Summary: A single act brings hurt and grief.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men

Rating: T

Betrayal

Chapter 15

Present Time: Westchester, New York

…later in the day…

After lecturing for an hour, Ororo Munroe hastily made her way to the kitchen, to pig out on leftover pizza, Chinese food, and the carton of Häagen Dazs stashed in the back of the freezer. Her appetite had picked up lately, which wasn't surprising, she was pregnant and was now eating for two. She'd made arrangements to see Hank tomorrow morning. He was going to perform her first ultrasound and prescribe Pre-natal vitamins to ensure a healthy pregnancy.

At the thought of an ultrasound, she saddened. It would have been nice to have Logan by her side, holding her hand, as they witnessed the miracle that was their child.

But then, who knows if this child was even Logan's, after all, she'd slept with Hank; there was always the horrifying factor he fathered her baby. She released a haggard sigh, clamping a protective hand over her flat stomach.

Stress.

It wasn't good for her and certainly not for her child.

Entering the kitchen, she went to the refrigerator, and peeked inside. She frowned. Someone else had beaten her to the pizza. Spying the Chinese food, she removed two cartons, one filled with white rice, the other sesame chicken, and set them on the counter. To her dismay, she locked eyes with Logan. He was sitting in the corner, smoking a cigar, a cold beer resting on the table.

"You shouldn't smoke," she said passively, while sharing her food onto a plate, and putting it in the microwave.

"You talkin' to me now," he arched a brow in surprise. "It's a step up from yesterday."

Ororo let out a breath, shaking her head. "I…I really don't want…to get into this with you."

"We're gonna have to, eventually."

She addressed him with cold, unblinking blue eyes. He tipped his head, gauging her, before turning eyes to the ceiling, and taking a huge swig on his beer. An harsh silence dominated the kitchen, which was soon disrupted by the alarm going off in the microwave. Ororo covered the short distance to the counter and took out the steaming food.

It smelled heavenly.

Selecting a glass, she went back to the fridge, and poured some lemonade. Without a backward second glance at Logan, she headed towards the exit, intent on keeping the peace less things exploded out of control. "You can't keep avoiding me forever 'Ro."

She looked over her shoulder, glowering. "If I didn't avoid you, I might kill you."

"How long are you gonna hold my sins against me?"

Lowering her eyes, Ororo tried to hone in on her anger, and guilt. She knew wasn't a saint in this matter. Her sin was downstairs, busy, investigating Rogue's profound breakthrough, and Scott's sudden ability to see without his visors. She didn't know how Logan would react if he knew she'd been intimate with Hank. Her head jerked up to the sound of the chair scraping across the floor. She stiffened as he came to her, his eyes pleading.

"Ro," he said tenderly, brushing his fingers through her hair, grazing her cheek. "I'm sorry. I ain't perfect…I fucked up…but…you know me…I don't know how to be a boyfriend."

Outrage, Ororo slapped him hard in the face, her plate of food and drink crashing to the floor in a huge mess. "That's you're excuse. After all you've done to humiliate me in front of everyone, that's the best you can come up with!"

Logan reeled back, eyes black, his pride burning. "Damn it 'Ro! I'm trying to make it right between us?"

"Make it right! You could never make it!" She roared, lashing at him, the tears blinding her as she laid savage blows on his body. "I…loved you…you hurt me…I hate…you!"

He seized her by the wrist, halting her frantic attacks. "Okay, fine…you hate me! But don't think ya completely innocent! It didn't give me the slightest pleasure to crawl in to bed next to you when I knew you slept with him!"

Frozen, Ororo recoiled as though she'd been burned by fire. She peered at Logan, eyes large in fright, tears rolling down her dark cheeks. He was beside himself in rage; his anger emanated off his body in waves.

"Wha--what are you talking about?"

He flinched, unsure the soft wisp was Ororo's voice. "I talking about you…fuzz ball…and the week you all went up to D.C."

She clamped a hand on her mouth in horror. "Oh my god."

Darkening, Logan went on. "Made you feel good to paint me as the bad guy didn't it! Logan, the horny, ill-bred, blood hound who can't seem to keep it in his pants!"

"If you knew about Hank and I, why did you come back?"

"I came back for the baby!" He roared, grabbing her at the shoulders. "And for you…and the hope we might be able to patch things between us. I was wrong. I come home and find you all cozy with him! Why him huh? Why?" He shook her roughly. "Answer me why?"

Ororo fought to be free from his hold. When he let her go, she took two steps to the door, glaring hot daggers at him. "You have no right to make demands on me or ask me questions! I know it wasn't the first time you fucked Jean…and it certainly wasn't the last!" She clamped her fist shaking it in his face, her temper raging out of control. "You want to know why I slept with Hank! It's because I caught you screwing the life out of Jean in her office the day I was to leave for Washington! I wanted revenge! Are you happy now!"

Blinded by his rage, he surged towards her. Ororo cringed backwards, terrified he was going to strike her. "Logan! Ororo!" They spun around to see the Professor in the doorway, a look of extreme agitation on his face. "Please…for god sakes…enough! Ororo…think about the baby…please!"

Faltering back, Logan stormed to the table he was seated at, snatched his case of beer and cigar pack, and charged out the backdoor.

"God," Ororo whimpered. She was trembling like a leaf. "I can't take this." Without another word, she fled past the Professor.

--

"There you are?" Rogue cried, racing down the length of the garage, embracing Scott in a big bear hug. "I was shocked when I went back to your classroom and you weren't there. I thought we were having lunch together?"

"Sorry," Scott said forcing a smile, wringing a towel in his hands. For the last two hours he'd been going over Jean's threat. Trying to find a way out of the scheme she'd concocted out sheer spite and jealously. "It must have slipped my mind."

"That's okay," she giggled, brushing her fingers in his hair. "I wasn't in the mood to eat anyway." Hiking on her toes, she tilted her head, lightly taking his mouth in a kiss.

Shuddering, want unleashing a wave of desire through his flesh, he took her of arms, pushing her aside before he did something he would regret. "Not now," he sighed, much to Rogue's surprise, and went back to waxing his car.

Tipping her head, Rogue stood there looking confused, watching Scott practically ignore her. "Is something wrong?"

He looked at her. "No, why?"

"I don't know," she said. "Earlier you couldn't wait to get your hands on me, now you're acting as if you can't stand my presence. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he clarified, releasing a puff of air from his lungs. Gripping the towel sopped in turtle wax, he rubbed his car earnestly. "I mean--" he continued, swerving around to stare deep into eyes. "I think we should take things slowly. I don't want to rush you into anything you don't want to do."

Rogue went to him, resting her hands on his chest. "I know you wouldn't Scott," she grinned. "But that doesn't me we can't fool around a bit. Do some experimenting." Stroking her finger over his mouth, she pushed enticingly into his body, her pert breast connecting with chest making him groan. "You don't know how depressing it's been for me these last two years." She nuzzled his neck, breathing in his manly scent, pressing warm kisses to his skin.

Turning his head, he met her lips, and wrapped his arms about her waist. As they kissed passionately, Scott lifted her off the floor and set her on his car. Rogue spread her legs, enclosing them around his hips, fiercely clawing her fingers in his hair. She moaned when his hands slipped under her shirt to caress skin that had been hidden from physical contact for the longest time. He skimmed up her side to cup her breast and she shivered. Reality soon tore into his consciousness, forcing him to see what he was doing, particularly when he felt her small hands tug on his belt.

Aching, Scott seized hold of her wrists, arresting them in a strong grip. "What are you doing?" he demanded far more roughly than he would've like.

He saw the pained expression in her eyes. "I just…I wanted to touch…you."

He withdrew and reached down to the snag the cloth that had fallen on the floor. Rogue monitored his movements through narrowed eyes. "What's gotten into you Scott? Why are you being like this? I was just…going with the flow. Don't you want…me…?"

"I do…so much…you're wonderful…amazing…I've never been so happy…but…"

"But?"

"I…I might as well be honest with you. I don't think I'm ready for a relationship just yet. I do like you R--Marie. You're cute, but I'm still hurting over Jean…still love her."

It broke him to watch the anguish chase over her lovely face, to see her flee the garage, her earful wails echoing the garage. He grimaced. Damn Jean! But what could he do? He didn't want Marie apart of Jean's twisted little vendetta. He would rather cut off his right arm than see her hurt by the wretched woman.

"I'm sorry." His heart cried.

--

Rogue's anguish was beyond the startling realization of the day she found out Bobby no longer desired her. She sat for hours outside the little cottage, wretched, staring out at the churning waters of the lake. Her face was white, tears long dried, stained her ashen cheeks, and her eyes were red. Cute. Scott called her cute. Cute was best to describe a puppy, not her. She yearned to beautiful, desirable, loved, not cute.

She winced, touching her temple.

The chance of such an occurrence was never going to happen now. Scott was still hurting, still in love with Jean. After what that horrid tramp had done, she plagued his thoughts, still drove him wild with her dusky beauty and womanly curves. Rogue knew then she was just fooling herself. How could she possibly compare to a woman who'd been the love of his life. It was stupid to believe she could ever make him happy.

She blinked crazily, tears welling underneath her long lashes. She didn't want to cry; she'd been crying for hours, yet the tears slipped down her face again. Covering her face, she gave into the grief strangling her in a death hold.

"Kid?"

She raised her eyes, finding Logan standing over her. Angry he'd come across her in such a state, she wiped her face furiously and rose. "What do you want?"

"I was just…what's the matter?"

"Nothing that concerns you," she hissed, and a made a retreat for inside the cottage.

Logan followed. "It's Scott isn't it. That son-of-a bitch!"

"No!" Rogue whirled around. "It's nothing to do with Scott. It's you! You! Everything was fine until you came back! Why don't you leave?"

"I've got business here," he snapped.

"What kind of business?"

"It ain't got nothing to do with you kid!"

"Well it's got everything to do with Ms. Munroe, that much is certain." she said pointedly. "And even she don't want you here!"

"If 'Ro don't want me, fine," he roared. "But don't think I'm leaving my baby without a father."

Rogue drew back startled. "Baby? What the hell are you talking about? What baby?"

He narrowed his black eyes on her. "What you're gonna tell me you don't know?"

"Know what?" she said in alarm. "Is Ms. Munroe pregnant?"

Logan's face shaped into shock, his mouth fell open, and his eyes went wide. "You don't know. She didn't tell you guys. Jesus."

"Tell us what?"

He pressed his lips together, suddenly rocked by a hard hitting factor. Ororo was going to keep quiet about the baby. She was going to do it old school, slip away when she could no longer hide her condition, then return with a so-called dead cousin's child to raise. She had no plans to tell him, probably never. Hurt, he took off down the road, leaving Rogue lost in confusion. He then broke into a hard run, anger pumping through his veins like poison.

Did she hate him that?

If she wanted to exact her revenge, couldn't she hire a bunch of ball busting skin heads to do the job. Sweat drenched his body. The forest foliage soon grew thick and he slashed his way through the vegetation till his energy was spent. Sinking to his knees, breath sharp, he tried to make sense of the mess he'd fallen into. All he needed was a chance…one chance to prove himself…one chance to make right all the wrong he'd created. If he was ever given such a chance he would do right by Storm.

He promised.

A/N: Votes are in.

Logan and Ororo: 19

Ororo and Hank: 7

Neither: 3

Logan and Ororo are going to live happily ever after, (not all of a sudden of course). I guess I shouldn't be surprised by the result. Don't worry, Hank won't be sad and lonely forever. I promise. I should also inform you that I have a nasty habit of not updating for what seems like an eternity. Don't hate me.