Gloves. The gloves he peeled off her that first time. Rogue was staring at them as they lay on her bed on top of the pile with folded clothes, washed and ready to be put back into their drawers, if they ever made it that far. They were a new constant in her dress code. With her particular mutation, a closet full of gloves for every occasion was a natural but these had risen from mostly just laying there to everyday use. Bought on a whim because they looked cool and were thin enough to wear in the summer, she hadn't worn them much. The bold tattoo design had been a little too much for her, making her feel exposed as the likeness to real tattoos drew attention to her. Now, though, she loved them. The way they reminded her of that time. And her newfound self esteem made her like the way they drew the eyes of others. It was like a private 'fuck you' to anyone who dared believe she wouldn't overcome her hardships.

And that train of thought led her to the decision to get a real tattoo. She had a pretty good idea of what she was going to get so she went online to find a good artist. One that wouldn't have any issues with her skin. Searching for the perfect picture to mark her, she got a general idea about what she wanted and sent an email to a studio that she found she liked the work of.

It was a satisfying feeling, this new control of her life. For every day that passed, Rogue peeled off a little more of her clothes: a shortsleeved shirt or shorts instead of covering as much as she could. This new idea to get a tattoo was another important step in her liberation, to own her own skin. The line to get an appointment was fairly long, but it was worth the wait.

The second time they met up was like the first, without the apprehensiveness and the discomfort. Rogue dared herself to sass and swagger and it worked, he was hard and ready as they entered the room. The first coupling was quick and dirty and it was even better than she'd fantasized about from her memories.

The third time, they didn't even make it to the room. She rode him hard in the backseat of that pick up and it was wilder and more intense than she thought possible. Sabretooth pushed her to new revelations about herself every time but she was getting comfortable with it. Gone was her own judgmental views of herself. Whatever she liked, she should do. She was The Rogue for fucks sake. And he didn't judge her. In fact, Sabretooth seemed to indulge her. Maybe he'd seen all, done all and more before. But he didn't even cock a brow at whatever she did or, more often, what she let him do to her. Nor did he seem to hold her in contempt just because she was willingly submitting to him.

The third time, they actually talked more than just the barely necessary. He dropped her off as usual, this time with a promise to teach her more about how to handle and use her new senses.

And that was how they ended up on the roof to a run down apartment building. She was a good student, quickly picking up on his instructions on both how to scent emotions on people and how to spot danger in her surroundings and that in itself was a turn on.

Nothing to bother them was around, though, and he used the opportunity to once again unnerv her. Putting his hands around her waist, he lifted her slim form slightly, as if he'd hoist her over the edge before pulling her back flush against him, a hand around her throat pinning her to him. She gasped and he smirked in satisfaction. That tangy almost-fear would never cease to ignite a spark in him. Then her scent sweetened.

Fuck, she liked that! Sabretooth had done his fair share of freaky stuff in his long life, but this little slip of a woman continued to intrigue him. He pressed up against her back, nipping her neck and she instantly dropped her head in submission, a wanton moan leaving her lips. He couldn't help himself, the needy little sound pushed his impatience and he simply shredded her damn shirt, wanting more of her deliciously smooth, lurkingly dangerous skin. She gasped and he caught the tiny spike of irritation but he didn't give a flying fuck about whether she'd liked that shirt or not.

The irritation disapeared when his hand slipped down the waistline of her pants. Did she wear those damned cargos to make this easier? Not that he had anything against those pants that hung so low it looked like they'd fall off at any second.

"So wet and ready for me, little girl." He growled against her neck.

She arched and panted at his slight touch and he smirked at the way her scent spiked at his growl. He'd found out quickly that while she absolutely hated to be called a kid, calling her a little girl made her all hot and bothered. His girl was easy to turn on, even a low growl would make her squirm. What?! When did she become his girl?

He did her the favour of unbuttoning her pants rather than tear them off and he could see the muscles in her back strain as she braced herself against the ledge when he leaned his weight on her and slid into her warmth. It seemed he'd found yet another kink of hers, that she got turned on by fucking where they could get caught. Just knowing that he was her first for everything they did gave him great pleasure, possessive bastard that he was.

Sabretooth growled and dug his claws into her hip to still her as she tried to grind on his fingers and she immidately obeyed. He rewarded her with flicking her clit and the sounds she made made him nip her neck to still her.

"Quiet." He growled.

He slammed into her harder, and she was making little whining noises trying to obey him but when he continuously rubbed her sensitive nub she couldn't anymore and she screamed out her orgasm when she clenched around him, her contractions pulling him with her over the edge.

It wasn't until seconds later he realized she hadn't pulled as much from him as usual, maybe out of precaution from their exposed position. But it could be his mutation adapting to hers. He'd just have to explore this hypothesis more.

Rogue was stretched out on her side, the gloved fingers of the artist steadying her hip, the buzzing loud to her sensitive ears, nose invaded by the sharp scent of cleaning products mingled with blood and the burning sting of the needle piercing her skin. Funny how just weeks ago she would blush just at the thought of exposing way less of her skin, yet here she was, almost naked in front of a stranger. It was kind of cathartic, claiming her own skin by choosing the motive, where to put it and get it done. The smaller ones were already done. Scattered on her lower arm were small symbols of the events that led her to where she was now: a lip mark for her first kiss, two leeches for her skin, a sketchy treasure map for her road trip from home, three parallel red lines for wolverine, a stylized cross for the X-men, a horseshoe magnet for magneto, a heart of ice for Bobby and a tribal style statue of liberty.

The masterpiece though, because he had touched her life in several occasions and changed her more profoundly than even her parents throwing her out had, was taking shape on her hip and up her side. In vivid colors a Sabre-toothed cat, crouched to strike was appearing at the skilled hands of the artist. The muscles at the shoulders bunched, ears flattened and a menacing snarl on its face it looked beautiful and deadly. Just like him. Adding a sensual touch, the tail curled around her thigh. She was pulled out of her musings by careful hands swabbing down the raw skin of the tattoo.

"We'll stop here for this time. It's getting swollen and your skin will be better off with some time to heal."

The no-stress approach suited her fine. She'd be back in two weeks to finish it. Rogue looked down at the halfway done piece and it was even better than she had imagined it. It was too good to not show it off when it was done and with the still weeping skin wrapped up she decided to go on a quick shopping trip for some clothes that would flaunt it. She needed shorter gloves as well. A smirk graced her lips at the thought of how much she had changed. Changed indeed.

Logan met her in the hallway when she came home, shopping bags in hand but covered up enough to not show any of her still dressed tattoos. He discreetly sniffed the air but it didn't elude her and she rolled her eyes in annoyance. Nosy much?!

"Kid, are you hurt?"

He frowned, but the concerned expression seriously rubbed her the wrong way and she bristled.

"First of all, who the hell do you think you are to literally stick your nose in my business? And secondly I'm not a fucking kid anymore! I'm old enough to get a fucking tattoo."

She pulled the long glove down to expose the dressing of the tattoo, and she felt her lip curl of it's own volition into a baring of teeth. Logan stared at her, dumbstruck, and she turned to make a hasty retreat before he could come up with any questions.

"Language!"

He shouted after her in feeble attempt to restore the order in his world, where she was still a shy and well mannered girl and she snorted a private laugh that she was certain he could hear. Oh, he'd get to see the big tattoo in time. He wouldn't know the true meaning of it but she would gloat privately at what she blatantly would be rubbing in his face and he'd be clueless. When did she turn into a spiteful, vindictive bitch? And why hadn't she done it way back, because this was fun and exciting and... hunger inducing.

Rogues stomach growled, again, and she detoured to the kitchen. Seemed like she could eat constantly nowadays. Especially when she had done something that triggered her acquired healing. Like getting a tattoo. Luckily, her body didn't seem to reject the ink. Fleetingly she noted that triggering the healing also seemed to pull up the other characteristics of Sabretooth she'd absorbed. Like that charming little display of temper before.

And when it seemed Rogue had managed to master toeing the line of showing off the changes in her personality without causing too much suspicions, the shit suddenly hit the fan. It was in a danger room session of all places and she was teamed with Kitty against Bobby and Jubes but the other girls was counted out and it was just her and Iceman left on the stage.

"Come on, leech. It's not like I want to touch you." He leered.

"You know, you're more frigid than any sculpture I could make."

The taunts wasn't uncommon, she had always thought that he was trying to rile her up to get her to do something rash. But now, with her new senses, she picked up on his true intentions. He was just spiteful, contempt and disgust souring his smell and Rogue saw red. The Sabretooth in her head snarled and so did Rogue, a baring of impressive canines as she pounced. Bobby didn't even have time to react, unprepared for her improved speed and agility, and she grabbed him by the collar, throwing him 10 feet where he hit the wall.

His scent was turning into fear and she sucked it up greedily, letting it feed the rage, stalking him like prey. The smile that stretched her lips was bloodchillingly cold and anticipatory of the carnage to come. There was a whirlwind in her mind of all the personalities she'd ever absorbed abruptly returning and they were all yelling, foaming at the mouth, cheering her on. Someone caught the edge of her awareness, how she couldn't tell, but when Wolverine charged her, she dismissively waved her hand at him and as if she had practiced using it for years, Magneto's power was called upon and in her total control. Wolverine was thrown across the room hitting the wall, but before he could even land on the floor, he was thrown in the other direction, hitting the wall once more before she released him.

Slowly stalking the cowering boy in front of her, the blinding rage was replaced with eerily calm, cold calculation. She was taking her sweet time approaching him, building his fear and relishing the hunt and the absolute power she held over him now. Like a dear in the headlights, Iceman was frozen in place. 'Witty!' The Sabretooth in her head whispered in a gleeful voice.

Rogue's clawed hand reached out slowly before pulling Bobby to his feet by the throat. Leaning in close to his neck, she inhaled deeply and her eyes almost rolled back into her head while her head lolled back, drunk on power.

"He's right. The scent of fear is as close to sex you could get without actually fucking." She whispered to herself.

"Well, leech or not, there's no fucking way I'd ever suck anything of yours." She leered to the shivering boy and there was a roar of laughter in her head from Sabretooth. "I'd like to gut you slowly and tear your throat out, though, but I reckon that wouldn't go down well with the rest o' the crew."

She punched him in the nose, hearing a satisfying crunch and as she released him, he slid down the wall, crying like a child. Rogue stepped back and that was the moment the adrenaline high left her. The rapid changes in her body had her wobbling on her feet before she felt her knees buckle, darkness claiming her before she hit the floor.

The sound of voices grated on her mind and drove her out of her blissful unconsciousness. Rogue slowly lifted her pounding head and found that she was in the lab. Hank, the professor and Logan stood there, following her movements with clear unease.

'Are you snooping around in here, Charles?' Her inner Magneto piped up. Sabretooth snarled and launched into a marathon of dirty jokes and fantasies, or memories, who could tell? of blood and destruction. Rogue realized that he was covering up, doing his best to keep her mind protected and she allowed him.

"Marie, how are you feeling?"

It was a good thing, and probably calculated to be, that it was Hank who approached her. Genuine concern was all she could get from him even though he was cautious.

"Feel like a train wreck. I'll live. But I want food. Lots of food. Now."

Hank nodded once but nobody moved and she hoped that the professor made a mental shout out to someone, because she was starving.

"What the hell happened in there, kid? Logan clearly hadn't got the memo and she gritted her teeth.

"He was nasty to me. Again. Something in me snapped. Obviously my mutation accelerated or something, everyone returned." She tapped her temple.

The Wolverine in her head was neatly shut inside his cell. Funny that he had once been the one she had given more leeway before but how Sabretooth now was the apex predator prowling the space.

"I really don't feel like doing this right now, I don't know anything more than you do. I just want to eat a ton of food and then go crash in my own bed."

Logan looked at her, disbelieving, but he left it at that. Hank and the professor had a silent conversation before agreeing to her conditions.

"We will talk about this later." Logan held her gaze, showing her that she wasn't off the hook yet.

Rogue gave him a calculating stare and inclined her head once to show she'd gotten the message before she got up and trailed after Hank to the kitchen, leaving a bewildered Wolverine in her wake.