Disclaimer: yada yada, i do not own the x-men, i'm not gettin paid

Ok, i redid this. i made it a oneshot, but with an added ending. its not any different from the previous story except for the paragraph at the end. i promise i'll get around to writing a story with an actual plot and more than one chapter. i just didnt think i could get this one going anywhere, i hadnt planned on it actually

so, here you go.

and i forget which one of you reviewers of the old story said that i shouldt write for reviews: i am not writing for reviews, i just didnt know whether i'd carry on with this particular one or not

thank you to the rest of you reviewers for your support and great comments! much appreciated

i'll try to feed my plot bunnies more

Logan glanced up in passing: 11:30 PM. He was definitely a creature of the night himself. So were many of the older teens at Xavier's school. The youngens were sent off to bed at 9:30, but most of the students stayed up into the early hours of the morning, doing whatever kids their age did for entertainment. He could care less, as long as they stayed out of his way. Sort of a don't-poke-the-grouchy-bear kind of thing. It worked for him, he got his space.

There were a couple of the rebellious ones that would mercilessly pester him, though. Only a handful, thankfully. Rogue, obviously; that little squirt Jubilee, and Kitty just plain didn't know when to shut up, regardless of who she was talking to, or at. The young ones didn't seem as intimidated as they should be either, but he could handle them. Don't tell anyone, if Cyclops found out he'd never hear the end of it, but he had a little soft spot for the pipsqueaks.

Restless as usual, he was prowling the halls, mentally making a check for who was in bed and where everyone was. For the most part, present and accounted for. All but one. And what a shocker, who could it be but Rogue. He shook his head slightly, a small grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. He was headed for the kitchen anyways; he'd just peek his head in.

Sure enough, there she was. His gut-feelings had a habit of turning out right. He immediately noticed a couple of things: A. She was wearing her so-called "comfy clothes" which wasn't so unusual for this time of the night, baggy PJ pants with ridiculous polka dots splattered all over, nondescript hooded sweatshirt, red fuzzy socks, hair in a messy ponytail. B. She had a pint of Ben&Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream propped in front of her, half gone. Goin' for the sure chocolate fix. This could only mean one thing. He couldn't help it, he sniffed. Yup. Definitely that time of the month.

She looked up, noticing him for the first time, emerging from her chocolate binge. She had heard him sniff, and she knew that…he knew. A slight blush brushed her cheeks briefly, before a smile graced her features. Typical Rogue, unafraid of what people thought. She silently tipped the carton in his direction, eyebrows raised in offering. He shook his head no. "I think you need that more than I do," he softly drawled out, his distinctly masculine voice breaking the silence.

That cocky grin made its way onto her face again; she smirked and dug the spoon back in, scooping out a healthy glob which she shamelessly went to work on. Meandering over to the fridge, he reached to the back, behind the three billion soda bottles, pulled out a beer, and sat down next to her. Her questioning eyebrows turned his way, looking at the beer. He answered the silent question, "Guess my 'secret stash' ain't so well hidden." He took a long pull, relishing the taste as it slid down his throat.

After a moment of comfortable quiet, a thought crossed his mind. "Kinda reminds me of a certain night in Laughlin City." He glanced over and saw a slim eyebrow arched over one of her green eyes. "I think the beer's the only similarity," she replied.