FF: Slippery When Wet (5/6)
- TITLE: Slippery When Wet
AUTHOR : Melissa Flores
GENRE: X-Men: The Movie, Wolverine/Rogue, ensemble. Storm/Gambit,
RATING: R for violence and language, and sexual situations, and MAJOR
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. :-)
He had woken up alone.
Panic had seemed a very viable option, as his eyes roamed over the room
where nothing was out of place but his black uniform, thrown
halfhazardly on the floor.
Rogue's night gown was neatly folded and placed on her side of the bed,
the pillow looked fluffed, and her smell, mingled with the lingering
smell of sex and sweat, was fading. Her black uniform, her boots, and
the long black coat was gone.
He called out her name, heart suddenly pounding as he threw off the
covers, pulling on his boxers, searching the tent.
His voice was hoarse, and in that split second, when no one answered
but the winds that brought snow in through the flap at the door, he
grew absolutely terrified.
His eyes flew toward to the door and saw Remy burst in, red eyes dark,
moist. Logan stood, hands clenched in fists, coming forward and
grabbing Remy by the arms, eyes narrowed.
"Where is she?"
Remy was gasping, long, in indrawn breathes, and he smelled of sweat
and blood. "She took off."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE TOOK OFF?!"
"She took off, Logan! She attacked Kitty and Jubilee and left. I
followed her as far as the ice box but then the damn thing opened and
closed up behind her. She went back to him."
Logan gasped, chest constricted as his grip tightened on Remy's
shoulders. "No," he breathed, as he shook his head emphatically. "She
wouldn't do that."
"SHUT UP! She wouldn't just leave! Not after-"
"Logan." The feminine voice was quiet, but it was firm enough to
squelch his protest. His panicked stance did not escape her, but Jean,
her glasses glinting the dark light, barely looked at the rumpled
sheets, and the half-naked man. "Get dressed and meet us in Tent C."
Remy swallowed, averted his eyes from his gasping friend, shrugging
sadly. "Sorry, Logan."
He too exited the tent, leaving Logan alone, with nothing but burning
eyes and a broken heart.
She waited for Logan, not saying a word and instructing Scott and Remy
to follow her example, as they sat at the table.
Her eyes were on charts, graphs, numbers, but her mind and her heart...
Slowly, very careful not to be obvious, her eyes flickered over Jubilee
and Kitty, both of whom were being tended to by Robert Drake and St.
John. She let her eyes take in the scene, the four friends who were
taking just enough comfort from each other not to break down, before
she tore her eyes away and took in a deep breath, trying desperately to
steady her trembling insides.
With a swift movement, she took off her glasses, laying them carefully
to the side of her notes, and turned, voice soft and low, to Scott.
He gave a short chuckle, harsh and brusque, shoulders shaking slightly.
From her viewpoint, the jaw and mouth seemed hard and angry, and once
again Jean would have given anything to see the eyes that he had told
her once were blue.
"Jean you do not want to know what is going through my mind."
Her eyes softened slightly. "On the contrary, I do."
He shrugged. "Then look."
"I want you to tell me."
He swallowed, and suddenly the red visors were directed at her, as he
turned, regarding the newly appointed leader. "I don't want to tell
you, Jean. Not right now. I'm sorry."
That stung. It really stung. She felt the moisture cloud her eyes and
she leaned back, blindly reaching for her glasses and putting them back
on, posture once more erect as the flap was lifted open and Logan
walked in, eyes bloodshot and wild, coming to stand next to Remy
She waited a beat, as the whispering stopped and all eyes focused on
hers, before clearing her throat, no emotion in her voice as she began
to speak. "All right, we have a problem." Jubilee snorted slightly, but
one look from Jean silenced her. "Just to get everybody up to date, at
approximately, 2:30 this morning, Rogue left us, and left two very
damaged X-Men in her wake."
"Damaged, but not killed," Bobby replied, his voice hoarse and tense.
"That's a good sign right?"
"Uh... excuse me? Voice of reason here!" Jubilee looked understandably
pissed as she rose to her feet, eyes naked to them, the moisture in
them a testament to the emotion in her voice. "I love Rogue, okay? But
do you guys need like, a neon sign? She has lost it. It is a dangerous
"No, buts, Bobby. She could have killed us."
"Jubilee's right." Remy sucked in his breath, his eyes narrowed,
ignoring the tense Logan beside him as he strode to the table.
"Don't even say it, Cyclops."
"HEY." Scott's voice was hard, and it ran with authority as he launched
to his feet, lenses directly on the Cajun thief. "Don't you start,
Remy. I trusted her with my life. But we have to face facts okay? She
has gone, she left us, she verbally threatened Storm, who might I add
is still missing, AND she has taken two members of the team. Do NOT say
this is unwarranted."
"She's still in there."
Logan's voice was low, but full of determination, and it made the group
pause, look at him. His form was tight, his stance defensive, but his
eyes were strangely hollow as he looked at no one and every one.
"How do you know that?" Jean answered.
"I spent more time with here than anyone here, didn't I?" he snapped
angrily. "I know. She's... she's in there."
"Logan." Kitty's tone was gentle, but her eyes were firm as she looked
at him. "We can't... I want to trust you and take your word on it...
but the life of Storm, our lives... she touched me, and I don't know
how I didn't die. I'd like so much to believe you-"
"We need proof Logan!" she demanded. "This is too dangerous to take
"I just know, Dammit. Marie's still in that body and as long as there's
something to save I'm not letting anyone get near her." The angry tone
was accompanied with a growl, making it a very real threat.
From the corner of her eye, Jean could Remy nod slightly. "Maybe she go
save Storm, eh?"
"That is taking SO much on faith," St. John snapped. "Look the time
comes when we have to cut our losses, no matter how much it hurts and
try to take her out."
Logan growled, and lunged forward. St. John stumbled back, hands ready,
but Remy caught Logan, holding him back.
"Guys. Enough." Jean interrupted, one slender hand coming up to shut
everyone up. Her eyes remained on Logan, and with a quiet nod, she went
around Scott, arms crossed, facing him. He gazed at her, but her eyes
never met his, mouth set in a grim line as she leaned forward,
whispered gently in his ear. "Logan, I'm going to ask you a question.
Do not nod, do not give any indication of an answer. Just think it for
me. Did you sleep with Rogue?" No one else heard the question, but all
eyes were on her, watching curiously.
His body tensed, she could hear the indrawn hiss, and her mind
immediately locked onto his answer.
She nodded shortly, leaning away from him, turning to the group. "As of
this moment, we do not consider Rogue as an ally, but as a threat that
we avoid at all costs. Right now our main concern is Storm, then we try
to salvage Rogue-"
"THEN we try to save Rogue," she repeated firmly, her gaze pinning
His eyes flashed, but he said nothing.
When she felt he had conceded, she turned back to the group. "I want a
layout of the mansion of what you two remember, Remy and Logan. The
rest of you, brief the others on what just happened, and make sure
everything is in working order. Scott... take over. I'm going to check
on the Professor."
With a headache pounding away at her brain, and the nausea at the
helplessness of the situation spreading through her abdomen, Jean
walked away from her team.
It was quite amusing, when one stopped to think about the situation he
had gotten himself into. If he really thought about it, he would have
to say that things had gotten quite domestic.
His eyes flickered above the book he was reading to the other side of
the room, where Rogue was sitting on the carpet, petting the cat with
one hand, the other raised high in the air, commanding her attention.
He found himself smiling, closing the book and cocking his head,
watching as her fingers danced in the flicker of the fireplace, as her
His lover. Not in perhaps the physical sense, she had not yet allowed
that, and he humored her. She had her reasons, they were still dealing
with the very powerful bond that was still changing both their bodies,
and thankfully, some of the physical trauma had eased when he had the
body returned to him.
Her eyes had returned to a gorgeous soft brown as he allowed her to
carry the burden of her mind for him, but she seemed infatuated with
the gifts his interaction had brought, and he found it an interesting
learning experience as she combined their gifts.
"What are you doing?" he asked her, putting the book to the side.
She smiled, her eyes turning and regarding him, and she stood,
barefooted, walking toward him before kneeling down in front of him,
palms spread out on his knees. "You changed me." Her hands slid up his
thighs, her eyes rested on the contact. "I can... do things."
His eyes twinkled merrily. "Am I seeing Rogue?"
"I never understood that." She was quiet for a minute, rising up on her
knees to rest her elbows on his thighs, her face lost in thought. "It's
like... everything before doesn't matter anymore... because of who I
"I think it still matters. Your past will always haunt you, Rogue,
unless you destroy it."
She cocked an eyebrow, a smirk coming to her lips. "Like you did yours,
"I merely did what was necessary for the future." His fingers slid
through her hair, caressing the spot just under her jaw. "Which is
exactly what you should be doing."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
His hands drifted to her shoulders, pulling her up with strength that
he inherited from her, until she was straddling his waist. "What I
mean," he began, violet eyes drifting, "is that as long as your past,
as long as MARIE exists, you will never face your future."
Her smile faltered, but she stayed put. Her eyes hardened, glinted and
turned a soft purple. "Ah like my past right where it is. In the past."
He pursed his lips, and leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. Her
mouth opened to him, and her tongue slid across his teeth, sucking
slightly, pulling his own back with her. He moaned, eyes snapping open
at the very real loss of control, felt himself slipping when she opened
His heart jolted, he felt the weakness, the pain, but with a few
muttered words, suddenly she was pouring into him.
She pulled away then, raising an eyebrow, lifting a hand to his cheek,
and with one caress, took it all back.
"That is the COOLEST thing," she whispered. "Show me more."
He grinned, felt her heartbeat thump against his chest, and he gathered
her face in his hands, and sealed his fate.
"I love you."
She smiled, leaned forward, pressed her lips against his, her hips
pressed against his own, and his mind was filled with her, as his hands
roamed and his eyes closed and her lips met his hungrily.
And never once, did he recall that she had never answered his
questions, nor had she ever said she loved him back.
When she closed the door behind her, his eyes opened.
Jean smiled tightly, coming forward and settling down next to the bed
where Charles was seated.
"Jean." His hand reached out and she clasped the soft, worn digits in
her own, pressing her face against them, her chest constricting as she
swallowed. She felt the pressure of his hand on her hair.
"Oh, God, Charles." Her eyes closed, her shoulders trembling as she
leaned over him. He held her as well as he could, not saying a word,
and she sobbed silently, knowing he knew it all already.
"Jean... shh.. It's all right."
"It's NOT all right!" she burst, lifting her face, eyes streaked with
tears. "We're falling apart out there."
"You're doing just fine."
"I lost Rogue. And I lost Storm. My best friend."
"Rogue lost herself."
She swallowed, looking away. "I wish I could believe that."
"Jean, listen to me." His voice was kind, firm, and it was exactly what
she needed as she straightened, looking into the clear blue eyes tinged
slightly with pain. "You are not the problem. Everyone has their own
mind. All we can do is steer it."
She swallowed. "How can I lead when I am so full of ... doubt and fear
Charles could only offer a soft smile. "Everyone must deal with their
demons, Jean. You must accept yours. You are not perfect."
"Believe me professor, no one knows that more than I do."
"You and Scott have always had this mentality that everything you did
or said had to be 'right'. You never quite realized that there is no
right or wrong. There are actions, and consequences. Rogue has chosen
"Jean." He wheezed slightly, closing eyes, his features contorting in
pain, and her hand reached for his, squeezing.
"Do you want me to get you some medicine?" she asked, wiping the tears
away as she looked him over, instinct taking over emotion.
"No. I need to you listen to me. Jean... Eric and I were the best of
friends. I knew everything about him, but he chose his path." Jean
swallowed, keeping her eyes trained on him. "I lost the best, closest
and more dear person in my life, to a path that he chose. But it was
his to choose, and he accepted the consequences, just as I had to
accept that his path would harm, and MY path was to stop him."
She took in a breath, shaking unsteadily, and he continued, his eyes
trained on hers.
"Jean. I had to learn to let him go."
Her eyes closed and one tear drifted down her soft cheek.
She was through waiting.
Storm knew that an attempt to escape would more than likely get her
killed, but the very shocking turn of events had led her to take the
She was hovering behind the door, the heavy marble statue in her hand
when the door opened.
She waited until she saw the back of the head of her former friend, and
with a yell, brought it down.
Rogue moved a split second before it made contact, the statue catching
her in the arm, shattering against her.
"SHIT! OWW!" Rogue spit, her eyes flickering from brown to violet as
she kicked the door closed. "SHIT 'RO! What the FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH
Storm watched, drifting down into fight position, watching with growing
uncertainty as Rogue cursed under her breath, grabbing some of the
melted ice in the bucket of forgotten wine and placing it on her arm.
"Auggie is going to get so pissed. He liked that statue."
Ororo's eyes narrowed. "Rogue?"
"What? Geez." Rogue grabbed a towel, wrapping it against her arm as she
glared at her. "What the hell was that? When did you go all commando?"
Storm's gaze was leveled on her, and she resumed her fight position,
causing Rogue to roll her eyes. "Oh will you stop that? Ah'm not here
to kill you. Though you know if we were at home, I really would kick
Storm's position wavered slightly, her milky white eyes resuming her
normal color as she straightened up. She licked her lips, feeling her
heart skip a beat. "Rogue?"
"Yes. It is me. Hello. Augustus is asleep. I took the opportunity to
pay a visit. Locked him away into his own dreams for a while."
Storm wasn't quite sure how to answer that.
"I'm here to get you out of here, preferably without you dying."
Storm swallowed as Rogue opened the door, tossing Storm her black
leather uniform. "Put it on, it's frigid out."
"I ... I'm not sure I understand."
"There's not much to understand. Augustus wants to kill you. I want
nothing more to do with you. My past is dead, but Marie..." she
shrugged, rolling her eyes. "You have to warn the others. She's dying,
little by little... every hour... and when she's dead... there's
nothing stopping me from winning the game."
"The Game, Storm!" Rogue slid on the long black trenchcoat, eyes
shifting color yet again as she looked at her in exasperation. "You
know about the game. It's lost." her steps faltered slightly, and her
mouth pursed as she gazed at Ororo. "Look. I care about you. This
heart... cares about you. But I am bound to that man, and my heart has
no room in his life. He will destroy it at the first crack."
"Would you let him?"
Rogue didn't answer, instead looking outside of the door. "Just get out
of here. Warn the others. When it's complete, my past will be
obliterated. Ah think you qualify as being a part of it."
The hardness in Rogue's voice struck a chill in Storm's body, and she
took in a breath, eyes narrowing. "I am afraid I do not trust you."
Rogue practically growled as she whirled, marching up to her taller
friend and pushing her back against the wall. Her eyes bore into hers
as she spoke heatedly. "I don't care. You either take a chance and
come with me, or you die here, and trust me, that is NOT something you
Storm's body heaved against her, her body tight with fear and
uncertainty, but she managed one sentence. "Would you destroy Logan?"
The eyes shifted and there was a wince, and Rogue stumbled back,
holding a hand to her head, and with eyes flashing, she turned,
backhanding Storm across the face.
"NEVER say his name around here again." Storm held a hand to her face,
the spot where Rogue had struck her stung, and Rogue swallowed, leaning
forward, and pressing her lips gently against the skin. "Ah'm sorry,"
And the tone was so small and young and full of hurt it Storm could
"Let's get out of here." Storm weighed her options, and finally just
took a breath, getting to her feet.
Rogue paused in the doorway, looking back at her former best friend.
"This isn't going to be pretty. You're REALLY going to have to trust
His chest actually hurt. It had stayed constricted, causing him to gasp
for breath. The red-eyed Cajun could only stand, his hands clenched
into fists and his mind whirling and it kept coming back to two women.
There was a lump in the back of his throat and an anger, a seething
anger at his helplessness because now that he was part of the damn team
he had to let his decisions be made for him...
He couldn't stand that... not when he was doing nothing but sitting
here and Storm was in trouble and any moment Rogue could lose her mind.
Not when he had just...
Oh God... he had never even told her...
He walked back slowly, leaning against the wall while the others
discussed under the leadership of Scott, eyes glowing with anger and
helpless frustration until the movements of Wolverine caught his eye.
Logan was pacing, when he suddenly stopped, and Remy watched curiously
as he moved slowly toward the door, taking care that no one saw him
Seconds before he disappeared, he caught Remy's eye, and when Remy
cocked an eyebrow, he only shrugged.
Immediately Remy followed him.
The trenchcoat was pulled on as he jogged, catching up to him as
Wolverine trudged through the snow, leaving crisp, marked footprints in
"What's the plan?"
"Don't have one, " answered Wolverine, breath coming out in misty
clouds in the frigid air.
"My kinda plan."
They walked, side by side, and when Wolverine began to run, his face
determined, angry and completely determined, Remy knew the expression
mirrored his own.
"We get to that damn icebox, find a way in, and get them the hell out,"
Logan finally answered. "that's the plan."
Logan gave him a look, but Remy never looked at him. Instead he
readjusted the trenchcoat, and fingered the cards in his pocket.
They walked in silence following the path that Remy had taken when he
followed Rogue before.
His heart beat soundly, but his mind was clear, void of anything else
other than finding his women.
He was going to save Storm and help Logan save Rogue, because those two
women meant the world to him, and if he had to die doing it...
He'd rather do that than have to wait for the beaurucratic bullshit
that was happening back at the camp.
A good three miles and half a hour later, the Ice Box came into sight.
Logan immediately slowed, and Remy followed his lead, hands reaching
into his pockets.
The attacks came almost immediately.
Out from the right a mutant jumped from the trees.
Logan grabbed him and slammed him to the ground.
Remy was plowed into by a snake like being that spewed poison.
Within seconds, the cards were flung and the creature flung with it,
ending with a satisfying explosion.
He caught up to Logan, dusting himself off in the process.
"Have fun?" Logan asked, keeping his eyes straight again.
He was about to comment again when his steps faltered, as the ice, now
only fifty feet away, began to melt.
Logan paused, his eyes narrowing, the knives sliding from his hands, a
low growl coming from his throat.
The lean thief kept his hands in his pockets, drawing out two cards
And then they froze.
"Storm," Remy whispered.
The two women were now outside the wall, both dressed in black, both
He began to run, barely taking note of Logan keeping the pace, eyes
only on the pair, watching as their heads whipped around, caught them
running toward them.
Storm's eyes widened, her eyes glazed a milky white as her hands
reached out, almost as if to ward them off.
Rogue's gaze was hard as she saw the two men, and for only half a
second, Remy thought he could see something other than the darkness in
But she only shook her head. "Sorry Storm. Gotta make the point."
Storm turned, and Remy felt his heart climb into his throat and he
tried to sprint faster, the cards catching heat.
But Rogue didn't listen, instead she had eyes only for Storm, as the
ebony-skinned wind Goddess stumbled back, watching as winds began to
whirl around them both, swirling and falling and suddenly Remy was
knocked to his knees, trenchcoat whirling as the wind bit at them, hard
These were not Ororo's winds.
His eyes closed against the searing, biting snow whirling around him,
and he crawled forward blindly, barely hearing Logan yelling hoarsely
somewhere behind him.
The wind bit at his skin, but he continued forward, feeling his
strength ebb bit by bit... but he only grit his teeth and moved on.
And as quick as it had come, the wind stopped, silent and clear.
Remy coughed, groaned, pushed himself up, wiping the snowflakes from
his face, looking forward.
OH GOD NO.
He tried to mouth words as his heart dropped out from under him, and he
scrambled forward, on hands and knees, sliding down next to the fallen
Ororo Munroe lay on the ground, eyes closed, a wound in her stomach,
and she was seeping blood. There was so much blood.
"Oror-" He gasped for breath, tears suddenly making it painful to see,
unsure what to do, unable to touch her for fear he would hurt her
further. "Godd... Storm... Storm... " He swallowed down, hard, his
heart pounding furiously, so low and so fast he felt it beating in his
ears, gasping as he pressed a gloved hand to her wound in a desperate
attempt to stop the bleeding.
But she didn't move, her beautiful face never showed any emotion, and
when Logan kneeled down next to him, his eyes blood shot and his throat
raw, he voiced what Remy would have given anything not to hear.
"Oh God.. Storm... Oh God... Oh... I think she's... "
"NO!" Remy roared, pushing him back, cradling the body to him. "She's
NOT. She's NOT."
Logan only stared, his body trembling, watching as Remy pulled her
closer to him, head suddenly pressed against her chest. "She's going
to be okay... She will... she is going to fine.."
"She's not going to be fine. She's dead. Just like Marie is dead."
A boot landed in his chest and he was kicked back, losing his hold on
the body of Storm as he tumbled back into the snow drifts.
Logan had the knives out, and Remy scrambled up, his cards up, his
heart broken and his anger intensified. "ROGUE!"
Rogue only watched, standing over the body of her former best friend,
the deep violet of the eyes never more vibrant as she regarded the two
"I had to make a point. Now get out of here. Leave me alone."
"I MEAN it LOGAN!" she snapped, interrupting the haunted, hoarse tone
of Logan's. "The girl you knew is gone, and I have no idea what I will
turn into. But get your asses back to camp and let them know. Maybe
then you'll finally play."
Gambit swore, his eyes flooding with tears as he looked at Ororo, and
when he threw his hand back to fling the card, the ice slid up from
under him, and he and Logan were flung back.
He landed with a jar, head jarred and arm bleeding from the fall, and
as he lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered was the pair of
violet eyes watching from the window.
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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