What lies beneath
Rating: T for profanity
Characters: Logan, Rogue, and Jubilee
Summary: Curiosity can't kill the Wolverine. He wishes it could.
All standard disclaimers apply. Don't own them, am making no money off them, am most assuredly not worth suing, etc.
Gratitude and Godiva to Rachel for the beta.
What lies beneath
There were times, Logan reflected, when having a healing factor was a bitch.
When flu swept through the mansion, leaving people puking everywhere, who got to play nursemaid? When a mission went awry, who did Jean race past without a second glance as she went to fuss over the Boy Wonder?
Worst of all, when Rogue and Jubilee got caught stealing Cyclops' underwear, who was unable to slit his wrists to avoid hearing why?
" . . . and I was, like, totally convinced they'd be tightie-whities, because he just gives off that vibe, you know?" Jubilee jabbered, cracking her gum. "But my girl Rogue was totally right – not only does he wear boxers" – she waved a black silk pair as evidence – "but he sleeps in them, too!"
"Boxers," Logan said.
"It was just a dare, Logan," Rogue said. "The girls were talking about it at lunch, and we couldn't decide, so we needed proof, of course."
"Of course," Logan repeated numbly.
"And Kitty said she could get us in," Rogue went on, "but Jubes said it would be better to keep it just us, so we waited until Scott and Jean went out – they won't be back until late tonight – and we each took a pair.
"We were gonna get some of the ones he sleeps in, too," Rogue continued, "but we figured he'd miss those, because they were different."
"Different," Logan echoed.
"Yeah, they're CUTE!" Jubilee said. "Who woulda thunk it? Cyclops sleeps in flannel boxers with cartoons on them!"
"Cartoons," Logan repeated woodenly.
Jubilee and Rogue exchanged an anxious look. "Dude," Jubilee said, "are you gonna, like, keep repeating everything? It's getting kinda scary."
"Scar—" Logan began. "No, wait, fuck this. How in hell did you get into their room? And what in hell is wrong with both of you that you're drooling over that dick?" Logan wondered if that made him sound jealous. "He's practically a married man, for Chrissakes!" he added righteously.
Jubilee laid a comforting hand on his arm. "We woulda gotten yours, too, Wolvie, but everyone knows you go commando."
Logan's mind whirled in a maelstrom of mortification before spitting out several salient facts in ascending order of awfulness: 1) the entire school knew he went commando; 2) Rogue's taste in men had devolved to the point where she found androids attractive; 3) he, the mighty Wolverine, had spent the better part of two years taking orders from a guy who wore Tweety Bird underwear; and 4) Jean had rejected him in favor of a guy who wore Underoos to bed.
He must have unconsciously voiced that last sentiment aloud, because Rogue's tone turned snippy. "They're NOT Underoos, Logan," she said. "They're boxers with cartoon characters. That's different!"
"Different," Logan repeated incredulously.
"Some are Bugs Bunny, some are Snoopy – a whole lot are Snoopy as the Red Baron – and some just have smiley faces," Jubilee clarified. "I bet he looks hot in them, actually. Really hot. And you're doing that repeating thing again, dude. Just when we were making progress on that one, too."
Rogue began to giggle helplessly, and Logan lowered his head into his hands as yet another downside to his healing factor occurred to him: he would never, ever be able to have a vasectomy.
"You're not gonna tell on us, are you, Logan?" Rogue said anxiously, doing the puppy-dog-eyes number on him and dialing up her Southern accent for good measure. "We're counting on you, sugar."
And fuck if the kid hadn't figured out that "sugar" was a more effective way to shut down Wolverine than Cyclops' optic blasts ever would be, Logan thought sourly. "If you ask me, you should both be ready to die of shame," he said. "You wanna go public with the fact that you wanna get your hands on Scooter's shorts, you gotta live with that." He snorted.
"God," Jubilee said in wonder. "You really ARE pissed that we didn't go for your shorts first. I'm telling you, Wolvie, if it weren't for that commando thing we would totally
be – "
"Enough!" Logan snapped. "I don't give a fuck! Do whatever you want! I give up! I don't want to hear about it, you understand me? And for Chrissakes, do not ever, EVER, talk to me about fucking Cyclops and his fucking underwear ever, EVER, again!"
"You kinda tweaked that repeating thing, dude," Jubilee observed. "Now you're doing it in the middle of sentences, too."
"EVER!" Logan thundered. He stormed off down the hall, muttering darkly and profanely about healing factors, vasectomies and Underoos.
"Well, I think he took it pretty well, considering," Rogue said thoughtfully.
"Better than I thought he would," Jubilee agreed. "We gotta finish our research, though. You ready for Phase 2?"
"You bet," Rogue said, eyes agleam. She paused, looked carefully up and down the hall, and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "When did you say Professor X was going out?"