer on the railing and held up his hands. He popped the claws. "I mean, c'mon, do these hands look like they were built for dainty work?"

"No, they certainly don't."

Logan retracted the claws and picked up his beer and finished it. "And why on earth does it take her an hour and half to get ready? Can you answer me that?"

Johnny shook his head, the slight pain of jealousy returned. "She doesn't spend that kind of time primping for just anyone."

"Hmm. I guess that's true."

Johnny downed half the bottle before his next question. "So where are you taking her tonight?"

"Going casual. Movie and then Harry's."

"Don't let her rope you into a game of quarters. Healing factor or not, she 'll kick your ass." Rogue could roll the quarter down that lovely straight nose of hers and it would bounce on the table and land perfectly in the shot glass.

"She could try," Logan retorted with a mischievous grin.

Johnny stood and leveled his most serious look at Logan. "You know, if you break her heart, I'm going to be there to pick up the pieces."

"Uh huh. And I'd probably get my ass toasted, too."

Johnny smiled and raised his beer bottle to Logan. "Okay then. Thanks for the beer. I have to go see the professor now."

Logan returned the smile. "Good."
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