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Threw You the Obvious

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Summary: Rogue goes to Wolfram and Hart for help in controlling her powers. Secret Santa fic for Ardere.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Spike-CenteredArieannaFR1315,026072,30720 Dec 0320 Dec 03Yes
Title: Threw You the Obvious

Author: Arieanna (

Rated: PG 13

Pairing: Spike/Rogue

Disclaimer: All things belonging to Angel are property of Joss Whedon et al. All things belonging to X-Men belong to Marvel, et al. Songs belong to Nirvana and A Perfect Circle, respectively.

Distribution: All the usual suspects. Plus, want, take have! Just let me know.

Summary: Secret Santa fic for Ardere (aka Shellie)

Spoilers: Season 5 for Angel, X-Men 2 for X-Men.

A/N: I’ve never written an X-Men fic before, so I hope that I get it right. I hope that it turns out to be a good present.

The title is from the song 3 Libras, by A Perfect Circle. The song just spoke to me and gave my muses the end of the fic.

I will never bother you
I will never promise to
I will never follow you
I will never bother you
Never speak a word again
I will crawl away for good

The music washed over her, seeming to fit her mood. She had the song on an endless loop in the background as she stared out the window of her room to the city below, thinking of her room in New York. The most that she’d see from there would have been the yard at the school. Plus, her roommate wouldn’t be loving the Nirvana. “Nirvana is so nineties, Rogue!!” she could imagine Kitty saying.

Here there was no one to tell her not to listen to the band, to not listen to the same song over and over. And the view. There was much more to see here than the basketball court and some trees. In fact, from the vantage point in her room, she felt like she was looking down on all of Los Angeles. The building was high, the view encompassing most of the city. It really was a vast improvement. A far superior room then the one back at the Xavier Institute. So why was it that she felt like something was missing?

"Because it’s Christmas,” a low voice that sounded suspiciously like Bobby whispered through her head. “Christmas is just unnatural without snow.”

She had pointed out to him once that she was from the south, and they had never had snow at Christmas. He had pointed out that as long as she was with him, she would always have snow for Christmas. All he would have to do to do that for her would be to wave his hand. How she had wanted to kiss him for that sentiment.

Of course, she couldn’t. If only she had remembered that, she would still be in New York. If only she had remembered, she’d still be standing beside him. He’d be here to make snow for her.

But she wasn’t.

And there wasn’t any snow.

I will move away from here
You won't be afraid of fear
No thought was put into this
I always knew it would come to this
Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to fail

The day was forever etched in her memory. Bobby had changed, becoming determined to push the limits of her powers. He’d been content enough to give her time, to be patient. And then Logan had come home, and he had made that comment when she had introduced Bobby as her boyfriend. It was that, Rogue believed, that had triggered his desire to push the envelope.

They had managed to kiss a couple of times, with no more lasting effects from it than an exhalation of frozen air from her. But Bobby was a teenaged boy, and forever wanting more. He wasn’t satisfied with a couple of chaste kisses. He wanted more of her, wanted to show her that he loved her. And it had nearly cost him his life.

It had been eerily similar to her first kiss. The boy struggling for breath. Her screaming. People running to the rescue. Her huddled into the corner, not allowing people to touch her.

The after was vastly different, though. Bobby hadn’t been as bad off, having the constitution of a mutant to thank for a quick recovery. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together after that, at her insistence. She had needed her space.

And boy had Bobby ever given it to her.

She couldn’t remember how long it had been, really. The days had just begun to blur together for her. Rogue had withdrawn into herself. And it had only gotten worse when Logan had gone off again. She barely spoke, never left the institute.

Then one day she turned a corner and discovered why it had been so easy for Bobby to give her the space she had asked for. After all, it gave him the space to be wrapped up in the arms of Jubilee, his lips fused to hers.

Rogue had turned and ran. The new couple had been so wrapped up in each other that they had never even known she had been there. It was at that moment that she told herself that she would never, ever, allow herself to care for someone. After all, she would never be able to demonstrate it, and that would just drive them away in the end, just as it had done with Bobby.

You know you're right
You know you're right
You know you're right

She ran straight to the professor. She couldn’t do this anymore. Wasn’t this place supposed to teach a mutant to control their powers? Rogue slammed into his office without even knocking, interrupting a meeting with some of the others. The girl didn’t care. Her hair had come loose, the two white stripes, permanent reminders of her encounter with Magneto, hanging into her eyes. From those eyes poured the tears that contained the fragments of her shattered heart.

"Professor, you have to help me!” She collapsed to her knees, the strength she had used to hide for so long gone in an instant.

It was slowly driving her mad, she had told him, her inability to control her powers. She was living her life without human contact. The simple touches, handshakes, hugs that others took for granted were as far away from her reach as the moon and the stars. She was starving for the touch of others. And it was beginning to push her over the edge.

The professor didn’t know how to help her. But he promised that he would search until he found something, or someone that could.

And one day he did. That’s why she was here. That’s why she was staring down from a window high above the streets of L.A. Living in one of the guest apartments of a law firm called Wolfram and Hart.

Rogue had thought the professor had lost his mind when he suggested that a law firm might be able to give her the means to control her powers. What could lawyers have to do with it? But Professor Xavier had asked her to trust him, and she did.

When she met the people that ran Wolfram and Hart she began to understand. After all, they had a science department. And if that had seemed weird to her at first, it was nothing compared to when she was told why they thought that they could help her. Any lab that was run by Winifred Burkle should be able to find a way to have her touch someone without sucking their life force out of them.

It's so warm and calm inside
I no longer have to hide
Let's talk about someone else
Steaming soup begins to melt
Nothin' really bothers her
She just wants to love herself

Coming to L.A. had changed Rogue’s whole outlook on life. She had thought that she knew it all. Knew all the surprises that the world contained. She had thought that being the instrument of a madman, the means to execute his plan to change the world had shown her the strangest that the world had to offer.

She was wrong.

The scientist that the professor had heard of, the one that he had contacted to see if there was any way to help Rogue with her powers, she knew about the secrets the earth held. Mutants were only the tip of the iceberg.

Winifred Burkle had made quite a name for herself in the science world. Science had always held a particular fascination for Professor Xavier. And when he had read her article, “Supersymmetry and P-dimensional Subspace”, he had called her, hoping that the idea of helping to control the powers of a mutant wouldn’t be too unusual an idea for her to handle.

Rogue was sure that the professor had no idea about the truth. She doubted that he would have sent her here if he did.

Fred was willing to help a mutant with her problem, “No Rogue, not problem, never problem” the voice of the professor that lived in her head reminded her insistently, because to Fred, mutants were at the normal end of the strangeness scale.

After all, Fred ran a lab, in a law firm. A lab that had once recorporialized a ghost. Something that Fred had tried to do to help Spike. Spike had died saving the world. From the First Evil. Oh, and he was the grandchilde of Angel, the man who now ran Wolfram and Hart. Which made that man not a man at all, but a vampire.

Of course, she didn’t find that out all at once. But they had thought it prudent to warn her early on of the secrets that she might stumble across living in the building that housed the law offices of Wolfram and Hart.

That, and she had managed to find herself in Lorne’s office shortly after her arrival in L.A.

Once they explained Lorne, the rest didn’t seem all that strange to her, she guessed. She had slowly adjusted.

Rogue couldn’t help but find that she was comfortable with these people. After all, they were the first people who had ever truly understood. Even living with other mutants, they had never understood why it was so hard for her to accept her mutation as a gift. After all, that’s what they were taught at The Xavier Institute, that their powers were a gift. Not a curse, never a curse, not even when they could kill. Not even when that was all that she could do with them.

I will move away from here
You won't be afraid of fear
No thought was put into this
I always knew it would come to this
Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to fail

But here, here they understood why she would feel that it was a curse. Why her heart would ache at the pain of it all. After all, they had experience with the subject. After all, they knew Gwen.

Meeting Gwen, it had taken so much weight off of Rogue’s heart. Finally, someone who knew, someone who had been there, someone whose heart ached with the same pain.

Gwen also had a mutation that made it impossible to touch anyone with her bare skin without hurting them, without killing them.

But science had given her hope. Science had given her control. Science had given her the opportunity for human contact.

With Fred’s help, science just might be able to give Rogue the same chance.

Spending that long afternoon talking to Gwen had given Rogue something that she had thought that she had lost forever. Hope.

You know you're right
You know you're right
You know you're right

And what had Rogue done with that hope? She had gotten carried away. She had forgotten that it might take Fred months, even years to build a device that controlled her powers, a device such as Gwen had.

Rogue had been so reassured, seeing Gwen do something so simple as take Gunn’s hand when he had come to say hello, that she had gone and done something that she had promised herself that she would never do. She had gone and lost her heart.

He had been annoying, at first. The vampire with the soul. No, not the one that was CEO of Wolfram and Hart. The other one, the one that Fred had done so much research for, to bring him back from the spectral plane. Of course, he had come back through no means of theirs, but he was back all the same.

And annoying. Always pestering Rogue because she was the only one that, like him, seemed to take up space but not really contribute in the day to day running of the business. The one that just was.

The peroxide blonde figured that she was a good way to alleviate his boredom.

What had annoyed her at first about him had become endearing. He refused to let her sit around and feel sorry for herself. He constantly pestered her to join him in causing some trouble. When she didn’t feel up for that, he would regale her with tales from his life. Times when he had caused destruction and mayhem. Or he would brag to her about his sacrifice, the one where he had given his life, or unlife, as it were, in order to save the planet.

Or, on rare occasions, and somehow knowing when it was that she needed him to do it, he would just listen.

The listening had started once when he had asked her what had caused the stripes in her hair. And she had told him what had happened to her. She still didn’t know why she had trusted him with that, but after, when he had told her about Dawn, and how people always used the strong ones to suit their own purposes, she had been glad.

And when he had told her how hard he had tried to keep that from happening to Dawn, when he told her of the sacrifices he had made to protect the girl, and how, if he had been there, he would have done the same for her with Magneto, she had lost her heart to him.

But the reasons that she had had for pulling away from Bobby still applied. She had been in L.A, for months, falling in love with Spike a little more each day. Her day would not be complete without a bit of him in it. But she still did not have control over her mutation.

Besides, she had no reason to believe that he cared for her.

She still could not allow herself to care for someone. Because she could never express it without killing the person that she cared for the most. She was not free to love anyone. Rogue leaned her forehead against the glass, willing the tears away, willing the pain to recede. But she didn’t think that it ever would.


Spike found himself wandering around Wolfram and Hart, looking for someone to antagonize. It was the way he spent most days. Well, either annoying Angel, which he was extremely fond of doing, or seeking out the company of Rogue.

Rogue. What was there to say about her?

He had never thought that it would happen to him again. He had thought, at the moment when Buffy had lied to him, to try to give him one last shining moment before he combusted into dust, that at least he would never again hand over his heart to a woman who wouldn’t value it. To a woman who wouldn’t want it.

How wrong he had been.

Threw you the obvious
And you flew with it on your back
A name in your recollection
Down among a million, say:
Difficult enough to feel a little bit
Disappointed, passed over.
When I've looked right through,
To see you naked and oblivious
and you don't see me

But he wouldn’t do it again. He wouldn’t just stand by and let it happen again.

Spike thought that he could see it sometimes, her heart reflected in her eyes, her soul filled with the love that she had for him. The same love that filled his own soul so much that it almost made his undead heart beat.

But she was holding something back, his beautiful Rogue. She had strength, his perfect girl. The kind that Buffy had had to have because of her destiny. The kind of strength that saves the world, that saves lives. Buffy had needed to find it because it was her fate. Rogue just had it because that was who she was. She could not let other people get hurt.

It was why she was here, after all. She had come here, to exile herself from all the people that she cared about, so that she would not hurt them anymore.

But in closing herself off, she was hurting herself. She was practically killing herself.

Spike had known that Buffy didn’t love him, even when she had proclaimed it.

And now, even though she had never said it to him, he was fairly certain that Rogue loved him. Now he just needed to make her admit it.


Rogue wiped a bare hand under her eyes, determined not to cry anymore. Her hands were free of the gloves that she always wore to protect others. She hated wearing them, and took them off whenever she was alone. But she would put them back on when she left the room, determined not to hurt anyone with her mutation.

That’s why she had to stop her tears. She had to seal her heart, to keep the love she felt for Spike forever to herself.

What she had felt for Bobby had been but a glimmer of the river of emotions she felt now for the bleached blonde. There was no way that she would ever let herself do to him what she had done to Bobby.

She would never have been able to live through it if she did.

But it would be easier this time, to stay away from Spike. Easier than it had been keeping her distance from Bobby. Bobby had wanted to kiss her. And Spike, well, she had never had any indication that he thought of her as anything other than a distraction.

It made it all that much easier to keep her heart to herself.

Rogue was so intent on staring down at the city, on a day that was bright, and sunny, and the complete antithesis to her mood that she didn’t hear the door open. She didn’t hear him sneak over and turn off her Nirvana. In fact, she was so wrapped up in her own sadness that she didn’t even notice the change until the second verse of the song. And only then did she notice because he had come up beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

She had always been overly aware of bodily contact. Especially after her mutation had made itself known.

She jumped away from his hand as if she had been burned, looked up at him as if she wanted to run from him screaming.

Well, I threw you the obvious
Just to see if there’s more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy.

He reached out to grab her shoulders, not allowing her to run away. He was careful to only touch somewhere where the cloth of her shirt would be between them, as a consideration to her feelings. As much as she couldn’t touch, she didn’t like to be touched, either. After all, she would never be able to hurt him, yet she never touched his skin. He forced her to look up at him, and he saw the pain that filled her hazel orbs, saw the emotions she had been trying to hide for the past weeks shine through in her eyes.

Here I am, expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see,
See through it all,
See through,
And see you

And as she struggled within his grasp, futile as that was, the realization came upon him suddenly. He could see her love shining in the hazel that he had always wanted to drown in, and he knew.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. It was that she was afraid of hurting him. Afraid of hurting him as she had hurt the others. The way she had hurt anyone that she had ever cared for, anyone that she had ever kissed. She didn’t realize that she couldn’t.

There was something else there, too, hiding in her eyes, but she pulled to get away from him again before he could decipher it. This time he let her go, his mind trying to puzzle out the last thing that he had seen in her gaze.

Well, oh well,

Apparently nothing,
Apparently nothing at all

He was about to reach out and turn her face towards him, regardless of her feelings on touching, when her words halted his movements.

"Don’t touch me!”

He let his hand drop. She turned towards the window, eyes widening as if she had just realized something. She swung back towards him and made as if to shove him from the sunlight pouring through the windows, but she noticed that he was only wearing a t-shirt today, and that his arms were bare, as were her hands, and she clasped them suddenly back to herself.

“Spike!! Get the hell out of the sun!!”

All that her loud exclamation succeeded in doing was drawing him closer to the window. He laid his hand flat upon the glass, enjoying the warmth that he could feel through it. One of the few benefits of hanging out at Wolfram and Hart. Well, that and the beauty beside him.

“Necro-tempered glass, pet. How easily you forget. They made the building vampire friendly for the great poof.”

He looked at her hands, now buried in her crossed arms, as if she was afraid to touch him. He looked back up into her beautiful, glowing eyes, tracks beneath them from the tears he could still smell drying on her cheeks. And he knew, in a sudden flash of understanding, what he had seen in them before.

Fear. She had her arms crossed in fear. She was afraid to touch him.

And it wasn’t just because she was afraid to hurt him, even though that fear was present in spades. She was afraid of what it would mean when she touched him, if she could touch without it killing. Rogue was afraid that if she touched him, he’d be able to feel her love, and her desire. And that it would be completely one sided.

How could she not see his heart in his eyes? He felt that it was clear enough for the entire world to see, every time he gazed at her, how much he loved her.

You don’t
You don’t
You don’t see me
You don’t
You don’t
You don’t see me . . . .

He reached out to trail a figure down her cheek, his vampire reflexes allowing him to complete the movement before she could stop him. Still, she put up a hand to push his arm away, forgetting that she wasn’t wearing her gloves, and her bared hand touched his skin.

She felt the tingles crawl up her back, slide down her spine, curl her toes. And she expected to feel the familiar tug of her mutation at any second, but she didn’t.

Spike grabbed her hand, his other coming up to caress the skin on the other side of her face, to give it the same attention as the one he had just wiped the tears from.

The vampire looked into her eyes, saw the surprise in them that the touch of her bare skin was doing nothing more to him that to cause him to tingle in that oh so delicious way, the way you do when you touch the one you love. Then, as he saw the realization fully dawn on her that she could touch his skin, could lay her skin against his, her naked skin, he saw the joy fill her eyes.

He leaned close to her, his lips a breath away. He looked deep into her eyes, letting all the love that he felt for her shine in his own blueness. “It seems that you forget a lot of things, my sweet Marie.” He twined the fingers of his one hand with her own, while the other caressed circles in the tear tracks on her cheek. “Your mutation, it steels the life force of others, right?” Spike leaned his cool forehead against her overly warm one, felt her nod. “Well,” he whispered, as he brought their intertwined hands up to his chest, and laid her palm over his heart, “you forget. I don’t have a life. I don’t have a heartbeat. I don’t have a life force for you to steal.” He pressed his lips softly against hers, knowing now why she was holding back, and knowing that it was an obstacle that he could easily overcome, that he had just made it half way there. There was only one wall left to knock down.

Her belief that he didn’t return her feelings.

He pulled away just a bit, so that he could look into her eyes while he held her hand still over his unbeating heart. “The only thing that you could steal from me, my darling Rogue, is my heart. But I fear that you have that already.”

He kissed her then, and it was a kiss such as she had never been able to have before. His lips, cool and soft, started by caressing hers slowly, while he touched her face, his bare hands on her bare skin. He used his touch to turn her head, to open her lips to him. Spike’s tongue slid inside her mouth, this kiss already the longest kiss of Rogue’s life. The first sweep of his tongue against hers shot tingles through her body, and curled her toes. It was not enough. She wanted to feel him, feel more of him. Feel all of him.

She tentatively put her arms around his waist, her hands pulling the shirt from the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers crept under the soft material, her touch seeking out his now bared back. She was still reluctant to touch him, still scared that she could hurt him, but she couldn’t will her hands to stop their exploration.

Spike pulled Rogue tighter against him when her fingers caressed his spine. He had not intended anything to go this far, at least not this fast. All he had wanted to do was to show her that he loved her, to stop her fears. But her fingers were slowly becoming aggressive, her tongue becoming more bold. He could not pull himself away.

Rogue knew that this was going very fast. It was only their first kiss. Well, second, she guessed. He had, after all, softly brushed his lips against hers while they spoke. But she didn’t want it to end. She never wanted it to end. She wanted to relish the feel of him. She wanted to touch all of his skin, in case it was a dream, and she never got to do it again.

"Spike,” she moaned softly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and dragging it over his head. Feeling her movements, his hands strayed from her face to the buttons on her blouse, undoing them one at a time, caressing all of her skin as it came into view, pulling his lips away from hers to kiss her revealed collarbone.

The vampire started walking them back towards the bed of her room, as his tongue caressed her skin. He pulled away from her abruptly, knowing that he had to stop now, or he would not be able to walk away from this. He would not be able to leave the room. He would not be able to leave her.

Her head snapped up in surprise as she felt him move away, saddened at the loss of contact as he pulled away from her completely. She looked into his blue eyes, surprise filling her own. “Have I done something wrong, Spike?”

He went to caress her face, stopped himself, knowing that if he touched her again that he would be lost.

"No, pet, you were doing everything just right.” He took a deep, unneeded breath in order to steady himself. “It’s just that, if I don’t stop now, I won’t stop. And it’s too fast for you.” He turned to pick up his shirt from where she had tossed it on the floor.

Her hand on his spine halted his movements. He straightened and turned back towards her.

"It’s not, Spike. It’s what I want. Now that I know that I can touch you, I want to touch all of you.” Her hands made quick work of the remaining fastened buttons on her shirt, and it fluttered unheeded to the floor behind her. “Oh how I’ve wanted to touch you, wanted to kiss you. Feels like I always have.”

She had barely finished speaking when Spike’s lips were once again fused to her again, his hands caressing all of the skin of her bared torso.

“I want you Spike. I love you, and I want you.”

They didn’t speak again for a long while.


It was dark by the time they were done exploring each other’s skin. They lay, naked and intertwined, looking out at the lights as the city prepared for the coming night.

They had made love all day, finally being able to physically express the feelings that they had kept to themselves for so long.

"So, how come you never touched me before today?” she asked him, gazing lovingly into his eyes.

“I thought you knew you couldn’t hurt me. I figured the poof would have pointed out that your touch didn’t affect us. I just thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

She laughed at that. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“The only thing that hurt me was thinking that you didn’t care for me.” He kissed her deeply, pulling her tighter against him.

“Well, I’ve never loved anyone more in my life. You’re my heart, Spike.”

She curled against him, her eyes drifting shut, a content smile on her face. The day had ended so much different than she had expected.

Christmas without snow would be memorable just the same. For she had found something far more important. She had found love.


Merry Christmas, Ardere! Hope you enjoyed your prezzie.

The End

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