Wolverine X-Fiction

Twenty-One Now
by
Nancy Lorenz

Disclaimer: All characters copyright Marvel and Fox.

Archive: Ok to list archives, Kielle, anyone else, just ask! (I will probably say yes).

Feedback: Kiss me, I'm Australian. (Yes please!)

Author's Notes: This isn't Beta Read yet. Sorry. And - Gowdie said there was a strange tense change in there somewhere. Or POV change (like from Third person to First). For the life of me I CAN'T find it. If you do - tell me so I can fix it for when I archive it? Thanks!

Dedication: Wow. To each of the Angst Grrls for helping me go through this. THANK you. This story is about reaching an age that makes you think "Fuck - woah... where did all the time go? That SUCKS! I want it BACK!" And it's dedicated to Logan in all his perfect hairyness. Viva Le Testosterone!!

Musical Inspiration: Milk and A Stroke of Luck by Garbage. Stroke of Luck is THE L/R song, I decided.

She was really gone. Her whole body hummed, and she felt slightly dizzy. Jubilee was already blown halfway to hell, and being those three months away from legal age, she really shouldn't have been. She wasn't sure if Xavier knew what was going on, she knew he'd be having a conniption fit if he knew. Oh well, that'd have to wait till his elite corps staggered home from Lily Page's Tavern.

She'd hoped that they'd go to the Tavern for her birthday. She'd seen Logan hop on his bike and trail down there every day since he returned from the Rockies, and often the other X-Men would follow. She wanted to see the place he visited so frequently. She'd had many fantasies of wandering down there one day, in a beautiful dress, dancing with him under the dim light on the dance floor (if there was even a dance floor). Who knew. She'd punch a number in a dirty old jukebox and watch Logan suckin' on a cuban from the end of the bar. Yeah... them's the fantasies a girl's teens are made of.

Now, she was wild. Every tiny little inhibition smashed to the four winds, and it was perfectly, wonderfully, absolutely LEGAL. Marie wasn't a teen anymore.

It had started innocently enough. She was sitting in the library, reclining on a leather two seater. She sat up as Logan wandered over to her, sitting down next to her. He gave a stiff sniffle, looking anywhere but her, hands planted firmly on spread knees.

"The gang's goin' to Lily's tonight."

She glanced up, a light smile lifting her lips, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You comin'?"

She kept quiet, a little shrug taking her. He knew what day it was. He never said a thing, just looked at her with those hazel eyes, which in the bounced light that shone off the pages of the book she had in her lap, looked a warm olive green.

"Ah might."

"You better," he said, "We're expectin' ya."

And that was it. He got up and loped off, leaving her alone with her Shakespeare's Sonnets. She pouted after the hunkering shape. He didn't even say Happy Birthday.

She didn't know how this invitation got out. It was just her and Logan in the library. But the next thing she knew, Jubilee was bounding up to her and babbling about going to the tavern tonight.

"But you're only twen-y" said Rogue.

"Big deal," Jubilee waved a hand, "Like Lily gives a shit anyway."

She frowned at the younger woman, "But what if you get caught?"

"Who's gonna bust us? I mean honestly?"

"Mr. Summers," she said, and Jubilee sank a little.

"Huh... didn't think of that. Damn." Jubilee kicked an old wooden chair, making it clunk against the ground. "This isn't FAIR! I'm your best friend! I should be there!"

"Maybe if I talk to him. I mean you are twenty."

Jubilee's face lit up, "Really?!"

Rogue smiled, "Of course."

"Ooh, thanks Marie!"

Jubilee hugged her best friend tightly, the waft of the girl's vanilla perfume drowning Rogue. Other senses meant a lot to her, when touch was diminished from the silky gloves. With these gloves, everything felt silky. Often, when she was thinking, she would run the back of her thumb over her lips, the silky material running over them. It was cool at first, then grew warm. Smooth and flawless. She wrinkled her nose and sighed.

She had to talk to Cyclops - into breaking a rule. Jesus Christ, this'd be a hard one.

* * *

Scott Summers looked up at her, his face unreadable behind the ruby-coated shades. He sat at his desk in his office, a pile of papers in front of them, his swashy hand marking the top paper. The corners of his mouth lifted.

"You're kidding right?"

She could only shake her head, feeling her insides grow warm with nerves. Scott tilted his head, he opened his mouth. He snorted out a sigh and closed it. He did an array of annoying little things that sent Rogue's nerves to the end of their tether. He tapped the end of the pen he was using on the book, pursing his lips. Then he looked back up at her again.

"You know what Jubilee is like..."

"Ah know," Rogue sighed, "It's just she and Kitty and I - we're all real close. It's not fair that Jubes misses out cause of a couplah months!"

"It's plenty fair," he said with a dry smirk, "She's under age, Rogue, it's the law."

"Ah know," she said, "But I can hardly have a good time if I know she's been left here cause she's a month or two younger than me, you know?"

Cyclops let out a long sigh now, a smirk taking his face.

"You know what Jubilee is like, don't you?"

"You kiddin'?" Rogue snorted, "She's my best friend, of course Ah do."

"You also know that she's a pistol."

Rogue nodded, "Sure, I know that. But you guys are gonna be there. It'll be okay."

Pressing his lips together, Scott let out a final sigh.

"Okay, I'll talk to Lily. I'm sure she'll be okay with Jubes going - but we're watching her - you got that? No drinking!"

Rogue sighed with relief, jiggling on the spot and grinning, "THANK you Cyke, I can't thank you enough!"

She grabbed his hand, squeezing it briefly before racing out of the small office. When she'd got to Jubilee, informing her of Cyclops' decision, the whoop of joy could have reached the eardrums of a deaf man with no difficulty. It seemed kinda ironic that all the 'No alcohol now, dear' speeches went to Jubilee.

Up in her room, she dug through her drawers, riffled through her closet. Jubilee was behind her with her words of fashion wisdom. She grabbed a singlet dress and waved it about. "Oh wear that wear that!"

She could only glare at the girl. "How am I supposed to relax an' enjoy myself running around with all that skin exposed?"

Jubilee grinned and chanted in a breathy tone, "Sheer body stocking, sheer body stocking!"

Rogue frowned, "Call me crazy - but with the black sheer one I got, I think it might work..."

"With wrist-length gloves and cute little shoes."

She smiled at the excited youth, who grabbed her, dragging her towards her chest of drawers.

"Oh Rogue, we're so gonna do you up tonight. It's number twenty-one, and we're not going to go for second best today!"

Rogue twisted her lips with some embarrassment, "It's only Lily Page's Tavern."

Jubilee yanked out a palette of "It's YOUR birthday baby."

"Maybe you should tell Logan that."

Her friend glanced up at her, "Huh?"

Shrugging, Rogue looked away. It seriously bummed her. She didn't care that it was her birthday. All Logan could do was grunt some pitiful excuse of an invitation at her and expect her to be all smiles. Not that she wanted a manned escort or anything, but it was a special day.

"He didn't say happy birthday to me," Rogue pouted.

"Well it's only five," said Jubilee, "Maybe he'll tell you later." She pulled out a lush pink lipstick and frowned at it. "I say brazen berry for tonight."

Rogue sighed.

* * *

Jubilee had been hours doing herself up, bragging to Bobby, John and a few of the other young boys how she was going to go to Lily's that evening. Pointless really, considering Bobby had turned 21 the year before. Jubilee shoved a lot of make-up products and facials in Rogue's direction, but Rogue politely told Jubilee she'd already set out her beauty plan for the evening. It was when it was a mere hour to go till Logan would be by her room to take her to Lily's Tavern that Jubilee discovered she didn't have one. Logan... he seemed somewhat disappointed when she told him that Jubilee would be coming along, at least until she mentioned that Jubilee was hitching a lift with Bobby. Rogue shifted her mind off of that - it was pointless fawning over Logan. It was one of her deadly weaknesses. Everywhere else she was the silent strong type, but the second Logan was in the room she was as giggly and flirtatious as Jubilee in the mall on a Saturday. Speaking of the Devil's teen spawn...

Jubilee burst into Rogue's room with her hair in a towel and her fingers splashed in nail polish. She skidded to a halt and glared at Rogue.

"Dear God," she said, "Please don't tell me you're wearing that tonight."

Rogue looked down at herself. Pleather jeans, black chunky boots, a black sparkly scarf, a skin-tight gauzy shirt with the first few buttons undone and long gloves clothed her body. She looked up to the youth and nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh man!" she kicked the floor with a bare foot, "Come on, Rogie, it's a special night!"

"We're goin' to a dingy tavern," Rogue replied, "Not a damned ball!"

Jubilee sighed, "It's a dingy tavern filled to burst with gorgeous available mutant boys!"

She looked up from the book in her hands and glowered. "I'm not gussyin' myself up merely for boys, Jubes."

Jubilee grinned widely, "Of course not! I know who you want between your little legs."

Rogue gasped, "JUbiLEE!"

Jubilee collapsed into laughter, pulling the towel off her head and drying her hair vigourously.

"Well it's true isn't it?"

Rogue blushed wildly, hiding her face in a gloved hand. She kept thoughts like that thoroughly secret, truth be told. She scowled at the girl.

"I don't know - who are you thinking I want between my legs?"

Jubilee giggled and threw herself at the wall, posing dramatically, "That scurrilous thief - Remy LeBeau!" She pouted a kiss and giggled, "Ooh la la!"

Rogue knew if she'd been drinking something she would have burst it all over her lap. Remy?!

"Gambit?" she gasped, "Where'd you pull that one from?"

"Oh come on!" Jubilee laughed, "You're always playin' so coy with him!"

Rogue frowned, "It's called avoiding him, Jubes. He's a creep."

Jubilee cocked her head. "Hey honey - when they're lookin' that good who cares!?"

"I do."

Jubilee rolled her eyes, "You're probably the only chick he'd actually stick with, ya know!"

"No he won't, he's a slut," Rogue said simply. "He'll flirt with me, get dewy eyed then traipse on over to Kitty and start callin her his 'petit chaton'." Rogue imitated the thief with great distaste.

"Wow, you really do hate him," Jubes cooed.

"I don't think he's really french," said Rogue.

Thankfully Jubilee looked at herself in the mirror and saw her hair.

"Oh MY God!" she sputtered, "Gotta go!! Hair-care calls!"

She raced out of the room, leaving Rogue to the silent quarters. The young woman rolled her eyes, letting loose a long sigh. She checked her watch. Hmm... half an hour to go. Her stomach flopped and she looked up in the mirror. The reflection was barely any different to that of the face she saw three years ago when she'd arrived here. Everyone else made out like she'd made some huge transformation, but she felt just the same. So her cheeks were a little thinner, something about her features had shifted - probably downwards knowing the awful descending spiral that was ageing which she would embark upon in the following years. Inside though, despite the clutter of minds that had been managed and dealt with now so carefully, she was still Marie. Still the same old Marie with the dreams of travel and fun and romance. The first two - well they weren't dashed. Hah. Romance. She absently fingered the chain around her neck, and she unlatched it, pulling it down to have a good look at it.

She ran her fingers over the letters... W... O... L... V.... Wolverine...

It was odd how her heart warmed so much at those words. The raised letters shone more brilliantly than the rest of the tag from months of her bare fingers running over it, over and over. It was the only part of him she could touch without being shrouded. She remembered years of fondling the slip of metal with the Wolverine away from her. Jubilee would scold her. It was when Logan returned and let her hold onto the tags that touching them, examining them, adoring them, became a strictly secret matter. She sincerely doubted that Jubilee would understa-

The door bumped open, Rogue jumping slightly, dropping the tag on the table.

"Oh man that's so much better!" sighed Jubilee, running a small comb through her hair, striding into the room. "I just can't live wit-"

Rogue slammed her hand down on the table. Jubilee glared at her.

"Rogue... what's under your hand?"

"Nuthin'..."

Rogue's eyes were wide... innocent. Too innocent. Jubilee strode forward, pointing at the gloved hand that bobbled chain seemed to snake out of.

"Oh no..."

Rogue shook her head, guilt seeping into her features.

"That better not be what I think it is..."

Jubilee grabbed at the chain, yanking the tag out from under Rogue's hands. Rogue gasped.

"Jubilee, no!" she bleated.

Jubilee held up the chain, eying the tag as if it were a five week old sock.

"My GOD," she snorted, shaking her head, "My.... GOD."

Rogue frowned, "Please... please give it back."

Jubilee's dark eyes shifted to Rogue's. The girl's voice had been hushed, dulcet and oh - so yearning. She could see it in Rogue's baby-deer eyes. She wanted that tag back more than anything in the world, her heart was breaking for it to be away from her person. Jubilee shook her head.

"Logan... LOGAN!" Jubilee said, "I mean - LOGAN?!"

"No!" Rogue shook her head, "No no no, it's not like that!"

"Whatever it is, I don't care, it's not healthy," said the eurasian, "I mean granted, the guy has one hell of a bod but a; it's too hairy, b; he's too OLD, c; What the HELL are you thinking with Remy on your ass?!"

Rogue huffed, desperation welling up inside her, "I don't care how old he is!"

"Well someone's gotta!" Jubilee cried. "What about Remy?!"

Rogue shook her head, "I don't care about Remy, all I want is Logan!"

Jubilee choked, eyes flashing, taking a shaken step back. Rogue blushed wildly, hiding her face in her hands and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I - I meant the tags!"

"Ho no you didn't sister!!" Jubilee said, shaking her head, "These are going back!"

"Jubilee NO!"

Rogue jumped to her feet as Jubilee spun about, storming to the door.

"NO Rogue," the girl said, pointing at Rogue and hiding behind the open door, "You're going to stop this! THREE YEARS, Marie, THREE. Doesn't that worry you?"

She shuddered at hearing her name from the girl. She could have been angry, could have been violent, but all she felt was the panic of the metal not being against her skin in some way or form. Jubilee's eyes narrowed suddenly as she rattled the metal in Rogue's face.

"You know why they call these 'dog tags' Marie?"

Rogue clenched her teeth.

"Cause it means if you WEAR them, someone OWNS you! Men in the army put this on Logan cause they were saying they owned HIM. Like a fucking DOG! And Logan put 'em on YOU!"

Jubilee spun about, slamming the door on Rogue, her footsteps thumping down the hallway outside.

Rogue couldn't move. The words of her friend slammed through her, creating the most stunning yawning in her chest. Did... did Logan... No no no. It was a friendly kid thing, a brother thing. Nope, Jubilee was wrong, it was all a mistake, and that wanting Logan thing was a slip of the tongue.

But damn it all - she had to get those tags back.

* * *

After thumping on the door it opened swiftly revealing the shocked face of Logan, his hair neatly combed to points and wafting of that spicy aftershave he always splashed on. She grit her teeth, noticing his efforts, and shook the tags in his face.

"You're a fucking jerk, you know that?!"

Logan blinked.

"What the hell were you thinkin', givin' her THESE?!"

Logan opened his mouth, closed it, eyes wide and confusion washed over him. "I thought she liked wearing them..." He gave a shrug.

"Oh yeah," Jubilee nodded, disgust in her features, "Just have her wear them like your little groupie! Nice, Logan, real nice! Jeannie ain't enough for ya huh?!"

Anger tensed the older man's jaw. "Jubilee... I like ya so I'm gonna warn ya -back off."

"What, ya gonna impale me too?!" she sneered, "Oh - of course not. You only do that to people ya like!"

She threw the dog tags in Logan's face, the metal raining down on his features. He pulled them down, glowering at the girl.

"How did you get these?"

Jubilee wrung her features, the sadness in them hitting Logan like a slug in the guts.

"She was playing with them. Just now."

Logan nodded silently, his own fingers sliding over the metal. Jubilee huffed, her face hard.

"When you left, she held onto the things like a fucking life-line. She never took them off Logan, EVER. Sometimes, she'd take off her gloves just to touch them! Then you came back, and I thought she gave them back, cause I didn't see them anymore."

Logan shook his head, "I said she could keep 'em, if they made her happy."

Jubilee narrowed her eyes and snorted, "I don't know if they're makin' her happy Logan."

Jubilee turned about silently, stalking down the hallway.

* * *

Tears. They'd fallen unbidden. She wiped them away with a fast dirtying tissue, make-up coming off on the white soft leafs. She let a hand sit at her neck, the feeling of nakedness chilling her. God... what a birthday. With a long breath in, she grabbed some make-up, touching up the smudges, cleaning the mess of the eyeliner. She clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes.

Fuck this for a joke. Fuck this.

She grabbed her eyeliner, putting it on a little darker, making her lips a little more blushed, a little more greeny-brown over the tops of her eyelids - just like Jean put on. She took off the understated earrings, sliding in ones that sparkled just a tad more. Her fingers nimbly undid the third button on her top, and with an dissatisfied frown the threw the black top aside, pulling out one that was a little more gauzy from her top drawer. Her black bra could be seen through it. She smiled. She pulled half her scalp up in a chic ponytail that had her hair tumbling around her, and she let the white wisps of hair separate, one curl sliding up into her hair and falling down, and the rest fall around her face. She yanked out a choker from her jewellery box, throwing the scarf by the wayside. And finally - dark gauzy scarf to hang down around her shoulders. As she pulled it on, she slowed, blinking at what she saw in the mirror.

Wow... she...

A thump rattled her bedroom door. Springing up from her chair her heart thumped. Stepping over to the door she opened it, her breath catching.

"Mah-"

He stopped, opened his mouth, closed his mouth, looked either side of him down the corridor as if he were a little stunned. He swallowed and let out a quiet but flustered breath.

"Logan," she said, "I was just puttin' on some make-up."

He nodded slightly. "You ready?"

Then she grinned. Logan's face looked a little pale, then red hot and he pointed down to corridor.

"Let's ah - let's - let's go huh?"

"Thought you'd never get movin', sugar."

He nodded, looking a little thunder-struck, and loped down the hallway.

Marie frowned, trying not to shake. It was a swerve off a well travelled road, being so cool and flirty, but it seemed to effect the man more than she expected. He kinda didn't look at her, focusing on where he was going, his fists clenched a little. She just kept her eyes on his side-burns that ran to his lips, blinking slowly, gently. He glanced at me before opening the door that led to the front lobby of the mansion, a brow cocking.

"You look nice," he said gruffly, "Aimin' to impress tonight?"

Marie lifted her nose and smiled.

"It's a special occasion after all."

At that he just tipped his head toward the door, waiting for me to walk out. And he did. She was walking toward the garage, wondering if he was going to drive me around in that ugly red car he insisted on driving, that was older and gruntier than the rest. She was quite a ways ahead when she heard his throat clear. Upon turning, her heart stopped.

He had a leg bent to the side, his boot kicking the back wheel of Scott's motorcycle. Her throat went dry.

"Y-Yeh - " She gulped, "Yeh want me to get on that thing?"

"It's a motorcycle," he said, eyes glinting, corners of his mouth curled up just slightly, "Not a thing, Marie."

She could only smile slightly, stepping forward with the timidness of youth, taking the helmet on the back seat and offering to her.

"Here," he said, handing her the helmet, and opening the compartment at the back he pulled out a folded up leather duster, "And you should wear this. It's Jean's."

She eyed the dirty worn thing with doubt, the inverted 'x' on the breast shining in the moonlight.

"What for?"

Logan put his hands on her waist and tilted his head. "So that if we crash, your skin won't get all ripped off by the tarmac."

She glared at him, "Crash?!"

He just chuckled, lifting her up like a small child and setting her down on the back seat. She wriggled into the jacket, watching Logan as he took a moment to take in the view of her straddled on the bicycle. After the duster was on, he cocked a brow..

"The damned thing suits you."

She looked down. "The jacket or the bike?"

He flashed a grin and mounted the bike, "Both. Hold on, Marie."

He twisted the throttle, kicking up the stand and with a lurch the bike sped off down the driveway, the doors opening automatically for them.

Marie hung on for dear life. Not that she wanted to say but - she was terrified of speeds. High speeds, to be accurate. She was completely surprised when Logan's voice broke through her helmet through a speaker.

"Marie - not too tight. A guy's gotta breath."

She gulped, loosening her hold, but her arms were shaking wildly.

"Hey - you okay?"

Oh damn - how was she supposed to say something back? As if reading her mind, his voice broke through again.

"It's speech activated, Marie, so you don't have to use your hands. Just talk into the helmet - the mic will work on it's own."

With a tentative tone she muttered, "Okay."

As her trembling voice lilted through the helmet, Logan smiled.

"So you're all right?"

"Uhm - uh - kahnda..."

There was a moment's silence, and Marie dared to look down at the road, at the completely the wrong time. Logan leant aside and the bike titled, arcing towards the road. Her stomach rushing, Marie let out a terrified scream.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST Marie!"

"Ah'm sorry!" she cried.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm scared!" she bleated, her voice holding tears, "I'm - I'm scared of goin' too fast."

"I can slow down," he said, "All ya had to do is say something."

Holding onto his torso she sighed. "I didn't want ye to think I was a girly wimp."

She heard the muffled roar of the motorbike, feeling Logan's chest rise and fall in a sigh that made it onto the mic.

"Marie honey, I want you to feel you can tell me if you're feeling scared or sad or whatever. None of that hidin' your feelin's shit. I'm assuming this is your first time on a bike, I'm not surprised that you're feelin' jittery."

"Okay."

Her voice was still trembling, but the fear had subsided within her. With a pull of courage, she leant her head on his broad back, running her hands up his chest. The voice crackled through again.

"You havin' fun there?"

She smiled, dipping her head away, then snuggling to the man's back, gripping him between her thighs.

"All sorts, sugah."

There was a rough cough.

"Since when did you call people 'sugah'?"

"A while," she said, "You don't like it?"

"Never said I didn't like it."

The voice was guarded, yet warm.

"That's good," she purred, "Cause I ain't stoppin' anytime soon."

There was a grunt, "Fine by me."

They fell into silence again, Marie holding him tightly, but letting her fingers massage at his flesh. His breathing was shallow, erratic. She was doing this... to him? A heat burned inside of her. She'd never really ventured into sexual behaviour with him. They'd settled into a comfortable platonic relationship, one that was warm and soft and quirky. She never thought about taking it further - she always assumed he would do that. Like walk in and say "Hey Marie - I love ya baby" or something equally as awkward. Of course, that was her mind. Right now one hand was slipping down, and the other hand climbing up. She the one slipping down rest on the crease of denim where his hip and the top of his thigh met. With the other she clutched a pectoral.

"Marie... what are you doing?"

She grinned, "Getting comfortable."

"Not that I mind but... I'm trying to drive."

She slid one hand back, but ventured, "You don't mind huh?"

She swore she heard a low chuckle, maybe she didn't. But she definitely heard what followed.

"Nup. I like it even better when I'm not driving."

A grin spread right across her face, and she cuddled him tight.

* * *

Lily Page's Tavern was everything Rogue expected it to be. Dank, carpeted, reeking of bitter beer and spicy men's cologne. And cigarettes. It was like the inside of Logan's head. Logan had given her a tiny wink as he dismounted the bike, and had lifted her up off it and set her down like she weighed a pound. She felt a thrill as his hands clasped the lower half of her ribcage, and giggled as he pulled out a comb from his jacket and ran it through his hair like a sixties greaser. Pulling off her own helmet she swooned on the bike, cooing, "Oh Danny! You're the sweetest rebel Ah ever met! Let's run away from my parents and live on thuh road!"

That scored her a glower.

"Come on, Sandy, we got a drinking session to attend!"

"Oh Danny! You're so dreamy!'

He shot her a glare and pulled her into the Tavern by her arm. Upon entering she spotted Jean, Scott and Ororo at the front bar. They all heard the thump of the clunky old door and turned their heads. Jean smiled, pointing at Rogue.

"Oh hey - that looks familiar..."

Rogue looked down and blushed. "Ah needed it for the bike."

Jean shook her head, "It looks amazing on you."

"Thanks," smiled Rogue.

"Better than it ever did on me. Tell you what - I've been shopping for a new one lately - a nice black shiny one. You wanna keep that one, I mean I know it's a bit old and-"

"Oh Jean!" sighed Rogue, running her hands over the duster, "I'd love to! It's gorgeous! I like that it's old an' stuff! Thank you!"

Jean laughed lightly, "That's okay."

Rogue ran her hands over the sleeves, adoring the way the brown leather rumpled on her arms, the way the bottom hem was snug around her lower ribs, making her waist look tiny as hell. Jean smiled, pleased that the old jacket could inspire so much joy from the young girl.

"That won't be our final present to you," Scott said, taking a sip from his beer, "The real present will be later."

"Cool," she smiled.

The door behind them banged open, and a rush of jewellery and bright yellow swirled into the bar, a bewildered looking Remy staggering in behind her with Bobby close behind flanking a rather stunning looking Kitty Pryde. He shook his head, running a partly gloved hand through straggled auburn locks that hung in his face.

"Mon dieu! Never let de Iceman drive. He be mad!"

"Ha!" Jubilee collapsed at a stool on the bar, adjusting the absurdly short yellow pleather dress she wore, "I could drive him into next week."

"You nearly did," Bobby scowled, "That's why I was driving!"

Jubilee rolled her eyes, then glanced to Rogue. "Dear God, what the hell are you wearing?"

Rogue glanced down and cuddled the jacket closed, "Jean's motorcycle duster..."

She tilted her head, "What have you got on underneath that?"

With a blush, Rogue shrugged off the jacket, half wishing she hadn't been so set on wowing the room before. The black gauzy shirt, thin and transparent, blended with her skin in a grey hue, letting the thick black bust-lifting bras make a wonderful deal of her breasts. The lethal skin peeked through the unbuttoned collar, and the thin scarf settled against the bust suggestively. Along with the pleather pants... the sight of her was felling.

Scott let out low whistle.

"I uh - second ya there, Slim," muttered Logan, leaning over to the man.

Rogue winced, rubbing an arm, "It's not over the top is it?"

"Naw," Logan shook his head, "Ya look fine."

Jean rolled her eyes, holding up a hand and leaning to Rogue conspiratorially.

"You look astounding, sweety, trust me."

Rogue smiled. "Thanks Jean."

"We gotta go shopping some time," said Storm, "You and I could accessorize some damned amazing outfits."

"I'd love to..."

Jubilee frowned at Lily across the bar, twisting a coaster about.

"Can I have a drink of beer or not?"

Scott jumped to his feet and pointed at Jubilee, "No beer!"

"Aw come on, Scott," Logan grunted, "She's only got six months to go till she's old enough."

"Thus, it's illegal."

"Hey, I don't mind if she's that close," Lily said, pulling a slim beer glass from a drying rack, "If she's that game she's welcome to it."

Scott's jaw dropped, "But that's not the point!"

Jubilee jumped up and down, hands wriggling for the beer.

"We got a tab tonight, right?" Rogue said, settling at an empty stool next to Storm. Logan sank down next to Rogue, in between her and Cyclops.

"Yup."

"I'll be havin' a beer too," Remy said, pointing a half-gloved index finger. "Nice and smooth, eh?"

"You have foreign beer," cooed Rogue, "What's that like?"

"Piss is piss," Logan said, "It all tastes like crap."

"Point taken," said Rogue, "What's... Guinness like?"

"Aww, that might be a bit rough for ya first time," Logan said, rubbing his chin.

"You think Ah can't handle it?"

Lily chuckled, shaking her head whilst Logan just smirked.

"Hey, you're welcome to it, just don't blame me for the hang-over."

With a determined jut of her lower lip, Rogue slapped the bar and gave a firm glare at Lily.

"Gimme a Guinness!"

"WOoohooo!!" Bobby thumped the bar and hooted.

"Hey hey hey!" Lily glared at the boy, "You treat that bar kindly, thank you, young man!"

Bobby blushed scarlet, "I'm sorry."

Remy chuckled at him, shaking his head. "Dis boy, is a barbarian, non?"

With a firm glare Bobby pointed at him, "NON!"

Rogue watched keenly as Lily pulled the beer, letting it froth and create a fine creamy head. She could feel Logan's eyes on her, watching her own gleam with intrigue, hands fidgeting for the blackish brew.

"Here ya go, sweetie," Lily smiled, placing a large glass on the bar, "A pint of Guinness."

Logan looked at the glass. "Think you can handle all that?"

Marie straightened, taking hold of the glass, "I have all night, sugah."

She made the mistake of grabbing the beer and taking a good long swig. Logan's brows quirked upwards, a twist in his lips as he smirked at her.

She pulled the glass away, the beer sitting in her mouth, her eyes crammed shut. With an audible gulp she slammed the blackish liquor down her throat, and upon sending it down let out an anguished "GAH!!"

"Kmph- HAHAHAHA!" Bobby burst out into laughter as Logan sniggered quietly, Remy rubbing his jaw knowingly.

"Aah, le petit bein' a little too eager, I think."

"Le petit gonna put your head through a wall if you don't shut up," growled Rogue, wiping her mouth. "I just need to get used to it."

"Maybe Guinness ain't your thing," Logan suggested.

After another wincing sip, Rogue nodded. "Ah think you're right."

"I'll have it," Bobby said, bouncing behind the towering Gambit to be seen.

"Ugh - de English beer, tastes like de dog urine to me."

Bobby sniggered, "Drink it regularly do ya?"

Jubilee hit Gambit, "You mook, Guinness is Irish!"

"All on de same damned Island," he waved a hand.

Bobby wriggled around the barstool Jubilee was perched on and lifted his brows to Rogue.

"Take it," Rogue said, and looked to Storm's glass filled with more blackish liquid. "What're you having?"

Storm looked down, "A Black Russian. It tastes almost chocolatey."

Rogue's eyes lit up and she looked to Lily with a firm determination.

"Ah'll have what she's havin'."

Lily rolled her eyes, pulling out some bottles of spirits, "I've heard that one before, sweety."

Logan smirked and muttered under his breath, "I'll bet she has."

Rogue gasped and nudged Logan sharply, who rubbed his arm and sniggered.

"Careful, Marie, those nudges can do permanent damage now."

Rogue felt fire in her cheeks and she nodded distantly. She often felt the regret rise up and claim her when she was reminded of the powers that, for some reason, decided to stay with her. Super strength, flight, and a slight amount of telepathy, became her as she'd accidentally taken the life of an enemy who'd attacked her, intent on killing her. Logan had on a number of occasions said "Kill or be killed, Kid."

Still didn't make her feel better.

A cool squat glass like Storm's was shoved in front of her on the bar by an older wrinkled and gauchly polished female hand, and looking up she saw Lily's tired but friendly expression.

"Enjoy."

She tried this drink a lot more carefully, but the sweet heady mix danced over her tongue lightly, warming her insides and smacking her at the same time. Woah...

"Oh okay," she nodded, "This one is good, I like this one."

Storm grinned at her, "I'm glad you agree there, Rogue."

Cyclops clapped his hands and rubbed them, standing tall and taking on his leader visage.

"Hey guys - I say we move over to one of the bigger tables - give Lily a chance here to serve someone else apart from liquor-swilling mutants-"

"Whaddaya mean apart from?" Lily growled in a smoke-roughened voice, "Liquor-swillin' mutants is all I get!"

Scott let a smooth smile slide on his face, Lily shaking her head and smirking as a slightly staggering older fellow moved to the bar. Rogue took her cocktail and followed the moving group, enjoying the hot tingly feeling the alcohol was creating within her. Wow... no wonder people did this all the time.

The group moved to a table that was clustered with eight worn, scratched wooden chairs which they settled at, Logan pulling one out for Rogue as she approached.

"Wah thank you, Danny," she cooed, curtseying and sitting at the chair.

"Smart ass," he grunted, "You be a gentlemen and that's the thanks you get."

She could tell he was joking by the jovial glint in his eyes. He turned to Scott.

"You're the waiter tonight," he announced, pointing at him roughly. Scott looked up, model-boy mouth hanging open with a smile.

"Now wait on," he said, "We're not sorting that one out without a fair game of chance."

Remy, taking a sip of a long glass beer, sniggered.

"I say we draw cards eh?"

The thief pulled a pack of cards from his trademark dark-brown trench-coat, grinning handsomely. Kitty smiled, leaning on the table a little, Jubilee next to her just rolling her eyes and tisking.

"Sounds fair to me," said Logan, "Unless the cards are rigged..."

Gambit tipped his head and scoffed, "A man o' my skill don' need rigged cards, Wolverine."

Logan snorted, "Yeah, flicking them around requires a lot of agility and coordination."

Rogue sighed, nudging Logan again, who just smirked to himself.

"Come on Logan," she said in her drawl, "He actually manages to aim them at people - across rooms."

"And he beats your ass in poker," added Kitty, sipping very carefully at a mimosa.

"Which reminds me," Gambit said, "You still owe me a twen-ny from our las' match eh?"

Logan glanced up, daggers in his eyes, and bore his teeth in a growl. The Cajun blanched, smiling weakly.

"Eh - that you can return at your convenience! Let's get dis t'ing done den."

Gambit fanned the cards with an expert twitch of his hand, and held them out to everyone at the table. One by one, the varyingly inebriated X-Men took their cards, Scott taking a little more time than the others whilst trying to focus on Gambit's cards. Logan cocked a brow.

"How much have you had to drink anyway, Scooter?"

"He's been here since five on the dot," Jean said, raising a brow too, "Downing beer the whole time."

"Someone had to come early and organize the tab!" Scott exclaimed.

"It's okay honey - just drink your beer."

Scott shook his head darkly, getting back to beer-swilling, Bobby and Remy smirking and shaking their heads for very different reasons. Gambit nudged his comrade in ice and cocked a brow.

"So, what you get, mon ami?"

Bobby winced, "Nine of hearts."

Remy looked to Logan.

"Jack of diamonds."

"Jack of diaaamooonds," Scott started singing in a thick country twang, "Jack of diamooondsss, diaamonds is ah hawd hawd faaaahnd!"

Jean laughed, covering her lover's face up and wincing, "This is why he's team leader and not team singer!"

Rogue smirked. "Well I've got a queen of spades."

Kitty threw the card on the table with disgust, "Five of clubs."

Jubilee grinned, "Aces high? Cause I got me the hearts!" She brandished her ace of hearts with great glee.

"You lucky aces high, Petit. 'Ow bout you, Jeannie?"

Jean smiled, "Seven of clubs."

"And de Goddess?"

Storm looked up and flashed the card, "Ten of diamonds."

Remy winked at the platinum beauty before moving on, "And de Fearless Leader?"

Scott turned his card around with a dark scowl. It was a two of clubs.

Gambit burst into a snigger, pulling his card around, "An' I thought I drew a bad hand. Four o' diamon's - but dat still beats you, friend. I'd like another one o' dese t'ank you!" He lifted his slim glass of beer and grinned brightly.

Scott got up, taking his beer in his hand as he slunk to the bar, mumbling. "Smart ass Cajun..."

Logan twisted his head after him, confusion on his face, "When the hell did he start turnin' into me?"

"Since it became so fashionable," Rogue said, leaning to him on a lax arm. "I want more a' this, this is nice." She swigged at her Black Russian, her face flitting with the slam of alcohol that went with the smooth sweet taste. She stretched her neck, kneeling her chair and leaning on Wolverine's shoulder that was at her hip. "Yo SCOOTER! Get me another black russian, will yuh SUGAH?"

Scott had looked mildly annoyed till the 'sugah' hit him, and he looked to melt a bit.

"Okay!"

Rogue slipped back down onto her bottom, resting her head on Logan's shoulder and smiling. Logan tried very very hard not to smile stupidly, especially not in front of their team mates. The intoxicated girl smiled sweetly.

Oh damn.

He smiled. Not just any smile, of course. The slow lazy "Oh shucks, Sandy you're purty" smile that had Jubilee grinning, leaning on her hand and letting out a ear piercing "Ooooooooooh!"

Rogue narrowed her eyes at her best friend as Logan blushed, scowled, and buried his face into his beer.

She sighed, seeing Logan retreat into himself again. Great, now it was going to take more hard work getting him to loosen up a bit. Or more beers. She got up again and looked to Scott.

"Yo Cyke! Another beer for our dear comrade here!" She pointed to Logan then frowned, "Make it two!"

Jubilee sniggered now, grinning at Kitty who just looked confused. Logan dragged a dark look to them, then to Marie as she sat down again.

"You tryin' to get me under the table Marie?"

She smirked and shrugged, "Any way I can."

Remy's jaw dropped a little and he coughed, sliding his cards back into his pockets after showing off a few tricks to Kitty. "Dis one don't beat around de bush."

Rogue straightened proudly, finishing off her first black russian. It was soon replaced with a second, thanks to a wobbly Cyclops.

"Your cocktail, Belle."

"Wah, thank you, Mr. Summers, it's most kahnd of you."

Jean blinked at Scott, a smirk of amusement sliding on her face as a gape of shock fell off. "Where the hell did Mr. Flirt come from?"

"Don't know, but I like it," said Storm into her cocktail.

And strangely enough, after the next few minutes of conversation, Remy LeBeau slowly sauntered to her side, wedged between her and Jubilee, flashing cards about and grinning handsomely. Jubilee just scowled at him, trying in vain to ignore him. When Rogue found herself NOT staring at Logan, she found the scene rather amusing.

Of course, Scott was interested very much in his beer and Jean with his increasingly inebriated state. Rogue would never have picked Scott for a piss-tank.

Herself, Marie was feeling on the more wobbly side of tiddly. She hadn't anticipated the strength of the Black Russian. It was called russian she assumed, cause russians were big, hairy, scary, strong and could keep warm in sub-arctic climates. Kinda like the drink. Oh it was doing quite a job.

* * *

After a while of watching people chat, and leaning on Logan's arm, she got up, with much ceremony, pulling change from her pocket.

"Ah, am going to play with the skillytesters and the juke-boxy thing and the - " She stopped, eyes widening at the roped off thing looming in the corner, "The MECHANICAL BULL!!"

Lily, at the bar, seemed to look up at the exclamation.

"You sure you wanna use that missy?"

Rogue grinned, yanking up Logan by the scruff off the neck (the poor man flailing like a ten pound weakling at Rogue's forgotten super-strength) and nodded frantically.

"Ah bet ah could do it! Mah friend had a horse in Mississippi!"

Lily nodded dryly and turned on the spotlights in the corner of the room, "You're welcome to it - just wheel it out to the dance floor some - maybe you can get your boys to help you."

Rogue stuck her nose in the air and marched into the corner, dragging Logan behind her.

"I can do it MAHSELF!"

Lily shrugged, "Fine - you pay for your own medical bills."

Rogue reached the huge thing, and grabbing the base she pulled it out a bit, making sure it was plugged in. Turning around to Logan she noticed that her friends had joined her, toting drinks and weary but fascinated smiles. Scott just grinned.

"I dare ya Logan!"

Logan scowled. It was all getting a little silly. The girl was drunk out of her mind and she wasn't going to last a minute on that thing. And now they want him on it? He did cage fights, not mechanical whoopsie!

"Forget it," he grumbled.

Rogue spun about, frowning.

"What - ya-a big chicken 'r summin?"

Logan cocked a brow, "Do I look like a big chicken?"

Rogue's face was stony still, till a slow "Bwwwwaaak." came out. Bobby sniggered, somewhere behind Logan and the taller hairy man turned and glowered at the young man.

"Wanna do that to my face?"

"AWw, big man, pickin' on the popsicle," cooed Rogue, "Ah'd be a sight more impressed seein' those thighs wrapped around this pretty machine here."

Cyclops choked on his Bud-Lite.

"BEER!" he shrieked suddenly, "Through the NOSE!"

Jean hissed, "Owww! Don't sniff honey... breath out!"

"Oh my God," Jubilee stepped back, "Leader snot..."

Jean glared at the girl, "Medical emergency, Jubilee!"

Gambit sniggered. "Yeah, dat make a good addition to de paper. Teacher and fabled X-Men leader drown on beer in drunken bar room tussle. Good for de image, non?"

Logan was ignoring all this. His eyes were locked on that of the impudent little woman draped over the mechanical bull indecently - in that all-too-revealing slip of a shirt. She just met his gaze with a confident curl of the lip, slight tick of the brow.

"Like I said," Logan tipped his head at Rogue with a patronizing smile, "Forget it."

He knew what she wanted. With the recent trend of her behaviour and the downright lecherous look on her face, oh Lord All Mighty - he knew what she wanted. She wanted him. On that mechanical bull, bucking, grinding, stretching and twisting and doing everything in his ever-lovin' power not to fall off. And she wanted to watch - with that damned leer.

Of course the Lord All Mighty was a cruel bastard and made women incredibly smart. Especially this one.

She stood up, breathing in deep and heaving her breasts up, narrowing her soft brown eyes at the men in the group.

"Ah bet Cyclops would... or Gambit..."

Gambit and Cyclops exchanged terrified glances.

"Oh - I dunno about that Rogue um- " Scott jumped, "My glasses might fall off - ya know!"

Rogue nodded slowly then looked to Remy. He smiled smoothly, reaaaal smoothly. He cocked a brow, pursed his lips, his eyes travelling over the lilts and swells of Rogue's body.

Logan felt a growl growing deep within him, his fists clenching, knuckles itching, and he felt the corner of his mouth tensing to a grimace.

"I might," Remy said, "For a good reason."

Before his brain could even kick in, Logan burst forward, roughly pushing Remy aside and leaping up onto the mechanical horse.

"I'm not being upstaged by a Ragin' Cajun fag," he growled, settling in the seat. Rogue's jaw dropped and she grinned brightly, jumping up and down and jiggling excitedly.

"I'm not gay," Remy frowned.

"That remains to be seen," smirked Jubilee.

There was a slight hum as Rogue turned the machine on, and slammed in a few quarters. The hydraulics lifted the saddle up, and with a lurch it changed position. That was all the warning Logan got before it reared into action, rolling backwards and forwards, lurching this way and that. He held onto the handle at the saddle for dear life, his eyes wide as saucers as the mechanical beast bucked underneath him. It was going fairly slow, he could handle this. Wasn't this supposed to be a challenge?

He glanced over to Rogue, her hands on the controls her eyes - oh God. She was staring at his - his -

She glanced up, and winking, she turned the controls a little.

Oh shit - it was getting faster. He rolled his hips, letting his body writhe and curl, keeping his centre of balance, one arm up in the air and keeping him on.

"Come on Rogue!" hooted Bobby, "Faster!"

Rogue glanced sideways, shaking her head. Figures - she was enjoying the view.

"Ah think shirtless mechanical bull-riding should be a national sport," announced the Birthday Girl, grinning at Storm who smirked back at her. Jean just nodded.

"Oh yeah..."

He glared at the women. Three, gorgeous beautiful women - all Goddesses - perving on him. Openly, with the drool and the dropped jaw and hungry gazes, perving on him. The two younger girls just stared in shock. It didn't matter. Logan's mind phased out, his eyes on the three women next to Cyclops, one (the especially evil little temptress) fiddling with the controls. Damn, that top looked so fine...

"WwAAAH!"

Logan felt the shriek lift from him as the bull's speed was suddenly boosted, the saddle underneath him rolling and bashing his behind and nethers rather than being a rideable mass. It twisted, bucked, smashed him in the ass and he felt himself tumble off, crashing onto the gym mattressing mounted around the machine. He lay there, dazed, his backside aching so much he felt tears rise in his eyes.

"Sweet Jesus," he moaned, staring at the smoke-stained ceiling of the tavern, the faces of his comrades circling about him, "My ass..."

Rogue pouted, looking genuinely concerned.

"Oh no," she sighed, "Want me to make it better?"

Half the group choked, including Logan, who waved a hand and shook his head.

"I'm not THAT badly off!"

She helped him up nonetheless, her little hands supporting him with phenomenal strength as he pulled himself up to his feet. He sighed.

"I'm lucky I heal fast. I'd be walkin' like him all week," He cocked his head towards Gambit who just winced back with tense lips and nodded sardonically.

"Well Sugah, I better show you how it's done, hmmm?"

Logan coughed, spluttered, then smirked very very widely.

"You saw the short work it made uh me, Marie. Doesn't matter how strong y'are, that thing'll ping you straight out the window."

Rogue looked him up and down, shrugging and floating up gracefully to sit in the saddle of the machine.

"O' course, I won't be checkin' out my friend's racks," she said, settling down into the seat, "Might help for my concentration."

Storm and Jean looked down at Logan still on the ground, and rubbing the underside of this thigh he gritted his teeth at them as menacingly as he could.

They just smirked.

Cyclops moved to the controls of the machine, putting his face really close and probably squinting.

"Uhhh... what setting Rogue?"

Kitty hung onto Bobby precariously, brandishing a 'Sex on the Beach' cocktail, letting loose a giggle.

"The Rockies!"

Bobby glared at her. "Wuh?"

"Setting... ya know - the scene - setting...?"

Cyclops let an impressed grin slide onto his face, and Bobby just gave an involuntary spasm of disgust.

"That was a total teacher joke, dude!"

Kitty pouted. Rogue shook her head at her comrades and leant to Cyclops slightly.

"In'nermediate," she said in an alcohol enhanced southern lilt.

"Kay..."

The mechanical steed lifted with a jolt, and with another it began a rigourous rolling motion, which Rogue matched with killer precision, her hips rolling along with it, looking incredibly lithe and delectable in the black pleather pants she was wearing.

Logan felt like he was going to burst an artery, or something else he held vital to his existence. Damn - he had to wear denim. He shifted uncomfortably, watching the girl grind on the machine, a bright smile on her face as she defeated it's every move, thighs almost crushing the mechanical body beneath her. He heard a deep accented voice mumble to the group.

"I pay to be dat t'ing uh?"

Logan turned his head slowly, and glared at Remy.

"Gumbo - don't you forget that's a lady!"

Jubilee snorted, "Yeah, really lookin' like one too."

Logan's eyes kept being pulled to the little hips of his young companion, and again and again he pulled his eyes away and cursed himself. No matter how old she was - she was his little Marie-

He swore at himself. His. Ha. He buried his hands in his pockets, and with a dull ache he felt something warm and metallic down there. He pulled them out slowly, running his fingers over it. The metal where his name was - it looked to be polished. Perhaps... perhaps she'd run her fingers over it like he did now? It felt wrong all of a sudden, having them in his hands.

"Why you lookin' so glum, chum?"

Logan looked down next to him, where the lavishly painted face of Jubilee looked up at him with blatant wide-eyed innocence. He shoved the chain in his pants, looking back to Rogue darkly.

"I'm not your chum," he said.

He nearly fell over when he felt a hand dig into his pants. He stepped back, glaring at the youth in front of him.

"Oh calm down," the girl said, dangling the chain in front of him, "Nothin' down there I'm interested in. Put it on you moron. You'll feel better."

"You sound pretty sure of that," he growled.

"I'm sure you missed it," she persisted, hanging it around his neck.

Logan let his eyes fall shut, feeling the warm metal slip around his neck. Jubilee centred it, tilting her head and smiling.

"There we go."

He just glared at her, and fingered the chain with a dark scowl. He was soon distracted by a ear-piercing hoot that flew from the lungs of Rogue, the girl's body flipping like a fish out of water as she managed the bucks of the machine under her.

"Faster!" she yelled.

Cyclops just looked at her with complete refusal, worry etched deeply in his features.

"FASTER!" she yelled again, glaring at him.

The obviously fearless leader shook his head. His hands were planted either side of the controls, his head shaking thoroughly. Jean stepped forward, frowning, her hand hovering above the controls as she spoke in her lover's ear.

Rogue squealed as the mechanical bull bucked faster, and Cyclops spun about and glared at Jean, complete with look of utter betrayal.

Logan couldn't - think. Nope, not thinking, not moving. Jaw hangin and gazing at Rogue doing her... thing. And oh sweet Lord above... she did it so WELL. She cheered herself on with another ear peircing hoot, the bucking machine not defeating her. She rolled her hand, looking to Jean who now took over the controls, and Jean shook her head.

"This is as fast as it goes, Rogue."

Rogue sighed with great disappointment, and waved a hand.

"Get it off then!"

"At this rate that won't be a problem," growled Logan darkly to himself.

"I think we should give the Birthday Girl her presents before she passes out," Jean said, turning away from the mechanical bull as Rogue pushed it back into it's corner.

The group moseyed it's way back to the large table. It was the first time Rogue noticed the large obvious 'x' scratched into the surface next to the cocktail menu... Cocktail menu! As she sat down and grabbed one, she looked to Scott.

"Approve of vandalism do ya Slim?"

Scott looked up from his beer, his jaw hanging. "Wuh?"

Rogue looked to the 'x' on the table.

"Oh..."

"Who do you think did it?" Jean smirked.

"People kept stealin' our table, man!"

Bobby nodded, "Yup - it's the X-Table now."

Logan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "I deepened it."

Rogue smirked, shoving the cocktail menu back in the stand in the middle of the table.

"I bet you did."

Jubilee coughed, hiding her face behind her hand.

"Okay," Jean smiled, pulling up a stuffed-full bag from behind her chair. She pulled a key from around her neck and unlocked the bag, zipping it open. "All your presents are here. Shall we start?"

Rogue nodded gleefully, rubbing her gloved hands together.

Jean pulled out a box, sliding it in front of Rogue. "This one's from Ororo."

Rogue felt a wriggling happiness spirit through her, and carefully, after taking off the paper, she pulled back the lid.

"Oh dammit, 'Ro," gasped Rogue, dipping her hands inside the box and pulling out a soft black velour scarf, with matching gloves and a set of jewellery, etched with the striking 'x' of the X-Men. She sighed, shaking her head and looking at a set of 'x' earrings. "These are so beautiful!"

"Well, since you're finishing college this year, I figure it's time you start living like an X-Men, mmm?"

Rogue grinned, "Absolutely!"

Storm was close to Rogue - she knew she wouldn't leave like other students to live lives more normal - not with her 'gift'.

"Thank you, 'Ro," Rogue sighed, hugging the platinum-haired goddess tightly.

"Ours now!" barked Jubilee drunkenly. "Open OURS!"

"X-Grrrrls," droned Kitty around her newly acquired mimosa, "It's from thuh X-Grrls."

Bobby made a stirling effort to growl, pointing at the girls with his bottle of IceHouse.

"I'm not a girl!! And I helped pay for it too!"

Jean dug around inside the bag, pulling out a hard rectangular looking present. She slid it across the table to Rogue, who eyed the card and pulled at it.

"Ooh..." Sliding out the card, it had a ... a blue Booby? A Booby bird, with blue wide webbed feet and a long dark blue beak, and a funny body. She opened the letter, "Happy Birthday, from one strange bird to another." She laughed, "That's so sweet. From Jubes."

"That's Jubes' card," Bobby said, "Kitty and my card is in there too."

"Aaah," Rogue nodded, pulling out the other card that was smaller. She burst into a fit of giggles upon seeing it. It was blatantly a child's card. Big-headed dot-eyed cartoons of animals surrounded a similarly styled little girl, her hair in pony-tails as she fed them with bread, a big shiny sun behind her. A white picket fence behind her anchored the drawing, and in bright pink metallic swashy writing was "You're a Big Girl Now!"

She opened the card, and inside was a saccharine poem, which she read out with much glee. "You've come this far, you're our sweet girl. You've grown all strong in this wide world. With all our love we're proud to say, All good wishes on your big day. Happy Birthday!"

Kitty and Bobby sniggered, nudging each other whilst spilling their drinks.

Scott sniffled, letting a hand run under his glasses. "That's so sweet!"

Bobby and Kitty glanced to each other and nearly fell over, laughing so hard they began wheezing. Jean leant to Scott and patted his cheek.

"It's okay sweety. Just drink your beer."

He nodded and swigged at his Bud-Lite.

"Oh WOW!!"

They both looked up to see Rogue's look of surprise and elation.

"LOOK!" She cried, turning around the unwrapped book in her hands and flashing it to the group.

The cover read '101 Cocktails and Drinking Games for Adult Fun.'

Jean cocked a brow, "That sounds ominous."

"Oh we gotta do these!" gasped Rogue, bouncing up and down, "Look! Hard On - I'd like that one..."

There was a sudden choking noise from Logan's direction. He wheezed, coughing hard, Kitty slapping his back suddenly.

"You okay Logan?"

He nodded, eyes growing red, "Yeah - just - beer went down the wrong way."

Rogue looked up to Storm, "You think Lily makes a Head Job shot?"

"Oh God..."

The platinum bolted beauty ignored the choking Logan next to her as her eyes were set firmly on Storm.

"I'm sure she does," Storm smiled.

Jean smiled and patted Rogue's arm, "You can find out later, sweety. You got three presents to go."

Rogue frowned, something falling in her chest. "Three?"

Jean stared long at Logan and nodded. "Mmhmm."

Rogue looked to Logan as he peered up from his beer with red-rimmed eyes, looking half-drowned. The man just winked at Jean. That set something burning within Rogue... perhaps it was silly - Jean was Scott's girl but - damn that Logan! Such a damned slut, flirting all the damned time. Last thing she'd ever expect was Jean reciprocating anything so inappropriate. She glanced up to Remy, sitting across the table. He just sat back, beer propped on his chest, a smooth smile on his face, staring right at - Storm.

Great. He was a slut too.

She sighed, feeling a little bedraggled, barely noticing the next present slid under her nose. She blinked.

"Next one, Rogue. From me and Scott."

Jean slid a huge box over to Rogue, wrapped in gold wrapping. On the top of the box was a small card, white with 'Twenty-One Now' written on it with golden swirling writing. She smiled, opening it.

"To Rogue, Our new Sister in crime, Love always, Scott & Jean."

Sister in Crime? Wuh? Too excited by now to care about the wrapping or the meaning of the card, Rogue ripped at the present, revealing the white cardboard box which was promptly yanked open.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph!"

Rogue gasped, staring wide-eyed at the glossy black round thing glinting back up at her from the box. She pulled it up, and it soon proved to be a little tilted and streamlined, with a visor at the front... woah... Silver 'X's contained in tell-tale ripple-edged circles covered the sides and backs of the helmet with seamless beauty, the marks underneath the gloss. In the X's was the name 'Rogue'. Underneath, in the box, soft black leather gloves sat. Placing down the hi-tech looking helmet she pulled them out, peering at them with wonder. At the very bottom of the box sat a set of keys. Holding them up she looked at a wide grinning Scott.

"What's these for?'

The Fearlessly Pissed leader practically giggled, "What does it look like?"

"Uh... a motorbike but I - I don't have one."

Jean smirked at Scott and grinned, "You do now."

Her jaw dropped. "Buh- buh - wha- Why?! Why me? Oh God this is too much!"

Rogue blushed wildly, her hands shaking like mad.

"What? No way! Nothing is too much for my Mechanics Ace!"

Rogue sighed, "I aced the class - I never BEEN on one."

"Yes you have," Logan grunted, "Just tonight."

"Exactly!" she gasped, "I never ridden one before!"

"I'll teach ya," Scott said, pointing around his beer, "I can see the need for speed in your blood, Rogue, don't deny it."

Bobby looked to Kitty with a look of uncertainty, "How can a leader of something so cool be such a dweeb?"

Kitty hit him and shook her head, wiping at tears, "This is a sweet moment!"

Rogue fingered the bike-gloves, still shaking and desperately clinging for something to distract her, and looking at the gift in her hands she noticed the little metal 'x's on the cuffs. She sighed.

"Wow guys this is - this is so damned cool."

She didn't think she'd mention her terror of high speeds. Not yet.

"Ya still got a couple more to go!" Scott said a little louder than necessary, pulling out another present from the bag in Jean's lap and making her laugh. She shook her head.

The card was empty on the front bar 'Happy Birthday'. Inside words were written in elegant and flawless hand.

"Marie,

Your determination and courage is an inspiration to me always, and it makes this old soul feel young again, knowing I am helping a special girl like you. It is with great pride that I see you blossom into womanhood, and I am deeply honoured that you have chosen to join me in my cause to help humanity.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, and wish you the happiest of birthdays.

Your friend, Xavier."

Rogue felt tears sting and blur her eyes and looking up to Kitty and Jubes. With a wobbling bottom lip she pulled the card off the wrapping and handed it to them.

"Read that..." she sniffled.

Jubes took it as the table grew silent, her eyes slowly widening with Kitty's as they read the message.

"Wow..." croaked Kitty, "That's so beautiful!"

"The Professor wanted to give it to you himself, but this place doesn't have wheel-chair access."

Rogue sniffled, wiping her eyes indignantly, "Well, we'll have to do something about that won't we?"

Jean grinned, "Yeah, I guess so."

Scott grinned along with her, "Well don't sitting there bawling all over it - open it!"

Opening the plain white box, there lay in soft tissue paper, six tapes with Xavier's swashy handwriting on them. There was a once-folded piece of paper on top of them, and upon opening it she saw another message from him.

"Dearest Rogue,

Every day is another step closer to your dream. Hopefully these tapes, recorded techniques that you and I have developed together and a few I've worked on without you, will help you in case you wish to work privately.

Xavier."

"Oh wow," she sighed, closing the box and clutching it to her chest, eyes spilling over with tears, "I'm giving him the biggest smooch when Ah get home."

Jean grinned and pulled out a small bag, "Last one. It's from Remy."

Rogue glanced up to Remy and grew pale as she felt her heart seizing. She looked to Logan and... his chair, wooden and scuffed, was empty. She looked to the small velvet pouch that had been handed to her, and she took it with a strained smile, biting back tears.

"Remy what did you do?" she mumbled, opening the pouch.

Flashing silver slipped out into her gloved hand, and through the soft metal chain a tiny charm sat buried. She dug it out, dangling up in the air.

A hand, out flat, palm exposed, made of seeming silver, dangled from the chain, a single green stone set into the middle of the palm. She gasped softly, frowning at it with incomprehension.

"Jesus Remy, it's beautiful..."

Jubilee leant over to Rogue, jaw slack at the charm. "Oh wow..."

"It's a charm - to help you wit' your gift, an' bring you luck."

Rogue smiled, letting a tear slip freely. Damn it. It was beautiful.

"God, I don't - I don't know what to say - to this to any of you... Shit I never felt so loved in mah lahfe!"

She sniffled, feeling arms wrap around her, gentle smiles being flashed at her.

"Usually you say thank you," said Jean with a grin.

"Duh," Rogue gave a hushed giggle, "Thanks guys."

Arms squeezed her as she piled her presents together, conversation bubbling up again between the team-mates she was amongst. No matter how much they loved her, no matter how touching their gifts, her heart stung in a place that they could never heal. She felt it slice through her, the wink, the absence. How could he leave like that?

How could he just ignore what had happened today? Wasn't he happy she'd made it? Didn't he CARE?!

There was a scrape of chair against floor, and looking up she saw - Logan - sitting down, pulling out a cigar from his jacket. He hadn't left her?

"Where'd you go?" she blurted out.

Logan looked up at her, cocking a brow. "To the john."

Perhaps it was the alcohol, maybe it was the hormones in the air, but for some reason her brain chose that moment to have a vivid mental picture of Logan whipping out his pistol. She blushed, piling her things together, Jean helping her put them in the bag.

She was still angry though. She felt - well - she felt like nothing. Obviously Logan regarded her as that, he couldn't even be bothered getting her a present. Anger and dejection welled inside her, fuelling her low ebb, and of all human frailties, depression was one of the most dangerous to mix with the effects of copious amounts of alcohol.

* * *

Rogue soon found out - yes, Lily made Head Job shots. Logan looked on in horror as she stuck her tongue through the cream, licked it away, then tipped her head back, the long shot glass wedged obscenely between her lips. Jubilee was now camped at the bar, flicking through the book and chatting with a mildly interested Lily Page, mixing up drinks, sending them down the line of X-Men at the bar and waiting for their reactions. Jubilee slammed open a page and grinned.

"Body shots!" she announced.

Rogue frowned, "What's that?"

"Oh I love those," Storm cooed, "Oh yes we must do those!"

"Oh I be first," grinned Gambit, eying Rogue, "You be in on it eh?"

Rogue sighed, "What IS it?"

"She can't do it," Kitty frowned, "You need to be able to touch her skin."

Logan was tight-lipped, at the end of the bar, cigar wedged in the corner of his mouth and a hand wrapped around a pint of beer. He scowled.

Jubilee looked to the book, "Whatcha do is you lick a bit of skin - or in ROGUE's case," she looked at Kitty pointedly, "We can just wet a patch of her shirt... then sprinkle salt on it. She puts a wedge of lemon in her mouth, and a shot of tequila in her cleavage and voila!" She grinned naughtily, "A tequila shot with a DIFference!"

Scott looked up, shaking his head, "Come on guz - you slip an' someone cooh be hurt."

"We'll be careful," Gambit said smoothly, rubbing his hands together, "I's too much fun for Rogue to miss out on."

"Right."

The grunt came from the end of the bar as Logan downed his beer determinately.

"If anyone's gonna be half killin' themselves sucking on Rogue it's gonna be me."

With a narrow of her eyes, Rogue seethed. He neglected her, practically ignored her and let her grope him on his bike like it's just a bit of fun and now he wants to lick SALT off her?! Why the...

He butted out his cigar, shoving it in his pocket and loping over to her. Storm, Jean, Scott and Bobby all gaped. Jubilee grinned, pulling over the ingredients from Lily.

"Okay," she grinned, "Rogue-"

"No!" Rogue said, "I'm not doin' it."

"Aww, come on, cheri," Gambit said, "I's your party, it'll be fun."

"I'm not some charity case for Logan," she growled, stomping her foot.

Logan's eyes flashed, "Listen Kid, you can't do this with anyone else, it's too risky-"

"For fucks sake, Logan!" she snapped, "Did you MISS something, like a couple o' YEARS?! I'm a woman dammit, I'll do what I like and I'm not havin' you lick salt off me cause YOU think it's too dangerous! Ah KNOW it is! Cyke is raght and - I'm not doing it."

She sprung forward from the bar, set on storming away but she lurched sideways, nearly toppling over, as a strong hand grabbed her arm.

"It's not charity," he said, voice low, rough... damn near tender, "I want to do it."

Rogue closed her eyes, feeling her heart stop. Son of a bitch. She turned her head, slowly, narrowing her eyes at him coldly. As she met his gaze she stepped up to him, her face screwed up in contempt. It barely moved as she uttered.

"What's the magic word?"

He took a sharp breath in, meeting her challenging glare. "Please."

The group practically collectively sighed with relief as she stood down from her tip-toes, pulling a stool over and perching on it in front of him.

"That's better," she said.

Logan didn't sigh. He just gazed at her, and took her hand. He lifted the underside of her fore-arm to his lips, and with measured dedication, pressed them to her shrouded skin, kissing softly and taking his time to open his mouth, let the wetness of his tongue seep through as it caressed her. She visibly grew lax, eyes glazing over and shutting, head tilting back in delirium.

God, those lips were warm, and slippery... and it was HIM pressing his lips onto her so - damn - well. He was clever, very clever. And all too soon that wet warmth was gone. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him. He was turned to the bar, taking some rough salt from a saucer and with an intent gaze he sprinkled it onto her now wet gauzy sleeve. Taking a slice of lemon, he turned to her. She watched him take a long moment, gazing at her lips, the honey-brown eyes growing soft. He gave a barely audible grunt and gestured to his mouth.

"Open."

She nodded, her breath shaking with her, and felt a heady rush as the rind met her lips. She bit down onto it, keeping it in place.

He turned back to the bar, and this time, he came back with the long shot glass. His eyes now slipped to her low cut shirt, and carefully he undid an extra button. She could hear his breath quicken as he pushed the glass in between artificially uplifted breasts, their milky softness wedging it securely.

And their eyes met, one more time, his brow cocking so slightly.

She nodded.

Lifting her arm again, he ran his mouth along the patch of salt. His eyes didn't flutter as he dipped his head to her breasts, deftly catching the glass between his lips and tipping it back. He let it drop to the floor as he dropped to her face, teeth biting into the lemon, juice bursting into his mouth. And he stayed there, took a long moment suckling carefully on the edge of the lemon.

Rogue frowned, her brows tilting up. The thing was fucking sour. Logan just stayed there, though, and stared at her, taking in all the lemon's juices. God, she could feel the warmth from his lips, the breath from his nose tickled her face like feathery caresses. She could also feel herself shuddering all over... damn it all she loved this man.

He finally pulled away, stretching his neck, popping it, and clearing his throat.

"There you go."

Rogue gulped. Her sleeve was wet with Logan saliva and salt, a sucked on lemon slice hanging from her mouth and her shirt half undone, cleavage exposed to the world. She'd never felt so fucking amazing in all her life.

She opened her mouth, letting the lemon rind drop the the floor.

"Thank you."

Jubilee let out a thoroughly amazed gasp.

"Fuck... that was like - the most EROTIC body shot I've ever seen."

"I be votin' wit' ya on dat one," Gambit said, grabbing a lemon rind from the bar and turning to Storm, "Shall we?"

Storm blinked, blushed, then shrugged. "Sure."

Jean glanced to Scott and grinned, "Wanna give it a go?"

Scott shrugged, "Sure why not."

Bobby grabbed Kitty and a glass of vodka. Her jaw dropped at the young man.

"Bobby you gotta be kiddin' me!"

He pouted, eyes growing sad, "Please?"

Kitty sighed, looking to the ceiling, "I thank God my mother would never be around to see this," she muttered, pulling her shirt undone, "Come on then."

Jubilee looked around, noticing the sudden lack of male numbers, and grumbled. "Oh great!"

"Dmm wmmm pp!"

Remy threw his head back from Storm's cleavage, and after a saucy bite at her mouth, turned and pointed to her with a gasping breath, "I be with you in a moment, petit!"

Shrugging, Jubilee grinned, "Okay!"

He mumbled to Storm and planted a steamy kiss on her surprised lips, grinning at her then joining Jubilee.

* * *

Had they stayed with Body Shots, perhaps it would have been okay. But as Remy was known to mutter, Non. They sat about the newly christened "X-Table", a large jug of 'Illusion' mix in the jug, now playing a simple game of word association. The first person to mutter a sexual organ had to take a good long chug at their cocktail, and this was a challenge since it was long into the night and they weren't at their most coherent. Jubilee wavered, frowning deeply.

"Road."

Kitty blinked slowly, "Car."

"Wheel," said Bobby.

"Steer," Gambit said.

Storm looked at Gambit and grinned, "Bull."

Cyclops watched them for a minute, then said. "Hoof."

Jean said, "Horse."

Logan grunted. "Donkey."

Rogue smirked, "Ass."

Jubilee's jaw dropped, "Hey!"

"I's not a seshual organ," Rogue said, pointing a gloved finger, "Is'n animal."

"Tha's right," nodded Logan.

"I think we'll let that one pass," Jean said, wiggling a little, Scott giggling next to her. Rogue figured their legs were busy. Interesting idea.

"Okay okay," Jubilee sighed, "Mule."

Kitty whimpered, clutched her head in her hand and sighed, "Uhhh - camel!"

"Cigarette," Bobby said.

"Cigar," Gambit said smoothly.

Storm leant her head in her hand demurely, "Mouth."

"Uhh... oh," Scott grinned, "Tongue."

Jean coughed, and blushed, "Throat."

Logan shifted in his chair, "Stomach."

Rogue giggled, "Ass."

Jubilee glared, "Rogue!"

Logan sniggered, "That's a fair association."

He received a fair thwap to the arm that he couldn't help but rub gingerly, "Jesus, Marie, don't break any bones!"

She scowled at him and looked to Jubilee. "It's a body part - it's not a sexual organ."

"Unless you're gay," said Bobby.

"That's a point," Jean nodded.

"I's function is for digestion," Rogue said.

"Which you can derive sexual pleasure from," Jean said. Then she stopped, frowned, then giggled, "I mean - from the organ, not the process. Though some people..." She sniggered, taking a sip of her drink.

"Alright - take a swig Rogue," Jubilee said, opening the book, "We're playing another game now."

Rogue sighed and took a sip, leaning back in her chair. She felt a brushing at her thigh, and frowned. She glanced up to Logan.

"Sorry."

He shrugged, "S'Okay."

"Right," Jubilee pressed the book flat, "The game is - Never Have I Ever. The object is to say something that you've never done. If someone else at the table has done it - they gotta sip."

Scott shifted up in his chair, "Soun's pretty harmless."

"Okay," Jubilee rubbed her hands and grinned, "Never have I ever..."

All eyes were on her.

"Fucked up a tree."

Suddenly, all eyes were shifting, everyone glancing to each other, uncomfortable coughs and pursing of lips filling the silence. Then, there was movement. Logan took a sip of his punch. He cleared his throat, shrugging, wanting to crawl out of the range of Rogue's appalled glare.

"I'd just cleaned my van."

"Bobby's turn," said Jubes.

"Never have I ever spewed after a carnival ride."

Jean, Rogue and again Logan took a sip. Rogue gazed at him long as he sipped.

"I'm not too fond of carnival rides," he mumbled.

"Me neither," she said softly.

Gambit cleared his throat, leaning to Storm slightly. "Never 'ave I ever walked in public in de nude."

Gazing at him directly, Storm took a sip. She glanced around the table, looking suddenly innocent.

"I lived in Africa for most of my life!"

Scott chuckled, and rubbed his hands. "Okaaaay. Uhhh... Never have I ever... done the Little Death."

Logan took a long draw of his punch.

Jubilee frowned, confused, "Whaddya mean 'Little Death'?"

Jean blushed, "It's a sexual position, Jubilee."

"I be takin' that as a suggessun, mon ami," Gambit said, nodding at her and taking a sip of his drink.

Jean rolled her eyes, then looked to her drink, "Never have I ever had sex with four people in one night."

There was a cough, and a shift, and an all too familiar grunt. Rogue glared, disbelief splashing her face as Logan took yet another swig of his drink. Shrinking under the sharp glare he shrugged.

"I was drugged."

"That's what they all say," sniggered Jubes.

"Your turn, Rogue," Jean said, smiling.

Rogue couldn't smile. She could say so many things that she'd never done, that she'd never do. Never ever kiss again, never ever let her tongue run over a man's nipple. Never feel his lips press onto her ear. Never... feel his face nuzzle at her breasts... sideburns drifting past her stomach....

"Earth to ROGUE!"

She blinked. Oh shit. She looked to her drink and frowned, a long sigh leaving her.

"Never have I ever been in love."

Something amongst the group sullened, eyes regarding Rogue with a soft sympathy. Jean supped at her drink, Scott sipping with her. Gambit didn't sip, he rolled his glass around sullenly, and the younger X-Men just glanced to each other forlornly.

Logan looked to his drink, pushing it away.

And under the table, Rogue felt a hand grip her knee. It was gentle, comforting, and moreover possessive. She looked up to him, meeting his honey orbs.

"Okay," sighed Jubilee, "I say lets find another game to play..."

Rogue kept her gaze locked on Logan as he rolled the drink around in the tumbler in his hands. She swallowed, leaning forward, her face close to his.

"D'ya think it counts as love... if that other person doesn't love you back?"

He didn't look at her, simply at the glass in his hand, "How do you know the other person doesn't love you back?"

She shrugged, "I dunno - Ah'm guessin'."

Logan nodded.

"So... does it count?"

Logan gave a long sigh, still regarding his drink, never letting his eyes fall on her.

"I think it's got less to do with what the other person knows, and more to do with what you've done for them."

For a long moment, Rogue was confused. Was he talking about her? Or him? And if what he said applied, what had she ever done for him? She'd bummed a ride, eaten his soft jerky, taken his healing essence, gotten stuck up a big bronze statue and nearly died in the process. She had his tags and couldn't even hold onto them. She pursed her lips with a sad look of dejection.

"I never done anything for anyone."

Logan just looked down to his hands, running along the contours of his tumbler, thought glinting in his hazel eyes. And suddenly, they dragged up to hers, luminent in the warm glow of the red glass encased flame on the table, the gaze sinking into her and pinning her down.

"That ain't true, Kid."

She felt a part of herself melt and shudder, and grabbing her tumbler she finished it off in one long swig. She stood abruptly, Jubilee glancing up to her with some surprise. Looking to everyone around the table, she announced in a tone more husky than she would have liked.

"I'm gonna dance."

* * *

Drink, lust, the scarring ache of dejection and the constant niggling reminder that he hadn't gotten her a present let alone muttered well-wishes for her important day fuelled her downward spiral. No drink she ordered was left unfinished, and even the mild torrid stares from Gambit served to boost her all but suffering ego. It wasn't even ego. It was hope, love, soul. It had all been sent crashing into confusion by one look from Logan.

Why did he do this to her? Why did he act like she never existed, then say things, soft loving things, that made her think she was the only special thing in his life? Why did he do that to her? She bit back on angry tears, thumping the juke-box into action.

The hot ambling beat of sex tumbled from the jukebox, a soft yet strong voice singing out above it.

"I am milk," it said, "I am red hot kitchen... But I am cool... cool as the deep blue ocean. I am lost, so I am cruel. But I'd be love and sweetness... if I had you."

She twirled, letting her hips beat and undulate to the rhythm. From the corner of her eye she saw movement on the floor... Remy slipped on, his arms sliding around the similarly slinking form of Storm, her obsidian eyes locked with his, passion flowing in them. Rogue turned away from them, shifting to the corner, her eyes closed as she let her arms float, because if she opened them, tears would slip down over the lids.

She let her hips jig and bob, breathing deeply. The sweet rich smell of Jean wafted past, perfectly melded with the unmistakable catch of Scott's cologne. She twisted, and letting her eyelids bat slightly, Bobby and Kitty were in the corner. When she spun about, to catch a glimpse of Logan, her heart caught in her chest.

No longer was he sprawled on his chair with the three gouges spelling a 'w'. His towering muscled form leant on the juke-box, eyes locked to her lilting display. There was no smile on his features, no hint of amusement.

Only raw, succulent and unending lust.

She turned away, no smile falling on her features. She refused to smile - she had nothing to smile about - let alone any reason to send one in his direction. She didn't care how much he looked like he wanted her. It was a lie, it had to be a lie. Because if it wasn't, then the one man she'd grown to worship, grown to pin all her hopes upon, was a low-down shit-eating son-of-a-bitch.

She could feel his eyes on her, burning at her skin, pulling at her clothes. She could smell him too, Lord knows how amongst all the sweat and the beer and the Scott-cologne. It was a smoky smell, laced with spice and the round hungry scent of his body. She felt the familiar yawning grow inside of her, and a slice of her soul betrayed her as her hips began to bob towards him.

"I am weak," the song continued, "But I am strong. I will use my tears to bring you home.... I'm waiting, I'm waiting for youuuu."

She squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from him again. She had waited for him. She'd been a dog, lying with his tags around her neck, at bay and there at his whim. No more. No more.

So she turned away, spinning, lilting, pulling at her clothes, parting her lips and letting her hands press against them. The hands slid down over her breasts, pert bottom swaying gently side to side as her legs shifted and stepped to the intoxicating rhythm. Now he could damn well wait for her.

The next time she turned to steal a glimpse, there was something new in those honey-coloured pools, and if she were a little more sober she could have sworn it was concern.

She ignored him. She pulled away and ignored him. There was no Logan. There was Marie, the soul, the sadness, and there was this song that she existed in. No body... just movement. Her whole essence was colour and word, the song her page, and she existed in all the beauty she could muster.

Something broke in her reverie when a hand came in contact with the small of her back. Firm hands slid around her, so warm and tactile against the flimsy shroud that was her black gauzy shirt, and they moved her, pressed her against the tall rumpled muscular form she knew too well. There was no thought as she pressed her lips into the ruffled collars of his shirts, the warmth radiating from the small T-shirt he wore underneath it protecting the dip of his collar-bone from her desperate skin.

Hands touched her... touched her? She glanced down... his hands were clad in his soft riding gloves, the smell of machinery, oil, and the faint waft of petrol slipped into the mix. With a well of courage and a hint of submission, she pulled her eyes up to his.

She gripped his shirt, feeling her legs grow weak. Such love, such adoration. Her heart thumped wildly, almost pounding his chest as it battered her own. His nostrils twitched and she fancied he could smell her change in mood.

His eyes spoke to her. She could hear his soul so clearly through them, know his thoughts. She brought her hands up with a soft smile, letting them touch his chin. Her brows rose.

"Yeh-youh..."

The words were a soft huff, and he covered her lips with his thumb, leaning forward, eyes still fixed on hers. He shook his head and smiled.

Her heart died. Such a bright smile, it was hard to believe it came from such a rough, guarded man. Slowly, he brought her head down, nestling it into the nape of his neck - oh his blessed neck - and soft lips were pressed against her hair.

She pulled him around, she moved him, his legs shifting and stepping, his hands roaming her form. His lips touched her hair, their warm sinking through the strands, such reverence in his movements. She knew as they moved, he worshipped her, he revelled in her. Her whole heart was full, disbelief at the reality that surrounded her, at what he was doing to her. Oh God, she thought, hugging him tightly all of a sudden, as if to make sure he wasn't going anywhere soon, to make sure he stayed there, in her arms.

He embraced her in return.

The song fell to a close, however, the spell of the tones dying. She looked to him once more, fearing the Cinderella scenario. Logan just squeezed her and walked back to his chair, a long lazy smile on his face. With renewed glee, Rogue ordered another Black Russian.

* * *

They danced, danced to sad songs, sultry songs, songs that bolstered their already charging sense of camaraderie. Much to Scott's complete and utter joy, he found that the juke-box carried a KISS album and the strains of "I'm Gonna Rock and Roll All Night" blasted Lily's Tavern, with the added vocals of Remy and Scott. Bobby looked on with bewilderment as he wasn't familiar with the song, where-as Jean, Storm and Rogue danced with lashing hips and the banging of long-haired heads. The thrashing mix of white, chocolate brown and rich auburn was rather amusing to see.

It was the dying hours of the morning when the valiant X-Men thought that perhaps it was a good time to go home now.

Jubilee lay back in her chair, grinning. "So I said to the guy 'Maybe you'd look better with his dick up your ass!'"

Rogue, laying back with her head on Logan's shoulder, gave an abrupt laugh, a giggle following. "You rock man, you're my friend and you rock and I love you. All of you, absolutely. Yep."

Logan smirked.

Jean turned to look at Scott. He was face down on the table, the bowl of beer-nuts tipped up against his head.

"Honey - I think it's time we pack up and go home, hmmm?"

"Aaawwww!" Jubes thumped the table, "No no no we're just getting started!"

"It's four am," Jean said. She turned to look at Storm. The woman was sprawled out against Remy, grinning, her lips occasionally nipping at his. "Storm?"

"Hmmm?"

"What do you think?"

She didn't move, still gazing at Remy's ruby pools, "About?"

"Going home..."

"HMmm," she giggled, and nodded, waving a hand, "Sounds good to me."

Jean didn't even have to say anything to Bobby. He was passed out in his chair, Kitty snuggled in his arms.

"Come on, Scott, wake up."

She slapped his back firmly and the Fearless Leader practically leapt up in his chair, giving a grunt of surprise.

"Wuh - woh - is it morning yet?"

Logan smirked. Again.

"Nope, but it's time to go AWOL on the silver pumpkin, Princess."

He sank, "Oh..." He scratched at his face, the layer of peanut skins and beer-nuts stuck to his face no doubt the cause of the irritation.

"Okay," Jean sighed, standing up, "Time to go home people."

Rogue felt Logan pull her up. She sighed, leaning against him with a goofy smile.

"Yaaaay," she grinned, "Home home..."

"I'll take the presents home in my car," Jean said, "Bobby, Jubes and Kitty can get a lift with us and Storm-"

"We'll be walking," grinned the Weather Goddess, still chatting quietly with Remy.

Rogue was barely aware of what the others were doing as she was bustled out the door by a pair of strong arms, which promptly sat her on the bike.

"Don't forget your duster, Sandy."

She grinned to Logan as he pulled on his own leather jacket, taking the duster in her lap and pulling it on. "Thanks Danny, yer mah hero!"

Logan gave a smile, small and secret. There was a moment of silence as he pulled on the helmet, doing it up, passing Rogue her helmet from the compartment behind her. She watched him move, a smile of fascination on her face.

"You're not too drunk to ride are ya?" she asked him.

"Sober as a catholic priest on Tuesday," he mumbled, muffled by the helmet. "C'mon."

He straddled the bike, kicking the stand, his hand twisting the starter as the other worked the clutch. Rogue felt a thrill run through her as the motor whirred to life underneath her, and she wrapped her arms tight about him. She giggled, the sound making it's way through the helmet as Logan veered the bike off down the road.

"Ah like ridin' with ya," she said, her accent slurred and exaggerated with the headiness of alcohol.

An approving grunt made it's way over the helmet intercom. She grinned, intelligent decision gone. Everything she did, every move - it was pure will, pure whimsy. So when she let her hands roam and clutch his suddenly clenching pectorals, she didn't stop to think that maybe Logan wasn't that fond of her, or that he had a bike to ride.

No, all she thought was that damn dogs to the moon, she loved him completely, and she loved his chest and she wanted to squeeze those pecs till the cows came home.

A voice cleared over the mic, "Uh, Marie, I don't know if you remember that chat from before-"

"Ride."

A long sigh made it's way over the microphone.

She let her hands wander, her lips curling up evilly. She loved running circles around his chest where his nipples would be, and moving down, she tensed her fingers and ran long lines up and down his abdomen. She could feel his breath rise, grow fast, and she slipped a hand to his knee.

"Marie..."

It was a rumbling warning.

She pulled her hand up slowly, firmly. She began to breath audibly into the helmet.

"Oh Logan..."

"Marie-"

"Goofed..."

She could feel he was helpless. Her hand reached the hard swell of his groin, so damned hot... she pressed the flat of her palm against it, then let her fingers enclose it slowly.

She muttered a desperate bleat of pleasure as she felt how firm he suddenly became.

The next noise that fell from him sent her spiralling out of control. It was a whimper, a suffering, pleading, whimper.

"Marie... I can't - I can't drive!"

She grinned deviously, "Then don't."

She nearly fell out of her seat when the bike lurched to a stop. It wobbled, the stand being popped and large hands grabbed her, pulling her to muscular body as they tumbled into the surrounding brush of the wildlife reserve that bordered Xavier's huge property. Her helmet was quickly yanked off of her head, gloved hands sinking into her hair and pushing her into the ground.

She gave a long chuckle, sensual and absent of any traces of reservation, hands yanking at his shirts. He moved fast, grabbing her scarf and dropping it on her face. Before she could move, lips pressed through the black woven gossamer, the hard hot groin she'd handled before now grinding into her own. Control soon slipped from her fingers as the man in her arms plundered her completely, hands roaming, kneading, hips tilting, lips caressing wet through the thin fabric she'd worn out of vanity.

She huffed, tilting her head back as Logan shifted the scarf to her neck, to caress her there.

"God," she sighed, "You're a fucking animal..."

He only grunted in reply, gloved hands slipping under shirt, working at her bra. The elastic became loose and he sat her up, slipping the shirt over her shoulders, freeing the bra. She breathed softly as his eyes fell upon her, his whole stance melting a little. She gulped with some uncertainty.

"Whut?"

He shook his head, pulling up her gauzy shirt once more, "They're beautiful."

She blushed, letting him lay her back onto the rough uncut grass, hot lips splashing caresses upon her nipples through the shirt. She could feel his shirts hanging open around her, and she wanted his off - all off. She wanted to feel his chest brush her nipples, even if it was through the shirt.

"Off," she muttered, "Yours. Off."

She tugged at his shirt and he rumbled, shifting and pulling at his clothes. He threw his shirts aside, sinking down onto her, pressing his chest against hers and dragging it up as he kissed her through the scarf once more. She gave a muffled moan, arousal clouding her mind over completely, comprehension gone. All there was was hot wet lips at hers, no matter how slightly separated, and the feeling charging through her. She thought it, felt it, let it be known through every movement that he could have every inch of her.

His knee pressed at her groin, and with a hungry growl she pulled him down, riding against it frantically. She grunted as she lurched, legs wrapping around him and pulling him in tight. He pulled at the scarf as it bunched up, laying it flat, beginning a-new at her lips. She sighed again, tilting her head, squeezing him in her grip.

"Fuck you're stronger than a bear," Logan mumbled against her lips.

She sniggered, "When's the last time you fucked a bear?"

"Last spring, it's really cold in Canada."

Rogue giggled, "And the growling could be heard from Florida..."

"You bet your ass," he rumbled, grinding against her.

It was then the grinding became frantic. She wriggled in her pants, peeling them off, moaning plaintive huffs. His gloved hands found her crotch, pulling at the knickers there.

"Logan..."

"Hmm?"

He seemed a little distracted, and the arousal was overwhelming her. She squeezed her eyes shut through a huff, struggling to think. "Your gloves..."

"Hmm..."

"Won't they get dirty?"

There was a moment's silence as the warm smooth touch of the soft leather riding gloves he'd been wearing met the bare skin of her sex.

"They can be cleaned," he rasped deeply.

"Haahn!"

She bucked back in a long writhe as a finger slid into her. It was more the shock of the intrusion and the heady feeling of some part of Logan being inside of her than anything else. He gave an intrigued mumble.

"Well, someone has been busy down here..."

She could only chuckle, "Hey, when you got the prospect of bein' single the rest of yer life, knowing yourself becomes a priority."

His breathing slowed a little and he cradled a face with his hand. "You wouldn't have been single."

She gave a fascinated smile, "Oh yeah?"

He frowned, letting his hand slip in and out of her in long pulses. "No. Not with me around."

She took a sharp breath in, hips tilting up to meet his probing hand. A groan of pleasure left her.

"Oh Gooood," she tilted her head back, huffing, his lips finding her breasts again, "Oh man... shit Logan that feels fucking good."

He didn't say anything, just kept slipping the finger in and out, letting another join it, the firm tips rolling over the rippling front of her entrance, pushing delirious tension out of her body. She took in huge breaths.

"Oh oh - Jesus CHRAST," she gulped, "Oh oh oh - how the fuck are you doing that?"

"G-spot," he mumbled, lips sliding over the curve of a rib.

"Keep going..."

She could feel his lips grin against her, and she felt his thumb slide into place over her clitoris, rolling in sure dizzying circles. It was when he pressed a little harder, his tongue taking light trips around her chest, his fingers buried in her sex, plunging in and out in measured thrusts, that longer and louder moans were pushed from her throat.

"Logan! Fuck... oh God..." she breathed, arching her back, "Yes right there sweet GOD above right there..."

He grunted, passion fuelling him onwards. She felt the scarf slowly pulled from her neck, sliding downwards. The soft wet hotness of his lips suddenly closed over her clit.

"Uuhn! Mah GOD!! You clever suvva bitch!! That's it Logan honey ... Oh sweet Jesus..."

Words were slowly obliterated as his lips ran fuzzy wet whorls around her clit, hand pumping steadily, growing firmer.

"Please Logan, Oh God please..."

"Hmm?"

"Another finger... please!"

He grew silent, his inner caresses steady. He was careful when he eased another finger into the thrusts, his lips still working her. He could hear the shuddering of her breath, the scratching of her feet planted into the ground either side of him, clenching and keeping a hold. It took every ounce of her self control not to clamp him between her naked legs. God she was so close... she felt the hot burning there, a shaking ache that grew wilder with every thrust of his hand. She gave another verbal moan and Logan chuckled.

"Whatcha - Ummm - oh baby - what you laughin' at?"

"You."

She tried to frown but another desperate moan slipped out, "Why?"

"Never pinned you for a talker."

She grinned suddenly, "Oh you love it."

He remained silent, but his laving betrayed him. She gave soft breathy laugh, clutching what she could of him in gloved hands.

"OH-ho LOGAN!"

He growled low, "You mockin' me, Marie?"

"No," she giggled, "Oh shit no, jus' encouragin' ya - oh yeah like that!"

She felt his tongue push against her again, eliciting another frenzied moan.

"Luh - Logan! Say it - I want you to say it!"

He gave a puzzled grunt, still working her centre with his mouth.

Her voice became suddenly small, suddenly frightened.

"Do you love me?"

His hand clutched her thigh as he pushed her with dedication, the warm wet nudges and suckles of his tongue at her clit changing, something ardent, dedicated, impassioned. It was all she could do not to snap his head off, arching her back and letting out a guttural moan that echoed off the trees surrounding them. It was a sound of pure hot rushing release, of pain and pleasure in one melting sound.

She swallowed, wincing, a choked cry falling from her as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Oh God Logan STOP I can't - oh sweet Jesus don't STOP!"

Logan took only a moment to pause, long pulling strokes of his tongue running along the length of her clitoris, his fingers stroking long inside of her in tandem.

"Auh!!" She gave another sob, "Fuck! It's - HUHN! Again?! OH GOD!! Oh GOD!!! Oh GODd... okay you - Jesus - Logan for Christ's sake STOP - Oh God... I'm gonna have a heart attack... oh God..."

She kicked her legs, rolling backwards and away from the hungry mouth of Logan, who seemed to pant a little in the darkness. She scrambled for her pants, pulling them up with shuddering movements, weariness slowing her progress. All she could see was muted blues and greys, and the soft blue shape of a shirtless Logan, crouching in the moonlight.

He looked at home, bent over in the foliage, his eyes gleaming at her. She shuddered all over.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" she breathed.

He gave a doubtful grunt, pulling at his clothes on the ground. He moved carefully, almost painfully. She sighed suddenly, descending on him.

"Nuh-uh," she said, sitting him down on his bottom, splaying his legs out. "We'll have none o' that runnin' away now."

His breathing became ragged. Her gloved hands fell to his belt buckle, unlatching it slowly, her face close to his.

"Ah'm a big girl now," she whispered, "Hmm, boy am I gonna enjoy it."

Of course, she was stronger than him now. He couldn't do a lot to protest, even if he didn't want her to 'relieve' him.

The zip made a wonderful rough noise in the darkness, the gleaming bronze coloured metal glinting blue in the moonlight. She tilted her head, watching the shape of his penis push out against the dark emerald green of his briefs. She could see the line of the head, the long sweeping contours of the shaft, and without much thought she sank down, pressing her lips against the fabric.

He groaned long, catching himself with propped elbows as he fell backwards, her hot hungry lips feathering over him.

"God, you're a big boy," she sighed, her voice curling in want.

She deftly yanked his hips up by the waistband of his pants, pulling his jeans and underwear off in one fast sweep of clenched hands. He growled, perhaps in warning, most certainly in arousal, threatening to shift away. She just grinned, pinning him down with pleather-clad legs, looking down at the liberated erection with much deep thought.

She fought to hide any uncertainty as she let her fingers slide around it, thumb running circles on the underside of the glans. It was all experiment, all trial and error, but it seemed to serve as short breaths escaped him.

"Breath deep now sugah," she said, her caresses becoming steady, "You'll need the oxygen."

What was supposed to be "I'll bet" came out as a whimper, and the elbows holding up his shoulders that his head just hung back from gave out suddenly, a rustled 'thwump' filling the clearing.

She pouted her lips, crouching over and taking great dedication in beginning long strokes, her thumb never straying far from the glans. She brought her other hand in, running circles around his balls, the flesh under her hot even through gloves. He was suddenly helpless, suddenly hers, responsive to every tiny change in pressure, caress and slide. She blew over the pulsing flesh, hot and cold, damp and dry, tandem and disjointed surprise.

With the clawed tips of her fingers she ran them up the length of his cock suddenly, a deep moan lifting from him, cutting through the air like a lofty howl.

"Aw sugah," she doted, her voice gentle, "You'll be there soon."

He gave another mumble, higher, need seeping through the tones. She pulled at her scarf, draping it over the straining flesh. His call rang out again as her lips touched his head, the teasing wet of her mouth sending him mad.

He couldn't talk, couldn't articulate. His animal self was brought to the fore as his humanity was humbled and rendered wordless by her touch, her sweet lamenting yet damn it - so POWERFUL touch. He'd never known one to have such sway over him, to change him with a breath or a look or a kiss. And she did it to him, over and over with every stroke.

He didn't say he loved her - how could he when he couldn't even speak. He'd swore to himself not to mumble it the first time like some half-hearted thanks. He'd look into her eyes and say it, let her know it was real. Yes he promised himself that, he'd let her know. Damn it all he'd let her know.

He lay there with aching skin, arching and breathing and yawning for release. She ran her tongue down underneath him, fingers squeezing and rubbing and moving and he stretched his legs, pointed his toes, clutched his eyes shut. He contained it, he had to, he wouldn't let it go cause if he did, he'd release and it'd be over and he savoured every second of her around him, making him whole for the brief moments he'd always dreamed of.

He couldn't hold on, no no no, couldn't hold back as she slithered her tongue over him, tightened her lips, clawed her fingers around his balls and ran lines over them lightly, he could barely breath but all that fell from his mouth was small huffs, plaintive and lost and of complete submission.

"Marie," he breathed, "Marie..."

She said nothing, and suckled on him slowly.

He shut his eyes tight, letting her name be spoken over and over as the brink escaped him.

"Oh!" he cried out, then bit his lip, breathing fast, "Marie... oh Marie..."

He could hear her breath in long through her nose as he released inside of her, her mouth powering to contain it all. He could hear her swallow, and his breath grew ragged... he never expected her to.

He couldn't help but find it odd when she finally pulled back from caressing him that she laughed. A slow sad laugh.

"Marie?"

She shrugged, "I never - I never thought I'd get to do that - to taste you."

He released a long sigh, grabbing a shirt and cleaning up what he could. He couldn't say it now. He'd say it tomorrow. He had to, or he'd never say it at all.

She sat there in the clearing, her shirt around her waist as she put her bra back on. He watched her, her long chocolate hair spilling about her shoulders, platinum bolts flashing in the blue light of the small hours. She stretched languorously, pulling on her gauzy shirt, and folded up the scarf, shoving it in the plastic pocket of her pants.

"That'll never come out," she mumbled, somehow with affection in her voice.

"I'll get you another one," he said, pulling his jacket on over his shirts, one rumpled and stuffed in his jeans.

There was a scuffle, and Rogue glanced up, alarm in her eyes.

"Anyone dyin' in there or we be on our way?"

Rogue blinked, and rolled over onto her side, spilling over with laughter.

"You'll be on your way if you know what's good for you Cajun," Logan growled, jumping up to his feet.

In the path to the road the silhouette of the Weather Goddess and Gambit made a pretty picture, the chuckling from Storm giving away her intoxicated state.

"Oh man I keep goin' here, I don't wanna be seein' anything," Gambit mumbled, sounding rather embarrassed.

Storm, however, came stumbling forward with no embarrassment or worry of what she might see at all. She crouched next to Rogue, sniggering quietly, her voice a whisper.

"Makin' the most of the night eh? This's good."

Rogue frowned, "You okay Ro?"

Ororo nodded vigourously, "Oh yes, I'm fine. Dear Remy is the best damn kisser you could ever find, I promise you that."

Rogue grinned, "Yeah well Logan's lips aren't too shabby either, Madam Windy-Pants!"

Storm giggled, "Madam Windy-Pants! I like that!"

Rogue shook her head, "Oh you won't in the morning."

"That - remains - to be seen!" she said with some emphasis on each word, her voice thick with her accent, "Well, my prince awaits. I shall see you - when I see you!"

Giving her two thumbs up, Storm staggered to her feet, Remy not coming to help her. No, his feet were firmly planted to the ground by the side of the road. He didn't want to see, smell, feel - ANYTHING. Logan glared after the Weather Goddess as she joined the Cajun, watching her wave back fondly at Rogue. Rogue couldn't help but giggle.

"She's tore-up from the floor up!"

Logan just blinked at her, doing up a few buttons in his shirt, "Huh?"

Rogue laughed again, leaning towards him, "She's DRUNK."

"Oh!" He nodded, "Right yeah."

Pulling herself to her feet, Rogue pulled on the last of her discarded clothing, smiling lazily at the dressing man, sitting on his bottom on the forest floor again. Her heart warmed, and she felt like mumbling something to him, something sweet or loving or binding. Closing her eyes to think, something inside of her fell like a favourite china doll to the floor.

He still hadn't said happy birthday.

* * *

The rest of the ride home was quiet. Very quiet. Somehow she couldn't find it in herself to speak to him. He had given her soft looks on the way to the bike, soft movements as she wrapped her arms about him on the bike, and a softer goodbye as he kissed her hair and said goodnight at the door to her room. She watched him walk off with a swaggering step, a coolness, a laid-back air to him that tore her up inside. After all the hours she'd been turning, he never said it. Not once.

Looking down, she saw her bag of presents at the door. And somehow, that son of a bitch made all that love, all that support and all that tenderness from her new family feel like nothing. Cause he didn't give her a damn thing.

Not a word, not a hug, not a nod. Just a fuck in the woods and burrs in her hair.

Grabbing the bag she stormed into her room, dragging off the soiled clothes and throwing them in her hamper, tears welling over in her eyes.

"Suvva bitch," she mumbled with a growl, "Son of a BITCH!"

She kicked the hamper aside, cracking it's wicker frame with her titanic strength, and after another crunching kick from her toe, she sank down on her bed, completely naked. Her toe hurt. Why did she have to kick things like that. She let out long hot sighs, trying not to cry. She wouldn't cry - wouldn't spend any more tears than she had.

Jumping to her feet, she stomped to her bathroom, setting the heat of the water high and washing herself from head to toe. Washing away his smell, his touch - everything. She brushed her teeth and washed her mouth, scrubbed her hair, did anything to rid herself of the feeling that she'd done what she did. Why did she do it?! Damn it all.

She stepped from the shower, and pulling on a nice set of silk pyjamas she'd gotten in New York with Jubes, she crawled into bed. She lay there, staring at the ceiling for a long time.

She did it, in the woods, cause she loved him. It was the single most stupid fucking thing she'd ever let herself do.

She groaned long, the room spinning slowly about her. Oh she wished it would stop, just for a moment. Rolling onto her side she crushed her face into the pillow, breathing the smell of clean linen. That clean smell, it smelt of nothingness, of security, of somewhere warm and tranquil.

Not rough, not nature, not sand and sod and the huff of heavy muscled chest.

No no no. She shoved the thoughts of that night out of her mind. Shit, who the hell was she kidding. It was impossible. She knew without a doubt that when she crashed into unconsciousness, that melded thoughts of half-clothed sex with Logan would chase her there. With a long sigh she grumbled to herself.

Being twenty-one sucked.

* * *

Her last thought before sleep was more correct and outstanding than any other thought that she had ever thought in her life. Twenty-one did suck. Majorly. When she dared to open her eyes that morning, her brain didn't ache, no, and she didn't feel like spewing. It was worse. It was on the edge of feeling bad, it wasn't one way or another. Her whole being felt somehow heavy, her mouth rough and fuzzy and her throat hurt. And she was still dizzy. So she groaned, let out a whimper of defeat and rolled over.

Logan. Standing, there next to her bed. Had he woken her? She couldn't remember waking up. She screwed up her face and growled.

"What do you want?"

He cocked a brow slowly, wrapping his arms strangely about his chest, his jacket zipped up to a little below his neck.

"Nothin' much."

She sighed, rolling over, "Go away."

"No."

Bastard. She groaned again.

"Logan - I'm trying to sleep in here!"

"You should get up."

She sighed, "Why?!"

"Cause, if you don't then I'm going to have this thing in my jacket for another two hours and her bladder control isn't the best at the moment."

She frowned. What thing in his jacket?! She rolled over again, leaning on her elbows, watching Logan lope over to her bed, his hands pressing against his zipped up jacket. Yeah, that was kind odd. His jacket had a funny lump in it that rolled about and made funny muffled noises, and if it was what she thought it was, she thought her throat might acquire a lump of it's own.

"Logan," she breathed as he sat down, "What did you do?"

He shrugged, unzipping his jacket, "You smell nice."

She blinked, "Thank you."

That's when it tumbled out onto the bed. A striped smoke-grey bundle of kitten. Her heart stopped, her throat bunched, and she felt tears spike in her eyes.

"Oh Logan," she breathed, "Oh Logan! It's - oh it's so - Oh I can't - I can't believe it!"

He shrugged, pulling the kitten back from the edge of the bed.

"It's a she. Downright lunatic animal, I swear. Thought she'd suit you."

"Buh--"

The kitten turned around from the edge of the bed, and glanced up at her with wide blue eyes. She crawled over with wide spread paws and mewed. Carefully, Rogue lay her hand down on the little cat's head, beginning to stroke it carefully.

"Happy birthday, Marie."

She glanced up to him. His eyes were warm, a softness in his smile that seemed to wash all the bitterness inside her away. She narrowed her eyes from happy years, smiling slowly.

"I love you, Logan," she said, "I do."

He gave an amused smile, watching her sniffle, and nodded, "I love you too Marie."

She tilted her head, "Do you?"

He blinked, "Yeah-"

"No no," she shook her head, "I mean, do you love me, like - LOVE me. The Big L. Ces L'Amour-"

"Yeah yeah yeah," he nodded again, sniggering quietly, "The Big L, Marie."

She gave a sigh, her face lighting up a little, watching the kitten play in her lap. It was almost a sigh of relief, though she didn't feel anything near relief. Just fire.

"I kinda thought it'd be obvious after last night..."

"Uhhnn," Rogue shook her head, her tone wary, "No Logan. I thought - I dunno. Ya didn't say anything - everyone else was givin' me presents an' stuff and-"

"Hey..."

He took a hold of her arm, running his thumb over it gently, reminding her of his caresses the night before.

"I wanted it to be just us. And I couldn't get the kitten till yesterday afternoon."

Rogue looked down, blushing. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Ah! Wait a minute... "Why didn't you give her to me last night?"

He tipped his head at her, "I wanted you to remember getting it. I kinda knew you were gonna get wasted."

She rolled her head around a moment, processing the validity of the excuse. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You could have said Happy Birthday."

He sighed, "Look, it was an important birthday. I wanted the moment to be special."

Rogue shook her head, "You're a real one for moments aren't ya?"

"Uh-huh," he said, grunting a little as he pushed himself over next to her, wrapping an arm around her. She shifted, smiling with awe at the moment, letting herself sink into his arms once he settled. The smile widened as he pressed his lips to her head, a definite lingering there. He rested his head against hers, lips laying against her hair.

"So... whatcha gonna call her?"

The kitten looked up at them a moment before looking back to the quilt-covered thighs underneath her feet where she began to paw steadily, claws extending. A few threads began to fluff up under them.

"Well," she said, leaning into the press of Logan's lips, "I think I'll call her Kali."

"Kylie? What kinda-"

"No," she shook her head, leaning it away to meet his eyes, "Kah-lee, it's an Indian Goddess."

"Oh," he grunted, "Right. What kinda Goddess?"

"Goddess of Destruction," Rogue grinned with laughter in her voice.

"Oh God, that's perfect," Logan said, looking a little pale, "You shoulda seen the mess she made of my room."

'Kali' decided she didn't like being ignored, and promptly began to nudge at Logan's hand, purring loudly.

"Oh, she likes you," Rogue said, patting the kitten's fur. "Why a cat?"

Logan shrugged, "Well, dogs are too messy, and I don't figure you for a dog person."

"I like dogs," she said.

"Yeah well - they jump and they lick - and with your skin-"

"Oh," she nodded, "Yeah you're right."

"Yeah. And a cat would be more subdued - well they were supposed to be. Something's wrong with this one."

"Oh no," Rogue grinned, picking the kitten up carefully and holding her up in the air, "She's fiiiine!"

The kitten gave a wide-eyed look of uncertainty at Rogue, which Rogue responded to with a vocal gasp which fell to a giggle.

"She's so cuuute!" she said, pressing her lips to the cat's head, "Oh this is wonderful!! She's warm and soft and I can touch her and she's not hurt!"

Logan nodded, "That was the general idea."

Letting the kitten down, Rogue twisted around, hugging Logan tight.

"Thank you! Ugn!! You're a big sweetheart."

She kissed a ruffle of his hair, then his cheek under the sideburns. He smiled a little, pointing to the cat.

"You're gonna squash Kali there..."

An amused chuckle fell from Rogue and she bounced in the bed.

"I have a cat! And I love her I love her!"

"Well the Goddess is probably overdue for a feed," he said, rolling off the bed, "We should get her things from my room."

Rogue looked up to him as he loped to the door, the kitten jumping off the bed and chasing after his heels.

"Logan..."

He stopped at the door, looking back to her. "Yeah?"

"Did last night - I mean - did it mean-"

"Meant the world, Marie," he said, honey eyes warm.

A smile lingered at her lips, and she looked back to him, "Ya promise?"

His lips curled up in an amused grin and he nodded, "Yeah, I promise."

She nodded back at him, "Okay. We'll feed Kali."

She got up, padding across the room, Kali bounding to her and twisting around her ankles.

"Anything little Goddess prefers?"

Logan held the door open for her and grinned. "Yeah, the blood of innocent virgins."

"You're a sick bastard," Rogue laughed, and waiting for Kali to run out after Logan, she closed the door behind her.

"Oh! Nearly forgot..." He stopped, fiddling behind his neck.

Rogue frowned, "What're you doing?"

He looked at her as he fiddled at the back of his neck, winking. She smiled. Without a word he pulled his hands back, and hanging from his hands was his tags.

"You want these back?"

Rogue blushed and smiled, kicking at the floor with a coy dip of her head.

"It'd be nice."

He pursed his lips, battling the huge grin that wanted to spread across his face. With care, he draped the chain around her neck and re-did the clasp, letting the metal fall around her neck. He gave a long sigh, nodding slightly.

"That's better," he said.

"Jubilee took 'em," Rogue said, looking down at the tag and running her fingers over it.

"I know," Logan said, "She said they made you unhappy."

Rogue glanced up, her eyes flashing.

"Never. They never made me unhappy."

Logan nodded again, a smile curling on his lips. "That's good. C'mon - let's feed this little savage."

He wrapped an arm around her as they started down the corridor, and Rogue leant into it, a satisfied sigh taking her. Yup - twenty-one was getting better all the time.

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