This is a story based on the X-Men universe, most specifically on the films. Some of the background is based loosely on X-Men 2, but there are no spoilers. If you like this story, you’ll probably like ‘From a Boeing 747’ as well. Don’t forget to vote and send feedback.
Thanks go to WildSweetOne, who as usual provided stirling editorial work and critique. Thanks for your patience with me. Ego disco lente.
"It's okay Rogue. I trust you."
"I don't want to hurt you Bobby." Rogue and Bobby were playing their usual cat and mouse flirting in the living room. An army of interested spectators watched on, most of them purely to see if this was the time that Bobby would get fried.
Rogue rocked her head back, avoiding Bobby's touch. She wanted to, oh how she wanted to. "Bobby, I can't."
Undeterred, Bobby moved his head closer until his lips were almost brushing hers. "You won't hurt me. I trust you."
"Bobby!" Rogue squirmed out from underneath her boyfriend, careful as always to avoid touching him with any exposed flesh. "The first boy I kissed ended up in a coma for six months. I don't wanna risk that happening to you."
"It won't." Bobby stared at Rogue. Her elbow length gloves and skin covering clothes gave her the appearance of an elegant Elizabethan lady, while the streaks of white in her jet black hair provided an exotic aura. She was so beautiful, so desirable and yet so far out of reach. "Trust me. It'll be fine."
"Bobby." Rogue sighed in desperation, cursing her mutation for doing this to her. "I just can't." She swept away, fleeing the prying eyes that seemed to follow her and Bobby around.
Bobby sank back down into the sofa, feeling as though a herd of elephants had just stampeded over him. Fifteen pairs of disappointed teenage eyes still watched him intently. "Come on guys, show's over. Leave me alone."
Rogue was almost sprinting by the time she got upstairs to her room. Tears streamed down her face, streaking her elegant makeup and her silky hair whipped against her face. She got into her room and slammed the door behind her, shoving a chair up under the handle so that no-one could come in. Then she sank down to her knees and abandoned herself to her misery.
This wasn't fair. Ever since turning sixteen, she'd had this curse hanging over her. Every time someone touched her bare skin, she started sucking the life out of them. Literally. Contact with her skin seemed to activate her mutation and she started 'stealing' their life force. She'd almost killed several people simply by accidentally brushing against them.
And now she'd met Bobby. Bobby who was so sweet, so sensitive, so understanding and she couldn't even touch him. She'd only ever been able to touch his face through these stupid gloves. Rogue tore the silk gauntlets from her hands and threw them across the room, her rage overwhelming her. She was cursed, prevented from contact with another human being for the rest of her life.
Suddenly there was a rattling as the door handle knocked against the chair. Startled out of her misery, Rogue stood up and went over to remove the barricade. There was a wooden thunk and three metal spikes smashed through the door, shattering the chair into a thousand pieces.
Rogue yelped with shock, then grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. "Logan! Stop it!"
Logan fell into the room. "Hey Rogue." The three claws protruding from his hand were firmly embedded in the oak of her bedroom door and he was trying, unsuccessfully, to disguise how much effort he was putting into getting them free. "You okay?"
“You could have knocked."
"Yeah, but that wouldn't have been as much fun. Anyway, it's therapeutic to take your anger out on inanimate objects."
Rogue smiled. "Guess you're not thrilled about having to babysit?"
Logan gave up the pretence of nonchalance and started tugging on his hand. "Babysitting's the perfect job for me. Lots of kids, lots of responsibility, can't go where I like or do what I like. Can't think why I wasn't offered the job earlier.”
He grinned around his everpresent cigar and gave up the struggle with the door. "Do you think you could give me a hand here? Or are you going to sell tickets for the fight of the century - Wolverine vs The Door?"
Rogue smiled and grabbed his wrist with both hands, forgetting that she'd taken her gloves off. Immediately she felt it, but it was too late. Her muscles clenched around Logan's wrist in a vice grip and she could feel the energy flow into her, pulsing with energy and vitality. She could hear distant choking sounds from Logan, but they barely penetrated her consciousness. There was nothing but this feeling.
With an almighty effort, she forced herself to let go. The contact broke and she fell backwards, forcing herself away from Logan. Her entire body was zinging with energy and her head was buzzing. Rogue held her hand up in front of her and watched, detached, as all her cuts and scars healed in a second.
Suddenly the world recovered and real time cut in. Life imposed itself on Rogue again and she realised what had happened. "Logan? You okay?"
Logan lay slumped on the floor, his right hand still dangling from the door. Cuts opened up all over his face as his healing ability struggled to recover from Rogue's theft. Rogue grabbed her gloves and ran over to him. "Logan? Logan, come on. Wake up."