A/N - I know it's been ages since I last updated but you have to forgive me. I just got married (yep! I'm hitched!) and have had absolutely NO time with all the planning. But now that I have settled into being an old married couple, I am back to my story and ready for reviews! Please let me know what you think. I'm really trying to up my writing and any feed back (good or bad) would be awesome. Enjoy!

Disclaimer - the usual, I don't own the x-men...would love to though.

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Could it have been the Cajun?

Rogue wondered again for the hundredth time as she grabbed the pillow from beneath her head. She proceeded to smash the abused object over her eyes, blocking the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.

Kitty and Jubilee had lived up to their end of the bargain and provided a wild night of partying for her birthday. Their enthusiasm and non-stop chatter were a welcome distraction from the troubling events of that morning. Unfortunately, their zeal had been highly contagious and Rogue had been swept along by their tide of giggles and youthful excitement… and was currently paying for it in a most obscenely head-pounding, eye exploding way.

How much did I drink??? If the lovely cotton sewer taste in her mouth was any indication, A LOT.

After their shopping expedition, the girls had insisted on taking her to a nightclub and everything from there was a bit of a blur. Being in the middle of a crowd was still an intoxicating feeling for her – Rogue wondered if the feeling would ever fade. It had been so many years she lived in fear of other people and not being in control of her power that she felt a thrill of exhilaration whenever she pushed through a group of people. Sometimes she would purposely brush against a person in passing, just for the sudden rush that accompanied the knowledge that she could do such a simple act without the terror that shadowed her in the past.

The tequila shots had only amplified her emotional high. Dear lord, why would anyone invent such a horrid drink? Rogue groaned as she groped blindly through her night table drawer in search of Advil. Finding the small pill bottle one-handed while she stubbornly held her pillow to her eyes took a few excrutiating minutes but she was rewarded when her fingertips brushed the smooth plastic surface.

"Oh yes, do your work baby", Rogue muttered and swallowed the pills down eagerly without water. She flopped back down and immediately regretted as the sudden impact of her head against the mattress caused black spots to appear behind her eyelids.

The mini fireworks brought her back to her original thoughts and she replayed the scene in the kitchen again in her mind. What were those strange images? What was that surge of energy that bolted through her body? She didn't want to admit it but she knew the point of origin had started in her fingertips.

Where the Cajun had been touching her.

She shivered despite the warmth of her comforter cocoon. Could her powers be returning? The thought brought on a rush of despair and Rogue gasped from the onslaught. Taking deep breaths, she managed to calm herself down. When she had first taken the cure, she had been in perpetual fear that it would not last and any minute her powers would return and she would be right back where she started. As time passed, the fear had lessened and gradually disappeared. But now?She thought back desperately to what this could mean and why it was happening now after so much time?

Rogue had never been one to dwell on things she couldn't change. She had to in order to cope with the magnitude of her powers. Now, she determinedly pushed her fears aside. There was no point worrying about it until she knew for certain what was happening. She would need to find out. And she knew who could help. With a grimace, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up slowly. Squinting still against the sunlight, she headed towards the bathroom for a shower. Though her progress was slow, her tread was firm. Rogue needed answers.

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The Beast had thankfully not probed too much when she requested the blood work done for her. She cited feeling a little ill as the reason but he had not been convinced. There must have been something in her eyes that checked his questions and curiosity. Although Rogue was not ready to discuss what she privately suspected, she was grateful for his sensitivity. He had left her only with the promise to seek him out if there was anything she needed help with.

Breathing a little easier now that she had made the first steps in searching for answers, she decided she needed to work off some steam and headed to the Danger Room. It was probably her favourite place in the Mansion besides the incredibly well-stocked library.

Rogue changed quickly into her work out gear and slipped into the control room. Feeling a little reckless, she decided on one of Wolverine's training sessions. His combat sequences tended to be more about hand to hand fighting than some of the other programs that focused on strategy and attaining a goal. Today though, she needed a brain-less workout that would keep her mind off the possible results from her blood tests.

The swish of the Danger Room doors was the only sound as she stepped through and made her way to the centre of the completely bare room.

"Activate session."

Moments after speaking the command, Rogue stepped back as the room transformed itself. She didn't know what to expect, having picked a program randomly, but past experience made her cautious and she tensed for battle. The white walls faded into a deep night scene and Rogue found herself suspended high above a sparkling body of water. She raised her eyes and scanned her surroundings. At first she didn't recognize the murky green floors and peculiar shape of the platform she stood on.

Then it hit her with the impact of a freigh train – the Statue of Liberty.

Before she had a chance to process the shocking thought, she sensed another presence behind her. A vicious growl was all the warning she got before she instinctively spun to the left and crouched into a defensive stance. From the corner of her eye she caught a blur of movement and she realized she had narrowly missed being charged from behind by her attacker. She watched warily as he swung around and faced her, teeth bared and claws drawn.

It was a face from her nightmares.

Dead black eyes and a hulking mass of muscles ending in deadly three inch claws. Sabretooth.