Author's Note: This is my little take on what it would be like for Rogue to get her powers under control. I always thought of Rogue's… condition… as being something more psychological than physical and so gaining control would open her to a lot of issues.

Although Touch is set in a rebooted post-First Class style universe, it's not "in-canon" to my Among Thieves story I'm currently posting. I had this plot bunny in my head and it wouldn't go away so wrote it as a one-off, but if you've ever read any of my SW stuff over at JCF then you know I tend to follow themes, a couple of themes in here will be in the Among Thieves story but nothing plot-spoilery.

Touch

Rogue sat on a stool, concentrating on the task at hand. Today could be the final test, she would know for sure if what she both dreamed of and feared had come to pass.

"You ready, Rogue?" the Professor's voice asked politely, always the supportive one.

"Yeah," she took a deep breath, slipping off her gloves, familiar feelings of self-conscious nagging at her as they always did when she took them off.

Two hands were offered to her and tentatively she took them.

The first was of the Professor's, old, wrinkled, calloused from years spent being in a wheelchair. It was rough against her smooth, pale skin.

The other hand was younger, wiry, only calloused across the side of the index and thumb where the man flicked a lighter, his constant companion.

Three months ago, she would have drained the men, a simple touch setting off her power to absorb a person's mutant ability as well as steal their memories. Today she held each hand and nothing happened…

"Now, as we talked," the Professor gently urged her on.

"You ready for this?" she asked the other man.

"I volunteered, didn't I?" Pyro grinned from the medical bed he laid on.

"Thank yah," she left so many layers in the words. He was her best friend, had always been there for her even when she couldn't be there for the Brotherhood. This is why she trusted him to help her now as she attempted to understand her powers better.

It's just like any other power, she ran the words through her head as she concentrated, reaching into the same place she did when she wanted to fly or use her strength, and sought out the power which allowed her to draw in a life-force… the ability that made her a succubus.

No, she couldn't think like that. She was what she made of her powers, not what it made of her.

Taking a deep breath she activated the absorption process, but in her left hand only, the one that held on to Pyro. Within seconds she could feel fire pouring through her veins and it was a strangely pleasant sensation. Following was the memories, mostly surface thoughts and she threw them away, not wanting to intrude on her friend's privacy.

Quickly she jerked her hand away from the unconscious Pyro, fighting every instinct to let go of the Professor but he held tight.

"It worked," she let out the breath she was holding. "I was able ta target specific where I wanted ta activate my powers."

"Wonderful," the Professor smiled, finally letting go, "with this I feel confident in saying that you well and truly have your powers under control."

"Yeah," Rogue stared at her bare hands, every muscle in her body twitching to grab her gloves and put them back on even though she was no longer a threat to any random touch.

"You're troubled by this," the older mutant said, likely reading that little nugget in her face as she wasn't really trying to hide it.

"I've spent almost my whole life afraid ta touch anyone," she said quietly, her words echoing softly off the cold metal of the room, "I wear concealing clothes, even in the middle of summer, I constantly watch every movement, every hand gesture around me. I jump away from Kurt when he gets excited, worried that he'll brush against me…"

Xavier took her hand again and she flinched, almost jerking it away, only his strong grip keeping her from doing so. "You don't have to worry about any of that now."

"So why does tha thought of wearing a t-shirt frighten tha hell out of me?" she broke free of his grasp when the sensation of touching skin for so long became too much to handle.

The Professor sighed, "You built walls around yourself, Rogue, and your powers became an extension of those walls, that's why you couldn't turn them off, deep down you didn't want to."

"We've been through this," she snapped, she didn't need a reminder that her curse had been nothing but a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Her mother, real mother, left when she was young and her father was not a very nice man. Then came along Mystique who she though meant to help her but the woman only reinforced the futility of gaining control of her abilities in favor of having her use them to the extreme. Everywhere she turned, people kept using her, hurting her, breaking her heart and her soul.

Even regular individuals in that position put up mental shields to keep themselves to avoid being hurt… Rogue was special, her absorption ability became an extension of those emotional barriers and as long as she couldn't touch anyone… as long as she had that excuse to hide behind… no one could ever get close enough to hurt her ever again.

It wasn't until she faced the past that she was able to tear through the brick and mortar she had put up so long ago. Freedom made her free though she felt as trapped as ever.

"It will take some time," Xavier said encouragingly, "start small, perhaps do one thing differently each day, or week at first if that's easier. A lifetime of habits do not go away overnight, they may not all disappear either, but now that you have your powers under control you don't have to be afraid anymore."

Rogue sank in her seat, fighting the urge to tuck her hands into her pockets, "I didn't think it would be this… overwhelming…"

"New things usually are," he came forward a bit, placing his hand on her shoulder, "but you're Rogue, you adapt, you'll be fine."

Looking down at her hands she examined the individual whirls and loops that made up her distinctive fingerprint, something else that made her unique. The fingertips were one of the most sensitive areas of the body, millions of receptors there to document and catalogue every sensation.

Always afraid of an accidental touch, Rogue pretty much never took her gloves off unless she had to, she even slept in a pair of cotton ones in case she was awoken in the night. When she touched someone to drain them any feelings of skin on skin was immediately drowned out as her ability kicked in.

"I'm like a blind person who has gained sight," she whispered, unable to look away from her hands, "I always knew a world was out there, but now that I can see it for all its glory… there's so much to take in, it's both beautiful and frightening."

"I won't lie," he attempted a smile, "there is a downside to everything, though I think you'll find this as more of a positive than negative," he squeezed her shoulder and moved his motorized wheelchair past her, "and you have all of us to help you… and you have Mr. LeBeau."

At the mention of the name, something icy stabbed at her heart.

"Rogue?" the telepath must have caught the spike in emotion. "You are going to tell him, right?"

"He'll be tha…" she glanced at Pyro, "third to know. I can't tell anyone else before him, wouldn't be right."

He must have caught the catch in her voice, not that she was trying to hide it really, "Isn't this good news, for the both of you?"

"Yah would think," she said sarcastically, hopping off the stool, slipping on her gloves, they had been off too long and her body was starting to tremble.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Xavier asked almost fatherly like, not that she ever thought of him as such.

"No," she turned to face him and he raised an eyebrow at her, not convinced. "Fine," he'd probably just read it in her mind anyway, "telling Gambit that we can now touch scares me tha most."

"Why?" he furrowed his brow, "You two have a great relationship."

"Exactly," she said the word louder than she meant, reigning it in, "it took us so long ta get where we are and most of that was my fault, I could accept that he loved me, but not that he could willingly spend his life… without… touching…" she found it awkward to talk about sex in front of the Professor.

Thankfully he didn't press for details, figuring it out, "But now you can… touch," the man said the word as uncomfortable as it made her feel.

"I know," she leaned against Pyro's medical bed, trying to put her feelings into words, "and that changes tha dynamic of our relationship. Adds in factors that we never considered before, never thought possible," her voice went small, "what if it doesn't work this way?"

There was a long silence before Xavier said the words she had refused to say out loud, "You're afraid he'll love you and leave you?"

"Thing about tearing down those walls," she gave a tired laugh, "someone is gonna try ta huff and puff and blow yah house down."

"Do you really think LeBeau would do that?" he practically admonished her, politely of course, as was his way.

"No," she admitted, rubbing her arms, "but habits don't die overnight…"

"Very well," the Professor said with resolve, "LeBeau will be back in the morning, in the afternoon we'll be having a team meeting regarding the information he should be bringing back with him," if Gambit had managed to procure it, though that was never an issue, "at the meeting I will tell everyone about the progression of your condition."

"What?" she stood straight, nearly knocking over the stool.

"The team needs to know," he held up his hand, not taking no for an answer, "and sometimes a person needs a little push. Gambit will see you before the meeting, we both know that, tell him then, you'll have no choice."

Rogue got angry, she hated it when anyone tried to control her or push her into anything she didn't want to do, she rebelled against it her whole life.

Think about it, Rogue, she heard the Professor's voice in her head, it gives you an out.

Her eyes narrowed as she thought about what he said, the realization hitting her in seconds. If they had an all important meeting to get to then if the conversation didn't go well, or maybe too well, she had an excuse to end it, hopefully salvaging what was left of her relationship with the Cajun. And the Professor was right, if she didn't get a little push, she'd keep putting it off.

"Thank yah," she said quietly.

"I told you," he gave her a soft smile, "we're all here for you."

Pyro started to moan, lifting a hand to rub his head.

"Hey," she turned to him, a smile on her face, Pyro like a second brother to her, "how yah feeling?"

"Not bad," he stretched a bit, scratching the back of his head, "did it work?"

"Perfectly," she said the word with equal glee and trepidation, "Professor's given me tha stamp of approval."

"That's great," he grinned at her, patting her hand, "want to go fire juggle over Summer's car? It'll drive him crazy."

Rogue let out a laugh, leave it to Pyro to skip over the angst of the situation and see the life in everything, "Sure, why not."

It had drove Summer's crazy and was totally worth it, the man chasing them off with a water sprinkler and threatening to hide all of Pyro's lighters and matchbooks. The rest of the night went about normal, Pyro content to keep Rogue's secret until tomorrow and just pretend like nothing was different.

Rogue felt kind of bad for only letting him in on what was going on but he was her oldest friend. Kurt, she loved him, but he tended to get over excited and take things harder. If she had failed to get her power under control he would have somehow blamed himself, just how the blue guy was, heart as big as the moon and hanging off his sleeve.

As for Gambit, well, the reasons for not telling him were about as obvious as the white streak in her hair. Maybe she should have told him after the first time she had shut down her absorption ability without realizing it. It was such a shock though, could have been a onetime only thing. So maybe she should have said something after she tested her abilities on Pyro… or after she talked to the Professor and started running more experiments.

She simply didn't want to disappoint the Cajun thief… or get his hopes up.

By the end of the night she was exhausted, mentally mostly, and headed to the place she shared with Gambit. The professional thief, while a pseudo-member of the X-Men, was at heart, still a loner. As he started to work more and more with Xavier he got himself a place to stay near the mansion. It was actually a converted warehouse, bedroom up on the mezzanine with the kitchen, pool table, etc on the ground floor. There was also a nice open space to either practice fighting or work on his bikes.

Once she and Gambit sorted out where they stood in their relationship she started spending more and more nights with him… in his bed… not doing anything but they had a routine, a process. Got to the point where she gave up her room at the mansion and moved in with the resident thief.

Rogue got dressed for bed, her usual, jersey sleep pants, long-sleeve shirt to match, socks and soft cotton gloves. It was comfortable, familiar, but she supposed Gambit would like to see her in something more revealing now that she didn't have to worry about him accidently touching her during the night. The thought of wearing some lacy baby-doll both made her skin crawl and her stomach lurch. It wasn't something she'd wear, it wasn't her.

But it could have been.

What kind of a woman would she have been had her powers never got stuck in the on position? If she had never decided at such a young age that no one was going to hurt her ever again?

A woman who would have never had to chase Remy LeBeau down a highway after he made a fool of her and the other Brotherhood mutants. A woman who would have never made so many great friends who accepted her for who she was, not what she could do. A woman who would have never have found such a wonderful brother in Kurt. A woman who would have never fallen in love with a thief and had that love returned.

For a moment she considered taking off the gloves or maybe sleeping in a t-shirt. She decided maybe tomorrow, or the day after… hell, for all she knew this could be her last night here and she'd have to go back to the mansion.

Crawling into bed, her side, her blanket, she curled into the pillow that smelt of Gambit, spicy and husky with just a tint of motor oil, and drifted asleep.

Five hours later she awoke at the sound of an engine revving then dying out. Gambit had come back early and was parking his bike below. Quietly the man climbed the steps, only making noise so she knew where he was and that he wasn't some crazy intruder… cause a person would have to be crazy to attempt to break into Gambit's home. His place was thief-proof, tried and tested by the greatest thief in the world himself.

"Hey," she couldn't pretend to be asleep, wouldn't fool the man, "yah back early."

"Logan wanted to race," he grinned at her, slipping his trench off, hanging it and his hat on the rack next to the door, "miss me, cheri?"

"Who are yah again?" she teased back, finding that so much easier than thinking about what she really needed to say to the Cajun.

"Oh," he held his hand over his heart, "you hurt me cheri, right here."

She rolled her eyes, sinking back into the pillow, "So, who won tha race?"

"Who you think?" he winked, walking over to the bed and lifting her gloved hand to kiss the back of it, part of their process, it represented so much more than a simple polite gesture, "Gonna shower and I'll join you, unless you want to join me?"

He wasn't serious but getting Gambit to stop being suggestive, or stop flirting with women for that manner, was like asking Pyro not to play with fire… or Xavier to grow hair… or Scott and Jean to stop being so sickly sweet… or Kitty to shut up for five seconds… or Kurt to calm down when he hears good news… or… yeah… the list goes on.

"Yah stink," she crinkled her nose at him and he looked hurt, though he was faking it as that grin snuck back onto his lips.

After grabbing some clothes from his drawer, Gambit sauntered over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of cards everywhere. Some men had issues figuring out what a hamper was used for, not hers, he could store away his dirty clothes but LeBeau couldn't seem to understand that lock picks, poker chips, and Ace of Spade's do not belong on the bedroom floor. She chuckled to herself, she wouldn't have him any other way.

Twenty minutes later, Gambit emerged, towel dried hair dripping water onto a grey t-shirt and black sleep pants. Tossing his watch, phone, and a deck of cards on the night stand, he slipped into the bed, his side, his blanket. Rogue laid on her side as he grabbed the thin pillow, laying it up against her back and head before snuggling up to her.

He touched her covered shoulder and slowly traveled down her arm until it reached her gloved hand to intertwine their fingers. This was also part of their process and represented much more than a simple loving gesture. This was as close as they were ever going to get to each other…

"Remy," she said quietly, most of her resolve crumbling once she managed to get the word out of her mouth.

"Cheri?" he asked back sleepily.

"There's something I have to tell yah," her pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow as she fought a panic attack. She should wait until tomorrow, when she had the out, but there was no way she could sleep now and she felt as if she could scream at any second.

"Hhm?" he adjusted his body, getting comfortable.

"I…" that was it, she couldn't get the words out, they stuck in her throat.

After a long pause, Gambit leaned up on his shoulder, "Something wrong, petite?"

"No," she said quietly, "not technically."

"It be too late for riddles, cheri," he said playfully, with a touch of seriousness, "what's on your mind?"

If she couldn't say the words then she would just have to show him another way.

Turning on her back she released his hand, it falling across her stomach, and she moved the pillow up so she could see his red-eyes staring down at her. There was a slight expression of confusion on his face but that was it, she knew he stopped worrying about her a long time ago, knowing she could take care of herself.

Hands trembling, she removed her gloves one at a time, his expression growing deeper, knowing how uncomfortable she felt without them on. She reached for his hand and he flinched, trying to pull away but she used her strength to hold on, long enough for him to realize she wasn't going to drain him.

Gambit stared at the sight of their hands touching and she released her grip so that they could lay their palms flat against each other.

"Rogue?" he questioned, suddenly staring deep into her eyes and she let him. Gambit had a way of seeing through shape shifters, something about how they could never get the eyes right. "Is dis a dream?"

"If yah to ask," she replied quietly, "then it ain't."

Their fingers interlocked and Rogue fought down the itch to tear away from him. His hands were so rough, like the Professors, but the calloused pattern different, running along the lines where he flipped cards and drove his bike.

"How?" his voice trembled, she wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not seeing as it rarely happened.

"I figured out what was wrong," she gave him a half-smile, "why it didn't work like other normal powers," she didn't really want to tell him the details so she opted for a confession. "I've been working on it for about a month, sorry I didn't tell yah, but I wanted ta be sure."

"It's okay, cheri, I understand," he smiled softly, lovingly, his eyes dancing back and forth, a sure sign he was deep in thought. His breathing had quickened as his pulse raced, just as hers was doing. He looked like a man ready to pounce but far too cautious and smart to actually do it.

There was one sure thing that could break through any habit… and that was impulse.

Years of wanting to do something so badly she could scream burst forward reminding her that now was her chance and she took it. She only needed to start making the move and Gambit didn't have to be told twice, their mouths met and attacked each other hungrily.

Rogue had felt his lips a rare few times before and it was always over too soon but now… now she drunk in every inch of him, how he tasted of cayenne and peppermint. His permanent scruff of facial hair drug across her skin leaving a strangely exotic tingle to her face. His teeth nipped at her lip as he came up for air and to pull her closer to him. Their bodies wrapped awkwardly in the blankets didn't stop him from holding her flush to his body, as if he was afraid to let her go.

His hand ran down her arm as it had done a thousand times before, this time caressing her bare hand, pushing up the sleeve just a bit, touching her wrist.

Suddenly Rogue's world shrank and it all became too much. Every touch exploded thousands of sensations previously unknown to her and her mind became overwhelmed by sensory input. Then came the old habits, inner voices screaming to move, get away, do not touch…

With a strangled cry she pulled away from him, planting her hands on his shoulders for leverage, almost panicking at the sight of her gloveless fingers.

Gambit furrowed his brow just a bit, not judging or mad, only unsure.

"I'm sorry…" her voice broke as she tried to calm herself, "it's all so much…"

"Sshh," he soothed, his hand going to her shoulder to steady her, "when you're ready."

Rogue balled her fists and closed her eyes, letting the tremors of trepidation pass through. She could still feel Gambit's lips on hers, the tingle of her skin, and that did little to help. Opening her eyes she found the love of her life gazing at her with a gentle, understanding, smile.

Thieves are creatures of infinite patience, he told her that once, long ago.

"I want ta be with yah, Remy," she said quietly, fighting instinct to take his hand again, "I have since yah first made a fool out of me."

He chuckled at the memory, a glint in his eye that she knew all too well. "You didn't make it easy, cheri."

"What would have been in tha fun in that?" she teased him, more content to lay with him, talk to him, than to touch him.

That was the problem, touching was well outside her comfort zone even though she was no longer a threat. How does one break a lifetime of habits? One day at a time…

The thief reached up to steal as kiss on her forehead before pulling her close, tucking her against him where no skin touched.

One slow day at a time…

...

Xavier sat at the head of the table, the team gathered and taking their seats just as the clock hit noon. "Let's begin."

"Wait," Kurt leaned forward, glancing back and forth down the table, "where's Rogue?"

Saint-John snickered and it was obvious he was trying not to burst out laughing. Everyone stared at him and he sheepishly said, "What?"

"I suppose this is a good enough moment as any," Xavier gained everyone's attention. "Over the past month Rogue has gained a better understanding of how her abilities work. Saint-John was kind enough to act as guinea pig during this time and now I am happy to say that Rogue's absorption ability is now like her other powers, turned off until she activates it, an accidental touch is longer dangerous."

"Ja! Wunderfall!" Kurt exclaimed, hopping both feet into his seat, the rest of the table giving similar, though not as ecstatic, cheers of congratulations to the absent mutant.

"As good as this news is," he was quick to calm them down, "Rogue has spent her life shut off from physical contact, it's not something she is used to and could become overwhelming, so please, give her time to adjust and be understanding."

Several heads nodded, a few comments whispered, but it was Bobby who said what everyone was thinking, grinning broadly, "Explains why she's late and so is the thief."

Snickers echoed around the table and Xavier let them get it out of their system.

"Wha?" Kurt glanced around, oblivious.

Scott was sitting next to the mutant and he looked like he was going to do something with his hands but instead his eyebrows shot up and said suggestively, "You know…"

The blue mutant shook his head, "Know wha?"

The older man couldn't seem to get the words out of his mouth and was saved by his wife wrapping her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head to the side and looking at her husband alluringly.

Kurt looked between Scott and Jean twice before it finally dawned on him. "Gross! That's my sister ya talking about!"

The room exploded in laughter, even Logan cracking a smile. The group managed to get themselves under control about the time Rogue and Gambit walked quickly into the meeting.

"Sorry, we're late," she said, just a bit breathless, looking like they had run through the mansion.

All eyes turned to the couple and not a single one of them could hide the knowing grins on their faces, a couple even giving a thumbs up gesture. Rogue's eyes met Xavier's and he simply shrugged, he had said he was going to tell them.

"Not a word," the red-head threatened the room with a point of her gloveless finger, "not a goddamn word."

There were a few giggles, mostly from Kitty, but generally everyone became respectful of the couple's privacy… except the couple themselves.

Rogue moved forward to go to their seats but Gambit caught her hand and pulled her back to him. Suavely he dipped the woman in his arms and kissed her soundly on the mouth in front of the entire X-Men team. She grabbed his shoulders as if she was going to push him off but after a tense second she instead wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the kiss.

Cat-calls echoed loudly, covering the moans of Kurt who hid his eyes behind his tail.

When the two finally came up from air, Rogue was grinning but she looked like she might punch him, "I'm gonna kill yah, Cajun."

His eyes twinkled, "Worth it."

...

Four weeks later, Rogue stood at her dresser, staring down at her gloves.

"Hey," Gambit came up behind her, loosely wrapping his arms around her and this time she only flinched a little bit, the first time she nearly punched him.

Gone were the gloves and socks, but she still wore the sleep pants, a t-shirt replacing her long sleeve shirt. Small steps, one day at a time.

Gambit was dressed in only his sleep pants, preferring to be less constricted when he slept. She'd seen him shirtless before on many occasion but it never ceased to amaze her just how toned he was for a man who didn't have a specific exercise regime. There was so much to touch… and she had recently spent a whole night simply tracing the lines of his abs…

She began to laugh.

"What's so funny, cheri?" he breathed into her ear.

"I was thinking about that day, when everyone found out about my powers," she remembered the moment well, "aren't ya supposed ta do tha walk of shame after yah have sex?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, petite, I usually exit out da window."

Rolling her eyes, she turned in his arms and gazed into his red-iris's, "Gonna leave by tha window first time we sleep together?"

"Might do," he grinned, leaning down to nip her on her lips, "for old time's sake."

"Yah horrible," she said while reaching for more kisses, wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Dat I am," the thief pressed her against his body, deepening the kiss.

On their own accord, their feet shuffled them closer to the bed. Following an impulse, Rogue pushed the man down onto the soft sheets then crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands reached up and traced down her arms slowly to interlock with her fingers… a shudder ran down her spin.

"I want yah, Remy," her voice was huskier than she had ever heard it before.

"I know, cheri," his was low, attempting to hide the lust underneath but she knew better.

"No," she leaned over him, brushing ghostly over his bare skin, "I want you."

His eyes barely went wide but they might as well have been as big as saucers considering it was Gambit. She could feel his body tense, "You sure about dis, Rogue?"

She glanced back at the forgotten gloves, that morning had been the first time she hadn't instinctively put the items on before remembering she didn't have to. Smiling down at her thief, "I'm about as ready as I'll ever be, and I've wanted yah for a long… long time."

He gained a mischievous grin, "Just how long exactly, I wonder?"

Leaning down so her chest pressed against him, she whispered hotly into his ear, "Wouldn't yah like ta know."

With a rumbling chuckle, the man lifted her easily, moving up the bed and turning them over so he was on top, trailing kisses down her neck. Butterflies swarmed her stomach but these had nothing to do with her adversity to being touched. It may have been awhile since Gambit was last intimate with someone but she knew he was an old pro who knew exactly what he was doing when it came to making a woman scream and beg.

Once again his hand trailed down her shoulder all the way to clasp his fingers with hers before then bringing her arm to rest above her head. It had been their process, their way to cope, the gesture being their version of sex…

Now that they could touch it became something more powerful, a symbol of their love.

"I hate yah," she growled as he teased around her mid-drift, making sure she truly was comfortable with what was about to happen next.

"I know, cheri," he grinned, pushing the fabric up slowly, touching her gently, "I know…"