Title: The Dance
Author: Angel LeeAnn
Rating: PG
Summary: A romantic, but innocent moment between friends.
Disclaimer: If they belonged to me, X2 would've featured way more Logan and Rogue scenes.
NOTES: I know I already have 7 unfinished stories. I can't help it! I really can't.
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The stars glittered through the glass of the vast bay windows, softly illuminating the marble floors in a haunting mist. A lone occupant stood in the middle of the ballroom, gazing up at the cathedral ceiling at a mural painting of swirling ocean waves. Across the way, a man was leaning against the doorframe of the large French doors, solemnly studying the young woman.
How painfully alone she looked; like an abandoned child on a deserted highway. It angered him to see her isolating herself in the pathetic premise of protecting others from her poisonous skin. He knew the truth was she felt like an outcast among outcasts. It was why she'd feigned a headache tonight, caging herself in her room while the others enjoyed Xavier's charity banquet.
It was now four in the morning, the party long since died out. Rogue had snuck downstairs, hoping to capture with her imagination the world of dancing…touching…kissing. She closed her eyes, swaying to the music of the silent Grande Piano nestled in the corner of the empty room.
Logan crept forward, propelled by some instinctive urge. Lost in her head, she didn't hear him shuffle up to her. He cleared his throat and she jolted, her azure eyes flying open, looking somewhat guilty. As though disappearing into a fantasy was some ridiculous sin. Logan grinned, nudging her with his elbow. "Aren't you missing something?"
She shifted her weight, bowing her head. "What?"
"Someone to lead," he answered, offering his hand.
Rogue's eyes widened in amused surprised, but placed her slender, gloved hand in his larger, warmer one. Logan gently pulled her to him. He gracefully spun her, amazed at his own display of sentiment. He wasn't the gruff, standoffish Wolverine. Not in this surreal moment. Not with Marie peering up at him with her sorrowful eyes. He brought her delicate body to his hard chest, holding her close as he pressed his coarse cheek to her silky auburn hair. His heart soared when she rested her head upon his shoulder.
If only others could throw away their fear. This was all she really needed: someone to hug her. Someone to chase away her agony, letting her know they weren't afraid to embrace her. That she was loved and cherished. And if others could do this, then they would see what he easily saw that first day out on the cold Canadian road. Marie was a miracle capable of soothing the worst torment, banishing the darkness. She was spirited and gutsy, but as fragile as glass.
Rogue sighed, snuggling into him, drowning in his secure arms. The blue moon cast a ray of pale light across the couple, eloping them, protecting them from the worries of the outside world. She inhaled deeply, teasing herself with the smell of him. She could almost taste the cigar he'd recently smoked, the leather of his jacket, and the musky scent that was uniquely his. His arms tightened around her and she suddenly felt like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, being swept away by a gentle man hiding behind an aggressive snarl.
Around and around the room they elegantly danced, two hearts beating as one as they moved perfectly in sync. It wasn't until the dull orange beam of light sprayed across his face did Logan realized the night had disappeared. He laid a chaste kiss to her forehead before drawing back, peering down into her glazed eyes. "Mornin'," he murmured, his voice husky.
She smiled lazily up at him. "Thank you."
He shrugged. "Don't mention it, kid." He leaned closer, eyeing her pointedly. "And I mean: don't mention it."
Rogue laughed and held up her right hand. "I promise it won't leave this room."
"Good." He stepped back, flicking his hazel eyes towards the sunrise. "I've got a reputation to keep." He then grinned at her, jerking his head. "Come on. Let's go get breakfast."
Rogue eagerly followed him out of the ballroom.
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So, what did you think?