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Fic: The Object of His Affections: L/R: 1/2

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  • victoria_p@att.net
    Title: The Object of His Affections Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@att.net] Summary: He was slowly coming to the conclusion that he had *feelings* for her,
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 14, 2002
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      Title: The Object of His Affections
      Author: Victoria P. [victoria_p@...]
      Summary: "He was slowly coming to the conclusion that he
      had *feelings* for her, and he didn't want to fuck it
      up. He was at the stage right now where he wouldn't
      admit it to anyone -- least of all the object of his
      affections -- but he'd moved beyond his initial
      disbelief at the idea into the adrenaline rush of the
      first blush of infatuation."
      Rating: PG-13 for language, I guess
      Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and
      Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no
      infringement on any copyrights.
      Archive: Lists, Muse's Fool.
      Feedback: Rotates my tires.
      Notes: Thanks to Jen, Pete/Melissa, Dot, and Meg. Pete
      owes me a dollar.

      The Object of His Affections

      Logan sat at the kitchen table, reading _The New York
      Times_. He was luxuriating in the silence. It was the
      Fourth of July weekend, and most of the kids had taken
      off for points unknown. Sure, he missed Marie, but it
      was almost worth it to have Jubilee and the other noisy
      brats gone for three whole days.

      She'd gone with Jubilee and Kitty up to the mountains
      for the weekend. Something about a Fireworks Festival up
      by Lake George. He hadn't paid much attention, because
      he'd been watching NASCAR.

      They were supposed to be getting home sometime that
      afternoon, and he couldn't help but feel a little
      excited at seeing Marie again.

      His thoughts had been turning to her more and more
      lately, and not just as his best friend and drinking
      buddy. He was slowly coming to the conclusion that he
      had *feelings* for her, and he didn't want to fuck it
      up. He was at the stage right now where he wouldn't
      admit it to anyone -- least of all the object of his
      affections -- but he'd moved beyond his initial
      disbelief at the idea into the adrenaline rush of the
      first blush of infatuation.

      It was strange -- he'd gone that first time, and stayed
      away for six months before he'd been overwhelmed with
      the urge to go home. First off, the whole idea that he
      -- Wolverine -- had a home was ludicrous. Second of all,
      that he had missed Marie -- that he had missed *anyone*
      -- was not something he was prepared to deal with,
      either then, or now, five years later. He continued to
      occasionally go away, but like a magnet draws iron (or
      adamantium, in his case), he always came home, drawn by
      Marie's inexorable pull.

      He realized that the whole thing was going to require
      delicate handling. First off, telling her. He wasn't
      sure she wouldn't just laugh in his face. He had spent
      so much time complaining to her about how Jean had
      broken his heart that he wondered if Rogue would even
      believe him if he said he loved her.

      Then there was explaining it to everyone else in the
      mansion, who thought their relationship was sweet and
      cute and brotherly -- all sorts of things that raised
      his hackles, because they weren't things associated with
      the Wolverine. Or they hadn't been, before Marie.

      And he'd certainly never thought of himself as her
      father or brother, despite what Scott or Hank might say.

      Not to mention the age thing.

      He rubbed his forehead when he thought about how One-Eye
      was going to react to that. It would be a hassle, sure,
      but it would worth it just to get under the bastard's

      He knew he was already freaking them all out by flirting
      with her, though she didn't seem to notice any change in
      his behavior at all.

      The day wore on, and he began to get impatient as the
      kids returned in small groups from their trips, but
      there was no sign of Marie or her friends. By seven that
      night, he was climbing the walls.

      "She's supposed to be here, 'Ro," he growled to the
      weather goddess, who smiled sympathetically and patted
      his arm. "Stop that! Stop humoring me. Where the hell is
      Chuck? Can't he get on the brainphone and find out where
      Marie is?"

      "And Kitty and Jubilee, as well," Storm reminded him.

      "Yeah. Them, too," he said, though they hadn't even
      entered into his thoughts.

      "I will mention it to him when he calls, Logan, but he
      is on vacation, also. I'm sure the girls just got caught
      up in the festivities and left late. The traffic is
      probably terrible. They will be home soon."


      He stalked off and Storm let her laughter ring out. Who
      would have expected the Wolverine to be such a
      worrywart? But then, where Rogue was involved, his
      responses couldn't be predicted. Who'd have thought he'd
      stick around for so long, taking his promise to protect
      her so seriously? Certainly not any of the X-Men. Yet he

      He'd also proved to be a damned fine self-defense and
      martial arts instructor. He was so good that she and
      Charles no longer worried quite as much about the
      younger ones joining the team when it was time. And she
      knew Scott was happy to let Logan handle the combat
      training, allowing him the freedom to focus on tactics
      and planning, his own strengths as a commander.

      All in all, the situation had worked out very well
      indeed, over the past few years, though she knew neither
      Logan nor Scott would ever admit to it.

      Shaking off such serious thoughts, Ororo made herself a
      cup of tea and headed up to her room for a night of
      backgammon with Hank.


      First light found Logan back in the kitchen, once again
      reading the paper, waiting impatiently for Marie to come
      down. He hadn't checked, but he was sure she must have
      come in sometime during the night, after he'd gone out,
      his anxiety over her non-appearance driving him to find
      a fight bar in the Bronx. On the upside, he'd won over
      three thousand dollars. On the downside, he realized he
      had no interest in the pretty fight groupie who'd been
      hitting on him. That had been new. He'd just wanted to
      be home early to see his Marie.

      Who apparently wasn't here.

      He waited through the breakfast hour, earning himself a
      hard stare from Joyce, the mansion's cook, who could be
      heard muttering about stupid men who got underfoot and
      didn't belong in the kitchen.

      He took it in stride. It was a game they played. She'd
      groan and grumble until he brought her a brace of
      rabbits or a freshly killed deer and some compliments
      about her venison stew. That would buy him a few weeks'
      grace to hang around the kitchen and smoke in peace.

      But then he would do something like leave his empty beer
      bottles in the sink or finish off the roast she was
      planning to use for sandwiches and the game would begin

      Taking a long drag off his cigar, he folded the paper
      and thought about what to do with himself. The worry was
      gnawing at his insides -- a feeling he wasn't used to
      and didn't like. He was about to head out for a trip
      into town on the bike when the phone rang. And rang. And

      "Goddammit," he muttered, after it rang seven times and
      no one picked up. Apparently, someone had forgotten to
      turn the answering machine on again. He grabbed the
      phone and barked, "Xavier's Freakshow."


      "Hey, kid, what's wrong?" He knew something was wrong,
      and his brain immediately conjured up images of Magneto
      and Sabretooth attacking the young woman he had fallen
      in love with. "Where the hell are you?"

      "Um, the car broke down, Logan, and we're stuck."

      He forced himself to slow his breathing. "You're okay?"

      "We're fine, sugar. Just hot and tired. Could Scott come
      and get us?"

      Why the hell would she ask for the Boy Scout? "I'll
      come. Where are ya?"

      "Harriman. At the Mobil Station." He heard her ask
      someone for the directions and then she repeated them to

      She was about to hang up when he said, "You sure you're
      all right, Marie?"

      He heard the sigh and could see the face she was making,
      first the eye-roll, then the nose-scrunch. He didn't
      even stop to think how girly it was to know that. He
      also didn't realize how he gave away his worry by using
      her real name.

      "I'm fine, Logan. I may kill Jubilee if you don't get
      here soon, but that's par for the course."

      "Yeah. Okay. See you in a little while."

      "Be careful," she said. "Wear your seatbelt."

      "Sure, kid."


      Rogue hung up the phone and looked at Kitty. Jubilee was
      off flirting with the gas jockey. "How can she take him
      seriously in those coveralls?" Kitty said.

      "I don't mind the coveralls, but you'd think he could
      learn not to bathe in the Paco Rabanne," Rogue replied,
      shielding her eyes and looking over to where Jubilee was
      animatedly conversing with said wage slave. Kitty
      laughed and Rogue continued, "Maybe she can talk him
      into buying us some food. I am *starving*."

      Kitty looked abashed at that. It was her fault the
      credit card was over the limit. She'd just *had* to have
      that first edition of "Newton's Optical Lectures." She
      *knew* both Hank and Professor Xavier would be thrilled
      to add it to the school's collection, and the nine
      thousand, five hundred dollar price was a good one, she
      was sure.

      Of course, their credit limit was only ten thousand
      dollars, and they'd spent a few hundred over the
      weekend, which meant they had been unable to stay in a
      motel the night before, or pay to get the car fixed.

      Jubilee had run the battery down on the cell phone and
      they couldn't find a pay phone.

      Which is a very long way of saying that the three young
      women spent the night in their un-air-conditioned,
      nineteen-ninety-eight Dodge Neon. Having only enough
      cash between them to afford one super-sized two
      cheeseburgers meal from the McDonald's across the way,
      they were now hot, hungry and heartily sick of each
      other's company.

      "So, what'd Logan have to say?"

      "He's coming to get us."

      "Whew." Kitty smiled.

      They were far less likely to get a lecture from Logan
      than Scott, a fact not lost on any of them, which was
      why Rogue had been the one making the call. She had
      Logan wrapped around her little finger, even if he
      wouldn't admit it, though she probably could have gotten
      Scott to do anything she wanted, as well.

      Kitty sighed. The power of a pair of deep brown, puppy
      dog eyes never ceased to amaze her. Even over the phone.

      "Yeah. He sounded weird, though. Worried."

      "Well, we were supposed to get home yesterday, Rogue."

      "Yeah. But it was more than that. He called me, 'Marie.'
      You know he never does that unless he's really worried
      or upset."

      "He doesn't like it when you go off without him. He's
      afraid Sabretooth is going to get you," Kitty said.

      "Nah, he's afraid you're going to find a boyfriend or
      something and you won't be his Marie anymore," Jubilee
      cracked, joining them. "Overalls-boy is going to buy us
      some food. What do you want?"

      "Eggs and pancakes and --" Kitty began when Rogue

      "Hold on a second. What do you mean, he's afraid I'm
      going to find a boyfriend? I've had boyfriends. I
      brought Chad home--"

      "And he pissed his pants when Wolvie growled at him,"
      Jubilee answered.

      "He liked Luke--"

      "Luke was gay," Kitty said bluntly. "The only reason
      Logan let him get near you was because he knew Luke
      would never get you into bed."

      "He was not gay!"

      Kitty and Jubilee exchanged an exasperated look.

      "Okay, sure," Jubilee said, obviously humoring her.
      "That's why he dumped you and ended up in the sack with

      "He did not dump me! It was mutual! And -- What?

      Kitty and Jubilee nodded. "Queer as a three-dollar
      bill," Jubilee said.

      "But, but--"

      "Admit it, Rogue. You're a fag hag. Which is fine, you
      know, if you never want to actually get laid by someone
      who knows what he's doing. But if you want to get Logan
      between the sheets, you're going to have to bring home
      some real competition."

      "Jubes?" Rogue asked when this extraordinary speech was


      "Shut the fuck up."

      Jubilee and Kitty exchanged glances again. "If that's
      what you want, Rogue," Jubilee said, affecting a wounded

      "It took me a long time to get over Logan. I don't want
      to go through that again, okay? I know he sees me as his
      little sister or something."

      Jubilee snickered. "Yeah, that's why he gets so upset
      when you go out on dates and stuff."

      "That's his big brother act," Rogue protested. "You
      know, 'hurt my sister and I'll kill you.' He does it for
      you guys, too."

      "He does Big Brother Wolvie for me and Jubilee," Kitty
      agreed, "but with you, he's all big bad Wolverine, the
      Sex Machine. The way he flirts with you--"

      Rogue laughed so hard she choked. "Flirts? With me?
      Logan?" She had to lean against the car to remain
      upright, her arms clasped across her belly.

      "He doesn't pull either of us onto his lap for tickle
      fights," Kitty pointed out. "Or let us snuggle up under
      the quilt on the couch with him during the playoffs."

      "And he never stares at *my* ass when I'm walking away,"
      Jubilee said. "Or touch me all the time, even when he
      doesn't have to."

      "But he's always been like that," Rogue protested. "He
      knows how important physical contact is for me, and for
      the longest time, he was the only one not afraid to
      touch me." She stopped, then, to think about his

      He *had* changed.

      He'd always been touchy, yes. He'd hugged her and let
      her rest her head on his shoulder when they watched
      television, but that was it. He'd always known about her
      crush on him. She knew that. They'd had an awkward,
      oblique conversation about it upon his return from
      Canada the first time, where he'd basically told her she
      was too young for him and he was in love with Jean.

      He'd always been careful not to lead her on, to make her
      think he was interested in more from her. He kept his
      behavior friendly, never crossing the line to

      Until recently.

      "He's been flirting with me," she repeated weakly. Her
      friends nodded in agreement. She continued to lean
      against the car, afraid her suddenly-wobbly legs
      wouldn't hold her. "Oh, God."




      The Muse's Fool:
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