Glancing around Jean sighed, the street looked like a tornado had tore through it – a pun not missed by her – with cars upturned, debris everywhere and small pockets of fire littering the area.
Scanning the gathering team she sighed as she counted heads before frowning and recounting, "Where's Rogue?" she demanded, unwilling to leave the young woman behind after the last go-round with Logan over her being on the team.
"She was right behind me," Kitty stated glancing over her shoulder at the now empty street.
"Yeah, not a scratch on her," Bobby declared, "Where the hell did she disappear to?"
"We better find her or someone will be explaining what happened to Logan," Jean stated calmly.
Glancing at each other the team members were quick to fan out, searching for their missing comrade. No one wanted to deal with an irate Wolverine – especially when it concerned the elusive and highly prized Rogue.
Groaning at the soft pounding in her head Rogue blinked her eyes open and sat upright in shock. Instead of hell or a cold, steel enforced cell she was laying in a warm, soft, queen sized antique four poster bed. Deep red walls lined the room and the intricately carved crown molding raced around the room, its rich golden hue broken only by the scarlet roses dispersed through out it.
Glancing around Rogue frowned, perhaps she'd made it back to the mansion and this was a hallucination she thought only to glare at the door currently being knocked upon.
"Good you're awake. Angel wasn't too sure if you would be," the girl was young, her face marred by a deep, angry scar that ran from her temple down to her shoulder. Her eyes held more knowledge than a girl should have, and the way she carried herself told of a painful injury at one time.
"Uh where am I?"
"Angel said you might be a little fuzzy," the girl said moving into the room and pulling the drapery apart, "That's normal after being hit in the head. She had the doctor check you over – you're fine."
"Of course I am," Rogue muttered, "I heal just like Logan does."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. When can I go home?"
"You are home. We're all home. This is a safe place, one you don't have to worry about some trick wantin' more than you're willing to give."
"Trick?" Rogue gaped at the girl.
"Sara please leave us," the tone was warm, understanding, and yet a thread of steel raced through it.
With a quick nod and an easy grin the girl slipped out the door leaving a tall, curvy blonde in the room with Rogue. Tossing the blankets back Rogue slid out of bed and glanced around for her clothes, "Where are my clothes?"
"Cabinet contains clothes," the blonde declared. "So how old are you?"
"What?"
"You don't look older than sixteen," she stated calmly, "Love the stripes."
"Yeah, you can have `em if you want, along with the memory of how I got 'em," Rogue muttered angrily as she jerked open doors and dug out pants, long sleeved top, and socks. "I need my gloves."
"Uh you're skin's covered in clear latex," Angel explained, "its common practice here, we don't allow new girls free movements until they come back clean. Can't allow a disease to race through the house."
"Where am I?"
"Rogue's Haven, Selkirk Alberta, Canada," Angel smirked at the stunned look on the girl's face. "A little farther from down south than you're used to I assume."
"I was in New York."
"Yes, and I flew you up. No sense in you having to deal with hospitals and such – not unless it's a necessity and it wasn't. We have an awesome doctor that comes twice a week; turns out he was here last night."
Rogue frowned as she glanced around, "What did you call this place?"
"Rogue's Haven," Angel smiled softly, "Its named for a woman my savior loves."
"Your savior?"
"Yes," with a slight shake of her head she held out her hand, "Sorry my manners are horrible today. I'm Angel, I run this place. I'm also the only pick up person for the LFAA."
"LFAA?" Rogue asked weakly wondering what sort of shit she was in now and where she could reach Logan.
"Sure, Logan's Fallen Angels Association," Angel said settling onto a chair. "Most of the girls here are off the streets. A few came to us because of their obvious mutations seeking help which we'll give but this is a refuge, a haven for the babies of the streets."
"Why Rogue?"
"Rogue was the name of Logan's lover. I heard him on the first night, talking to her. There was more love in his voice than in any ten people's conversations since then."
"Logan..Rogue," Rogue gaped at the girl, "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
"Relax," Angel stood up and patted the girl on the shoulder, "Breakfast is ready so whenever you can come downstairs its fine."
"When does Logan come by?" Rogue asked impatiently.
"He was supposed to be here tomorrow but he called a half an hour ago and said he wasn't going to make it. Unfortunately he's stuck in New York, and couldn't make it. You'll be safe here."
"But.." Rogue protested as the girl exited the room, closing the door and leaving her in silence. If Logan was responsible for this place that meant that the girl was the one he'd told her about, the one who saved young women from the streets. Biting her lip Rogue glanced at the closet before pulling clothes on and heading downstairs for the rich smelling food.
Setting at the table Rogue watched as nearly forty girls of all ages devoured the huge amount of food that was placed before them. Some of the girls had scars that crisscrossed their faces; others wore gloves, and other clothes to hide what was beneath them. Only a few seemed at ease with their appearances, with themselves.
"So what's your name?" one of the girls asked, "Your real name – we don't use street names here."
"Uh..Marie," Rogue faltered it had been so long since anyone other than Logan had called her by that name that it felt weird to say it.
"I'm Lisa," the girl next to her smiled and offered her a glove covered hand to shake. "Been here six months and it's a cool place to be."
"Hi," Rogue shook her hand as a round of coffee was poured. "Do you all live here?"
"Yep," the girls nodded proudly, "We're not all from this area though, Angel pulled us out of some real shitty places."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, Sara there is from Seattle. Several of the others are from a few of the bars and small piss holes within the state of Montana, even got one or two from New York. Your accent tells me you're from down south. Mississippi?"
"Uh yes, originally."
"Nice to have you here," Angel smiled, "After breakfast I'll show you around personally. We don't do business as meal time."
Rogue nodded slowly and ate the food piled on her plate. When she was finished the plates were cleared and Rogue rose to follow Angel out of the room. Walking in silence down the hallway Rogue slipped silently into what appeared to be an office and closed the door.
Turning to sit down she gaped in amazement at the beautifully enlarge picture that was hung from the wall. The scene was familiar; just another posed family portrait if one didn't recognize the looks on the faces of the pair in the picture.
She distinctly remembered when the picture was taken; it had been a few months after Logan had come home the last time. They'd been out in the rose garden when Jubilee had come up to them wanted to take their picture. After they'd protested for a few minutes they'd given in.
Standing with her back against Logan's chest Rogue's face was tilted up toward his, love, devotion and longing evident in her eyes. A similar expression was mirrored on Logan's face, along with a healthy dose of lust, and a settled look in his eyes.
It was obvious to even a blind person that there was more than just family affection between them. Instead anyone looking would assume they were lovers... but they weren't, not then, not yet.
"You know who I am?" Rogue whispered staring at the girl as she sank into the leather chair and leaned back.
"Yes," Angel nodded quickly, "I had no choice. If that over grown housecat had gotten his hands on you – there wouldn't have been much left."
"How'd you get both of us away from Sabertooth?"
Chuckling Angel held up one hand and the soft musical clinking of her charms echoed in the room, "My mutation allows me to use organic metal to coat my skin. That's why I wear this, it's my alarm system."
"Are you going to let me go?"
Angel leaned forward and met her eyes, "You aren't a prisoner Rogue, and you're a guest here. I owe Logan so much and I can't save everyone. I'd protect what he's spent the past few years working on here...”
"What is this place? Honestly, without bullshit?" Rogue demanded.
Angel smiled softly, sadly, "This is a haven for the girls who've spent time on the streets. This is a place for those who've been so desperate, so driven by survival to sell their bodies. The girls here are young; I have another place on the other side of town that's mainly boys."
"Why?'
"Because, someone once did for me what I do for them," Angel whispered softly, her eyes filled with a far off look. "Because I know what it's like to be willing to trade your wings in for your next meal."
"What do you mean? Rogue asked softly.
"He gave me food," Angel shrugged softly; "If he'd told me that he wanted to do me up the ass I'd have let him I was that desperate. I'd been on my own since I was thirteen, survived on garbage and scraps, panhandling until I got a little older. By the time I was fifteen I was selling oral sex just to have enough to buy a few scraps of food a week. Logan got me out of that, he offered me another way of life – and he did it because of you. I'd do anything to make sure that it wasn't for nothing."
Rogue nodded and studied the woman, "I remember that night, remember him phoning me. He said he missed me, he loved me. I didn't believe him for the longest time because everyone was always saying he couldn't love me. I was untouchable, I was a freak.."
Angel nodded, "Seems to me you've done for him what no one else ever did. He worships you, and you can see it in every move he makes. One of the reasons he sends money, he sends clothes, kids this way. He offers them a refuge, safety.."
"A haven from life."
"Yes. I am sorry I had to drag you out of New York, I'll make arrangements for you to get home."
"You love him," Rogue stated.
Angel smiled softly, "Yes. Not the way you do though, I love him like a brother, a father, like a guardian Angel. One of the reasons I offer those within the walls the chance to be marked by our club."
"Huh?" Rogue frowned as the girl pulled her shirt aside to reveal a series of letters tattooed onto her shoulder in calligraphy. "What's that say?"
"LFAA," Angel explained.
"Before I go home could I get one?"
"Sure," Angel shrugged, "You okay with this?"
Rogue smiled as she stood up and moved around the room, "Am I okay with a shelter being named after me? Am I okay with Logan doing for others what he did for me? Yes I am," Rogue nodded with a chuckle. "Logan's a good man, not that he always believes it but still he is what I want and I'm glad for that."
"A fallen Angel who recognized his own kind," Angel stated calmly as she reached for the phone, "I'll make you a reservation at the local airport. You'll be back in New York by tomorrow."
"Thanks," Rogue smiled at the other woman who smiled back.
"Thank Logan for me," she replied seriously even as she turned her attention to making reservations. "If you ask Sara she can line you up with a tattoo like mine. Your flight leaves at eight tonight."
Nodding Rogue slipped out of the office and headed down the hallway, she had something she needed to do.
EPILOGUE:
Pacing across the confines of Charles office Logan glared at the team members who'd lost Rogue. He was barely controlling rage at the way they'd callously refused to accept the blame, instead putting it upon Rogue's shoulders. With a self-derisive snort Logan shook his head, it wasn't really their fault they were incompetent, he should never have left her here.
"Logan please," Jean started only to fall silent at the low, furious growl that seemed to reverberate through the air.
The soft sound of a knock on the door had everyone's head whipping around as it opened and a slim; figure dressed in black sweats and a hoody stepped in.
"What the fuck do you want?" Logan ground out itching to release his claws and shred something. Shaking his head at the fresh wave of Rogue's particular scent hit him he shifted uneasily, anxious to find her and get the phantom scent out of his system.
The figure shrugged and moved toward him before pausing before him and holding up a battered key chain, "You drop this," the whisper was so soft that most people in the room barely heard it but to Logan's hearing the voice was familiar, and very, very welcomed.
"Kid! Where the hell have you been," Logan ground out pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
"Oh visiting," Rogue laughed softly, "One of your angels?"
"Logan's Angels?" Scott snorted as Rogue turned to look at him.
"Yeah," Rogue grinned and tugged on Logan's hand, "Come on sugar, we got somewhere to be."
"Oh? Where is that?" Logan ground out.
"Your room," Rogue replied. "I want to show you something, something important."
"What's that?" Jean snapped, "You disappeared on us Rogue, you just run off…"
"I didn't run off, Angel removed me from Sabertooth's path. Sorry you don't like it but there it is. Now if you don't mind, Logan and I have a couple of nights to make up for."
Gaping at the woman who was currently all but pulling Logan out of the room the team glanced at each other before Storm picked up the keychain that had been left on the floor where Rogue had dropped it.
"What's it say?" Scott asked quickly.
Storm glanced at the others, "Logan's Fallen Angel's Association and A Rogue's Haven," Storm read softly.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Charles smiled, "You wouldn't believe it if I explained it," he stated calmly before heading for the door, "I'm up for a drink. Anyone care to join me?"
From where she sat in the car Angel smiled as she cranked the engine over and put the car into drive. Her debt wasn't paid off by any means but at least a little of the interest was paid off.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000