Rogue Chronicles

DISCLAIMER : This work is a fan fiction, based on characters and situations from the Warner Brothers/MARVEL Comics Series “X-MEN : EVOLUTION”. All Characters within are the ™ and Copyright of said licensees, and are used here without their permission. This is done without intent to gain payment or money of any kind. Please Do Not Sue.

This is an Adult Story, with sexual situations, language and explicit details of nudity and sex. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YEARS OLD! Also, the Author has taken the liberty of presenting all characters within the scope of this story to be at least 18 years of age or older. No character has been depicted as being under any legal age.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Being this is my first attempt at writing a femslash story, I’m hoping it will be well received. This is a part of a four-story arc that I hope will set up for future stories, as well as branching off into new plots as well.

Enjoy the read! Maintain and Check Six! - SRS

# # #

“A WOLF IN THE FOLD...”

#

~ Duncan’s House, Bayville, Mass., Nighttime... ~

The pulse of techno beats rumbled from the speakers of the house-stereo filled the air... On the lawn and the street, cars were parked in semi-ordered rows, while teenagers used them for perches, welcoming late-comers to the bash.

It was Friday night, and once again, Duncan’s was the place to be.

Inside, the tastefully decorated main room was altered by recently placed party-lighting, throwing swirling colors along the walls that flashed and danced along with the beat. Speaking of dancing, the center of the living room was dance-central; packed with the gyrating bodies of teenaged boys and girls weaving and grinding to the techno-pulse rhythms.

Laughter and the chatter of conversation filtered through the music, as some of Bayville High’s student population sought to kick of another weekend away from school and other responsibilities.

Amid the noise and motion, a slim form dressed in subdued, goth clothing moved in between the clusters of party-goers. Her dark-auburn hair and darker eye shadow and lipstick enhancing her ensemble, Rogue tried not to bump into anyone. A hard-pressed task, considering how crowded Duncan’s home had become.

“Mercy! Things are going all out... can’t really blame anyone,” she admitted to herself. “The last set of exams were a real monster! After that sort of grind... guess it’s time to unwind for a spell.” Rogue sighed. Unwinding from exams was part of the game plan, but with her extra duties as an X-Man, this seemed to the needed tonic for all that was stressing her lately.

“This really isn’t my kind of scene... still, gotta thank Scott for bringing me here.” Ever alert to the student grapevine, Scott Summers and a few of the other Institute students had heard of the shindig. She’d been moping around in the mansion, when they cornered her and brought her along for the ride.

“Well, maybe this won’t be so bad,” she admitted. “I think I was gonna go stir crazy, just loafing around in the mansion.”

Just then, Duncan and his jock buddies rumbled by, whooping and slapping each other on the back as they crowded around the refreshment table.

Snorting, Rogue muttered, “Guess even the Neanderthals managed to pass their exams.” She sidestepped a straggler in a red-and-yellow letterman jacket, who’d nearly brushed the back of his hand against her cheek when he waved to Duncan. “Man! This power of mine can be a curse sometimes,” she sighed as she brushed back the stray white locks that fell over from her forehead, relieved when he was past her.

“Woo-HOO! Who’s ready to try to beat Bayville’s best at foozeball?” Duncan crowed, grinning at his assembled athletes.

“I’m game if you are, Dunc!” “Yeah! Tourney-match for the Pride of Bayville!” “C’mon, let’s get ready to RUMBLE!”

Duncan and his cronies rolled away from the tables holding the spread party snacks: mobbing the dance floor as they continued to laugh and joke about beating each other as they headed for the game room.

“Talk about testosterone-overload!”Wrinkling her nose, Rogue ambled towards the tables herself. “Good thing the pack moved on... how’s a gal supposed to get anything to wet her whistle?” She paused to snag a handful of chips, munching on the salty snacks before she scooped up a cupful of the ruby-red punch sitting in the punch bowl nearby.

“Hey! Check it,” a guy on the other side of the table said, grinning to a girl behind him, “Someone added some extra kick to the libations!” He held up two cups, handing one over to the girl as they walked towards a cluster of people talking on the fringes of the dance floor.

Blinking, Rogue looked down at the cup in her hand. “Extra kick?” She sniffed the contents before screwing her face up at the smell of alcohol fumes. “Eww, they spiked it!” She started to set the cup down, but several people suddenly arrived at the table, forcing her to move away before she could come into contact with any of them.

“Geez! Don’t everyone go nuts... it’s only booze,” Rogue griped, moving away from the crowd and into a darkened hallway, leading deeper into the house. “Man... I really shouldn’t be here,” she muttered. Not wanting to head back into the music and noise, she looked down the hall with a frown. “Well, it’s either this or work my way through the crowds to get outside.” She paused then stepped further inside, nibbling on the remainder of her chips.

Deeper in, the noise from the music faded somewhat. Sighing with relief, Rogue paused to lean against a wall. “Peace and quiet,” she told herself. “Well, as much as you can get at one of these shindigs.” She finished off the last of the chips, licking her lips to get the salty taste off of them. This made her thirsty, so on reflex, she started to lift the cup in her hand, only realizing at the last second that it still contained the doctored drink.

“Crud, I should dump this before I poison myself! No telling what kind of stuff Duncan’s boys poured into it!” She looked around for some place to dispose of it... but no planters or nick-knack tables were handy. Holding the cup away from her, she poked her head around a bend in the hallway, hoping to find a bathroom or some spare room to leave it in...

That’s when she discovered that others were using the quiet of the house to get away.

“Oh!” she gasped, only muffling herself with her free hand before giving herself away, trying to remain quiet as two student bodies - dressed in weekend, typical teenager attire - were tucked away in a corner at the end of the hall. Both sets of arms wrapped around each eager body, pulling themselves in for a close-up clinch.

Swell, thought Rogue, as the sounds of sighs of pleasure drifted to her ears. I go from one party to another. Only I’m not invited to this one! Not that it would matter if I was... one touch, and lover boy there’d be locked in a coma. She frowned, remembering Cody, the star player from her old high school’s football team. When he’d touched her by accident - the first touch of bare flesh on her own - that had revealed Rogue’s mutantcy, and changed her life forever...

The kissing sounds got louder: soft smacking sounds as the two lovers were uping the ante. Geez, get a room you guys! Rogue half-smirked silently. She started to pull away, not wanting to break the couple up...

“Oh, Scott...”

Rogue froze. That voice!

Blinking, she looked back and stared harder, realizing too late that this wasn’t some nameless pair of students, looking to cop some feels in private. This was Scott Summers and Jean Grey: the slim, serious young man and the beautiful redhead who had been Xavier’s first students. From the sounds they were making, they were proving without a doubt that they’d dropped all pretence of not having any feelings between each other.

“Jean...” The light smack of a kiss followed Scott’s murmuring of Jean’s name.

Mortified, Rogue couldn’t bring herself to look away. She watched as Scott’s hands moved with soft, loving caresses over Jean’s clothed form. Jean reciprocated, rubbing her slim hands over Scott’s back in slow, languid trails. From the heavy breathing they were making, it was clear they’d been at this for quite a while.

Rogue felt the blood race through her temples, a hot flash running along her body as she remained locked in place. The tall field-leader of the X-Men had never hidden his fondness for the team’s TP/TK wielder... this much Rogue knew. Though, this was the first time that she’d ever seen the two of them in close, intimate contact.

Every fiber of her good sense screamed at her to turn away and leave her two team-mates alone. Yet, a tiny part of her, the one that still had feelings for the lanky, dark-haired mutant snogging away in front of her... that part made her fervently wish it was her in Scott’s arms, kissing him back like Jean was.

“...mmmm,” Jean purred, running her hand up into Scott’s hair as they began to move closer together.

Shaking her head, Rogue swallowed past the heavy knot in her throat. Her breath sounded loud in her ears, certain that any moment either of her friends would hear that they weren’t alone in the dark. Finally, getting her feet to respond, she backed away from the two lovers, ducking around the corner before turning away and tip-toeing back towards the party. When she was sure she’d gotten out of their range of hearing, she let out the breath she’d been holding back, letting it explode between her trembling lips.

“Geez-us!” she moaned, a sad tone coloring her exclamation of pained emotion. Her mind pinwheeling around like mad, she sought to calm herself... even though two thoughts were bubbling up to painfully, crystal-clarity: the lesser one, that she wished she’d been in Scott’s arms, rather than Jean... and the second - which was more alarming - that she’d also wished she’d been in Jean’s arms, rather than Scott.

Shaking her head, Rogue looked around, seeking something to help distract her from these mad thoughts. Unconsciously, she clenched her fingers, which still held the cup of doctored punch. Feeling the plastic cup crinkle under her gloved hand, Rogue glanced down at the pink-colored concoction...

“Oh brother, what am I thinking?” she muttered, not sure which was the lesser of two evils at this point. However, the pang inside didn’t seem all that palpable at this point, in comparison to what this stuff would do to her.

Grimacing, she nevertheless raised the cup to her lips and sipped a mouthful, swallowing it almost timidly. The cloying-sweet flavor of pineapple and strawberry almost masked the quick, alcohol burn as the liquid slid down her throat. Shivering in reflex, Rogue half-expected to bring the punch back up as quickly as she forced it down...

Ten seconds later, the punch blossomed a ball of warmth inside her belly, which spread out through her limbs in a rather surprising, yet pleasing rush. Unaware, she’d licked her lips. “Hmmmmm,” she mumbled, looking into the cup with a quizzical expression. Finally, she admitted, “This stuff’s... not bad.” Taking another swallow, she tolerated the burn much more easily this time.

“Wow,” she half-grinned, seeing she’d actually drank about two-thirds of the cup in two gulps. The warmth seemed to smother the earlier pangs and feelings, making her giggle softly out of reflex. “Mmm, wonder if there’s more of this left?” Determined to find out, Rogue started back down the hall towards the sounds of the on-going party...

# # #

~ Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Children, The Mansion House, Hours Later... ~

Sitting on the main staircase, Rahne Sinclair yawned softly, her jaw popping slightly as she fought to stay awake. Dressed in her short-set pajamas, the high-school student had the air of someone's anxious kid sister, waiting on the stairs for her older siblings to arrive from somewhere. Leaning her head against the banister, she groaned, feeling stiff from sitting for all of the three hours she’d been at her lone vigil.

“Rahne?”

Jerking upright, Rahne turned towards the speaker, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Oh... Professor Xavier!”

Rolling around the side of the staircase, the bald-headed headmaster of the Institute smiled disarmingly at her, folding his hands over the front of his somber tweed sweater. “I’m sorry if I startled you... with all of the others in bed by now, I didn’t expect anyone else up aside from Hank or Logan,” he stated.

“Sorry, Professor. I dinae feel like sleepin’,” Rahne admitted.

“Ah, are you having a little trouble falling asleep?” Xavier asked.

Nodding, Rahne ran a hand through her short red hair. “Somewhat... Scott an’ th’ others all went out somewhere, an’...” She ducked her head slightly, hoping she didn’t blush too much. “Well, I usually feel better knowin’ when they’re all home.”

“Ah. Well, the rest will be back soon enough.” Xavier said with a small smile. “Though, I should remind you, while it’s not a school night, I expect all my students to get their rest.”

“I know, Sir,” Rahne sighed. “I must be wound up a touch. Th’ exams at school have been a real grind, Sir.”

“Well, with them being over, you should have some of the stress removed.”

“That’s guid,” Rahne nodded. “I’ll be of t’bed soon, Professor. I promise.”

Xavier nodded. “Good. I hope you’ll sleep well, Rahne.” With that, Xavier aimed his powered wheelchair towards the lower level access doorway, and rolled towards it. “I’ll be joining everyone shortly, after I make sure the security systems won’t go off when Scott and the others get back from Duncan’s.” He looked one last time at Rahne and smiled. “Good night.”

“G’night, Professor,” she returned, smiling shyly. When he was out of sight, she closed her eyes and sighed in relief. “Mercy! I don’t mean t’sound rude... I just thought he’d never leave!” Shaking her head, she turned back towards the entrance. It was one thing when it was clear Xavier was clearly looking after her best interests... she didn’t want to seem ungrateful for that.

But, if the Professor had managed to fathom the thoughts that were going through her mind... Rahne shuddered, imagining how he’d have reacted.

“It’s not my fault tho,” she whispered to herself. “I canna... who can ever help who they’re attracted to? I mean, I don’t know how she feels, but...” Her words trailed off in a sigh, as she rested her cheek on one drawn-up knee.

“I can still remember when she first came here,” Rahne mused. “Th’ Professor said that she’d been forced t’think of th’ X-Men as her mortal enemies... but, thanks t’Scott an’ th’ others, she’s become one o’ th’ best of us.” She smiled softly, recalling when she and all of her new classmates had been first introduced to all of the upper classmen in Xavier’s school. Especially her. “She looked so... mysterious! Her powers kept her at a distance, at first... but, she’s slowly become a good friend t’us all.” Rahne’s cheeks colored slightly as she added, “And... she’s become something more...”

Suddenly, the sound of the front doors opening broke her train of thought. Jerking upright, Rahne stared at the foyer’s domed entrance, a small gasp escaping her lips as she recognized the teetering figure framed in the light streaming from the porch light outside.

“Rogue?”

The door banged softly, as the southern-bred mutant leaned on one arm, her head hanging down over her chest as she muttered hoarsely, “mmm-lo? Perfessor? Ah...I can... explain?”

Rahne bolted to her feet, moving towards Rogue as the taller female swung around the door jamb, barely hanging on by the tips of her fingers as she wobbled on unsteady legs. “Rogue! What is wrong wi’ ye?” she hissed, not wanting to shout so as to alert anyone to come investigate. She barely caught Rogue about the waist, keeping her from collapsing altogether. “Oof!” she grunted, feeling her arms strain against Rogue’s dead weight.

“Wha... whoze there?” Rogue mumbled, her head indexing side to side slowly, before she let her sight fall on the red-haired teen beside her. “Hey... itza puppy girl!”

Rahne wrinkled her nose, catching a whiff of Rogue’s breath. “Ew! Ye smell like an auld wine bottle!”

“’Cause I’ve... been drinkin’... party, punch, m’girl,” Rogue slurred, a small, sad grin slipping over her face. “Not that th’party was... much of a much... t’get happy o’er,” she added, ending her words with a small hiccup.

Rahne frowned, then looked away to where the door that Xavier had vanished through just moments ago. “Oh no,” she gasped, alarm making her heart leap to her throat. “If the Professor catches ye like this...” She set her jaw in a firm line. “Rogue... Rogue?” Rogue had started to hum a wordless tune, starting softly yet growing louder as she tottered heavily against Rahne’s grip. “Rogue, listen t’me... we’ve got t’get ye up to yer room before Professor Xavier-!”

“Xavier!” Rogue jerked upright, scowling as she let her eyes sweep the length of the foyer. “He promised... promised me,” she grumbled, her face a dark, drunken mask as she tried to push Rahne away. “He’d help me... help me... XAVIER!”

With a squeak of fear, Rahne reached up and snagged Rogue’s arm, pulling her off kilter as she forced her to stumble away from the entrance. “Rogue! Quiet!” She staggered under the burden of the taller female’s body, ushering her towards the stairway. “Please, we need t’get you t’bed! Don’t let th’ Professor know yer like this...” She gasped as they reached the foot of the stairs, eying the length of the height they would have to climb.

With a hiccup, Rogue let her head sag back against one shoulder. “Aww... gotta think... gotta see... th’ Perfessor,” she growled softly.

“In th’ mornin’,” Rahne hissed, levering herself so she could place one foot on the bottom step. “Right now, ye need t’ get yer head straight. An’ f’r that, ye need t’be in yuir room,” she reasoned.

# # #

After trudging through the several, agonizing minutes it took to get Rogue up the stairs - fearing each moment that they’d be discovered by Xavier, Logan or anyone - Rahne dragged her friend’s uncooperative body along the upper hallway, down to her room. After a short fumble with the doorknob, the tiny redhead slipped inside and pulled Rogue in after her.

“Wh-wha... whaz, goin’ on?” Rogue asked, when Rahne leaned her against the wall next to the door, so she could push it closed.

“Shhh!” Rahne hissed softly. “Yer home... in yer room,” she explained.

“Oh,” she replied. As inebriated as she was, Rogue couldn’t keep her head upright as she pressed herself against the wall. “I... don’ feel... s’good.”

“Let’s get ye laid down,” Rahne said, as she locked the door, hoping that no one would come to investigate until daybreak. “Perhaps ye’ll feel better then?”

“S’hope so,” Rogue grunted, leaning over Rahne’s shoulder when the short redhead pulled her back onto her feet. With her head bobbling while Rahne shuffled across the room to her bed, Rogue let a sour burp slip through her lips. “Stop... whose, spinnin’... th’ room?” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Hold, on,” Rahne said, trying to keep the drunk girl from crashing to the floor, all the while praying Rogue didn’t become so ill that she’d need to be seen by Xavier or Dr. McCoy. She finally got close enough to let Rogue slip onto the bed, helping ease her onto the down comforter gently. “Whew! There we go,” she sighed, letting go of Rogue’s waist.

“ooh, geez... what’s... wrong wi’ mah head?” Rogue asked softly, putting the heel of one hand to her forehead.

Rahne looked at her teammate with concern. “Ye’ve... ye look drunk, Rogue,” she said.

“Nah... I feel drunk...” Rogue tipped her head back, closing her eyes against the swimming sensation that made her vision blur. “Oh, next time I go tah one of Duncan’s parties... I’m layin’ off the punch!”

Rahne crawled up onto the bed next to Rogue, her brow pinched with worry. “Rogue, what made ye possessed t’even drink anythin’ so doctored up wi’ liquor? Th’ Professor told us all ‘bout th’ evils of alcohol last s’mester.”