A series by November

Chapter 24: Sparring

Rogue found that she liked teaching, and teaching martial arts in general. The sheer physicality made it a nice outlet from, and counterpoint to, her studies. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she could wear a tight tee shirt and Logan’s eyes would follow her everywhere. Or as much as possible without becoming a horrible ogling example for the class.

It was her fifth and final class before Scott was coming back and the kids knew it. They relentlessly pushed them to spar, using logic, and, despite Logan’s admonitions, whining. Rogue called him aside.

"Look, I’ve got no problems doing this if you don’t," she said.

He knew it was inevitable. He had been hoping a natural disaster, mission, or bomb threat would keep it from happening, but he knew it was best to get it out of the way.

"All right."

"Maybe we should use the danger room so we can record it."

"I don’t think that’s a good idea."

Sensing his discomfort, she didn’t push it. After putting the kids through their paces they faced off. The cheering was so loud that Scott poked his head in. Roughly half were rooting for Logan, the other half for Rogue. They circled each other. Rogue met his eyes and grinned.

2-28-03
Oh my god. That girl’s gonna kill me.

The little brats pushed and pushed and pushed. There was no way we could NOT spar and I knew it. I have known it. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

She’s good. So goddamn good. And I lost to her, because I was distracted as could be. Her scent, the sound of her breathing, harsh breaths when she kicked.

The problem is not that I lost to her. It was a fair fight, I kicked ass, so did she. I let the class and her see that I had no issue with losing to a woman. It’s important to me to know that she knows I respect her. And really, it was an honor. I was so proud of her.

The problem is that I am all over the place emotionally, out of control. She’s grown up so right and strong and beautiful it stupefies me, and I’m not big on being stupefied.

Only good thing is that slowly she’s trusting. She will at least talk to me. It’s steady progress but too goddamn slow for my taste. I want her. Bad.

Rogue sank into the hot bath, knowing her muscles would ache the next day if she didn't. The suds closed in around her neck and she sighed.

Fighting Logan was a lot like sex. There was a lot of eye contact, a lot of physical interplay. A lot of playlike feinting and trickery. A lot was clear in his eyes that the students would never clearly identify. She had seen her own lust mirrored there.

I could go to him, she thought, just get up and walk down to his room and have him. She imagined standing. Imagined the tired weight of her body, wet with bathwater, rising to go to him.

She thought of the last time she'd waited outside of Cerebro. She had been sixteen. She felt so small. She'd hated herself for needing him so much.

She closed her eyes and sank into the water.