New chapter, obviously and I've finally been able to release a certain plot bunny that's been bothering me since I first began this story. I can't believe it's taken me so long, but the day has finally come. You'll need to read the chapter to understand what has me so excited.

This idea was there from the very start of the first chapter, it wouldn't leave me alone and I knew I'd use it eventually. I just had to wait and bide my time, I've certainly done that. I'm even looking forward to writing the next chapter because I love plot twists and secrets.

Thanks to: Princesakarlita411, alexmonalisa, Raven34link, The Reserved Reader, ady-ell, comic-cake, starlight2twilight, Ragamuffinsundrop, CrushedHalex, wedimagineer and my rambling, cardboard boy loving kidnapping accomplice - I loved reading all of your reviews.

On a more serious note, I now have the Wolverine movie on my iPod and it's a little too distracting. Have you ever tried to take a bus ride while staring at the lovely Hugh Jackman and his naked flesh on a tiny screen? I was only going to meet my friend, at one point I gazed away from the screen for a few seconds and saw my friend... She was standing at the bus stop, the same bus stop I was supposed to meet her at. Strangely, I forgot to press the bell until it was too late and had to get off the stupid bus at the next stop. That film should carry a warning, the type of warning that warns you that friends and grumpy bus drivers might not understand how easily it is to be distracted by Hugh and his nakedness. LMFAO!

On an even worse note, I need to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I'm off to the north east to watch my first football match in years. It not only gives me more time to watch the Wolverine film, but I get free fish and chips too, what a perfect day :P

Let It Be

Whisper words of wisdom,

Let it be

We're one of those couples. A silent couple that sits opposite each other silently in the middle of McDonalds in silence. I hate those couples. They eat, drink, sit, yawn, stare, scowl, frown, arch eyebrows and ignore each other in complete silence.

It's silly, ridiculous, stupid, insane, childish and I'm not apologising first. What do I have to say sorry about? I was trying to teach Logan a lesson, that was all. I'm self conscious of my breasts, he should know that already. I mean, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work it out. Every woman dislikes and wants to maim one part of her body to death, my first target would be my breasts.

Perhaps the Professor would fund a boob job? He's stinking rich and rolling in Benjamin Franklin's. If I promised never to mention his needs again, and turned a cheek to a future smash and grab at the sex store, I bet he would. He's nice like that, always wanting to donate to a good cause and make a better world. Who's more persecuted then a woman with low self worth and natural breasts that resemble bee stings?

I'm all natural and I pride myself on that… Well I used to.

Why won't these niggling feelings go away? They're chipping away at what little confidence I had. I'm sorely tempted to let myself loose with a scalpel, silicone implants and a bottle of vodka for courage. After all, I'm not a great fan of needles and the sight of blood makes me feel faint.

Logan slouches back in his chair and I know he's staring at me, I can feel it. When he looks at me, my nipples harden and those fine hairs on my arms, legs, feet, crotch, and the back of my neck stand on end.

I guess I really need to shave more often, a colour coordinated rota is probably in order. I'd need to buy some highlighters though, and some card. There must be a store around here somewhere, oooh, I hope there's a Staples, I love shopping at Staples. Sometimes I think I was destined to become a secretary, a personal assistant or just the greatest manager that Staples ever had.

"I'd bet my bottom dollar your thoughts are runnin' close to mine, Darlin'."

I very much doubt that, but I tear my eyes away from my half eaten fries and fix him with a reproachful glare. He's interrupted my free flowing thoughts and all of a sudden I hated him for it. By the time a girl hit's her early twenties, she's earned herself the right to ramble away in her own little mind without cause or provocation. I guessed that was yet another rule Logan couldn't or wouldn't abide by.

"Not unless you're considering the possibility of some slightly intrusive surgery and a new career as the worlds greatest stationary store manager." I reply as politely as Naomi Campbell at an anger management course for dummies, divas and the damn right dreadful.

He does the thing with the eyebrow again and my eyes instantly dart back to my fries. He knows it turns me on, and I know I need something to distract me, so I stuff a hand full of fries into my mouth. Concentrating on the number of times I chew, instead of that fucking eyebrow, I ignore his curious look.

"What do you mean, surgery?" He demands, rudely ignoring the mention of the second most celebrated store in the land. The first is of course where I work, that place is just the nuts. I wouldn't say it was close to Logan's nuts, more of a chocolate Brazil nut like status. They're larger then peanuts and I guess they come from Brazil. I've never been there and I wonder if it's as exotic as it sounds?

I really don't like peanuts, not even the chocolate covered ones. Would Logan grumble and threaten to claw my eyes out if I dipped his balls into melted chocolate? It'd be an alternate version of a fondue evening, but instead of dipping strawberries into the melted chocolate, you bring your own man and dip away.

"What do you know about Joey's family?" I question him, deliberate changing the subject. "There was this look on his face earlier when he talked about his mom, it upset him."

"He probably was upset, she's dead."

My gaze snaps to the play area that we're sitting a stones throw away from. I chose this table especially, I wanted to keep an eye on him. I watch Joey play happily with the other kids, he hurtles down the slide and dives into the pool of multicoloured plastic balls.

"But he's so young, it's just not fair." I whisper, resting a hand on my chest. My hearts just broken in two and I want to rush in there, mother him to death, and hug him until he can't stand the sight of me.

"People die, that's life." Logan responds, a little too emotionally detached for my liking. He must recognise the look in my eyes because he elaborates further. "Least he got to know her. She might be six feet under, but the kid's got the memories."

I'm sure there's some kind of sweetness hidden under those words. Is it possible that he's finally warming to Joey? Logan even saved him from being crushed by the T-rex earlier. Although it's possible he realised I'd never have sex with him again if Joey had been squashed. I've never seen him run so fast, he scooped the little boy up in his arms and dived out of the skeletons way.

"What happened to her?"

"Drunk driver mowed her down at a bus stop, the kid saw. He tried to move the car off her."

I blink at Logan through knitted brows. "Oh, God, the poor thing." I say, the sadness cracking through my stubborn resolve. I didn't want to talk to him, but that never lasts longer then a few hours. There's something about Logan. It's like I'm a flexible, bendable paper clip and he's the horny, hot magnet.

The horny, hot and hairy magnet dumps his empty burger wrappers on the tray. He ate three double cheese burgers, one Big Mac and half of Joey's hamburger. I guess he was a little peckish, but he still complained that McDonalds didn't sell beer.

"The shock of it all probably caused his mutation to manifest, that's what Storm thought anyway." Logan sighs, digging in his jacket pocket and without a growled grunt of 'Abracadabra,' he produces a cigar held tightly between his fingers.

The sudden realisation that I have no idea what Joey's mutation is, hits me like a tonne of bricks, Maxwell's silver hammer and a cellphone thrown by Naomi Campbell. "I don't even know what his mutation is."

"That's because you're too wrapped up in your own little world."

That hurts and I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. But it might just be my large, weekend style handbag that I throw over my shoulder as I stand. "Okay, I'm selfish, I get it."

Logan along with his ever vocal eyebrow and big mouth continues to dress me down. And not in the fun way. "You walk through life without a care in the fuckin' world, Marie. When you ain't shiftin' the damn blame for your mistakes, you're either ignorin' me, or holdin' back the sex."

"Oh, so that's what this is all about, huh!" I snap back, not caring if the entire restaurant descends into silence, and who doesn't like silence? "The Wolverine isn't happy unless he's humping the day away and his girl is this close to battering him to death with her handbag! Have you any idea what this weighs, Logan? I could be arrested for carrying an offensive weapon around with me."

I turn my back on him and stamp all the way to the rest rooms. I don't fucking care if people are staring, my bladder needs all my undivided attention at the moment. I knew I shouldn't have ordered the extra large Cola.

Throwing the door open and cringing slightly as it slams against the tiled walls, I scold myself for throwing a tantrum. I must learn to embrace the silence from now on. I'm above this, I'm an adult and I haven't thrown a tantrum since I was seventeen… That was Logan's fault too, come to think of it.

He's got such a bug up his ass, he needs to learn to take a deep breath and walk away from a situation. If I bother him that much, if I'm so utterly repulsive and he hates the fact that my boobs are small, then he can leave. I can be single, I liked being single and it's not like I'd miss the sex.

Oh boy, who am I kidding?

Stepping into the ladies restroom I hear a couple of slightly suggestive grunts and I find myself blushing. I bet sex was on Logan's mind when he first started the conversation with me at the table, he really isn't an unnecessarily chatty guy. It's very polite of him to even bring it up at all, usually he'd just throw me over his shoulder and march to whatever place had caught his eye. It could be his car, truck, a cave, Charles's office, under a rock, on the roof, in the garage or I suppose a public restroom in the middle of a busy McDonalds during the peak times on a Saturday afternoon would do.

They might not be having sex in there, it could be a serious case of constipation…

"More!"

Or not.

The door opens, a couple trip over each other and their entwined limbs, tumbling to the floor and landing at my feet. Great, now this isn't embarrassing at all, is it? I try not to stare, I really do, but I can't help myself. There's a naked guy in front of me, well his pants are hanging loosely from his ankles and that's not the only thing hanging loosely. You'd think he'd be able to get it up with all the noise his fuck buddy was making.

I gasp, I scrutinise every inch of his face, then gasp and point. I feel the urge to gasp once more, just so the naked man understands how shocked I am. He smiles at me, he fucking smiles and before I know what I'm doing my hand is rummaging through my bag. "I can't believe you could do this…" I snarl, my hand finally finding my weapon of choice. I pull it out of my bag slowly, and glare for all I'm worth.

Now he fully understands my position on his extra curricular activities, I slam the weapon against his clammy skin and taser the shit out of him. "You rat bastard, Mel! You lying, cheating, bastard, you're not even a decent plumber!"

The woman looks terrified and begins to crawl away from me. Mel slumps to the ground twitching and whimpering, I start to back away before I shove the taser down his fucking throat and fry his tonsils.

First Logan insults me, I find out about Joey and now Jubilee is going to marry a lying, no good cheating, shitty plumber who has nothing better to do on his Saturdays then… Then… Well, do other sluts while my best friend is sitting at home, and dreaming of the perfect white wedding.

"Die you asshole, die!"

"Why did we have to leave, I was having fun." Joey whines from the back seat for the fifty eighth time in a row. It's Logan's turn to answer this time, I'm having trouble putting into context what happened.

"Cause' it was time to leave, Kid." He grunts over his cigar, his eyes flickering to me. "People get a little funny when they think they're witnessin' a murder."

"Wow, was someone really getting murdered?"

I refuse to look at Logan again, so I merely glance out of the car window. The scenery is so pretty this time of year. "No, Joey, nobody was murdered, Logan saw to that."

The car falls into silence once again and you know how I love silence. It's such a beautiful thing, especially with a mind like mine. Oooh, look there's a Staples, I wonder if they sell tasers? Logan crushed mine with his bare hands after I tickled him with it. Okay, so it wasn't much of a tickle, more of a sharp burst of electricity attacking his nerves, but that's what you get when you attempt to persuade me not to taser a lying, cheating bastards testicles off.

I was going to take the testicles back to Jubilee; she'd cry, scream, laugh and then we were going to have fondue. It was going to be fun, I'm supposed to be her best friend and that's what best friends do.

Logan draws the car to a stop and hands Joey a ten dollar bill, telling him to buy some candy, or whatever shit kids buy these days to rot their teeth with.

The door shuts and I know I'm in for it, nobody tasers the Wolverine and lives to tell the tale. "You outta your fuckin' mind?" He growls, the spit decorating the side of my face. "That the way you act when you've got a kid with you?"

That wasn't what I was expecting, no really, it wasn't. He's more concerned about what Joey may have witnessed, then me tickling him with a taser. Maybe he liked the taser? If it turned the likes of him on, then we should start stocking them at the sex store, they'd sell like hotcakes to the perverts.

I don't answer, there's really not much to say. I should be concentrating on how to break the news to Jubilee without her having a nervous breakdown and burning down Mel's home after setting fire to his clothes and sneakers in the bathtub. She doesn't react well to bad news, bad hair days, bad complexions, bad outfits, bad breath…

"Shit, Marie, maybe that crack on the head did some damage,"

I don't answer that either, it'll only lead to another argument. I suppose that's why silence is golden. Whoever came up with that saying must have been unfortunate to have met Logan.

He chews thoroughly on his cigar and sighs, "Where the fuck did you get the taser from anyway?"

"I found it after the raid, Stryker's men…"

Logan growls and my mouth snaps shut. He doesn't like to be reminded of that time or of Stryker, some wounds never heal. Jean's one of those wounds, and I can't help feeling that we wouldn't be together if she was still here. She had breasts to be proud of, they were so round and pert. They weren't like mine, poor Joey saw his Mom die and what about Jubes?

As soon as we get back to the mansion, I'm going to find Jubilee straight away, sit her down and tell her what I know. This wedding can't go ahead, and I won't let it.

Wolverine opens his mouth to growl through another tirade and I beat him to it, "Let it be, Logan."

One month later…

I'm a fucking coward, that's yet another missed opportunity to talk to Jubilee. She thinks I've been avoiding her and that's because I have been avoiding her. Hence why I'm a coward and the biggest coward going. I may as well change my name to: Coward Marie Hasn't Been Laid In Over A Coward Month And Will Not Look At Her Coward Naked Self In The Mirror D'Ancanto.

I'd need a pretty substantial sized credit card to fit that name on. Of course I'd then need to buy a bigger purse and bag. There's always the possibility I could hire somebody to carry it around for me, not that Logan would approve if the person was a male, or was female but looked rather masculine.

Our relationship is hanging by a thread and Logan's all for shredding that damn thread with a claw. Don't get me wrong, I know he cares for me. But nothings been the same since the taser incident. He's probably just harbouring unresolved issues towards my right hand.

It's not like I can talk, I won't let him near me. We might still share the same bed and I know he's a red blooded male with more needs then the Professor, however, my breasts come first.

That's why I'm loitering outside Hanks office in the lower levels, I came to a decision last night when I came across one of Logan's porn magazines, the asshole left it out on the bed knowing full well I'd see it… Wait, this is not about him, it's about my decision.

I think I need a drum roll for this, I'm going to take a deep breath and admit it to you, my friends, "You see, I've been thinking about this for weeks now and…"

"Rogue, who are you talking to?"

Hanks voice almost causes a heart attack and I think I might be coming down with something. How did I not hear him walking towards me, look at the size of those feet! I strangely find an extremely hairy man attractive in a tuxedo, I wish Logan would make the effort once in a while. I bet Beast has to have that suit dry cleaned every time he wears it, just think of the fur.

"Um, just myself." I reply, wringing my hands together and shuffling from foot to foot. "I find it calms me down."

"There's been another argument with Logan, hasn't there." He sighs, gesturing me to follow him into his office and take a seat. "I'm sorry, but even with my expertise I couldn't guarantee I'd be able to cure his anger. I do have a pamphlet somewhere for a lovely place off the coast of Scotland though, I hear they serve their steak beautifully and with a bottle of the finest wine." He opens the filing cabinet and starts to search for whatever the hell he's rambling about. "They also have the best therapists and doctors money can buy, I'm sure the Professor would…"

"Hank, I don't want to send Logan away."

Chuckling to himself, he stops what he's doing and collapses in his seat. "That might be a wise move, although, he wouldn't have to know about your involvement. I'm sure there's a way to bypass his healing factor and inject a substantial amount of anesthetic into his blood stream. I know I read about a type of drug…"

Hanks up on his feet again and hunting through piles and piles of paper work on a small table to his side. "No, I'm really not here about Logan, I'm really not. I want a boob job, and I need a recommendation from my doctor."

He drops the papers and they litter the floor. "I don't quite understand, Rogue."

"That I don't want to send Logan away or I want a boob job?"

"Well, both, actually."

I slap my hand against my forehead and groan at the absurd thought that the X-Men are supposed to protect the people of the world. Those poor unfortunate people, have they any idea how close they are to losing everything?

Hank stares at me and I stare back at Hank.

He's not wearing a tuxedo this time, that was days ago and he was taking Storm out to dinner. Apparently she ate the fish and he seen, smelt and gnawed on the worst steak he had ever had the misfortune of encountering. That's not why I'm staring though, he doesn't always wear a suit and talk about food.

"Is this some strange doctor way of telling me you don't think it's a good idea to have a boob job?" I ask him, wiping my increasingly sweating hands on my denim clad legs.

"A breast enlargement is completely out of the question, yes." He responds, the sympathy etched on his face as he gives me his best doctor's look.

"I can't believe it," I gulp, the reality slowly sinking in. "I'm sick, I'm sick and I'm going to die."

The tears roll down my cheeks and Hank places a box of tissues on my lap. He rests a furry, blue hand on my shoulder and attempts to be heard over my blubbering. "You're not going to die, Rogue and the sickness should pass."

"I haven't even been sick, I can't do anything right." I sob, mopping up my tears with a handful of tissues. "You don't understand, I'm going to die because Logan's going to kill me!"

"It wouldn't surprise me if Logan already knows, his sense of smell even surpasses mine."

"You mean he knows I'm four weeks pregnant and the bastard hasn't bothered to tell me?"

Blowing my nose, Hanks does all he can to calm me, but it's too late. The tears are coming thick and fast, we're all going to drown in here. I remember I used to visit Logan in this room after he saved me from Liberty Island, he was unconscious for so long and I thought he was going to die.

Now he doesn't like my breasts, I don't like my breasts, we're not talking to each other and I've been impregnated by one of his many scared sperm. I can't be a mother, all I want to do is run away to the nearest Staples and beg for a job. I never asked for a baby, I asked for bigger breasts that was all. Bigger breasts, a managers job, The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator and the immediate resurrection of the two dearly departed Beatles members… Was that so difficult?

I'm strong, I can handle this, I'm going to whisper words of wisdom to myself and let it be. Yes, that sounds like a plan. Thank you, Paul McCartney.