AN: Just a small note for this chapter, guys. At this point I have to point out that the story might be seeming to move a little fast but let me stress, we still haven't even scratched the surface of the main plot point/twist that will be taking up the majority of this fic. So while it may seem to be a lot to take in in these first few chapters, it's still only setting up a base for the meat and potatoes of the story.

As always, your reviews are super inspiring! The faster y'all review, the faster I post the chapters. I finished this chapter the same day I posted the last one, but I tend to wait so that I can get reviews on individual chapters to get a better understanding of what my readers do or don't like, or suggestions of what they'd like to see.

Enjoy!


Blue eyes and Boston accent.

For days after meeting Bobby that's all she could think about, his blue eyes and Boston accent. His blue eyes looking at her, his Bostonian tongue speaking sweetly to her. Bobby had made her feel like a normal girl before she had even had time to think of herself as one. She was still reeling from the manifestation of her powers when she'd met Logan and ultimately ended up here.

Logan.

John.

Bobby.

Logan made her feel safe and protected; like someone had her back. John had talked to her a little, flirting with her before he knew of her powers. But Bobby, with those blue eyes and Boston accent, he'd made her feel like she belonged at the mansion. He made her feel comfortable in her own skin at a time when she was afraid of it herself.

Bobby wasn't like John or Logan.

She couldn't believe it when he asked her out fully knowing she couldn't control her powers. She had protested, saying that it wouldn't be fair to him. She'd told him she was scared of hurting him.

He told her the risk was worth it.

Never in a million years would it have ever occurred to Rogue that Bobby's out right acceptance and affection for her would cause her own self conscience to send the message to her brain saying 'Hey! This guy will accept me with my mutation, what's the point of controlling it?!' but after Emma's words about her security blanket

it made sense.


"This... isn't what I wanted." Bobby furrows his brow and looks at her with disappointment.

Her breath catches for a moment as she takes in his words and expression. "No, it's what I wanted." She takes his hand, skin to skin. He has to understand how badly she wanted this. How badly she wanted to be

normal.

And not just Marie, the untouchable Rogue whose boyfriend treats her normal. She wanted to be normal. She wanted to experience life the way everyone else was able to.

She wanted to love him properly with her heart, soul, and body.

Her ribcage feels like a prison to the rapid beating of her heart as she watches him lean closer, and she's not sure if it's because she's so excited or because she's absolutely frightened. But when his lips meet hers

Oh,

Oh, it's worth it.


"Ok, a four hour danger room session with Logan or a four minute make out session with Toad?"

"Eww! Haha, I'm totally going for the danger room session. I'd rather be sore all week then trying to get rid of any slime residue for a week." Kitty laughed, shaking her head as if it would get rid of the mental image.

For the past thirty minutes she and Bobby had entertained themselves during the car ride by playing This or That. It definitely made time fly.

"Ok, ok wait this is a good one," She looked sideways at him with a devious grin, "being locked in a room with John for an hour, or being locked in a room with Jubilee on a sugar high for an hour."

"Is anyone else in said room with us?"

She shakes her head no, an amused smile gracing her lips.

"John."

"Really?" This surprises her.

Bobby nods, glancing at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the road, "Yeah. I mean… John and I used to be good friends, best friends, before he jumped ship." He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish things would go back to how they used to be sometimes."

Kitty nods and she can't help but appreciate the fact that Bobby felt comfortable enough to open up to her about this. John was a subject he didn't really talk about, and Bobby and she weren't that close of friends when John was still at the mansion.

"Boxers or briefs?" She joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She couldn't stop the smile that played at her lips when Bobby laughed.


Remy was working up a sweat in the mansions gym. He jabbed, hooked, and pounded his fists into the punching bag with quick, deliberate movements. Aside from his one danger room experience with Emma, he'd really been slacking on his workouts. Right now, he really needed to work off some steam.

After grabbing a cup of coffee this morning he'd gone to the mansion library to check his email. He found a bunch of spam, some e-bills, two emails from Henri, and one from an email address he didn't recognize. It had read:

To: lebeauRE12

From: bh2240

Subject: No Subject

Remember what I said. I'm becoming very impatient.

M. Hardok

He thought he was going to blow the keyboard up he was so infuriated. Pushing aside that he had no idea how she got his personal email, her outright refusal to accept his answer grated on his last nerve.

When it comes to accepting or rejecting a job, his word is final.

"Somebody's relieving some stress." An amused female voice said from somewhere behind him. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk as he stopped the swaying of the bag, turning to look at the voice's owner.

"Oui," he grabbed his towel from the ground to wipe his brow of the sweat he'd worked up, "mais I can t'ink of better ways t' do it." He winked at her.

"Well, by all means, don't let me stop you." Amara purred, letting a delighted moan escape her mouth when he picked her up and melded his lips with hers as he carried her to the locker room.


"Yah knew the whole time. Yah knew it was Bobby all along."

Emma watches Rogue from across the desk. She watches the way her shoulders sink, her frame closing in on itself as she keeps her eyes to the floor as if her head was too heavy to hold up anymore. It's the sight of a girl who is internally battling every emotion she has, always worrying about which ones are right, which ones are ok to feel.

"It crossed my mind as a possibility." She answered honestly. "I didn't want it to be, but it was a very plausible answer."

Rogue's eyes close in what Emma can only assume is an attempt to hold her together.

Such a troubled girl…

"Rogue?"

The girl opens her eyes and finally lifts her head to meet Emma's crystal stare.

"Hm?"

"How does that make you feel?" She hates to be reduced to a cliché of therapists who look for their clients to answer their own questions, but she finds the question is appropriate.

"Ah… don't know. Guilty?"

"I didn't ask how you felt you are supposed to feel, I asked how you do feel."

Rogue falls into a silence once again and her eyes sink back to the floor. It's a long time before she looks back with a hopeless expression painted across her features.

"I didn't ask how you felt you are supposed to feel, I asked how you do feel."

Emma's words tear at her insides a little bit. The telepath has a way of verbalizing what Rogue's feeling on the inside and making it very evident that she needs to express these feelings on the outside. She equates her relationship with Emma to be having a human form of your own wakeup call. She looks back at the floor as she tries to decide how it is she really feels.

She feels

she feels selfish.

Not because her relationship with Bobby is very likely coming to an end; not because she's scared it might hurt him.

Because she knew

she knew since the moment he kissed her on the couch that day, in a comforting gesture to show her he was there for her.


"This isn't what I wanted." He furrows his brows as guilt rushes through him. It's too much, she gave up too much. She gave up too much for him.

He doesn't deserve it.

He wants to deserve it.

"No, it's what ah wanted." He looks down as her pale hand takes hold of his, skin to skin. It's as soft as he had expected and it's not lost on him that she's so nervous she's shaking. It only makes him feel worse because she doesn't know

she doesn't know

she doesn't know that what he wanted to say was: "This isn't what I wanted, because I want someone else."

But he won't say it. He could never say it. Not now, not after how much she gave up for him. He wasn't sure when the lines blurred. He wasn't sure when his love for her turned into like for her, and now he wonders if it were ever really love at all or if they had just been young and naïve.

Before the words he had wanted to say slip past his lips, he busies them with hers.


"Ah feel like it's time Bobby and ah were finally honest with ourselves."

"Rogue?"

She tilts her head in question, waiting for Emma to continue.

"I think you're absolutely right."


"Do you want to go out and grab dinner later?" Amara asks him as she pulled her wet tendrils into a bun after their rather steamy shower. Her lips are swollen from his kisses, and her face is still flushed from the hot water.

He tenses slightly as he pulls his pants back on, tying the drawstring of his workout sweat pants. This is something he was afraid of. "I don't t'ink we should, chere."

It's all fun and games until somebody gets attached.

He watches her eyebrows draw in, her blue eyes flooding with confusion (and maybe anger?) at his reply. "Why not?" He can tell by her tone that she's finally put two and two together, but she wants him to verify it anyways.

"Remy just t'inks dat if we start goin' out t' dinners, or movies, or t'ings like dat it just leaves more room for lines t' blur and messes t' be made."

Her sapphire eyes flash with anger, and again he thinks this is what he didn't want to put up with as she opens her mouth for the next part of the ordeal, "Oh, okay. I'm sorry. I just assumed that since we were sleeping together maybe you'd have the decency to actually pursue a relationship."

He reaches out, rubbing a rough thumb along her jaw line. "Chere," he tries to calm her, "we were never gon' be serious, we were jus' havin' a little fun. Remy t'ought y' knew dat."

The sting of her slap was expected, soon followed by the slam of the door as she left.


Rogue stumbled slightly when Amara barged out of the locker room right in front of her, stomping her way down the hall in an angry frenzy. She only had a moment to contemplate the blonde's mood when Remy stepped out of the locker room, his hair still dripping from his shower.

This time she wasn't the least bit embarrassed to walk upon the two lovers doing their walk(s) of shame, but she raised an amused eyebrow at his surprise to seeing her there.

"Lovers' quarrel?" She teased him with a slight smirk.

Glad that she wasn't going to get upset like last time, he returned the smirk with a "Haha, y're so funny petite." He followed her in the opposite direction of Amara as she continued on her way.

"Well yah certainly did somethin' tah piss her off. She nearly mauled me over."

He gave a nonchalant shrug, raking a hand through his wet locks. "Jus' a misunderstandin'. No big deal."

She glanced over at him in disbelief. "What kinda 'misunderstanding'?"

He licked his lip, buying time as he thought about whether he wanted to go down this path with her. In the end, he'd decided if she wanted to be his friend then he would talk to her like he would any other friend. "Seems me an' Amara got a dif'rent definition o' 'casual'."

She stopped walking to look at him, slightly confused. "Okay, and what were y'alls differences in definition?"

"A casual fling t' me is exactly dat, friends wit' benefits. Apparently fo' Amara dat means we sleep t'gether, den I'm meant t' want t' date her."

"Wait, so yah're tellin' me yah will sleep with her, but yah won't date her?" Her voice was full of disbelief.

"She knew dat we were jus' messin' around chere, it ain't m' fault if she ended up wantin' mo' den dat." He defended himself, suddenly itching for a nicotine rush.

"Dontcha think yah shoulda told her that before y'all did the dirty?"

He grinned at her phrasing and tried not to laugh when she glared at him for his amusement. "Chere, how's it any dif'rent me not tellin' her dat I don't want a relationship wit' her before we sleep t'gether and her not tellin' me dat she do want one before we sleep t'gether?"

She had to admit, he had a point. He had never told Amara that he wanted to date her, and she had never told him that she was ok with it being a fling, so they were both equally guilty of deceiving the other. It didn't stop her feeling bad for Amara, though.

"What're y' doin' right now?" He asked her after they started walking again.

"Ah just finished mah session with Emma. Figure ah'll just watch some TV until Bobby and Kitty bring Piotr home." She answered with a shrug.

"When dey gon' be back?"

"Probably around five, why?"

He checked his watch, it was only ten minutes until four. "Y' wanna grab a late lunch?"

She thought it over. Her first instinct told her that it wasn't a good idea, but at the same time she liked having Remy as a friend and she didn't want to push him away by constantly refusing to hang out with him without other people around.

Well, aside from the roof top chats.

"Okay, sure."

"Alright, I'm gon' go change. Meet y' downstairs in ten." He told her, turning and heading to his room.


"PETEEEE!" Kitty let out a shrill giggle, launching herself into her Russian friend's arms. "We totally missed you at the mansion! Did you like, have a good time back home?"

Piotr smiled, hugging Kitty back before releasing her to nod at Bobby in greeting. "I very much enjoyed being home, Katya." He replied as the trio made their way to baggage claim.

"The mansion just wasn't the same without you, man." Bobby said, grabbing one of Piotr's duffle bags as it passed on the conveyer belt. "You missed a lot of action, too." He added.

Piotr nodded, "Katya told me about the fundraiser on the skype."

Kitty giggled at Piotr's broken English as the boys grabbed the last of his bags. "You'll have to tell us like, all about it on the ride home." She said as they put his luggage on a rolling cart. Climbing atop a sturdy bag, she pointed forward. "Onwards we go!"

Bobby and Piotr shook their heads in amusement, and pushed the cart towards parking.


"Can ah ask yah a question?" Rogue inquired after they ordered their food at a quaint little diner ten minutes from the mansion.

Remy was curious as to what she could possibly have to ask him and never the less leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Shoot."

"Where'd yah pick up yah hacking skills?" It was something that she and Kitty had both been wondering last night. She knew Kitty was very skilled when it came to computers, and if Remy was able to get past her firewalls that would make him exceptionally skilled in that field also.

Well, that certainly wasn't what he had expected to come out of her mouth. Then again, he shouldn't be so surprised. He knew Kitty was her friend and roommate, and a chatty one at that.

"Truthfully?" He took a sip of his coffee, "'m not sure y' gon' like de answer."

She didn't reply, but waited for him to continue.

He sighed, knowing she wouldn't drop it. "Remy grew up in New Orleans, like he told y' when we first met." He enjoyed the way her cheeks flushed at the memory, "Never knew m' real parents none. Dey abandoned me when I was too little t' remember. Grew up on de streets tryin' t' just get by; did a lot of stealin' t' stop from goin' hungry."

When he glanced at her to see how she was taking it her face didn't reveal much, so he continued. "One day I ended up pickin' de wrong pocket and got caught. Didn't know dat it was de pocket of de head o' de thieves guild. Anyways, long story short, Jean Luc was interested in me cause m' eyes so he took me in hopin' dat'd turn into somet'ing down de road."

Another sip, a glance in her direction.

"It did, obviously. He raised me as one o' his owns, taught me de way o' de guild. Remy was a thief Rogue. Stole money, jewels, even t'ings on computers from files t' bank information. Dat'd be where Remy picked up dat particular skill." He finished.

She took a moment to let his story sink in, taking a sip of her water. "Is that why yah left? Yah didn't want to steal anymore?"

He gave what she could only assume as a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "Non chere, dat's not it. But dat's a story for anot'er time."

She didn't like that he'd had a shady past, but at the same time she had no right to judge him. After a moment though, her eyes widened as she realized something. "Is that why yah knew about the art gallery at Warren's?!" Her stomach tightened, hoping she hadn't been an accessory to grand theft.

"Are you askin' if I stole de gem?"

"Do ah want tah know the answer?" She asked hesitantly.

"Remy don't have de gem, chere." Technically, it was the truth he'd told himself. He didn't have the gem and if telling her that was a way of avoiding the truth while not necessarily lying, it was a route he was willing to take.

That seemed to put her at ease and when she smiled at him as their food arrived, he returned the gesture.


Bobby's car was in the garage by the time they'd gotten back from their late lunch. She froze beside the vehicle, looking at it as if it would hold the answers for her.

It didn't.

"Chere?"

She looked up to meet Remy's concerned gaze from where he waited at the door for her. "Y' okay?" When she didn't respond and instead turned her gaze back to the car, he closed the door and walked back to her side.

"Rogue, what's wrong?" He tried again, looking at the car as if would hold the answer for him.

It didn't.

"He's not an imbecile, yah know?"

Her words had surprised him because they had come out of nowhere. Of course he knew what she was referring to. The 'he' she was referring to was Bobby and he had deemed Bobby an imbecile on their first meeting, a fact that Rogue had adamantly protested. It was just odd for her to bring it up so unexpectedly.

"You would know better den me, chere." He grabbed her gloved hand, trying to gently direct her towards the door and away from the car that seemed to be upsetting her. She didn't budge.

"Ah'm not just bein' the defensive girlfriend, he really isn't. Bobby's a good guy, Remy. He's a really, really good guy." Her voice broke a little as the verbal diarrhea spilled out. "He's always been a good guy, and ah took advantage of that."

By this point, her emotions overtook her and she started to shake with sobs. Remy was at an absolute loss, not knowing how to react. He did the only thing he could think to

he hugged her.

He hugged her, and he let her cling to him as the sobs shook throughout her body. He wasn't sure if her sudden outburst was a result of the guilt she held from what had happened between him and her or if it were something else entirely. What he did know was that she needed a friend, and right now he was that friend.

"Shh, shh petite." He whispered soothingly into her ear. "Y' can let it out."

Her arms wound around his waist as she cried into his chest where one of his hands cradled the back of her head while the other rubbed her back calmly. "He's such a good guy…" she whimpered.

"I know petite."

It hurts somewhere deep in his chest. It's a similar feeling to the neediness he'd felt in the dining hall that day, a feeling he'd forcefully pushed aside so that he could be what she needed; a friend and not a lover. It's a dull ache that swells with each cry she lets out.

A cry she lets out for Bobby.

Who is a good guy.

Remy's not a good guy.

Nobody ever taught him how to be good.


She's not sure how long Remy held her in the garage as she cried tears she couldn't explain to him. It had to be somewhere between twenty to thirty minutes before she'd calmed down enough to let him go with an awkward ah'll talk to yah later as they parted ways.

So she's not entirely surprised when Kitty's face looks horrified when she spots Rogue first from inside the rec room. "Oh my gosh Rogue, are you okay?" She asked her in shock as she started to get up from her seated position.

Bobby turned to look over his shoulder and he too got up in a hurry, scared at the sight of Rogue's teary red eyes. "Rogue?"

"Ah'm okay, Kit'." She replied, nodding for the girl to sit back down. "Bobby, can we talk?"

Kitty sits back down next to Piotr, and the two of them look at Jubilee who looks equally as shocked and concerned about the current situation. The three of them obviously try to preoccupy themselves with anything but Rogue and Bobby at that moment.

"Yeah, of course." Bobby replies in that Boston accent of his, following her out of the rec room.


"Rogue, what is it? Why were you crying?" Bobby's baby blues fill with worry as he places both of his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to look at him.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

Good, sweet Bobby.

She lets go of the anger she'd felt over him and Kitty. She lets go of the bitterness she felt the day the cure wore off. She lets go of all of it, because how could she ever live with herself if she was upset with Bobby of all people?

"Ah," she bites her lip and she has to clench the material of her shirt over her heart because god it hurts. It hurts so badly, and she doesn't think she can make the hurt stop. She's not sure if this is the biggest mistake she'll ever make, but she knows one thing for certain

Bobby doesn't love her.

And while the thought in itself is enough to shatter her heart, it's not the only thing that has her so worked up.

She's not sure if she loves Bobby either.

As a matter of fact, she's almost one hundred percent sure she's only in love with the idea of loving Bobby; because Bobby's safe.

Bobby's a warm blanket on a cool night; he's ice cold water in a barren desert.

And it's this thought, this awful, terrible, selfish thought that has her crying now. She's crying because she's been so bad, so wrong to him. She's been bad to Bobby who is the epitome of good.

She's not a good person.

She wants to be a good person.

"Yah don't love me." She says, and it's only after his mouth drops open that she realizes he's scared that she's crying because she's mad at him so she hurries to continue. "Yah don't, Bobby. An' that's okay, that's completely okay."

"Rogue," his voice is pleading, "I do love you. I do, Rogue." His blue pools are desperate, trying to read her face.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

She shakes her head no, and her gloved hand comes to rest on his cheek. "Bobby, we fell outta love a long time ago. Ah'd suspect before ah got the cure, even." She notices something (guilt?) cross his features. "We just were so scared of hurtin' each othah, neither of us could come tah realize it."

"Rogue…" He tries again, although with less determination. He knows she's right, that they had lost their love a long time ago. It didn't mean he didn't care for her deeply. "I do love you. I'll always love you."

She gives him a watery laugh, a sad smile spreading across her face. "Ah know," she nods and she even believes it. "Ah'll always love yah too, Bobby. But we ain't in love anymore. It ain't fair for me tah hold ontah yah when ah know your heart isn't in it."

"I was the security blanket, wasn't I?" He's come to the realization himself, what with her telling him all of this so suddenly. He doesn't sound offended, but understanding.

She bites her lip, and nods. "Technically. But ah'll never see yah that way, Bobby. Ah could never see yah that way."

It's hard, falling out of love. When a relationship has simply run its course and come to an end that didn't end with happily ever after, or even worse, didn't end with fighting and bitterness, it's exceptionally hard.

Very little can compare to pain that the mutual understanding of feelings that have run their course and faded over time causes. It's a dull throb in their chests, a painful reminder that things just didn't work out.

"Ah didn't mean tah hurt yah."

He believes her.

"I didn't want to hurt you, either."

She believes him.

He runs his hand back through her hair, tangling at the nape of her neck. Closing her eyes, she leans in to give him possibly the most emotionally raw kiss they'd ever shared. She lasts two minutes before she pulls away, scared her powers are going to come into effect because of the emotions running through her.

"Friends?" She asks him hopefully.

A smile.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

"Always."