Unspoken: Strange Comfort

Strange Comfort
by jengrrrl

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Rogue runs into Logan's room

Notes: I come home after a couple of days of not checking email and find all this!! Of course I have to add to it now. LOL. Not betaed. Short because if I tried for anything longer, someone would beat me to it. LOLOL I'm slow as a turtle on valium, folks. But ya'll know that already. ;)

Date: September 25, 2001

"Ride?" The room was dark but she could somehow feel him staring at her through the black. "I don't think so. What are you doing here?"

That was it. Her big plan. Do something stupid, something that would prove to Scott that she was worth more than all the Jean Greys in the world combined. But the bubble of an idea burst as soon as she heard it repeated. Go for a ride. Did she think she could make Scott jealous? Then what? That didn't mean he would forget about Jean. Or that she could possible trust him again. "I don't know."

She heard the soft rustling of sheets, his footsteps as he ambled towards her. His footsteps were so heavy. They sounded like he was pounding on the floor.

He moved past her and turned on the light. "You don't know? Now why don't I believe that?"

She inched past him, ignored his glare, and sat on the chair by his bed. "I don't care what you believe, Logan. It's true."

There was a long moment of silence, wherein Logan just stared at her in disbelief. After a while though, he seemed to understand. He moved to sit on his bed, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "All right. You win. But I'll take the chair. You can have the bed."

It was her turn to be shocked. "That's not what I'm doing," she protested.

"No?"

"No. I, I just needed a place. And I couldn't find one empty, a room. And I ran into." She stopped and he knew, instantly, whom she meant. "I'm not a bad person, Logan. I'm not petty, and I thought I wasn't the jealous type."

"I don't think you're a bad person at all."

She stood up from the chair and glanced at him, looking exhausted. "I feel like a bad person. I feel like I haven't been good enough. Like I'm blaming all this on Jean when maybe I should take a look at myself, examine my own short-comings."

"And Summers'?"

The question was ignored as Rogue moved to pick up her bag. "Sorry for the disturbance, Logan. Won't happen again."

"You're not leaving."

"Excuse me?"

"You're not ready to go yet."

A hint of amusement crossed her eyes as she replied, "And the evidence of this is that I picked up my bag and said I was leaving?"

He took her bag from her hand and tossed it across the room.

"Hey! How do you know there wasn't anything breakable in there?"

Shrugging, he said, "I don't, but you probably left everything breakable in your room, just so you could go back and throw it at Summers when you got a chance." Her cheeks turned pink and she looked like she was ready to say something when he thought to add, "I'm kidding, all right? Now sit down, for chrissakes."

"I need to go, Logan. I'm really tired. I've been thinking about this for too long. I just have to stop thinking."

"So stop thinking." He made it sound so easy. Like there was a switch at the top of her head that could be turned on and off. Stop thinking. Click. Resume torment. Click.

"I can't."

"Stop thinking about him. Stop torturing yourself with what-ifs. And you know what I'm talking about. I see that look you give me. That look like you want to take my head off for bringing her here. So, what if Logan hadn't shown up with Jean, you ask yourself. Would he have looked at someone else?" He paused when she turned away from him. "Would you?"

"I love Scott."

"I didn't say you didn't. And he loves you, too, right?"

She turned back, angrily, "What are you, a shrink all of a sudden? When did big ape man suddenly become perceptive?"

"Ouch."

"Shut up," she said, even as she flung herself back onto the bed and lay there, looking to Logan like a scared little girl.

"All the songs say love hurts, kid."

She groaned and turned into the sheets, digging her way in and under. "Fuck the songs," was her muffled reply.

He laughed. "Yeah, fuck the songs. What do the songs know?"

Her mouth peeked up from under the bedspread. "Nothing," she said emphatically.

"That's right."

"Logan?"

"Huh?"

"Help me out?" And, God help her, she was still thinking about it. Still thinking of her revenge. Lying in another man's bed didn't help matters. Smelling another man on herself when she had never thought she would, had abhorred the very thought.

"No."

"You want her, too. Don't you?"

"I want a lot of things. Right now, for instance, I want a nice, fat cigar and a mug of beer. That would really be nice. I'd like for my life to be a little bit less complicated than it has been. That would be the icing on my cake. The last thing I need at this moment is to get into the middle of a Scott and Jean sandwich."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes I did. Go to sleep. I'll be on the chair."

She wanted to say that she didn't want to put him out. That she didn't want him on the chair. They could share the bed. She would wrap herself up and keep him safe, and he would make her feel safe with the warmth of his body, with the weight of it. But she didn't. She just nodded and sighed when he turned the light off.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see his figure in the chair, distant but present.

~*~

Full of Grace by Victoria P.

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Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.