Chapter 2

"So," Rogue said tightly, scanning her narrowed eyes over the jaded casualties that littered the classroom. "Any questions?"

It was a ridiculous question, really. Many of the faces that stared back at her were nearly lifeless, having been put practically to death by her dreadfully boring lecture of the day (and that was an understatement). Some students had even given up all hope of desperately feigning attention and were now decorating their desks with small pools of drool as they slumbered in unconscious bliss. Apparently, no one gave a flying fuck about the gazillion ways to solve quadratics, logarithms, and inverses in pre-calculus.

The joys of education…

The irked teaching assistant shot an annoyed look at Ororo, who was sitting at her desk and dangerously close to dozing off herself.

Oh, for crying out loud…

"Hey look, is that Magneto hovering outside the window?" Rogue asked nonchalantly, pointing toward the large open window next to the chalkboard.

It was amazing how the miracle of life seemed to return with a fierce vengeance to the ailing mutants. The sound of various school supplies clattering on the floor and chairs scraping back filled the room as the occupants began panicking all at once. Even those who had been sleeping peacefully five seconds ago were now fully alert and making a beeline for the exit.

Ororo had bolted up from her seat, her numerous bottles of prescription pills tipping and scattering over her desk. "Magneto?"

Rogue picked up a ruler and began banging the board with it in an attempt to get everyone's attention. "Relax! Magneto's not here! I was just trying to wake you guys up!"

The movement instantly ceased in the classroom as twenty-three pairs of eyes glared in her direction.

"How could you do that?" one girl whined. "That really wasn't funny, you know."

Rogue, as the heroine of the story, was always supposed to be very tolerant and understanding and sensible. But not this time.

"Good, because I'm in no mood for humor myself," she declared sharply. "All of you get your butts back into those seats now."

In the blink of an eye, every single derriere was in its assigned seat. Even Ororo's.

It still surprised her how the younger students listened to her without defiance, despite her taking the cure. Well, her being the protagonist and all, it wouldn't do for the entire student body to hate her guts, especially with all the antagonists she would be encountering later on.

"I'm going to ask one more time. Any questions?" It sounded like a threat, not an inquiry.

No one dared to move or speak.

"Okay, then. You're dismissed," Rogue said wearily, even though it was supposed to be Ororo's call. The older woman didn't object, however.

She had just finished clearing away her medication by the time the last student left the room. Rogue turned to her and crossed her arms.

"Ms. Munroe, I still don't get why you picked me for your teaching assistant. I hate math, I can't stand teaching, and I'm not even a mutant anymore," she told her.

"We're not going to kick you out just because you took the cure. But since you are not a mutant now, as you said, I needed to give you a position in the institute. And this is it." Ororo's smile looked suspiciously like the ones Bobby had given her when he was hiding something.

Rogue was perturbed, but mysteriously found herself unable to find the desire to leave again, possibly due to a certain pyromaniac's presence in the institute. Shrugging, she bid Ororo good bye and walked out of the classroom, hoping to go to her room and embark on the tedious task of unpacking her things.

Of course, there was no way in hell the rest of her day would go uneventful. Fate was not that kind. In fact, it was a downright bitch, she soon discovered, as she rounded the corner and walked straight into the petite form of Kitty Pryde.

-x X x-

Bobby's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched John produce box after box of condoms from his duffel bag and toss them onto the floor as if they were everyday items that belonged out in the open, where everyone could see them.

"W-what do you think you're doing with those?" an appalled Bobby screeched. The sight of those horrid things was burning his sensitive retinas.

"What's the matter, Iceman? Can't handle being around the big boys?" John taunted, tossing a box at him.

Bobby violently recoiled from the flying box of sin and jumped back several feet, putting a large amount of distance between him and the other boy. "I won't stand to have you and your… your… repulsive rubber raincoats polluting my room!"

John shot him an irritated look and retrieved the box. "So then what protection do you use with that mousy girl?" he asked bluntly.

"Excuse me?" Bobby was feeling a nosebleed coming on from listening to such a vile subject.

Little did he know, John had actually never had any use for them before because he was secretly a virgin (I KNOW, I can't believe it, either!) who hadn't the slightest interest in physical intimacy until he met Rogue, the one person in the world he couldn't be physically intimate with… until now. But since every Ryro requires him to be some hot and out-of-control sex god, he figured he'd just lug the condoms around for show.

So his unpacking went on for a few more minutes while Bobby hid behind his pillows, glaring at John for violating the sacred ground that was his room, even if it used to be John's room, too.

Some more minutes passed.

Hating uncomfortable silences, John broke it. "So I don't get why you'd drop Rogue for Kathy—"

"Kitty!"

"Whatever. The point is you're a moron." He shoved the last of his clothes into his closet and then fixed Bobby with a feral grin. "Rogue's up for the taking, Drake. You won't mind if I give it a shot, do you?" With a somewhat characteristic sinister cackle, he stalked out of the room.

That was what finally penetrated the foot-thick bone that was Bobby's skull.

John and Rogue…

Together?

Over his dead body! He bolted to his feet, a new determination surging through him. There was no way he was going to lose her to John Allerdyce, even though he'd technically already lost her and was now tap dancing around an almost-relationship with Shadowcat. But alas, that last fact failed to register in his air-filled head as he hurried out the door and set the motion for the overlapping love triangles of the story.

-x X x-

Meanwhile, the two contenders for Bobby's love were facing off in the ultimate cat fight of the century.

Well, not really.

The look of horror Kitty was directing at Rogue eliminated any such possibility of estrogenic bloodshed. Unlike Bobby, Kitty actually had some brain cells worth a shit, and therefore possessed enough intelligence to know that she was a primary part of the cause of Rogue's disintegrated relationship with Bobby, Rogue's de-evolution into a mere homo sapien, and pretty much the overall destruction of Rogue's life.

Wow. If only there was an award for accomplishing all that in one month…

Rogue wasn't sure how she should address the little gawking man-stealer before her. Should she be the bitter, jealous ex? The angry scorned woman? Or how about the nauseating "although-you-stole-the-only-man-I've-ever-loved-I 'm-not-holding-a-grudge-at-all-I'm-very-happy-for- you-let's-be-friends-for-life-teehee!" role?

Before she could choose, Kitty composed herself and said shakily, "Look, Rogue, about Bobby—"

Rogue, however, had absolutely no intention of sticking around to hear her justification of sucking Bobby to her side like a vacuum. Deciding that from then on she would reject any acknowledgement of Kitty's existence, she wordlessly moved around the other girl and continued walking down the corridor.

Kitty watched her go, thinking about going after her.

"Kitty!" Bobby called, appearing from an adjoining hallway.

She turned to regard him with a blindingly bright smile and heart-filled eyes. "Hi, Bobby!" she greeted happily, instantly losing all memory of the encounter with Rogue. "I haven't seen you all day!"

Her sentences to him always ended in exclamation points because she was supposed to be very thankful and happy and excited that she had him, especially after all the "effort" she'd put forth in wrestling him from Rogue's "clutches."

He returned her smile with one of his perfect ones… you know, the type where his teeth are pearly white and glinting in whatever source of light is around and everything. Yeah…

"Hey, have you seen Rogue?" he asked innocently.

Kitty's smile faltered.

Now, he didn't know it (can't really blame him this time, with him possessing a Y chromosome and the levels of testosterone that he has), but he had made two mistakes here.

Mistake #1: The first words out of his mouth were not "You're looking beautiful today!" or "How are you doing, sweetheart?" or "I want you to join me tonight for dinner at (insert outrageously overpriced restaurant here)" or some such nonsense like that.

Mistake #2: He had the nerve to mention his ex-girlfriend in her presence, even going so far as to ask her of her whereabouts, as if the two girls were the best of chums and all that jazz.

The result of his error was a very OOC Kitty.

"Bobby! Why would you think I'd know where she was?" cried his affronted almost-girlfriend, even though she had just seen Rogue not forty-five seconds ago. "Why don't you ever ask how I am? Why don't you like me anymore?"

Bobby, with the inability to see how he had upset her due to the sheer fact that he was a man and didn't understand women and their insane bouts of hormonal hysterics whatsoever, only looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"You couldn't say a simple 'good morning' to me?" she went on, looking and sounding like the epitome of PMS.

"Uh, I'm sorry?"

Quick as a flash, her scrunching face instantly broke back out into a smile. "Oh, don't worry! I forgive you! Now that I know you love me enough to say you're sorry and I no longer have to feel insecure about other women, I think I actually like Rogue!"

The statement was so full of inaccuracies that he didn't bother to correct any of them.

"Yeah, about her… listen, Kitty," Bobby said nervously. He shifted his weight on one foot and looked at everything but her. "I like you and care about you. A lot," he added for good measure. "But I also still have feelings for Rogue."

He held his breath and waited for her reaction.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I hate that bitch!" screamed Kitty, eyes burning with a fire that would put John to shame.

"But I thought you just said you liked her," Bobby told her weakly.

"That was when I thought you were all mine!"

He winced. "Kitty, please don't be so overdramatic…"

"I'M NOT BEING OVERDRAMATIC!" she screeched overdramatically.

They were now attracting much unwanted attention, and several students who had been heading their way immediately veered off in another direction, not keen on getting involved with a lovers' quarrel. They especially had good reason to avoid it, for Kitty looked absolutely hostile as she threw a tantrum right there in the middle of the hall. The fleeing students all pitied Bobby, who was haplessly another poor victim of a woman's wrath.

Two minutes into her shrieking and cursing, she realized Bobby had disappeared, having snuck away in mild terror. She clamped her mouth shut and glared at nothing in particular, plotting unjustified revenge against the girl whose man she had stolen in the first place.

-x X x-

Logan was in his room minding his own business when a loud, obnoxious knock sounded on his door. He glanced up reluctantly from where he was sprawled untidily in his armchair, looking more like an animal than ever with his bloodshot eyes and serious lack of grooming. Needless to say, countless bottles of every imaginable kind of alcohol adorned his dresser, bed, floor, and every other available surface of his room. Most of them were empty while some were half full, ranging from beer to hard liquor to mysterious liquids that were probably close to poison.

It was a wonder he hadn't died yet with all the crap he'd been consuming for the past month or so, even with his healing powers. Furthermore, his numerous attempts to take his own life had been frustratingly squandered by his mutation, and he was to the point where he'd sentenced himself to becoming one with his armchair and staring forever outside the window in dark, grim despair.

However, the next knock—noticeably louder and more obnoxious than the previous one—was threatening to break his resolution. He glared at the door in irritation, wanting to yell at the discourteous ingrate on the other side to go away and leave him the hell alone so he could be depressed in peace. But the effort it would take to bring his vocal cords back to life just seemed too troublesome, so he considered staying quiet and pretending that he wasn't in.

That didn't work, though, since it was a well known fact around the mansion that he had locked himself in his room after Jean Grey's funeral and ordered two years' supply of alcohol, intending to drink away his sorrows for a very, very long time. Plus, the combined odor of unwashed Wolverine and heavy liquor wafting around the entire staff hallway was a telltale sign of his presence.

As the person outside finally figured out that the "politeness" of knocking was not effective in getting them inside, the pounding ceased, followed by the door swinging open to reveal a very aggravated-looking Warren. His gaze of contempt at the once glorified Wolverine quickly faded to pity as he took in the older man's pathetic state.

Logan was staring back at him in something that looked close to awe, as he failed to recognize Warren and instead saw the Angel of Death standing there, ready to take him away and put him out of his misery. "Took you long enough. Now hurry up and send me to heaven or hell or wherever the fuck I'm supposed to go," he ordered gruffly.

Warren only sighed and took one step inside, pinching his nostrils together with one hand to avoid inhaling the powerful smell. "I'm not your grim reaper, Logan, I'm just a messenger. Rogue told me to tell you—you know, since she's not talking to you—that Ms. Munroe and Mr. McCoy are going to have a staff meeting tonight, and they'd be honored if you'd grace them with your presence," he said.

"No," Logan replied decisively.

The younger mutant shrugged and turned to leave. "Okay, but just know that you can't stay in here forever. You'll have to come out sooner or later." The door shut behind him and his footsteps could be heard running down the hallway as he desperately sought to draw fresh air into his lungs.

Logan remained in his current position, now eyeing the bottle of whiskey that was just an inch or two out of his reach. Leave his room? What a preposterous idea! The nerve they had to expect him to cease his rightful mourning prematurely! Grace them with his presence, indeed. If they wanted to see him, they would have to mosey on up here and forcefully drag him out. So there! With a firm grunt of finality, he snatched the bottle and started to chug the contents down.

The door opened again, this time slowly. Logan's temper finally snapped and he growled loudly in outrage as he prepared to hurl the bottle at the intruder. But the face that greeted his line of vision immediately doused cold water on his rising blood pressure, and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as the bottle slipped from his hand to land on the floor. He suddenly felt lightheaded and his breathing grew shallow when the person, a female, gave him an apologetic smile.

"Um, sorry to bother you…" she said timidly.

Logan continued to exhibit the symptoms of an oncoming heart attack. After several seconds of delving into his mind to relearn how to speak, he managed to choke out one word.

"Jean?"

-x X x-

Rogue glared at the nuisance better known as John Allerdyce standing in her way. After her run-in with Bobby's new smooch-partner, she had restored her belongings to their places in her room, and then had been summoned by Ororo again to ask her to invite Logan to the staff meeting later this evening. Still feeling quite sour toward him, she had grabbed Warren by the collar as he passed her in the corridor, asking him to deliver the message. His initial refusal to carry out her request was rapidly turned around when she provided a verbal elaboration of what a bucket of liquid tar could do to his beautiful wings. Although she was bluffing and wouldn't actually dream of hurting the man since she was the heroine and was, by protagonist law, not allowed to stoop to harming innocent sub-characters, he had taken her rather seriously.

Now all she wanted to do was enter the library and curl up with a good book, but it seemed that her old friend John had other ideas. He just stood there smirking at her, blockading the doorframe with his body.

"So, you decided to stay after all," he stated in that haughty tone of his.

"Yeah, but you're quickly making me change my mind," she answered, still glaring at him. "Are you going to move or am I going to have to make you?"

"Oh, please do." It was a statement meant to have a suggestive innuendo.

Unfortunately, she interpreted it as: I DARE you, you meaningless insignificant human!

She reached up and mercilessly pinched his left ear. The smirk was successfully erased from his face as he loudly protested her crablike grip. She only tightened it and tugged outwards and away from the entrance to the library. His body inevitably followed.

"Rogue! Why are you always touching him whenever I see you?" came Bobby's irritating perfect voice. In fact, it was so perfect that it made the singing of angels sound like claws scraping on a chalkboard.

She released her grip of John's violated ear as she gawked at Bobby disbelievingly. "Are you that blind? God, Bobby—"

"Yeah, can't you see how much we mean to each other?" John interrupted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and scowling at the other boy.

Rogue was about to contradict John's declaration and shove him away from her, but as every triangle dictates, the third party must throw a wrench in the works. And that was exactly what Bobby did.

"Rogue, I think I still love you!" he cried passionately.

The other two froze, gaping at him in shock. John was the first to find his voice.

"WHAT!"