Chapter 1: Settling Down

             "Okay, I know this is the thirtieth time I've asked this, but I don't get this…" Remy LeBeau gave a defeatist sigh, he was sitting in front of the computer in the recreation room of the Mansion, his eyes focused on the twenty-one inch flat screen monitor, "how do I download a song again?"

             Rogue was sitting on the couch reading – or at least trying to read.  She had an essay on poetry due on Friday – only four days she had to write it.  She raised her eyes from the book on Emily Dickinson's poetry, and glanced over the back of the couch, "you open Kazaa, and go to 'search'," she said, "make sure you select audio, it'll increase your chances of finding a song MP3, and not porn…"

             "You can find porn on this?" Remy sounded intrigued.

             "Yeah, but it's all gross stuff, like kiddie porn and all the rest," Rogue shrugged and tried to go back to her book.

             Remy left the computer, frustrated after not finding what he wanted, "Ugh, I give up, I am NOT a computer person!"

"Get Kitty to teach you, she's a whiz at computers," Rogue turned a page in her book.

"I hate modern technology," Remy uttered broodingly, "has a mind of its own – it can betray you."

Rogue burst out laughing, "betray you?  A computer?" she demanded.

"Sure it can," Remy walked over to the back of the couch and knelt on the floor, resting his arms on the back rest, near where Rogue's own head was.  "What are you reading, anyway?"

             "Emily Dickinson," Rogue sighed, "I need to get a start on an essay due on Friday," she explained.

             "You've been reading for five days solid," Remy remarked, "It's so…Kitty Pryde," he remarked.

             "I'm seriously failing in a lot of classes, Remy, I NEED to make this essay good just to get a decent grade," she sighed.

             "You need a break," Remy grabbed the book from her hand and tossed it away, "What else do you feel like doing?"

             "Apart from smacking you for throwing my book around?" Rogue turned around in her seat.

             "Apart from that," Remy smirked.

             It was February, and Remy LeBeau's hair had grown even surprisingly longer than it had been, hanging around his face in fine silky yet slightly mussed layers, his dark eyes peered out beneath his long dark lashes, and his mouth remained ever pulled into that same smug smirk he always had, his face slightly darkened by stubble.

             "You didn't shave today," Rogue commented, rubbing her gloved hand under his chin affectionately. 

             "I didn't need to," Remy scratched his chin thoughtfully, he stood up, and raised his arms upwards, arching his body in a very long tired stretch, a loud and mighty yawn escaping his mouth.   Rogue took a quick glance at him, noticing his Harley Davidson T-shirt rising as his arms went up, revealing his washboard abdomen, and the fine trail of dark hair disappearing under the waistband of his boxer shorts which was slightly protruding out of the waistband of his jeans.

             Rogue acted upon it, reaching into her nearby glass of diet coke, she grabbed a few blocks of slightly melted ice, grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, and shoved the ice cubes down, let go and then leapt up from the couch, knowing what would happen.

             Remy LeBeau let out a howl of shock at the coldness in his underwear and gasped, "Oh my GOD!" he jumped around violently trying to shake the ice out.

             Rogue burst into torrents of laughter, her hands over her face.

             "I'll get you for that…" Remy LeBeau remarked, finally reaching into his underwear to get the ice, he tossed the cubes at her with a pout.

             Rogue dodged the ice cubes, they shattered against the wall into smaller chunks, and landed on the carpet.  "Ewwww, tainted ice!  How gross."

             Remy rushed after her, she took to the air, rushing out of the open door as fast as she could, knocking Jean Grey over who had been heading down the hallway.

             "No flying in the mansion!" Jean reminded Rogue of the rules.

             Rogue didn't listen, she simply flew down the hall, and eventually, slammed into the wall accidentally, slightly cracking it.  "Ow…" she muttered, she rubbed her head which had been the first to hit the wall.

             Remy caught up, "are you alright?" he asked.

             Rogue landed hard on the floor as her powers gave out on her due to lack of concentration, "Yeah," she laughed a little, "serves me right I guess."

             Remy helped her up, "yeah, it does," he smirked, "did you hurt your head?"

             "Only a little," Rogue rubbed her forehead.

             "Lemme see…" Remy moved her hands away from her head, their skin separated by the layers of clothing and gloves she was wearing, "no marks or anything, you're invulnerable though, aren't you?" he asked.

             "I've never completely tested that theory," she admitted, "Was Carol Danvers invulnerable?" she headed back towards the recreation room.

             "I don't know," Remy was surprised Rogue had even brought Carol's name up, she'd been sore about his involvement in her own absorbing of Miss Marvel's powers, "she had stamina, but whether or not it would have stopped her from being hurt, I'm not too sure," Remy threw himself on the couch and picked up Rogue's book, "what is this, poetry?"

             "The poetry of Emily Dickinson," Rogue said, "I need to write an essay on it, I told you that already."

             "Yes, yes, its due on Friday," Remy rolled his eyes, he opened the book and flicked through the pages, "wow, this is…pretty depressing stuff here…"

             "I kind of like it," Rogue sat down beside him, folding one of her legs underneath herself.

             "Figures," Remy glanced at her and shook his head, rolling his eyes again, he flicked few a few more pages, "hmm, what's this…" he began to read from the page, "what if I say I shall not wait, what if I burst the fleshy gate, and passed, escaped to thee, what if I file this mortal off…" He raised an eyebrow, "I don't understand this kind of poetry," he remarked, "to me its all words with secret stupid meanings that you have to have at degrees in English literature to understand what's really being said," he closed the book.

             "Hank is really good with poetry, he can analyse just about any poem and tell you what it's really about…this is his book actually," Rogue took the book from Remy, "so no more throwing it around."

             "I'm good with poetry," Remy beamed,  "I don't understand it, but I'm good with it…" he cleared his throat, "roses are red, violets are blue, there's this thing in my pants that I could stick into—"

             Rogue smacked him on the arm, "sick," she muttered.

             "Ow!!!" Remy groaned, rubbing his arm "will you watch your fucking strength already?  This arm just healed, I don't want it in a cast again," he gestured to his right arm, which she'd hit.

             "Sorry," Rogue chewed her lip.

             "You give me more bruises than a level ten session in the danger room does," he remarked coldly.

             "Poor baby," Rogue mocked him.

             Remy leaned back into to the couch, "can you pass me that TV guide there?"      "This one?" Rogue asked, noting at least three months worth of TV guides were lying on the table, the closest seemed to be the most recent.

             "Yeah," Remy nodded.

             Rogue leaned forward when suddenly she felt a very cold wet sensation run down the back of her pants, she gasped and stood up, realising Remy had put a block of ice down her pants.  "Remy, you ass!"

             "Told you I'd get you back," Remy smirked.

             Rogue reached into the back of her pants and pulled the block of ice out and threw it at him.

             It hit him on the forehead and bounced off, he put a hand to his head, "Jesus are you trying to imbed ice into my skull now?" he held his head.

             "I was aiming for your eye," Rogue folded her arms.

             "You're nasty!  You like beating me up."

             "Oh shut up, you're not that much of a wimp, your powers include natural agility and you can't even dodge a block of ice?" she demanded.

             "I wasn't ready," Remy pouted.

             Rogue sat on the other side of the couch, she pulled her legs up and put her feet on his lap, crossing her ankles.

             Remy raised an eyebrow, "Oh great, now I'm just your foot stool, Remy don't get paid enough for this shit."

             Rogue laughed, "shut up…"

             Remy was silent for a moment or two.  "Is it just me, or are things settling down?" he asked casually, he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the television on, he began flicking through channels.

             "What do you mean?" Rogue took her feet off of his lap and sat bolt up right, folding her legs in front of her.

             "Me and you, things have been…pretty good, don't you agree?"

             Rogue paused for thought, he was right, things had been pretty good since Christmas.  There had been no real romance of course, but their friendship had blossomed and they were enjoying each others company – in fact, they'd only argued once and it had been about the amount of chilli powder Rogue had been putting in a meal she'd been preparing.  No matter how much Rogue put in, Remy was still convinced it wasn't spicy enough.  The two had got into a heated argument, and Remy had told Rogue quite literally she couldn't cook for shit.  However two days later, they'd made up, after Remy had tasted Kitty's cooking and having admitted Rogue was a culinary genius compared to Kitty Pryde.   Things had been wonderful since.

             "Yeah, things have been good, apart from you dissin' my chilli chicken," Rogue folded her arms and pretended to be stubborn.

             "It was nice, just not hot enough, but lets not start that again," Remy held up his hands in his defence, "y'know, Friday is Valentines day…I'd like to take you out."

             "As in a date?"
             "Yeah," Remy nodded, he kept flicking through stations idly, "we agreed that when things were settling down between us and that we were better friends, then we could date…"

             "You agreed," Rogue pointed out.

             "Don't argue," Remy pleaded of her, "so what do you think?"

             "I think you're right," Rogue nodded, "Its been a while, lets try it."

             "Alright," Remy smiled, "But uh…don't use the serum, okay?" He kept his voice low, just in case anyone passing the recreation room might have heard.

             "Okay," Rogue nodded.  "It's a date."