Author's Note: Well, if you've gotten this far then I think it's safe to say that you like Angst stories. Out of a personal request, I recommend you skipping over to It's Up to the Others by The-Princess-06. It's her first X-men story and the author needs a little push. So, go ahead. It won't kill you. I promise. Laughs

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The rumbling hiss of his bike thundered down the wet, slick pavement as he tore through the streets of the leaf-infested back roads. Even after five estranged years, he could drive to the mansion blindfolded. He roared through the gates, coming to a dangerous, skidding stop. The smell of burnt rubber stung his nostrils, reminding him of the car chase he'd been involved in three years ago. After dismounting the bike, he marched up the cement steps. Pulling out a cigar more from habit than nervousness, he burst inside.

Everything was how he'd left it. He found a slight comfort in this trivial fact as he strolled down the sunlit hallway into Xavier's office. Slipping inside, his harsh demeanor faded into a gentle reverence. Timidly – as though afraid of disturbing the chilling peace – he ran his hand along the Professor's cherry oak desk, disbelief turning into sorrow.

He jolted his hand back as the door clicked open. He peered back, relieved to see a familiar – even if stern – face. "Scott," he greeted gruffly.

Scott approached him stiffly, his face grimly set. If it were possible to see his eyes behind his claret visors, one would've found his stare almost hostile. "I'm glad you came. Charles would want you here."

Logan cleared his throat, swallowing the embarrassing lump. "Funeral today?"

"Tomorrow."

Logan nodded, accepting the inevitable. He'd hoped the services would be today. He didn't want to spend the extra time in the mansion. It was stifling, suffocating him with a rush of memories he had blocked out in the thousands of liquor bottles and smoky taverns. "Guest rooms still open?"

"Yeah." There was a stressed pause as Scott seemingly struggled with some inner dilemma. Finally, he gave in and stated blankly: "Rogue's fine. I don't know what Charles has told you. I know you two kept in touch every couple months. But…she's fine."

Logan had secretly been curious about his wife, but hadn't wanted to probe the sensitive subject himself. "Good," he muttered around his cigar, having no clue what Scott was talking about. "She married?"

Scott looked unbelievably uncomfortable, reminding Logan of a little boy under investigation for stealing candy. Just by his reaction alone, Logan knew the dreadful answer, but Scott voiced his conviction: "Yeah."

"Who?" Logan wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but the inquisitiveness had been eating away at him for years, tormenting him with the two likely possibilities. He half hoped she had moved on, marrying someone who was faithful and adoring. Someone who cherished her the way he had only been able to dream of doing. Yet, the other half of him ostracized the idea of her with someone else. Even after all these years, he still loved her and wanted to be hers.

A woman came gliding in; her burgundy, curly hair clipped back, a few wisps falling around the curves of her pale, porcelain face. It was obvious she had come in search of Scott for her eyes had immediately fell on him with her perfect, soft lips parted as though about to speak. Yet, she'd shifted her gaze, her emerald eyes falling on the intruder and she gasped: "Oh my God."

Logan stared at her, stunned but dismayed by her beauty. Her hair was colored and styled differently, but the white streak was still evident. "Hey, Marie. How you've been, darlin'?" His term of endearment had slipped out as naturally as his swearing.

"Logan," she whispered, flooded by all the emotions she had locked away all those years ago. He didn't look a day older, but he was more worn down. The exhaustion on his face was the most obvious feature. Yet, he was still rugged and sexy, his trademark sideburns still in place. Despite herself, she felt the twinge of her old desire swirl in her stomach. And she loathed it. "I'm fine," she answered crisply, mentally distancing her self. She didn't need this. She didn't need him riding back in and slashing down the walls she'd so carefully built.

With the lack of anything else to say, Logan gestured toward her head with the butt of his cigar. "You dyed your hair."

"No," she snarled. "I didn't."

"But," his eyes flicked over to Scott and then back. "That's not your…"

"It is now. What are you doing here, Wolverine?"

For a moment, Logan forgot how to speak. The name 'Wolverine' sounded so foreign rolling off her tongue. She'd never called him that. "I heard about Xavier."

"Mmm, the funeral's tomorrow at one. Does that give you enough time?"

"Enough time for what?"

"To get laid."

Logan choked on the acid air he'd just inhaled from his cigar. He had not been expecting that. "Damn, Marie," he whizzed. He glanced at Scott who held up his hands, offering Logan to the wolves as he backed out of the room.

"Well? Is she at the motel waiting for you to fuck her brains out? I bet she likes it real fast and hard. Just how hard do you fuck her, Wolverine? Does she give you what you want? Does she…"

"Stop it," Logan hollered, slamming his iron fist on top of the desk. "Stop it, Marie! There is no woman waiting for me anywhere. I know you're still mad at me. And I deserve all the insults you have to say, but damn it, now isn't the time! A man is dead!"

"When will be the time," she shrieked, passion igniting her eyes. "You left and I never heard a thing for five fucking years! When will I get the chance to rant and rave? God damn it, you fucking cheated on me, you asshole! And then you fled like a coward!"

Chastised, Logan whispered, desperate for understanding that he knew he wouldn't get: "Marie, I…"

"Rogue," she hissed, her eyes flaming an icy blue. "My name is Rogue."

Logan narrowed his eyes, peering into hers, puzzled and worried. "Your eyes," he murmured, astounded. How had her eyes changed from jade to cerulean? "What happened to you, Marie?" What had Charles kept from him?

She barked a sour laugh, one that actually frightened him. It was so bitter…sinister almost. "Fuck you, Wolverine."

"Marie," he tried to reason. "If I…"

"Rogue," she screamed. "Don't you ever call me Marie. Ever!"

Logan was too shell-shocked to speak. He stared at her blankly, his cigar long ago forgotten, trying to comprehend the stranger before him. This fiery, blue-eyed, redhead wasn't the woman he'd left behind. "Rogue," he started, but didn't know where to go from there.

"My husband is waiting for me," she said simply (relishing when he cringed at the word 'husband'); all traces of hostility gone as her eyes faded back into their natural green. "Why don't you join us for dinner?" It was more of a demand than a polite request.

"Does he treat you good?"

"Better than you ever did," she retorted, stinging him.

"Who is he?"

"Someone who is undeniably faithful."

"Cut the shit. Who is it?"

"Scott," she said, smiling smugly before walking out.

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AnimeChick: Ok: it's not the ending. big smile

Base: Well, this story should please you then. It is definitely not a sappy-shippy-mushy-friendly story.

Cassandra: Laughs Why, chica, they don't always end tragically. Let me see…there's Cradle My Heart. That's a Shippy Rogan story where their love doesn't meet a tragic end. And there's…uh…well…mmm…Maybe I should write more stories. Haha.

Butterfingers: Aw, there, there, don't cry. Maybe they'll work through it.

The-Princess: Check up top, chica. winks

Renaissance Wench: Well, I was planning on rubbing his face in it. I'm glad we think alike. Haha.

DarkRoses: Thank you. I love details, but I agree that some authors do tend to spend an entire chapter describing what their characters look like. And I've got just under two months, so hopefully I can at least get a good start on this story (if not finish it).

Fallen-Angel: Was this what you considered a short wait or a long wait? Anyway, thanks for the compliment and for the review.

Blix: You're right. You're completely, utterly, insanely loony. As for Logan, yeah, he took the easy way out: leaving.

Crimson Lipstick: I'll go back and answer those questions of yours. Maybe I'll do a flashback scene or something. Anyway, I don't really see Logan cheating on Rogue either. He is too loyal to her. But, hey, what's more painful than your spouse having an affair?

Veronica: You're so damn right! From the beginning, I wanted to torment Logan that way. See? Great minds really do think alike. Haha.

Gimpy: Ah, my dear friend. Whenever I see your name on top of a review, I just know I'll be reading something profound. You always have such in-depth questions and inquiring line of thoughts. I appreciate them very much. Yet, you really flatter me too much by giving me credit I truly don't deserve. Anyway, his motives will slowly emerge through the wreckage. Thanks for spending time reading – once again – one of my stories. Take care.

Vegeta: Will they…or won't they? Mmm…the possibilities are endless. teasing smirk

Wapps: It's ok. It's not as though I expect you to show up for every one! Haha. Anyway, I'm glad you approve. You've kind of become one of my…uh…"regulars" so to speak, so I especially look to you guys to make sure I'm doing ok. So, thanks for the input!