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Rogue
"C'mon, c'mon…"
I rolled the stick between my hands, desperately praying for a spark. I was hot, tired and angry and this son of a bitching thing wouldn't light! Tonight it was my turn to start the fire while Logan had gone down to the stream to wash off the day's grime. We took turns getting the camp set up, not that there was much camp to speak of, mainly one of us getting the food going, the other the fire. Most nights I had gotten it lit easy enough, though I hated it. Of course when it was Logan's turn I'd come back from freshening up and he'd already be kicking back next to a roaring fire, easy breezy, like he had some ancient Canadian secret for sparking kindling. Why was everything so goddamned easy for him? Man had been making me feel like an inexperienced child every time I turned around. I had survived just fine in a prehistoric wilderness all by my lonesome without his fancy dancy powers. I caught sight of a precious spark and bent low, whistling gently over it while I fed dried blades of grass in around it. C'mon, c'mon…
"What are you doing, darlin'?" I paused, redirected my air.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I looked up under my lashes and shot him the death glare as my pathetic spark fizzled and died. My temper lurched into my throat and I swallowed it, bit my lip and took a few deep breaths. He was giving me a strange look, his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth tugging like he was trying real hard not to laugh at me. I, on the other hand, was trying not to punch him. Instead, I flipped a lock of white bangs out of my face.
"Fire doesn't start itself, sugar, usually needs a spark." I went back to what I was doing. He had been on my case for days, but it was more than that. Something had changed in him and whatever it was added a further complication to our relationship. When he thought I couldn't see him, I had caught him watching me, and his eyes in those stolen glances burned with a sudden desire that startled me. Where was this coming from? There had never been anything like that between us. Well, that wasn't quite true. There had been kisses, sure, easiest way for me to borrow his power, and they were always fun, even in the middle of danger, but, once, there had been a kiss with a capital 'K', all lips and hands and passion and fire. It had happened but we had never talked about it again. But now, the two of us stranded together on this rock, he was starting to look at me like I was his last meal. Was he just lonely? Was I? Was I imagining every white hot brush of his skin on mine? Neither of us had been able to yet bring a voice to the shifting sand around us.
Without a word, he walked over to grab his jacket from where it was draped over a tree branch. I was dizzy and pissed, getting nowhere with my fire. What was my problem tonight? Logan dropped his jacket on the ground and knelt beside me. I was ready to snarl when he dug into the pocket of his jacket and produced a silver zippo lighter, flicked it, and held its flame to my pitiful pile of dried grass. My jaw dropped and I stared as the flames caught.
"C'mon, now," he said gruffly and tugged on my shoulder as he stood. "Don't get your eyebrows burnt off."
"You…you have a lighter?" Numb rage rolled down my limbs. I was so angry I couldn't see straight.
"Figured you knew, darlin'." He stepped over to his jacket and deposited the offensive metallic object back into the folds of worn leather. I stood, seething, stick in my hand.
"You have a lighter," I hissed with as much venom as I could muster.
"How'd you think I was starting the fires so fast every day?" he asked, enough sense not to outright laugh at me as I stalked towards him, taking huge gulping breaths. "Thought you saw it in my pocket."
"This whole time, you've had a lighter?!" I brandished my stick like a sword and stabbed it into his chest, using the point to emphasize every word. "You…big…fat…cheater!" He lost it and tried his best to dodge my angry pokes in between roars of laughter.
"How was I supposed to know you were doin' it the hard way? You always had the fire goin' by the time I got back to camp!" So had he. I threw the stick at him in disgust and pressed my hands to my temples. I was ready to cry I was so pissed off, but I was sick to death of weak tears.
"Now, goddamn it, don't be like that." He spun me around and I tried to shove him, but he caught my hands and held them tight. I squirmed to pull away from him, twisted to shake loose, but he pulled my backside into his chest and, keeping ahold of my hands, wrapping his arms around me. The warm feeling of being in his arms confused me so I lashed out at him, hooked my leg around his and shoved, knocking him off balance in a judo flip. He drug me down on top of him and flopped down on his back in the dirt. I pushed my head away from his chest but he wouldn't let go of my hands. I yanked on them to pull them free, but he curled his around them, running his thumbs along the tops. I let out a great big shuddering sigh of defeat and looked towards the growing fire in its ring of stones. When I looked back at him, his eyes were warm, almost hungry as they traveled across my face and body. A small shiver ran up my spine. I wasn't sure what this was, but whatever was changing between us had us both breathin' a little heavier than we should have. Were we still just friends? In that moment, I just didn't know anymore and was certain he didn't either. I slid my lower half off of his and smiled sheepishly, though I swear I saw a flash of regret in his eyes when I turned back towards the fire.
Logan
Left Rogue sleepin' by the fire, though I could see her from where I crouched in the crook of a nearby tree. Really hadn't wanted to leave her alone, but, sick as it was, I needed her as bait, needed everything to look like business as usual for our little friends. Made her absorb an extra big dose of my power before we settled down to sleep, her doin' nothing but bitchin' and whinin' while she touched me. The absorption hurt this time, first time in a long time her power had caused me any pain. I think she did it on purpose 'cause she was pissed at me. What else was new? Every time I turned around she was throwing a tantrum about something. Knew she was just lashing out at the unfairness of our situation, most of the time I didn't mind being her target, but sometimes she hit a little below the belt.
Waited 'til she was out cold, knew there was no other way she would have let me go off by myself. She tossed and turned on the hard ground for a long time before her breathin' finally settled and she fell asleep. Watched her for a while to make sure she was well and truly out, didn't want her stubborn ass following me, wanted her quiet and safe. I had been watching her sleep a lot lately. Her face was so relaxed when she slept, all the weight and stress and anger of what we were goin' through melting away. She was gorgeous, one of the most beautiful women I had ever known, and that was flamin' sayin' a lot. In that moment, more than anything, I wanted to curl up right next to her and hold her in my arms, make her forget all the things that were causing her pain. There had always been a fine line in our friendship, and the realization that I wanted more from her hit me like a punch to the gut. I swallowed the feeling. This wasn't the time or place, wasn't sure there ever would be.
I had moved away from camp and climbed a tree within sight of her, watching the firelight fade. They were still followin' us most days and I wasn't gettin' any damn sleep at night, knew they were just out of our fire's range, watchin' us. I needed to end this before they got over bein' curious and one of us got hurt. Time to make a stand. Heard 'em comin' before my eyes picked out the shadows of their sleek forms winding through the grass. They moved nearly silently. Wasn't sure why they hadn't made a play for us yet, didn't really make sense to me, wasn't what you would expect from predators. If they saw us as a threat or food, most animals would have lashed out at us by now. But they had been real cagey, just followin', stayin' downwind, observing us, learning what we were about. That made me real nervous. The majority of creatures we'd run across on this planet so far had given us a wide berth, Rogue said it was because my animal stink let them know to get out of our way, but these guys weren't fallin' for it and weren't scared of us.
They came just to the edge of the firelight, two of 'em, like always. By the smell it was the same two. Had thought at first that maybe we were running into different pairs of them, goin' through their territory or something, but it had been the same creatures every time. I had hoped they'd stop following us the closer we got to the looming forests, to a different landscape, but no such luck. Needed to let 'em know I wasn't taking their shit anymore.
They were under my tree and I dropped from the branches, landed in their path in a defensive crouch. Didn't pop my claws but bared my teeth. They hissed, soundin' to my ears more like a pair of cobras than housecats, their spikes raised like hackles on their backs. I rose from my crouch but didn't stand to my full height yet, stayed low and loose. Their fangs, a mouthful of matching six inch spikes glinted in the dying light of the fire. I stomped a foot forward and their hisses became low growls. I kept moving slowly forward as they backed up, weaving around each other as they went. I could see them catching each other's signals, decidin' if they should attack me or flee. Fight or flight played out across the galaxy. I made the answer easy for them and popped my claws, the six blades gleaming, stood to my full height and snarled. They danced at me like scared kittens and then bolted through the grass, their retreat less silent and graceful than their approach.
Rogue
"You're not doin' it right, darlin'."
I ignored him and stooped to untangle my newly woven net from a patch of aquatic plants. I was pretty proud of my handiwork, wouldn't hear him badmouth it, and shook it out to make sure nothing had been damaged. We had found a species of fairly sturdy yet supple vines climbing some of the trees and I had been obsessively messing with it every night when we stopped, trying to find any use for it. So far, I had managed to make a net that I hoped would work for fishing, as well as a mesh knapsack to carry our spare clothes and tools in.
It was a beautiful day, thick with sunshine, and playing in our stream that had widened to become a river made me ridiculously homesick for Indian summer days on the Mississippi. I sighed and smiled at the memory, felt the water on my bare skin bead and evaporate under the alien sun.
"You okay, Rogue? Did it rip or something?" I gathered the net over one arm and turned towards Logan. He was bare-chested near the opposite bank of the river and looked to be hunting fish. A claw on one hand was extended and shining. He was soaked, dark hair on his head dripping and the matching hair on his chest and abs clung to each and every quivering muscle. His jeans were heavy with water and had slipped low on his hips revealing his chiseled v-cut and almost a little more. I blushed and ducked my head as I waded into the water near the bank and pushed hard through the strong, deep current in the middle as I headed back to him. I felt almost badly that he had to wear his one and only pair of pants pretty much twenty-four seven, but it wasn't my fault that he felt the need to not ever wear underwear. I had already caught more than a few glimpses of the little fella so far during our intergalactic vacation but, let me tell you, there was hardly anything little about him.
He held a hand up to stop me from coming towards him and put a finger to his lips. He tensed and struck swiftly into the thigh deep water. With his arm all the way in the water, he smiled at me and triumphantly pulled a fish from the murky depths. It wriggled and fought on his claw and he had to grab the glistening, twisting fish with his other hand to stop his razor sharp claw from slicing right through it.
"All right, bring that net over here, would you?" I hurried towards him, my feet picking carefully along the river bed beneath me as I crossed into the shallower water near him.
"How do you want to do this?" I asked and unfurled the net. He didn't answer me. I looked up to question him and caught the Wolverine ogling my scantily-clad form, a dumbstruck look on his face. He didn't wear underwear, but I sure did and I had been using my bra and panties as a substitute bikini. So, I liked matching sets of black silk and lace. Was that a crime? Logan continued to stare at me like he had never seen me before. "Logan?" Putting my hands on my hips, I cleared my throat. "You want to put it in here, or what?" He blinked several times and looked confused, like he wasn't sure he had heard me.
"What?" he asked, dazed. I was messing with him, but it was kind of fun. He was totally busted for checking me out.
"Did you want to put the fish you caught into my net?" I asked slowly, trying to hide the smirk that threatened my lips. He frowned at his fish and then looked at my net.
"No. No." He shook his head to focus. "I'll toss the fish on the bank by our stuff and clean it in a few minutes. Just thought this looked like a good spot to try your net. Terrain is right if you can throw it like you're supposed to." He moved through the water towards where our clothes were resting in sight on a sandy patch of shore. He laid the fish in the shade of some reeds, well back from the water, and rinsed his hands and claws in the river before coming back over to me. He held out his hand for the net; I pulled it back possessively.
"Did just fine in the Savage Land, thank you very much, with one just like this," I snapped. The heat was making my temper rise. He laughed and put his hand on my arm, tugging at the net.
"I'm sure you did, darlin'. But that was a long time ago, you're probably just a little rusty." I yanked it out of his hands.
"Rusty?" I gave him my best death glare and he put his hands up defensively.
"Okay, Rogue. If you're so damned good, let's see what you've got." He ran a hand through his wet, thick hair and crossed his arms over his chest. He had given up shaving a while ago and the shadow of a full beard was forming on his face. I liked it, made him look even wilder. Logan wasn't what you would call classically handsome, more like rugged and manly. It was sexy as hell. "Well?" He gestured to the water. I gritted my teeth and gave the net a determined toss. It twisted itself into a ball midair and dropped uselessly a few feet from us.
"Dammit!" I hissed and waded after it. Logan chuckled and I stuck my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes and walked out to meet me.
"Quit bein' so goddamned stubborn. I'm tryin' to help, you're just not quite throwing it right. You've got to snap your wrists when you do it." I shook out the net in front of me and he reached for it. "Here, let me show you." He moved right behind me, his chest pressed up against my back. He put his strong arms around me and gripped the net in front of us. "So, get a good hold on it, but not too hard, you want to keep your wrists and fingers nimble." His voice rumbled in my ear and I tried to pay attention to what he was showing me, but my body was paying more attention to what he was doing to me. He was warm, but the feeling of his skin against mine sent shivers up and down my spine. After so many years unable to touch anyone flesh to flesh, I still got a little crazy when someone was pressed against me. I felt my skin flush. "When you're ready you just…" he stopped and I knew he felt my shivers. I heard him swallow and he moved one of his hands to my upper arm, sliding his palm along the goose-bumps raised there.
"You cold, Rogue?" he whispered. My heart hammered in my chest and I turned my face towards him.
"No, sugar." I looked up at him and our lips met slowly over my shoulder, just a small, tentative kiss. Holding onto the net with one hand, he turned me around to face him and our lips moved together again, surer this time. His arms found my waist and pulled me tight against his body. When he let go, we were both beyond breathless. His eyes were troubled, searching mine for answers.
"Anna…" The sweet moment was shattered by a loud splash downriver, and his head spun to the sound. "Oh, shit!" He dropped me, dropped the net and charged deeper into the water. An embarrassed laugh bubbled in my throat as I caught sight of a small creature, vaguely otter-like, swimming away from the bank with Logan's fish in his mouth. The critter was long gone before Logan had even gone ten feet and he waded back to me.
"Fast little guy. He'd almost be cute if he hadn't stolen our damn supper." He opened his mouth to say more, clearly embarrassed by what had just happened between us. I didn't need him to say it, I got it. I'm no Jean Grey or Ororo Munroe. We had both gotten caught up in the moment again, we were just friends, after all. I decided to let it go and rescued him from any further discomfort.
"I better get cracking then, or our bellies will be empty tonight." I smiled and tossed the net out, gleeful at its perfect landing.
Sam
"Mutagenic specific agent."
Hank's words hung heavy in the air.
"Mutagenic specific agent?" Storm repeated the phrase, got the flavor of the words, and our group, perched on couches and chairs in the headmaster's office, looked from her to Beast in anticipation. Gambit, Rachel, Storm and I weren't the most scientifically advanced X-Men, adding Lila to that equation…I hoped the Doc could dumb things down enough for our crew. I sure didn't want to be the only one asking a bunch of stupid questions. Storm had made the decision to keep our briefing to a small contingent, though Bobby Drake, the Iceman, had thrown a small temper tantrum at bein' sidelined. Not that I blamed him. He and Rogue had been pretty close for a long time and he was sick with worry like the rest of us. Bobby had stepped up, picking up the slack helping the others run the school while our group scrambled against the Purifiers. I promised him I'd fill him in, and the rest of the team would be debriefed later. The X-Men were spread too thin at the moment, too many responsibilities.
"Yes, Ororo." Hank queued up his laptop and spun it on the desk to face us. The man had a power point presentation prepared for god's sake. I caught Rachel trying hard not to smile. "The sample acquired by Gambit appeared upon my early inspections to be innocuous. Harmless. It was not viral in nature, nor a bacterial agent. A spectral analysis identified little more than a saline suspension mixed with a few disconnected peptides and food coloring." Onscreen 3-D models of floating molecule chains spun and shifted.
"How could a syringe of salt water and food coloring take out their powers?" Gambit piped up, gingerly curling his lean form sideways in his chair. That old familiar guilt washed over me. His recovery was progressing with Ororo's help, his burns slowly healing, but it all still fell into the 'my fault' category. Rachel caught wind of my thoughts and scowled at me, but it she didn't like what I was thinking, she should keep her telepathy to herself.
"How indeed, my friend. That has been my frustration. All of my research and study into the vial's components yielded nothing harmful, nothing capable of the damage the Purifier's weapon caused Sam and Lila. I thought that I had missed some crucial piece of evidence, so in desperation, I asked Tony Stark to double-check a small sample of Surge. I was vindicated, though still immensely frustrated, when he was in turn rewarded with nil results. Then, finally, inspiration." The projection on the screen moved, changed. "The peptides in the solution are harmless…when acting on their own." Onscreen the chains of molecules danced and swirled, realigned. A new molecule appeared. "Mutant specific agent I'm calling it, as in mutant required. The solution was harmless until it encountered mutant DNA, the X-Gene that gives us all our powers. At a loss one day, I added a drop of my blood to a small sample of 'Surge'. Turns out my blood, or mutant blood, was the compound's necessary catalyst. When the seemingly innocuous peptides encountered the X-Gene, these peptides attached themselves to the mutant DNA, burning out the mutagenic portion of each cell. An injection could theoretically introduce millions of strands of these peptides to each of your systems, its sole purpose appears to be to break down the mutant DNA in the host's cells as it spreads through their system. Initial contact with mutant DNA caused that tremendous 'surge' of powers and energy as the compound swarmed their prey. This interaction of the peptides with the X-Gene caused the burning pain you are both still experiencing as the compound works to scour away your powers."
"Scour away?" My heart jumped into my throat. "Are you saying this is permanent?"
Hank shook his head. "I do not believe so, and Tony is inclined to agree. The peptide was nearly impossible to track, but now that we know what we are looking for we have been able to better study its behavior. Surge remains hidden in the host's cells as it jumps from one to the next, burning the X-Gene out as it goes, but it is visible as it releases from the first cell and moves to its next target. That is why we were unable to find any unusual lingering toxins in each of your systems, one would have to be looking at the exact moment it moved from one cell to the next, and know what you were looking for as the peptide chains are in effect harmless until encountering the X-Gene. However, in answer to your question young Guthrie, now that we are able to track its progress through your systems, your own cells seem to replicate at a much faster rate than the peptides are able to swarm through your body. You both only received one dose, a finite number of mutant-attacking strands are loose in your system. If you had received multiple injections, things would be much more desperate. It has been several months and you still have a limited, yet painful access to your powers. I believe, and my colleagues concur, that we should be able to devise a treatment that will clean out these, for lack of a better term, 'rogue' peptides, return your systems to normal and reengage your powers."
"If this was a trial run for the Purifiers," Storm spread her hands wide. "Perhaps they did not even know the long-term effects of the compound, were unaware that it did not completely remove a mutant's powers with a single dose?"
"Or, didn't care." Gambit pointed at the laptop's screen. "Remember, Stormy, they were trying to use Lila's powers to suck away a whole grip of people. They wanted that initial 'bang' when what Beast described happened, the energy surge from the X-Gene mixing with what they injected into her. My guess is they didn't care what happened next."
"Valid theory," Hank clicked a key and a schematic starring me and my vital signs and tests from the last few weeks flashed on the screen. "As I said, they each received only the one dose of the compound. Multiple injections would have complicated matters infinitely. Young Guthrie's body is fighting, working to heal itself, our next step is to devise a treatment to remove the peptides and restore your powers."