Title: Not Your Girl
Summary: Rogue makes a bid for independence after she finds love with someone unexpected, but Logan isn't willing to accept she doesn't want him anymore.
Major Characters: St. John, Rogue, Logan, Scott, Bobby, Kitty
Minor Characters: Jubilee, Ororo
Pairings: Rogue/Pyro, one-sided!Logan/Rogue
Setting: AU Post-X3. Most of the fic carries on from X3 (Alcatraz attack, the existance of the cure) but with a few differences: Scott survived Jean's return as Phoenix, Rogue never took the cure, and Pyro never left the school.
A/N: Instead of emphasizing the crush on Rogue's part, this fic is mainly one-sided (Logan's POV) Logan/Rogue. I wanted to try something a little different, and hopefully pulled it off. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think and how it can be improved.
I breathe in her scent before I hear her arriving; turning around, I watch Rogue drift through the door of the Danger Room. She is flanked by Bobby on her left and St. John on her right, Kitty at her heels. I've never quite gotten over the appeal of seeing her in leather, and considering I've required the advanced students to wear their uniforms to the training session today, her appearance is stunning. Tight leather pants hug her hips and smooth down her thighs, the bustier she wears flaunts her curves. She steals my breath and never even notices.
While Jubilee and Kitty vy to be my partner for the exercize, I watch Rogue warm up. She stretches her left leg before her, bending down until her hands are balanced on the floor. Her eyes are on St. John, and he is staring back at her with an intensity that is almost scary. Bobby seems oblivious, standing upright, coating his hands in a thin layer of ice before letting his body turn completely to ice, translucent blue, then back to flesh. I watch Rogue wiggle her ass as she bends to touch her toes, and nearly growl at the smirk on St. John's face as he stares at her. He licks his lips and then I do growl, making Kitty jump, but neither Rogue nor St. John pay any attention. Rogue slides into a split, smiling affectionately at Bobby when he notices and walked over, but Pyro's gaze never falters as he stares at Rogue like she is a steak and he is starving.
"All right!" My voice booms loudly through the room, and that drags Rogue off the floor. "Partner up."
Reluctantly, Rogue allows Bobby to catch hold of her wrist. Pyro steps back, nodding towards Jubilee, but I reach him before she does, pulling him towards the front by his shoulder.
"Ah, come on," he hisses, his voice low but not so silent I can not hear.
"Quiet," I snap back. "Concentrate for once and you could learn something." There is no way I was letting him near Rogue, not again. I'm not particularly fond of Bobby either, knowing Rogue could do better, but at least Bobby is a gentleman. He doesn't look her over like she is a buffet spread out before him, the way Pyro does as I watch, anger building, and although I definitely do not like the idea of them getting physical, from what I'd gleaned from Rogue's diary, he'd done nothing more than give her a chaste peck on the cheek every now and then when he musters the courage. St. John, on the other hand, is not known to be a man of restraint.
"Your mission is simple -- rescue one of our own." I'd had a different simulation in mind, but watching Rogue flirt with St. John makes me want to shake things up; at least that is what I tell myself as the plan forms. She is getting into hot water, drifting closer so she can hover near St. John, which reminds me of the time we'd nearly lost her atop the Statue of Liberty. I feel like I'm losing her as St. John captures her attention again. "We're up against Mags and Co. today, so be prepared for all the usual suspects: Mystique, Sabertooth, Marko and the rest of the Brotherhood."
"Who're we saving?" Pyro asks, all business as we gear up and complete our final stretches.
"Her," I say, jabbing a finger towards Rogue. My voice is loud enough for her to hear and she glances up in surprise.
"What?"
"You're the bait, kid," I inform her. "Come on up."
She walks towards me with an annoyed expression on her face, her arms crossed over her chest. I distantly hear Jubilee sigh, but Rogue ignores that, as do I. "Whose got me?" she asks, resigned.
Calmly, I rest one hand on her shoulder, the other settling as close to her hip as I dare. "Me."
"What?" Pyro demands, but I glare at him before he can say anything more, and he falls silent.
"A little twist," I supply. "You've got to find Rogue before Magneto does, and then you've got to try to get her away."
"From you?" Kitty breathes nervously.
"Yep." My grip tightens on Rogue's shoulder as I activate the simulation. The room seems to expand impossibly, the bland scenery changing into water, land, a tall perch above a small island.
"You've got to be kidding me," Rogue whispers as we rise alongside the Statue of Liberty, which forms around us. In the tower, at the top - she is completely pale and I falter for a moment, regretting all those memories I am re-awakening in her. I stop myself from changing the sim though, the heartache at what had almost happened to her surfacing. The kids need this practice, hell, I need this, to see that they could save her if they opportunity presented itself. I have never forgotten how limp and still she had been, her skin's warmth fading as I hauled her out of her restraints and crushed her body against me. Soon, the kids will become X-men, those that aren't going to college first anyway, and I have to know that if I wasn't there, they could rescue her.
Quietly, I take her gloved hand in mine and lead her through the large lobby where I'd first clapped eyes on Mystique. Seeing in Mystique an exact replica of myself, complete with a dirty grin like she was really enjoying me driving my claws towards her face, had given me momentary pause, giving her an initial advantage. It had been strange, ducking to avoid my own claws. Hers had shattered upon contact, and my breath had emerged from my frozen lungs then; for one horrible second, I'd thought it was another me, some animal created in a lab and unleashed. When I'd finally stabbed her, as Storm, and watched her body turn blue, I'd been utterly relieved.
"I don't like this," Rogue whispers softly, her breath in my ear.
"I have to know," I state. "If they can do this." She seems to understand, and falls silent, so I go on, my memories flooding me. "When Magneto had you -- I could hear you screaming, but --" I pause, feeling her hands shake. Pulling her close to me, so her head rests against my chest and I can stroke her hair, I go on. "I couldn't reach you. Magneto had us all restrained and there was no way to fight him at first. It made me sick, hearing you above me crying out for help and not being able to rescue you, and then, when I was able to get to you, he held me back with my own damn adamantium. I watched your hair change color." I touch her hair, remembering her voice as she'd cried and the front strands of her hair went white. "If Scott hadn't been able to blast Magneto, I don't know what would have happened. By the time I got to you, you were nearly dead. I touched you and nothing happened." Swallowing, I hear her crying softly and feel like a bastard for bringing up all the memories that torture her, but it isn't something I can help standing here, in the artificial representation of Liberty Island. "I thought you were dead. Now I need to know that if I wasn't there, the team could rescue you."
She raises her head and looks at me with reddened eyes, tears hanging off her long lashes. "Logan," she begins, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She gives me a small smile. "I'm not a little girl anymore."
Her proximity arouses in me the jealousy and protectiveness I've felt forever. "I know that," I tell her, trying not to leer as my gaze travels down her body, drinking in the sight of her curves clothed in leather.
"Then you know you don't have to take care of me anymore," she goes on, and something about that hurts. "I can take care of myself. You don't have to relive awful events to make sure they'd come out all right the next time. There won't be a next time." She looks a little defiant and takes a step back when I touch her hair. "Do you want me to dye my hair?"
"Huh?" I can't make sense of the direction she's taken the conversation.
"Well, I thought maybe the white streaks remind you of that day." I don't understand and she apparently senses that, because she goes on. "You touch my hair all the time."
"Because I like your hair," I answer firmly, breathing in the scent of it. She uses a very light clarifying shampoo, something without a heavy floral scent, and I can smell her beneath it always, which I like.
Ignoring me as my hands go back to stroke her hair, she eyes the scenario below. We have a bird's eye vantage point; beneath us the students scurry in small boats to catch up to a larger ship, the Coast Guard vessel Mystique drives to the island. They are falling behind, I notice, my heart sinking. I catch Marie's hand as she leans out the window but she pulls away, shrugging me off. Instead of touching her, I join her by the window, following her gaze. She is staring at one of the boats as it catches up to the one carrying Erik and Mystique. For a minute I'm heartened, then I notice that the driver is St. John.
Pulling her away from the window, I try to smile. "How about a tour?"
"I'd rather --" she starts, but I lead her away and she complies, following me through the lobby. We walk past the plaques and the selection of brochures. "I never saw this part," she tells me. "I was strapped into the machine while we were in the boat, and he lifted it up from the outside. I guess I flew," she remarks bitterly.
I tell her about fighting Mystique here, the awkward experience of fighting an identical twin. She laughs a little and pats me on the shoulder when I tell her how Mystique licked her lips and charged me, then in mid-air transformed into her own shape. The laughter stills when we feel the ground beneath us shudder. It could be Colossus, but I know it is Magneto, and so does Rogue. She pales, her hands grabbing hold of my uniform jacket. "No."
"Shush." I grab her hand and drag her over to a shadowed corner, making sure her back is against the wall before stepping in front of her protectively. I don't want anyone to touch her while my back is turned. Her chest heaves with panicked breaths, her breasts brushing against my back though I doubt she realizes it. She is caught in a web of fear, forgetting this is a program, completely artificial. I hate myself for putting her through this, but selfishly keep it going. Motionless, we listen.
Outside, a sudden commotion. Rogue escapes me and runs to the window. I follow her, peering down at the battle below. Someone must have dragged Magneto down as he flew towards us, bceause currently Kitty and Colossus are facing him. Piotr doesn't hold up well. He dons his armor, but that gives Magneto an edge, forcing him flat on his back on the ground as Mystique reaches for Kitty. She phases just in time, but stops in her tracks as Mystique's form slims down to a replica of her petite shape. Facing herself, Kitty is caught off guard. I almost snicker, remembering my own experience, but it is too important to me that she shakes off the confusion and gets on with it.
Beside me, Rogue cringes as Magneto summons Sabretooth. It takes the burly mutant less than a second to rip Piotr's throat clean through. It is a simulation, of course, and Piotr is just out of the game, but Rogue starts to cry at the image of his body bleeding in the dirt, and I feel my own heart sink. Piotr's one of the toughest of the kids, and the most level headed, my vote for next team leader should Scott kick the bucket or retire. The students have just lost a valuable team member for the duration of the simulation.
"Hush, Rogue," I whisper, taking both her hands in mine as we watch Bobby and St. John join the fight. Mystique is still dealing with Kitty, unable to help Magneto as he gains a sudden coat of ice. The next minute, as he shakes free of Bobby's ice, Pyro hits him with fire. The flames engulf him as Pyro weaves a ring of fire around his body. Screaming, Magneto drags himself out of the flames, then bitterly wraps a metal rod around Pyro before the boy can dart or run. It binds him still and crushes the lighter he carries everywhere. Bobby is caught off guard, alone.
I wrap my arms around Rogue as Kitty darts and phases in vain. She gets one good punch in, but Mystique is too quick for her, leaping and kicking and catching Kitty before the girl to work her mutation and phase through Mystique's defensive limbs. One foot connects with Kitty's head and she sprawls on the ground near Piotr, unconscious. Abruptly, I stop watching. Rogue shakes a little, her head on my shoulder, and I pick her up. We're going to the top, the safest place, high above the action, maybe high enough to give me time to think how to handle it when Magneto and the rest get up here. I figure I'm meaner than any motherfucker who could kidnap Rogue in real life, but I'm so distracted by Rogue's scent, and the fear nearly tangible on her skin. Carrying Rogue in my arms, I make for the stairs, but a sudden bellow from down below, barely audible, catches my attention. I risk a glance outside and see Magneto fade out of the simulation, an icicle piercing him through the heart. Amazed, I glance down at Bobby. His hands shake, covered with simulated blood. As I watch, he frees Pyro and shakes Kitty out of her daze. Together, the three of them come for Rogue.
"Shit," I mutter. Inside, I'm bursting with pride in my team. They conquered Mags. Mystique's whereabouts are unknown, but the three kids are together and alive. I curse and wonder what happened to Jubilee, but my part in the simulation is coming now, and I am determined to make them work their asses off to get Rogue from me.
We go to the torch. Rogue takes one look around and goes pale, glancing around as if she expects to see Magneto's destructive weapon around here somewhere. "It's okay," I tell her, my fingers brushing through her hair. She's right, I do it a lot. It seems to be an obsession. Setting her down, I pull her close to me when she attempts to look over the edge. "No. Stay close."
"That's right, I'm your captive," she retorts sarcastically to cover up her nervousness.
I catch hold of her wrist and grip her hard. "Damn straight," I answer, jarring my thoughts to a halt as they head towards a favorite fantasy. "So act like it." With more force than I intend, I pull her arm behind her back, effectively cutting off any opportunity of movement. Holding her still, I hardly realize I'm nuzzling against her hair, my mouth open, practically purring. The dominance of holding her in place makes me high, but then I notice she is saying something, and pause to concentrate, my hand clamping down on her shoulder.
"I forgot, you like it rough," she says, laughing, her words freezing me to the spot. Did she just say that? I can't believe it. She laughs openly at me. "I have you in my head, remember, Wolvie?" she tells me, her face innocent again. She struggles to get out of my grasp and I nearly let her, I'm so surprised.
I nod slowly, thinking of the nameless women back on the fighting circuit, the rough sex in seedy motels. "I didn't realize you had all that."
"And worse," she reminds me, smirking again. Unconsciously, I tighten my grip on her, one hand keeping her hands still, the other arm wrapped around her stomach, forcing her back against me until her ass is pressed against the erection I was trying to hide. She falls silent, so I let go of her hands and turn her towards me, my thumb raising her chin so she'll look me in the eye.
Her face is still the picture of amusement despite our precarious situation. Her dark eyes sparkle as she looks me over, taking in the raised eyebrows and the quickened breathing. Her smile fades slowly and she bites her lip, regarding me without saying a word. I can see myself reflected in her eyes and I feel uncomfortably warm all over. Before she can look away, I catch hold of her hair and pull her close to me, then kiss her. It's not a gentle kiss, it's a needy one. Hot and desperate, my tongue flicks over her lips before rushing through their barrier, needing to taste her mouth. She doesn't move, doesn't kiss me back. I hardly notice, crushing my mouth against hers, sliding my tongue into her mouth with heavy thrusts. One hand cups her left breast through her uniform bustier, my fingers trailing over the nipple as I kiss her even harder. Snarling slightly, I nip her bottom lip hard enough to bruise her, needing to assert dominance and claim her. Maybe it is St. John's scent on her skin, or jealousy from their interaction at warmup; but primarily I keep going because she doesn't respond, and I need her to. It is only when I come up for air that I notice she is pushing me away, her hands against my shoulders, her cheeks hot and her eyes pained.
St. John reaches for her before I can pull her back, and that is when I become aware of the three kids. Bobby is gaping at me in blank, hurt horror; Kitty, for some reason I cannot fathom, is crying. St. John, however, seems much more aware of the situation than the other two. He has one arm around Rogue, who is resting her head on his shoulder and breathing rapidly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His other hand contains a fireball. He gives me a menacing glare, his teeth actually bared, before tossing it. I feel the raging heat as the fire crackles against my skin; it burns, until Bobby's good samaritan kicks in and he douses the flames for me in a sheet of ice.
Back in the danger room, Colossus rises unsteadily from the floor, and Jubilee, who got captured by Magneto before even reaching the island, gets free of her imagined bonds, but St. John, Bobby and Kitty don't fade, as much as I want them to. Bobby looks at his girlfriend in Pyro's arms and doesn't say a word, just pats her shoulder awkwardly. He doesn't fight for her, doesn't take her away from St. John, and I want to shout at him for that, or better yet do it myself, but I don't move. Softly, I hear the words Rogue whispers to Pyro.
"I'm so sorry, John. I didn't mean it to happen. I don't know why he --" she looks at me over her shoulder and starts crying again.
"Rogue," I say, and reach for her, because she's my girl and for the life of me, I have no idea what's wrong. She flees from my touch, running right out of the danger room. I stab a finger at St. John instead of snatching her back. "You -- get out of my sight. You're finished with this class."
He goes without a sound, moving rapidly in the direction Rogue ran. I start to stop him so I can chase after her myself, but he whirls on me when I approach. "I did what you asked. I got her away from you." His voice is smug, defiant. With that, he walks away to where Rogue is sitting with her back to the wall, her face buried in her hands. My claws flick out of their own accord as he sinks down beside her, enfolding her in a hug as she leans against him wearily. I watch him gently kiss her lips, and then I am striding down the hallway, causing them both to leap up to their feet. Pyro bolts, taking Rogue by the hand, but I catch her before they can disappear on me.
"If you want to keep breathing, get the hell away from her," I advise him fiercely. He looks at Rogue, who nods at him to go, and walks off, shooting her looks over his shoulder. I catch hold of Rogue's hand and pull her back to the danger room, which is empty, the other students having seized the opportunity to run. Once we enter, I lock the door behind us, not wanting interference.
"What did I do?"
"I think you know," she snaps back. She looks angry, but what gets me most of all is the hurt in her eyes. She sidesteps me as I reach to touch her hair, mistrust evident in her expression. "What the hell, Logan?" she manages to ask before her voice shakes and her eyes brim with tears again.
"I kissed you. I -- I thought you wanted it." God, this is awkward. She glares at me through tearstained eyes, and I go on. "Rogue, I'm sorry if I misunderstood. We've always --" I break off, thinking of the times she has run to the door to meet me when I've returned from a long trip; of the dogtags she wore diligently, letting them hang between her breasts like a mark of ownership; the way she's never told me to leave, even when I've come to her room late at night or dragged her away from Bobby because I've needed her with me. I can't explain that, nor can I tell her that lately I've started to notice the way her clothes cling to her curves, or that I've dreamt of her undressed all except the gloves, writhing beneath me.
I hold her hand, hard, so she can't move away, and peel away her glove with my teeth. She glowers at me in confusion, then yelps as I press her bare hand to my face. Instantly, the connection opens. I feel her struggling to let go of me, but I make her hang on a few seconds, until I know the feelings have gotten through.
She staggers away as soon as I release her. Her eyes are wide as she looks at me. "You...?" She trails off, the question shining in her eyes.
"I love you, kid. Marie," I amend, my eyes on her unavoidable cleavage. "I thought maybe you felt the same way."
She backs off, shaking her head. "Logan, no, don't do this to me."
"Do what?" I ask. I watch as she puts her glove back on, covering herself up. I remember the way she has always been towards me, a little too accomodating, a little too welcoming of the way I infringe upon her privacy. It's gone now. She looks like my admission is a death sentence, actually hanging her head, her eyes dark not with intensity of feeling but with sorrow.
"Just don't," she shouts. "God, Logan, I'm not yours to take care of anymore. You can't go from wanting to protect me to wanting to fuck me and --" she sighs. "This is the Wolverine, isn't it?" I look at her questioningly, wondering where she got that from, and she glares. "I know you saw me and John. I know how you are, what's inside you. This is one of those instinctual things, asserting your dominance and all that, defending your territory." She takes a deep breath and touches the side of my face for a second. "I love him. Not," and she falters, her eyes meeting mine apologetically. "Not you."
"Marie, you don't even know this kid," I tell her, my voice taking on a protective tone. In my head, I hear her say it over and over again -- 'not you'. It makes me want to gut somebody, but I reign in my temper, sure she does not mean it. "You can't tell me you're in love with the firestarter. What's he got to offer you, Marie? Tell me." My voice is gruff, challenging, but she refuses the fight.
"He makes me happy," she answers simply, her voice small.
"Happy!" I bellow. My claws are out, slashing dangerously through the air, but I'm hardly aware of that. I rein them in when I drag Marie against me, squeezing her upper arms tightly in a death grip, refusing to let go even when she struggles in pain. "I can make you happy," I tell her, my voice desperate. My hands slide down her arms until I am clinging to her hands, intertwining my fingers with hers. "I can make you happy, if you let me," I whisper, sinking down to my knees. I press my face against her stomach, my teeth bared against the smooth leather of her uniform. Somehow, I am close to tears. "Marie."
"Let me go, Logan," she instructs me uncomfortably. Weakly, my arms release her and fall back at my sides. She frowns down at me. "I'm not a kid anymore."
"No," I agree, breathing in her fragrance as I stare up at her from my position at her feet. "I know that."
"So let me make my own choice, okay?"
"But," I can't help it, I start nuzzling her, rubbing my face against her legs and belly, trying to rub my scent off on her. I'm marking her. She doesn't move away but I feel her stiffen. I take her hands and tangle them in my hair, her supple leather gloves soft to the touch. "You're mine," I tell her simply, unable to understand how she can argue with that plain fact. To the animal within me as well as the man, that is how it's always been. Everyone knows it, even Bobby. He's never protested, never refused to let her go when I came for her. The entire mansion knows she belongs to me, all except her.
"I don't believe you, Logan," she snaps. "How can you say that?" I start to tell her that she is my sole reason for sticking around, for this teaching job, for staying alive, but she cuts me off. "You've fucked all kinds of nameless women in bars, lusted after Jean, flirted with the entire female population of the school. You never once made a move, all the while I wanted you to. We were friends, that was it. That's all I want now." She heads towards the door. "Just leave me alone, Logan. I'm not your girl anymore."