"Aw, shit." Rogue swore. She closed her eyes as Wolverine's powers, memories, and strength flowed through her. Sighing, she summoned up his control as she pushed his memories down into her subconscious. She wanted to keep a lid on as much of him as she could without nosing through his personal memories.
When she felt in control again, she leaned over the edge of the bed. Wolverine had fallen to the floor when he lost consciousness and his body was crumpled up beside the bed. Rogue reached over to the other side of the bed to retrieve the gloves she'd taken off. Slipping them back on, she got off the bed, careful not to step on Wolverine. She slid her hands under his body to lift him onto the bed, and grunted when he didn't move.
For a moment she looked at his unconscious body in confusion. Then realization dawned on her.
"Goddamn adamantium skeleton, weighs a fuckin' ton." Looking at her fallen companion in frustration, she finally just grabbed a pillow and blanket from the bed. She kneeled down carefully and rolled his body over so his head rested on the pillow. Covering him with the comforter, she stopped. She blushed as a wayward thought informed her that he preferred to sleep in the buff. He must have heard her having a nightmare and gotten dressed before he came in. Kind of sweet really, she thought.
Shaking her head, she finished covering him and stood up. She walked into the main room and picked up the phone.
"Hello, room service? Ah'd like to order a steak. Yeah. Rare." She waited for the cook to come to grips with the fact that someone was indeed ordering a rare steak at a little after 4:00 a.m. As she waited, Rogue felt an urge. Before she could stop herself she added a couple of Canadian Gold's to her order. Then she hung up the phone and waited.
* * *
"Man, too bad those two muties got away."
It was four o' clock in the morning. The last of the bar's stragglers had finally left and two men were hauling the night's garbage out into the alley. The one that was complaining moved toward the first dumpster.
"Hey, man," the second guy stopped him urgently. "Not that one!"
"Why the Hell not? It's the closest." The first guy snapped defensively.
His companion gave him a look. Understanding dawned on the man's face. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I forgot we dumped that guy's body. Damn that was some mess."
"Yeah," the second guy agreed. "Gotta be the goriest fight we've ever had here. Still, at least that guy's finally out of the fights for good. It's about time someone else had a chance to win."
"Damn straight," the first guy agreed. "Who the Hell was he anyway? Always creeping out of the woods to show up on our biggest night of the week, just in time to take out the last guy. I've never even seen someone come close to beating him."
"You think he was a mutie too?"
The man thought about it as they dragged the garbage over to the other bins. "One way to find out for sure," he smirked, gesturing back at the first dumpster.
The other guy just shook his head and opened the lid to throw their bags into the empty dumpster. As they turned back around they both heard movement coming from inside the first bin.
"What the Hell is that?" one of them asked, startled.
"Probably just some animal that crawled out of the woods," mumbled the other.
There was a growling from within the dumpster and both men backed away.
"Maybe it's a cougar."
Suddenly the lid to the bin was thrown back. Before either man could make a sound, a hulking seven foot figure leapt from the dumpster and landed in front of them. Their mouths dropped open in terror as the snarling creature grabbed them by their shirtfronts and held them up at his eye level.
"Where is he?" Sabretooth ground out.
The first man began shaking in his grip as he struggled to make his vocal cords work past his fear. "W-w-we don't k-know."
Sabretooth growled, the dried blood on his face cracking as he glared at his victim. Putting the other man on the ground, he raised his free hand and brought his talons slashing down into the man's body. The other man still in his grip nearly fainted as his friend screamed in agony. He turned away as the man died on the dirty alley floor.
Sabretooth turned back to him, a wild glint in his eye. "The mutant."
"H-h-h-h-he went th-that way! With a woman! Th-th-they went towards Uton!"
Sabretooth turned in the direction he was pointing. Preoccupied, he dropped the man, and turned to go.
The man stood for moment, looking down at the body of his slaughtered friend. He was in shock, unable to move. As his body tried to warn him to get out of there, he heard a sound behind him. Then he felt a searing pain across his back as talons torn through his flesh and bone.
Falling down beside his friend, the last thing the man saw before he died was his murderer, bounding off toward Uton.
* * *
Wolverine groaned. His nose twitched as the smell of steak wafted over to him. Opening one eye, he saw Rogue sitting beside him. There was a steak on a plate beside her with a little bucket of ice with a bottle of Canadian Gold in it. An open Canadian Gold was beside her hand.
Rogue smiled down at him. "Well, Ah touched you. Happy now?"
Wolverine raised his eyebrows and looked at the steak. Rogue followed his gaze. Chuckling, she picked up the steak and handed it to him as he sat up.
"It's a peace offering."
"For what? You do it on purpose?" he asked around his steak.
Rogue laughed. "No."
"Then don't be sorry." He looked over at the window. "How long was I out?"
"About four hours. Sorry the steak's a little cold."
Wolverine shrugged it off. "Steak is steak. Specially when I'm feelin' a little low on energy." Rogue looked down and Wolverine immediately regretted his offhand comment. He moved to change the subject. "So are you okay?"
Rogue nodded. "Yeah. Ah'm used to it. Usually, Ah'm pretty good at keepin' other folks' memories at bay, but after a couple of beers and all that excitement, Ah guess mah control slipped."
"So whose memories were they this time?" Rogue avoided his eyes and Wolverine stopped eating. Putting his steak down, he tried to look Rogue in the eye. "Rogue? Rogue whose memories were they?" He had a sinking feeling. "They're mine aren't they?"
"It's okay, Wolverine. Ah've had worse," she said quietly.
Wolverine looked at her for a long moment. She met his eyes briefly and looked away before she finally managed to hold eye contact. The ghosts he saw flicker across her face spooked him with their familiarity. He let the subject drop and picked up his steak again.
"Never did put much stock in silverware," he joked feebly.
Rogue smiled a little. Then she sighed and stood up. "Ah'm gonna grab a shower."
Wolverine nodded and finished off his steak. "Me too." He said standing up. Suddenly, he remembered there was only one shower. Rogue quirked an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. "You go first, just yell when you're done."
Rogue nodded in amusement and grabbed her suitcase before going into the bathroom.
As the door closed behind her, Wolverine viscously leaned down and grabbed his beer. Ripping the cap off, he grumbled to himself.
"When did everything get so goddamn awkward?"
* * *
Sabretooth growled as he walked the streets of Uton. He had been tracking his prey for nearly five hours, and he was already sick of hotels and their sickening scents of mingled humans and their dirty laundry. Luckily, his highly developed olfactory sense and memory allowed him to detect and track a scent over eight hours old.
As he stalked down the road to yet another hotel, people around him suddenly found a strange and compelling fascination in their shoes. No one looked him in the eye, as the seven-foot goliath strode into the hotel.
Immediately upon his entrance, Sabretooth's enhanced senses flared up. They were here. The hotel staff at the front desk shook as he sniffed the air before heading to the staircase. With a grace one would never expect a man of his size to possess, he scaled the stairs. Minutes later, he came back down. When he approached the front desk, the man behind the counter shrank back.
"The man and woman in room 204 – where are they?"
The man stared at him in fear for a moment and Sabretooth growled, jarring him into action.
"Uh, th-they left, Sir," he stuttered, checking the book.
Another growl from Sabretooth. "When?" he ground out.
"N-nine o' clock this morning, Sir." The clerk closed his eyes to block out the rage that was emanating off Sabretooth in waves. For a second, he was terrified that this great giant in the animal furs was going to drag him across the counter and take out his frustrations on him. "I-I think I heard them say something about going to Bamff."
Sabretooth's eyes narrowed. After a moment, he took a deep breath. "You mean Banff?"
The clerk's head bobbed up and down nervously.
Sabretooth nodded. "Where's your car?"
The clerk wordlessly reached into his pocket and threw his keys on the desk. As he felt his knees give out from under him, Sabretooth grabbed the keys and left the building.
* * *
Rogue watched the snowy scenery fly by her window as Wolverine drove down the highway. Canada really was beautiful. She was glad she'd accepted Wolverine's offer of a place to stay; she'd always wanted to travel up North.
As she felt herself being soothed by the sparkling white landscape, Rogue's mind drifted to thoughts of Wolverine. When she'd first met him, she never would have imagined that he would have such an effect on her life. She'd thought he was just another arrogant male who would muscle his way through a mission with all the subtlety of a battering ram.
She'd been pleasantly surprised to see that Wolverine, although definitely rough around the proverbial edges, actually had a keen intelligence that made him a valuable asset to a mission as well as a kindness that made him a caring friend.
Perhaps it was that softer side that had caused Rogue to go from shooting him with a plasma gun, tearing into his body without a second thought, to gently tucking his memories within her mind, taking the utmost care to respect and preserve his privacy. Which wasn't easy considering she'd absorbed him three times already.
Rogue sat up a little and reached down to put her seat back. She was still tired from being up so early, taking care of Wolverine after their little accident. Lying back, she closed her eyes and stretched her legs out, propping her feet up on the dashboard.
* * *
Wolverine stared at the road ahead. He traveled so much; he knew the way to his home from practically anywhere by heart.
He frowned as he thought ahead. He hated the idea of just dropping Rogue off at his apartment and leaving her. She'd never been there, and he hesitated to leave her alone in strange surroundings. Still, this really wasn't a good job to bring her along on.
Beside him he could hear Rogue shift around and put the seat back to lie down. As she stretched her legs out, Wolverine looked at her out of his peripheral vision. He let his eyes follow her legs clad in tight blue denim up to disappear under her brown bomber jacket. He knew from this morning that she had on a snug sweater that hugged her body.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. She had come a long way from being Mystique's soldier in training. When he'd first met her, she'd never worn anything but a simple bodysuit unless a mission called for it. Bodysuits were plain and functional, two words that had summed up Rogue's life. Now she was going to bars, practicing her control, and dressing in a way that showed off how attractive she really was.
And she was attractive he had to admit. As Wolverine turned back to the road, that last thought echoed in his mind. He'd known plenty of women who were beautiful and good in battle, but none of them had ever brought him steak and beer at eight o' clock in the morning.
* * *
It was already dark again by the time they arrived at Wolverine's. Rogue pulled into the driveway of the cabin. It was on a hill, the garage at the lower end and a stairway up the front of the house to the front door.
Rogue admired the rustic quality of the dwelling as she leaned over and tapped Wolverine carefully.
"Hey, Wolvie. Wake up."
Wolverine stirred and opened his eyes. When he saw where they were he stretched his muscles and opened the door.
"Nice job finding the place." Wolverine commented. He reached out to grab his stuff from the back.
Rogue smiled at the compliment. "Thanks. You give good directions."
She opened her door and turned to retrieve her bag.
Wolverine led the way into the garage and up the stairs.
"There's another door in the back facing the woods, FYI. You'll wanna keep that locked while I'm gone."
Rogue giggled as he opened the door and they walked inside. "Aw, you're worried about mah safety. It's been awhile since someone's been afraid someone might attack me instead of the other way around."
Wolverine grunted. "You're a long way from Kansas now, Dorothy." He walked over to the table. A plain white envelope was sitting there. Wolverine opened it up. Reading it quickly, he sighed and turned to face Rogue. She'd stopped inside the door and was looking at him expectantly.
"You can put your stuff in there," he said, gesturing to a room.
Rogue nodded and went to put her things away.
Wolverine stood there for a minute, thinking. The note was clear; this had to be done ASAP. He was expected to be in Calgary by 2100 hours, tomorrow. It was already 1:00 a.m. He had to get his ass in bed, if he was going to be at his best tomorrow. As he turned, he noticed something out the window. Walking over to the front door, he opened it and saw several boxes sitting there. Upon closer inspection, he realized they were addressed to Rogue.
"Rogue?" he called out.
"Yeah?" Rogue poked her head out of her room. Looking past Wolverine, she saw the boxes. "Oh, Ah forgot." She walked over and started dragging the boxes inside. Wolverine gave her a hand.
"What are these?"
"Some of mah things. Ah didn't know you had a pickup, so Ah didn't pack them at first. After we got the truck, Ah called Mama and had her send some stuff."
"How did you know where to have them sent?"
Rogue smiled secretively. "Ah'm our kind of people too."
Wolverine raised his eyebrows, but he had to laugh.
"I gotta say, I'm surprised you have more stuff. I didn't think you had that many personal—" He trailed off as Rogue removed a plasma gun from one of the boxes. "Weapons," he finished. He shook his head. "She sent your arsenal. I hope that plasma gun's not here on my account."
Rogue pretended to think about it. "Nah. Ah like you much better now."
Wolverine chuckled. "Good to hear it."
Rogue smiled and continued unloading her guns. "So when are you takin' off?"
"Tomorrow around 1900 hours. I need to be there by 2100 hours." He rubbed his face with his hands. "Damn. I know I just slept for a few hours while you were driving, but I'm still beat. I look back on the past five days and all I see is driving."
Rogue looked at him in amusement. "Really? Gee, Ah look back on the past five days and I see me leavin' mah mama, drivin' to Canada, watchin' you slaughter some guy draped in wolf fur, and absorbin' you for the third time."
Wolverine snorted. "Yeah, that too." He got serious for a minute. "You gonna be okay here alone?"
"Of course. Actually, Ah was gonna ask you if there are any bars around here."
"You gonna practice some more?"
"Yep." Rogue carried her weapons into her room.
Wolverine nodded. "Yeah, I'll draw out some directions. You want the truck or the bike?"
"Truck. If someone tries to grab for control of mah mind, it'll be safer to be in a truck. Better chances whoever gets control will know how to drive it, plus if Ah wreck, it won't cause as much damage."
"To you or my truck?" Wolverine asked wryly. "And what do you mean, if someone grabs for control?"
Rogue shrugged. "It hasn't happened since Ah was a kid, but it is possible if Ah absorb someone too strong, they could take control of mah body by overriding mah mind." She saw the look on Wolverine's face and smiled. "Wolvie, don't worry about me. It's just a what if, but Mama always taught me it's better to be paranoid than to be sorry."
Wolverine nodded, but as he got ready to leave, he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen while he was gone.
* * *
The next morning Rogue's alarm went off at 9:00 a.m. Sitting up, she yawned and stretched out. It was a good thing she'd had her mother send her an alarm clock. Wolverine had just given her a strange look last night when she'd mentioned that she needed one.
Getting dressed into a comfortable pair of jeans and the same outfit she'd had on yesterday, Rogue made a mental note that she had to get some more clothes. She had a few bodysuits, but Wolverine didn't seem to like it when she slipped into her old routine.
Sighing, Rogue ran a brush through her hair. When she walked out into the living room, she noticed Wolverine wasn't up yet. Figuring he didn't have an alarm either, Rogue went to wake him up. As she walked into his room, Rogue made a mental list of all the things she needed to get from town.
"Hey, Wolverine." Wolverine didn't move, so she sat down on the bed. Leaning down, she spoke softly into his ear. "Wolverine it's nine—"
Suddenly there was a *snikt* and Rogue found herself staring down three adamantium claws. Wolverine's eyes didn't even open when he spoke.
"Rogue, what am I doing tonight?"
Rogue's eyes widened. "Ah don't know."
"When am I doing it?"
"Late?"
"That's right. What time do you suppose I'll get to sleep tonight?"
"Umm, tomorrow morning around six-ish?"
"That's right. So, what do you suppose I should be doing now?"
Rogue swallowed. "Sleeping?"
"That's right."
The claws retracted, signaling their conversation was over. Rogue stared at Wolverine's still form for a few moments before she got up.
"Touchy," she muttered as she walked back into the main room. She sat on a chair at the dining room table for a minute to think. Wolverine was obviously feeling cranky, so he wouldn't be in the mood to help her get groceries.
"Well," Rogue said to herself finally. "Ah guess Ah'll just have to do it mahself." She walked around the cabin looking in the various drawers. Finding the phone book, she opened it up to the restaurant section.
* * *
Later that evening, Wolverine was getting ready to leave. Throwing a few things in a bag, he thought back on his day.
That morning he had been pissed when Rogue woke him up at the ungodly hour of 9:00 a.m. when he had to be up tonight until well into tomorrow morning. He'd been ready to let her have it when he woke up. Then she'd bought him breakfast. Steak again. Wolverine's stomach rumbled in remembrance. He was one of the few people on earth who believed there was no such thing as too much steak. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, it didn't matter. The fact that Rogue had brought him steak for breakfast two mornings in a row spoke very highly of her, and Wolverine found himself feeling a little sorry for snapping at her.
Still, he thought he'd made up for it. After breakfast, he'd taken her out shopping for groceries and to buy new clothes. He hadn't paid for anything; she insisted that her career under Mystique had been quite profitable, and she had plenty of money to buy her own clothes. In any case, though, he had gone with her shopping, helping her pick out clothes and everything. This was not something Wolverine did everyday. Plenty of women would have killed for the chance to force him into shopping trip. Wolverine nodded to himself. His debt was definitely paid in full.
As he walked out to the door, he stopped to say goodbye to Rogue. When she smiled at him from the couch, Wolverine got the funny urge to give her a kiss goodbye.
Shaking it off, he went out to his bike. Life was getting weird. If he didn't kill something tonight he was worried he just may start losing sleep.
An hour and a half later, Wolverine was all business as he pulled into a dark parking lot. Pulling his bike up beside a plain black van, he got off his motorcycle and walked over to the passenger side door. As soon as he closed his door behind him, the van started and turned out of the parking lot onto the road.
The driver was a foreign man, with olive toned skin and black hair cropped close to his head. As the van drove onto a main road, he began to speak.
"We traced a call about 33 minutes ago. It came from an apartment complex about ten minutes from here."
"Ten minutes? Must be a fuckin' amateur, they didn't even get out of the ritzy part of town." Wolverine snorted.
The driver kept his eyes on the road. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't even have been called. From the beginning it's been obvious that whoever took the girl doesn't have the slightest idea what he's doing. Anyone could have retrieved her. Hell, the police probably could have handled this one."
"So what am I doing here?"
The man looked irritated. "Her father is a very rich man. He feels that in order for a rescue mission to be successful, it must be expensive."
Wolverine groaned and leaned his head back on the seat. "Tell me I'm not here to rescue Muffy from the clutches of the Big Bad high school drop-out."
The driver almost smiled. "Sorry. If it helps her name is Jeanette LaCroix. You'll go in and try to get her out quickly and quietly. I'll be down here, ready to call for backup if you need it." The tone in his voice suggested that this was unlikely to happen. "Let's just hope the moron hasn't scared her. I don't want to see her psychiatrist's bill if she actually broke a nail."
* * *
Jeanette LaCroix laughed as she raised her champagne glass. Across from her, her boyfriend Craig smiled.
"Well, babe, soon your dad's money will be ours. All those millions to start a new life in sunny Acapulco."
Jeanette tossed her blond shoulder-length hair over her shoulder. "Right. And there's nothing daddy dearest can do to stop us." She took a sip of her champagne and giggled. "Poor daddy, he's probably going crazy trying to rescue me. I wonder who he'll call this time?"
Craig frowned. "Hopefully, he'll be smart, and leave the police out of it."
Just then, the door to the apartment burst open. Jeanette screamed as Wolverine ran into the room. His claws were drawn and he quickly took in the scene. When his eyes fell on the champagne glasses and their glittering liquid, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
Jeanette recovered quickly. "Help!" she cried, running to Wolverine's side. Craig looked at her in bewilderment as she burst into tears. "Oh thank God you're here! He was going to kill me!"
Wolverine looked at her, dumbfounded. Then he looked at Craig, who quickly dropped his glass and raised his hands.
"Hey, man, I didn't—"
"Shut up." Wolverine snapped. He retracted his claws and turned his focus back to the girl. "You too." Jeanette almost glared at him, but then remembered that she was traumatized and simply nodded meekly. Wolverine thought he was going to be sick.
"Look, I don't want to know what you two were planning. Frankly, I don't care. My job is to get you," he gestured at Jeanette, "back to your father."
Craig nodded empathetically. "I have no problem with that."
Jeanette turned a damsel-in-distress look on Wolverine. "Of course. I'm ready."
Wolverine shook his head and gestured for her to precede him out of the apartment. Wolverine rolled his eyes. He hoped Rogue was having a better night than he was.
* * *
Rogue sang along with the radio as she drove home from the bar. She felt great. Granted, she had a few more psyches pushed down into her subconscious, but that didn't matter now. She grinned as the music blared out the truck's speakers. She had done it. Sitting at the bar, talking to a man named Ken, she had laid her hand on his and stopped her powers. The connection had opened and she had slowed it down and finally stopped it. She still hadn't been able to touch someone without opening the transfer at all, but it was a start.
She pulled into Wolverine's driveway with enthusiasm. Getting out of the truck, she locked the doors and sang on her way up the stairs. She entered the house through the door in the garage. Throwing her keys on the table, she went into her room to change for bed.
As she pulled out the new nightshirt she had bought, she chuckled. Wolverine had looked like he wanted to die when she insisted that he give her his opinion. The shirt was long and pink, with a fuzzy little penguin in the middle. It was adorable and Wolverine couldn't stand it. Still, Rogue had to give him credit; he had muttered something that had sounded suspiciously like an affirmative. That couldn't have been easy considering he hadn't even wanted to go shopping in the first place. Rogue's eyes shined with humor. He'd offered though. It must have been the steak.
Rogue stripped off her clothes and slid the shirt on over her head. As she walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth, Rogue found herself wishing Wolverine was there. She wanted him to be the first to hear about her success. She sighed as she rinsed her mouth out. Then she had an idea. Instead of walking into her room, she went over to the door of Wolverine's room. After hesitating for a minute, she opened the door and walked in. Smiling at how silly she was being, Rogue climbed into Wolverine's bed. The sheets still held his scent and she felt comfortable, nestled down in the blankets.
As she lay there, Rogue found herself thinking back on her night. She was still keyed up from her small, but meaningful success. As she congratulated herself once again, Rogue finally gave up and got out of bed. Walking back out into the living room, she grabbed a beer from the fridge and the remote from the table. She was too excited to sleep.
* * *
Sabretooth's eyes combed his surroundings for a sign of the residence he knew had to be there. He had driven into Banff this morning and spent the rest of the day trying to track his elusive prey. No hotels in the city had him or that woman with him as guests, so Sabretooth had adjourned to a bar. A feral grin spread across his face. The woman had been there. After that, it was a simple matter of following her back to the cabin. She'd gotten ahead of him in her truck, but it wasn't far. With his strength and endurance, he'd followed her easily. Plus, her scent and perfume made her an easy prey.
Up ahead, Sabretooth spotted a cabin. The truck the woman had been driving was sitting in the driveway. Bounding over to the cabin, Sabretooth sniffed around. The man's scent was everywhere, the woman's scent mingling in with it along the stairway. Sabretooth followed his nose up the stairs. Careful, not to make any noise, he listened at the door. The television was on. They must be up.
Rearing back, Sabretooth hit the door hard, talons clawing down to tear off the door handle, lock and all. The wood collapsed and with a snarl, he leapt into the room.