Title: I Stand Watching
Author: Kia Mira
Email: kia_mira@bellsouth.net
Fandom: X-Men (movie)
Rating: PG-13 HET
Summary: Logan watches Rogue.
Category: Rogue/Logan Romance
Disclaimer: If I owned them I'd be rich, rich, rich....instead I use them shamelessly and then give 'em back mostly unharmed. So since I don't own please no fair sueing a helpless mother of three.

She is slidding the hood over her hair as I stand watching. It seems I have spent quite a lot of time standing and watching her. I watched her accross that bar in Laughlin City. She had been staring at the tip jar. Longing in her eyes.

Yeah, I watched her. I was ready to leave, but the sight of her sitting there changed my mind. So against all my self preserving instincts I sat down. I knew I should have just gone. That last guy hadn't been as drunk as he should have been. He might start questioning, but as I told myself to leave my body surprised me and did the exact opposite.

So I sat and acted like she wasn't the reason I stayed. Ordered a beer lit a cigar and glanced around as though I hadn't a care in the world. That little decision led to the second incidant of standing and watching.

The rage was swimming through my vains and I was ready to let it go. Claws bared and anger written on every line of my body. I glanced around the room checking that there were no other heros. When my eyes fell on her. She was staring at me her eyes wide and her young breasts heaving, yeah, I noticed that, jeez. I am a man. Admittedly a man who has a strong beastial side, but that is who I am now. She was scared and stunned and I had put that look in her eyes. For some reason it was the sight of her that soothed the savage beast. Yeah, I'm startin' with cliche`s and moving to proverbs next. It was that sudden calming that had me hightailing it out of there.

I was so floored by the sudden calming that I never noticed her getting into the bike trailer. Which for someone with my senses should have been a walk in the park. That is how I came to be standing and watching her yet again.

I can only remember two times that I stood watching her that I didn't derive any pleasure from. Once while I stood my claws buried to the hilt in her chest. The other I stood over her limp body. Fear gripping my soul at the stillness of her features. I didn't care what happened to me, but she had to be alright. So I touched her for the second time giving her my life force, my being.

It seemed I was destined to watch her from afar. Tonight I can see it in her eyes she is contented tonight. Those beautiful expressive eyes say that she is feeling it, too. This feeling that is more than friendship. There are other nights that I can see longing and emptiness. Longing for me to fill her. We are two peices to a whole and as I look at her we are content. Her eyes shining with understanding an understanding that only we two share.

The others try to classify our relationship. Try to cage us with their preconcieved notions. They call my care for her brotherly. I think the things I want to do with her are illegal in about oh, forty of the United States. If I were her brother they would be illeagal in the other ten.

I flirt with Jean and leer at Storm and they don't bother to look past the shell. The clear eyes that speak trite phrases like those spoken to Jean after the Statue of Liberty incident. "You can tell her my heart belongs to someone else." Nothing but words spoken to cover the relief of finding she, Rogue was alright and not dead as I had thought.

In a way I foster their beliefs because in doing so it frees us to continue our nightly ritual. Some nights it is enough to pull the brush through her hair and other nights, like tonight. I hate to leave her so I whisper "'Night kid." I think I will always need that. To stand watching.