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I actually have an ulterior motive for posting this quickly written chapter, I've created a new community called 'I Heart Rogan' and being bored I decided to set up a Rogan writing challenge, if anyone is interested please check out my profile for the details. Also if anyone wants to join as staff, you're more than welcome, just send me a message.

You've Got To Hide Your Love Away

Drunken logic is a terrible concept, please put your feet up, take it easy and let me explain my findings to you. Firstly you drink, drink like there is no tomorrow, you think to yourself 'Well, I've only had a few, another one won't hurt, I can still walk can't I?'. Then after you've had a skin-full the stage with the pretty substantial disco balls, seemingly talented DJ and extremely worse for wear crowd, appear before you in a haze and you say...'Sure, what the hell, me and my amazing singing voice were destined for the stage'. Especially when you gaze around the bar and your eyes meet Logan's, think of it this way, you are staring at the man that hurt you emotionally and something inside of you snaps. The spotlight is calling your name and before you know it, there you are microphone in hand, attempting to dance like Ginger Rogers and belt out a tune as if you are Christina Aguilera on a good day.

Of course you chose that song, the one that reveals your heart felt feelings to the world and the one man that never discusses 'The mushy stuff'. Falling of the stage is not how I envisioned my performing debut, either. Oh hell, I will just have to cringe, blush and just about die inwardly every time I hear that song from this day forward. I was never the girl that craved for all the attention and look at me now, the karaoke queen of Westchester, New York, who has for an unknown reason checked into a rundown motel and is avoiding all contact with the outside world.

I, to some degree understand why I am here, I didn't want to deal with the hassle of my turbulent love life. Logan, David, Logan, David, Logan, David. Shit, my mind is a tangled mess of romantic notions, passions and every crisis known to man. I opened my heart to him and I began to bleed, I was able to swim comfortably in the pool of blood I had lost and I didn't freak out. Okay, I sang an intoxicated version of 'I Will Survive', possibly caused Logan and David to spend the night in jail and am now in hiding but I don't consider that a freak out at all. Its called an unplanned and very much needed vacation, this is a home away from home, kind of.

Looking around the room, I ignore the familiar urge to roll my eyes, do you remember the list of places I wanted Logan to ravish me in? Well, I am currently lying quite cozily in a water bed, can you guess what shape the bed has been carved into? Sure you can, a heart, one gigantic, red heart. There's a button directly behind me, push that and the room darkens, the fairy lights surrounding the bed, the walls and the ceiling switch on and the bed starts to turn slowly in rather nauseating circles. Trust me, do not try this at home while you are hungover, I almost lost the entire contents of my stomach in one go earlier.

An unwanted knock at the door shakes me out of my musings and I attempt to get out of the bed. Which seems to be easier said then done, if the current circumstances are to be believed. Who the heck would buy one of these damn contraptions to sleep in? Every time I try to stand up my knees sink into the mattress, what is this? Fucking quicksand or something?

Five mind numbing minutes of fighting with the mattress, as my calm and composed guest waits outside I finally free myself from the bed. I stagger tiredly to the door and open it with one hand, crap, I didn't even lock it last night, that crazy drunken logic.

"Rogue?" Storm's placid voice reaches my ears. "Can I come in? I have some clothes and toiletries."

I wave her in and quietly shut the door, no wanting to aggravate my pounding head. "How did you know I was here?" I whisper, gently melting back into the mattress.

"The Professor used cerebro late last night, we were worried." She replies, glancing around the room and placing the bag on the floor.

I should have known, I blame my drunkenness again, I forgot that the Professor was still alive, legs and all. "Mmm." I groan, shielding my eyes from the sunlight.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Well, as of ten minutes ago Wolverine was still in jail, along with a young man named David. Jubilee had no idea where you were, in fact by the time she returned to the mansion two hours ago, she didn't even know her own name." Storm sighs, sitting on the only chair and crossing her legs. "She was drunk, her and Mel made a night of it, apparently."

Whoop de doo for Jubilee and Melvin, at least someone had a reasonably fun filled night. "Mel did mention the dreaded K word though."

"The K word?" I ask her, turning my head in her direction and squinting.

"Karaoke." Ororo smiles.

"Ugh, I'm never going to live that down am I?" I groan, my face sinking into the water bed.

"Its really not that bad." She says with a grin.

"Storm?"

"Yes?"

"Can you say that again without the smile?" I plead, squeezing my eyes shut. "And is Logan still in jail?"

Ororo wipes the amusement from her beautiful face and watches me for a moment. "The Professor called to say that Logan's bail had just been posted, he should be back on the streets within minutes."

"Then its time for me to go to work."

"Why don't you wait and talk to Logan first?"

I scrunch up my nose at the very thought of waiting here until Logan tracks me down. "I think I'll pass." I respond a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice. "I can't afford to be late anyway."

"But can you afford to push Logan away?" She asks me, standing up and walking to the door.

I ignore her question and continue trying to get up. "You don't look to well Rogue, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm hungover Storm, that's all."

She nods her head and brushes a strand of hair from her face. "Call me Ororo, we are friends."

"Then call me Marie, that is my name."

We exchange warm smiles and she nods her head. "Ring me if you need anything Marie." And with that she leaves, the smell of her perfume tickling my nose long after she has gone.

*********

I'm bored but thankfully the hangover has now lifted, its midday and I decided not to check out of my room. I only locked the door and left, I even double checked to see if I had actually locked the door this time. Elbows on the counter, I lean sluggishly, my chin hitting the wood directly beside the cash register, observing the potential customers walk by the store. Somebody please come in and buy something, can't you see I am dying here?

The sound of the door opening and the jangle of the bell excite me to the brink of exhaustion, I would be than happy to jump on the brand new customer and hug them to death...or maybe not. One look at my new customer and I begin to wish that the roof would crumble and fall, burying me here. At least then I wouldn't have to talk to him.

"What are you doing here?" I demand, with a scowl and my headache returning with a vengeance.

"Is that anyway to treat a customer my dear?"

"When the customer is you, yes."

Eric Lensherr browses the nearest aisle and gazes at me with a look of disdain. "We are one of a kind now Rogue." He announces as if he's running for the presidency. "We both took the cure, whether we wanted to or not." He glances down at his hands and sighs. "Wolverine saw to that."

"He can be an ass can't he?" I smile, much to my own disgust. This man almost killed me, he did kill me and I'm standing here talking to him.

"Very much so." Magneto chuckles. "I'm looking to spend quite a large amount of money in your fine establishment today."

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"I need a multitude of new items, I have heard that Charles is miraculously alive, is there any truth in that or is it only a rumour?"

My jaw hits the ground and I fight to regain my composure, Magneto and the Professor, Eric and Charles, oh my goodness. "He's...um, very much alive, legs working and all." I gasp and stutter. Do any of you have an inkling yet, where do I work?

"That's good, very good." He smiles picking up a whip and brushing a finger through the leather tassels. "I look forward to seeing him again, its been far too long."

I nod my head mutely and consider the very thought that the man formerly known as Magneto, also has needs. "I, uh see and will you be purchasing that whip today?"

"I believe so yes, it looks rather sturdy and well made."

My eyes widen and I block out the pictures that attempt to pollute my mind, they are both too old for that type of behaviour. Eric meanwhile, places the whip on the counter and beckons me over. "Have you ever tried this?" He asks me, holding a large tub of lubricant up for me to see. "Is says on the label that it glows in the dark, I can't wait to see Charles's face."

*********

An hour, I had to spend an hour in my enemies company, guiding him around the store as he pointed to a great many sex toys, lubricants, dyes and whips. My manager said that she wouldn't be long, a quick lunch? A quick lunch my pale ass, I know that this part of the city is famed for its shopping, I am friends with Jubilee you know but she is taking the absolute piss, who's going to walk through the door next? Adolf Hitler searching for a purple penis ring or maybe John Wayne's spirit will wander through the wall asking for a pair of leather chaps with a certain scrap of material missing from the buttocks?

Once again the bell jingles and my jaw meets the ground, I am having one of those days again. "Rogue?!" My new customer splutters as surprised to see me as I am him. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here genius." I grumble. "Don't tell me, you want to buy a whip?"

"No, I was looking for a, um never mind."

"Spit it out Johnny, we're closing early today."

Pyro shuffles his feet nervously and glances around the store, a faint blush evident on his cheeks. "Iwanttobuyablowupdoll."

"Do you want to repeat that a little slower this time." I say, having heard every word the first time around. This is just for shits and giggles, I have a very humdrum life, you see.

"A blow up doll Rogue, just find me one and I'll leave."

"You pay for it and you can have it." I reply, slightly worried at his behaviour. "Haven't you found yourself a girlfriend then?"

"She has to be a brunette." He informs me glaring at the opposite wall. "I like brunettes."

I file that piece of information away for a later date and dig through the piles and piles of blow up dolls. "So, how have you been?"

"Okay, you?"

"I can't complain." I lie, producing the correct item and handing it to him.

"Can I take her out of her packaging?" John asks me, his face turning suddenly pale as he reads the writing printed on the side. "Her name's Marie."

I blink at him and shrug. "Do you want me to find you another one? I can always look out back."

"No, I uh...I like her and she has all the correct holes, the name suits her."

"Do you think you can wait until you're outside and then blow it...um, her up?" I suggest, my eyes widening as he hugs the doll close.

Fucking hell.

*********

The bell jingles and I don't dare look up, my head is in my hands deliberately blocking me from view. "If you're here to rob me blind go ahead, I don't care anymore." After the day I have had, can you blame me?

Someone clears their throat, a man to be exact and I gaze up whilst saying..."Are you sure you don't want the money? It would be so much...why are you here? No don't tell me, you found yourself a partner in jail last night and you're now looking for the perfect gift?"

"I ain't in the mood for the bullshit Marie." Logan growls, his hands deep in his jacket pockets.

"Join the club."

He quirks an eyebrow and instead of arguing saunters around the store, paying particularly close attention to the sexy costumes and the leather ankle restraints. "You work here?"

"Yes." I respond, fighting the desire to jump him and make love on this very floor. Marie is going to play hard to get though because she is feeling hurt.

"You get a discount?" He asks me gruffly his eyes darkening.

Refusing to acknowledge him, I turn the tables and ask him a question. "How did you know I worked here?" And the answer had better not be, the Professor told me.

"That friend of yours has a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon." Jubilee, he has to be speaking about Jubilee, no-one else I know fits that description and I didn't exactly make it public knowledge that I just so happened to work in a sex shop.

"You can leave now." I tell him, another customer walking into the store. Thankfully I don't appear to know this one.

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Logan replies sternly, a look of determination in his eyes.

"Fine." I complain with a frown. "Just don't break anything."

I smile at my waiting customer, pondering how on earth I am going to talk sex with this be-speckled man as Logan stands close by, breathing down our necks. Can anyone say 'Drunken logic leads to a lifetime of chronic, emotional embarrassment and pain.'