My fingers slide through her hair. Like a spoon in soft-serve ice cream, it just flows through, like it belongs there. She is asleep, as it was a very long day. We did nothing, nothing immoral and nothing illegal. The illegal activities were yesterday- breaking onto federal grounds, assaulting government guards, exploring the area of the lake. It rose over twenty feet when Stryker's dam broke.
That is an odd statement: "when Stryker's dam broke". Everything that bastard did was to destroy and maim other life. Well, there is no way he can ever do anything else. He is very dead. She worried when I dropped down to the bottom of the lake from that helicopter we "borrowed". I was only down for fifteen minutes; there was no reason for her to panic. She did handle that helicopter well. But, Stryker is dead, very dead. Still chained to that wall. He's not going anywhere. His files were very useful; I think I almost know who I was. I wish I didn't.
"The files. Ignore the files," she said. "They talk about the past and the past is the past is the past. It only says what was. I like what is and what will be better. Besides, you look cuter when you're not worrying." I knew she read them without her even me telling so. It was the way she looked at me that morning: a little sad, hurt, and confused, all mixed with not caring. She wants me how I am, not whoever I was. I could also tell she read through them because they were in my bag, but at the top. I left them at the bottom. She's no sneak and I hope don't make her one.
First light. "Logan?" She knows I'm here, but asks it as a question anyway. I think it's a comfort thing. "Yeah, sugar?"
"Are we leaving for home today, tonight, or tomorrow?" Her eyes aren't open, but her nose smells the coffee in the thermos I'm reaching for. It's a bad habit Scott taught her while I gone. Coffee: the stable person's alcoholism. She takes it black, with two sugars.
"This has cinnamon in it."
"Yeah. I took a packet from that diner we ate at last night and stirred it with some sugar and a bit of milk. I thought you'd like it. Too bad we didn't have any nutmeg." Wow, I'm turning into Martha-freaking-Stuart. "Stop laughing, it's that funny."
"Logan, think back a year and then say what you just said. It really is that funny." She stood, stretching and arching her back. "Tonight, let's head home. I miss my bed." The tips of her fingers tickled the fir tree above, the morning dew giving her the shower she desperately wanted.
"Sure, but it's still the morning." I don't even feel it as what is part of her takes me away. All care is that she is sinking down on top of me, and that's the last thing I am seeing.
~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~
"Logan, the seat is wet. I am hungry. Where's the next rest stop? I have to use the bathroom. My back hurts. How much longer until we get home. I'm ho-"
"Marie! I get it! You want me to stop for a bit!"
"Took you long enough. There."
Scott's bike stopped in a clearing, where Rogue took the bike and walked it several feet into woods. No one passing could see it, or her.
"I don't like traveling for hours at a time. I need to lie down." From the giddy mood she was in, she fell back, letting the soft snow catch her. The green stocking cap I bought her after we entered snow country rolled off. "Almost perfect," she said, her eyelids getting heavy and closing. She must have had some of the Professor in her because she knew what I was thinking. "No one should be surprised. Jean and Scott were almost brother and sister when they came to the academy. If they have a problem, it's their problem not ours."
"You are sure smart for whiny little girl." I couldn't help myself. It went against everything I have ever lived by. "I never noticed that your eyes are every color. They're beautiful."
She smiled and grabbed, pulled my sideburns. "Flattery does not suit you, Logan."
~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~
Revenge is a must; no one pulls my sideburns. "LOGAN! Don't ever pop a wheelie on this bike with me again! I swear you will pay for that later. I-"
"We're here."
The ride up the driveway was the same, except one boy was shooting spikes into the air, aiming at another boy with wings who was catching them. Little Jubilee was tanning on the lawn with Kitty, only because another kid was heating up the early evening sky into the fourth of July at noon.
"Everything is the same," she whispered in my ear.
"Good. You relax I'll tell people."
I didn't realize it, but the on the cheek I gave her as walked inside told everyone by itself. That and Xavier scanned my mind as I opened the door and Charles is a gossip whore. Wouldn't you be with telepathy?