I was randomly inspired to watch Cajun Spice earlier today and this is what came of it. I've never done things from the point of view of a character that isn't mind so I'm sorry if Rogue seems out of character. Thank you Chellerbelle for looking it over :)
Enjoy :)
"Sure you don't."
That's what he had said to her when she told him she didn't care what he did. And she didn't. Not one bit. She fiddled with the card while sitting in the jet going home, giving vague answers to the others.
"Did he hurt you?" Scott wants to know. Yes? Wait! No! No he didn't.
"Not on purpose," was all she could come up with. Her ungloved hands running over the once glossy surface of the playing card, memorizing every crease and scratch and dent on the front, the back, the edges.
"That's not an answer, Stripes." Logan growls from the pilot seat. She watches the clouds as they zoom by.
"He did the wrong thing, but it was for the right reason." She flips the card between her fingers.
"Rogue, you can't really be defending him?" Kurt exclaims next to her. Why does he sound so horrified? She stops flipping the playing card. The corners of her mouth dip down and her brow frowns as well. She doesn't respond. She merely stares at the dark sky and resumes memorizing the feel of the card beneathe her fingers.
"He's the enemy, Rogue!" Scott cries angrily. She presses her lips into a line. They don't know. They don't understand. She really did not care. Why did they think she did? She catches glimpses from the memories she accidentally (was it really accidental?) took from him and she knows that he understood her. Next to Logan, Storm tells them to leave her alone.
"It's been a hectic day for her, boys. Leave her be. You can debrief her tomorrow, Cyclops."
She flips through the memories. They weren't enough, but they told her that he truly understood her. It didn't matter that he had kidnapped her (suddenly it doesn't feel so much like she was kidnapped), what mattered was that he understood her. Wait! She doesn't care! She really doesn't. He's a thief. He used her just like everyone else has. Her milky white hands cease their memorization of the playing card. She looks down at it again. The Queen of Hearts. His Lucky Lady given to her as a parting gift.
She wonders what he will do now, his Lucky Lady in someone else's possession. She scolds herself, reinforcing that she didn't care what the stupid Swamp Rat does. The jet lands. Her feet lead her to her room, she doesn't notice anybody, doesn't hear them talk to her. Her mind on the card clutched in her hand. She puts the card in her nightstand drawer. She doesn't care. She turns to go shower and stops, her hand on the doorknob. She goes back and takes the card out. She studies it under the light of her lamp. She runs her gloved fingers over the Queen of Hearts looking back at her. She reminds herself she doesn't care and tucks it under her pillow. She doesn't care what he does.
"Sure you don't."
His words come back to her again. The way he said it, she knew he saw right through her façade. He knew she did care. Damn him, he was right. But of course, no one needed to know. Right?
Please review! :)
