Disclaimer: Bite me.
Title: Choices and Consequences
Author: Sorcieré (hack_heaven@...
Rating: R (violence, sex, drinking, murder, slightly disturbing
subjects - the usual)
Pairing: Rogue/Sabretooth (yes, you read that right), Logan/Rogue,
Archive rights: The usual suspects - anyone else, just ask.
Summary: Sometimes, revenge and comfort go hand in hand.
To Nadja, because at least *she* won't want my head on a stake after
A/N 1: You don't have to forgive me, Lord. I know exactly what I'm
A/N 2: Flames will be publicly mocked. Consider yourself warned.
* * *
Choices and Consequences
* * *
It took twenty-six days from the moment he stepped through the door
after his four-month trip to Canada. It took twenty-six days before
all the UST between Logan and Jean became RST. It was 'resolved' in
the forest, one sunny afternoon.
Ironically, Scott was the one who discovered them.
He had been shocked - so had Rogue. In retrospect, they shouldn't
have been. The attraction between Jean and Logan was obvious, and
this...this had only been a matter of time.
It still hurt, though. It hurt Scott, it hurt Rogue, and it probably
hurt Jean and Logan to see the other two so wounded. Four days later,
things finally reached their breaking point.
Scott and Jean had an argument that could be heard all over the
mansion. It ended when Scott slammed the door open and told Jean that
if Logan was what she wanted, then fine by him. He then told her that
since she knew where the door was, she might as well use it.
Logan tried to talk to Rogue, tried to tell her that while he knew
she cared deeply about him, things between them would never have
worked out. She calmly replied that if he didn't leave her alone, she
would touch him again - and this time, she wouldn't let go.
That evening, Logan and Jean left for Alaska, to 'discover the
secrets of their relationship' as Jean put it. Neither Scott nor
Rogue cared enough to say goodbye to them. They just watched from
their rooms as the lovers drove away.
While Scott seemed calm and determined to move on, Rogue knew that
the seemingly lack of anger and rage was only a facade. In reality,
he had only scratched the surface of those emotions. And since Rogue
wasn't exactly up to any 'how-dare-they?!' - rants, she decided to do
the first thing she could think of - dig up her fake ID card and go
And to Hell with the consequences.
* * *
Several hours later, Rogue found herself at some small, local bar. It
was dark, filled with smoke and most of the customers looked like the
kind that had their photos hanging in the post-office.
The bartender didn't ask any question, though, and that was good
enough for Rogue. He just took one quick look at her ID card,
pretended that he didn't know it was a fake and handed her the beer
Rogue liked that.
What she didn't like, were all the guys who tried to put the moves on
her. She'd had more than her share of sweaty, gruff badasses recently
and the last thing she wanted was another one who could break her
Using every known - and several unknown - curses, she let them know
that she wasn't looking for any company, damnit, and if they wanted a
quick fuck they could say hello to miss Five Fingered Lover instead.
The other bar patrons got the hint and left her alone with her beers.
It was probably a good thing, Rogue decided. She was hurt and
seriously pissed off and she had the feeling that if anyone had
bothered her, all the self-defense lessons with Scott would have
Rogue ordered another beer and continued her mental Logan-bashing.
With a little luck, she would be able to sit there all night, and
return to the mansion sometime in the morning. A mansion without
* * *
More than a few beers later, things looked better. Not much, but
better nonetheless. Nobody had dared to bother her again, and she had
enough money with her to get roaring drunk. A small brawl between
some bikers had proved a nice distraction, and judging from the
increasing amount of customers, it looked like there was more
entertainment on its way.
All in all, things didn't look too bad...until Murphy's Law decided
to equal the score.
Rogue was just about done with another beer, when she felt someone
stop close to her.
"If it isn't the runt's little brat," someone growled.
Rogue spun around. The growl belonged to a very large and very feral
mutant who looked way too familiar. Unlike last time she'd seen him,
he was now dressed in normal clothes in order to blend in with the
humans, but not even the jeans and the new haircut could hide the
intimidating air around him.
"Oh, damn," Rogue muttered, then continued a little louder, "Go
*away*, Creed! Leave me the fuck alone!"
It was the alcohol, she later decided. It was the only explanation
why she would talk that way to a person who could kill her without
breaking a sweat. The alcohol, and maybe the fact that her heart had
already caused her more pain than anything Sabretooth could ever do.
Creed's eyes narrowed angrily and for a moment, Rogue was certain
that he was going to kill her. Oddly, that didn't worry her.
Then he actually grinned - sure, it looked more than a little
threatening with all those sharp teeth, but it was a grin nonetheless.
"Yer drunk, aren't ya?" he commented, and Rogue could have sworn he
was enjoying this.
"No shit, Sherlock," she retorted and looked at her beer again.
Creed looked at the bottle and snorted.
"If ya wanted t' get real drunk, ya should have picked somethin'
stronger than that."
Rogue didn't dignify that with an answer.
Creed smirked and quickly surveyed the room.
"Does the runt know that 'is little pet's out alone this late?"
Rogue glared at him, then emptied the beer.
"No. Why should he give a fuck anyway?" she asked, adding a half-
growl of her own - a habit she'd picked up from Logan.
Rogue muttered something less-than-flattering about the Wolverine,
then ordered another beer. The bartender sent Creed a slightly
frightened look as he handed Rogue a bottle, then hurried away from
Rogue snorted and took a drink.
Sabretooth just watched her with a slightly snide expression.
"Problems at the little mutie paradise?"
Rogue sent him her best 'get the fuck away or I'll kick your ass'-
glare. Creed just seemed to find that awfully funny, judging by the
low rumble that made its way through the background noise.
It sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and that just added to
"What're ya doin' here, anyway?" she snapped.
"Lookin' for a quick fuck."
Rogue snorted and glared at her beer, having found that at least the
bottles didn't laugh at her.
"Why? Ain't the blue bitch enough? Or didya just come lookin' for a
Sabretooth arched an eyebrow. Maybe. Rogue wasn't sure. She hadn't
exactly inherited Logan's near-immunity to alcohol, and both the beer
and the heavy, smoke-filled air was starting to get to her.
"That an offer, girl?"
Rogue sent her bottle another evil glare.
"Sit down an' gimme a beer or shut the fuck up," she snapped.
Creed seemed to consider his options, then leaned across the bar and
grabbed the bartender.
"A beer for the girl - now!" he growled.
The bartender paled and nodded frantically.
"A-a-any particular kind?" he stuttered.
Creed looked at Rogue.
"Anything but Canadian."
The bartender nodded again, and Creed released him. The man took
several, frightened steps back and, after a threatening glare from
Creed, grabbed a beer and placed it in front of Rogue.
"Thanks," she said.
"Yer pissed at the X-freaks, I'm pissed at Mystie, we might as well
be pissed together."
The small (and rapidly shrinking) part of her brain that was still
fairly reasonably, made her aware that this whole situation was more
than a little surreal and that she should just get out of there as
fast as she could.
Rogue looked at the beer, then at Sabretooth, then back at the beer.
* * *
"...'An then that hairy *slut* left with the redheaded bitch! That
*asshole*!!" Rogue finished and took a big drink of her beer.
Creed shook his head with mock sadness.
"Runt was never too smart. Leave with the dickhead's wife when
there's a teenager who wants to fuck 'is brains out...idiot."
"I do NOT want to fuck 'is brains out!" Rogue objected.
Creed glared at her over his glass of whiskey, and Rogue sighed.
"'Kay...I do. Did. 'Fore this. I don't wanna fuck 'im anymore. No
"Smart girl," Creed noted and emptied his glass. The bartender
quickly filled it again.
"Are ya flirtin' with me?" Rogue asked suspiciously.
Creed looked at her.
"So what? Get a problem with that?"
Rogue opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, then closed
it again as she remembered something:
Wolverine hated Sabretooth, hated him with every adamantium-laced
bone in his body. And how'd that old saying go? The enemy of my
Rogue looked at the man in front of her. Feral, ruthless,
dangerous...he was perfect. She ran a finger across his chest and
"Let's find a motel-room...sugah."
* * *
The following morning, Rogue woke up with the mother of all hangovers.
Her first though was 'ouch!', followed by 'damn!'. Things went pretty
much downhill from there.
It took several long, painful minutes before she was able to open her
eyes without adding to the headache...and then she wished she could
just close them right up again.
At the end of the bed was a small, rather old sofa. In it sat
Rogue groaned as the previous evening came crashing down on her. Not
only had she lost Logan to Jean, she'd also gotten roaring drunk and
has sex with Sabretooth...and not only sex. She had lost her
virginity to Sabretooth. To one of the sworn enemies of the X-Men.
Sabretooth raised an eyebrow.
"Ya look like hell," he noted.
"Shut up," Rogue grumbled. Creed had let her live so far, hadn't he?
If he wanted her dead, he'd just have killed her right away, wouldn't
Creed just watched her.
Her first reaction was to get out of there. That...*man*...was one of
the worst enemies of the X-Men. He was a cold-blooded killer - he'd
nearly killed both her and Logan in Canada. He was an animal, a
predator...and he was Logan's worst enemy.
And suddenly things looked a lot different.
Logan had left her. He'd left her for *Jean*. Jean fucking Grey of
all people! Those two had hurt not only her, but also Scott who'd
grown to be one of Rogue's closest friends. Logan had broken her
heart and destroyed their special bond. He deserved to be hurt, too,
And Creed could give her the revenge she craved.
If Logan returned and found that she was with Sabretooth, his arch-
nemesis...the thought was *very* appealing.
On one hand Creed was dangerous, ruthless and animalistic. He was an
enemy of the X-Men and he'd tried to kill her. On the other hand, he
hated Logan and could help her get even.
In all honesty, the choice wasn't that hard.
Rogue grinned slightly and ignored the flash of pain that followed.
"Let's do this again."
Creed raised an eyebrow.
"Yer not gonna call yer beloved Xavier t' bail ya out?" he asked,
Rogue shook her head.
"No. The way I see it, this is a good deal for the both of us - I get
even with Logan, an' you get laid on a regular basis without havin'
to spend money on some slut in a bar," Rogue explained, rather proud
that she could actually form a long, coherent sentence despite the
Creed looked at her and considered it for a few moments. Then he
"Yer a sneaky little one, aren't ya?"
Rogue just grinned impishly. Creed considered it for a few more
moments, then nodded.
"Sure. Why the hell not? Ya've got a deal, girl."
* * *