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FIC: Blackout (3/?)

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  • jmmadigan@webtv.net
    Disclaimer, etc., in Prologue ~*~*~*~*~ The sound of screaming, laughing children is not my preferred alarm clock. Actually, if it were up to me, mornings
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 29, 2001
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      Disclaimer, etc., in Prologue


      The sound of screaming, laughing children is not my preferred alarm
      clock. Actually, if it were up to me, mornings would be illegal and
      everyone would get up whenever they felt like it. And those kids were
      just about on my last nerve. I'd warned them time and time again about
      running screaming through the halls at the crack of dawn when SOME
      people were still trying to sleep. If they made me get out of my nice,
      warm bed ...

      It was at this point in my mental rant that I realized my nice, warm bed
      was moving. It was breathing, actually. With a yelp, I sat straight up,
      meeting Logan's equally startled eyes.

      "What?" he mumbled.

      Groggily, I looked around, wincing at the light. We were still on the
      roof, but now it was bright and sunny. "I fell asleep," I said.

      I've never heard Logan say the word "duh," but that's what his
      expression said, anyway. "We both did."

      "Yeah -- no, I mean, I fell asleep. I didn't have the nightmare again."

      He groaned as he stood up, stretching. "That's a good thing, right?"

      "It's great," I said, grinning. "You make a good pillow."

      "Oh?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked, and I felt myself flushing.

      "Um ... yeah. But I guess it wasn't that great for you ... erm, being a
      pillow, I mean." I knew my face must be bright red, so I walked casually
      to the side of the roof and watched some of the kids having impromptu
      races around the yard. In my opinion, it was cosmically unfair for Logan
      to be able to make me this tongue-tied with one little word and a smirk.

      I felt him come up beside me, but I didn't look at him.


      I sighed. He was the only one who called me by that name, and most
      often, he called me "kid." In my fantasies, he always called me Marie,
      in a sort of breathless growl as he ... Dammit, Rogue. Mind. Gutter.

      OK, where was I? Right. There was a long pause as he waited for me to
      respond, but I couldn't seem to find something witty to say, and I
      definitely didn't want to say anything too serious.

      Finally he said quietly, "I haven't slept that well in years."

      Shocked, I looked at him, and we stood there staring at each other. I
      don't know, we might've stood there all day if we hadn't been

      "I've been looking for you," Scott said. I watched as he took in our
      appearance. Rumpled hair and clothes, me in my pajamas and elephant
      slippers and Logan in sweatpants, a T-shirt and no shoes. We must have
      looked ridiculous, but Scott didn't laugh. I wasn't psychic, but I could
      feel his disapproval all the way across the roof.

      I cleared my throat. "Well, you found me. What's up?"

      He stared at us for another moment before he spoke again. "Could you
      take over my lit class today? Jean and I have some things to do in

      "Sure." I went back to the bench and started folding my blanket.

      "Did you get enough sleep?" Scott knew about the nightmares. When he was
      my teacher, sometimes he would send me out of class on an "errand" for
      him so I could go take a nap.

      "Yes, Dad." I glanced at Logan, who was staring strangely at Scott and
      I, and I grinned. "More than usual, actually."

      That made Logan smile, a cocky grin aimed at Scott, who (despite his
      glasses) somehow managed to glare back.

      I rolled my eyes. "I'll just go, and let you boys get out the measuring
      stick," I drawled, walking away as they stared at me with twin
      expressions of shock. If they kept that up, was going to have to start
      calling them Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

      It wasn't a bad way to make an exit.


      Logan and I were eating lunch together a few days later when he finally
      asked me about Russell. I had expected to get the third degree before
      then, but I still hadn't decided what to tell Logan.

      "Tell me about this guy."

      I knew who he meant, of course, but I wanted him to say it. "You'll have
      to narrow that down for me a bit," I said.

      "Your ... boyfriend." He growled that with enough disgust to make me
      giggle. It also prompted me to be honest with him.

      "Russell isn't my boyfriend," I told him. "He's just a good friend."

      "But One-Eye said ..."

      "Everybody assumes that we're an item, and I just let them think that,"
      I said. I didn't like the look on his face, so I rushed to continue.
      "When he gets back, I want you to meet him. He's in London right now,
      doing ... work of some kind. I don't know, he works for the stock
      market, or at the stock market, or doing something financial, and --"

      "Wait," he interrupted. "Why do you let everyone think he's your

      "Well ..." I shifted in my seat. "The thing is, even though my skin is
      dangerous, there are still guys who are interested in me."

      "I've seen that Cajun bastard sniffing around you," he said.

      "Logan! Keep your voice down," I gasped, looking around. Jubilee, at the
      next table, waggled her eyebrows at me and smirked. Kitty, next to her,
      looked shocked. Everyone else was pretty much ignoring us.

      I turned back to Logan. "Remy -- as you so charmingly put it -- sniffs
      around all the women. It's just the way he is. It doesn't mean
      anything." He started to say something, but I spoke over his protest.
      "Some of the guys scare me."

      He scowled. "Who? Dammit, Marie, what'd they do to you?"

      "No! No, not like that," I said hastily. "They scare me because they're
      not careful. About my skin. When I first came here, I dated a boy for a
      while. Bobby. And he wasn't careful. He touched my arm once, just for a
      second before I could pull away. He was in the med bay for a week."

      "Do I scare you, too?" he asked quietly.

      Boy, was that a loaded question. But I answered it in the context he was
      asking. "Logan, you've survived Rogue's Touch of Death twice. I think I
      can trust you, of all people, to be careful around me. Besides, I'm used
      to having you in my head. If you touched me, what would I get? More
      nightmares ... a stronger craving for cold beer and cigars? At least
      there wouldn't be this really scary fantasy involving me and a ..." I
      trailed off, deciding for Bobby's health I probably shouldn't continue
      that sentence.

      Much to my shock, Logan was all flushed. He looked a bit ...
      embarrassed. I would've paid a fortune to know what he was thinking. My
      fingers itched to touch him, just to peek at what was in his head. But,
      of course, it would be wrong to do that.

      Sometimes being a good girl sucks.


      We fell into a pattern for the next few weeks. Despite the fact that we
      were both busy, we spent quite a bit of time together during the day. We
      ate all our meals together, and he would let me hang out in his room
      doing my homework. He told me a little bit about his trip. He hadn't
      discovered much of anything, and he didn't like to talk about it much.

      I had several more of the really bad nightmares, and each time, he would
      show up in the kitchen right after me with a couple more blankets and a
      pillow. We would go to the roof with our hot chocolate, and even though
      Mother Nature had finally realized that December was supposed to be
      cold, we were always plenty warm wrapped up in the blankets and each

      Sometimes we would talk, but mostly we just sat. And we always fell
      asleep there. A week before Christmas we woke up surrounded by snow, and
      it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

      I never asked how Logan always knew when I'd had a nightmare, but he
      never missed one. I started to forget what it was like to be on that
      roof by myself in the middle of the night.

      I tried not to dwell on how well everything in my life was going. Call
      me superstitious, but when I get that close to being perfectly happy,
      it's a sure sign that disaster's on the way.




      LOGAN: You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?
      SCOTT: If I had to do that, she wouldn't be my girl.
      ~~ "X-Men"
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