Rating: PG-13 - adult themes/naughty words

Summary: John proves a point to Rogue about something. John-Bobby-Rogue, OT3 references!

Spoilers: Set slightly before the beginning of X2..

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stan Lee, Marvel and their many, many well-paid lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. Believe that.

Authors' Notes: Dedicated to Leah, Grace, Mary. Long live the Lighter.

I would like to thank the most awesome band that is Massive Attack for inspiring me with their beautiful song, "Angel", as well as the Zippo company, and, of course, Shirley Manson and Garbage. Without them, this fic would not have been possible. Also, I dunno why the hell my fics keep double spacing when I post them here. Enjoy, my friends.

Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano76 AT gmail DOT com. All flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.

"This is nothing new to me

It takes more than what you've got

To frighten me I'm not scared of you

There's nothing you can do

Or take from me

You're bound to lose the game

There's no one else to blame

You play so safe

And you're not risking enough

You are doomed to be undone

I swear I'll be the one

To bring you down

It's all your fault

'Cause you got caught ... " - "Untouchable", Garbage

"Untouchable" By Net Girl

She didn't know what she was waiting up for. Hours had passed since everyone else, including Bobby, had gone to bed. Yet, she couldn't sleep herself. Most of her restless nights dealt with worrying about Logan. Where was he? Was he all right? Was he ever coming back? Months, and not one word. Some days, Rogue thought he'd flat-out abandoned her at Xavier's School.

Her gaze fell on the dog tags he'd left with her, his promise to her that he would eventually return. With a sigh, she tossed them onto the sofa beside her then she folded her arms across her chest. He'd probably decided everyone was better off without him. If that's what he thought, fine. She was perfectly content with Bobby.

She slouched a bit, her arms unfolding as she let out a frustrated breath, her bare fingers tracing the naked skin of her forearm. She wasn't completely content with Bobby. How could she be when she couldn't touch him for more than five seconds at a time? Only with gloves was she able to ... Her eyes closed as she bowed her head. It hurt too much to even think about it.

"You're up awfully late."

Rogue startled, her eyes flying open when she heard a voice. She relaxed, her surprise turning into annoyance when she found John standing behind the sofa, clicking the cap of that damn lighter open and shut. "You scared ten years offa me," she scolded in a hushed tone. She couldn't stay mad at him too long, not when he had that grin on his face. "What are you doin' down here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Could say the same thing about you," he replied as he sat down on the back of the sofa, looking at the lighter in his hand. He sparked the flame, and he studied it for a moment in the mild darkness of the room. "Sittin' around, thinkin' about the guy isn't going to bring him back, you know."

"I know," she said, defensively, then closed her mouth when she saw the smile on John's face widen. "Why don't you go back to your room and mind your own business for once?" She narrowed her eyes at him, briefly. "Or bother Bobby, if you're in the mood."

He shrugged. "I'm not. Not right now, anyway," he replied, casually. His free hand slammed the cap of his lighter shut then looked to Rogue. "I'd rather give you shit."

Frowning, she turned her back on him. "I was fine until you came down here, I'll have you know," she muttered. "And I wasn't thinking about only Logan, either."

"Oh, really now?" His tone reflected the interest he took in her comment. He leaned over, gazing intently upon her profile. "Who else were you thinkin' about? C'mon. You can tell me."

"Would you go away?" she snapped. She didn't feel like playing with him, not tonight.

"Mmm-hmm." He sat up straight, letting his eyes trail over the girl sitting before him. This was the least clothed he'd seen Rogue in the last few weeks. Something kept her from chancing skin-to-skin contact with anyone, and it was more than just because of her particular power. He knew why. And also why he aggravated her so much lately.

She, on the other hand, wanted him to leave her alone. Not tonight. Any night but tonight.

"I bet I know who it was," he quietly said as he stood up. Moving to the right, he lowered himself until he was in a position to whisper into her ear, "Bobby, wasn't it?"

She shivered then brought her hands, arms crossing at her chest, to her shoulders. Her fingers gripped them tightly. She sensed him so very close to her and heard his even, quiet breathing behind her. "So what if I was? I'm not allowed?" She then heard the click of his lighter, and her eyes flicked to her right. His arm was draped over the back of the sofa on that side.

"I didn't say anything like that."

But his voice continued to whisper in her left ear.

John smiled as he watched Rogue's fingers clutch her shoulder. Her tension level had stepped up considerably.

"Then what are you trying to say?" she finally asked when he remained silence after that. She heard the light cap snap shut once more.

"Nothing. I don't care if you think about your boyfriend," he said, voice a little louder than a whisper now. A laugh followed. "I think about him a lot myself."

"I know."

"I know that you know."

She pressed her lips together. Her hands slipped away from her shoulders, and the left strap of the nightgown slid down her arm as a result. "You're bothering me, John. I hope you know that, too."

"No, I'm not."

Her eyebrow lifted at the confidence he exuded in that reply. Her head turned so she could look at him. "How do you reckon?"

"Because ..." He paused and, in that moment, he smiled. "You're still sitting here."

She saw that glimmer in his eyes, too. "I'm still here because I was here first," she shortly replied.

"No, you're not." His other hand came up from behind the sofa and rested on the back of it, a few inches from Rogue's now completely bare shoulder. "If I were bothering you that much, you would've left. See ... you don't wanna leave." The lighter clicked again. "And you don't want me to leave."

Rogue gazed at him before a smile finally crossed her lips. "You know, John, I didn't think it was possible, but it is." In the next instant, the smile vanished. "You're more full of yourself than I originally thought." She started to rise to her feet, but before she could, each of his hands gripped her mid-section then he shoved her back down onto the sofa.

Rising a little, he leaned over the back of the sofa, so he could see her better. "Don't run away," he said, shaking his head. He held her gaze for a moment, watching her until he knew that she wouldn't bolt once he let her go. When her muscles relaxed, he half- smiled. "Told you that you didn't want to go."

She faced forward. She didn't want to admit that he was right, that she didn't want to leave. Suddenly, she jerked when she felt that cool piece of metal - his Zippo - graze over her right shoulder.

"Jumpy?" he asked.

"It's cold, stupid," she growled when she heard him laugh.

"Ah, it's not that cold. It's been in my hand." Lightly, he trailed the Zippo up her arm and he didn't stop until he reached her shoulder once more. He heard a soft sigh followed by her asking, "What are you doing?"

"Proving a point." The lighter changed hands. As gently as he had with her arm, he caressed the girl's cheek, all the way down the side of her neck until he stopped, just below her collarbone.

Her eyes had closed that time, even though she fought so hard to not let them. How that hunk of cheap metal could do that, make her feel like ... Something about the way it glided over her skin, barely touching, only enough to remind her that it was there. Almost as satisfying as the touch of another human being ... it'd been too long since that. She willed herself to forget it. Those days were behind her.

John noted how relaxed Rogue was, with her eyes closed, her head leaned back. While she was distracted with her own thoughts, he placed the lighter on the back of the sofa then draped his arms on either side of her again. Slowly, he allowed his hands to come closer and closer to her bare skin.

Eyes still closed, Rogue wondered why he'd stopped. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't pre-occupied with Logan or the ache of being unable to interact with Bobby the way she wanted to ... the way John could. As the words began to form on her lips, she felt that unmistakable charge when another's bare skin came into contact with her own.

Gasping, her eyes flew open and she shoved his hands away before she could harm him. Whirling around, she exclaimed, more loudly than she'd intended, "What the hell are you trying to do?!" She glanced from his hands to her arms. "Are you crazy? You know as well as anybody what I could do to you!"

"I know," he calmly replied, his hands held up between them, in a gesture of surrender. "You're not as untouchable as you'd like to think, Rogue." He shook his head when she started to protest. "And I've heard the sad tale of Cody; that's not what I'm talking about. You pull away from people even when there isn't any chance you could hurt someone."

"I do not!"

"You do." He lowered his hands, leaning towards her as he did so. "You were uncomfortable when I was only using - " He reached across her, forcing her to hold completely still as he picked up his lighter. He showed it to her. " - this," he finished.

After glaring at him a few seconds, she muttered, "I'm going to bed." She rose to her feet, but he cut off her escape path before she even cleared the sofa. Her stop was unusually abrupt. So little fabric separated her potentially deadly flesh from John's. "Get out of my way. Now."

"I know why you do it, too," he continued as though she'd said nothing. "You're not depressed that Logan left. You're relieved. You're probably wishin' he'd never come back."

"If you don't move," she warned as she pointed a finger in his face. "I'll make you sorry you ever came down here."

"You can't touch him, not how you'd like - " He saw the flash of anger in her eyes. " - and you know that's not what I meant by that. It's the same thing with Bobby. He tells me things, Rogue, and I see it, too. I'm sure you'd like him to follow Logan's lead and walk right out of that door." He side-stepped when she tried to get around him. "Don't deny it."

"Leave me alone!" She attempted to slip by him on the other side. With no fear of touching bare skin, John pushed her back. The tears burned in her eyes yet she refused to let them fall. She wouldn't cry because of him.

"It's why you hate me so goddamn much these days, too." When she tried to get by him again, he shoved her back so hard, she landed on the sofa. "Because I can do what you can't!"

One hand gripped the back of the sofa, keeping her in a semi-sitting position, while the other quickly brushed away the stray tears from her cheeks. During the months she'd known John, never had Rogue hated him as much as she did in that moment. Not because of what he'd done and not so much over what he'd said ... but the fact that he was right, that infuriated her.

"So what if I do?" she finally asked. Any previous enjoyment she'd taken from his unexpected visit to the rec room was a distant memory. "You figured it out. Do ya want an award?"

"No. I want you to stop hiding behind this shit. The three of us were doin' pretty well up until last month. You can have contact with people, Rogue. You're not pure fucking poison."

She laughed but there was no humor in it. "I can't touch him like you can," she reminded him, coldly.

"You can," he insisted. He moved closer as she sat up fully on the sofa. "You don't want him to. Just like you didn't want me to a minute ago."

"I ... I didn't want to hurt anyone, not even you," she quietly said.

"You hurt us more by avoiding us." He rested one knee on the sofa, the space between himself and her only a small distance. "I want to show you something, Rogue."

She watched as his lighter-free hand extended towards her. She shook her head when he came too close to touching her face. "Don't ... I'm not kidding. Don't." She made no move to push his hand away, however. Just for a moment, it wouldn't last longer than that. What harm would it do?

"You're not pulling away," he commented. His hand pressed, lightly at first, to her left cheek. The initial tingle didn't bother him. He'd experienced that sensation on more than one occasion. Beyond that, though, was the simple feel of her cool skin, and it wasn't any different than Bobby's.

On the other side of the contact, Rogue felt herself absorbing in the power, the memories, and the essence of the one touching her. He didn't make one sound, not even as the extended exposure to her skin drained more of himself into her. This was the longest she'd allowed anyone to have direct contact with her skin. Only Logan had John beat, and that was when he'd saved her life at Liberty Island. Then, she remembered what that had done to him.

Jerking back as she took in a sharp breath, she broke the connection between herself and John. Her eyes widened as he, almost in slow motion, fell forward. Quickly, she scooted back before he could fall onto her. Biting her lip, she looked upon him, laying there almost face down on the sofa. Swallowing hard, she shifted him onto his back then placed a hand to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. Relief washed over her when she found one - strong and steady.

"John," she whispered, shaking him lightly. "Please, don't die on us." She wondered if he was in a coma. Physiologically, he was different from Cody, but John certainly didn't have Logan's regenerative capabilities. "I'll get Dr. Grey." Before she could get up, she noticed him move. "John?" Leaning over, she looked down on him, concerned.

She knew she shouldn't have let him do it. Deep down, part of her wanted him to have killed himself, just so she could prove her point. She was untouchable. She hurt everyone.

His eyes half-opened. It was a struggle for him to focus on the face looming over him. He didn't need to see her to know it was Rogue.

"John." Her heart pounded faster in her chest when he stirred. A low murmur was his response. "Hang on. Lemme get Dr. Grey." She looked down when his fingers wrapped around the skirting of her nightgown. "You need help ... let go."

He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them. "I'll ... be ... fine," he weakly assured her. A noiseless laugh followed, along with one of those smirks. "Takes more ... than that ... to get rid ... of me, Rogue."

"Why did you do that?" she angrily whispered. Now more than ever, she was careful not to brush any bare skin against his. "Don't tell me it was to prove some stupid point, either."

"I did," he told her. His hand released her nightgown and his eyes opened wider as he focused on her. "You touched me. I'm ... not ... dead."

"Not yet anyway, you moron." She glanced at his empty hand to then gingerly brushed one of her own against her cheek where she'd touched him. Months of wanting nothing more than to kiss her boyfriend, of desiring the simplest touch that Bobby could exchange with John ... She had hid behind her own power, keeping everyone she wanted to touch far away, and hating some of them, too; it made it easier to deal with the pain.

"You don't ... hate us ... anymore?" he asked, his voice more sure than it was a few minutes before. Slowly, his body repaired the damage done. That's how it always was. Things didn't stay broken forever.

"No," she answered with a small smile. After a quick contemplation, she added, "I might hate you for a little longer, though. For your dumbass stunt tonight. I'll save that until later, when you're back to yourself."

He seized her by the gown again when she made a move to get up. "No. Leave Dr. Grey alone," he said. "I'll be fine ... after a little while." He let go of her. "Stay here."

With a nod, she sat back on the sofa and turned toward him, so she could keep a better watch over him. He may have believed himself to be indestructible but Rogue knew her power. She decided to let him rest a few minutes before she roused Jean. Until then, though, she would just watch him sleep.