Okay, here's my random X-Men movie verse story… Because let's be honest, Romy needs more attention in movie verse, age difference schmage difference.

Disclaimer: I in no way own this series. The Marvel company owns everything, I'm just dabbling.

P.S. Any guesses on my inspiration? You have until the last page break! :D

Perched in her favorite window, Rogue tucked a strand of white hair behind her ears as she watched the others goof off in the pool. Only a couple of months ago, she had been down there with them. The Cure had been a blessing, despite its consequences. Two years… She'd had two years where she had been able to be Marie again. Things with Bobby had tanked, as his habit of going after girls dangerous to his health had him chasing after Kitty till Piotr made it clear that she was spoken for, and now the green-haired beauty Lorna Dane, despite a tentative connection to Magneto and some sort of long-distance relationship with Alex Summers. Rogue hadn't been in any hurry to replace him. She had just enjoyed being with her friends, what few she had left that didn't consider her a traitor, being normal again.

Then she started having the nightmares again.

Having her bones laced with adamantium… Shoveling ashy remains in a concentration camp… She knew when she woke up what was happening. The two strongest voices had returned. Logan and Erik offered her comfort that first day, after a consultation with Hank. The next, she was strong enough to start replacing her wardrobe. Back came the long sleeves and gloves, the jeans and tall socks…

Her powers, however, weren't coming back in a rush like they had last time, as an accidental brush with Kitty proved before she had time to warn the phaser. She caught the girl's powers, for all of thirty seconds, and some unnamed anxieties, but nothing near what it should have been.

A talk with Ororo had the headmistress considering options. It had become Logan's and Ororo's theory that perhaps the Professor had been unable to help her with her powers because he himself had no experience with the sort based on touch. It was the weather witch who had mentioned having a friend who might be able to help. The Prince of Thieves, Remy Lebeau himself, had arrived two days later, all Cajun charm and cigarette smoke.

Gambit, however, had immediately set Logan on edge. Despite his claims to be her friend and not her father, it had still become a running joke to refer to the Wolverine as Rogue's daddy. He watched the pair carefully, especially "Gumbo," who seemed suspiciously familiar. He had been the one who noticed that after the first few days, he stopped disappearing at nights, similar to Logan's bar runs. The flirting with the other mansion girls had stopped beyond casual compliments and dirty jokes (as far as Logan could figure out, the boy's head was permanently in the gutter).

He wasn't the only one who changed. Rogue's almost Goth make-up, a defense against letting people close, had mellowed out when she got the Cure, and then never made a resurgence with her powers. Her hugs with Logan and Ororo stayed the same, but the others suddenly found themselves at arm's length, at the least…except her new teacher. He wormed his way close to her, constantly touching her with (gloved) fingers. At first, she smacked him and tried to drive him off, but Logan growled when he first noticed she stopped fighting him.

It was when he caught the two kissing last week that he realized student-teacher did not apply to their relationship as much as they acted like. Gambit had found himself driven off with threats of being turned into shish kabobs.

Rogue snickered. It took hours for Ororo to calm him down, and then days for her to forgive him for being rude to the man she considered family.

A sound in the doorway, the familiar heavy stomp, made her look over. Sure enough, the Wolverine was leaning there, looking uncomfortable but trying to hide it. "I know you're still mad at me," he said with a sigh.

"'Ro lettin' yah sleep in yah own bed yet?" she snipped back.

"Marie, that boy is trouble—" Logan started in a rumble.

"That 'boy' is almost forty," she argued, standing up so she didn't feel so much like a child being scolded.

"Not helping your case, darlin'," he pointed out, obviously refusing to be drawn into (another) fight with her over this. "Listen, he ain't worth a lick—" He cut himself off and scowled at her when she flashed him a wicked grin. "And he's corrupting you."

"Ah was already corrupted. Ah hang out with you, remember?"

Shaking his head, Logan couldn't help but chuckle. However, as he walked off, he said, "You still ain't allowed to see him."

"Logan!"

"No."

Taking a page from his psyche, Rogue growled and sat down again with a huff. Stupid badger, tell me what I can and cannot do… she mentally grumbled. Some of the other psyches started snickering, while Logan grumbled as well over the hated nickname. It was small comfort.

Parking his bike at the corner of the Institute, still out of range of the front gates' security cameras, Remy checked his watch to see the time. Just before dinner, meaning after Logan's evening patrol but before his chére was surrounded by well-meaning friends.

A slight smile tugged at his mouth as he considered the fence in front of him. His chére was also probably about willing to tell them all to go to hell, if he had an inkling into how her temper was right now. Normal people were afraid of that Southern fire, having suffered from its burn one time too many.

He reveled in it.

And with that happy thought to hold, he scurried his way on over that wall before he got himself into trouble…well, more of it anyway.

So he was about twenty years her senior… She was nineteen, and past the age of consent it shouldn't matter, should it? So maybe he was a thief and she still managed to stay on the clean side of the law… She had the makings of good thief herself, if she ever wanted to be one, and she still kept up with him pretty well as it was without training. And maybe he had been a bit of a womanizer since that whole mess with Bella… Rogue knew all about the exile by now, and he had lain off the flirting as much as he physically could since he started pursuing her, and the rest of the time it was just as bad a habit as his smoking.

As far as he could tell, something had lodged itself up Monsieur Claw's ass over what was, over all, an acceptable enough relationship.

Maybe it was because he was the girl's figurative "daddy" according to mansion rumormongers? Turing his head to the side, he pondered as he climbed up to Rogue's favorite perch, a window in the library.

He grinned when he looked inside. Well look who was just starting to walk out… Knocking on the glass, he hissed, "Chére."

Her head whipped around, sending those snowy strands to tangle in the chestnut. The smile on her face instantly was his attention, the relief obvious in both it and her eyes as she darted forward to unlock the window.

"Ready for our secret rendez-vous, Roguey?" he asked with a smug smile.

She leaned forward, tantalizingly close. Her powers are working, her powers are working, he reminded himself. They had only just gotten a grasp on them when he was kicked out by Logan's hissy-fit. Kissing her now, when she hadn't had anyone to help her practice, was not an option… But oh, how he wanted to…

…and oh, how did she know it, as she purposefully stayed in easy reach. "Well, Ah don' know," she drawled, her accent thickening like it always did in his presence. "Where yah plannin' on takin' me?"

"A li'l fine food, a li'l film…" he informed her with a casual shrug, offering her a hand. She seemed to consider it, but that smile said it all. "Come on now, chére," he coaxed, "before your pére comes along an' t'rows poor ol' Gambit off an' into de bushes."

"He ain't my daddy, and he won' throw yah into the bushes," she said back with a soft laugh. "Just cut yah up a little."

"Roguey," he whined, trying to give her the puppy eyes.

She laughed louder, but finally took his hand. "You are goin' to get me in so much trouble," she sighed.

"Mais oui, chérie," he said cheekily, helping her down the building.

The motorcycle had been parked, and he led her into the park where a large screen had been set up. Remy had picked up that Rogue would not appreciate being among the crowd, so he had an old blanket spread out under an oak tree, far enough off that they were separated from the other couples but still close enough to see the screen and hear what was going on.

Never mind that neither of them were paying any attention to it.

He had his back against the tree, his arms around her waist from where she lay between his legs. She had her hands over his, playing with his gloved fingers as she stared up at the night sky in thought. He rested his chin where he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo. She had been so tense when he first got them situated… Damn Logan, couldn't that old badger see that she needed someone to touch her like they would normally, besides him and Stormy. Too many people avoided her or she successfully pushed them away.

"Remy…?"

"Hmm?"

She twisted in his arms, making it easier for her to rest her head against his shoulder. He smiled, relieved she had finally relaxed enough that she was cuddling with him like she used to before Logan popped their bubble. "Yah mentioned food, swamp rat…" she reminded him.

Sighing, he said, "Oui, oui, of course, ma chére…" Dieu, protect whoever got between Rogue and her food… He shouldn't complain, he had bugged her for ages about eating more since her powers were always active, but still, he should have given her patience lessons too.

As if on cue, the movie credits started rolling. "And wit' dat, how about we go on down to dat diner you like so much?" he suggested, standing and offering her a hand up.

"Chocolate milkshake?" she confirmed, as she let him pull her to her feet.

"Oui, mais, you gotta share dis time, chére."

"Awww, did poor li'l Gambit not get any last time?"

"Non, Remy didn'. Ma fille wouldn' let Remy have even un peu bit."

"Yah stole a sip anyway!"

"No proof, t'ough, right?"

"Remy!"

Chuckling, Remy gave Rogue a quick peck, enough to make him lightheaded without causing any real harm. All Rogue got were a few sparks of magenta around her fingertips. She whipped her head around, eyes wide before narrowing in a glare. He just grinned at her, completely unrepentant. Shaking her head, she sighed and muttered, "Ah am so swiping some of your fries for that…" before stalking off towards the bike.

"Rogue!" he protested as he went after her. He was laughing inside, though. Chasing after a femme… This would shock his brother, and make his father mock him.

True enough, Rogue did take some of his fries, but at least this time he did manage to get some of her shake. They had spent most of supper bickering, though not much over the film they hadn't watched. Now, as they walked out, Rogue noticed Remy had been quiet for the past few minutes… Not necessarily odd, in the sense that he could be quiet, but odd in the fact he was normally flirting up a storm… Especially when she says three things that can be taken dirty, yet he lets them pass…

"Remy, sug?" she inquired carefully, "Are you okay?"

"Oui… Chére, Remy…" he started, but then shook his head and they kept walking. It wasn't until they were almost back to the bike that Rogue noticed something was on her left hand, over her glove. Looking down, more out of curiosity than anything, she blinked and brought her had up to her face.

Antique, obviously French if she knew her boyfriend, and with more diamonds than she could even think of… And on her left ring finger…

"It was ma mére's…" he admitted softly, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders so he could look as well. "Henri wanted de old ring, de one dat ran in de famille… But ma pére, he wanted somet'ing different for ma mére to wear every day… If you want anot'er, Remy could—"

Rogue cut him off. "It's perfect. But Remy, my powers…"

"We'll keep workin' on dem, chére. You've already made more progress wit' Remy than you did wit' your professeur," he assured her, his passion reminding her how eager she had been to finally get control. "And even if you never got control… I love you, Marie…"

Swallowing, Rogue took in the facts… He said it in English, in first person, and he used the name she told him that he politely refrained from using since it made her uncomfortable around others she hadn't told it to. There was no way he was lying to her… And it was his mother's ring…

Gripping one of his hands tightly in hers, she faced him with a serious expression.

Logan paced the entry hall, a growl rumbling in his throat. A glance at the grandfather clock said it was almost half-past midnight. He had gone to the library to track down Rogue when she didn't show up for supper, and an open window with both her and Gumbo's scents had told the story despite their absence. As much as he had wanted to go track them down, Ororo had been the voice of reason and reminded him that as understaffed as she was, he needed to be at the mass meals.

So now he was stuck waiting for whenever they decided to get their asses through the front…

Wait a minute. Logan stopped his pacing and started cursing. He passed Ororo on the way up the stairs.

"Logan?" she called after him, obviously concerned.

"Since when does he use the front door?" he snarled back, heading straight for library once more.

"Oh Goddess…" Ororo muttered in annoyance and took off after him at a much more sedate pace.

Sure enough, Logan's nose caught the familiar French cologne, smoke, and spices mixing with roses, magnolias, and leather, much more recently than before.

Slamming the door open without bothering to knock, Logan growled and let out the claws in one hand. The Cajun thief had been wrapped around the kid, but was already pulling away, most likely to run. Before he had so much of a chance, the Wolverine had a handful of jacket, yanking him back and throwing him against a wall.

"Logan, stop!" Rogue demanded, her voice higher pitched and loud in her panic.

"Go to your room, Rogue," he ordered over his shoulder before turning his attention to the strangely not-struggling thief in hand. Metal claws were soon pressed against his throat to warn him not to start. "Gumbo and I need to have a little talk."

"Logan!" Ororo called as she walked to the library.

"Ro! Ro, hurry, he won't listen!" Rogue replied, her tone saying exactly how afraid she was. Ororo sprinted the last few steps to the grand doors as the younger girl continued, "I think he may kill 'em this time!"

That put a strike of fear into the weather witch's heart. Inside, Rogue seemed to have the right to be afraid. Logan wasn't even asking questions, just waiting for Remy to say the wrong thing or move the wrong way.

Remy wasn't baiting him like he normally would.

Twisting her head for a brief look at Rogue, she caught the girl playing with a ring…

Her eyes widened as she whipped her head around to see Remy looking at her pleadingly over Logan's shoulder. It took a moment, but her flabbergasted mind finally caught up with it, and she said, "Logan, put him down. Now."

He growled in disagreement, if anything pushing harder against Remy's throat.

"Logan, get a hold of your temper, put him down, and listen."

"Logan, please," Rogue added in, obviously upset but not sure what to do.

Ororo wasn't sure which was the one that nudged him in the right direction, but he finally did pull his claws back into his hand. Roughly, probably more roughly than necessary, he pushed the Cajun over to a couch, making him sit before he walked off to start pacing.

Rogue had instantly gone to Remy's side, and she knew she would take care of him. Instead, Ororo focused on talking sense into the Wolverine in a rage. Standing in his way of his pacing, she forced him to meet her in the eyes. "You know, it wasn't so long ago that we were catching flack," she started by reminded him.

Logan gave her a look that could have peeled paint.

"Well, let's see… They thought you were too wild for me, that you were trying to replace Jean, that there was no way you would settle down to stay here…" She trailed off, as she saw the cogs finally start working. "They were wrong about you. You've stayed, you've made the school your home. Don't you think you're wrong about Remy?"

He had stopped pacing, but he didn't confirm she was right either. Looking over at the couch, she smiled and, grabbing his chin, forced him to look too.

Rogue was curled up against Remy's side, obviously still assuring herself he was all right. One of his hands was tangled in her hair, as he murmured to her soothingly. Her left hand was caught in his right, as he ran his thumb over her ring, the one Ororo recognized as the one that belonged to his mother.

Logan scowled, but before he had time to really react, Rogue looked up at Remy with a look on her face that made him pause.

Ororo nodded when he looked back at her. "They look like we do," she said the obvious, to make him face it.

Swallowing, Logan sighed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly. "I guess…" Blowing out a puff of air, he admitted it himself, "She's in love with the boy…"

The ring:

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And with that, I am done for now. Here you go, enjoy, and please leave me a review!