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FF: Slippery When Wet (2/6)

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  • Melissa Flores
    TITLE: Slippery When Wet AUTHOR : Melissa Flores EMAIL: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com GENRE: X-Men: The Movie, Wolverine/Rogue, ensemble. Storm/Gambit, Scott/Jean,
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 2, 2001
      TITLE: Slippery When Wet
      AUTHOR : Melissa Flores
      EMAIL: mistiec_flores@...

      GENRE: X-Men: The Movie, Wolverine/Rogue, ensemble. Storm/Gambit,
      Scott/Jean, Rogue/Augustus
      RATING: R for violence and language, and sexual situations, and MAJOR
      SUMMARY: While an isolated Logan tries to bring back an enchanted
      Rogue, Augustus has taken another. As the X-men scramble to find a way
      to defeat the wizard, Rogue is faced with the death of her friend, and
      forced to choose between her destiny, and her love.
      WARNING: This is a serious roller coaster, guys. There are a lot of
      falls and I'm pretty sure by the end of chapter three half of you will
      be ready to kill me. And after chapter five you'll all be wanting to
      lynch me. What I ask is that you reserve all hangings and death threats
      until you read the whole thing. :-) It's also a day long read, so I'm
      going to be posting a chapter a day, two if I feel I can, cause it's
      heavy stuff. :-)

      DISTRIBUTION: http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec


      Chapter Two

      He swallowed hard, watching as the women he had thought he had known
      lay in a corner, form silent, still, trembling ever so slightly. Every
      few minutes she would take a deep shuddering breath, haggard and hard,
      and so incredibly full of pain.

      He felt so powerless, so out of control, his heart planted permanently
      in his throat, still in the same position that she had left him in,
      after she had pushed him away and yelled at him in a voice not quite
      her own to not dare touch her.

      Swallowing, he licked his lips, trying desperately to get the words to
      come through his lips.


      She didn't respond, one hand reached out and scratching at the floor.


      Her eyes opened slightly, the moisture in the orbs surprising them with
      his intensity. She smiled slightly, the first emotion she had seen as
      her eyes connected with his own.

      "Logan," she said distinctly, with no drawl that had always caught at
      the bottom of her voice until now. "Logan. Lover."

      "Marie," he rasped, bending forward, crawling gently, scared to touch
      her, afraid of so much, so much more than he had ever been afraid of in
      his life.

      She came forward, crawling, hand over hand, until her face was inches
      from his own, until her eyes bore into his, he could see the flecks of
      darkness in the violet eyes, until her breath tickled, mingled with his

      In her eyes was pure desire, pure knowledge of her power of her him as
      he felt himself short of breath, found himself staring at her perfect
      lips, her perfect mouth, her violet eyes.

      "Logan," she whispered, and her voice turned distinctly British. "What
      are you going to do when she's completely gone?"

      He growled, falling back in a startled surprise, and Marie laughed
      harshly and suddenly, as quick as it had come, the laughter stopped and
      the woman reached for his hand, grabbing it, the alloy in his knuckles
      suddenly jumping in attention.

      Her fingers cupped his chin with incredibly strength, and he was
      helpless as she jerked his face to meet hers, mouth suddenly ravaging
      his in an intimate, searing kiss.

      He found himself falling back helplessly as he groaned, feeling Marie's
      hot tongue branding his, hands sliding over his in a savage gesture of
      possession, very angry, very desperate, and very Rogue.

      He gasped for breath, his mind and thoughts whirling and something in
      his mind clicked against the act, and he pushed her away with all the
      strength he could muster, and still it was not enough, as Marie's
      immense strength manifested itself as she held him down.

      His eyes lolled upward, his chest arched under her questing hands and
      her hot breath was suddenly under his ear, moist and heavy, whispering
      in a raspy, violent tone.

      "This is what you want, isn't it Logan?" he heard between gasps,
      between suckles and nudges as she straddled him, ground her hips
      against his hardening groin, as he thrust upward in a loss of control.
      "This was the reason. This is what you wanted. It's what she wanted."

      His eyes flew open, and his heart lurched, and in a moment of clarity
      he bucked her feverish body off of him, rolling with her until she was
      pinned beneath him, a howl of rage torn from his throat as the knives
      slid out and lay at her creamy white throat.

      "Get out of her," he growled.

      And suddenly the body beneath him stilled, and eyes blinked and teared,
      and a southern drawled tinged the honey voice as Marie's eyes focused
      on him, stopped fighting, so confused, so scared. "Logan? Logan... what
      am I- What are you- Oh God."

      "Marie!" And he slid off of her, gathering her close and shuddering
      with her trembling body. "I'm sorry, Rogue. I'm sorr-"

      But she didn't listen, she only closed her eyes and shivered, teeth
      chattering, tears eeking from her face as she whispered, "It's not you,

      But his last thought as he fought to control his aroused body, as he
      prayed for someone, anyone, to find them, was that maybe, just maybe,
      it was.


      There were many misconceptions about Jean, but seldom had it annoyed
      her. For many years she and Scott had been held up on pedestals by the
      entire school, for the simple reason that it had to be that way.

      Storm, the quiet nun-like goddess, was never discussed as fiercely.
      Rogue, was given allowances for her bursts of temper because of the
      personalities running rampant in her head. Logan punched holes in walls
      and Gambit blasted things and no one blinked twice.

      But if Jean or Scott even raised their voices, even looked at each
      other or someone else in a peculiar way suddenly, things were very

      It was a hard burden to live with, but one they had both accepted at
      young ages, knowing, without Charles having to tell them, that their
      lives weren't their own, but given to a cause, and subject to be
      sacrificed at any moment.

      Perhaps that was why she loved Scott with such incredible ardor,
      because no one in the world could possibly understand her as deeply as
      he could.

      Of course, the truly frightening thing was that in her there were
      depths that even he couldn't comprehend, a past fear of every living
      thing that had invaded her mind that had paralyzed her, driven her to
      near insanity.

      No one had seen her with that loss of control, no one had seen the day
      she sobbed in Charles' lap with relief when she was able to make the
      voices finally stop, no one was there when she refused to let anyone in
      her mind ever again.

      The urge to feel Scott's love for her, to feel it in her mind, had won
      her over, and even now he had no idea he had been her first deliberate

      Even now she fear the control, feared that the minds in her head would
      force her to panic, to feel what she felt then, what she feared most.

      What came from Rogue.

      Jean had never, ever read the turmoil in Rogue's mind, REALLY delved
      into it, and she never, ever would.

      She feared the darkness would overwhelm her, that she wasn't strong

      And yet here Charles was, eyes on her, mind in hers, asking the

      "Professor, you can't possibly think I could-"

      "Jean I believe you can. I believe you are the only one who can."

      Her eyes bore into his, tinged in moisture, her heart in her throat
      where she knew her strength should have been. Instead she felt the fear
      that had threatened to take the careful mask of security yet again.

      "Charles," she began slowly, thickly. "You obviously have the better

      "Jean, you need to accept this. I won't be around forever."

      She felt her heart lurch, her eyes floated down to study the floor as
      she nodded mutely.

      "Then you also know than eventually, you must take my place. All I need
      to know is if you're willing."

      "Oh, I'm willing, Charles. That's not..."

      *What scares you?* The thought invaded her mind, and her mouth went
      dry, a small, exasperated smile flitting across her perfect features
      before she raised and eyebrow and leaned back, fingers knotting
      together in a nervous gesture.

      *I don't believe... I have enough control yet.*

      *Neither did I, but I managed.*

      "But you're stronger," she interrupted. "And I-"

      "Have just as much potential, and you know it," Charles snapped, his
      eyes boring into hers. His kind gentle eyes grew firm, and he leaned
      forward, elbows on his knees, regarding her carefully. "Are you so
      afraid of yourself, Jean, that you'd let them die?"

      Her eyes closed at the judgment in his tone, and her breath slid out of
      her. There it was, laid out on the line, frankly, gently, but ever so
      truthfully, as Charles always put it for her.

      Rogue had once said Jean had peace in her eyes. The look in Rogue's
      anguished face as she slid her gloved fingertips down Jean's face had
      made her eyes water and her throat clog, but she didn't dare change
      Rogue's perception.

      People needed to believe she had peace, that she had hope.

      Even when her very world was teetering before her.

      "I'll do it," she finally whispered. "I'll find them. I won't fail

      "Wrong," Charles answered, cocking his head slightly, hands on hers in
      a comforting squeeze. "You will not fail yourself."

      And Jean took a shuddering breath, ignoring the insecurity of her ugly
      duckling childhood, ignoring her beating heart as she nodded hastily.

      There was no other option.

      She had to find them.


      Guilt was quite probably the worst feeling that he had ever

      It settled in the pit of his stomach, like a rock, and the usually
      stoic and tall leader sprawled forward on the table, watching the
      sleeping Remy with a trembling upper lip and a shuddering heart.

      He had let down his team, he had let them all down because he should
      have known.

      He should have known better than to let them go... he had trusted them
      too much, taken too little responsibility and because of them...

      He lost Storm.

      He lost Rogue.

      He lost Logan.

      And it was all the hands of a mad man that was so full of destructive
      power he had no idea what he was capable or next.

      Or how to stop him.

      It took everything in him to keep out even the possibility of running.

      "When are we finding her?"

      The accented voice came out of nowhere, and Scott lifted his head
      wearily to find Remy's eyes open, watching him.

      "Finding who?" he asked heavily.

      "Storm. Rogue. Logan."

      Scott looked back down, running his fingers through his bangs, which
      had fallen forward over his glasses, red slants in his tinted world.

      "I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

      Remy was quiet for a moment, just a moment, before he grimaced, pulling
      himself into a sitting position, looking at Scott.

      "The longer we wait, de longer they're in danger."

      "I know, Remy."

      "Then do something!"

      "What do you want me to DO?" Scott snapped angrily, head jerking up to
      meet his gaze head on. "There's no right answer to this one!"

      "But you were willing to leave 'em. Leave Storm and Rogue, two of the
      best team members we got-"

      "To save the team?" Cyclops interrupted, his voice hard and angered.
      "Yes, Remy. I WAS and I WILL if I have to."

      Remy's red eyes have never looked so angry, so fiery as he breathed
      hard, fighting to contain his emotion toward his leader.

      "That's not how to save them."

      "You don't think this is hurting me too, Remy? They are my friends."

      "Then act like it."

      "I can't afford to," Scott bit, knuckles white as his hand wrapped
      around the corner of his chair. "Not when I have the team to think of.
      I don't have that luxury. Please Remy. At least understand that."

      "Jean's using Cerebro."

      Scott's eyes flew open, his jaw dropping slightly as he swung his gaze
      onto Bobby Drake, as he stepped into the doorway, eyes moving
      hesitantly between Remy and Scott.

      "She... WHAT?!"

      "Right now," he confirmed. Ice cold hands slid through the man's bangs
      as he nodded toward the direction of the large tent. "I just... thought
      you might want to know."

      Scott closed his eyes, taking a haggard breath before opening them,
      hidden in the red visor, and pushing past the younger man, never even
      giving Remy a dismissing look as he fell into a jog that quickly became
      a run as he sprinted toward the tent that held the device that Jean had
      helped build, that had allowed Charles to channel Cerebro.

      His heart beat terribly in his chest, the sense of panic filling him as
      he remembered she used to dread the machine, but had always carried a
      fascination for it, a dangerous temptation. The last time she believed
      herself strong enough to channel her mind to control the fragmented
      senses and thoughts of everyone in the world at one time, it had hurt
      her deeply.

      Oh, God. She wasn't ready.

      His hand clumsily reached for the latch and throwing his body against
      the door, he flung himself inside, to find Charles Xavier sitting in
      his chair, staring at him placidly.

      "Scott, sit down please."

      He felt his throat full, his voice hoarse and raspy as he managed,
      "Professor is it true?"


      "She's not ready."

      "She's more than ready."

      Scott's hands clenched into fists, fear and anger and horror flooding
      his mind as he gazed down at the professor, at his father, refusing to
      sit, his heart beating steadily more fierce.

      "It'll HURT her."

      Charles let an eyebrow rise up on his forehead, his head cocked as he
      gazed at Scott with that unnerving stare that made Scott feel
      completely naked, devoid of any secrets or emotions.

      "Sit down, Scott," he said again, firmly, and it was more of a command
      and less of a suggestion, and with a sigh of helpless frustration, he
      sank down into his chair.

      Charles gave him a small, sad smile, before beginning. "Scott, you've
      led this team well."

      A harsh laugh negated that remark. "I don't think so."

      "I do," he repeated. "But at this moment we were facing an enemy that
      places games of the mind. If he has succeeded in turning Rogue, then we
      not only face a wizard, but our greatest enemy : our friend... our
      family. Now I can delve into Rogue, pull out what she needs to pull
      through. But Jean must find her."

      "Why Jean? Professor, you know she's not ready-"

      "If not now, then when, Scott? I won't be around forever."

      Again, Scott felt the lump in his throat that refused to go away. The
      professor had been saying that more and more often.

      There was a pause, and then the professor continued, "Jean will never
      test her limits of her mind, never reach her true potential unless she
      pushes herself."

      "Maybe she's not ready to push herself," he whispered, his voice an
      angered hoarse tone.

      Charles only regarded him, his voice incredibly even as he answered,
      "We no longer have the luxury of allowing the time it takes to make her
      ready, Scott."

      And in his eyes glinted a sadness that flickered for only a second, but
      it was a second that Scott's red tinted gaze caught, and it caused a
      shuddering of fear in his heart that made his heart skip a beat and his
      already full throat to almost close up completely.

      Something was wrong with the professor. Something was very wrong.

      And perhaps the most frightening thing of all...

      No one had bothered to tell him what it was.


      A deep breath in, and a deep breath out stilled her shaking hands
      slightly, but her furiously beating heart didn't lesson it's pace, and
      more than anything Jean wished that the fear in her heart that she had
      kept out for so long would just dissipate.

      She had felt Rogue before, had found her, a long five years ago when
      Rogue was barely a child, when all she had to contend with was the
      wildness of Wolverine and the fear of a young human boy who had given
      Marie her first and last kiss.

      It had nearly killed her, the pain in her mind after the senses that
      had been triggered and heightened had still made her shiver after all
      this time.

      But that was long ago, and she was different then... her powers had
      become channeled, had become stronger and more refined...

      She was more powerful.

      She could handle Rogue's mind... Rogue's heart....

      But the panic still flitted inside her heart as she stared at the
      unassuming metal that Charles had placed in her hands, her link to
      Cerebro at home, her link to the power she knew she could channel so
      well now.

      The self confidence everyone assumed she had made her straighten her
      shoulders, made her focus her mind and take a deep breath and place the
      contraption over her head.

      But when her mind focused, she found herself scrambling away from the
      darkness and chaos that had to be Rogue, so afraid to feel it, and
      instead found herself latching onto something just as fearful, but much
      easier to take because she had felt it before.

      Memories and chaos and pain and doctors and knives and screaming and

      Her eyes flew open as she slid out of the chair, her mind splintering
      with pain as she bit her lip and her hands flew upwards, pulling the
      metal spiderlike piece off of her head and flinging away from her with

      But her mind retained the information, and she was thankful, so
      thankful, for just a moment, that she had escaped Rogue's mind, escaped
      the darkness, and at the same time she was so disappointed-

      She took a breath, steadying her mind and stood, her form shaky as she
      walked toward the door where she knew they would be waiting.

      Her hand pulled it open, her eyes caught the men and women waiting, and
      immediately her eyes found the red lenses of her husband, his face
      tight and drawn and incredibly scared.

      She didn't blame him one bit.

      But her tired face had a faint smile, as she gave the group what she
      hoped was their first piece of good news.

      "I found Logan... and he has Marie with him." Sighs of relief were
      heard all around, as she continued. "They're holed up in a cabin on
      the other side of the ice box. But from the looks of Logan's mind...
      she's in bad shape."

      Charles pursed his lips, but that was all the emotion he would allow,
      as the smiles on the faces of the other's faltered slightly.

      "And... Storm?" Remy's voice drifted above the others, as he pushed his
      way through the group, his face hopeful, sad, hand holding onto his
      injured left shoulder as he swallowed.

      Jean felt her heart constrict slightly. "She's... not with them."
      Remy's eyes cast downward as she took another deep breath and turned to
      Scott. "We don't have much time."

      "Right." The tone was slightly hoarse, but his face betrayed none of
      the emotion she knew must have been rampant in his eyes as he turned,
      immediately pointing out the team members assigned to the jet.
      "Jubilee, Bobby, let's go."

      "I'm going too." Remy's face was resolute, and when Scott was about to
      disagree, Charles nodded slightly.

      "Scott, let him come," Jean said, her eyes on Charles', who moved
      slightly and then turned in his wheelchair, moving into the room she
      had just come out of.

      She saw the way the left hand trembled, the way his head leaned forward

      Her chest rose and fell once, and she closed her eyes, took a breath,
      and turned back to the group.

      "Let's go."


      When he was a child his father called him a weakling, a young splinter
      of a child who would amount to nothing...

      A man with no destiny.


      Augustus felt the splinter of pain invade his consciousness again and
      he took a deep breath, hands gripping the side of his chair as he
      focused his energy, used all his years of study that still did not
      prepare for the invasion, for the strong, powerful, completely
      independent personality that carried so many conflicting minds with it.

      How had she borne it?

      And yet... it was so incredibly amusing and astonishing: every single
      entity she had managed to mold together, to shift and make her own,
      each building up to the piece of the puzzle that was Rogue.

      With each mind she had learned to control: the strength that came from
      Logan, the wisdom that came from Magneto, the heart that came from
      Marie, Rogue had become more and more the person her destiny had
      alluded to.

      A destiny that he had been so sure of. A destiny that should have been
      sacrificed and given to him.

      So why was she still fighting? And why was he allowing her to fight
      him, instead of taking the mind that should have so completely belonged
      to him?

      He could feel her drumming through his veins, whispering in his
      thoughts, whispering things that she should not have been whispering to
      him, making him want things that were not supposed to be wanted.

      He had wanted the mind, not the women. The game had been a cerebral
      game, and the seduction was merely a tantalizing side note.

      But her eyes glimmered to him and her body shifted under his in his
      dreams, her lips swollen from the kisses he had yet to give her, and
      her hips arching as she drifted toward an orgasm he had never given

      And he hated Logan - the man they called Wolverine - with an intense...
      unabiding passion. Hated him as much as Marie wanted him, as Rogue
      needed him.

      He wanted her mind... he wasn't supposed to want the body too... the
      body was inconsequential... it had been her powers that were his

      Not her.

      Never her.

      But her warmth washed over him and he closed his eyes, breathing in
      steadily as her memories flashed through his mind, as her life flashed
      over him as he saw herself through his eyes, in his body, and it filled
      him with a pulsating need... with a twisted desire to possess her
      mind... body... and soul.

      And the body was currently being held by the man who he most despised,
      a man with a gift he had never wanted or needed, took for granted, a
      man who might as well have been called animal.

      A man that owned Marie body and soul... a man who Augustus would have
      barely looked at-

      Had Marie not been Rogue's heart.

      And he wanted Rogue.

      He wanted Rogue badly.

      His chest rose and fell and his body arched as another wave of Rogue
      induced nausea flit through him, feeding him, making him feel alive.

      He shouldn't have cared what happened to the body when he had the mind.

      Perhaps the problem was that the mind was totally not his... perhaps he
      needed the body to complete the mind.

      Yes... that was the solution, that was the reason why he longed to feel
      the body under his... feel the mind rushing through him into the
      body... feel an intimacy that had eluded him for a lifetime.

      It was nothing else.

      It could be nothing else.


      The violet eyes were never more vibrant as she regarded him, and Logan
      had never felt so aware of the fear gnawing away at his heart as he did
      the moment he realized there was no fear in Rogue's eyes.

      Her body would convulse slightly, but her eyes were aware and every
      minute it seemed she was getting stronger, at times never even looking
      at him and other times staring at him as if there was no one else who

      "Logan," she began, her hand sliding to her shoulder as she slid his
      jacket off of her shoulders.

      "Marie- no. You need that-"

      "Who the hell is Marie?" she asked frankly, her eyes riveted around the
      room. "This doesn't belong to me. This isn't mine." Her eyes clouded in
      confusion and suddenly her mouth smirked in mirth and she raised an
      eyebrow in amusement. "Did ya break in, Logan?"

      The twinge of Southern in her voice made his heart beat slightly, and
      he could only force himself to swallow and come forward, wrapping the
      jacket around her once more.

      "You'll catch cold," he said gruffly. "Last thing we need is you
      getting sick before we get you better."

      "Better?" she repeated, her voice smooth as molasses as she slid her
      hands up the leather of his uniformed torso. "I am better, Logan. I
      can... she can... FEEL YOU."

      Her mouth was suddenly on his throat and he felt his eyes close as he
      let out an uncontrolled groan, grabbing her arms, and pushing her away
      before he could be sucked into the same trap as before.

      "Marie- get a HOLD of yourself. I know you can."

      Her eyes blinked and she once again looked steadily into his eyes,
      trying to get her bearings as her head sunk down against his shoulder.

      "You're my heart, Logan," he heard her muffled whisper. "Hold me,
      Logan. You're my heart."

      His beating organ shuddered at the words and his eyes glistened as he
      fought the urge to panic.

      He couldn't leave her alone...

      But he couldn't just stay here... Rogue needed help... Marie needed

      She shivered, and suddenly her eyes were so clear as she looked at him,
      a faint, scared smile on her lips.

      "Logan this is ... it's never been like this... he's... the others...
      they never tried... he's eating me inside out."

      His eyes drifted closed and he swallowed, pulling her closer to him,
      holding her tight.

      She swallowed, her voice shaky, her eyes wide open as she continued,
      "I'll be okay... I can do what I did with the others... I can... Logan
      I'm afraid to absorb him."

      "Just do to him what you did to the others, Rogue."

      Her mouth quirked into a smirk. "That's not an option."

      The chill than ran through him was quickly followed by a startled growl
      when the door suddenly pounded.


      His eyes narrowed, and he gently pulled Marie to the side, covering her
      with the jacket. "Stay here," he whispered. When she nodded shakily, he
      gave her a quick brush of his lips against her forehead, before turning
      toward the door, the claws extending as he crouched in front of her.

      "LOGAN!" The door pounded again, and suddenly a red blast melted the
      lock and four black clad individuals burst into the room, led by
      Cyclops, his hand raised to his visor.

      Logan froze, his heart forgetting to beat for just a second, as his
      eyes descended on his teammates.

      "Logan," Jean said against desperately, coming forward, hands on his
      forearms as she looked at him, then behind him to the scared figure
      shivering. "Are you-"

      His heart jolted with relief, and it was quickly replaced with anger as
      he grabbed her, the blades sliding in as she jumped in his grasp. "What
      the hell took you so long?"

      Jean cocked an eyebrow, gave him a sad frown, and he swallowed, shaking
      his head as he let her go.

      Remy was already at Rogue's side, his dark eyes vibrant with moisture
      as he took a breath, reaching out to her with one gloved hand.

      "Don't touch her!" Logan growled, stepping away from Jean and back to
      Rogue's side.

      Remy gave him a puzzled look and Scott was immediately going to speak
      when he continued hastily, "she's fighting. She's lost the touch but I
      don't know how long-"

      "It'll last." Rogue's voice broke through Logan's even, tense tone, and
      her hands gripped Remy's, letting her pull him up. "Gambit," she
      breathed, and her head cocked and she smiled a devilish smile that
      didn't belong to her.

      She turned to look at Scott and the leader sucked in his breath, taking
      a step back in surprise. "Her eyes."

      "They're violet," Jean whispered, coming forward, her dark eyes
      narrowing in concentration as Rogue turned, her head swiveling to meet
      her gaze head on. Jean laid a gentle hand on her naked shoulder, and
      at the contact, Rogue looked down.


      "Hello, Rogue."

      "Hi, Jean," she said, and her hand came up and entangled their fingers.

      Logan watched, hands in fists at his sides as Rogue lifted Jean's
      gloved hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm. Eyes were riveted on
      the scene as her face leaned forward and she whispered in Jean's ear.

      No one was close enough to hear, but everyone saw Jean's face go white
      and how she immediately let go of Rogue's hand, running into Scott's
      chest on the way back and blindly reaching for his fingers.

      Logan gritted his teeth, pulling Rogue away from Remy and scooped her
      up against his chest. "Told you not the touch her, Jean," he answered
      gruffly, moving past her. "She's fighting the bastard in her head."

      Scott's head jerked to watch Logan and Remy go out the door, and then
      turned to Jean, hands cradling her head tenderly. "You okay? What did
      she say?"

      Jean seemed shaken, but she only took in a breath, gave her husband a
      tight smile and shrugged slightly. "Nothing important."


      "Come on," she interrupted, pulling him outside the small, freezing
      cabin, head ringing and body trembling from the words that had been
      whispered into her thoughts, in Rogue's lilting tongue.

      *Had to look for him instead of me, didn't you? Afraid of the darkness
      Jean? Coward.*


      Melissa Flores aka Misty

      You all know that I am a pacifist. So I am not interested in war in any way. But you know what? When the revolution comes, I will have to destroy you all. Not you Joey.
      ~Phoebe, The One with the Ride Along

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