Pretty Mutant


Title:  Pretty Mutant
Author:  Terri
E-mail:  xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:  NC-17
Disclaimer:  I don't own any of them.  Darn!
Archive:  WRFA, Dolphin Haven, Peep Hut - anyone else, please ask and I'll happily provide :)
Feedback:  Please?  With a twinkie on top?  Good, bad, and ugly welcome.
Summary:  Hank gets a very unusual birthday present - Rogue.  He decides to keep her, and even though she comes in handy, some of the mansion residents don't much like having her around.
Comments:  This is the product of an especially vicious plot bunny that was fed and nurtured by Tiffany.  It's a take on the movie Pretty Woman with Julia Roberts, only with Marie filling those shoes (or thigh-high hooker boots, as the case may be) and Hank in Richard Gere's role.  And with the plot completely different ;)  Hey, since when can I stick to the bunny 100% ;)  This was supposed to be a quick little fooflet, but, as is usual lately, it wound up clocking in at about 30 pages.  Sigh.  Where did my ability to write something *short* go? 

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I think that one, the one with the white streaks in her hair.  She looks like she's not too hard, not too jaded.  She probably hasn't been doing this for too long yet.  Heck, she looks pretty young, maybe she's only been doing this a little while.  Plus, she's got kind of a kind look about her, kind of a niceness.  Yeah, right, Bobby, nice hookers.  Sure.  That's exactly how the real world works - it's just chock full of nice hookers.  Sheesh.  Just go up to her and ask already before that transvestite propositions you again. 

"Uh, hey, can I talk to you a second?"

"Sugar, I don't get paid for talking."  Uh, right.  Right.  Be less of a dork, Bobster.

"I wanted to hire you, ah, your services."

Why's she looking around like that, she *is* a hooker, right?  She's certainly dressed like one.  I mean - oh God, if she's not a hooker, I've just really insulted a -

"See those two girls at the corner, down there?  Those are undercover cops.  Keep it down, sugar."  Cops?  Undercover hooker cops?  Oh my God I could get arrested!  Scott would kill me!  Scott would kill me!  And then Jean would fix me all up and the Professor would kill me again!  "Let's go for a walk."  Yes, yes, a walk.  A walk in the opposite direction of the hooker cops.  Yes, let's do that.  "You ever hired a girl before, sugar?"

"Um, no.  I guess that kind of shows, huh?"

"Kind of.  Right here - we can talk here."  Aha - on the other side of the road from the hooker cops and still out in the open, probably just in case I'm a psycho or something.  "What are you looking for, sugar?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure exactly what you do."  Aaaarrgh!  No, I didn't mean that.  I mean - I *know* what she does.  God, I am horrible at this.  "I mean I, ah, was hoping to hire you for the whole night.  I've got this friend back in Westchester that - "

"I don't do double-teams.  Sorry."  Oh no, don't leave!  Wait up, nice hooker!

"Wait!  Not - not both of us, heck no!  I meant - I'd like to hire you for him.  It's his birthday, and he's a - a virgin."

She stopped walking away, so maybe she doesn't think I'm a total idiot even though I just blurted that out without even a smidgen of tact.  "And just how old is your friend, sugar?  I don't do minors."

"Oh, he's not a minor.  He's definitely a major.  I mean, an adult.  He's an adult.  He's thirty."

"A thirty year old virgin?  What's wrong with him?"  I know she's joking a little but I think I was right to bring Hank's picture along.  Better to have her freak out and call me names on the street in front of the hooker cops and transvestites than to have her freak out and insult Hank in front of his friends and students. 

"Well, nothing.  Nothing, really.  There are a few minor, uh, unique things about him, but he's really very nice and very smart and an all-around great guy."

"It's not a personality contest, sugar.  What's he got?  AIDS?  Some kind of disease?"

"No.  He's a - he's a - " For heaven's sakes, just get it out, Bobby.  "He's a mutant.  His appearance is, well, it's - here." 

OK, good.  She's not shrieking in terror.  And I actually think that's a very good picture of Hank.  It was taken on new year's and he's in his tux.  He's looking almost as good as me in that picture, you know.  Almost.  Heh. 

"Unique is right, sugar."  Well, at least she's still considering it.  That's a good sign.  "What did you have in mind for him?"

"Well, sex."

"Yes, I realize that, sugar, but what kind of sex?  I don't do everything.  What do you think he'd like?" 

Oh.  Oh.  I really haven't thought this through very well, have I?  On the other hand, if I asked him, I'd have really spoiled the surprise.  There's no casual way to just go - hey, Hank, what do you think about anal sex?  Think you might like it?  Well, I guess I'm just going to have to decide for him.  "What do you do?"

Funny how she looks a little shy all of a sudden.  "Blow jobs are $50.  Sex is $100.  That's per orgasm, sugar." 

"Uh, right.  Well, yes - yes, he'd like both of those.  Definitely the sex.  He really needs to be, uh, devirginized.  He's a little embarrassed.  Oh - and I should mention that it's a surprise.  He'll be *very* surprised and, well - remember how I said he was an all-around great guy?  You might have to do a little convincing.  He's shy plus honorable."

"Not a good combination for getting laid, hmm?"

"No."  You know, she's actually kind of cute.  And funny.  "What - how much would a whole night be?  We'll - I'll drive you out to Westchester and bring you back in the morning, of course." 

"The whole night?  Hmmm.  I'd say - $700.  That's my usual take per night. $700."

"Deal."  Whew.  Sex deal.  I have cut a sex deal.  "Do I, ah, pay you now or later?"

"Now, sugar."  She's definitely cute.  I hope Hank likes her.  I hope to God he has sex with her.  After all this, I hope he just goes with it and has sex with her.  As nice as he is, as gentlemanly as he is, he's got to have needs, right?  Needs that my new friend -

"What's your name?"

"You can call me Rogue, sugar."  Needs that my new friend Rogue can fulfill.  Whew.  Hooker secured.  Mission over.  Happy birthday, Hankster, and enjoy.  This is one present you can't return.







"Nice place."  Real nice.  He wasn't kidding when he said he lived in a mansion.  I've heard of this place before, I think.  Xavier's School for Gifted Youth.  Mutie warehouse.  I'm better off on the street. 

"Yeah, uh, sorry to bring you in through the back.  But if anyone knew I brought you here - well, it just wouldn't be good." 

"No problem, sugar."  Believe me, living on the street for three years - the insult of being brought in through the back door isn't the worst thing I've had to deal with. 

"Here we are - that's his lab." 

"His lab?"

"He's a doctor - well - the Ph.D. kind not the operation kind." 

"Ah."  I'm just floored that this guy hasn't ever found a woman.  Sure, he's blue and furry, and I can see some people being scared by the fangs and claws, but if he's half as nice as his friend here says and a doctor, surely someone would've hooked up with him. 

"I'm just going to knock on the door and introduce you.  You - you'll have to take it from there, OK?"

"Relax, sugar, I'm a professional."  It's not like I've never had a nervous john before.  Never a virgin, though......

KNOCK KNOCK

"Bobby?  Ah, hello."

"Hey, Hankster!  Happy Birthday!"  Ooof - did he just shove me at the guy?  Oh great, yeah, that was a great introduction.  Thank you very much. 

"Ah....."  Oh well, time to smile and make the best of it.  It is $700, so it's worth a little awkwardness. 

"Hi.  I'm Rogue.  Your friend there, Bobby bought me for your birthday.  I'm yours for the whole night."

Either he's not quite getting it or -

"I see.  One of his pranks, no doubt.  Well, ha, ha, very funny.  Now run along, I have a lot of work to do." 

"No prank, sugar.  And you shouldn't work on your birthday."  Great.  He's just staring at me now.  "Can I come in?"

"I - I - I - "

"Is that a yes, sugar?"  Maybe I'll just put a hand on his chest.  Touching usually helps.  "Relax, OK?  Everything's all taken care of.  I'm a professional, and I'm clean.  Just relax.  We'll have a real nice time."

"Oh my stars and garters."  Aw.  That's so old fashioned that it's actually kind of cute.  "You - I - we cannot - cannot - it's illegal."

"Mmm-hmmm.  But I don't see any policemen out here in the hall."  Still in shock.  OK, plan B.  I'll just go around him and head in.  "Nice place you've got here.  Very, um, scientific."  Great.  Well, you're not getting paid for your brain, Rogue, you're getting paid for your bod. 

"Please, you must go.  I do not know what Bobby told you, but - but you must go."  I wonder if he lives down here too - I bet he does.  I think that's a bed I see back there, behind that half-open door.  Poor thing.  Living in the basement of the mutie warehouse, spending all his time down here.  "Please, ma'am - "

"You can call me Rogue, sugar, and Bobby's already paid for a whole night for you.  You wouldn't want all his money to go to waste, would you?  Why don't we just sit down and talk a little first, OK?"  Maybe that'll help.  Sometimes they like to talk first.  Being a virgin and all, I bet he'd like to talk first. 

"Rogue, I cannot avail myself of your services."  Whoa.  He's serious.  "Not only do I have an - an ideological objection to participating in the perpetuation of your profession, I have a moral issue with - with relations with minors. I cannot - "

"I'm eighteen, no worries.  And my 'profession' is the oldest one there is, sugar.  It's not going anywhere, whether you help to perpetuate it or not.  Now, why don't you come over here and sit down beside me?"  We could do it on the couch if he likes or at least begin here.  It's kind of an institutional couch, isn't it?  Not very comfortable, but I've had worse. 

"You do not understand.  I cannot do this."  But he's sitting down beside me.  And judging from the action in his khakis, certain parts of him are thinking about doing this. 

"Sugar - " Maybe if I just take his hand.  Oh my lord, he jumped like a scared cat.  Well, I'm not letting go of his hand.  Maybe that'll show him I'm not worried about the fur or how he looks.  "You can do whatever you want.  Your friend, Bobby, he confided in me that - well, that this would be your first time.  I can make it real nice for you if you'd like.  Wouldn't you like that?  Is there something you don't like about me?" 

"No - no - not at all.  It is not that."  Smile, Rogue.  He's relaxing a little.  Smile at him some more.  "It's - this is wrong." 

Hmmm.  Now there's one I haven't heard before.  You know, except from the 'spank-me-mommy-I've-been-bad' types.  "Hank - can I call you Hank?"  A nod.  Good.  Promising.  "Hank, I'm flattered and impressed that you'd turn down sex on moral grounds.  But, sugar, let me tell you something.  Sometimes things aren't exactly square with the moral high road, but doing them won't make the earth spin off its axis.  The question here, sugar, is would you like sex with me?  I've been hired to have sex with you and that's OK with me."

"Surely you must be daunted by my appearance."  Ah, I get it - it's not just the moral thing, although I think the sweet guy probably is serious about that.  He's worried that I'll make fun of him or be disgusted or something because of how he looks.  I bet that's it, or at least a big part of it. 

"You're unique, that's for sure.  Your fur - at least here, on your hands - feels nice and soft.  And those ears have got to be a girl-magnet, sugar, all nice and cute and pointy."  Hmm.  He's not quite buying it.  "Can I tell you a secret?  Would you keep it to yourself if I told you something private?"

"O-OK."

"I'm a mutant too.  It's my skin.  Used to be that I couldn't touch another person's bare skin without sucking the life out of them and killing them."  There go those cute ears, perking right up.  "Luckily for a girl in my line of work, I learned to control it."  And got a head full of Sabretooth and Mystique in the process, but that's a whole other story, and one this nice, sweet thirty-year-old virgin doesn't need to hear.  "I understand about being different, about feeling a little like an outcast."

"A *little*?  Look at me - I'm - ah, sorry."  No, don't be sorry, sugar.  We were on the verge of a real conversation there.  "I can show you to the door.  Or - or give you cab fare for a return trip to - to wherever you, ah - "

"I'd really rather stay here for the night."  His pants are still doing a good imitation of a pitched tent, so I know there's some interest there.  You know what?  Maybe this whole talking thing was a bad idea.  Since when did men and talking go together?  Time for some action.  That's my forte.  That's what I'm good at.  Lord knows this guy is about a thousand times smarter than high school dropout me.  Yeah, no more talking. 

"Oh!" 

"Sugar, I don't bite.  Trust me, I can make you feel very nice if you let me keep touching you here." 

"I - I - ah - oh!"  Yes, that's it.  No more talking.  If I take him out of those pants, I bet there'll be even less talking.  Belt, button, zipper - ah, hello.  Nice to meet you.  I didn't expect you to be covered in fur too, but you're quite nice.  "Mmmph!" 

"Hank, here's what I'd like to do.  I'm going to make you come this way first."  I don't usually do hand jobs and there's not much demand for them - most men prefer blow jobs.  But he's not going to last too long as it is.  "And then we'll talk some more and I'll take off my clothes.  You can touch me anywhere you want.  Don't worry about the skin, I've got it under control.  You can touch me and then we'll do some more things together.  You let me know what you like."

"Unnnhhh!  Oh!"  That's it.  A little harder, a little faster, and I bet he'll - "Aaaah!"  There we go.  Whoa.  Lots of semen coming out there.  Wonder how long since he last masturbated.  "Oh, my........"

"That was nice, sugar."  And look at how he's looking at me - so uncertain, so nervous.  He probably wants to give me a hundred reasons why he shouldn't but his body is screaming out that he needs to.  Thirty years without sex - that's long enough.  "I'm just going to get undressed now.  We won't be interrupted down here, will we?"

"N-no."  Good.  That's better.  He's not arguing. 

"Great.  You can help undress me if you like.  You let me know if you'd like me to go slower.  This is your present, sugar, me, so you just let me know." 

"I......"

"If you want to touch me or touch yourself, you just go ahead."  Because little Hank - and I use that term loosely; there's not a lot that's little about this guy - is twitching a bit already.  

"You're - you're very beautiful."  I could swear he's blushing underneath that fur.  How sweet.  That's just - that's really actually sweet.  I don't think anyone's ever given me a genuine compliment, not like that. 

"Thank you, sugar.  Would you like to touch me?"  Maybe I could just get a little closer.  His eyes haven't left my breasts and it might be nice for him to take off my skirt and stockings.  He might like that.  There - he's going to.  He's going to touch me.  "Mmmm."  I'm sure he'd like some encouragement and it does feel nice.  He's being so gentle.  And looking up at me with those clear yellow eyes.  He looks almost afraid to be touching me.  "That feels nice."  Hey - wait a second - he just took his hand away like it was on fire.  What'd I do wrong?

"Sorry.  Sorry.  My apologies for - "

"For what, sugar?  Touching me?  Hey."  I'm just going to hold his hand a little. Maybe this is all a little too much, too fast for him.  "You have the gentlest hands. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"No."   Oh my, now he's looking all ashamed.  He really is a very sweet guy.  Maybe if I'd met someone like him when I ran away instead of - no, better not think about that.  Better just think about taking care of what's in front of me right now. 

"It's OK if you want to, Hank.  I know what you said about you not liking to support prostitution and this being all wrong, and sugar, I understand how you feel.  But sometimes - well, sometimes things aren't always so black and white."  This is kind of bold, but I think it'll work.  If I rest his hand on my breast, guide it, maybe it'll make him easier about touching me, make him see that I mean it, that it's OK.  "It feels very good to me when you touch me here.  I'd like for you to touch me here some more.  Doesn't it feel good to you, sugar?"

That moan and little squeeze is my answer.  Come on, Hank, come on, sugar.  Touch me. 

"Is this OK?"  Both hands on both breasts - that's definitely OK.  I know the rules, believe me, I do, and the first rule is never let yourself enjoy it.  But Hank - he's a little different.  He *is* unique.  And I think if he sees me enjoying it, that'll help him relax. 

"Yes.  I like that a lot, sugar.  Keep going."  I'm just going to leisurely start unzipping the skirt and let it fall while he's focused on my breasts.  I'm not wearing panties - never do - and he can decide if the thigh-high stockings stay or go. 

"Should - may I - should I kiss you?"  Oh God, that earnest tone just about breaks your heart.  And I know rule number two is no kissing, but -

"Yes, if you'd like to."  But I don't want him to think I'm afraid of the fangs or something.  That wouldn't be good. 

"I am not really sure how to best - "

"Let me show you."  Mmm.  Mmmm.  What soft lips.  No fur on them, and that's probably the only part of him without it.  Nice gentle kisses - God, I don't think I've ever had those.  That's a first for me.  I want to try with tongue.  "Mmmm........"  He tastes just like sugar.  I wonder if he was having something sweet - junk food, maybe?  "Mmmm......"  OK, OK, getting a little lost here.  Better pull back.  But nicely.  "That was very nice.  You're a natural kisser, sugar, don't let anyone ever tell you different."

"Thank you."  There's the invisible blushing again.  What kind of woman wouldn't love that? 

"Why don't we get you undressed, hmm?  And maybe head back toward the bed?" 

"Y-yes.  Yes.  OK."  There it is - he's decided now.  I won't get anymore stops and starts or arguments now.  Good for you, Hank.  "This way." 

"Nice bedroom."  A hell of a lot nicer than mine, sugar.  "Let's - how about if you sit down at the edge of the bed, sugar?"

"OK."  He doesn't know why I'm asking that.  That's just incredibly cute.  Incredibly sweet.  But I'd better warn him about what's coming, no pun intended.  I don't think me getting down on my knees in front of him is even fully clueing him in. 

"I'd like to use my mouth on you. Here."  Little Hank stood right at attention when I ran a finger along his length.  Heh.  Little Hank likes me, that's for sure.  "You can touch me while I'm doing it.  You can touch me wherever you like, OK?  Don't be shy.  Just enjoy this."  Just nodding.  He's on board with the plan but there's still a lot of nervousness in there.  Well, you know what?  I think I'll just -I'll just go down on him without a condom.  I mean, he'll feel more that way, what with the fur and all, and I won't mind too much if he comes in my mouth.  It wouldn't be the first time and hey, maybe he'll taste like sugar there too.  "You just relax and let me please you.  Don't worry about coming, sugar.  Whenever you're ready, just let go."  Another nervous nod.  Relax, sugar.  I'm going to make this real good for you. 

Kind of weird to feel something all fuzzy and furry in my mouth, but he does taste good here.  Not sugary, salty, but a good kind of salty.  "Unnnh....."  That's right, sugar, you enjoy it.  "Oh....."  I give a class A blow job and I'm going to spoil you for other women.  Maybe I can leave a little piece of me with him that way, you know, as a memory of a really good night.  I'd never get a guy like this in real life, but maybe I can stick with him in his memory as the nice girl who gave him his first sex.   That'll have to be good enough.  "Unnnh!"  Getting close now.  I definitely want to swallow him.  I just really have that urge.  It would be something special, something just for him.  "Aaaah!  Aaaah!"  Yes, that's it, sugar, let me take you deeper.  "OH!!"  Mmmm.  There we go.  Tasted good and it tasted like a lot.  I'll just give him a few more licks to be nice, to ease him away. 

"Like that, sugar?"

"Y-yes."  Aw.  He's stroking my hair, my face.  I said he could touch me anywhere and he's touching me there.  So sweet.  "Thank you." 

"You're welcome.  I liked it too."  He needs a rest, at least a little one, before we get to the main event.  Maybe I'll just lie down with him in the bed, encourage him to explore my body a little.  I mean, hey - half the fun of this for him is probably just looking over a real live naked woman.  "Why don't you relax a little while before we do more?  I'll just - I'll lay here beside you and you can touch me if you like."

"OK."  Or you could just lay beside me and look at me, like you're doing.  Whatever you'd like, sugar.  It's actually kind of nice to have someone look at my face for a change, but I'm sure you'd be more interested in things residing a little further south.  Ah.  There we go - hand on breast.  That's a good start and he did it on his own initiative.  That's promising.  "You have a very nice body." 

"I'm glad you like it." 

"I do.  If - if I should hurt you or touch you in a way you do not prefer, please let me know.  I shall - I shall heartily endeavor to do neither."  God, what kind of women has he been hanging out with?  Because I don't know a woman alive who wouldn't just melt at that. 

"I'm sure you'll make me feel good, sugar.  You have so far."   

"Really?"  Well, let me demonstrate that for you, sugar.  I'll just show you.  While I'm breaking rule number one, I might as well make good use of it. 

"Touch me here."  Here, between my legs, where it's all warm and slippery.  "You made me this way.  You made me feel good, Hank."  Oh.  Oh.  His face changed and hello - he's doing a little exploring down there. 

"I am - I have read books.  I am familiar with the female anatomy, ah, in theory.  But would you - could you show me how to touch a woman, ah, there?"  I get it - the look on his face, it's curiosity.  "I believe that this is your clitoris, yes?"

"Yes!"  Whoa.  Chalk up one for the virgin.  That felt all kinds of good.

"Did that hurt?  Was I too rough?" 

"Uh-uh."  Give me a minute.  I'm still recovering from that nice, firm stroke.  "Touch me just like that.  Rub - rub right there.  Oh, yes.  Oh, God, yes........."  So good.  So damn good.  I've only ever felt that good when I touched myself.  No man has ever - "Oh!"

"More?"

"Yes, more!  More, please!  Oh, Hank don't stop!"  Good God, it's good.  Sugar, don't stop.  In fact - "Hank, please - please, with your other hand, please - unh! - slide your finger inside me."  Maybe that was too rude, too salty because he looks a little dubious or unsure, but - there.  Oh.  My.  God.  "Two fingers.  In - in and out, Hank, please, sugar.  Oh....."  Holy fuck.  I swear to God, it's never been this good.  It's so good, so right.  "Unnnh!  D-don't stop!  God!  Hank!" And believe me, right now, they're one and the same.  I'm going to come, really come, at someone else's hands.  I'm going to come for Hank and it's going to be a doozy.  I can feel my belly getting tight and my legs tensing up and - "Aaaaah!!"  Hey, no, don't - "Don't stop!!!  Hank!!!"  There we go, it's - there!  "Aaaahhh!!!!  Hank!!!!"  Oh holy *God* that was amazing.  "Oh, Hank........"

"Are you all right?"

"Mmm-hmmm.  Oh, sugar......."  He has no idea how good that felt, how much pleasure he gave me.  "That was amazing." 

"I - I was not sure if I should continue when you - ah, when you appeared to - "

"I needed just a little bit more."  I really should try to catch my breath.  I'm being very non-hookery what with all this getting off.  "Usually I need you to be touching me until I'm completely over the edge."

"Ah.  I see.  My apologies for stopping so abruptly." 

"It's all right.  I don't think I've ever been that satisfied."  That caught his attention.  But he - he thinks I'm exaggerating or saying it just to make him feel good or something.  "I never come when I'm with a client, Hank.  You're - you're my first in that department."  He doesn't quite know what to say to that, and frankly, neither do I.  But I see that little Hank would like to get his two cents in.  Little Hank is ready to go again.  "Sugar, are you ready to be inside me?  I'm ready for you and now - now would be a good time."

"Yes."  Oh my God, he's going to - yes, he's kissing me.  He's giving me a nice, gentle kiss before he puts himself in.  "Thank you, Rogue.  Thank - thank you."  Sweet man.  It's so emotional for him and I - I guess it's getting emotional for me too because I just kissed him back.  "Shall we - shall I, ah, might you have a condom?"

"Sure."  But I kind of don't want him to use it.  I mean, I'm on the pill as a backup, because - well, because condoms aren't 100% effective and the last thing I need to do is drag a child into the total disaster that is my life.   And he's a virgin.  It's not like he's going to have any interesting social diseases and I know I don't thanks to Sabretooth's lingering healing factor.  Sabretooth - now that's a horrible thought.  Let's just move on.  "But you can be inside me bare if you want.  I'm on the pill, and I'm clean.  No, um, no disease or anything.  It might give you more sensation - it might be hard to feel with the fur and the condom." 

"Are you quite certain?"

"Quite."  Look at me - again with the kissing of him.  It's almost like I can't help myself.  "Do you want to be on top, or - "

"I may be too heavy.  I would not wish to, ah, squish you."  He said that so sincerely, I couldn't help a little giggle. 

"Sugar, you're fine.  However you'd like.  On top would be fine."  He really does have a cute little smile to go along with those cute ears.  "I'll guide you in.  Let me - there."  In reality, 'little' Hank is not at all little, and I needed to rub him up against me a little to get him lubricated.  God knows I've got enough going on in that department after the way he was touching me.  "There - there."  He's right at my entrance.  It's up to him.  "Whenever you're ready, sugar." 

"Let me know if I hurt you."

"You won't."  I already know that, sugar.  You're not the kind of guy who gets off on hurting me.  I know that, sugar.  Just go ahead.  "Mmmm."  Perfect.  God, he fits me just perfect. 

"Oh......"  What an incredible look of wonder on his face.  I hope this is good for him, really good.  I think it is - he's already thrusting pretty steadily.  Nature just takes over.  I haven't ever been with a virgin, but I could pretty much guess that instinct takes over and tells people what to do.  Hank's gong strong now.  I know he won't last long, but that's OK.  I've already had one hell of an orgasm.  You go on sugar, you go after your own now.  "Mmmmph!"

"Yes, just like that, just like that, Hank."

"Unnnh!"  Faster and less controlled now.  No, it won't be long.  "Aaaah!"  Just going to bring up my knees and let him go deeper.  Want to wrap those legs of mine around him, my arms too. 

"So good, sugar.  Go on, go harder, go faster." 

"Yes!"  My face - he's got one hand caressing my face, trying to hold my eyes while he's - "Rogue!  Unnh!"  I like that.  Oh, God, I really like that. 

"Come for me, Hank.  Come inside me.  Yes, sugar, yes."

"Unnnnnhhhh!!!!"  That's it, that's it.  More sugar, give me more.  "Aaahhh!!"  Never felt so good, yes Hank more, the last of it, come on, sugar.  "Umph."  There.  There.  Yes.  "Oh. Oh, Rogue....."

"So good, sugar."  Rolling off of me right away - I bet he's concerned about crushing me, but he was OK, he wasn't too heavy.  And - oh my God, how sweet - he's rolling me with him.  He wants to hold me.  You know, ordinarily I wouldn't, not at all, but - but I want to now.  I just want to.  I never get held, never, and I bet he doesn't either.  I'll hold him back. 

"Thank you.  That was - I do not think I have words.  I - I - thank you."

"You're welcome, Hank.  I liked it a lot too."  Mmmm.  So comfortable.  Safe, warm, almost loved.  Holding him like this, it's easy to fool myself into thinking that I'm in bed with a lover, not a john.  You know what?  That's because he *was* a lover to me, not just someone using me.  He was good to me, really good.  I didn't think that was possible, not being who and what I am, not being the person I am on top of all that.  But he was - he was good to me. "Give me - give me a minute and we'll do some more things.  I just need a minute......."  Can't fall asleep.  I really can't.  I shouldn't.  But he's so comfy and so warm.  I really shouldn't sleep...........







Mmmm.  Too much light.  Too much light for six a.m.  Wait - wait.  It is not six.  The clock reads ten fifteen.  Did I forget to set the alarm or - oh!  Oh, dear, Rogue!  Where did she go?  Oh dear, I hope she - oh, all right.  She must be in the bathroom.  I hear some noises and the door is closed.  Whew.  How fortunate that she has not already gone.  I would like to speak with her before she goes, definitely.  And I suppose that it would behoove me to do so clothed, so perhaps I should take advantage of her bathroom sojourn to find some boxers.  There. Much better.  Now I shall -

"Hello, sugar."

"Good morning."  You know, she actually looks much more beautiful without all that makeup.  And definitely much younger with her hair up.  "How are you?"

"I'm good.  How about you?"

"Very well, thank you.  Rogue, I am glad you are up.  I wanted to speak with you about something before you left."

"I wanted to talk to you too, sugar."  Ah - I do not understand.  She is taking money out of her small purse.  It is not usually the, ah, lady that pays the gentlemen in these situations and I don't know what she could possibly - "I want you to have this.  It's the money Bobby gave me.  Get yourself a nice birthday present." 

Oh dear.  I was right, she is a most kind person.  But regardless of her kind and generous streak, I cannot take the money.  After all, she looks far too thin and I noted that her skirt was held together with a safety pin.  No, I could not possibly take the money.  "I had a most marvelous birthday present in you. Please, you should keep the money."

"I don't want it."  She looks so sad, and I - yes, I believe she might be about to cry.  "Last night was - it was a little different.  You gave as much to me as I did to you.  It wouldn't be fair to take the money and I don't want - I just don't want to be paid for last night, all right?"  Tears, lots of them.  Oh, please do not cry.  I must comfort her.  Perhaps a hug.  A nice, friendly hug.  Preferably with no erection - do you hear that, nether parts? 

"I - I do not know quite what to say.  I do not want to take the money from you, Rogue.  Actually, I - I had been thinking last night, I'd been thinking quite a bit and I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of you staying here, at the mansion.  You are a mutant and - "

"And I'm not interested in attending mutie school or being in a zoo."  Dear, she is crying in earnest now.  "It's just not for me, Hank.  But I appreciate it, I do.  I'm trying, you know, to get out of this life, I just - I need a little more time."

"I understand."  Of course I cannot force anything upon her, but I feel I must try harder to get her to stay.  Holding her in my arms last night, watching her sleep - she looked so like an angel, a beautiful, innocent angel, and I cannot stomach the thought of her living the life she does.  It appears to have touched her, stained her so little, but no one should have to sell themselves to survive.  No one.  "But it is not all like that - you would not be required to attend school and we, ah, try to make it very un-zoo-like here."  Whew.  That garnered the chuckle I was hoping for. 

"I'd have to do something if not school, Hank, and I don't want to be on the big secret crime-fighting team either."  Heavens!  How did she know about that?  "It's, uh, not really as big a secret as you think, at least among mutants."

"Indeed.  Well, I certainly understand you not wishing to place yourself in danger by serving on the team.  And you are correct that, ordinarily, those who stay here and are not in school must contribute in some fashion.  I - I was thinking that perhaps, though, if you were to stay here, with me, as my - my guest, you could take the time you need to figure out what you would like to do without - without the pressures inherent in your line of work."  I sincerely hope that came out right.  I do not mean to insult her.  She - she is looking up at me quite kindly.  I do not think she took it the wrong way. 

"That's sweet.  I - I already know what I want to do. I paint.  I'm an artist.  I just - I just need to sell a few things to, you know, have an income."

"That would be perfect.  You could paint and once you begin gaining commissions or selling your works regularly, you - you can decide what to do."

"Hank......."  She is not convinced, but she is not saying no either.  Ah - perhaps I know what is the cause of her hesitation. 

"Were you to stay as my guest, I assure you, you would be exactly that - my guest.  I would not expect, ah, your attentions of last night.  Not at all."  She's just looking up at me with those impossibly big brown eyes and soft lips and perfect little nose and - Hank, old boy, shake yourself out of it.  Helping.  You're helping this young girl, not hitting on her.  Of course, the return of my erection is not likely to convince her of that.  "Honestly.  Please - please ignore my bodily response.  It is simply your nearness and the remembered pleasures of last night.  I - my offer is sincere."  No, I do not think I have ever been more embarrassed.  Goodness gracious, you'd think I could control it a little better than this.  I am not a teenager, after all. 

"I liked last night, you know."  Drat - she has taken it all the wrong way.  It isn't that I do not like the way she is caressing my bare chest at the moment, but I do not want her to think there is some expectation of sex involved in the offer.  Yes, she would have to share my quarters, but I can easily obtain a bed of her own and whatever else she might require.  "I don't think I want to stay as your guest, Hank.  I don't think that would work.  I'm - I'm attracted to you and - well, I just don't think that would work, sugar.  It's very sweet of you to offer, though.  Thank you for that.  It actually - it means a lot to me that you'd try to help me like that, sugar."  More tears and was that her tucking the money into the waistband of my boxers?  It was, and now she's going, now she's leaving - drat!

"Rogue, please wait - please.  Is there any - are there any conditions under which you might consider staying?"

"Hank, sugar, you don't want to get all mixed up with a girl like me.  I mean, look at you.  You're sweet and gentle and kind and smart.  You're a doctor for goodness sakes.  You're going to have women crawling all over you.  You don't want to get all mixed up with someone like me.  I have a past and - well, you know what my present's like.  You don't want that, sugar, you want some nice, smart girl that'll give you lots of love and babies and all those good things.  Not someone who's been around the block as much as I have.  I - I'd better go, sugar, before I get any more emotional here.  Thank you - thank you for a lovely evening."

"Please."  I sincerely hope I did not startle or frighten her by grabbing her arm in that fashion, but, heavens, I really do not want to let her just walk out of my life.  I am not ignorant of the complications she is referencing, but I am willing to cope with them, especially if it means helping someone who has shown me so much kindness.  Especially if it means keeping her in my life.  "Please do not go.  Please at least let me - let me give you a ride back and perhaps we can discuss things a bit more on the way.  Please, Rogue?"  And I need to find a way to convince her to take the money back.  And stay here, with me.  And perhaps to look into art school for her if indeed she is serious about a career in painting.  And -

"I'm sorry, sugar.  I've got to go."  One last kiss and more tears. 

"Please stay."

"I'm sorry."  There she goes.  There she goes, out of my life. 





I have searched for her for the past three nights with no luck.  I doubt that anyone from the mansion even realizes I am out.  They probably assume that I am immersed in my studies, in the lab, not here, in a seedy part of the city, cruising around in the Professor's tinted-window SUV, looking for Rogue.  I do not know what her response will be if I do find her.  I must at least succeed in returning the money she left with me, I must at least do that.  I hope to talk with her more about the possibility of staying at the mansion.  I hope to convince her to stay with me. 

I think - yes, it's her.  It's her.  She's out tonight.  And she's standing by herself, down the block from the other girls.  Excellent.   I shall drive up, roll the passenger side window down, and approach her.  "Rogue?"

"Hank."  She looks happy to see me.  She is at least smiling.  That is good, that is promising.  "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."  Her expression softened at that.  Perhaps she wanted or hoped for me to come. Perhaps she had changed her mind about the money. "Can we - may I talk with you a moment?  Would you like to go for a drive with me?"

"That'd be nice."  Whew.  Whew.  She is getting in.  That went much more easily than I had anticipated.  "How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you."  I wonder why that made her smile so.  Not that I am complaining.  "I was doing some thinking after you left.  I still think that you should have the money from - "

"No, sugar.  No."  Hmph.  It is not the money - she seems fairly set on that.  Well, I shall circle back to it.  On to conversational point number two. 

"May I at least buy you dinner then?  Perhaps a drive-thru of some sort, though - my appearance tends to incite, ah, comment in public." 

"That would be really nice.  Thanks."  Whoo-hoo!  Dinner will provide me an excellent opportunity to address my other planned conversational topics.  "There's a McDonald's about three blocks west or a Wendy's about six blocks south."

"Which would you prefer?"

"You're buying, sugar."  There is a certain light in her eyes when she teases a bit. 

"Ah, yes, but they are equally appealing to me."

"Wendy's then - OK?" 

"Yes."  I have missed her warm, gentle smiles.  I have missed *her*.  "Thank you for the pleasure of your company this evening."  I debated whether to offer to compensate her for her time, but given her previous attitude toward being paid, I decided against it, favoring instead a dinner invitation.  She can certainly use a good meal, even if the best that I can offer her is drive-thru junk food.  

"I'm glad you found me tonight.  I'd been thinking about you."  Ah....that is a surprise.  But a welcome one.  "I was hoping to see you again."

"And I, you.  Very much so.  Rogue - I - I have been thinking of you often.  In fact, I have been searching for you each night since you left."  That has her attention.  "I, ah, grilled Bobby until he disclosed where he had found you.  I - I find myself missing your company.  And not just your, ah, sexual company."  The way she's looking at me now - perhaps I should just have out with it.  "I was hoping to discuss with you again the possibility of you staying with me at the mansion."

"Hank - "

"Please hear me out."  And let us hope that this long drive-thru line takes a while, long enough for me to get this all out.  "I have been thinking long and hard on your words.  I understand why you may not feel you fit into mansion life.  But - but I am significantly apart from mansion life.  I live much in my own world, down in the lab.  I rarely go on missions with the team and I - I am not very social with the others living there.  You would not be signing on to a life at the mansion, but rather, a life with me, in my lab."  Heaven knows why that would be an enticement to anyone, but my 'gut' is telling me that Rogue will receive that well.  Or at least better than life among the other mansion residents.  "My offer to reside there still stands."

"As your guest?"  The way she said that - she does not like that part of the offer.  Hmmm.  I would've thought her reassured by that.  Perhaps that was the wrong approach.  But - what is the correct approach?

"In whatever capacity you wish."  Now she is blushing.  I am really not following -

"Well, in my more wishful moments, it would be as your girlfriend.  But I know that's silly, naive.  I know that can't be."  Tears.  Oh my - oh my!  She wishes for a relationship, not charity.  Stupid, stupid, stupid Hank.  Stupid!

"It could be, if you wish.  I simply - my offer to stay as my guest was meant to ease any apprehensions or concerns you might have, to make clear that I did not would not demand or expect anything in exchange from you for the offer.  It was not meant to convey a lack of interest in you as more than a simple 'guest'.  I was - I was unsure what your feelings might be in that regard."  Still crying.  Why, oh why does my genius never kick in when I really require it?  "In my wishful moments, I would like it to be as my girlfriend as well.  You are so beautiful, so gentle, and you have showed me such kindness and affection, Rogue, that I could hardly wish otherwise.  But a - a relationship with someone of my extraordinary appearance is something much different than a single night of - of companionship.  I was not sure what your feelings might be on that issue." 

"Sugar, I'm a lot less worried about you than me.  Even if - even if I can change what I am, what I do, I can't ever change my past."

"Nor would I wish you to.  I would not have had the pleasure and delight of making your acquaintance otherwise, and I would not change that for anything."  I just have to touch her, and oh heavens, how I'd like to hold her and wipe away all those tears.  I shall - I shall hold her hand.  Yes, that's it. 

"You're a little too good to be true, sugar."  But I believe she is deciding, she is considering it at least. And she is squeezing my hand.  

"I assure you my offer, and my feelings, are genuine."

"I can see that, sugar, I can see that."

*Crackle* "Welcome to Wendy's.  May I take your order?"

"Ah, yes, a moment please."  I had forgotten all about the food.  "What would you like?"

"Taco salad, a - a potato and some chili.  Oh, and a frosty too - is that OK?"

"Completely.  Ah, yes, then.  We shall have a taco salad, a baked potato, a large chili and a large frosty.  And a -a number seven combo meal with a coke."

"Would you like to biggie size that?"

"Certainly." 

"Eleven forty, please drive thru." 

"Thanks, Hank."  You are welcome, my angel.  Please let me give you more than this, so much more than a simple dinner.  "For everything.  I - I think maybe I'd like to try that, to stay with you for a while.  We can - well, we can just see how it goes, OK?"

"Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Thank you, thank you, Rogue.  Yes."  Whoo-hoo!  Whoo-hoo!  She is coming home with me.  She's coming home with me. 











"This is all your fault, Bobby." 

Hey!  It is so *not* my fault.  "How was I supposed to know he'd get attached to her, that he'd invite her to move in with him?"

"What were you thinking in the first place?  Getting him a hooker as a birthday present - really, Bobby." 

"Lighten up, Scott."  It's not that he doesn't have a point.  But, hey, it's not like she's going to turn the mansion into Hookers 'R' Us just by living here.  "She seemed kind of nice.  And not, you know messed up.  Not a druggie or anything.  Hank likes her.  What's the crisis?"

"Has it occurred to you that she's just using him, that she's probably going to just break his heart?"

"Using him for what?  I mean, she totally gave the money I paid her to Hank.  She wouldn't take it, still won't."  Aha - fearless leader man didn't know that little tidbit of info.  I wonder why Hank didn't throw it in his face?  That's a damn good point, if I do say so myself.  "Look, Scott - they seem to fit together OK.  I know it's weird - but if Hank's happy, then so what?  It's sure as hell not the only weird thing under this roof."

"I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"Everybody takes a chance on that, Scott."  And I know he relates given the meltdown of his engagement to Jean.  But really, it's better that he found out before the marriage than after that she was doing Remy.  "Let Hank have a chance at happiness.  If it doesn't work out, well, we'll be here for him."  As long as our fearless leader doesn't constantly poo-poo it, constantly ride Hank over it, I'll be happy.  I mean, I don't think Hank is shooting for everyone to do backsprings over Rogue moving in.  I think he just kinda wants to be left alone about it. 

"Fine.  But if she winds up ruining his life........."

"It's on my head.  I know, I know.  Come on, let's go get a beer, OK?"  That way you can cry on my shoulder about Jean some more.  Sheesh.  We've got to find him another woman.  I wonder if Rogue has any friends?







"Hank?  Sugar?"

"Sorry.  Sorry.  I, uh, that was amazing."  Whew.  For a second there, I thought he actually passed out.  I know I'm good, but, honestly, I don't want to be *that* good.  "Please, let me hold you."

"Love to."  He's been so unbelievably sweet, you know?  I even heard him mumbling something in his sleep last night about me being an angel.  He's really gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable here, to make me feel - well, not like a hooker, like a girlfriend.  Like a really loved, special, cherished girlfriend.  He's the amazing one. 

"Give me a moment to recover and I shall return the favor." 

"Mmmm.  Take your time.  I'm still pretty happy from round one."  He's a natural at the sex stuff.  And he's always asking what I like, always looking for my favorites.  "You know, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me in my whole life, sugar.  I'm so glad that I got to be your birthday present." 

"May I ask you something?"  Whoa - his heartbeat really picked up at that.  Maybe that was too much, too mushy or something. 

"Sure."

"Would you mind very much if I were to ask you your name, your real name?"

"Of course not, sugar.  It's Marie."  I wonder why he -

"You are the best thing in my life as well, Marie.  My heart has been at peace since I met you."  Those yellow eyes look so full of emotion.  He's looking at me like I'm the only thing in the world.  "I used to dream about having someone in my life like you, someone who made me feel cared for and - and normal."  Oh, sugar............  "You have given me that, Marie." Now he's getting embarrassed, suddenly shy.  "Marie is a lovely name, you know.  Simple, but elegant.  And there have been many famous Maries - Marie Curie, for one.  Yes, she was a brilliant scientist, she - "

"Hank is a pretty nice name too."  He doesn't have to be nervous or shy.  I liked hearing that.  "Is there anything else you'd like to ask me, sugar?"  I really should've thought to tell him my name before.  There's got to be other questions on his mind. 

"May I ask how long you had been, ah, how long you'd been - "

I would've guessed that he'd want to know that.  "Since I was fifteen.  My powers manifested and I ran away from home at fourteen.  I tangled with some people who were - well, they were bad people, let's just leave it at that."  I like that he holds me a little bit tighter at that.  "The truth is that I had to do some pretty awful things to get away from them.  I touched them both, used my skin on them, and one of them had a similar mutation to mine.  That's how I learned to control it, to turn my skin off when I wanted.  I moved to the city, and at that age, I couldn't get a real job, couldn't rent a decent place to live, so I started hooking.  I didn't want to go into the foster care system or an orphanage because, well, because at least as a hooker I'd get paid for sex and I'd get to pick who.  You never know what kind of people you'd wind up with if you go into foster care or something.  So I started hooking, managed to avoid all the jerks who wanted to be my pimp, and I started painting.  I really wanted to do that, to try to be an artist, to work on my skills so that maybe one day I could have that as a career instead.  I swore to myself that I'd only hook for a little while, and that I'd stop as soon as I sold a painting, or as soon as I turned eighteen.  On my eighteenth birthday I started making plans to quit, but I hadn't - I hadn't found anything that was any better than what I was doing yet. And then I met you." 

"I promise you, Marie, you shall never have to do that again.  No - no matter what, I shall make sure you shall never have to do that again."

"Oh, sugar, I know you'd always try to help me."  I really do get that.  I mean, even after just a few days of living together, I can tell he'd do that. "You're very good to me."

"You have been very good to me.  May I ask another question?  When you - when you first saw me, when I answered the door, what did you think?"

Ah, another question I should've expected.  I understand why he worries about how he looks, I do.  He's so different from everyone else.  But different isn't necessarily bad.  "I actually saw you for the first time when Bobby picked me up.  He had a picture of you."

"And you took the job?"

"Of course I did, sugar.  Bobby described you as very nice, very sweet.  I didn't get the chance to meet many people who fit that description in my former line of work.  Bobby said you were unique and you sure are, sugar, but I like everything about you.  Your fur makes you soft but your muscles make you strong.  I have a serious thing for your ears."  And maybe I'll just touch them a bit and show you.  "And you're always so warm - I like that a lot too." 

"You are very kind."  No, sugar, I'm falling in love with you. 

"What did you think of me?"

"What?"

"When you first saw me, what did you think of me?"  He only ever says that I'm beautiful and then there's the angel mumblings, but I'd be curious to know what he really did think when he first saw me.  He probably thought pretty much what everyone else thinks - hooker. 

"I remember thinking at first that it must be some joke, some prank, that a woman as obviously lovely and nice as yourself would agree to, ah, be with me intimately.  I remember thinking that your white streaks made you look wonderfully exotic.  I remember thinking, after I realized that you were indeed quite serious, that the men who are fortunate enough to be with you must never tire of looking at your face.  You have such lovely eyes, such lovely lips.  Very soft when you kissed me.  I remember thinking that you were probably the most beautiful woman I would ever see up close and certainly the most beautiful woman I should ever see unclothed.  I remember thinking that it was a privilege that I should cherish and remember, to be with you."

"You didn't think I was - I don't know - dirty or used or - "

"Don't."  Listen to that heartbreaking whisper.  "Don't think of yourself that way.  I don't." 

"Good."  Maybe we really were meant to be together.  Maybe we're the only people who see each other like that - an angel and a handsome hero instead of a hooker and a beast.  "Enough talking, sugar.  You said something about returning the favor?"

"Yes."  But he'll kiss me and hold me a little first.  I know him.  And I like everything I know about him so far.  Everything. 







"All I'm saying is that I've been Hank's friend for most of his life and I don't want to see him hurt."  I hear you, sugar.  That's all you've been saying for the past half hour, ever since you cornered me in the kitchen and decided to lecture me.  "It's not that I have a problem with you, ah, personally, it isn't."

"Mmm-hmm.  Could you pass me the cream, please, Scott?  I think I'll have more coffee."  Because lord knows I'm going to need it if you keep talking. 

"Oh. Ah. Sure."  He says that like he didn't know hookers might take cream in their coffee.  Heh.  Poor guy.  I'm kind of upsetting his world here, I realize that.  "Like I was saying, it's not that I have anything against you personally, you understand - "

"Oh, no of course not."  Yes, the sarcasm literally dripped from every word of that.

"Look."  Oh my, I do believe he's getting serious here.  "You can't blame me for being a little skeptical.  Look at what you're getting out of this deal - a roof over your head, food to eat, everything taken care of.  And all you have to do in return is - well, what you have been doing, only with one person instead of lots."  Ouch.  I wasn't going to let pretty visor-boy get to me, but that hurt.  "What's Hank get out of the deal?"

"You know what?  You're right.  I made a few mistakes, so I can never do any better with my life than to be a cheap whore."

"Rogue, I didn't mean - "

"No, no, don't take it back.  I'm just whoring myself out to Hank instead of whoever wanders by my corner.  That's what you think, isn't it? That's sure what you said, sugar."

"Well?  Are you?" 

You know, that's about enough of this.  "The difference between being a whore and a girlfriend, sugar, is in how your man treats you and how you treat your man.  I've met plenty of women who acted like the former even when they were the latter.  If I had to take a guess, I'd say that something with two x chromosomes pissed you off pretty good and now you think every girl you pass by is out to screw their man over. Now, Hank, he treated me like a girlfriend even when I was a whore, and I never could think of him as anything but a lover, not a john.  Sugar, not everybody's relationship works the same as yours did."

Oooh - harsh stare.  You almost look like a badass.  "Did Bobby say something to you about Jean?"

"Jean?  The red-head?"  Well, if it was her who screwed him over, I can see why he's pissed.  She seems like the stealthy kind, probably didn't break up with him before finding someone else.  Hmm.  "No, sugar, Bobby didn't say anything.  Being in my former line of work, you learn to read people pretty good, and you're wearing it like a neon sign.  You're pissed enough at my gender in general to do a little mouthing off, to put me in my place some, but not enough to try to beat me or something a little rougher.  That's right about where I'd peg you."

"I - I would never!  How dare you even consider that - that I would - "

"Because I've had to.  I've lived a lot of years in a world where I had to consider it."  Maybe that'll be a little reality check for him.  Not everybody grows up in a mansion, sugar. 

"And you expect me to believe you haven't pegged Hank too?  You expect me to believe that you're not playing on his niceness, on his loneliness?"

"Oh, sugar, I couldn't play Hank if I tried.  One look into those yellow eyes, and I'd come all apart at the seams.  He's got me wrapped around his little finger, sugar."

"I'm sure that's what you'd like us all to think."

"Frankly, I don't give a damn what you think, sugar.  You had it all figured out the second you knew what I used to do for a living.  Nothing I could say or do now is going to change your mind.  Pretty much like those people who make up their minds about you as soon as they see that visor."  Whoa -don't tell me some of that got through.  Don't tell me that actually registered.  Maybe I didn't give you enough credit, sugar.  I'm not going to let him off that easy, though.  I'm not going to go all mushy now, oh no.  He's been an asshole extraordinaire.  "I'm going to take my coffee downstairs if you don't mind.  Wouldn't want to get any of my 'whore cooties' on you." 

No wonder Hank stays in the basement. 








"Will she be OK?"

"I do not know, Robert." 

You know, life sucks.  It really just bites.  If Rogue dies, poor Hank - I don't think he'll ever get over it.  And I know for *sure* the guilt won't ever stop.  When that FOH idiot shot him, she rushed right over, running even though they were all shooting at her too.  Hank said she did something with her skin, used it to push out her healing powers into Hank.  Saved his life.  But now she's all unconscious and Hank says there's too much brain activity.  And nobody - not Hank, not Jean, not the Professor - knows what to do to help her.  We've really got to beef up mansion security.  They shouldn't have been able to get on the grounds, much less blow up the front door. 

"Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you.  I would - I would like to be alone with her."  If I know him, he won't leave her side until she wakes up.  Or until - well, no, I don't want to think about that.  She's got to get better, she's just got to. 

"Sure, Hank.  I'll be upstairs if you need me." 






I feel like the world's biggest asshole.  The way Jean acted in the fight, the way she was so worried about Remy - I guess she actually does care for him.  Maybe she even loves him.  Him, not me.  I was so sure it was all just some fling, some meaningless affair, something she did just to hurt me.  Well, Scotty, as you've been told more than once the whole world doesn't revolve around you.  I guess it's actually true. 

And then there's Rogue.  She wasn't even supposed to be in the fight, she was supposed to be hiding in the basement.  But I'm glad she wasn't.  That bullet hit Hank square in the chest, nicked his heart, Jean said.  If Rogue hadn't used her powers to heal him, we'd have lost him.  And I'd have lost one of my closest friends before I could make amends with him, before I could apologize for my attitude about Rogue.  Great, Scott, you're doing just great.  Alienating friends, carrying around tons of anger - oh, yeah, that's a great way to go through life.  Well, everything will change now.  I'll be more supportive of Hank and I'll - well, I'll just try to be in a better mood instead of cranky all the time.  I'll try.  And I'll start by bringing down some food for Hank. 





Oooh.  Bright light.  Ouchy.  "Marie?  Marie, can you hear me?"  Loud voice.  Also ouchy.  "Marie?"  Maybe if I answer the voice, it will stop talking.

"Mmmm."  There.  Now silence.  And less light. 

"Marie, darling, please open your eyes."  Well, at least that voice was softer.  But eye-opening - it's out of the question what with all this light.  Even squinting is ouchy.  "Marie, please."  Hey - I know that voice.  I know that voice.  It's Hank.  "Oh, Marie."  It's a sad Hank.  Just what's going on here?

"H-Hank?"

"Right here, my love."  OK.  I'm going to open one eye.  Slightly.  "There you are.  How are you feeling?"

"Mph."  Not exactly what I wanted to say or very articulate, but it does just about sum everything up. 

"Headache?" 

"Mmm-hmm."  An evil headache.  The mother of all headaches.  The - oh!  Hank!  They shot Hank!  I remember now - I remember how I got the headache!  "Hank - are you OK?"

"Just fine.  Just fine, my love."  Whew.  Oh, double whew.  I'm so glad that worked, sugar.  I had no idea if it would or not, but - whew.  It did.  "You saved my life."

"Oh, thank God."  I hope somebody killed that little jerk who shot at my man.  If not, that's going to be first on my list.  Just as soon as I can, you know, think clearly and sit upright. 

"Are you feeling any pain aside from the headache?" 

"I'm just kind of achy all over."  But I think I'm OK.  Just drained or tapped or something.

"Marie - "  Oh-oh.  That's Hank's serious voice.  "You suffered some injuries as a result of reversing the flow of your mutation.  You - you - there was bleeding from the nose and ears and your brain wave patterns were highly abnormal for over 32 hours.  The lasting effects of -of the injuries is not known.  We must be careful.  I want to monitor you, to observe you for at least another 24 hours.  I am so sorry, Marie."

"For what, sugar?"

"For - for not being of more assistance to you in your hour of need.  For getting injured in such a way that you felt compelled to assist me.  For - for bringing you here in the first place.  It is not a safe place for you, Marie."  This right here - this is why I love him.  He really means all that.  He's all worried about me, and with those slumping shoulders and big frown I just want to hug him and kiss him and take all that worry away.  My head is all swimmy and moving is definitely not a good idea, but a hug is in order.  "Oh - oh, my.  Perhaps you should not -"

"Come here, sugar."  There.  Better.  Everything's always better when I'm glued to Hank's side.  "You don't have anything to be sorry for, OK?  Not a thing."

"I could not bear to lose you."  Oh-oh.  Tears.  Oh, I bet those have been held in a long time.  I bet he's been all business, watching over me, trying to help me, worrying.  It's OK, sugar, you just let it out. 

"I couldn't stand to lose you either, sugar.  No way."

"Please, Marie - "  Pushing be away a little to look at me, and he looks so wild, so desperate.  "Please promise me that you shall never attempt that again."

"No can do, Hank.  I'd do it again a hundred times if it meant saving your life, sugar."

"Marie - "

"Shh."  Enough of this.  I'm alive, he's alive, and we're both going to be OK.  It's all good.  "Just hold me a little while, OK?  That'll make me feel a lot better."  And him too, I bet.  Oh, thank goodness for that healing power - the one good thing out of getting mauled by Sabretooth and having to deal with him in my head.  Finally, something good out of all that.  Whew.  Double whew. 







"I'm trying to apologize to you."  And you're really not making it easy, are you?

"No, sugar, you're trying to ease your guilty conscience.  You're trying to make it up to Hank for always complaining about me to him." 

"No."  I'm trying to be nice to you, despite your bad attitude, white-trash manners, and grating southern accent.  I swear, if she calls 'sugar' one more time "I'm trying to say thank you for saving my friend's life and to admit that maybe I was wrong about your intentions toward him."

"Maybe?  You think?  Or do you think that me saving Hank's life was all part of some big evil plan?  Oh come on, spill it, sugar, I know you do." 

"You're not making this easy, you know."  Understatement of the year. 

"Am I supposed to be?  I know the rest of the mansion tends to bend over backwards to make life convenient for you, and you're probably used to that.  Well, I'm sorry, sugar, but I'm the kind of girl who holds a grudge.  Not pretty, but that's just the way I am.  And you know what?  It's saved me a lot of trouble on occasion.   Now, you're Hank's friend, and I know he likes you a lot.  Out of respect for that - which, by the way is much more courtesy than you've shown - I'll be just as nice to you as I can be.  But I'm not going to kiss and make up with you, sugar.  I know what you think of me, deep down, and I could probably save Hank's life a thousand times and that wouldn't change."

"Is everything all right in here?"  Oh great - Hank.  He's been in super-overprotective mode ever since Rogue got hurt.  And I told him I wanted to apologize to her, not start another fight, yet here we are, arguing with one another. 

"Just fine, sugar.  Scott and I were just talking."

"Yes."  One last try to get something actually accomplished here.  "I was just apologizing to Rogue for my arguments with her in the past and for my interference in your relationship."

"I appreciate that, Scott."  Well - what do you know?   That was actually polite of her.  I bet it was only for Hank's benefit, though.  She must've meant what she said about being nice to me for his sake, and I guess I can try to do the same.   

"Yes. Well, thanks for your time, Rogue.  I'll see you later."  Or not, Rogue.  You, I think I'll just avoid.  She's right - we'll never get along.  The best I can do is to stop needling Hank about her and to just leave her alone.  That, and to just focus on my own life.  I've got plenty going on there without interfering in Hank's. 





"I hope Scott was not too uncivil."  He has spoken to me at length and often about his objections to Marie, despite my clear indication that I am committed to this relationship.  I can only hope that he has not stressed or tired her too greatly this evening.  He did promise me that he would be apologizing, not insulting her.  I shall have to speak with him again, I see. 

"He was fine.  He - he really does care for you, sugar.  It just comes out badly around me." 

"You are not the problem.  It is Scott who has the problem."  Just a small, apologetic smile at that.  "Marie?"

"I think he's right sometimes, sugar.  You know - you know how I feel about you.  You know I love you."  Ah, I never tire of hearing her say those particular words.  "But you do deserve someone with a less checkered past than mine.  I'm just sorry I can't give you that, sorry I couldn't have avoided being on the street and everything that went with it."

"But I am not sorry, or ashamed of your past.  No - that is not quite correct."  Oh dear - that was hurt in her expression.  I must rectify that - quickly.  "I mean to say - I am sorry that you had to do some of the things you did to survive.  I am sorry that you found yourself in that situation.  I would never wish for you to - to have to sell yourself.  You are far too precious a gift for that.  But I am proud of you for surviving, for being a marvelously kind and generous and warm person despite what you have been though.  I am proud, not ashamed.  And I cannot possibly be sorry for your past - your path in life brought you to my door, and for that I can only be tremendously, unfathomably grateful.  So grateful, Marie."  Oh-oh.  Perhaps that did not come out quite right because she appears on the verge of tears.  Accursed expression - why does refinement and articulation insist on deserting me when I most - oh.  I see.  Not sad tears, at least not judging by the most wonderful kiss that she is favoring me with now. 

"You're one of a kind, do you know that, sugar?"

"Yes."  That, I have always known.  That, I could hardly have missed.  But I believe I do know the way in which she means it now.  "As are you.  Come, let us relax together, hmm?"  A nice, quiet evening will do us some good.  A nice, quiet evening with no interruptions from Scott, FOH combatants, or the world in general.  A nice, quiet evening with just Marie and myself, doing nothing but doing it together.  Just like any other couple. 






Look at those two - curled up, all asleep on the couch.  Hank was watching some god-awful, boring PBS special on neuroscience and Rogue sat with him through the whole thing.  I'm not surprised they fell asleep, actually.  They're still both recovering from everything that happened during the attack. 

You know, I know what Scott says and what the Professor thinks and how Jean looks at Rogue sometimes - like she's wearing some scarlet letter.  But anyone looking at them now couldn't doubt that they were made for each other.  Yeah, I did a good thing, picking her up, bringing her into Hank's life.  I've never seen him happier and Rogue - she's off the street, trying her hand at her paintings, living a good life.  If they're happy with each other, what could be wrong with that?  Sure, it's not the nice, geeky research scientist chick we all pictured Hank winding up with, but even if their brains don't match, their hearts do.  That's good enough for me, anyway

 
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