It was a couple days later before I finally spoke to Rogue again.

Despite being in close quarters, she'd made every attempt to avoid me - and she was damn good at stayin' out of my way. I hadn't remembered her being quite so careful before, but plenty of times I found myself steppin' out into the hallway with her scent tickling my nose, to find she had just closed her bedroom door behind her or disappeared down the staircase. I often found myself walking into a room she had just left. I knew she wanted to keep her distance, but I didn't know how she did it. After a while I just figured she'd gotten smart during my time away, and had finally started relyin' on her senses and gut instinct the way I'd always taught her.

Just scentin' her around made me desperate for some kind of connection with her again, and I got pretty nostalgic thinking of our old Danger Room sessions together. That was one of the things I missed most, actually, and it wasn't just about seeing her in the tight uniform. I couldn't figure out if I'd taught her enough to defend herself without me, but no matter what her qualifications, I wouldn't have wanted her to have to face 'ol Mags alone. Her abilities just mattered even more now, though it pissed her off to think of herself as a victim, a target, and she ranted about it sometimes, so loud I could hear her arguin' with Chuck right through the walls. I sided with her, knowin' it was hell to be cooped up the way she was, but couldn't help but worry about her. Magneto's threats had been real, I was sure of that.

I stayed out of her way as best I could, which surprised even me. It wasn't that I was scared of her anger -- I wanted her to scream at me. I needed her to at least look at me so I could feel a little more alive, the way only she could make me feel. It was real difficult seein' her with Cyke too, but even that wasn't my only reason for maintaining the distance between us. It was my promise to Chuck that did it. I liked feelin' like a man of my word again, and I appreciated bein' seen as someone who could be trusted, so I followed the rules as best as I ever had. I took my breakfast early because I knew Rogue liked to sleep in late, and I stayed out of the public areas she preferred, like the lounge and library, even though sometimes I kept my door open like the kids did, just so I could see her when she went by.

A few days after I came back, I took a break from tunin' up an old transport bus Chuck wanted back in service and I went into the kitchen to get a drink. They had nothing in the mansion but milk, soda and juice - no beer, of course - but it had been thirsty work and I was ready for a Pepsi if nothin' else. I went in, let the cold air of the fridge flow over my skin, and when I stepped back, there was Rogue, gaping at me over a cup of coffee she'd just poured.

Her eyes went wide as saucers, like she'd found herself lookin' at a ghost or something. Even terrified, she was a beauty. She was wearin' a pair of tight jeans and some kind of flowery pink shirt - I'd never seen her with pink on before, but it did her complexion justice. The Rogue I'd been so close to wasn't a pink kind of girl at all, but I figured Cyke had changed her. It seemed like he'd made her into a different kind of person, because she looked a little bit like Jean. She had her hair loose and wavy so that it kind of flowed down her back, catching sunlight that lit it faintly auburn, and I'd be damned if she wasn't wearing something shiny like paint on her lips, only it was clear, not colorful.

"Oh," she said, in the tiniest voice.

"Hey, uh, kid," I answered her back. I'd be lyin' if I said she didn't make me feel like a small animal caught in a trap, defenseless. My skin went all hot and flushed and I looked down at the tile floor, actually too embarrassed to meet her eyes, suddenly feelin' scared. Sirens went off in my mind and I felt like I was in deep shit even though I hadn't done a thing wrong. Sheepishly, I held up the bottle of Pepsi like it was goin' to give me permission for bein' in her way. "Just came in for a drink."

She sort of nodded and stepped way back to give me room to pass, although she kept her eyes on me, like she was worried I might run at her, hurt her even. I guess after what I'd put her through, she had a right not to trust me. With shaking hands, she held her coffee cup in front of her like a shield. "Okay."

Just looking at her again made me cringe, but as much as I wanted to hurry out and escape back to the cool silence of the garage and lose her scent among the smells of oil and gasoline, I couldn't do it. "Look, kid -- Rogue, can I talk to you a sec?" It hurt to ask her like that, all formal and scared, and to think about bringing up the old wounds, when I remembered the comfortable banter we'd always had before.

I kind of expected her to yell at me, or call for Cyke or Chuck or somebody, but she shrugged and stared directly at me. I took that to mean yes.

"You've got every right to hate me for what I've done," I started out, holdin' the Pepsi bottle so tight I thought I might break it. "I can't make you understand why I left you there, that mornin'."

"I know why you did that, Logan," she said, her voice weary and small. "You don't have to explain."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do." She watched me over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a sip, then slid up onto the counter, perching there as the kids liked to do for some reason. "You don't have a lot of memories, not even as many as I do, but as far as either of us can tell, you've never been attached to anybody. You're scared to death of getting truly close to somebody, depending on them, getting vulnerable. To you, women mean sex and good times, nothing more. You're okay with some companionship as long as it's loose and comfortable, with no real bonds, but relationships scare you. You don't want to be tied to another person, and it isn't because you're so independent." She looked me straight in the eye, and her gaze was cold and sad. "You don't feel like you're good enough for anyone, you don't think you deserve anybody. That's why you left. You were scared of being close to me, and scared you were goin' to hurt me - which you did, I'll grant you that - so you ran."

I stared at her, open-mouthed, feeling my pulse beat hard through my temples. I wanted to lie and put on some macho act, and tell her that I left because the sex hadn't meant nothin' to me. I wanted to get pissed and tell her she meant nothin', even though that would have been a hell of a lie. She had no right to tell me I was scared of anythin' - how could she know? I'd killed more than my share of men, a couple of women too, without ever blinking an eye or even feelin' remorse most the time. I'd never backed down from a fight; nothing scared me. But still, somehow, she was right, and worse, she knew it. "How could you know that?"

"Does it matter?" Now she looked almost ashamed, bowing her head. A faint red flush formed on her cheeks. "It's the truth, isn't it?"

"I don't know." She glared at me impatiently, and I nodded, givin' up the tough guy act. "I guess so."

"That's what I thought."

I took a breath, tasting her on the air along with the fragrant orange blossoms someone had set in a vase by the window. For the first time in months, I started to relax. "So -- are we good again? Now that you understand?"

Her eyes flashed golden in the gloom and she shook her head fiercely, dark curls flying as she leapt off the counter and padded barefoot past me towards the door. "Of course not, Logan. You still left when I needed you most."

"But you -- you know why!"

"Knowing doesn't change anything. Knowing doesn't alter the fact that I woke up after the most intimate situation of my whole life and found you gone, with no note, no phone calls, nothing! Knowing doesn't change how bad I felt, or that I wasn't important enough for you to fight all those feelings in order to be with me, or to at least share them with me before you ran. You could have woken me up, you know, and told me you were going and told me why, and I would have let you run as far as your needed, for as long as you wanted. It would have been okay, because I would have known you'd come back in the end. But you snuck out the door and never looked back, just like you would any other meaningless lay you hooked up with, and you did everything you could to forget me. I thought that was the last I'd see of you, until last week when you came back just the way you'd gone, without warning. I can't forgive that." Without a backwards glance, she hurried away.

"Kid!" I called out, but she was already gone, and the hallway was silent.