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FIC: On Touch and Other Unnatural Phenomenon: 3/4: NC-17: Rogue, Logan/Rogue, others

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  • Jenn
    Title: Touch and Other Unnatural Phenomenon Author: jenn (jenn@igg-tx.net) Codes: Rogue, Logan/Rogue Rating: NC-17 Summary: Sequel to Instinct. The first
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 4, 2001
      Title: Touch and Other Unnatural Phenomenon
      Author: jenn (jenn@...)
      Codes: Rogue, Logan/Rogue
      Rating: NC-17
      Summary: Sequel to Instinct. The first four months with a new baby and
      other scary and unexpected things.
      Author Notes: And this is when I apologize for forgetting about this
      completely. Because, I did. Completely, until I got feedback from Kitty,
      who asked where the rest was. I went blank, because everything that ISN'T
      this epic I started literally disappeared from my radar. How odd.
      Anyways, the fourth part is almost done, because if I don't do it now, it
      may be another month or two before I remember, why, yes, I DO have other
      stories to work on.
      Dedication: Sare, Beth, Ally, Ann, and Molly. Love you.
      Feedback: Always appreciated and generally mooned over with a silly grin.

      Special dedication to Caroline for some highly amusing emails. I will get
      those betas out TONIGHT. Promise.


      Logan snored softly--how cute. James snored exactly the same way. I took
      a minute to enjoy the comparison, then carefully pressed the rest of the
      sheet aside, taking in the long, lean body of the single hottest man I'd
      ever seen.

      Then began the careful process of draping my scarf.

      There are a thousand ways to wake up someone and I've used a lot of them.
      Shake them on the shoulder--sometimes gets me pinned down to the bed on my
      back for non-amorous reasons, but I'm an understanding gal, and anyway,
      well, the reasons sometimes don't *stay* non-amorous for very long. Shout
      from across the room. Cold water down their underwear, or in Logan's case,
      sensitive areas. Option three didn't really appeal to me though--I was
      trying to get certain sensitive areas interested, not frightened into

      Take their cock in your mouth with only a superfine silk scarf between your
      lips and their skin--


      --oh yeah, sugar, that'll work. Probably thought he was dreaming. Had to
      hope he was dreaming of me.

      With a smile, I took the head carefully between my teeth, pressing down
      slightly, then let my lips close and sucked. Once. Hard.

      Not only was he fully erect, he was also fully awake. I'm the oral sex
      goddess. All hail.

      "*Fuck*, baby."

      I giggled--as much as I could with a lot of Logan in my mouth--and let my
      lips slide down. It had taken time to learn to relax enough to get by my
      gag reflex. Being me, I was determined to master it. Being Logan, he was
      willing to act as my practice equipment anytime I wanted. Being a
      superhealer--well, I got a lot of practice.

      Locking my eyes to his, I let him go all the way down my throat.

      "Oh *God* baby," he whispered, and gloved hands slid into my hair, thumbs
      brushing over my cheekbones. I swallowed once, just to hear him moan
      again, then slowly slid up until I had only the head still in my mouth.
      Let it out and blew gently, gaining myself a shudder, before running my
      tongue teasingly over the head and down the big vein on the underside,
      reaching carefully to trace the inside of his thighs with my fingernails.

      "Baby--that is--no, don't stop--a hell of a way--RIGHT THERE--to wake up."

      With a grin, I pulled away, climbing on the bed and settling myself
      comfortably between his legs, running my hands up and down the spread
      thighs, before pulling the scarf off and unwrapping the condom.

      "Good evenin', sugar."

      Still breathing erratically, he cocked an eyebrow at me.

      "Yeah, you could say that." His eyes traveled down my face, freezing at
      the black bustier with its laced front, the black tights, down to the black
      heels pressed against his calves. Beneath the hand I had braced lightly on
      his chest, his heartbeat jumped.



      I smiled slowly, placing the condom over the tip of his cock, stretching my
      arms on either side of his hips and letting my mouth hover inches above
      him--not to mention giving him an excellent view of my cleavage.

      "You've been planning this." Growly, slightly breathless. Always good to

      "Ya think?" I grinned, letting my tongue dart out to run quickly around
      the head, before settling back down. "Make yourself comfortable,
      sugar--you're gonna like this."

      Logan prides himself on the fact that, yes, he has stamina. In fact, it
      became something of a challenge early on to see how fast I could make him
      come. Different methods have different results, and oral wasn't Logan's
      preferred method of sex--at least, not with me.

      This method, however, is almost a guarantee of orgasm in under five minutes
      and Logan shuddered under me as I went to work. In one easy motion, I
      wrapped my lips around the head and pushed the condom down with tongue and
      teeth, sucking him deep into my mouth, feeling his hands settle in my hair,
      breathing erratic and broken with short, rather interesting exclamations
      and promises--which I sometimes held him to, such as Kilt Night.

      Hehehe. Kilt night. That was fun.

      "Yes, baby--right there--God, baby, good, good--*shit* Marie."

      He tensed under my hands--the clock in my head said I may slide in at under
      five minutes. Soft pulsing, then a brush of my tongue across the base,
      taking his sac between my fingers. I drew in a breath and slid my lips all
      the way to the base. One swallow, two swallows--

      "Oh *God* Marie! YES!"

      Four minutes, fifty-seven seconds and my sex-deprived-for-four-months-lover
      was happy. Gimme a medal, baby. I kept position, letting him soften in my
      mouth, licking gently, then pulled up, giving him a long, satisfied smile
      before stripping the condom and tying it off, tossing it (with perfect
      accuracy, I might add) into the trash can by the bed. Sitting back on my
      heels, I waited while his breathing evened out and the hazel eyes opened,
      regarding me with a mixture of lazy pleasure and amusement.

      "You really didn't like to be interrupted, didja?"

      "Nope." I braced a hand on either side of him and moved my legs to either
      side of his thighs, lowering my head until my damp hair trailed up his
      body. "How you feeling, sugar?"

      An eyebrow arched and he reached for me, running his hands up my thighs,
      along the bare skin of my waist, up to the edge of the bustier.


      "Yeah. I thought so too." Climbing a little farther up, until our mouths
      were inches apart, my hair a curtain around us. I settled down on my
      knees, just over the rapidly-awakening erection that snuggled itself into
      the crease of my ass, bringing a soft moan from between my lips. Logan
      reached down, finding the scarf, pulling it quickly between us and over my
      mouth before he kissed me, hard, biting sharply on my lower lip, thumbs
      lazily circling my nipples.

      Oh yeah, he was *definitely* awake. Good for him. Even better for me.

      "Have fun tonight?"

      "Yeah," I murmured, and his hands closed over my waist, pulling me up and
      sitting up with me, finding a leather-coated nipple with his teeth. My
      back arched and his hand twisted in my hair, drawing my head back.

      "What'd you do?"

      What *did* I do? Fuck if I knew--his other hand was massaging my waist and
      pressing my hips into his, settling up a slow, maddening rhythm that just
      barely brushed my clit. Not enough--not *nearly* enough. I pressed down
      harder and he bit down sharply.

      "God," I whimpered.

      "Tell me what you did." Licking the mishandled flesh, he switched breasts,
      pulling my hair farther, my head back. I took a breath, staring at the
      ceiling, trying to recenter my mind. Did something tonight--something
      important. Did something--

      "Beat up Sabretooth."

      "Mmm. What else?" Then ducked his head to suck and that was it, I was
      done. I pressed down into him, trying to move both of us into the best
      possible position, trying to get him closer,
      right--in--that--perfect--spot-- "Baby--oh, no. Talk to me."

      Fuck. I mean, damn, I wasn't going to *get* to. I reached down between
      us, gloved hands sliding over his chest, getting a soft growl for my

      "Watched Toad whirl in the air," I answered breathlessly. "Oh sugar,
      please, yes--"

      "That's what you call a mission report?" He freed my hair, both hands
      going to my hips, pressing me down again--so damned *close* to the right

      "Fuck mission reports." There. Gloved hands finding his cock--and yes, he
      was so ready, why *wasn't* he inside me where he damn well should be? I
      ground down again, reaching for the condoms, when he caught my wrist,
      flipping me onto my back and neatly straddling me, grinning down.

      Very nice maneuver. Couldn't do a damn thing with my legs, his leverage
      was good, and my wrists were trapped. I smiled up at him, licking my lips,
      and his gaze followed the motion of my tongue. Four months, sugar, and the
      sprog was still asleep. Let's play.

      "You havin' fun, sugar?"

      "Only just begun." He lowered his head, brushing his tongue briefly over
      the exposed skin of my upper breasts, pulling back before my mutation
      clicked on. Shamelessly, I arched into it--coincidentally trying to knock
      him off me.

      "Oh, very clever, darlin'." Another grin as he leaned over again, rubbing
      his cock against my barely-covered stomach.

      "Come on, sugar." I shimmied a little, hearing his indrawn breath--he went
      without sex for as long as I did, damn it. Now he gets all content to

      Both hands left my wrists--that was encouraging--and then I was on my
      stomach and he ran both hands over my ass and my back--

      --ah, this was going to be *fun*. I got it.


      I suppose, by most lights, the interview went relatively well, even if it
      started thirty minutes before I got there, thanks to some judicious
      maneuvering by Logan. I should have guessed, of course--when he'd gotten
      into bed with me that night, he's still had that oddly considering look and
      put far too much effort into distracting me from worrying about my parents.
      Or asking him why he kept smiling in that particular way of his, the smile
      that in other people would have qualified as mischievous--except of course,
      Logan's concepts of mischief gives the word a whole new meaning.

      Mischief, for example, was his fifth-favorite hobby, Sabretooth-baiting.
      Hehehe. Mischief. Cute.

      In any case, when I went in, Logan was smoking a cigar by the window with
      elaborate casualness and my parents had a look of shell-shock about them
      that told me my darling, mischievous husband had given them the Cliff Notes
      version of my life since I met him--predictably the hideously unvarnished
      and brutally truthful version, since Logan just wasn't a huge fan of the
      sugarcoating method of storytelling.

      I was trying hard to be pissed about it, but couldn't really summon
      anything but a sort of general irritation that he seemed to think I
      couldn't handle this myself. Sitting down in the chair across from them,
      there was an awkward silence before my mother began the surreal stream of
      small talk to get things moving--she was always legendary at Meridian
      dinner parties for that ability. I wasn't even surprised.

      "How long have you been married?"

      Hmm. Answer the question honestly or not?

      "For awhile." From the corner of my eye, I saw Logan finish his cigar and
      begin his usual pacing routine, good for any and all impatient-Logan
      occasions--if watched long enough, it actually turned out to be a perimeter
      sweep pattern, and I wondered, every time I saw it, if he ever noticed.

      This, of course, made my parents even jumpier. If that was possible.
      Which he was probably going for. Hmm.

      "You have--a baby?"

      The tone surprised me a little--shouldn't have, though. I was my parents'
      only child, a one-shot deal, so to speak. They were looking at their
      estranged and only possible source of grandchildren. Sitting back a little
      in the chair, I tried to decide how much into this sharing I wanted to get.
      When it came down to it, I didn't want to share James, even a little, even
      like this, with them.


      My mother seemed to sense my feelings on the subject and retreated, quickly
      beginning another series of questions. Things I hadn't shared on the
      phone, she'd never asked about--what college I went to, how I'd adapted to
      New York winters, how my job was going. Almost random things, that seemed
      so trivial, except they weren't trivial to her. Her eyes flickered to my
      bare hands periodically--and if anyone had asked me why on earth I'd chosen
      to discard gloves for this interview, I couldn't have told them. Maybe I
      was making a point? Or being needlessly petty. I honestly didn't care.

      "Why are you here?" I'd graduated from high school and college without
      them, married and given birth without them, started a career and became a
      superhero--yes, without them--and they showed up now, when my life was
      finally relatively stable. Impeccable timing. Just peachy. "You could
      have asked this over the phone--you haven't before now, so why?"

      I think Logan chuckled. Bluntness suited him. My mother bit her lip,
      glancing at my father briefly, before turning her eyes on me.

      "We wanted to see you, baby."

      "You've seen me." Get to the point.

      "Marie--Rogue." A sigh. "We--we were wrong, sugar. We--we--"

      "Wanted to make sure you were doing as well as you'd told us on the phone."
      My father--big Senator Kelly supporter, from a nice, long line of racists
      dating back a few hundred years. The pride I felt.

      It wasn't the words, I had to guess much later, that got my back up. It
      was the tone. As if I was lying, as if this was something he couldn't
      credit. A place his mutant-freak daughter was accepted, even
      liked--*married* of all things, which probably seriously screwed with his
      notions on reality. He didn't get it, couldn't get it--probably was
      watching for something, some overt sign of hostility, of whatever
      preconceived notions he had on what mutants did in their homelife. I could
      almost guess he expected some run-down hovel on the edge of town,
      surrounded by accumulated garbage, and find us inside doing human
      sacrifices or something along those lines. What evil mutants did, after
      all. We couldn't live normal lives, have families, enjoy picnics in summer
      or drive to the grocery stores and shop like normal people. He still
      didn't quite get that.

      "I'm doing fine. I'm glad you stopped by." Not really. "Is that all?" I
      gave them a few seconds and Logan, who no doubt was absolutely ecstatic by
      this development, was making his inconspicuous way to the door, oh so ready
      to be done with this. I couldn't even blame him. "Okay." On my feet,
      see, that wasn't so hard, one step, two steps, three steps--


      I'd given up a long time ago believing anything in my life would ever be

      "We came--because we want to be part of your life. I know we--that what we
      did was wrong," she rushed out, without a glance at my father. "I've
      missed you. There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't
      regretted that you left, how you--how you were alone."

      "I wish I'd known that when I was hitchhiking my way across the country," I
      answered calmly--I hoped calmly. God, please let it be calm, don't let
      anything show, I was older and wiser and I didn't need them for anything.


      "Or when Magneto decided I'd be a good way to power his new toy. Or
      anytime in that first year when I wanted to die because I felt so alone."

      My mother paled. That felt indecently good too.

      "But now, you want to see me, and now, you want to make up. Don't you
      think it's a little late for that?"

      "It's not that simple." My father now, looking combative, not a massive
      surprise. I could guess this little field trip hadn't been his idea.
      "Marie, sit down and listen--"

      That was *so* the wrong way to deal with an X-Man.

      "I'm not in your home any longer and I'm not sixteen." Both my parents
      started, and I did too, just at the hard sound of my own voice. At my
      sides, my hands were clenched into tight fists. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

      For a moment, I thought my father would simply get up and leave, but it was
      always a point of interest that my mother, though she played the part of
      submissive wife pretty damn well, had a stubborn streak as wide as mine.
      She straightened in her chair, catching my father's hand before he could do
      anything rash, and met my gaze without flinching.

      "We were wrong, Marie."

      Somehow, I didn't expect that. Apparently, my father hadn't either.

      "Honey--" Dad seriously underestimates my mother.

      "I never wanted you gone, baby. Never."

      What a pity she hadn't had this sort of spine when I left.


      "I know it's been a long time--and I gave you your space, sugar. I wanted
      to give you that at least, let you be happy. I wanted--wanted to let you
      do this at your own pace. We were wrong to let you leave--"

      "--throw me out--"

      "I wouldn't've, Marie." She stood up, taking two steps toward me. A
      pause, then her slim hand rested on shoulder, tentatively at first, then
      stronger. "I'm sorry you felt the need to run. We--as soon as I knew you
      were okay, I contacted your Professor. I didn't--I wanted to be sure you
      were all right."

      I thought about the phone calls, the stilted questions, the long silences.
      The touch of her hand and I pulled away, feeling my eyes begin to burn, my
      mouth going dry as I thought of all the things that could have been
      different if they'd been what I needed. If they'd been my parents in every
      sense of the word, the people they should have been, the person I would
      kill myself trying to be for James.

      Somewhere in the back of my mind was Jean, who'd taken up the space my
      mother had abandoned, and the Professor, who'd been the father I wished I
      could have had. Scott, who helped me with homework, and Ororo, who took me
      shopping. Jubilee and Kitty, the sisters I always longed for.

      And Logan. Logan, my world for so long that these people that stood with
      me in the room were little more than shadows.

      I met my mother's eyes, seeing the answer to the question--this wasn't for
      me at all, this unexpected visit. It wasn't to make peace with me--it was
      to make peace with themselves, that they'd done the best they could. They
      wanted forgiveness. They wanted to ease their conscience. They wanted me
      to say it all worked out for the best.

      They were asking for one thing I could give--the one thing that was more
      true than I expected when I asked myself the question.

      "I'm okay now." I paused, feeling Logan close behind me, wondering if the
      Professor was watching, wondering if he'd be disappointed in my choice. It
      was true, I was. I wasn't sixteen and alone anymore.

      I turned toward the door, seeing Logan's slight smile, the tiniest shake of
      his head as he opened the door for me. My mother took two faltering steps,
      then paused.


      I shook my head and felt Logan's hand on my back, warm and comforting and
      promising that no matter what I decided, he'd support me. No matter what I
      chose, he'd help me. And no matter what I became, he'd always love me.

      "I do forgive you," I heard myself say quietly, turning to look at my
      parents. "Goodbye."

      Logan shut the door behind me and, in our room, he held me while I cried.


      Personal Webpage:

      XMMFF List Archivist: www.geocities.com/xmenmoviefanfic

      PETJ, EFB, WRB, FEF, WRM, AngstGrrl, General Diebin-fan, Beth-fan

      --She gave them both a handjob while all three watched Star Trek
      re-runs...--an unforgettable line by Beth. <g>

      She was a *cow*? As in, a black-and-white lactose-producing, cudd-chewing,
      oh-so-tippable *bovine*? -- Caroline during an Angel discussion
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