I don't own anything you recognize, but I did want to play in the X-Men universe. I love sassy-sultry comic book Rogue and think she needs to dominate more fanfiction so I mashed her with Evo and the new movies. And Wolverine…well, have you seen his shoulders? And he has a great backstory.

And why does the formatting always mess up in the doc manager now? Let me keep my paragraph indents darn it!

Rogue made her way down to the hangar. She had heard the Blackbird approaching and she wanted to be there to check on her friends. She didn't go on many missions. The X-men made it very clear that their missions were never full force, by virtue of her mutation she was more a liability (and moral encumbrance) than an asset.

The few times she inquired they made it very clear she wasn't welcome; even bringing up some close calls at the mansion, and the few stories from her past that they did know. It was as if they wanted her close, under their watchful eye, but didn't want her participating in missions or associated with their public face.

This behaviour made her keep secret her hard earned ability to control her skin; they didn't need to know anything more about her.

But she did have friends in Beast and Nightcrawler, so she wanted to see that they made it back alright.

Even those two weren't very physically affectionate though, so it was with some shock that Rogue opened the door to the hangar and rolled with the impact of weight against her legs. A few people on the team gasped, but Rogue just blinked down at the two children clutching her knees.

"A li'l young tah be recruits, aren't they?" she drawled.

The girl kept up a steady stream of whimpers, trying to wrap as much of herself around Rogue as boy let out a constant low keening, his claws digging into her jeans as if to anchor himself to her. Both of them smelled like chemicals and metal and terror—smelled like a lab. But they were wearing newer clothes and didn't smell like starvation.

Rogue brought her hands down to the back of their heads; Jean took a quick step forward while reaching out to stop her. Rogue sent her a glare, cupping the pup's head and scratching at his nape while her other hand combed through the kit's messy hair. The boy's whine changed to rumbles.

"Where d'ya'll fahnd these two?"

"Our recruitment mission turned into a rescue—these two were found in the Wolverine's camper."

Rogue looked sharply to Xavier—"Wolverine? Yeh separated a feral from 'is pups?!"

Xavier frowned at her—"There are no telepathic markers that these two children are related to the feral."

"Ferals claim pack. It 'as nothin' tuh do with blood." Rogue huffed. Herein lay the problem with telepaths: if they couldn't read it in your mind they didn't believe it. And ferals were notoriously difficult to read—something about instincts overriding conscious thought. Rogue herself was in a similar boat, her mind like a loud carnival crowd rather than one voice to focus on. "Where d'ya put the Alpha?"

"He's unconscious from his injuries-he'll be going to the lab."

"We were just going to take the kids down there and give them a check up too. And they can see for themselves that the Wolverine is fine. It was a struggle to manage them on the flight back."

The girl's whimpers became louder, and the boy's keening started again—his little claws scratched into the back of her jeans as if that would keep him away from the lab they talked about.

Rogue's expression became stormy, and she pushed the cubs away briefly (they whined and protested) so she could have the space to crouch and scoop them up. Scott choked and stepped forward, but Rogue glared at him as the pups nuzzled into her scarf and clutched at her jacket. Each arm full of cub and the Boy Scout still quailed at her glare.
Jean gripped her fiancée's arm tightly, staring at Rogue with a pale expression.

But the cubs liked her scent, calmed in her arms, so she pushed: "Ah'll take them to mah room tonight, Ah'm not gunna let yah put 'em in the lab. An' yah should get the Alpha out of the lab too—he don't need to wake up there."

"The kids need to be looked at," Jean insisted, though she didn't step forward from behind Scott.

"Ah'll bring Cookie Monster," Rogue drawled out, Beast blinked and then smiled. Then she cut sharp eyes to Xavier—"And Ah'm serious, don' put the feral in the lab, he won' react well."

"I'll consider your advice," Xavier placated.

Rogue narrowed her eyes but turned to leave the room, Hank knuckling behind her. Rogue made her way back through the door she'd just opened, up the hall she'd just walked down, up the elevator she'd just rode down, and up the stairs she'd just come down, to get to the room she'd just left.

If the cubs liked her scent so much this was the best place for them.

Hank followed her in; quietly closing the door as Rogue carefully seated herself on the edge of her bed. Hank was some weird blue version of a feral himself, though with a mild instinct, so Rogue trusted him to know what she was thinking.

Trusted him also to not mention what she suspected he guessed—that she kept mutations after the initial contact and slowly grafted the gifts to her DNA. Maybe he even noticed that she had more feral in her than him...but he never said anything.

"Can ya do this with minimal touchin'?"

Beast sniffed deeply, stretching his neck forward from where he stood a few feet away. "Neither smell like blood or pain; given that the fight was nowhere near the camper I can safely assume they have no pressing injuries. Though there is this strange scent to them—it makes my fur stand on end."

Rogue tucked her chin down over the boy's hair, rubbing against the soft strands. "That's a lab, can't mistake that smell."

"Rescues?"

"Looks like it, but the feral was feeding them up good. He hasn't had them long though…"

Beast made a humming noise and took a careful step closer, watching the pups intently. The boy's lip started lifting in a trembling snarl even as he pressed himself tighter into Rogue, the girl just whimpered. He stopped where he was. "Perhaps once their alpha is awake they'd feel more comfortable getting a basic physical—he can supervise. I would like to make sure they are recovering from the lab."

Rogue nodded, unconsciously rocking the two children in her arms.

Beast bowed his head with a fanged smile, backing up carefully before going to the door.

"Hank," Rogue called as he opened the door, "Move the feral. They need their Alpha."
Hank smiled and looked at the cubs clutched onto her, "I believe they are well attended while they wait. But I'll do my best." He nodded his head to her before leaving. The door clicked behind him and Rogue sighed.

The pups were clutched onto her tightly still, so she carefully rolled and shushed their protests. It'd be uncomfortable to sleep in her clothes, but she wasn't going to pry them off her to change. She was protecting them now, their temporary Alpha, she'd sacrifice her comfort to do the job right.

As the pups quieted in her arms she used her toes to slide off her boots and then kick the blanket up over them. She settled in for the night, spending the dark hours alert and cuddling the pups or humming to them when they startled awake.

It was easy to tell when the pups truly woke up, for they froze carefully and took in deep breaths to scent where they were.

Rogue hummed and spoke softly—"Good mornin', what say yah two tuh gettin' some food an' findin' the Alpha?" They didn't respond, just watched her carefully with their big eyes. Her green eyes crinkled in a smile. "Let's bathe first."

Taking them to her attached bathroom was a different experience—she had to maneuver starting the water and setting out the soaps as well as stripping down to her tank top without losing contact with the two cubs. It was a constant contact that she definitely wasn't used to.

When the girl giggled and splashed in the bubbles, getting her brother to join in, Rogue just smiled. She didn't care about the mess if these two silent cubs enjoyed the bubbles. She hummed an old song her Aunt used to sing to her—gently scrubbing at the scent of metal and chemicals as best she could.

Finally finished, she put on a fresh shirt and jacket and scarf; grabbing her gloves and stuffing them in her pocket while she dressed the cubs. The girl happily swished about in a long blouse fashioned into a dress, a scarf used for a belt. But the boy wasn't so comfortable in just a long t-shirt.

Rogue slid her gloves on and took their hands, taking them to the storage lockers. Given the nature mutants came to them sometimes, runaways and destitute, they kept a basic supply of clothes in varying sizes. The two cubs were smaller than most mutants manifested, than most mutants they found, but the pup was much happier with a pair of shorts that worked like baggy pants on him.

Rogue smiled as his shoulders relaxed. Then she twitched, stiffening as she caught the scent of perfume and exhaustion.

Jean came up behind them, muttering, "Good Morning. I see you survived the night with Rogue."

The redhead's tired smile, and insulting attempt at humour, fell flat. The cubs moved closer to Rogue.

Jean tried again, "Well, what are your names? Surely you have those?"

The pup stiffened, scowling, and the kit looked like she was ready to cry.

"They haven't spoken yet," Rogue offered, in hopes of sending the exhausted red head on her way.

The doctor's face cleared, nodding as if this made sense. "You'll have to let them find what makes them comfortable. It's too bad we can't get a read on what would help them."
Rogue grit her teeth together, trying to manage as politely as she could. "Bless your heart. Excuse us though; we were just on our way to getting them fed."

Jean made a soft sound, tiredly mumbling, "Make sure you don't feed them too many heavy foods. Just some fruit maybe."

As the doctor waved her hand and set off down the hall Rogue looked down at the two pups who had carefully manoeuvred to keep Rogue between them and the redhead. With a little grin Rogue clasped up their hands and led them to the kitchens—if Jean was heading to sleep that meant Beast would take the opportunity to move the feral to a private room.

It took some time to coax them to sitting on the island while she worked, instead of clutching onto her in the large open space, but she managed it. They relaxed when the smells of a good fry up reached their nose—biscuits and eggs and sausage and tomatoes and bacon and grits…with a little wink she also cut up an apple and sprinkled it with cinnamon. "Well, she did say yah needed fruit."

That barely garnered a smile.

Instead of moving to the table she brought a large plate over and sat on the counter with them, showing them how to sop up the egg yolk with the biscuits and generally make a mess of their hands.

The pup stuffed his mouth so full that his cheeks bulged, and the kit would grab a handful and try to hide it while she nibbled at it. Rogue's heart clenched and she tried not to let them know she'd noticed.

Before she took them off the counter, she cleaned and took a look at the leftovers. "We should probably pack something up for Alpha—gimme a sec." With ease of long practice quickly preparing food so she could escape the crowded kitchen, Rogue had a stuffed breakfast sandwich wrapped in tinfoil to keep warm and then tucked in a baggie to go with them.

The cubs watched her carefully as she helped them down—their eyes darting to the sandwich and her face as they gripped onto her free hand or pant leg.

Rogue took a deep breath in the hallway, knowing that this Friday morning the scents would have cleared out overnight. The students usually kept their night escapades to the weekend—otherwise the boy scout and good doctor would come down hard on them. Down the third hallway she finally caught the freshest scent of Beast, and it was pooling from further down.

She ignored the more dangerous scent with Beast—telling her instincts that it was fine for them to go that way despite the smell of blood and metal and feral Alpha. And not her Alpha for all that.

A tremble travelled down her spine before she steeled herself, leading the pups down the halls until even they caught the scent of their alpha and skipped ahead. Little hands reached up, enthusiastically throwing the door open only to freeze on the threshold.
Beast looked up, blinking behind his glasses before he smiled at them and took several steps back until he was against the wall. The pups inched around the room, keeping their eyes on him, before scrambling into the bed with their feral.

Rogue smirked at the doctor—"Thanks for movin' 'im."

He inclined his head genteelly. "My muted instincts understood your reasoning," he gave her a careful look before continuing, "You have their best interest. I will pass that along."
The pup looked up at her from where he sat pressed right against the Alpha's side, he keened at her imploringly. Rogue instinctively made to move forward, catching herself only to look carefully at Beast.

He smiled at her, flashing his fangs in good humour, before chuckling. "It might be best that they have a guard while they wait, and to monitor their alpha—we don't expect him up for a few days."

Rogue flashed a smile back, ducking her head slightly. "Ah'll get ya if we need ya."
"Thank you Rogue. And right now," the boy leaned forward and keened a little louder, "I do believe you are being called to duty."

Rogue laughed and carefully pushed Beast's shoulder, shooing him out the door. He chuckled as he went on his way and she watched carefully until the door was fully shut before turning around and joining the pups on the bed with their alpha.

The pup broke off his whine and crawled right into her lap, nuzzling into her scarf as his little hands gripped her jacket. Rogue breathed out slowly as she wrapped her arms around him, shuffling to get more comfortable on the bed. He adjusted with her, ending up playing with her gloved hand, pressing against it and nuzzling into it.

Rogue let him, knowing he was testing her strength and marking her scent. These were the hands that would protect him; he needed to know them.

She watched over the small pack as the kit fell asleep on alpha's shoulder and the pup played in the safety of her lap.

Logan took in a cautious sniff before he opened his eyes, filtering scents before he was even fully conscious. The cubs were with him, smelling clean and content. They also smelled like breakfast, spices and milk on their breath. The room smelled unfamiliar…and then he smelled the stranger with them.

Hazel eyes snapped open, locked on the woman with the pup in her lap. He was absently playing with some leather, but her dark green eyes were locked on the alpha as he shifted.

Logan took in a deep breath—his lips quirked in a brief smile before he focused. Yeah, it wasn't just the cub's breath that smelled like milk. The woman was lush—smelled like milk and magnolias. Logan hadn't smelled her right away because she didn't smell like chemicals and didn't sound like other humans.

"G'mornin'."

Logan tilted his head at her cautious salutation, listening deeper to her steady heart beat. The pup jerked his head up, letting out an excited sound before lunging for Logan. Wolverine lost his breath when the pup impacted with his ribs, feeling the telling give of a still healing injury.

But he didn't correct the pup and neither did she; although she watched them carefully.
Letting out a soothing low growl for the cubs as he struggled to embrace them, feeling his healing fighting against the heavy pull of his arms. He gained enough control to wrap his cubs in his embrace, nuzzling his chin against the fiercely cuddling pup.
"Morning," he finally responded, his voice more gruff than usual from sleep.

Pup nuzzled, forcefully pushing his head under Logan's chin, "Safe."

And Logan could see how the woman's expression softened, how her tense shoulders relaxed, before she caught his gaze and put her walls back up. He rumbled deep in his chest. For a woman to be so aware of being soft, meant that she had been hurt when she was vulnerable. Meant that her alpha hadn't been doing his job right.

She shifted under his gaze and tilted her head, changing the subject. "The docs weren't expectin' yah up for another few days at least."

Logan smirked, hearing the admiration in her voice. He was strong, a good alpha—she recognized that. "I'm a good healer."

"Hungry?" the pup asked, craning his head to peer into his face.

Logan huffed, smirking in amusement. Of course the pup would know it took a lot of energy to heal. But he wouldn't have said anything just yet.

The woman shuffled, stretching to reach the table at the end of the bed. After moving a jacket that smelled like her (sent up a more powerful breeze of her rich scent) she pulled out a zippie. He carefully took it from her when she offered it, taking out the foil inside and folding down the edges.

He did groan softly as the smell hit him, rich biscuits with sausage and bacon and egg.

"Thanks Darlin'."

She blinked a few times before her lips quirked. "You're welcome."

Logan had just taken his first bite, moving around the pup and kit in his bed, when his eyes snapped to the door. That her eyes focused the same way mere seconds after his attention shifted was notable, but he pushed it aside as the door was flung open and some skinny redhead stormed in.

The stranger didn't even glance his way, ignoring his growl and flat stare and the whimpering of the pup. Then she woke up kit by exclaiming loudly, "Rogue!"

Wolverine blinked as the green eyed woman stiffened and clenched her hands into fists.

"Jean," she drawled in response, her expression carefully shuttered and unmoving.

This Jean woman huffed in frustration, setting her hands on her hips and leaning forward as she planted her feet. "I don't know what you were thinking, but I specifically remember saying that he needed to be monitored in the lab! We have the equipment there to keep a close eye in case anything goes wrong! Why were you so careless?!"

"The cubs needed to see him, and he's a feral—he'll heal just fine, better if he's away from all those smells and the enclosed space."

"I'm the trained doctor! And I can't believe Hank let you move him!"

"I didn't see Hank in the lab this morning," Rogue murmured with a glare. Wolverine's eyes darted to her before refocusing on the interloper.

Jean threw up her hands and scoffed, "So you just take over like it's any of your business? This is ludicrous. I don't even think you have a doctor in your head!"

Rogue scowled, her expression thunderous and threatening as she stood and clenched her fists at her sides. "Yah don't have tah go bringin' up—"

"Where is your glove?!" Jean gasped out.

Rogue blinked and loosened her muscles, "What? I…"

Logan felt the pup shift, looked down to spot his small pale face as his hands clenched around the leather glove he'd been playing with. He scowled and turned his face back to the two women.

"I can't believe you'd risk everyone like that, Rogue. That's completely careless. I know it must be hard with your gift, but that's no reason to endanger us all."

The green eyed woman stuck her chin up, her eyes so dark with anger that Logan's instincts noted her as a potential threat. And standing in front of Red as she was, there was no contest on who was more dangerous. Red was all soft and lean—her dress and coat and heels displaying a woman of easy means rather than a fighter. Rogue by contrast was all healthy muscle and curves; a powerful woman showcased in layers of neutral coloured clothes.

Logan cleared his throat. "Not that it ain't entertaining to watch a cat fight, but a man likes to eat his breakfast in peace."

Jean immediately turned her attention to him, though Rogue kept her defensive posture and eyed the doctor warily. The redhead cleared her throat and smoothed out her lab coat, displaying a smile. He might have been impressed if he hadn't just seen her ignoring his pack, scaring his cubs, and trying to assert dominance ineffectively.

And she was trying to keep him in the lab, which was just no. He didn't know what he would have done if he'd woken in the lab, worse if the cubs weren't where he could protect them…He didn't want to contemplate what would have gone through his head if he woke in a lab and the cubs were there.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that, we weren't expecting you up for a few days," the doctor murmured.

"Didn't stop you from doing it," Logan pointed out calmly. Good Alphas pointed out bad behaviour, and airing pack politics before strangers was bad behaviour.

Red pursed her lips before gathering herself. "Well, nothing for it. Now that I'm here let me do the check up and then get you reinstated back in the lab."

Logan stiffened as the cubs started keening.

"Is that a breakfast sandwich?" Jean questioned with a furrowed brow. "Rogue, I told you to stick to fruit. Anything this heavy is hard to digest when their bodies are still recovering."

"They're ferals, doc. They c'n handle the protein and carbs—probably need it too."

Jean sniffed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, Wolverine was it? Let's just make sure you're healing right and fine to be transferred."

Logan stiffened up as the woman approached, though he noted with some amusement that the redhead gave Rogue a wide berth. The cubs pressed into him, as if they could disappear under his arms—and Logan growled out louder though the doctor still approached obliviously.

When the women had been standing in the room, he hadn't felt as threatened. But as the redhead approached he was even more aware of the healing that still needed to happen and how it would be a struggle to protect the cubs with his heavy limbs.

Jean smiled at the cubs as she pulled out a stethoscope from her pocket—"See? I'm just going to use this to listen to your friend—"

"Alpha," Rogue interrupted flatly.

The redhead blinked rapidly and pursed her lips, but continued speaking as if pretending the other woman hadn't spoken—"friend's heart. It'll be just like when you two play doctor."

Logan let loose a vicious snarl when the redhead reached out to his chest—her hand froze in the air and her eyes widened. As her skin paled he smelled the trace of fear as it jolted through her, sharp and acidic to his nose. "Don't touch me," he growled out warningly.

The redhead nodded and licked her lips as she pulled back slowly, she cleared her throat and straightened her smock after putting away her stethoscope, double checking her pocket as she gathered her nerve.

Logan let his growl thrum lower, a ready warning in case she tried to get close again.
"Hank c'n listen to their hearts later, why don't yah give 'em some space?"

The doctor's face immediately darkened, her eyebrows furrowing low over her painted eyelashes. With a sharp movement she turned on the curly haired woman—"Yes, we can give them some space. I need to talk to you anyway—let's head down to Xavier's office and get a third party to arbitrate."

Rogue stuck up her chin, flexing her fingers.

Logan's growl thrummed up a notch as the pup whined quietly and the kit clutched tighter to his shirt. It seemed like she wanted to get the green eyed frail in trouble—there was no way this Xavier was an unbiased third party with the catty way Red spoke. And the Wolverine definitely didn't like how the Rogue was going to get in trouble for doing what was right for a pack of ferals—or that she was being herded out of his room as if he wanted her gone.

Just as Logan was set to speak up the redhead's eyes became a glazed over grey—her face losing expression for mere seconds before she blinked and scowled. She cleared her face and turned to Logan on the bed.

"I've been called to a meeting. I'm sending Hank up to do a check up and advising Xavier about my recommendations for your recovery." Jean paused as she turned to leave, eyeing Rogue.

Wolverine watched alertly as the redhead still conceded space to the brunette. It was clear, despite the strong attitude, that the Rogue was the alpha. It was both frustrating and amusing that the redhead wasn't showing any respect even as she instinctively deferred to the Rogue.

"You might want to find a pair of gloves…the students are all up and the children in here don't know to stay away."

"Ah well know how mah mutation works," Rogue murmured, arching an eyebrow and tossing her head slightly.

Jean pursed her lips but quietly finished exiting the room.

The kit immediately relaxed back onto his shoulder, though the pup watched the door for a minute before looking at Logan for reassurance. Wolverine chuffed out his breath and jostled the pup with his arm, pleased when the boy went back to playing with the leather glove.

Hearing a shuffle he looked up to watch the Rogue settling down in a chair across the room—her dark green eyes stared at him fixedly, as if daring him to say anything about her new position. He frowned at her, taking a deep breath in to test her scent in the room.

Before the redhead had barged in this female alpha had sat at his side, cuddling the pup—her scent was pooled pleasingly close and mingled with his own. Pup solved his dilemma of respecting her boundaries and yet inviting her back to the bed.
The shameless thing keened and stared at her pleadingly.

Logan smirked as the woman blinked, her eyebrows furrowing just slightly as she visibly struggled with her response. "Pup wants you over here, Darlin',"

Her eyes snapped to his and his expression dropped—no amusement was warranted when she was that scared to approach. He watched her carefully as she curled her fingers into her palms and pushed her chin up.

"Mah mutation is based on skin contact."

His dark eyes darted down to her exposed hand. "You were touching the pups earlier."

She almost sneered at him, pain and anger flaring across her features. "Ah would nevah endanger the pups."

"Easy Darlin'," he soothed carefully, watching her from under lowered eyelids. "I didn't say that. Just sayin' that your mutation don't seem too much a problem."

Rogue blinked at him...then narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to consider him cautiously.

Logan blinked before a slow grin stretched his lips. Smart girl. In a pack this broken, not a pack at all even, it was good to keep some secrets. "Are you holding some cards?"

She pursed her lips.

The Wolverine jolted and murred. Logan cleared his throat and kept his smile up.
The pup whimpered again, and the kit settled down with a little mew back on his shoulder.

The Rogue casually brushed a hand down her other arm, carefully not looking at him though he could see her muscles tensing with the desire to move.

That was a strong pack-mother instinct; fearing a strange alpha yet being almost unable to fight the desire to care for his distressed pups at his side. Wolverine let his eyelids relax slightly so he could watch this powerful female between his lashes, and hopefully let her feel at ease enough to approach.

Pup keened again, sniffing the air towards the woman and straining his neck to get more of her scent.

A sound Logan had never heard from anyone before came from her throat—it was painful and hesitant and yet longing. Between his lashes he watched the Rogue decide and stand up, carefully stalking her way back to the bed with wary eyes on him. She sat at the foot of the bed, much further down than before, and pup murred and crawled into her lap. Her arms opened and folded around him, a hum resonating deep in her chest in response to his chitters.

Kit sighed and closed her eyes, her fist relaxing in a doze.

Logan swallowed. "So, what kind of name is Rogue?"

Her eyes flashed to him, darting to his hand picking up the thick breakfast sandwich before examining his face. Then her lips quirked up on one side and she pressed her nose over the pup's curls before snarking, "And what kind of name is Wolverine?"