A/N: Just a drabble about Logan and Rogue. Inspired by nothing in particular. Can be read as hinting at Logan/Rogue possibilities or not, it's flexible. I'd love to hear what you think of it, so please review!

The school dance had been Storm's idea. More technically, the idea had come from a few of her students, but it was Storm who championed their cause and petitioned the Professor for the older kids' to have a prom, like any other normal high schoolers would. Not that much petitioning had been involved, really, since Charles was immediately receptive to the notion. And so the Mutant Prom was on.

Jean tried to wrangle Logan into being a chaperone, but he had told her in no uncertain terms that he would rather take several bullets to the abdomen than babysit a bunch of horny teenagers for a night of carousing and illegal drinking. But unable to resist her charms completely, Logan did allow himself to be talked into helping with the set-up crew.

Logan strung up lights and inflated balloons and built a stand for the DJ. He was so busy working on last minute additions and adjustments that he didn't realize the time until there were already eager children flooding into the hall.

As he made his quick escape—all the important work was done—Logan spotted Bobby and Kitty entering together. He couldn't deny the small touch of happiness this image gave him. They'd seemed like such a good fit in the other reality, and their relationship in the here and now made things feel just a tad more right to Logan. Besides, he was just grateful that Bobby and Rogue had ended on such amicable terms. A heartbroken Rogue was not something he ever wanted to see. Luckily, the group had all, somehow, remained friends through the transition. In fact, he was surprised not to see her with them.

Logan craned his head, searching in the flood of incoming students for his favorite (a fact he admitted unabashedly), but couldn't find her. With a mental shrug, Logan gave up and pushed his way out of the hall, vaguely replying to all the shouts of, "Hey, Professor!" that came his way.

In very little time he was out of the way of the entrance and he could breathe again. As he walked down the corridor, Logan looked back over his shoulder into the dance hall, admiring his own handiwork and the way the kids' elegant outfits shone under his lights. Smiling, he turned back around—just in time to stop himself from colliding with a student clearly in a hurry on her way to the prom.

Rogue gave a quick, "Oh, sorry," her eyes glancing up at him. Seeing who it was, her expression cleared and she smiled.

"Hi, Professor Logan," she greeted, then raised an amused eyebrow as she noticed the way he was staring at her.

Without knowing it, Logan's jaw had fallen slightly after he'd gotten his first glimpse. Now his eyes moved up and down, taking in the full look of Rogue's tight-fitting blue dress with blue silk gloves.

"Wow, kid," he said, still staring. "You look…"

"Good?" Rogue completed, a glimmer in her eye.

"Grown-up," Logan corrected firmly, but just as teasingly. It was true, though. What she'd said. She did look good. Good and grown-up.

She smirked. "You know, I don't have to be the Professor to know exactly what you're thinking right now," she informed him.

He raised a challenging eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Uh-huh. You're thinking, 'Whoa! When did Rogue grow up and become so attractive? She was just a little girl when I met her!'" she mimicked in a deep, rough tone.

Logan made an indignant face, but to his horror, no quick-witted denial came to him. No words came to him at all. Rogue laughed kindly.

"Really, Professor Logan, sometimes you are just one big walking cliché."

"What, so does that mean you don't have a crush on me anymore?"

The words were light and playful, not meant to offend or hurt. But they were, of course, based on reality. Which is why Logan's intestines began to wrap around themselves when Rogue didn't blush her embarrassment or shoot him a scolding look for bringing up this fact that had never been acknowledged aloud between them. Instead, her eyes went wide with surprise and then she gave a genuine, bright laugh.

"Crush?" she repeated incredulously. She punched a gloved hand against his arm in a friendly maneuver. "You have a seriously swollen ego there. You know, not all of your students fall in love with you. Some of us have managed to resist your gruff charms."

All light-heartedness vanished from the Wolverine. He couldn't think what to say, and so the silence dragged out. Rogue's smile faltered and dropped away uneasily as she noticed his change in temperament.

"Professor?"

This was it. This was the first loss Logan had suffered in this new version of reality. He'd started to think that everything was better here, that there would be no consequences at all. But of course he'd been wrong. Nothing was ever that perfect. And this was one cost of the new timeline. His bond with Rogue had been taken from him.

This Rogue hadn't met him in Canada. This Rogue didn't have any sort of special relationship with him. He was just another one of her Professors, and she just another one of his students. The Logan she knew had never come to care for her like a little sister, and she had never developed any sort of meaningful feelings towards him in return (albeit feelings of a different kind). All of that was lost to him.

"You okay?"

Clearing his throat, the Wolverine forced a smile that he knew couldn't fool somebody as perceptive as Rogue. "Fine, kid. I was just… remembering… a thing." When her concerned look remained put, he smiled more honestly. "Really, it's nothing important. Now you go on and get to that party. Your friends are probably waiting for you."

Still not completely convinced, Rogue was relaxed enough to smile again. "Okay," she agreed. "Well, I'll see you in class, Professor." She began to walk off.

"Hey, Rogue?"

She turned back, her gentle brown eyes fixing on his.

"Do me a favor? Just… call me Logan," he asked. "Not any of this Professor crap."

Rogue shot him a look at this comment, as though she were trying to pretend she was scandalized, but couldn't, because she was too amused.

"I doubt that Professor X would appreciate you calling the Professor thing 'crap,'" she noted.

"Yeah, well, I bet he'd understand," Logan muttered. Rogue's eyebrows drew together, but he interrupted preemptively, "Doesn't matter. Just promise me, okay?"

Granting him a sincere smile, she nodded. "All right, Logan."

He nodded back in thanks and then she was off, hurrying along to the party. Logan couldn't help but chuckle at the way she was certainly less graceful in heels than Storm or Jean. Still. Rogue had her own charms.

And now, with her calling him Logan instead of Professor, he could pretend in his own head at least that things were the same between them now as they had been once upon a parallel time.