Title: Here With Me
Author: Krissy [Kyrene on ffnet]
Author's Notes: This, in theory, takes place somewhere between Mutant Crush and Turn of the Rogue. The end, sadly, makes it an AU fanfic. But in my little world this, or somethin' similar, is what really happens.
Pairing: Rogue/Lance, Rogue/Fred bonding, mention of Kurt/Kitty
Rating: PG-13 for Lance's swearing, otherwise it is all G-rated.
Archive: If you want it, please archive me! *grins*
The pain was still fresh and raw but he didn't contemplate it. He was The Blob. The Blob didn't feel emotion or moon over girls. He crushed them, killed their hopes, but never pine and he felt like bitching to anyone who would listen over it.
He was restless now. He wanted to jump up and down and scream and pout and cry but he couldn't. He was The Blob and he wouldn't let himself fret over Miss Priss, as Lance and Pietro liked to call her. Fred didn't like it but he wasn't in the position to say anything. Just because he was strong didn't mean they were defenseless. He knew from experience -- that girl Rogue, for example.
"What're ya doin'?"
Fred blinked, the pencil clenched in his hand snapped. He spun around in his seat, which was slower than it should have been, and gazed at the girl. She wore a bored expression on her face and looked disgusted to be there. Or maybe it was disgust from the outfit she was wearing. Jeans and a red turtleneck. Pietro had forgotten to do the laundry again, obviously.
"None of your business," he snapped and then looked down at the pencil he still nursed in his hand. The edge of one half was poking into his thumb. Under different circumstances he probably would have felt its jabbing points, but he hardly ever felt pain.
"Soh-ry," she muttered sarcastically. Her green eyes took in the snapped pencil he had decided to drop to the floor and then glanced around the room where dozens of papers were scattered across the ground. It looked like a whirlwind had crashed for the night. "T'place looks trashed. Was Pietro in here? Ah have ta kick his butt, anyway."
"No, and like I care if he was. Go away, 'Rogue,' or do ya want to finish what we started earlier?"
She was annoying him and he was itching for a fight. He wanted to hit something--someone--until it was unrecognizable. He wanted to make someone else feel his pain. Rejection hurt. Badly. Fred was used to it, oh he was, but when someone had pretended to be his friend? That was the ultimate betrayal.
"Ah don' have anything left ta finish," the Rogue snapped. She leaned down and began to pick up the papers. She began to pile them neatly together and ignored Fred's glare at her action. He didn't want anyone to see the papers. They were private, even if they were soon going to the trash bin.
//Then why aren't you stopping her?//
Fred didn't know and didn't answer the voice's question. He'd worry about his sanity later. For now he'd watch Rogue and make sure she didn't read those papers.
"Those are mine, give them here, girl," he ground out, face flushing red. She raised an eyebrow at him and ignored the command, continuing the small task. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced at the top paper. It was a piece of ripped out notebook paper with Fred's sloppy and bold print.
I am The Blob. I don't feel emotion. I am weak so why did Mystique want me? I couldn't even keep one girl's friendship. Why would anyone else want to be my friend?
His eyes widened when he saw her reading the top page.
"I said give me those," Fred growled and he reached out, knocking them from her hand and they feathered themselves on the ground.
Rogue frowned, and then shook her head. "Whatevah ya say, Freddy." She got up to move away and continue her search for Pietro.
"Hey, wait," he said hesitantly, "...I..."
"Yah what?" Rogue pressed her hands to her hips and stared at him, eyebrows raised.
"You can't tell anyone," he pleaded.
"About what?"
Fred pointed to his papers. "That. What you read. Please."
"Ah won't," Rogue gave a small smile. "Ah understand t'need for secrets, Fred."
He nodded and smiled back. "Thanks, Rogue. Sooo, whatcha making for dinner?"
Rogue rolled her eyes.
---
Rogue sat down at the table with her housemates and she frowned. Something was missing. Where was the food?
"Fred?" Rogue turned to the big teen besides her. "Where's t'food Ah made?"
"Uh . . ." Fred crumpled the piece of paper he was holding. "In the kitchen?" he said unhelpfully.
"I'll help you get it," Lance offered, not meeting her eyes. Rogue looked over at him in surprise.
"Okay," she smiled. They both stood up and she led him into the kitchen where a bowl of salad and a steaming pot of spaghetti awaited them. "Thank you," she said as she picked up the bowl of salad.
"No problem, Rogue," Lance said and Rogue was positive she saw his cheeks flush a light red. He started to pick the pot up and she yelped at him but it was too late.
"Lance, not without pot holders!"
"Damn it," he swore, dropping the pot to the floor, it clattering with a loud bang. Spaghetti splattered all over the floor and he began nursing his reddening fingertips. Rogue took one look at the floor, and then his hands, and sighed.
"Come here," she tugged him gently on the arm and led him to the sink, turning the water on cold. After a few moments she shoved his hands under the water, ignoring his, "Fuck, that's cold."
"Is everything okay in there, yo?" Todd's voice floated from behind the closed door.
"Yes," Rogue called back, "Lance just learned an important lesson."
"No more offering to help Rogue," Lance muttered. Rogue rolled her eyes and considered turning the hot water on for that remark, but held off. There'd be other ways to get him later.
"Ya made a mess, ya know," Rogue said after a moment. Lance shrugged.
"So? What else is new?"
She took his hand out of the water and began inspecting the burn marks. "Ah think ya'll be okay. Ya didn't hold onto it for that long."
Lance nodded and shifted awkwardly, not taking his hand out of her glove-clad ones. "So."
"So," she echoed, raising an eyebrow at him. "What?"
"Umm . . ." he desperately tried to think of *something* to say. "What's for dinner now?"
---
"Yo, why are we *here?*" Todd's blunt question was quickly echoed by everyone else. He stared with wide eyes at the large golden arch symbolizing McDonalds.
"'Cause Lance dropped our dinner," Rogue impatiently explained again. She pushed Todd out the car door and stepped over him. "An' we can't afford anything else."
"Thanks, Lance," Todd grumbled. He stood up, brushing the dirt from the parking lot off his clothing, although it didn't seem to do much of a difference. "We could've had real food, yo, and we stuck with this--"
"Shut up, Toad," Lance snapped, stepping out the driver's seat. "I didn't mean to and if you say one more thing--"
"Both of you, chill," Pietro rolled his eyes. God, it was so lame to live with them sometimes. Without a second's thought he used his mutant power to speed up his journey from the car to the door, leaving his friends coughing in his dust.
By the time the other four found their way inside the fast food restaurant, Pietro was talking to a girl. She looked interested and they took it as their cue to leave him alone. Or they'd pay. Oh, they knew this all too well.
"Well, what're we orderin'?" Rogue asked as she skimmed the menu. Nothing looked that appetizing to her but if she didn't order something she'd be without food. Again.
"I want seven Big Macs," Fred declared, earning looks from the other three. "What?"
"Nothin'," Rogue wrinkled her nose. She finally settled on a Big Mac of her own and began to wander around, looking for a table. She found one in the back of the room and promptly fell onto the hard plastic seat. She could see Lance squabbling with Todd and Fred just stood at the counter, looking bored. She thought back to their conversation earlier that day and sighed.
//Oh what tangled webs we weave.//
She couldn't help a small giggle at the expression. Sometimes phrases could just sound *wrong.*
"What's so funny, Rogue?" Lance carried a tray of food to their table, but she instantly noticed he was alone.
"Where are t'others?"
Lance shrugged, taking the empty seat next to her. "The manager took one look at Fred and Toad and told them outside. Pietro's with that girl still. So, we're just eating alone." he paused, unsure. "If that's okay with you?"
"It's fine," she assured him. She took one of the two Big Macs off the tray and started opening the cardboard box.
"So," Lance said around a mouthful of food. "Um . . . how are you?"
Rogue stared skeptically at him. "Ah'm fine. You?"
"Good, good," he said. He quickly swallowed and grabbed at a couple of the French fries at the same time she did. Their hands brushed and both looked up at each other. Even through the glove Rogue could feel their connection. The one she'd been ignoring since her first sleepless night with the Brotherhood.
The way Lance had looked at her when Mystique had introduced her. He knew she'd been an outsider, too, even before she found out about her mutant power. She could see it in him, too. The sadness in his eyes, the foul language at anything and everything, the violent actions when he didn't get his way with the group. He wasn't used to making group decisions. Well, neither was she.
She quickly snatched her hand away, blushing lightly under his stare.
"Um," Lance swallowed hard. "I saw the X-Geeks here."
Rogue shrugged. "So? Ah don' care what they do. Ah think ya should just leave them alone. They've never hurt us on their own."
"I guess," Lance said. "Pryde was clinging to that blue freak's arm. Do ya think they're an item?"
"Don' care," Rogue dismissed the questioning gossip with a wave of her gloved hand. "Not our business, ya know?"
"Yeah," Lance nodded. He didn't really care about the X-Men but he was desperately trying to figure out what to talk about. The confession of maybe, possibly, kinda liking her was on the tip of his tongue and he really didn't know if this was the time or place, but . . .
Rogue grabbed at a French fry, contemplating as she ate it. Why did he keep insisting the conversation be about the X-Men? They were the last people she wanted to even think about.
Even if Scott was kinda cute, what with his ruby glasses, and preppy attire. She'd never met anyone like him before. So many faces and sides and opinions. Of course, if she'd admit it, she preferred someone who was point blank with her. No skipping around feelings, no skirting around issues, someone who was there when she needed him, no matter what.
Scott Summers would never give her that, even if she did like him. As if.
Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Fred earlier. Well, lack of. That paper had made her think. Did he really feel that way? Perhaps there really was more substance to 'The Blob' than what he let on. But there was nothing Rogue could do about it. Maybe he'd give up on trying to gain Jean Grey's friendship and be content with them. Were they so bad?
"Hey," Lance's voice broke her thoughts and she looked curiously at him. "You look so serious. Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Rogue smiled. "Jus' things."
"Things?"
Mischievously, and feeling brave for the first time in a long time, she responded, "About how sexy ya look sittin' there." She couldn't help but laugh at how he looked embarrassed. She knew he was used to things like that being said but not from someone he thought of as a friend.
"Um, thanks," Lance murmured. They fell back into a comfortable silence and they continued to eat their food. "Rogue?"
"Hmm?"
"Can we talk?"
She stilled at how serious he sounded.
"Ah--Ah guess so," she swallowed.
"Great, then--"
"Yo, lovebirds, let's split."
Both jumped at the sound of Todd's voice and they easily complied without looking at one another.
---
For once nothing memorable happened on their way home and Rogue was desperately grateful for it. That's all she wanted -- a small dose of normalcy. Why was it so hard to live a normal day? Oh, right. She was a mutant who could kill with a single touch, she thought bitterly.
Fully in a bad mood now, she leaned against the car seat as she watched the rest of the Brotherhood enter their home. Alone she could contemplate the world. Without the annoying voices prying into her business.
"Rogue?"
She didn't answer him, trying to ignore him as long as possible. If she let him in the car she knew something would happen that she'd regret.
"Rogue?"
He sounded concerned this time and she looked out the window. The sun was just beginning to set and the way he stood in front of it . . . Her breath caught in her throat.
"Yes?"
He gave a small smirk, "Aren't you coming inside?"
"Ah thought Ah'd sleep out here," she responded, smiling innocently at him. Lance gave her a skeptical smile.
"Oh? And what, may I ask, will you do for warmth?"
Rogue's grin widened as she picked up the leather trench coat jacket from the car's floor. Lance's jacket. One he kept as a spare jacket if it began to rain or get cold outside. She slipped it on, "Ya were sayin'?"
Lance rolled his eyes. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Ah know," Rogue winked, "s'why ya love me."
"Yeah, one of the reasons," he agreed softly. Her eyes widened when she realized he was being serious.
"Excuse me?" she squeaked.
"Move over," he told her. She moved to the other side of the seat and he climbed inside, closing the door after himself. She stared at him, waiting for him to explain himself. He turned his head and just looked at her. She began to fidget. "I could run around in circles and tell you all this romantic poetry crap, but I think I'll stick to being blunt. I like you, Rogue. A lot. Since you've come here . . . you've, well, made my days a whole lot brighter. I . . . I didn't have much family growing up, you see, and well . . . You make me happy. Make me smile."
Seconds ticked by and Rogue could only just stare at him. He . . . liked her?
"How is that possible?" she whispered.
Lance looked away. He didn't know how to answer at first. "Looks like I'll be doing that poetry crap after all, huh?"
Rogue smiled at the attempt of a joke.
"I don't know. I didn't want to like you," he confessed. He turned back to her, staring earnestly at her. "I had a crush on Pryde in school, before I came here, and I knew I'd never get anywhere with her. I'm not like her. I don't have a family. She does. One that means the world to her. Then when I met you . . . It was like, well, sorta seeing myself, y'know? Two parentless kids who both are on the outside looking in. It was that way even before you found out about your 'gift,' wasn't it?"
Rogue nodded, tears blurring her vision. "Yes. Ah never knew mah real parents. My mama, well, she left me when Ah was little. And my daddy? Ah never even knew his name. Ah do understand. When Ah look at them -- t'X-Men -- it's like seein' . . . the poster board family. A mama, a daddy, maybe a sistah or brothah, and a little doggie. They send their precious little kid away an' get help, an' look! A perfect little family again, even with t'abnormality. It makes me sick sometimes."
Lance touched her arm gently. "It doesn't have to be that way, though. I -- we -- can be family. I . . . I love you, Rogue. I'll protect you Rogue. From everything. Every danger, every bad guy, every X-geek, just . . . will you take me?"
Rogue felt tears burn at her eyes. He looked so sincere, so serious. She laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
"O'course Ah will!" she sniffled and then softly, just brushing his ear, whispered, "Ah love ya, too."
---
Lance looked up at the sound of their front door being slammed shut. The rattle echoed through the quiet house. Mystique came rushing into the room, cheeks stained with tears. She sped past Lance, who lay sprawled on the couch.
"Mystique?" he asked, hesitantly. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "Have you seen Rogue? She hasn't been home yet."
"She is home," Mystique responded dully. Mystique's voice caught the attention of Fred and Todd, who both stood at the kitchen doorway.
"Who's home, yo?"
"Rogue," Mystique's face contorted again and she left them staring at her empty spot puzzled.
"What is she talkin' 'bout?" Fred asked.
Lance knew and frowned. "She . . . she's with the X-Men."
The impact of the words stung and he tried to brush away the feeling of being betrayed. After being so brave, after giving her his heart the day before, this is what he gets?
"Why? I thought she hated them?" Fred asked stupidly.
"Ah do."
Lance looked up, eyes widening. She stood there, face perfectly neutral.
"I thought you went home?" Todd said, confused.
Rogue looked at Lance, who was sitting up on the couch and smiled. "Ah am home."
---
--END.
Author: Krissy [Kyrene on ffnet]
Author's Notes: This, in theory, takes place somewhere between Mutant Crush and Turn of the Rogue. The end, sadly, makes it an AU fanfic. But in my little world this, or somethin' similar, is what really happens.
Pairing: Rogue/Lance, Rogue/Fred bonding, mention of Kurt/Kitty
Rating: PG-13 for Lance's swearing, otherwise it is all G-rated.
Archive: If you want it, please archive me! *grins*
The pain was still fresh and raw but he didn't contemplate it. He was The Blob. The Blob didn't feel emotion or moon over girls. He crushed them, killed their hopes, but never pine and he felt like bitching to anyone who would listen over it.
He was restless now. He wanted to jump up and down and scream and pout and cry but he couldn't. He was The Blob and he wouldn't let himself fret over Miss Priss, as Lance and Pietro liked to call her. Fred didn't like it but he wasn't in the position to say anything. Just because he was strong didn't mean they were defenseless. He knew from experience -- that girl Rogue, for example.
"What're ya doin'?"
Fred blinked, the pencil clenched in his hand snapped. He spun around in his seat, which was slower than it should have been, and gazed at the girl. She wore a bored expression on her face and looked disgusted to be there. Or maybe it was disgust from the outfit she was wearing. Jeans and a red turtleneck. Pietro had forgotten to do the laundry again, obviously.
"None of your business," he snapped and then looked down at the pencil he still nursed in his hand. The edge of one half was poking into his thumb. Under different circumstances he probably would have felt its jabbing points, but he hardly ever felt pain.
"Soh-ry," she muttered sarcastically. Her green eyes took in the snapped pencil he had decided to drop to the floor and then glanced around the room where dozens of papers were scattered across the ground. It looked like a whirlwind had crashed for the night. "T'place looks trashed. Was Pietro in here? Ah have ta kick his butt, anyway."
"No, and like I care if he was. Go away, 'Rogue,' or do ya want to finish what we started earlier?"
She was annoying him and he was itching for a fight. He wanted to hit something--someone--until it was unrecognizable. He wanted to make someone else feel his pain. Rejection hurt. Badly. Fred was used to it, oh he was, but when someone had pretended to be his friend? That was the ultimate betrayal.
"Ah don' have anything left ta finish," the Rogue snapped. She leaned down and began to pick up the papers. She began to pile them neatly together and ignored Fred's glare at her action. He didn't want anyone to see the papers. They were private, even if they were soon going to the trash bin.
//Then why aren't you stopping her?//
Fred didn't know and didn't answer the voice's question. He'd worry about his sanity later. For now he'd watch Rogue and make sure she didn't read those papers.
"Those are mine, give them here, girl," he ground out, face flushing red. She raised an eyebrow at him and ignored the command, continuing the small task. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced at the top paper. It was a piece of ripped out notebook paper with Fred's sloppy and bold print.
I am The Blob. I don't feel emotion. I am weak so why did Mystique want me? I couldn't even keep one girl's friendship. Why would anyone else want to be my friend?
His eyes widened when he saw her reading the top page.
"I said give me those," Fred growled and he reached out, knocking them from her hand and they feathered themselves on the ground.
Rogue frowned, and then shook her head. "Whatevah ya say, Freddy." She got up to move away and continue her search for Pietro.
"Hey, wait," he said hesitantly, "...I..."
"Yah what?" Rogue pressed her hands to her hips and stared at him, eyebrows raised.
"You can't tell anyone," he pleaded.
"About what?"
Fred pointed to his papers. "That. What you read. Please."
"Ah won't," Rogue gave a small smile. "Ah understand t'need for secrets, Fred."
He nodded and smiled back. "Thanks, Rogue. Sooo, whatcha making for dinner?"
Rogue rolled her eyes.
---
Rogue sat down at the table with her housemates and she frowned. Something was missing. Where was the food?
"Fred?" Rogue turned to the big teen besides her. "Where's t'food Ah made?"
"Uh . . ." Fred crumpled the piece of paper he was holding. "In the kitchen?" he said unhelpfully.
"I'll help you get it," Lance offered, not meeting her eyes. Rogue looked over at him in surprise.
"Okay," she smiled. They both stood up and she led him into the kitchen where a bowl of salad and a steaming pot of spaghetti awaited them. "Thank you," she said as she picked up the bowl of salad.
"No problem, Rogue," Lance said and Rogue was positive she saw his cheeks flush a light red. He started to pick the pot up and she yelped at him but it was too late.
"Lance, not without pot holders!"
"Damn it," he swore, dropping the pot to the floor, it clattering with a loud bang. Spaghetti splattered all over the floor and he began nursing his reddening fingertips. Rogue took one look at the floor, and then his hands, and sighed.
"Come here," she tugged him gently on the arm and led him to the sink, turning the water on cold. After a few moments she shoved his hands under the water, ignoring his, "Fuck, that's cold."
"Is everything okay in there, yo?" Todd's voice floated from behind the closed door.
"Yes," Rogue called back, "Lance just learned an important lesson."
"No more offering to help Rogue," Lance muttered. Rogue rolled her eyes and considered turning the hot water on for that remark, but held off. There'd be other ways to get him later.
"Ya made a mess, ya know," Rogue said after a moment. Lance shrugged.
"So? What else is new?"
She took his hand out of the water and began inspecting the burn marks. "Ah think ya'll be okay. Ya didn't hold onto it for that long."
Lance nodded and shifted awkwardly, not taking his hand out of her glove-clad ones. "So."
"So," she echoed, raising an eyebrow at him. "What?"
"Umm . . ." he desperately tried to think of *something* to say. "What's for dinner now?"
---
"Yo, why are we *here?*" Todd's blunt question was quickly echoed by everyone else. He stared with wide eyes at the large golden arch symbolizing McDonalds.
"'Cause Lance dropped our dinner," Rogue impatiently explained again. She pushed Todd out the car door and stepped over him. "An' we can't afford anything else."
"Thanks, Lance," Todd grumbled. He stood up, brushing the dirt from the parking lot off his clothing, although it didn't seem to do much of a difference. "We could've had real food, yo, and we stuck with this--"
"Shut up, Toad," Lance snapped, stepping out the driver's seat. "I didn't mean to and if you say one more thing--"
"Both of you, chill," Pietro rolled his eyes. God, it was so lame to live with them sometimes. Without a second's thought he used his mutant power to speed up his journey from the car to the door, leaving his friends coughing in his dust.
By the time the other four found their way inside the fast food restaurant, Pietro was talking to a girl. She looked interested and they took it as their cue to leave him alone. Or they'd pay. Oh, they knew this all too well.
"Well, what're we orderin'?" Rogue asked as she skimmed the menu. Nothing looked that appetizing to her but if she didn't order something she'd be without food. Again.
"I want seven Big Macs," Fred declared, earning looks from the other three. "What?"
"Nothin'," Rogue wrinkled her nose. She finally settled on a Big Mac of her own and began to wander around, looking for a table. She found one in the back of the room and promptly fell onto the hard plastic seat. She could see Lance squabbling with Todd and Fred just stood at the counter, looking bored. She thought back to their conversation earlier that day and sighed.
//Oh what tangled webs we weave.//
She couldn't help a small giggle at the expression. Sometimes phrases could just sound *wrong.*
"What's so funny, Rogue?" Lance carried a tray of food to their table, but she instantly noticed he was alone.
"Where are t'others?"
Lance shrugged, taking the empty seat next to her. "The manager took one look at Fred and Toad and told them outside. Pietro's with that girl still. So, we're just eating alone." he paused, unsure. "If that's okay with you?"
"It's fine," she assured him. She took one of the two Big Macs off the tray and started opening the cardboard box.
"So," Lance said around a mouthful of food. "Um . . . how are you?"
Rogue stared skeptically at him. "Ah'm fine. You?"
"Good, good," he said. He quickly swallowed and grabbed at a couple of the French fries at the same time she did. Their hands brushed and both looked up at each other. Even through the glove Rogue could feel their connection. The one she'd been ignoring since her first sleepless night with the Brotherhood.
The way Lance had looked at her when Mystique had introduced her. He knew she'd been an outsider, too, even before she found out about her mutant power. She could see it in him, too. The sadness in his eyes, the foul language at anything and everything, the violent actions when he didn't get his way with the group. He wasn't used to making group decisions. Well, neither was she.
She quickly snatched her hand away, blushing lightly under his stare.
"Um," Lance swallowed hard. "I saw the X-Geeks here."
Rogue shrugged. "So? Ah don' care what they do. Ah think ya should just leave them alone. They've never hurt us on their own."
"I guess," Lance said. "Pryde was clinging to that blue freak's arm. Do ya think they're an item?"
"Don' care," Rogue dismissed the questioning gossip with a wave of her gloved hand. "Not our business, ya know?"
"Yeah," Lance nodded. He didn't really care about the X-Men but he was desperately trying to figure out what to talk about. The confession of maybe, possibly, kinda liking her was on the tip of his tongue and he really didn't know if this was the time or place, but . . .
Rogue grabbed at a French fry, contemplating as she ate it. Why did he keep insisting the conversation be about the X-Men? They were the last people she wanted to even think about.
Even if Scott was kinda cute, what with his ruby glasses, and preppy attire. She'd never met anyone like him before. So many faces and sides and opinions. Of course, if she'd admit it, she preferred someone who was point blank with her. No skipping around feelings, no skirting around issues, someone who was there when she needed him, no matter what.
Scott Summers would never give her that, even if she did like him. As if.
Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Fred earlier. Well, lack of. That paper had made her think. Did he really feel that way? Perhaps there really was more substance to 'The Blob' than what he let on. But there was nothing Rogue could do about it. Maybe he'd give up on trying to gain Jean Grey's friendship and be content with them. Were they so bad?
"Hey," Lance's voice broke her thoughts and she looked curiously at him. "You look so serious. Whatcha thinkin' about?"
Rogue smiled. "Jus' things."
"Things?"
Mischievously, and feeling brave for the first time in a long time, she responded, "About how sexy ya look sittin' there." She couldn't help but laugh at how he looked embarrassed. She knew he was used to things like that being said but not from someone he thought of as a friend.
"Um, thanks," Lance murmured. They fell back into a comfortable silence and they continued to eat their food. "Rogue?"
"Hmm?"
"Can we talk?"
She stilled at how serious he sounded.
"Ah--Ah guess so," she swallowed.
"Great, then--"
"Yo, lovebirds, let's split."
Both jumped at the sound of Todd's voice and they easily complied without looking at one another.
---
For once nothing memorable happened on their way home and Rogue was desperately grateful for it. That's all she wanted -- a small dose of normalcy. Why was it so hard to live a normal day? Oh, right. She was a mutant who could kill with a single touch, she thought bitterly.
Fully in a bad mood now, she leaned against the car seat as she watched the rest of the Brotherhood enter their home. Alone she could contemplate the world. Without the annoying voices prying into her business.
"Rogue?"
She didn't answer him, trying to ignore him as long as possible. If she let him in the car she knew something would happen that she'd regret.
"Rogue?"
He sounded concerned this time and she looked out the window. The sun was just beginning to set and the way he stood in front of it . . . Her breath caught in her throat.
"Yes?"
He gave a small smirk, "Aren't you coming inside?"
"Ah thought Ah'd sleep out here," she responded, smiling innocently at him. Lance gave her a skeptical smile.
"Oh? And what, may I ask, will you do for warmth?"
Rogue's grin widened as she picked up the leather trench coat jacket from the car's floor. Lance's jacket. One he kept as a spare jacket if it began to rain or get cold outside. She slipped it on, "Ya were sayin'?"
Lance rolled his eyes. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Ah know," Rogue winked, "s'why ya love me."
"Yeah, one of the reasons," he agreed softly. Her eyes widened when she realized he was being serious.
"Excuse me?" she squeaked.
"Move over," he told her. She moved to the other side of the seat and he climbed inside, closing the door after himself. She stared at him, waiting for him to explain himself. He turned his head and just looked at her. She began to fidget. "I could run around in circles and tell you all this romantic poetry crap, but I think I'll stick to being blunt. I like you, Rogue. A lot. Since you've come here . . . you've, well, made my days a whole lot brighter. I . . . I didn't have much family growing up, you see, and well . . . You make me happy. Make me smile."
Seconds ticked by and Rogue could only just stare at him. He . . . liked her?
"How is that possible?" she whispered.
Lance looked away. He didn't know how to answer at first. "Looks like I'll be doing that poetry crap after all, huh?"
Rogue smiled at the attempt of a joke.
"I don't know. I didn't want to like you," he confessed. He turned back to her, staring earnestly at her. "I had a crush on Pryde in school, before I came here, and I knew I'd never get anywhere with her. I'm not like her. I don't have a family. She does. One that means the world to her. Then when I met you . . . It was like, well, sorta seeing myself, y'know? Two parentless kids who both are on the outside looking in. It was that way even before you found out about your 'gift,' wasn't it?"
Rogue nodded, tears blurring her vision. "Yes. Ah never knew mah real parents. My mama, well, she left me when Ah was little. And my daddy? Ah never even knew his name. Ah do understand. When Ah look at them -- t'X-Men -- it's like seein' . . . the poster board family. A mama, a daddy, maybe a sistah or brothah, and a little doggie. They send their precious little kid away an' get help, an' look! A perfect little family again, even with t'abnormality. It makes me sick sometimes."
Lance touched her arm gently. "It doesn't have to be that way, though. I -- we -- can be family. I . . . I love you, Rogue. I'll protect you Rogue. From everything. Every danger, every bad guy, every X-geek, just . . . will you take me?"
Rogue felt tears burn at her eyes. He looked so sincere, so serious. She laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
"O'course Ah will!" she sniffled and then softly, just brushing his ear, whispered, "Ah love ya, too."
---
Lance looked up at the sound of their front door being slammed shut. The rattle echoed through the quiet house. Mystique came rushing into the room, cheeks stained with tears. She sped past Lance, who lay sprawled on the couch.
"Mystique?" he asked, hesitantly. She stopped at the bottom of the staircase. "Have you seen Rogue? She hasn't been home yet."
"She is home," Mystique responded dully. Mystique's voice caught the attention of Fred and Todd, who both stood at the kitchen doorway.
"Who's home, yo?"
"Rogue," Mystique's face contorted again and she left them staring at her empty spot puzzled.
"What is she talkin' 'bout?" Fred asked.
Lance knew and frowned. "She . . . she's with the X-Men."
The impact of the words stung and he tried to brush away the feeling of being betrayed. After being so brave, after giving her his heart the day before, this is what he gets?
"Why? I thought she hated them?" Fred asked stupidly.
"Ah do."
Lance looked up, eyes widening. She stood there, face perfectly neutral.
"I thought you went home?" Todd said, confused.
Rogue looked at Lance, who was sitting up on the couch and smiled. "Ah am home."
---
--END.