Thank you all who have hung in there with the story this far, and thank you to all the new readers who have added Masochist to their favorite stories and story alerts, as well as sending in all of their encouraging reviews. And last but not least, thank you to my Beta reader who for the last two chapters has steered us all through the storm of my grammatical errors.

Chapter Five

After Jubilee tripped merrily away to save both mine and Logan's reputation from complete ruin, I sat back watching her and running the conversation back in my head. It was incredibly comforting to know that someone - besides a telepath - believed I wasn't some major junior slut in the making and Logan a sick old man. Logan was no angel, since touching him and having his thoughts inside of my head I know that, but I also knew that even if I was touchable the idea of Logan and me in the throws of passion was nothing but pure fiction.

Oh of course I've had my girlish fantasies about the man, who wouldn't? He's a total sex god! But trying to bring those fantasies to life? No... so not happening... not in a million years, I can tell in the way he looks at me. I'm so far from his type that it isn't even funny.

Absently my eyes had somehow drifted back to Logan standing guard on the patio when Mr. Summers approached. Instantly the hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle and stand on end. Uh-oh. This must be the 'Man to man' talk, and I don't see this going very well either.

Pansy ass little fucker.

That's my inner Logan speaking and as much as I like Mr. Summers I have to sort of agree with Logan. Why can't he just mind his own business? I can't even touch anyone without sending them into a coma for crying out loud.

Now they're walking away together. Yeah take you're idiocy somewhere more private so no one else can see that you don't have the sense God gave a piss ant. I don't know why I'm letting this get to me so much, it's no ones business whether or not there is anything going on between me and Logan. Not that I want everyone thinking I'm, 'Loppin' Logan'. Do I?

Well of course not! (I think.)

Getting up I fold up my blanket and grab my book, I need to go inside, I think all this sun is making me a little too judgmental. Mr. Summers is only looking out for my best interests which I can respect in a sweet sort of annoying way, so I guess I really shouldn't be so hard on him, even if he doesn't know what he's talking about.

Avoiding the game as best as I could I slipped into the mansion but was nearly knocked off my feet by Mr. Summers coming back out. Wow! He must really be upset, he didn't even apologize. I hope Logan set him straight and things can get back to normal around here (or at least as normal as a messed up version of the Playboy mansion full of teenage mutants without all the blondes and boobs) can be.

Hearing someone in the kitchen I shrug deciding not to stick my nose into it, I've have enough human contact for today thank you very much, but then I smell him. Logan. Since taking his powers I know that everyone has a natural scent, most of them smell the same to me but some stand out a little more than others but none so much as Logan's does. Maybe it's because I have him inside my head now. Maybe I would have noticed his smell anyway but I kind of doubt it.

Logan's scent smells different from everyone here. It could be because everyone's baser scents are all smothered down by artificial scents like shampoo, deodorant, and perfumes. Professor Xavier smells faintly of peppermint and kindness and Mr. Summers always smells like his cologne - a little too much cologne if you ask me. But Logan's scent is more natural like the wind and trees, musky with just a hint of his aftershave.

Logan smells...good.

Go talk to him, kid.

Great now I have the Logan in my head pushing me towards the physical Logan. I really don't need this right now. Following his scent into the garage I set my blanket and books down on one of the benches and smirk slightly watching his finely shaped back side bend down into the refrigerator for a beer, Logan does have a nice butt. Thanks, kid. You gotta pretty nice rack yourself. I inwardly growl at the inner Logan, I don't need him feeding into anymore of my girlish fantasies. Keep it to yourself would ya? There, maybe now I can get some peace and quiet inside my own head.

"You know what they're saying about us?" I ask folding my arms over my chest, my rack as Logan so poetically put it. If the inner Logan likes my boobs does that mean the real Logan likes them too? Jesus what am I doing? I'm trying to make the rumors about us stop not keep them going, remember? Just calm down OK.

He doesn't pay much attention to me so I walk in and pull myself up a seat on one of the work tables, minding that I don't plant my ass on top of a screw driver. I'm still a little sore from that piece of my portable CD player that got jammed into my butt cheek. Frowning I take his beer away and take a long pull from the bottle. Yikes, where did that come from? I'm normally never this bold. Must be the inner Logan again, or at least I'm going to blame it on him for now.

"Think we're having some kind of sorted Humbert Humbert and Lolita affair or something." I muse handing the bottle back to him, to which he gives me a somewhat amused smirk – he's good at that.

"More like I'm fucking you blind." He notes leaning his hip against the table.

I almost crack when I look at him again, I can actually feel the blush in my cheeks now.

"Anyway I talked to Jubilee or more really she talked to me. She wanted to know if I was really lopping you're pony." God I can't believe I just really said.

I reach over taking the beer away from him again and this time I keep it, and take a sip before planting it between my legs and shrugging.

"I set the story straight though, she's off spreading the word now."

"Good." he grunts opening the fridge for another beer because he obviously isn't getting this one back.

"Yep." I say giving him a one of those one word reply's that he's so famous for.

Suddenly we both look around as the garage door slams open and there's Jubilee in all of her yellow clad glory.

"Good evening friends!" She says in sing-song fashion.

Swiftly and before I really knew what he was doing Logan pulled the beer from between my legs and stashed it behind his back before leaning more casually against the table.

"I thought I'd find you two love birds together." she teases sauntering in. "You'll be glad to know that now thanks to my wonderful talent of correcting gossip that the word is around the school that you two are totally not banging." She squealed with joy before launching herself at Logan in a bear hug.

Raising an amused brow I smile slightly looking at Jubilee all but nearly plastering herself to Logan's mid section. Oh if the school could only see this, we'd be having a threesome.

"Why are you hugging me?"

"Cause I just wanted to thank you for saving my best friends life."

"Well fuckin' quit it."

Jubilee not so gracefully unpeeled herself from Logan and stood back smiling. "Someone's in a bad mood, what's the matter Wolvie not getting any?"

I couldn't help rolling my eyes, this was now going to be her joke about us. At least now everyone knew that it was just that, a joke.

"How did you know we were in here anyways?" I ask tilting my head a little bit.

"Oh I followed you when you came in and was listening at the door. You two should really get a room together."

SNIKT.

Logan has released the claws on his right hand brandishing them at Jubilee to which she held up both hands palms up in surrender.

"I'm going, I'm going." she said backing towards the door again and slamming it shut.

Laughing I shook my head taking my beer back.

"Somehow I don't think anyone will ever accuse Jubilee of being subtle." I said taking a sip.

"I heard that." She yelled from behind the door before the sound of retreating footsteps told me she'd finally stopped eavesdropping.

After a moments pause, and I think we were both waiting for Jubilee to come creeping back up to the door again, Logan spoke.

"Got that right, darlin'."

Darlin'? Where did that come from? Maybe he calls everyone that, terms of endearment don't always mean something.

"You know she's right though, I never really did thank you. I mean, I know that I didn't give you much choice in the matter but still you did save my life and even though it might not be much of a life I'd still like to live it." I say looking at him.

For a second he looks embarrassed so I don't say anything else, just sit there quietly sipping my beer, which doesn't taste that bad but still tastes kind of gross at the same time, must be an acquired taste sort of thing. Idly I wander if I can taste Logan on it and I don't think I can. (Why am I even wondering that in the first place? Stop it!)

"So what kind of a name is Rogue anyway?"

"It's not."

No ones asked me that question before, I guess everyone just assumes that Rogue is my real name, it's not of course. I left my real name behind when I left home, sadly but not reluctantly, when I left I didn't want anything left to remind me of the shattered life and lives that I was leaving behind me, so I took up a new name. A name that would represent something about myself so I picked Rogue, because in a way that's what I am now.

"Marie."

"What?"

"My real name...it's Marie."