He was in Hell.  If Hell was being surrounded by happy couples 24/7.  Scott and Jean.  Betsy and Warren.  Kitty and Pete.  Remy and Ororo.  Jubilee and Synch.  And of course - his lip curled in disgust - Lorna and Alex.

We'll see how charming he is the first time she loses control -- and she always did when she felt threatened -- in the medlab and scalpels him.  He snorted a laugh at the idea of his ex-girlfriend hurting, even involuntarily, the love of her life.  Not in this lifetime, he thought wryly.  More's the pity.

Oh, it wasn't that he was pining over Lorna, he hadn't been in love with her to begin with, but his ego had taken one hell of a beating when she dumped him.  Especially as it'd been for another man.  If you could really call Scott's little brother a 'man', he sneered.  Then sighed.

He wasn't a vindictive guy.  And he didn't have anything against Alex, not really, it was just difficult watching everyone in the mansion couple off.  Everyone but him.  And a few other people, he grinned, remembering Rogue and Logan, who *would* be coupled together, but for their own stubbornness.

When he couldn't stand watching the couples coo and cuddle anymore, he unfolded his lean frame from the couch and headed towards the kitchen for some comfort food, Bobby style.  Which could mean only one thing: Twinkies.

He strolled into the spotless white kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw someone else had beaten him to the Twinkies.  He wanted to wail at the unfairness of it all, but settled for a low "Hmph" instead.

She turned around and he frowned, not recognizing the girl standing in front of him.  Frowned because of the reaction he had to her, a reaction which, by his definitions of mourning -- never mind that he technically *wasn't* in mourning at all -- he shouldn't have had for at least a few months.

After all, it wasn't as though she was classically beautiful, more like... disturbingly enchanting.  She was short, about 5 foot three he supposed, slim, with big sea-green eyes in a triangular face framed with tangled blond hair.  She looked, he thought whimsically, like a disgruntled mermaid.

His frown deepened, because whimsy wasn't like him, he was the jester of the mansion, comedic at any cost.  He decided to get back to his core personality.

"You don't look like a mouse," he announced.

She froze in lifting the sponge delight to her lips and stared at him.  Then she beetled her brows for a moment before her expression cleared and she said, "Well, I'm glad to hear that.  It never was a particular ambition of mine."

"Ah," he said, nodding his head as though he'd just discovered something important.  "I see.  Would you fit into a cupboard, do you think?"

"Noooo," she drew the word out slowly, gazing at him as one would at a man who'd just announced the moon was made of green cheese.  Curious, and just the slightest bit wary.  "Although it would, of course, depend on the size of the cupboard."

"That one, up there," he pointed, and while she turned to stare up at the pine wood shelf, he reached over and snatched the Twinkie from her hand.

"Heh," he chortled gleefully, almost dancing with joy.  "You newbies always fall for that trick."

She spun around to glare at him, and opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, she got that 'there's-an-uptight-British-voice-resounding-in-my-head' look that he recognized well.  The Professor's very own private telephone.

For fun, he asked, "What's your 'gift'?"

Distractedly, she brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and answered, "Um, it's loosely related to Kinesthesia."

That peaked his interest, but before he could ask what kinesthesia was, she was jogging off in the direction of the Professor's office.

He felt the unwelcome hint of panic at the thought that she was leaving, and he called after her, "Wait, Twinkie-thief!  What's your name?"

"I have to go!" she shouted back, then relented, apparently his puppy-dog eyes were still the best weapon known to man (or at least to Bobby).  "Oh, all right," she grumbled.  "It's Jenn."

"Jenn," he said, savoring the sound.  Then flopped back against the counter to think of her some more.  Jenn.  What a girl.

Later, in his room, he looked up the unknown word in the dictionary.

Kinesthesia: A sense of awareness of the position and movement of the voluntary muscles of the body.

Which didn't tell him much at all.  She could control her voluntary muscles?  That wasn't a mutant power, it was human biology.

He drifted off to sleep, still thinking about her, dreaming dreams of swirling honey-blond hair and bewitching green eyes.

He awoke to the sound of yelling.  Rogue's yelling, to be exact.  Ordinarily, he would've been out of bed like a shot to see what was wrong with his dearest friend, but he'd heard Logan growling and figured the two of them would either eventually rid themselves of the tension by having sex, or killing each other.

"Get the fuck out of my room, Logan!  You are such an asshole. I don't know why I'm still friends with you!"

"Because you've scared everyone else off!" Logan shouted back. Silence.

Then, almost a whisper, "Please.  Go."

Bobby sat up in bed.  Uh-oh.  That wasn't the familiar sound of an angry Rogue.  She was upset, genuinely hurt.

He dressed hurriedly, listening to the conversation next door intently and imagining what they were doing.
Logan, probably reaching out to touch her, hissing as she likely flinched away.  "Rogue... I didn't mean..."

"Go.  Away." Rogue, in all likelihood turning to look out the window.

Bobby waited until he heard the door shut quietly and Logan's heavy footfalls in the hallway, then he slipped out the door and knocked on Rogue's.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly.

The door swung open so suddenly he almost fell on top of her -- and wouldn't that have pleased the possessive Wolverine -- and he saw that though her eyes were slightly pink, she hadn't been crying.  The Rogue sheds no tears, he thought, it'd be too much of a weakness.

He carefully wrapped an arm around her sweater-clad shoulders and guided her into the corridor.  "Come on," he said jauntily.  "I'll make you a cup of coffee, then you can tell me what the most recent sins of the Wolverine are."

She laughed and tugged on a lock of his hair.  "More like *I'll* make the coffee before you poison us both, then you'll spend the next hour making fun of Logan behind his back."

He opened his mouth to disagree, realized he couldn't, and closed it.

She grinned and rested her head against his arm briefly.  "Thanks, Bobby.  You're a good friend."

He felt his throat close up with emotion at the sincerity in her voice, then cleared it noisily.  "I know, I know.  All that plus good looks, charm and an undeniable way with women.  And I'm not president yet... why?"

Rogue snorted and socked him in the stomach, lightly, and, laughing, they headed towards the kitchen.

Hours later, he found Jenn sitting out by the pool, dangling her feet in the water and gazing down at her.. toes?  He noted that her toenails were painted electric blue and while it was a nice enough colour, he couldn't imagine that it was all *that* fascinating.

"So," he said conversationally, plopping down next to her and getting the bottom half of his jeans wet in the pool.  "I looked up kinesthesia in the dictionary.  It didn't really clear much up, though."

She looked at him, then smiled, slowly.  "Bobby, right?  I wondered if I'd see you again."

He nodded.  "How'd you know my name?  Either I'm wearing a name tag or you're psychic.  Or it was a lucky guess," he added, watching her closely.

"None of the above.  My roommate was quite eager to fill me in on all the single guys here.  You're Bobby Drake, you can freeze things, and apparently you're quite the joker."

"Wow.  And all I know about you is your first name."

She shrugged, and a lock of smooth blond hair slipped over her shoulder.  "Knowledge is a good thing.  The more you know, the fewer surprises there are."

He grinned.  "I agree.  So, in the interest of furthering my knowledge, tell me what your mutation is."

She started, then studied him quietly for a moment.  "Okay, if you think you can take it." At his enthusiastic nod, she continued, "Basically, I can control muscles, my own, other people's.  Any muscle at all; I could speed your heart up, stop your lungs from contracting, force every muscle in your body to work against each other.  I could kill you in an instant, without breaking a sweat."

He let out a breath.  "Whew.  That's some power."

Jenn looked at him, surprised.  "You aren't- you aren't worried I'll do something to you, inadvertently?"

Now he was surprised.  "No.  I was thinking about how frightening it must be for you, to know what you could do."

It looked like she'd stopped breathing.  "That's - that's the first time anyone's ever thought about how I might feel about it, instead of being scared of me."

He reached over to brush that one errant lock of hair off of her forehead.  "You remind me of a friend of mine, someone I'm very close to.  I'd like for you to meet her, I think you'd have a lot in common."

They walked into the conservatory, and he slipped his hand into hers, ignoring her look of shock and pulling her gently along with him when she stalled in the entrance as the voices reached them.

"Logan, you have no right to interfere with my life, none at all!"

"I just don't like seeing some dickhead fuck around with you."

"No, you do a good enough job of that on your own."

Bobby stifled his grin and coughed loudly, watching as Logan spun round and pierced him with an angry glare.

"What d'you want, Iceboy?" he growled.

Bobby pushed Jenn in front of him, and shoved her forward.  "To introduce Jenn and Rogue.  Rogue, this is the girl I was telling you about.  Jenn, the girl hitting the tall snarly guy - he's Logan by the way - is my friend Rogue."

With that, he left the two women and Logan alone, waiting outside until Logan too, had stalked out, then sauntered off, whistling, to the kitchen.

Inside, Jenn wet her lips nervously and said, "Hi.  I, uh, didn't mean to interrupt you and your boyfriend..."

"Boyfriend?" Rogue snorted and shoved a hand through her dark auburn hair, dislodging a hair clip and sending it to the ground with a soft twinkle.  "Please, sugar.  I'd only date an idiot like him if I were brainwashed." That last part shouted loudly enough for Canada to hear, Jenn thought.

"Well, he seemed, kind of... jealous, when you were talking about that other guy."

Rogue brightened.  "Really?" Then she slumped again.  "No, he's just acting fatherly."

She sat down on a bench nestled between two ferns and motioned for Jenn to join her.  She did, looking everywhere but at the woman sitting next her.

"Hey... are you... look, don't worry, I won't hurt you or anything."

"What?" Jenn almost laughed and looked over at her.  "No... its just that you're very-"

"Annoying?" Rogue inserted.

"No.  Intimidating.  You're so confident and, I don't know, you look like one of those gorgeous people you only ever see on TV or in magazines.  Makes me feel inferior."

"Me?  Why, thank you.  But you've no reason to feel intimidated by me, I'm about as far from beautiful as a mutant can be.  And as for being confident, well it's not really a choice when you have a mutation like mine."

"It's like a shield," Jenn murmured.

"Yeah.  Y'know, you're very insightful."

She flushed a little.  "Thanks.  It's easier to examine someone else's motives than your own."

Rogue smiled and crossed her ankles.  "So... tell me about you and Bobby."

A week later...

Jenn and Rogue were sitting in the lounge, watching the latest generic made-for-TV romance, when Jenn said, slowly, "Rogue?  I've been thinking about something recently..."

Rogue tilted her head to look at her friend.  "And?"

"You know that I can control muscles, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I was thinking that perhaps I could help you switch off your mutation."

"How?  I mean, you control muscles, and the skin is an organ, isn't it?"

"Yes, ugh it's a stupid idea.  You'd have to trust me a lot to-"

"I do.  What is it?"

Jenn gulped, "The muscle is...your brain.  I could help you find the off-switch, then you should be able to control it."

"What a brilliant idea!  When do you want to try it?"

"When?  Well, I hadn't really thought that far ahead..."

"Tomorrow's good for me."

"Um, okay."

Two days later...

Out of the blue, Rogue said, "Did you know that Logan was the first one of the X-Men to accept me?  No-one else trusted me because I'd been with the Brotherhood, but for some reason he decided I was worth trusting."

Jenn paused in plaiting the side of her shoulder length hair.  "So why haven't you told him that you love him?"

Rogue sucked in a breath, then released it.  "I don't know.  I mean, thanks to you, I can finally touch him.  I guess it's...  fear of rejection?"

"You should practice saying the words," Jenn advised, looking over Rogue's shoulder with a small smile.

Rogue's brow creased.  "Why-"

"Trust me on this."

"Oh-kay." she took a deep breath.  "Logan, I love you.  I love you, Logan.  Logan, I lo- mmph!"

Jenn watched, amused, as Logan swooped over the couch and devoured Rogue's mouth.  She got up and quickly walked away as the moans became too explicit for her to listen to without embarrassment.  She heard, in the foyer, the telltale sounds of clothing hitting the floor, and hurried towards her bedroom, and the silence within.

It was about midnight when she opened the door and found Bobby standing outside, looking rumpled and annoyed.

"I can't sleep with all the groaning and screaming coming from Rogue's room.  Mind if I crash on your couch for the night?"

She let him in, and as he fell onto the couch with a sigh, he was so adorable she just couldn't keep it in any longer.  She said, hesitantly, "Bobby... I think, I think I might be falling in love with you."

Those clear blue eyes, so often filled with humour, were gazing soberly into hers.  "That's good to hear, because I'm pretty certain that I love you."

Her eyes filmed over, but she blinked the tears away and said, "That being the case, I think it'd be okay for you to share my bed."

He rose and she added, hurriedly, "Not, not in *that* way.  I mean, I know Rogue and Logan said they loved each other and then... But they've known each other for years and we've-"

He placed a finger on her lips.  "It's okay, I get it, Jenn.  You need time.  We have all the time in the world, mermaid."

Mermaid? she thought dizzily, and vowed to think a little more about that the next day.  Right then, at that moment in time, she couldn't think clearly because her every thought centred around one thing: she was kissing the man she loved.
 

THE END