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Title: Perspectives
Author:
Terri
E-mail:
xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
PG-13, swearing and butt-grabbing. But legal butt-grabbing.
Disclaimer:
I don't own any of them, except Moonbeam. Rats.
Archive:
WRFA, Dolphin Haven, Peep Hut - anyone else, please ask and I'll happily
provide :)
Feedback:
Please? With whipped cream on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome.
Summary:
Some different perspectives on Logan and Marie, and their own perspectives
on things.
Comments:
This is in response to Lateo's birthday bunny - darn all those February birthdays!
- that asked for a fic where a slightly edgier but still sweet Rogue came
to the school and described Logan as really sweet - leading everyone to be
surprised when the actual Logan shows up. The bunny asked for Rogue
to be a student, but in her early twenties, and I couldn't work that one
out, so I punted, making her a painter ;) Also, her edginess here comes
from having spent a great deal of her formative years not only with Logan
but with a fair dose of him in her head, and she manages to contain it pretty
well, keeping it mostly in her own thoughts ;) I hope Lateo likes it,
even though, as usual, it's not quite the bunny she intended ;)
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"It's an
honor to have you with us." She is certainly not what I expected.
Of course, the expectations I had were half-formed ideas based on what scant
information there is about her personal life. The mysterious Rogue
leaves much to the imagination of her public. Interesting that she
has disclosed that she is a mutant, though. That gives me some hope
of this being a very productive visit. I did, after all, invite her
here with a bit more in mind than a new mural for the school's great hall.
"Thank you
for inviting me, Professor Xavier. I've never done a project of this
nature before." Carefully friendly, yes, that's how I would describe
her. And young, very young-looking, although her art dealer said that
she was in her early twenties. I wonder if that is correct - she could
easily be mistaken for one of our students. Very graceful as well,
although I suspect that the nature of her mutation must have wrought a very
good awareness of how she moves in proximity to others. I wonder if
she paints with her gloves on. "It'll be a challenge."
"Yes, well,
as I mentioned to, ah, Moonbeam is it?" I wonder if that small smile
means that she regards her art dealer with a little amusement, much as I did
upon speaking with her. Such a character to be working in the serious
art world. "I mentioned to Ms. Charisma that I have purchased several
of your works and enjoyed them greatly. You have great talent, Ms.
Rogue."
"Thank you.
She did mention that. Did she tell you that my husband will be joining
me in a few days?"
"Yes.
We have prepared a guest suite for you both. I will look forward to
meeting him. Is he an artist as well?"
"No."
Again, that small smile. I admit, I am curious - with her severe mutation,
I was surprised to find that she had married. While certainly not impossible,
it must be very difficult to have intimate relations without endangering her
partner. Her husband must be a very sweet, caring man indeed.
"Can you show me to the room you'd like painted? I can spend some time
taking a look and then we can talk about supplies. How does that sound?"
Ah yes,
back to business. "Of course. This way."
"So who's
the new freak?"
"Jubilee,
that's inappropriate." Like just about everything else you do.
Honestly, I love all my students, all the kids, but Jubes just tries my patience
sometimes. "Her name is Rogue and she's painting a mural in the great
hall. She's an artist, a very good one, and the professor hired her."
"I heard
she was a mutie. Killer skin."
"That's right."
I used to think that I had the worst mutation - lethal, uncontrollable before
the visor Jean made for me. I revised that opinion after hearing about
Rogue's. It's a shame, especially for such a beautiful girl.
"But if you refrain from bothering her like I've asked you to, it shouldn't
be a problem."
"So, she's
just here to paint, you're not trying to recruit her to the team or to teach
us art or something?"
Actually,
both, but Jubilee couldn't keep a secret to save her life. "She's just
here to paint."
"I don't
*get* art anyway - I mean, the Prof. is probably spending a big honking chunk
of money on some picture for the walls. That money could go for practical
stuff."
"Art is
important. It adds to the quality of life, and that's practical."
I've always had a love of art and a fascination with artists. I think
it's part of why I fell so in love with Jean - in her own way, she's an artist,
all doctors are. Healing - that's an art of it's own. Rogue's
kind of art is every bit as practical, just not as obviously so.
"Not as
practical as a new pair of those really cute chunky-heel boots would be."
Patience, Scott, patience. The girl is only fifteen. No need
to strangle some sense into her while she still has a chance to grow out
of it. "Look at her dude, she's not even painting anything. She's
just staring at the walls with a brush in her hand."
"She's thinking
through what she wants to do before she starts doing it. That's a lesson
you might find beneficial, Jubilee."
"Hmph.
Well, whatever, I'm outta here, dude." At last. Maybe now I can
go say hello to Rogue without having to worry about Jubilee doing something
embarrassing. I should knock first. "Hello?"
"Oh - hello."
Bad timing. I clearly interrupted her train of thought there.
Off to a good start, Summers. "Come on in."
"I'm sorry,
I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. I'm Scott Summers, one
of the teachers here." Is handshaking proper? Her hands are bare
and so are mine, but maybe I should extend my hand anyway. Or would
that be -
"Rogue.
Nice to meet you. I'd shake, but, ah, it'd kill you." Very smooth,
very gracious. I would bet that she's had a lot of experience putting
people at ease about her mutation. "The Professor mentioned you."
"I hope
he said at least a few good things about me." A little humor never hurts.
And sometimes it gets a really good smile, like that one.
"All good
things. One of them was that you liked my work and were something of
an art buff yourself." Am I blushing? Oh God, I've got to stop
that. That's not very professional or impressive. Not that I'm
trying to impress her, but she's an esteemed artist and - "Any ideas for
this space? The Professor's given me no restraints but that also means
no guidance for what he'd like. You know the school and Professor Xavier
pretty well - what do you think he'd like in here?"
"Um, I'm
sure whatever you do would make him happy. He's a big fan of your work."
That wasn't the answer she was looking for. But I'm no 'art buff' -
I don't know that much about art history or anything. She probably
knows more than I ever will. I don't want to say something and look
like an idiot. Then again, maybe I've already accomplished that, what
with the blushing and the not answering her question. Good one, Summers.
You might as well have brought Jubilee. At least she'd be a distraction
from your own idiocy. "You know, I bet anything touching on the things
most important to him - education, the children, mutant rights - anything
with those themes would be great."
"Thanks."
That's better. "It's harder, sometimes, to start with a blank slate,
you know?"
"Yeah.
I'm just going to head back to class now." Where I actually know what
I'm doing. "If you need anything, feel free to grab me - I'm usually
around."
"Thanks,
Scott. Nice meeting you."
"Same here."
Whew. There's something about her that's a little nerve-wracking up
close. Not the mutation - maybe it's just that I really admire her
talent so much or that she's so - so - I don't know - she has quite a presence
in person. Whatever it is, I've got to get a grip. I don't want
her to think we're a school full of blithering idiots. That wouldn't
be conducive to getting her on the team, not at all.
So - education,
children, mutant rights. At least that's a starting point. Better
than nothing. OK, so let's think. What among those jumps out
at me? Not education - Lord knows I've never been especially fond of
it. Children - well, I hope Logan and I will have some one day, but
I've never really liked other people's children. I'm not the school
teacher or nanny type, that's for sure. Mutant rights. That could
be something. I know they passed the amendment to the bill of rights
and all, but it's still not exactly a mutie-friendly world, and that does
push my buttons. But where to go with that for a mural at a school?
You know,
maybe I shouldn't have taken on this project. The challenge of doing
something new was interesting, and the money was *very* good, but it's going
to take some time and a lot of effort. Well, I guess I'll just focus
on the money. It'll mean that we'll be set for a good long while and
that Logan can stop fighting. I've got to work on a way to convince
him to get out of that for good. I hate seeing him get hurt, and even
if it is good money -
KNOCK
Sheesh.
Another interruption. Well, smile and put on the happy face, Rogue.
You're getting paid to do a job and you might as well be nice to the natives.
God, Logan's grumpiness really is rubbing off on me, isn't it? "Yes?"
"Hello,
I'm Doctor Jean Grey. I just wanted to drop by and say hello."
"Hello, Doctor."
Somehow, I get the impression that she's not the kind of person who would
take well to being addressed by her first name by a new acquaintance.
"Nice to meet you."
"I noticed
my fiancée, Scott, in here a moment ago." Aha. Checking
up on the fiancée and marking her territory - not a sign of a healthy
relationship, but then again, to each their own.
"Yes, he
stopped by to introduce himself. I think he said he was on his way
to class."
"Really?"
You know, I don't know what it is, but women always do this. I'm not
that pretty - well, not to anyone but Logan - and I have a lethal mutation
that prevents skin-to-skin touching, so I don't get why women always seem
to see me as some kind of threat. Besides, it's not like I'm looking.
I'm more than happy with my husband, thank you very much. Don't I send
out those 'I'm happily married and also very dangerous' vibes or something?
I've got to work on that. "Oh. Well, I know he admires your paintings.
I'm glad he got to meet you." Yeah, yeah, I get it - you want to convey
that you are secure enough in your relationship to compliment a potential
rival. Uh-huh. That won't work real well on someone who can smell
your insecurity. Moving on. "I'm sure the mural will be wonderful."
"Well, we'll
see. I'm still figuring it out a bit." Maybe it's because she's
obviously older than him that she's got a little anxiety going. I should
try not to be offended or anything. She doesn't know that I can smell
her jealousy. I should just try to be nice. Sisterhood, and all.
But I hate it when women just assume that other women are after their man,
that we're all scheming, conniving bitches out to steal their man away from
them, like that's the most important thing in the world. She really
should know better - she's an educated woman, a doctor. Not very feminist
of you to react that way, Dr. Grey.
"How long
do you think the mural will take?" Translation - how long am I going
to have to worry about you being around my fiancée, and could you
hurry your ass up?
"It's hard
to tell. I've never done a project like this before. The Professor
has been very generous - he's offered to let me and my husband stay until
it's finished, however long it takes." There. Maybe the big,
obvious mention of my HUSBAND will make her feel better. Logan was
right - enhanced senses, the ability to tell what people are really feeling
about you - it can suck sometimes. I'd rather not know all the time.
"Oh, Charles
is a very generous man." Yes, you know him well enough to call him 'Charles,'
you're his favorite and much more meaningful to him than some artist whose
paintings he buys. Yes, I get that. Sheesh, she's annoying.
Does this really work on anyone? I mean, it's fairly obvious, even
without my senses. "I'm sure you'll both enjoy your stay."
"Thanks."
"I'll leave
you to it, then." Please do. "Nice meeting you." Buh-bye.
Back to the mural.
Fancy place.
Shoulda figured it'd be pretty nice after hearin' what they're payin' Marie
to paint a coupla their walls. Well, that's her money. I made
enough for us from the fights to set us up nice for a while. Was worth
stayin' up there for the couple extra days even if it did mean sendin' Marie
down here by herself. Never like to do that, but the money was too
good on both ends to pass up. Wonder if she made some headway with
the paintin'. She said it might take her a few weeks or even a month.
I know she said the guy who owns the place set up a spot for us, but I'd
really rather stay in the camper if we're gonna be here a while. Don't
like bein' around strange people.
"Yes, may
I help you?" Cute kid. Guess she must be one of the students.
Smells a little scared of me but hey, that's par for the course. I
ain't a friendly guy.
"Yeah, I'm
lookin' for Rogue."
"Rogue?"
"Yeah, Rogue
the painter." She'd better damn well be here. 'Cause if somethin'
happened and she didn't make it here, I'm gonna lose it and this school is
gonna have a claw-mark mural in it's front lobby. "She's here, right?"
"Um"
Reachin' for the phone to call somebody. Maybe she dunno nothin' 'bout
the paintin' thing. Marie just better fuckin' be here and in one piece.
"Professor? There's someone here to see Rogue. I - I think you
should, um, send someone out here. Now." Scared, definitely.
"Um, someone will be right with you."
"Look, I
don't bite. Is Rogue here or not?"
"All - all
guests have to, um, register. Would you sign the book, please?"
OK, I know she's freakin' out 'cause I must look kinda rough - no shavin'
for days, all dressed in denim and leather, and then there's the general
bad-ass look I have normally. But I'm at the end of my patience here.
"I'll sign
the damn book once you answer my question - is Rogue here or not?"
"Hello, I
am Charles Xavier. May I help you?" They sent a guy in a wheelchair
out to deal with me? "You were looking for Rogue, I believe?"
"Yeah.
Is she here?"
"Who may
I ask is inquiring?" Polite fuckin' people. God, how I hate 'em.
"Her husband
is inquirin', and he's also the one who's about to trash this place if he
don't get an answer - now where the hell is she?"
"Her husband?"
Yeah, yeah, I know - I ain't who ya probably pictured hookin' up with her,
but get over it. "I shall have her, ah, summoned to the foyer.
Please have a seat."
"So she's
here then?" One simple answer to one simple fuckin' question shouldn't
be this hard to get.
"Yes.
Kitty, please call the great hall phone. Ask Ms. Rogue to come here."
I guess Wheels don't wanna leave me alone with a defenseless kid. Wait
- what'd he say his name was? Xavier? That's the guy who hired
Marie, I think. Aw, shit, I'm pissin' off her boss. "May I get
you anything? A drink?"
"Uh, no.
Sorry - sorry 'bout that. I just get a little shitty when people don't
answer the question, you know? No offense." This is why I like
my line of work better than hers. I don't hafta be nice to anyone.
Let alone dealin' with some new-age nutjob of a dealer on a regular basis.
It's enough of a strain not to claw Moonbeam Whatsherface.
"Logan!"
Whew - there's my girl. Comin' over to hug me. Hell, yeah, baby,
it's been too long. "You're early!"
"Drove all
night. Missed ya." Heh - old baldie's checkin' out my hand on
her ass. Hey, she's my wife, I've got legal rights to that particular
booty, so I can grab a hold of it if I wanna. Loosen up, Wheels.
"Done paintin' yet?" 'Cause I don't like it here already.
"No, I've
just barely started. But I'm so glad you're here. Maybe you can
help me out a little." She always gets me to 'help' - mostly it's just
sittin' and watchin' her do the paintin'. Sometimes I get a brush or
mix somethin' for her. I think she just likes havin' me around.
No complaints. "How did the fights go?"
"Good.
I won."
"Ah, so
you are a boxer, then?" Right, her boss.
"No."
I don't really like explainin' myself, and Marie's givin' me the 'sorry' look
for slippin' up and talkin' 'bout it in fronta this guy, so let's just leave
it. "Let's see whatcha got so far, darlin'. Nice - uh, nice to
meetcha, Professor." Maybe that'll help make up for bein' kinda pissy
to him. I don't want him to upset Marie by firin' her or somethin'.
"Likewise."
Yeah, right. Think I can't smell ya? "Welcome to Xavier's School
for the Gifted. I'm sure Rogue will fill you in and show you around.
Good evening." So long, baldie.
"So, you
gonna show me around?" Just in case she didn't catch my tone, I'll
give her a little squeeze to that legally-mine booty.
"Logan.."
Blushin'. God, screw the paintin', where's her bed?
"And he's
totally hairy! Kitty said she could see his all this dark, nasty chest
hair peeking out over his collar and his head hair was all wild and pointy
and he looked like he hadn't shaved in *months*! I mean, who likes
hairy guys? None of the cute boys on TV have all that hair - as if!
And he just came from some kind of fight, and Kitty said he smelled like
smoke and beer - although how does she know what beer smells like?
She's such a goody-goody all the time that - "
"Good morning,
Jubilation. Am I interrupting?" Whew. Storm. She's moderately
cool so she probably won't bust us for gossiping over breakfast.
"I was just
telling Bobby about the mysterious Ms. Rogue's husband. He's a total
caveman! Kitty was here when he came in."
"A caveman?"
"You know,
all buff and burly, knuckles dragging along the ground - Kitty said that
he was grabbing Ms. Rogue's - uh - butt, her butt, right in front of everybody!"
I have *got* to learn to do that one eyebrow raising thing that she does.
It's cool. "And then I heard from St. John, who's three doors down,
that he, like, totally could hear them having sex all night long."
"Jubilation,
it is not wise to - "
"I know,
I know, Ms. Munroe, but come on, something's going on there! She's,
like, supposed to be this really cool artist and all and have killer skin,
but she shows up with some animal for a husband and then goes at it all night?
Something's definitely up with that, dude, don't you think?"
"It is none
of our business."
"Maybe she'll
paint a porno mural in the great hall." Heh - that was actually moderately
funny from the Bobster. Maybe he's developing, like, a personality
after all.
"You'd like
that, wouldn't you?"
"Children"
Aw, I guess that's it for the gossip. I know that tone. Well,
that's all until Ms. Munroe leaves the table.
"Hey."
Another freakin' mutie, I can tell by the glasses. This place is just
crawlin' with 'em, ain't it? Marie said to try to be polite, so I guess
I should say somethin' back.
"Hey."
"I'm Scott
Summers. I heard that you're Rogue's husband." What, now I gotta
shake hands? Dammit, all I wanted was to grab somethin' outta the fridge
and get back to my wife. Now I gotta talk to this guy.
"Yeah.
Logan." There. Shake. Now leave me alone.
"It's, ah,
a pleasure to meet you. We're all very happy to have Rogue painting
the great hall. She's really a very talented artist." Oh no.
No way. I can't be smellin' what I think I'm smellin'. This little
weenus has some kinda thing for Marie. When he talks about her like
that, I can smell it on him - just a hint, but it's there. Fucker.
"We're all looking forward to seeing what the mural looks like. I'm
sure it will be just wonderful. She's very talented." You said
that once already, dickhead.
"Yeah, my
wife's damn talented." Maybe that little four-letter 'w' word will
remind him he ain't got a chance in hell.
"Yes.
Well, I have to admit, I was a little surprised to meet you after meeting
Rogue. You're a little different than she described you." Doubt
it. I'd be surprised if she said anythin' 'bout me at all, besides
that I was her husband. "She said you had very refined sensibilities
and a great appreciation of art." Oh yeah, that. She usually
does say I like her art. The sensibility thing is a little play on
my - our - enhanced senses. He musta been fishin' for somethin', though,
'cause she' wouldn't volunteer anythin'. Pisses me off - what's he
doin' fishin' for information on her husband, huh?
"I like
her art. Don't much care for anythin' else in that area." My
turn to ask some questions and do some diggin'. "You spend some time
with her, then?" Yeah, I know that came out in a bad-ass growl.
I meant for it to. Don't look so surprised.
"Oh, she
was nice enough to indulge a few of my questions about her work, that's all."
That better be all. I know Marie - she wouldn't cheat on me, no way,
no how. But that don't mean this jerk wouldn't try to make a move.
"How long - how long have you two been married?"
"Few years."
He don't learn. Here he goes fishin' for more information when he shoulda
seen how pissed I already am. Well, he don't need to know the whole
story - and I bet he's the kinda guy who'd especially have a stick up his
ass about me marryin' Marie when she was only sixteen. Bet he'd get
his panties all in a twist at that. Shit, it was legal in the province
that we got married in, so nobody should give a shit. Prude.
Besides, we didn't really do nothin' until she was almost eighteen.
I'm not an asshole. It was for her own good, so she wouldn't wind up
in a foster home or somethin', bein' a kid all on her own. It was to
make sure that she'd stay with me that we did got hitched when she was sixteen.
"Hey - you married?"
"Well, I'm
engaged."
"Then stay
away from my wife and stick with yours, huh?" That and the way I slammed
the refrigerator door oughta scare him off. If he's got any sense,
he'll steer clear of Marie now.
"I know
he seems a little rough around the edges, Scott, but Rogue does appear to
be happy with him."
"Maybe she's
afraid of him, maybe he's abusive. He was certainly overly jealous in
the kitchen - that kind of possessiveness can't be good for her."
Honestly.
I've had enough. It's been 'Rogue this' and 'Rogue that' ever since
she got here. "It's her choice, honey. I'm sure they're fine."
"But what
if she needs help or what if - "
"Scott -
" Maybe my all-business tone will clue him in here. Who wants
to talk about another woman with your fiancée? "It's not our
concern. And why are you so involved with her anyway? You don't
really know anything about her."
"Well, it's
just that she seems like such a nice person and - "
"Nice?
Let me tell you something, Scott, people like her, artists - they're not nice.
They're usually an emotional train-wreck. Obviously, she's got some
issues that she's acting out with this guy. Maybe it's a father-figure
thing, who knows? And she won't tell anyone much about herself or give
out her real name - what does that tell you? I'll tell you what it
tells you - issues. She's got issues. I know you might feel sorry
for the poor thing, but you don't want to get yourself involved in her little
emotional dramas, Scott. Trust me. I've got much more experience
in relationships and dealing with people than you do."
What?
Why is he giving me that look? "That's not a very compassionate attitude."
"It's a
very compassionate attitude, it's just simply not overly indulgent, Scott.
I have all the compassion in the world for her, I really do. But I'm
not going to bend over backwards to accommodate whatever little games she
likes to play. Look - she married this guy, she's with him now, and
that's her choice. She's a big girl, and she knows how to take care
of herself, I'm sure. She certainly has the means to do so with what
she must make from her paintings." It's not like she's helpless.
She just wants attention - I mean, why else would she bring a husband like
that here in the first place?
"You don't
like her."
"What?"
"You don't
like her for some reason."
"I like
her just fine. I'm just not fawning all over her like she's Picasso
like all the rest of you are doing."
"What's
wrong? Are you - are you jealous?"
Jealous!
Of that little girl? How ridiculous. "No, of course not."
Even if Scott wanted to cheat on me with her, he couldn't because of her
skin. Does he think I don't realize that? Of course I'm not jealous.
"Then what's
wrong? Why don't you like her?"
"Let's just
go to bed, Scott." There's no more productive conversation to be had
here. Scott's just not listening. That kind of immaturity is
just one of the hazards of getting involved with a younger man. He'll
think differently in the morning, he will. We just have to sleep on
it.
"So, what
do you think?" It's - it is truly amazing. In excess of my expectations,
certainly, but beyond even my best hopes as well. It is an amazing
mural. Typical of her style - impressionistic and very colorful, but
also a bit different than anything I have seen of hers before. The
figures she chose - not leaders of the mutant rights movement, but variety
of ordinary mutants engaging in everyday tasks - are very moving. The
section with the normal-looking mother gazing lovingly into her green, scaly
son's yellow eyes as she prepares his lunch is especially touching.
Very effective, the different scenes of ordinary interaction with mutants.
"I am overwhelmed.
You have done a marvelous job. Thank you very much." There is
only one problem. "I did not expect you to be finished so soon - you
have only been here, what? Ten days."
"I got inspired."
And I can guess from the look she is exchanging with her husband that he
is the source of her inspiration, although I do not think I will ever quite
understand that dynamic. They are indeed an odd couple.
"Yes, well,
I was hoping to speak with you both about a few other matters." I am
almost certain that Logan is a mutant as well - perhaps with some natural
immunity to her skin if the hallway gossip about their nightly activities
is to be believed. "As you know, we run a school here, and, as some
people are aware, the X-Men have their home base at this institution."
"I think
I know where you're goin' with that, Professor, and I can tell ya - Rogue
ain't interested." Now, I do not feel as strongly as Scott does about
the dynamic of these two; neither is projecting any distress and both, in
fact, tend to project quite a bit of affection for the other party.
However, Logan's attitude at the moment is making me reconsider those assessments
a bit.
"Perhaps
Rogue would like to answer for herself."
"If what
you're getting at is - would I want to be an X-Man or join the school? -
well, I'm flattered, but Logan is right. The answer's no." Hmmm.
I wonder if perhaps she is simply saying that to appease him.
"Please think
about it. Even if - even if you do not wish to fight mutant terrorists
as an X-Man, which is perfectly understandable, we would consider it a great
honor to have an art instructor of your caliber on staff. Think of
all the students, all the young minds you could reach."
"Thank you
for the offer, Professor, but teaching isn't my strong suit. I never
even finished high school. I don't think I'd be good at it."
And I doubt I'd hear anything different from her with Logan pulling her to
him so possessively at the moment. Seemingly, what he says, goes.
Ah, well, perhaps at another time. At least we have a wonderful new
mural out of all this.
"Thank you,
Rogue, for gracing us with your mural. You are welcome back anytime,
should you change your mind about the teaching offer." Though I doubt
that will happen as long as she remains married to her current husband.
Love - it is a complication at times.
Oh-oh.
That's the yellow-clothed, annoying one. God, was I ever fifteen?
And if I was, could I have possibly been this obnoxious? "Hey, chica.
Don't tell me you're vacating already - is the big picture done?"
"Yes, it
is. I'm just getting together the last of my things."
"So, what
did you call it?"
"Perspectives."
And not 'Perspectives on a Mall' so you may not be interested. Oh,
I shouldn't be like that. She's just a kid, and she's had it pretty
good all her life. She *should* enjoy shoes and shopping and stuff.
I shouldn't be all bitchy just because I didn't get to be a kid like that.
"Cool.
Where's your love-muffin?"
"You mean
my husband?" Love-muffin - I'm going to have to tell Logan that one.
That's a good one. Heh. Love-muffin.
"Yeah, tall,
hairy guy. Hates Mr. Summers. Makes you yell his name every night
loud enough to be heard in the next county. That guy."
I should
be embarrassed, but, hey, we have a good sex life. I'm not ashamed of
that. In fact, I'm grateful - I mean, we've suffered enough for it.
Logan had to die and give me his powers for us to be able to touch.
Thank God he came back and thank God he's well enough to make me scream his
name every night. But, you know, she's just a kid - she doesn't really
understand all that yet. "He's bringing our camper around."
"You, like,
live in a camper? How white trash!" Ah yes, now I remember why
she's not just innocently annoying. There's that complete lack of tact
too.
"Well, it's
ours, you know, and maybe one day when you have to support yourself you'll
understand that not everyone lives in a fancy mansion." I don't mean
to go all bitchy on the kid, but that was rude.
"Hey, no
offense, chica - I meant, uh, white trash in a good way."
"Sure."
And here's Logan so we can just let it drop. I wonder if I'd have come
here instead of trying to get to Alaska - I wonder if I'd have turned out
like her. Kind of makes everything that happened on the road seem not
so bad if you think about it that way. And besides, I wouldn't have
met Logan if I'd come here, and I wouldn't trade him for anything.
"Look, I've
got total foot-in-the-mouth-itis. Just ignore me. I wanted to
- I wanted to catch you before you went just to say, you know - I think you're
cool." Oh, yes, well, her coolness approval does mean the world to
me. Oh, wait. She's serious. Shit. "I never liked
art, you know, but it was fun to watch you paint."
"Try it
- it is a lot of fun and art doesn't have to be stuffy. It can be whatever
you want it to be."
"Thanks."
Maybe she's not so bad. Maybe she's just a nice, normal -
"Oooh!
Chica - don't look now, but here comes Mr. Summers. He's totally crushing
on you. I say you should give him a go. He's a hottie."
Or not.
"I'm married, Jubilee."
"Yeah, but
- "
"Hello,
Scott." I think it's best to shut Jubilee up at this point. "Thanks
for everything. It was nice meeting you."
"Rogue -
are you - are you sure that you're OK? I mean, I, uh, if you ever want
to talk about anything, I'm here."
I know what
he thinks. It's what a lot of people think when they see me and Logan
together. I'm just some clueless kid in a relationship with a much older
guy who's taking advantage of my naivete and who's running the show.
They don't really know us, so I don't usually let it bother me, but for some
reason this *is* bothering me. Weird. Still, Scott means well.
And he's got a hell-bitch for a fiancée, so I'll take it easy on him.
"Thanks. Good luck on your wedding to Jean." And I mean good
luck, buddy. "I've got to get going. Logan's here."
"Well, goodbye
then. It was a privilege to meet you. Goodbye. And remember
what I said - call anytime."
I'll remember.
But I won't need to call. "Bye."
"So you
didn't like him? 'Cause, yeah, he's kinda dorky, but some people might
go for that good- lookin', clean cut thing." Just checkin'. She's
good 'bout tellin' me things, and she picked up on the fact that I was a
little curious 'bout Summers so she made sure to tell me she didn't like
him too much. But I could see it, you know - her goin' for someone
closer to her own age, some one with a mutation kinda like her skin, someone
who knows somethin' 'bout art, 'bout what she does for a livin'.
"Nope.
I don't think I'll ever really like anybody else - not that way, not romantically.
That's why I'm married to you. I just like you that way." Aw.
She really means that, you can tell. And I believe it - after what
all she was put through livin' on the road, she don't trust people too easy.
And you gotta trust someone to wanna be with 'em like that. I proved
I can be trusted, not just when I saved her life, but by bein' good to her,
by never screwin' her over or pushin' her to do things even though I maybe
coulda. I think she respects that. "You, um, were kind of checking
out his fiancee, though. Anything there?"
"Nah.
You know me - I usedta like redheads, but now I got a brunette that beats
'em all hands down." I gotta watch that. Me lookin' at women
- it's some kinda reflex. It don't mean nothin'. It's just a
look. I don't wanna make Marie uncomfortable, and I think she kinda
knows that's all it is, but I gotta curb that tendency. I wouldn't
like it if she glanced at some guy's body even if it was nothin' at bottom.
"Good." Oh-oh.
She said 'good' but somethin' else is in there, I can tell. "Logan,
do you ever wonder what people think, you know, when they see us together?"
"Not really.
Don't much care."
"Do you
think people ever wonder what you're doing with me?"
"Yeah, probably
all the time. They look at you and think - nice person, talented, smart,
good-lookin'. Then they look at me and think - dumb, vicious animal.
I bet lotsa people wonder what I'm doin' with ya." I know how people
see me. Like I said, I don't much care. Sometimes it even works
to my advantage if -
"No, no,
no - I mean - don't you think people wonder why you would pick me?
Especially when you first picked me up. I was so young and so - so
naïve. You couldn't touch me then, and Sabretooth was chasing
me. It was before all the mutant stuff got sorted out and I was as
obvious a mutant as you could find. Do you think that people wondered
why you were with me when I was so difficult, so much trouble?"
"No."
"No?
Why not?"
"Cause anybody
can see you'd be worth the trouble." Even a dumb animal like me.
"Nobody ever thought I was gettin' the bad end of this deal, darlin'.
They probably saw us then and thought you were gettin' screwed, literally
and figuratively, by a bad-ass mother fucker, namely me. They probably
see us now and think you're stuck with some jerk who doesn't know shit about
art and doesn't appreciate you. What do we care what people think?"
She's thinkin'
that over a minute before she'll answer. I can tell a deep talk is
headed my way. That's actually one of the things I like 'bout her.
She's the only person who's ever attempted deep conversation with me - hell,
she just always assumed I'm interested in talkin' and not outta my depth
talkin' 'bout serious stuff. She's definitely the only person who's
done that. "I do care what people think, a little. And I'll tell
you why - because people treat you according to how they see you. The
perceptions that they have about us influence their attitude and behavior
toward us. We should care what they think at the very least in order
to be able to predict how they will respond to us, to be able to predict
what kind of behavior they'll engage in toward us."
"Darlin',
I can tell ya that right now. Predictin' that ain't so hard.
People are scared of me and they like you."
"That's not
always true. Sometimes they're afraid of me too, of my skin.
Not everybody likes me. And lots of people like you. Women, especially."
She's teasin'
a little there but I got somethin' serious to say 'bout that. "Women
want me. That's different. Men - they want you but they like
you too. You're not the kinda woman you just screw; you're the kinda woman
you hang on to. Me, I'm the kinda guy you screw - every woman I've
ever met has expressed exactly no interest in havin' me hang around after
they got what they wanted outta me. There's a difference between 'like'
and 'want' and, darlin', nobody likes me."
"They're
really stupid then because I can't imagine not wanting to hang on to you."
This happens sometimes - she gets sad when we talk 'bout honest stuff, true
stuff. I get it - it's emotional - but I still hate seein' her sad.
"Exactly."
I've learned to just not argue when Marie says nice things 'bout me like that.
She always wins those arguments and havin' 'em just leads to more Marie-sadness,
so I avoid it altogether now. And you know, it's actually easy, sometimes,
to believe nice things lookin' into those big brown eyes. "So why care
about what stupid people think?" There she goes - gettin' a grip on
the emotions, preparin' to answer the question.
"I guess
I just want everyone to think well of us, but that's not going to be possible,
I know that rationally. I guess I want people to see us like I do,
I want people to see things how they really are, not filtered through their
own perceptions of us. Those perceptions - they're entirely skewed by
their own experiences, their own prejudices and biases and hopes and fears.
Those perceptions have so little to do with the actual truth sometimes.
I want people to see things how they really, honestly are, not how they're
projecting them to be."
"Hmm."
Good point. But you can't make people do that. "Maybe it's like
your paintin'."
"Like my
painting?"
"Yeah.
All those different people you painted - they all see themselves one way or
another. A mom don't see her kid as some ugly mutie, she loves it.
A teacher don't see her kids as a buncha freaks, she sees 'em as just a class
fulla little troublemakers, just like any other kids. Other people
lookin' at 'em from the outside in - well, some of 'em will see what those
people see, but some of 'em will look at those same kids and go - damn ugly
muties. That perception ain't the truth, not by a long shot, but the
person who sees it that way is gonna have a hard time seein' it any other
way. To them, they got the truth in their view. I don't think
anybody knows what the true, actual truth is, you know? But some people
get closer than others and the people who aren't close to it at all, well,
they're the ones who're sufferin', the ones who can't see what's right in
fronta their faces. Sure, a lotta times, they make life hell for other
people 'cause they're all wrongheaded. But carin' what they think -
well, to me, that's just kinda pointless. It's a lotta work to change
somebody's mind, even if you can do that. I'm happier to spend my time
not givin' a shit, and goin' on my merry way."
"Hmmm.
But if everybody did that, then we wouldn't have an amendment protecting mutant
rights. A lot of people spent their time, money, and blood to change
people's minds. If they hadn't, nothing would ever change or get better."
"I don't
disagree with ya there. And to be honest, I have a lotta respect for
people who wanna take that on. But, darlin', I ain't one of 'em.
I'm not a save-the-world kinda guy. Basically, I care about me and
mine. That's it. If I hafta deal with other people or do somethin'
to protect what I got, well, I will. But otherwise, fuck it.
I'm usin' all my time and energy on takin' care of you and me. I'm
consumed with it. I wanna put everythin' I got towards that.
Other people and what they think - unless it interferes with that, I don't
wanna spend any time on it." I wonder what she thinks 'bout all that.
We can always be real honest, right down to brass tacks, with one another,
but that's kinda selfish to say, to think that way. Marie's a pretty
unselfish person. I don't think she thinks the same way I do 'bout this.
"Can I tell
you something? I kind of like that you think that way." Whoa.
Wasn't expectin' that. "I don't think I totally agree - I mean, I kind
of think you ignore the outside world at your peril, and that your obligations
go beyond your immediate family to your community, your country, all that
- but I do agree with making the people closest to you the highest priority.
I think we should come first with each other and most of our time and energy
should be spent there." Hmm. Interestin'. She always manages
to surprise me somehow durin' these talks. That's kinda sexy, you know.
"I guess you're right about what people think of us. That's not important
enough to worry about or put effort into changing. I guess we'll just
live with people sometimes having the wrong ideas about us."
"Guess you're
right." Enough talkin' for now, at least 'bout this. Just one
more thing. "You know, I do know that you don't see me like everybody
else. Don't think that I get hurt or upset if other people think bad
on me. I know you don't, and that's the important thing. Even
if everybody back at that mansion thinks I'm an asshole, I don't really care
as long as you don't think that too."
"Good.
I'm still working on my end of that." I know. I can tell that
she does buy inta what people see her as sometimes. It's still easier
for her to believe the bad shit about her than the good. A hundred
people could tell her she's got talent - it's the one that craps all over
her work that sticks with her, it's that one she counts the most. It's
fucked up, and I think she knows that. It's just a matter of workin'
it out, and she's at a disadvantage there. It was easier for me to
work out 'cause I had her tellin' me the good things. She does a damn
good job of that. Marie, she's only pretty much got me and Moonbeam
and we both do kinda a half-assed job of it. Things don't always come
out right and I don't always catch when she needs some reassurance.
That's what I gotta work on. "But you know, maybe we should table the
talk for now. We're coming up on a town and I'm hungry for dinner.
We've got tons of money, so I say we find the best restaurant in town and
get the biggest steaks they have. What do you think?"
"I like
how you think, darlin'. We got the same perspective on that."
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