Star-of-Chaos: Since you signed your review Chaos, then that's what I'll call you from now on. Abbreviating names makes things so much easier for me. Anyway, yeah, Stryker's a bastard. Lol.
Blix: Well I guess people will have to pay up. He will be paying for it later. evil smirk
Chapter Five
The Outsiders
Cheeks burning, Marie reluctantly allowed Logan to scoop her up into his muscular arms and carry her trembling body into one of the dens where he gently laid her onto a beige leather loveseat. Kneeling, he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face, peering down at her with unhidden concern. "Are you all right, kid?"
"Marie," she insisted, mumbling. "My name's Marie." She sniffed, grimacing at the bitter, gritty taste in her mouth that filtered down her throat. She couldn't believe she'd thrown up – spewing all over the floor…and down Logan's pants. She winced at his stained jeans, feeling utterly embarrassed. "I'm sorry…about your jeans, I mean. And…well…about throwing up at all. I haven't gotten sick since I was a little kid."
He waved her off. "I don't appreciate the smell, but it's ok. You'll just have to buy me a new pair." He grinned, the gesture softening his stiff features.
Marie smiled thinly in return, staring at his mouth, amazed that a face of stone could melt into something so charming and lustful.
"Is she all right?"
Marie's eyes whipped away from Logan's sensual lips and towards the doorway. A tall, African American woman stood poised, her white hair contrasting with her dark skin; and, yet, complimenting her features elegantly.
Logan's grin instantly disappeared, the moment lost in a sea of Marie's fondest memories. "Yeah, she'll be fine. Is someone cleaning up the mess?"
"Yes." The woman ambled closer, her warm, brown eyes laced with concern. "My name's Ororo Munroe. You can call me Storm."
Marie immediately liked the other woman. At least being near Logan wasn't making her trip over her tongue. "I'm Rogue."
Storm smiled. "I know. I'm glad you're all right." She looked to Logan, a wall flying up and shielding her emotions. "The professor wants to speak with you."
"I know," he replied, his eyes rolling skyward, indicating his head. "I got the message."
Storm nodded and then silently left, floating away like a soft breeze.
Marie swung her legs off the cushion, planting them firmly on the hardwood floor. "Thanks, but I'm fine now. It's not like you're my babysitter or that you owe me anything," she said, casually tossing his earlier words back into his face.
Logan growled, standing up sternly. "Damn straight, Marie." He marched from the room.
Marie rose up off the sofa and jolted when Wolverine came bursting back into the room. His usual angry scowl was painted on his face. "He wants to see you, too."
"How'd you…"
Logan snorted. "You'll see. Let's go." He marched from the room, not waiting for her to catch up.
"Man, do you have PMS or what," Marie mumbled, trudging after him.
"You want me to kick your ass," Logan barked back at her.
Marie paused, calling out to him: "How'd you…right. I forgot." She sped-walked, struggling to catch up with him. "Stryker told me you had sensitive hearing and a keen sense of smell. Not to mention your impressive ability to heal yourself. It's a shame really. I was hoping to murder you in your sleep."
Logan chuckled despite himself. This woman was seeking a death warrant by constantly berating and provoking him, dancing on his nerves waiting bravely for his itching finger to pull the trigger. She had guts. Strangely – and irritatingly – he found that arousing. "Not if I get to you first," he replied gruffly.
Marie released a puff of air that swayed the hairs around her face. "I don't doubt it. You're holding me accountable for a crime I didn't know I was committing. In case you've forgotten, I believed you were a heartless killer with fatal claws that you all-too-happily used to slice people to death."
Logan clenched his teeth, all traces of his friendlier side vanishing under a mask of ice. Marie swallowed, her fears tingling at the base of her skull. He frightened her when he looked that way. It was times like these that she doubted her choice to run away with him.
Logan rushed into a room, not bothering to hold the door open for her. Marie, scowling, trailed in behind him. It was obvious he hadn't grown up in the South.
"Hello, Marie. Or do you prefer Rogue?"
A gentle older man sat behind a large mahogany desk, the lights reflecting off his baldhead. Marie squinted suspiciously. "It's Rogue. You must be Charles Xavier," she sneered.
He nodded mutely, his eyes a sea of sadness and regrets. "My condolences to you. I am terribly sorry about Bobby. He truly was one of my finest students and a wonderful leader and example to…"
"Shut up. Just shut up. I know you didn't mean for him to die, but he did. And it was because you sent him to a "conference"." Marie crossed her arms firmly across her chest, peeved at everything: even the ballpoint pen laying on the edge of the desk, threatening to fall. "How could you do it? Send him on some bullshit errand four days before his – our – wedding? I sure hope his death was worth it to you."
"Rogue, you are a brilliant young woman. I am sure by now you have figured out that it was not a conference or a simple errand." Xavier sighed, glancing to Logan. "Logan has told you how he died, but not the reason for it. This school…it is a place of learning, but also a place of accepting who you are. Most of my students go on to achieve recognition in their chosen careers. However, a select few remain here to teach…and to fight."
"Fight? Fight what?"
"Men like Stryker. Other mutants who wish to disrupt our society: mutants like the Brotherhood. We here are a small group of talented and strong men and women who want to live peacefully with humans and mutants alike."
The double doors swung open and a handful of people stepped into the room, most of whom Marie had already met.
"Rogue, I believe you have met Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops. Jean Summers is the woman who lent you her clothes."
Marie raised her eyebrows. If the two were married, then what was with the thick dosage of flirting she'd witnessed earlier between Jean and Logan?
Xavier went on. "You have also met Ororo Monroe. Or, Storm, as she is called." He wheeled closer. "And these are…"
A tall man in a trench coat gave an exaggerated bow. "Gambit's pleased to meet you, ma chere." He grinned mischievously at her and his red eyes took her back. She found them strangely beautiful.
A large blue creature standing behind Gambit nodded at her. "I am Doctor Hank "Beast" McCoy. You may call me whatever you wish."
Marie scanned the six faces before her before turning to the seventh – Xavier. "So what was Bobby called?"
"Iceman," Logan answered for the professor. "Though some of us preferred Ice Cube or Snowflake."
Marie glared at him, not amused. "You mean you preferred to call him that." She looked back to the fatherly man in the wheelchair. "So what are you people? Some sort of a private army or something?"
Xavier grinned a small, proud grin. "We are the outsiders in a world of hate. Most know us as the X-men."
Marie gasped, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. "Bobby was an X-man? Holy shit." She lowered herself onto one of the couches, shaking her head in disbelief. "Not that it should surprise me considering everything else I've seen and learned here, but…wow. Why didn't he ever tell me?"
"He felt it was best," Jean answered gently. "He didn't want to mix this life with the one he had with you. We didn't even know much about you until a couple weeks before your wedding date."
Marie bit her lip, fighting back her tears. "This is…God, what am I supposed to do now?"
"You can stay with us," Xavier offered kindly.
"You mean become one of you? An X-man?"
"Only if that's what you want."
Marie shook her head. "I don't know."
"Come on, chere," Gambit urged. "We need a another pretty face around here."
Marie looked to Logan, hunting for a clue as to where he stood in the conflicting choice. Did he want her to stay? Probably not. He'd hated her since…God, probably since he'd heard about her. With that thought in mind, she answered: "I'll stay."
End Chapter Five
