Title: Reasonable Doubts 1/5 - Impasse
Author: Gowdie
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!
Rating: PG13 for language and vague mumbled suggestions of sexual possibilities.
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.
Author Notes: WARNING! I am in a really time consuming program at school and while I want to say I will post once a week, please don't hurt me if I am late.
Note to PETS: I realize Scott only has a brief cameo in this part and I shamelessly use him to poke fun at Logan, but I promise he will be much more realized in Part 2. Please don't send the authorities after me. If there is a similar support group for Storm, I am sorry, she is going to remain pretty much in the shadows. I don't feel the movie gave me enough of her to feel comfortable writing her.
Jean Grey was in a candy-coloured hell. Pastel pink, blue, purple and white balloons floated around her. She was balancing a napkin in her lap with sandwiches cut into hearts and stars. On her head she was wearing, of all things, a hat made of a paper plate covered in ribbons and bows. Sordid, boom, chica, chica, boom, boom music was emanating from the big screen television. It was a surprise shower turned bachelorette party and it was one of the most unsettling events of her life.
The wedding was only two weeks away and she still wasn't sure how she felt about proceeding at this delicate time. Magneto had been released from prison six months ago. With Senator Kelly having been replaced by Mystique it wasn't too much of a surprise. The surprise was that in the past six months they hadn't heard a whisper from the Brotherhood of Mutants. The quiet was more unsettling than any attack could have been. Obviously they were waiting for the perfect moment, whatever that was. Jean and Scott had offered to postpone the wedding but the Professor refused to hear of it. He told them quite frankly that there would always be a battle on the horizon, but they also had lives to lead. They were not to put their future on hold indefinitely due to Eric's manipulations. They would be alert and ready but they would also carry on. Even with Xavier's blessing, Jean still didn't feel at ease.
However, at the precise moment she had an entirely different moral dilemma on her hands. The tawdry music was the soundtrack of a horrendous porn extravaganza. A group of recently turned eighteen-year-olds had supplied the film as a giddy demonstration of their newly acquired adulthood. In a confusing uproar of giggles the tape had been inserted and played before Jean had understood what was happening. Now she was sitting directly opposite a rather traumatized looking Rogue. Jean had watched the girl's face turn from shock to disgust to something new she couldn't quite identify.
Jean managed to get Ororo's attention and made a pointed glance at Rogue. The other woman took in the girl's appearance raised her eyebrows and gave a slight shrug. The two women came to a silent agreement; they would let Rogue take the lead in this situation. If they tried to stop the film their motives might become apparent and they did not want to cause Rogue any embarrassment or make her the centre of an awkward scene.
A few minutes later Jean watched as Rogue rose silently from her seat. Her movement didn't turn a single head, all the girls were two rapt by the action on screen. She slipped from the room almost completely unnoticed. Jean was duly impressed and wondered idly if she could manage a similar disappearance . She wasn't too worried about the recent escapee; Logan was bound to find her soon enough. Logan and Rogue, she still wasn't sure what the exact nature of their relationship was. She knew from his rather uncharacteristic behavior over the last couple of years that Logan loved Rogue. She also knew that Rogue loved him in return and always had, but something still seemed off. She was starting to wonder if the two would ever just sit down and talk it out.
Jean glanced at her watch; only half an hour to go till her ritual Friday night visit to the medical lab. Certainly that was a good enough reason to excuse herself for at least fifteen minutes. In a school full of teenagers a doctor's office contains certain items that draw particular interest on the weekend evenings. Jean considered these visitations as one of her most important functions at the institute, she couldn't afford to miss a single one. Especially if what kept her away was a wedding shower from demento land.
Rogue stood on the second floor balcony and watched the sky. The cool air and bright stars exactly what she needed to clear her head. She couldn't stay in that room with that movie another second. It had been disturbing to say the least. The weird part was after the third couple walked on the screen and started bouncing around she had actually started to become bored, which was even more disturbing. Those were not the images of sex she wanted in her head.
So there she was, on a night she was supposed to spend laughing and drinking with all the other women, standing alone by herself being thoughtful and slightly melancholy. Logan would not be pleased. She wondered just how long it would take him to find her.
Logan. She reached up and touched the dog tags he had returned to her eight months ago. She may not have him the way she would like to, but he had more than kept his promise to always take care of her. He was her best friend.
The six months he had been away were hard. She actually felt herself drifting through those seven stages of grief she had heard so much about in sociology class back home. Bargaining had been the most difficult to wrap her head around. She wasn't sure what she had to offer. "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to always be good," didn't seem right. She had never really been bad, except of course perhaps when she had hitchhiked her way through two countries but she figured God wasn't about to settle for "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to never run again." Obviously if Logan came back and loved her she wouldn't be going anywhere. God was not one to be easily fooled. She never really did come up with something that didn't sound lame.
Anger on the other hand, was quite the phase. She reveled in anger. She skulked around, slammed her books on her desk occasionally and even threw her hairbrush at the wall a couple of times. She suspected that no one guessed the true source of her rage. She wasn't angry that he had left. She was angry that he had made her love him in the first place. The freaking bastard, how dare he? She drew out elaborate fantasies in her mind of hunting him down, slapping him and then yelling in his shocked face "It's your own god damned fault you know!" As far as she was concerned if he didn't want her to love him than he shouldn't have acted the way he did. He played the hero. He risked his own life for hers. He worried about her, tracked her down and convinced her to stay. He showed her physical affection for crying out loud, despite knowing what she could do. Not to mention the fact that she felt him inside her, knowing everything there was to know. Cody had been a young boy, there were no real surprises there and Magneto had been very careful to only let the connection last as long as necessary; he wasn't more than a whisper. But Logan, Logan had hung on, giving her everything he had. She had never felt so close to anyone in her entire life. Of course she had fallen for him! Where exactly did he get the nerve to make her feel the way she did and then turn around and not want her? Men, she fumed, they should all be given a handbook with explicit instructions, "If you don't want a teenage girl to have crush on you then don't go around making her feel special."
Fortunately by the time Logan returned from Canada she had long since moved into acceptance. He would never love her the way she wanted, but he was her friend and he was home.
Their reunion had been so happy and brief she had forgotten about the chain she wore around her neck. They only had time for one hug and a "Hey kid, I missed ya," before he was swept away to the Professor's office. Later that night as she prepared for bed she remembered the tags. She wanted to return them to him, but she suddenly didn't know what to say without looking like a big geek. "Excuse me Logan, man of my dreams whom I worship like a god for saving my life by risking his own, here are the dog tags I have been wearing next to my heart since the day you left." She realized he knew about her crush, she didn't want him to feel weird about it. She decided the best approach was to slip into his room and place the chain on his night stand after he had fallen asleep. Once the task was accomplished without an embarrassing scene he was free to approach her however he wanted, without her clinging to him like some lovesick puppy.
Fortunately for her he approached her the next day. He didn't mention the tags. They ate lunch and discussed what he had found and how she liked the school so far. And so their relationship continued just as it had been, as though he had never left. Eventually they were spending almost all their time together. At some point she noticed he started wearing his leather gloves all the time. She was grateful for the obvious gesture of support, now he could touch her like a friend without always having to think about it. He knew how much she craved affection and made sure she received some regularly. Perhaps he touched her more than a normal friend but theirs was not a normal relationship. He seemed to be on some kind of mission to banish any feeling of isolation she could possibly have. Of course that just made her love him even more. But rather than let her heart ache, she just reminded herself how lucky she was to have him in her life at all.
Then eight months ago the dog tags reappeared on her bedside table.
A week before, they had been eating dinner together when Scott and Jean got up and announced their engagement to the school. Everyone was clapping, Logan was just sitting there with a blank expression on his face and she was watching him in horror. Gently she touched his arm and asked, "Are you okay?"
He swung around to face her with this almost angry look in his eyes, "I'm fine," he growled. He turned back to the couple and remained silent for the rest of the meal. When he got up to leave he patted her head and grunted, "I'll see ya tomorrow kid." Rogue was no idiot; clearly the engagement was a topic not to be discussed. She never brought it up again.
A week later she woke up to find his dog tags sitting there staring her in the face. Knowing it had to mean he had left again, she burst into tears. She didn't understand how he could leave without saying goodbye. Briefly she considered the idea that something had happened over night. He had been killed and that someone left the tags for her not wanting to wake her with the horrible news. But almost instantly she realized that no, if that happened, Jean would be the one to tell her and she would do so immediately, even at three o'clock in the morning. No, clearly he was just gone. Maybe he didn't want to watch her cry. She stayed in bed and sobbed for about an hour.
Eventually she calmed down, reminding herself that last time he had given her the tags as a promise to return. Therefore, jerk or not, he would be back again ... and then she could kill him. Solemnly she put the chain around her neck, washed her face, dressed and prepared to face the world.
She walked into the dining hall looking at her feet, avoiding the eyes of everyone who must be staring at her in sympathy. Only when she got to "their" table did she bother to look up. There he was, sitting and shoving a plate full of freaking eggs into his mouth. After the moment of shock passed she lunged at him. She nearly knocked him off his chair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his stomach. "Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."
He stroked her head and promised, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere."
After recovering emotionally Rogue tried to piece together what the tags meant. She decided the fact they arrived a week after Jean's engagement was obviously significant. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Rogue had been exposed to Logan's feelings for Jean. She had also seen his fantasies. Things like that didn't just go away. But apparently now he had resigned himself to the fact that Jean would never be his. Jean was officially and forever beyond his reach. Perhaps he was trying to solidify the one relationship he did have rather than mourning the one he wished for, but lost. Whatever the case, Rogue knew, though a powerful symbol of his promise to her, the tags didn't really change anything.
So there they were, the woman who couldn't be loved by a man, and the man who had given up on finding love with a woman. At least they had each other and that was not something to be taken for granted. Their relationship may not be the one she wanted but it was special. Besides, she couldn't be with anyone, at least she got to be close to the man she would choose if she could. It also seemed he was more content than he had been in the past. She had experienced his passion for Jean, but Rogue had also felt just how deeply he cared for her. She knew he was happy to have found someone to care about that cared about him and she knew she brought him some level of peace.
Still holding the tags, Rogue shivered slightly. The spring air still had a slight chill in it. Just what was taking him so long to find her anyway?
Logan was miserable. Marie had been abducted from him by a pack of freakishly scary gaggling girls. His choices for entertainment for the evening were hanging out with the boys of the school (no thanks), or cards with Scott and Xavier. He had actually given in to the card game for about an hour, but there were only so many of their calm polite "I'll take two pleases" he could take. Especially since he highly suspected they had suggested the game out of pity. Apparently both men were far too keenly aware of what a co-dependent whipped pansy he had become. Overwhelmed with the need to assert his independent manliness he had left the table and announced he had some very important, um, stuff to do. After that he ended up wandering aimlessly. Yep, very independent and manly indeed.
He was wondering through the main second floor hallway when he caught a whiff of Marie's distinctive scent. Thank God. He followed his nose and found the door to the balcony open. She was standing there watching the sky and fingering his dog tags. He stayed back for a moment to breathe her in. He silently congratulated himself on what an act of genius it had been to give her those tags. He thought this at least once a day.
When he awoke that first morning, after his return from Canada, the tags had been waiting for him on his bedside table. He had been a little disappointed, he hadn't been sure why. At lunch she didn't mention it and he decided not to press the issue. He had known she had a crush on him when he left, maybe this was her way of letting him know she was over it. Maybe it was for the best.
But over the next few days he started to realize that their relationship hadn't changed since he left. They still sought each other out. She still confided in him about her feelings regarding her new life and he told her about the things he didn't know about his. He edited out some of the things he did know; she was after all, still only seventeen.
Eventually he was spending almost all his spare time with her. Normally his outlook was pretty dark. Somehow it wasn't so much anymore. Though Marie felt alone, she loved life and he admired that. Oddly enough her influence rubbed off on him. Oh, he wasn't about to sing praises to the sky or the flowers or anything and he was still pretty grumpy, but the gloom was a little less gloomy. She taught him how to play fooze ball of all things and he just thought that was bizarre. He taught her how to play a real man's game, pool. About three weeks later she cleaned up the table with his ass.
As time went by he realized he was lusting after Jean less and less. Okay, so she still was a nice piece of eye candy, but he didn't feel the need to drool anymore. Hitting on her even became less fun until the day came when it didn't even occur to him. Scott was thrilled.
During their first summer at the school together he allowed Marie to teach him how to swim. Well, kind of.
One night after seeing her to her door, he was walking down the hallway when he heard an unusually hesitant voice behind him. "Logan?" He turned. "Do you ever like to go swimming?"
Hands in his pockets, he narrowed his eyes at the odd question and answered honestly, "No."
Her eyes darted to the floor and then back up again. A shy smile, "Okay, I was just wondering. Good night." A wave and she was gone. He stood there frowning at her door for at least a minute before he shook his head and walked away.
A few days later, on one of their walks, he caught the wistful glance she gave the students swimming as they passed the lake. She didn't think he had noticed. He couldn't believe what an idiot he had been. MARIE liked to swim. For a moment he thought if the other kids had refused to ask her along, or worse had actively turned her down, he would have to start pounding some heads. But he realized it was far more likely she had decided not to put them in that position. Swimming would involve exposed skin. Marie had asked him because she trusted the fact that he was the one person who wouldn't be afraid to swim with her. And he, brilliant ass that he was, had turned her down.
The next morning he appeared in her room at seven a.m. in a pair of cut off jeans. When she didn't awake immediately he chucked his towel at her head. With a sleepy moan she pulled the towel off and blinked at him in confusion. "Well come on kid, do you want to go in the lake or not?" The beautiful smile that spread across her face was worth even the humiliation of being caught in shorts.
Of course there was still the humiliation of realizing he didn't actually know how to swim. Caught up in making Marie happy he hadn't thought that part through. In the sixteen years he did remember he had never needed to swim. Apparently his former self had never needed to either.
And that was how he ended up spending an entire summer flailing around in three feet of water, on his back, while Marie stood five feet away and shouted instructions like, "Good, just be still. If you relax you'll float naturally." He restrained himself from commenting that he was rather unnaturally built to sink like a piece of lead. "And remember you're not allowed to drown cause I can't save you!" At this point, as he managed a position distantly related to a float he would find himself idly wondering two things. One, was it possible for him to drown? (How did a mutant healing factor contend with two lungs full of water?) And two, why was it when he would be pummeling anyone else, did he actually like it when Marie spoke to him this way? Splash! "Are you paying attention? I said to try kicking your feet!"
After a half hour of her drill sergeant routine he was allowed to retire to the bank. There he would sit and watch her. Sometimes she would swim laps back and forth in front of him. Sometimes she would do somersaults and perform other tricks. Sometimes she would simply float and watch the clouds go by. With the peaceful quiet, blue sky, green trees and crystal lake with a happy girl floating at the center, it was a perfect moment and he would soak it in. He had chosen the seven a.m. wake up call on purpose. On these mornings she would romp around, skin exposed to the world, normal and free. He didn't want anyone else to put so much as a toe into that water if it would make her uncomfortable.
After a while she would join him. Dripping and slightly tanned she would plop down in front of him on the grass. Her skin was only inches from his, yet she didn't even seem to notice. He loved that he could do this for her.
In July and August they would have time to sit and chat in the sun until their suits dried. Towards the end of the summer she would comment on how it was sad that soon it would be too cold to swim. "But then I guess if it gets cold enough the lake will freeze and we can try skating." He honestly tried to conceal the look of horror on his face at the image of his hulking mass teetering around on skates. "Oh come on, if you really are from Canada you must have played hockey at some point!"
Logan smiled at the memory. Somehow, that entire summer had passed and he hadn't realized what he was feeling. It wasn't until about a year after their first swimming adventure that he realized he was physically restraining himself from touching Marie. When they were having a quiet moment he wanted to hold her hand, or worse, caress her face. What the hell was going on? Once they were having a conversation about college, she was commenting that she was happy she had decided to attend via correspondence. She had just been to the city to write her first set of exams. For the first time in almost two years she had felt alone in the world. She was glad she had decided to stay with her family. She was glad she had decided to stay with him. His hand was in mid air about to stroke her cheek before he even realized it. She saw him coming and instinctually pulled back a bit. He paused, they both smiled awkwardly and then he touched her hair instead.
That night he put a couple cigars in his jacket pocket and went to spend some quality time in the woods. The school, with all its sounds and smells was too distracting. He needed to be somewhere completely alone to figure out just what the hell was happening to him. He found a spot where he could still see the sky through the trees. He lay on the ground, eyes on the stars, hands running through the leaves at his sides and focused his mind on only Marie. Intellectually he knew she was the most important person in his life. She actually made him happy. In his heart he also already knew he loved her. The question had become exactly how did he love her. He conjured up a mental image of her and for the first time since he had met her he just let go, let that picture take him where it would. Good god, he was turned on! Part of his mind instantly reared up screaming that he was dirty and she was innocent and pure and he shouldn't be thinking of her that way. But it didn't feel dirty and he knew if he was really honest with himself Marie was no longer a child. Maybe he had just wanted to keep her a child because then he was safe, but he couldn't lie to himself anymore. She was a beautiful, amazing, desirable woman who loved him and he wanted her. He let the feelings wash over him a bit. It felt so good, it felt free. Then he realized he needed to start thinking about something else or he would have to find a more private spot in the woods. And that frustration was the point really. Now that he has accepted the nature of his feelings he still couldn't do anything about it. Shit. Now what?
"Forget about it and move on. Leave if you have to, just get the hell out," his brain told him. "Can't," both his heart and body replied. God damn it, as much as he realized he should be castrated for such a girly thought, Marie was his light. He wanted to bathe in it.
The next morning Logan put on a pair of leather gloves and he was almost never seen without them again. It wasn't a statement really, it was simply acting on a desire. With the gloves on he could touch Marie whenever the fancy occurred to him. And the fancy occurred to him a lot. He spent the next four months finding all sorts of ways to touch her. He gave in to the urge, even though it seemed terribly sappy, and held her hand. He draped his arm around her shoulders or waist whenever they were walking anywhere. He touched her face, her hair, even patted her knee. Finally, at night when he dropped her off at her door, he took her into his arms, gave her a full body hug and whispered in her ear "I love you kid." At first whenever he tried something new her head always snapped around and she looked at him like he was some sort of alien. He would just shrug and smile at her and after a moment she would relax and melt into it. Soon she even started touching him back. Everything was wonderful.
At least he thought everything was wonderful until the day Jean and Scott announced their engagement. Everyone else was clapping. Logan was just sitting there feeling ... nothing at all. He pondered how he would have reacted two years earlier. He would have been upset. He probably would have had to skulk out of the room and steal the jerk's bike to take a long ride alone ... and maybe drive it into a tree. He wasn't sure what he would have done a year ago. He would have at least felt the need to make some wise ass remark, but even that would have been more out of habit than anything real. But then, there he was, not even a glimmer of jealousy or regret. Marie truly was the only woman he wanted to be with. He was even kind of happy for the pair. He felt himself frown slightly at how odd a thought that was.
Then he heard a voice far more timid than usual asking him, "Are you alright?"
Logan swung around and looked at her in absolute shock. Why the hell was she asking him that? He knew he should be saying something, but the look on of honest concern on her face had him absolutely stupefied, not to mention slightly horrified. Finally, he forced out, "I'm fine," perhaps a little more harshly than he should have. He turned back to face the front of the room and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He seriously did not like the possibilities he was being faced with. Marie didn't know. Somehow, despite all his puppy dogesque behavior over the last four months this mystery of a woman had failed to grasp his point. The little happy world he had been living in, where everything was wonderful, was brought to its knees. The room was closing in on him. He had to get away from all the noise and the expression on Marie's face that was making him feel sick to his stomach. Overwhelmed by the uncontrollable need to run he rose from his seat. At a loss for what else to do or say, but knowing saying nothing wasn't right either, he patted her head and told her he would see her the next day.
Logan did a lot of pacing that week. He paced in the halls, he paced throughout the grounds and he paced in his room at night. When he was with Marie he felt himself looking at her with this big confused question mark plastered on his face. He couldn't stop himself from starring at her like the crazy person she clearly was, but he knew the last thing she needed was his dumb face calling her insane, so he decided it was best to try to avoid looking at her at all.
Okay, clearly she needed something from him, but what more could he do? In any other situation he would have attempted a seduction long ago, leaving no doubt in her mind exactly what his intentions were, but that route was barred from him. He couldn't even kiss her for crying out loud and he couldn't think of anything else to do beyond what he had been doing that seemed appropriate at this stage.
He needed to come up with some kind of gesture. A statement to show her she was his, or he belonged to her, or whatever. A ring just didn't feel right; nothing else was normal about their relationship, they needed an abnormal gesture.
By the seventh day he was starting to wear a path in the garden. He thought he smelled something vaguely off and stopped, wondering idly if he had remembered to take a shower in the last couple of days in the midst of all his pacing. He scratched his chest. He did feel a little grimy. And then, whamo, it hit him: dog tags!
Next was the issue of delivery. He had managed to pull it off rather smoothly the first time, but this was more important. He really didn't want to end up standing there sputtering, "Hey Marie, here are my dog tags, don't ya want to wear em?" No, that simply would not do.
He slipped into her room that night and watched her sleep. Logan knew he wasn't kidding himself when he thought there had been a time not too long ago that he could have almost any woman he wanted. When he spotted a candidate all he had to do was give her one long hard feral gaze and she was his. Even Jean, despite her constant denials, he knew had been tempted. It was partly her steadfast loyalty and her refusal to give in, in the face of her temptation that had caused him to admire her even more. So how was it that this one girl had reduced him to self-doubt?
His whole being leapt up and screamed the answer. Because you idiot, she is the one girl you actually love. She is the one girl whose life you value more than your own. She is the one girl who, if she said no, might actually cut you open.
Logan heaved a sigh. She was perfect to him, he really didn't want to spoil this moment by fumbling around or saying something stupid. Carefully he placed the chain on her bedside table in exactly the same position he had found it almost two years ago. When she saw it in the morning, she would understand.
The next morning he was a mess. She was over an hour late coming down for breakfast. After forty five minutes he was sure she was going to be the death of him. What if he had been wrong? What if she really had gotten over him when he left the first time? What was he going to do if she was sitting up there embarrassed for him and trying to figure out a way to let him down easy? The questions plaguing him continued to get worse and worse as he animatedly marched back and forth in the back of the dining room while furiously chewing on an unlit cigar. No smoking during meals, of all the dumb ass rules he had ever heard...
Out of nowhere Jean was suddenly standing directly in his path forcing him to come to an abrupt halt. "Logan," in a stern voice, "you are scaring some of the younger students." He looked over. Sure enough there was an entire table of twelve-year-olds staring at him in unabashed terror. He decided he should try to set things right. He winked at them to demonstrate what a friendly guy he was. One of the kids visibly jumped and he heard another gasp. All ten faces immediately swung back to their plates. Jean patted his shoulder, "All right, your adorable. Why don't you sit down before this school experiences a massive de-enrollment." She lead him to his usual table and he sat obediently. "I'll get you something to eat."
Logan didn't think he could feel any worse, but when he looked up, he really did. Scott was sitting across from him, arms folded across his chest and smirking. The two men just stared at each other for a full minute. Logan emanated all the contempt he could muster. Scott smiled his usual golden boy grin. Finally the silence was broken. "So tell me, when the lake freezes in a couple of months, are we going to be treated to this years installment of 'The Wolverine on Ice'?"
Due to his shattered nerves Logan was terribly off his game. The best he could come up with was "I've seen you skating."
"Yeah," a deliberate pause, "but I didn't look like a spaz." Logan was really going to kill him this time.
"Logan, eggs." A plate slammed down in front of him. Jean turned a brilliant smile on Scott. "Darling, I just heard the nicest thing. Some of the boys are going to surprise you by cleaning and organizing all your tools." In less than an instant Scott was up and gone. Logan wasn't sure if he had even seen the boy move that fast in a fight.
Jean triumphantly took the now abandoned seat. Logan stared at her in awe. "Okay, so after all these years we have finally established you are in fact aware the boy is a geek. Why are you marrying him again?"
Jean watched her own finger as she demurely traced a pattern on the table. "I find his geekiness endearing." A knowing smile, "And I assume it is somewhat similar to why you are willing to strap on a pair of skates for Rogue." Logan was stunned to silence. "Concentrate on your eggs and try not to terrorize anyone else. Whatever it is, I am sure it will work out fine."
Logan looked at his egg filled plate. He was tempted to tell her he would have preferred the breakfast sausages he knew were available, but since she had just voluntarily played Scott for his benefit, he didn't want to spoil the specialness of the moment. He demonstrated his acquiescence by picking up his fork and eating a mouthful. Jean smiled and left him to his breakfast.
He looked back down at his plate. He really wasn't hungry. His brain started a diatribe. Eat you eggs, don't think about Marie, just eat your eggs. He bent over and started shoveling. Eggs, eggs, eggs. No, don't think about how your world is falling apart. Eggs, eggs, eggs ... "Oohf!" Something just about knocked him over. Suddenly his arms were full of a trembling Marie. Her head was buried in his stomach.
"Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."
He ran his gloved fingers through her hair and answered, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere." His heart, mind and soul rallied together and cheered one thought, success! It was the best day of his life.
Eight months later there he was savoring her again. He liked watching her from afar now and then, seeing how she fit in the world when he wasn't around, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. For a while he had been thinking perhaps it was time they tried investigating ways to become more physically intimate, but he really did not want to push her. He knew how she felt about taking any risk that might hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. He was hoping when she was comfortable enough, she would let him know. He had spent fifteen years catering to his own desires, he had no more oats to sew, he could wait as long as she needed. Lately though, there had been a troubling little thought tickling the back of his mind that maybe she had written herself off from sex altogether. He wanted her to know it didn't have to be that way, but so far he hadn't found a way to broach the topic.
Suddenly it dawned on him he was supposed to spending a miserable night alone. Something was wrong. He approached her and decided to announce his presence. "Hey kid, aren't you supposed to be acting all girly at some bachelorette party?"
Rogue turned to face her friend and gave a small smile and a shrug. Her slightly sad demeanor was impossible to miss. Logan stepped forward and took her hand. For a moment the two stared at their respectively gloved, entwined fingers, his leather, hers silk. Logan ducked his head to meet her eyes and softly said "I didn't expect to find you out here tonight." There was a question in his statement.
Rogue shook her head slightly and looked back at their hands. "It's nothing. I just needed to get out of there for a minute."
Logan's eyes narrowed. Using his other hand he tipped her chin to bring her eyes back to his own. "Hey, I thought these things were supposed to be fun?"
She gave a wry smile and gestured toward the building as she replied "I think maybe it was getting a little too fun." His two thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "They," a breath, "they were watching a dirty movie. I didn't like it."
Rogue felt his hand involuntarily squeeze as Logan's whole body tensed. He straightened his stance and turned a feral gaze toward the offending window. He thought he could still see the light of the flickering TV. "Is there anyone in particular I should be giving a talking to, or is it the whole group of thoughtless bitches?" When she didn't answer immediately he dropped her hand and took a step towards the door.
"Wait. Logan no! Don't be silly." He stopped and waited for an explanation. "It's a party. They are just doing what girls do." A pause and she added slightly under her breath, "Though I did used to think it's what boys do."
Logan looked back to the window and worried his jaw. "They should have thought…"
A little desperately, "I'm not mad at them. I like that they didn't think. I like that they just act normally around me and don't worry about how I'm going to react to everything. If they tiptoed around me all the time, and edited everything they talked about and did for my benefit; that would be the nightmare." She stopped to take his hand back into her own. "It took a long time for everyone to be comfortable around me. Don't you dare go showing off how tough you are and set me back again."
Logan sighed, "Still, to show you something you can't have…"
"That's not exactly why I'm upset." A slight blush crept into her cheeks as he eyed her curiously. "I mean I read romance novels for crying out loud. The trashy ones!"
"I think I've seen those in your room. With the nearly naked people on the cover?"
Ignoring him Rogue continued, "I like getting to experience the things I don't have through them, it makes me feel good. But that movie…" she paused, trying to find the words to explain. " It was just awful. I'm not convinced those people even like each other, let alone feel passionate about it. I have always thought about it as this romantic ideal. That video just shat on every fantasy I have ever had. It took my dream and turned it into something small and callous. Something cold and ugly that is carelessly brandished about like it was nothing."
When she finally stopped Logan asked the only thing he could think of, "If you can't have it, wouldn't you rather think of it as nothing?"
In a small voice, "No. I want it to be beautiful. It is forbidden to me now, but I hope it won't always be. And if that happens I want something wonderful to look forward to."
She felt smooth leather caress her cheek. She leaned into the contact and looked up to see his eyes gazing at her tenderly. "You know you are not alone in this. You know you never will be as long as I'm around?" He pulled her into a deep hug and stroked her hair. "I love you kid."
"I know," she whispered back. He told her every night. Just once she wished he would say, "I love you Marie."
Continuing the embrace he muttered, "We are going to have to figure something out."
Suddenly Rogue was overcome by the need to lighten the mood. The last thing she wanted right now was another sad "We need to find a way to fix Rogue" conversation. Smiling into his chest she said mischievously "It is kinda weird actually. Thanks to you I am pretty sure I already know what it feels like as a man. I just don't know what it feels like as a woman."
Logan pulled back slightly and frowned down at her. "So you're telling me I corrupted you when you were seventeen even though I was trying so damn hard not to?"
Rogue gave a full fledge grin, "It was kind of inevitable don't ya think?" Logan's frown turned into a serious look of concentration. He was thinking and thinking hard. She could actually see the idea came alive in his head. When his eyes came back into focus there was a bit of excitement there. Somehow she just knew it wasn't going to be good. "What?" she demanded.
"Come on," he grinned as he started pulling her towards the door. "I have an idea."
Two figures entered the medical room. The first immediately began opening cupboards and drawers, searching. The second hovered by the doorway, clearly uncomfortable with the invasion.
"Logan, what are we doing here?" Rogue hissed. In typical Logan style the man hadn't said a word since he dragged her from the balcony. At first she had been intrigued by his silent determined attitude. Clearly he was on a mission of some kind. A mission involving her no less, but now she didn't feel right poking around in Jean's things. Certainly a doctor's lab was not just open to anyone to rummage through.
Logan paused for a moment and cleared his throat. Keeping his eyes glued on the drawer he finally replied, "We are looking for surgical gloves."
"Surgical gloves?" the girl squeaked. Why on earth did he, no they, need surgical gloves? Oh dear lord, she just thought of a reason. "Logan, what are you thinking?" It was more of a demand than a question. There was no response, he just kept his eyes down and continued rummaging. He opened and slammed a few more doors. Okay, if he was this uncomfortable with his own idea it had to be bad. "Just stop what you are doing and tell me exactly what you have in mind," she was verging on exasperation. Finally the man stopped. He heaved a full body sigh of preparation and met her gaze. Losing his nerve again his eyes started to travel around the room. "Logan?"
"All right." A pause. "I was thinking you have given up too easily. That really there are a lot of ways that you can be intimate with another person." He stopped to watch for a reaction. She was just staring at him with huge eyes and an open mouth. Logan plunged ahead, "Basically as long as one person keeps their clothes on then it's safe to, ah, explore the other naked person. I was thinking it was time that we started to, ah, explore those possibilities."
A moment passed while they both just stared at each other. Rogue was clearly in shock. All she could think of to say was "What are the gloves for? We already have gloves." There was an unmistakable note of worry in her voice.
Now Logan resorted to a cough to gather himself. "For, ah, exploring, ah, more," cough, cough, "intimate areas." Logan was clearly in pain at having to say these things out loud. He had been hoping she would just read his mind. Then after a silent understanding had been reached they could go back to his room and get to the good stuff. The look on her face though was telling him otherwise.
Rogue stood absolutely still, her mouth opening and closing fish-like but no sound would come out. Good Lord, her best friend was proposing sex. Correction, her best friend was proposing some weird surgical glove wearing sex. Why wasn't the floor just swallowing her up? That would be the humane thing to do. She loved Logan and the idea of getting to touch him, even with gloves, was a dream, but she had long ago accepted that fact that his love for her was not of the same nature. He had always taken care of her, been there for her when no one else was. Whenever she had a problem he would listen, support and then try to fix it if he could. She had known their discussion on the balcony was crossing a line but she hadn't imagined this fiasco. God help them, he was trying to take care of her again. Oh it was worse than she had thought, he was proposing pity weird surgical glove wearing sex.
And then the door opened. Rogue launched at least a foot into the air and skittered into the middle of the room.
"Normally when I find someone poking around in my lab this time on a Friday night it is one of the boys looking for condoms." Jean stood in the door with a curious grin on her face. "What can I do for the two of you?"
Logan momentarily thought of coming up with a lie, but the direct approach always served him in the past. Besides, Jean wouldn't be the type to pry. Quick, direct and to the point and then he could get Marie out of there and calm her down. "We are looking for surgical gloves."
Jean's brows lifted even higher, "Surgical gloves?" Okay, so maybe she was the type to pry, when she didn't realize it was a non-prying type situation. She looked to Rogue for a sensible explanation.
The girl just pointed at Logan and blurted, "It was his idea. I, I have to go," and like a wind she was past Jean and out the door.
Jean turned to Logan who was now cursing under his breath. "Can I ask what is going on?"
"I'd rather you didn't," the statement didn't allow for any further questions.
Jean's face softened as understanding suddenly dawned on her. She walked to a drawer on the other side of the room and produced a box. "Here, take the whole thing and then you won't have to come back next time." Logan met her eyes, gave a grateful smile and muttered his thanks. As he started to walk away Jean said "Warm water."
He turned back. "What?"
"After you put them on, put your hands in warm water, it might make it feel a little more natural, rather than being cold." He nodded and started to walk away again. Jean felt she had to say something. Considering Rogue's reaction when she walked in, the man needed a clue. "Normally when I do give the boys the latex I also give them a nice little chat."
"I don't think I need your chat Jean." His patience was wearing; he just wanted to find Marie.
"Are you sure she knows how you feel about her?"
His eyes narrowed, "Marie knows she's my girl." Okay, Jean really was the prying type and she had seriously chosen the wrong time to be that type.
"Logan I don't need to be a telepath to see that she doesn't understand that your feelings may have changed somewhere along the way. She knows you care about her Logan; I don't think she knows how you care about her. Just talk to her first."
"I HAVE told her I love her."
Jean was trying to be as gentle with the man as possible. It was obvious his head was about to explode but these were things he needed to hear, desperately. "How did you say it?"
Just who the hell did she think she was? "I said 'I love you kid.'"
Of course he did. Jean had to concentrate hard on not smiling. "Yeah, try it again and this time leave off the 'kid'."
"I have called her kid since we first met." He was beyond agitated now, who knows how far Marie had gotten. "It's my pet name for her."
Jean sighed. Clearly Logan, who could be so smooth and make his intentions unmistakably known when it was a matter of lust, was an idiot when it came understanding a woman while in a real relationship. "Exactly, Logan, she thinks you still consider yourself her big brother." What she wanted to do was smack him upside the head and yell, "This is the best thing that has happened to you and you are screwing it up you blind blockhead."
Logan thought for a minute. Okay, so he had never sat Marie down and said, "You are a woman now, I want to be with you, you know, like a man." That just seemed patronizing and it had seemed she understood. With all the work he had done over the last year finding ways to express his affection how did she not know? But if Jean thought a talk was in order she was probably right. Women, he had learned, had a strange way of reading each other, but he didn't need to be smacked upside the head with it. "Okay, I'll talk to her." Logan again turned to leave.
"And Logan," Jean called after him, "congratulations." .
He turned a final time and gave a relieved smile. He paused and toyed with the box a bit before responding, "Thanks Jean, congratulations to you to."
Rogue was hiding under the quilt on her bed. When she had fled the medical room her intention had been to get the hell out of the building and run as far as she could. As soon as she reached the driveway her common sense had somehow miraculously returned. If she ran Logan would just find her anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Usually she secretly liked it. No matter where she went, Logan would always find her. It felt safe knowing even when she freaked out it was impossible to harm their relationship. With anyone else it might feel smothering. Maybe she just liked being smothered by Logan.
This time though, a confrontation in the woods would just be too freakishly awkward. She could just imagine "Yes, well, you proposed pity weird surgical glove wearing sex and I felt the need to run to the woods and hide from you as a demonstration of what an adult I truly am." Yes, definitely, making him track her down would only lead to an even bigger talk than they were already doomed to have. Better to let him find her in her room. Then it could be a brief "I think this is a bad idea" chat as opposed to a "this is so hideous a suggestion it drove me to the woods" chat. Still though, adult or not, she could not imagine looking at him, hence the quilt.
She knew that Logan loved her. Problem was she knew exactly how he loved her. She had felt his feelings for her and exactly where she fit in with other women. She was a child and he wanted to protect her. He wanted to take care of her as though he were her big brother. He fantasized about sex with Jean.
Oh god, it was even worse than she thought. It was incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex. "Poor little Marie doomed to never know the love of a man. Hate to see her so sad. I have helped her with all her other problems, might as well help her with this one too." Then to make it truly unbearable the woman he really wants walked right into the middle of the whole embarrassing scene. Ugh, it was bad enough just having the suggestion put out there, how did he not know going through with it would make their relationship forever awkward?
She heard the door open. She heard him take a step inside, but he stopped and the door didn't close. She could picture him standing there fiddling with the door handle like it was some fascinating object. Well that was just fine, she wasn't ready to come out from under the quilt and face the incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex martyr anyway.
"Marie?" She didn't move. She didn't even make a sound. She heard him sigh and close the door. Curiosity overwhelming her she risked a peek with one eye. He stood still for a moment, staring at, oh lord, the box of gloves, which he had apparently felt the need to bring with him. Finally he moved and placed the box on her dresser. Still not looking in her direction he pulled her desk chair over to the bed and sat down with a slight huff. For a minute he just sat there, looking at his hands clasped in front of him, the pictures on her walls, the ceiling. Then with another sigh he leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and looked directly at her. His two sad gentle eyes meeting her one terrified one. "Jean suggested we need to talk." Her one eye blinked at him. He nodded at the quilt and added, "I'm thinking she might be right."
"So, talk."
Logan sat back in his chair and waved his arms at the quilt. "Oh come on Marie, this is an important conversation, I'm not having it with a pink checkered blob."
Rogue shoved the quilt aside and sat up cross-legged. She was a little pink from the heat of the quilt and her hair was all fuzzy and sticking up funny. She was beautiful. "So, talk."
He cleared his throat. "I think we may be having some sort of communication problem."
"I don't see a problem. You suggested sex, I ran screaming; I think we both made our points perfectly clear."
"You are being defensive."
"You're waving latex in my face!" With that she flopped back down onto the bed. She started picking absently at the quilt. "Why are you doing this to me Logan? You're supposed to be my friend."
"I'm more than your friend Marie." Logan decided to take a more direct approach. "How do you think I feel about you?"
She didn't look at him, "I know you care about me. I know you want to take care of me, protect me, make sure I'm happy."
She was ignoring the most important part. She really didn't know. Logan kneeled on the floor in front of her. With his gloved hand he stroked her forehead, "I love you Marie. I haven't thought of you as just my friend in a long time." His body still on the floor, he rested his head on the pillow next to hers.
He didn't need to tell her he loved her, she had felt his feelings first hand. Almost a whisper, "I know we are more than just friends Logan, but this," she gestured vaguely toward the box on her dresser, "this isn't us either."
In earnest now, "Why isn't it us? It should be us." When she didn't answer he tried again. "I am doing this wrong. I should have talked to you first, but when an idea pops into my head," a slight smile, "I don't think, I just do." His thumb continued the caress as he murmured, "I know this idea sounds strange. Maybe it isn't the real thing, but at least it's something. I think we should have something."
Rogue was barely holding back tears now. "Maybe if I can't have the real thing, I don't want anything at all." Rogue hoped he wouldn't miss the double meaning. She hoped they could just agree to forget this night. The kind of love he was offering was not what she wanted. She did not want to be a consolation prize.
Her eyes were so sad it was breaking his heart. For a year he had understood how he loved her. For a year he had believed she understood as well and all this time she really didn't know. How could he fix that? Logan was at a loss. How can he make her believe him when he can't show her? At the very least it was going to take longer than one night. He realized it was going to be like starting from scratch, beginning with regaining her trust. "We are going to work this out. I don't know what else to do tonight, but I promise you we are going to work this out." Raising himself onto the bed he drew her into a hug. "I do love you Marie, I am going to find a way to make you believe that." Pulling back he looked into her eyes. They revealed nothing to him. With a sigh he got off the bed and headed to the door, there was nothing else he could do right then. "I'll see you tomorrow," and he left her.
Finally the silent tears started to fall. She didn't even have the energy for a sob. She desperately wanted to believe him, but with everything she had seen she couldn't and she wasn't going to let him lie to her, or to himself.
Author: Gowdie
Category: Logan and Rogue romance. Just enough angst to get the story moving, a lot of laughter and eventually a happy ending. Hopefully like life!
Rating: PG13 for language and vague mumbled suggestions of sexual possibilities.
Archive: Please dear God, please let someone want this. Just please also let them send me a message so I can write a thank you note and visit.
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!
Thanks: To Kim and Diebin for both offering support and encouragement the second I mentioned the words "writing a story". To my real life friend Narla for listening to me ramble on and on about Logan and Rogue even though she doesn't get the pairing, proofing this story and most of all helping me hide the evidence of my latest addiction from my disapproving roommate. Now that is what real friends are for.
Author Notes: WARNING! I am in a really time consuming program at school and while I want to say I will post once a week, please don't hurt me if I am late.
Note to PETS: I realize Scott only has a brief cameo in this part and I shamelessly use him to poke fun at Logan, but I promise he will be much more realized in Part 2. Please don't send the authorities after me. If there is a similar support group for Storm, I am sorry, she is going to remain pretty much in the shadows. I don't feel the movie gave me enough of her to feel comfortable writing her.
Jean Grey was in a candy-coloured hell. Pastel pink, blue, purple and white balloons floated around her. She was balancing a napkin in her lap with sandwiches cut into hearts and stars. On her head she was wearing, of all things, a hat made of a paper plate covered in ribbons and bows. Sordid, boom, chica, chica, boom, boom music was emanating from the big screen television. It was a surprise shower turned bachelorette party and it was one of the most unsettling events of her life.
The wedding was only two weeks away and she still wasn't sure how she felt about proceeding at this delicate time. Magneto had been released from prison six months ago. With Senator Kelly having been replaced by Mystique it wasn't too much of a surprise. The surprise was that in the past six months they hadn't heard a whisper from the Brotherhood of Mutants. The quiet was more unsettling than any attack could have been. Obviously they were waiting for the perfect moment, whatever that was. Jean and Scott had offered to postpone the wedding but the Professor refused to hear of it. He told them quite frankly that there would always be a battle on the horizon, but they also had lives to lead. They were not to put their future on hold indefinitely due to Eric's manipulations. They would be alert and ready but they would also carry on. Even with Xavier's blessing, Jean still didn't feel at ease.
However, at the precise moment she had an entirely different moral dilemma on her hands. The tawdry music was the soundtrack of a horrendous porn extravaganza. A group of recently turned eighteen-year-olds had supplied the film as a giddy demonstration of their newly acquired adulthood. In a confusing uproar of giggles the tape had been inserted and played before Jean had understood what was happening. Now she was sitting directly opposite a rather traumatized looking Rogue. Jean had watched the girl's face turn from shock to disgust to something new she couldn't quite identify.
Jean managed to get Ororo's attention and made a pointed glance at Rogue. The other woman took in the girl's appearance raised her eyebrows and gave a slight shrug. The two women came to a silent agreement; they would let Rogue take the lead in this situation. If they tried to stop the film their motives might become apparent and they did not want to cause Rogue any embarrassment or make her the centre of an awkward scene.
A few minutes later Jean watched as Rogue rose silently from her seat. Her movement didn't turn a single head, all the girls were two rapt by the action on screen. She slipped from the room almost completely unnoticed. Jean was duly impressed and wondered idly if she could manage a similar disappearance . She wasn't too worried about the recent escapee; Logan was bound to find her soon enough. Logan and Rogue, she still wasn't sure what the exact nature of their relationship was. She knew from his rather uncharacteristic behavior over the last couple of years that Logan loved Rogue. She also knew that Rogue loved him in return and always had, but something still seemed off. She was starting to wonder if the two would ever just sit down and talk it out.
Jean glanced at her watch; only half an hour to go till her ritual Friday night visit to the medical lab. Certainly that was a good enough reason to excuse herself for at least fifteen minutes. In a school full of teenagers a doctor's office contains certain items that draw particular interest on the weekend evenings. Jean considered these visitations as one of her most important functions at the institute, she couldn't afford to miss a single one. Especially if what kept her away was a wedding shower from demento land.
Rogue stood on the second floor balcony and watched the sky. The cool air and bright stars exactly what she needed to clear her head. She couldn't stay in that room with that movie another second. It had been disturbing to say the least. The weird part was after the third couple walked on the screen and started bouncing around she had actually started to become bored, which was even more disturbing. Those were not the images of sex she wanted in her head.
So there she was, on a night she was supposed to spend laughing and drinking with all the other women, standing alone by herself being thoughtful and slightly melancholy. Logan would not be pleased. She wondered just how long it would take him to find her.
Logan. She reached up and touched the dog tags he had returned to her eight months ago. She may not have him the way she would like to, but he had more than kept his promise to always take care of her. He was her best friend.
The six months he had been away were hard. She actually felt herself drifting through those seven stages of grief she had heard so much about in sociology class back home. Bargaining had been the most difficult to wrap her head around. She wasn't sure what she had to offer. "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to always be good," didn't seem right. She had never really been bad, except of course perhaps when she had hitchhiked her way through two countries but she figured God wasn't about to settle for "If Logan comes back and loves me I promise to never run again." Obviously if Logan came back and loved her she wouldn't be going anywhere. God was not one to be easily fooled. She never really did come up with something that didn't sound lame.
Anger on the other hand, was quite the phase. She reveled in anger. She skulked around, slammed her books on her desk occasionally and even threw her hairbrush at the wall a couple of times. She suspected that no one guessed the true source of her rage. She wasn't angry that he had left. She was angry that he had made her love him in the first place. The freaking bastard, how dare he? She drew out elaborate fantasies in her mind of hunting him down, slapping him and then yelling in his shocked face "It's your own god damned fault you know!" As far as she was concerned if he didn't want her to love him than he shouldn't have acted the way he did. He played the hero. He risked his own life for hers. He worried about her, tracked her down and convinced her to stay. He showed her physical affection for crying out loud, despite knowing what she could do. Not to mention the fact that she felt him inside her, knowing everything there was to know. Cody had been a young boy, there were no real surprises there and Magneto had been very careful to only let the connection last as long as necessary; he wasn't more than a whisper. But Logan, Logan had hung on, giving her everything he had. She had never felt so close to anyone in her entire life. Of course she had fallen for him! Where exactly did he get the nerve to make her feel the way she did and then turn around and not want her? Men, she fumed, they should all be given a handbook with explicit instructions, "If you don't want a teenage girl to have crush on you then don't go around making her feel special."
Fortunately by the time Logan returned from Canada she had long since moved into acceptance. He would never love her the way she wanted, but he was her friend and he was home.
Their reunion had been so happy and brief she had forgotten about the chain she wore around her neck. They only had time for one hug and a "Hey kid, I missed ya," before he was swept away to the Professor's office. Later that night as she prepared for bed she remembered the tags. She wanted to return them to him, but she suddenly didn't know what to say without looking like a big geek. "Excuse me Logan, man of my dreams whom I worship like a god for saving my life by risking his own, here are the dog tags I have been wearing next to my heart since the day you left." She realized he knew about her crush, she didn't want him to feel weird about it. She decided the best approach was to slip into his room and place the chain on his night stand after he had fallen asleep. Once the task was accomplished without an embarrassing scene he was free to approach her however he wanted, without her clinging to him like some lovesick puppy.
Fortunately for her he approached her the next day. He didn't mention the tags. They ate lunch and discussed what he had found and how she liked the school so far. And so their relationship continued just as it had been, as though he had never left. Eventually they were spending almost all their time together. At some point she noticed he started wearing his leather gloves all the time. She was grateful for the obvious gesture of support, now he could touch her like a friend without always having to think about it. He knew how much she craved affection and made sure she received some regularly. Perhaps he touched her more than a normal friend but theirs was not a normal relationship. He seemed to be on some kind of mission to banish any feeling of isolation she could possibly have. Of course that just made her love him even more. But rather than let her heart ache, she just reminded herself how lucky she was to have him in her life at all.
Then eight months ago the dog tags reappeared on her bedside table.
A week before, they had been eating dinner together when Scott and Jean got up and announced their engagement to the school. Everyone was clapping, Logan was just sitting there with a blank expression on his face and she was watching him in horror. Gently she touched his arm and asked, "Are you okay?"
He swung around to face her with this almost angry look in his eyes, "I'm fine," he growled. He turned back to the couple and remained silent for the rest of the meal. When he got up to leave he patted her head and grunted, "I'll see ya tomorrow kid." Rogue was no idiot; clearly the engagement was a topic not to be discussed. She never brought it up again.
A week later she woke up to find his dog tags sitting there staring her in the face. Knowing it had to mean he had left again, she burst into tears. She didn't understand how he could leave without saying goodbye. Briefly she considered the idea that something had happened over night. He had been killed and that someone left the tags for her not wanting to wake her with the horrible news. But almost instantly she realized that no, if that happened, Jean would be the one to tell her and she would do so immediately, even at three o'clock in the morning. No, clearly he was just gone. Maybe he didn't want to watch her cry. She stayed in bed and sobbed for about an hour.
Eventually she calmed down, reminding herself that last time he had given her the tags as a promise to return. Therefore, jerk or not, he would be back again ... and then she could kill him. Solemnly she put the chain around her neck, washed her face, dressed and prepared to face the world.
She walked into the dining hall looking at her feet, avoiding the eyes of everyone who must be staring at her in sympathy. Only when she got to "their" table did she bother to look up. There he was, sitting and shoving a plate full of freaking eggs into his mouth. After the moment of shock passed she lunged at him. She nearly knocked him off his chair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his stomach. "Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."
He stroked her head and promised, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere."
After recovering emotionally Rogue tried to piece together what the tags meant. She decided the fact they arrived a week after Jean's engagement was obviously significant. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Rogue had been exposed to Logan's feelings for Jean. She had also seen his fantasies. Things like that didn't just go away. But apparently now he had resigned himself to the fact that Jean would never be his. Jean was officially and forever beyond his reach. Perhaps he was trying to solidify the one relationship he did have rather than mourning the one he wished for, but lost. Whatever the case, Rogue knew, though a powerful symbol of his promise to her, the tags didn't really change anything.
So there they were, the woman who couldn't be loved by a man, and the man who had given up on finding love with a woman. At least they had each other and that was not something to be taken for granted. Their relationship may not be the one she wanted but it was special. Besides, she couldn't be with anyone, at least she got to be close to the man she would choose if she could. It also seemed he was more content than he had been in the past. She had experienced his passion for Jean, but Rogue had also felt just how deeply he cared for her. She knew he was happy to have found someone to care about that cared about him and she knew she brought him some level of peace.
Still holding the tags, Rogue shivered slightly. The spring air still had a slight chill in it. Just what was taking him so long to find her anyway?
Logan was miserable. Marie had been abducted from him by a pack of freakishly scary gaggling girls. His choices for entertainment for the evening were hanging out with the boys of the school (no thanks), or cards with Scott and Xavier. He had actually given in to the card game for about an hour, but there were only so many of their calm polite "I'll take two pleases" he could take. Especially since he highly suspected they had suggested the game out of pity. Apparently both men were far too keenly aware of what a co-dependent whipped pansy he had become. Overwhelmed with the need to assert his independent manliness he had left the table and announced he had some very important, um, stuff to do. After that he ended up wandering aimlessly. Yep, very independent and manly indeed.
He was wondering through the main second floor hallway when he caught a whiff of Marie's distinctive scent. Thank God. He followed his nose and found the door to the balcony open. She was standing there watching the sky and fingering his dog tags. He stayed back for a moment to breathe her in. He silently congratulated himself on what an act of genius it had been to give her those tags. He thought this at least once a day.
When he awoke that first morning, after his return from Canada, the tags had been waiting for him on his bedside table. He had been a little disappointed, he hadn't been sure why. At lunch she didn't mention it and he decided not to press the issue. He had known she had a crush on him when he left, maybe this was her way of letting him know she was over it. Maybe it was for the best.
But over the next few days he started to realize that their relationship hadn't changed since he left. They still sought each other out. She still confided in him about her feelings regarding her new life and he told her about the things he didn't know about his. He edited out some of the things he did know; she was after all, still only seventeen.
Eventually he was spending almost all his spare time with her. Normally his outlook was pretty dark. Somehow it wasn't so much anymore. Though Marie felt alone, she loved life and he admired that. Oddly enough her influence rubbed off on him. Oh, he wasn't about to sing praises to the sky or the flowers or anything and he was still pretty grumpy, but the gloom was a little less gloomy. She taught him how to play fooze ball of all things and he just thought that was bizarre. He taught her how to play a real man's game, pool. About three weeks later she cleaned up the table with his ass.
As time went by he realized he was lusting after Jean less and less. Okay, so she still was a nice piece of eye candy, but he didn't feel the need to drool anymore. Hitting on her even became less fun until the day came when it didn't even occur to him. Scott was thrilled.
During their first summer at the school together he allowed Marie to teach him how to swim. Well, kind of.
One night after seeing her to her door, he was walking down the hallway when he heard an unusually hesitant voice behind him. "Logan?" He turned. "Do you ever like to go swimming?"
Hands in his pockets, he narrowed his eyes at the odd question and answered honestly, "No."
Her eyes darted to the floor and then back up again. A shy smile, "Okay, I was just wondering. Good night." A wave and she was gone. He stood there frowning at her door for at least a minute before he shook his head and walked away.
A few days later, on one of their walks, he caught the wistful glance she gave the students swimming as they passed the lake. She didn't think he had noticed. He couldn't believe what an idiot he had been. MARIE liked to swim. For a moment he thought if the other kids had refused to ask her along, or worse had actively turned her down, he would have to start pounding some heads. But he realized it was far more likely she had decided not to put them in that position. Swimming would involve exposed skin. Marie had asked him because she trusted the fact that he was the one person who wouldn't be afraid to swim with her. And he, brilliant ass that he was, had turned her down.
The next morning he appeared in her room at seven a.m. in a pair of cut off jeans. When she didn't awake immediately he chucked his towel at her head. With a sleepy moan she pulled the towel off and blinked at him in confusion. "Well come on kid, do you want to go in the lake or not?" The beautiful smile that spread across her face was worth even the humiliation of being caught in shorts.
Of course there was still the humiliation of realizing he didn't actually know how to swim. Caught up in making Marie happy he hadn't thought that part through. In the sixteen years he did remember he had never needed to swim. Apparently his former self had never needed to either.
And that was how he ended up spending an entire summer flailing around in three feet of water, on his back, while Marie stood five feet away and shouted instructions like, "Good, just be still. If you relax you'll float naturally." He restrained himself from commenting that he was rather unnaturally built to sink like a piece of lead. "And remember you're not allowed to drown cause I can't save you!" At this point, as he managed a position distantly related to a float he would find himself idly wondering two things. One, was it possible for him to drown? (How did a mutant healing factor contend with two lungs full of water?) And two, why was it when he would be pummeling anyone else, did he actually like it when Marie spoke to him this way? Splash! "Are you paying attention? I said to try kicking your feet!"
After a half hour of her drill sergeant routine he was allowed to retire to the bank. There he would sit and watch her. Sometimes she would swim laps back and forth in front of him. Sometimes she would do somersaults and perform other tricks. Sometimes she would simply float and watch the clouds go by. With the peaceful quiet, blue sky, green trees and crystal lake with a happy girl floating at the center, it was a perfect moment and he would soak it in. He had chosen the seven a.m. wake up call on purpose. On these mornings she would romp around, skin exposed to the world, normal and free. He didn't want anyone else to put so much as a toe into that water if it would make her uncomfortable.
After a while she would join him. Dripping and slightly tanned she would plop down in front of him on the grass. Her skin was only inches from his, yet she didn't even seem to notice. He loved that he could do this for her.
In July and August they would have time to sit and chat in the sun until their suits dried. Towards the end of the summer she would comment on how it was sad that soon it would be too cold to swim. "But then I guess if it gets cold enough the lake will freeze and we can try skating." He honestly tried to conceal the look of horror on his face at the image of his hulking mass teetering around on skates. "Oh come on, if you really are from Canada you must have played hockey at some point!"
Logan smiled at the memory. Somehow, that entire summer had passed and he hadn't realized what he was feeling. It wasn't until about a year after their first swimming adventure that he realized he was physically restraining himself from touching Marie. When they were having a quiet moment he wanted to hold her hand, or worse, caress her face. What the hell was going on? Once they were having a conversation about college, she was commenting that she was happy she had decided to attend via correspondence. She had just been to the city to write her first set of exams. For the first time in almost two years she had felt alone in the world. She was glad she had decided to stay with her family. She was glad she had decided to stay with him. His hand was in mid air about to stroke her cheek before he even realized it. She saw him coming and instinctually pulled back a bit. He paused, they both smiled awkwardly and then he touched her hair instead.
That night he put a couple cigars in his jacket pocket and went to spend some quality time in the woods. The school, with all its sounds and smells was too distracting. He needed to be somewhere completely alone to figure out just what the hell was happening to him. He found a spot where he could still see the sky through the trees. He lay on the ground, eyes on the stars, hands running through the leaves at his sides and focused his mind on only Marie. Intellectually he knew she was the most important person in his life. She actually made him happy. In his heart he also already knew he loved her. The question had become exactly how did he love her. He conjured up a mental image of her and for the first time since he had met her he just let go, let that picture take him where it would. Good god, he was turned on! Part of his mind instantly reared up screaming that he was dirty and she was innocent and pure and he shouldn't be thinking of her that way. But it didn't feel dirty and he knew if he was really honest with himself Marie was no longer a child. Maybe he had just wanted to keep her a child because then he was safe, but he couldn't lie to himself anymore. She was a beautiful, amazing, desirable woman who loved him and he wanted her. He let the feelings wash over him a bit. It felt so good, it felt free. Then he realized he needed to start thinking about something else or he would have to find a more private spot in the woods. And that frustration was the point really. Now that he has accepted the nature of his feelings he still couldn't do anything about it. Shit. Now what?
"Forget about it and move on. Leave if you have to, just get the hell out," his brain told him. "Can't," both his heart and body replied. God damn it, as much as he realized he should be castrated for such a girly thought, Marie was his light. He wanted to bathe in it.
The next morning Logan put on a pair of leather gloves and he was almost never seen without them again. It wasn't a statement really, it was simply acting on a desire. With the gloves on he could touch Marie whenever the fancy occurred to him. And the fancy occurred to him a lot. He spent the next four months finding all sorts of ways to touch her. He gave in to the urge, even though it seemed terribly sappy, and held her hand. He draped his arm around her shoulders or waist whenever they were walking anywhere. He touched her face, her hair, even patted her knee. Finally, at night when he dropped her off at her door, he took her into his arms, gave her a full body hug and whispered in her ear "I love you kid." At first whenever he tried something new her head always snapped around and she looked at him like he was some sort of alien. He would just shrug and smile at her and after a moment she would relax and melt into it. Soon she even started touching him back. Everything was wonderful.
At least he thought everything was wonderful until the day Jean and Scott announced their engagement. Everyone else was clapping. Logan was just sitting there feeling ... nothing at all. He pondered how he would have reacted two years earlier. He would have been upset. He probably would have had to skulk out of the room and steal the jerk's bike to take a long ride alone ... and maybe drive it into a tree. He wasn't sure what he would have done a year ago. He would have at least felt the need to make some wise ass remark, but even that would have been more out of habit than anything real. But then, there he was, not even a glimmer of jealousy or regret. Marie truly was the only woman he wanted to be with. He was even kind of happy for the pair. He felt himself frown slightly at how odd a thought that was.
Then he heard a voice far more timid than usual asking him, "Are you alright?"
Logan swung around and looked at her in absolute shock. Why the hell was she asking him that? He knew he should be saying something, but the look on of honest concern on her face had him absolutely stupefied, not to mention slightly horrified. Finally, he forced out, "I'm fine," perhaps a little more harshly than he should have. He turned back to face the front of the room and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. He seriously did not like the possibilities he was being faced with. Marie didn't know. Somehow, despite all his puppy dogesque behavior over the last four months this mystery of a woman had failed to grasp his point. The little happy world he had been living in, where everything was wonderful, was brought to its knees. The room was closing in on him. He had to get away from all the noise and the expression on Marie's face that was making him feel sick to his stomach. Overwhelmed by the uncontrollable need to run he rose from his seat. At a loss for what else to do or say, but knowing saying nothing wasn't right either, he patted her head and told her he would see her the next day.
Logan did a lot of pacing that week. He paced in the halls, he paced throughout the grounds and he paced in his room at night. When he was with Marie he felt himself looking at her with this big confused question mark plastered on his face. He couldn't stop himself from starring at her like the crazy person she clearly was, but he knew the last thing she needed was his dumb face calling her insane, so he decided it was best to try to avoid looking at her at all.
Okay, clearly she needed something from him, but what more could he do? In any other situation he would have attempted a seduction long ago, leaving no doubt in her mind exactly what his intentions were, but that route was barred from him. He couldn't even kiss her for crying out loud and he couldn't think of anything else to do beyond what he had been doing that seemed appropriate at this stage.
He needed to come up with some kind of gesture. A statement to show her she was his, or he belonged to her, or whatever. A ring just didn't feel right; nothing else was normal about their relationship, they needed an abnormal gesture.
By the seventh day he was starting to wear a path in the garden. He thought he smelled something vaguely off and stopped, wondering idly if he had remembered to take a shower in the last couple of days in the midst of all his pacing. He scratched his chest. He did feel a little grimy. And then, whamo, it hit him: dog tags!
Next was the issue of delivery. He had managed to pull it off rather smoothly the first time, but this was more important. He really didn't want to end up standing there sputtering, "Hey Marie, here are my dog tags, don't ya want to wear em?" No, that simply would not do.
He slipped into her room that night and watched her sleep. Logan knew he wasn't kidding himself when he thought there had been a time not too long ago that he could have almost any woman he wanted. When he spotted a candidate all he had to do was give her one long hard feral gaze and she was his. Even Jean, despite her constant denials, he knew had been tempted. It was partly her steadfast loyalty and her refusal to give in, in the face of her temptation that had caused him to admire her even more. So how was it that this one girl had reduced him to self-doubt?
His whole being leapt up and screamed the answer. Because you idiot, she is the one girl you actually love. She is the one girl whose life you value more than your own. She is the one girl who, if she said no, might actually cut you open.
Logan heaved a sigh. She was perfect to him, he really didn't want to spoil this moment by fumbling around or saying something stupid. Carefully he placed the chain on her bedside table in exactly the same position he had found it almost two years ago. When she saw it in the morning, she would understand.
The next morning he was a mess. She was over an hour late coming down for breakfast. After forty five minutes he was sure she was going to be the death of him. What if he had been wrong? What if she really had gotten over him when he left the first time? What was he going to do if she was sitting up there embarrassed for him and trying to figure out a way to let him down easy? The questions plaguing him continued to get worse and worse as he animatedly marched back and forth in the back of the dining room while furiously chewing on an unlit cigar. No smoking during meals, of all the dumb ass rules he had ever heard...
Out of nowhere Jean was suddenly standing directly in his path forcing him to come to an abrupt halt. "Logan," in a stern voice, "you are scaring some of the younger students." He looked over. Sure enough there was an entire table of twelve-year-olds staring at him in unabashed terror. He decided he should try to set things right. He winked at them to demonstrate what a friendly guy he was. One of the kids visibly jumped and he heard another gasp. All ten faces immediately swung back to their plates. Jean patted his shoulder, "All right, your adorable. Why don't you sit down before this school experiences a massive de-enrollment." She lead him to his usual table and he sat obediently. "I'll get you something to eat."
Logan didn't think he could feel any worse, but when he looked up, he really did. Scott was sitting across from him, arms folded across his chest and smirking. The two men just stared at each other for a full minute. Logan emanated all the contempt he could muster. Scott smiled his usual golden boy grin. Finally the silence was broken. "So tell me, when the lake freezes in a couple of months, are we going to be treated to this years installment of 'The Wolverine on Ice'?"
Due to his shattered nerves Logan was terribly off his game. The best he could come up with was "I've seen you skating."
"Yeah," a deliberate pause, "but I didn't look like a spaz." Logan was really going to kill him this time.
"Logan, eggs." A plate slammed down in front of him. Jean turned a brilliant smile on Scott. "Darling, I just heard the nicest thing. Some of the boys are going to surprise you by cleaning and organizing all your tools." In less than an instant Scott was up and gone. Logan wasn't sure if he had even seen the boy move that fast in a fight.
Jean triumphantly took the now abandoned seat. Logan stared at her in awe. "Okay, so after all these years we have finally established you are in fact aware the boy is a geek. Why are you marrying him again?"
Jean watched her own finger as she demurely traced a pattern on the table. "I find his geekiness endearing." A knowing smile, "And I assume it is somewhat similar to why you are willing to strap on a pair of skates for Rogue." Logan was stunned to silence. "Concentrate on your eggs and try not to terrorize anyone else. Whatever it is, I am sure it will work out fine."
Logan looked at his egg filled plate. He was tempted to tell her he would have preferred the breakfast sausages he knew were available, but since she had just voluntarily played Scott for his benefit, he didn't want to spoil the specialness of the moment. He demonstrated his acquiescence by picking up his fork and eating a mouthful. Jean smiled and left him to his breakfast.
He looked back down at his plate. He really wasn't hungry. His brain started a diatribe. Eat you eggs, don't think about Marie, just eat your eggs. He bent over and started shoveling. Eggs, eggs, eggs. No, don't think about how your world is falling apart. Eggs, eggs, eggs ... "Oohf!" Something just about knocked him over. Suddenly his arms were full of a trembling Marie. Her head was buried in his stomach.
"Oh God Logan, I love you, please don't ever leave again."
He ran his gloved fingers through her hair and answered, "I love you too kid, I'm not going anywhere." His heart, mind and soul rallied together and cheered one thought, success! It was the best day of his life.
Eight months later there he was savoring her again. He liked watching her from afar now and then, seeing how she fit in the world when he wasn't around, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. For a while he had been thinking perhaps it was time they tried investigating ways to become more physically intimate, but he really did not want to push her. He knew how she felt about taking any risk that might hurt him, or anyone else for that matter. He was hoping when she was comfortable enough, she would let him know. He had spent fifteen years catering to his own desires, he had no more oats to sew, he could wait as long as she needed. Lately though, there had been a troubling little thought tickling the back of his mind that maybe she had written herself off from sex altogether. He wanted her to know it didn't have to be that way, but so far he hadn't found a way to broach the topic.
Suddenly it dawned on him he was supposed to spending a miserable night alone. Something was wrong. He approached her and decided to announce his presence. "Hey kid, aren't you supposed to be acting all girly at some bachelorette party?"
Rogue turned to face her friend and gave a small smile and a shrug. Her slightly sad demeanor was impossible to miss. Logan stepped forward and took her hand. For a moment the two stared at their respectively gloved, entwined fingers, his leather, hers silk. Logan ducked his head to meet her eyes and softly said "I didn't expect to find you out here tonight." There was a question in his statement.
Rogue shook her head slightly and looked back at their hands. "It's nothing. I just needed to get out of there for a minute."
Logan's eyes narrowed. Using his other hand he tipped her chin to bring her eyes back to his own. "Hey, I thought these things were supposed to be fun?"
She gave a wry smile and gestured toward the building as she replied "I think maybe it was getting a little too fun." His two thick eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "They," a breath, "they were watching a dirty movie. I didn't like it."
Rogue felt his hand involuntarily squeeze as Logan's whole body tensed. He straightened his stance and turned a feral gaze toward the offending window. He thought he could still see the light of the flickering TV. "Is there anyone in particular I should be giving a talking to, or is it the whole group of thoughtless bitches?" When she didn't answer immediately he dropped her hand and took a step towards the door.
"Wait. Logan no! Don't be silly." He stopped and waited for an explanation. "It's a party. They are just doing what girls do." A pause and she added slightly under her breath, "Though I did used to think it's what boys do."
Logan looked back to the window and worried his jaw. "They should have thought…"
A little desperately, "I'm not mad at them. I like that they didn't think. I like that they just act normally around me and don't worry about how I'm going to react to everything. If they tiptoed around me all the time, and edited everything they talked about and did for my benefit; that would be the nightmare." She stopped to take his hand back into her own. "It took a long time for everyone to be comfortable around me. Don't you dare go showing off how tough you are and set me back again."
Logan sighed, "Still, to show you something you can't have…"
"That's not exactly why I'm upset." A slight blush crept into her cheeks as he eyed her curiously. "I mean I read romance novels for crying out loud. The trashy ones!"
"I think I've seen those in your room. With the nearly naked people on the cover?"
Ignoring him Rogue continued, "I like getting to experience the things I don't have through them, it makes me feel good. But that movie…" she paused, trying to find the words to explain. " It was just awful. I'm not convinced those people even like each other, let alone feel passionate about it. I have always thought about it as this romantic ideal. That video just shat on every fantasy I have ever had. It took my dream and turned it into something small and callous. Something cold and ugly that is carelessly brandished about like it was nothing."
When she finally stopped Logan asked the only thing he could think of, "If you can't have it, wouldn't you rather think of it as nothing?"
In a small voice, "No. I want it to be beautiful. It is forbidden to me now, but I hope it won't always be. And if that happens I want something wonderful to look forward to."
She felt smooth leather caress her cheek. She leaned into the contact and looked up to see his eyes gazing at her tenderly. "You know you are not alone in this. You know you never will be as long as I'm around?" He pulled her into a deep hug and stroked her hair. "I love you kid."
"I know," she whispered back. He told her every night. Just once she wished he would say, "I love you Marie."
Continuing the embrace he muttered, "We are going to have to figure something out."
Suddenly Rogue was overcome by the need to lighten the mood. The last thing she wanted right now was another sad "We need to find a way to fix Rogue" conversation. Smiling into his chest she said mischievously "It is kinda weird actually. Thanks to you I am pretty sure I already know what it feels like as a man. I just don't know what it feels like as a woman."
Logan pulled back slightly and frowned down at her. "So you're telling me I corrupted you when you were seventeen even though I was trying so damn hard not to?"
Rogue gave a full fledge grin, "It was kind of inevitable don't ya think?" Logan's frown turned into a serious look of concentration. He was thinking and thinking hard. She could actually see the idea came alive in his head. When his eyes came back into focus there was a bit of excitement there. Somehow she just knew it wasn't going to be good. "What?" she demanded.
"Come on," he grinned as he started pulling her towards the door. "I have an idea."
Two figures entered the medical room. The first immediately began opening cupboards and drawers, searching. The second hovered by the doorway, clearly uncomfortable with the invasion.
"Logan, what are we doing here?" Rogue hissed. In typical Logan style the man hadn't said a word since he dragged her from the balcony. At first she had been intrigued by his silent determined attitude. Clearly he was on a mission of some kind. A mission involving her no less, but now she didn't feel right poking around in Jean's things. Certainly a doctor's lab was not just open to anyone to rummage through.
Logan paused for a moment and cleared his throat. Keeping his eyes glued on the drawer he finally replied, "We are looking for surgical gloves."
"Surgical gloves?" the girl squeaked. Why on earth did he, no they, need surgical gloves? Oh dear lord, she just thought of a reason. "Logan, what are you thinking?" It was more of a demand than a question. There was no response, he just kept his eyes down and continued rummaging. He opened and slammed a few more doors. Okay, if he was this uncomfortable with his own idea it had to be bad. "Just stop what you are doing and tell me exactly what you have in mind," she was verging on exasperation. Finally the man stopped. He heaved a full body sigh of preparation and met her gaze. Losing his nerve again his eyes started to travel around the room. "Logan?"
"All right." A pause. "I was thinking you have given up too easily. That really there are a lot of ways that you can be intimate with another person." He stopped to watch for a reaction. She was just staring at him with huge eyes and an open mouth. Logan plunged ahead, "Basically as long as one person keeps their clothes on then it's safe to, ah, explore the other naked person. I was thinking it was time that we started to, ah, explore those possibilities."
A moment passed while they both just stared at each other. Rogue was clearly in shock. All she could think of to say was "What are the gloves for? We already have gloves." There was an unmistakable note of worry in her voice.
Now Logan resorted to a cough to gather himself. "For, ah, exploring, ah, more," cough, cough, "intimate areas." Logan was clearly in pain at having to say these things out loud. He had been hoping she would just read his mind. Then after a silent understanding had been reached they could go back to his room and get to the good stuff. The look on her face though was telling him otherwise.
Rogue stood absolutely still, her mouth opening and closing fish-like but no sound would come out. Good Lord, her best friend was proposing sex. Correction, her best friend was proposing some weird surgical glove wearing sex. Why wasn't the floor just swallowing her up? That would be the humane thing to do. She loved Logan and the idea of getting to touch him, even with gloves, was a dream, but she had long ago accepted that fact that his love for her was not of the same nature. He had always taken care of her, been there for her when no one else was. Whenever she had a problem he would listen, support and then try to fix it if he could. She had known their discussion on the balcony was crossing a line but she hadn't imagined this fiasco. God help them, he was trying to take care of her again. Oh it was worse than she had thought, he was proposing pity weird surgical glove wearing sex.
And then the door opened. Rogue launched at least a foot into the air and skittered into the middle of the room.
"Normally when I find someone poking around in my lab this time on a Friday night it is one of the boys looking for condoms." Jean stood in the door with a curious grin on her face. "What can I do for the two of you?"
Logan momentarily thought of coming up with a lie, but the direct approach always served him in the past. Besides, Jean wouldn't be the type to pry. Quick, direct and to the point and then he could get Marie out of there and calm her down. "We are looking for surgical gloves."
Jean's brows lifted even higher, "Surgical gloves?" Okay, so maybe she was the type to pry, when she didn't realize it was a non-prying type situation. She looked to Rogue for a sensible explanation.
The girl just pointed at Logan and blurted, "It was his idea. I, I have to go," and like a wind she was past Jean and out the door.
Jean turned to Logan who was now cursing under his breath. "Can I ask what is going on?"
"I'd rather you didn't," the statement didn't allow for any further questions.
Jean's face softened as understanding suddenly dawned on her. She walked to a drawer on the other side of the room and produced a box. "Here, take the whole thing and then you won't have to come back next time." Logan met her eyes, gave a grateful smile and muttered his thanks. As he started to walk away Jean said "Warm water."
He turned back. "What?"
"After you put them on, put your hands in warm water, it might make it feel a little more natural, rather than being cold." He nodded and started to walk away again. Jean felt she had to say something. Considering Rogue's reaction when she walked in, the man needed a clue. "Normally when I do give the boys the latex I also give them a nice little chat."
"I don't think I need your chat Jean." His patience was wearing; he just wanted to find Marie.
"Are you sure she knows how you feel about her?"
His eyes narrowed, "Marie knows she's my girl." Okay, Jean really was the prying type and she had seriously chosen the wrong time to be that type.
"Logan I don't need to be a telepath to see that she doesn't understand that your feelings may have changed somewhere along the way. She knows you care about her Logan; I don't think she knows how you care about her. Just talk to her first."
"I HAVE told her I love her."
Jean was trying to be as gentle with the man as possible. It was obvious his head was about to explode but these were things he needed to hear, desperately. "How did you say it?"
Just who the hell did she think she was? "I said 'I love you kid.'"
Of course he did. Jean had to concentrate hard on not smiling. "Yeah, try it again and this time leave off the 'kid'."
"I have called her kid since we first met." He was beyond agitated now, who knows how far Marie had gotten. "It's my pet name for her."
Jean sighed. Clearly Logan, who could be so smooth and make his intentions unmistakably known when it was a matter of lust, was an idiot when it came understanding a woman while in a real relationship. "Exactly, Logan, she thinks you still consider yourself her big brother." What she wanted to do was smack him upside the head and yell, "This is the best thing that has happened to you and you are screwing it up you blind blockhead."
Logan thought for a minute. Okay, so he had never sat Marie down and said, "You are a woman now, I want to be with you, you know, like a man." That just seemed patronizing and it had seemed she understood. With all the work he had done over the last year finding ways to express his affection how did she not know? But if Jean thought a talk was in order she was probably right. Women, he had learned, had a strange way of reading each other, but he didn't need to be smacked upside the head with it. "Okay, I'll talk to her." Logan again turned to leave.
"And Logan," Jean called after him, "congratulations." .
He turned a final time and gave a relieved smile. He paused and toyed with the box a bit before responding, "Thanks Jean, congratulations to you to."
Rogue was hiding under the quilt on her bed. When she had fled the medical room her intention had been to get the hell out of the building and run as far as she could. As soon as she reached the driveway her common sense had somehow miraculously returned. If she ran Logan would just find her anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Usually she secretly liked it. No matter where she went, Logan would always find her. It felt safe knowing even when she freaked out it was impossible to harm their relationship. With anyone else it might feel smothering. Maybe she just liked being smothered by Logan.
This time though, a confrontation in the woods would just be too freakishly awkward. She could just imagine "Yes, well, you proposed pity weird surgical glove wearing sex and I felt the need to run to the woods and hide from you as a demonstration of what an adult I truly am." Yes, definitely, making him track her down would only lead to an even bigger talk than they were already doomed to have. Better to let him find her in her room. Then it could be a brief "I think this is a bad idea" chat as opposed to a "this is so hideous a suggestion it drove me to the woods" chat. Still though, adult or not, she could not imagine looking at him, hence the quilt.
She knew that Logan loved her. Problem was she knew exactly how he loved her. She had felt his feelings for her and exactly where she fit in with other women. She was a child and he wanted to protect her. He wanted to take care of her as though he were her big brother. He fantasized about sex with Jean.
Oh god, it was even worse than she thought. It was incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex. "Poor little Marie doomed to never know the love of a man. Hate to see her so sad. I have helped her with all her other problems, might as well help her with this one too." Then to make it truly unbearable the woman he really wants walked right into the middle of the whole embarrassing scene. Ugh, it was bad enough just having the suggestion put out there, how did he not know going through with it would make their relationship forever awkward?
She heard the door open. She heard him take a step inside, but he stopped and the door didn't close. She could picture him standing there fiddling with the door handle like it was some fascinating object. Well that was just fine, she wasn't ready to come out from under the quilt and face the incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex martyr anyway.
"Marie?" She didn't move. She didn't even make a sound. She heard him sigh and close the door. Curiosity overwhelming her she risked a peek with one eye. He stood still for a moment, staring at, oh lord, the box of gloves, which he had apparently felt the need to bring with him. Finally he moved and placed the box on her dresser. Still not looking in her direction he pulled her desk chair over to the bed and sat down with a slight huff. For a minute he just sat there, looking at his hands clasped in front of him, the pictures on her walls, the ceiling. Then with another sigh he leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees and looked directly at her. His two sad gentle eyes meeting her one terrified one. "Jean suggested we need to talk." Her one eye blinked at him. He nodded at the quilt and added, "I'm thinking she might be right."
"So, talk."
Logan sat back in his chair and waved his arms at the quilt. "Oh come on Marie, this is an important conversation, I'm not having it with a pink checkered blob."
Rogue shoved the quilt aside and sat up cross-legged. She was a little pink from the heat of the quilt and her hair was all fuzzy and sticking up funny. She was beautiful. "So, talk."
He cleared his throat. "I think we may be having some sort of communication problem."
"I don't see a problem. You suggested sex, I ran screaming; I think we both made our points perfectly clear."
"You are being defensive."
"You're waving latex in my face!" With that she flopped back down onto the bed. She started picking absently at the quilt. "Why are you doing this to me Logan? You're supposed to be my friend."
"I'm more than your friend Marie." Logan decided to take a more direct approach. "How do you think I feel about you?"
She didn't look at him, "I know you care about me. I know you want to take care of me, protect me, make sure I'm happy."
She was ignoring the most important part. She really didn't know. Logan kneeled on the floor in front of her. With his gloved hand he stroked her forehead, "I love you Marie. I haven't thought of you as just my friend in a long time." His body still on the floor, he rested his head on the pillow next to hers.
He didn't need to tell her he loved her, she had felt his feelings first hand. Almost a whisper, "I know we are more than just friends Logan, but this," she gestured vaguely toward the box on her dresser, "this isn't us either."
In earnest now, "Why isn't it us? It should be us." When she didn't answer he tried again. "I am doing this wrong. I should have talked to you first, but when an idea pops into my head," a slight smile, "I don't think, I just do." His thumb continued the caress as he murmured, "I know this idea sounds strange. Maybe it isn't the real thing, but at least it's something. I think we should have something."
Rogue was barely holding back tears now. "Maybe if I can't have the real thing, I don't want anything at all." Rogue hoped he wouldn't miss the double meaning. She hoped they could just agree to forget this night. The kind of love he was offering was not what she wanted. She did not want to be a consolation prize.
Her eyes were so sad it was breaking his heart. For a year he had understood how he loved her. For a year he had believed she understood as well and all this time she really didn't know. How could he fix that? Logan was at a loss. How can he make her believe him when he can't show her? At the very least it was going to take longer than one night. He realized it was going to be like starting from scratch, beginning with regaining her trust. "We are going to work this out. I don't know what else to do tonight, but I promise you we are going to work this out." Raising himself onto the bed he drew her into a hug. "I do love you Marie, I am going to find a way to make you believe that." Pulling back he looked into her eyes. They revealed nothing to him. With a sigh he got off the bed and headed to the door, there was nothing else he could do right then. "I'll see you tomorrow," and he left her.
Finally the silent tears started to fall. She didn't even have the energy for a sob. She desperately wanted to believe him, but with everything she had seen she couldn't and she wasn't going to let him lie to her, or to himself.