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Chapter One

"Y' gon' call me when y' land, chere?" Gambit asked her, loading her suitcases onto the weight machine at the airport check in desk.

"If it makes you feel better, sugah," Rogue crooned, receiving her passport and license back from the brunette behind the counter.

"An' you'll check in every nigh'?" Gambit seemed nervous, pulling out a deck of cards to shuffle every couple of seconds before realizing it and stuffing them away into one of his various duster pockets.

She turned to face him more fully. "Maybe not every night, you swamp rat, but often enough. Ah'm not gonna forget about ya, ya know that?"

He smiled, a sudden grin that made it hard to ignore how close they were standing or that there were other people waiting impatiently for their turn to check in or that her plane was going to take off in half an hour and she would be on it. Which meant she wouldn't be seeing Gambit for nearly four months while she studied abroad in London. Her stomach twisted nervously. "Like he's really gonna miss ya when there's other people for him to be interested in, people who can kiss him without putting him in a coma," she thought. Hastily she turned and swept towards the security, missing the flash of disappointment that swept across Gambit's face before it was replaced with a look a hunting cat might sport before it catches a mouse.

"On de other hand, I did volunteer t' drive y' out here, chere," whispered the psyche of Gambit locked in her mind.

"Roguey, y' gon' at least give me a hug goodbye?" called out the real Gambit. She halted to spin towards him.

"If you want a hug goodbye you're gonna have to come and get it. And don't call me that." She smirked a little, taking the bite out of her words. He grinned and glided towards her, closing the distance much quicker than she anticipated. His red on black jester's eyes peeked over the tops of the sunglasses, providing a rare glimpse of the only physical sign of his mutation. "His eyes are so beautiful," she thought.

"No' as beautiful as y', Rogue," the psyche Gambit answered, just as the real Gambit swept her into his arms and spun, lifting her feet off the linoleum ground and bringing a blush to her normal brooding countenance. She squeezed him back for an instant, careful not to touch the exposed skin of her face to him.

"Y' know y' could stay at de Institute dis year, 'stead o' studyin' abroad. London's kind o' far 'way, oui?"

She couldn't see his face, still holding her cheek against his duster, trying to memorize the scent of spices and leather that uniquely meant Remy LeBeau to her. "Ah know. But this abroad program will be great for my college resume, especially since I get to work part-time at the embassy. I'll try to call you every night, Remy. Just don't worry about me. I'm sure you'll be having fun, helping teach the younger kids and all, you'll be just as busy as me." The Professor had asked Gambit to teach French and co-teach Phy Ed with Logan at the school since he was technically old enough to be out of high school but wasn't interested in going to college. Gambit had accepted it, having joined with the X-men a few months ago after Trask had tried to kidnap the students of Xavier's. They had managed to advert a disaster, thankfully, and also keep the existence of mutants out of public spotlight, though it had been a near thing. It was bad enough the government already had a clue about them.

Rogue shivered and pulled back from Gambit, her cheeks a suspicious pink. "Ah've got to go now. Thanks for the lift, Remy. I'll see you at Christmas time!" With that she hiked up her duffel bag and hoisted it over her shoulder, stepping in line for one of the security check points. Remy watched her till she disappeared around the corner, smiling crookedly.

"Take care, chere. Bon voyage." He whispered. He had a very bad feeling about this trip of hers.

Carol Danvers was running late. Her alarm clock, the fifth one she'd had over the summer, hadn't gone off, probably due to the fact that her wand lay neatly across the top of it, where she had placed it after wearing herself out practicing all the wand movements out of the up-coming sixth-year Transfiguration textbook. She was already done reading all the textbooks for the year except History of Magic, which she absolutely detested. The subject was a complete waste of perfectly good time that she figured could be better spent on more useful concepts, like integrating purebloods to common Muggle concepts. For example, electricity. Except, wizards didn't seem to have a use for electricity when it didn't work around magic. Like her alarm clock. Which read 9:36 am, not 8:00 am, which was the time she ought to have woken up at to shower, finish packing her books, wake her parents, eat and get to King's Cross Station before the train pulled out at 11 o'clock. "This is not going to be a good day," she thought crossly, glaring at the wisp of smoke that escaped the clock before the screen went completely black.

Rogue leaned back into the relative comfort of the airplane seat and closed her eyes. For once, the voices in her head were silent, maybe as excited, or nervous, as she was about this trip. She still remembered when Xavier had told her about the study abroad program he'd set up with the University of Westminster.

She'd entered his office, summoned by his mental call, and shut the door quietly behind her. He gestured her to take a seat in one of the two black leather chairs in front of the desk.

"Ah, Rogue, I'm glad you were free. I wanted to talk to you about a project I've been working on. I have been in correspondence with some old friends at the University of Westminster in London and they have generously agreed that it would be a wonderful opportunity for the students here if we had a study abroad program. What do you think?"

Rogue had been intrigued with the idea, and told him as such. "That would be awesome, Professor, London ties into a lot of different areas of study. I know Jubilee would be interested in the theater culture there and…"

"No, Rogue, you misunderstand me," he cut in gently. "I have suggested you as the candidate to study in London. I know of your interest in international studies, and thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you. There is also a position for an internship at the nearby United States embassy, working as a researcher's assistant. Now while you are not required to apply for that, I thought that I would mention it."

Rogue was shocked. She had sat in the chair with her eyes a little glazed over and mouth slightly agape, until Xavier's amused chuckle cleared her mind. "Professor, I would love to go to London! You're right about it being a good opportunity, and, oh, thank you!" She lurched to her feet and rushed around the table to hug him briefly.

"Of course," Rogue thought, "That had been before I completely thought through the ramifications of leaving the school for a year."

It had been later, at one of her sessions working with Xavier, when the plans to study abroad were nearly finalized that she realized something.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Rogue."

"What about these sessions when I'm abroad? I mean, I still need to work on control and everything, right?"

Xavier had leaned forward with his fingertips resting together and frowned a bit. "Yes, you will need to work on control while you are away. However, I believe at this point it is more control over the order of your mind and emotions."

Rogue had been stunned a little. It had been a year since her breakdown when the psyches in her mind had clamored for control over her body. But she had been working so hard with Xavier, that it felt like she was making progress. The ultimate goal, of course, was to be able to control the absorption. But recently they had been working on ordering and controlling her mind so that the psyches couldn't push her out of balance like that ever again.

"That is not to say that we are giving up on controlling your gift physically, merely that I have noticed in your mind what seems to be a block on your abilities that relates to your emotions and orderliness of your mind. The neater your mind is, so to speak, the more clearly I can see the block to try and study it, to see if there is a way to work around it or remove it. But it is slow going. You have made tremendous progress in learning the meditation techniques and learning to deal with major emotions instead of bottling them up until they overwhelm your mind, but these sessions have become more a manner of check-ups. You are doing everything correctly, it is simply a matter of practice and continuing to work your way through the clutter," he concluded.

Rogue had felt the sharp sting of disappointment welling up her throat, and immediately focused on controlling her breathing. "But, Professor, you really think it will take the nine months I'm away to organize my mind? That means it would be nearly a year before we could actually work on stopping the absorption and I'd only have my senior year left when I come back!"

"Rogue, calm down. I am not giving up on this. We knew it would take perhaps many years to get you to the point of complete control. This is simply an interval for you to move forward with your life. You have to think of the future, not just the present."

"Miss, you need to buckle your seatbelt, please. The plane is taking off," A flight attendant broke into her memories.

Rogue nodded and pulled the belt across her lap to click it in securely. The woman continued to bustle down the aisle, slamming the overheads loudly, sometimes repeatedly where the compartment was clearly overly full. Rogue shook her head as if to toss sadness off like water. She knew intellectually that the Professor had shown her the right path to take with regards to her abilities, but it still felt like a disappointment. Like she was giving up and resigning herself to a lifetime of solitude. She didn't think she could see a time when it was the simplest thing in the world to hold someone's hand or give a hug without being super aware of how close her cheek was to the other person's skin.

The airplane around her started to rumble as the engine kicked on and they slowly moved away from the port. Rogue watched the ground slid away under the plane's wing just outside the window.

Remy LeBeau was perhaps the one person in the mansion who understood what she was going through. He had confided in her, as they hung out on the roof of the mansion, that when his powers first manifested, he was blowing up things randomly. He refused to touch anyone in his famille for fear they'd be blown to smithereens. Then, he told her, "De mos' wonderful t'ing 'appened. Remy nearly blew up 'is frère."

Rogue had to laugh despite herself. "How's that a good thing, Cajun?"

"Well, y' go' t' understand, chere. I was passin' Henri a fork fo' dinner and I accidentally charged it. And the charge, it jus' kept goin' through the fork and b'fore I knew it, mon frère was lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew dat he couldn' let go and I couldn' let go cause then we'd be cleanin' bits o' Henri from de dinin' room floor. An' de only ot'er option was to walk 'round de rest o' our lives holdin' onto a fork.

By that time they were both holding back laughter, even though Rogue could see the small bit of terror in his eyes that he must have felt in that moment years ago. She had felt the same way when Cody was lying on the floor before her, motionless, and again when she blearily recognized Wolverine through the wind and the screaming of the voices in her head and he was trying to talk to her and calm her down, and her friends, the rest of the X-men watched with worry on the ground. Not wanting to hurt her, and she as unwilling to hurt them.

"So what did you do? I'm guessing you weren't cleaning bits o' Henri up, as you said."

"Non. See, Remy be thinkin'—"

"Oh, Lord!"

"Now, y' wan' t' hear dis o' not?" He poked her side. She giggled a little and scooted away.

"Just sayin'. Go on!"

"Well, I thought I'd be an Indian giver. If I coul' give dat charge out, den I sure as hell coul' take it back. I didn' wan' t' loose Henri. So I kinda pushed my mind out into de charge, felt it coverin' de fork and on into Henri and I started to pull it back towards me. I got it halfway down de fork before I lost focus and had to toss it away from me. But Henri was safe. And I t'ank Mon Dieu for dat. It also helped me see dat I coul' control de blowin' up stuff. But it took a long time and much practice b'fore anyt'ing came o' it."

They were silent for a bit, looking out over the treetops as.

"Thank you for telling me that, Remy. It helps. It gives me hope that one day, I could… control this," Rogue had whispered.

"Course y' can. An' y' will." And with that, Remy stood and scooped up her gloved hand, kissing it lightly before disappearing over the rooftop to return to his room.

"Swamp rat," Rogue scoffed lightly, breaking out of her memories once more. The flight attendant was on the over-com, telling them to prepare for takeoff. She looked out the window, watching as the ground rushed faster and faster beneath her, and finally fell away into the distance.