Chapter Eight

Kayla and Logan hadn't been too worried about Rogue going off and spending the day exploring the city with Remy. They trusted that Rogue was quite capable of taking care of herself, and that Remy would be more than happy to offer her his protection too. This did not stop their concern when they heard about the unfortunate mugger Rogue had faced.

When Remy and Rogue pulled up outside the LeBeau house, Logan and Jean-Luc were sat on the front porch, drinking whiskey and not talking to each other again. The sound of their arrival summoned Kayla out from the house, followed by Merci. Although Kayla hadn't been too keen on Rogue learning to ride a motorcycle herself, she didn't seem particularly phased about her riding behind Remy.

"Rogue, honey, did you have a good day?" Kayla asked once Rogue had slid off the back and pulled off her helmet. "Merci told me Remy had taken you out to see the city."

"Yeah, it was good," Rogue said with a smile. Then, with a sly sideways smirk at Remy, she added, "I spent the day dancing with a thief on the streets."

Kayla looked confused, but happy for her, and Rogue explained about her day. Merci's expression got darker and darker the more Rogue told, and eventually the blonde stormed off towards Remy and the garage with a thunderous expression. Rogue supposed she'd gone to remind Remy that Rogue was 'only eighteen!' again.

It was only when Rogue was explaining about the mugger that Kayla grew concerned.

"I'm fine," Rogue hastened to reassure her. "The guy had crummy technique, didn't even land a scratch."

Logan grunted his approval at that, then waved her over to him. "Take off your gloves," he told her. It was a ritual they went through after every training session, as it gave Logan the chance to survey and damage she might have done to her knuckles or wrists. She had never broken anything, but she'd had some pretty spectacular bruises after some of the rougher lessons.

But taking her gloves off in front of anyone was not something Rogue felt comfortable doing. It made her feel indecent, now. She knew that there was nothing special about her hands, that there was nothing to be ashamed of, but her gloves had become a permanent fixture in her life, only taking them off to wash or sleep. It had taken her weeks to get used to Logan seeing her without the gloves, and that had only been because he'd refused to continue the training sessions unless he knew that she wasn't doing too much damage to her hands.

To take off her gloves here and now, in an environment she wasn't comfortable in and surrounded by people she didn't really know, was an almost terrifying concept and Rogue baulked at it. She shook her head, clasping her hands tightly around the strap of the motorcycle helmet she still held.

"You know I don't like taking my gloves off," Rogue reminded Logan quietly.

"Well you're going to," he told her, tone leaving no room for argument. He softened slightly after a moment. "We can go up to the bedrooms, if you want?"

Rogue shrugged, still not entirely comfortable with it, but knowing that Logan would get his way somehow. "I'll just take the helmet to Remy," she said, and shared a secretive grin with Kayla when Logan gave a low growl of protest at her calling him Remy, rather than Gambit.

"Remy can't help what his heart hopes for! It doesn't mean he'll do anything about it." Rogue heard Remy say as she neared the garage, and her grin turned into a full blown smile before she could check it. Rogue felt a little giddy, like she was riding out an adrenaline rush, and took a moment to relax back to normal before she coughed purposefully to announce her presence.

Merci looked furious, still, and Remy was leaning against a workbench, arms crossed over his chest defensively. When she saw Rogue, Merci's face shifted strangely to something that was attempting to be friendly, in spite of how angry she clearly still was.

"I honestly can't touch anyone," Rogue tried to explain to her. "So me and Remy - it's just flirting. You can ask Kayla about my power, if you like."

"I have," Merci said, more sharply than she intended because she immediately looked contrite. "But I don't like your 'just flirting'. Nothing good will come of it." Then she brushed past Rogue and out of the garage.

Rogue watched her go curiously, not knowing what to make of the other woman. After a moment, she walked over to where Remy was standing and leant against the workbench next to him. "I don't think she likes me," Rogue commented.

"She likes you just fine," Remy said. "She just doesn't like the idea of 'us'."

Rogue snorted and shook her head. "I can't touch," she reiterated. "I will never be part of an 'us'. Not seriously, anyway."

"Remy thinks you're too hasty in that judgement," he replied, with a soft smile. "Just makes things interesting," he added lecherously with an exaggerated wink, and made Rogue laugh.

She handed over the helmet, turning it the right way up and pointing out the ding in the surface from where she'd dropped it. "I didn't notice at the time," Rogue lied.

Remy shook his head. "Liar," he pointed out. "You shouldn't ride with a damaged helmet. One flaw can make it a useless ornament," he explained.

"There wasn't much we could do at the time - I didn't fancy waiting around until someone picked us up," Rogue explained. "Would've made the mugger business messier." She clenched and unclenched one of her hands. Rogue hadn't noticed until Logan had pointed it out, but her knuckles were a bit sore.

"You alright, Chére?" Remy asked, concerned at the slight wince she'd made.

Rogue nodded. "I'm sure it's nothing. Logan's going to take a look in a minute, make sure nothing's wrong."

"Can Remy see?" he asked.

Her instant reaction was to tell him no. Rogue didn't like anyone seeing her with her gloves off - strangely charming young men or not - but Remy looked so honestly concerned about her, and he'd been so worried earlier when he'd found her after the fight… she shrugged. "I don't like taking my gloves off," she told him. "I guess you can check too, but you have to remember not to touch me."

That had been the hardest thing about Logan check her hands for sprains and breaks post-lesson. His first reaction was to take her hands in his and bend them and twist them, fingers prodding at the joints to see if anything felt strange. Logan had come very close to getting zapped by Rogue's power a number of times because of that instinct, but Rogue had always been that little bit faster at hiding her hands before he took them.

They'd reached a compromise, of course - if Rogue wasn't wearing her gloves, then Logan had to be wearing a pair instead. Opposite to Rogue, Logan hated wearing gloves for any length of time, and the first thing he'd done when putting them on had been to punch his claws through the material.

Remy nodded in agreement to Rogue's condition, and left the helmet on the workbench surface before following her out of the garage and into the house, nodding at her explanation that she didn't like taking off her gloves where she might touch anyone.

"What's Gumbo doing here?" Logan grumbled when the pair of them appeared in the doorway of the bedroom he and Kayla were sharing. Kayla was in the room too, but apart from looking up and smiling at Rogue when she arrived, was ignoring them in favour of doing something fancy to her hair.

"Remy asked. He was worried I got hurt, so I said ok," Rogue explained, sitting on the bed next to Logan with a bounce and grinning at the complaint she got for it. "I'm fine," she added, when Remy looked worried.

"We'll see," Logan argued.

"It was just a couple of punches," Rogue complained. "It barely even counted as a fight! The guy just kept lunging at me."

"I think you broke his nose," Remy said, unhelpfully.

"Gloves. Off," Logan ordered.

Rogue scowled and took her time unbuttoning the tops of the gloves and peeling them down her arm and off her fingers. Her hands really were very pale, she considered. Rogue was naturally quite pale, but now that her hands never saw any sunlight they looked almost ghostly compared to the faint tan of her upper arm. As for whether they were hurt or not, aside from a little redness around her knuckles and small patch of scraped skin, there was nothing wrong with them.

"You remembered the techniques I've been showing you?" Logan asked her as he checked over the joints.

"Yes," Rogue said exasperatedly. "I'm fine." She took her hand back from him, and waved her fingers in a mocking wave. "See? All fine."

Logan grunted and, finally satisfied that she really was 'fine', sat back and pulled his own gloves off, only not throwing them to the opposite corner of the room when he saw Kayla's frown. "Just want to know you're ok, kid," he told Rogue as she pulled her gloves back on, and redid the buttons on her gloves.

Rogue let her frustration fade and smiled warmly at him. "I know," she said. "I just-"

"Don't like taking your gloves off," he finished for her, with a shake of his head. "I know."

When Rogue looked up from her hands, Logan was watching her with a bemused sort of fondness, as though he wasn't entirely sure what to do about her. It made something warm uncurl inside her chest and Rogue had to wonder if that feeling was what it was like to have a father. When she glanced back at the doorway, Remy had left. She wasn't sure what to make of that, so she decided to ignore it.

"I'll wait downstairs," Logan told Kayla, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. Then he nodded to Rogue, and left.

"Are you two heading out?" Rogue said, toeing off her boots and shifting so she was sat cross-legged at the end of the bed, watching Kayla fix the pins that had been loosened by Logan's gesture.

"Yes. Merci and Henri said something about a lovely wine bar just down the road that we should try out, so Logan and I are escaping for a couple of hours," Kayla explained.

Rogue grinned. "A wine bar? Logan?"

"Oh, shush you. Logan can be civilised when he tries to be. He's spent most of today in brooding silence in a corner with Jean-Luc, so he should be fully stocked with civility."

Rogue giggled at that description and nodded. "Does Jean-Luc ever talk?" she asked. "I don't think I've seen him say a word."

"He wished me good morning," Kayla said, then frowned. "And you shouldn't speak ill of our host."

"I'm not speaking ill!" Rogue protested. "It was genuinely something I was curious about."

Kayla snorted and smiled fondly at Rogue through the mirror's reflection. "I hear you and Remy are getting on very well," she said, leaving the remark open for comment on Rogue's part.

"He's very charming," Rogue said with a small smile. "He has the strangest tales he tells, I'm half convinced he's made most of them up."

"I saw that he went and joined you on the balcony last night," Kayla remarked. "That was nice of him."

"He was worried that I thought his family might disapprove of me," Rogue explained. "Then he kept me company when I said I don't like being around too many people."

"Are you ok in crowds?" Kayla asked, suddenly concerned. "I didn't think you had a problem, because we met you in that bar and you were fine, but if it's something you don't like we'll need to try and come up with a solution for that if you want to return to school-"

"I'm fine," Rogue said with a bit of a laugh, reassuring Kayla with the same words she'd tried to reassure Logan with earlier. "I don't like crowds, exactly, but I can deal with them. Can we get back to talking about the cute guy who escorted me around his home city now, please?"

Kayla laughed as well, turning on the stool to face Rogue now that she'd finished her make up. It wasn't often that Kayla wore make up - she didn't need to, she was gorgeous without it - but whenever she and Logan went out on one of their date nights she put in a bit of extra effort. She also did things with her hair that seemed to defy all logic and plausibility and looked absolutely stunning.

"So tell me about your Remy," Kayla invited Rogue.

Rogue blushed a bit at Kayla's use of the word 'your' and how possessive it sounded, and smiled a bit at it too. "He showed me around the city, and we wandered around the French Quarter most of the afternoon, and he had a story for every street, like the whole city was his home. And when I said I didn't have any exciting stories, he led me to where a group of musicians were playing. I really wasn't just joking earlier, we really did spend a couple of hours dancing in the street and he is a fantastic dancer."

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun," Kayla said, smiling warmly. "He didn't say anything too inappropriate? I know Gambit can be a bit forward sometimes."

"Oh he said plenty of inappropriate things," Rogue replied with a laugh. "But he's so damn charming about it."

"And he's gorgeous," Kayla added.

"That too!" Rogue agreed. "And the inappropriate stuff wasn't serious, you know? He was quite the gentleman most of the day."

Kayla bit her lip, obviously trying to decide whether to tell Rogue something or not, and finally nodded decisively to herself. "Merci's worried," she told Rogue gently.

Rogue hunched her shoulders a bit and nodded. "I don't think she likes me," she said, just as she had to Remy not long before.

"It's not that," Kayla soothed. "It's just that Gambit doesn't have a great history in the love department, apparently. He falls in love very easily and she worries for him. Merci thinks that your mutant powers and your age are going to lead to him getting his heart broken again. She doesn't think you'd do it on purpose, she just thinks you're too different, and that you being untouchable is just a challenge that Remy wants to solve."

Rogue couldn't meet Kayla's eyes, and inspected the seams of her nice gloves, checking that the excitement of the day hadn't damaged them in anyway. "I'm not totally innocent," she said after a long minute and it didn't look as though Kayla was going to say anything more. "That's part of why David ended up in a coma and I got kicked out." Which was more, far more, than she'd ever said on that topic before.

Kayla reached across the space between them, and wrapped her hand around one of Rogue's. "I think…" she said, trailing off briefly. "I think we're only here for a month. That you shouldn't worry about things too much. I think you should take advantage of whatever opportunities arise, but not expect anything more than can fit in four weeks vacation time." She stopped, and Rogue looked up to meet her eyes. "You are young and beautiful. Try not to break any hearts, and try not to let your heart get broken. But don't worry too much about it."

Rogue smiled at her, and squeezed her hand. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

"You're welcome," Kayla replied with a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Logan's waiting for me."

"Have fun."

"I will," Kayla promised with a wink and a wave, leaving Rogue to her own thoughts.

-xXx-

The following weeks were spent in much the same fashion as the first day had been, with Remy showing Rogue around the city and showing her all the things that she would have missed if she visited just as a tourist. Some days Kayla and Logan came with them, but more often than not it was just the two of them.

Remy did show her to the jazz club he'd talked of the first day, and multiple others too. He had a natural grace and fluidity of movement that meant he was a brilliant dancer, and learning from him was easy. Rogue being able to dance on her own was a natural progression of dancing with him, something she couldn't have been ashamed of even if she'd remembered to feel self conscious about it. Dancing with Remy soon became one of the highlights of her day.

He didn't seem to have any kind of gainful employment, so Remy spent the entire time they were visiting doing whatever he or Rogue felt like. He explained a little about the situation, but shook his head ruefully when Rogue brought up the negotiations. Remy thought it was 'too soon' for a unification of the guilds to work.

"When Jean-Luc took me in, everyone thought I'd be the person to unify the Guilds," he told her late one afternoon as they strolled down a quiet avenue hand in hand. "I grew up with the daughter of the leader of the Guild of Assassins, Bella Donna. She was one of my closest friends, and we always knew our fathers planned for us to marry."

"What happened?" Rogue asked. There was no wedding ring on Remy's finger, and although he hadn't made any moves on her, they often walked with arms around each other, or hands clasped. She knew enough about him now to know that he wouldn't be so casually affectionate to some other girl when he had a wife waiting for him.

"I loved her like a sister," Remy said. "I never intended to go through with the marriage, but her brother found out what our fathers had planned, and he challenged me to a duel."

Rogue frowned. "What, like with swords and throwing gloves to the ground? Isn't that a bit archaic?"

Remy smiled, but it was a sad expression and didn't last long. "He swore he would kill me before he'd let me marry his sister. I tried to explain to him, but he didn't listen. Wouldn't listen. He just kept attacking me, I wasn't safe anywhere."

"He was Julien," Rogue breathed as comprehension dawned, remembering the conversation Remy and Henri had had over the breakfast table that first morning.

"Yes," Remy agreed simply. "I killed him; he left me no choice. Bella has never forgiven me, and I was exiled from New Orleans by both the Thieves and the Assassins."

Rogue squeezed his hand, bumping her hip gently against his in a silent offer of comfort, should he need it. Remy smiled softly, sweetly at her, and squeezed her hand back.

"Stryker picked me up shortly after I was exiled," Remy continued his story. "I was one of the first kids he kidnapped, and he lost interest in me pretty quickly when more and more interesting skills started popping up for him to take and harvest. It's part of why I was able to escape, Stryker started to forget that I was raised athief, that I can break out of places as well as into them." He paused, pulling them to a standstill and turning so that he was facing her completely.

"I would have saved more of them, if I could," he told Rogue, desperate for her to understand. "I would have crept into every cage and let all of them free, and ended their captivity. But I was so afraid, and so cold." Remy raised a hand between them, letting his fingers glow with the power of his mutant ability. "I've never been cold," Remy explained. "Even before I knew how to properly control my powers, I always became too warm. I've never been cold."

"But Stryker had some kind of prohibiter that he strapped onto the kids who were harder to contain. It took away my mutant abilities, left me without my power running under my skin, and it felt to me as though all the warmth had left the world. It terrified me. But he forgot that it wasn't my mutant power that made me a thief - that was all me. So one day I managed to unlock my cell, and creep past the guards and off the Island. I found Destiny, who knew how to take the prohibiter off. And I didn't - couldn't even think about going back.

"I did, eventually. After my family welcomed me back to New Orleans, and Logan came in search of me. I flew him to the Island, helped him free the other kids. I made sure everyone got away safely," Remy paused and closed his eyes, shuddering suddenly. "I didn't meant to leave them behind the first time," he promised her.

Rogue reached up, cupping his cheek in one of her gloved hands without thinking about it. "I believe you," she said. "You should be proud you went back at all. I don't think many people would have been able to do that."

Remy tilted his head into her hand, opening his eyes again and smiling at her. "You are too enchanting, Chére. Remy keeps telling himself he shouldn't fall for you, but it's difficult not to."

Rogue blushed at his confession and licked her lips instinctively. His eyes dropped to follow her tongue's movement before darting back up to meet her gaze again. Remy leaned forward slightly, an invitation and a signal of what he wanted to do. But Rogue shook her head, dropped her hand from his cheek and turned away. "Don't," she whispered.

He dropped the hand he'd been holding, and wrapped that arm around her waist instead, pulling her in for a hug and being careful not to touch her skin. "Sorry," he apologised. "I know I shouldn't."

Rogue laughed a little wetly and tried to pretend that she wasn't crying. "I don't care about should or should nots," she told him fiercely. "I don't care if everyone thinks I'm too young for you, or if they're worried we're going to break each other's hearts! I like you, Remy, and I won't see you get hurt. And I hurt everything I touch!"

Remy didn't say anything, just held her close and rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. When her sobs had quietened, Rogue took a step back and rubbed hastily at her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Remy doesn't mind. I like you too, and I don't want to see you hurting either."

"What a sorry pair we make," Rogue chuckled ruefully as they linked hands again and carried on walking.

"I don't think so. We're beautiful, no? All the men should be jealous of Remy for holding hands with the prettiest girl in the city, and all the women should be jealous of Rogue for holding hands with the most charming man around!" he cried, waving his free hand extravagantly, and grinning as he got Rogue to laugh.

"You still think an awful lot of yourself, swamp rat," she teased, then sobered a little. "David was… David was my boyfriend, before I knew I was a mutant. I think, even if I didn't hurt people, I'd still be a bit phobic of touch after what happened."

"Not entirely phobic," Remy said, raising her hand that he held in his, and kissing her knuckles through her gloves. "You don't have to tell me," he added.

Rogue shook her head. "You told me about Bella Donna." Then she took a deep breath and explained how David had ended up in a coma for three weeks. How all they'd been doing was kissing and groping; teenagers fumbling around in her room without any idea what they were doing. Rogue told Remy about how David had gone stiff and cold in her arms, how he'd started gasping for air and his skin had gone terrifyingly pale, his veins protruding in a sickening way. She told him about how David was in the back of her head now, and that he wouldn't ever go away.

"He recovered?" Remy asked.

Rogue nodded tightly. "I phoned him a month or so after I left. He was fine, back to normal. He didn't want to ever see me again, although he hoped that I was alright."

Remy considered her story for a while, swinging their hands between them and not looking at all inclined to let go any time soon. After a while, he spoke. "I've heard some pretty weird 'first time' stories," he told her. "But yours has to be one of the worst."

Rogue tipped her head back and laughed, thinking that it was two years ago, and this was Remy, who she trusted, and it was alright to laugh about it now. That wasn't something she'd ever thought before. That night had always been a dark shadow in her past, the beginning of a land slide down into eighteen months worth of lonely misery. But now Rogue had Kayla and Logan, and Remy too.

"I don't think I would count it as a first time," she confessed. "We only managed to get my t-shirt and his shirt off before my powers kicked in."

"The first time Remy was with a girl, he came in his pants before we even got that far," Remy told her quietly, blushing tomato red. "She was not impressed," he added with a rueful shake of his head.

Rogue giggled a little, and leaned against his shoulder briefly. "How old are you?" she asked as they turned off the avenue they'd been wandering down and into a smaller street lined with cafes.

"Remy doesn't know, exactly. Somewhere between 25 and 30, probably. Remy doesn't keep track."

"Well when's your birthday, then?" Rogue prodded, thinking that even at thirty, the age difference between them wasn't that bad.

Remy shrugged, and pulled her into an ice cream parlour. "Why all the questions, Chére? Does it matter?"

"Well," Rogue said, between choosing flavours, "if I wanted to get you a present for your birthday, I'd have to know when it was, wouldn't I?"

Remy tilted his head, as though the prospect of gift giving was foreign to him. "Remy doesn't need presents," he told her.

Rogue hummed and licked a drip of ice cream that threatened to escape. "Sometimes the best bit is giving a gift, rather than receiving one," she told him. "Maybe I want to give you something to make me feel better, rather than you."

"Then why do you need the excuse of my birthday?" he reasoned. "If you want to give me something, why don't you just do it when you feel like it, rather than waiting for a specific time?" He paid for their ice creams and they wandered back onto the street, heading towards one of the parks.

"Maybe I want to celebrate the day you came into the world," Rogue said. "I kind of like the fact that you exist."

Remy shook his head. "Remy doesn't know how many years old he is, you think I know what month I was born? Never mind the day. I celebrate being born by living. And by eating ice cream with pretty girls on summer days," he added.

Rogue nodded in mock seriousness at that, sitting down on a bench and pulling Remy to sit down next to her. "Can I pick a day?" she asked. "If I want to spend a whole day once a year thinking about you and being glad you exist, can I chose a day? It doesn't have to be your birthday. More of a celebration that Remy exists day."

Remy laughed at her persistence. "If you really want, I won't argue with you having a day dedicated to me. But you will have to let me chose a day for you too."

"Ok," Rogue said, licking her ice cream and watching the park, ignoring Remy beside her.

"Well?" he asked after a long few minutes of silence, practically vibrating with curiosity. "What day did you pick?"

"Not telling," Rogue said with a cheeky grin. "It's my day for you. You don't need to know when it is."

"Then I won't tell you what day I picked for you," Remy replied, pouting a bit and making Rogue laugh.

"You haven't picked a day," she said knowingly. "You were going to pick the same day that I picked for you so that you could try and redirect all the attention back at me."

He gaped. "How did you - no! That wasn't what I was going to do," he protested.

"You're getting ice cream on your hand," Rogue told him, nodding at where the sticky brown treat was dribbling all over his fingers.

Remy scowled at her as he mopped up the mess he was making. "You are a ridiculous person," he told her sincerely. "You are beautiful, and funny, and ridiculous."

"Well that's alright," Rogue said with a grin. "Since you're handsome, and charming, and ridiculous." She stood up, finishing her ice cream and heading towards the bin to get rid of the cone. Remy stood too, following her and cursing at his ice cream as he did so. Rogue laughed again and took his hand - the one that wasn't covered in ice cream.

Remy threw the remains of his icy treat in the bin too and looked petulant as he licked the last of the ice cream from his fingers. "I'm not normally that uncivilised," he said.

"I know," Rogue told him, but giggled again anyway.

Remy met her gaze, then pulled her to a sudden stop, stepping up close and into her personal space. Rogue was a little surprised by the suddenness and apparent randomness of this, but she had become used to Remy tugging her suddenly round sharp corners or into a dance, so she didn't startle or pull away.

Without thinking, he poured a spark of energy into his forefinger, then swiped it across Rogue's cheek. "You had some ice cream," he told her.

Rogue stood frozen, entirely unable to move. "Remy?" she croaked.

"Chére? Are you alright?" he asked, suddenly concerned for her.

"Me?" she blurted incredulously. "Me? I'm fine! What about you?" she grasped at the hand that had touched her cheek, cradling it in two of her own and staring at it. Rogue looked up at Remy, searching his face desperately for - what? If she was going to hurt him, it would have happened by now. "How are you not hurt?" she asked him.

"Rogue, Chére, what do you mean?" he asked, looking adorably confused for a long moment before he got it too. Remy stared at his hand as well, then a wicked grin stole across his face, and he laughed. "My powers!" he exclaimed quietly. Then he wrapped her in his arms, picked her up, and span in an excited circle. "My powers," he repeated. "They let me touch you."

Rogue laughed at his excitement, at being spun around so suddenly, but she was still worried. "Maybe," she warned. "Maybe they do." Rogue didn't want to get her hopes up. She really didn't want to think that this might be an answer, or part of an answer, only to learn later that it had been a fluke. When her feet were back on the ground, she dropped her arms from where they'd automatically gone to around his neck, and clung to his elbows. She needed some contact, to know he was real, and there, but she needed some space, too.

Remy raised the same hand again, lighting up his forefinger with just a spark of energy. "May I?" he asked her.

Rogue hesitated only very briefly. It was foolish, testing this here, in the middle of a park, in the middle of the day. But she had to know, so the nodded. "If you feel anything, or if I tell you to stop," she started to say as he moved his hand closer.

"I'll stop," he promised. Then he closed the distance and brushed his finger, feather light, from her cheek to her chin, along her jaw. It was like he was tracing a line of fire, but it didn't hurt, and it didn't feel anything like when Rogue had touched someone before. The pins and needles in her skin, that she'd learned existed in connection to her power, twisted anxiously inside her, but didn't rise to the surface, didn't flash up to Remy's touch to try and steal his mind and his powers.

He laughed softly, disbelievingly, and brushed his finger from her hairline, down the centre of her forehead, over the bridge of her nose and down, down, tugging her lower lip a little, over her chin, down her neck to the hollow of her throat. Remy lit his thumb, and traced it across the seam of her lips. He was infinitely careful as he traced her face with his fingertips; along her brows, around the curl of her ear, under her eyes, around her mouth. Then, finally, slowly, as it started to become too much for both of them, he put a spark of energy to his lips and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

They pulled apart, watching each other incredulously, and clasping their hands between them. Then Rogue stepped forwards, initiating a hug between them for the first time, and pressing a kiss to Remy's collar, careful not to touch any of his skin not currently protected by his power.

"Thank you," she told him, clutching him tightly. "Thank you," she repeated, and tried not to cry again.

-xXx-

Kayla was delighted by Rogue's discovery that Remy could touch her, so long as his powers protected him. Logan was not so happy at the development, and spent the next few days glaring at Remy whenever they were in the same room, and refusing to let the two of them spend any time alone together. Rogue had put up with this for only so long before she'd told Logan to get over himself.

"I'm not stupid!" she'd shouted at him. "I know that as soon as either of us stop thinking about it, he's going to wind up hurt. All he's done is stroke my cheek! He hasn't even held my freaking hand without my gloves on, because I hurt everything, and I know I'll just wind up hurting him sooner or later too!" And then Rogue had slammed out of lounge and hidden herself in the bedroom she'd occupied for her stay.

An hour or two following her outburst, Logan had knocked on her doorframe to announce his presence and she'd waved him in, feeling tired and wrung out. Rogue had been curled up on the window seat sketching dark, angry shapes that didn't really look like anything. She flipped her sketchpad shut as he entered and threw it to the bed, swinging her legs to the floor and looking at Logan expectantly.

He looked awkward, something that was strange on a man like him, and sat on the corner of her bed that was closest to her seat. "I don't want to see you hurt," he told her sincerely. "Whether it's because of your mutation, or because some fool of a boy breaks your heart. You're… you're my kid now. If I could, I'd hide you away from the world."

"You can't," Rogue told him flatly.

"I know that," Logan growled. "You're your own person, had been for long before we met you. Doesn't stop me from wanting to protect you from the rest of the world."

Rogue considered making a remark about the difference between hiding her away, and trying to protect her, but bit her tongue and swallowed it. Logan wasn't a great talker, he'd probably communicate entirely in a series of grunts, if he could, but he was worse when it came to expressing feelings.

"When you left earlier, I realised that maybe I was the one who was hurting you," Logan told her regretfully.

Rogue let out a long breath, leaning her head back against the glass behind her and staring at the ceiling. "Do you have any idea how happy it makes me feel, to see you and Kayla so happy together?" Rogue asked. "Because I've known - or thought I've known - ever since David and that stupid kiss years ago, that I was going to be alone. Because no one's going to love a girl who can't be touched. Not long term, anyway. So when we came here and Remy seemed genuinely interested in me, I loved it, enjoyed it while it lasted. Now there's a chance that I might not have to stop liking him…" Rogue trailed off, turning to stare out of the window.

"Promise me you don't like him just because he can touch you," Logan said forcefully, leaning towards her. "Promise me."

Rogue forced herself to look at Logan, not realising that she'd been avoiding his gaze until she tried to meet it. She shrugged awkwardly. "I trust him," she said simply. Then she turned away again. "Besides, we're going home in a couple of days."

There was a long moment of quiet that stretched beyond a pause in the conversation and into the pair of them just sitting together in silence. Eventually Logan stood to go back downstairs. "We can buy you a cell phone," he offered just before he left. "So you can stay in contact with your friends."

When Rogue looked over, Logan had vanished and she was alone in her room again. She allowed herself a warm smile, moving to the bed and hugging one of the pillows happily. She didn't know how she'd managed it, but Rogue had found herself the perfect parents for her. Logan's gruff, distant protectiveness was a better reminder that he cared for her than any proclamations would have ever been. And Kayla was the balm to Logan's rough edges.

With what amounted to reluctant permission from Logan, Rogue and Remy escaped that night into the city and the dance clubs he'd been introducing her to. Knowing she was only there for a few more days, that Remy had survived touching her without a hint of him left behind in her mind, Rogue was freer with herself, more relaxed and faster to enjoy herself. They didn't touch again after that first day, it took Remy more effort than he'd let on to keep his power so regulated that he could protect himself and not hurt her. But he'd taken to kissing her on her gloved hand, or through the material of her shoulder, of on the top of her head where her hair protected him.

Rogue was less free with her affection, but she kissed his shoulder through his jacket, or ran gloved fingers through his hair. That night, in the restless movement of dance and the anonymity of the crowd, she put her hand over his mouth, and kissed the back of it. She laughed at his sudden, surprised stillness, and laughed again at his obvious pleasure and the way he tugged her, spinning, back into the dance.

"You constantly surprise and delight me," he whispered in her ear at the next opportunity. "Maybe Merci was right. I should have stayed away from you. Remy thinks you're going to break his heart."

"I'm only here for a month," Rogue reminded him. "I was only ever here for a month. But-" she cut herself off with a sharp, anxious breath, and closed her eyes. She lowered her voice to a hot murmur against his neck. "If I'm breaking your heart, you must know you're breaking mine too."

Remy nodded tightly, holding her tight against his side for half a second, before loosening her grip and spinning her in the dance again. They didn't speak again, just danced into the early hours of the morning and stumbled their way back to bed without a word. The following day they pretended as though the conversation hadn't happened.

Kayla, ever sensitive to the emotions of those around her, pulled Rogue to one side the next day. "When I said not to expect anything more than could fit into four weeks, that didn't mean you wouldn't," she told her. "It's not a deadline, or a death sentence. You are allowed to care for him after we move back home."

"I know," Rogue said. "But it has only been a month, and I'm only eighteen, and it's a very long distance."

Kayla shook her head dismissively at each of those problems. "People have built more from less. You've spent all day everyday for four weeks with Remy, which is more than a couple dating regularly for the better part of a year might do. Eighteen is relatively young, but you've been an adult in your mentality for a while now. And in light of the modern age and technologies, what's a thousand miles or so? If you want a relationship with Remy, you'll both have to work hard for it, but it's not impossible."

Rogue thought about that. Thought about Kayla and Logan's relationship. She'd told Logan that seeing the pair of them together made her happy, but she'd never stopped to consider the difficulties they'd have faced as a couple. She knew them now, after twelve years of knowing each other, when they knew each other as much as any person can know another. Rogue wondered guiltily what it must have been like when Logan had lost his memories, and Kayla was left with a man who was the same that she knew and loved, but who didn't remember her at all.

She nodded decisively. "Can we come back here next year?" she asked Kayla. Rogue and Remy weren't technically in a relationship, as such. She didn't think. Neither of them had made any promises to the other, or even to themselves, so far as she knew, but if she knew that she and Kayla and Logan were returning to New Orleans it gave her something to look forward to.

Kayla smiled, as though she knew what Rogue was thinking. "I don't know, but we can see. It would be nice if we did have somewhere we could come on holiday to. It's a lovely city." She paused and looked thoughtfully at Rogue for a long while. "Have you considered the thought that maybe Remy's the one who can touch you, because you want him to be?"

"What do you mean?" Rogue asked.

Kayla bit her lip uncertainly. "I was just thinking that of all the people in the world who might be able to touch you, wasn't it strange that the one who can just happens to be the young man you're sweet on?"

Rogue frowned, not entirely sure what it was Kayla was trying to get at.

Kayla continued, "You said that you might be able to control the powers of the people you've touched. I just wondered if maybe you had some control over your own powers too. It's just a theory, but I thought maybe if you wanted to be able touch someone enough without hurting them, maybe you could."

"I don't think that's it," Rogue said, shaking her head in denial. "It might… might not just be Remy's power, I guess. But the first time he touched me, it wasn't because I really wanted him to. I had ice cream on my cheek that he just swiped off. I didn't even know it was there."

Kayla sighed sadly. "I don't know then," she confessed quietly. "I'd hoped that if it wasn't just Remy, if we knew why he could touch you without getting hurt, maybe we could help you."

Rogue offered a one shouldered shrug. "It's alright," she said, even though it wasn't. "I've had plenty of time to get used to the knowledge that I may never touch anyone else ever again. I'm trying very hard not to get my hopes up too much."

Kayla, Logan, and Rogue stayed in the LeBeau household for a further two days before they left to travel back to Canada, and they did so with mixed feelings. Logan had indeed bought Rogue the phone that he'd offered to get her, and Remy's had been the first number that had been put into it. But having his number in her phone didn't make Rogue feel any less disappointed at having to say good bye to him so soon after having met him.

On the positive side of things, there had been no attack on their home in Canada, and none of Logan or Remy's contacts had heard anything about Stryker or Creed, so it looked as though Professor Xavier's visit hadn't drawn any unwelcome attention. Perhaps his 'Blackbird' was more invisible to satellite detection than it was to Logan's sight. Rogue had also heard back from the local high school about her application to study there. They were a little worried about her age, but otherwise were happy to welcome her to their number.

"See?" Remy challenged. "You'll soon have plenty of other things to think about, plenty of other people to get to know."

"What about you? You sound as though you're going to be pretty busy soon too," Rogue shot back.

Although Rogue didn't know much about the specifics of the two Guilds, and their attempt at unification, it had been impossible not to notice the rising tension during the last week of their stay. As Remy had suspected, it was too soon after the marriage that wasn't and Julien's consequent death, and the Guilds were preparing to fight one another again, rather than settle under a joint leadership. The end of the negotiations meant various things for Remy, most important of which were that the ban on taking jobs would be raised and he would return to his career of a thief, and that he would have to be much more careful about when and where he travelled in the city.

It was probably a good thing that the Vadases were leaving when they were, especially considering that on top of the brewing Guild war, Logan had started to become agitated about being cooped up in a city for so long. No promises had been made on either side about visiting the following year, but the offer had been made. Rogue got the feeling that whether they returned or not depended heavily on what happened between her and Remy in the months between.

"I'll miss you," she murmured to Remy the night before they left, the pair of them leaning against the railing on the balcony where they'd talked that first night. He had an arm loosely around her waist and they were both staring out at the swamp.

"Remy, he'll - I'll miss you too," he whispered back.

Rogue turned and smiled at him, cupping his cheek. "You don't have to change who you are for me," she told him. She'd grown used to, and almost fond of, his strange speech patterns over the month she'd known him.

"Then say you won't change either," he asked of her.

She didn't say anything to that. No promises, that was the only thing they'd really agreed on, although they hadn't said that out loud either. They stayed out in the dark not saying anything, until it got too cold and they had to start thinking about heading back inside. Before they went in, he raised her hand to her lips and kissed the back of her fingers sweetly.

"For the road," he told her.

Rogue wanted, so badly, to be able to promise that they'd be back next year, that they could go back to being whatever they were now. But it wouldn't be fair to either of them, Remy especially, is they made any promises now.

So she told him that they would stay in contact, and when she left with Kayla and Logan the following morning she didn't look back.