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"Chaos Theory" (2b/3, Ensemble, Marie POV)

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  • Marguerite
    He balanced above her, his lean, supple body rubbing against the sheet that separated them. Always a quick thinker, Scott had made one little rent in the
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 6, 2004
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      He balanced above her, his lean, supple body rubbing against
      the sheet that separated them. Always a quick thinker, Scott
      had made one little rent in the material. Always a teacher,
      Scott had started to tell her about some Central American
      wedding-night customs before Marie had kissed him into
      silence.

      The kissing part was good. Better than the original flurry
      of nerves, all this tasting and sampling and experimenting.
      Better than the sharp pain she couldn't conceal.

      Marie wanted to pretend, but it was no use; even with her
      eyes closed she knew damn well the difference between
      Bobby's gangly body and Scott's sinewy one. No, fantasizing
      wouldn't help, because there could be no substitute for
      Logan's muscular bulk. Because Scott had the visor on, Marie
      couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not, but judging
      from the difficulty he was having, he probably was.

      It didn't help that she was scared, that she was tightening
      herself in all the wrong places, making the discomfort last
      far longer than it needed to. It wasn't discomfort, it was
      pain, dammit, and she could tell that it hurt Scott to cause
      her pain, and this was so very much not the way she'd
      imagined this moment would be.

      But she wanted him inside her, so she tamped down the fear
      and made herself relax enough to let him in. Another jolt of
      pain, and another, sharper one, and it was done.

      I'm fucking Mr. Summers, she thought, knowing she was living
      out a fantasy for the girls and maybe even a couple of the
      guys. However, visualizing the imaginary reaction of her
      classmates wasn't going to make this any more pleasurable.

      "You don't have to do this," Scott gasped as Marie winced in
      discomfort. "I can stop. I can stop."

      His voice didn't have the desperate edge she knew all too
      well from Bobby's well-intentioned fumblings. Thing was, he
      could stop, and she could stop, and they'd probably never
      have to mention it again.

      Hell, that would be too easy.

      "Don't stop," she breathed into his open mouth.
      "Please...please..." Erase it all, she thought as Scott
      moved inside her. Just erase it all.

      It took an eternity for Scott to reach orgasm. For a moment,
      Marie thought he might have faked it, but the condom sounded
      heavy when he threw it into the wastebasket. He wrapped her
      in the sheet and cradled her in his arms, her back against
      his chest, careful not to touch bare skin. "I'm so sorry,"
      he whispered.

      "Yeah, that's what you want to hear your first time," Marie
      groaned. As tired as she was, her body still pinged with
      need. Scott stroked her, his capable hands - experienced,
      she reminded herself, experienced with Jean, Jean, always
      Jean - stroking everywhere it was safe and even flicking
      over unsafe, uncovered skin.

      He tugged at the fingers of her left glove. "I need this,"
      he said softly. "Or another one."

      Marie held out her hands and let Scott pull off her left
      glove. "I do this left-handed," he murmured.

      "Do what?" she began to ask, but it turned into a ragged
      intake of breath when his gloved fingers reached between her
      thighs. "Jesus Christ, Mary, Joseph, five saints, and three
      LAMBS!"

      This part was good. It was amazing, brilliant, confounding,
      delightful... She didn't remember the alphabet anymore,
      didn't remember anything but this feeling that washed away
      anything related to conscious thought. She liked that he
      didn't always know exactly what she needed; the element of
      surprise when he connected with the right speed or the right
      spot was sheer heaven.

      And he got the timing and the spot right more and more often
      as he kept going, kept going...

      "Scott!" she shrieked. He put his bare hand over her mouth
      to quiet her and she felt the first tickle of his powers.
      For a second she understood everything that was going
      through his complex mind - the lust, of course, and his
      genuine delight at her pleasure. His embarrassment at having
      kept condoms in his nightstand in case Jean changed her mind
      and returned to him. But most of all, she knew he was deeply
      ashamed.

      Whatever was happening behind his visor would always be a
      mystery to Marie, but she could see by the set of his jaw
      and the twitching of his lips that he was about to spiral
      down into self-loathing.

      "I wanted this as much as you did," Marie said, hoping to
      forestall Scott's inevitable gloom.

      "But I'm older. I should know better." He pulled her closer,
      wincing at the bloodstains on the bed and on their shared
      glove. "Oh, my God."

      "I'm fine," Marie insisted. She turned around to give him a
      quick kiss, enough to tingle but not enough to sap his
      strength any further. "I need to get cleaned up before
      dinner or Ororo will roast me."

      "Wait, I'll put on some clothes and make sure the coast is
      clear." He looked somehow more naked, more vulnerable,
      because of the glasses. He slipped into sweatpants, keeping
      his back to Marie. She admired the sleekness of his body, no
      matter the angle. It was too bad he kept it covered with
      loose shirts and pants all the time.

      Scott opened the door a little and looked up and down the
      hall. "Go. Fast."

      Marie bolted off the bed and raced into her own room.
      Quickly turning the shower up full blast, she let the
      bedsheet fall to her feet and turned toward the mirror.

      Not much different. Her lips were a little puffy and she had
      flushed cheeks, but the Big Traumatic Change, the neon sign
      saying "I've just had sex" - those were nowhere in evidence.
      By the time she had showered and dressed again, she looked
      no different than she had before. Before.

      Scott, on the other hand, looked like hammered hell when he
      came down to dinner. To be sure, not a hair was out of place
      and his clothing was immaculate, but he was white as a
      sheet. Marie had to stifle a giggle when she remembered how
      they had used his sheet, then she had to suppress the whole
      memory because she was eating dinner with not one but two
      telepaths.

      Logan and Jean were joining them.

      This was going to be worse than the Thanksgiving when her
      dog got into the turkey.

      It didn't start off too badly. Jean seemed to be mostly
      Jean, although she was very much on edge. Logan almost
      smiled at her when he went past, although she nearly had a
      heart attack when he stopped near Scott's chair and sniffed
      lightly. Surely, surely Scott had taken a shower at least
      as scalding as her own. Whatever Logan learned from his
      olfactory sampling, he didn't let it show on his face.

      Hank and Jean provided most of the chatter as they talked
      about medicine in terms that went over everyone else's
      heads. Something about tissue regeneration and the changes
      in Jean's eyes. Marie didn't understand it. She kept
      focusing on her plate and trying not to look at Scott.

      The Professor, Hank, and Jean were fascinated by Marie's
      ability to transfer Logan's healing power to someone who had
      been exposed to her touch. Particularly Jean, who positively
      beamed at Marie. There was a time when Jean's admiring smile
      would have made Marie feel like an empress, but tonight it
      just made her feel cheap. Cheap and guilty. She reached for
      her glass and it spilled, just as her blood had spilled on
      the sheets.

      "Marie, are you all right?" Scott asked. Too quickly, too
      protectively. And had he ever called her by her real name
      before? Logan's eyes widened. Oh, holy hell.

      He looked from her to Scott and back again. Of course he
      could smell her blood, and he was probably smelling some
      remnant of her on Scott. She felt a presence in her mind,
      like before, and suddenly Jean was watching Scott's face as
      he watched Marie slip out of her clothes...

      "Jean," the Professor said sternly. "Don't invade the girl's
      privacy."

      Her eyes glowed copper as Jean remarked, "Especially since
      the girl is now a woman."

      It was like a comedy - forks dropping into plates, Ororo
      half-choking on a piece of bread, Jean simpering as Scott
      turned blood-red. Bobby getting up so abruptly that his
      chair hit the floor with a loud crush of wood on wood. Yes,
      a dining-room comedy with her as the unwitting star.

      Bobby turned toward Logan with fury, but Logan was looking
      at Scott.

      Marie felt the jolt of disgust that wracked Bobby's entire
      body. Felt the betrayal and the surge of icy anger. But she
      wasn't prepared for Bobby to shove Scott hard into the wall,
      screaming, "I am gonna freeze your fucking balls off, you
      son of a bitch!"

      "Bobby!" shrieked Marie. "Stop!"

      He did, ironically frozen in mid-gesture with Xavier's green
      eyes focused on him. "Let him go. Sit down," Xavier said as
      if inviting him to tea.

      Bobby obeyed, his face blank except for spots of color on
      his cheeks. His hands were still tinged blue with ice.

      Xavier sighed. "It's not unheard of for people placed in
      close quarters to develop affection for one another. After
      all, that's what originally brought Scott and Jean
      together."

      "Marie and I were talking about that just a few hours ago It
      did not occur to me in any way, shape, or form that she
      would misinterpret my words," Hank said. Marie could endure
      the Professor's coldness and Jean's snide abuse, but Hank's
      disappointment felt like acid dripping on her soul. "She may
      be of legal age now, Scott, but older and wiser heads should
      have prevailed."

      "I don't disagree with you," Scott said. He looked miserable
      as he slumped in his seat and put his head in his hands.

      "Chaos theory," Hank murmured. "Change one thing, change the
      entire world."

      "Chaos theory, my ass! How could you do it?" Logan, now,
      turning on Scott. Scowling. Claws emerging, ready to
      eviscerate him. "You sick bastard, how could you do it?"

      No longer passive, Scott stared Logan down. "Why do you
      care? Jean wasn't enough? You want her, too?"

      "I promised to protect her. Hell of a job I'm doing," Logan
      growled. He glanced at her, making her face flush with
      shame. "I oughtta open your fucking intestines, Cyclops."

      "Why, so you can go after her next? How much of what I care
      about will you try to take from me? How much of my life are
      you going to destroy?"

      It was the same uncontrolled fury they had seen in Xavier's
      study the day Jean had come back to them. Scott was normally
      so correct, so in command of everything in his mind and
      heart. When the emotions behind them were unleashed...

      "It's my fault." Jean's eyes were closed, tears darkening
      her lashes. "The Phoenix - there's a link that she uses to
      strengthen herself."

      "Who, Jean," the Professor asked urgently, reaching out to
      stroke her hand. "Is it Scott?"

      "No." Jean shook her head and opened her eyes. "It's Rogue."

      Marie started to shake all over. "Why me? Why is she linked
      to me?"

      "Because you slept with her fiance," Bobby snapped. Marie
      slapped him, a glancing blow that left her palm cold and
      stiff.

      Jean reached toward them with her free hand. "No. It was
      like that from the start. It was when she - we - got close
      to Marie that I started to lose control of myself. Maybe
      it's the bond she has with both Logan and Scott, I don't
      know, but I can't make it stop when I'm around her! She's
      the catalyst!" With that, she ran out of the room.

      Scott tried to follow her out, only to be stopped by Logan's
      outstretched arm. "Let her go. Let her think it out."

      "He's right," Xavier added. "This is the first breakthrough
      in months. If she gets enough of herself back to talk to me
      - really talk to me, this time - then perhaps we can put an
      end to this whole disaster."

      Scott broke free of Logan and stood with his legs slightly
      apart and his hands on his hips. It was his leader pose, and
      even though he was a couple of inches shorter than Logan, it
      was effective. "You got what you wanted. Now get out of my
      way."

      "Scott--"

      "Don't!" He put his hand up, palm outward. Maybe it was only
      Marie who saw the slight tremor. "Don't ever call me by that
      name."

      "Okay," Logan mumbled. "Cyclops. Whatever, whoever, it's
      just a matter of time before we get Jean back and YOU get
      Jean back. If you want to spend the time in between with a
      woman, I can't say as I blame you. Just not HER." He
      inclined his head toward Marie, who flinched at the absolute
      fury she saw in his eyes. "Or if it's her, then let me tell
      you this: you hurt her, I kill you, is that clear?"

      Scott's laughter was a shock. "Death, killing, it's all you
      think care about. Life is just something to pass the time
      until you can kill someone else." He put his hand at Logan's
      throat. "You can only juggle life and death so many times,"
      he hissed. "I just hope I get to be there when you finally
      fuck it up."

      "Maybe I already have," Logan said quietly. He moved Scott's
      hand without much effort, then walked over to Marie and
      knelt by her side. "Marie. Marie, look at me."

      She did, and what she saw in his deep hazel eyes made her
      breath catch in her throat. "What?" she asked, trying to
      sound sullen instead of mesmerized.

      "I told you I'd take care of you, that day on the train with
      Magneto. And I meant it. It's been crazy, kid, I won't lie
      to you, and I got swept up in all the craziness right along
      with you. But this is something I can't help you with. You
      have to decide if this is what you want. If he's what you
      want. If he is, then I won't say another word to you or
      anyone else about it."

      Marie looked around the table. At Bobby, so desperately
      hurt. At the Professor and Hank, profoundly disappointed,
      and Ororo, deeply shocked. Then at Scott, imagining his eyes
      behind the inscrutable ruby quartz, remembering the feel of
      his body next to hers, how much he wanted her. Needed her.

      She put her gloved hands on either side of Logan's face. "He
      needs me," she whispered brokenly. Leaning closer, she
      whispered into his ear, "I think he'd die without me."

      Giving Logan up forever. Right here, right now, this second,
      she was telling him she was giving him up forever. It should
      hurt more, she thought, but I'm so damn tired.

      Logan whispered back, his breath laced with coffee and
      cigars. "I think you're right." He pulled away and spoke to
      everyone, even though he was looking at the Professor.
      "Marie's had to pick up a lot of pieces lately. Between all
      the people marchin' around in her head and women returning
      from watery graves and such, she's probably more stressed
      than we know. So if Cyclops don't mean her no harm, then I
      don't see that it's any worse him being twenty-six and
      sleeping with her when she's eighteen than when Jean was
      twenty-six and Cyclops was eighteen."

      Hank's face was twisted into a grimace that he was
      unsuccessfully trying to hide with a smile. "Come see me
      about protection," he said to Marie as he abruptly left the
      room.

      "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Marie sobbed. "I didn't mean
      for anything like this to happen. We've just been so...so
      lonely." She rested her head on her folded arms and wept as
      much as she had for Jean's death. This was her death, the
      death of the last vestige of her innocence, and probably the
      death of the X-Men.

      "It is not, my child," Xavier said, reading her thoughts
      unobtrusively. "We are not a shattered remnant standing on a
      distant shore. We are together and we have a common goal.
      That is what will get us through until a solution is found.
      I promise you that the X-Men will not dissolve in the acid
      of our own self-destruction." He turned to Bobby. "I
      understand your heartache better than you know. Nothing
      heals that affliction better than absence. You can try and
      reconnect with your parents, or you can travel to distant
      lands so you can use all those languages you've learned. If
      that is what you want, then I will take care of the
      arrangements. Then, when you are ready to return to us, you
      will be welcome."

      Bobby nodded. He gave Marie one last bleak, longing look.
      "Can't you?" he asked.

      She shook her head. "No, I can't. I'm so sorry, Bobby."

      He looked a little like Scott as he rose slowly and
      straightened himself up. "Then I'll go pack." Without
      waiting for an answer, he walked between Logan and Scott and
      left the dining room.

      "I think," Ororo said, her melodious voice breaking some of
      the tension, "that Marie should get some rest. We can talk
      with Jean and see how much better her 'control' is once
      she's not involved in a link with Marie."

      "You're right," Scott said. He put his hand at the small of
      Marie's back. "I'll walk her to her room. Her. Room," he
      said, enunciating the words so Logan would back away. "I'll
      be right back."

      The other students gave them a wide berth. Jean gave them a
      quizzical look as they passed her at the foot of the stairs.
      "We're going to meet in the Professor's study," Scott said.
      "Marie is going to lie down for a while."

      Jean said nothing, but Marie saw a simpering smile she
      longed to wipe away with her fists. If only she weren't so
      tired, she thought as Scott lifted one edge of her scarf and
      kissed her through it. If only she weren't so tired, she
      thought again as she lay down on her bed.

      If only the world weren't coming to an end, she thought as
      restless sleep took hold of her and pulled her under its
      dark, churning waters.

      ***

      "You don't want to tempt the wrath of whatever from high atop the thing!"--Toby Ziegler, "Election Night"

      http://4dw.net/marguerite
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