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FIC: Conversations Take Three: Afternoon: 1/1: PG-13: St. John, Rogue, Scott, Jean, St. John/Bobby, others

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  • Jenn
    Title: Conversations Take Three: Afternoon Author: jenn (jenn@igg-tx.net) Codes: St. John, Logan, Rogue, Scott, Jean, St.John/Bobby, others (pre-L/R)
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 25, 2001
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      Title: Conversations Take Three: Afternoon
      Author: jenn (jenn@...)
      Codes: St. John, Logan, Rogue, Scott, Jean, St.John/Bobby, others
      (pre-L/R)
      Rating: PG-13
      Series: On Love and Lust at Mutant High #12
      Summary: The day gets worse--St. John and co run interference for Rogue.
      More stuff by our Spy-Master Johnny.
      Author Notes: My canon on the Mansion sucks, but it just seems logical
      they'd have some kind of security in place, you know? Thanks to Sare for
      primary beta.
      Archiving: List, otherwise ask

      *****

      "Rogue, may I speak to you for a few minutes?"

      Dr. Grey at the rec room door looking concerned just meant bad things.
      Period. And just by her expression, he could guess the bad thing.

      St. John wondered who told her, but it really didn't matter, and in any
      case, the damage was done. Jubes and Kitty, of course, had guessed when
      they unpacked and noted the look of Rogue's bed, but hell, they'd keep
      their mouths shut. Bobby wouldn't breathe a word of anything that could
      possibly bring Rogue to the attention of the Fearless Leaders, and
      Remy--well, St. John knew Remy, knew he wouldn't turn on her that way. So
      it wasn't one of them, so it really didn't matter.

      But it did, and it bothered him. He knew the tone of Dr. Grey's voice
      didn't bode well for Rogue, saw her eyes widen just a little as she
      untangled herself from him and Jubilee (and St. John didn't miss Dr. Grey's
      wince at how the five of them were sprawled on the couch with Rogue).
      Rogue slowly walked over, normal as always, but St. John had seen the
      expression on Dr. Grey's face and knew exactly what had happened.

      They'd found out Rogue wasn't sleeping in her room. He guessed Rogue
      probably knew that too.

      "Johnny," whispered Jubilee, and he nodded, glancing around quickly to see
      Dr. Grey and Rogue had left the room. "Kitty, go with him--can you phase
      him through with you?"

      Kitty, startled, straightened and elbowed Remy, who grunted something while
      smoking through yet another--fiftieth? shit, a lot, he was
      stressed--cigarette.

      "Jubes, I don't have that kind of control--"

      No, St. John did not want to go through a wall and end up stuck in it. Of
      all the ways he'd considered that he could die, that one hadn't shown up on
      the acceptable list by a long shot. Not that he considered it more than,
      say, once a day, when it hit him yet again that he was training for life of
      going out and fighting people who would get quite a kick out of killing
      him.

      Of course, he wasn't fixated on the idea or anything. But no death by
      dephasing in walls. Not the way he wanted to go. Especially considering
      how bad he'd look in his casket.

      "Come on--if they go into the office, I'll need you to run interference.
      Let's go."

      Nodding slowly--and possibly still a little shaken by Jubes'
      suggestion--she got to her feet and followed him down the hall--careful,
      listen for the footsteps--toward the offices, down the main hall. Good.
      Not too much trouble, not with all the damn plants just growing away in all
      the halls. And what the hell was that guy's name anyway?

      Silly thoughts, but they entertained him while they snuck down the main
      hall and slowly and carefully toward Mr. Summers' office--

      --oh shit, it was the elevator. They were going down to Dr. Grey's office.

      Both St. John and Kitty came to a dismayed stop and ducked behind a pillar
      as Dr. Grey put in the codes and the door obediently opened. Just barely,
      St. John could see Rogue watching, almost casually, as Dr. Grey's fingers
      flicked over the keys--well, Rogue had the new code now.

      But they sure as hell didn't.

      "What the hell do we do now?" Kitty hissed, pressed beside him to the
      pillar. St. John considered all the options.

      "Who else would have the codes?"

      "Teachers," Kitty answered, frowning, then her face lit up. "Logan does--"

      St. John actually froze--well, not as in cold, though his body certainly
      felt that way the second the sense of Kitty's words penetrated.

      "Have you lost your fucking mind?" he hissed. "You wanna send Logan down
      there? Rogue'd kill us, and he sure as hell ain't gonna tell us without
      wantin' to find out what we want with them. And besides, that'll take too
      long to find him--we gotta be down there *now*."

      Plan. He needed a plan. He was good at plans--reason over emotion, think
      things through. Go to option one.

      "Kitty, can you phase down to the next level and bring the elevator up?"

      "It's coded on all levels--I checked it out while the codes still worked.
      And don't ask about phasing through the elevator door--it stays bottom
      until it's called--damn good security--hold it." She blinked, obviously
      thinking something through. The dark eyes narrowed, and St. John held his
      breath. "Okay. Got an idea. Remy. Be right back." Down the polished
      floor she ran, phasing straight through the wall in her way, and St. John
      slowly came out from behind the pillar, looking at the elevator. Remy
      couldn't have the new codes--they had enough sense to keep stuff like that
      from a semi-reformed thief. Okay. So there it was. No codes. Elevator,
      only way down, no codes. But there had to be a way.

      "...and no codes." Kitty's voice was desperate, and he wished, just a
      little quieter. No need to advertise, babe. Really.

      "Cher, Remy don't--"

      "St. John--"

      Shit, of course not.

      Elevators only way down. Which was security. Keep everything safe. Of
      course, also down there were the labs, the medical facilities. Big things.
      Things that wouldn't fit in the elevator. Hangar for that, had to have an
      outside entrance somewhere, but hell if St. John knew where and doing an
      inch by inch search was out of the question--and hell, it'd take forever to
      get over there.

      Hmm. Things that could go boom down there. Big boom, gotta run fast,
      maybe the computers go haywire and can't use the elevator. Maybe a fire or
      a chemical spill. Things--

      "Stairs."

      Both Kitty and Remy blinked, staring at him, then Remy suddenly blinked
      again, thoughtfully, nodding. St. John took two steps, coming very close
      to picking Remy up and shoving him against the wall in hopes the answer
      would come just that much faster. No, not a good idea. But a tempting
      one.

      "You've cased this whole place and you know every door. Which ones
      wouldn't work?"

      *****

      It took two minutes--they weren't far away and St. John stared at the
      almost hidden panel before opening it up and checking it out. Coded. Fuck

      "Kitty, can you phase down one level and find this? They wouldn't code the
      inner doors--these are emergency based, take too long if they had to punch
      through every time. Can you get down like that?"

      Kitty nodded slowly--thinking through her control, he could see her
      centering herself.

      "Eight foot ceilings--when I get through, it's gonna be a fall."

      "You know how to fall." And she did--you didn't get through the first day
      of training without learning how to fall. Relax your body, let nature take
      it's course. Then get your ass back up and go. He'd seen her go through
      eight foot thick metal and had seen her go through her own bed. She could
      do this.

      "I know how to fall."

      It was a slightly surreal and fascinating experience to watch Kitty phase
      over, sinking in--her control wasn't great yet and it was probably a little
      spooky for her to do it at all, so it went faster than probably she was
      ready for, and her head disappeared--then nothing. Like quicksand on fast
      forward. He and Remy both held their breath, waiting, waiting,
      waiting--and in fifteen seconds, he heard the magnetic locks flip over and
      Kitty was smiling. And panting. But smiling definitely.

      "Perfect, babe."

      It was only four flights--Dr. Grey's office was on the second below level
      with the medlab, and they emerged a little disoriented, staring down the
      hallways trying to decide which way to go.

      "Rogue--" It was Mr. Summers, and he didn't sound happy. Oh shit.

      Carefully, St. John and Kitty snuck toward the voices--easy enough, Mr.
      Summers had a very carrying voice. Stopped at the office door and St. John
      carefully peeked in.

      In normal terms, it would probably be called a lab. Yes, it had a desk and
      chair and more shelves than St. John even wanted to think about, full of
      frightening amounts of massive books full of long Latin words that named
      diseases, disorders, and other sundry. But it was also where Dr. Grey did
      her own projects. A good lab table, a selection of some very interesting
      chemical compounds that he had an urge to check out. Microscope. Doctor
      things.

      Kitty leaned over his shoulder to check it out as well and he adjusted his
      balance back to his heels and grabbed the doorframe with one hand--careful,
      babe, we so don't wanna be caught.

      Dr. Grey, and Mr. Summers were nearer the door, and St. John supposed that
      if they hadn't been so totally focused on Rogue, they might have just
      sensed him--because shit, he was less than four feet away. Rogue was
      curled up in a chair, looking less like herself--looking--God.

      Oh God, what the fuck had they been saying to her?

      On one hand, he understood--Rogue was with her teachers, her guardians, the
      people who fed and clothed and housed her, and she didn't take that
      lightly. And years of conditioning--years and years and years of
      conditioning--that meant that the word teacher, guardian, was synonymous
      with respect, with being right. She was Rogue, but she was also an
      eighteen year old girl being confronted by the only true authorities in her
      life, the ones that decided what she ate, what classes she took, and what
      her training would entail. For all intents and purposes, her parents, and
      she didn't take that lightly either. So she sat in that chair and listened
      because even Logan in her head couldn't quite break eighteen years of that
      kind of mindset.

      Though he really wished he could. Really wished Logan would wake up right
      this second.

      "Rogue, we only want what's best for you." Dr. Grey, seated in another
      chair, had leaned a little forward, and her expression was all
      worry--honest worry. He didn't doubt for a second that she believed
      whatever the hell it was she was telling Rogue.

      That didn't make it any easier to forgive though. Not with Rogue looking
      like that.

      "I understand you think you have feelings for Logan. And that--that you
      can somehow coax him into reciprocating his feelings--by doing this."

      By sleeping in his room? Sleeping? Of course, they wouldn't assume that
      she was just sleeping, that Logan was worried about her, because they'd
      lived with her nightmares so long they really didn't realize--in that
      forest for trees way--what the problem was. Or that there was a problem at
      all. They assumed that Rogue had crawled into bed with Logan and the two
      were fucking like bunnies. Which he really wouldn't put past Rogue, in all
      honesty--but not Logan's style.

      No, on short acquaintance, St. John just didn't think that Logan was gonna
      combine Rogue's bad nights with relationship sex. Or even casual sex. So
      this didn't say much about their opinion of their own teammate--or Rogue,
      for that matter.

      "But Rogue--he's years older than you are. Perhaps decades--and he is not
      the type to stay in one place for very long, even should--something--happen
      between you."

      "Dr. Grey--"

      "Jean, Rogue. I'm not speaking to you as your teacher."

      Rogue's back straightened, eyes going wide. Getting a little strength from
      that.

      "Oh? Summoning me out of the rec room wasn't that? Then why the hell am I
      here?"

      Mr. Summers winced, but merely waited as Dr. Grey frowned, tapping her
      manicured fingers neatly on the arm of her chair.

      "This isn't an issue of conduct, Rogue. We aren't here to try and restrict
      you--"

      "I don't need to hear this, Dr. Grey. If you'll excuse me--" Discomfort
      on every line of her body--she wanted to be gone, she wanted to be gone
      now, and even from the door, he could see her increased respiration, the
      way she flexed her hands in her lap, the shift of her legs. But it was
      conditioning that held--she couldn't walk out on them in cold blood.
      Angry, yes, and he thought she very well might be, but under it all--just
      that hint of uncertainty that she covered so well with them, with her
      friends. That hint that adults, somehow, could always smell on you like
      some sort of weird perfume.

      "Rogue, you do need to hear this." And that was Mr. Summers now, speaking
      for the first time. Leaning forward a little, elbows on knees, deep in his
      most serious look and mood. Tone shifting--he wasn't into the friend
      bullshit Jean was trying to pull. He was all business. "After the
      incident with Remy, you understand our concerns on the matter. Remy was
      injured quite badly--"

      It snapped over then--he could actually see it, when she straightened her
      back, head coming up--they hit a vulnerable spot with such accuracy that
      even though he understood their reasoning, he hated them for it, for
      pulling out one slip in six months--fuck, one slip that wasn't even her
      fault. She didn't need this.

      "He was unconscious for twelve and a half hours and was pretty willing to
      try again if I was interested." A pause, then her voice changed, cooling
      down as quickly as it'd flared. She was keeping her temper. "Your
      concerns are noted, but whatever goes on between me and Logan behind his
      door is my business and his. Age of consent and all. I appreciate your
      concern, I do. But I'd prefer you stayed out of my private life." She
      stood up--fingers still flexing, but she was back in control of herself.
      She was Rogue again, not frightened by anything--probably remembering she
      had Logan only a few floors away, and shit, wouldn't he just flip to hear
      this conversation? God, so glad, so glad they hadn't gone to him. This
      was bad. Logan here would qualify as Worse.

      "Rogue--"

      "What are you worried about? That I'll fuck him or that he'll take
      advantage of me?" Rogue shook her head, eyes shutting briefly, before she
      began to walk by. "I'm not gonna discuss it, Cyke. So just quit."

      "I don't want to see you in the isolation ward again, Rogue. That
      frightened us all badly. We didn't know--we didn't know if you'd make it
      out whole."

      Rogue's body went perfectly still and St. John watched the expression on
      her face shift, her eyes go down for just a second. A second of weakness
      that he knew they caught.

      "You have no right," she breathed. Didn't move.

      "We sat through it, Rogue. How much do you remember of what happened?"

      Rogue remembered damn little. Remembered Remy touching her, remembered the
      flush of sensory information, remembered seeing Jubes briefly--first clear
      moment, she said, was snapping back out with Jubilee sitting with her,
      trying to talk her out, talk her down. Broken fingers, a sprained ankle,
      she'd been shocked to find the injuries, he remembered her staring at her
      hands, at her feet, stripping down to the skin to categorize the damage to
      her body. No, Rogue didn't have any clear memories, and St. John had
      always thought that was a good thing, remembering how that room had looked
      with her curled up in it.

      "If you'd gotten lose--what would have happened?" Mr. Summers stood up,
      and there was honest worry in his voice. "You could have injured not just
      yourself, but others as well. We're concerned, because it isn't just your
      private life--your actions do affect others. Not just you."

      If she hadn't been locked up, it probably wouldn't have happened at all.
      They all knew that, but for the first time, he wondered if she knew that.
      And one look at her face told her that she didn't--shit, shit, shit, Logan
      needed to know, he needed to know yesterday, before this conversation could
      take place.

      And she needed to be out of there, now, right now, before anything else
      could happen, before they got another thought into her head that could
      potentially unsettle her again.

      Backing away, St. John crouched a little away from the door--they were
      saying more now, telling her what happened that day, things he didn't even
      know because they'd been the only witnesses. Things that hurt her to hear,
      grounding into her the difference, why she had to be more careful than the
      rest of them, she had to be--

      Fuck them. They weren't gonna do this to her.

      "Kitty." Hoped she could hear the whisper.

      "I'm thinking--fuck, where's a telepath when you need one?"

      He was utterly relieved she was following his train of thought so well.
      Taking a breath, he began to think. Walking in would stop it, but St. John
      didn't think that Rogue would take that too well. And then, somehow, Dr.
      Grey and Mr. Summers would find out about the door trick and shit, they
      might need that again. Shit, shit, shit. Another breath. Think, St.
      John. Think. There's a way. A distraction. They needed a distraction.

      Well, they had stairs for a reason, after all.

      "Kitty, find the fire detector."

      Blinking, she stared at him as he straightened. Gave him a long look, then
      nodded quickly.

      "Johnny--"

      He grinned, feeling the rush of heat that he called up--by will, no
      emotional tangles required. Very nice. Control.

      "It'll be just a little fire."

      Very little.

      The End

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
      www.geocities.com/seperis
      www.wolverineandrogue.com/seperis

      --Sociopaths are people too. And they generally enjoy life more.--Sare on
      Logan During Email Beta of "Illusions Part III"

      --There's a difference between logan liking the occational kill and him
      practically writing a treatise on how it's the perfect solution to nearly
      every problem under the sun...--Sare on Logan's sociopathic tendencies
      during AIM chat, same beta

      --"Have you ever found yourself so mad at someone that you had to either
      fuck them or kill them?"--Logan on being reasonable (A Reasonable
      Compromise by Fyrdrakken)

      -- "Oh, that. I *mostly* like women � I'm just willing to be flexible
      every now and then. Doesn't bother me any."--Logan on sex (A Reasonable
      Compromise by Fyrdrakken)
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