Pack Challenge

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Two

Rogue sauntered into the dive situated in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada, one month to the day from when she ran into who she now knows as Victor Creed and Logan Howlett aka Sabertooth and Wolverine. Two of the toughest mutants ever born according to Dr. McCoy and two of the meanest according to Scott. Which did nothing but tickle her curiosity, prompting to do a little more digging in between jobs for the Professor.

She found out a few interesting things. Like that they're half-brothers and no one quite knows how old they are. Or that together they co-own a multimillion dollar financial business out of New York City called Creed Enterprises. That they've refused offers to work for and/or with both the Professor and Magneto as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. and the U.S. government, proud Canadians to the core, made her laugh when she found that tidbit out from the uber-spy himself Professor Xavier.

But where she really hit pay-dirt was in the files she stole from Major Jeremy Stryker when she busted herself as well as Scott and the Professor out of the Major's little house-of-horrors underneath the Rockie Mountains. Rogue being the only mutant besides Gambit that Jason Stryker's mind-manipulation and illusions doesn't work on. No one can hack her head. No one. Not even the Professor.

As it turned out the brothers who looked all of their mid-thirties are at least in their eighties, having been recruited by the Major's uncle, the late Colonel William Stryker, to be operatives for the secret military initiative Team X. Logan was later classified as "Project X" and had adamantium grafted into his entire skeleton, a procedure he survived only because he has uncharted regenerative powers. Which explained his aging extremely well. The only other notation about either brother was noting that "Project X" had gone AWOL and had yet to be recovered.

The Major theorized that Creed and Project X teamed up to tear apart Three Mile Island and kill his uncle.

Having met the brothers, Rogue thought that theory had a great deal of merit. They were as dangerous as anyone she's ever met.

Although why that turns her on instead of sending her running in the other direction, she has no fucking clue.

She should be a thousand miles away from Yellowknife instead of walking into this bar.

Maybe if fate is kind to her, the brothers won't be here. She'll just get her fight over and take off, no harm no foul.

Fuck.

She's no Remy LeBeau, she's never had that kinda luck.

Because if she's not mistaken…that is Sabertooth himself playin' King of the Cage. Which meant…

"Hey darlin'." A smoky voice whispered next to her ear.

oOoOoOo

Logan couldn't believe it when he saw the lush figure of Rogue saunter in through the doors of the bar. Him and Victor have been comin' and sittin' and fightin' in here for the last three weeks, hoping that she would walk that sexy ass of hers on in and take them up on their invitation. They were almost ready to give up on it and head to Westchester to see Wheels when there she was, lookin' lean and mean, likely fresh off-a assignment.

They had made the most of the weeks since meeting her though. Turned out that if you knew which people to ask, there was quite a bit of information about the Rogue floating around. A lotta it was repeated over and over. She was infamous but still relatively unknown.

A runaway, kidnapped by Porn-Star Smurf for Mags for use in the Liberty Island Incident, something they heard about all the way up in bumfuck Canada. Blasted outta Mag's machine by Ol' One Eye which is how she wound up with the striped hair and the scars. Went to work for Wheels as an X-Man with her "poison" skin.

She seemed to touch Vic easily enough without him dyin'.

Got kidnapped again this time by Stryker's asshole nephew. Managed to rescue herself as well as Wheels and One Eye which just solidified her rep as someone with which not-to-fuck.

And there hasn't been much noise about her since. She pops up every now and again in skirmishes between the Brotherhood and the X-Men but what she does the rest of the time, or where she came from before Mags got his hands on her, no one seemed know. Except for when she drained Ms. Marvel dry during one-a Mag's attacks on the X-Mansion, she's gotten good at stayin' the hell outta the major battles.

No one seemed to really know much of anything about her.

Something he could appreciate and only makes him wanna peel back her layers until he can find out what makes her tick. God knows the mystery surrounding her tickles at that feline-curiosity of Victor's.

Moving up behind her as she paused just inside the door, head cocked to one side and her wild mane of striped hair falling over her shoulder as she studied Vic as he pummeled his latest victim, Logan leaned in close to her, his mouth nearly touching her ear.

"Hey darlin'," he said, teasing her hair with his breath. "I was startin' to think we scared you off."

oOoOoOo

Turning she found him too close for her peace of mind, placing one palm on his flannel-covered chest to keep him from invading her space anymore. Nothing she's heard about either brother suggested they respected things like personal space. In fact that wild look in Wolverine's gold-flecked hazel eyes said that he wanted nothing more than to, ah, violate her personal space over and over again until they're both exhausted puddles of sweaty, satiated flesh.

"I don't scare that easy." She said with a sassy smirk, taking in the long legs and sculpted chest under the flannel and denim. "I was just otherwise occupied for a while."

"Hmm," Logan smirked seeing her eyes running up and down his body. She was a little more ragged around the edges than the last time, probably headed here straight from getting debriefed. Her hair was wind tossed and wild while she'd covered that prime body of hers in a brown leather bomber jacket over a bright green top that cupped a pair of lush breasts – bigger than he'd thought after seein' 'em all taped down last time, more'n a handful for sure – and sleek brown leather motorcycle pants and boots that showed off every lovely curve of her ass and legs.

Yeah, she was one hundred percent prime all right.

And she was here for him and Vic.

"Buy ya a drink darlin'?" He asked when he spotted Vic gettin' ready to finish of the idiot in the ring with him. Who, besides Logan himself, sees a man like Vic in a ring and gets in there with him? Willingly at that. Pure stupidity.

Gaining her assent, Logan wrapped one arm around her shoulder, ignoring the pack she had slung around herself, and escorted her over to the table in a dark corner of the room that gave them an excellent view while keeping them mostly out of sight. Rogue took the pissy look from the waitress who took Logan's order for another round of drinks plus her beer in stride. Everything she's read and heard about the brothers pointed to them being a pair of manwhores.

The only problem she sees is that she's no one's casual hook-up or one night stand. She came to sate her curiosity about them, not turn into another notch on their collective bedposts. Seeing the heated look in Logan's eyes, eyes that are turning more golden by the minute, she gave a little shiver. For the first time in dealing with a man, any man, she felt out of her depths.

Catching the look on Victor's face as he walked over to them with his shirt slung over one shoulder and wiping blood off of his knuckles she corrected herself.

What she felt like was prey.

A lonely little fawn cut away from its Mama by a pair of apex alpha males.

Rogue restrained the urge to shiver once more, taking a long drink of the beer the waitress thunked petulantly down in front of her instead, eyes locked on the two brothers as they watched her with that feral look in their eyes.

Yep, it's huntin' season for those two alright.

And it's lookin' more and more like her virginity is the prey.

oOoOoOo

Victor gave Rogue a feral grin as he slid into the booth, keeping his back firmly against the wall, and faced the seated little bit of trouble that was once again sandwiched between himself and his brother. Only this time with no easy way out, outside-a usin' her powers anyway. Her skin sounded kinda fun to him.

Like it'd be the rush of a lifetime.

Then again, no one's ever accused Victor Creed of bein' all that sane.

"Hey Stripes," he brushed a hand down her hair and shooting Jimmy a smug look all at the same time. "The runt was startin' to think you were gonna stand us up?"

"Stand y'all up?" Rogue arched a sarcastic brow. "We'd have to have made plans for that, don't ya think?"

The brothers just laughed, the reaction she was looking for with her teasing. Good. They do have senses of humor. She'd hoped so after hearing their nicknames for Scott and the Professor. Spending time around other killers usually went a lot smoother when everybody knows how to take a joke. Less blood spilled that way.