Professor's Permission (1/1) PG-13 [Implied W/R, Fluff]
- Title: Professor's Permission (1/1)
Rated: PG-13 for some swear words.
Archive: WRFA, xmenmoviefanfic, others please notify.
Genre: Implied W/R, Fluff
Teaser: Rogue gets permission.
Feedback: Living in a life of quiet desperation. . . let there be
light and give me some!
Notes: Fluffy fluff that I had to get out of the way before resuming
my exceedingly gruesome work on an overly ambitious story. It's kind
of for that part of me that can't believe the nerve of Logan to leave
Rogue hanging like that and still expect her to be INTO him (It's not
cannon but you KNOW it's true). So I tried something different with
Rogue and ended up with this. And because I think Prof X is hot (I
know, ewww! But Patrick Stewart IS SUCH a hottie!) and I needed to
write something about him. He's even in the title, hee! So it's
really nothing to ta-da about, but thanks for reading. And always,
thanks to Melly for her endless amount of encouragement *hugs*. And
many many "wrong butt on"s to Jess ahead of time for beta-ing for moi
Disclaimer: Concept and character not mine. I eat ramen about three
times a week so don't come a knocking for money.
The door slammed so hard I felt my teeth rattle. God, I wasn't even
in the same wing. Guess this is what I get for living in an old
place like this. Not that it's dilapidated or anything, it's just
that sounds tend to travel from one side of the mansion to anywhere
within a ten mile radius. Especially when people are yelling,
screaming, being mutilated, breaking stuff, etc. So it's not like I
WANT to eavesdrop on Jean and Scott's relationship problems. I am
actually being forced to listen!
"Jean! Open the door!"
I rolled my eyes. Talk about the wrong thing to say.
"Open this door right now!"
Yes, as opposed to much later in the day. When you put it THAT way,
Jean's obviously going to open that door and you're all going to live
happily ever after. Right.
Men will never learn. Case in evidence, Magneto. Granted the old
fellow didn't have much time for the opposite sex with all the
humanity hating and evil plotting he had to do, but from the looks of
his memories, Mr. Homo Superior wasn't much evolved from the
usual, "Me Tarzan, You Jane" sort of thing. Speaking of Tarzan,
hell, don't even get me started with Logan. I mean, he's a sweetie,
but sometimes you just want to bash his head in.
With a girl-power smile on my lips, I knocked on the door to the
Professor's office. Now there was a fine specimen of the male
species. So the man was bald and stuck in a wheelchair. SO WHAT?
Hair's overrated anyway. Of course he did have the slight advantage
of being able to read people's minds. This makes me pity all the
other guys. If mind reading is what it takes, they'd NEVER get it.
"Come in, Rogue." That voice. It's so deep and commanding, and yet
soothing at the same time. Hell, I could listen to him read a
phonebook. And if he told me to jump off a bridge, damn it, I'd
probably do it, never mind all the mind control shit. But he's
keeping it relatively simple for me, so I open the door and walk in.
As usual, the chess board and its pieces were already set up. Yeah,
ever since o' Erik shoved some of his powers down my throat, I've
been itching for a good chess game. Professor X was nice enough to
accommodate me and I've been hooked ever since. I guess it must have
been kind of weird for him, me having so much of Erik's memories,
enough to occasionally beat him in a chess game. But he told me he
was glad, because even though I had his memories, I still chose to be
on the side of aiding humanity. . . or something like that. He had
smiled when he said that. He did have a nice smile when he REALLY
smiled. Kitty would be pissed if she knew she was missing out. The
girl's helpless adoration does get a bit obsessive at times.
"Jean!" More banging. Not the good kind either.
The good Professor frowned slightly. I knew what he was thinking.
It didn't take a telepath to know. This whole Scott-Jean-Logan thing
was getting kinda tired. Ever since Logan came back, the Professor
had to replace three doors, four lamps, and re-plaster three walls.
And that was in addition to the usual destructive teen mutant
mischief that we see around here. The guy's loaded so it's not about
the money, but from the looks of things even he has his limits.
I moved my first piece and said, "I think it's time to call out the
big guns, Professor."
He glanced at the board for a second before moving his first
piece. "What do you propose?" he asked, with a slight tilt of his
mouth as if he already knew where my mind was going.
"Well, I'd suggest threesome, but I don't think Scott would be into
that." Ha! He'd sooner run across the lawn buck-naked. Although,
that in itself wouldn't be a bad thing. I'm sure lots of people,
included yours truly, wouldn't mind getting an eye full. "Jean
probably wouldn't go for it either." She's too dignified. I think
about that like it's a bad thing.
"But Logan wouldn't mind?" Xavier asked, looking perfectly
comfortable on the subject. I guess when you can read minds
sometimes you get more than you bargained for. He's probably seen it
all, and then some. I didn't know whether to be happy for him or
Anyway, I thought about his question. "Well, I think Logan might be
interested in a threesome, as long as the other two are both women."
I paused as my mind, singling onto Logan's memories, sped ahead
without me. "With legs up to their necks. And blonde, or red, or
brunette long hair. And preferably gymnasts or dancers, they're
especially flexible. And really big--" I absentmindedly gestured
with my hands.
"Rogue." The old guy held out his hand, though I wasn't sure if he
was trying to keep me away or to stop my thoughts. Probably
both. "That is QUITE enough of a description."
"Oh." I looked down and found I had my hands in front of my chest.
Okay, so I was obviously not up to Logan's fantasy standards. Then
again, I think it's pretty hard to reach that proportion without a
little surgical help. Besides, I like the fact that my boobs and I
are in the same time zone, makes them easier to talk to.
"It's your turn."
I stared at the board. I was in a bad place. "You distracted me," I
He smiled. Guess he's never had Erik pout at him over a chess game
before. This was something totally me.
"So," I said as I moved deeper into purgatory, "I think we need
something to teach. . . uhh. . . distract Logan so he'll leave Jean
and Scott alone, and give Scott some room to maneuver." Because lord
knows, Scott needs it. He can't be the Fearless Leader and Confident
Lover all at once with Logan gnawing on his Achilles' heel.
And everyone knows Logan gets his kicks every day by pissing Scott
off. That and well, have you SEEN Jean? She's like the closest
Logan will ever get to living out his kinky fantasies. I don't blame
the guy one bit, although people around here seems to think that I
still have a thing for him.
Teenagers are known for their short attention spans, and I, though
reaching the end of my teen years, would not be as conceited as to
exclude myself. It's not like I don't have enough to deal with my
deadly mutant powers and teen-post-teen angst.
'But Rogie, you were like, in his head!' the wanna-be romantic Kitty
Right, so I remember his memories coming into me, but then they just
sort of melted into my own. I can differentiate who they came from
and pick them out if I try, but usually they just come together like
rivers into the sea of Rogue. So it's not like I'm actually carrying
this tangible piece of him, unless you count the dog tags he left me -
- but then I don't carry those with me anymore. Don't quite remember
where I left them, probably wrapped nicely in a jewelry box
somewhere. Hey, he DID save my life after all, I shouldn't be too
ungrateful. But seriously, of all the couples in the whole fucking
world, he had to pick on the only example of a successful mutant
couple that I have. I look at them and I think, maybe someday I'll
have that, it's possible! At least until Logan came along and
screwed everything up. So it's hardly surprising that I'm siding
with Mr. Scott Summers because Logan the badass needs to be taught a
lesson. But he didn't get his badassness by being stupid, and this
brings me back to my on-going discussion with the Professor.
"Logan seems quite intent on his goal," Xavier considered, speaking
rather benignly about what I would like to call Third Wheel
Harrassment. "What kind of distraction do you have in mind?" he
"I'm not sure. We could always ask Jubilee to distract him," I
grinned wickedly. Sic'ing Jubilee on anyone is pretty much as close
to evil as you can get around here. And hey, if you can't beat her,
join her, hence our friendship. I am hoping this layer of sisterhood
will make Jubilee give a second's pause so I can at least run for it
when she decides to come after me.
"I'm afraid there might be causalities if Jubilee was to be directly
involved," Xavier said, dead serious.
Jubes. Logan's claws. I shudder at the ensuing carnage. Yeah,
Rogue, not a very good idea there.
"I believe I know someone who might be able to assist us," he said
pointedly at me as he took one of my few remaining pieces.
Dammit, that's what I get for playing with a master. How am I going
to get out of this now?
I moved my knight out of immediate danger. "I don't think that's a
good idea, he treats me like a sister. My shots would probably
bounce off him like a beach ball." --and hit me on the nose. Then
I'd be the one bruised.
"The mind," Xavier started to say, making me wonder if he was going
to give an impromptu lecture. "Is one of the most powerful weapons
anyone can have. You already have four, including his." He leaned
closer, his voice a little softer. "You can use what you've learned
from his memories against him. And when you do, the fact that he
treats you like a sister will only work to your advantage."
I abruptly reared back, incredulous by the deviousness of the X-Men
leader. It's like I'm talking to Yoda and he's telling me to "Use
the Force". Of course, the Professor is substantially more
attractive, but just as crafty. My mouth was suddenly dry, making it
all the harder to swallow.
"Are you saying you're giving me permission to do whatever I want?" I
managed to ask, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. I swear there was an
evil glint in his eye.
He said nothing for a moment, as if contemplating the enormity of his
answer. Then, he said, "Yes, Rogue, I give you permission to
distract Logan from Jean and Scott--"
Crash! Came the sound of a door breaking somewhere in the mansion.
The Professor made another mark on his order sheet to 'Doors 'r Us'
and continued without skipping a beat,"--by whatever means necessary."
I gasped lightly. The words 'by whatever means necessary' was
running amok in my head. My mind boggled at the implications.
Shit. When the Professor wants something done, it better BE done! I
was suddenly glad I wasn't Logan. Or Magneto, or anyone that just
happen to rub Professor X the wrong way.
"Professor, I'm glad you're on our team," I muttered. The man was
full of surprises. And was it just me or did the old guy look. . .
Damn if the feeling wasn't infectious. I felt my lips slowly curve,
like a Cheshire cat. And I SHOULD have had a cat or something, you
know, to pet devilishly as I plot my diabolical plan. But I didn't
have a cat with me so I settled for rubbing my hands together in an
wicked manner. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was feeling pretty
dizzy thinking of all the possible methods of teaching Logan a
lesson. Is this what Jubilee felt like every time she narrowed in on
her victim? What a rush.
"Checkmate," Xavier said as I sat dazed.
I blinked. I lost.
Then why the hell was I not disappointed?
Maniacal laughter bubbled in my throat.
Because he ain't seen nothing yet.
* * *
Professor Charles Xavier watched as Rogue waltzed out of his office.
He could almost see the wheels in her head turning in warp speed.
Women. They were dangerous people, and he wasn't even thinking about
mutant women. This one was no exception. As if she really needed
his permission to do what women do best when it really counts.
'Poor man,' Xavier thought out of the respect for his fellow male
mutant, 'He won't know what hit him.'
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