By Empress 

Series:  Third of the Falling Apart Together series, following Piano: Denial.

Summary: Cyclops and Rogue further their relationship.

Rating: NC17 – for smuttage.

Categories: X3, AU

Characters:  Cyclops/Rogue

Genres: Angst, Adult, Shipper

Warnings:  Overall story warning, not necessarily specific to this chapter - grief and loss issues.  Character death. 
Author's Notes 1:  I tried writing smut in first person.  Uhm…yeah.  Ain't gonna happen.
Author's Notes 2:  I hate Jean.  Hasn't changed.

Distribution: The Wayside Inn, Empress' Private Library, and Lady Scriven's only.  All others ask first.

Disclaimer: I own no one.  Alas, that means Logan belongs to Marvel too, so I can't keep him.  But I'd be happy as all hell to Wolvie-sit should it ever be necessary.  *eg*

Closed off from love
I didn't need the pain
Once or twice was enough
And it was all in vain
Time starts to pass
Before you know it you're frozen
But something happened
For the very first time with you
My heart melts into the ground
Found something true
And everyone's looking round
Thinking I'm going crazy

Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis

The next morning…
 

She was gone when he awoke. Lifting his head from the pillow, he glanced around the room to see it as empty as it had been every morning for the past six months. With a groan he dropped his face back into the downy softness and waited for the guilt to settle in. Yet, it didn't come.

He lay there and waited a few more minutes, curling his arms under him and pushing upward so he flopped over onto his back, his ruby quartz sleep-goggles pointed up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, lifted a hand to pull the eyewear from his head. Eyes still closed, he reached over to lay them on the bedside table, opened the drawer, reached inside and withdrew the much more comfortable sunglasses. Almost with an audible sigh, he slid them into place and opened his eyes.

Red.

Burgundy. Crimson. Rose. Pink.

Everything was bathed in that reddish glow that he'd been dealing with for almost as long as he could remember. So long that he'd almost forgotten what colors other than various shades of red looked like.

I wish I could see your eyes.

He heard Rogue's voice echo through his memory. She wanted to see his eyes and he wanted to could kiss her properly without fear of injury. Quite a pair they were, he thought. But he'd take happiness where he could find it. Last night, he'd found it with the beautiful young woman who up until a few hours ago had lain in his arms. And he already had an idea or two on how to get around her mutation, should she be interested in a repeat performance.

He smiled and scratched absently at his chest. He certainly hoped she would be. A secret smile curved his lips.  He hadn't let her leave, staying awake well into the night, showing her that he wasn't in the slightest bit afraid of her skin.  Any of it.  Anywhere.  A sigh slipped from his lips. He finally felt like he'd been thrown a lifeline. Not just from the sex with Rogue, although that had been phenomenal. But because she cared for him. And by doing so, it seemed to ease the anguish and guilt he'd felt ever since Jean's death.

This time the twist of anguish did hit him. He loved Jean. Missed Jean. The rational part of his mind said he always would on some level. But he wasn't ready to die with her anymore. He wasn't foolish enough to say he was in love with Rogue. But he did love her, in his own way - as much as he was capable of. She'd been a friend for a long time. He cared about her. He enjoyed her company, and there certainly wasn't an issue with sexual attraction. She wasn't going to take Jean's place in his life, he told himself.

Still…

His mouth twisted sourly as self-recrimination crept into his thoughts. He'd taken advantage of her, he accused silently. She was a friend and a co-worker. She'd come to him, hoping to comfort, and instead, he'd taken her into his bed. Nearly taken her up against the wall, only moving them to the bed when he needed to cover part of his own skin and retrieve a condom to keep her mutation from killing him. 

Yeah, he grinned bitterly.  He'd always joked about dying because the sex was so good, but with Rogue, it wasn't a joke.  It was a legitimate concern.  And he'd be lying to himself if that little charge he got whenever he brushed her skin accidentally hadn't felt damn good.  Too good, almost.  He sighed.  The danger involved in making love to her was a hellacious aphrodisiac. 

Disgusted with himself, he vaulted up out of the bed and reached back to jerk the covers up when he stopped cold. He stared down at the bed and almost didn't believe what he was seeing. But then he had to. Nothing else made any sense.

"Oh Christ," he whispered staring at the dark stain on the pinkish looking sheets that he knew were supposed to be white. That stain could only mean one thing. Rogue had been a virgin when he all but forced himself on her last night.

"Son of a bitch!" he swore, slamming his fist into the night stand. Cursing himself more vehemently, he struggled into his jeans, shirt, boots, and jacket, heedless of how tousled he looked.

He had to find her. Make it up to her. God, he couldn't stomach the thought of losing her friendship over this. He had to make it right somehow. And he firmly pushed the whisper of her possibly being reluctant to do it again anytime soon to the back of his mind.  Their friendship was more important.  It was, damn it.

With that thought in mind, he hit the door like a freight train hoping he could find her in the dining room. She wasn't there. He glanced at his watch and saw he was earlier than he expected. Covering a smile, he went back into the kitchen. "Marjorie?" he asked, directing his question to the cook. "I need a favor."

"Anything for you, bright eyes, you know that," the older lady winked at him. "Whatcha need?" As he outlined his plan to her, Marjorie's smile grew wider with each passing breath. When he was done, she patted his arm. "You go on and get your things together. By the time you get done, I'll have everything packed up. Go on, now."

Grinning, he kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Marjorie. You're terrific."

"And don't you forget it!"

"As if you'd let me," he retorted while walking backwards out of the door.

"Oh, that young man best thank his lucky stars I'm not thirty years younger." Laughing she watched him leave, wondering what lovely young woman had put the sparkle back in that boy's smile. Because only a special lady made a man smile like that.

Fifteen minutes later found him waiting at the bottom of the stairs leading from the dormitories into the main hallway. Presently the heard of footsteps preceding hungry students thundered overhead, and it wasn't long before the air around him was echoing with loud chatter as the students filed past on their way to the dining room.

Glancing upwards, he saw Rogue at the top of the staircase, stacks of folders clutched in front of her, chatting with Jubilee as she came down the steps. He waited until she was halfway down.

"Rogue. I'd like a word with you."

The chatter around them quieted substantially and concerned eyes danced between them by those students who wanted to know what was going on, but not foolish enough to stop and stare. She slowed to a stop on the bottom step as Jubilee did the same.

Scot turned the unrelenting ruby quartz lenses on her with his best stern glare. "This doesn't concern you, Jubliee."

She cocked her hip and jutted out her chin at him. "You gonna yell at her again?"

Pursing his lips to cover his grin, he looked over the pretty Asian girl's head to glance at Rogue who was having difficulty hiding her smile as well. Then he turned a blank look back at the young woman in front of him. "What I discuss with Rogue, and at what volume, isn't any of your business, Jubilee."

"Hey, fearless leader or not, you just can't -"

"Jubes!"  Rogue interrupted, shocked that she'd take Scott on like that.  Regardless of what her friend didn't know about the two of them, he was still their team leader and deserving of more respect than she was allowing him.

Scott held up a hand, his frown growing more legitimate.  "Jubilee, perhaps I didn't make myself clear before."  He leaned in just a bit and lowered his voice so it was a gruff whisper.  "Mind your own business before you find yourself on training uniform laundry duty.  For a month."

Her dark eyes narrowed in disgust at being responsible for collecting all of the soiled training uniforms along with all the used towels and bath cloths, and delivering them to the laundry.  Not to mention the folding, and distributing of said clothing.  But it just wasn't right, the way he'd torn into her best bud the other day.  "You wouldn't."

His frown grew.  "Would.  And will.  Effective today."

"Scott!" she wailed.

"Want to try for two months?"

 Two spots of color appeared in her cheeks.  She gave him a lowly muttered, sullen, "No."

"Then I suggest you get into the dining room before you miss breakfast then, shouldn't you?" 

She turned to leave, but with a defiant gleam in her eye, she squeezed Rogue's covered arm reassuringly.  "Buck up, Chica.  You need me, you holla.  And I'll come running, complete with fireworks."  She turned a nasty glare back on her team leader.  "No matter how much punishment I rack up.  Capiche?"

"Jubilee, so help me -" Scott started with a growl.

"I hear you, Jubes," Rogue interrupted quickly.  "And I'll be fine.  Go on.  I'll catch up with you later today."

"Humph!"  With a snort and a snap of her fingers she pivoted on one heel, her ebony ponytail swishing flamboyantly and stalked away.

Rogue smiled slightly as her friend all but strutted away.  "Sorry.  She gets a little overzealous sometimes."

"Pain in the ass is more like it," he murmured quietly as he entwined her fingers with his, holding her hand low by his hip, keeping their contact just out of eye-range for any passersby.  "Protective though.  Not necessarily a bad trait."

Rogue's stomach flipped over in her middle as his thumb gently caressed her satin-covered palm. "Mmmm, yeah, a little. She's been like that ever since…" she trailed off looking a little embarrassed.

He turned to face her, stepping closer. "Since?"

"Since Stryker," she all but whispered, searching his face, not wanting to cause any undue distress. She saw none.

Scott nodded. "How badly was she treated?" Tugging on her hand, he turned them away from the direction everyone else had taken and instead led her down the hall towards the main entrance.

"Bad enough."

He made a low rumbling sound.  "She needs to talk to someone."

"She will when she's ready."

He turned a small frown on her.  "Maybe the Professor-"

But Rogue shook her head.  "Scott, this isn't something she can discuss with a man.  Much less an older man.  No, she'll talk when she's ready.  Probably to Storm."

"You sure?"

"As I can be," she nodded, then fell silent.  She often wondered how he handled also being captured by the deranged mercenary determined to wipe out the mutant population. But he wouldn't talk about it and she didn't push. Just like she didn't with Jubilee. Like she knew she wouldn't with Logan whenever he came home. They'd all tell her eventually, as long as she let them talk about it in their own time. They always did.

"Hold up a second," she called softly as they passed in front of the side hallway that led to the school's main offices.

"It's Saturday, Rogue. Tell me you didn't plan to work today."

"Ah, actually I did." She blushed prettily at the look on his face. "Well, I made those plans before…and you didn't say anything about…" Cheeks flaming she just stopped talking, letting the unspoken question hang heavily in the air between them.

He let it rest there for a moment before answering. "Charles won't mind if you take the day off. He'd probably insist on it. And so would I."

Her smile lit up again. "At least let me at least stop by my office and set these on my desk?" She jostled the files in her arms, reminding him.

He nodded reluctantly, and led her down the hallway towards the school offices. Rogue wasted no time in shifting the files to her hip, unlocking her office door, ducking inside to drop them on her desk, and dashing back out. Scott stopped her before she could relock the office door.

"You have a jacket or sweater in there? You might want to grab it."

Nodding, she stepped back inside long enough to retrieve the heavy wool sweater she kept behind the door. Securing the office, she shrugged into her sweater, stopping as she felt Scott's hands on her shoulders. Standing very still, she fought a sigh as his hands dipped inside the neckline to scoop her hair out to lay flat down her back, shivering at the mild electric charge as his fingers grazed the skin on her neck.

Without a word, he held out his hand for her, waiting until she took it. Rogue glanced around them, to find them completely alone in the hallway. She slid her hand into his. "So what made you get up so early this morning?"

His lips twisted a little as again led them towards the front door. "Couldn't sleep."

"Oh?" she teased.

"Nope. Too cold."

"Ah," she nodded. "They've got a solution to that now, so I hear."

"Really?" he bantered back.

Nodding, Rogue grinned. "Mmm-hmm. It's a simple fix, called closin' the window."

"I can think of one better."

"Can you?"

"Oh yeah," he pushed open the front door and led her out to the main drive, where his bike was waiting for them. "An armful of you is a perfect heat source."

She shook her head. "Not available to just anyone."

"A special case, am I then?"

"Absolutely."

Stopping beside the bike, he pulled her into his arms, lacing his fingers together behind her. She could feel his eyes searching her face behind his glasses. "You left without saying goodbye."

Her smile turned shy. "You were sleepin'."

"So?"

"You've not been doin' that much of it, and I thought you needed it." Her cheeks heated again, and she shrugged. "Besides, I liked watchin' you sleep."

He digested her words and found a warm spot growing in his chest at her admission. He wished he could have seen her sleeping now too. "I still didn't like waking up alone."

"I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

"I have one or two ideas." Slowly, he dipped his head down, and moved his lips against hers, just barely touching her, before he pulled away, and gave a shudder that she could feel in his embrace. "Good morning."

"Mornin'," she answered back, a broad smile on her face as she stared up at him.

He frowned down at her. "How are you…ah…feeling?"

She laughed lightly at the blush creeping across his face. She snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Wonderful."

A furrow appeared on his brow. "Rogue, you hadn't…ah, I mean, before last night, you never…uhm…"

"Scott," she laid her forehead on his chest, muffling her laughter for a moment before lifting her gaze back to smile at him. "I'm a little stiff and achy, but it's no worse if I'd spent the day ridin'." At his bark of laughter, her face flamed and she punched his ribs. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He nodded and grinned at her. She almost cried seeing it. "You up for another ride this morning?"

Her eyebrow shot skywards as she asked, "On the motorcycle?"

His grin broadened into a leer, "For starters, maybe."

"With you?"

"Of course with me. You think I'd let you drive my bike?"

"Oh, I dunno," she grinned feeling giddy enough to tease him a bit. "You let Logan drive it."

"Logan stole it. Big difference." He released her and then threw one leg over, settling himself on the seat. He frowned at her. "You coming with me or what?"

Nodding, she slid on behind him. "No helmets?"

"Nah. We're not going too far," he answered, firing it up as she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek between his shoulder blades. "Hold on tight, now."

With a squall of tires, he peeled out from under the portico and laid some serious rubber down the paved drive. They rode for only about fifteen minutes once out on the open road leading out of Westchester. Presently he slowed the bike and pulled off onto a side road and rode sedately through a wooded area that eventually opened up to a spectacular view of the lake that bordered the school's property.

Scott parked the bike and helped Rogue off the back of it, then grabbed his duffle from behind her seat. "Come on."

"Where are we goin'?" she asked, but didn't really care. All she cared about was she was with him, her hand in his. He'd sought her out. Nothing else mattered beyond that.

He turned those red glasses on her and flashed a smile that she'd not seen for far too long. "Thought you might like to have breakfast in private. Without all of those questioning eyes staring at us."

Rogue didn't try to hide her smile as he spread out and old blanket from the duffle he'd brought with them. Pulling her down beside him, he pulled out a thermos and a bag filled with bits of ham, sausage and eggs stuffed into the flaky crescent rolls they usually had a breakfast. He passed her the bag as she pulled out a roll for him and one for her. Scott poured the contents of the thermos into the cap, then passed it to her.

"Bon appetite."

Giggling a little she took the cap without looking at it, too mesmerized by the smile on his face. "Coffee?"

He shook his head. "Hot chocolate. I seem to have developed a fondness for it."

Shyly she took a sip and licked a stray drop off her bottom lip. "Mmmm. Perfect."

"I agree," his voice had turned husky, causing her stomach to drop. She looked up to see his smile gone, his gaze trained on her mouth.

Without another word, he took the cap from her, and set it aside out of harms way, then did the same with their food. Leaning back in towards her, he paused, his mouth hovering over hers before darting out his tongue and licking the last of the chocolate from her lips, moving away before the pull of her skin began.

"This is dangerous," she panted slightly, already feeling the growing desire between them.

"I know," he breathed hotly against her cheek. "That's part of what makes it so good." He started to dip back down for another taste.

She stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Be careful. I don't want to hurt you."

He smiled at her again, and her heart skipped several beats before starting up again, even faster than before. "I won't let you," he answered as he moved over her, urging her to lay back on the blanket as he cloaked her with his body.

Breakfast was cold when they finally got to it.

But neither of them really cared. 

-x- 

Oh, hearts are often broken
When there are words unspoken
In your soul there's, answers to your prayers
If you're searching for, a place you know
A familiar face, somewhere to go
You should look inside your soul
And you're half way there

Exhale - Whitney Houston 

Three weeks later…
 

Scott made the climb from the lower levels of the mansion via the stairs rather than taking the lift as he normally would have. He grinned to himself as he recalled the look on Charles' face when he left him at the elevator doors. The older man, sensing his protégé's impatience to see the young woman who'd caught his attention, had simply smiled at him and told him Rogue could be found in her office, and that he himself would be seeking out Ororo directly, who was currently in the atrium, on the opposite side from where Rogue would be.

Smirking at the sly look that had been in his mentor's eyes, Scott took the stairs two and three at a time until he was walking at a brisk clip down the hallway to the outer office of the headmaster, and Rogue's domain. He passed several students on their way to the cafeteria, as the dinner bell had sounded about the same time as he came up from the lower levels. Good, he thought. They'd be all alone.

Noting the wary looks cast his way from the student body, Scott slowed his pace. When had they started fearing him? He knew the answer, but didn't voice it. That time was past now. But he had given them something to fear for quite a while after Jean's death.

As usual, the sharp pain at the thought of his deceased fiancée made his breath catch and his heart twist, but he pushed it aside, again training his thoughts on dark eyes set in an incredibly pale face, with possibly the sweetest smile he'd ever seen.

Four days he and Charles had been gone to the summit at Camp David. He hated leaving her behind, but Charles was right. She was needed here to help Storm run the school smoothly in his absence, and after almost three years in her current position, there was no one more qualified to do that. Still, he'd have preferred it if she could have come with them.

He'd spoken with her every night on the phone, but that hadn't made up for not being at hand. To see her smile, hear her voice, feel her breath on his neck, holding her in his arms until she fell asleep, the way she would reach for him with her heart in her eyes, how she writhed under him…a low tightening settled over his pelvis and he quickened his steps. If nothing else, their enforced separation had brought it home that he wanted her closer. He'd definitely give the idea of moving in together more thought.

Automatically, his steps slowed as he reached her open office door. He could hear her on the telephone, and approached quietly to simply watch her for a few minutes.

Rubbing tiredly at spot on her temple, Rogue stifled a sigh at the intolerable muzak on the receiver held to her ear. Shifting in her chair, she kept her eyes on her planner, ticking tasks off the list of things she really needed to get done before the Professor and Scott got back.

She felt a swift stab of unclear emotion at the thought of the man she'd loved for so long, and with whom she had only recently begun a tenuous relationship. She missed him and couldn't wait to see him tomorrow when they got back.

He had seemed to be doing so much better since three weeks ago when she showed up at his door.  Even the Professor had remarked before their trip that he was pleased to see him smiling again, when he'd come upon them sitting together on the piano bench in the conservatory.  Scott had been trying to teach her how to play Heart and Soul and failing miserably, she remembered, grinning at the echoes of his low laughter in her mind.
 

She shifted again, feeling the nylon body stocking she wore under her crisp navy business suit glide against her skin. Scott had bought several of them for her and she'd taken to wearing them under her clothing nearly constantly. As it turned out, they were a perfect barrier for her mutation, yet thin enough that she could easily feel the texture and heat of his hands against her skin. She had several in various colors, but preferred the nude shade. Her eyebrow climbed upward. Scott seemed to like those best as well.

He'd ordered them specifically over the Internet, making sure they came up to her neck, and covered every inch of her from her chin to her toes, even including having matching gloves sewn in. Narrow strips of the softest satin she'd ever felt  ran through narrow reinforced eyelets and tied at the back of her neck, closing the back from her waist to her shoulders when pulled tight. Granted, it had taken some doing to figure out how to close them by herself in the mornings since he'd been gone, but she'd managed it. Nylon was a wonderfully stretchy material. And these were tougher than most, mixed in with a little Lycra for longevity.

The body stockings gave her a sense of freedom that she'd not had in years. An added bonus, they were crotchless, but she usually wore tiny lacy or silky panties over them. She smiled wickedly as a she remembered the night they'd discovered how well they worked.

God she missed him. He'd taken to sleeping in her room with her after their first time together. But he never stayed the night, often slipping away sometime before dawn, while she still slept. She gave a small sigh. Just once she'd like to wake up in his arms after the sun came up.

Maybe soon, she told herself. They'd been together for nearly a month, and with the exception of the Professor, they'd decided to keep their relationship secret. Scott's reasoning was to give them time to get comfortable with each other before alerting the rest of the team. She had to admit, he was right. Too many people on the team and staff at the school would probably take exception to how soon they had begun seeing one another after Jean's death.

She didn't care for herself, really. She was used to most people treating her like a leper due to her mutation. But Scott didn't deserve that. She sighed again. Why people had to be so damn judgmental, she didn't understand. You'd think those people who loved him and called him friend would want him to be happy. And from everything she'd seen he was happy with her.

Okay, so he'd never said he loved her. But she didn't expect that going in, intending at the time to be happy with whatever he was able to give her. They'd had almost four wonderful weeks and she certainly didn't intend on pushing for any declarations of love or plans for the future now.

But it would be awfully nice.

Luckily, she was saved from following that disastrous train of thought when the muzak in her ear suddenly cut off. "Is this Mrs. Claudia Polson?" she answered as the line crackled into the other end of the receiver. "Yes, ma'am. This is Professor Charles Xavier's assistant from Xavier's School for the Gifted. I'm sorry for calling you at work, but it's the only number you listed in your letter. Is this a bad time?"

She smiled. Calling at work was always tricky. "Excellent. As I'm sure you know, I'm calling in regards to the letter we received regarding your daughter Melody. Do you still wish to schedule a tour of the school? Yes, ma'am. When could you be here?" She flipped through the large desk calendar and stopped several pages in, running her finger down the page, stopping a few inches from the body. "School begins September fifth…yes, we can do midterm transfers. Yes ma'am, we also offer summer classes on a limited basis…oh. Well, then of course."

She flipped several pages back, and stopped, tapping a gloved finger on the page she was looking at. "Professor Xavier is free this Friday, if you'd like to come then." She paused again, listening to the other woman speak, clearly hearing the anxiety in her tone. Her brow furrowed. "Mrs. Polson, if you or your daughter is in danger, we'll be happy to help in anyway possible."

Scott perked up the minute her tone dropped, but then relaxed against the doorjamb as she smiled down at the desk. "Yes ma'am, I understand. Yes ma'am, children can be very hurtful. And while we don't promise she won't get her feelings hurt here, we do offer a nurturing, loving, family environment for our students, and teach them how to deal with their gifts among their fellow mutants as well as the rest of society if at all possible. Yes ma'am, we're equipped to handle a variety of special needs, given our student population. Ah, no ma'am. We recently lost our physician on staff but plan on filling the position as soon as possible. We can discuss any particulars your daughter's gifts may bring up when you visit us."

Her smile widened a little more and she even laughed a bit. "Of course. We welcome parents to visit as often as they like. So, when would be good for you?" She flipped forward a bit, stopping after only a few pages this time. Very good. So that is May nineteenth at ten o'clock. I'm sorry, what was that? Will I be here?"

A soft cough from the doorway forestalled any response and she glanced up only to have her heart slam into her feet. Leaning against the doorjamb in a deep blue button down shirt, tie loosened, crisp black trousers, with powerful forearms crossed over his chest, stood the man of her most recent lustful thoughts. He quirked a grin at her, his ruby-quartz glasses trained on her with an intensity that made her squirm in her chair.

Scott whispered, "No, you won't be here May nineteenth."

"Ah yes ma'am…I'm still here. I apologize. I was momentarily distracted," she cast a glare in Scott's direction only to see him flash a smug smile. "And no, I'm sorry to say I won't be here that weekend." She glanced back up at the walking wet dream in the doorway, watching as he mouthed vacation. "I'll be on vacation.  Of course, if you have any questions, feel free to call us and I'll be happy to help you. Rogue. Yes ma'am. Just Rogue. Thank you, Mrs. Polson, and Professor Xavier will look forward to seeing you on May nineteenth. Have a good day."

Scott chuckled at her. "If Charles ever changes his mind about commercial advertising, I know exactly who I'm going to suggest represent us on television. You're a natural, baby. Very good." He applauded softly.

With precise movements, she replaced the receiver into the handset and looked up at him. "You're home early."

He nodded. "Thought I'd surprise you."

"It worked." She grinned saucily. "Stopping by to give me your notes from the summit?"

He pushed off the doorjamb and strolled causally into her office, closing and locking the door behind him.  "That isn't why I'm here."

The sexy promise in his eyes, combined with the purposeful internet in his voice, sent her pulse rate careening straight into the danger zone. A hunger that nothing to do with food, despite the approaching dinner hour, awakened in a flash, stirring her blood with anticipation. By the time he reached her side of the desk, her panties were drenched.

"Then why are you here?" She didn't much care if he had an ulterior motive, just so long as he fulfilled a fantasy or two.

He crossed behind her desk and reached for her. "I missed my girlfriend," he said and hauled her out of the chair and right into his arms.

Before she could utter a sound, he plucked the swatch of nylon from her breast pocket, draped it across her lips and his mouth clamped over hers in a kiss so hot she considered a miracle they didn't burst into flames. His hands smoothed over her back, glancing down her spine, running up her sides then back down again to cup her bottom and pull her tight against him.

Oh, God, I've missed you too.

She pulled her mouth from his, allowing the nylon to fall to rest on her cleavage and gasped, "Girlfriend?"

There it was that brilliant smile that made her weak in the knees and made her a slick mess between her legs. "Well, yeah," he panted, looking down at her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face, and too close to make out her reflection in the red lenses covering his eyes. "Why so surprised?"

Feeling suddenly shy she ducked her head, letting her white stripes fall forward to shield her eyes. She shrugged. "You've never said…"

Strong fingers carefully tucked a white lock behind her ear, and then slid down to curl under her chin, the sinfully soft kidskin of the black gloves he word causing erotic shivers to race through her at the contact. He tipped her face up. "I didn't think I had to. I thought you knew…" At her hesitant headshake, he smiled again. "Then let me make it a little more clear."

This time he traced her mouth with his tongue with no barrier between them. Rogue immediately stiffened, expecting him to pour into her and start to convulse, but he didn't. He dipped in for a deeper taste, fastening his lips to hers, his tongue slipping between them gently, and the tingles of desire raced headfirst into a bonfire of lust racing through her. Then her mutation kicked in and she could feel him in her mind, flooding her emotions first. Then he pulled away, breathing heavily, swaying into the side of her desk, resting there, but not releasing her.

"Oh Scott…" she wanted to cry from the loss of contact, but she was glad he ended the kiss when he did. Her eyes were burning, and she knew without having to see them that they were probably glowing red a little, if not a lot. The pressure building behind them was uncomfortable, but even as she thought that, the pressure started to wane, the burning to fade.

Then she felt it. The itching of a new presence. She could feel him in her head. He wasn't as strong as the others in residence. But he had definitely left his signature there. And the feelings he was trying to convey through his kiss... she melted against him, feeling how much he had missed her. How much he did care for her, and now knowing she had a firm anchor in his heart made most of her fears disappear. He did love her. Even if he couldn't say it, not yet.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. "That's how you feel?"

He curled a slightly weak fist into her hair, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply, drawing her scent deep into his lungs, feeling his strength returning bit by bit. Dropping her hair, he wrapped her in his arms and held on tightly, and whispered, "Yeah, I do."

She pulled away just a bit and smiled up at him with shining eyes, watering just a bit as the last of the lingering burn faded into nothing. "I love you, too."

"Thank God," he groaned, stroking one hand down the side of her head, letting his fingers trail further down her shoulder and arm, then skimming down the side of her breast, coming to stop at her hip.

She flashed him a sultry look as his color returned and his breathing had leveled out. "Feeling rested now?"

He took her hand and brought it to rest, cupping his groin through his dress slacks. "What do you think?"

Her lashes dropping half-mast, she exhaled slowly, "I think that rest is the last thing on your mind right now."

His lips parted into at gorgeous smile once again as he retrieved the forgotten scrap of nylon still resting in her cleavage and draped it across her lips. "Intelligent, and observant as well as beautiful. Now that's a turn on."

Waiting no further, he claimed her mouth again. She sank her gloved fingers into his thick, silky hair and moved against him, brushing against the wide, hard expanse of his chest. Her breasts tingled and swelled, her nipples beading into tight sensitive peaks. She ached for his touch, for the feel of his large warm hands cupping her, for the velvety softness of his tongue suckling her, pulling her into his mouth.

Defiantly, she buried the uncertainty of their future for the immediacy of simply being in Scott's arms. Freeing her mind of everything but the steady rush of heat pulsing in her veins, she welcomed the sharp need tugging low in her belly. For once, she didn't stop to question the inevitable, but reached for the moment and refused to relinquish her hold.

Her senses vibrated with every sound, every touch. The rustle of fabric, their ragged breathing. Scott's hands on her ass, lifting her onto the edge of her desk, the rattle of her chair being shoved aside. The sounds of papers and planners hitting the floor. The urgency of their hands, his lifting her skirt, removing her panties as his hands skimmed the nylon covered skin around the opening in the body stocking she was wearing beneath her suit. Her hands occupied themselves with tugging down the zipper to free him from the confines of his trousers. Sliding her hand through the slit in his boxers, he groaned when her sheer covered fingers gripped him tightly, drawing his cock out through the opening.

"I'm really beginning to like the feel of those new gloves," he groaned as she began to pump him slowly, the slide and drag of the sheer nylon gloves she wore setting his skin on fire.

He scooted her bottom closer to the edge of the desk, and parted her legs. He raised his hand to grasp the fingers of his kidskin glove between his teeth and pull it off, revealing latex covered fingers.

She spied it and laughed lowly. At his curious expression she grinned. "One of the things I love about you. Always prepared."

"Baby, I've been thinking about this all day." With a low rumble, he separated her folds to slowly ease his fingers inside her.

"Me t-…oh god," she fell away into a drawn out moan as he curled his fingers upward. Exquisite sensation exploded. Her hand tightened around his shaft, growing even more impossibly thick as she mimicked the long, slow thrusts of his finger.

Their gazes locked. Tension coiled tight. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out so they wouldn't be discovered by anyone who might still be lingering in the hallways beyond the closed doors after the school offices were closed for the night. He deepened his touch and she was powerless to prevent the low, earthy moan from escaping.

The crackle of plastic brought her gaze to the hand that wasn't currently trying to make her eyes cross to see him holding a condom package between his fingers. Releasing him, she took it, raised it to her teeth and ripped it open, flicking the package away. With deft fingers, she rolled it down the length of him, resuming her easy slow strokes once the edges of it reached the root of him.

With her hand still on his cock, she braced her other hand behind her and wrapped her legs around his waist. Guiding him to her, she teased the head with the pad of her thumb, then by smoothing him over her feminine flesh, slick with need. His cock flexed in her hand. Passion etched clearly on his face, he removed her hand. Her breath caught, then expelled on a soft moan when he slid deep inside her.

Bracing her hands behind her, she used the desk to support her weight and she tightened her legs around him, then lifted her hips, riding the hot length of him. She set the pace, slow and easy until she needed more, more heat, more of him, then rode him faster and harder, taking every long, thick inch of him inside her until every muscle in her body strained in protest. She slowed, but he took over and quickened the tempo, holding her still and driving them closer to the edge of release.

The pressure inside her climbed, spiraling higher and higher until he sent her soaring. She flew apart and waves of intense pleasure slammed into her so hard she couldn't breathe. A cry tore from her lips, matching the guttural groan torn from him as he pushed in as deeply as he could, locking his hips into hers and held her there as he rode out his own release.

She clung to him, struggling for breath, willing her heart rate to slow, and in that one instant as she worshiped his face with her gaze while he emptied himself into the condom separating them, she realized with a sudden burst of clarity that the question of their future had never fully been hers to answer. Her heart had already made that decision nearly four years before - the night she had first known that she loved him.

Scott cupped her face in his hands, and lightly swept his lips across hers, and she savored the tingle that always accompanied that faint brush of contact before her mutation kicked in. Sweet, tender, and so full of emotion that her heart gave a sudden lurch.

The question wasn't whether or not they loved each other - in that respect, she had no doubts, for her feelings were laid out with stark clarity, and she knew that he loved her as well, as best he could - but rather if he would continue to feel for her the way he did now, and allow it to grow, or would he find once his grieving process was over that he'd merely feel something akin to gratitude to her before he moved on to someone else.

He ended the kiss and lifted his head, her introspection having taken mere seconds to wash away the warm glow that his earlier declaration - such as it was - had given her. The deep emotions reflected on his face gave her hope and terrified her all at the same time. 

-x- 

I had a dream late last night
The water was running low
And my fields were on fire, burning my sky
My body was moving slow
And when I awoke I tasted the sweat of desire in my mouth
And I realized my heart had abducted my mind
And they were last seen headed south
Now I can't sleep I'm so wired
And I find myself screaming out
Don't you need don't you want
Can't you taste it when you're alone
Don't you cry don't you feel
Sometimes I wonder if you are real
Don't you bleed
Don't you need

Don't You Need - Melissa Etheridge 

Another month later…
 

Terror propelled her up the bed where her head cracked against the wall.  A hand touched her shoulder, a chest pressed against her side and her breath ran out before her scream. 

"Rogue, it's me.  Rogue."

She gasped as she struggled against him, the voice familiar but it was dark and her heart pounded so hard it hurt her chest.

"Shh, Rogue, baby, its okay," the voice came again accompanied this time by the click of the bedside lamp and suddenly the room was awash in a soft, gentle glow.

Her covered fingers released the blanket and grabbed onto Scott's shoulders.  He groaned as she forced him closer, needing to feel him, to make him real.  He touched her hair, her side, and she pulled as if she could climb right inside him.

"It's okay; it's all right," he said, over and over, until the words made since and she didn't feel as if she were going to die.

Her nose found his hair and she breathed him in, and still he wasn't near enough.  Her hand went to his neck, her leg wrapped around his hips and she needed him so much.

Her hand moved from his chest to his waist, to the panic of getting him naked.  He went to help and she shoved him away.  She reached inside his pajamas to find him hard and ready. 

"Rogue," he said, his voice a coarse growl, sounding breathless.

"Don't," she said.  "Don't say no."

"You had a nightmare, baby.  You're scared."

She held him in her fist, almost squeezing.  "Damn right I'm scared.  You were almost killed today.  Both of us could have been.  It could all be over in a heartbeat.  And that thought terrifies me."

"Stop it," he said.  "You're not going to die.  I'm not going to let you die.  I can't lose you too."

She stroked him with one hand, while the other fumbled at the nightstand for a condom.  When she couldn't touch him and find one at the same time she gave whimper of frustration and released him, scrambling with both hands for the necessary item, desperate to have him inside her.

"Rogue, wait."

"No."

"I'm not leaving you, I swear to God I'm not.  Just slow down and take a breath."

"I can't!" she cried as she pulled the drawer completely out of the nightstand in her haste, dumping the contents and the drawer itself on the floor.

"I'm not going anywhere, I told you," he said, his hand circling her wrist, his fingers rubbing the sheer film of nylon that separated him from her.  "I just want you to slow down, baby.  We can do whatever you want.  But let's take our time, okay?"

Even with the glow of the lamp, it was dark, so she couldn't see his face very well, and she couldn't tell if he was mad.  He didn't sound it.  She pulled away from him completely, kicking off the smothering blankets.  He propped himself up on one elbow, wearing only his boxers, hard cock jutting fiercely from the flap at the crotch, his the ruby quartz goggles designed for sleeping firmly in place over his eyes.  Completely covered from chin to fingertips and toes in one of the nylon body stockings he'd bought her, she wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.  But she was so afraid that it wouldn't be laughter at all.

Scott was right, she had been dreaming.  They'd been on that day's mission again.  Only in this version, she'd not seen the red dot on his chest before it was too late.  Instead of knocking him clear as she had earlier that day, in the dream she'd not gotten to him in time. Scott had fallen over her body, dead, and his blood had been hot and thick, soaking into her uniform, her hair...her skin.  She had climbed across his body, shielding him from more shots, pressing her hands deep into the gaping hole in his chest, when she looked down to see her gloves had disappeared and she had both bare hands pressed against his wound.

The blood started flowing upward and out of him and into her, she could see the crimson streams crawling up her arms and he was turning greyer by the minute. He began to cough, sending bloody bubbles running from the corner of his mouth. She pressed down harder on his chest, leaned over and laid her mouth on his. Instantly his blood leapt from his body and crawled into her skin, staining her mouth and face crimson with it. Startled, she'd pulled back to see a dried husk, like he'd burned alive from the inside out. Then he simply wasn't there any more, leaving in his stead a pile of ashes that swirled up in the breeze and flew into her nose and mouth, choking the very breath from her lungs.

Horrified she'd started screaming and the sound of his voice woke her, to find her safe in his bed, in his arms, very much alive and warm to the touch. Not a bloody mess. Not a dry husk. Not ashes. Not choking her.

Why couldn't she stop shaking?  Scott was alive, and the blood wasn't staining her hands and face like it had in the dream, so why did she feel as if she were going to be sick if she didn't do something right now?

He touched her shoulder, making her start.  "Rogue?"

"Hold me?"

He nodded. "Of course, baby. You never have to ask for that." He moved over her so he was sitting beside her.  His legs touched hers and he discretely tucked himself back into his boxers.  She leaned over, pressing herself against the hard leanness of his body.

She nodded, and his hand gentled.  She was trembling so badly, the terror of the nightmare having sunk its talons deeply into her brain, she surged upward, not remembering her lips were bare, and laid claim to his mouth.

If he hadn't kissed her back, she would have cried until the ocean turned to dust, but he did.  He quickly reversed the dominance of the kiss, wrestling control away from her.  He kissed her hard and deep.  He thrust into her mouth, his tongue rigid and thick, and she captured him between her teeth and sucked hard, making him moan and push up with his hips. 

What she needed was Scott, just Scott.  Only him and no one else.  Her hand went under the sheet to touch his warm skin through the sheer netting over her hand.  She pressed her palm over his heart but she couldn't find the beat.

Tearing her mouth from his, she released him only to have him collapse heavily against her, his breath coming in shallow pants.  Otherwise, he was still.  Too still.  Panicked, she placed a gloved hand on either side of his head and lifted. 

Breathing.  He was breathing.  She hadn't killed him.  He wasn't ashes.  She'd not drained him.  Not completely.  He was alive.  Carefully, she pushed at him until he flopped over onto his back where he lay staring up at the ceiling.

An intense burning behind her eyes shot a lance of fear through her.  Glancing swiftly over at the lamp, sure enough, the bulb now had a reddish cast.  She'd stolen his mutation.  Or at least some of it.  "Scott?  Honey?"

"Your…eyes…" he panted weakly, looking up at her.  "They're…glowing…"  Acting on impulse, with a weak, trembling hand, he grasped his goggles awkwardly and wrenched them downward.

"Scott, no don't -"  Rogue's cry cut off in mid sentence as the burning behind her eyes leveled off to a tolerable plateau, and she watched almost horror struck to see clear blue eyes struggling to focus on her.

"My God…you're breathtaking…" he spoke in awe, as he ran his fingers through her chestnut mane, tangling in the shocking white strands framing her face.

"Scott…they're blue…" Rogue answered, unable to tear her gaze from the deep blue, clear orbs staring back at her.  "So beautiful…"

They had perhaps thirty seconds of this incredible gift wrought by a careless moment and her mutation.  The couple stared in silence at one another.  Scott drank in the sight of Rogue as she was, without the customary reddish hue thanks to his own powers.  He savored the taste of her on his lips, and in his mouth from that one proper kiss that he'd wished for weeks previous.  He smiled.  She'd gotten her wish too.  She'd been able to see his eyes without getting blasted into atoms.

He continued to stare at her.  While he watched, the red swirling glow in her eyes began to fade to brown, and a tell-tale burning sensation began to build behind his own.  "Baby, my goggles."

Reacting swiftly as she mourned the deep blue of his iris' darkening to a glowing crimson and begin to swirl, even as her own reddish tint faded, she grasped the goggles around his neck and slid them back up quickly over his eyes.  She even adjusted the strap around his head that kept them in place while he slept.

Feeling his strength beginning to return slowly, he jostled his arm, fingers scrabbling for hers.  Wrapping her fingers around his, she curled his hand between her breasts, holding it tightly against the nylon.

"Come here, baby," he spoke tenderly, a husky timbre to his voice. 

With a shudder and a sound that faintly resembled a squelched sob, she lay down on his chest, cuddling up to him, his hand still tucked firmly in hers, her free fingers toying lightly with the tuft of brown hair between his pecs.  Scott moved his fingers soothingly up and down her side, his motions growing stronger with each pass. 

His hands were so warm.  If she just focused on his touch, she'd be okay.  She'd stop trembling. She'd stop shaking. The dream would fade and everything would be normal again. Only she wasn't stopping. The dread and the terror weren't fading. Instead it was lingering, shrinking smaller, but not losing intensity. She likened it to a snake coiling in on itself, alert, wary, deadly, preparing to strike. But it just waited there…and somewhere far in the recesses of her mind she could hear Eric laughing.

Scott's arm slipped around her shoulder, and then, with his other hand, he touched her cheek.  Just briefly, just skimming it, not long enough for the pull to begin again.  He was so tender, she cried out.  Tears came then, and he kept stroking her back, whispering soft words that meant nothing and everything.  She tried to stop, but there was no stopping.  The tears poured out of her, wracking sobs that shook her so she didn't feel the old trembling at all.  Scott brought her close but never stopped touching her.

Finally, she was empty.  The only thing holding her together was the arm around her shoulder, the touch of coarse fingers on the nylon covering her skin.  She looked up into his face, and even though he was positioned in front of the small lamp, casting him into shadow, and there were shadows all around her, she saw the kindness and affection on his face.  He knew.  He understood.

With easy, gentle motions, he retrieved one of her more sheer scarves from where it was wrapped loosely around his bedpost, and draped it tenderly across her mouth.  He came toward her slowly, still patient and watching until his lips brushed hers through the whisper-thin fabric.  The panic was over and now she understood his caution.  This is what she'd wanted all along.  To be close.  To be cared for.  He kissed her more deeply, letting her know that there was no rush, that she was safe.  Only when she parted her lips did she feel his desire, hot and sweet on her tongue. 

For a long time they just kissed.  As the seconds drifted by, everything outside faded and she felt herself relax deep inside.  When her hand went to his thigh, he didn't try to stop her.  She stretched her fingers out but they didn't reach all the way across.  He could feel them trembling against his leg.

Enough was enough, he decided. "Move in with me."

"What? Even after what just happened?"

"Yeah, especially after what just happened.  Rogue, I can handle your mutation as long as we're careful and we don't hold on too long.  Yeah, you pack a hell of a punch.  But look at what we know now.  Your skin takes mutant powers first, then the life-force.  I say it gives us an edge that we know that."

She searched his face.  "I don't want to hurt you.  If something ever happened to you it would drive me insane.  Or kill me one."

"I'm not saying we should be careless.  Because we shouldn't.  But now that we know what it does, we can work around it," he replied convincingly, sounding more like himself after the long moments of rest thanks to her crying jag.  "So what do you say?  Move in with me?"

Her dark eyes narrowed.  "Why?"

"Oh, baby, I'd have thought you understood by now."  He smiled lovingly at her.  "I want you with me all the time. I want yours to be the first face I see when I wake up in the morning and the last one before I go to sleep at night. Plus, your bed is too small."

A nervous laugh escaped her, "Only because you try to sleep diagonally, leaving me a little corner of the mattress and that's it."

"You can always sleep on top of me," he teased.

"Then neither of us would get any sleep."  Her grin faltered a moment.  "Scott, are you sure?  I mean that would take us public. "

"I want to make us public knowledge, baby.  Besides, it's not like people don't already suspect.  I can't keep my hands off you anymore.  And I don't want to have to try."

"Mmmm," she hummed noncommittally.  "The Professor would like us to stop hiding, I think.  He's beaming so much around us lately that you'd think he'd just been told he's going to be a grandfather."

Scott stilled immediately.  With a hesitant touch, he laid his palm over her abdomen and was silent for some time.  He simply lay there, stroking the nylon covering her stomach. 

Rogue tried to speak and couldn't, nervous that she'd somehow upset him.

When he finally spoke it was a quiet, "Maybe some day."

"Scott…" she whispered, her eyes huge in her face and her voice barely audible.

"But yeah, I'm ready to take us public."  He commented like the previous moment had never happened and nodded slowly.  "I'm dying to tell Bobby the next time he puts his hands on my girl, I'm practice my ice liquefying technique.  On him."

Laughing, she slapped playfully at his shoulder.  "You're as bad as Logan."

"No."  He shook his head.  "No mentions of Logan in our bed.  He doesn't belong in here."

"You're right.  I apologize." She smiled at him, completely missing the undercutting edge to his words.

Shifting upward onto one elbow, he gazed down at her, a look so tender crossing his face that she felt tears prick at the backs of her eyes.  "Say yes, Rouge. Please.  Move in with me."

They were blue, she reminded herself, trying to pierce the unrelenting red lenses.  The deep blue of a Mississippi sky after a summer storm…the promise of a clear day to come.  "Yes," she whispered.

"Really?"

She nodded, "Yeah, really.  When?"

"Tomorrow.  First thing."

"I can't first thing.  I have to work, and so do you."

He shrugged, his smile brilliant in the soft glow of lamplight. "Then the day after."

She smiled shyly at him.  "You've got that day trip to Washington with the Professor, remember?"

Laughing he slid his arm under her shoulders, as he lay back down, his nose scant millimeters from hers.  "Baby, I don't care when.  As long as it's as soon as possible, I'll be happy.  And stay the night.  I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Okay," she answered softly, tipping her face back to brush her lips fleetingly across his before settling back against the pillows.

He smoothed her white locks away from her forehead, retrieved the sheer scarf and using it, kissed her again, a long, slow, deep kiss.  They sank together backward into the pillows.  Scott maneuvered them around until he lay on his back and she lay draped across him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.  He pulled the covers up to their waists.  Very old fashioned, she thought.  It was sweet.  She rested with her leg curled over his, touching as much of him as she could.

"It's late," he said.

"So?"

"You have to be exhausted. And you just reminded me you've got an early day tomorrow."

She moved her hand down to his cock.  Bless his long, lean, testosterone-laden body, he was still hard.  "Make love to me until I fall asleep."

He laughed again, smiling down at her.  "My pleasure." 

A moment later, he was over her, his legs between hers, his hands on either side of her head.  One kiss, fast, then a nibble on her chin.  Before she could even react, he'd moved down to her chest to her breasts, and his tongue painted slow circles around and around, coming near, but not touching her nipples, the nylon covering them just adding to the erotic sensations.  She reached for him, and tugged at his hair, letting him know that teasing was fine, but damn.

A quick study, he took her right nipple between his teeth, the nylon proving to be an efficient barrier for her mutation, but sheer enough so that it felt to her like it was almost not even there.  He didn't bite, but just held, and then licked and sucked until she was squirming and pulling his hair a lot harder.

He stopped but only long enough to torment her left nipple in the same dastardly fashion.  The only thing she could do was wrap her legs around his waist and ride it out.

By the time he'd moved down, she was ready.  As much as she loved the whole foreplay thing, that wasn't what she wanted now.  She pushed herself up by her elbows, and that got his attention.

"What?" he whispered, his voice thick.

"Please," she said.  "I want you in me."

He didn't move for a long moment, and she had the fleeting thought that he was going to ignore her, especially when he bent his head.  But all he did was kiss the top of her mound through the nylon then the top of each thigh.  He rose up, so tall, his shoulders so wide and strong.  His hands brushed her sides, moving slowly upward until he had to brace himself or fall. 

She'd never wanted like this before, she thought, making quick work of rolling on the condom he retrieved from his side of the bed.  She opened herself to Scott and when he pushed himself inside her, she felt something click deep in the recesses of her brain as he deliberately trailed a fingertip down her cheek, feeling the electric charge of her mutation begin to draw him in before he pulled away.  Then here he was, a warm, loving presence in the back of her mind.  She felt him smile a split-second before she saw it.  He recognized the look of surprise on her face.  He was truly a part of her now.

Fighting tears, she folded herself around his body as he set a slow steady rhythm and wished again that she could see his eyes one more time.  In the end, it didn't matter.  She had the memory.  She knew who he was.  And she knew who she was with him.

And yet, she still couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread the dream had left behind.

~fin~ 

top