Logan halted on his way up the back stairs as he caught an unfamiliar scent. The school didn't have many visitors, especially not ones that made use of the back stairs. In fact, most visitors didn't get much beyond the front desk and Charles' secretary, Elaine — the Dragon Lady, as she was more commonly known among the staff and students. An interesting title, considering the woman wasn't a mutant, although the students swore up and down that she had eyes in the back of her head, a skin as thick as leather, and a flaming tongue. The staff were inclined to agree.
Logan breathed in deeply, following the elusive scent. God, it smelled good. Really good. Not in the same way food or perfume smelled good, exactly. It was more basic, more primal. There was something almost familiar about it and it stirred something within him, a tingle of awareness — like he should be able to place the scent, but couldn't. Logan wondered, not for the first time, why certain scents had the power to affect him so profoundly. Then again, if he had a quarter for every time something sparked an almost-memory from his hazy past, he'd be able to bankroll Charles by now.
He grinned when he realized where the scent led. He stopped outside Elaine's office and stuck his head in the door. He had a love-hate relationship with the dignified old battleaxe. He loved to provoke her and she hated to let him think he could get away with his good-natured teasing... well, at least not before she got in a few good shots herself.
Logan winked at her. "Hey, darlin'. Chuck in?"
She tsked at his familiarity. "Good afternoon, Mr. Logan. Professor Xavier has just returned from luncheon." Her eyes twinkled in spite of her frosty tone. "And I am not, nor will I ever be your 'darling,' you scoundrel." She smoothed a hand over silver hair and patted her bun regally as she gave his scruffy face the once over. "Back in my day, men shaved before courting a woman."
Logan grinned wider. "Heh. That before or after they killed the dinosaur and dragged it home, honey?" He could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. That too was part of the game.
She smiled slyly. "Seeing as how you are most likely my elder by several centuries, I should think you already know the answer to that impertinent question, Mr. Logan."
Logan chuckled good-naturedly. "Good thing I heal, Elaine. That tongue of yours'll strip the hide right off a man."
"I'm glad to see I haven't lost my touch," she made a dismissive motion with her hand as the phone on her desk started to ring. "Professor Xavier is free to see you. Now get out of my office, old man. I have work to do."
"Sure thing... darlin'." He shot her a parting smirk and headed down the short hall towards Charles' office. He stopped outside the door to take a deep breath. Yes, whomever that scent belonged to had definitely spent some time here this afternoon and—
"Come." Charles' clipped voice was clearly audible through the door.
Glaring at the thick English oak, Logan stepped inside and closed the door after himself. "I hate it when ya do that, Chuck."
"Hazards of lingering outside a telepath's door, I'm afraid." Charles closed a file he'd been reading and gave Logan his full attention.
Logan grunted in amusement and his nostrils flared, unable to stop following the intriguing scent. He bypassed his usual perch on the divan and came to sit in the chair Marie had vacated less than an hour before. Charles watched him intently, but said nothing. Logan resisted the urge to stroke his fingers over the arm of the chair and met the Professor's questioning gaze.
"Is there something I can do for you, Logan?"
"Just wonderin' about your visitor." Logan saw the question in Charles' eyes. "Smelled 'em," he offered before Charles could ask. He'd already decided against adding that he not only liked the scent, but that something in it niggled at him, and it bothered him that he'd found the scent on the back stairs — a place visitors just didn't go unless escorted by one of the staff. He also knew Charles wasn't in the habit of letting strangers mingle with his students and something just wasn't adding up here.
"Ah, yes. That would be Rogue." Charles' demeanor suddenly changed as a worrisome thought occurred to him. "Is there a problem?" Logan had been in charge of the school's security for several years now and to have his head of security in his office, asking questions about Rogue within an hour of her visit, was unsettling to say the least. He did not want his second chance to be over before it had even started.
"Dunno. Just checkin' a few things out. Caught the scent on the back stairs and you didn't mention expectin' any visitors you'd trust 'round the kids in our briefin' this mornin'."
At his words, Charles visibly relaxed. "I am sorry. The situation is a bit... unusual." Logan raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Rogue was a student of mine."
"Hmph." Charles' scent said there was more going on here than just a visit from an old student, but at least that explained why she'd been allowed to move through the school unescorted... and everyone who'd ever lived here knew the back staircase was a faster route to the parking lot. Well, that was one mystery solved. Logan grunted. "What kinda name is Rogue?"
Charles smiled wryly. "This from a man who moonlights as the Wolverine?"
Logan chuckled. "You gotta point there, Wheels."
"Touché." The Professor's smile faded. "I will be discussing the particulars of that meeting with the staff tonight after dinner and I would prefer not to repeat myself needlessly, so I will be brief." His lips twitched. "The truth — straight up, no chaser, if you will."
"Fine by me." He much preferred that to long, drawn out explanations anyway.
"Ten years ago, for a very brief period of time, Rogue was my student. She left shortly before your arrival."
'Arrival'? Well, that was putting a nice face on it. Scott and Storm had dragged his sorry, half-dead carcass out of some godforsaken Canadian forest after he'd had a run-in with something they later told him not only had a name — Sabretooth — but also an owner. Magneto.
Fuckers.
He suppressed a growl and focused again on Charles. Logan didn't have to be a telepath to see that Charles wasn't at all happy about how things had turned out with Rogue. "I take it you weren't real thrilled 'bout her leavin'?"
"No. I was not." He drew in a deep breath and let it out. "The long and the short of it is that after ten years, I have a second chance. I do not intend to waste it."
Logan's eyes narrowed. "Christ. You want her for the team." That was something with which he was all too familiar, and he had a strong suspicion that Charles' desire to have her on the team had played a part in her leaving to begin with. Hell, he'd left this place himself several times before he finally joined up.
He was starting to like this Rogue. Charles was a good man who helped a lot of people, but he was also a persuasive man with a clear agenda. Though polite, Charles was a force to be reckoned with when he set his mind to something, and Logan had to admire anyone who stood up to that.
"What I want is irrelevant. She is an artist now, not a student in need of...direction. I requested a meeting with her to see if she would agree to paint several pieces for the school." A smile touched his lips. "She has accepted my offer. In exchange, I have given her my word that there will be no talk of her joining our team. She will be here to paint. Nothing more."
Yeah, right. Logan snorted. "Sounds familiar. Only in my case, I was just here so you could help me find some answers." He leveled Charles with a knowing stare. "You won't push her, just like ya didn't push me, but you ain't above a little coercion and we both know it."
"She has made it quite clear she has no desire to join our efforts."
"So did I." Logan grunted. He couldn't really fault Charles for that. It had been his own decision to join the team, but this place had a way of getting under a person's skin. And Charles was a perceptive man. He knew how to hook people. Christ, and Charles called him the pied piper? That man had him beat hands down. Convincing a kid was one thing. Convincing the Wolverine was another thing entirely. Logan shot him an unreadable look. "Don't bullshit me, Chuck. You'd be fuckin' ecstatic if she decided she wanted to put on the leather."
Charles' lips thinned. "Be that as it may, I have given my word. I have been given the chance to acquire some very fine art and perhaps to mend a fence or two. Anything beyond that is entirely up to her."
"Hmph." Logan grunted again. "What kinda mutation does she have, anyway?" He knew it had to be an alpha level mutation for Charles to want this second chance so badly.
"Her skin."
"What's it do?"
"Whenever Rogue touches someone, she absorbs their energy, their life force. In the case of mutants, she absorbs their 'gifts' for a short while."
Whenever she touched someone? That sounded pretty shitty for her. "You tellin' me if she touched Cyke, it'd not only put him down, but after, she could just open her eyes and level this fuckin' place?"
"That is exactly what I am telling you."
"Jesus." Logan whistled softly and then was silent a long moment as he remembered all the hushed talk surrounding an incident that had supposedly occurred shortly before his arrival. "She's the one, isn't she? The one Magneto took."
"She is."
"And she was still willin' to come back here and talk with ya?" Charles nodded and Logan's opinion of her rose another notch. "I like her already," he smirked. He might live here, might put his ass on the line for the team each and every time they went out, but he was still the Wolverine. He didn't sugarcoat things for anyone.
Truth be told, he enjoyed needling Charles and the others, if for no other reason than the sense of camaraderie it gave him. Well, that, and he'd always taken an obscene amount of pleasure in making Slim's ears steam. Heh. And in his opinion, not nearly enough people around here told things like they were, let alone possessed the guts to openly defy Chuck.
"I thought you might." Charles nodded knowingly, all too familiar with Logan's gruff, prickly humor, and he understood it for what it was. Logan didn't play with people he didn't like. They only got silence and the business end of his claws. The Professor's amusement faded. "I cannot afford to make any mistakes this time, Logan. We must all put our best foot forward."
Logan frowned. "I don't care who she is to you. I ain't pretendin' to be somethin' I'm not. She either takes us as is or she can stick it where the sun don't shine." He didn't care if she had stood up to Chuck. He didn't dance for anyone. If she didn't like that then she could take a flying fuck — and, for that matter, so could the Professor. "I ain't makin' nice just so you can get her to join up."
"I would not dream of asking such a thing from any of you. It would be a disservice to her, and to everyone here, for us to pretend to be something we are not. It is my fondest wish she sees us all as we truly are." There was something in the Professor's scent that made Logan think there was more to that last statement than just the obvious, but Charles continued, despite Logan's intense stare. "I am merely voicing my concern and requesting that the staff —"
"Not fuck with the newbie?" Logan's lips twitched. They'd all been known to do that on occasion. Look how Slim had treated him upon his arrival. Of course, flirting shamelessly with Jean just to piss him off and calling him a dick hadn't exactly helped matters, but they'd long since settled things between them. Jean's subsequent marriage to Scott had sent a clear message that she was, and always would be, his girl. Logan had, of course, continued to flirt with her to provoke Scott, and Scott had continued to give it back as just good. Neither of them would have it any other way. They enjoyed rubbing each other the wrong way.
"Indeed." Charles smiled dryly. He knew all too well his staff's penchant for practical jokes, biting sarcasm, and one-upmanship, just as he realized those behaviors were a part of how they dealt with the stresses heaped on them by doing what they did day in and day out. "Nobody will be expected to 'make nice' as you so eloquently put it, but I do expect all of you to extend to her the same courtesy you would to any outside professional working here." Charles smoothed a hand over his impeccable suit and his expression became serious. "I want her stay with us to be as pleasant as possible. This is one fence I want very much to mend."
Logan nodded curtly. "Gotcha." He pushed himself from the chair, confirmed he would be back in time for the meeting Charles had scheduled after dinner, and left the office without a backward glance. As much as he didn't care for meetings, he'd gladly sit through the one tonight. He was interested in learning more details about the mysterious 'Rogue' and her upcoming stay at the school. Logan grinned. Hell, Chuck could mend all the damn fences he liked.
Logan, however, had an entirely different set of plans — plans that definitely included getting to know the woman who'd not only stood up to Charles, but whose still-lingering scent had just made his jeans uncomfortably tight.
Up next: The Meeting. In which everything old is new again. The Wolverine finally meets The Rogue...