So, it's been months. Sadly, quite literally. On the bright side, my Writer's Block has evaporated and I think I'm going for an update a night for the next week. If anyone is still following this story, that is :):) THANK YOU so much to everyone that has reviewed/alerted/favourited so far, and I apologise profusely if I haven't got back to you. That will change from now on :)

Anyway, this chapter is something of a filler chapter, and I know the tone is slightly different, but I wanted to show a little bit of the relationship between the new mutants. It is important to the story later, I promise.

Also I'm entering insanely plotty territory now, which is something I've never done before, and I was wondering if anyone out there would be prepared to beta for me, to keep me on track? If anyone's interested, drop me a line.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and my writing hasn't suffered too much from months of disuse. And thanks to Xanthaie. She's a bloody good slave driver and I love her for it!

Later that morning, Rogue was feeling both better and worse. She was better because tiny particles of caffeine had whizzed through her bloodstream, converting her from sub-human gorilla to fully functioning mutant. She was worse because, despite this, she still hadn't managed to fathom a reason for Scott's strange behaviour.

Had it been any other inhabitant of the mansion, except perhaps the Professor, Rogue would have let it go already. But Scott was always so…what was the word? Not anal, although a naughty voice in her head suggested that. Together, perhaps. Yes, Scott was a very together person. Rogue sometimes, in her madder moments, pictured him as a baby with perfectly groomed hair, non-wrinkled baby clothes and an impeccably organised schedule of baby activities.

So to see him acting so out of character, and, if she was completely honest, like something of a psychopath, worried her. Worried her to such a degree that she had actually considered going to see Jubilee in the vain hope she might be able to throw some light and reason on the matter.

Of course, halfway to Jubes' door, the very ridiculousness of this idea had kicked in, and having regained her senses, she had changed direction and headed instead to the Danger Room; in the hope that a work out would eradicate both the feeling of confusion and the well-suppressed tidal waves of embarrassment over her behaviour towards Logan, which would no doubt, make themselves known at some point.

Rogue had ignored the little voice inside her head that had suggested she was in fact, going to the Danger Room in the hope of seeing Logan, because it was insane, ridiculous, and quite frankly, infantile. Anyway, the only reason she would ever want to see him ever ever again would be to see if he had indeed ended up with polka dot sideburns. That might be worth the dying of humiliation that was sure to follow.

However, very unfortunately, as Rogue stood outside the Danger Room door, it was utterly obvious that the area was already in use. The highest level of security codes were set on the door and from the sounds emanating from the room, something was being giving a real going over. And not in a fun way.

Doing her level best not to sulk as her plans for the afternoon fell apart, Rogue decided to instead head up to the observation deck. Might as well watch other people committing acts of violence in the absence of an opportunity to do it herself.

Pushing the door to the deck open, Rogue was halfway into the room before she even registered another presence. Clearly the emotional trauma of the last twenty four hours had rendered her senses useless. And really unfortunately, she was entirely into and halfway across the room before she registered that that presence was Logan. She had now had two options. Turn around and walk straight back out or stay and try to bluff her way through a conversation.

Deciding that running away would not only be cowardly but would also increase the awkwardness at a later date, Rogue turned to face her best friend, an expression of fake innocence on her face and inwardly prayed he wouldn't skewer her.

'Hey Logan!'

God. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded squeaky and far too fakely happy. She sounded like a Malibu Barbie after a little too much sex on the beach. The alcoholic or the physical version. Logan was clearly not impressed either, because she saw his eyebrow quirk up, and he grunted in her direction, but didn't actually credit her with a verbal reply.

There was a very long pause.

Determined not to be deterred (although running away was looking increasingly attractive), Rogue edged forward until she was leaning against the glass wall next to him. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on him, and decided perhaps she should break the ice by making small talk about whoever was fighting in the Danger Room.

'So,' she began, still sounding horribly bright and chirpy, 'what's going on down there?'

The very second the words left Rogue's mouth, she wished wished wished she could take them back. What in God's name was wrong with her?! Why had that sentence had to have such an awful double entendre?! She could feel her cheeks flaring scarlet, and if Logan didn't speak in precisely five seconds, there was going to be a Rogue-shaped hole in the opposite wall.

Luckily for her, he either didn't notice her question, or was just manfully ignoring it, because he grunted,

'New kids are kicking the shit out of each other.'

It was a credit to just how interesting that statement was that Rogue was momentarily distracted from the elephant in the room.

'Huh?'

Logan jerked his head irritably towards the Danger Room.

'The Silent Stick and Tentacles.'

Rogue looked down into the Danger Room. Sure enough, down below them, locked in some kind of insane battle/dance were the two new mutants. Neither had been given X-Suits, and Tendril was wearing loose tracksuits bottoms and nothing else, whereas DeathTouch, presumably because of his skin, was clad in a long-sleeved shirt.

Had that been all, the scene would have resembled two men having a workout. As it was, Tendril was surrounding by eight dancing metal tentacles, and DeathTouch was armed with a seemingly endless supply of wicked-looking silver knives.

As Rogue watched, DeathTouch seemed to produce a knife out of thin air (presumably the program could be instructed to give him this advantage) and, in a move so fast Rogue barely tracked it, flung the knife at his sparring partner. The blade arched through the air, light glinting off the metal, aimed straight at a gap in Tendril's armour.

Rogue felt her eyes widening in shock, but just as the knife was about to make contact, a silver tentacle flashed down through the air and the knife was knocked harmlessly to the floor. This would have been impressive enough on its own, but at the same time, a second tentacle had morphed into a sharp pointed spear and flown directly through the air at DeathTouch's head.

Once again, Rogue found herself convinced the knife would find it's mark, but in the nick of time, DeathTouch pirouetted neatly sideways and with a gut-wrenching groan, the knife was buried in the wall, mere inches from his head.

The entire short display was more skilled than anything Rogue could have imagined, and she could barely comprehend the hours the two men must have spent; working, practicing, training, to reach anything near this level of expertise. In a battle, she thought, they must be absolutely lethal.

'Impressive, isn't it?'

Rogue jumped. So caught up, had she been, in the little display below, she had completely forgotten Logan's presence next to her. Considering her earlier turmoil, this was quite a feat. She dragged her thoughts together and answered him.

'It's un-fucking-believable.'

The Southern belle inside her didn't like swearing much, but in this case, Rogue felt she was completely justified.

'Shoulda been here when they were doing hand-to-hand. Used moves I doubt One-Eye's even heard of.'

Hand-to-hand?

'They were sparring hand-to-hand?'

Logan didn't dignify her with a repeat.

'But…how?'

'Whaddaya mean?'

'DeathTouch can't…touch. He isn't wearing gloves. Surely it's too dangerous.'

Rogue knew she sounded slightly pathetic, but ever since that day four years ago, when she'd rendered her first kiss almost lifeless, there had been a little girl inside of her absolutely terrified of skin-to-skin contact. She just…couldn't comprehend how DeathTouch could bring himself to fight bare-handed with his best friend.

For the first time since she'd entered the room, Logan turned and looked her dead in the eyes. The expression on his face was unreadable, and she couldn't tell if he was angry or not, as the corner of his mouth quirked up, and he said,

'Trust, Rogue. That's how he can do it. Because of trust.'

The way Logan said that made Rogue think that just maybe there was something more behind that statement than he was letting on, but she knew her chances of getting it out of him were considerably less than nil.

'Yes…but…he could hurt Tendril. He could kill him.'

She was aware her voice had rise several degrees in an extraordinarily unattractive way, and no, she had absolutely no control over it.

'He could. But he won't.'

'But…just one slip.'

'Don't you think that's the same for both of them?'

This statement confused Rogue. She blinked at the unusually profound man standing next to her.

'What?'

'If Tendril makes one slip, then any one of those knives would spell the end for him in a second. He'd be skewered. Yet DeathTouch throws them anyway, because he has complete faith in Tendril's ability to defend himself. Vice versa, Tendril spars with DeathTouch because he trusts him completely not to let his skin get out of control.'

There was a brief silence as Rogue digested this. That was the longest speech she'd ever heard Logan make, and it was so disturbingly insightful, she had to wonder whether he was mentally channelling the Professor. She also couldn't help but notice that he had refrained from calling the two mutants by any derogatory names, which for him was possibly a first. There had been real…respect in his tone.

'So…basically, you're saying it all comes to down to trust?'

'Trust in your partner, trust in yourself.'

Rogue sputtered. He was spouting clichés?! What had happened to her Logan?!

As if he had read her mind, Logan said,

'It isn't a cliché; it's an old Japanese saying.'

'Oh. Right.'

A silence fell and Rogue allowed her attention to return to the two mutants below. They had clearly finished their workout for the day and were both stretching off, and the walls of Danger Room dissolved and re-appeared around them.

She had to admit that the two men had her stumped. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't even comprehend the level of trust that must exist between them. What it must be to have so much faith in someone you were prepared to put your life in their hands for a simple training session. The bond between the two men must be incredibly strong.

As she watched the scene below, she saw Tendril straighten and wince, clearly cracking out an ache in his back. DeathTouch looked up at him, and raised an eyebrow, in a gesture worryingly similar to Logan. Tendril shook his head in mock-disgust and grinned and just for a moment, the two men shared a smile that was so private, Rogue felt like she should look away.

When she glanced sideways at Logan, she saw that he already had.