Title: What I wouldn't give...
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and do not make any money from them. Therefore, don't sue me. Please.
Rating: I'm not sure yet. I guess this part is PG-13; after all, there is major Jean-hating.
A/N: I intended to make it deep and angsty, but it took a turn for the lighter, kind of funnier (hopefully) side. I have tons of other X-Men fic, most of it dark, but this is the first I'm posting.
Feedback: Please!!
It was over. Logan and Jean were -officially- a couple. They held hands in the hallway, kissed in the middle of the rec room, patted each other, smiled, and made a whole heck of a lot of noise in the night. And, it killed the woman with long, platinum streaks raining through her dark brown hair. After the initial shock of actually losing him to her, Rogue had wiped away her tears, promising herself those two days would be the last time she would cry for him. She loved Logan; but she wouldn't destroy his happiness- even if it was the abominable Jean that pleased him.
And, as hard as it was to admit- Jean made Logan happy. At least, she had at first. The two had become inseparable, sickening, lovestruck; always crooning to each other, touching each other, becoming oblivious to others around them. And, Rogue still had to smile. She still had to pretend as if it didn't hurt. She wanted Logan to be happy, even if she wasn't. She refused to ruin his happiness. The love she felt for him wouldn't allow her to ruin Logan's chance at being in love; he'd been lost and alone for so long, and now he had someone stable, someone beautiful, someone that wanted him - but it wasn't her. It killed. Oh, God, it killed. But, she could never let him know that. He'd been willing to sacrifice his life for her; the least she could do was sacrifice her love- for his happiness.
Journal,
I wish I could say it gets easier as the days go by- but it doesn't. In fact, it gets harder to bear, harder to even be in the same room when they look at each other like that. Does he love her? The thought that he might hurts so bad- burns in the pit of my stomach. I love him! I love him so much! It's not fair! I need him so much. I want him to need me, want him to love me. But, he doesn't. And, he still depends on me to be there for him, to be there in the few moments he isn't with Jean. I- I don't even know how to explain it anymore...
"Rogue?" Logan stepped into the rec. room, surprised that she was sitting there by herself.
Placing the small, fat journal beside her on the couch, Rogue brushed away an almost unnoticeable tear before glancing up at the large man in the doorway. "Hey, Logan." Her attempt to smile failed miserably; but Logan didn't seem to notice.
"I have a favor to ask you," he said, flopping onto the couch beside her, and wagging his eyebrows plaintively.
"What?"
"Well," Logan paused, sitting up straighter in his seat, "In a few days, it's Jean's birthday and I have absolutely no idea what to get her. Could you help me pick out a gift?"
A sickening feeling bubbled in the pit of her belly. No, she didn't want to help him. The last thing she wanted to do was try and think of ideas of what Logan could get Jean for her birthday. Hmm... how about a one-way ticket to Greenland - by herself. How about blonde hair dye? Maybe a book on how not to be a slut. Maybe he could buy her one of those shirts that say clearly across the front, White Trash. Yea, the last thing she wanted to do was buy something for the logan-stealing, scott dumping, telepathic, 'I like a man whose dangerous' red-head. Her hair probably wasn't even really red anyway.
Yet, somehow, she found the words, "Sure, Logan," popping out of her mouth. Who knows? Maybe she could convince Logan 'White-Trash' t-shirts are what every woman wants.
Rogue grimaced as he ruffled her hair, a large grin plastered on his face. "Thanks, kid. You're the best."
(Later- At the Mall)
"Umm, are you sure she'd like that, kid?" Logan glanced doubtfully at the bright pink granny cardigan Rogue had pulled off of one of the racks.
"Uh-huh. Absolutely." Stretching the cardigan over herself to model it for him, she nodded approvingly. "Stuff like this drives women wild."
He laughed as if she were telling him a very bad joke, and glanced idly around the store. "How about this?" he asked, taking out a black tube top, with a dark red rose embroidered on the left side of the chest. Rogue had to keep her mouth from dropping; Logan had good taste. Setting the cardigan back on the hanger, she rushed over to the top and felt the black, silky material between her fingers. Perfect- for her.
"No, Logan," she said, clearing her throat. "Jean would hate that."
Frowning slightly at her, and gazing regretfully back at the top, Logan asked, "Why? It seems perfect to me."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "To you, it does. But, to women as old as Jean, it's insulting." Trying to keep a straight face as his frown deepened, Rogue grabbed his arm and led him away from that section. "Okay. Maybe you shouldn't get her something to wear. Get her... a pin!" she cried, lifting a small Goofy character pin off a pin cushion.
Now Logan looked at her like she had two heads. "You're joking, right?"
"Yeah..." Laughing half-heartedly, Rogue put the pin back and dragged him from the store.
"Maybe you should stick with a card.." she began, but trailed off as she realized Logan wasn't behind her. Instead, he had stopped a few feet from a window, and his eyes were locked onto -OH GOD, NO!- a beautiful, gold bracelet with diamond stones peaking out.
"I'll get her that," he said firmly, tapping the glass. As Rogue came up to him, he glanced at her, daring her to comment.
Sighing defeatedly, and recognizing the stubbornly set expression on his face, she assented. "Fine."
So much for the 'White-Trash' t-shirt.
"Rogue?"
Scowling, Rogue pressed her fingers to her lips and pulled Scott out of the doorway, quickly closing and locking it behind him.
"What's the matter with you? Don't you know better than to sneak up on people?"
"I was just looking for the broom." Reaching up into the darkness, he pulled on the long cord connected to the lightbulb, causing Rogue to hiss as light filled the room and blinded her. Well, it wasn't a room as much as it was a closet. The width of it was barely enough to fit a bed inside (and believe me, Rogue had tried), but it could fit two people comfortably, if they made no sudden movements. "What are you doing here?"
"Umm," Glancing around the janitor's closet, Rogue realized she didn't have a clue. Out of all the places she could have chosen, she'd picked the janitor's closet. It was crowded, dusty, and dark; but, at least it didn't smell. "I come in here to be alone," she finished lamely.
Scott gave her an 'uh-huh, whatever' look and then suddenly, his forehead cleared as he came to a revelation. "You're hiding!" he cried.
"Nuh-uh." Shifting uncomfortably to her other foot, and avoiding Scott's gaze behind his ruby red glasses, she knew she'd given herself away. But, who could blame her? It was Jean's birthday today, and basically everyone was talking about it. Supposedly, it was the big 4-0 for Jean, but Rogue suspected she'd lied off about ten years. She did not want to go out there and clap as that red-head blew out a whole bunch of candles, or look on as she oohed and ahhed at Logan's gift to her. And, if anyone noticed her missing, they'd look for her in the obvious places, and demand to know why she wasn't celebrating that (expletive)'s birthday. Yes -the closet was the only safe place. "I just came in here for- inspection." Even as she said it, she winced and cursed herself. Stupid-stupid-stupid-stupid-stupid.
"Inspection?" Kinking one eyebrow at her, Scott leaned up against the wall, showing no signs of leaving any time soon.
"Oh, come on, Scott!" She wasn't above pleading. "I can't stand being out there. How can you act so calm as the woman that dumped you after five years of commitment is blowing out candles and Logan is there to kiss her?"
Scott shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I'm fine with it."
Uh-huh. That didn't fool her for a second. "He bought her a bracelet," she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. Silently commending herself as Scott seemed to falter for a moment, she continued, "And it was expensive! You should have seen how many zeroes were on that puppy."
Suddenly, the fearless leader didn't look so well- in fact, he looked a bit green. "Oh," was all he could manage. "Well.. umm, do you mind having company?"
Smiling smugly to herself, Rogue sat down indian-style on the floor of the closet. She patted the small space next to her. "Not at all."