Another disclaimer. Everyone has to hate these.
Yet again, it must be made clear to the world that I DO NOT own Marvel Comics. Nor do I own the characters I am using for your enjoyment and entertainment. I have no money. I do not know a way to get money off fanfiction—I doubt there is one—but in any case, it's safe enough to let me use them at this time. 'kay?
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The school was abuzz with rumors—every hour a few more popped up. A late night return in a damaged blackbird. Storm in the infirmary—she sure wouldn't be teaching any classes for a while.
"Hey-hey! No history for a while! Score!" Bobby didn't seem too upset by that particular rumor. Rogue hit him. Hard.
"Ah can't believe you. Our teacher is hurt, and all you can think is 'no homework?!'" She sat and glared until his smile withered and he slouched low on the hallway bench.
"Lighten up, Rogue. Everyone knows Jean's a great doctor. She'll be out of there in no time. Along with the mysterious wounded stranger. . . " Jubilee trailed off at their blank looks.
"Oh, like, come on! Surely you heard the whole eyewitness report! I heard from somebody whose roommate's girlfriend actually sneaked out of her room, and she saw Jean telekinetically whisking some guy through the lower floor halls, towards the medlab. He said that she said that there was a trail of blood on the floor, but I'm not sure I believe that part, you know?" Jubilee sipped her soda, oblivious to the stares she had drawn—she hadn't even had to take a breath.
Bobby leaned forward, jerking the half-gone soda from her hands. "No more sugar for you. It's doing things to your brain," he announced in mock-judiciousness.
"It's diet! Aspartame, not sugar," Jubilee huffed, trying to wrestle it from Bobby's hand, "And Rogue," she added in a completely different voice, "there's someone behind you that you might be interested to see."
She looked up to see Logan, who looked a little disappointed he hadn't been able to surprise her. Still, he had to smile at Rogue's dropped jaw. "Hey."
He didn't have time to say much else, since she had gotten over her shock quickly, and naturally, launched herself at her favorite person. She almost tackled him in the middle of the hallway. "Hey, kiddo." He was a little embarrassed, since all of her friends were watching, (and giggling), so he added, "Let's get outta here."
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Later, as they walked the grounds (ooh, folks, gotta remember all the way back to the 2nd chapter!)
". . . so basically, what felt like "remembering" to me was actually just a strong thought of Magneto's, something he would be thinkin' around this time, if something went wrong with their first plan. Ah guess they had an agreement that they'd bust out whoever might get caught, but it sorta had a time delay, since he was thinking more about the plan itself when I absorbed him . . . anyway, when the professor translated that . . ."
"They called me, jumped in the blackbird, and here we are," Logan finished for her.
"Pretty much," she answered shyly.
They walked in slightly uncomfortable silence for a while, admiring the beautiful gardens and trees the school possessed.
"Don't you have to be back for class soon?" Logan asked gruffly, breaking the stillness.
"Nope. With Storm hurt, Ah have a free period right now—at least fifteen more minutes. Then I go to Scientific Machinery Design & Implementation."
Logan blinked at her. "How'd you—I thought everyone was just sayin' she didn't feel well."
"O' course that's what they're SAYIN'! Ya obviously don' understand the finer points and extent o' Salem Center gossip, Logan." She did her best southern-belle impression as she flaunted her superior knowledge.
"You little . . ." Logan chuckled. Rogue waited, smiling, but he didn't say anything about anyone else being hurt. No stranger. Or if there was a stranger, he wasn't talking.
She bent down, scooped up a flat rock, and skipped it across the lake. Logan's went further. "Ah thought you would at least call or write or somethin'," she blurted unexpectedly (Unexpected for Logan, anyway—she'd been waiting a long time to ask). She settled on the bank, with Logan beside her. "It's been a year, and Ah didn't hear from ya once."
"I . . . I just had to sort some things out, you know?" He looked chagrined. "And no, I didn't find anything at the base," he added as he saw the question on her face. He put a fatherly arm around her. "'Sides, darlin', since when is ten months a year?"
"Close enough. You missed my birthday."
"Ah, surely you can cut me some slack on that one, considerin' that I didn't even know when it was!" He gave her that perplexed look that men get when they don't understand a woman's thought pattern. "Besides, by that time, you musta had lots of friends by that time. Like . . ." he squinted slyly . . . "Bobby?"
"Who told you about that?" Rogue's eyes flashed indignantly—to cover up the embarrassment.
"Word gets 'round, darlin', as you told me." He nudged her, hoping for a smile since she had just been teasing him about the gossip rings. She smiled wanly, got up, and walked away.
Logan watched circumspectly, knowing full well that whatever kind of welcome she had expected, he hadn't delivered. Maybe it was better this way. She could get this crush out of her system and chase after someone a few decades (centuries?) closer to her own age. Maybe he could convince Jean to leave Mr. Dickhead and come with him instead. He stared at the rippling surface of the pond, which reflected the huge, virgin timber with foliage just starting to turn. It didn't have any answers either.
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Sorry this is takin' so darn long, folks. I'm trying, really I am. Be patient, and thanks for reviewing! You have no idea what it means to an author unless you write for yourself!
(Note to any Catholics reading this—did anybody else attempt to give up reading fanfiction for lent? And fail miserably?) : D