Wicked Game

disclaimer: don't own any of the x-men


note: any mistakes you may find are mine... (I really should get someone to beta read this story, I know, but ... oh, well ...) Suggestions and ideas and feedback are most welcome *s*

thanx again to some of my fav Logan/Rogue sites out there, they are each a muse to me (though I tend to spend too much time online because of them ... *shrugs* who cares? *s*) w&r.com and wrbeta mailinglist, L&M.com, roganforever.com, uxn.net ...


What was he to do with her? Logan knew he ought to tell someone, but who? Xavier? Jean, she was a doctor after all. No, he could never trust Rogue’s problems with Jean, that would be disastrous. Ororo? Did he have the right to in the first place? Did he? If it only had been a nightmare and just that … He wondered how much that horrible incident was connected to Rogue’s abilities to control her power. She’d always been very reluctant about letting people get close to her, in any way – he remembered when she’d first explained it to him, all those years ago back in Canada, in his truck – and all in all it would certainly explain her stance and reactions.

Logan sighed and tried to shift in the bed, his back hurt from resting in the same position for hours. But if he rolled over, Rogue might wake up and she was finally asleep. If they had the answer, or part of it, to her problems then they also had some of the means to solve it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Rogue opened her eyes. She was still tired, and feverish, and had no idea how long she’d been asleep, but knew where she’d slept. Logan’s bed. For a moment she panicked before it all came back to her, and sighed with relief. It was only then that she also realized that he wasn’t the only one covered by the quilt. He’d managed to pull it out from underneath her, even though he knew the risk he was taking. Fortunately she was all covered up in a long sleeved, ankle length robe, and he’d also pulled up a bit of the quilt to cover his shoulder, made sure she could safely rest her head on it.

She lay there staring at nothing, just listened to his heart beat, his breathing, and the faint noises from the machines. It was all too surreal. Looking up at Logan she could see that he appeared to be strained even in his sleep, sweat beaded on his face. She reached up to trace the lines of his cheek with her fingertips, something she’d done only once before. Touching him seemed the right thing to do, she wanted to know what it felt like, just once more, without that other person backing away from her, scared of what might happen to them. Not that Logan was scared, or so he kept telling her. There was more to him than just that bad boy attitude of his. He obviously hadn’t shaved for at least a couple of days, at least, and he definitely needed a shower. The hair was a mess, but so was hers, and on the other hand, neither of them was exactly fit for a party. What was there to celebrate anyway?

Rogue turned her back, still curled up against Logan. Every window, and the glass door leading out to the balcony, was open, letting in fresh air. This close to dawn, she watched the first pale yellow light of morning fill the view outside, and also finding its way into the room. She felt Logan move, he rolled over and spooned her. He slid an arm around her waist, and nestled against her back and buried his face in her hair. Maybe she should’ve stopped him, but he was sound asleep, and she was too tired and content to even care. She yawned and closed her eyes. Sleep took her moments later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When he came too, Logan stifled a yawn. The soft scent of flowers filled his senses, and he felt the touch of someone’s hair against his face. Rogue.

Oh shit...

Fuck.

Rogue was in his bed, he thought as he realized he cradled her against him. His morals had obviously left the building, or she would be back in her own room. Being this close to Rogue, having her asleep in his arms was probably as close as he would ever get to her. Logan smoothed his face. Okay, think, you idiot, think, think, think! How are ye gonna explain this to her when she wakes up? How did she end up here anyway? I thought she couldn’t stand being near me, she always keeps telling me to back off. Like that should matter anyway, you know Charles would go ballistic if he knew. Oh fuckin’ Christ, Logan, what the hell were you thinking?! She’s only a teenager for god’s sake, no, you have to get her to leave …

Rogue rolled over, still asleep. Her face was a kiss away. Well aren’t we Mr fuckin’ poetic today. She looked relaxed though, besides a small frown between her brows. The morning sun making its way through the room made her dark brown hair sparkle, like color of dark honey, or ember. Still resting on his arm, Logan traced her back with one hand.

“Mmmmm … “, she hummed.

Should he tell her to leave? Did it matter? Was she going to freak out waking up in his bed? He also wondered if Jean had stopped by, she was a doctor after all … Where was she anyway? Probably getting comforted by Scooter. Logan studied Rogue’s face, and as he studied her now he remembered how young she was, and still … Like most mutants she’d been through a lot, but not every one of them had had such a hard time growing up. She’d been through hell and back, taking blows from the society, other people, even mutants. Especially mutants, he thought. This was the second time he’d saved Rogue from a mutant trying to kill her. Magneto he’d taken care of, but the other one … He couldn’t understand why she would even want to be in the same room, let alone the same bed, with someone who’d nearly killed her. Twice actually, since he accidentally had stabbed her some years ago when they’d just arrived at Xavier’s school.
Rogue suddenly awoke, and met his gaze.

“Mornin’ kiddo”, he said, and felt the corner of his mouth twitch.

“What did Ah tell you about that nick …”, she said sleepily and yawned.

“Make me, and maybe I will.”

“Logan …”

“Yeah?”

Rogue frowned at him. “You look like shit.” She tried going for serious but ended up giggling.

“Really?” He barked a laugh.

“Seriously, you do, but how are you feeling?”

“Well, I may look like shit”, he said, pulled out and ripped off tubes and band aids, “But I feel … well, I feel pretty okay actually. What ‘bout you?”

She was silent, pondered about it for a while. She seemed to be at ease, and that was probably a good thing, Logan thought.

“Hungry”, she smiled.

“Now that you mention it, I’m starving.” He really was hungry and thirsty, the very thought of food and eating …

“Logan?”

“Yes … ?”

“Do ya think this is wise?”

“What is?”

“This”, she said, her voice serious all of a sudden.

Shit. That. “Oh”, he managed to say.

“Oh?”

He made a sound in his throat, while franticly tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot. No … too difficult at the moment to answer questions like that one. But he wasn’t about to let her know he was … embarrassed … in a way.

“Logan … ?”

“Yes, what now?”

“Your hand …”

He was all too aware of his hand that rested on her hip, the smooth feeling of the silk robe and beneath it, the warmth of her skin.

“Ya know, ya really should remove it …”

“I know”, he said quietly and shifted it to the lower of her back.

“Logan …“

“Mmm?”

“Don’t …”

“I can’t”, he said softly, and pulled her closer to him.

Rogue put her bare hands on his chest. “Ya don’t know what you’re doin’.”

“Marie …” He could feel the heat from her skin, through the robe, and her hands that touched him.

“Ah’m sorry … Ah’m just scared.” Rogue buried her face in her hands.

“Why?”

“You …”

“Me? But why, Rogue?”

“Ah’m scared because … scared that if Ah touch you, you’ll go away. It always ends like that.”

“But you want to?”

Rogue nodded, but refused to meet his gaze.

“Don’t be scared,” he said and took her hands and put them against his chest, “I’m not.”

“Okay …”

“Okay?”

Logan traced the white streaks in Rogue’s hair, and breathed in the sweet scent of all of her.

“ … lilies … jasmine … “, he whispered and brushed his lips against hers. The touch was soft, warm. Careful. It held beauty.

“Again”, she murmured and slid her arms around his neck, careful not to make more skin to skin contact than what was necessary.

Logan kissed her, slowly and gently. He parted her lips, and wanted to linger there. He tasted her with his mouth, with Wolverine’s senses. The urge was strong and overpowering, and as he felt Rogue respond to the kiss, the feeling grew. Kissing her was everything. It was wonderful, but it also brought something else – the lust racing through his body both sharpened and disrupted the senses at the same time.

As he withdrew from Rogue, her touch left a slight tingling on his lips, in the mouth. It was the first trickle of power that had started to flow between them, a small part of his life force leaving him. He felt his body start to recover from the dimly weakening tension that lingered where she’d kissed him. Somehow, the thoughts that had gone through his mind, must have showed on his face.

“I’m okay”, Logan said, and stroked her cheek with his weathered thumb.

Her uncertainty was as evident as the flowery scent. She smelled of insecurity and need. “Ah don’t believe ya.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

“You’re making this even harder sayin’ things like that …”

Logan placed a finger over her mouth. “Please, Rogue, let it go.”

“No, Ah can’t”, she said and struggled out of the bed. From Logan’s bed.

He watched her head towards the bathroom. A moment later there was the sound of the shower being turned on. Logan sighed and managed to get out of bed without stumbling. He felt a lot better than he’d expected, a little bit shaky and dizzy, but okay under the circumstances. Hesitating outside the bathroom, he carefully said her name. This was a sort of a … peculiar … situation.

“Go away”, came from the other side. Even through the door he could smell her grief.

“Rogue, don’t do this”, he said, leaning his forehead against the door. Don't ...