Author's note: Okay, so this is my first real fan fiction. And yes, I know the title sucks but I am not creative enough to think of something better. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that. Oh well. Also, this takes place at the end of the 3rd season, after "Under Lock and Key". Oh and when I say POV (point of view) I just mean that that's the person who the story is following at that point, it will not be in first person. Also, people don't think in their accents because that's too confusing. And sorry if my accents suck but I'm doing the best I can.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my doggie, Sampson. Not Marvel comic characters. Sadness.
telepathy
'inner thoughts'
foreign languages (translations)
Making a Connection
by, Caliente
Chapter 1 – The Fateful Meeting
Rogue's POV – Walking in downtown Bayville at twilight
A pretty brown haired girl rushed down the street. Even in the warm spring air she was clothed from head to foot. (A/N: Same outfit that she wore in the Christmas episode) Her plain brown hair was adorned by two striking white streaks that framed her face. She was around 5' 6", 16 years old, and had very nice curves. Her gorgeous emerald green eyes were pointed down as she tried to get back to the Xavier Institute where she lived. 'The street seems to be growing more and more crowded,' she grimaced. Being the only resident Goth, Rogue doesn't have to worry about many people approaching her, however crowds make her nervous. She's a mutant, one of many in the small town, and it is her mutation that makes her nervous around people. 'This is all Scott and Jeans fault. Gawd, if they would just go out to make out then I wouldn't have left,' Rogue thought angrily. 'I hate my "gift"; it's more like a curse. Damnit. I don't know what's worse, when people tip-toe around me or when they don't. I wish I could touch.' Her eyes began to fill with tears but she willed them away.
Rogue was pulled out of her self-pity when she bumped into a tall young man. She stumbled backwards but managed to catch herself before she fell. "Sorry," she mumbled in a slight Southern drawl. Her eyes stayed concentrated on the ground but she noticed he wore silver boots and a well-loved trench coat. 'Hmm… I've seen that outfit before,' she thought. A small box on the ground caught her eye. "Oh, Ah thank ya dropped this," she said picking up the box. It was a box of cards.
Rogue spun around to face him and gasped. In front of her was the card wielding mutant who had tried to blow her up and on their second meeting he called her "chere (dear)" with a chauvinistic attitude. He was tall, about 6' 1", and his auburn hair was messy around his handsome face. He wore sunglasses to hide his red on black "demon" eyes. His outfit consisted of leather pants and a tight black shirt, both accented his lean but muscular build, with the trademark boots and coat. He looked a few years older than her, maybe in his late teens, early twenties. "You!" she whispered angrily. She glared daggers at him. "Heah," she thrust the cards at him, her accent more pronounced with her anger, "too bad Ah can't charge 'em."
Rogue turned to stalk off but his gloved hand grabbed her arm. She flinched at the touch and tried to pull away. "Wait chere," he said in his sexy Cajun accent. Rogue grimaced at that name. "Gambit wan's t' talk wit' y'." He put his other hand on her shoulder and steered her over to a bench and sat down. She struggled against his grasp but he was stronger than her. He grabbed her other wrist and pulled her down so that she was sitting sideways on his lap. She let out a small yelp and flinched away but his arms snaked around her waist holding her down.
'Great,' she thought bitterly, 'now I'm stuck sitting on a psychotic Cajun. How much worse will to day get?' "What do ya want Cajun? Ah don't associate with the enemy. Especially not any of ol' Bucket Head's lackeys." she hissed angrily. "So let meh go!" She continued to squirm angrily against his grip.
"Non (No), Gambit is comfy," replied the smooth talking man. "Now, what's a belle fille (beautiful girl) like y' doing out all alone at nigh'? Somebody could try t' hur' y'." His tone was a calming one, though it had little effect on the angry Goth he was holding captive.
"Ah don't believe that's any of ya business," answered Rogue sassily. "But if Ah had known Ah was gonna run into a Swamp Rat Ah woulda neva left mah home. Let meh up! Now!" Her squirming resumed, though at this point she was beginning to realize that it was futile.
The Cajun smirked and leaned in close and his breath tickled her ear. "Non, y' not going anywhere chere. Swamp Rat, huh?"
"It fit don't it, Bayou boy," Rogue snapped back, finally exhausting herself.
"Dis comin' from a Mississippi River Rat," he threw back.
Rogue glared angrily at him. "Couldn't thank of anythin' mo' creative?"
He chuckled, his chest rumbling against her side. Rogue shivered slightly at his touch. "Okay chere, Gambit will t'ink of a better pet name fo' y'. Well, chere will do fo' now."
Rogue felt she had taken about enough. "Listen, first o' all, Ah ain't ya dear. Secondly, Ah don't know if ya're ignorant or just plain stupid but don't ya know who Ah am?"
"Oui (yes). Y' be de Rogue, de untouchable one," Gambit grinned again, "but Gambit be very creative."
"Just leave meh alone," retorted Rogue. "Besides what makes Gambit thank that Ah would want ta be "creative" with him? An', Ah don't associate with thieves." Gambit looked at her curiously and she laughed at him. "Didn't thank Ah noticed when ya lifted mah wallet, did ya? Not like ya got much, probly just three or four dollars."
Gambit was surprised that she noticed but he masked it well. 'This girl is sassy and doesn't swoon over me like the others. I think I've found a challenge,' the Cajun thought. 'Doesn't hurt that she totally turns me on too. I wonder if she's noticed that all her squirming made me-' Rogue suddenly sat up straighter in shock, 'Yep, she noticed.' He pulled her wallet from one of his pockets and opened it. True to her word, there was only $3 inside. There were a few pictures of different members of the institute. He recognized many of the X-Men from Magneto's briefings. Only one of the pictures had Rogue in it, it was a picture with a blue elf and a petite brunette with her hair in a perky ponytail. He pocketed the picture before handing Rogue her wallet. "Y' more observant den Gambit expected petite (little one)," replied the Cajun. "Here's y' wallet. Sorry chere, old habits die hard."
"Whatevah Swamp Rat," Rogue said angrily grabbing her wallet from him.
Before Gambit could respond, Pyro came running up to him. "Oy, Gambit mate!" he called to the Cajun. "We gotta go. There was an "accident" at the book store." Rogue saw him and her eyes suddenly filled with fear, though her expression remained one of calm anger. 'That's the psychotic fire mutant,' she recalled. She remembered his maniacal laughter and the scary glint in his eyes. Pyro continued talking, "Petey is already heading back. Dump the Sheila and let's get out of here."
"Pyro, mon ami (my friend), Gambit be headin' back soon," replied Gambit calmly.
Pyro nodded and ran off. Rogue turned her head and looked at Gambit with a confused expression. Gambit just shrugged in response. "Too bad, Ah guess ya betta be off," Rogue stated in an obviously happy tone. "If ya'll just let me up-"
"Fine chere," Gambit responded. "Y' win dis round. Don' t'ink dat Gambit will give up dough."
He released her and she leaped up. She turned around and muttered, "Bah Swamp Rat."
Gambit grabbed her hand and planted a kiss. "Until we meet again chere. Au revior (Good-bye)." He gave a small salute and turned to follow Pyro's path. She watched him for a moment before shaking her head and heading toward the institute. It was now dark and when she finally arrived, she was glad for her coverings.
When Rogue entered the institute, she noticed the clock read 8:17. 'Crap,' she thought, 'That stupid Cajun kept me out late. I missed dinner. Damn him.' She sighed and head for the kitchen. She headed to the fridge and made herself a big sandwich. She was about to take a big bite when she heard a gruff voice from the window sill.
"Who's the boy, Stripes?" the voice grunted. Rogue squeaked and spun around almost dropping her food. She saw Wolverine sitting there smiling at her. He was a short, strong man who inspired fear in all of the students. Of course, having three claws in each hand that can slice through any material doesn't hurt either.
"Logan," cried Rogue breathlessly, "don't do that ta meh!" She smiled and shook her head. "Now what are ya talkin' about, sugah?"
"Ya were out late. Ya smell like cologne. Who is he?" Logan asked again.
"There is no "he" Logan," replied Rogue quickly. "There was just a guy Ah bumped into. We talked for a few minutes and then Ah headed home. Ah just walked further than Ah originally planned. That's why Ah'm late. Nothin' is goin' on."
"Sure thing Stripes," Logan said with a smile. "Whatever ya say."
Rogue just nodded and headed up to her room with her food. She ducked inside and sighed. 'That was strange,' Rogue thought. 'Why didn't I just tell him that one of Magneto's goons held me hostage?' A small voice answered her, 'Because you liked it. Because he flirted with you and you liked it. You like him. Plus you didn't want him to gore the poor boy.' Rogue argued with herself, 'No, I don't like him. It's just not possible. He's the enemy. I don't like him.' The small voice continued to argue with her.
A perky voice brought her out of her trance. "Like, where were you at dinner Rogue?" the Valley girl asked. Rogue looked up to see her roommate's bouncy brown ponytail and big blue eyes. The girl was shorter than Rogue and a year younger. She was very pretty and sat smiling from her bed.
"Hi Kitty," Rogue said, deliberately ignoring her question.
"So who's the guy?" the brunette asked innocently.
Rogue turned and stared at her roommate. "What're ya talkin' about?" she asked in a shocked voice.
"Well, I was, like, heading down to the kitchen when I heard Mr. Logan interrogating you," she responded her smile widening. "And I, totally, don't believe you're story. And neither does Mr. Logan."
"Kitty, Ah don't wanna talk about it," the Gothic girl replied. "An' Ah'm not seein' any guy."
"Well we all know that Mr. Logan's nose can, like, totally, smell everything. So, if you, like, smelled like cologne then he would, totally, know," Kitty reasoned.
Rogue glared at her. "Whatevah Kit," Rogue was tired of it. "Ah'm just gonna eat mah food, do mah homework and go ta bed."
"Fine Rogue," Kitty smiled again. "But this is, like, totally, not over."
Rogue just sighed and muttered, "Great, just great."
Here's the first chappy. See, Romyness galore. You know you love it. Tell me that you do. I have low self-esteem. Hehe. Adios for now. Be back soon.