Title: Changes

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot *sigh*

Summary: This is the first part in the Changes series, a Romy I couldn't resist writing. Rogue thinks about some changes she experienced lately, Remy comes in… and sweetness. They can touch! That's all I can say, you'll haveta read it.

Rogue had never really been one for the more feminine things, more specifically the more feminine behaviors. In fact, she had repeatedly downright laughed at Kitty and the mansion's other girls for doodling their crushes names on their notebooks and spending hours giggling as they painted their toenails together and worried about hair and make-up.

And she knew what really separated her from them was more their attitude than the fact that her powers prohibited touch- though she (unlike most other mutants) had let her powers consume her, become her. The Rogue. But this month had been different. This month she'd been almost as bad as the rest of them.

Oh, she hadn't fussed with her hair and make-up, not so the others would know, and she hadn't written her crushes' name all over her notebooks- but she had spent numerous countless hours drawing his face, staring at it, tracing it, worrying over catching the teasing glint in his eyes and the perfect yet masculine fullness of his lips.

In fact, she had a collection of such pictures. This month Rogue had secretly smiled more at the events around her, her eyes sparkling with joy and affection instead of envy and disdain, and she'd loved every minute she was forced to spend with her teammates. Her friends. And it was all because of a touch; because of a boy. Go figure.

The young Goth sighed, ripping another heavily penciled drawing from her notebook and admiring it before tossing it to the stash under her bed. 'Ah really am getting' soft with age,' she thought to herself with an amused half-smile. Rogue released her shoulder-length hair from its clip, letting it fall to frame her face.

She'd even lightened up on her make-up (but just slightly) and let her hair grow out because somebody had mentioned it would look better. Quickly shucking her clothes, she turned on the shower and stepped inside, sighing as the steam enveloped her and the hot water flowed over her.

Her love for showers and scented bubble baths was perhaps her one consent to feminine things. Water could move, could caress her skin and slid against her without the worry of her powers activating. Rogue stayed there until the water became too cold to be pleasing, which was close to an hour, then rinsed the last of the almond conditioner from her hair and got out.

She loved having her own room. It was so... freeing. Wringing the excess water from her hair, she wrapped of her large bath towels around her and padded over to the balcony doors to let some cool air in, combing her fingers through her hair. Returning to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she stared at the mirror, caught by the strange picture she made.

Pale skin glowing, her cheeks were flushed and her green eyes sparkled like gems. She looked beautiful, lovable... touchable. Heart clenching painfully, she glanced away, dashing the image and picking up her Goth make-up again. But then a movement seen in the glass, and the sudden rise in temperature in the previously cooling room, stopped her.

Rogue froze with the cosmetics in hand as she watched the blurry figure in the mirror advanced, coming to stand behind her. Another person, or herself months before, would've found this odd, but she had been looking forward to this, expecting it- though not necessarily at such a time.

And she was about to open her mouth to tell him that he shouldn't be there, that it wasn't right, that he would get hurt... anything, but she couldn't. Rogue could feel the lean, hard strength of him at her back, could feel the roughness of his coat against her bare skin, and she shivered as he leaned into her in an embrace, his gloved hands on her arms.

She squeezed her eyes shut, blood thundering in her veins and her heart on over-drive as she struggled to control her body's reactions. He nuzzled her neck, pressing kisses there through the veil of her hair, dried perhaps by all the kinetic energy around him.

One hand moved to her lower back as the other ran down her arm and over her cupped hand, charging the Goth make-up teasingly as he turned her to face him. "Remy," she whispered. He raised his head from her neck, meeting her eyes with a look that said he knew what she was going to say. That he knew he should leave but couldn't.

"Rogue?" She wanted to tell him not to say her name that way. The questing warmth in it, the longing, seemed to peel through her protective layers. She hadn't even noticed him take off his gloves, but he raised his fingertips to her cheek, his touch as light and fleeting as the stroke of a butterfly's wing but enough for her to feel it.

She fought the urge to close her eyes as she fought her powers, but she couldn't shut out the sensation of it- or that Remy stood so close to her, representing warmth and strength and an end to being alone, if only for tonight. And tonight she ached to know what it would be like to have his strong arms around her, to be held and loved without fear.

His hand strayed back to cover hers and she dropped the make-up, letting it explode on the floor as he circled her wrist, lifting it as his fingers slid up her palm until their fingertips touched. His hand glowed slightly with kinetic energy, carefully maintaining the ionic barrier over his skin so she only felt the heat as she held back her own powers. Quick shafts of something that might've been desire quivered through her, and as it did, reality hit.

Her eyes went wide and she stepped back before his simple gesture, which wasn't so simple at all, ended with him unconscious on the floor. But his fingers had remained a little too long after her powers kicked in again and he looked almost dizzy as he stood there.

"You should go, Swamp Rat," she said hoarsely as his recent feelings and memories drifted into her head, his red-on-black eyes were hot on hers and he smiled almost regretfully. "I should," he said, for once not in third person. Then he grinned with his usual flippant charm, eyes skimming over her, "Remy'll be seein' ya soon, chére."

With a wink, he turned on his heel and strode to the balcony, pausing. "By the way, love yo' nails, petite." Then he was gone. Rogue stared after him for a moment with a small smile. She'd be seeing him. Laughing silently, she looked down at her red and black toenails, painted the colors of his eyes, and padded to the bathroom, pulling on her nightgown before slipping into bed. Maybe it was finally time for an attitude change after all.

Remy LeBeau watched her briefly as she stared after him then padded into the bathroom then swung to the ground, whistling to himself. Smirking, he pulled out the latest picture she drew of him, which he'd taken after he saw it sticking out from under her bed. He could see it in the image, how much she cared, and his actions with her were his one consent to how much he felt in return. Soon, they would find a way to get around her powers, then they'd have no more need to pretend.