Intolerable

"Oh. It's you."

Rogue glared fiercely at Magneto as she walked into the kitchen, carrying her plate to the sink. It was late, nearly two in the morning. Why did he have to be in here, of all people?

Rogue knew that the others thought Magneto was some kind of good guy now that Apocalypse was old news. She didn't really agree with that idea, so she tried to spend as little time around their former enemy as possible. Because then maybe she wouldn't be so tempted to try and hurt him.

She was still pissed at him for that little incident over Christmas break last year when she'd gone with Scott to find Angel in New York. Everyone was so quick to accept Magneto around here that she wondered if they'd all forgotten that. She'd expected Kurt to forgive Magneto—after all, she'd seen first hand that Kurt couldn't hold a decent grudge to save his life—but some of the others? Jean? Scott? The Professor? It sort of hurt her brain.

Kitty thought Rogue was being unfair, and just that morning had told her roommate she should give Magneto a chance. People change, Rogue.

Rogue told Kitty that when someone threw her into a building and tried to kill her with a large slab of metal, then they could talk about. Besides, Rogue wasn't too good at forgiveness, didn't everyone know that by now?

"It's late, Rogue. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

Rogue really, really hated it when he tried to pretend like he was some kind of authority figure around here. She barely tolerated it from the Professor, so bucket-head was lucky she didn't go after him with her gloves off when he tried it. Which, thankfully, wasn't often.

"Shouldn't you be minding your own business?" She rinsed her bowl out and tried to ignore him standing next to her as she lathered up the sponge and began viciously attacking the spoon with it.

At least he didn't run around the mansion in that stupid cape and helmet, or else she'd really have to just laugh. He looked pretty normal in his black shirt and pants, which made his hair look very white, and if he weren't evil she might think he was a good looking man.

Of course she didn't think that.

She'd never really noticed how much he looked like Pietro until she saw him dressed in normal clothes. That didn't help to make her like him at all, though, because Pietro was such an ass.

"You don't like me much, do you?"

Rogue dropped the bowl in the sink and stared at him, incredulous. His light blue eyes looked very amused. "Gee, you think? I mean, I'm real glad you helped us with Apocalypse and all, but I guess I'm a little wary since you tried to kill me."

Magneto shrugged and waved his hand. "I'm very sorry about that, Rogue, but I figured the young man with the wings would save you. A distraction technique, you understand, so that I could get away. I had plenty of other opportunities to kill you, and I didn't. Surely that means something?"

"Is that supposed to be, what? Reassuring?" She stared up at him challengingly. "Look, Magneto. You might have fooled everyone else around here into thinking you're harmless, but I know better, okay?"

"Do you?" He moved a little closer to her, which made her immediately nervous. "And who thinks I am harmless? I'm afraid that might offend me."

"Okay, so maybe harmless ain't the right word. How about reformed? I touched you a few times, remember, got your mind up here?" She tapped the side of her head with a gloved finger. "You're just here at the mansion until you figure out what to do next, and the Professor's too naïve to realize it."

That last bit was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

He quirked a brow at her. "Oh? You think so, do you?" He smiled. "That's not a very flattering thing to say about my old friend and our gracious host. Your teacher, and…guardian, isn't he, as well?"

"I'm seventeen," Rogue snapped, annoyed. "I don't need a guardian. I don't need anyone," she said hotly. "I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," Magneto said blandly, and levitated her spoon out of the sink. "You've washed this four times, don't you think it's clean by now?"

"Argh!" Rogue slammed her gloved hand down on the sink, hating that he could make her so mad. "Why are you tryin' to infuriate me?"

"Possibly because it's so very easy," Magneto answered, smirking. He had a really deep voice, which would have been nice if he wasn't…Magneto. She dried her bowl and put it away in the cabinet as he continued speaking. "So it's because of New York that you hate me, is it?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "Look. I think you're evil and arrogant and really, really annoying. You don't care about other people, you don't really want to be here, you're just waiting for a time when you can leave and you'll probably try and take half of us with you for some new stupid army. Oh, and I wouldn't put it past you to try and steal the Blackbird." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him—he was very tall. "That about cover it for you?"

Magneto's eyes flashed, and he moved suddenly to pin her against the counter with his lean height. His voice was no longer so benign when he spoke. "I think it does, Rogue. Now let me tell you something. You might have touched me, might have a little of my mind in that pretty little head of yours," he growled, leaning in closer, "but you know nothing about me. My reasons for being here are my own, girl, and they'll stay that way until I choose otherwise. Do you understand me?"

"I knew it," she breathed, and she went to pull her glove off. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape through her throat. "You're here for some evil reason after all."

"You don't know anything," he said smugly, and his hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her as she tried to pull her glove off. "I was most impressed when I heard about what you did to Mystique," he said conversationally. "How you pushed her off the cliff, even though she was your mother." He chuckled darkly. "That would have been most gratifying to see. She's caused me quite a few problems."

"Yeah, well it didn't matter. She's still alive." Rogue tensed, staring warily at him. She was overly-conscious of the heat of his body in a way she couldn't really understand. "That's why you shouldn't piss me off," she growled, glaring up at him. "Or maybe I'll push you off of somethin', too. And trust me. I might like it even more than I did when it was Mystique."

He laughed softly, the sound vaguely sinister. "Indeed. I'll keep your vicious nature in mind, Rogue, never you fear." He yanked her closer to him. "You say I have ulterior motives for being here—do you?"

"None of your business," she answered, and she didn't understand why her voice was so breathless, or why she didn't just start shouting to arouse suspicion, or why she didn't just fight him like she knew she could.

He smiled slowly, as if he knew somehow that she was intrigued with him despite herself by the simple fact she wasn't struggling in his grasp. "There's a lot I could teach you, young Rogue. Don't let your hatred of me get in the way of what you might learn." He lightly traced the white streak in her hair with his free hand.

Why was it suddenly so warm in here? "There ain't nothin' you know I want to learn," she protested, but her eyes were very wide as she met his and she didn't know if she sounded entirely sure about that.

"I wouldn't be so certain, if I were you," he murmured, and leaned his head down.

What the…pull away! What is he doing, he can't really be going to—

He put his mouth very close to her ear. "You intrigue me, girl. Very much. What do you think of that?"

"That I should have hit you by now," Rogue answered honestly. She was so shocked she was momentarily unable to move.

"Maybe so. But I intrigue you. Don't you ever get tired of watching everyone use their powers while you have to be so careful to hide yours?" His fingers rubbed over the black gloves she was wearing. "Doesn't it make you angry?"

Rogue narrowed her eyes and turned her head so that her face was very close to his. "Stay away from me, Magneto, or I'll stop being so careful." She pulled back with all her strength, a little surprised when he let her go. Her wrist burned where he'd touched it.

He watched her with narrowed eyes, his face intent. "If that's what you want, Rogue," he murmured in that dark voice of his.

"Oh, it is," she snapped, and turned away to leave the kitchen, but for a horrifying moment she wondered if that was true.

"Let me know if you change your mind," he said quietly, and when she turned around to glare at him, he was gone.