A.N.: This little story came out for many reasons not worth mentioning. If I shall have the time to continue this, the plot should evolve quite interesting with lots of twists, ups and down and all the drama that the X-men are capable of (joking with the last part). The base Universe in which this story takes place is the 4 X-men movies, a couple of years after. The small twists in the plot you'll be finding along the road I guess.

The story will focus on the relationship between Wolverine and Rogue but it will also bring in the spotlight the link between 4 main characters: Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit and Angel.

Disclaimer: All characters and organizations (minus episodic small characters) are the product of Marvel.

Chapter 1: 5 o'clock tea time meeting

He pushed the glass door open and looked around.

With his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket he growled at the gloomy foggy day.

It was set: he didn't like London – not one bit. The Heathrow airport was starting to get crowded with all the people coming in and greeting their awaited people. He really needed a cigar so he waited not a second more and went further outside.

Once he found a less busy place near the taxi station he lighted one of his cigars and thought of heaven as the nicotine was filling his lungs.

Yes, Logan was finally one happy man after hours of flight. He still couldn't understand why they had to use a public transport instead their jet. That thought alone reminded him that he wasn't alone and looked behind as if he had this feeling that he had forgotten something. He arched one of his thick eyebrows looking back at the double doors of the airport. It's not like his companion was going to come out any sooner. Shaking his head he took another long drag and thought about his carefree 'friend'. The last half of the flight he had disappeared in the bathroom of the plane and not long after his disappearance the stewardess usually patrolling between the chairs was replaced. At least he had the dignity to announce him he'll meet him at their destination place...Which was not necessarily a good thing; Gumbo better not do anything stupid or mark his entrance. At that idea Logan started to have second thoughts about letting him out of sight.

He trod over his thrown cigar and went for a car. With two words he threw the driver the directions and didn't even bother to look at his tense figure.

How the hell did he end up here? One reason: Marie. How London and Marie linked he still had no idea.

It all happened when the X-men pulled all their efforts to contact him and call him back to the Institute. He would have skipped it, after years he had left that place, but a single sentence had been enough to put him back on tracks. 'We believe that Charles and Jean might not be dead.'

So, that explains his return to the Institute. Once there he was greeted not only about the lasting members of the X-men but also by the comatose state Cyclops. Storm had filled him with all that they have learned, telling him that Charles was still there somewhere, that with the help of Emma Frost, who somehow had made her way back into the X-men, they had received fade telepathic signs of Charles and Jane. They had been able to locate Cyclops thanks to the help of their new arising allies, S.T.R.I.K.E. Logan has heard of this British intelligence agency before from Nick Fury but he also knew that they had disband, undermined for the inside. But according to Ororo it was now up again with a secured system and a trustworthy administration. Useless to say Logan was sceptic. But that could be the reason why they decided to send him of all people to acquire direct contact with the organization. That and the person who was supposed to lead him to them and clear his way – Rogue. That was the second time when he knew shock was written over his face – the first one being the news about Jean. Ever since he had stepped back into the Institute he knew Rogue wasn't there and hadn't been for a long time; there was no scent of her. He found the answer to that too. A year after his departure she had left the Institute as well. Where to? For the first two years they also had no idea; but unlike him she used to call from time to time. The first time they had seen her after two years was when she had dropped in front of their door, pointing at the helicopter on their baseball ground and telling them Scott was back. Fingering his pack of smokes from his jacket he stared through the steamy glass.

And now he was in England to have a chit-chat with this STRIKE people – the 'you scratch my back I scratch yours' kind of chit-chat. Initially Storm had decided to go herself but when Logan came back 'at the right time' and remembering it was Rogue that they had to get in contact with she was more than enthusiast to send him instead, considering their past relation. Logan himself was a little bit curios to see that girl but apart from Storm the rest of the X–men seemed a little reluctant to the idea. Even until now he knew not how to interpret that reaction. Regardless, here he was more than interested in seeing the kid again. All being perfectly understandable, that still didn't explain one presence with him in the country of tea and big clock tower: Gambit. When he went back to the Institute his road crossed again with this infamous Louisiana thief. Not exactly what he would describe a friend…a drinking, good fight buddy more likely. He was about to leave him behind when he found out about 'Stormy' and decided to pay her a visit in New York. He thought he wouldn't care much but when 'Stormy' perused him to stay and help her he realised he should have dumped the card spazz exactly where he had found him. The worst was yet to come as Gambit's record and skills as a thief made them decide to bring him in front of the S.T.R.I.K.E. as their 'inside man'. In Logan's opinion he wouldn't trust the Gumbo with his beer but it was Ororo's decision, so he didn't have a word in this…until he'll have reasons to put his claws at the speech point.

So Rogue was in England? That was a long way from home. He couldn't blame her for leaving. He wished he could, the thought of her staying at a safe place like the institute helping a lot, but he knew he had no right to. He had done the same. And he could understand more of how she must have felt out of place once she had taken the 'cure'. But Great Britain? What would a southern girl ever search for in Britain? Apparently, she had caught herself in mutant business even with her powers out, because that's what she had told them when she came back while smiling guiltily – that she had taken the 'cure'. How old should she be now? Twenty something… almost ten years had passed since she had jumped into the back of his car. Twenty six? Twenty seven?

The car came to a stop. The man threw some money at the cab driver and hit the door closed. Then his not so good mood dropped even more because of this place. You had to be joking him: an Oil Company? That was either a tasteless choice of a cover or a crappy joke. He really hated the British sense of humour.

Nevertheless he continued towards the double doors. At least the building was tall and of impressive construction. At the entrance he was stopped by the guard who, behind the counter and his glassed box, raised and looked at him questing.

Annoyed Logan approached the speaking glass.

"I am here for Anna Marie D'Ancanto."

The other man, obviously alerted by his appearance looked at him for a while as if the name had been completely new to him.

"Wait a second Sir."

As the guard picked up the transceiver and almost quietly contacted the other line Logan had to roll his eyes at the thick British accent. For a fact he didn't like British weather and British people – they were snobs no matter their position and jobs.

Then the uniform turned to him.

"Please advance to the lodge and wait there for someone to pick you up."

With a last glare he did as told. Apparently he did get to the right place as he hadn't even stated his name and they already knew his business here.

Fine; so he hated British weather, British people and British sense of decoration – everything looked expensive, dead clean and impractical. Pff… snobs. They were damned English…they were supposed to be there on time; and he hated waiting.

When he was about to growl the click of the elevator reached his ears; soon after, a pair of easy steps was heard coming his way from the elevator; a woman. It took her long to appear, giving the long corridor but there she was - a small blonde professional woman with soft features and a pair of slim glasses on her nose.

"Mister Logan. I am here to escort you through the building. If you would please follow me…"

Well, this was better than anything. He stepped towards her and she turned, walking back towards the elevator. He sensed her tension at setting eyes on him, as she looked the weak, desk type of person, but he couldn't smell any sense of fear coming from her. From the confidence with which she was keeping herself it looked as if the only thing that had distracted her were his looks, the scorn on his face had no effect whatsoever. She looked as if she was facing worse than him each day. Boss maybe? She was defiantly a secretary. And if it weren't for the professional appearances, the pile of documents she was elegantly holding in front of her gave her away.

Once inside the elevator she pushed the button to the 9th floor and the annoying music started to play.

"I am sorry for making you wait so long."

Truth being told he had spent only 6 minutes in the lodge.

"We had to solve unexpected problems that appeared in the last seconds. That is why I couldn't pick you up earlier. Needless to say my superior had to go and handle the…uninvited occurrence."

She smiled smartly and apologizing to him. But there was something else in her smile.

Logan felt a knot in his throat. He certainty didn't like the ring that that 'uninvited' thing had. This was definitely a bad omen and he felt as if he had forgotten something…something bad…;as the gas running at home.

Once the elevator stopped the doors seemed to take their time to open. The woman stepped out and guided him through the long corridor, doors on both sides. Suddenly one of the doors opened and a well suit appearing in front of the woman.

"Problem solved. He is in the interrogatory room."

Before the woman could answer another voice shouted from inside the office.

"Was! She got him out 10 seconds ago and Sinclair is bringing him up."

The woman sighed tired.

"This could have been a quiet day." Then she turned to Logan and the same shy smile appeared on her lips. "Please, let us move forward."

At the end of the corridor she pushed the door open and led him inside her office and from there through another door into a much larger bureau.

He restrained a snorting sound at the luxurious office but at that moment he was trying not to think at this thing that kept bugging him more and more from the little words exchange in the corridor. If his fears were true he set his mind on pretending he didn't know Gambit.

"Please have a seat. You will be received in a couple of minutes. Would you like something to drink?"

A low 'no' was all that she received as an answer and if she felt insulted her professional attitude didn't let it show. She bowed and smiled politely and exited, closing the door after him.

He didn't have the time to look around when his ears caught two set of steps marching towards the office.

The door flew open and he smirked at the irony. What did you know? His guesses had been right. A tall men, dressed in a perfect black suit stopped in the doorway pushing in a terrible amused Gambit at the sight of his 'old pall'.

"Mon ami! I knew y' were going t' get me out of dere!"

This time however Logan rolled his eyes.

The guy in the doorway looked beyond furious and was definitely not finding any of this humorous. He turned to the woman outside.

"Where is she? She has no position to take him out of the interrogatory."

The woman twitched at his spitting words and squeezed in past him.

"Well, apparently you abided her words and brought him up here."

The woman was visibly annoyed by his yelling.

The southern man looked at his companion whilst letting his body fall on the fine leather sofa.

"So, I guess y' weren't the one t' get me out of dere."

Logan snorted.

"Couldn't yah use the front door Gumbo?"

He shrugged and looked at the petite woman fighting his colleague.

"And miss a pair o' beautiful legs, ami? T' bad that when they lifted me from the interrogatory room dis boor pushed me foreword and I couldn't see past her thighs because o' all those people surrounding her. Tell y' somethin': I'd run around dis place t' get caught anytime if dat means seing' dat pair o' long legs again and again."

And here again he was starting with his lady-killer comments. He felt a headache approaching and was about to make everyone keep their tongues when the sound of the elevator stopped him. With ears tense; once the doors opened he started to sniff the air involuntary and frowned immediately. The sound of sharp stilettos hitting the floor of the corridor like nails reached his ears more intensely which each step. And the scent ... it was almost like smelling an old forgotten memory, mixed with the smell of smog and perfume.

The blond woman brought her hand to her ear device and Logan managed to catch the 'Cat's on the roll. Good luck' line. Her eyes widened and looked at the man.

"Look Sinclair… She is coming this way. Please, please, leave the office. I don't want any more problems."

The tall man looked at her and then down the entrance.

"Good. Then she'll have to listen to me and stop undermine the agency's orders."

The man stormed out of the room to meet the said approaching 'cat'. Soon the silhouette became visible and the sound of her sure, hastened steps was heard by everyone.

"What authority do you have to free spies whenever you desire? This man had broken through our system and you take him from our agents' hands without an interrogatory?" As the voice thundered closer and close the stilettos moved forward unaffected. Right before entering in the office Logan took a step ahead in recognition.

"You can't do that!"

The legs seemed to have no end as they passed the doorsteps and stopped in a pirouette with the long high ponytail swaying over the shoulders and one hand gripping the edge of the door.

The body of the woman curved as her hand slowly slid down to the handle. At that the man froze in front of her, his words long forgotten at her low voice.

"I just did that; about 4 minutes ago."

Her hand pushed forcefully, the door slamming right in his face. The gesture was cursively follower by another half pirouette which left the woman facing the two men, hands on her curvy hips.

The standing man looked up from the elegant stilettos to the knee lengthened pencil skirt (too tight if you were to ask him), up to the beige satin shirt and dark auburn hair, some of the white locks falling along one side of a smart grin.

"Hello Logan."

Damned him be… This certainly wasn't Rogue anymore…this was trouble.