What if there was another, darker reason for the diary quest?
(Occurs between X-Men #109 and X-Treme X-Men #1)
No Strings Attached by Nina(monkey)
They had been talking in circles all morning. He had been smug
and arrogant, she imperious and cold. The game had begun, and on the outside,
neither really cared. Now it was simply a question of who would leave whom first
with the least hurts and the most dignity.
You didn't ask
me...
Love will find a way...
The veiled messages
between the phrases were sprinkled with uglier truths than either wanted to
admit. She was leaving, and she didn't want him to come along. Why, because they
needed a spy at the mansion? Naw. That wasn't it. They both knew why.
She
had fallen for him, and he was playing games with her heart.
"'Ro." He
stared at his hands, for once unable to give it to her straight, unable to
wrestle with feelings that hurt him as much as they hurt her. "You don't have to
leave. You don't--"
"Yes, I do," she said softly. She even had a smile
for him, but it was rather chilly. "You said it yourself, did you not? What were
your exact words--oh, yes, I remember. 'I'm not sure.'"
Logan winced a
little, remembering the earlier conversation. Ororo rarely got snappish or ugly
but she was furious, and she had every right to be. He was surprised that she
controlled the weather as well as she did. "I said I wasn't sure about your
little adventure. Didn't think it was too real."
"Because you think I am
running from 'us'."
"Yeah," he admitted. "An' yer draggin' people along
with you for the ride. I know it's the real reason you're up an' leavin', but
I'm usually the one doin' that shit."
She was quiet and a small breeze
picked up outside her attic window. She turned from him and stared into the
attic skylight, full of regal importance and more than a little rage. He also
smelled other things in there, things like sorrow. Loneliness. Unshed tears.
Maybe even freedom.
"Tell me, Logan," she said softly. "Did you ever love
me, or was I simply Jean's substitute?"
He grunted. "Yer aimin' below the
belt, 'Ro."
Her jaw tightened but she didn't answer. Not directly,
anyway. The breeze outside suddenly picked up and slapped a branch against the
windowpane. After a pause she nodded.
"You didn't answer my question. So
I have my answer."
"No, you don't," Logan muttered. He chanced it, and
came closer to her side. She stiffened, but he knew she longed for his touch
like nothing else. He wrapped his hand around her waist. "I do love you,
'Ro."
She leaned her head against his cheek and the scent of unshed tears
intensified. "But not in the way I want you to. You know I want to be more than
your sexual partner. Much more."
"I know, darlin'," he whispered. "Maybe
when I grow up some..."
She sniffed and shook her head, and a small wave
of disgust hit his nostrils.
Guess he deserved that.
Man, he was
sorry--really sorry it didn't work out earlier. And he'd tried, but always at
the wrong time. When he wanted to go ahead and go deeper, she'd already be in a
relationship. When he finally got his act together, something'd snap, and he'd
pine over Red. Last time he pulled this crap she ran off to Wakanda to try and
rekindle something with the damn king. But T'Challa, like Jean, was
unobtainable--a dream to pass the time. It wouldn't work for her anymore than he
and Jean would. So when he asked, she came back home. For him.
Then, like
usual, he fucked it up.
Last week, Emma Frost had played hostess to the
first Christmas party of the season. It was more like a wake. No one had felt
much like celebrating because of Moira's death, but they had decided to put on a
good show. Cable, Irish, and the Cajun ignored the good spirits and just got
hammered, and the girls weren't in much better shape. Even Ororo had drunk a few
more glasses of wine than her customary two.
"You okay,
darlin'?"
Ororo swallowed the rest of the wine in her glass and twirled
the bottom somberly. She paused, knowing full well that she couldn't lie to him,
but she didn't really want to tell the truth.
"Not really."
They
were in the dark and secluded from the party next door, sitting side by side on
a loveseat that Emma must've reserved for bigger guests, like Beast, or Bishop.
The huge, gaping dent in the center created more distance between them than he
would've liked.
Ororo was a little tipsy, but she was probably the second
most lucid one at the party without counting him. She'd asked him to the quiet
corner to talk but she had yet to say anything.
He sighed and lightly
kissed her bare shoulder. "'Ro, I wanted you back here. I don't think you're
right for T'Challa."
Am I right for you? She could have asked. It
hung, unspoken, between them, but she didn't say it. She could've said a whole
slew of swear words or thrown shit at him, or thrown Jean back in his face, but
she didn't. She calmly weaved her fingers and sat back in the couch, perfectly
calm and composed. The perfect Ice Goddess.
"No, I'm not. He has his
duties, and I have mine. It wouldn't have worked out. He must rule Wakanda, and
I cannot leave the X-Men. So, yes, you're right, Logan. So?"
He shrugged.
"I'm sorry. I know how it feels."
"I know," she whispered. She glanced at
the dining room table, contemplating another glass of wine, and changed her
mind. "So where does this leave us, then? Two lonely soldiers, waiting
for...what? A prince or princess on a white horse?"
He chuckled. "You're
a little drunk."
"Not that drunk, Logan."
"Yeah. I know...But,
c'mon, d'you really want an answer to that?"
Her eyes snapped up now and
he sensed a new emotion mixed with the anger. He wasn't sure how to read it,
because she rarely radiated it. "I do."
Drunk or not, he knew that
serious tone well. The emotion finally clicked. "You wanna go public with us,
don't ya?"
She glanced away and played with the stem of her glass. "I
wouldn't mind it. Are we, or aren't we, Logan? What exactly do we have? It's
deeper than friendship. We're lovers already. Is it so difficult to take the
extra step?"
He didn't answer immediately, and she took his hesitation
the wrong way. She got up from the couch and refilled her wine glass across the
room. Next door, Betsy and Rogue were screeching at the top of their lungs at
some party game, and Warren was stumbling around in a half-sloppy daze. Logan
didn't even see Remy, Nate, or Sean anymore. He figured the trio was either out
cold or as bad off as Wings. Damn, they were a sorry bunch. They all deserved a
Sentinel attack right now, to take 'em down a peg and to get their self-pitying
asses back to work.
He pursed his lips and went over to Ororo. "Okay," he
said.
She put her glass back down and eyed him narrowly. "'Okay'
what?"
Logan grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "Yer gonna make me
do this the hard way, huh?"
"There is no hard way, Logan," she said
softly, turning from him. He liked how her hair came away from her scarf and
tumbled down her back. "You either want to, or you don't."
"I want to,"
he said, running his fingers through her hair. He genuinely meant it.
She
smiled now. The first genuine smile he'd seen all night.
"Good."
"There you two are," a voice squealed. Logan winced at
Emma's girly squawk. The woman was tanked. "C'mon, it's picture
time."
Ororo actually laughed at the dread on his face. "She won't leave
us alone unless we do this, you know."
"I know," he growled.
"Oh,
you'll love it," Emma said, grabbing his hand. She dragged him into the
sitting room, where the rest of them were, threw him into the biggest chair, and
demanded that Betsy, Rogue, and Ororo hang off him like he was some kind of
sugar daddy.
"Ooh, perfect shot. Ororo, sweets, get a little closer,
won't you?"
Ororo wrapped her arm around his neck, filling his nostrils
with her delicate--and very public--scent. His lips turned in a slight frown.
Did he really want to do this public thing? Shit. What the hell was he thinking?
She'd be in danger, all the time. Is that what he wanted?
"That's
it! Ooh, I'll have enough to blackmail the lot of you. How delicious.
Logan...Logan, would it break your face if you gave me just one teensy
smile?"
A growl rumbled deep in his chest and she rolled her eyes. "Never
mind. Say 'cheese,' darlings."
Snap.
They laughed and
giggled at the Polaroid and at his stern face, but the picture haunted him for
days. He wasn't sure what to do, now. Dammit. Getting into a serious
relationship meant endangering someone else's life, and he wasn't so sure he
wanted to do that anymore.
After the party they went back to the mansion
and made love--one of their best, he thought, with a grin. While she slept, he
went for a smoke off the back porch and saw a faint glow over by the boathouse.
He didn't blame Jeannie for wandering around like a lost calf during the
holidays. Her memories of Scott were still fresh, and he didn't blame her for
not feeling very festive. And she was there when Moira died. Jean's
feelings--and his--made his mind wander.
He had half a shot,
now.
You can't do this to 'Ro, he warned himself. He snuffed his cigar
and watched the boathouse for a while, and froze on the back porch until Jean's
bedroom light went out. He shook off his animalistic side and stuffed down the
erotic thoughts. Truth was, the Polaroid had scared him, and made him think he
wasn't as free as he thought. Made him wonder about shit. That was his problem.
He thought too much.
So after the smoke on the porch he took too much
time mulling over his thoughts, and started pulling away. Again. When Ororo
confronted him about it, he used his sure-fire "out" clause. Told her he wasn't
sure how he felt about them being together anymore. That he still had feelings
for Jean he needed to sort out.
How convenient that the diary shit hit
the fan soon after that.
He had to tell 'Ro the truth. He couldn't lie to
her, never could. They'd slept together for years--in fact, he thought with a
sad smirk, the games people saw in the daytime were nothing compared to the
games they played in private. But they'd promised each other in the beginning,
"No Strings Attached," and he told her that's how he felt. The sex worked to
quell the loneliness inside both their hearts for a while,
anyway.
Thunder rattled the walls of the attic and brought his mind back.
To now. To her leaving him.
"I cannot stay with my heart twisted like
this," she whispered, pushing him away. "I have been there, and I choose not to
return. And I can't stay and...and feel my heart dying a second time. I can't
watch you drive another wedge between Jean and Scott."
He made an ugly
noise. "That ain't fair. I wouldn't--"
She held up a hand. "You've
chosen, Logan, and I must respect that. I shouldn't continue to wait for you or
for anyone else. It's foolish of me."
The weather went crazy right then,
and he was surprised that it had taken so long. "'Ro, I'm sorry.
I--"
"Go," she said. She spun from him imperiously and stared at the
skylight, but he could tell tears were falling now. "Please spare me your
pity."
It's not pity, he wanted to yell. I do love you, that
way. I love you more than Panther ever could. We can work this out. I can
change. We can change. Don't shut me out of your life. His thoughts shocked
him. Maybe he did feel that way, or maybe he was just too afraid to lose another
friend and his infantile reflex of clinging to forbidden fruit finally kicked
in. It was too late, though. He wanted to say something, anything, but he
couldn't. Not only had he just ruined their semi-comatose love life, but he also
ruined their friendship.
Good one, Logan.
He nodded, turned
on his heel, and left her in her room. Alone. He didn't even have the guts to
look back.
* * *
At first light, they were already gone. Gone,
packed...erased from existence. No note, no good-bye call, and no kiss. He'd
miss her kisses, he thought sullenly. He hadn't slept much that night, but he
must've slept long enough to miss their exit. Figures. Always a day late and a
dollar short.
You let the best thing in your life walk out that door.
Happy?
Ecstatic.
It was about then that he felt his heart
turn. He felt like some damn marionette whose wires were suddenly snipped, whose
role in life was suddenly missing. Hell, he didn't need it. Love? It was all
just sex between the sheets. Just somethin' to pass the time 'til the next one
came around. He buried his heart, and willed it to stay buried. 'Roro was gone,
and life was unfair. Learn to deal, Logan.
But deep inside, hidden under
his apathy and bitterness, he dreamt about her return. Wondering...hoping that
she still loved him as deeply as he still loved
her.