You know the usual - unfortunately I don't own them :) Please review! I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue on with this one so I thought I'd post a bit of it to see if anyone is interested. Ideas and constructive criticism are always welcome.
Rogue hurried through the mansion towards her room. What in the hell just happened? Her mind raced. She almost let a total stranger kiss her. What was that? Certainly having a bad day was no reason to be so reckless. She was so lost in thought she didn't notice Bobby walking right next to her.
"EARTH TO ROGUE!" he yelled jumping up and down next to her. He started shooting tiny ice picks out of his fingertips to her cheek.
"Owww, Bobby! OK, OK, I'm listening! What do you want?" she screamed, halting in her tracks.
Bobby looked at her thoughtfully, a frown forming on his face. "I forgot. But it was important."
"I get daggers to my face for 'you forget'?"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic! They weren't daggers," he rolled his eyes. Bobby was easily Rogue's best friend in the mansion. With Kitty, Lorna and Jubilee being younger, Piotr being well, really Russian, and Ali being pretty self-absorbed, Bobby was always the one she felt she could talk to. Their relationship was that of a brother and sister, although they would each claim to be like the elder sibling. Bobby was, above all, a class clown. The only thing he took seriously was Rogue's feelings. He knew how easy it was for her to get down in the dumps, so he would be sure to put on a show until she was out of it. There were a few people in the mansion that would swear that the two had feelings stronger than friendship, but their love always remained purely platonic.
Rogue finally got to her room and Bobby followed her in, not bothering to ask for permission. He flopped down carelessly onto her bed, placing his hands behind his head. "So, did you meet this new guy yet? Lorna is just beaming about how dreamy he is," Bobby asked, an annoyance in his tone.
"Awww, Bobby, are ya jealous? Why don't you just ask her out already?" Rogue yelled from the bathroom as she readied her bath.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Rogue. I don't even like her! I mean, I do, but the same way I like Kitty… or Jubilee. Not like that."
"Like that? What are ya, 16?" she joked. "Now, get out. Ah'm gonna take a bath."
"Sure you don't need a hand?" he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh Ah didn't know you were hankerin' for a coma," she joked bitterly as he got off the bed to leave.
He moved over to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "Oh, come on, Rogue. There are plenty of guys that would risk a coma to scrub your back." He gave her a friendly swat on the butt and exited quickly before she could kill him. She smiled in spite of herself. Bobby did always know how to make her feel better.
Rogue tossed and turned restlessly in bed. The clock read 2:34 am. Just 3 minutes since the last time she checked. The rest of her day had gone by in a flash. At dinner, Storm introduced everyone to Gambit and Rogue did her best to eat and leave quickly in order to avoid running into the Cajun again. And now, here she was, laying awake thinking about him like some love-sick school girl. She didn't get it. He was arrogant, incorrigible, and everything she hated in a man. Most importantly, he oozed sex, which meant he was dangerous. Especially to her. But yet, in that flicker of insecurity when she saw his eyes she thought she saw something else in him. Something good.
She sighed and ripped the covers from her bed. She decided that if she was going to be up all night thinking, she'd prefer to do it on her favorite spot on the roof. It was a warm autumn night and she relished in the fact that the roof was private enough that she could go up in just her tank top and shorts that she was sleeping in.
She pulled open her balcony door and flew up to the roof above her room. She walked along the roof to the turn where her spot was only to find someone in her place. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the back of the Cajun's head. Certain that he hadn't seen her, she began to back up slowly.
"Couldn' sleep, chére?" he asked without turning towards her. He puffed lightly on his cigarette and stared off into the night sky. "Can't sneak up on a thief," he commented when she didn't answer, and she was almost certain that he was wearing that smirk again. "Come take a seat," he said, patting the empty spot next to him on the ledge.
Rogue, suddenly aware of how much skin she was showing hesitated. "Ah… shouldn't. Ah'll leave ya to your thoughts," she said, but made no move to leave.
With that, Remy turned towards her. His eyes glowed a fiercer red when he saw her. He drank in the view like a man who'd been deprived water for days. Her hair was swept up in a messy ponytail with a few ivory strands framing her face. The thin white tank top she wore hugged her braless curves while her snug shorts were cut so short that he was sure, if she turned around, that a peek of tush would be showing. He momentarily considered letting her leave just to see, but decided that some one on one time would be more beneficial. "S'il vous plaît, chére, I insist."
Rogue hesitantly moved towards him and sat herself at arm's length next to him on the ledge. Remy watched her questioningly, but made no comment about her odd behavior, worried that he may scare her off. She sat stiffly, avoiding his eyes.
"So, it sounds like I'm on your team, Rogue," he said, careful to use her name so that she'd feel more comfortable. "Blue team, under ol' One Eye. I guess Stormy didn' want moi on her team callin' her Stormy all de time," he said with a chuckle.
Rogue put on a giggling face, but inside she was in a panic. Why oh why did he have to be on her team. She practically lets him kiss her the first time they spar and now she was going to have to do it every day. "Welcome aboard, Cajun."
"Merci, petit," Remy answered, daring to scoot a bit closer to her, knowing that with her sitting on the cornered edge there was no where else for her to go. "Maybe you let Remy take you out sometime and you can fill 'im in on dis place."
Rogue noticed him moving closer and tried to stay calm. Clearly he didn't know about her powers or he wouldn't be moving in so close. She couldn't explain why, but she didn't want him to know about them. It was inevitable that, considering how close he was already trying to get, he would have to be told soon. "Well, Ah'm not really up to date on all the mansion gossip. You'd be better off askin' Jubilee and Kitty about that," she answered, pulling even closer to the corner she perched on.
Remy pressed closer still, sensing her nervousness. He was confused why a woman as beautiful as she would seem so clueless about flirting. He imagined in a place like this that she must get hit on quite a bit, but that didn't seem to be the case. "Aww, but chére, I'd much prefer your company," he said, inching closer and leaning his face in towards her until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. He smelled of clove cigarettes, cinnamon sticks, and bourbon. Oh, and trouble, she reminded herself, he reeked of trouble.
Realizing how close he was getting, she leaned back until there was nowhere to go, so she pushed herself gently off of the roof and began to float by where she originally sat. Remy looked over to her, surprised. "Oh, so flyin's your power?" he asked, mostly to himself, still not understanding how that fit with Wolverine's comment earlier.
With his words, Rogue's face turned somber. "No," she replied, "not my power. Ah should be gettin' back to bed now, Remy. G'night." She was gone before he could ask her to stay.
