Rogue gritted her teeth and rolled over in her bed. The black leather uniform the X-Men had provided for her had been very functional in battle, but it was damned uncomfortable to sleep in. As she gripped the pillow and attempted to sleep, Rogue tried to quash the nagging thought that she was being irrational. She'd been so irritated when she got back from the Mutant Control Center, she'd forgone a shower and just thrown herself into bed. Xavier had been kind enough to provide a room for her and Rogue was grateful she would not have to deal with Wolverine tonight.

Wolverine. When he had been hit by that robot, everyone had flipped out. Everyone except Rogue. She tried to tell herself that it was only because she'd known he would heal, but she wasn't entirely convinced. Something about the rush she'd felt back at the mutant control center had felt different. Rogue had always treasured control above all else. She learned early on how to file away information in her mind, keeping it clear of the inconsequential. Even in battle situations she had always been cool-headed and precise.

Tonight had been different. Her senses were still hyper-keen and the scent of blood in the hallway had driven her wild. When Wolverine had gotten hit, she had seen it through a red haze. There had been no stab of concern, no emotional reaction at all. She had never been overwhelmed like that before in her life.

Rogue mulled it over in her head. She had been just fine until her mother had hired Wolverine. That man had thrown her whole world into upheaval. All of a sudden her strict schedule of missions and training went down the drain. He'd pulled her out of her comfortable routine and taken her dancing and drinking. He got her to start meditating, taking a good look insider herself. Now all her hard won control was gone. When she needed it most it failed her and Rogue could feel her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't hold onto her control and rely on someone else at the same time. The memory of lying next to Wolverine naked body on his bed earlier came unbidden to her mind. She winced inwardly at the rejection she'd suffered as he'd ignored her suggestive tone and compared her to that monster. Sharply, she shook the image out of her head. Enough was enough. She didn't need Wolverine to be her crutch. Rogue sighed as she drifted off to sleep. She didn't need anyone.

* * *

Sabretooth blinked in confusion. Something was very different, if he could just put his talon on it. His nose twitched tentatively and suddenly his eyes widened. Bolting up in bed, he scrambled to his feet only to feel himself fall back to sit on the bed. Blinking in confusion, he realized his center of balance had shifted considerably. Looking down, his mouth dropped open as he discovered the reason for his shift in balance.

"I have tits," he said dumbly. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. After a few minutes, understanding dawned on him.

"I'm in the frail's body."

Adjusting to his new center of balance, Sabretooth stood up and walked over to the mirror above the dresser against the wall. His own feline amber eyes stared at him from a smooth pale face with waves of white streaked brown hair hanging down his back. A feral smile showed slightly elongated fangs as an idea came to Sabretooth.

He quickly scanned the room until his eyes fell on a small clock. It had a circular glass face and it took almost no effort for Sabretooth to break the delicate glass. Picking up one of the bigger shards, he drew it firmly along his arm, smiling as the delicate skin of Rogue's body closed up the superficial wound almost immediately.

Satisfied that his healing factor was still functioning in this new body, Sabretooth laughed softly.

"Not that I'll need my healing factor. You wouldn't dare attack this body."

Leaving the room, Sabretooth sniffed out Wolverine's scent. He was making his way down the hallway when another scent wafted over to him. It smelled light wind and rain. Like nature itself had formed a body of flesh and blood. Hiding in a corner, Sabretooth watched as a chocolate skinned woman with flowing white hair walked past him. Her regal presence and the graceful way she ascended a flight of stairs captured Sabretooth's attention. He waited a minute before following, careful not to make any noise. When he reached the open door to the room she had entered, Sabretooth crouched down in the hallway and watched her from the shadows. His eyes followed her every movement as she removed her clothes and laid down in her bed. The wind from an open skylight rustled the sheet as she drew it over her body. With all the patience of a predator watching its prey, Sabretooth waited for the woman to fall asleep.

As he crept closer to the bed, Sabretooth felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. The sight of the beautiful woman who had the scent of the wild all around her lying there naked and vulnerable nearly sent Sabretooth over the edge. His bloodlust roared up and in one graceful movement, he leapt lightly onto the bed, straddling Storm's sheet covered body.

Storm's eyes flew open to find Rogue on top of her, one hand clasped around her throat.

"Scream for me," Sabretooth whispered.

Storm's face remained serene and a milky white light flowed over her eyes as she summoned her weather wielding powers. A thick bolt of lightening split the sky and flashed through Storm's open window, striking Rogue's back.

Rogue's body twitched, a gurgle bubbling in her throat. As her body went limp, her grip on Storm's throat went slack. Storm sat up and Rogue's body slid to the floor.

For a moment, Storm remained in her bed, her sheets drawn up to cover her chest. She waited cautiously for any signs of another attack.

"Rogue," she said softly.

Rogue's eyelids fluttered open. Looking up into Storm's concerned face, she blinked her eyes in confusion.

"Ororo?" She looked around at her surroundings. "Where am Ah?"

"You're in my room in the attic at Xavier's Institute."

Storm rose up off her bed carefully, wrapping her sheet around her body.

"Rogue, may I look at your back please?"

Rogue looked at her like she was crazy, but she sat up and turned to let Storm examine her back. The weather witch ran one hand lightly over the flawless skin of Rogue's back. There was a hole scorched in her uniform where the lightning had struck her, but her flesh was unmarred.

"Your back has already healed," she observed. Her calm voice smoothly hid her surprise. "Have you absorbed Wolverine lately, Rogue?"

Rogue's skin began to crawl.

"No. What do you mean, mah back is 'healed'?"

"Rogue, why are you in my room?" Storm asked steadily.

A bad feeling began to creep over Rogue. Again, she looked around at her surroundings, hoping for a clue. The last thing she remembered was going to sleep in her own bed. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had no idea how she'd gotten into Storm's room, let alone why. The icy grip of fear clutched at her stomach as an unpleasant thought came to Rogue's mind.

"You hurt me," she stated, turning back to Storm. A part of her hoped that she was wrong and Storm would deny it.

"Rogue, I did not want to hurt you. You must realize how unsettling it is to wake up with someone's hand around your throat. I was only protecting myself."

Rogue's heart sank and she felt sick. Hazy images, as if from a dream, began to float back into her memory. Images of looming above Storm with one hand around the other woman's throat drifted through her mind's eye. A breeze wafted through the room and Rogue realized her uniform had been damaged as the air caressed her back. Storm had to have hit her with lightening to burn a hole in her uniform. And she was already healed.

Rogue scrambled to her feet and moved for the door.

"Rogue, wait. Please, talk to me," Storm called after her.

Rogue spun around. "Ah'm sorry, Ororo. Ah must have had a nightmare and started sleepwalking. Ah'll just go back to bed."

With that, Rogue turned and dashed out the door.

Behind her Storm shook her head in concern and went over to close her door. As she slid the lock into place, she made a mental note to talk with Professor Xavier in the morning.

* * *

Rogue tried to remain calm as she made her way down the stairs from Storm's attic room.

"Sleepwalking," she muttered nervously to herself. "Ah've never sleepwalked in mah life."

She tried taking deep breaths to ease the flow of adrenaline that was surging through her system. Her legs were moving faster and faster, carrying her in the direction of Wolverine's room. Her eyes fixed on the spot directly in front of her and she tried to shut all other thought out of her mind. Desperately she reached into her reserves for the control she'd always believed she had, but still the hazy images taunted her.

*Scream for me.*

A burst of panic hit Rogue and she broke into a run. The voice had been hers, but they weren't her words. She was remembering something her body had done, but her mind screamed that it wasn't her. A cold sweat broke out over her skin as she spotted the door to Wolverine's room. Relief seemed within reach. Wolverine would help her. He would tell her that she was still the Rogue she had always been. He would chase the shadows away.

Jerking the door open, Rogue nearly collapsed in the room. The unmade bed and silence in the air mocked her premature sense of safety. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and her throat constricted in disappointment as she surveyed the empty room. She could feel Sabretooth's presence all around her, and suddenly she was very very afraid. She couldn't run from it anymore.

"He's still inside me," she whispered.

* * *

A cloud of smoke hung over the noisy crowd in the bar as Wolverine downed another beer. The bartender didn't even have to be asked to set a new one in front of him. This had been going on for hours with Wolverine trying to stay one step ahead of his healing factor. His eyes shifted to survey the room once again, part of him looking for something he knew wasn't there.

"Ridiculous," he sighed to himself. He turned back to his fresh beer and took a swallow. "Should be enjoyin' myself, playin' some pool. Not sittin' here worryin' about some woman." His mind replayed the anger and hurt he'd seen in Rogue's eyes in his room and he shoved the memory back down. "Stupid. Shoulda kept my mouth shut." He snorted. "Hell, should never have gotten involved in the first place. Pokin' my nose around where it don't belong, no wonder I got myself in so much trouble."

The people around Wolverine heard him talking to himself, but paid him no mind. He didn't look like the type of crazy person they wanted to mess with. Wolverine's head lowered slightly as the alcohol buzzed through his system.

"She don't need me anyway. Sabretooth ain't gonna bother her no more, an Xavier's a professional. Let him handle her." He nodded unsteadily. "S'right. I'm just gonna leave. First thing tomorrow."

"Hey," came a feminine voice from beside him.

Wolverine tore his concentration away from his beer and gave a sidelong glance beside him. A woman was smiling at him. She was an attractive brunette, with a suggestive outfit and an even more suggestive smile. Wolverine considered her for several seconds before turning his body to face her.

"You're not her," he mumbled. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but his healing factor was working to fix it. If he stopped drinking now, he'd be sober soon.

The brunette's smile didn't waver. "No I'm not, but I'm here." She stepped closer to Wolverine and her perfume wafted up to his nose. It tickled slightly but it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

"So you are," he agreed.

The woman put her hand on his thigh. "So, I'm here. And you're here . . ."

Wolverine grinned. "Nothing wrong with your logic so far."

Her hand began to move towards his crotch. Now Wolverine could smell the alcohol on her. She must be a hard drinker to seem so steady after obviously having quite a few.

"Why don't you come back to my place?" She suggested. "I guarantee you a time you won't forget."

Wolverine's gaze was drawn to her mouth. Her lipstick was a little too dark, and it stood out starkly against her pale complexion. She smiled seductively and drew her tongue along her lip. Wolverine jerked suddenly as if he'd been slapped. Suddenly, he was looking down at Rogue as her mouth—

"Shit," Wolverine swore vehemently. He pushed the woman away and got off his barstool. Leaving his beer and the woman, he ignored her indignant cries as he left the bar.

"You're haunting me," he growled to an imaginary Rogue. Stalking over to his bike, he swung himself onto it. Slightly unsteady, he sped back towards the mansion.

* * *

"Okay girl, you can do this," Rogue murmured to herself. She dried herself off as best she could and then wrapped the bath towel around her body. She'd taken a hot shower in Wolverine's bathroom while she waited for him and now she was standing in front of the foggy mirror. After all the thinking she'd done in the shower she knew she had to face what had happened to her.

"He may be in mah head, but Ah'm still me," she said firmly as she wiped the fog off the mirror. Her efforts revealed a small clear expanse of the polished surface and Rogue screamed as deep amber eyes with black feline slits in the centers stared back at her. Her mind flashed back to the last time she had seen those eyes, and her legs buckled under her.

"What's happened to me," she gasped, trying to draw in deep breaths. Suddenly an image of Sabretooth loomed up in her mind. As all the pieces of the puzzle abruptly came crashing down around Rogue, the enhanced senses she'd tried to ignore flared up. Rogue could detect Wolverine's scent under the smell of soap, faint as it was from his short time in the room. Gritting her teeth, she stood up and forced her gaze to her reflection in the mirror. Sabretooth's eyes stared back at her once again, but this time Rogue didn't flinch.

Suddenly Rogue's supper sensitive hearing picked up the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Clutching her towel to her body. She turned off the lights and, relying on her newfound cat-like vision, walked out of the bathroom and approached the door to Wolverine's room.

* * *

Wolverine's nose twitched as he approached the door to his room. The information tickled his mind, but the alcohol provided a layer of cotton it couldn't penetrate. Stumbling to the door, Wolverine jerked it open.

The next few seconds were a blur. Wolverine was startled to see a reflective pair of amber feline eyes watching him from the darkness of the room. The alcohol clouded his rational thought and his instincts took over. There was the hiss of metal and a sickening sound of flesh being torn open.

Wolverine's brain froze as he found himself staring at his claws embedded in Rogue's belly. Warm sticky blood oozed out of her body between his fingers. In horror, his claws retracted. Blood gurgled slightly in Rogue's throat as her healing factor closed her wounds. In seconds she was healed and she glared at Wolverine. Before he could open his mouth, her open palm shot out, connecting with his chest. She caught him by surprise and the force of the motion sent Wolverine flying across the hallway into the wall. As Wolverine sat there, stunned, the last traces of alcohol were obliterated from his system. He leveled an accusing glare at Rogue as he got to his feet. She'd turned on the light and a soft glow radiated around her.

"You HIT me!" he growled, stalking towards her.

Rogue stepped back to all him entrance into the room, but continued glaring at him.

"You stabbed me," she shot back. "How are we gonna explain this blood all over the floor to the Professor?"

Wolverine stepped inside and slammed the door behind him.

"Well, what are you doing in my room anyway?" he demanded.

"Why the Hell weren't *you* in your room?" Rogue snapped.

Wolverine started to say he'd needed to get drunk, but stopped himself.

"How is that any of your business?" He roared, exasperated.

"Because you weren't here when Ah needed you!" Rogue screamed back.

A deafening silence fell over both of them. Wolverine stared at her dumbfounded. Rogue's gaze dropped to the floor and she fidgeted with her towel. All of a sudden she felt incredibly vulnerable. She didn't know where that last comment had come from, but she knew it was true. She may have been self-reliant when she was with the Brotherhood, but now she was used to having someone around. She was used to having Wolverine around. For the first time since she'd left the Brotherhood he hadn't been there when she looked for him and it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. She could only imagine what Wolverine was thinking. When Wolverine finally spoke up Rogue felt her shoulders tense in anticipation.

"You need me?" he asked quietly.

Rogue continued to stare at the floor when she answered.

"Ah don't like it, Wolverine. Ah don't like not bein' able to handle this on mah own, havin' to ask for help." She took a deep breath. "It's not right, and it's not how Ah was raised."

Wolverine felt his chest constrict and had to fight the urge to move closer to her. She looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Wolverine knew this wasn't easy for her. He could relate, he wasn't really a heart-to-heart talker either. For a while he just stood there mulling everything over. Then he had an idea.

"Mystique asked for help when she needed it," he pointed out.

Rogue quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"Mama never thought she needed help."

"Then why did she hire me? Why didn't she just do the job herself?" Wolverine countered.

"She could have," Rogue insisted. "But that would have taken months to gather the information we would have needed. Plus, extra surveillance. You had experience that would make it more efficient, Mama hired you to save time."

"So why is it different if you ask me for help? It's not that you're saying you can't do it yourself—you're just being practical."

Rogue narrowed her eyes and thought it over.

"Would you ever ask for mah help?" she challenged him.

Wolverine shrugged honestly.

"If you would have asked me a month ago if I would have danced to "Hungry Eyes" at a bar with a woman I was hired to work with, I'd have called you insane. Lately, it's anybody's guess what I'll do where you're concerned," he sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Rogue smiled in surprise.

"That's really sweet, Wolvie."

"And *God* knows you would never have gotten away with calling me that a month ago," Wolverine muttered.

Rogue laughed.

"All right, so you've given me something to think about."

Wolverine nodded, relieved at the subject change. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for a precarious situation aptly handled.

"So where were you tonight?" Rogue asked, her nose twitching slightly.

Wolverine shrugged. It was nice while it lasted.

"Out."

Rogue's nose twitched again.

"That's a lovely fragrance you're wearing."

Wolverine felt his heart beat a little faster, then swore as he realized she could probably hear it. He missed the days when he was the only one with enhanced senses.

"I didn't – I don't – shouldn't you be going to sleep now?" he sputtered.

Rogue considered telling him she knew he hadn't had sex because the woman's perfume was all she could smell, but she let it go. He was cute when he squirmed.

"Ah can't go to sleep yet. Ah have to ask the Professor to lock me up first."

"What?" Wolverine asked, dumbfounded.

Rogue sighed.

"You're right, Wolvie. Ah can be stubborn and try to deal with everything on mah own, or Ah can ask for help. It's about time Ah let the Professor help me deal with what happened. She took a deep breath. "Hell, maybe Ah waited too long already. Ah think Sabretooth took over and attacked Storm tonight when Ah fell asleep."

"You think?" Wolverine asked, dubiously. Hs mind raced to catch up with all of this new information.

"Ah remember it like a dream, just hazy bits and pieces. Enough to know Ah should be locked up when Ah'm sleeping."

Wolverine didn't like the idea of Rogue being locked up for any reason. He had a personal aversion to imprisonment and the fact that it was voluntary didn't make him feel any better. Still, he could see how hard she was trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Why don't you just sleep with me?" When the words hit his ears he realized how suggestive they sounded, but he plunged on. "If anything happens I'll be here for you."

Rogue thought about it. Her eyes looked from Wolverine to the floor and Wolverine wondered what she was thinking.

"What are you thinking?" he demanded.

"Ah'm thinking it's not fair. Ah'm finally at a point where Ah'm ready to relax and now you're asking me to sleep with you and Ah'm gonna have to rein in mah control all over again."

"You afraid you'll attack me? Don't worry—"

"Ah'm not worried about attacking you. At least, not in an Ah'm-gonna-hurt-you way."

"What way— oh."

Understanding dawned on Wolverine's face and Rogue nodded.

"Yeah. Earlier when Ah was around you and mah senses flared up Ah had some . . . urges. However, since you've made it clear that Ah remind you of Sabretooth . . ."

Wolverine mentally kicked himself.

"Rogue, about that. I didn't mean it like it sounded. I just wasn't sure you knew what you were doing."

Rogue leveled her gaze at him and Wolverine decided death was his only way out.

"You're right, Wolvie. Ah don't know what Ah'm doing. How kind of you not to take advantage of me. From now on, I'll just pretend you're mah brother." She paused for a moment. "No, wait. Mah brother is blue. You'll be like a father to me."

She turned around and walked over to his dresser. Wolverine watched her warily, but didn't trust himself to speak. She pulled out one of his larger flannels and laid it on top of the dresser. A sense of deja vu came over Wolverine as he watched her drop her towel before slipping on the flannel. That brief glimpse of naked naughty bits made his blood rush south, and Wolverine hoped she hadn't gotten so used to her senses that she knew how his body was reacting.

Flouncing over to the bed, she slipped under the covers and yawned.

"Turn out the light before you come to bed won't you, Wolvie?"

Wolverine narrowed his eyes. Two could play at this game. He went into the bathroom and washed Rogue's blood off his hands. Then, turning off the lights, he walked over to the bed and stripped. He generally slept naked, he told himself, so he wasn't really doing anything wrong. Besides, he was beginning to suspect Rogue was being a tease on purpose and that meant she was fair game. He slid into the bed beside Rogue, but instead of the surprised reaction he'd expected he heard her speak.

"Wolverine?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Ah'm still me, right?"

Her voice sounded tiny and Wolverine frowned as he rolled over to face her. She was lying on the other side of the bed, huddled under the blanket.

"Of course you're still you. Who the hell else would you be?"

Her voice was slightly muffled by the blanket when she answered.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about mah eyes?"

Wolverine winced. It had never occurred to him to mention it to her.

"Sorry."

Rogue didn't say anything for a minute. Wolverine tugged a sheet up between them and then reached over to her, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest. He held her there for a while.

"I know you're still you, Rogue. You still smell like you and my nose doesn't lie."

He could feel her smile.

"Thanks, Wolvie." After a moment she added, "I like it when you do this."

"Do what?" he asked curiously.

"Hold me. You haven't held me since Mama shot me."

Wolverine's hold tightened slightly.

"That's not true," he said quietly. He remembered finding her in the woods, naked and shivering, not from cold but from fright. He'd carried her back to the cabin and he'd held her that night. He'd been terrified and he wondered now if he'd held her to comfort her or himself.

"You saved me, Wolvie. How many times am Ah gonna have an opportunity to say that?"

"I didn't save your life. You would have made it."

"Ah didn't say you saved mah life. You saved me. Who knows how long Ah would have stayed inside mahself if you hadn't coaxed me out." She snuggled back against him and he smiled slightly. He squeezed her gently, comfortingly.

"Wolverine?"

"Yeah?"

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?" he said softly.

"Why take an interest in me? Ah was just another partner when you met me and Ah know Ah'm just another woman. Why are you still with me?"

Wolverine sighed and shrugged.

"I knew what you were doing wrong and I pointed it out. You were pushing yourself too much, it was going to start affecting your performance," he said simply.

"So what do you care? Why did it matter to you what mah future performance was, you were only supposed to work with me once."

"Yeah, but you had the potential to be good."

"As good as you?" she teased.

Wolverine chuckled.

"I'm the best there is at what I do."

"Ah'd like to test that theory someday," Rogue said softly.

There was a hint of something in her voice, but Wolverine couldn't place it. He could feel her breathing begin to even out.

"I'm sure you will," Wolverine whispered. Both of them could hear the promise in his tone.