DoFP fanfic
It only took me like half of a year.
the more things change...
Thanks to Jamie, SJ and Margaret for the beta work. A thank you goes out to Grace for the encouragement.
~*~
Logan sank down into the leather sofa in his room. Taking a swig of beer, he surveyed 'his' belongings. There were more books lining the shelves than he wanted to count. He had three floor-to-ceiling bookcases, one devoted to history, which he taught. Apparently he could even teach modern and classical literature if he had read all the books on the other two cases.
He had checked over most of the room; his wardrobe consisted of mainly jeans and t-shirts with the rest of his belongs being minimal. There were a few items in his bathroom that he doubted he'd ever used, like the spare purple toothbrush and the soap that smelled suspiciously floral.
It had been a long day after talking with both the Professor and Hank, then actively avoiding interactions with everyone in the 'new' present timeline. Logan gathered that this time around, he had been with the X-Men off and on for several decades, hence the room full of more stuff than he could ever remember owning at any one time in his past.
He fingered the girly bookmark in the Faulkner novel on the end table, probably a gift from a student. Setting the book back down, he raised the bottle for another drink when his door opened.
Rogue strode in, shopping bag in hand. "When I promised Bobby I would go with him to scout out some colleges, I didn't know it was going to take so long." She was already bending over the back of the couch placing a kiss on his sideburn. Grabbing his beer, she took a sip before returning it and walking into the bathroom.
This was a development he had not expected.
Logan knew he should be listening to her in order to make sense of this. All he could do was stare slack-jawed at the open bathroom door as he heard clothing being unzipped. He closed his eyes and mouth when he caught a glimpse of Rogue pulling her sweater over her head.
Dreams. He remembered dreams of her, but there had never been anything past flirtatious smiles during daylight hours.
He opened his eyes enough to steal a glance at the window over his desk. To be fair it was no longer daylight, so maybe he was dreaming. That was it. He'd fallen asleep, sitting on the couch and was dreaming about Rogue.
"Well?" Rogue asked, hand on hip. Nope, not a dream. In fact she looked more real than ever standing in the doorway in a flimsy nightgown.
His mouth had fallen open to say something. All that came out was a grunt of approval, which seemed to be all the answer she was waiting for. Rogue began to slowly cross the room toward him with a sway in her hips and a seductive smile. Logan thought he should stand up, take control of the situation, instead of simply letting his mind wander through all the possibilities of working around deadly skin.
Now that he thought about it, and he had to admit thinking was getting harder to do by the minute, this might explain the presence of 'girly' items in his room. He eyed her again with all the bare skin being flashed. They obviously had worked out some kind of system as he was well covered, but didn't have any gloves. Damn it, he knew he should have a pair of gloves nearby if this was their relationship in this timeline.
What kind of an ass was he to be thinking of this when he had just 'arrived'?
Too late, she was in front of him, pushing him back down from where he had tried to stand. She straddled his hips with a creamy, white thigh placed on either side of his jean-clad legs.
He realized he must look like a deer caught in the headlights if her quizzical grin was anything to go by. She was leaning in for a kiss.
Okay, he could do one small, little kiss. Then they would talk. He quickly registered that she smelled like the floral soap in the bathroom before her lips met his and he was lost in the feel of her body under his hands.
Damn, where was he? That was no small kiss and 'this' Rogue clearly had control of her mutation. Logan took a long look at her. He felt as if he were taking advantage of her.
"Logan?"
He tried to formulate an answer, but everything in his head sounded deranged or worse yet, made up. The way she held her head indicated to him that she knew something was different and brushing it off wasn't going to work. This Rogue knew him well.
Logan settled his hands around her waist, noticing how well they fit. Keep your mind on the subject, man. Gently he lifted her up to sit next to him on the couch. "We need to talk."
Rogue began to pick at the hem of her nightie; eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. "I should've known it wouldn't last."
"Wait. What?" It was Logan's turn to be confused.
She gave a heavy sigh, "It took some convincing before you got the fact I wasn't a little girl. That I could handle a jaded, old man."
He could see it being that way, especially how she had emphasized the last part as if those were his words. So part of his personality was deeply rooted. "Rogue." At her name she took on a hopeful look, straightening her shoulders and giving a faint hint of a smile. "Are you ready for an insane story?"
When she nodded, he laid down on the couch making sure to settle her next to him with her head on his shoulder. Once again, he noticed how well her curves fit him.
As briefly as possible, he began to tell of the bleak future the other timeline held and their last ditch effort to change it. He also admitted that his memories of the last fifty years didn't match up with this timeline.
"So, you had a rough coupla' days?" Rogue asked softly.
"You could say that," He added what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
"Tell me how we met." She had started fiddling with the buttons on his flannel shirt. "How you remember it."
Logan told her about seeing her for the first time, out of the corner of his eye, from the fight cage. How she warned him in the bar afterward and then snuck a ride in his trailer until he pulled over and let her in the cab. Ended with the trouble with Magneto and saving her life. He lifted his head, craning his neck to look at her.
Rogue looked up at him. "That's pretty much how things went." Furrowing her brow she added, "Except the whole Statue of Liberty thing."
He felt a little deflated at the idea he hadn't saved her life, that the bond between them might not be there for her.
She nestled her head back into his shoulder and patting his chest. "Don't worry, you saved my life. Just not there."
He lay back with a snort. She really did know him well. "What happened?"
"Everything is the same until that night in your room." He noticed that she intentionally left out that he stabbed her. Logan wondered if that was a big a regret for this Logan as it was for him. "After that," She continued, "I left right away. You tracked me down at the train station and convinced me to come back. Magneto found us in the parking lot and the next thing I knew, I was strapped to his machine. He wanted a test before the Statue of Liberty." He felt a small shiver go through her. "Anyway, the test didn't go as planned and Magneto lost control. You, and the X-Men, showed up just in time to save my life."
A comfortable quiet stretched out for several minutes before Rogue asked, "What about us?"
Logan was at a complete loss with this question. Normally he would've bullshitted his way through something like this, but he'd always had a soft spot for Rogue and didn't want to hurt her. "How long have we been together?"
"Not quite a month. The toothbrush and soap have only been here a couple of days." She scooted around to prop herself up, looking him in the eye. "Do you want me to take them back?"
Logan could smell her concern, but it wasn't overwhelming. "No. But I don't want you to regret being involved with a man that might not be the one you fell in love with."
Rogue widened her eyes and gasped, "You mean you don't like beer or cigars. And you don't have a surly attitude." She paused, putting a hand to her mouth. "Tell me you got rid of that unnatural attraction to redheads."
He rewarded her fake dramatics with a snort. "Guess some things are ingrained."
She gave him a wink and snuggled back down to lay her head on his shoulder. "Betch'ya can name a few things about me." After his brief hesitation, she poked him with a finger adding, "Come on."
"It really bothered you that you didn't have control of your mutation. You know how to pour on the Southern charm when you want." He paused, grasping for the idea that had been at the back of his mind since she'd walked into the room. "And…you like me to call you Marie when we're alone."
She patted his chest again. "See, were off to a good start and can start dating again."
"Darlin', you know I don't go on dates." Rogue giggled and he could feel the heat from a blush through his shirt. Logan placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You took on a jaded, old man. If you're willing to take on a crazy, jaded, old man; then I guess we might be able to work somethin' out?"
~*~
the more things change...
Thanks to Jamie, SJ and Margaret for the beta work. A thank you goes out to Grace for the encouragement.
~*~
Logan sank down into the leather sofa in his room. Taking a swig of beer, he surveyed 'his' belongings. There were more books lining the shelves than he wanted to count. He had three floor-to-ceiling bookcases, one devoted to history, which he taught. Apparently he could even teach modern and classical literature if he had read all the books on the other two cases.
He had checked over most of the room; his wardrobe consisted of mainly jeans and t-shirts with the rest of his belongs being minimal. There were a few items in his bathroom that he doubted he'd ever used, like the spare purple toothbrush and the soap that smelled suspiciously floral.
It had been a long day after talking with both the Professor and Hank, then actively avoiding interactions with everyone in the 'new' present timeline. Logan gathered that this time around, he had been with the X-Men off and on for several decades, hence the room full of more stuff than he could ever remember owning at any one time in his past.
He fingered the girly bookmark in the Faulkner novel on the end table, probably a gift from a student. Setting the book back down, he raised the bottle for another drink when his door opened.
Rogue strode in, shopping bag in hand. "When I promised Bobby I would go with him to scout out some colleges, I didn't know it was going to take so long." She was already bending over the back of the couch placing a kiss on his sideburn. Grabbing his beer, she took a sip before returning it and walking into the bathroom.
This was a development he had not expected.
Logan knew he should be listening to her in order to make sense of this. All he could do was stare slack-jawed at the open bathroom door as he heard clothing being unzipped. He closed his eyes and mouth when he caught a glimpse of Rogue pulling her sweater over her head.
Dreams. He remembered dreams of her, but there had never been anything past flirtatious smiles during daylight hours.
He opened his eyes enough to steal a glance at the window over his desk. To be fair it was no longer daylight, so maybe he was dreaming. That was it. He'd fallen asleep, sitting on the couch and was dreaming about Rogue.
"Well?" Rogue asked, hand on hip. Nope, not a dream. In fact she looked more real than ever standing in the doorway in a flimsy nightgown.
His mouth had fallen open to say something. All that came out was a grunt of approval, which seemed to be all the answer she was waiting for. Rogue began to slowly cross the room toward him with a sway in her hips and a seductive smile. Logan thought he should stand up, take control of the situation, instead of simply letting his mind wander through all the possibilities of working around deadly skin.
Now that he thought about it, and he had to admit thinking was getting harder to do by the minute, this might explain the presence of 'girly' items in his room. He eyed her again with all the bare skin being flashed. They obviously had worked out some kind of system as he was well covered, but didn't have any gloves. Damn it, he knew he should have a pair of gloves nearby if this was their relationship in this timeline.
What kind of an ass was he to be thinking of this when he had just 'arrived'?
Too late, she was in front of him, pushing him back down from where he had tried to stand. She straddled his hips with a creamy, white thigh placed on either side of his jean-clad legs.
He realized he must look like a deer caught in the headlights if her quizzical grin was anything to go by. She was leaning in for a kiss.
Okay, he could do one small, little kiss. Then they would talk. He quickly registered that she smelled like the floral soap in the bathroom before her lips met his and he was lost in the feel of her body under his hands.
Damn, where was he? That was no small kiss and 'this' Rogue clearly had control of her mutation. Logan took a long look at her. He felt as if he were taking advantage of her.
"Logan?"
He tried to formulate an answer, but everything in his head sounded deranged or worse yet, made up. The way she held her head indicated to him that she knew something was different and brushing it off wasn't going to work. This Rogue knew him well.
Logan settled his hands around her waist, noticing how well they fit. Keep your mind on the subject, man. Gently he lifted her up to sit next to him on the couch. "We need to talk."
Rogue began to pick at the hem of her nightie; eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. "I should've known it wouldn't last."
"Wait. What?" It was Logan's turn to be confused.
She gave a heavy sigh, "It took some convincing before you got the fact I wasn't a little girl. That I could handle a jaded, old man."
He could see it being that way, especially how she had emphasized the last part as if those were his words. So part of his personality was deeply rooted. "Rogue." At her name she took on a hopeful look, straightening her shoulders and giving a faint hint of a smile. "Are you ready for an insane story?"
When she nodded, he laid down on the couch making sure to settle her next to him with her head on his shoulder. Once again, he noticed how well her curves fit him.
As briefly as possible, he began to tell of the bleak future the other timeline held and their last ditch effort to change it. He also admitted that his memories of the last fifty years didn't match up with this timeline.
"So, you had a rough coupla' days?" Rogue asked softly.
"You could say that," He added what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
"Tell me how we met." She had started fiddling with the buttons on his flannel shirt. "How you remember it."
Logan told her about seeing her for the first time, out of the corner of his eye, from the fight cage. How she warned him in the bar afterward and then snuck a ride in his trailer until he pulled over and let her in the cab. Ended with the trouble with Magneto and saving her life. He lifted his head, craning his neck to look at her.
Rogue looked up at him. "That's pretty much how things went." Furrowing her brow she added, "Except the whole Statue of Liberty thing."
He felt a little deflated at the idea he hadn't saved her life, that the bond between them might not be there for her.
She nestled her head back into his shoulder and patting his chest. "Don't worry, you saved my life. Just not there."
He lay back with a snort. She really did know him well. "What happened?"
"Everything is the same until that night in your room." He noticed that she intentionally left out that he stabbed her. Logan wondered if that was a big a regret for this Logan as it was for him. "After that," She continued, "I left right away. You tracked me down at the train station and convinced me to come back. Magneto found us in the parking lot and the next thing I knew, I was strapped to his machine. He wanted a test before the Statue of Liberty." He felt a small shiver go through her. "Anyway, the test didn't go as planned and Magneto lost control. You, and the X-Men, showed up just in time to save my life."
A comfortable quiet stretched out for several minutes before Rogue asked, "What about us?"
Logan was at a complete loss with this question. Normally he would've bullshitted his way through something like this, but he'd always had a soft spot for Rogue and didn't want to hurt her. "How long have we been together?"
"Not quite a month. The toothbrush and soap have only been here a couple of days." She scooted around to prop herself up, looking him in the eye. "Do you want me to take them back?"
Logan could smell her concern, but it wasn't overwhelming. "No. But I don't want you to regret being involved with a man that might not be the one you fell in love with."
Rogue widened her eyes and gasped, "You mean you don't like beer or cigars. And you don't have a surly attitude." She paused, putting a hand to her mouth. "Tell me you got rid of that unnatural attraction to redheads."
He rewarded her fake dramatics with a snort. "Guess some things are ingrained."
She gave him a wink and snuggled back down to lay her head on his shoulder. "Betch'ya can name a few things about me." After his brief hesitation, she poked him with a finger adding, "Come on."
"It really bothered you that you didn't have control of your mutation. You know how to pour on the Southern charm when you want." He paused, grasping for the idea that had been at the back of his mind since she'd walked into the room. "And…you like me to call you Marie when we're alone."
She patted his chest again. "See, were off to a good start and can start dating again."
"Darlin', you know I don't go on dates." Rogue giggled and he could feel the heat from a blush through his shirt. Logan placed a kiss on the top of her head. "You took on a jaded, old man. If you're willing to take on a crazy, jaded, old man; then I guess we might be able to work somethin' out?"
~*~