A/N: Here's the nxt chapter. I'm really focusing on Romy in this one, but also trying to tell you about them individually. I think the next one will be in Kitty's POV, and maybe Piotr's. That means I'll put a little Kiotr. So then the next next chapter could be in Jonda's POV...

Chapter 4: Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover (Rogue/Remy)

ROGUE'S POV- FIRST INDIVIDUAL SESSION

I stepped inside Logan's "office" and pulled up my gloves subconsciously. Logan was sitting at a desk looking agitated; it seems to be a common expression for him. I sit across from him and fold my hands into my lap. He sniffs, frowns, and then shakes it off and his face becomes unreadable.

"I've never been a counselor so don't expect me to solve your problems," he growls.

I scoff and glare at him.

"What makes ya think Ah need anyone to solve mah problems for meh? Ah'm not here by choice."

He looked at me with an odd expression.

"Then why are you here?"

"Diana, my social worker. She's in charge or meh until Ah'm eighteen, that's in one an' a half years. Then Ah can go die in a ditch an' no one will get in trouble for it."

Logan nodded in understanding.

"You've got spunk, Stripes."

"Stripes?"

"You've got stripes in your hair don't you?"

I nodded.

"So, I'm going to call you Stripes. Deal with it."

I shrugged.

"Whateva."

"Now, so that Chuck doesn't give me a lecture, let's talk about why Diana sent you here. I hear you've been in some fights."

"Yeah."

"And you've been kicked out of every boarding school you're sent to.

"That's what Ah'm told."

"And you've been to one foster home-"

I growled a growl that rivaled what I'm sure would be one of his scariest. He let that subject drop, smart man.

"Why have you been fighting, Stripes?"

"People piss meh off, Ah send 'em to the hospital on a gurney."

He chuckled.

"I don't disagree with that… but Chuck and everyone else do. I suppose you need to learn how to control your anger."

"Ah know that, but Ah realleh don't care all that much."

REMY'S POV- FIRST INDIVIDUAL SESSION

"So, Remy, what crimes were you charged with?"

"Don' y' know dat already, Jeannie? Dey gave y' a file on Remy, didn' dey?"

"Well, yes, but I would like you to tell me yourself."

"Well, Remy was sentenced for drinkin' under de age of vingt et un, an' some t'eft 'ere an' dere." (twenty one, A/N: I think)

"That's good Remy, the first step in overcoming any problem is acceptance."

I rolled my eyes slightly. Where did this girl come from? An uplifting, inspiring movie? A Hallmark card?

"Dat's nice, Jeannie. Can Remy leave now?"

"No, Remy. Tell me about your powers."

"Remy uses kinetic energy to charge t'ings. Remy lets go, dey go boom."

"What kind of things?"
"Playin' cards, mostly. But Remy t'inks he can charge most anyt'ing."

"Hmm, that's interesting. Is there anything else you've done in New Orleans that you're not proud of? Or that maybe the judge wouldn't have liked, or that caused you to drink?"

I hesitated. She's supposed to "help" me right? Maybe she should know about… no. No one can find out.

"Remy be a ladies' man. He would go to de bar, drink some bourbon, find a sexy femme and charm 'er into bed. Wasn' 'ard, but sure wort' it."

Haha, she's blushing. I don't think she expected that.

"Th-Thank you for telling me that, Remy."

I smirked.

"You may leave, if you'd like, Remy."

Of course I took her up on that offer. I made my way t the kitchen to see what kind of snacks they have around here.

There's a nice a—poking out of the fridge, might as well stop to admire it.

"Ah know you're lookin' at mah a—Cajun! Knock it off!" the familiar southern voice called.

"Désolé, chéri, Remy can't help it. Yo' a—is just so sexy."

She stands up and faces me, a light blush obvious on her face.

"Shut up, Cajun. Unless you want meh to kick your a--."

"Dat won' be necessary, chéri."

She scoffs, grabs a can of soda out of the fridge, slams it shut and then proceeds to sit at the counter. I smirk, reopen the fridge and take a soda as well. After closing the fridge, I sit next to her.

"So… how was your session with Jean?" she whispers, looking down at the table.

"Fine. How was yours with monsieur Logan?"

"It was okay. He's not realleh a counselor, Xavier just made him mahne for some reason."

"Mebbe you're alike."

"Doubt it."

"You gotta stop bein' so closed minded, chéri. Never know what might be right under y' nose."

She smiled slightly at me, and I can't help but want to see a real smile gracing her lips. What is wrong with me?

"That's actually pretteh smart, Swamp Rat."

"Swamp Rat? Y' givin' Remy pet names now?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked me lightly in the arm.

"Dat hurts Remy, chéri."

"You'll live, Swamp Rat."

"Mebbe Remy won'. Watcha gon' do den?"

"Celebrate."

"Dat wasn' very nice," I said with a frown.

"Deal with it."

ROGUE'S POV- CONTINUED FROM REMY'S POV

He looks like a lost puppy, with that frown. And his eyes, God, his eyes. Red on black and glowing like burning embers. I think I would be okay if I died staring into those orbs. What the hell am I thinking?!

'You're falling in love.' A familiar voice called from inside my head.

'Ah am not!' I shout/think back.

'I'm inside your head, Anna. I know what you really think of him.'

'Shut up! You're wrong!'

'You know I'm not.'