Disclaimer: What rhymes with orange? Nothing, which is exactly of much of Marvel I own. I rest my case.




Space and Privacy, Part Two: Fallback



The paper was ready to fall apart.

It was too old, too worn, too treasured to exist for much longer, I knew. But how...how could I throw it away? How could I forget about it, just like that?

I couldn't. I was just a sentimental old fool.
Ask me to recite it, I could. Ask to me to point out precisely the spots where my tears had fallen, I would. Tell me I was clinging to something long dead, I'd agree.

Not yet, I told myself, like I had a thousand times before, when I'd been in the same spot at my vanity, clutching the dying letter in one palm, thinking the exact same thoughts that had crossed my mind each other time.

Just a sentimental old fool.




"Why?"

"Because Jubilee, you're too young." I looked up from my book once again. So far, from what I'd heard around, Jubilee had tried to get every single member of the team to give her permission. Anyone would do, really. I was, apparently, a last resort. "And trust me, if Logan was here, he'd never even consider it." She looked up at me with big, puppy dog eyes, and I considered moving from my perfectly comfortable place where I sat reading contentedly. The armchair in the hall would do nicely.

Jubilee followed me (oh, give it up already, child!). "But he's not here, Jean," she drawled, "and it's only, like, a concert, you know." She placed a hand on the spine of my book and gently tilted it down so I couldn't read it (no! Portia was about to confess her undying love for William!). "I never have to take any illegal drugs unless I want to...and I don't! Trust me, I don't!" I shook my head.

"Sorry, Jubes, but no. I'd never hear the end of it from Logan." A fallback, purely a fallback. How was I supposed to know what he'd allow his little prodigy to do? There was certain ground on which one simply did not tread.

"The end of what?" I whipped around, nearly dropping the book. Logan stood at the small flight of stairs that led into the dining room, his bag slung over one shoulder. He was (of course, I had pictured the scene in my mind every day) grinning.

"You're back!" Jubilee raced toward him, arms open. For a spilt second, the jealously I felt made me heady. What I wouldn't give to be allowed to do that. I shook it off, intent on settling in the big red armchair in the hall and finishing chapter six. I heard Jubilee's excited chatter, and tried to block it out, my mind racing with bitter thoughts of annoyance.

Was it really so hard to get a little space, and maybe a bit of privacy in this place? Ah, well, I'd known that when I signed up for the gig. I was actually tempted to lean over an inch or two to glimpse the look on Logan's face.

Seconds later, Jubilee emerged from the French doorway across from me, carting that absurd bag containing Logan's few possessions, and quickly darted up the stairs. Logan walked out behind her (not as rapidly, you understand) and cast a lazy smile my way.

"Logan," I murmured, suddenly breathless. "Glad to see you're home again."

"No kiddin'." A smile creased his lips. "Whatcha been up to, Red?"

"Oh, the usual. Risking life and limb to put food on the table. It's a living."

"You miss me?"

I buried my nose in the escapades of Portia and William, hoping this made me seem indifferent. "I suppose. It was awfully quiet around here without you to..." I trailed off, seeing the familiar look in his eyes.

"I missed you," he said with little hesitation, little caution. I swallowed.

I said nothing.

"You know what day's comin' up?" He felt around his worn leather jacket for something, and finally pulled out a cigar.

I shook my head, hoping and praying to God he remembered. Just once, if he could remember, would make everything okay. From behind the safety of my paperback, I judged his profile as he glanced out the window.

He eased the flame of his lighter onto the cigar tip, clamping the top down after a few puffs. "Chuck's birthday," he said after a moment of simply looking me in the eyes. "Funny you forgot, ain't it?" He turned on his heel and slowly walked up the stairs to his room.

And surprisingly enough, I didn't feel anything.




After ten minutes at staring at the same page in the (and I use the term loosely) novel, I realized that (surprise, surprise!) something might be bothering me. As much as I poured over it, it was like an uneasy feeling you just get, for reasons that probably don't exist yet.

The phone rang.

I figured I may just be the only soul left to answer it (one disadvantage in a house fullof people: no one ever wanted to get the phone. I mean, EVER). I gently picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi, is Logan there?" I was puzzled for a moment. She sounded so young...

"I'm not sure," I drawled out, "but if you hold for just a sec, I could check."

"Oh, sure, no problemo." Hmm. Did people still say that outside of bad eighties movies?

I hurried up to Logan's room and found him inside, and, to my surprise, deeply engrossed in a scribbling something down from the pages of a book. I coughed to get his attention.

"Logan?"

"Huh? Oh, hey Red," he muttered, looking up only briefly from his studies to glance at me. "What's on yer mind?"

"Phone."

"What?"

"There's someone on the phone. For you."

He chewed on this information for a moment, then placed his pen down in the crevice between pages. "Take a message, would ya?"

"No problemo," I smirked.

"He's not here at the moment," I reported to the girl-child waiting faithfully on the other end.

It took a moment for her response. "Well, okay, who am I speaking to?"

I was tempted to be snippy and make life terribly difficult for her, but I simply answered, "Er, this is Jean."

"Well, Jean, could you tell Logan that I called, please? It's Candy. Tell him Candy said everything is set for tonight. Thanks." With a quick giggle and a click, she hung up.

"Ditz," I muttered under my breath as I slammed the receiver down. Just another ditzy airhead of Logan's, his newest (as Kitty put it) trophy of the month. Needless to say, I adored the way she put it.

It was something I'd grown used to, the stream of pretty faces and empty heads that had passed through over time. Not that I'd notice, but lately they seemed to be growing in number (really, honestly, I didn't notice...). Logan had never been without...companionship, shall we say, ever since his very first days here (which didn't mean I had to dislike it any less). But all those girls (and most times that's all they were) had something I did not.

Logan.

I hated it. I hated all of them. They annoyed me. I was distracted. I was bothered. I was...

I was hopelessly jealous.

I scribbled the message down to the exact word and walked rather calmly (considering the words that were swimming in my head) to the room upstairs. He was in the same position as I had left him. I considered throwing my shoe at his head.

"Here," I managed to say with such indifference and nonchalance it scared me. He looked up and reached out to grab it, his grasp about three inches off. I didn't move any closer. With a sigh, he stood up, placing all his stuff aside and walked over to where I stood, rigid as a marble statue.

He snatched it from me, his eyes darting over my words. I think he sort of understood why I was slightly stubborn at the moment.

"Oh, uh, thanks, Jeannie."

I smiled, packing all the false sentiments I could in one gesture. "No problemo, Logan dear."




Scott offered to take me into town with him, but I insisted he go without. I did not, however, dare let him of the hook. He left with a rather lengthy list of everything I had run out of in the span of a week. I'm sure he would have protested if I hadn't persisted with a smile. I sent him on his way with a kiss and my charge card.

There was nothing to eat, of course, so I simply poured myself a cup of lemon tea and settled in front of the fire. I stretched out contentedly on the couch, considering rejoining the escapades of Portia and William. But after I had found it I couldn't bring myself to open to the dog eared page.

I didn't turn when I heard the footsteps coming down the stairs. Not even when I knew the owner of the footsteps paused at the door for a moment, as if making up their mind.

"Have a good time!" I called out with just enough malice to make him think twice.

"Okay, I give." He walked up to the side of the couch side. "What is it?"

I gazed up innocently from behind the pages of my book. "Why, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Logan." I pretended to be completely wrapped up in my book.

"You can be a real bitch when ya wanna be, Jeannie."

"And you can be a real asshole. What's your point?"

"Look at me." After some hesitation, I did. "What's yer problem?"

"Problemo," I corrected.

"Is this about..." he stumbled, and suddenly looked generally stumped.

"Candy."

He frowned. "Right. Candy. Is that what you're poutin' about?"

I stifled a laugh. "Please. Don't kid yourself." I straightened up in my chair. "I have better things to worry about than where-"

He stopped me. "Stop it. It don't suit ya."

I avoided his gaze. "Pardon me?"

"Don't 'pardon me'. You know exactly what I'm talkin' about. Quit it."

"Follow your own advice, Logan." I stood up, face to face with him. He's terribly intimidating. "Those girls are young enough to be my sister."

"Didn't know ya cared."

Abruptly, I turned away from him. "I don't."

He was silence behind me for a moment. I tilted my head to see him as he nodded his head slowly. "Okay then. I'll see ya later, Red." The door slammed.

Wonderful, I thought to myself. Simply divine. Strike up another one for ol' Foot in Her Mouth Grey.




I felt someone poking me, gently at first, the rougher. I opened my eyes.

"Hey!"

"Oh, Jubilee," I was still slightly dazed. "Just the person I want to see."

"Were you asleep?"

I rolled my eyes and shifted my weight. "Apparently, yes." I looked around and noticed I was still in the couch in front of the fireplace.

"What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"At night?" I had practically slept the whole night away.

"No."

"In the morning ?!?" I was three decibels short of shrieking. She nodded carefully.

"Yeah. You've been here, like, all night." Thank you, Jubilee, for once again stating the obvious. I quickly jumped up and habitually ran a hand through my hair, which was stuck firmly to my head.

"Okay then...have you had breakfast?"

She gave me the strangest look. She nodded, and I crossed one thing off my mental list (they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and she IS a growing girl).

After a beautiful, glorious shower, I dried my hair (which is no easy task) and made sure I was half-presentable or the day (which was no easy task, either). Upon arriving at the breakfast table, I was met with some debating looks. I fended them off with a wide grin.

"Morning everyone!" I chirped, making my way to the nearest supply of food.

"Don't you mean good afternoon?" Rogue smirked from behind the safety of her coffee cup.

I laughed, maybe a little too quickly. "Oh, very funny." I sat down, immediately noticing the absence of one person from the table. "Where is everyone?"

"Well," Hank started, brushing a few crumbs from his muffin away. "Scott, as you probably know, is leading a small training session downstairs." I nodded, pretending to know what he was talking about. "Bobby is in town, and Logan, why I haven't seen him all morning."

"He never came home last night, is all," Rogue purred, a grin dancing on her lips. "The ol' devil."

Yep, there it was, the thought that had bothered me all last night for hours before I finally forgot for a spilt second and managed to fall asleep. He was, as I stared at the glowing fire, with another woman. He was, as I worried and reassured myself that it was all in my head, with another woman. He was, as I finally calmed down enough to get some rest, with another woman.

I gulped my juice down so fast it hurt, and politely excused myself, hoping that I didn't look as frazzled as I felt.

Shut up, I told my mind. He's not yours. He's a big boy. He can do whatever he wants to. But my mind insisted otherwise. It remembered.

Words, words from the letter, the letter he had written jumped into my thoughts.

Don't ask me to forget, 'cause I never could, Red.

One line, one single line that repeated and repeated and repeated until I felt dizzy.

Don't ask me to forget, he'd said.

I never could, he'd said.

He had lied to me, I realized with so much sorrow it actually weighted my shoulders. It was nothing to him; but everything, oh yes, everything to me.

I locked myself in my room, feigning illness. I wouldn't even let Scott inside. I moaned about my own misery for a while, having a well of denial built up somewhere inside. All of this only watsed twenty minutes. Oh, damn it.

Damn denial!

Damn Logan!

And most of all, damn Candy!

I heard a knock on my door. "Who is it?"

"Jubilee."

I realized how ridiculous I was being and let her in. "Hey, Jubes." I swept back my messy hair and guessed at what she wanted. "Here, I'll get my keys."

She smiled. "Logan wants to see you."

"What?"

"He probably knew you wouldn't talk to him anyway, so he sent me up to get you."

I blinked incredulously. "What?"

"But you're not supposed to know that until you're downstairs, but I figured you didn't like surprises."

"I adore surprises," I mused. "Tell him to do his own dirty work. If he wants to talk to me, he can come up himself."

"So that's...an invitation?"

"Why not?" I spat.

But he didn't come. After waiting for fifteen minutes, thinking up the best thing to say to him when he finally did show up, he never came. Now I was just plain mad. I stalked down the hall to his room and found him sitting on his bed, lifting a few weights.

"Well?" I crossed my arms and tilted my head. This had better be good.

"Well what?" He looked up.

"Why did you want to talk to me?"

"Who said I did?" He slid the weights back under his bed.

"But...you..." I gestured downstairs, but decided to give up when I realized he had no idea what the hell I was talking about. "Never mind."

"I think the real question is, why did you want to talk to me?"

Taken aback, I managed to stutter, "I-I didn't." Slowly I began to back out of the room.

"Actually, now that yer here, we do have something to talk about." He grinned and moved closer. " I lied to you."

"Oh?"

"Thing is, I don't have a clue when Chuck's birthday is."

"That's okay. He won't mind, I'm sure." I glanced around nervously.

"But see, that ain't all..."

Intuitively (I am psychic, after all) I realzied what topic he was speaking of. Suddenly, I wanted him to forget what day it was. I cut him off. "Did you have fun last night?" Of course, I didn't mean for it to sound so petty and vicious.

He muttered a couple curses under his breath. "Dammit, Red, there ya go again!"

"Logan, I'm sorry. But you can't just..."

"What? What can I not do?"

"You just can't!" I spun around and walked quickly back to my own room, knowing all too well he was going to follow me. He even closed the door behind him.

"You can't go around with a different woman every night, then come back to me with all these pretty words."

"I didn't say anything pretty."

"No, but you were going to." Logan didn't argue. "Either go with those...girls, or come back to me. Not both."

"Jeannie, I can't come back to you. And that ain't my fault." He paced the same path a few times to burn off his anger. "That is your fuckin' choice."

"I know, I know it is," I said, pulling a clump of hair to ease my tension. "Why do we do this?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

He paused, thinking for a moment. "It's been two years, hasn't it?"

"Just about."

"And nothing has changed." He scowled. "Nothing."

"Well..." I began to argue, when I realized he was right. Not one thing had changed. "I think something should."

I must have looked a tad loony diving for my vanity, pulling the safely taped letter from the belly of my jewellery box. With shaking fingers I separated the sacred letter and my photograph.

"Here," I said, handing him the paper. "You take this."

He accepted it, looking slightly puzzled. "Is this...?"

"Yup. And now you take it back."

"I gave it to you."

"And now I'm giving it back. Receiving isn't everything."

"Don't get that way now-"

"Oh shut up, will you?" I placed two hands on my hips. "I want you to...go."

"Go?" Still with the confused looks.

"Go to...you know." I thumbed the glossy picture in the palm of my hand. "It's a metaphor."

"What if I wanted to come back?"

"You said yourself that can't happen." Despite what my mind specifically told me NOT to do, I reached out and cupped his face in my hands, stroking his face with my thumb. "Happy anniversary, Logan."

He put on of his hands over my own. "Happy anniversary, Red."

"Admit it," I said after a short silence. "I don't ask you for much. All I'm asking you to do now is forget."

He brought my hands down and kissed them both. "For your sake, I'm going to say okay. Fine. That I will." He let my hands go, and they dropped to my sides. "But you know I ain't gonna." He smiled a little, half smile, and left.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, before she found me, sitting on my bed, clutching my knees.

"Um, Jean? Are you okay?" She moved in closer when she got no reply.

"I'm fine, Jubilee. Just fine. Is dinner ready?"

"Uh, yeah. Are you coming down?"

"No," I replied slowly. "I think Scott and I will go out tonight."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged her shoulders. "Have fun."

And as collected myself and prepared to face life again after a brief stint as a pathetic, mixed up mess, I thought. I thought how good it was to have what I did. I thought how much worse off I could be. I thought what a long time two years could be, and how much things could change.

Or stay just the same.




THE END