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Title: Same Coin, Different Sides - Rogue Author: Terri E-Mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating: PG-13, mention of poo Disclaimer: I don’t own them. Darn. Archive: Dolphin Haven, Peep Hut, Agony and Ecstasy - anyone else, please ask ;) Feedback: Please? With a peep-free moment or two on top? Those damn things are everywhere this time of year! Good, bad, and ugly welcome……. Summary: AU. Logan. Marie. Bombs dropping. Mutie soap operas. Plans. And imaginative kissing :) Comments: I’ll warn you right now - read at your own risk. No, there’s nothing too scandalous in the contents of the fic, but in the past three days, my car, my hair dryer, and my office fax machine have died while I was using them. There is the chance, however remote, that my mechanical-things-killing aura could extend to your ‘puter through this fic ;) There’s someone coming tomorrow to fix the fax, and I found a cool ‘ionic breeze’ hair dryer at Target, but my car is still under the weather - and they have no idea when it’ll be fixed. You know, it occurs to me that mechanics, repairmen, builders, etc. get away with things the rest of us can only dream about. If I told my boss I didn’t know when I’d have her report ready - hey, maybe it’ll be Friday, maybe not, I’ll see what we can do but I can’t make any promises! - she wouldn’t take it with nearly the magnanimity that I’m expected to take such pronouncements from my mechanic. If I didn’t return phone calls for days on end, I’d probably be fired. If I showed up an hour late with the attitude that the office should be glad to see me *at all*, it just may go over a tad less than splendidly. Can you tell I’ve had way too many home/car repair experiences lately? ------------------------------------------------ “I think I need to talk to the Professor.” There. There we go. Words out. Bomb dropped. Now, let’s see how Logan reacts. I’m half-afraid the few days we’ve had of holding hands and kissing are over, but I think I really have to do this. The Professor needs to know what was going on back at that lab, and *I* need to take my best shot at convincing him to do something about all that. Of course, all of the extreme nervousness I’m feeling about this would be ameliorated if you’d *ahem* SAY SOMETHING now, Logan! “Why’re you tellin’ me?” Whew. He speaks. Finally. “You expect me to help you escape or somethin’?” Hmmm. OK - no full-on anger, which is good, but he *is* giving me the Eyebrow of Disbelief. “No. No. I’m not talking about escaping. I’m talking about, um, talking to the Professor. And I’m telling you because I didn’t want to go behind your back.” “Why not?” Funny how his eyes get really sharp all of a sudden. “Because we’re……you know……doing stuff. Together. We’re a - a ‘we’ and it’s not fair to you to go behind your back with something like this.” “How do ya know I won’t tell Mags, won’t stop you from goin’?” Hey! “You’d tell Magneto?” I think that perhaps it’s time to have a little chat about appropriate boyfriend behavior and how it doesn’t include tattling on your sweetheart to her kidnapper. “I didn’t say that. I said - how do ya know I won’t?” “I - I guess I’m assuming you won’t because…..well, because I guess I’m assuming that you’ll think I’m more important to you than he is.” Hmmm. I don’t know quite what to make of that look. And he’s touching my earring again, the one he put through his tag. “Even if you do think that, you gotta remember, Marie - he’s one of the few people in this world that can fuck me up. I got metal all through me, darlin’.” “So you’re afraid of him?” Because I may not know everything about my new boyfriend but ‘scaredy cat’ just doesn’t seem to fit at all. “Look - I *like* bein’ in the general shape I am now, instead of, say, in a mother-fuckin’ pretzel, all right? Survival’s more important to me than just about anythin’ else, and you’d better get that straight about me.” Whoa. Defensive much? I’ve never heard quite that tone from him before. “’Sides - you don’t know what it’s like to have your insides rearranged, so maybe you shouldn’t bitch about me worryin’ a little over that, huh?” There’s the anger. And pissiness. Great. Just great. Now he’s running away - OK, stomping off - to the back porch. That’s always where he goes when he’s annoyed about something. Of course, I have to follow him out. We’re not done talking about this. “Hey - I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was being flip. I was - well, I guess I kinda was being flip. I’m sorry.” Let’s try it with your brain working this time, Marie. Can’t just leave him looking all sad and slumped up against the porch post. “Look, Logan, I know he could really do you some damage, and you’re right - it’s not a simple thing. I’m not - maybe you’re right and I shouldn’t ask you to help me do this and I’m not, I guess, I’m just telling you that I am because I didn’t want to go behind your back and do it. And, OK, I’m asking you not to share that little tidbit of knowledge with our boss. I am asking you to do that.” No reaction. Great. “I just need to do this for my own peace of mind, Logan. The Professor - he’s the one who raised me, who took me in. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, and I *know* - I just know he’ll do something about it. He can’t know all this and just let it happen. I don’t believe that.” “What if you’re wrong?” “Then I’ll know for sure.” But I can’t imagine - “And then you’ll join us? For real this time, no indecision, no bullshit?” “I don’t know if that’s the right thing either.” “Why not just escape, Marie? Why come back after talkin’ to him? You think he’s gonna letcha walk outta that fancy mansion and back into the lovin’ arms of his worst enemy?” “He can’t stop me from doing what I please either, Logan, not if push comes to shove.” He really can’t. His telepathy doesn’t work on me because of the nature of my mutation - the only way into this brain is through the skin, thank you very much. “But that won’t happen.” “You still didn’t answer me why, Marie. Why come back here at all?” “Well, because of you.” Duh. “You’ll be in trouble if I don’t.” “And you give a shit about that, why?” You know, I never believed all that stuff you read in the magazines about how men are thick-headed and stubborn and how you can’t get through to them even if you whack them over the head with a two-by-four, but he’s doing a pretty good imitation of that stereotype at the moment. “Because I give a shit about *you*. Because I like you. Because we’re a ‘we.’ Because you’re more important to me than the Professor.” Well - kind of. In a way. In the way that I wouldn’t hurt him if I had to choose between that and doing something the Professor wanted. “You have no reason to like me.” “Well, what does reason have to do with it anyway?” Look, I may be young and naïve, but I know at least that much. Love isn’t logical. “It’s not reasonable - it’s just there. I like you. That’s how it is. Deal with it.” Glancing over his shoulder to let me see his little smirk at that. At least he’s looking at me and not slumping quite so much. That’s progress. “So - I’ll, um, talk to the Professor at some time and in some way that I won’t inform you of so that if things do go wrong you won’t be accountable to Magneto for knowing those things and then I’ll - ” “No.” “Um, what?” “I said no - that’s not how we’re gonna do this.” “Well, technically *we’re* not doing it, just me, and I think I can decide - ” “No.” All right. Ladies and gentleman, we have arrived at Completely Lost. Please exit through the doors on your right. “Make up your mind, Marie - either we’re a ‘we’ or we ain’t. If we are, then I’m in it too.” Whoa. Whoa. Wait one second. Because that’s not what I was thinking and if Magneto finds out he *did* go to the Professor, he might be mad enough to hurt Logan, really hurt him. Like he said - there’s a lot of metal in there and - “Well, Marie - which one is it? Huh?” “We’re a ‘we.’” I’ve got that part decided. “But I don’t think you should come with me.” “I think I should.” “Well I don’t.” “Damn woman.” Grunting and pacing over to me with that sharp look in his eye again. “Can’t you ever just do what I say?” “Yes. Yes, I can. And, in fact, I often do exactly what you say. When you say ‘No singing in the shower, Marie’ I stop singing. When you say ‘Don’t drink the beer, it’s mine’ I steer clear. When you say - ” “Marie, dammit.” Oh-oh. He’s doing the toe-to-toe, I’m-towering-over-you-to-assert-my-dominance thing. It never really works on me but he always does it. “I’m bein’ serious. I should go with ya. I don’t trust Wheels not to try to keep ya there, not to try to grab ya. You’re too damn trustin’ of those X-fuckers.” “I used to be one of them, remember?” “Nah, you were just a little fucklet. They didn’t have you indoctrinated all the way, they couldn’t have or ya wouldn’t be here now. You’d be in one of Mags’ cells spoutin’ off ‘bout how you’ll never join the dark side. You’d be gettin’ your ass kicked and your brain washed. And if you really were one of ‘em, Marie - they’d be lookin’ for ya by now. They ain’t. Not at all. Mystique left days ago and - ” “Wait a second - Mystique left where days ago?” Oh-oh - he’s got that ‘busted!’ look. He knows something he didn’t tell me! He totally knows something important that he didn’t tell me and oh my God, I can’t believe he didn’t tell me everything! “Logan………” “She went to the mansion. Impersonated you. Gave us a little bit of a head start, to let the trail get cold in case they did start lookin’. That’s all, that’s it.” “How could you not tell me this!” And there’s my full-on anger - hey, don’t get the steel magnolia in me riled up, buddy! “It was easy. I didn’t say nothin’. I just - shit, Marie, this was before the hand-holdin’ and all that other shit. I just didn’t say nothin’.” “You - you big weenie!” And don’t give me the eyebrow, mister - you’re in serious trouble. “Yes, I said weenie. It’s all I can think of right now but I’m sure I’ll be calling you other names later. *How* could you not tell me this?” “I didn’t say nothin’. I toldya that. I just thought - ” “You just thought someone stealing my face and my body and walking around the mansion - teaching classes, going out with friends, doing my chores and - oh my God, she didn’t do anything weird, did she?” “I dunno. She probably just did whatever you’d normally do. And then she, you know, left a note explaining that you ran away.” ‘What?!” God, this just gets better and better, doesn’t it? “Look, she hadta give some excuse or they coulda been on our asses right off. Turns out they still ain’t lookin’ for ya yet and they gotta know that you’re gone by now.” “Well, gee, since I left a note saying I ran away and - oh, this is just a shot in the dark here, but I bet it said something like ‘don’t come looking for me’ - given all that, I sure can’t *imagine* why they’re not looking for me!” “If they really cared about ya they’d look anyhow. Only one that’s showed any signs of lookin’ is - ” Oh no - after all that you do *not* get to clam up, mister! “Who?” “Nobody.” You don’t get to be all sullen either. “Logan, who?” “That little kid, the one you said you did scarf things with.” Scarf things? “Bobby?” “Mph.” “Bobby’s looking for me?” “Stopped lookin’ a coupla days ago. Gave up. See? He’s not really all that interested in ya if he gave up that fast.” “Oh man…………” I just cannot believe this. I just can’t believe it at all. Mystique, running around looking like me, doing the things I do, talking to my friends and Bobby and - good Lord, I hope Bobby didn’t make some kind of move on her or something. “What? You thinkin’ of lettin’ that little ice-machine asshole know where you are? You still lookin’ for some scarf time with him?” “What? No, no - I’m with you now.” But God, I’d like to brain you with that two-by-four right about now. “Logan - look, you’ve got to tell me these things. This is critical information. If I’d contacted the Professor not knowing he thinks I ran away………” Hey - wait a second. He thinks I ran away. Maybe - maybe that can be used to my advantage. Maybe if he thinks I ran away there’s no reason to make him believe otherwise. No one necessarily needs to know it was Mystique. I can say - I ran away to join the dark side, but now I’m not so sure. That’ll be an excellent excuse for why I’m going back to the Brotherhood and not staying with the Professor. I’ll show the Professor the documents on Legacy and whatever I can scrounge from Magneto’s files on that lab and - “If he thinks you ran away - what?” Right. Logan. Can’t let the Professor think that Logan lured me away or anything because they don’t know about the real deal with Jean and he’ll be all worried for me. God - could my life get any more complicated? This could be Days of Our Mutie Lives. Or Mutant Hospital. Or All My Mutants. Heh. I like that one. “Marie?” “Right. Sorry. Thinking. Logan - maybe the safest way to do this, for both of us, is to let him think I really *did* run away. I can show him the evidence on Legacy and the footage of the lab that Magneto has on disk and say that’s why I joined - ” “Marie, I’m tellin’ ya - he’s seen all that shit. He’s seen all the Legacy documents. He just don’t care.” “Even if that’s true, he’ll care about the lab. He will. I know him.” And I know you don’t believe me, but I kind of need your support on this one. Please, Logan. “I need to try.” “All right. But both of us go. I don’t fuckin’ trust him, you understand me?” Loud and clear. “But what if Magneto finds out?” “Then I’m fucked.” “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” “Hmph.” Oh, don’t give me the eyebrow. “I mean it - my skin will work on him just like anyone else. If he hurts you, I’ll steal his powers and fix you.” OK, I might go insane and Magneto will probably die in the process, but I’ll do it. I really will. I can’t explain it, but the fact that Logan’s willing to put so much on the line for me - it makes me feel all protective of him. “We’ll be careful. But if something goes wrong, I’m not going to abandon you to him. I heard - I really heard what you said about survival and not wanting to have your insides rearranged. I know it’s a serious thing, what we’re thinking about doing here. But I’ll protect you.” “Don’t need a protector, Marie. I can take care of my own damn self. If shit hits the fan with Mags, you just get the hell outta here - as far as you can go, as fast as you can go, you got me? ‘Cause if I could think of puttin’ on head-to-toe coverings and goggles, so can Mags. So can Vic. You won’t fuckin’ like it if they get a hold of you.” “I’m not going to run. I’m not a runner. Or even a jogger. I’m a stander. I’m standing here, with you, if the, um, poo does hit the fan.” “Poo?” “I don’t like the s-word. It’s icky in that context. Too visual.” Yeah, yeah, you can’t believe you’re going to pull off a secret caper with a girl who says poo. “We’ll be careful. And it’ll be OK. I promise.” I’m going to make sure of that, for Logan’s sake. I can’t repay how nice he’s been to me by screwing him over. I have to make sure we’ll both be OK. “OK, OK. We’ll give it a go if that’s your plan. Just one thing - how’re you gonna keep him from figurin’ out you didn’t run off after all? Or that you’re plannin’ on comin’ back here?” “Like I said - he can’t make me do anything. Telepathy doesn’t work on my head. It’s kind of related to my mutation, I guess, but it doesn’t work.” “Yeah, but it’ll work on my head.” Oh crap. Hadn’t thought of that. All he has to do is read Logan - probably not even read him, just take in what he’s projecting. Logan’s not exactly Mr. Keep It All In. Crap. “I didn’t think of that.” Oh, don’t roll those gorgeous eyes at me, mister. “Marie - you sure you’ve thought this through? I mean, if we’re gonna risk a lot to do this, we oughta figure out every angle.” “Since when did you become Strategic Planning Guy?” From what I’ve heard about him, and from what I saw on that first mission, he’s more like Kick Butt and Take Names Guy. Or, you know, Kick Butt and Screw Taking Names Guy. But definitely not the strategist of the group. Nothing wrong with that - nothing at all, and it certainly doesn’t mean he’s not smart. It just kind of means that he’s got too much of a temper and too little patience to do the strategy thing. “Since your ass is on the line here.” Aw. I know he said it all gruff and snarly but - awww. That’s sweet, actually. Very sweet. “What?” “Hmm?” “You’re lookin’ at me weird, Marie.” “I like you.” “And this is how you express it? With weird looks?” “Heh. Yeah. You know, Logan - you didn’t even mention your own ass.” And what a damn fine ass it is. A really damn, damn fine - oh, God - you know, I can’t help but get all these naughty thoughts about him at times like this. “I’m plenty worried ‘bout my own ass, believe me. Just - hmph.” It’s also cute when he gets all tongue-tied. “Look - we don’t hafta do this right now. Let’s sleep on it, think it through some. If we’re gonna take a chance, I want all the angles covered. And Marie - you don’t hafta do this in person. Mail, e-mail, all that shit - there’s lotsa ways to get the info to him without a face-to-big-ass telepathic brain.” “Yeah, I know, but there’s no other way to see his reaction.” “What makes ya think he’s gonna letcha see jack shit? Telepaths are notorious for bein’ able to hide shit like that.” You know, it suddenly dawns on me that maybe I’m being exactly as naïve as Logan thinks I am. I haven’t thought of any of this. Heck, Logan’s right - I’m not an X-Man, I’m just a little X-Fucklet, and one who’s in way over her head. “I didn’t think of that either.” “Hey - what’s your problem? Your scent changed.” “Oh. Well, I - I was just thinking that you really know what you’re doing in a situation like this and I, um, don’t. And I was thinking that it’s really brave of you and really sweet that you’d do this with me even though I’m probably rushing in to this without having everything figured out.” “Well, we’ll get it figured out. And yeah, Marie, I’m better at this kinda shit. I should be. I’ve had more experience in dangerous situations and with people who smile real pretty but shit on ya all the same.” “Again with the poo-related visuals.” And an eye-roll. And a big sigh. “C’mere.” I’ve noticed that he really likes having me close. Not just at times like this - at times when I’m a little upset or out of sorts. He likes it just generally, and with my skin, that’s a very rare thing. I’ve been taking full advantage of it. “It was real nice whatcha said, you know, about standin’ by me, but I don’t wanna take any unnecessary chances here. We gotta think this through. If you meant it, what you said.” “What I said about what?” “About us bein’ a ‘we.’” “Oh. That. I meant it.” And I’ll give you a little squeeze to let you know I really, really did. “All right then.” He’s squeezing back. He really is kind of a sweetie. Somewhat. Well, when it comes to me. “Think you might lemme kiss ya?” “Where?” Because when I suggested kissing, he had some *very* interesting ideas for where he would like to do that. He didn’t limit his thinking to lips or even facial areas, oh no. “Here.” I should’ve guessed that my, ah, chest would be his first choice. If there’s any excuse at all to touch them, he takes it. I’ve never, ever had anyone’s hands there before his, let alone anyone’s lips, but the way he looks at me when he does it makes me feel warm all over. I like it. I like it a lot, actually. I don’t know if that’s bad or slutty or what, but it doesn’t feel that way when his hands have been on me. It just feels good. It bet his lips would feel pretty good there too. “Maybe……” “Maybe?” I know he’s surprised - every time he’s suggested it, I’ve said no. Well, I actually haven’t said no, I’ve kind of blushed and gently pushed his hand away after a few minutes. OK, maybe more than a few minutes on one occasion or two. But this time…… “Yeah?” Mmmm…….those little squeezes are going to make me lose all speech. And - oh, God! - he’s going to do it. He’s going to kiss me right there, right through the t-shirt. I haven’t had a bra since I got mutie-napped, and that’s the only thing between his mouth and my - “Logan!” That’s not kissing, it’s sucking, but it’s *good*. Oh, *God* it’s good. “Logan……” “Other one.” Oh yeah, I’m in favor of that. Definitely. So good, so very, very - um, hey - is his hand - “Logan - stop. Stop.” “Stop?” “Not that, the other thing you’re doing with your hand.” You know, the one you slid between my legs. I don’t think I’m really ready for touching in that region yet. It’s - it’s weird and it makes me feel nervous, not warm. “You feel good there, Marie. Soft. Hot.” “I - I don’t - I’m not - ” “OK.” And just like that, he stops. He’s always good about that. Well - pretty good. He usually tries to talk me around at least once, maybe twice. But if it’s no, then he stops. “You lemme know when. That’s a good spot for kissin’ too, ya know.” Oh my God, I don’t think I’ve ever blushed more in my life. “You might like that, darlin’.” “I think I’d like anything we did together.” Don’t give me the eyebrow. So weird to be looking *down* at him, but he’s still staying at breast-level. “I mean - I like doing things with you. Because it’s you. I mean I like you. I mean - God, I mean I’m kind of a babbling idiot and I probably sound really stupid and - ” “No, you don’t.” Intense look there. Really intense. “I like things we do together too.” Licking! He’s flicking out his tongue - his long, thick, *big* tongue, oh God - and licking me on each breast. First one, then the other. So, so good…….. “Whaddya wanna do now, baby?” “Give me your hand.” I’ve noticed that he really likes the hand-holding. But I’ve got something else in mind too. All this touching - I don’t want it to go only one-way. So - OK, one hand in mine, my fingers rubbing his knuckles, and one hand of mine free. I’ll just lay it on his chest. His amazingly muscled, strong, solid, warm chest. I’m going to be brave here, really brave. I’m not going to think about it, I’m just going to do it. Sliding my hand down to his tummy - which is also amazing - and to the waistband of his jeans. “Marie…..” Oh, yes, panting is a good sign. It’s a sign I’m not as clueless as I think I am. Or maybe I am, but he kind of likes what I’m doing anyway. Be brave. It’s just Logan. It’s just his body. Nothing to be afraid of. Just let your hand rub against him right *there*. “Unnnhhhh……” A few more rubs. Slow. Easy. Is it - is it growing? “Fuck, darlin’, don’t stop……” Um….it’s definitely growing. And getting firmer. Harder. Oh! He’s getting hard for me, hard from me touching him. Duh, Marie - you are a naïve - “More! Don’t stop!” “Logan?” Hello - putting his hand over mine to keep it there and guiding it a little - a little faster, a little rougher. This must be what he likes. This must be how he likes it. Look at him - he looks so lost in pleasure, so *soft* somehow, even though the rest of him is anything but. “Logan…..” “Baby - Marie - please - ” Maybe I should do it more like he’s guiding me, do it on my own. “Yes! Yes! Ah! Marie! Unnnnnnhhhhh!!!!” Was that? “Ummmmph……” I think it was. I think that was him, um, ‘reaching fulfillment’ as Jean used to say in sex-ed. “Fuck, Marie…..” “Are you OK?” Well he’s smiling like that was funny, but I don’t know what to say and do in this situation. I’ve never made a guy do that or been with a guy when he does that or whatever the correct terminology is. “Never mind.” Maybe I should just back off, let things cool down a bit before I say anything else virgin-stupid. “Hey - what?” “Nothing.” “Marie - what?” “I don’t know what I’m doing, do I? With this….stuff or anything else, with the Professor either. I don’t know what I’m doing.” “You’re doin’ pretty good.” Yeah, you have to say that if you want more of those. Even VirginMarie knows that. “Marie - what?” “I feel…..I feel stupid.” “What the hell for?” “For not knowing really what to do or say. For this whole Xavier thing. All of a sudden I realized that I - I’m in over my head here.” Serious look. Measuring look. “So am I.” He’s squeezing my hand and looking at me like that’s supposed to mean something but I can’t for the life of me figure out wh - oh. Oh. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you good.” “I know.” And just like that, I do know. I really know. It’s true. He really would put saving my ass over his own, he really is OK with not doing everything sexually and me not knowing how it all goes, he really is in love with me. Love. I think he’s in love with me. And, oh God, I think I’m falling in love with him. “Hey - don’t - don’t freak out like that, OK? I don’t like that. Just be…you know, Marie-ish.” Now he gets the eyebrow from me. “You know - talk. Sing in the shower. Steal my beers. Don’t get all upset ‘cause of a little glitch like kidnappin’ or Mags. Be you. Say whatcha think. Be Marie-ish.” You know, he really is an amazing person. He just hardly ever lets that part of him out. I don’t know why it’s me that brings it out in him, but I’m glad I get to see it. “That’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me, ever.” “Yeah?” He looks pleasantly surprised by that and he’s squeezing my hand again. I’m going to rub his knuckles a little back, so he knows. So he knows that I really would protect him from Mags, that I really will think about how things affect him before rushing headlong into them, that I really do like all of the sexual things that he knows how to do and tries to do with me, even though I say stop sometimes. I think he gets it. Judging by the look in his eyes, he gets it. “Well, I’m pretty smart for someone who ain’t Strategic Plannin’ Guy.” “Not going to let me live that one down, are you?” There’s the Marie-ish part. And there’s his smile again. “Nah, but I’ll letcha make it up to me.” What’s he - oh. More kissing. Mmm….very nice. |