Chapter Two
Between Friends
Part One
Half way through the ride, Rogue relaxed, pressing her body into his back and inhaling the aroma of leather, cigar smoke, aftershave, and his own masculine scent. Though he sped through the city, whipping around corners and hugging the curves, she felt safe cuddled against him. He would never place her in danger.
They came to an abrupt halt outside an all-night truck-stop diner on the outskirts of town; and Logan jumped off, turning to lend her a hand. They entered the quaint restaurant, Rogue trailing closely behind him. A few rowdy men at the bar leered at her as she walked by and she suddenly felt conscience of her tight jeans and low-cut T-shirt. She was also very aware of her scarf and gloves. What were they thinking about the extra items of clothing? It really was too warm for the protective layers, but she refused to go without them.
Logan picked a corner booth, away from the small crowd and sent a scathing glare toward the men. He'd sensed Rogue tense behind him as they went by and he could easily guess why. Some of these men hadn't been with a woman in months and Rogue was young and an attractive enough girl.
The waitress swayed over, her hair dyed an outrageous red and her eye make-up a bit strong, but an overall pretty middle-aged woman. "What can I get you?"
Logan was impressed with her proper English. Typically at these joints you would hear: 'What can I getcha.' "I'll have your special and a beer."
"Your Soup of the Day and an Iced Tea, please," Rogue added, admiring the woman's tiny diamond nose ring. Maybe I should get one. She paused a moment. No way. Why'd I even consider?
After the waitress left and returned with their meals, Logan took the initiative and cautiously questioned: "So what's on your mind, kid?" He sawed into his medium-rare steak.
She dipped her spoon into the vegetable and cheddar soup, twirling the utensil around. "I want more," she confessed quietly, tapping her spoon lightly against the bottom of the bowl.
"You've got to eat what you've got first," Logan said, taking a bite of his juicy meat. It was hot, burning his tongue, but he disregarded it knowing it would heal itself within seconds.
"No," Rogue sighed, leaning back and peering at the blue tiled table top before up at him somberly. "I mean out of life." She tried to gauge his reaction, but he remained passive. "I mean, I love the X-men, the school, the professor, Bobby, you," she said somewhat shyly. "But none of it is enough. I want more."
Logan quit eating, eyeing her with unhidden concern. "What exactly are you trying to say, Marie?"
"I…I want a family, Logan."
"The X-men can be your family, Rogue. I thought it already was."
"No. I mean a family of my own. I don't mean right away, but someday I would like…I want to have children." Tears welled up in her eyes and she stubbornly bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from crying. "But I don't have that option. I can't have children, Logan. Do you know what it's like to not have the choice? Maybe I wouldn't want kids that badly if I were free to have them, but since the choice isn't mine: it makes me notice the emptiness more."
"Damn, kid, I don't know what to say." He glanced around them then, stood up, dropping a handful of bills on the table. "Why don't we go discuss this else where? If you're really hungry, we can go through a drive-thru."
"I'm not." Rogue got up, hugging herself and allowed Logan to escort her out of the diner.
Part Two
He took her to a secluded section of the mansion grounds, beyond the far edge of the garden. They sat on the grass, against a vast oak tree. Rogue played with a blade of grass while Logan smoked his cigar. "Have you ever thought about it," she finally asked, tying the piece of grass into a knot. "You know, having a family?"
"No," he lied. In truth, he had thought about it. Or more, wondered if he had one out there: a wife and/or children who presumed him dead years ago. He had been missing from his previous life for nearly eighteen years now and there was no way to judge his age. He had the body of a thirty-five year-old man, but what if he had been thirty-five when he was experimented on? He could have easily had teenaged children. Yet, he didn't dwell on it. It would only drive him crazy.
Rogue sighed, tossing the blade of grass and plucking another one. "I don't know. It seems weird to even want it. I'm a mutant fighting against bad guys – mainly bad mutants like Magneto. I have deadly skin. I live in a mansion filled with other mutants with bizarre powers. I've been kidnapped by a power-thirsty mutant and used as his outlet to transform normal humans into mutants. And the list goes on and on. And yet, I want something as normal as children in my unordinary life. Maybe it's foolish to even dream of the possibility. I can't possibly raise children as my life is."
"There's nothing foolish about wanting something, Rogue." Logan sucked on his cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke that danced in the air. "And you're right: you don't have anything close to a normal or stable life, but that doesn't mean you can't someday have children. Who says mutants can't have kids?"
"I can't, Logan." She lifted up her covered arms, shoving them into his line of vision. "Look at me, Logan. I can't even touch someone without draining the life out of them! How could I ever have a baby? I couldn't give birth. I couldn't breast freed. I couldn't have skin-to-skin contact with my own child!"
I'm not cut out for this. "Maybe someday you'll find a way to control your power."
"And then what? I can't just get pregnant."
He shrugged, taking another long drag of his cigar. "Technically you could." He gazed at her sympathetically. "Who knows? You and Bobby could get married and have a couple of kids."
"Bobby doesn't want kids," she snapped angrily – not at Logan, but at the unfairness of it all. She drew her knees up, hugging them to her chest. "I don't know why I bother with my useless fantasies," she mused, growing sullen. "I'll never be able to control my poisonous skin and I'll never have children. It's stupid to want them anyway. I'm a X-man. I've got more important things to do."
Logan reached out, caressing her cheek with the back of his bare hand: demonstrating to her that he didn't fear her skin. "Don't say that, Marie." He felt the pull of her power and he withdrew until the dizziness went away before stroking her skin again. "There's no one saying a X-man can't take a year off to have a baby. And it's not stupid if it's something you truly want. And maybe you do have more important things to do, but that doesn't mean you can't do both."
A moment of tense silence ensued. "Just forget it, Logan. Thank you for letting me get it off my chest, but let's forget the whole thing. I'll never experience certain things in my life and I just have to get used to it is all."
"What else is it that you want?"
She looked uncomfortably away, her cheeks staining crimson. "You know…things."
He nodded his understanding, stubbing out the remainder of his cigar. "You never know, kid. It could happen."
"I wouldn't want it to be with just anyone."
"Bobby?"
She pursed her lips in serious consideration. "No. Our relationship wouldn't last if…you know…we were able; because that would mean I could have a baby and I may decide to have one. He doesn't agree to that. So, I would have to find someone else." She ducked her head. "This is embarrassing. Could we go inside now?"
Hell yeah! "Sure."
"Thanks, Logan. I feel better now. Honest."
He nodded grimly, shrugging it off. "Anytime, kid."
End Chapter Two
Come on now…press the purple 'Go' button. I don't mind. Honest. And if you NEED to send flames then, at least be somewhat nice about it. This IS my first X-men attempt.
Substantivo: Hey, you were quick with your response. Thank you!