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FIC: "Love Magic" (1/? - R/L - rated R)

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  • Donna Bevan
    Title: Love Magic (1/?) Author: Donna Rating: R Category: Logan/Rogue romance (i.e., foofy goodness) Summary: Inspired by a trip to a fortune teller,
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 5, 2000
      Title: Love Magic (1/?)
      Author: Donna
      Rating: R
      Category: Logan/Rogue romance (i.e., foofy goodness)
      Summary: Inspired by a trip to a fortune teller, Jubilee and Kitty
      convince Rogue to lay some mojo on Logan. The result? A lesson learned,
      and some good old-fashioned, mortifying fun!
      Disclaimer: Oh please. Whatever. Go lord it over someone else, greedy
      Marvel people. I know they're not mine. :)

      Dedication: For Tracy, wherever she is. If it hadn't been for bus rides
      and study hall and 1st period Chemistry, I never would have started writing
      like a maniac. And for Die and Misty and Nancy, who listened and read and
      didn't make fun of me.

      Author's Note: I don't claim to be a Tarot reader. Neither am I a
      practitioner of voodoo, wicca, the black arts, Santeria, or folk magic. ;)
      Basically, I have books. LOL All facts and conjectures in this fic have
      been gathered from various sources. If you want endnotes or a
      bibliography, I could probably humor you and write one. Maybe. It's been
      a while since I had to cite sources. ;) Anyway, what was my point? Oh
      yeah, don't mess with this stuff unless you know what you're doing.
      'Cause, you know…You never know. :)


      Artificial light flooded her bedroom, and Jubilation Lee's eyes popped
      open. Then she groaned. "Hellfire, Rogue…" she muttered.

      Her roommate stood by her dresser, digging around in a drawer and making a
      concerted effort to be quiet. "Sorry, Jubes. I didn't mean to wake you."

      "Sure," she mumbled, flipping over to face the wall. "Up at the ass crack
      of dawn every Saturday, Rogue…That's dedication." She smirked a little and
      clarified, "Or infatuation."

      "What're you over there babblin' about?" Rogue queried, gathering her thick
      hair into a high ponytail. "I can't hear you."

      "Come *on*, Rogue…When are you two gonna get past the foreplay, babe, and
      just go at it like weasels?"

      She could hear Rogue's long-suffering sigh in the dark quiet of the room.
      "He's just teachin' me to fight, Jubes. That's all."

      "Don't play innocent with me, sister," Jubilee admonished. "Four hours a
      week for six months, sweetie. What do you guys do? You roll around on the
      ground in the woods, wrestling, fighting over who gets to be on top. It's
      called dry humping, Rogue, and it *is* considered foreplay." A pillow hit
      the back of her head and she giggled, rolling over. She stopped short at
      the sight of her friend. "Damn, girl! You look *hot*!"

      Rogue was wearing a plain black catsuit similar in style to the leather
      uniforms worn by the team. On her hands were sleek leather gloves, and her
      feet were encased in sturdy boots. "You like it?" she asked, fidgeting
      nervously with the high collar.

      "Will you guys shut *up*?" Kitty groused from her bed across the room.

      Jubilee ignored her. "Maybe a little more suitable for nighttime
      maneuvers, but hey. My only gripe is that you're taller than me, so I
      can't borrow it." Then she flashed Rogue a wink and a grin. "Logan's
      gonna pop an artery."

      "What? It's comfortable, easy to move around in, covers almost my whole…"
      She trailed off, then sighed wistfully. "You think so?"

      "Oh yeah," Jubilee assured her confidently. "I don't think he's gonna be
      calling you 'kid,' that's for *damn* sure."


      "What in hell are you wearin', kid?"

      Rogue groaned silently as she dropped her gym bag to the ground. So much
      for Jubilee's prediction of Logan's reaction to her form-fitting attire.
      "It's called a catsuit, Logan. Ain't you ever seen one before?" She
      plopped down on a stump and tightened her boot laces.

      "Not without something on over it, I haven't," he retorted, shaking his
      head and turning away. "Jesus, Marie, you may as well just walk around
      naked." His words were an angry mutter, but they reached her ears easily
      through the still morning air.

      "Oh, if I walked around this place naked, it'd start a riot, sugar," she
      purred, rising to her feet and throwing one hip out in a provocative pose.
      "Don't doubt that for a minute."

      He didn't even turn around, just grunted, "If you say so, kid," in an
      irritated tone.

      She was starting to get pissed off. He wasn't supposed to chastise her
      wardrobe like a protective older sibling; he was *supposed* to be so
      gut-wrenchingly affected by it that he dragged her to the ground and--

      <Whoa, better not go there, Rogue.> Especially since Logan picked that
      moment to stretch lazily and yank his shirt over his head. "Since you're
      so covered, then, you won't mind if I take this off. It's hot as hell out
      here already."

      She stuck her tongue out at his back. His beautiful, glorious,
      should-be-damn-near-illegal back…Rogue glowered, all feminine outrage and
      wounded pride. It wasn't *fair* that the mere sight of his naked flesh
      should leave her practically panting. Not fair at all, considering the
      fact that he apparently wouldn't notice *her* naked body if she doused
      herself in Canadian beer and taped beef jerky to certain strategic places.

      Rogue grimaced at that mental picture, then shrugged. Whatever. You win
      some, you lose…some.

      She sighed.

      Damn, but Logan was one she didn't want to lose.

      He'd been back for half a year already, and time had flown. At first,
      she'd been hesitant to approach him at all; after all, she didn't really
      know how he saw the relationship they'd shared before his departure.

      It turned out that, much to her dismay, he viewed her as a little sister.
      She'd hoped that time passed and spent together would disabuse him of that
      notion, so she'd done the one thing she could think of; she'd asked him to
      teach her to fight.

      It wasn't merely a ploy to be near him. She needed to know how to protect
      herself and others. She was fairly sure that if she stayed on at the
      school after graduation, as she planned to, Professor Xavier would ask her
      to begin accompanying the team on missions.

      It was that thought that prompted her to ask Logan for help. The others
      had powers and abilities that would be useful in battle; she had only her
      skin as a weapon. It required close contact, and she could use her power
      only sparingly; the last thing she needed was a menagerie of people in her

      She'd sat in on the combat seminars led by Scott and Logan, but she knew
      she needed to learn more. She needed to learn what Logan, a seasoned bar
      brawler, knew.

      So they started meeting every Saturday morning in the woods near the
      campus. He taught her everything from evasive guerilla maneuvers to which
      spots hurt the most when kicked or punched. So far, she'd been a good
      student. She'd never bested Logan, of course, but she didn't expect to.
      He was Logan, and he was the best.

      She bounced in place as he turned around slowly, surveying the trees around
      them. "What are we workin' on today? More holds? I've got breakin', but
      I need more work on reversin'…"

      He quickly shook his head. "Uh-uh. Tracking the enemy."

      "Oh." Rogue grinned at him. "Hide and seek." She tilted her head from
      side to side, cracking her neck in a gesture she'd picked up from him.
      "Bring it on, Wolverine."

      He grinned wolfishly at her. "Close your eyes and count to ten, kid. Then
      catch me…if you can."


      He watched her from the shelter of a small stand of trees. It hadn't been
      hard to turn the tables on her, to make her the prey in this little exercise.

      Logan watched her stalk slowly, almost silently, through the woods. She
      was good, and getting better. His little Marie was turning out to be quite
      adept at good old-fashioned ass kicking, and he had to say it - he was
      proud of her. She had the foresight and self-awareness to understand what
      skills she needed to learn for her survival, and he admired her for that.
      Too many people would have just assumed that they could handle whatever the
      world threw at them, with little or no preparation.

      Marie was too smart for that.

      There had been a couple of times during their sessions when she'd actually
      put some hurt on him, which was impressive, seeing as how there were grown
      men twice her size who hadn't been able to do as much. Of course, he was
      always very careful not to hurt her, conscientiously pulling his punches
      whenever necessary. But he hadn't gone easy on her; she wanted to learn,
      and he would teach her.

      His eyes narrowed as she cocked her head, listening to the sounds around

      She was a born fighter, and she wasn't above fighting dirty if it came down
      to that. Like that damn skin-tight number she was wearing today. Jesus
      Christ, was she trying to kill him? Oh, he was sure she hadn't worn it for
      his benefit, but still…


      His eyes dropped to her ass, lovingly outlined by the suit. The way it fit
      her rounded body made him itch to mold fabric and flesh with his hands, to
      draw her up to the hardness of his body, let her feel what she did to him.

      He wanted her, and his body throbbed with it.

      He grimaced, shaking his head. Marie. He was thinking things like that
      about *Marie*, and that just wasn't acceptable. She trusted him, dammit,
      and he was going to make sure he never did anything to violate that trust.

      Slowly, ever so slowly, he crept forward.

      He kept his steps in time with hers, ducking behind trees and keeping out
      of sight when she swung around to monitor her surroundings. She was good.
      Her body language told him that she knew he was nearby, knew he had pulled
      a bait and switch, that *he* was stalking *her*. He could see an almost
      animal awareness on her face.

      She was good.

      He was better.

      He launched from behind the cover of trees and grabbed her from behind,
      locking her arms in front of her. She gave a startled yell, then began
      struggling to break free. Yeah, he'd like to see her get out of this one.
      She tried, he had to give her that. She bent forward at the waist,
      intending to use his own weight to flip him over her head and onto the ground.

      But Logan was suddenly very aware of their position - of her soft body
      pressed back into his, of her curved back, her ponytail flipped forward and
      brushing the forest floor. It sent a shock of something purely primal
      straight to his groin, and his body began to stiffen in reaction to the
      sight of her bent forward before him.

      He let her go as she moved forward, and she fell to her knees, immediately
      turning and lashing out behind her with a high side kick right to his gut.
      The blow caught him unawares, and he stumbled, falling and landing flat on
      his back.

      She was at his side in a flash. "Shit, Logan…I didn't hurt you, did I?"

      Her brown eyes were wide with concern, and the gloved hands she ran
      hesitantly over him had bits of soil and debris clinging to them. "No," he
      croaked. "Just caught me off guard is all."

      "Oh." She smiled and sat back on her heels, satisfied that he was okay.
      "You caught me a little off guard, too. Why'd you let me outta that hold?
      You had me, you know."

      <You had me, you know.> Somehow, by the time they got to his brain, the
      words had been translated, twisted, and meant something else entirely. "Uhh…"

      Her eyes narrowed, and she reached out and smacked him on the shoulder.
      "You weren't goin' easy on me, were you? 'Cause you can't do that. I need
      a teacher, and you're a damned good one. Always ridin' me, pushin' me

      Oh God, if only she knew how her innocent words were being interpreted by
      his lust-addled brain. He struggled into a sitting position, turning
      slightly away from her, trying to hide the evidence of his need for her.
      "I think that's enough for today, Marie. You'd better get on back and get

      Confusion darkened her eyes and she frowned at him. "But it's not even
      eight o'clock yet, Logan."

      "Did you forget about the field trip today?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

      She clapped a hand over her mouth, and he knew she had. "Hell, that's
      right…" She scrambled to her feet, dusting off the knees and seat of her
      catsuit. "You comin'?"

      He almost groaned. "In a few minutes, Marie. Can you find your way back?"

      She smirked and jerked her head to the right. "Sure, it's that way. You
      gonna be okay?"

      "Yeah," he grunted, wishing like all hell that she'd just get out of there
      before he dragged her down to his aching body and made her his any way he

      "All right. See you later, Logan." With that, she bounded off in the
      direction of the clearing where she'd left her bag.

      Logan was left to grit his teeth and climb painfully to his feet. Dammit.
      He had to get over this insane craving for her before he either went mad or
      did something he could only regret.


      Jubilee shoved another forkful of salad in her mouth and chewed
      thoughtfully. Throwing a glance at Kitty, then Rogue, she swallowed and
      sighed. "I can't take it anymore, Rogue!" she announced, her voice
      carrying easily through the small deli.

      Rogue jumped a little and coughed. "Geez, Jubes, you almost made me choke
      on my tea," she complained lightly. "What's up?"

      "You tell me," Jubilee replied, eyeing Rogue appraisingly.


      "Come *on*…You've been distracted and dreamy-eyed since you came back from
      your 'love hurts' sparring session with Logan this morning. Spill! What

      Rogue just shook her head and speared a breadstick with her fork. Studying
      it a bit forlornly, she mumbled, "Nothing."

      Jubilee didn't miss the quick glance she cast at Logan, who was sitting
      several tables away.

      The field trip Logan had reminded Rogue of earlier had been in the planning
      for weeks. Ten of the older students, along with Scott, Ororo, and Logan
      as chaperones, were spending the afternoon in New York City. They were
      going to do some sight-seeing, then catch a matinee showing of "The Phantom
      of the Opera" on Broadway. The group had taken the train in for lunch, and
      was now eating in a small but bustling delicatessen.

      Logan looked none too happy to be there. Rogue watched as he frowned at
      his steak and cheese sandwich, ignoring Scott and Ororo's conversational
      attempts. He looked up, directly at her, and Rogue grinned.

      He didn't return her smile. Instead, he looked away and frowned harder.

      "He's been staring at you, Rogue," Kitty noted. "Are you going to tell us
      what happened?"

      "Nothing," she reiterated, horrified to feel tears stinging her eyes. "Not
      a blessed thing."

      "Dammit, Kitty, now look what you've done…" Jubilee wrapped a careful arm
      around Rogue's shoulders. "Way to go."

      "Me??" Kitty exclaimed. "What, you asked, too!"

      "Yeah, but I didn't make her cry, Kit."

      "No, it's okay, I just--" Rogue stopped short and exhaled deeply, then
      rolled her eyes in an attempt at levity. "The big idiot still looks at me
      and sees a little kid, you know? And I don't thinks that's ever gonna
      change. Ever."

      They sat in silence for a few moments, then Jubilee whispered, "Holy shit,
      Rogue. You really do love him, don't you?" A miserable nod was her only
      answer. "Well, then, you're gonna have him," Jubilee declared, slapping
      her palm flat on the table. The silverware jumped and clattered. "You're
      gonna bag him, babe, and you're gonna do it within a week."

      "Uh-huh. And how are you proposin' I do that, seein' as how not even the
      slutty catsuit got his attention?"

      "I don't know yet, but I'll think of something." Jubilee frowned,
      perplexed. "I thought for sure that thing would knock him for a loop. I
      mean, hell, even Mr. Summers would have been having thoughts, you know?"

      Kitty waggled her eyebrows and grinned. "Ooh, Mr. Summers…Now *there's* a
      prime piece of man."

      Jubilee snorted, and Rogue giggled and shook her head. "Nah, he's too

      "He is not *pretty*," Kitty corrected, indignant. "He's gorgeous."

      The other two girls nodded in partial agreement. "Oh, he's a babe, all
      right," Jubilee conceded.

      "But he's no Logan," Rogue smirked.

      "Let's see, Mr. Summers shaves, he doesn't smoke stinky cigars, and his
      idea of a conversation isn't a grunt followed closely by a growl.
      Why…You're right!" Kitty gasped in mock amazement, pressing a hand to her
      mouth. "He's no Logan! What a shocker."

      Jubilee's giggles finally emerged. "You don't have to get so peeved, Kit.
      We're not downing Mr. Summers."

      While Jubilee and Kitty went on to enumerate Scott's most appealing
      qualities, Rogue hazarded another glance at Logan…then sucked in a breath.

      He was staring at her. This time, she didn't smile and he didn't look away.

      Finally, she did, dropping her eyes to her plate. She'd give anything to
      know what was going on inside his head.


      He'd give anything to know what she was thinking in that head of hers.
      Especially when she looked at him like she just had, all softness and warmth.

      It made him wonder.

      Logan scowled at his sandwich for the fiftieth time in half an hour. He
      couldn't stand it. It was bad enough that he was a depraved lech with an
      appalling case of lust for Marie, but to think that she might feel anything
      like that for him…

      It was just something he didn't need to think about. Full stop. End of

      But damned if he wasn't thinking…

      "What do you think, Logan?" Ororo's voice interrupted his reverie.

      "Huh?" He glanced at his lunch companions. Both were watching him

      Then Scott snorted. "That figures. He wasn't even listening," he said,
      and Logan wanted to smack the snarky look right off his face. "What Ororo
      was asking is, what do you think we should do about our hour of free time?
      Should we stay in one large group, bust into smaller ones between the three
      of us, or…" He gulped.

      "Or let the children make their own way for a while?" Ororo finished for him.

      "That's nuts, Ororo," Scott muttered. "We're in the middle of New York
      City, for crying out loud."

      She smiled gently and popped an olive in her mouth. "If you treat them
      like children, they'll act like them. But if you give them a chance to be
      adults, they'll take that any day. Trust me, Scott."

      "She's got a point, Summers," Logan conceded gruffly. "Besides, it's the
      middle of the day, and it's only for an hour. What the hell could they
      possibly get into?"

      Scott laughed a little and arched an eyebrow over his sunglasses. "Well,
      not everybody is as invincible as you are, Logan. They're just kids. What
      if something happened?" He tilted his head as a new argument occurred to
      him. "What if someone tried to kidnap Rogue, hmm?"

      Logan just snorted. "I feel real sorry for the poor prick who even thinks
      about trying it. Marie'd tear a huge-ass strip off him." He abandoned his
      sandwich and wished again that Scott had let him order a beer. He
      compromised by pulling an unlit cigar out of his pocket and chomping on it.
      "She can take care of herself."

      "Taught her everything you know, huh?" Scott smirked.

      Ororo laughed and winked at Logan. "I hope not, because *everything* Logan
      knows could get a girl in trouble."

      Logan froze, his face going dark. "I haven't touched her," he insisted
      harshly, and Ororo's mouth fell open.

      "I'm sorry, Logan, but you misunderstood. I didn't mean to imply that at
      all," she informed him kindly. "I was merely teasing."

      Logan forced himself to breathe. It was okay, it was fine. They didn't
      know his thoughts about Marie, they didn't know…

      He didn't notice the concerned look Scott and Ororo quickly exchanged.


      "It's easy to moon over a lost love - to fantasize over what might have
      been, secure in the knowledge that it'll never happen. It makes a great
      excuse for not facin' the risks and demands of reality."
      --Logan, "The Uncanny X-Men" (#183)

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