Disclaimer: See chapter one

A/N: Yes yes, I know… horribly late update. But hey, my semester has started and time is more scarce than good looking guys at a middle-aged singles' party!

As usual, a huge thank you goes out to all the people who take the time to review. I love you, I really do!

I've been informed that the last chapter had some slashy overtones… I read through it again, and damn, it does. I didn't even notice… sorry. As I saw it, it wasn't even John, but Jean. I hope I haven't scared you off… It won't happen again, I promise!

Tabula Fucking Rasa

Chapter 11: Head Space

Last time on 'Tabula Fucking Rasa:'

"I know anger, Logan. I know rage, I know pain, and I know fire…"

Pyro let go of Logan's hand and leaned, just a little, against the claws. Logan's deep brown eyes met Pyro's unflinching ones and his hand was withdrawn, just a fraction.

"Come on, Wolverine. Make a move."

And now, the continuation:

The scent of blood filled the Wolverine's nostrils like sweet, sweet nectar. The part of him that was pure predator revelled in it. It wanted to dig its claws deeper into the soft flesh before it and hear the boy scream. It wanted to turn the being in front of him into a quivering mass of frightened meat, before finally snapping its neck or spilling the red fluid within it onto the floor.

The creature was smaller than the Wolverine, physically weaker and already injured. All these things screamed 'prey.' But there was something stopping him. There was something missing and that fact sent danger signals to his brain. There was a complete absence of that intoxicating fear-smell that should have gone along with the blood. Prey should be afraid.

But the boy wasn't; in fact, he looked almost as eager for a fight as he himself was feeling at the moment.

Not prey, the Wolverine snarled in his head. Predator. Competition.

And not just any predator, but something that smelled like fire, he thought. Whatever it was, it wasn't afraid, and that made the Wolverine nervous. Maybe the flesh before him wasn't worth the fight? The animal in him decided 'not' and turned its attention away from the boy.

Logan sniffed the air.

There was fear in the room, though. The girl, the weaker prey, was afraid, very afraid. The sweet smell seemed to roll of the girl in waves. Rogue. She was staring wide eyes at the two of them, continuously shaking her head 'no'. As he looked at her, she met his eyes.

"Logan, no…" she said, her voice small and faint.

Logan…

His attention tore completely away from the young man in front of him to centre on her.

I'm scaring her. She afraid of me… she shouldn't be. Wrongwrong WRONG!

"No," he mumbled, shaking his head.

With a metallic hiss the claws retracted into his knuckles and his hand dropped from Pyro's chest back to his side. Reigning himself in and caging the snarling beast in his head he blinked rapidly and frantically searched for something to say.

'No one is getting gutted today, so don't worry,' seemed a bit inappropriate, so instead he held his hands a bit out to the side in the typical 'look, I'm not armed' sign and backed away from the boy, who was now absently touching the tears in his T-shirt with trembling fingertips.

"Fuck, Logan. What the hell is your problem?" Pyro asked, but without any real malice or reproach. "Did you think I was gonna rape her or somethin'?"

At his words, Rogue looked at Logan in shock. "You thought that?" she asked, genuinely surprised.

"Logan, tell me ya didn't!"

Seeing as that was exactly what he'd been thinking, Logan kept silent. He remembered the Phoenix' reaction in the infirmary, her actions, her taste…

His mind was frantically scrambling to catch up with events; instinct warring with sense.

A part of him, the predator, wanted blood hurtriptearkill, the soldier in him, almost forgotten but not quite, sensed a non friendly combatant standing not three feet away, and finally, the teacher, the caregiver reminded both the other parts that these were children cubssmallhelpless and therefore his to protect.

"Is that it?" Rogue repeated.

At the lack of response from her first friend, Rogue got out of bed and angrily stalked over to the two males, situating herself firmly between Logan and John.

As she saw it, if Logan wanted another piece of John, he would have to go through her first and that was something Logan would chew his own arm of (adamantine skeleton and everything) before doing.

"That's it, isn't it?" she said, her fear turning to anger. "Logan!" she continued, outraged at his continued silence. "John would never hurt me. Ya know that. He would never harm a hair on my head."

"Oh yeah? Then why the hell did this room reek of fear when I got here?" he roared, eyeing Pyro with unbridled fury.

At first, Pyro met his eyes out of sheer principle and stubbornness, but as the (albeit small) logical part of his mind caught up and analysed the situation as it must have seemed to Wolverine, he kinda got the picture.

Well damn…

"I got confused," he admitted and looked down, acknowledging Logan's right to be angry. "I'm so sorry, Rogue. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just with everything that's been going on and that bitch in my head… she won't let me rest and catch up."

Pyro threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Everything is all fucked up. I can't think straight. Right now, she's having a hell of a good time showing me stuff I don't want to know, seeing if I'll break down cryin' or something. It's like she's testing me… I don't know," he trailed off.

But I do Logan thought.

The Wolverine knew exactly what the Phoenix was doing. The pushing and prodding, the drive to constantly keep her vessel, opponent, host, whatever on edge and weak was a very familiar tactic to him. Unknowingly or not, Pyro was at the moment locked in an Alpha fight with the entity in his head.

"She wants to establish dominance over you," he explained. Two pairs of eyes turned to him, Rogue's filled with questions and Pyro's with instant understanding.

"Oh, right. Of course," John said, shaking his head at his own obliviousness. "The old 'you're my ho', so bend over already' routine. I get it."

Well, bring it on bitch. I'm good at this shit.

"John… It's okay," Rogue whispered. Seeing her friend so upset made her forget her own fear and apprehension completely. He looked exhausted, she thought.

It must be hell on him, being constantly on edge, not being able to control all that emotion and in pain at the same time.

A sudden thought came to her and, putting her arms around him, unafraid, she smiled at him and said: "I know how you must feel."

At his disbelieving 'yeah right' look, she continued.

"No really, I do," she said. "A lot of people go through periods similar to this, although not this bad… usually," she amended.

"They do?" he asked, incredulous.

"Well yes," Rogue said with a small playing on her lips. "It's called PMS and there is only one cure: ignore the fucker and get some ice cream!"

With that statement, she grabbed him by the arm and started to tow him toward the door, headed for the kitchens.

"We can just make it, before people wake up, if we hurry," she enthused.

"Umm, Rogue?" John said. "I would love some ice cream – been a while, and all that, but my head is killin' me and so are these."

He gestured to the puncture wounds on his chest which were oozing blood down his shirt.

Rogue's face fell. "God, of course. I'm sorry, I didn't think." She let go of his arm. "You should go to the infirmary and get those looked at."

"Hey, maybe you could get the goods and bring them down there?" he asked, a hopeful expression on his face. "I always wanted to try breakfast in bed," he continued.

"Sure. That's doable. You just go down there and I'll be right with you," she said.

Rogue was leery of being away from him for some reason. In the year or so that she'd known him, he'd never let her or anyone else care for him. When he was sick, he locked himself in his room and became, if possible, even more stand offish. When he was hurt, he ignored any discomfort and focused his entire being into appearing as though he didn't feel a thing. Here was a golden opportunity, as she saw it, for some long overdue mother-henning.

Adopting her most pronounced Southern Belle accent she batted her lashes at him and said: "Would ya like some Java and a croissant with that, Mr. Allerdyce."

Is she flirting with me?

"Uhh… that'd be great, Rogue! You're a sweetheart," he smiled. "I'd better get goin'. Beast is probably beside himself by now," he added with a self satisfied smirk.

"Yes, about that," Logan started in a gruff voice, having regained his precious equilibrium. "Don't ever pull a stunt like that again, Firefly, or I will have your ass come next Danger Room session!"

He was answered by Pyro's trademarked annoying smirk and an arrogant: "I'd love to see you try, Wolfie."

Yes. Pyro is definitely back. Ahh... the many-splendoured wonder that is John Allerdyce. It was getting boring around here anyway.

Seeing many headaches and frustrations in his near future he growled: "Don't push me, ya punk," and gave Pyro a small shove towards the door. "Get a move on, Allerdyce. We wouldn't want your 'womanly affliction' spreading to the other females on the floor, now would we?" he asked gruffly, inwardly chuckling at the annoyed look on the boy's face.

"Yeah yeah… hang on a minute already."

Pyro expertly circumvented Logan and made his way back into the room, where he stopped in front of Rogue, took her hand and seemed to take a moment to make up his mind about something.

Finally he seemed to reach a conclusion, and with a 'fuck it' shrug he planted a kiss on her cheek. "You really are a sweetheart. You know that, right?" he whispered to her.

Rogue was taken aback.

He kissed me… He actually kissed me. What the?

Seeing her speechless for the first time ever (that he could remember anyway) John smiled. "You let me know, when you have an answer for that, 'kay?" he teased her. "I missed you, babe."

Rogue tried to find something, anything, to say, but her mind was completely and comfortably numb. In the end she settled for a nod, a smile and a light squeeze of his hand.

At Wolverine's very subtle throat clearing, the two teens broke eye contact and John returned to the doorway.

"Are you quite done?" Logan grunted, clearly uncomfortable.

"Yes sir! Ready to move out, sir!" Pyro said firmly, sharply saluting the scowling Wolverine and winking at Rogue.

"Oh, shut up…" Logan grumbled.

The two males made their way out of the room, accompanied by Pyro's almost (but not quite) playfully outraged: "And, Dude, I'm not a chick!"

Rogue watched them go with a small smile. Scary as the thought of the Phoenix entity was, it was a huge relief to finally know what was going on.

Even if he was changed, John was back with her, and felt like a crucial piece of the puzzle that was her life had clicked back into place.

Once again, the cold that permeated the Mansion didn't touch her as the heat of his small touch grew and spread, warming her body to the core like the remnants of a pleasant day spent in the sun.

I missed you too, John. I think I always have…

TBC

A/N: So? What d'ya think? A bit of flirty fluff at the end, just to tide you over, until I can pull myself together and actually write romance. I'm getting there… I really am.

I know I said that there might be a return of another character, but I'll hold that off a bit. He/she didn't want to play yet.

Please please please take the time to review! Each one will be answered, and if you review anonymously and want to hear from me then just leave your email address. It will mean ever so much to me to hear from you (all of you). Even if you don't like the story, I'd like to know why.

A/N2: I'm contemplating a slash fic, to blow off some steam. It will be Bobby/John, and I'm curious as to whether or not people would read it? What do you say?

Next time on Tabula Fucking Rasa – Chapter 12: And I Feel Fine