Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Comments: This is the product of an especially vicious plot bunny that was fed and nurtured by Tiffany. It's a take on the movie Pretty Woman with Julia Roberts, only with Marie filling those shoes (or thigh-high hooker boots, as the case may be) and Hank in Richard Gere's role. And with the plot completely different ;) Hey, since when can I stick to the bunny 100% ;) This was supposed to be a quick little fooflet, but, as is usual lately, it wound up clocking in at about 30 pages. Sigh. Where did my ability to write something *short* go?

I think that one, the one with the white streaks in her hair. She looks like she's not too hard, not too jaded. She probably hasn't been doing this for too long yet. Heck, she looks pretty young, maybe she's only been doing this a little while. Plus, she's got kind of a kind look about her, kind of a niceness. Yeah, right, Bobby, nice hookers. Sure. That's exactly how the real world works - it's just chock full of nice hookers. Sheesh. Just go up to her and ask already before that transvestite propositions you again.

"See those two girls at the corner, down there? Those are undercover cops. Keep it down, sugar." Cops? Undercover hooker cops? Oh my God I could get arrested! Scott would kill me! Scott would kill me! And then Jean would fix me all up and the Professor would kill me again! "Let's go for a walk." Yes, yes, a walk. A walk in the opposite direction of the hooker cops. Yes, let's do that. "You ever hired a girl before, sugar?"

"A thirty year old virgin? What's wrong with him?" I know she's joking a little but I think I was right to bring Hank's picture along. Better to have her freak out and call me names on the street in front of the hooker cops and transvestites than to have her freak out and insult Hank in front of his friends and students.

Oh. Oh. I really haven't thought this through very well, have I? On the other hand, if I asked him, I'd have really spoiled the surprise. There's no casual way to just go - hey, Hank, what do you think about anal sex? Think you might like it? Well, I guess I'm just going to have to decide for him. "What do you do?"

"Uh, right. Well, yes - yes, he'd like both of those. Definitely the sex. He really needs to be, uh, devirginized. He's a little embarrassed. Oh - and I should mention that it's a surprise. He'll be *very* surprised and, well - remember how I said he was an all-around great guy? You might have to do a little convincing. He's shy plus honorable."

"Please, you must go. I do not know what Bobby told you, but - but you must go." I wonder if he lives down here too - I bet he does. I think that's a bed I see back there, behind that half-open door. Poor thing. Living in the basement of the mutie warehouse, spending all his time down here. "Please, ma'am - "

"You can call me Rogue, sugar, and Bobby's already paid for a whole night for you. You wouldn't want all his money to go to waste, would you? Why don't we just sit down and talk a little first, OK?" Maybe that'll help. Sometimes they like to talk first. Being a virgin and all, I bet he'd like to talk first.

"I'm eighteen, no worries. And my 'profession' is the oldest one there is, sugar. It's not going anywhere, whether you help to perpetuate it or not. Now, why don't you come over here and sit down beside me?" We could do it on the couch if he likes or at least begin here. It's kind of an institutional couch, isn't it? Not very comfortable, but I've had worse.

"Sugar - " Maybe if I just take his hand. Oh my lord, he jumped like a scared cat. Well, I'm not letting go of his hand. Maybe that'll show him I'm not worried about the fur or how he looks. "You can do whatever you want. Your friend, Bobby, he confided in me that - well, that this would be your first time. I can make it real nice for you if you'd like. Wouldn't you like that? Is there something you don't like about me?"

Hmmm. Now there's one I haven't heard before. You know, except from the 'spank-me-mommy-I've-been-bad' types. "Hank - can I call you Hank?" A nod. Good. Promising. "Hank, I'm flattered and impressed that you'd turn down sex on moral grounds. But, sugar, let me tell you something. Sometimes things aren't exactly square with the moral high road, but doing them won't make the earth spin off its axis. The question here, sugar, is would you like sex with me? I've been hired to have sex with you and that's OK with me."

"Surely you must be daunted by my appearance." Ah, I get it - it's not just the moral thing, although I think the sweet guy probably is serious about that. He's worried that I'll make fun of him or be disgusted or something because of how he looks. I bet that's it, or at least a big part of it.

"You're unique, that's for sure. Your fur - at least here, on your hands - feels nice and soft. And those ears have got to be a girl-magnet, sugar, all nice and cute and pointy." Hmm. He's not quite buying it. "Can I tell you a secret? Would you keep it to yourself if I told you something private?"

"I'm a mutant too. It's my skin. Used to be that I couldn't touch another person's bare skin without sucking the life out of them and killing them." There go those cute ears, perking right up. "Luckily for a girl in my line of work, I learned to control it." And got a head full of Sabretooth and Mystique in the process, but that's a whole other story, and one this nice, sweet thirty-year-old virgin doesn't need to hear. "I understand about being different, about feeling a little like an outcast."

"I'd really rather stay here for the night." His pants are still doing a good imitation of a pitched tent, so I know there's some interest there. You know what? Maybe this whole talking thing was a bad idea. Since when did men and talking go together? Time for some action. That's my forte. That's what I'm good at. Lord knows this guy is about a thousand times smarter than high school dropout me. Yeah, no more talking.

"Hank, here's what I'd like to do. I'm going to make you come this way first." I don't usually do hand jobs and there's not much demand for them - most men prefer blow jobs. But he's not going to last too long as it is. "And then we'll talk some more and I'll take off my clothes. You can touch me anywhere you want. Don't worry about the skin, I've got it under control. You can touch me and then we'll do some more things together. You let me know what you like."

"That was nice, sugar." And look at how he's looking at me - so uncertain, so nervous. He probably wants to give me a hundred reasons why he shouldn't but his body is screaming out that he needs to. Thirty years without sex - that's long enough. "I'm just going to get undressed now. We won't be interrupted down here, will we?"

"Thank you, sugar. Would you like to touch me?" Maybe I could just get a little closer. His eyes haven't left my breasts and it might be nice for him to take off my skirt and stockings. He might like that. There - he's going to. He's going to touch me. "Mmmm." I'm sure he'd like some encouragement and it does feel nice. He's being so gentle. And looking up at me with those clear yellow eyes. He looks almost afraid to be touching me. "That feels nice." Hey - wait a second - he just took his hand away like it was on fire. What'd I do wrong?

"It's OK if you want to, Hank. I know what you said about you not liking to support prostitution and this being all wrong, and sugar, I understand how you feel. But sometimes - well, sometimes things aren't always so black and white." This is kind of bold, but I think it'll work. If I rest his hand on my breast, guide it, maybe it'll make him easier about touching me, make him see that I mean it, that it's OK. "It feels very good to me when you touch me here. I'd like for you to touch me here some more. Doesn't it feel good to you, sugar?"

"Let me show you." Mmm. Mmmm. What soft lips. No fur on them, and that's probably the only part of him without it. Nice gentle kisses - God, I don't think I've ever had those. That's a first for me. I want to try with tongue. "Mmmm........" He tastes just like sugar. I wonder if he was having something sweet - junk food, maybe? "Mmmm......" OK, OK, getting a little lost here. Better pull back. But nicely. "That was very nice. You're a natural kisser, sugar, don't let anyone ever tell you different."

"I'd like to use my mouth on you. Here." Little Hank stood right at attention when I ran a finger along his length. Heh. Little Hank likes me, that's for sure. "You can touch me while I'm doing it. You can touch me wherever you like, OK? Don't be shy. Just enjoy this." Just nodding. He's on board with the plan but there's still a lot of nervousness in there. Well, you know what? I think I'll just -I'll just go down on him without a condom. I mean, he'll feel more that way, what with the fur and all, and I won't mind too much if he comes in my mouth. It wouldn't be the first time and hey, maybe he'll taste like sugar there too. "You just relax and let me please you. Don't worry about coming, sugar. Whenever you're ready, just let go." Another nervous nod. Relax, sugar. I'm going to make this real good for you.

Kind of weird to feel something all fuzzy and furry in my mouth, but he does taste good here. Not sugary, salty, but a good kind of salty. "Unnnh....." That's right, sugar, you enjoy it. "Oh....." I give a class A blow job and I'm going to spoil you for other women. Maybe I can leave a little piece of me with him that way, you know, as a memory of a really good night. I'd never get a guy like this in real life, but maybe I can stick with him in his memory as the nice girl who gave him his first sex. That'll have to be good enough. "Unnnh!" Getting close now. I definitely want to swallow him. I just really have that urge. It would be something special, something just for him. "Aaaah! Aaaah!" Yes, that's it, sugar, let me take you deeper. "OH!!" Mmmm. There we go. Tasted good and it tasted like a lot. I'll just give him a few more licks to be nice, to ease him away.

"You're welcome. I liked it too." He needs a rest, at least a little one, before we get to the main event. Maybe I'll just lie down with him in the bed, encourage him to explore my body a little. I mean, hey - half the fun of this for him is probably just looking over a real live naked woman. "Why don't you relax a little while before we do more? I'll just - I'll lay here beside you and you can touch me if you like."

"OK." Or you could just lay beside me and look at me, like you're doing. Whatever you'd like, sugar. It's actually kind of nice to have someone look at my face for a change, but I'm sure you'd be more interested in things residing a little further south. Ah. There we go - hand on breast. That's a good start and he did it on his own initiative. That's promising. "You have a very nice body."

"Yes, more! More, please! Oh, Hank don't stop!" Good God, it's good. Sugar, don't stop. In fact - "Hank, please - please, with your other hand, please - unh! - slide your finger inside me." Maybe that was too rude, too salty because he looks a little dubious or unsure, but - there. Oh. My. God. "Two fingers. In - in and out, Hank, please, sugar. Oh....." Holy fuck. I swear to God, it's never been this good. It's so good, so right. "Unnnh! D-don't stop! God! Hank!" And believe me, right now, they're one and the same. I'm going to come, really come, at someone else's hands. I'm going to come for Hank and it's going to be a doozy. I can feel my belly getting tight and my legs tensing up and - "Aaaaah!!" Hey, no, don't - "Don't stop!!! Hank!!!" There we go, it's - there! "Aaaahhh!!!! Hank!!!!" Oh holy *God* that was amazing. "Oh, Hank........"

"It's all right. I don't think I've ever been that satisfied." That caught his attention. But he - he thinks I'm exaggerating or saying it just to make him feel good or something. "I never come when I'm with a client, Hank. You're - you're my first in that department." He doesn't quite know what to say to that, and frankly, neither do I. But I see that little Hank would like to get his two cents in. Little Hank is ready to go again. "Sugar, are you ready to be inside me? I'm ready for you and now - now would be a good time."

"Yes." Oh my God, he's going to - yes, he's kissing me. He's giving me a nice, gentle kiss before he puts himself in. "Thank you, Rogue. Thank - thank you." Sweet man. It's so emotional for him and I - I guess it's getting emotional for me too because I just kissed him back. "Shall we - shall I, ah, might you have a condom?"

"Sure." But I kind of don't want him to use it. I mean, I'm on the pill as a backup, because - well, because condoms aren't 100% effective and the last thing I need to do is drag a child into the total disaster that is my life. And he's a virgin. It's not like he's going to have any interesting social diseases and I know I don't thanks to Sabretooth's lingering healing factor. Sabretooth - now that's a horrible thought. Let's just move on. "But you can be inside me bare if you want. I'm on the pill, and I'm clean. No, um, no disease or anything. It might give you more sensation - it might be hard to feel with the fur and the condom."

"Sugar, you're fine. However you'd like. On top would be fine." He really does have a cute little smile to go along with those cute ears. "I'll guide you in. Let me - there." In reality, 'little' Hank is not at all little, and I needed to rub him up against me a little to get him lubricated. God knows I've got enough going on in that department after the way he was touching me. "There - there." He's right at my entrance. It's up to him. "Whenever you're ready, sugar."

"Oh......" What an incredible look of wonder on his face. I hope this is good for him, really good. I think it is - he's already thrusting pretty steadily. Nature just takes over. I haven't ever been with a virgin, but I could pretty much guess that instinct takes over and tells people what to do. Hank's gong strong now. I know he won't last long, but that's OK. I've already had one hell of an orgasm. You go on sugar, you go after your own now. "Mmmmph!"

"So good, sugar." Rolling off of me right away - I bet he's concerned about crushing me, but he was OK, he wasn't too heavy. And - oh my God, how sweet - he's rolling me with him. He wants to hold me. You know, ordinarily I wouldn't, not at all, but - but I want to now. I just want to. I never get held, never, and I bet he doesn't either. I'll hold him back.

"You're welcome, Hank. I liked it a lot too." Mmmm. So comfortable. Safe, warm, almost loved. Holding him like this, it's easy to fool myself into thinking that I'm in bed with a lover, not a john. You know what? That's because he *was* a lover to me, not just someone using me. He was good to me, really good. I didn't think that was possible, not being who and what I am, not being the person I am on top of all that. But he was - he was good to me. "Give me - give me a minute and we'll do some more things. I just need a minute......." Can't fall asleep. I really can't. I shouldn't. But he's so comfy and so warm. I really shouldn't sleep...........

Mmmm. Too much light. Too much light for six a.m. Wait - wait. It is not six. The clock reads ten fifteen. Did I forget to set the alarm or - oh! Oh, dear, Rogue! Where did she go? Oh dear, I hope she - oh, all right. She must be in the bathroom. I hear some noises and the door is closed. Whew. How fortunate that she has not already gone. I would like to speak with her before she goes, definitely. And I suppose that it would behoove me to do so clothed, so perhaps I should take advantage of her bathroom sojourn to find some boxers. There. Much better. Now I shall -

"I wanted to talk to you too, sugar." Ah - I do not understand. She is taking money out of her small purse. It is not usually the, ah, lady that pays the gentlemen in these situations and I don't know what she could possibly - "I want you to have this. It's the money Bobby gave me. Get yourself a nice birthday present."

Oh dear. I was right, she is a most kind person. But regardless of her kind and generous streak, I cannot take the money. After all, she looks far too thin and I noted that her skirt was held together with a safety pin. No, I could not possibly take the money. "I had a most marvelous birthday present in you. Please, you should keep the money."

"I don't want it." She looks so sad, and I - yes, I believe she might be about to cry. "Last night was - it was a little different. You gave as much to me as I did to you. It wouldn't be fair to take the money and I don't want - I just don't want to be paid for last night, all right?" Tears, lots of them. Oh, please do not cry. I must comfort her. Perhaps a hug. A nice, friendly hug. Preferably with no erection - do you hear that, nether parts?

"I understand." Of course I cannot force anything upon her, but I feel I must try harder to get her to stay. Holding her in my arms last night, watching her sleep - she looked so like an angel, a beautiful, innocent angel, and I cannot stomach the thought of her living the life she does. It appears to have touched her, stained her so little, but no one should have to sell themselves to survive. No one. "But it is not all like that - you would not be required to attend school and we, ah, try to make it very un-zoo-like here." Whew. That garnered the chuckle I was hoping for.

"Indeed. Well, I certainly understand you not wishing to place yourself in danger by serving on the team. And you are correct that, ordinarily, those who stay here and are not in school must contribute in some fashion. I - I was thinking that perhaps, though, if you were to stay here, with me, as my - my guest, you could take the time you need to figure out what you would like to do without - without the pressures inherent in your line of work." I sincerely hope that came out right. I do not mean to insult her. She - she is looking up at me quite kindly. I do not think she took it the wrong way.

"Were you to stay as my guest, I assure you, you would be exactly that - my guest. I would not expect, ah, your attentions of last night. Not at all." She's just looking up at me with those impossibly big brown eyes and soft lips and perfect little nose and - Hank, old boy, shake yourself out of it. Helping. You're helping this young girl, not hitting on her. Of course, the return of my erection is not likely to convince her of that. "Honestly. Please - please ignore my bodily response. It is simply your nearness and the remembered pleasures of last night. I - my offer is sincere." No, I do not think I have ever been more embarrassed. Goodness gracious, you'd think I could control it a little better than this. I am not a teenager, after all.

"I liked last night, you know." Drat - she has taken it all the wrong way. It isn't that I do not like the way she is caressing my bare chest at the moment, but I do not want her to think there is some expectation of sex involved in the offer. Yes, she would have to share my quarters, but I can easily obtain a bed of her own and whatever else she might require. "I don't think I want to stay as your guest, Hank. I don't think that would work. I'm - I'm attracted to you and - well, I just don't think that would work, sugar. It's very sweet of you to offer, though. Thank you for that. It actually - it means a lot to me that you'd try to help me like that, sugar." More tears and was that her tucking the money into the waistband of my boxers? It was, and now she's going, now she's leaving - drat!

"Hank, sugar, you don't want to get all mixed up with a girl like me. I mean, look at you. You're sweet and gentle and kind and smart. You're a doctor for goodness sakes. You're going to have women crawling all over you. You don't want to get all mixed up with someone like me. I have a past and - well, you know what my present's like. You don't want that, sugar, you want some nice, smart girl that'll give you lots of love and babies and all those good things. Not someone who's been around the block as much as I have. I - I'd better go, sugar, before I get any more emotional here. Thank you - thank you for a lovely evening."

"Please." I sincerely hope I did not startle or frighten her by grabbing her arm in that fashion, but, heavens, I really do not want to let her just walk out of my life. I am not ignorant of the complications she is referencing, but I am willing to cope with them, especially if it means helping someone who has shown me so much kindness. Especially if it means keeping her in my life. "Please do not go. Please at least let me - let me give you a ride back and perhaps we can discuss things a bit more on the way. Please, Rogue?" And I need to find a way to convince her to take the money back. And stay here, with me. And perhaps to look into art school for her if indeed she is serious about a career in painting. And -

I have searched for her for the past three nights with no luck. I doubt that anyone from the mansion even realizes I am out. They probably assume that I am immersed in my studies, in the lab, not here, in a seedy part of the city, cruising around in the Professor's tinted-window SUV, looking for Rogue. I do not know what her response will be if I do find her. I must at least succeed in returning the money she left with me, I must at least do that. I hope to talk with her more about the possibility of staying at the mansion. I hope to convince her to stay with me.

"Yes." I have missed her warm, gentle smiles. I have missed *her*. "Thank you for the pleasure of your company this evening." I debated whether to offer to compensate her for her time, but given her previous attitude toward being paid, I decided against it, favoring instead a dinner invitation. She can certainly use a good meal, even if the best that I can offer her is drive-thru junk food.

"And I, you. Very much so. Rogue - I - I have been thinking of you often. In fact, I have been searching for you each night since you left." That has her attention. "I, ah, grilled Bobby until he disclosed where he had found you. I - I find myself missing your company. And not just your, ah, sexual company." The way she's looking at me now - perhaps I should just have out with it. "I was hoping to discuss with you again the possibility of you staying with me at the mansion."

"Please hear me out." And let us hope that this long drive-thru line takes a while, long enough for me to get this all out. "I have been thinking long and hard on your words. I understand why you may not feel you fit into mansion life. But - but I am significantly apart from mansion life. I live much in my own world, down in the lab. I rarely go on missions with the team and I - I am not very social with the others living there. You would not be signing on to a life at the mansion, but rather, a life with me, in my lab." Heaven knows why that would be an enticement to anyone, but my 'gut' is telling me that Rogue will receive that well. Or at least better than life among the other mansion residents. "My offer to reside there still stands."

"It could be, if you wish. I simply - my offer to stay as my guest was meant to ease any apprehensions or concerns you might have, to make clear that I did not would not demand or expect anything in exchange from you for the offer. It was not meant to convey a lack of interest in you as more than a simple 'guest'. I was - I was unsure what your feelings might be in that regard." Still crying. Why, oh why does my genius never kick in when I really require it? "In my wishful moments, I would like it to be as my girlfriend as well. You are so beautiful, so gentle, and you have showed me such kindness and affection, Rogue, that I could hardly wish otherwise. But a - a relationship with someone of my extraordinary appearance is something much different than a single night of - of companionship. I was not sure what your feelings might be on that issue."

"Nor would I wish you to. I would not have had the pleasure and delight of making your acquaintance otherwise, and I would not change that for anything." I just have to touch her, and oh heavens, how I'd like to hold her and wipe away all those tears. I shall - I shall hold her hand. Yes, that's it.

"Using him for what? I mean, she totally gave the money I paid her to Hank. She wouldn't take it, still won't." Aha - fearless leader man didn't know that little tidbit of info. I wonder why Hank didn't throw it in his face? That's a damn good point, if I do say so myself. "Look, Scott - they seem to fit together OK. I know it's weird - but if Hank's happy, then so what? It's sure as hell not the only weird thing under this roof."

"Everybody takes a chance on that, Scott." And I know he relates given the meltdown of his engagement to Jean. But really, it's better that he found out before the marriage than after that she was doing Remy. "Let Hank have a chance at happiness. If it doesn't work out, well, we'll be here for him." As long as our fearless leader doesn't constantly poo-poo it, constantly ride Hank over it, I'll be happy. I mean, I don't think Hank is shooting for everyone to do backsprings over Rogue moving in. I think he just kinda wants to be left alone about it.

"Love to." He's been so unbelievably sweet, you know? I even heard him mumbling something in his sleep last night about me being an angel. He's really gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable here, to make me feel - well, not like a hooker, like a girlfriend. Like a really loved, special, cherished girlfriend. He's the amazing one.

"Mmmm. Take your time. I'm still pretty happy from round one." He's a natural at the sex stuff. And he's always asking what I like, always looking for my favorites. "You know, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me in my whole life, sugar. I'm so glad that I got to be your birthday present."

"You are the best thing in my life as well, Marie. My heart has been at peace since I met you." Those yellow eyes look so full of emotion. He's looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world. "I used to dream about having someone in my life like you, someone who made me feel cared for and - and normal." Oh, sugar............ "You have given me that, Marie." Now he's getting embarrassed, suddenly shy. "Marie is a lovely name, you know. Simple, but elegant. And there have been many famous Maries - Marie Curie, for one. Yes, she was a brilliant scientist, she - "

I would've guessed that he'd want to know that. "Since I was fifteen. My powers manifested and I ran away from home at fourteen. I tangled with some people who were - well, they were bad people, let's just leave it at that." I like that he holds me a little bit tighter at that. "The truth is that I had to do some pretty awful things to get away from them. I touched them both, used my skin on them, and one of them had a similar mutation to mine. That's how I learned to control it, to turn my skin off when I wanted. I moved to the city, and at that age, I couldn't get a real job, couldn't rent a decent place to live, so I started hooking. I didn't want to go into the foster care system or an orphanage because, well, because at least as a hooker I'd get paid for sex and I'd get to pick who. You never know what kind of people you'd wind up with if you go into foster care or something. So I started hooking, managed to avoid all the jerks who wanted to be my pimp, and I started painting. I really wanted to do that, to try to be an artist, to work on my skills so that maybe one day I could have that as a career instead. I swore to myself that I'd only hook for a little while, and that I'd stop as soon as I sold a painting, or as soon as I turned eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday I started making plans to quit, but I hadn't - I hadn't found anything that was any better than what I was doing yet. And then I met you."

"Of course I did, sugar. Bobby described you as very nice, very sweet. I didn't get the chance to meet many people who fit that description in my former line of work. Bobby said you were unique and you sure are, sugar, but I like everything about you. Your fur makes you soft but your muscles make you strong. I have a serious thing for your ears." And maybe I'll just touch them a bit and show you. "And you're always so warm - I like that a lot too."

"I remember thinking at first that it must be some joke, some prank, that a woman as obviously lovely and nice as yourself would agree to, ah, be with me intimately. I remember thinking that your white streaks made you look wonderfully exotic. I remember thinking, after I realized that you were indeed quite serious, that the men who are fortunate enough to be with you must never tire of looking at your face. You have such lovely eyes, such lovely lips. Very soft when you kissed me. I remember thinking that you were probably the most beautiful woman I would ever see up close and certainly the most beautiful woman I should ever see unclothed. I remember thinking that it was a privilege that I should cherish and remember, to be with you."

"All I'm saying is that I've been Hank's friend for most of his life and I don't want to see him hurt." I hear you, sugar. That's all you've been saying for the past half hour, ever since you cornered me in the kitchen and decided to lecture me. "It's not that I have a problem with you, ah, personally, it isn't."

"Look." Oh my, I do believe he's getting serious here. "You can't blame me for being a little skeptical. Look at what you're getting out of this deal - a roof over your head, food to eat, everything taken care of. And all you have to do in return is - well, what you have been doing, only with one person instead of lots." Ouch. I wasn't going to let pretty visor-boy get to me, but that hurt. "What's Hank get out of the deal?"

You know, that's about enough of this. "The difference between being a whore and a girlfriend, sugar, is in how your man treats you and how you treat your man. I've met plenty of women who acted like the former even when they were the latter. If I had to take a guess, I'd say that something with two x chromosomes pissed you off pretty good and now you think every girl you pass by is out to screw their man over. Now, Hank, he treated me like a girlfriend even when I was a whore, and I never could think of him as anything but a lover, not a john. Sugar, not everybody's relationship works the same as yours did."

"Jean? The red-head?" Well, if it was her who screwed him over, I can see why he's pissed. She seems like the stealthy kind, probably didn't break up with him before finding someone else. Hmm. "No, sugar, Bobby didn't say anything. Being in my former line of work, you learn to read people pretty good, and you're wearing it like a neon sign. You're pissed enough at my gender in general to do a little mouthing off, to put me in my place some, but not enough to try to beat me or something a little rougher. That's right about where I'd peg you."

"Frankly, I don't give a damn what you think, sugar. You had it all figured out the second you knew what I used to do for a living. Nothing I could say or do now is going to change your mind. Pretty much like those people who make up their minds about you as soon as they see that visor." Whoa -don't tell me some of that got through. Don't tell me that actually registered. Maybe I didn't give you enough credit, sugar. I'm not going to let him off that easy, though. I'm not going to go all mushy now, oh no. He's been an asshole extraordinaire. "I'm going to take my coffee downstairs if you don't mind. Wouldn't want to get any of my 'whore cooties' on you."

You know, life sucks. It really just bites. If Rogue dies, poor Hank - I don't think he'll ever get over it. And I know for *sure* the guilt won't ever stop. When that FOH idiot shot him, she rushed right over, running even though they were all shooting at her too. Hank said she did something with her skin, used it to push out her healing powers into Hank. Saved his life. But now she's all unconscious and Hank says there's too much brain activity. And nobody - not Hank, not Jean, not the Professor - knows what to do to help her. We've really got to beef up mansion security. They shouldn't have been able to get on the grounds, much less blow up the front door.

I feel like the world's biggest asshole. The way Jean acted in the fight, the way she was so worried about Remy - I guess she actually does care for him. Maybe she even loves him. Him, not me. I was so sure it was all just some fling, some meaningless affair, something she did just to hurt me. Well, Scotty, as you've been told more than once the whole world doesn't revolve around you. I guess it's actually true.

And then there's Rogue. She wasn't even supposed to be in the fight, she was supposed to be hiding in the basement. But I'm glad she wasn't. That bullet hit Hank square in the chest, nicked his heart, Jean said. If Rogue hadn't used her powers to heal him, we'd have lost him. And I'd have lost one of my closest friends before I could make amends with him, before I could apologize for my attitude about Rogue. Great, Scott, you're doing just great. Alienating friends, carrying around tons of anger - oh, yeah, that's a great way to go through life. Well, everything will change now. I'll be more supportive of Hank and I'll - well, I'll just try to be in a better mood instead of cranky all the time. I'll try. And I'll start by bringing down some food for Hank.

"Marie, darling, please open your eyes." Well, at least that voice was softer. But eye-opening - it's out of the question what with all this light. Even squinting is ouchy. "Marie, please." Hey - I know that voice. I know that voice. It's Hank. "Oh, Marie." It's a sad Hank. Just what's going on here?

"Marie - " Oh-oh. That's Hank's serious voice. "You suffered some injuries as a result of reversing the flow of your mutation. You - you - there was bleeding from the nose and ears and your brain wave patterns were highly abnormal for over 32 hours. The lasting effects of -of the injuries is not known. We must be careful. I want to monitor you, to observe you for at least another 24 hours. I am so sorry, Marie."

"For - for not being of more assistance to you in your hour of need. For getting injured in such a way that you felt compelled to assist me. For - for bringing you here in the first place. It is not a safe place for you, Marie." This right here - this is why I love him. He really means all that. He's all worried about me, and with those slumping shoulders and big frown I just want to hug him and kiss him and take all that worry away. My head is all swimmy and moving is definitely not a good idea, but a hug is in order. "Oh - oh, my. Perhaps you should not -"

"Shh." Enough of this. I'm alive, he's alive, and we're both going to be OK. It's all good. "Just hold me a little while, OK? That'll make me feel a lot better." And him too, I bet. Oh, thank goodness for that healing power - the one good thing out of getting mauled by Sabretooth and having to deal with him in my head. Finally, something good out of all that. Whew. Double whew.

"Am I supposed to be? I know the rest of the mansion tends to bend over backwards to make life convenient for you, and you're probably used to that. Well, I'm sorry, sugar, but I'm the kind of girl who holds a grudge. Not pretty, but that's just the way I am. And you know what? It's saved me a lot of trouble on occasion. Now, you're Hank's friend, and I know he likes you a lot. Out of respect for that - which, by the way is much more courtesy than you've shown - I'll be just as nice to you as I can be. But I'm not going to kiss and make up with you, sugar. I know what you think of me, deep down, and I could probably save Hank's life a thousand times and that wouldn't change."

"Yes. Well, thanks for your time, Rogue. I'll see you later." Or not, Rogue. You, I think I'll just avoid. She's right - we'll never get along. The best I can do is to stop needling Hank about her and to just leave her alone. That, and to just focus on my own life. I've got plenty going on there without interfering in Hank's.

"I hope Scott was not too uncivil." He has spoken to me at length and often about his objections to Marie, despite my clear indication that I am committed to this relationship. I can only hope that he has not stressed or tired her too greatly this evening. He did promise me that he would be apologizing, not insulting her. I shall have to speak with him again, I see.

"I think he's right sometimes, sugar. You know - you know how I feel about you. You know I love you." Ah, I never tire of hearing her say those particular words. "But you do deserve someone with a less checkered past than mine. I'm just sorry I can't give you that, sorry I couldn't have avoided being on the street and everything that went with it."

"But I am not sorry, or ashamed of your past. No - that is not quite correct." Oh dear - that was hurt in her expression. I must rectify that - quickly. "I mean to say - I am sorry that you had to do some of the things you did to survive. I am sorry that you found yourself in that situation. I would never wish for you to - to have to sell yourself. You are far too precious a gift for that. But I am proud of you for surviving, for being a marvelously kind and generous and warm person despite what you have been though. I am proud, not ashamed. And I cannot possibly be sorry for your past - your path in life brought you to my door, and for that I can only be tremendously, unfathomably grateful. So grateful, Marie." Oh-oh. Perhaps that did not come out quite right because she appears on the verge of tears. Accursed expression - why does refinement and articulation insist on deserting me when I most - oh. I see. Not sad tears, at least not judging by the most wonderful kiss that she is favoring me with now.

"Yes." That, I have always known. That, I could hardly have missed. But I believe I do know the way in which she means it now. "As are you. Come, let us relax together, hmm?" A nice, quiet evening will do us some good. A nice, quiet evening with no interruptions from Scott, FOH combatants, or the world in general. A nice, quiet evening with just Marie and myself, doing nothing but doing it together. Just like any other couple.

Look at those two - curled up, all asleep on the couch. Hank was watching some god-awful, boring PBS special on neuroscience and Rogue sat with him through the whole thing. I'm not surprised they fell asleep, actually. They're still both recovering from everything that happened during the attack.

You know, I know what Scott says and what the Professor thinks and how Jean looks at Rogue sometimes - like she's wearing some scarlet letter. But anyone looking at them now couldn't doubt that they were made for each other. Yeah, I did a good thing, picking her up, bringing her into Hank's life. I've never seen him happier and Rogue - she's off the street, trying her hand at her paintings, living a good life. If they're happy with each other, what could be wrong with that? Sure, it's not the nice, geeky research scientist chick we all pictured Hank winding up with, but even if their brains don't match, their hearts do. That's good enough for me, anyway