The Boy Scout Berserker

Night made everything look better and Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was no exception.

Rogue walked through the vast halls on her own and relished each moment of it. Sure, the mansion already looked great, as mansions usually did. But night was when it really became special. All the stuff that the Professor put in to make people think it was a fancy school—the bookshelves, the drapes, the chandeliers—turned it into a place of mystery after the sun set.

And, more importantly, after everyone went to bed. Because nothing spoiled that mood faster than hearing Kitty complain about homework or having Kurt and Evan goof off when she was trying to read. Or seeing Jean and Scott…

Rogue terminated the thought. No point in spoiling her solitude, even if she was just going to grab a glass of water. Thirst had woken her up but it's not like she needed an excuse to wander the halls at night.

Then she turned the corner and saw the kitchen's bright and cheery light at the end of the hallway.

"Aw, man," she said.

Hopefully, she thought as she walked closer, whoever was there would be too sleepy to make conversation.

She let out a sigh of relief when she reached the kitchen and saw Logan sitting on a chair, socked feet propped up on the table and a bottle of beer in his hand. Lucky break to get the least talkative X-Man that night.

Logan greeted her with a taciturn nod, which Rogue returned. Then he grunted and went back to his own thoughts. Crossing the kitchen, Rogue took a glass from the cabinet and filled it up from the dispenser. The touch of cool liquid on her parched lips provided instant relief and she savored the clear taste. Felt a little weird with Logan sitting there but at least he didn't pester her the way most others would have.

Finishing the glass, she put it on the counter and turned around to walk back. She stopped mid-step when Logan cleared his throat.

"You gonna clean that?"

The way Logan said it didn't sound like he was asking. She raised her hands in surrender.

"My bad," she said, giving the glass a quick rinse and then drying it with a towel. Logan returned to nursing his beer.

She never really got Logan. He was as tough as they came. Except, sometimes, he came off more like a ten-year old kid's impression of a tough guy—growly and dangerous but in a family friendly kind of way. He acted like he might go wild but he never really did.

Rogue put the dried glass back into the cabinet. As she did, she saw the label on Logan's bottle: A&W.

He was drinking root beer.

She laughed. She couldn't help it—the whole thing was just so weird. Logan, badass extraordinaire, spending his late nights drinking soda.

"Something funny?" he growled.

"No, sorry. Well, kind of. It's just that you're drinking root beer."

His eyes narrowed. "You got a problem with root beer?"

"I'm fine with root beer. It's just…" she trailed off, trying to figure out how to ask this, or if she even should. Logan liked his privacy, and she understood that. It was mighty peculiar, though. "Didn't think I'd ever see you drinking soda is all. Figured a tough guy like you would be downing a beer."

Then it hit her. "Oh shoot! Sorry, are you like a recovering—"

He shook his head. "Not an alcoholic. I just don't drink."

Rogue relaxed, glad she hadn't been too insensitive. But she was still curious. "So what's the story then? You come in like you're all wild and dangerous but you don't drink, you don't curse, you always ride your motorcycle with your helmet on even though you're the one guy who doesn't need to—you're like a boy scout pretending to be a berserker."

The moment she'd said that she knew she'd gone too far. She tensed up, full expecting him to give her double duty on some extra-grueling training session. Hell, maybe she deserved it—she didn't like it when folks asked her personal questions.

He glared at her. "You doing a special for the school paper or something? Why all the questions?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. It's midnight and nothing else is happening, so why not?"

"Guess you're right." Logan got his feet off the table and planted them on the linoleum floor, adjusting the chair to face her. He leaned forward.

"What you said earlier about me being a boy scout pretending to be a berserker? Truth is, it's the other way around. You know why they call me Wolverine?"

"Sure. You act the part. All animalistic, and stuff."

He shook his head. "I don't act it. I am it. Feral, the Prof called me once. And he wasn't wrong. That's who I am, deep down."

"And Professor X told you to keep things PG-rated for us?"

"Nah, he didn't, and it isn't for you—not just for you, anyway. I don't like being that way, Rogue. The goody-two-shoes act is kind of goofy but makes it easier for me to keep things in control. Like I'm not giving in to what's inside me. I've lost control before and… it ain't something I'm proud of."

"Sure," she said. "That's kind of the whole mutant thing. Like when you guys first found me."

"Sort of," he said. Logan lowered his head and suddenly looked a lot older than he was—which Rogue guessed was early forties? Hard to tell with him and every student had a different opinion as to his exact age. Logan's lips tightened, eyes going from side to side as if he was looking for an exit. Like maybe he thought he'd said too much.

"You don't need to worry about it. We all know you're the ultimate badass," she said, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"I'd rather not be," he said, eyes still downcast. Then he looked up. "But since I am, it might as well be for you kids."

Rogue blushed, a little embarrassed and hoping she hadn't embarrassed Logan. "Uh, thanks. I guess."

"You can pay me back by brushing up on your training." He pointed at her, suddenly all business. "You need to be a lot faster on your feet."

"Right! I'll, uh, work on that."

"And get back to sleep, it's a school night."

She threw up her hands. "All right, already!"

Rogue was halfway out the door when a thought came to her. "Hey, Logan. You ever try sarsaparilla?" She stopped and turned around to face him.

Mid-swig, Logan put down the bottle. "Can't say I have."

"It's pretty good. Back home I'd always drink some on the nights it was too hot to sleep. Don't know if you can find any up here but it might be worth a look."

Logan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah. Maybe it's time to mix things up a bit. Thanks."

"Sure thing," she said.

Back in her cherished darkness, Rogue headed back to her room, happy with her renewed solitude but no longer regretting its interruption.

The End