Nothing on Valentine
by
Nancy Lorenz


Disclaimer: All characters copyright Marvel and Fox.

Feedback: Feed the Monkey, it'll dance the tango for a dime.

Archive: WRFA, X-Men Movie Fan-Fic. Others, just ask.

Author's Notes: This is Beta read yet.

Thank you to: Molly, for being up and telling me this wasn't sucky.

Dedication: To orange juice. You helped me break my fever, and now I worship you in your serumness of perfection.

---

No prizes for counting
There's a mark on you
There's red in your wanting
All I see is blue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was one of those strangely picturesque days when things began to slope downhill. In the movies, it's always raining when things go wrong. Today, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and things were going beautifully at the mansion. Except for me that is.

Remy LeBeau held my hand as we walked towards the large oak that was favoured by so many people. He smiled at me with that smile, it made me feel warm and safe inside. He was always so gentle with me, and 'about everything' was our conversational topic. He sat me down on the soft grass, glorying in the late afternoon with me. The sky was a deep mauve blue, and everything was fiery with the golden glow of an approaching sunset.

I wove my fingers together, and let him have a smile from me. For some reason, he always wanted me to smile, like it was important to him. Sometimes it was his mission for the day - to get me to smile. When I was missing Logan, that was damned near impossible, and I vowed to him repeatedly that he wouldn't see it.

Somehow, he got one out of me anyway.

"Aaah," he sighed, "Your smile is beautiful, non?"

I just shrugged and blushed at that one. I wasn't a girl to agree with statements to her beauty, no matter how unlikely I found the fact that I was anything special to look at at all. He tipped his head, smiling at me still.

"You don't think of him today, uh? You seem much happier."

Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it, taking a long drag on it, the picture of a rebellious handsome youth.

"Well, ya been keepin' me company," I said, "Kinda makes me think of other things."

He nodded, never anything but sweet to me. He just said. "This is good."

Like always, he was gentle and tender, but something about him seemed distant today. Like he was trying to avoid something - me perhaps? He wasn't his usual overly affectionate self, and I supposed that bothered me.

"Remy, is everything all right?"

"Oh, oui, chaton, oui."

Genuine, with an air of distance. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I didn't think any more on it. Laying back on the grass, I listened to him sing a sweet jazz tune in his young sexy sounding voice, deep yet rich and melting, and closed my eyes. We spoke of lots of things that afternoon. Of people from the north, of the beauty of the Deep South, of foreigners like Johnny and Cameron. Many things. We spoke with great affection about our best friend Jubilee.

"She's a nutball, that's for dang sure."

Remy just smiled - I could feel him smiling, even with my eyes closed. "Oui. Makes de life interestin'."

"True," I nodded. "She was bitching about her ass again the other day. Sayin' it stuck out too much."

"Dat ass a' hers bein' lethal, ma chere. I tell her dis - she non believe me eider."

Usually, when we started talking about Jubilee, we didn't stop. Well, I did, but he didn't. They argued slightly, but they mostly had lively vocal spars. I knew the school picked Remy and I as the relationship that'd happen, it was really a no-brainer in their collective opinions, but they were only seeing relaxed walks, smiles, held hands.

They didn't see the fire like I saw it. The draw, the cling. It was something I felt with Remy, his complete self so delicious and exotic in a familiar home-town kinda way that appealed to me. I never really thought on his behaviour with Jubilee. I just never thought past anyone but myself to take a good look.

Eventually Remy rose to leave, and he placed a kiss on my hair. No one else did that. No one else pressed their lips to me at all, except Logan, and that was some time ago under a stressful circumstance. I couldn't remember receiving the touch of lips, only giving it, up on that cold metal bitch that did exactly what Magneto wanted her to, that he liked so damned much. It was strange, feeling my lips against the softest of skin, and knowing that velvety silk was my own forehead. The shared thoughts thing is a really confusing fuck up if there ever was one. Anyway.

I didn't want to think about Logan again, when I was alone with the dusk turning dark and cold. I'd lived enough nights, moping on the lawn, rummaging around Logan in my head, ending up somewhere with a smoke and a beer and a bad case of the shakes. He hadn't contacted me since the day he left. That was a good year ago now.

I put the thoughts of Logan away, and concentrated on Remy. Remy, who was here in my life now, who cared, who wasn't afraid to smile and show me affection. I clung to that. Perhaps in many ways, I clung to him. Remy never promised to take care of me - he just took care of me, period. Even through everything that would happen, he never gave up on that. I guess I'm thankful that he was such a friend.

~~~~X~~~~

When I got to my room, Kitty was there, reading through my magazines with a bored expression on her face. She leant on a hand, a thoughtful frown to her features. As I entered, she glanced up with those huge blue eyes and quirked a smile.

"Wondered where you were," she said, "Need to talk to you about the Valentine Ball comin' up."

Plodding in, I sat down on the bed, a little wrinkle of thought on my features.

"Why do they call it Valentine? Valentine's day isn't for another six months."

"I told you," Kitty said, frowning with some consideration at an outfit in the magazine, "These rich guys have so many balls-"

I smirked, and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"And FUNCTIONS," she added, "That they run out of excuses to have them. So a Valentine Ball in the middle of August seems like a cute idea to them - kinda like Christmas in July."

"Ah know," I nodded, "It's just so stupid."

"I think it's romantic," Kitty said. She looked up, blinking at me. "Hey - did Remy ask you tonight?"

I shook my head silently. Okay, so I expected him to ask me out. I thought it was something that was a given - Remy would ask me out to the ball. Thing that got me was Kitty didn't look too surprised.

"He's real smooth," she said dreamily, "He's probably thinking up some really cool way to ask you."

"I dunno," I said, sitting down on my bed, "He could choose anybody."

Kitty got a determined look in her eyes, "Dude - I'm goin' Sadie Hawkins on some guy's ass! Sure, I'd never be able to pull in a stunner like Remy - dunno if I want to-"

"Oh please!" I moaned.

I took a lot of time trying to convince Kitty she was gorgeous. The girl had been a major bookworm for a good large chunk of her life, and majoring in computer technologies, she'd applied a 'geek' label to herself. I tried to keep the opinion that her self depreciation about Remy was playful, but I knew the real deal.

She wasn't in love with Remy, per se, and I know if he asked her out she wouldn't know what to do. Probably say yes. A lack of self-confidence does funny things to someone when it comes to relationships - I sure as shit know that one. She looked up to Remy cause he was the kind of dreamy guy a girl is sure doesn't exist. Yet Remy is real. One hundred percent real. He was also the kind of guy girls like Kitty never thought she'd be able to bag, so that allure was there. If she just got it through her head that she could have whatever man she wanted, perhaps she'd not be so neurotic about certain kinds of men like Remy.

Though, this Sadie Hawkins idea of hers was a good sign. I gave her a humoured smile. She responded with encouragement.

"Dude! You should do that yourself! Ask Remy out! Don't let him do all the leading!"

I snorted, looking away, "Ah can't do that!"

Kitty nudged me, "Aww, why?"

It was at that moment the door burst open, Jubilee staggering in with an explosion of excited squealing, waving a single red rose around madly. After getting over my momentary shock, her words hit me like knives, that which I could wrap my brain around anyway.

"And it's so amazing cause DUDE Remy said he wanted to go with ME!! TO the ball - ME!!"

I blinked.

He.... Remy... with - Jubilee?

I tried to contain the stunned ache that slammed through me. I tilted my head, confusion setting up shop in my brain.

"He... he said what?"

Jubilee, jumping up and down on my bed in front of Kitty, spun about, her jaw hanging.

"Oh... oh shit... You're cool with this, right?"

I opened my mouth, it waggled a moment, and I shrugged. From my mouth fell, "Sure! I'm fine! Totally fine!"

She knelt down on my bed, tilting her brows.

"No seriously Rogue, if you're not cool with it, just say so, okay? Cause like - I know you two are real close and stuff, but I figured you were always pining after Logan, and Remy said he liked me an' stuff, so I said yes."

I shrugged, smiling as brightly as I could

My brain slammed down to a calm, controlled state that floated on a huge bubbling bed of past-problems. They had nothing to do with Jubes, nor Remy. They just mixed together with this current problem to create a wonderfully powerful Molotov cocktail.

The first thing my brain pulled itself together to ask itself was 'Are you in love with Remy?'

Self indulgent answer? 'Well I thought he was kinda cool and damn he's good looking...'

The honest to God answer? When I dug deep inside my heart and was true to myself?

'He's great, he's supportive, he's everything a girl could want. He's not Logan.'

I felt like a real pathetic loser, coming up with that I tell you. Great girl, I thought, pine after a guy that is who-the-fuck knows where, who promised to take care of you and promptly forgot about it, who ran off on a mission for his past and doesn't even send you a fuckin' postcard. Xavier tried to explain it once, that Logan had wanted to keep his location secret at all times whilst he was rooting around Government facilities and the like, but it made no difference to me.

It didn't stop me missing his smell, his eyes, his rough yet silky voice that wasn't particularly low, but had the bassy edge that sent my heart fluttering. One thought of Logan, and I was on fire all over again.

Remy LeBeau's attention, for a sweet few moments, made it easier for me to bury the fact that a man that was everything to me wasn't with me at that moment. The drama, the fantasy, the fairy-tale imagery of a ragin' Cajun and his sassy Southern Belle - it all aided the smoke screen in my mind. It kept me safe.

I couldn't deny the pure joy and elation in Jubilee's large dark eyes. I know a lot of men at the school don't look twice at her as a choice for a date. Being the confrontational type, and having a hard life as a foster child before making it as a gifted mutant, kinda made her a bit loud and overwhelming. What Remy suddenly adored about her was - well I didn't understand it.

It was nice and distracting, thinking that Remy LeBeau was totally and without a hope - in love with me. Finding out otherwise was not only a blow to the ego, but a blow to my safety net. I took Jubilee's hand, ignoring the depression spreading through my bones.

"Honey - you go out with Remy, you have yourself a good time. He and I are jus' friends! You know where I'm at!"

Yeah, I felt about 12 foot under. Jubilee smiled with some reserve, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Oh, dammit Rogue, I really love ya, in a totally non-gay way, and I just don't want to hurt you, ya know?"

"Ah know," I nodded, "There's no hurtin' goin' on Ah swear. Me n' Remy? Like old pals, darlin'. Nothing more."

"You promise me?"

I smiled thinly, squeezing her hands, "Ah promise."

~~~~X~~~~

That night, I sat out on the lawn, smoking a cigar, empty beer cans scattered around me, six full ones bound and ready for drinking. Throwing another can away, I grabbed for another one, cracking it open, letting the foul bitter brew into my mouth. For a moment it was sweet and malty, but the hops kicked in and wracked my tongue. I screwed up my face, accepting the assault, gulping down the liquid and enjoying the swimming sensation it gave to me.

"No fuckin' man," I growled, talking to my cigar, "No fuckin' future. No fuckin' hope."

I took a long drag of the cigar, revelling in the heightened sensation of 'Logan' that took me over, and the fact that he was gone. It was abuse, and it was directed at me. Punishing myself for something I had no control over was appealing somehow.

"I fuckin' hate my life, I tell ya."

As I rolled the smoke around my mouth experimentally, I could hear someone opening the glass doors that led out into the garden I was trashed in. I knew by that gait, that well-booted clip-clop Lord-of-the-Dance step, that it was Remy. I sighed, chuggin' on the beer. I didn't want to talk to him. I wasn't angry at him, no. In fact the total lack of anger I had for him was rather surprising. I wasn't angry at Jubilee either. I was just sorry for myself, truth be told.

"You thinkin' about him again, chere?"

I shrugged.

"Bit hard not to, sugs."

He sighed. "What is wrong?"

I snorted. How could he ask me such a thing?

"So," I said lazily, ignoring his inquiry, "You and Jubes huh?"

He shifted uncomfortably, and shrugged. "Eh... oui."

Yeah. "Ouiii..." I repeated slowly. "Oui."

"Chere-"

"No. No." I shook my head then, glancing at him sharply from the deck-chair I was laid out on. I wedged the cigar in my mouth as I continued. "It's okay. I thought about this a lot and I know - we're friends. I'm cool wi' that." The cigar muffled my words, but they hit home. Remy nodded back at me. "S'just," I shrugged, shooting smoke from my lips, "Between missin' Logan and my complete lack of ability to meet any good men - yer all I got."

"Aiee," He sat down on the ground next to me, pulling out a cigarette, "If all you got is me, chere, you need to be meetin' better men."

I eyed him. "You're a good guy, Remy. N' you know it."

"Perhaps," he said.

For a short moment, we watched the sky, our breaths filling the silence with the cricket song and the odd lone hoot of an owl. Too picturesque, like always.

"I dunno," I said in a doleful moan, "Every day passes... he's still gone. Sometimes I think I'm gonna go crazy thinkin' about him Remy. Ah can't stop, yah know? Maybe if it were someone else - someone like you - it'd be easy. Cause it wouldn't hurt. But Logan..." I gave a smoky sigh, tears rimming my eyes, blurring the deep midnight sky around me, "He's in my head. He's always with me. I love it, and I hate it. Doesn't matter what I do - I'm never escapin' it, Rem. Ever."

He was silent as I spoke, watching me with those ruby eyes keenly.

"Maybe dis why we best be friends, chere? Your mind, your heart - it wrapped up always in someone else?"

I turned to look at him then. "You don't think I'd be good for you, Remy?"

He shrugged. "Non, is not that. My heart - it wrapped in someone else too, eh? Like ehh - Wild Bill Hickock, and his Calamity Jane."

"Jesus," I sighed, "That's an image."

"I be de one widout de garters."

"I know," I said, not letting his humour make me smile. I felt a tightness in my brow as I frowned. "Why does it always end up so bad for me?"

"Is bad for everybody, chere."

I gave a sad snort. "You got a girl to help you forget about the bad bits. To paint everything with this big broad brush of 'tra-la-la, that babe is mine, I'm in love'. I got 'fuck I'm a real loser' brush. Big fat bristly brush dipped in paint that doesn't cover anything and never comes out of your clothes."

"You drink *all* of dem beers tonight?"

"Every damned one."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomorrow hurts more today And the next and the next When you place your feet in those pits You know - it's all perspective

~~~~X~~~~

The prospect of losing Remy's companionship hurt more the day before, when I didn't know he'd stand by me no matter what. Jubilee smiled and hugged and didn't mind the fact that Remy sometimes held my hand. I guess she knew that barely anyone but them touched me, so every little caress counted. What surprised me the most about the turn everything took was that it was Remy that stayed close to me through it all, no matter what. They usually say 'Men aren't worth losing friends over'. I think that's crap, especially if the man involved is as good a friend to you as Remy LeBeau was to me.

During the next day, Jubilee was her usual loud obnoxious self, though it was punctuated with blushing looks to Remy from across the room, and secret whispers to Kitty and I that I'm sure neither of us really wanted to hear about. I ignored it for the most part, and a lot of other things, like my feelings on the whole matter, and how deeply it affected me despite my denial that it did anything to me at all.

It was during the Mutant Issues class that all graduates looking to join the X-Men team had to take, that things really started bothering me.

It wasn't Jubilee's hand on Remy's thigh as they sat at a joint desk, nor even her smiles or proximity to him. In fact deep down, I really didn't care about that. Sure, I wondered what was so great about Jubilee that he chose her over me - but that was the usual hurt ego that haunted so many people in such situations.

What really bothered me was the little things. I would lean to Jubilee to ask her something, and get only a perfunctory answer, where the week before I would receive a bombardment of chattering from an enthusiastic friend. A mere whisper from me couldn't obtain her attention anymore, and suddenly talking about television wasn't so fun.

Not when she could have her arms around Remy, or his smell soaked into her own.

I understood it, and a grown-up mature part of my mind accepted it with dignity.

That was the smaller part, the quieter part. The rest of me just got really pissed off.

~~~~~~~

"Did you see her in class today?"

Kitty swirled the rich red dress around her, frowning in thought. "Perhaps I should take this up... Sure babe I did. I still can't believe you're just watchin' it happen - Aren't you going mental?"

She blinked at me, at my face, at my crossed armed pissed off stance, and nodded.

"I retract my last statement. You are going mental. Red is so not my colour - why do we have to wear something red? Stupid rich guy ideas."

I frowned, "I thought you *liked* this idea, thought it was romantic!"

With a flutter of annoyance on her large soft features, she puffed the skirt of the dress.

"Okay, I retract that too."

I couldn't help but smile. Then I remembered my life and the smile slid off again. With a long aching groan I threw myself back on my bed, hair flying about me.

"FUUUUUCK!"

Kitty glanced back at me and shrugged.

"Yup, pretty much how I feel about this colour."

"I don't love Remy."

Letting the dress fold in her arms, she frowned and looked at me. "You don't?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Not like that."

Dropping the dress on a chair by the wall, she traipsed over to the bed, eying me with concern.

"Rogue, are you for real? You've been closer to him than a conjoined twin ever since he got here."

I shrugged. She was right, I had been. Something about him drew me to him, the way he talked, the way he smiled. He was a scoundrel, a long-coat-swirling, gambling, smoking renegade that it took the X-Men six months to convince to sign on. He was dreamy, humourous, I related to him, Lord knows how. I guess, he was someone everyone wanted, or wanted to be like. He was the romantic view of a 'mutant', and what being a mutant could be. Me? Sometimes I felt everyone saw a romantic figure, and not the real person behind all the gloves and scarves and streaks of silver hair. Perhaps we just needed someone who we knew we could feel safe with. Yes, always so safe with sweet Remy.

"I was looking at him touch her," I said, "And I felt nothing."

Kitty crawled onto the bed next to me, folding her hands together as she stretched out on her belly.

"You sure you're not like - denying stuff?"

I ticked the corner of my mouth up in a sad laugh.

"If I was, I probably wouldn't feel like such a damn loser."

Kitty frowned at me in incomprehension.

"Woah wait - loser - you? Why?"

"I feel sad," I said, "When Jubilee pays more attention to Remy than me. Cause she's like my sister, and I thought we were closer than that."

"Oh Rogue," Kitty shook her head, "Jubilee is so excited, you know?"

"Oh I know. I know that there's a perfectly understandable reason for her behaviour. Doesn't make me feel better."

Kitty nodded sadly.

"And I'm thinking - here I am, mourning over a friend getting *on* with her life. Where am I now? Same place I was a year ago when I got here. Binge drinking in the a.m., going through the ground's cigarette and cigar supplies like I was Thomas the Train on a mission and still not over a guy that can't be fucking bothered to contact me after sweeping me off my fucking feet like some fucking - hero!"

Kitty's face screwed up in a wince, and I felt her arm snake around me. I didn't even have to say the 'L' word without her knowing what was washing over me again. Well, it was like a tide. Back and forth, back and forth. It never left me.

Sure, I get on with my life, I learn, I train, I love and all that crap. But you don't forget someone who's in your head. You don't forget someone who you see inside out and still find him utterly fascinating, and feel like there's so much you still don't know about him. I felt perfectly weak for that, for needing him still. I felt screwed over, marred, burned and angered, and then an innocent little part of my mind would bleat out that maybe, perhaps, he was just very busy finding his past.

Sometimes, I'd get Xavier to do a little check, just to be sure. He humoured me, I dunno. He was very placatory towards his students. It was cute really.

He'd get back a strong content signal, always slightly troubled - but that's all I would ever get from him. Xavier would squeeze his hands around my gloved fingers and smile up at me tenderly, saying he'd be home eventually.

I'd smile but - it was probably a hollow expression that he saw right through. Logan had no intention of returning any time soon, I could see that, cause I saw his mind.

I was a pest, something he didn't want to have to care for. It hurt when I first felt that blast into me. It was half the reason I ran away, because in his heart I was something that snuck up on him, his feelings towards me nagging senses of responsibility and devotion. I managed to tie the wandering beast down for a week or two - it must have been a record.

Kitty and I had spoken this over a thousand times. That makes almost three times a day since I got here - yeah that'd be about right. She knew everything I had to say on the matter, and vice versa. So we sat there with our arms around each other, looking mournful, her hand patting my back.

"Don't worry," she said, "Some day he'll come back - and you can rip his nuts off."

Amongst tears, I giggled. The tears were still there though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On starry nights with satin swaths
The mind turns to singular wanting.
Oh how I hate coming back to you
On such pretty perfect nights as this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red dress, red dress... I lay on the green immaculate lawn, in a long red dress. It was sleeveless, strapless, satin with a gauzy fine overshirt that protected and looked elegant. The dress flared out at my hips, reminding me of Audrey Hepburn's style, and my ankles could be seen, with delicate red strappy heels. A lot of people smiled and whispered to each other as I wafted into the room, and they almost didn't notice what a fetching couple Remy and Jubilee made. Almost.

When my outfit, hair and dateless situation became boring, soon eyes fell on the charming couple in the centre of the dance floor, Remy showing Jubilee the finer points of slow dancing. She laughed, her shoulder length hair up in a french roll, mildly asiatic but large brown eyes lighting up at Remy's smile. Jubilee was resplendent in a sleek long dress with silver sparkles, dense at the bottom then growing sparse near her low neckline. The dress was halter necked, low backed - rather indecent if one thought about it, but the long gauzy scarf she wore around her neck and sparkling jewellery gave her the touch of class she needed to rise above the amount of skin show.

I could have been resentful, I could have been jealous. I wasn't about that, however, and I think Jubilee knew this. It was a silent understanding between us, I just wish it had been vocalized, so I knew Jubilee at least cared.

All she saw, however, was our good friend Gambit, and I had that familiar hankering for a cigar and a crate of beer. Jubilee wasn't a bad person, I kept telling myself. She's just in love... I wish I were in love.

Grabbing the nearest bottle of champaign I could find, I plodded out into the garden, digging the cigar I proffered from my room out of my satin red purse, lighting it and wedging it in my mouth as I tried to find a piece of grass that wasn't too wet after that afternoon's watering. I couldn't, so I just lay on it anyway, not caring.

Not caring... such a desolate and empty feeling to not care. All there is is that hollow ache, and a derision because things amuse you when you have no hope. Smiles amuse you. You think, "They're smiling now. So happy. Eventually they'll be crying, because people always end up crying. Happiness is transitory, and ending." In that thought, I hate happiness. It's torture, real torture, because it ends. You end up being sad, wondering where it all went wrong, what the hell you did to get into the situation you're in right at that moment.

Truth be told, I did fuck all.

Love wallowed about within me, a sad twisted feeling that said "He'll never love you."

I knew that. I knew that with a certainty. Logan didn't love me, not like that, he never would. Choice, however, is not a factor in attraction, in devotion. That much is clear when looking into the Logan portion of my mind. He never choice to feel devoted to me, but he cursed it.

Cursed it. Cursed being joined to me somehow.

Was I that pathetic, that gawky and undesirable that my company and my love was poison to him?

Tears sprung in my eyes, smoke burnt my lungs and the bitter tang of the dry white in the sweating bottle in my hands swirled about my tongue like that love inside of me. I don't know how long I sat out there like that, watching the deep blue voice that twinkled of only a few stars that could survive the light of the grounds. Grand music pranced about in the cool night air, and laughter and chatter created a soft hum of noise that in any other situation could have cradled a feeling of merriment.

I was not merry.

Life loved to twist the knife, you know that? Loved to give me that last straw to break my back and completely destroy all hopes of recovery that I hid inside me, cause the grass crunched in the distance, in a loping step that was strange, and yet painfully familiar.

Of all the nights he could have chosen to return, to make his grand entrance, it had to be this one.

Son of a bitch.

I was in love with him though, so no anger. I just ignored him, suckling on the cigar like mother's milk. The boots were scuffed, his hair was messy. Stealing a glance at him when he wasn't to notice I realised he looked like shit. Good.

I blew out the smoke slowly, watching the pretty patterns it made.

"Hey."

I didn't say anything, just kept smoking, swigging from the bottle of champers in my hand.

"You been out here all night?"

I blew out more smoke, tilting my head, letting my eyes rove at the beauty of the dead sky. "You know how to waltz, baby?"

He was quiet for a moment, and when I looked to him he looked really worried.

"Should go in there, let someone teach you. Have fun."

Now it was his turn to be quiet.

"I'd rather you have some fun, Marie."

It hurt, hearing my name from his lips like that. I swallowed a scowl and butt out the smoked up cigar on the lawn next to me. "I don't have fun, Logan, I have distraction. Different thing entirely."

"Bull shit," he said quietly, not quite a growl. "I saw you havin' fun the day I left. Or were you pretending?"

I giggled at that, a twisted giggle. When I spoke, I drawled my words out long and painfully. "The day you left..." I paused, and he stood there quietly. "The day you left, I... I..." I looked up at him. Did I want to say too much? Did I even care anymore? Yeah, there was a point where caring ended. Where you didn't care if they knew or not, or whether love would grace you or leave you a wreck.

"You what?"

I met his eyes then, with a look I'm sure was telling of the shit inside. "I stopped feeling."

He shook his head, "I don't believe that."

"Oh don't you?"

I think he crouched, cause his voice was closer, and I could smell him. A little twist of fullness in his scent cause he probably hadn't had a shower that day, and a slight waft of cologne. Soap, so slight. My eyes keep looking at the sky though.

"No," he said. Softly, he said it. Damn him. "You wouldn't be out here, like this, if you didn't feel anything."

I snorted, but inside I cursed him. "I guess you're right. I guess, my problem is that I felt a little too much."

Glancing up at him I saw his brows twitch downwards.

"Your mind makes an interesting night's searching, sweet-cheeks."

Settling back on his haunches, he looked deeply regretful. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

"I'm not," I said, digging out a cigarette idly. "If I hadn't seen it, I'd still have hope. And hope's dangerous, so I'm rather glad I'm without it."

Shaking his head, he plopped back onto his bottom, digging out a cigar of his own and lighting it. "That's some more bullshit I don't believe."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Huh?"

He shrugged as he lit his cigar, taking a big long drag on it. "I heard what happened with the fag with the cards, Rogue."

I nodded, feeling stupid for some reason and blushing profusely. "And?"

"Well, they said you were keen on him. And I see him out there with Jubilee. Doesn't take a scientist to see-"

I laughed a barking laugh that echoed off the nearby pond that lined the walkway towards the big large oak we all loved. His expression had paused, and he frowned.

"What?"

I giggled, pointing at him with my cigarette. "You think I love Remy!" He opened his mouth a little, but my giggling stopped him. Maybe because it wasn't that funny, or maybe because tears that weren't of amusement were beginning to well and spill down my face. By the time I finished the laughter, a sob shook my chest, and I glared at the sky with hatred. "I don't love him. Not like that. I wish I did, baby. I'd be out here and sad for a reason. Nope, I'm out here, and sad, cause I have nothing, asshole. Nothing. Not you, not a life, not love - nothing."

"You're wrong."

I whimpered, turning away from him. There was a warm hand on my shoulder, gripping with a firmness I missed so much.

"Marie, look at me."

I snuffled, shaking all over. "No."

"Marie..."

I moaned, resisting the hand that made me meet those eyes. Those eyes, their tenderness, they ignited that damned hope within me again, and I didn't want that. He pulled me over to him, against him, not giving me any option but to look him in the eyes.

"Ya got me, baby, you hear me?"

I shook my head, but he just pressed his lips together in a firm frown.

"You have me, Marie. Always. No choice in the matter." He paused, watching my eyes, the way I cried. "Can't you feel that inside?"

I frowned, anger rising in me. "All I feel is burden, Logan. You curse me."

The look of disbelief on his face was priceless. I'd not seen it since he accidentally stabbed me.

"You think that's how I feel?"

"I know it is."

He put me down then, pushing me away, stubbing out his cigar and shoving it in his pocket. He looked around, as if searching the scenery for what to say next. He glanced at me twice, before speaking. "Tell me, Rogue. You ever... you ever have an argument with someone?"

"Of course."

He nodded at that. "Yeah, course you have." He fiddled with his fingers a moment before continuing. "Well - you ever remember a part of that argument, absolutely positive that someone said something in a certain way, and that it meant something, only to find that you got it totally wrong?"

"Oh no," I shook my head. "What I see in here Logan, what I feel-"

"It's all through your own head, it has to be."

I sniggered coldly. "Yeah, why's that?"

I just stared at me then, and shifted uncomfortably. He sniffled, looked away, shrugged. Suddenly he was nervous, uncertain. "Cause you're wrong."

I blinked at him. "You don't curse me?"

He shook his head.

"What about what I saw in my head Logan? You thought it or it wouldn't be there."

"When I left," he said slowly, thoughtfully, "I was afraid." He jutted his bottom lip out, a guilty look playing on his features. "You're not a child, Marie. You're not a woman..." Ouch. "I don't know what you are. I dunno how to see you."

I nodded, looking away. "Everyone's afraid of me like that."

"I'm not."

Whoop-de-fucking-doo. He thought he could waltz back in my life, pull me back from desolation and heartache like a prince in shining armour?!

"Logan, you left me-"

"Bullshit."

I glared at him.

"I left this school, and I said I'd be back. I am."

I sat up, a heaving breath making my skin catch against my gauzy shirt. "Over a *year* later?! What the fuck were you doing out there?!"

He took up the bottle of champaign I'd run off with, sniffing it gingerly. "Lookin' for shit."

I spluttered. "And did you FIND it?"

He frowned at me comically. "Kinda."

I whimpered, but there was humour in the sound as I hit his shoulder. He was hard, real, it sent a shock through me. It was a confirmation that this wasn't some wiggy dream. Well it wasn't - if it were I'd have been rolling around with him on the grass naked by now. I played with my fingers nervously.

"Did.... did you find out anything about - about your past?"

His eyes grew distant, and he looked away. The pain he felt - I could feel it. It was raw, reaching. "No."

"Oh."

Glancing down to the bottle in his hand, he took a quick swig. I watched him a moment, my insides melting, softening, losing that harsh resolve that had steeled me not a moment ago, that I'd never be happy.

"Logan?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you stayin' now?"

He looked to me, swilling the alcohol around in his mouth with a wince and nodding.

I suppressed the smile inside me, looking away. Okay, so I wasn't happy. I wasn't. A little relieved perhaps. Maybe the full ramifications of the object of my romantic torture returning to be constantly under my nose had missed me at that point. All I knew was that I'd see him again, I wouldn't feel like I was starving anymore.

"Why?"

His eyes met mine, warm, devouring. "I made a promise, Marie."

I shrugged lightly, the movement being lost in the shuddering I felt. "I'm a big girl now, an' I'm all safe in this big house. You don't have to look after me anymore, no obligations."

He still stared at me with that look. "I want to, Marie, I want to keep that promise. No obligation."

"Really?"

He nodded. "You made your mark, Kid. I'm keepin' ya."

I'm not sure if it was the twinkle in his eye as he muttered those words, or the way the corner of his mouth ticked up as he finished his statement, but the anger, the resentment, the loneliness, it all crumbled. I felt a hand wrap around my wrist, pulling me forward, and as I felt myself being wrapped in strong arms, my face nestling against dirty leather and flannel, my last piece of resistance broke.

Tears spilled down my face once more, no restraint this time, no effort to hide it being drawn upon. I clutched him, held him, let myself surrender to it all, and he pressed his lips to my hair, so tenderly like I needed it to be.

"I missed you," I sobbed softly, "I missed you so much."

"You too, Marie." He squeezed me tightly. "I'm back now. I'm not leaving you again."

For the first time in what felt like years, a smile lived inside of me, something akin to happiness that I didn't despise, that wasn't a distraction from any ache inside of me. It existed on it's own, free and easy and warm. On the crest of that wave of relief, on the top of that mountain that I'd roughed, it became clear.

The pain, the sadness, the agony - it passed. Sure, it came again, but it passed. It wasn't happiness that was transitory, it wasn't joy and security that were fleeting. I was wrong, in so many ways, and I'd never been so relieved of my own faults than I was at that moment.

I don't know how Logan meant his words of affection, or whether his feelings regarding me had changed since I'd fist touched him, but I knew enough not to fear being hopeful. Not when he was keeping me, not when I was his.

He handed me the bottle of champaign, and gave me a smile. The night suddenly lifted a touch, and I chanced that maybe, just maybe, I was feeling a little bit merry.

~~~~~~~~~~~

How could I err so?
With your fragments rich inside?
Understanding bearing fruits
No longer will I hide.



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