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Fic: Niagara Falls [PG-13 Rogue/Logan]

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  • D. Die
    Title: Niagara Falls Author: Diebin E-mail: diebin@hotmail.com Rating: PG-13 for a few bad words Summery: Logan comes home. An unauthorized fieldtrip ensues.
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 2, 2000
      Title: Niagara Falls
      Author: Diebin
      E-mail: diebin@...
      Rating: PG-13 for a few bad words
      Summery: Logan comes home. An unauthorized fieldtrip ensues.
      Archive: If I've said yes before, I'll say yes again. If I haven't--ask me.
      I'm easy.
      Disclaimers: Marvel and Fox. Bah humbug.
      Special thanks to: Caeryn, my big sis, who needs a hug so I'm giving her
      one, so to speak. A fic-hug. Misty, who is the one who told me to use
      Niagara Falls--I think it's pretty clear the fic would be lacking without
      it. Nancy, who chitter-chatted with me last night while I was struggling to
      just write SOMETHING, and Aya, who is doing a read through now as I write
      all my disclaimers. :)


      I have the strangest urge to go to Niagara Falls.

      I don't have a clue why, but I'm guessin' it's something to do with one of
      the visitors who are livin' inside my head. Considering where Niagara Falls
      is, it's a pretty safe bet it's Logan.

      Most of them have faded now, and I haven't touched anyone in a while, so no
      one new is knockin' around up there. It's almost peaceful being me, which is
      strange because I'm not used to that after a straight year of it being
      anything /but/ peaceful.

      Logan's on his way home. I always had this silly fantasy that he'd just show
      up one day, sneak into my room and settle down next to me, or show up behind
      me and growl, "Hey, kid," and everything would be good again.

      I never thought he'd call ahead and say he was coming. That's not very . . .
      well . . . very Loganish of him.

      But Logan's coming home, and all I can think of is how much I want to go to
      Niagara Falls.

      Strange thoughts for a girl whose supposed to be in love. Oh, for a while
      there I was pretty sure I'd gotten over him. It was probably the teasing--it
      got to the point where I didn't even dare wear his dog tags, because
      everyone knew I had them on and they'd go on for hours if I let 'em, makin'
      fun of me.

      So I packed them away and packed him away and merrily decided to move on
      with my life.

      That lasted all of a week. I guess all that time the Professor made me spend
      concentrating on /Marie/ inside my head made me really bad at lying to
      myself. I can't blame him though--I think I was even starting to startle him
      with the things flying outta my mouth, sometimes Logan, sometimes Magneto .
      . . but hardly ever me.

      So I spent lots of time looking into my head, and I can't say I'm totally
      happy with what I found. I'm an eighteen year old girl who is in love with a
      man who could be older than my grandfather. And this ain't the passing fancy
      Jean keeps assuring me it is. This is something else.

      I think it's surprising that Scott is the only one who understands. I don't
      know how I ended up telling him--but Scott is just one of those people. The
      kind who you can say anything to, because you know he actually cares. We
      were sittin' around one day after English class, talkin' about the essay I'd
      written on love. I guess it hadn't been as subtle as I'd thought it was--but
      next thing I knew I was telling Scott everything.

      Everything is a lot. I mean--I've got so many questions bubbling up because
      there /is/ no one I talk to about it--and all my worries and fears and my
      nervousness that even when he did come back, he'd never see me as anyone
      other than The Kid . . .

      I thought he'd disapprove and shake his head and tell me to stay away from

      He actually laughed. And then he said something I didn't understand.
      "Logan's got a surprise coming to him when he gets home expecting a little
      girl to be waiting. You'll be fine, Rogue. Don't worry about it."

      I went back to my room and stared in the mirror for an hour, trying to
      decide what had changed. Brown hair, brown eyes, white streaks, those were
      all the same. Maybe my lips were a little fuller, my face a little more

      Okay, and yes, my body hadn't exactly gotten flatter.

      But it didn't seem like it was enough. Jean and Storm and even Kitty and
      Jubes are all gorgeous too, more gorgeous than me, and they can /touch/ men.

      Seemed to me at the time that Scott was spinning moonbeams.

      It was right about that time that Logan called and said he was headed home.

      Right about that time I decided I needed to go to Niagara Falls.


      I was reading when he showed up. I heard the bike coming down the road and I
      looked up from the grass, watching him speed by. I considered jumping up and
      chasing him down--but there was something inside me--something that held me
      still. It felt almost like fear.

      So I just lay there as he rolled on by, but before he got too far down the
      road he slowed down and whipped the bike around, his chin tilted up in that
      funny way he has when he's smelling the wind.

      I rolled over onto my back and held still, and that thing that was almost
      like fear really was fear now, fear so strong I couldn't even move. I was
      terrified--of Logan--and I didn't know why.

      His voice was a low growl as he approached, the exact way I'd always thought
      it would be. "Hey, Marie."

      I stared up at him as he stopped at my head, his face upside down and
      smiling slightly.

      I wanted to jump to my feet and throw my arms around him. I wanted to open
      my mouth and say something.

      I wanted to run screaming. To Niagara Falls, damn it, and /why/ did I want
      to do that?

      "Ever been to Niagara Falls?" My voice comes out as a low croak.

      Logan freezes, his body tensing. "Once or twice." He tries, but he can't
      keep his voice casual.

      "Oh." I can move now. I crawl to my feet, give him a shaky smile, turn
      around--and bolt for the building so fast Logan's still staring after me in
      shock by the time I reach the door. I don't even pause--running until I
      reach the adult side of the building, the part where Jean and Scott and
      Storm live . . .

      Scott's in his room reading homework when I burst in, slamming the door
      behind me and leaning up against it as I try to catch my breath.

      Scott, bless him, just turns and waits, a small smile quirked on his lips.
      When I finally relax from my sprawl against the door and run a hand through
      my disheveled hair, he breaks out laughing.

      "So, Rogue, I take this to mean Logan is home?"

      "Don't make fun of me, damn it Cyke!" I snap, clamping my hand over my mouth
      moments later and giving him a wide-eyed look.

      He just keeps laughing, damn him. "Definitely Logan," he says finally,
      resting his elbow on the desk and propping his head up. "Why'd you run,

      "I--I don't know." And I didn't. With my heart rate finally slowing down, my
      actions seemed silly and no small bit childish.

      "I do," Scott says, giving me a smile.

      And then he just sits there.

      I groan. "Scott, you aren't being very nice, teasin' a girl like this. Is
      there something wrong with me?"

      "Go back to your room and think, Rogue. Just think--about everything. About
      him. About love." Scott stood, setting down the paper he'd been grading and
      taking Rogue carefully by the elbow. "When it's time to do something else,
      you'll know."

      "Scott--" I pause and turn to look at him. "What's at Niagara Falls?"

      Scott raises an eyebrow and taps one finger on the side of my head and I
      nod--that's our long established symbol for when somethin' from someone
      else's memories start affecting me.

      "Niagara Falls . . ." He's nice enough not to point out it's in Canada,
      because we both know who else is in Canada.

      Or was.

      "Lots of water. Tourists. Some nature. But mostly lots of water." Scott
      shrugs. "I don't know what else to say, Rogue."

      "That's okay."

      Before I can open the door, Jean opens it for me, her eyes widening slightly
      at finding me standing in her bedroom with her fianc´┐Że.

      I inch by her, sliding out and hurrying off down the hallway, but I don't
      move fast enough to miss their conversation.

      "What was that about?"


      "He's home?"

      "Yes, Jean, and let me tell you something--if I catch you trying to distract
      him from Rogue, I'll--"

      "Be serious, Scott."

      "I /am/ serious, Jean."

      "You think I even want to look at Logan when I could do this instead--"

      My cheeks flame as the door slams on Scott's muffled gasp, and I spin around
      the corner and directly into a hulking pile of flannel and jean.

      His eyes narrow at me as he sniffs then looks down towards the hallway I'd
      come from. "Wanna talk, Marie?"

      "I--" He's leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his pocket and body
      seeming almost relaxed. He looks good. Really good. Better than I
      remembered. "Scott said I needed to go to my room and do--something."

      "Something?" He quirks an eyebrow, and I'd swear he's trying not to laugh at

      Niagara Falls. I need to go there.

      Spinning around, I start back down the hallway. However, I only make it
      about a step before I feel an arm grab me around the waist and pull me
      around in a circle, swinging me into a--

      Supply closet?

      Logan yanks the door closed and leans over me in the dim light. "You are not
      running anywhere, Marie, until you talk to me. What is going on here?"

      "What, is this not going the way you expected?" I try to remember if I've
      ever touched Storm, because right now I'm feeling severely claustrophobic.

      "No, as a matter of fact, it isn't." Logan leans down so his eyes are level
      with mine, his face so close to me I freeze. If he gets any closer--hell,
      has he /forgotten/ what happens?

      "What," I drawl, trying to cover my fear. "Was I supposed to come fling
      myself into your arms, dog tags a jinglin' around my neck?"

      Logan blinks, his eyes dropping to my chest, partly bared by the lower cut
      shirt I was wearing. One of his eyebrows quirk as he reaches out carefully,
      fingers snagging the tags and lifting them up. "These tags?"

      I look down--and there they are, damn it. I must have put them on without
      even thinking about it. And one of the things I'd promised myself was that
      he wouldn't come back to find me wearing them like some lovelorn pathetic
      fool . . .

      I swear. Out loud, and rather profusely, using all the words I can remember
      that Logan ever knew, and a few I'd picked up from Magento.

      The tags fall back to my chest, and Logan's face breaks out into a feral
      smile. "Well, that answers that," he says with a low rumble, his hand
      falling to my hip, and for the first time I realize he's wearing gloves.

      That's all I realize, all I have time to realize. Because then he's kissing

      Oh, not on the mouth--I don't think he's got a death wish, but his mouth is
      on my shoulder, the wet heat soaking through my shirt and sending shots of
      insane need through my body.

      I usually hate that feeling. Because even if someone could think of a way to
      do something about it--no one has ever been interested enough to try. Or
      brave enough.

      I guess Logan's both, because he don't seem like he's plannin' on stopping
      any time soon. So I have to do it for him, planting my hands on his
      shoulders and shoving.

      He blinks at me, obviously startled, before paling. "Marie--did I--"

      "Tell me about Niagara Falls," I demand, crossing my arms over my chest so
      he doesn't notice they're trembling.

      "In here?" He gestures around at the closet. "This ain't exactly the most
      comfortable place for a chat."

      "You seemed perfectly comfortable here a few minutes ago." God, I'm shakin'
      bad. My body is thinkin' I'm crazy, pushing away a touch--an actual
      touch--and from the man I'm sure I'm in love with too.

      But damn if the first time I get to really get touched is going to happen in
      a school supply closet.

      Logan closes his eyes. "I go to Niagara Falls when something is about to
      change in my life and I can feel it. There's something there that appeals to
      me--at night, when it's not crawling with tourists--the power of the water
      crashing down. It's so much change--never the same water for more than an
      instant. It makes me feel . . . better. Better about change."

      Damn. Who'da known Logan had the soul of a poet.


      His eyes slide open, and he quirks an eyebrow. "Yeah, Marie?"

      "Do you feel like you need to go there now?" My arms are trembling even
      worse now, so bad I think my body's rattling around.

      He draws in a ragged breath, closing his eyes again. "More than anything."

      "Change." I say the word softly, taking a step forward. Niagara falls is
      supposed to be beautiful. "Will you take me there?"

      "Now?" I can tell that appeals to him, the way his eyes light up as they
      stare at me. "I'd--wouldn't we get in trouble?"

      I raise an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to mean you care about getting in
      trouble? Dear God, Logan, what happened to you?"

      He takes it as the challenge it was meant to be. I'm trapped against his
      body a moment later, hands sliding down my back to my hips, pulling me tight
      against him with a little moan.

      I lean up on tiptoe and whisper into his ear. "Not in the supply closet,

      He growls again, one hand sliding up my back to tangle in my hair, tilting
      my head back. "Where then, Marie?"

      It doesn't take much thought. "Niagara Falls."

      We're out of the closet and half way to the door before I can blink a second
      time. "Logan--don't I need to get some clothes or--"

      "I'll buy 'em if you need 'em."

      Scott watches us fly by with a shocked face, standing up from where he and
      Jean are tinkering with his new bike. "Hey--what's going on?"

      Logan pauses, looking back at Scott and Jean. "Hey Cyke, heya Jennie. Long
      time no see. Nice bike. Love to chat, got somewhere to go." His hand closes
      on mine again, tugging me towards where he parked his bike.

      I am so going to get suspended for this. Grounded too. Probably confined to
      campus until I'm thirty--

      I don't care.

      "Rogue--wait! Where are you going?"

      Logan pulls me onto his bike behind him, kicking the stand up and bringing
      the engine roaring to life.

      Wrapping one arm around Logan's waist, I turn around and smile at Scott.
      "Found out what's in Niagara Falls," I call out.

      Scott putts his hands on his hips. "And what exactly would that be?"

      The bike is squealing out of the driveway as I respond, so the wind whips
      the word from my lips. I think he still hears though.



      Darth Diebin
      Loyal Bodyguard to the President of PETS
      -=People for the Ethical Treatment of Scott=-
      Keeper of All of her Own Fic

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