Note:
[ ] = thoughts
* * = emphasis

"I love little girls they make me feel so good
I love little girls they make me feel so bad
When they're around they make me feel
Like I'm the only guy in town
I love little girls they make me feel so good..."
— "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

In the end, it was the eyes that pulled him back. The redhead was a dish and that couldn’t be denied, but it was the big dark eyes staring up at him as he tried to slip out and disappear into his old life that haunted him. The lost, abandoned eyes that spoke to the rootless lonely center of Logan’s soul that hid behind the shelter of the intractable and independent Wolverine.

But it wasn’t just the doe-eyes, or the trust lurking in them, or the fragility that demanded protection by the mere wondrous fact of its existence — though all these things were there, and made not just Logan but the Wolverine as well want to pick her up, steal her away, carry her somewhere hidden and tuck her away there safe and warm and sheltered from all the cold and cruelty lurking in the world waiting to diminish and destroy all that was beautiful and worthwhile.

There was more to the package than just the eyes — and quite a package it was. The day he left Westchester was the first time he’d gotten a real look at her body, since all the times before she’d been hiding under that overcoat or he’d been too distracted by a life-or-death fight to be giving her a once-over. She had innocent little-girl eyes — but the rest of her didn’t look that innocent, or that little-girlish. Young, yes... But *too* young? There lay the question...

And Jeannie had said she was "taken with him." He had blown the statement off at the time, used it as an excuse to get in a bit more of the flirtation he had been amusing himself with. Clearly Red hadn’t thought it was anything more than a little girl crushing on "her hero." But in the long dark nights after he left New York, the words came back to him, along with the big eyes and all the rest of her, well after the memory of red hair and long legs had faded into the endless procession of frequently-enticing but interchangeable females he had occupied himself with over the course of his remembered years. The big dark eyes hadn’t faded, nor had the all-too-few memories of her he had from their brief but eventful association. And as the dark eyes — and many other bits of her that he hadn’t gotten nearly as good a look at — continued to haunt waking thoughts and dreams alike, he realized that there was only one thing that made sense for him to do.

So he headed back south to Westchester, much sooner than he had ever planned on returning. Time to go see just how "taken with him" she might really be...

Oh, sure, she was untouchable. Aside from the skin issue, there was the fact that she might well be — probably was, in fact — under the ridiculously high American age of consent. But there was touching — and then there was *touching*. Could be there were ways to get around that quirky mutation of hers, were she willing to experiment with him...

"Do you feel the power
From the man whose voice sounds reassuring
Completely firm and so alluring, like's he's lived a thousand times before
And seen the world from shore to shore
With the calmness and tranquility that oozes credibility
With the wisdom and the confidence that seem to scream out common sense
And it makes you feel just like a babe
Daddy holding you tight and safe
Hush babe everything's all right, Daddy's gonna stay with you tonight..."
— "New Generation," by Oingo Boingo

And so here he was back at Chuckie’s, even allowing himself to be talked into taking a "job" at the school, giving self-defense and combat lessons and maybe even getting nudged into taking over the PE classes on general principles. He tolerated it, because it gave him a reason to be hanging around a school of all places, and because of the way little Marie’s eyes had glowed when she first saw him back under Chuck’s roof. If Jean was right about the "taken" part — and she being a telepath *and* another female, he was willing to concede that she probably could tell if that were the case — then it hadn’t worn off while he was gone.

He thought she might have been dating a little while he was off doing his thing. Nothing too serious — surely, hopefully — with her mutation acting as de facto chaperone. But that Snowball kid had definitely been sniffing around her. The Wolverine warned the punk off, told Marie to let him know if the kid bothered her any.

Jeanie thought it was cute — said to Scott in Logan’s hearing (not realizing that it *was* within his hearing) that Logan had been acting like a protective father. Scooter wasn’t too keen on the Wolverine, no sir, but he did allow that it made him feel a bit better about Rogue to know that she had someone looking out for her in particular. Not that the X-Crew *didn’t* cherish their youthful charges — but with so many kids and so few adults, there was only so much time and attention available to be spread amongst them all. Rogue being something of a "special needs" case, having an adult giving her a lot of quality time was only to her benefit.

Even Wheels seemed approving of the attention Logan was giving the girl. Only Storm looked a bit apprehensive on occasion, watching the pair of them together.

As for Logan, he could have laughed at the "protective father" part of the description. Except that sometimes, with Rogue cuddled up next to him in front of the TV late at night in her long nightgown and wrapped up in a blanket — [Like a little girl with her "security blanket,"] he thought to himself — well, he had no family that he could remember, and it felt really good to have something small and helpless nestled up against him trustingly. He had never been much on the idea of having — starting, rather — a family, but at times like this he could sense the appeal of the concept.

Someone young and fragile, trusting him to teach and protect, love and support, not fearing the claws or temper or capacity for sudden shocking violence. Someone to love and admire him, and to remind him that not all in the world was cold and calloused, tarnished and empty.

At times like this, with the girl drowsing against his shoulder, he could let his attention drift from the TV and contemplate a possible future of homework and family dinners, driving lessons and college classes, teaching his little girl how to defend herself in every possible way and keep the harshnesses of the world from breaking and defeating her. In this mood, he didn’t even mind if, half-waking, she absently called him, "Daddy..."

And then she would shift position — a firm young breast pressing against his arm or side, or a sleeping hand absently laid in his lap — and be subtly transformed from innocent little girl to still-innocent-but-also-desirable young woman. And suddenly paternal was the last thing on his mind, as he would recall all the thoughtful ways to evade her mutation in the attainment of mutually desired release.

And he would remember her reaction when he had stepped in to chase off that Bobby kid. Not the ire, wounded pride, or frustration one would expect from a girl denied her lover by an overly defensive father. Rather, a little gleam of pleasure, lurking in those eyes, as of a woman pleased and flattered by the jealous reaction provoked from her lover.

And he would resolve to start testing the waters, once she waked and they were alone together...

"They don't ask me questions
They don't want to scold me
They don't look for answers
They just want to hold me
Isn't this fun
Isn't this what life's all about
Isn't this a dream come true
Isn't this a nightmare too
I love little girls they make me feel so good..."
— "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

"You can touch me, if you want. You can practice on me."

And she knew, if she truly had his thoughts in her head — and he could tell that she did, oh yes, when she growled at him fetchingly, when she responded to the words he hadn’t spoken aloud, when she knew of things he had never told her — why he really wanted this. Why he wanted her touchable, free for the taking — but only his taking. Why he wanted her to have none other but himself — in her mind *or* in her body. Why he wanted her to have his thoughts in her head — no new presences to crowd her mind, and his voice loud enough to drown out or drive off the men or boys already in there.

Why even though this would be teaching her — giving her something to protect herself and make her life more joyous in the living — he intended lessons that no father should have the giving of.

And she accepted all this with a smile that fit oddly on such a young face, making the eyes suddenly those of a woman grown wily in the ways of love, knowingly accepting the bait proffered in the trap while preparing an entrapment of her own for the hunter. And she touched him, linking bare fingers with his or stroking his face, and she curled herself against him as he lay draped across his bed recovering from her draining caresses, and when he had recovered she touched him again.

As time passed, the touches grew longer, bolder, lingering and caressing in regions less chaste than hands or face. And he became able to return the touches as her control grew, until their "practice" sessions were less about simple skin-on-skin contact and more about foreplay. When she became less likely to merely lie at his side draped across the bed, and more likely to kneel astride him. When kisses — long, deep, intense kisses — became an accepted part of their "practice." When clothing began to be removed, exposing more skin to be pressed against and caressed.

But all this was in the privacy of his own bedroom, or mayhap in the front or back seat of a car taken off the school grounds for some errand but parked in a quiet layby for some secluded togetherness before returning to the X-Mansion. In public they were almost well-behaved, adoptive father and putative daughter — and if they were a bit more physical in their affection than most fathers and teenaged daughters, well, he was one of the few who didn’t fear falling victim to the Rogue’s rogue power, and she needed to take her touch where she could get it.

Jean might have had an inkling of the truth of the matter, having spotted Rogue’s attraction to her gruff savior so many months before. But Jean was caught up in the romance of being caught between two very desirable men — for Logan, enjoying the bedevilment of Scott as much as he ever had, made a point of continuing to aggressively and publicly court the other man’s lover. Scott, incensed by the Wolverine’s lack of respect (and secretly fearing that Jean might eventually be swayed by the other man’s attentions), worried so about Logan’s obvious attraction to Jean (and her subtle reciprocation of the feeling) that he failed to even consider the possibility that Logan might in fact have romantic designs on another. Xavier, caught up in the dual pressures of mutant politics and school administration, was too occupied with keeping half a hundred balls in the air at once to be able to spare a great deal of personal attention for each and every individual student. The squeaky wheel was the first in line for a dose of lubrication, whereas the obviously contented student with her own readily available surrogate parent clearly needed the least attention and supervision.

Only Storm saw the way the pair clung to each other, and wondered; noted the way Rogue reacted oddly to having her would-be boyfriends driven off by her father figure, and pondered; considered the unusual amount of time a teenager was spending with a parental type rather than with her own agemates, and worried.

But with nothing more to go on than her own suspicions, she said little. Only once did she start to delicately raise her concerns to Jean — but Jean, still wrapped up in the magical idea of being The Only Woman the Wolverine Wanted, managed to miss the import of Ororo’s remarks about how devoted Logan seemed to be to Rogue. "Isn’t it sweet? You can tell he’d make a wonderful father..."

Ororo suppressed a shudder and went to see Scott. Unfortunately, he put his foot down and said that _Lolita_ was inappropriate reading material for a high school English class. Frankly, she didn’t give a damn whether the class read it or not — she just wanted *Scott* to read it. She settled for running by Blockbuster and picking up the movie instead. The remake, with Jeremy Irons — Jean being a fan of his, Ro was hoping that between the casting and the classic-novel-adaptation aspects, she’d be able to tempt at least *one* of the other adult X-Men to watch it with her. She left the videotape resting atop the TV in the rec room while she went looking for some of her fellow mutants.

"There's nothing to be scared of. You just gotta... think about it like... the first time you got laid. You just gotta go, 'Daddy, are you sure this is right?'"
— Rebecca, _Tank Girl_

"What’s with the video?" Marie asked, spotting the familiar blue-and-white Blockbuster case lying on Logan’s dresser.

"Some joker rented a movie I don’t think anyone here needs to be seeing," he answered with a certain grimly humorous quirk of his mouth.

"_Lolita_? Hmm... You’ve seen it? It’s that bad?"

"Not *bad*, but I just think we’re better off if no one around here goes watching a movie about a guy who’s got a thing goin’ with his fourteen-year-old adopted daughter..."

"Hmm..." Marie gave him a teasing look. "Good thing *I’m* not fourteen — as of last May, anyway..." Kicking off her shoes, she crawled onto his bed and rolled over onto one side, giving him a coquettish look and patting the coverlet at her side invitingly before stripping off her gloves.. Logan didn’t need to be invited twice. As he settled himself next to her, she unbuttoned the top button on her shirt, and then the next, and the next, while eyeing him sidelong. "And good thing you’re not my father."

"He wasn’t her father either. He just told people he was so they didn’t ask questions about what he was doing running around the country with a young girl...," he answered distractedly, watching the tempting areas slowly exposed by the deepening V at the neck of her shirt. She stopped unbuttoning at her navel and with an elaborate air of absentmindedness slid a hand into her own open garment, stroking playfully while watching his eyes following her hand.

Abandoning the conversation, he leaned down for a kiss, while following her hand with his own. Finishing the job of opening and untucking her shirt, he began kissing his way down her throat and into the regions thus exposed. She wrapped her arms around him, tangling fingers in his hair as he began to nuzzle at her breasts. Slipping an arm around her, he raised her enough to reach the clasp at her back and undo her bra, pulling it down far enough to reveal more pale skin and rosy nipples before disentangling her arms from shirt sleeves and bra straps. Nipping, licking and suckling, he alternately teased one side and the other, while she murmured, cooed and gasped.

Sliding a hand down to her knees, he raised her short skirt (worn for just such an occasion as this) and began stroking up her tights-clad inner thigh towards a region of extreme interest. When he reached it, she moaned and opened her thighs farther.

He stroked, caressed, fondled and rubbed, noting with delight how no warning tingling pull developed in the velvety skin his cheek remained resting against. Even as she whimpered, arched her back and bucked her hips beneath his hand, her control remained unbroken. When her shudders ceased and her breathing eased, he shifted position, rolling to his back and pulling her against him, bringing her lips down to his for a kiss. She responded with more than interest, lips parted and tongue eager.

Wrapping a thigh across him, she slid a hand down to the bulge in the front of his jeans and began rubbing, before reaching for his zipper. Freeing his erection, she began rubbing firmly up and down along the shaft with a bare hand. He closed his eyes, pressing his face against her neck, and thought about the things he had been saving for when her control reached the level of unconscious maintenance. Rumbling eagerly at thoughts of fabulously naked activities between the sheets, he reached a rapid climax when he realized that at least one thing could be tried out almost immediately.

He kissed her throat, then her lips, before rolling over to open the drawer in his bedside table. Never being sick, he only kept a box of tissues in his room for one purpose. He handed a few to Marie to dry her fingers with, before saying, "You did that perfect, baby. Didn’t slip up once." She gave him a slightly puzzled look, and he clarified, "With your skin, earlier. Not even a tingle." At her look of startled realization, he smiled, before adding, "And I think that deserves a reward..."

"A reward? So I’ve been a good girl?" she asked with a smile that rather belied the ‘good girl’ aspect.

Reaching up under her skirt again (which was still rucked up to her waist), he found the waistband of her tights and smoothly peeled them off. Tossing them to one side, he lovingly ran his hands up her bare legs.

"A *very* good girl," he agreed, reaching her pale pink cotton panties and beginning to stroke her through them, then slipping his fingers inside through one leghole and caressing areas greatly unused to the touch of another’s bare skin. She gasped, a little startled and a lot delighted, digging her fingers into his shoulders and parting her thighs further.

It wasn’t enough. He withdrew his fingers, and when she sighed in disappointment he caught her eyes. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he began slowly pulling them down, watching her closely for any signs of objection. Satisfied that she was nervous but willing enough to take this next step, he slipped her underwear down her legs and off completely, tossing the garment to one side.

Leaning in for another kiss, he ran the fingers of one hand slowly up her inner thigh, tracing gently towards his goal. He felt her quiver when he reached it, silken damp hot and trembly, and began lightly running his fingers back and forth, stroking here and caressing there, without quite following the same delicately maddening path twice in a row.

It *still* wasn’t enough. Gently removing his other arm from beneath her shoulders, he moved from her side to between her legs in a rapid fluid shift of position. It startled her so much she half sat up, and he put a hand against her bare belly, gently encouraging her to lie back down. "Trust me?" he asked her quietly, and after meeting his gaze for a moment she silently lay back and closed her eyes, surrendering willingly.

Stroking his hands upward along her inner thighs, he leaned down for his first real taste of what he’d been dreaming of for months. She bucked slightly in surprise when his tongue first touched her, then relaxed into the attentions as he nuzzled, licked and teased. He dipped his tongue into her where her scent was strongest, memorizing the salty heated taste while she whimpered. Shifting his focus to her clitoris and seeing how loudly he could make her moan, he slipped first one and then two fingers within her where his tongue had just been, rubbing in and out gently. Feeling her beginning to tremble, he moved his fingers faster and began alternating sucking with delicate nibbling, until she cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, tightening around his fingers in an uncontrolled rhythmic spasm.

Disentangling himself from her legs and giving his fingers a surreptitious lick, he concentrated on the smug feeling in an attempt to distract himself from what he *really* wanted to do now, which had absolutely nothing to do with getting out from between her thighs and everything to do with moving a few feet upward along his girl’s body. Settling himself at her side and attempting to ignore his renewed erection, he placed a hand on her belly, rubbing thoughtfully up and down while her breathing calmed.

When she had come back to herself, she dreamily opened her eyes and met his. "Does this mean that I have to stop calling you ‘Daddy’ now?"

He chuckled, a trifle unsteadily. "Sweetheart, you can call me anything you want."

She smiled impishly. "My, Grandma, what big teeth you have!"

"Except that."

"And Grandma, what — pointy hair you have!" He growled softly. She giggled. "And my, Grandma, what a big — " she broke off, reaching down for something impossible to miss, Logan’s jeans not having been rezipped. The growl returned in a more positive note as she took a firm grip and began to rub. "I could make a few comments about baskets of goodies at this point — " Then she slid down alongside him, concluding, "— but I think I could be doing better things with my mouth right about now..."

The growl was replaced by a startled noise as she took the tip of his penis into her mouth, then returned and began to alternate with plaintive whimpers and the odd yelp as she began shifting randomly between licking, sucking, and tongue swirls while continuing to slide her hand up and down his shaft. Feeling him beginning to tense beneath her and move his hips, she took him as deeply as she could and was rewarded by his hoarse cry. She continued rubbing a few seconds past the rhythmic quiverings within her hand and mouth, then pulled away with a final nuzzle and zipped his jeans back up.

Moving to sit beside him, she grinned at him wickedly from behind her tousled hair. "Daddy, was I a good girl?"

Still breathing heavily, "A *very* good girl."

"Take me out for ice cream now?"

He laughed. "Anything you want, baby."

Logan grabbed the video on the way out. Might as well return it to Blockbuster while they were in town, rather than risk having someone find it in his room...

"So you sit around in school, taking in all the jailbait sashaying around in front of you. Hey — nobody's blaming you. We all got urges, right?"
— ZERO GIRL #4, by Sam Kieth

Storm’s attempt to educate through video having failed due to the mysterious disappearance of the required tape, she next resorted to speaking directly to Xavier. The Professor was as usual very busy splitting his attention between classroom and Congress, but for a long-time student noted for her level head and clear thinking he was willing to spare the time to hear her concerns, however unwarranted he might at first find them.

And unwarranted he did indeed consider them. Ever willing to give the benefit of the doubt and extend his trust to his fellows (human and mutant alike), he was unwilling to act to interfere with a relationship that seemed so to the benefit of two lonely people who each in their own ways deserved better from Fate.

But he also recognized in Ororo a keen observer and perceptive judge of those around her, and so did not dismiss her concerns out of hand. Instead, he took a compromise position by agreeing to watch the pair more closely and to step in if — and only if — further investigation indicated that outside intervention was desirable. Storm, trusting in her mentor’s ability to get to the bottom of the situation and unsure of her own suspicions, was happy to leave the matter in his hands for the present time — but privately resolved to nevertheless continue to watch the oddly close pairing.

After Storm had left Xavier to resume his work, he chose to begin dealing with his latest responsibility by interrogating his other former pupils, feeling that if Ororo’s observations were accurate then the others should be able to provide corroborating evidence.

What he heard — and more particularly, what he sensed — from Scott and Jean dismayed him. Each in their own way proved to be so fixated on the concept of Logan’s attraction to Jean that neither was willing to properly credit the idea of him having designs on another female. Charles had been dismissive of Ro’s concerns in large part because of his belief that an unhealthy relationship would have been noticed by more than one person in such close living conditions. Recognizing his own preoccupations and Scott and Jean’s biased perceptions, he came to the shocked realization that Ororo had been the only adult paying attention to the form Logan and Rogue’s association seemed to be taking.

None of which actually *confirmed* Storm’s fears. But the possibility that her concerns were valid had suddenly become much greater.

Beginning to worry, the Professor called first Jubilee and then Kitty to his office for separate interviews. Questioning them delicately, ever-mindful of the necessity of not spreading unpleasant rumors should Logan’s intentions towards Rogue prove to be respectable, he looked for any hints that the Wolverine had behaved in an improper fashion with regard to Rogue or any other young female under the X-Mansion’s roof.

What he heard reassured him. Individually and independently, the girls closest to Rogue and Logan stated their beliefs that Logan wouldn’t really do anything to harm any of the students (bruises earned in combat lessons aside) and that he and Rogue clung together because of mutual interests and a shared need for surrogate family. Both girls approved of the relationship, although Ms. Lee expressed the opinion that Rogue would greatly benefit by spending time with a few presentable males closer to her own age as well as with her adopted father figure. Xavier noted this opinion and his own agreement.

Dismissing Kitty, he considered the matter, if not exactly closed, then at least of less immediate concern. He would keep a closer eye on the pair in the future, but for the moment they seemed well-suited to each other’s company.

Had the Professor known that the panties removed from Rogue the previous afternoon were now residing under Logan’s pillow, he doubtless would have had a very different opinion on the matter.

"Uh oh take a second take
Uh oh it's a mistake
Uh oh I'm in trouble
Uh oh the little girl was just too little
Too little, too little, too little..."
— "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

Ororo’s attempts to attract attention to the pair regardless, Logan and Marie continued in much the way they had been. The ante on the bare-skin contact having been so satisfactorily raised, the pair spent a number of very enjoyable afternoons getting well familiar with each other’s more intimate tastes. Not much more than a few weeks afterwards, things moved on to the next step and Logan finally got to start using the condoms that had been lying in wait in his bedside drawer.

Things were absolutely blissful.

Which of course meant that they were long overdue for some bad news.

Their luck finally ran out, ironically enough, while they were in the process of getting extremely lucky.

Jubilee, looking for her roommate (and, not so incidentally, some free help with her math homework), logically chose Logan’s bedroom as the third place to look (after the room she shared with Rogue and the rec room). She was in the hallway approaching the Wolverine’s door when she first thought she heard a cry.

It sounded suspiciously like, "Oh, God, *Logan*!"

Well, *nobody* expected the Wolvster to be a monk. And it wasn’t too surprising that the lady of his choice seemed to be greatly enjoying herself.

Overcome with prurient curiosity, Jubilee crept closer. Possibly she could identify the chick — the voice had sounded almost familiar... Which X-Grrl had managed to snare the Wolvmeister?

"Oh, God, *yes*!"

Closer to the bedroom in question, the voice was clearer. Jubes frowned with dawning suspicion. That had sounded almost like —

"Oh, *Daddy*, fuck me harder! *Harder*! Oh, Daddy, *yes*!"

Standing directly outside Logan’s door as she now was, Jubilee could no longer deny whose voice was coming from within. Pale and shaken, she very carefully tiptoed away, hoping against hope that Logan had been too distracted to notice an eavesdropper’s presence.

Had it been Scott, or Jean, or perhaps even one of the other adults, who had overheard the couple, they very likely would have flung the door open on the spot, denouncing the Evil Seducer and attempting to separate the pair immediately. Logan being Logan (and engaged in an activity he would very much prefer not being interrupted in), bloodshed probably would have been the immediate result — but at least matters would have been brought out into the open and dealt with, once and for all.

Jubi being much less cursed with a sense of responsibility, she slunk back to her room and brooded over the matter, leaving her algebra problems untouched while she considered who (if anyone) to tell. She had enough sense to dismiss the idea of telling Scott immediately, and Jean without much more thought. Between Jean’s not-so-hidden attraction to Logan and Scott’s overt rivalry with the man, either one would most likely react by trying to toss him out of the X-Mansion on his ear. Xavier she thought about a bit longer, but she didn’t expect his response to be much better, and she feared Ororo was likely to take the news straight to the Professor.

Really, she didn’t think either of the pair should actually get into trouble over what they were doing. Rogue had gotten royally gypped in the mutation department, and if she was hooked up with the guy she’d been in love with since two days after having met him, well, she deserved a bit of compensation in her life. Okay, the "Daddy, fuck me harder!" was a little creepy, but at least she sounded genuinely happy...

Kitty beat Rogue back to the room — unsurprisingly, if Rogue was still helping Wolvie give the mattress a workout — and Jubes spilled her guts. Kitty was frickin’ *smart* — if there was something they should do, *she* would know.

Kitty looked wide-eyed at the news. "*That’s* what the Professor was asking about a few weeks ago, when he wanted to know if Logan treated us and the other girls ‘properly.’"

"So he sort of already knows?"

"If he really *knew*, he wouldn’t have been asking. He just suspects."

"So should we tell him? Or someone else?"

"I don’t know... Give us a few days to think about it, and see if Rogue looks like we *need* to tell someone."

"Maybe not — she sure *sounded* happy enough with him..."

"Hmmm..."

When Rogue slipped back into the room later that night, as quietly as she could and without turning the light on, Jubes woke just enough to check the time on her alarm clock. Nearly 2am — *well* past curfew and lights-out. Well, if Rogue was managing to get enough sleep elsewhere, and wasn’t having a problem getting up in time for class in the morning, Jubilee certainly wasn’t going to be the one to gripe at her...

"gone under two times.
I've been struck dumb by a voice that
speaks from deep
beneath the cold black water.
It's twice as clear as heaven,
and twice as loud as reason.
It's deep and rich like silt on a riverbed
and just as undisturbing.
the currents mouth below me opens up around me.
suggests and beckons all while swallowing.
It surrounds and drowns and sweeps me away.

But I'm so comfortable...Too comfortable.

shut up shut up shut up shut up
shut up shut up shut up shut up
you're saturating me
So how could I let this bring me
back to my knees again again again"
— "Undertow," by Tool

For Kitty and Jubes, the decision wasn’t a very difficult one. Both of them being Rogue’s age, they saw the matter less as that of a man in a position of authority taking shameful advantage of a vulnerable young girl and more as that of a young woman reaching the age of making her own decisions regarding her own sex life. Yes, he was much older than she — but Wolvie seemed pretty ageless, so in a sense it didn’t seem to matter. (And in any case, age didn’t always detract from a man’s babe factor, as Harrison Ford oh-so-amply proved.) The "Daddy" thing was more than a little kinky — but it wasn’t like he really *was* her father, so it was just a game, and that was all right. Even Kitty and Jubilee realized that there were much more harmful games that could be played out in bed.

The overriding factor as far as they were concerned was that both members of the mismatched couple seemed to be happy. Rogue was perky, chipper, exuberant, or smug on a varying basis. Logan seemed also to be pleased, though in a particularly Wolverinish manner that had less to do with overt signs of joy and more to do with the subtle absence of blatant hostility. Anything that made the Wolvmeister less irascible could only be considered a Good Thing.

So Jubilation and Katherine held their peace regarding their roommate’s new boyfriend. They never actually sat down with her and explained their positions on the matter — but Rogue couldn’t help but notice how they carefully refrained from mentioning the times she snuck back in after lights-out, or from asking anything about the major segments of her free time that were spent with Logan. She guessed that they at least suspected, but chose not to risk betraying herself by seeking to confirm what they might or might not know. The current situation was more than acceptable — better not to alter things, possibly for the worse.

But not all residents of the X-Mansion would be quite so equable regarding Rogue’s ability to make her own sexual decisions. Regrettably, one of these happened to be passing too close to Logan’s room late one night while he was engaged in finding out how many times he could make Marie scream during a single act of intercourse.

Only a last-minute half-hearted telekinetic save kept Jean’s midnight bowl of ice cream from crashing to the floor in the hall as she heard the cry of, "Oh, *God*, **LOGAN**!" She didn’t immediately recognize the voice, so shocked was she at the mere knowledge that Logan, the Wolverine, He Who Wanted Only Jean, was currently acting out her own barely-acknowledged fantasies with another woman.

It wasn’t really a consciously thought-out decision to pry when she let her mental barriers thin, so much as an almost-panicked seeking of confirmation — had she just heard what she thought she heard? Had it really meant what she very much feared it signified?

Had Jean been thinking clearly at the moment, she would have recognized the jealousy fueling her reaction, in both her dying hope of reading something reassuring to her own ego in Logan’s mind, and her angry impulse to discover the identity of her rival.

From thinning her shields, it was a moment’s work to probe outward, behind the closed door, seeking... Logan’s thoughts were as ever difficult to read, the unsteadily shifting balance between the rational Logan and the instinctive Wolverine leaving his mind murky and telepathically confusing. She only caught a flash or two, [...so helpless/innocent/*young*/trusting/*beautiful*...,] flickering through a haze of impulses too primal to be readily accessible to her own questing thoughts. Nothing of what she had hoped to find — no fantasy of herself in the forefront of his mind while his body was occupied with a woman attractive mainly in her mere availability. Rather, he seemed intensely and personally focused on the object of his current attentions and desire.

It took only a fraction of a second for Jean to sense this from her might-have-been lover. Still reacting rather than thinking, she shifted attention to her rival, even more angrily interested in her identity than a mere second before. What she found was even more of a morass than Logan’s psyche — a fragmented swirling of incomplete personalities jumbling uneasily within the same mind, too crowded to identify individual thoughts. Identification in and of itself, as only one mutant under Xavier’s roof carried passengers within her head.

The new shock sent Jean fleeing down the corridor to the safety and privacy of her own room.

Forgotten in her haste to escape, the dish of ice cream dropped the final inches to the hall carpet. It landed with a dull thud, rocked, slopped a bit, but did not break.

Jean ducked into her shared room, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. Her ever-conscientious lover, propped up against the pillow with the stack of papers that he had felt compelled to begin grading in her absence, looked up from an English composition and frowned. "Something wrong?" he asked, allowing a trace of worry to leak into his ever-controlled voice.

Studying her fiancé as though she’d never seen him before, Jean felt a rush of relief at what an upstanding man she’d chosen to stay with. Unlike the man she had been so dangerously tempted by, *Scott* would never be so — so *twisted* — as to seduce a student. Let alone such a *young* student, or a girl with such extreme needs and severe emotional problems...

Under the circumstances, the surge of pleasure — at recognition of having decided properly when faced with a potentially disastrous choice — was easily mistaken for a wave of love. Perhaps some of it even was. In any case, it left Jean with the urge to share with her lover.

"Logan managed to seduce Rogue."

"*WHAT*?!"

"I just heard them, down the hall."

"Are you — are you sure it was them? Sure it was *her*?" Scott looked as flabbergasted as she still felt, which was comforting.

"I — I dropped my shields and looked. Didn’t really think about what I was doing, just had to be sure..." She trailed off, not wanting to explain what she had wanted to be sure of.

Scott, luckily, completed the sentence for himself with the assumption that Jean had recognized Rogue’s voice and merely sought confirmation of identity. "You did the right thing," he stated with the assurance of the Fearless Leader Praising a Teammate For Appropriate Action. "He *can’t* be allowed to get away with this."

The small voice of rationality in the back of Jean’s mind, beginning to suspect ulterior motives in her own urge to act to separate the lovers, was lulled and comforted by Scott’s reaction. *He* couldn’t be jealous of Logan’s affair with Rogue, so if *he* felt the same way about this relationship then it *must* be bad, and not just a case of Jean’s hurt feelings leading her to punish the sources of her emotional discomfort...

Emboldened, she followed Scott back down the hall, where he firmly knocked at the Fatal Door. "Open up, Logan," he announced, Fearless Leader Preparing to Deal With Unpleasantness. "We need to talk."

After a lengthy pause, during which Scott knocked again and repeated himself, the door opened. Logan stood there, tousled and perhaps a bit sweaty around the edges, wearing nothing but his jeans and a rather self-satisfied expression. "You had a problem, Scooter?... Jeanie," he added with a nod of greeting to her.

"Did you really think you could get away with it, Logan?" Scott asked rhetorically, crossing his arms and taking a Displeased Leader stance.

"Get away with what?" Logan inquired, the blend of disingenuousness and irritation in his tone leaving the question open of whether he was attempting to hide his actions or merely saw nothing wrong with them.

"Did you really think you’d be allowed to carry on an affair with one of the students?" Scott pushed the door open despite Logan’s attempt to keep it mainly closed, assisted by Jean’s telekinetic shove. "Get up and come out of there," he added, directing his words to the form lurking beneath the covers on Logan’s bed.

The blankets were reluctantly lowered, Rogue’s dark eyes cautiously peeking over the tops of them to meet the accusers in the hallway. Knowing herself to be unmasked, she sighed and began to crawl out of her lover’s bed, before Logan’s voice halted her. "Why *should* she leave?" he demanded, taking a step forward.

Scott gave him a disbelieving stare. "Because she’s an underage student, and you’re not *allowed* to — "

"Who says?" Logan cut him off.

Cyke set his jaw. "It’s the *law*, Logan," he almost snarled.

"So?"

This halted Scooter for a moment. He actually hadn’t really stopped to consider how little Logan might consider himself bound by legal niceties like age of consent. Which was definitely shortsighted of him, given how familiar he already was with Logan’s easy contempt for the laws forbidding assault and outright murder — to say nothing of his cavalier attitude towards grand theft auto.

Intrigued by the drama being played out, Marie sat up for a better view, absently letting the blankets fall into her lap. Scott gaped in surprise, seeing clearly what hadn’t really registered before — Rogue seemed to be completely naked. [How the hell did Logan manage — ?]

Following Cyke’s stare, Logan took another step forward, reclaiming his grip on the door. "Quit staring, One-Eye! This ain’t a fucking peep show!" Belatedly, Rogue grabbed for the sheets and pulled them back up in front of her breasts.

Which put a whole new spin on things, now that the Wolverine seemed to have gone from Irritated through Defiant and on into Protectively Jealous, with an option for immediate upgrade to Seriously Pissed. Rapidly calculating the possible and likely outcomes of a fight if he and Jean tried to force the issue right then and there, Scott came to an unwelcome conclusion.

Setting his jaw, "Fine. We’ll discuss this in the morning. With Professor Xavier," he added with a warning tone.

"Fine." Logan matched him tone for tone. "We’ll do that. Now scram." He slammed the door in their faces while Scott was still fumbling for a response that might preserve what remained of his Leaderly Dignity.

Giving up on the attempt to intimidate a closed door, Cyke turned and promptly lost what little composure remained by stepping squarely into Jean’s abandoned bowl of ice cream.

"Dammit! Jean..."

"...Oops. Sorry — forgot I’d left that there..."

The feminine giggling and gruffer chuckles heard from behind the closed door didn’t help his mood any.

"Send lawyers, guns and money
The shit has hit the fan"
— "Lawyers, Guns and Money," by Warren Zevon

The next morning, Jeannie and Scooter were up bright and early, ready to Strike a Blow For Morality. While Jean trotted off to announce the situation to Xavier and have him ready and waiting in his office, Scott grimly headed down the hall to roust out the guilty couple.

Still annoyed with himself for his less-than-spectacular performance in handling the situation the previous night, he was doubly determined to retain control in the upcoming confrontation. Knocking firmly at the door, he opened it without waiting for a response from within. "Everybody up and dressed — we’re going to be in Professor Xavier’s office in twenty minutes."

Logan raised his head from the pillow enough to eye Cyke dismissively over one shoulder. "You do that, Scooter. We’ll be along when it ain’t so damn early..." The smaller form buried under the blankets alongside him mumbled and shifted closer, not bothering to open her eyes.

Cyclops stiffened, infuriated as ever by Logan’s dismissive attitude regarding direct orders. "You’ll be along *now* — in case you’ve forgotten, *some* of us have classes to get to this morning!"

That was actually a reference to Logan’s refusal to deal with students before eleven, but Rogue twitched and opened an eye. "Maybe we’d better get up. I’ve got history at nine..."

"If you say so, baby," Logan said, making it blatantly clear that he was following her suggestion rather than Scott’s order. He stretched thoroughly, taking his time about it, before giving Marie a showy kiss on the hand that was at least half for the benefit of their fuming audience.

Sliding out on his side of the bed, he stood up and ambled towards Cyke, ignoring his own lack of clothing. Retrieving a sock and a pair of Powerpuff Girl panties that had landed next to the door, he asked on straightening up, "Are you planning to stand there and watch us get dressed?"

Given the menacing undertone coming from the guy who had to be griped at to remember to wear underwear on his midnight refrigerator runs, Scott was able to correctly interpret the *real* question as being, "Are you planning to stand there and watch my girl get dressed, or do you want to live long enough to go talk to Wheels?"

Not being particularly suicidal, he responded by pointedly consulting his watch. "Eighteen minutes," was his parting shot before closing the door and leaving.

"Well come on little baby
won't you cut the chitter chatter
Come sit here on Daddy's lap and won't you tell me what's the matter."
— "Kiss My Ass," by Oingo Boingo

Actually, it was closer to half an hour before Logan and Marie put in an appearance. Expecting the wait, Xavier had made use of the time to discuss the situation with his two oldest students.

Evidently things were going as badly as he had feared. Not only were Logan and Rogue indeed involved in an illicit liaison, but Jean and Scott were taking extreme positions against the couple. Both were insistent that steps be taken to halt the relationship and separate the pair, with Scott adamantly declaring that Logan’s offense proved him unfit to be around juveniles *or* to be one of the X-Men. Jean, usually the defender for Logan, this time remained silent as her fiancé called for the Wolverine’s eviction from the school.

Which was only to be expected, given Scott’s long-held animosity towards Logan and Jean’s freshly wounded ego. But Xavier strongly disliked the idea of casting out an almost-friend and partially-respected colleague on the basis of a single incident, at least without deeper investigation. Hence the coming discussion with the pair.

On the surface, a relationship between a teenaged girl and a man certainly old enough to be at least her father was a bad thing, a sign of an unhealthy association made between two people emotionally unready or unwilling to deal with lovers of their own age. A very easy assumption to make would be that Logan was controlling Rogue — in this case, likely taking advantage of her adolescent infatuation with the man who had saved her life.

But this was a complicated situation. For one thing, the girl’s ability to absorb and retain personalities through touch meant that she had Logan in her head. So did this mean that she already knew him more intimately than if they had been married for years — or did it mean that parts of his personality had overlaid or even overwritten hers, creating a sort of narcissistic attachment between the pair?

And then there was the touch situation. Logan had already been the only person at the X-Mansion willing to touch her — apparently much more willing than anyone but Storm had realized. But if Scott was correct in reporting that Logan seemed able to touch Rogue’s skin with impunity, that raised the question — how? Was it a method that would work if she touched other people, or was it something unique to Logan? If the latter, he could prove to be the only man she could touch, possibly for the rest of her life. In that case, separating them could be doing Rogue a grave disservice.

So Xavier kept an open mind, despite the condemnation of his adult students. And no matter what the case, he needed to finally interview the pair involved to get at the truth of the matter.

And here they were now.

Logan came into the room first, stalking in scanning faces watchfully as though preparing for conflict — or combat. Rogue followed him, with a flirty little swish of her skirt,. In contrast to her lover, she seemed insouciantly unconcerned. Judging by the defiant gleam lurking half-hidden in her eyes, it was a front.

"Ah, Logan... Rogue... If you would care to take a seat..."

Logan didn’t seem enthusiastic at the prospect — the more so since Scott and Jean were present, and neither one was sitting — but he grudgingly settled himself into the chair before Chuckie’s desk.

Unfortunately, Scooter and Jeanie didn’t sit, as Logan — and Xavier — had been half-hoping they would. Instead they hovered, adding to the interrogational feel of the situation.

Marie considered carefully for a moment, then also sat — on the arm of Logan’s chair. He caught the flicker that passed across the Prof’s face at that, and sensed Cyke and Red’s barely suppressed outrage. [Good girl — don’t let them make us out to be in the wrong. We *are*, by their standards, but we won’t admit it and won’t beg forgiveness. And if they can’t live with that...] He put his arm around her, in a public display of solidarity. She leaned a gloved arm on his shoulder, comfortable and formality be damned.

Xavier studied the couple carefully. Logan tended to go through life projecting the attitudinal equivalent of a "POOR IMPULSE CONTROL" sign, but right now he seemed to be in an especially touchy mood. To the pair of telepaths in the room, Wolverine might as well have had a neon sign blinking "READY TO RUMBLE" over his head.

The question was whether Scott had picked up on that.

Choosing to jump right in — ideally forestalling Scott and Jean’s own agenda for the meeting — Charles stated in a calm, measured, *non-accusing* tone, "I’m sure you’re aware of why I wished to speak with the pair of you. Jean and Scott have brought a situation to my attention that I rather feel needs to be addressed."

"What, that she’s my girl? Yeah, it’s true. So what?" Logan’s arm tightened around Rogue’s waist. She shifted her arm, from elbow propped on his nearer shoulder to draped completely across his shoulders.

Regrettably, Cyclops jumped in while the Professor was formulating his response. "‘So what’? *’So what’*?! Sir she’s underaged - *and a* a student! This is not only immoral and unethical, it’s *illegal*!"

"So?" Logan and Rogue’s response was simultaneous. Rogue continued, "I’m happy, he’s happy. So what’s the problem?"

Cyke was actually silenced for a moment in his shock. Somewhere in the ire he had been directing at Logan — whose role in this seduction seemed clear-cut and obvious — Rogue’s opinion of the relationship had been ignored.

Jean stepped in, voice dripping the maternal warmth and the assurance that came with being an Incarnation of Perfection. "Rogue, right now I know you’re enjoying the... attention, and Logan can be very... impressive when he chooses to be, but he really isn’t the best choice for you. You need someone a little closer to your own age, someone more..."

"Responsible? Stable? *Sane*?" Scott offered as Jean paused to consider the qualifications of the Perfect Mate for Rogue. (Because Rogue had "special needs," and Logan was Jean’s — no, not *hers*, because she had *Scott* — but surely he couldn’t be *Rogue’s*...)

"Logan’s responsible!" was Marie’s knee-jerk reaction, before she paused to consider the adjective. Well, given that he was in the process of being called on the carpet for statutory rape, she wasn’t in the best possible position to be arguing the case from. Recalling his tendencies to sneak her out past curfew and allow her to share his beer and even raid his cigar stash on occasion, she hastily changed her line of defense. "And why would I *want* someone ‘stable and sane’? We wouldn’t have anything in common," she finished with a remark that was only half a joke. Logan gave her a Look, but was sufficiently aware of his own personality flaws not to object too strenuously to her easy acceptance of Scott’s charges against him.

Xavier attempted to regain control of the discussion. "Rogue, we’re not here to make accusations — " Scott set his jaw angrily at *that* little statement of policy, "— but surely you can appreciate our... concerns. Whenever we see a large age difference in a romantic relationship, sometimes there is a case of the older partner having an unhealthy amount of control over the younger."

"You’re saying you think I’m the one calling all the shots here." Logan snorted at the very idea.

Rogue laughed. "Believe me, he doesn’t tell me to do anything I don’t want to do anyway!"

Unfortunately, this did not win them any points from Scooter and Jeannie. "Rogue, I’m sure you *think* that, but this really isn’t any good for you..." Scott was nodding, agreeing with his fiancee, as she continued. "You’re really going to be much better off with someone your own age..."

"‘Someone my own age’? *’Someone my own age’*?! Jean, do you know how many people I have in my head? Do you know how *old* some of them are!? I sit around listening to Bobby and Jubilee going on about MTV and rollerblading and movies and all I can think is how *young* they are! I try to talk to them sometimes, about something *serious,* or about some of the problems *I* have that they’re never gonna know about because *they’re* alone in their heads, and they just stare at me and try to change the subject. And you want me to *date* someone like that?"

Charles’ gaze sharpened . This was exactly the kind of thing he’d been wondering about — the factors that Jean and Scott hadn’t been taking into consideration.

And they still weren’t considering. "Rogue, one day someone will come along who will understand everything you’re going through and listen to you and take you seriously — " Jean began.

Rogue cut in. "Yes. He already has, and I’m sitting right next to him."

Scott ran right over the top of whatever Jean’s politely considered response might have been. "You *can’t* believe that! Rogue, he’s just using you — as soon as he gets bored, he’ll be after the next woman to come along. He can’t be trusted!"

Logan’s politely considered response to *that* one was to settle for turning in his seat to glare at Cyclops and growl, while tightening his grip on Marie’s waist possessively, rather than taking the asshole’s head off.

Marie rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "*I* trust him — and I know him a lot better than any of *y’all* do..."

This struck a nerve in the supposedly unflappable Jean, who up until the previous evening had believed that *she* knew Logan better than anyone else under Xavier’s roof except possibly Charles himself. "Then you’re making a mistake!"

"And it’s *my* mistake to make — if it *is* a mistake, which I obviously don’t think it is — and *I’m* the one who’ll be living with the consequences, so why don’t you just back off and let me run my own life?"

It was the perennial cry of the adolescent, believing themselves to be already in the adulthood they were on the cusp of. Familiar with the teenaged capacity to consider oneself mature while making juvenile decisions, Scott dismissed the protest. "Rogue, you’re not *old enough* to run your own life. That’s why you’re here."

Not the wisest statement to make.

"No, I’m here because my parents thought the same thing, so I left them and wound up here. If I have to, I can leave here just as easily."

Xavier straightened in alarm. He could see the determined set of Rogue’s jaw and the warning glint in her eyes. Further, he got the point — this was no idle threat. She had run before — from home *and* from his school. If driven to do so again, she would.

Logan had been letting Rogue do the talking because he sensed that her half of their relationship was both the obvious target of attack and the strongest possible defense. Suspecting now that Scooter and Jeannie were about to blow off Rogue’s warning as teenaged bullshit, he spoke up. "Even easier — this time she wouldn’t be goin’ alone."

"Are you threatening to *abduct* a *minor* unless we sit back and let you go on committing statutory rape under this roof?!"

Well, Cyke at least had gotten the point. Judging by the outrage on Jeannie’s face, she was on the same page. Logan suspected Chuckie had the sense to have taken Marie’s threat seriously as soon as she made it.

"Pretty much, yes."

"It wouldn’t be abduction — I’d be going willingly," Rogue added.

[This has gone on long enough,] Xavier decided. "If I may interrupt, I believe that most of you have classes to go to right now. We’ll continue this later. Logan, if you would stay on a bit longer...?"

The call of duty was enough to distract Scott from his attack — though he might have protested were it not for the promise of a later session. Jean seemed less inclined to leave, but was just aware enough of her own bias in this matter to follow her fiance’s lead.

Rogue was not at all inclined to leave her lover alone to deal with the Professor, but under the circumstances felt that a refusal to go to class would only hurt matters. She ruffled his hair affectionately. "See you at lunch." He gave her waist another squeeze before releasing her, glancing up to meet her eyes. She caught the underlying worry in the look he gave her, understanding that baiting Scooter was a hobby but that he actually cared about what Chuckie thought of him. Not that he’d come right out and admit it — but she knew. She leaned down and gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

Straightening, Rogue slid off the chair arm and to her feet, realizing then that every eye in the room was on her — or perhaps more accurately, on the anomalous skin-on-skin contact just demonstrated. She headed for the door with an elaborately casual air, giving Jean an acerbic look as she passed. [You *had* your chance, and you passed him up. Don’t blame *me* because *you* were an idiot,] she thought, making it as loud and clear as possible and hoping like hell that Red actually caught it.

Jean may have missed it, but Xavier didn’t. He gave the exiting trio a measuring look, adding the knowledge to the mental picture he was forming of the emotions and tensions swirling about the two couples. When the door closed, he turned his full attention to Logan.

"Perhaps it would have been better for me to have spoken to the pair of you without Jean and Scott present — but they were the ones to bring the matter to my attention, and in truth I wanted to see how you both were going to react to such overt disapproval." He sensed Logan relaxing at the realization that he was no longer under direct attack, and continued. "But now I’d like to ask you a few of the questions that I wasn’t given the chance to earlier. To start with, Rogue touched you, just now, and nothing happened. How?"

Logan shrugged dismissively. "Just took a bit of practice, with someone who wouldn’t wind up spending a week in the Medlab after every try. She got it down."

"Yet she still wears gloves...?"

Logan shrugged again. "First she wanted to be careful because she didn’t trust herself yet, and now she does it because she’s so used to them. I had to *make* her start taking them off when I take her places, so she’d learn to relax in public." He half-smiled. "And no, she hasn’t had any accidents brushing up against people without being all layered up, and yes, she’s safe to touch. For anybody, not just me. I think the only reason she hasn’t told everybody so she can ditch the gloves for good is she doesn’t want to deal with the fuss." He looked wry. "And that means that no, she’s not with me just because I’m the only one who can touch her, or something like that."

Clearly Logan understood that the claim of being the only one able to touch Rogue safely would have been a powerful argument towards preserving his relationship with her. The fact that he’d chosen to be honest instead was a point in his favor.

Moving on to the next question, "Which would certainly make things a great deal easier were you to leave the school with Rogue." Charles raised an eyebrow.

Logan sighed and nodded. "It would — but I don’t want that any more than you do. I *know* she’s better off here than on the road, and I want her to be able to finish up and graduate. She tells me she can do that anywhere we picked to settle down for awhile, or just pick up her G.E.D. — but I’d rather she did that *here*. It’s a good school and her friends are here and it’s safe and it’s a lot more comfortable than bein’ on the road all the time."

"So you *are* keeping her best interests in mind."

Logan frowned at him. "Yes. Always."

Probing delicately, "Some would argue that it isn’t in the best interests of a young girl to allow her to involve herself with an adult."

Beginning to glare, "That sounds like Cyke and Red, and it’s pretty goddamned unfair. Counting all the secondhand experience she’s got, she remembers more than the two of them combined. Besides, like she said — comes a point you gotta let someone start making their own mistakes, cause right or wrong they’re the ones who’ve gotta live with the results."

Xavier leaned back in his chair. "And do *you* think she’s making a mistake?"

Logan sighed. "I don’t know — hope not." Then he gave the Professor another of those sardonic half-grins. "Besides — how many people do you know of *any* age who can get ‘involved’ with anyone else knowing for sure it *won’t* turn out to be a mistake?"

Charles silently acknowledged the point. "And you were expecting the rest of us to just close our eyes to the fact that this relationship is actually illegal?"

Logan shrugged a little, then tilted his head to one side. "Well, we weren’t exactly going around telling everybody we were together or acting all lovey-dovey in public or anything. Making it *real* easy to ignore. Besides, how much of that stuff we do running around in black leather and hopping around in our private jet is *legal*?"

The Professor gave him a quelling look. "Odd of you to bring that up, given that most of the illegal acts performed by the X-Men seem to be your own..."

Logan refused to be quelled. "And this is a lot more harmless than killing somebody, right?"

It was a telling point. Relenting, "I can’t exactly have one of my ‘teachers’ openly consorting with one of the students. Periodically we must concern ourselves with public appearances to remain a licensed school..."

Logan shrugged again. "We won’t get in anybody’s faces about it, and no one has to know that isn’t being nosy anyway."

Xavier gave him a stern look. "If I am forced to, I may have to undertake disciplinary action. *If* I am forced to... And you can’t expect approval from the others who know."

Logan half-smiled. "Scooter and Jeannie I can deal with."

"And I don't care what people say
And I don't care what people think
And I don't care how we look walking down the street"
— "Little Girls," by Oingo Boingo

Logan’s confidence proved to have been justified.

As expected, Scott threw a fit when he learned that the Professor was not only allowing Logan to remain at the school but had given tacit conditional approval of the relationship he had with Rogue. He caught Logan in the Danger Room immediately after a session and let him know just how he felt about the matter.

Logan was vastly amused. "Funny, I’d have expected you to be thrilled to learn that I hadn’t really been trying to take your girl away. Just been jerking your chain all this time..."

After pondering this for a speechless thirty seconds or so, Cyclops settled for, "If you hurt her, I’ll see to it she’s the last girl you ever touch, healing factor or not."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way..." Logan left Scooter to adjust to the realization that Logan + Rogue = Logan off the market and Jean no longer at risk. When next he ran across Cyke, the outrage had noticeably cooled.

Jean’s reaction was less straightforward. When she went to Logan to express her disapproval — catching him alone in his room while Rogue was in the rec room with her friends — she told him that he’d been deplorably inconstant in his prior romantic affections and that she hoped he would have the decency to treat Rogue with respect and not casually toss her aside for the next pretty face to catch his attention.

Logan was uncompromisingly blunt with her. "It was Marie from the beginning, Jeannie. All I was doing with you was hassling Scooter. I’m sorry if you thought I meant anything else by it — but for fuck’s sake, you *read minds*! I thought you understood all along..."

Jean managed a response that she could never remember afterwards — she only hoped it had been reasonably coherent. She fled to her room — thankfully Scott-free at the moment — and spent several hours numbly curled up on the bed dealing with the new blow to her ego.

After some time the fact that she had a fiance who loved her very much and whom she also loved began to feel important to her again. By much repetition she began to convince herself that the fact she had never acted on Logan’s flirtations proved how minimally attracted to him she had actually been. Scott was endearingly affectionate when he returned to their room early in the evening, which also helped. By morning she was able to face the prospect of showing herself in public again — even in front of Logan and Rogue.

But from that point on she resolutely pushed the whole concept of Logan-and-Rogue — as a couple, as lovers rather than merely friends or surrogate relatives — firmly from the forefront of her mind. On the surface, she classified it as a private matter she was going to leave to those involved — to make their own mistakes, without her assistance or interference. In her more emotionally honest moments, she admitted that she still winced at the reminder of her own rejection, and was too biased to deal with the pair objectively. Leave it to Scott — or better yet, Charles — to serve as relationship arbiter, to keep watch over the couple and to decide when and if external involvement might at some point prove necessary. She would leave the matter up to others.

As the other adult on campus and as the one who had first alerted Xavier to the possible improprieties, the Professor felt that Ororo deserved to be notified that her suspicions had been validated. She accepted this news with quiet aplomb, refraining from any reaction that could have been interpreted as an "I told you so," beyond the not-quite-suppressed glint of triumph in her eyes.

The only ruffling of her calm demeanor came when she asked what actions were being taken and was told that the matter was being officially ignored, aside from the close watch being kept for any signs of abuse, mistreatment or excessive control. However, when Xavier pointed out the more unusual aspects of the pair’s relationship and reiterated that the couple was being quietly supervised, she proved her levelheadedness by accepting the matter and adding herself to the group monitoring the two.

Matters having been settled, equilibrium was reached. Logan and Marie maintained an innocent facade in public and lost the habit of worrying about being "caught in the act" in private. Jubi and Kitty learned that the adults at the school were aware of the matter, and found it unworthy of comment on the occasions when their roommate spent the entire night elsewhere than in her own bed. Periodically a random student might overhear something while passing Logan’s room, or catch Rogue going from one of their rooms to the other at a suspicious time, but these tended to either keep their speculations to themselves or go to an adult — and since all of the adults at the school tended to react with, "We know — don’t worry about it," rumors were kept to a minimum and easily dismissed.

Occasionally cries were heard in the night, though largely muffled behind the soundproofing.

"Oh, God, *Daddy*, *YES*!!"

But for the most part, silence reigned.

THE END