Rogue fought back a yawn as she eyed the run down restaurant in front of her. As hungry as she was, this sort of place wasn't her idea of a homely establishment, especially after eating her fill of Kentucky BBQ in Louisville the past three days. And as good as the food had been it hadn't been enough to extinguish the sense of homesickness she'd been carrying around the last few weeks. As much as she'd fantasized about actually getting away from the mansion, the last six months had been little more than a haze of long highways, cheap motels, and bland franchise food. It wasn't until the holidays came and went that she began to miss the chaotic nature of the institute. That longing for a sense of home was probably the only reason why she ever agreed to come here in the first place. That and she never could say no to the mansion's other resident Southern. Though she and Sam shared few interests, the one thing they could bond over was the lack of properly brewed sweet tea and a mutual hatred of the North's passing attempt at chili.

With a sigh of resignation, Rogue cut the engine to her bike and pulled her bag from the storage compartment. Despite her loneliness, she was still stubborn enough to see this trip through for the next three months. If she went back now she'd be proving to everyone else that she was still helpless, still at the mercy of her own chaotic powers. Lose control of your powers twice after saving the world from a domineering maniac and suddenly everyone in the mansion turned into a mother hen.

It didn't help that she and the other X-Men had become household names once the news media finally realized how close the world had come to ending. It was only in the past half a year that she'd been able to go anywhere without being recognized and she'd jumped at the freedom it offered, selling the Professor some bullshit line about needing to find herself away from the rest of the mansion. Now, though, she'd have gladly traded eating alone in this dump for the hustle of trying to get a bagel in the morning. If she was lucky tonight would be a highlight in an otherwise uneventful trip, but knowing Sam taste in food that was unlikely.

A light wind picked up as she began the long slow walk towards the entry way and she pulled her coat closer around her. She might have promised to eat here but that didn't mean she had to be pleasant about it.

"Mais, jamais d'la vie! Didn't expect such a pretty face t'be greetin' me this far from home," a man drawled from the alley way behind her.

Every hair on Rogue's neck stood on end at the voice and she fought to keep her body relaxed despite the anxious chatter that had kicked up in her head. "Can I help you?" she asked tightly, shifting her stance as she turned towards the shadows.

A sharp flare came from the alley, the light caressing the lines of the man's face before disappearing into the night. Her jaw clenched as red on black eyes peered out at her. "Sure hope so, p'tite."

Rogue narrowed her eyes at him. "What the hell you doing this far from the swamp, Gumbo?"

Gambit only grinned and pulled the cigarette from his lips. "Could be askin' the same of you. After Area 51 I'm surprised the spook's letting any of ya'll out to play."

"Go fuck yourself, Gambit," she snarled, turning on her heel before she lunged at him. Leave it to that coward to bring up the worst incident the X-Men had to date. The memories of that week still haunted her, the afterimages of the experiments burned deeper in her mind than any psyche could hope to. It still left a bitter taste in her mouth when she thought of it, a taste that even the best Southern bourbon couldn't wash out.

She'd barely gone two steps before a light touch on her wrist made her pause from its offered intimacy. "D'sole, Rogue. I only know what they reported on the news," he murmured.

Rogue jerked her hand away and tried to force the sudden tension from her shoulders. "They had those kids strung up on the walls like slabs of meat. Those tests they were running." Her voice fell flat, her eyes fluttering shut as she fought back tears. "They weren't any more than a lab rat to the government. When we got there there had to have been at least a hundred locked up in cages. Most of them were younger than Jaimie, just looking for a hot meal and a place to sleep after being kicked out of their homes for being different. The bastards didn't even have the decency to bury them, just shot them and threw them in a pit to rot. Bet the news skipped that part," she spat. Her chest clenched and she bit her tongue to keep the sorrow and anger at bay.

"Didn't know it was anything more than a botched recon mission. I should have been there," he finally said. His voice carried more of an apology than she realized him capable of.

Rogue swallowed hard and blinked back her tears. "Yeah, well. You would have if you cared enough to answer your damn phone."

When he didn't respond Rogue walked into the restaurant without a backward glance.

xxxxx

To call the bar nee restaurant a dump would have barely scratched the surface of what greeted Rogue. Pieces of junk from every era hung from the ceiling, a miserable ode to bygone days where everything appeared to be made from tin and kitsch. Dust clung to everything higher than six feet off the ground while spiderwebs drifted lazily in time with the fans.

"How many?" the older, bored woman with frizzing grey hair asked as she approached.

"Just one, please," Rogue replied. Her bag caught something and she jerked back only to find a stuff possum grinning up at her.

"Your friend ain't joining ya?" the woman asked, her eyes shifting towards the door. A hand at her shoulder and a wash of tobacco smoke let her know she'd been followed.

"Damnit, Cajun. Get your sleezy hands off of me," she hissed.

For once Gambit let go without a word. Rogue turned to face him, fists clenched in anger. He held his hands in front of him and Rogue couldn't decide whether it was an offer of peace or a defensive move.

"At least let Remy buy you dinner," he said when she didn't move to strike him.

Rogue stared at him long enough that the hostess cleared her throat impatiently. "Why?"

"To make up for his manners out there," he said, tossing his head in the direction of the door.

The hostess pursed her lips and stared between the two, obviously desperate for some sort of gossip in the sleepy town.

Rogue ignored her and stared down the man in front of her. "What the hell do you want with me, Cajun?"

"Easy," he said with a grin. "Marry me."

xxxx