By Empress 

Series:  Fourth of the Falling Apart Together series, following In Rilievo: Interlude.

Summary: Logan comes home, only to find out a lot has changed since he's been gone.  And he doesn't like some of it.

Rating: R – for language.

Categories: X3, AU

Characters:  Cyclops/Rogue

Genres: Angst, Adult, Shipper

Warnings:  This is an overall series warning - Grief and loss issues.  Character death. 
Author's Notes 1:  Points of view are still whacked in this one. Oh, and a tip of the nib to september_chic her "world slid sideways" line had more of a profound effect on me than I realized. Thanks for letting me borrow it, hon.
Author's Notes 2: I still hate Jean.  Violently.  And it's not going to get any better as the story progresses. 

Distribution: The Wayside Inn, Empress' Private Library, and Lady Scriven's only.  All others ask first.
Disclaimer: I own no one.  Marvel owns it all.  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*

Love you so much can't count all the ways
I'd die for you girl and all they can say is
"He's not your kind"

They never get tired of putting me down and
I never know when I come around
What I'm gonna find
Don't let them make up your mind
Don't you know

Girl, you'll be a woman soon
Please come take my hand
Girl, you'll be a woman soon
Soon, you'll need a man

            Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon - Neil Diamond 

Fifteen months later…

I thought I could just walk right in like I'd never been away.  But I shoulda known.  Nothin' in my life is ever that friggin' easy.  It ain't a matter of not bein' welcome.  I've got a home here whenever I want one.  There ain't a lot in this world that I believe in or people I trust.  But the Professor's one of 'em.  And if he says I'm welcome whenever I wanna be here, then I'm welcome.  End of discussion.

I catch myself just standin' in the walkway between the garage and the front door, just starin' up at the moss covered monstrosity, torn between wantin' to go inside and wantin' to get back on my bike and ride like hell as far away from here as I can get.

It's been almost two years.  Two years since I rode back through these gates, parked in this garage, walked up these stairs and through these doors.  Two years since I called this place home.  No particular reason to stay away so long this time, either.  Not unless you count not wantin' to remember.  For the first time in - well - ever, I've wanted to be able to forget.  To not remember. 

Forget the gut twistin' pain when I saw those waters swallow her up.  Forget the way Cyke shattered in front of everyone, and all over me.  Forget the way I did it too.  Forget the tears runnin' down the Professor's face and the little hitch in his breathin'.  Forget the sounds of snifflin' students.  Forget the quiet weepin' of Storm as she tried to fly us to DC and not kill us all too.  Forget the stink of grief and agony buildin' up in the plane to suffocatin' levels.  Forget the soft recitation of the twenty-third Psalm by that Kurt guy - the blue one - in the back.  And most of all forget the anguish in Marie's eyes as she watched Cyke and me, lookin' like she wanted to hold onto us both and make it all go away, and knowin' if she tried, none of us would ever be the same again. 

Forget it all.  Every last fuckin' second of it.  Slate.  Wiped clean. 

You'd think that it havin' been so long that it'd have eased up a little.  Made the images not so crisp.  The memories so clear.  The pain so sharp.  But it don't work that way.  Not for me at least.  I guess that's what happens when you've been around as long as me, but only have a decade or so worth of memories to begin with.  Your brain latches on to the ones you have and won't let 'em go for nothin'.  The really bad ones especially.  And fuck knows I got plenty of those.

Like the look on Marie's face when I stabbed her through the chest that night.  And the feelin' of everything in me just pourin' into her when she touched me that first time.  Or the way Marie lay limp and not breathin' in my arms at the top of the Statue of Liberty later.  Jesus. That one still wakes me up in a cold sweat sometimes.  Only in those dreams, her skin doesn't work.  She's good and dead and it's my fault, 'cuz I didn't get to her in time.  Yeah.  Those are the memories I get to keep. 

Oh, there are good ones too, just not as clear.  Like night I first saw Marie, scared and lost in that bar in Laughlin City.  Or when she almost made me laugh in the truck at her smart-aleck comment over my name.  And the feelin' that I actually had a place I wanted to be rather than just had to be - the day Chuck asked me to stay…same day Marie told me she didn't want me to go. 

Jean.  The first time she smiled at me.  That day in my room when I teased her about readin' my mind.  Or when I teased her again about gettin' my shirt off.  She blushed and tried to hide it.  And when I woke up from savin' Marie and Jean's was the face I opened my eyes to see.  She'd been worried.  I kissed her fingers. She let me hold her hand for a while too.  I knew right then I loved her.  And the best of my memories of Jeannie, kissin' her in the forest.  At least I got that.  Lots of good memories there.

But I don't get to keep those in the same stark clarity as the others.  They're up there somewhere.  Just kinda fuzzy.  No, just the really shitty ones stick closest to me for some damn reason. 

Like the day Jeannie died. 

I'd pay good money to have that part of my memory erased.  On my really bad days, I'd even include havin' the memories of Jeannie wiped out entirely, too.  Whoever said that it's better to have loved and lost crap should be forced to watch a person he loves die right in front of them and not be able to damn thing to stop it.  And then make 'em watch everybody else he cares about unravel at the seams.  Only then will that numb nuts understand that sometimes, just sometimes, never havin' loved in the first place is the better option.

Because then you won't have the pain.  And you won't know what you missed out on so it won't hurt so fuckin' bad when it's gone.  On those really bad days, I'd love to ram twelve inches of adamantium right through his fuckin' brain, then heal him up and do it again.  And again.  And again.  And maybe then he'll know half of what I go through every fuckin' day since she died.

Storm would tell me I've got misplaced anger issues.  Well no shit, Sherlock.  I can't think of a person in my position that wouldn't.  And if they were in my position and didn't have anger issues?  I wouldn't stand too close to 'em…spontaneous combustion and all that.

Okay, okay, enough stallin'.  May as well head inside.  The Professor probably knows I'm here already, probably been trackin' me since I crossed the state line.  And Marie…well, now that makes that tight feelin' in my chest loosen up a little. 

Yeah.  That'd be a downside to havin' my memories blanked out.  I'd lose Marie.  And that just ain't an option.  I've got a lot of makin' up to her to do, runnin' out on her for a second time.  I stayed gone too long, this time too.  Just like I did the last time I left her here after promisin' her I'd take care of her. 

Only this time around, I didn't keep in touch with her like I did before.  Oh, she tried.  She wrote a couple of times to the same post boxes I gave her before.  But I didn't answer.  After ten or fifteen letters, she just stopped writin'.  Knowin' her like I do, she probably thought she was intrudin' or something.  She'd be wrong, but I bet that's what she thinks.

Fuck, but I miss her. 

It's hard to tell sometimes who I miss more.  Jean or Marie.  I loved Jean.  Still do.  But Jeannie made me nuts.  Complicated and beguilin'…I'da done anything for that woman, walked across hot coals, killed for her…anything.  Just to have her once look at me the way she looked at Cyke.  Eh, but her heart belonged to the Abercrombie and Fitch Poster Boy.  Didn't change the fact that I loved her more than anything.  And didn't keep my heart from gettin' ripped out when she died either.

I love Marie too…but different.  Not to sound sappy or nothin', but she's probably the best friend I've ever had.  But where Jeannie was complex, Marie's easy.  There was a time when it wasn't so easy though.  She had a massive crush on me at first, right after Liberty Island.  And yeah, I'll admit, I could have handled it better than I did.  Runnin' off at the first available opportunity I had probably hurt her worse than she's ever said.  But she didn't hold it against me or anything.  She's got me in her head.  She gets me.  She knows me.  Better than anyone else. So she understood about me needin' to find out where I come from. 

Eventually she got over her crush and I came back to find myself something I don't remember ever havin' before.  A home. And a really weird kind of family.  Really weird.  Oh sure, I left from time to time, but that was for stuff for Chuck.  Assignments.  Stuff only the Wolverine could handle for him.  And no, I'm not gonna talk about it right now either.

We're comfortable around each other now, though, me and my Marie.  I like hearin' her laugh, and makin' her smile.  And it pisses me off to no damn end whenever someone takes that smile away from her.  There've been times on the road these past months that just the memory of that smile kept me goin'.  That and knowin' if I ever showed back up here without bein' perfectly okay - accordin' to her standards - then I'd get to hear no end of fussin' from her over it. 

But I don't mind.  Actually, I like that she gives a shit about me.  She's pretty much the only one who does.  Dunno what it is about the kid, but she's always had that something about her that just calms me right down.  Unless she's in trouble.  Or hurtin'.  Or some walkin' corpse of a mutant has put his hands on her.   

And I'd die before I let anything happen to her.  Hell, I have died for her. 

You watch, she'll be waitin' on me at the front door like always, I'm sure.  God, I hope so.  I could really go for seein' her right about now.  Yeah, I got a lot to make up for where she's concerned.  Wonder if she'd go for me takin' her to Alaska?  She's always wanted to go there.

I push the front doors open and walk in, breathin' in deep, scentin' out the place.  Yep.  Still smells like home...and that's mostly because I can smell her…she's close…see, I told you she'd be waitin' on me.  She's always known when I was close by.  And here she comes.

"Logan!"

Pretty as a picture, smilin' to beat the world, she walks right up to me and hugs me tight.  I breathe in deep again, feelin' that band around my chest loosen up a bit more and I hug her back.  Damn I needed that.  I breathe in again and - wait…what the hell?  Her scent is off…different…I pull back.

"You okay, kid?"

She beams up at me, givin' me one of those thousand watt smiles that've kept me sane some nights.  "I'm great!  And it's so good to see you!" 

There she goes squeezin' me again, and that not right scent hits harder this time…I know it…just can't place it yet.  But it's makin' me wanna growl a little.

She pulls back and a confused look washes over her, pullin' her eyes down in a little frown.  Then, like she's figured out something, her face clears and she rubs her hand up and down my arm…wait…no gloves?  Oh, nylon sheer ones.  I can actually see her skin through them.  Nice nail polish.  Bright red.  A pretty ring on her finger.  Couple of 'em actually.  Hmmm.

"How are you doing, Logan?"

Ah Jesus, the sympathetic concerned look in those dark eyes.  That, I didn't need right now.  As always, she sees right through me and can see how Jeannie's death is still ridin' me.  Stuffin' that pang back down, I grin at her.  "Not bad, kid.  But you sure look sharp.  Real pretty.  Kinda grown up even." 

And she does too.  Smart little navy blue skirt that hugs in all the right places but stops just at the knee.  Legs longer than I'd ever have thought her havin' showin' from the end of her skirt all the way down to very sexy navy blue high heels.  Long sleeved navy jacket over a white blouse open to show more cleavage than I'd ever seen her display before.  Her hair is down, swept over one side like she usually wears it, and I can see a pen stickin' out from between the white strands over her right ear.  But even it looks different today…she's just different all over.  And I'd be damned if I can figure out why.  Then it hits me.

"Lot's of skin showin', kid.  What about -"

She laughs at me, plucks at her throat and I see what I missed before.  A line.  "Sheer nylon body suit."

I raise an eyebrow at her.  "All the way down?"

"Ah, to my toes, yeah." 

I smile a bit broader, and she blushes a deep red.  Blushing?  With me?  Oh yeah, this could be fun - but - wait.  This is my Marie here.  We don't tease about stuff like that.  An interesting scent drifts past my nose…heat.  From her?  Nah, can't be from her.  She doesn't see me that way.  Not anymore.  And that bugs me hard all of a sudden.  Hard.  I frown. 

Must be a new fella sniffin' around.  That must be the different scent about her.  I bet she's got a new boyfriend.  Eh, whatever.  I'm sure I'll hear all about the new dickless wonder soon enough.  Right now, I wanna know about these fancy clothes of hers. 

"What's with the new look?"

"Like it?"

I nod.  "Yeah, I do.  Makes you look…all grown up." 

She does too.  A whole lot.  Damn, how old is she now?  Old enough, by the way she's lookin' in that pretty blouse of hers.  And that I don't like.  Not one bit.  Because if I'm noticin' she's fillin' out in all the right ways, then who else is noticin' too?  No, I don't like this.  But I don't let her know that.

She grins at me, steps back, and turns slowly.  "You're speaking with the Personal Assistant to Professor Charles Xavier."

"No shit?" 

"Yup.  I've been working for him for a little over four years now."

I frown at that.  "Three?  I've only been gone about a year."

"Almost two," she whispers softly and I pretend not to hear that.

"When'd this happen?"

"I ah…Logan, I've been working for the Professor since I was still in high school.  But he made it official and I went full-time before you came back…the last time…" Her eyes go sad on me again.  "I never got the chance to tell you with…everything goin' on.  And then you left right after…"

Okay, so that makes sense.  I knew she did stuff for Chuck after she graduated, but I didn't know it was about the school.  Then again, when I lived here, I was an X-man and didn't have much to do with the day to day runnin' of the school and its students.  Cyke - translation, asshole - argued against it because of my, how'd he put it?  Oh yeah, my volatile temperament and the possible liability resulting from said same.  Jesus, that humanoid excuse for a rectal thermometer shoulda been a lawyer.

But I ignore that sympathetic look she's givin' me.  Sympathy is the last thing I want from her.  "And the X-Geeks?"

She laughs like I knew she would.  "I'm a first string player."

Damn, that surprises me for some reason.  I guess I always figured she'd go on from here to college.  Guess not.  "Good for you, kid.  You like the job?"

"Love it.  Both of them," she beams at me.

"One job, for which, she's currently running late."

I turn to see Chuck rollin' up with a big smile.  "But I think under the circumstances, her employer, a generous and benevolent man, would understand."  He holds out his hand, and I shake it.  "Good to see you, Logan.  I trust we'll have the pleasure of your company this evening at dinner?"

I nod.  "Sure.  Actually, Professor, I was thinkin' I'd stick around a little while."  I toss a wink over at Marie and she grins back at me. 

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay as long as you like, of course.  You always have a home here, Logan."  The Prof turns to look at Marie.  "Rogue, do you have my itinerary for the upcoming trip to Washington?  I seem to have misplaced my copy."

She smiles at him and moves around me to stand next to his wheelchair, and flips open the small planner she's had clutched in her hand all of this time.  "You don't have a copy yet, Professor.  Remember, you asked me to change your accommodations to allow for a few extra days so you can visit with a few prospective students."

"Ah yes, the Polson family being the first on that list."

"Yes, sir."  She cocks her head at him.  "You've only scheduled two hours with them, sir.  Are you sure that it'll be enough?"

He narrows his eyes at her.  "I take it by your question that you don't?"

"Honestly, no.  Not if you're meeting with Mr. Polson as well.  I've spoken to him, and to say he's unpleasant is an understatement at best."

"Yes," the Professor nods.  "I remember our last meeting with stark clarity."  He looks up at me.  "The man is in denial that his daughter a mutant at all.  He was last trying folk cures, makin' the poor girl miserable."

"Stupid sonofabitch," I growl, grindin' my teeth together.  When were people gonna learn, huh? 

"At least he's trying." Marie comments softly.  "Some fathers don't even care enough to be in denial."

I can't help but reach out and put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze, knowin' she's thinkin' about her own parents.  She looks up at me and smiles again, her eyes bright and shinin', her emotions laid bare for me to see.  A mixture of sadness, happiness, hope, and something I can't put my finger on.  But it makes my breath catch in my chest.  When the hell did she get to be so beautiful?

"Perhaps." The Professor's voice pulls my attention back to him.  "Even so, it's been over a year since my visit with them.  You'd think they'd have decided by now.  See if you cannot arrange a meeting with Mrs. Polson without her husband present, will you my dear? I can't imagine why the father is dragging his feet as he is about gettin' his daughter enrolled." 

"Yes sir," she drags the pen out from behind her ear, nods and makes some notes in the little book.  

He looks from Marie back to me and smiles.  "If you'll excuse me, Logan.  I've got a full schedule today."

"Sure, no problem."

"Rogue, find Logan a room, would you please, my dear?" He calls over his shoulder as he rolls back towards his office.

I look at her, and I can tell she's already forgotten about me.  She moves to follow him, her eyes skimmin' over the small planner in her hand.  "Marie.  A room?"

"Oh!"  She turns back and smiles sheepishly at me.  "Sorry about that.  Lots on my mind this week.  Uhm…your old room is still vacant.  Unless, you'd prefer another?"

I don't know how to take this Marie.  All efficient and grown up and not the bubbly kid I remember.  She's beginnin' to talk like Chuck too.  Hell, she's even almost lost that Southern accent that rattles around in my brain at night.  It's almost like she doesn't…like she doesn't need me anymore. 

Humph.  Well good.  I mean, I'm her friend.  Not her father.

"No. My old one is fine."  She nods and turns to leave, and again I stop her.  "Marie?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"We're on for later, once you're through with work, like usual.  Right?"

Her smile lights up the room.  "Of course.  Your timing of showing up now is perfect, you know.  I've got a surprise for you.  But I've really got to get in there, now."  She shrugs.  "He needs me."

She likes her job.  Really likes the fact that the Professor depends on her.  I can't help but smile back at her.  Damn.  She's got her shit more together than I do.  Ever has had, as far back as I can remember.

"Go on," I say with a smile.  "I'll meet you in the rec-room later."

She nods at me and goes down the short side hall that leads to the school offices.  I don't know why I do it, but I follow at a distance after a minute.  Just to see her at work, I guess.  I stop short outside the door though when I hear her speak.

"Are you sure you're goin' to be fine while we're gone?"

I hear him chuckle.  "You worry too much, my dear."

"I can't help it.  You've just been so good to me..."

"Hush now.  None of that.  You're like my own daughter, you know, and I cannot stress how happy I am for the two of you."

You two?  What two?  Oh yeah…new boyfriend. 

There's a moment of silence and then he asks, "Has he told you where you're going yet?  The last time you two went away was to Anchorage for that long weekend a few months ago."

Wait…he took her to Alaska?  She's already been?  And with the Professor's blessing?  A low rumble builds in my chest.

"No, he's determined to surprise me.  But I can't say as I really mind.  There's just so much to get done between now and this weekend."

I hear him chuckle.  "He does love his surprises.  Tell me, my dear.  Have you given any more thought of moving into the boat house? It's bigger, and much more private."

Another moment of extended silence, but I barely notice it because the band that had loosened to almost non-existent just clamped down hard on my lungs.  She's moving out?  Oh no way in hell will Chuck allow that.  No way.

"We've talked about it, but we'd like to wait a little while longer.  Maybe later on, if that's acceptable to you."

"My dear, of course it's acceptable to me.  I've always understood your reasons for wanting to keep your relationship as private as possible.  Whenever you're ready, the boathouse is yours.  I just want the best for the two of you.  Has it really been over year since you moved in with him?  My, where does the time go?"

"Just over year yes, but remember we were seeing each other for nearly six months before that.  We just want to wait on moving out of the mansion for a little while longer.  My fault.  Nerves, I guess."

Wait a second…the whole time I've been gone she's been serious about some guy?  And she's been livin' with this jerk-off for over a year?  What the fuck is goin' on around here?!  Why didn't anyone tell me - oh.  Ain't like I've been real communicative myself.  Guess they couldn't find me. 

"Completely understandable given the upcoming events.   So I take it everything is in order for Saturday?"

She's laughin' now.  "Yes, actually.  I just can't believe it's here so soon."

"No lingering concerns?"

"Only that I'm goin' to throw up all down my wedding gown before I can say I do."

HOLD IT!  Just fuckin' HOLD IT right the fuck there!  She's gettin' married and she didn't even tell me?!

"I'm sure Henry can give you something to steady your nerves.  Although there might be another reason for the nausea?"

"Professor!"

She's laughing, but…damn, damn, damn, damn.  It takes everything I've got in me not to start howling.

"Pardon the intrusion, my dear, but it's a viable question as long as you've been together."

"True.  And I'll admit, even though we've discussed children, I'm a little nervous about that.  I'm not entirely opposed to the idea, just the mechanics of it and what it might mean for my mutation."

I swear to God I'm gonna be sick.  My Marie…havin' babies…by some guy I don't know…some guy who's not…who ain't…fuck!  I scrape a hand down my face and see it's shakin'. Jesus. 

"No need to fret, unnecessarily, my dear.  You have plenty of time for such matters.  I hope the two of you will be very happy.  And if there's anything I can do to precipitate that, I expect you both to let me know."

What the fuck?!  He's happy she's leavin' me…uh…us?!  I'm gonna have to kill this guy.  Pure and simple.  He's a dead man.

"Thank you, Professor.  I was hoping you'd feel that way." 

Aw damn there's tears in her voice.  She's really happy about this.  Shit.  Can't kill him then.  Maybe I can just maim him a little.  Okay…more than a little.

"How could I not?  You know I've been fully behind you regarding this relationship.  Since day one."

"And I appreciate it more than I can ever say.  Both of us do."

I've heard enough.  I gotta get away from here before I ram my claws through the wall or something.  Better yet, that new boyfriend of hers that's movin' her away from me.  Us.  Away from us. 

I move away from them and back down the hall to the main stairs, growlin' as I go, scarin' the crap out of a few new faces…kids I've never seen before.  Well get used to it, ya little monsters.  The Wolverine is back, and you'd just best get used to it now.

Humph.  Marie's all grown up on me, got a job, a new guy, movin' out and now she's gettin' married too?  Yeah, I don't like anything about this.  Not one damn bit.  Oh yeah.  I'll definitely be stickin' around now.  Maybe even longer than I'd originally planned. 

I bare my teeth in a feral snarl as one of the older kids stray too close.  Give that new boyfriend a taste of metal.  Put the fear of the Wolverine in him.  Yeah.  That definitely sounds about right.

Whoever he is, he may have her heart, but he'll never get me out of her life.  We're connected somehow, she and I.  She's my girl, even if she does marry the walkin' corpse she's taken up with right now.  She'll still be my girl.  Always has been.  Always will be.  That's just the way it is.  Best he get used to that idea now.

Cause I'm always goin' to have a big spot in her life.

Always.

-x-

At last, my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers
The night I looked at you
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last

            At Last - Etta James           

The low rumble of an engine revving outside ripped him from slumber.  Scott rolled over and groaned at the bright light streaming in through the window by his side of the bed.  He didn't know who the hell was outside making such a racket but he was gonna hand them their head on a platter when he found out.  He cracked an eye at the alarm clock beside the bed.

Shit.  He'd overslept again.  He was really going to have to talk to her about not waking him up before she left.  At least he would make it to his first class on time.  He wasn't really late.  He just liked to eat with her downstairs before they started their day.  But here lately, she would slip out of bed without waking him, saying he needed the extra sleep.

Maybe she was right.  He had been having a problem with insomnia lately.  And when he did sleep, he would wake up from disturbing dreams that would fade as he came to full consciousness.  He flopped face-first back down into her pillow, breathing in deeply, remembering with a smile.  She had woken him, just much earlier than normal.  Barely as the sun was coming up.   Boy, had she woken him.  He smiled into the pillow remembering earlier that morning.

A soft sound, almost like the coo of a dove, filtered into his consciousness.  Sweet sounding sighs spread a smile across his face as the warm bundle in his arms shifted closer, fitting herself tightly against his body.  "Good morning," he rumbled softly, his voice deep and sleep roughened.

Lying on her side against him, she tipped her head back to see him facing her.  "Mmmmm…morning."

Her lashes lowered as her gaze drifted down to his mouth, and then slowly back up, the unspoken request shining brightly in their dark depths.  Not bothering with the nylon scarf tangled in the bed sheets somewhere, he licked his lips, then leaned in and caressed her mouth with his.  He lingered a very scant few seconds, long enough to feel her start to draw him in, to get a good picture of what he was currently feeling.  But not long enough to injure.  He gave a small shudder as he pulled away, licking his lips, savoring the taste and the small zap he always got from her before it began to hurt.

"I wish you'd be more careful.  I don't want to hurt you."

He grinned down at her, as he rolled them so that he was braced over her on his elbows.  "I told you, I won't let you."

"How?  I zap you every time."

 Scott shrugged.  "Let me worry about that.  And anyway, I kinda like it."

"What are you?  Some kind of masochist?" she teased.

"When it comes to you?  Oh yeah," he leered back.

Her cheeks colored a bit at the look on his face.  His smile deepened, loving it when he could make her blush.  She shifted her legs, allowing him to settle more fully into the cradle of her hips.  Supporting his weight on his elbows, he gently traced bare fingers down the sides of her face, over her hair where it framed it beautifully. 

Just for him, he thought, his breath catching just a bit in his chest as she blinked those huge dark eyes at him.  She gave him a tender smile, reminding him of the split second the night months earlier that he'd been able to kiss her properly, no barriers between them, as well as seeing her without the red tint layered over her, due to his own mutation.  And she'd gotten to see his eyes without getting blasted.  A small miracle, no doubt, but one worth every danger they'd risked having it.  A memory he'd treasure always.

"It was worth it the night I got to really kiss you."

Her eyes went luminous at the memory.  "Yes, it was." 

She lifted her arms to wind them around his neck, her gloved fingers toying with his hair where it tended to curl at his nape since he'd been wearing it just a tad longer lately.  Her lips split into a wide smile.

"What?"

She tugged on a slightly curling lock.  "Your new bad-boy image."

The corner of his mouth curled a little.  "You like the bad boys."

"I love you. No matter how you cut your hair or how you dress.  As long as you're still you, I'm happy."

He cupped her face in her hands.  "How'd I get so lucky?  To have you?"

She grinned brightly, trailing her fingers down the strong muscles down the side of his neck, wringing a deep rumble from him.  "Clean living?"

He snorted a laugh.  "Yeah, I'm sure that's it." Sliding his arms beneath her, he rolled over onto his back, flipping her up onto his chest, sighing deeply as she rubbed her cheek against the cotton of his undershirt.  "Still sleepy?  You've got a couple of hours before you have to be at work."

"Mmm-hmm," she murmured lowly, still rubbing against him.  "You're comfy."

He chuckled, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.  "You too, baby.  Go back to sleep."

"M'kay." 

Yeah, and we'll wake up like this every morning for the rest of our lives. Except for those mornings when the kids wake us up for early morning feedings.   Wonder what'd she'd say to the idea of getting started on a family right away?

Slow up there, Summers, he chastised himself.  Drag her off to the altar and make it official first.  Thank God she'd agreed to only a three month long engagement.  Nothing longer.  Not again.  That's part of what went wrong the first time, he vowed as he closed his eyes, snuggled her close to him and drifted back to sleep, her deep, even breathing effecting him like the sweetest of lullabies.

He smiled as the memory faded, pulling himself back to the present.  That had been just as the sun was coming up, bathing them both in a soft glow as the sunbeams rained down on them through the broad picture windows at the end of the bed.  Almost like the sun was giving them its blessing.  Fitting, he thought, since his mutation was directly related to solar radiation.  Rolling over with a smile on his face, he stretched languidly, and laughed softly, thinking that in just three days she'd be Mrs. Scott Summers.

"And they said we'd never last," he chuckled aloud, his mind drifting back to when they'd first moved in together and had taken their relationship public. 

His smile faded just a bit, remembering the comments that'd been forthcoming from everyone else in the mansion.  Charles had been fine with it.  Overjoyed more accurately, as he'd expressed his approval of Rogue's and his relationship from the moment he knew it was growing.  Storm…she'd been concerned that he was rushing into a rebound relationship, and she still wasn't entirely certain he wasn't.  She would eventually come around.  Jubilee had seemed legitimately happy for the two of them.  And Bobby silently seethed at him whenever they crossed paths.  The students as well as the rest of the team could keep their opinions to themselves as far as he was concerned.  But that left one more…

Logan.

Yeah, that was a powder keg waiting to explode.  It'd been easy to forget the metal-reinforced pain in the ass was even alive since he'd taken off right after Jean's memorial service.  But he'd be back.  Logan always came back when it was the least convenient for him.  Last time was right in the middle of when he and Jean were having their worst problems.  It was also one of the last times he spoke with her before her death.  And regardless of how happy he truly was with Rogue now, the memory of that particular argument with Jean ate away at him.

x-x

Two years ago…

"May seventeenth."

"The first weekend after Spring Break?  I don't think so."

"May twenty-fourth?"

"Memorial Day weekend."

"How about May thirty-first?  That'd be good.  School's still in, but exams would be over and everyone who's leaving for summer break would go after the reception."

"Ah…do we really want all the students here for that sort of occasion?  It could turn into a circus really quickly."

"Okay," the word was terse, and the grinding of teeth was very audible in the tense air.  "June seventh."

"No, I've got a medical conference that weekend in Philadelphia."

"June fourteenth."

"Doesn't work for me. 

Scott slammed his pen down on the open planner and crossed his arms over his chest, fixing her with a stern glare.  "Well damn it Jean, just what does work for you?"

She raised curiously blank eyes to him.  "Not yelling at me for a start."

Taking a deep breath, he cocked his head to the side and willed himself to calm down.  "I apologize," he said after a moment. 

"Apology accepted," she replied, her eyes a little downcast.

Pouting?  How could she be pouting when she's the one making this so damn difficult?  "I'm just frustrated, Jean.  Surely you understand that."

"Honestly, Scott, no I don't.  We lead busy lives, and as such, it's going to be difficult to set a date for us to get married between our schedules and various commitments."

"We're always going to be busy.  We're always going to have something hanging over us that we've got to do.  The way we deal with it is to proceed with our lives in spite of that.  Setting a date and sticking to it is a good place to start."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, his stomach clenching in reaction, knowing that this wouldn't be settled calmly or even at all.  "Sticking to it?  What are you trying to say, Scott?"

Damn it.  Talking to her was getting more and more like walking through a minefield with a blindfold on.  He pursed his lips and weighed his next words carefully.  "Jean, you've been putting me off for almost two years now.  And the two dates we've set previously, you were the one to postpone."

"Yes.  Postpone, Scott.  Postpone.  Not cancel.  Yet it appears that's exactly what you're accusing me of. "

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Jean.  Simply stating fact."

"So you're saying that we should have ignored the threat of that fanatical anti-mutant military group raiding a house known to be a shelter for mutants?  And just gone on with the ceremony?"

He clenched his teeth.  "No, I'm not saying that.  Yes, we should have gone to help them, which we did.  But I am saying it wasn't necessary to wait another three months after that before we even tried to set another date. 

"It was too chaotic at that time."

"Jean, we're getting married here," he pointed out with no little amount of frustration in his tone.  "Not in some church somewhere that we have to reserve.  Everything could have stayed set up until the next day and it still would have been just fine."

She stared at him sullenly for a moment.  "And I suppose that since we'd just taken down that group of militants that they'd have left us alone to get married and not tried to seek retribution."

"They did leave us alone and they didn't try to seek revenge."

"But they could have."

"Of course they could have.  Everyone could have," he answered quickly losing the grip on his temper.  He took a steadying breath and forced a calm he didn't feel into his voice.  "It's the type of world we live in now.  And yes, there's always very likely possibility of some rogue faction of militants bursting in here just to create a little havoc."

Her eyes sparked with heat.  "Interesting choice of phrasing.  A rogue faction."

Okay.  Enough, he thought, knowing exactly where she was headed with this.  He had no intention of going there again today.  Scott stood up and walked towards the door.   "We'll discuss this again later, when you're in a calmer frame of mind."

"I'm as calm as I intend to get," she retorted, her voice perfectly even.

He replied, "Another reason for me to get some air at the moment."

"Please give Rogue all my very best," she sniped at him.

Scott stopped and gave a slow turn back to her.  "And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing more than what it sounded like," her words were clipped and precise.  Just like she always was when she was close to losing her temper.  "I just assumed you'd be seeing her shortly since I always find her close by whenever you run away from me."

He hated this, feeling the argument escalating, but being unable to stop it.  It was happening more and more often lately.  "You're mistaking running with being pushed away, dear."

"Am I?  You are going to be seeing her today, I'd imagine and I just wanted to pass along my greetings," she retorted with a sour smile.  "After all, it's not every day a grown woman has to compete with jailbait for her fiancé's attention."

"She's not a teenager anymore.  She hasn't been one in maturity for a long time, Jean," he corrected her wording, sending her a chastising look at the same time.  "And she's also not competing with you for anything.  Except maybe Logan's attention," he added in a quiet mutter. 

Jean continued on like she hadn't heard him.  And maybe she hadn't; he wasn't sure.  Either way, she didn't address it.  Typical. 

"All right.  Perhaps jailbait wasn't the most accurate description,.  But I thought you'd be offended were I to use any of the other terms for her that were among my initial choices."  She sneered at him, and then rushed ahead before he could say anything.  "However, there's still a 'teen' after her age.  Ergo, teenager."

"No, dear," he sneered back, losing control of his temper bit by precious bit at her constant sniping over the young woman in question.  "She turned twenty, two months ago.  Something you would have known had you actually attended the party Charles threw for her," he countered, having no idea why he was still there arguing with her about any topic, much less Rouge's age. 

"I had to work," Jean answered, her eyes snapping.

"You always have to work."

"What I do is very important."

He made an ugly snorting sound.  "So important you couldn't spare ten minutes to wish a member of the team a happy birthday?  A member that, might I add, you almost never attend anything for?  Don't think for one minute she doesn't realize it either."

She shook her head.  "Don't exaggerate, Scott.  I miss lots of gatherings and parties for other team members due to my work." 

"No.  Only things for Rouge." 

"Not true," she argued.  "I went to her very first birthday party here."

Scott's face blanked out completely.  "Yes.  You did.  Amazing too, but if I recall correctly, that was when Logan planned a surprise party for her, wasn't it?"

"Perhaps," she hedged.

"A surprise party she almost missed because you held her in detention that day for not turning in a biology assignment.  An assignment that she had turned in and that you had misplaced," he accused.

Jean's face flushed in anger.  "It was a simple accident.  And you know I don't play favorites.  You don't turn in an assignment; you pay the consequences."

"Oh, Jean, don't give me that!  It was your mistake!  Not hers!"  He raised his voice, his tenuous grip on his temper sliding even further.  "And even when you found the assignment, you kept her and lectured her on her attitude until Logan had to come and get her for her own party, for God's sake!"

"If you're going to continue to yell at me, then this discussion is over."

Fighting back even harsher words, he ground out, "Face it, Jean.  You may not play favorites among the students, but we all know who you don't like.  You make sure of it."

"Preposterous," she scoffed.  

"Everybody sees it, Jean.  Even Charles."

"Now you're just being ridiculous.  She may no longer officially be my student, or a teenager, but being twenty for just two months doesn't mean she's automatically matured over night."  Jean folded her hands in front of her on the table top and glared at him with that icy disdain that always set his teeth on edge.  She did it so well.

"Neither of which really matters when you consider the number of grown men's memories she's absorbed," he continued in the face of her placating expression.  "Magneto's presence and memories alone determine she's definitely an adult, not including Logan's or anyone else we don't know about."

"Ah yes," Jean murmured snidely, nodding her head as she closed her own planner and shoved it away from her.  "Poor little Rogue and all those old men in her head confusing her fragile state of mind.  She looks and acts perfectly fine to me."

"Fine.  Fine."  He nodded angrily.  "What about her nightmares?  How about those?  Are those fine too, Jean?"

"Contrived," she answered without hesitation.  She crossed her arms over her chest.  "Surely, you're not going to tell me you don't see it too.  Whenever she's had a teenage drama, or has gone more than a day or two without some attention from you she has one of her…," she unfolded her arms to make quotation marks in the air with her fingers, "…nightmares.  A little too convenient, if you ask me."

"Are you even listening to yourself?"  He asked, incredulous that he was hearing her say these things.  Did he not know her at all?  He was beginning to doubt he did.  "One of those men survived the Nazi death camps.  The other had horrible experiments practiced on him in some government lab for years, scrambling his memory, and turning him into God knows what.  And both transferred some those memories to her…when she was barely seventeen years old!  That alone should be enough to warrant a lifetime of sympathy since neither of them drove her insane."

"Horrible experiments?  Did I really just hear you say that?  You're actually showing sympathy for Logan?"  She gaped at him for a moment then indulged in mocking laughter.  "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Just because I can't stand the guy doesn't mean I think he deserved to go through that kind of hell."

"Don't you?"

Scott put his hand on the door, more than ready to be away from the whole mess their relationship had suddenly become. "Cruel and petty nitpicking like this is beneath you, Jean."

Her lips pressed into a tight line, making them disappear almost completely.  "If I'm so cruel and petty, as you put it, then maybe you should go discuss good dates for the wedding with Rogue and leave me out of it all together."

"So you're going to add childish to the list now, are you?  Fine."  Nodding, he ground out.  "I'm not engaged to Rogue, Jean."   

"Well maybe you should be."

That brought him up short.  At that moment, Scott knew their relationship had crossed an invisible line somehow.  He was in danger of losing his fiancée.  If he hadn't already.  He didn't want that, did he?  Yet, he heard himself say, "If that's the way you really think it should be, then you know what to do."

Her eyes widened with surprise, then faded to that cold blank look again.  "Yes.  I do."

Unable to stay in her presence without losing his what little grip on his temper he had left, Scott walked from the room.  Seething, he fought for calm, as he stalked down the hallway and stairs towards the rec-room, his steps unconsciously leading him in the direction of where he was most likely to find the young woman who'd been the crux of most of the argument.  Oblivious to his subconscious urgings, his mind wouldn't slow down, continually replaying his frustrations over and over.

Jean had been putting him off in setting a date for the wedding for two years, almost three, now.  At the same time, she was sniping at him constantly about how much time he was spending with Rogue. 

She just didn't seem to get that he genuinely liked the girl.  That they understood each other in a way no one else ever had.  He attributed it to them both being runaways.  Living on the streets changed a person in ways that people who'd never experienced that could understand. 

Okay, so she had a crush on him.  He knew it, and dismissed it.  Once, he'd reminded Jean that Rogue's crush on him was no different than her attraction to Logan.  His fiancée had just looked at him oddly, pressing her already thin mouth into an almost non-existent line.  Then he'd felt the itch at the back of his skull that said she was delving into his mind uninvited.

That pissed him off and he demanded she stop.  Immediately that had led into a spectacular argument about what he was supposedly afraid for her to see.  The argument ended with Jean tearing off to one of the vacant bedrooms two floors down, leaving him to sleep alone for over a week. 

Heaving a frustrated breath, Scott clenched his eyes tightly closed, pulled off his shades, and ran a hand down his face pulling at his cheeks, trying to work out the tension riding high and hot under his skin.  With very precise movements, he replaced his glasses and opened his eyes, to see he'd stopped a few feet from the rec-room.  Sure enough, he could hear Rogue and Bobby inside. 

"You can't be serious," Bobby laughed nervously.

"I'm absolutely dead serious," Rogue replied, her voice sounding a little angry, but tinged with sadness and resignation.

"I can't believe you'd even think that about me.  Cheating on you?  Like I'd do something like that."

Scott hesitated outside the door, not really wanting to hear this.  His blood was already boiling over his own argument with Jean.  The last thing he needed was listening to another couple fighting.  But the pain in Rogue's voice called to him, rooting him to the spot.

"I'm just saying what I've heard.  And I'd like to know if it's true or not."  He heard her take a shuddering breath.  "I mean, I can understand if you did…considering I'm not exactly…well, I know I can't give you want you want.  I know it's gotta be hard on you, so I get it.  I just want to know if the rumors are true."

Now that was just ludicrous, he thought.  She shouldn't have to feel that way about someone who's supposed to love her.  Fidelity wasn't optional in a relationship.  It was mandatory.

Before he could decide how he wanted to handle this, the low growl of a motorcycle split the still air around them.  Unexpectedly, with a smile bright enough to light Manhattan in a black-out, Rogue practically ran from the rec-room, passing by where Scott stood, never seeing him, headed purposefully towards the main hall.

A moment or two later, Bobby followed, grumbling the whole time.  "And she wonders why I'd look to someone else.  It's not her skin.  It's them.  Nobody measures up to either of them.  No one can compete with them.  One of them, sure.  But both Cyclops and Wolverine?  Forget it.  I never stood a fucking chance with her."

At that precise moment, the constant thorn in Scott's side, the most likely candidate for the demise of his relationship with Jean, the indestructible metal reinforced pain in the ass, the Wolverine himself, walked back through the front doors, right into Rogue's waiting arms.  And Scott's world slid sideways.

Never pausing in stride or detouring from his course, Logan had walked right up to the young woman, hugging her tightly, even going so far as to lift her up off the floor a little. 

Her laughter echoed through the hall way as she greeted him with a happily warbled, "Logan!"

Scott told himself that the ugly twisting in his middle was from the simpering smile he knew he'd see on Jean's face the minute she spotted the long-lost X-Man and had nothing to do with the joyous look in Rogue's eyes when Logan set her back down, yet still held on to her. 

A batch of students wandered past, several of them commenting in awed whispers, "Look!  It's Wolverine!  Wolverine's back!"

Scott suddenly found himself fighting the urge to punt one of the little fawners through the window.  Squashing the irrational reaction, he turned away from the future football in question.  He frowned sharply, his gaze returning to the embracing couple, in time to see his nemesis' eyes close and his fingers clench onto Rogue's denim jacket as he hugged her again.  A hug that was a little too close, too tight, and held for too long.  But before he could step forward and put a stop to it, Logan pulled back.

"Miss me, kid?"

"Nah, not really."

They're lying, Scott told himself.  Anyone unable to see how much the two of them actually had missed each other is totally self-consumed.  

Logan harrumphed at that.  "How're you doing?'

"I'm okay."

Scott saw Rogue's smile go brighter, but it looked forced to him, even from this distance.  And evidently Logan saw it too, as that irritating eyebrow of his shot up in disbelief. 

"Kid," he began, but a movement caught his attention.  "Who's this?"

And speaking of totally self-consumed, Scott thought as he watched Bobby approach, uninvited, and insert himself into the conversation.

"Ah, this is Bobby, my -"

"I'm her boyfriend," the young man interrupted, causing Rogue to bite at her bottom lip, clearly not pleased.  He extended his hand and Logan took it.  "Call me Iceman."

Scott suppressed a chuckle at the quick appearance of frost on the back of Logan's hand, as well as the cracking sound when he pulled away.  It was well documented how much the other man hated the cold.  And yet, we found him in Northern Canada up to his armpits in snow.  Go figure.

"Right.  Boyfriend?"  Logan looked back at Rogue for confirmation, his brows dipping into a quick frown as she refused to meet his gaze and looked away.  "So how do you guys…"

They don't, you lecherous pervert, Scott's inner dialogue continued.  And if what I heard earlier is true, they won't ever either.  Good.  She can do better than the arrogant little asshole.

"Well, we're still working on that."

"Uh-huh," Logan grunted, looking about as pleased as Scott did from where he observed, un-noticed.  He turned back to Rogue.  "So, kid you ready to -"

"Look who's come back and just in time," Ororo interrupted as she practically ran down the stairs. 

Logan glanced at her suspiciously.  "For what?"

"We need a babysitter."

"Babysitter?"  Immediately his eyes flew back to Rogue who just smiled benignly at him.  By the narrowing of his eyes, Scott wondered if he could also tell the young woman's smile was too forced to be legitimate.

"Nice to see you again, Logan," Ororo flashed a laughing smile at the expression on his face. 

Then he heard it.  The low, husky, inviting tone of the other man's name drawled from the lips of his fiancée - or was that ex-fiancée now - as she slowly walked down the stairs.  "Hello Logan."

"Jean."

An uneasy tension settled over the gathering in the hall as Logan's eyes tracked Jean's descent.  Rogue's smile wavered seeing it and Bobby grabbed at her arm.  She jerked it away, the hurt look on her face showing briefly before she pasted that fake smile back on.  Taking all of this in, Scott felt his blood heat in his veins.  But over which woman, he couldn't exactly tell.

Clearly not wanting to delay her departure further, Ororo commented casually, "Ah…I should go and get the jet ready."

Bobby took her exit as an opening to do the same.  "Yeah, well, it was good to meet you."  Logan's only response was to arch his eyebrow at him again and a low growl escaped as the younger man made another grab for Rogue's hand, this time securing it.  "Come on.  Let's go."

"Bye Logan."  She let herself be dragged away backwards, her eyes still trained on him.  "I'll see…I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, okay.  I'm gonna hold you to that," he called after her, ramming his hands down in his pockets and glancing at the floor as he and Jean were left alone together.

Grinding his teeth, Scott looked at the floor, as the two of them talked quietly about the assassination attempt on the President and about her upcoming trip to Boston while he went with Charles to visit Magneto in prison.  He tuned out their words, his brain unable to comprehend anything at the moment aside from the body language Jean was giving off.  A combination of come get me and stay back that was making him nuts just seeing it.  Unwilling to stand there and watch his dreams go up in smoke, he started to walk away when Jean's voice caught his attention. 

"You'll be here when we get back.  Unless you plan on running off again?"

"Well, I can probably think of a few reasons," Logan's voice dropped an octave into a gravelly drawl as his eyes swept her up and down, bringing a slow smile and blush to Jean's face, "to stick around."

No way was he going to just stand aside and let Logan just walk off with his girl.  Not without some effort on his part.  If she walked away, then that was different.  But he'd be damned if he were going to just stand by and let the man take her from him.  By God, he'd at least know he'd been there. 

Scott stepped out of his hiding spot and called loudly.  "Find what you were looking for, Logan?"

"More or less," Logan raised his voice so it carried easily to where Scott stood without looking away from Jean.  Then he turned his head and smiled knowingly at the younger man.  And Scott knew he'd known he was standing there all long.  Smug bastard.

Feeling the testosterone thick in the air, Jean smiled at Logan.  "I'll see you boys later.  Bye Logan."

He grinned at her.  "See ya."

With his hands on his hips, Scott watched as Jean walked over to him, her eyes not meeting his.  She slid past him, hugging the wall to avoid touching him, without speaking.  But he caught her sly grin and pointed glare.  He turned back to the new arrival.

"Aren't you going to welcome me home?" Logan smirked at him, and Scott felt himself lose another layer of enamel as his teeth ground together of their own volition.  But he didn't answer, not trusting himself not to reach for his glasses if he did. 

Still smirking, Logan pulled a set of keys from his pocket.  "Your bike needs gas."  He tossed the keys at him.

Scott caught the keys and nearly gave in to the desire to rip the sunglasses from his face and blast Logan into eternity.  It'd solve a lot of his problems.  Eliminate his rival, and remind Jean that he wasn't neutered as she'd accused him of during the fight before this last one.  He wondered fleetingly if he blasted him directly in the heart and blew it out the back of his spine, would he regenerate it fast enough to keep from bleeding to death.  Yeah, taking out the Wolverine would solve damn near everything for him.

Then the look of pain on Rogue's face swam in front of his eyes and stopped him.  She'd lost enough thanks to them letting Magneto get his hands on her.  And that was his fault. 

If he'd gone after her the minute he'd known she'd run, rather than letting Ororo and Jean talk him out of it, then that metal manipulating maniac would never have laid a finger on her.  It was probably the one time he and Logan agreed on anything.  Go get her, right then.  No waiting.  Yet, he had.  And in the end, it had cost Rogue everything.  Her naiveté - in the truest sense of the word.  A little bit of her sense of sanity, the white streaks in her hair being a testament to that.  And in the end, even her life. 

They'd been too late.  By the time he'd taken the shot at the machine, she'd been dead.  Only Logan's quick thinking and pure determination to hold on to her just a little longer had saved her, her skin drawing his regenerative powers from him, bringing her back to life, but leaving himself at death's door in the process. 

That in itself probably wouldn't have bothered Scott overmuch, if not for the fact that it would have crushed Rogue.  As he learned while the adamantium asshole was healing up in the med-lab, losing Logan would hurt her too badly.  And Scott would be damned if he'd be the one to cost her anything else.  No matter how much the smug bastard deserved it.

"Then fill 'er up."  He tossed the keys back with a bit more force than necessary, able to curb his desire to hurt the man only so much. 

Walking away, Scott turned the corner, expecting Jean to be waiting since they needed to go over their itineraries for their various trips.  Plus he wanted to say goodbye properly.  He didn't want to leave with them still mad at each other.  But she wasn't there.  She'd gone on without him.

His anger resurfacing, he turned down the hallway to stalk off in the opposite direction that Jean had taken and ran into Rogue as she came from the other side of the corner.

"Hey!  Watch where you're going, Rogue.  You'll get hurt like that," he laughed as she ploughed headlong into him.  He reached out to steady her.

She jerked violently away from him, slamming herself into the wall.  "S-s-sorry.  Sorry."

"Rogue, honey, what's wrong," Scott gripped her upper arms gently in his hands, able to feel her shaking even through the thick denim jacket she wore.  "Talk to me."

"Bobby…we broke up…" she whispered between struggling breaths.  "He slept…with Kitty…he wants to be with her…"

That little prick.  I should kick his ass.  Then an evil idea occurred to him, and he smiled.  Better yet, I'll let Logan do that for me.  Say what you want about the bastard, he grimaced, he never failed to take Rogue's safety and happiness very personally. Whenever he was around, that is.

That decided, he shifted his attention back to the devastated young woman falling apart in front of him.  Her shaking increased; her shoulders grew more hunched, and her hair fell in front of her face as she tried to conceal her tears.

"Shush," he whispered softly as he gathered Rogue in his arms and rocked her gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, his fingers tangling in her hair.  He could feel her gloved hands scramble desperately for purchase in his shirt as she sobbed against his chest, thoroughly wetting the material beneath her cheek, her mascara probably ruining it.  But he didn't care.  Shirts were easy to replace.  Rogue wasn't. 

"It's gonna be okay, Rogue." He spoke against the top of her head.  "You'll see.  In time, you'll wake up one morning, be completely over it, and you'll wonder why you wasted a single tear on him."

She tipped her head back and something near his heart twisted at the devastated look on her face, and the vague light of hope shining in her eyes.  "Really?"

He smiled.  "Uh-huh.  Really."  Not thinking, he lifted his hand and thumbed away a tear rolling lazily down her cheek.

Scott felt a zap of electricity the moment his thumb touched her skin, zinging along his nerve endings, lighting up everything in it path.  For a split second, it felt good, similar to the first sharp bite of desire.  But then it intensified to being unpleasant.  He pulled back before it could start to hurt or draw him in too much.

"Oh, God, Scott!  Are you okay?"  She grabbed at his hand, turning it over in her gloved palm, looking at it like she expected to see it blackened and burning.

He laughed softly, folding her fingers up in his hand and tucking them against his sternum.  "I'm fine, Rogue.  You didn't hurt me."

"I didn't?  You promise?"

He smiled down at her, and nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  I promise."  She fell silent under his gaze, and ever so tenderly, he raised his hand, thumbed away another tear, lingering longer this time over the charge.  Again he pulled away before it got too intense, feeling his breath weaken just a little. 

For several minutes, the two of them just stood there, in each other's arms, staring into each other's eyes, and neither of them saw Jean watching them from a side corridor.

x-x

And now here they were, he thought with a smile, about to be married.  Nearly two years later and he was happier than he'd been in a long time.  Even before Jean.  That thought gave him pause.  He had genuinely loved Jean.  And he'd like to think they'd have worked out their problems had she lived. 

Maybe not, he amended silently, remembering finding the engagement ring he'd given to her, in its jewelers box on his dresser, when they got back from Alkali Lake.  Her things were still in their room, but the ring, she'd left behind.  Granted, she didn't normally wear it on missions.  She always left it on the gold tray of perfumes she kept on her vanity.  Never before had she left it in its original box on his dresser.  He knew why she did this time.  It was her way of letting him know she'd made her choice.  So no.  That along with some of the things he'd found out about his deceased fiancée after her death made him fairly certain that had she lived, they'd still have been apart now.  But a part of him would always love Jean. 

Now Rogue…his smile deepened.  His sun rose and set in her.  And if that wasn't love, then he didn't know what was.  She was something special all right.  And he was one lucky bastard to have her loving him and not some other unworthy slob. 

Only then did it occur to him what the sound was that had awoken him.  A motorcycle.  A grimace split his face.  Speaking of unworthy… he thought to himself with no amount of bitterness.

Logan had come home.

-x-

 

Silence is the steel that pierces and cuts me to the bone
In dreams the hand that touches you is mine and mine alone
Cruel is the light is the morning shining down on me
Hours with the Devil to understand just what you need
So I wake in the street and I call out your name
Shout to the sky come on
Come on let it rain
Let it rain down on me
Let the rain fill my eyes
Let the rain set me free

            The Late September Dogs - Melissa Etheridge
 

"Logan?"

"Out here, kid." I answer, tryin' to look casual, leanin' against the wall.

She steps out onto the dark patio and hugs her arms around herself as the chilly night air bites into her skin.  "Whatcha doing out here all by your lonesome?"

Tryin' to scrub the image of you kissin' One-Eye outta my brain.  Can't say that though.  "Thinkin'."

She grins at me.  "About what?"

I take a puff off my cigar to buy some time, holdin' the bitter smoke in a little longer than I normally would have, then blow it out again.  I came down to dinner after ditchin' our meetin' in the rec-room like we'd planned because I couldn't face her after hearin' some of the things I had.  I sat down across from her like I used too, and both seats on either side of her were empty. 

Pretty soon, the Spark Plug plopped down on one side and just before we started to eat, who showed up but Cyclops himself.  He walked over to stand behind her, stared right at me, squeezed her shoulders and said, "Sorry I'm late, baby."

Marie turned that thousand watt smile of hers on him and I thought I was gonna gag.  She made some teasin' comment about buyin' him a new watch and then turned her face up to him.  The bastard leaned right over and kissed her.  Full on the mouth, not carin' who was watchin' either.

It was quick, but it was real apparent that they were used to it since he just barely lost his breath at the touch of her skin, and no one around us said a word.  It was almost like they were waitin' for the bomb to go off. 

Considerin' the rumblin' comin' from me, I shouldna been surprised.  That's when it hit me what was off about her scent.  It reminded me a bit of Jeannie, meanin' they both wore in his scent on them.  And that really pissed me off. 

I was about to give them the explosion they all were lookin' for, when I caught Marie's eyes.  Pleadin'.  Practically beggin' me to understand.   Damn it, but I've never been able to refuse that look on her.

So I just looked at the uptight prick and said, "So.  Congratulations."  And I stuck my hand out to him. 

The dining room went dead silent, waitin' to see what he'd do.  But Fearless Leader didn't let them down. 

"Thanks, Logan."  He took my hand and we shook like two old friends.  But both of us didn't pretend that this made us anything that we weren't.  Enemies at worst.  Uneasy allies at best.

And now she's just waitin' for me to answer her.  See what I mean?  Marie's easy.  She gets me.  Which is what makes part of this so damn hard.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seein' Cyke?  Or engaged?"

"I didn't have time, Logan," she laughed a little.  "I had to go to work when you showed up and then you didn't meet me like you said you would in the rec-room."

I ignore the slight admonishment in her tone.  "I meant why didn't you write me or something?"

Her smile fades and her eyes go closed on me.  Huh.   She's never done that to me before.  Wonder why now?

"I tried writin' you, Logan.  You never replied."

"I was busy."

"Yeah," she sighs.  "Busy.  Right."  She's quiet for a minute then asks, "Are you goin' to stay for the wedding?"

The big question.  The one I was hopin' to avoid.  "I don't know…"

"Please?"

"Marie…"

"Please?  I really would like you to be there.  You're the closest thing to family that I've got."

How the hell am I supposed to say no to that, huh?  Tell me.  Because I damn sure don't know.  I sigh.  "Yeah, okay, kid.  I'll stay for the weddin'."

"Good."  She smiles again.  "Are you gonna be okay with this?  Me and Scott I mean?"

Like I've actually got a choice, I want to say, but hold my tongue.  "Do you love him?"  Does he love you, I want to ask, but don't.  I already know the answer to that question.  Bastard.

She smiles at me.  "I wouldn't be marrying him if I didn't love him, Logan.  And before you ask, yes.  I'm very happy.  Can't you be happy for me too?  Just a little?"

Teasin'.  I've missed that.  I just wish it were over something that wasn't…well, wasn't this.  I drape my arm over her shoulders and squeeze.  "Of course, kid.  If you're happy, then I'm happy."

"Really?"  She turns against my chest, and it's like the most natural thing in the world to wrap both arms around her and hold her there.

"Yeah, really."  At least that last part is true.  I hug her even tighter and say against her hair, "Even if it is Captain White Bread in there."

"Logan," she reprimands me.

"What do you want for a present?  These types of occasions call for presents, right?"

She pulls back a little and shakes her head.  "No presents.  I've already got everything I need."

And something about the way she looks and the way she sounds when she says that makes me want to start biting through trees.  She's not supposed to not need me, damn it.  How'd the hell we get here?  How'd I let this happen?

"Rogue?"

A low rumble escapes before I can stop it. 

"Out here, honey." 

With me, I want to snarl at him.  Honey.  Yeeeech.  But I don't say anything.

"You're growling," she murmurs, a trace of disapproval darkening her tone. 

At least that's all I'm doing.

She steps out of my arms completely before he makes an appearance.  and soon enough the One-Eyed-Wonder-Putz comes into view.

"Come on, baby.  It's gettin' late and we've both got to be up early tomorrow morning."  He flashes a cocky grin at me and immediately my hackles rise.

I'm gonna kill him, swear to God.  One step closer and he's gonna get a belly full of adamantium.  I growl louder this time.

"Logan."

I turn to look down at her and those bottomless dark eyes are lookin' up at me like she's expectin' me to kick her or something.   I hate that look on her, and she knows I'll do damn near anything to see it gone. "Yeah, kid?"

"I know what you can give me for a wedding present."

I almost cringe at the thought, but I had made the offer.  "Sure, kid, whatever you want."

"Get along."

I frown at her.  "What?"

She looks at me and then back at One-Eye waitin' in the doorway leadin' back inside.  "From both of you.  That's what I want for a wedding gift.  Get along."

"Rogue -"

"Kid -"

We speak at the same time but she cut us both off.  "No.  No excuses."  She looks at Cyke.  Then she looks back at me.  "You two are the most important men in my life and I can't deal with the thought of bein' caught in the middle of y'all's ongoing arguments.  I don't care if you don't ever become poker buddies or don't even like each other.  All I'm asking is if you're gonna fight and hate each other, don't let it have anything to do with me.  Don't make me choose.  Or we'll all lose.  Understand?"

I stare over her head at One-Eye and he gives me a once over too.  He's hesitatin' and I want to be first.  That shit matters to her.  So I nod.  "Sure kid.  I can do that."

"Me too," Cyke adds with a sour twist to his mouth, lookin' like it'd cost him cool-points to say it.  Then he frowns worse realizin' he'd had to follow me on it.  See, I can be the bigger man.  Hell, I'm already the better one.  And Junior here knows it. 

"Thank you."  Leanin' up, she presses a light kiss right on my sideburns, and it feels like someone has shoved a cattle prod down my spine.  But it ain't got a damn thing to do with her mutation.  This didn't feel anything like that.  And it ain't fadin' either. 

Before I can say anything about it, she walks to where he stands waitin' for her and wraps her arm around his waist. 

He says something to her real low, and I don't listen in because I really don't need any extra shit to give me nightmares over.  She lifts her eyes to me and shakes her head, but he grins at her and answers back, then pushes her a little towards the door.  I can tell by her glare that she's not pleased, but she doesn't say anything to him.

Instead she looks back over at me with an apologetic smile.  "G'night, Logan."

Shit.  I know what's comin' now.  "G'night, kid.  See you tomorrow."  Sure enough, he heads this way the minute she's out of sight.

"So you can get along with me, now.  Is that how it is?"

I smirk at him.  "For her, yeah."

"Pretty quick to jump in there with that."

"Heh.  Suffer, you tight-assed, anal retentive, mother-fucker," I reply, rememberin' how he hesitated over makin' that promise and I didn't.  "I got it in first."

He looks at me, shrugs his shoulders and gives me an evil smirk that's worthy of...well, me.  "Actually, Logan.  No you didn't.  I did."

By the smug self-satisfied sneer on his face, I know damn well he ain't talkin' about my earlier agreement to get along.  He's talkin' about Marie.  My Marie.  And things nobody should ever say about her around me.  Hell, I permanently scarred that icicle boyfriend of hers for fuckin' around on her.  And he hadn't given me the mental images I'd need to bleach my brain to get rid of, that the soon to be eunuch here just did.

A vicious snarl slides from my mouth as I grab him by his shirt and lift him about six inches off the ground.  I welcome the pain as my claws shoot out inches from his face, "Listen up Pretty Boy -"

"What are you gonna do, Logan?"  He's grinnin' at me, the dick.  "Gut me?  That'd kind of go back on your oh so quick promise that we'd get alone for Rogue's wedding gift, now wouldn't it?"

I don't answer, almost willin' him to make a move so it won't be my fault.  So she'll know he struck first.  But he doesn't.  He just hangs there and grins down at me.   

"You can't harm a single hair on my head without makin' Rogue hate you now, can you?  Boy, I bet that just chaps your ass something fierce now doesn't it?"

He's right.  But I'll be damned if I admit it to him.  So I do the only thing I can do.  I make him a promise.  "You hurt her, you die."

His smile widens.  "I expected that.  And believe it or not, since it's the one thing you and I see the same way on, it's also the one thing you don't have to worry about where I'm concerned."

"See to it that I don't."

He nods a little.  "You can put me down now."

Damn if I don't do it too. 

The minute his feet hit the patio, the bastard laughs at me, shootin' both eyebrows up and down in mockery.  "Night, Logan.  Oh, and pleasant dreams."

He leaves without another word, and all I can do is stare after him, rage racin' through my body, makin' my blood boil.  He's right, the smug bastard.  I can't do a damn thing to him and he fuckin' knows it. 

Then I remember the look on Marie's face when she saw me earlier today, before my world slid sideways, straight into hell.  That vice on my chest clamps down again and I struggle a minute to get my breath back, feelin' like someone just changed the rules of the game on me.  My face still tingles where she kissed me.  And I don't think…I don't think it's gonna go away anytime soon.  Like, as in ever.

She kissed me.

Marie.

The cute kid I left behind who turned into a gorgeous woman when I wasn't payin' attention.

My Marie kissed me.  I felt it all the way down to my toes, too.

And I'm lettin' her marry someone else.

God, I'm an idiot.

-x- 

How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace
When I stand here takin' every breath with you,
You're the only one who really knew me at all
How can you just walk away from me,
When all I can do is watch you leave
Cause we've shared the laughter and the pain

And even shared the tears
You're the only one who really knew me at all

I wish I could just make you turn around,
Turn around and see me cry
There's so much I need to say to you,
So many reasons why
You're the only one who really knew me at all
            Against All Odds - Phil Collins 

Well, it's done. 

I managed not to be alone with Marie since I got here two days ago.  I think it hurt her feelings a little, but I couldn't.  Not once I saw who she'd taken up with.  I trusted him to keep her safe and he goes and does something like this.  Damn, I bet Jeannie wasn't even cold before he made his move on my Marie.  For that alone I should use him to mulch the rose garden where her marker is.  And if I ever find out he did this to get back at me for Jeannie, then I'm not gonna kill him.  I'm gonna make sure he lives a long, long time relearning exactly what pain means.  He'll see sides of the Wolverine that no one but Stryker knows about.

As much as I really want to kill him, I can't.  It'd hurt Marie too much if I did.  Then she'd hate me.  And I couldn't stand it if she did.  It'd be like tearin' my heart out of my chest all over again.

At least it's over now.  They left a few hours ago.  The party's still goin' on, but I'm out here on the patio in the dark enjoyin' Chuck's top quality Cubans and a fine glass of whiskey, tryin' not to think about what just happened.  Doesn't work of course.

All I can see is her in that gorgeous white gown hangin' on to Cyke's arm smilin' like she's never been happier in her life.  And damn if he didn't look the same.  Bastard. 

I got a chance to dance with her.  Just once.  Nothin' special because dancin' ain't one of my social graces.  But she wanted to, so I did.  She talked.  I couldn't tell you about what even under pain of torture.  All I could do was look down at her and think about how she was leavin' me.  No, I ain't gonna deny it this time. 

Marie's leavin' me.

And damn if One-Eye didn't just look happy as hell all day.  If he'd a least looked a little green around the gills, I coulda stopped it somehow…and run off with Marie to talk some sense into her.  But no.  He didn't even have the balls to do that.  Gutless shithead.

She said it.  I do.  My gut twists again as I hear her voice in my head promisin' to love him forever.  And that's what blows the most.  She does.  Love him, I mean.  Which means I'm stuck with the pinhead.  I swear to God if he ever, ever hurts her, I'm gonna chop him up and serve him to the damn dogs, no matter what she's got to say about it.  Cyclops Tartar. 

Anna Marie D'Ancanto.  First time I hear her whole name and it's when she's sayin' her vows to him.  She's Marie Summers now.  I slug back another double shot of Gentleman Jack and wish to God I could get drunk.  Regenerative mutation is a real bitch sometimes. 

He's takin' her to back to Alaska, if you can believe that.  For their honeymoon.  Honeymoon.  Makes my skin crawl just thinkin' about it. 

I don't get it.  I just don't.  I mean, I don't want her to be alone or lonely.  I'm happy that she's got somebody decent who'll take care of her…even though I was supposed to do that. 

That's not fair of me.  She's my friend.  I love her and all that, but she's just a kid.  But I gotta admit, she didn't look like the kid I dropped off here nearly six years ago. 

Damn. 

She did go and grow up on me, huh?  And as much as I love her, she's…not…she deserves more than I can ever give her.  Jeannie said it herself.  Good guys stick around.  I definitely ain't known for that, now am I?  At least not where Marie's concerned.  And damn it to mother-fuckin' hell, I should have been.  But I fucked up.  And that's my cross to bear now.

Of all people she could choose - why Tight-Ass Summers?  I mean, couldn't she have chosen somebody I actually can stand?  Like…what about the Furball?  He's pretty cool and we get along just fine. 

And for that matter why not me?  I mean, she had a hell of a crush on me there for a while.  But I guess I killed that by dumpin' her here and runnin' off.  A lot.  Every time she needed me, come to think of it. 

Still…Scooter?  Come on!  There's lots of bad blood between One-Eye and me.  How the hell are we supposed to get along without killin' each other like we promised?

Simple.  We can't.  And that means I gotta go.  But…I promised I'd stick around this time…

I have to stick around.  I've got to hold up at least one promise I've given her.  She's gonna need me.  After all, she's my girl. 

…

She was my girl.  She's Cyke's girl now.

…shit…

I can't stay here.  Promise or not.

Numb, and not even thinkin' about what I'm doing, I pull out my cell and hit a preprogrammed number on speed dial.  I have to get out of here.  Stayin' while they're gone will just drive me crazy and if I'm here when they get back…well, I can't even stomach the thought of watchin' them together.  Just the past two days have been almost more than I can handle without gouging my eyes out. 

Ah, there.  Finally a voice on the other end.  "Hey, Pippa.  Wolverine.  Yeah, it has been a while.  Are you free tonight?  Heh-heh, bad girl.  Yeah.  I'll pick you up.  Gimme an hour to get there.  Lookin' forward to it.  See you soon."

I close the cell with a snap, clip it back to my belt and head upstairs to get my things.  Within minutes, I've changed clothes, cleared out my room, gone down stairs and stopped by Chuck's office just long enough to nod at him before hittin' the front door.  He knew I'd be leavin'.  He knows me too well to think I'd stick around after this.  Damn him anyway for not tellin' me. 

A few minutes later, and I'm crankin' up my bike and pullin' out of the garage.  I stop just past the portico near the front door and crane my neck sideways to look up to the blank window of the room that she'd once lived in.  She used to wave at me from that window whenever I'd leave before.  But it was dark and empty now.  Like so many things in my life.

"Goodbye, Marie."

I open the throttle and lay several inches of rubber down the drive as I get the fuckin' hell out of Westchester.

~fin~

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