Hello all! Sorry for this wait being a little longer than it has been from chapter to chapter so far. Hopefully it helps that this chapter is almost double the length of any of the previous chapters (whoops).
Thank you again for all the interest and kindness! I really appreciate it.
Giant thanks (per usze) to thehazeofdusk, who is responsible for some of the witty banter from Remy and also encouraging me to just lean into the parts of the fic I was chickening out on haha she's actually the reason this chapter gained approximately 2k words in the end part of writing it.
Chapter 6
On a plane filled with people who were supposed to be bitter enemies, one might think coming up with a good plan would take forever, but right now there was no solidly good plan and at least everyone could agree on that. Remy had been surprised at how quickly the group came together on that point, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with the headache of everyone arguing the entire flight. The anxiety permeated the plane and on everyone's faces gave him a headache enough as it was.
Although they'd lost the Sentinels once the jet had gotten high enough, worry still clung in the air that the robots would eventually be able to find the group of mutants no matter where they touched down. Creating distance by retreating might be only putting off the inevitable, but it was the only call to make. Even Magneto was acting concerned about the Sentinels in his own way.
Remy hadn't really expected Magneto to accept Cue-Ball's idea that maybe splitting up into smaller groups in this retreat was a bad idea, but then again he'd been off on his expectations in a growing number of things that day. Still, the fact that Magneto had agreed with Xavier after very little debate that they should all retreat to the same place (and since the X mansion had more defenses, that's where they were headed) was a surprise for Remy and Piotr as well, if the look on the large man's face was any indicator. Remy had heard the two leaders talk before, always with an underlying layer of respect, but that didn't mean it was all expected and fine for the Acolytes to just...have a sleepover at the X mansion.
He and Pete, as it turned out, were not alone in their surprise. Although he was loathe to admit it, Cyclops had put up a decent debate with his Professor as he'd protested how terrible of an idea this was. No way in hell was Cyke going to get his way, but at least the whole debacle had given Remy something else (outside of his new deck cards, well broken in by this point) to pull his focus away from where it kept stubbornly gravitating to.
He suppressed the urge to exhale a huff through his nose and busied himself continuing to shuffle and cut his now very well worn-in deck of cards. General chatter had started throughout the plane which also helped him in his stubborn quest. Nightcrawler and the redhead were chatting away, occasionally drawing Mr. Pouty Pants into the conversation as well, although Cyke seemed to mostly be alternating between glaring around the plane and slapping a gigantic frown across his face. As general conversation swept through the plane, Piotr had, to Remy's astonishment, struck up conversation with Shadowcat, Rogue's roommate.
And there it was: the magnet his thoughts were fighting to drift to every time he let his guard down.
Rogue.
He knew she was sitting a few rows behind him, but looking back was not something he was about to let himself do. He'd been almost grateful when the rest of their teammates had gotten on the plane, preventing him from responding to Rogue anymore and giving him time to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do. And figure out a better response than the one he'd almost snapped back. With his boss and Mystique and Rogue's team suddenly there, he'd been forced to bite his tongue despite the varied emotions churning through his body. It was probably for the better he'd been cut off, but that didn't stop the swirl of negativity in his chest. Despite the frustration coursing through him, he knew better than to let on any frustration around Mystique. Frustration about her daughter would only make for a million times worse reaction from the shapeshifter and was not something Remy would willingly submit himself (or Rogue) to. He'd been careful since returning to keep every emotion carefully controlled around Mystique, especially when it came to hiding whatever connection he and Rogue had. Not like that was hard right now with the cold shoulder she seemed intent on giving him.
He hadn't necessarily expected a warm welcome from her. He'd known she wouldn't exactly want to be buddy-buddy with him, but he'd been hoping when she saw him again she wouldn't hate him. He'd known that it was a very distinct possibility, but he'd been hoping the odds would be in his favor and she might have been willing to give him a chance to explain. She'd always been oppositional and stubborn though (part of what drew him to her, he supposed) but being prepared for her to hate him wasn't the same thing as knowing it was a possibility, apparently. It was pretty obvious trust and forgiveness have never been strengths of Rogue's (or his own, to be fair) so he hadn't expected everything to be fine, or even close to fine, but when she'd told him that she didn't want him looking out for her, he couldn't ignore the sting that had burned through his chest like smoke.
A sting that had sunk so deep it had momentarily thrown him back to Blood Moon Bayou; cold, alone (save for his father), and covered in swam water. Watching as one of the very few people who'd ever come back for him (even after he'd betrayed her trust and proved himself to be just as bad as the countless list of people who'd deceived her in the past) flew away. His hand still warm from holding her gloved hand in his so briefly. It could have been his imagination, the warmth, but, whether it was or wasn't, he'd clung to it at the time for reasons he wasn't entirely comfortable examining even now. At the time he'd allowed himself to wonder if someday they could find their way back to that easy banter they'd shared before the shit hit the fan. He'd wondered if they actually could have formed some sort of real friendship or acceptance had he not been a giant screw up and been lying and telling half truths to her most of the time. The thought had been intriguing, but not new.
Rogue had made her mark on him on their short journey (kidnapping, the cold feeling in his chest had reminded him mockingly and immediately). They hadn't become friends exactly, but they'd come to an understanding by the time she'd left with the X men, he'd felt (he'd hoped). A sort of kindred spirit, he'd thought to himself as he'd swiped some swamp mud out of his hair. It had certainly been kind of nice to imagine that somewhere out there was a person who understood him (and didn't completely hate him because of it-he hoped), even if she only knew the tip of the iceberg.
Nicer still was the thought that even though he'd done exactly the same kind of betrayal both of them had spent their lives guarding against, she'd come back for him and saved his sorry ass. It was something he couldn't fathom doing if someone had betrayed him and, when he couldn't stop himself, he still wondered occasionally why she had done it. He could have made it out with his father somehow. He'd been in plenty of tighter spots. His gratitude to Rogue hadn't been for saving him. It had been for coming back. For somehow deciding it was worth it to help him out.
They'd found their footing so easily in New Orleans and he'd thought they might have been starting to again today; easily falling back into working together even after the length of time they'd been apart.
To be honest, although he knew he owed her still, he wasn't sure why he was trying so hard in the first place, especially when she was trying very hard to act like she didn't want him around. Already in the few times he'd actually gotten to interact with her, he'd put in more effort and consideration than he had for anyone else in his life, outside himself. But, despite her prickly nature, (and to his complete surprise) she had somehow become sort of worth it to him. Besides, if she was prickly on the outside, he didn't have to put in the same amount of effort hiding how prickly he was on the inside. It was perfect for both of them because it lessened the amount of hostility or deflection that was necessary for either to exude when talking to anyone else. Keeping everyone at arm's length was something both were comfortable with. Having someone with the same boundaries had been part of what made their weird connection and easy banter so appealing to him at least. Don't have to pretend or hide if both of you are intent on ignoring your past in the first place if both of you refuse to acknowledge it, he'd reasoned to himself.
Even with all their similarities, she had brought him out of his norm when it came to their interactions and how he viewed her on a whole. Offering to look out for someone else was not something he'd previously found himself wanting to do, let alone actually wanting to commit to doing. It was more than their parallel lives and the easy understanding they'd found for each other (or at least that he'd found for her after all those hours of watching her, first for Magento and then for himself). It was more than the idea in his brain that maybe if he'd had someone looking out for him, things could have gone differently for him. It was more than how interesting she could be when he stopped to actually watch. Whatever it was that drew him to Rogue was intangible. It slipped through his fingers like water the times he'd allowed himself to think about it. All he knew was, whether he wanted to understand why or not, he was drawn to the girl and, although he'd been shocked to discover it, the connection to her didn't bother him as much as it used to.
When he'd first been able to admit to himself he felt a small desire to look out for the withdrawn girl, he'd been surprised to realize that maybe for the first time in a long time he hadn't wanted anything from her in return (outside of his eventual need to save his father). Just maybe an occasional smile when he could check in on her.
It was incredibly unnerving.
He wasn't sure if it was good or bad his plan of following through and checking in on her had gone to hell in a handbasket anyway. He'd barely made it back once to see how she was dealing with everything, and even then he'd been breaking too many rules and putting her too close to multiple sources of danger (again). He hadn't even really gotten to see her, technically.
Even then he'd only been able to sneak his way back to New York by bending every rule he could under the guise of needing to wrap up his contract with Magneto. His father hadn't known Magneto was technically dead, but he'd needed to see Rogue just once more. And besides, he'd reasoned with himself, she needed her backpack back. He couldn't just keep it and hope he'd run into her to give it back eventually. She had shit in there, including a blank French homework worksheet, that she probably needed back.
Okay, maybe not a blank worksheet anymore…so he'd gotten bored and filled it in. She could probably use a break from some of the school shit anyway, he'd figured. Plus it was kinda fun finding the most vulgar answers he could. She could probably use a laugh too, although he wasn't fully sure he would be the person she'd want a laugh from. But he'd made a promise to them both so he had to go. Plus she needed her backpack back.
It was a shitty excuse, but he'd needed the excuse to justify to himself the idea of potentially putting her in the line of danger by checking in on her. It was dumb, but he'd wanted to prove to her (and maybe himself), for some reason he couldn't fathom, that he'd meant what he said.
He shouldn't have needed an excuse, but he'd reasoned with himself that her reaction to seeing him could be much better if he had an excuse to be there (flimsy as it was). But then again, Rogue's reaction hadn't been the biggest problem for him at the time. His inability to stop thinking about her had been the problem, paired with the fact that he really shouldn't have been thinking about her for even more reasons than he'd previously had. Their ages, their previous team affiliations, his criminal past, both of their trust issues; all were big enough problems as it was. The added addition of his father's choices closing in around him (forcing him down a path he hadn't wanted but nonetheless was stuck following) and his own past choices chasing after him like a bloodhound meant keeping thoughts of looking out for her or maybe fostering some sort of friendship had to be locked away in his brain. It had been the smartest choice for both of them.
That hadn't stopped him from being able to resist checking in on her just once and slipping another Queen of Hearts card in with her finished homework. A terrible decision, really, but not as terrible as his decision to scrawl his number across the back of the card. It wasn't fair to her when at that point he'd known he was barely even free to offer her protection, let alone be able to respond the way he would really want if she did reach out. Giving her a way to reach out and encouraging their bond to grow was perhaps one of his more selfish decisions, even if he had unselfish justifications as well.
He'd known she wouldn't message him (despite the fact that a small part of him had wanted to know what it would be like if she did) and although the whole notion made him uncomfortable, he just wanted to be sure she had a way to reach him if she wanted to. Like if she needed someone to look out for her or she was in trouble. She wasn't the type to ask for help, but he felt slightly better knowing if she did decide she needed help, she could call him (a feeling which made him feel altogether even more uncomfortable). He knew she wouldn't use it though, a small comfort even as he'd debated just taking the card out of her backpack. She would take it as a way to reach him in emergencies only, he'd justified to himself, and that was probably better for both of them in the long run.
Even if it hadn't done her much good when she had finally reached out to him (despite his best efforts).
Vaguely, Remy heard Magneto respond in affirmative. Outside of Cyke grumbling, most everyone had quieted in anticipation of landing.
"We'll unload and debrief once we land," he overheard Wolvie saying. "Then Chuck and Storm'll tell us where you'll crash for the night."
"I'm tellin' ya, Chuck. It's like nothin' I've seen the Sentinels do before. Trask has to have upgraded them or something."
Electricity shot through Remy's spine as Rogue's eyes met his for the first time since they'd stormed to their own respective seats on the plane. Her brow was wrinkled, frustration still evident in her eyes, but she didn't speak up. He clenched his jaw and looked away from her, wishing for something to do with his hands outside of crossing his arms. As much as he might want to say something about the Sentinels and the information he'd found, Remy couldn't go against Magneto and lose his contract. It was the only thing keeping him alive right now.
"They were identifying us out loud too, Professor. Teams, codenames, and capture orders," Jean added in.
"At least you got a capture order. I was listed as 'exterminate'," Nightcrawler grumbled.
That was something Remy hadn't found in any of the blueprints he'd gotten for Magneto. Almost crystal clear he heard the Sentinel's metallic voice in his head listing Rogue as 'capture'. He didn't like the idea of that at all.
Rogue cut in next. Remy trained his face away from her, careful to keep it blank, hoping she wasn't about to put them both in a bad position by saying too much. "They were movin' together too. Almost like a pack."
As much as he wanted to look at her and acknowledge her keeping her mouth shut about the blueprints he'd stolen, he kept his face turned towards the leaders as the group continued to discuss what they'd seen. The hanger bay was large, but it felt astronomically bigger when she refused to meet his eyes.
"I don't know about you guys, but their guns packed way more of a punch this time around for me," Cyke said. Remy had to silently agree with him. Their weapons units had definitely been upgraded.
"Someone's been busy," growled Wolvie.
"Do you think this could be Trask still, Logan?" Xavier inquired, his hands steepled as he and Magneto exchanged looks.
"I know someone who can find out," Logan said, pulling out a phone and stalking off.
"Magnus, what do you know of this," asked Xavier, eyes meeting Magneto's.
"Little more than you for now. I had heard rumors of a government program working on the ultimate mutant tracking machine. I had one of my team go in to steal some blueprints so we might get a better idea of what's to come, but once your team arrived there was no chance of looking around as much as I would have prefered. Gambit," Magneto said, polished and cold as usual. "Did you manage to find anything of use?"
If he were the type of guy to sigh in relief, he would. Aware of Rogue's eyes trained on his face the whole time, Gambit pulled out the USB drive with the documents he'd managed to steal before he'd been signaled to retreat. Great. Now she wanted to look at him, right when he couldn't look back at her. Figures.
He stepped forward to hand the USB to Magneto's waiting hand and turned to walk back to the spot he'd been occupying. Rogue had already averted her eyes and was staring at her professor with the intense focus of someone very loudly ignoring another person. Two could play at that game, chérie.
Remy's ears pricked up as he heard Cyke ask about Sabretooth, apparently assuming their entire team lineup was the same. Remy carefully trained his face so his discomfort wouldn't show. Creed was not someone he wanted to be around or talk about for many reasons, so he'd been glad when Magneto hadn't tried harder to get him to rejoin the Acolytes. He was also glad Magneto hadn't asked him to go track down Sabretooth so they could have a face to face conversation. He wouldn't have any trouble finding Creed; Remy was pretty sure he knew exactly where Creed would still be and he wasn't fond of the idea of going back there.
"He's under a different contract currently," Magneto said breezily. "I believe our debriefing is done for the night, yes, Charles?"
Xavier nodded in agreeance and Remy was struck again by how much reverence and general respect each man held for their "mortal enemy". "Yes. Storm will be here shortly to take you to your rooms. You are welcome to them however long you require staying here."
Magneto almost seemed to be rolling his eyes at the other man and his lips twitched before answering. "We'll start with one night, Charles. Then my team and I will decide what the best course of action is for us."
Logan had returned, but was now giving information from his phone call to the Professor and Magneto in some secret conference. Rogue wasn't sure why they didn't just tell everyone right now-they were all probably going to find out again tomorrow. She plucked at a loose string on one of her gloves, unsure of what to do when everyone had broken off into smaller groups after the debriefing.
Kitty was off again talking to Piotr. It was almost comical when she looked at the size difference between the two, but the quiet man was so sweet to her old roommate Rogue wasn't about to actually let herself laugh. Jean and Kurt had taken Scott off to get patched up-his leg hadn't been torn up as badly as Rogue had thought, but still required care. Even Gambit was preoccupied, talking to Pyro quietly. There was humor on Pyro's face, but she wasn't sure if that meant a jovial conversation or just that Pyro found everything funny.
She quickly tore her eyes away from that direction. She was not about to let herself get caught again in Gambit's stare. It had happened far too many times today and Rogue was not about to let herself be trapped in the garnet of his eyes one more time if she could help it. She blew some bangs out of her face and turned to walk past him and out the door. There was really no need to stay anymore and she could use a shower to ease away her tension after everything that had happened.
She'd made it no more than five steps towards the door when her arm was grabbed and she was yanked forcefully around, made to turn and look into the eyes of her mother. She glared into Mystique's eyes as she ripped her arm out of Mystique's grasp. Rogue had nothing to say to her and she definitely didn't need to hear anything Mystique was about to say.
"Rogue-"
Before Mystique could really start what she was going to say, Rogue again felt a tug on her arm, pulling her a few feet sideways towards the wall. She was just about done with all the damn tugging at this point. This time the tug on her arm was much more gentle, although it had a firmness to it that kept her from getting too out of sorts as she was again pulled in another direction. Aw, hell. She didn't need to look down at the large hand pulling her to figure out who it was. The immediate warmth Rogue felt coming from his direction told Rogue all that she needed to know, even if he hadn't begun to speak right away.
He pulled her several steps along, a completely amiable and casual air about him like they were just pals going for a walk through the park, following her original path along the hallway to the elevator. After they came up short of the elevator door, Rogue found her back against the corner at the end of the hallway with Gambit leaning over her, shoulder propped against the wall and legs crossed at the ankle. He leaned down to her slightly, continuing to tower over her as his neck craned down towards her face, and his grip on her upper arm loosened but remained all the same.
"What y' think about givin' y' fellow southerner the grand tour 'round here, chére?" His bo staff, Rogue noticed, currently was nonchalantly extended from his other hand almost touching her calf as it went downwards to touch the ground past her leg. Between the walls, Gambit, and his staff, Rogue was blocked from her mother on almost all four sides. Mystique was not able to get right up in Rogue's space without knocking Gambit aside or potentially getting thwacked by his staff. Mystique had followed after Rogue as she was tugged away, but with Gambit now towering over Rogue, Mystique couldn't get as close.
"In your dreams, Swamp Rat," she barely managed to get out through gritted teeth. Given the choice between Gambit and Mystique, there was a very clear winner no matter how uncomfortable Gambit made her. She was guessing he'd been counting on that, she just couldn't guess why. Good intentions or not, she was getting very tired of him deciding she needed him to take care of her.
He feigned shock and mock gasped. "Chére, how'd y' find out about m' dreams?"
Mystique started to speak to her daughter again, but Rogue refused to look in her direction. She locked her stare on Gambit and played along, rolling her eyes. "Don't take a genius to figure out what you might be dreamin' of, Cajun."
"Non? Y' sure y' imagination's as good as mine?"
Rogue blinked, the suggestion clear in his voice. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "I've had you in my head before, Gambit. I reckon I got a decent idea of what's goin' on in that mind'o yours."
Mystique reached in to grab Rogue's arm and Rogue almost winced when Gambit's staff quickly spun upwards, now propped against the wall near Rogue's shoulder instead of her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Rogue could see Mystique fix Gambit with a murderous expression that made the southern belle feel anger of her own, although she wasn't sure which Acolyte to aim it at. Gambit was putting himself in the middle of a mess he might not walk out of with Mystique and although Rogue had no clue what to do with him, she at least knew she didn't want him to suffer at the hands of her crazy mother.
"Could always give y' a refresher if a 'decent' idea's all y' got, chére."
She rolled her eyes, feeling incredibly uncomfortable that she had to look at him if she wanted to avoid paying any attention to her mother. "Cram it, Cajun."
He grinned cockily, humor leaking into his voice. At least one of them was amused here. "Careful, chére, almost sounds like y' startin' t' like me."
If Rogue really focused, she could hear Mystique trying to speak over the two southerners, but the roaring in her ears (at what she couldn't say: embarrassment? Frustration? Anger? Something else entirely? All of the above? Who knew) and her discomfort kept Rogue's focus easily on Gambit.
"Y' wantin' t' make those dreams a reality, p'tite?" He waggled his eyebrows, smirk still settled comfortably upon his face, and Rogue resisted the urge to suckerpunch him in the gut. He seemed to be holding back laughter the more frustrated Mystique got.
Mystique tried to cut in again, only for Rogue to speak over her with a response for Gambit. "You wish."
His smirk deepened, eyes alight with mischief. It was so different from the way he'd looked at her when they'd been fighting on the plane. She wasn't sure if this was worse or better. He leaned closer and this time she let herself lean back from him slightly. There was a flash in his eyes once she did and although he kept up his gremlin demeanor, the spark in his eyes was gone just as quickly as it had come. His tone was just as impish as before, but it had lost some of the energy she usually felt behind his voice when he talked. "Oh, but I do, chére. So how's about showin' this Cajun around?"
She scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him. "I think Hank's got the tour covered, Gambit. But if you need any other assistance, I'm sure Scott would be just as happy to help you out."
In her peripheral vision, Rogue saw her mother take off in the opposite direction, fuming yet now deadly quiet from her daughter's stubborn attitude and refusal to speak. Although she was slightly concerned with how easily Mystique gave up, relief washed through Rogue all the same. She was sure Gambit interrupting made matters worse as well and it worried Rogue. She might be pissed at him, but she didn't necessarily want him to have to deal with Mystique's wrath.
The second Rogue knew Mystique was out of earshot, Rogue poked her finger into Gambit's chest. His face had gone carefully blank even before she spoke, voice hissing like a viper. "I don't need your help avoiding Mystique, Gambit."
His lips turned downward enough that she could notice, but the rest of his face stayed neutral, even his eyes. His voice was suddenly so devoid of emotion it was almost startling. "'M well aware, Rogue. You've made that perfectly clear. Don't mean it shouldn't be offered anyway."
And there it was: the same whisper of promises and sweet words he'd caught her with in New Orleans. His voice spoke of connection and mutual respect, but it was entirely too unrealistic to consider. She could only hope someday she might find someone to trust and to have her back while they had hers. Everyone in her life had either let her down or had someone else who came before Rogue. It was just the way things were and Gambit was no exception to the rule.
He seemed to exhale slowly and suddenly he was back to looking at her with that intense look again and she didn't know how many more times she could handle the stress it put her poor heart under as it raced on and on.
"Rogue," he said, his tone back to the warmth she hadn't known she associated with him until that moment. He said her name so softly this time and it was so different from the current established norm that she broke her rule and looked at him directly in the eyes. Not a single part of them was close to touching, but she felt swallowed by his stature all the same. "You might not want me helpin' y' out. That's fine. But that's all I'm tryin' t' do. 'M not tryin' t' do things for you, but sometimes y' just too damn stubborn t' ask for help when y' could use it. I told y' I'd be lookin' out f' you. How much clearer do I gotta be, girl?"
As he finished speaking, just as softly as he'd begun, Rogue was struck by the slight cracks in the mask he was always wearing to hide his thoughts from everyone. She'd only seen it once or twice in New Orleans and she was pretty sure he hadn't know his poker face had fallen when it had happened, but when he looked at her this way, almost earnest although still defensive, she couldn't help but want to believe him. He'd told her once that it is nice having someone to watch over you and she had to shove down the part of her that wanted to believe he actually meant it when he'd alluded it to be himself. Maybe it would be nice to not feel so alone and to have someone put her so high up on their priority list, but she wasn't likely to find out. That kind of life wasn't for the untouchable girl who couldn't let anyone get close.
Rogue felt a flush fall over her cheeks, anger welling in her stomach and throat tight. Everything about him, from his cautiously gentle face to his posture to his proximity to the almost pleading look in his eyes made her feel like she was trapped and suffocating in him. Her lips twisted in frustration so she could barely spit out her response. "Well I don't know, Gambit. You've said it over and over and I'm clearly too damn stubborn to understand so why don't you give it a try one more time?"
His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed once more, gentle look gone, as he leaned further in to her space again, bringing their noses dangerously close. "Well maybe I wouldn' have t' say it over and over if y' woulda just listened to me the first time."
This time, it was Rogue who was cut off from responding as Hank arrived and his voice rung throughout the hanger bay. It was probably better in the long run she didn't get the chance to explain to him all the reasons she had to not trust his word, even if he might deserve to hear it right now. "Alright, Acolytes. Let's take you to your rooms."
Even as Magneto, Mystique, Pyro, and Piotr made their way to Hank, Gambit stayed rooted in his spot, staring Rogue down. She cleared her throat, hoping that would get him to turn around and walk away. It did, but only after his expression changed again. She tried to quickly translate what his face was saying to her, but she was too slow as his face was back to that same blank mask he hid behind. Rogue wasn't sure why her stomach jerked and flipped uncomfortably when he turned around without a word to go join his teammates. Her cheeks still tinted with frustration, she turned quickly as well to take off for the elevator doors.
Rogue sighed as she turned off the hot water. She supposed it was probably time to vacate the bathroom and get on with her night. She had homework to finish still and Kitty had probably finished up downstairs and was waiting for the shower. Although the senior X Men team all had their own rooms now (something Bobby heavily protested), they all still shared bathrooms with an adjoining room (except Jean, who had lucked out). Sharing a bathroom with Kitty was no problem after dealing with the communal bathroom in the girl's hallway for so long though so Rogue was happy to make the change.
Rogue held more affection for Kitty than most (outside of maybe Kurt and Logan), but she'd never been so glad as she was when they were told they were each going to have their own room. There was something about having a space that was yours and yours only that gave Rogue peace. She and Kitty had been pretty good at keeping their spaces separate in their old room, but there's only so much you can do when you share a room with someone.
She grabbed a towel and began drying off, mentally ticking through her list of what she needed to prepare for tomorrow. She'd managed to finish her French and Pre-Calc work the night beforehand, so she was only left with a few chapters to read before school started. As she finished drying her body and began fluffing her hair with the towel she snorted to herself remembering Kurt stopping by before she'd managed to get into the shower and asking if she thought Scott would cancel the Danger Room session tomorrow ("Hey, maybe we won't have to play Capture the Flag even if he does run a session!" Kurt had said with all the joy of a puppy). She sure hoped Scott cancelled it. She could use the time in the morning to do her homework and crash now if that was the case. She wrapped the towel around herself and ran a brush through her hair, removing any trace of the natural wave it was already shaping into. She'd have to text Jean and see if she would take one for the team and ask Scott.
She sighed again and unlocked the door that led to Kitty's room so the other girl could use their bathroom before turning to exit into her own room to get dressed.
She made her way to her phone first, sending off a text to Jean about the Danger Room for tomorrow and then made herself busy grabbing her pajamas. Another perk of having her own bedroom, Rogue was happy she now had a place somewhere in the world where she didn't have to be 100% covered up. She could wait to put her gloves on after showering if she wanted (or not even wear them at all until she left her room) and, best of all, she could wear shorts and a tank to her heart's content. She did just that leaving her gloves on the nightstand.
She piddled around tidying up her dresser (mostly to avoid starting her English reading assignment) while she waited for Jean to reply. She began putting away some clothes she had washed the previous night, trying to not let her eyes catch on the stray playing card or the homework assignment with "Rogue, your knowledge of French swears and vulgar phrases is impressive but completely inappropriate. See me after class" scrawled across the top in bright red ink. They hid at the bottom of her sock drawer, somewhere boring enough not many people would think to look through it first. She wasn't sure why she kept the damn things, she thought to herself as she began rushing to finish putting her socks away, just to get her mind off the subject of the person who had gifted them to her.
Maybe it was that when she saw the card she remembered the slight spark of hope he'd given her that he wanted her to be looked after. Or maybe that his answers on her assignment did manage to make her snort in amusement when she would reread them. Or maybe she was a sentimental dumbass who couldn't bring herself to just throw them away for reasons she was choosing to not examine.
She was so absorbed in finishing up her sock drawer that she almost didn't hear a rapping at her balcony doors.
Almost.
Rogue whipped around, already knowing it could be one of two people, and braced herself knowing she really didn't want to deal with Mystique and she didn't want to fight with Gambit anymore today. She shoved her unfolded socks into her drawer to hide the evidence as subtlety as possible and quickly stood to see Remy LeBeau outside on her balcony.
His posture was rigid and his face carefully blank as he looked back at her, waiting to see if she would let him in. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Gambit's hands were shoved in his pockets and although he was the picture of calm, there was an energy buzzing around him that Rogue felt skittering across her skin from clear across the room.
She hated how it felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. This was Gambit. Just Gambit. She was pissed at him for sure and he had the tendency to make her nervous, but that was no reason for her chest to tighten so much when she saw him. No matter how long it had been since she'd seen him and how surprised she'd been, she shouldn't be having this involuntary reaction. She clenched her fists at her sides as he continued to calmly look back at her, waiting for her to make a decision. She took a deep breath and spoke finally, watching his face for any indication of what was to come. "It's open," she said simply, wondering why the hell she was even letting him come in, and gestured to the door before she bent down to her laundry pile to pull out a hoodie and some knee socks for some sort of coverage.
She pulled the hoodie over her head and gathered her socks, noticing as she stood that Gambit's eyes were now nowhere near her face. His entire form was so frozen that for a moment she wondered if she had actually spoken out loud until she saw his hand was now resting on the door handle, although it was just as frozen as the rest of him.
The only part of him that was moving was his eyes, alight and doing that thing again where they were almost glowing. His eyes raked up and down her form and she was uncomfortably aware of the fact that she'd basically been wearing nothing before she pulled her hoodie on, as well as how short she knew her shorts were (and how much shorter they could have been when she was bent over to pick up her socks). She tried to follow his earlier lead and settled on as neutral of an expression as possible on her face (an incredibly hard task when she could see his eyes continuing to rove over her body and the exposed skin on her legs). She raised an eyebrow at him and turned away from his face, almost feeling dizzy under his continued staring. She had just enough time to walk over to her bed to sit down and start pulling on her gloves from the nightstand before he slowly opened the door, looking down at the handle as he turned it and walked in.
When she sat down and looked back at him, she was half relieved to see his gaze now lay upon her door handle, a slight frown gracing his lips. "Big, fancy mansion and y' Professor cain't bother t' put locks on the doors?"
Rogue finished pulling on her first sock and stopped before grabbing the second, confused. "There's a lock."
He stared at her for a second, exasperation (something she was starting to recognize better and better by the small quirk in one eyebrow paired with several blinks) clear on his face. "This place gets attacked basically every damn week and y' don't lock y' door?"
Rogue frowned and reached to her second sock, pulling it up and over her leg as she responded sarcastically, "most people who wanna get in ain't gonna be stopped by a lock, Cajun."
He scowled but didn't respond, although his disagreement with her statement was palpable in the air. When he didn't respond, she looked up from her leg to his face expectantly. His eyes, which had been unnervingly focused on her face up until that point, were now focused on her hands pulling the sock up her leg. All exasperation was gone from his face, replaced with that look she couldn't decode. His half lidded eyes were laser focused on her half socked leg and she was sure she didn't imagine the heat she felt trail up her legs along with his eyes, as his tongue darted out quickly to wet his lips and he stood there just staring at her. The look made her feel self conscious, although not small. It brought back that funny feeling in her stomach and she still couldn't decide how she felt about that. His eyes lingered on her legs until they travelled upwards to the line of her shorts, which again suddenly felt incredibly small to Rogue.
"You gonna stand there all night, Gambit? Or you got somethin' to say?"
He snapped back into the neutral expression he'd started in, tearing his eyes away from her legs. He could hide his emotions, but she couldn't help but notice how tired he seemed. Although, despite how exhausted he looked, there was still a restless energy about him. He walked over to the top of her dresser, poking a few things here and there and picking up a picture of her, Kurt, and Scott as he started to speak again.
"Took me a while t' find y' new room. Nearly scared the shit outta some kid when I showed up outside where y' old room was." Rogue fought the urge to laugh. Poor Jamie.
Honestly, she didn't know how she felt about him having to find her new room. She hadn't even known Gambit knew where her old room was until he had shown up with her backpack, although the knowledge hadn't surprised her at the time. Alarmed her maybe, but he'd told her he'd been watching her for weeks. It was only natural he would have figured out her room back then.
Gambit had set the picture down now and seemed to be trying to look anywhere but her face, a stark although not unwelcome difference. "Got y' arm all taken care of?"
"Huh?" She was momentarily confused before remembering the mark on her arm from battling the Sentinels. She had barely remembered, so she was surprised he did. "Oh. Yeah. Hank fixed me up," she said mentally wincing at how lame that sounded. Good going, Rogue.
He simply nodded and moved over to her bookshelf, looking through what books she had. The whole situation was so bizarre she was having trouble processing it. Before today, they hadn't seen each other in eight months and today they'd spent a large amount of their time around each other bickering, yet here he was walking around her room and looking at everything like this was just a normal Sunday and he came over to visit all the time.
His hands skimmed over the books lightly until he came to the end of her shelf and saw her backpack sitting next to it, the same one he'd returned to her.
His eyebrow raised and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Guess y' managed t' get the eau de bayou outta this." There was a tinge of humor in his tone.
She cleared her throat, not liking how much weirder this conversation felt every time he switched subjects.
"Didn't really see a point in buyin' a new one, especially when I kept missin' school more often than not," she replied, shrugging.
He nodded in response and Rogue thought she might have imagined a slight turn of his lips downward before it was gone without a trace. Gambit looked on at the backpack a moment longer and she could see his shoulders oddly now had much less tension as he continued to look at the bag a moment longer before turning away from her again. This time he chose to turn his focus to running his quick fingers over the items and knick knacks on top of her bookcase. She was unnerved by how he was moving and acting. It was too casual. Too forced. It was all so perfectly manufactured to put her at ease while he held all the playing cards. She wasn't sure what to do, but an angry response felt disingenuous even if it felt more comfortable than anything else, so she remained quiet, seated on the edge of her bed. He kept his focus on the random jewelry and pens on her bookshelf and she found that at this angle she couldn't see his expression at all.
"Y' didn't rat me out t' y' professor," he drawled, tone casual yet incredibly controlled at the same time. She wasn't sure what to say and she had no explanation for why she'd chosen to keep the information Gambit had given her about the Sentinels and their upgrades to herself. She looked down, deciding that perhaps not answering might be the best call.
He didn't turn to look when she didn't respond, simply picked up a few items or books to get a closer look before placing them back where she'd originally had them. He kept his back to hers as he circled the room, taking in the few posters and pictures she had on her wall as well as pausing momentarily on her pile of unfolded clothes. She tried not to blush when she realized she had several bras and pairs of underwear right on top of the pile.
He turned to her, and although his gaze seemed fixed on her shoulder instead of her face, his tone had changed back to that teasing note and a grin broke across his face. "Didn't picture you f' a lace kinda gal, chére."
She knew she was actually blushing now and had he not quickly backed away from the pile she would have been about half a second from launching herself in his direction to knee him in the crotch. He gave a half laugh at whatever look had fallen over her face and moved towards her, making her bristle even more. She watched him warily, not taking her eyes off his face. He was still not looking her in the eyes and while it allowed her to continue to examine him closer, it made her wary.
He stopped a few feet in front of her, eyes off to the side and hands back in his pockets. "M' not sure how t' do this."
She blinked, confused. "...do what?"
He sighed and sat himself next to her on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands as he rubbed his eyes. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to make room for him or stand or stay where she was...no one had ever sat on her bed with her before. "This," he said one he'd finished rubbing his face and gestured between them.
She knew confusion showed on her face, but she couldn't help it. What about them? He lifted his face up, but he was looking off distantly to the other side of her room instead of in her direction.
Rogue wasn't used to being the one trying to get someone to look back at her. Generally the less people she had looking at her, the better. Yet here she was trying to get him to look her in the eyes, the exact opposite of what her goal had been for the majority of the day. She stared at him, hoping he would get the message and just look back at her.
She saw his eyes flicker in her direction, definitely taking in the fact that she was looking at him dead on but choosing to look ahead instead of meet her eye contact.
"This?" she asked, mouth suddenly very dry. His gesture between the two of them could mean so many different things and Rogue would freely admit she had very little clue which "this" it would be. She understood Gambit decently well sometimes, but this was not one of those times. Honestly she was too tired to guess at this point.
Gambit's head turned her way a fraction before snapping back to the picture of her and Kitty across the room on her wall. Rogue almost sighed as she continued to stare at the Cajun, waiting for him to just turn around and fix her with that insufferable smirk he always wore.
He snorted softly, eyes very focused on his hands now. "Y' got a better descriptor?"
She swallowed hard, uncertainty giving her stubbornness an extra edge. "I -damnit would you just look at me for a second?"
He visibly winced and finally met her eyes. "Didn't wanna accidentally charm y' or something. Didn't think either of us would want that."
"...oh." Again, a very intelligent and smooth response. She was on a roll tonight.
She curled her legs up to her chest and leaned back against the wall, still watching his face as she put her chin on her knees. It was clear from the look in his eyes that he was wrestling with something, she just had no idea if she was going to like what he was wrestling with.
He frowned again and let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brow furrowed and frustration incredibly clear across every muscle in his body from his face to the hunch of his shoulders and his fidgeting hands. "This how it's gonna be?"
She quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
"You givin' me the silent treatment. That how this is gonna go?"
She looked down at her toes, not sure how to answer that. She had no answer for him even if she wanted to give one. She wasn't purposefully choosing not to answer, just...uncharacteristically unable to answer him. Something about him was making her too damn tongue tied today. She'd spent her entire day thrown out of her element and him being in her bedroom on her bed was only making everything feel more surreal. Anyone else and she would have had a million things to say, but with Gambit she was thrown for a loop.
He looked down at his own feet, his jaw working overtime, before pulling out a deck of cards and starting to shuffle them idly. "Guessin' an apology ain't gonna change much at this point, eh, chére?"
She turned her face in his direction, cheek resting on her knees, and looked him square in the face even if he was incredibly focused on the cards moving between his hands. Just as she was about to speak, he continued on, his quiet tone making the timbre of his voice even deeper and warmer. "Can't say I don't blame y'. Not really sure an apology can make up for bein' kidnapped. And lied to." His cards moved smoothly and quietly, even as the speed of his shuffles increased. His voice was so casual it was unnerving. "And there's the radio silence too. Even bigger of a dick move after I gave y' a way to call if y' needed." His cards flew quickly from hand to hand, the complexity of his movements increasing the more he spoke, although the calm demeanor never left his voice. "Probably shouldn't even be hopin' t' make it up t' you neither."
She snorted and he finally looked back at her, deck of cards halting for him to begin playing with just one card, traveling across his hand through his fingers back and forth, as he carefully and almost warily watched her face. "Not sure why you'd wanna, Gambit."
She looked away from his face after speaking. Something about admitting what she was actually thinking was made all the more uncomfortable by locking eyes with him. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she leaned further back against the wall behind her. "I'm not doin' in on purpose." He continued to look at her seriously, giving her room to clarify. "I'm not tryin' to give you the silent treatment. I just don't know what to say." He raised an eyebrow at her as he turned his body in her direction, one leg hanging off the edge of the bed but his other folding itself up onto the mattress so he could lean towards her better.
She frowned, continuing to walk the line between comfort and discomfort. Every word was incredibly terrifying to say, but she'd freely admitted things to Gambit in New Orleans she'd never have been admit to anyone else. The part of her that wasn't pissed off and confused knew their mutual understanding was what allowed her to speak freely to him, even if she didn't fully get why. "I don't know what it is you're wantin' from me here, Cajun," she finished quietly, picking at her comforter.
He continued to watch her, and she was struck by how the shadows and light played across his face to make his expression that much more serious. He looked at her for a moment longer and she was surprised to realize his card had stilled. His hand now rested on her comforter, close to her own as he leaned toward her a little more. His voice was just as soft as he answered. "I dunno. Somethin' like N'awlins?"
She turned from her comforter (and their incredibly close hands) to look at him and their eyes met again, now firmly and stubbornly locked in to one another. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to hear but that definitely wasn't it.
"Wasn't all bad, was it?" Underneath his confidence and bravado, she saw a quick flicker in his eyes and heard a subtle note in his voice that was so familiar and genuine it made the clenching in her chest start anew. It shouldn't have been familiar, she'd only seen it briefly for moments here and there throughout their excursion in New Orleans. But from those moments, she remembered not only the camaraderie it had brought her, but also she could remember how he had felt.
His psyche had been gone from her head so quickly after New Orleans, but there had been enough time for her to gather flashes of his thoughts she knew neither of them were comfortable with him to voicing in the real world. She remembered his desperation. She remembered him thinking how easy it could be to steal Rogue away. She remembered him concocting the perfect plan, the right words to say, the exact traumas they shared to touch upon to start bonding. She remembered him working to keep the mission on task at all costs. She hadn't liked those parts of his memories so much (neither had his psyche), but, as with all people she touched, she was powerless to choose what she took.
She also remembered his own words sounding fake to his ears the more they talked. The gross feeling in his stomach whenever he'd have to switch them from genuine conversation to part of his script. How he'd felt their constant snarking and sarcasm had made both of them feel safe enough to actually just talk to someone and how it was nice for once to feel that way. Almost like having a friend. How he'd felt he really did understand her and he'd hoped she actually understood him back. She remembered him realizing he'd been wrong. That he shouldn't have done this to her and part of him wishing he'd had no ulterior motive and the story he'd told her was true. That he was sorry.
It was why she'd gone back for him.
"No," she agreed, searching his face. "It wasn't all bad."
A gentle smile, one she was sure she'd never gotten to see before, graced his lips. It was almost shy and she couldn't stop her lips from answering with a small smile back.
He looked down again, choosing his words carefully before looking back up at her. She wasn't sure bashful was a word she had ever associated with Gambit before, yet here he was the very picture of it. It was almost sweet seeing him so out of his element and she was having trouble deciding if she should listen to her knee jerk reaction that trusting anything he said or did was a bad idea after how New Orleans had ended.
"Y' think we could ever be like that again?"
She must have been quiet too long because he continued on, wry humor back in his voice, before she could speak. "Without the kidnapping this time."
She couldn't help it; she laughed. It wasn't that no one at the Institute made her laugh (she'd never admit how funny Bobby could be), just that it seemed to be very rare when it actually happened. She could be honest enough with herself to admit she had liked that part of New Orleans. "That'd be preferred, Swamp Rat."
He chuckled with her for a moment before continuing on. "Think y' can handle Cyclops' reaction to being on okay terms with y' kidnapper?"
Rogue snorted, an incredulous look on her face. "Considering he doesn't officially know you kidnapped me, I think he'll just have to deal with it."
Gambit looked surprised. She half smiled, an eyebrow raised at his expression as she continued on, voice a little less strong and feeling slightly uncomfortable admitting to him she'd continued to cover his ass even after they parted. "Just 'cause you kidnapped me doesn't mean you deserved bein' on Logan's hit list. I told my team you asked for my help and I agreed. Scott sayin' kidnappin' was all him."
His eyes flickered past several emotions again at that and the ghost of a soft smile remained on his lips and was his hand always that close to hers or was she just imagining things? "Y' didn't have t' cut me slack."
"I know. But like I said, you did the wrong thing for the right reason. It sucked, but I got it, even if I knew my team wouldn't."
A silence fell over them as he nodded, but it was no longer as awkward or loaded. "I woulda come back for Apocalypse if I could've." She almost jumped when she felt his pinky barely brush against her thumb, but forced herself to not give him any reaction to his casual touching, like playing a game of chicken. If he could be brave (she assumed) and come talk to her like this, she could pretend to be brave and not jump away from him. "Was on m' way once I saw y' text. Jus'...didn't get to follow through."
Rogue turned to look at him, and was suddenly disturbed to see an almost haunted look behind everything else in his eyes. She'd seen the expression in her own eyes before and she found she really didn't like seeing it on Gambit's face. It only exacerbated his exhaustion and she got the feeling whatever he'd been in the middle of had been just as much of an ordeal as Apocalypse, only he'd probably had to handle it alone. Maybe worse if he couldn't hide that look in his eyes from her. She knew he wouldn't intentionally be giving away any of his secrets that easily and that made her ability to read him so clearly that much more disturbing.
"You can tell me about it another time," she said firmly, although she put effort into keeping her tone somewhat soft, trying to match his. She knew he hadn't been about to tell her anything, but without knowing anything about what happened, Rogue knew she really didn't want him to feel like he owed her any explanation if the story brought that involuntary expression out of him. It was incredibly unnerving.
He moved himself to lean against the wall next to her, their shoulders a few inches apart, and she watched as he pulled out a card again, fidgeting with it as he moved it from finger to finger.
"Hey, Gambit?"
He snorted. "Remy."
"R-right," Rogue wasn't sure she'd be making that leap any time soon. Something about calling him by his real name felt like a line she wasn't ready to cross just yet. She hadn't even called him Remy in New Orleans so he had another thing coming if he thought she was about to start right away. She took a slow deep breath in before continuing, asking him something that had been on her mind since their first fight of the day. "If the Sentinels were all that was in the crate yard, why did you keep blockin' me from walkin' away from the direction they came from?"
Gambit looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his head tilting towards her slightly to show off his shit eating grin. "Didn't want y' t' have t' deal with mommy dearest if y' didn't have t'. Fuck, I didn't want t' have t' deal wit' her m'self, t' be honest."
Rogue's eyebrows raised and she pulled a face at the mention of Mystique, but she didn't turn her face towards his, despite knowing he was continuing to watch her carefully. "Can't say I blame you."
He chuckled, voice deep with the warmth of his laughter again. "Was hopin' y' wouldn't."
Rogue was about to respond, to ask why he would walk back into the Acolytes, why he would choose to work with Mystique if he hated her so much, if he was back by choice or by necessity, when her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She leaned onto her knees to grab the phone, hoping it was Jean with some good news.
She settled herself back against the wall, situating herself criss cross before swiping the screen up and seeing the amazing news that the morning Danger Room session was cancelled tomorrow. When she turned back to Gambit, she noticed that curiously his eyes weren't on her face or his card or even her phone, but back on the exposed skin between her socks and her shorts. She wanted to scoff and ask what the hell he was even looking at, but she decided that might alter the very delicate balance they'd just struck. Instead she spoke cautiously all the same, trying to keep the massive discomfort at the path his eyes were taking out of her voice. "Well, if one good thing came out of the Sentinels showing up, it's that now I don't have to do a Danger Room session in the morning."
His head snapped up to meet her eyes again and she found herself really wanting to ask him if she was imagining his eyes glowing and also why they did that.
"That mean you can stay up later?" He asked casually.
She frowned, staring at her homework sitting on the nightstand. "Technically, but then I'd have to finish my English homework in the morning before school."
"Thought you were a senior last year." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "How come y' still in school, chére?"
"Turns out even if you saved the world, you don't get any slack from Principal Kelly. Missed too much school and couldn't keep up so I'm havin' to repeat." It was a sore spot and not fun for her to admit.
"Figures. That Kelly guy sure likes to make mutant lives harder."
She nodded in agreement and reached for her book. "I should probably just read it tonight. I never get to sleep in."
"Well if y' wantin' a homework buddy, I could always stick around," for a brief moment she could have almost sworn he was looking for her to give him a reason to stay a little longer.
"Oh no, Swamp Rat. Last time you helped me with homework I ended up in a 30 minute meeting over the merits of using appropriate language and phrases."
He laughed, a loud laugh that she remembered hearing once before. It was kind of nice and it made his face all the more handsome when a smile stretched across his face and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Can't believe y' actually turned that in. Y' got an A though, right?"
She looked at him incredulously, "You're kiddin', right? A big, fat F."
He looked and sounded so offended she almost laughed. "That was perfect French. Didn't even throw in any Cajun phrases. Y' teacher's an idiot."
"To be fair, she complimented my ability to suddenly be able to conjugate verbs," she smiled. "Woulda gotten an F anyway if I'd done it. At least that way I got to laugh at the faces she made when she read what you wrote. "
His forehead furrowed at that and he fixed her with an incredibly confused expression. "What'd'y mean 'woulda gotten an F anyway'? Y' always doin' homework."
Rogue raised an eyebrow but chose to not comment on his awkward mention of information he must have gathered from his time "watching over" her, especially when his face showed he was ready to jump in and try to correct that blunder. She cut him off before he could, knowing with how amped up she was (and he must be too to have lose his calm, smooth demeanor) their somewhat truce with one another could go down the toilet pretty quickly. She was curious enough to see where this could be going that she wanted to keep them out of the danger zone. "That don't help the fact that I just suck at French."
"Well, good thing y' happen t' now be on decent terms wit' someone who speaks French fluently."
"Don't know how much that'd help. Logan knows French too-he tried to help. Just can't get it to stick in my brain."
"Mebbe y' just need y'self a better tutor than Wolvie. "
She grinned. "Better not let him catch you sayin' that, Swamp Rat."
Gambit rolled his eyes at her. "Remy."
She looked down at her hands. He was really gonna keep insisting on that, huh? She shook her head, deciding a subject change was safest. "Probably should have just taken German. I caught on to what Kurt taught me much quicker than anything in French class."
"Could be y' French teacher have just been shit though," he said, an almost cute frown on his face. "An F? Seriously?"
Rogue actually laughed this time at his disbelief and she was almost gratified to hear him laugh along with her. Yeah. She definitely had liked that part of New Orleans, she mused as she agreed with her previous sentiment. She looked away, finding that looking at him too much right now as they laughed and smiled together.
"Guess 'm jus' gonna have t' try again. Where's y' French homework?" Rogue was struck by the familiarity in his determined look. It reminded her slightly of when they'd been playing cards in their train car on the way to New Orleans. He'd been telling her stories to pass the time, his hair horror story among them, until eventually she'd been laughing along with him and his look of determination had flowed into something else she hadn't been able to translate at the time. She was a little surprised at herself that she wanted to say the right thing this time so she could have a second chance to figure it out.
She hummed, not able to keep herself from smiling a little still, "All finished for tomorrow. You're just gonna have to wait 'till next time, Cajun. Gonna earn an F all on my own this time."
He laughed again, although more subdued this time, and smiled at her. "Guess I'll leave y' to it then." He got off the bed and stood but paused before he stepped off anywhere. She looked up at him expectantly.
Before he turned to walk out the balcony doors, he hesitated a moment before fiddling with something in his hand. "Chére?"
She raised her eyebrows, allowing him to continue. He hesitated and looked down quickly, indecision dancing quickly through his eyes before he looked back to her, now holding something out to her. She unfolded her legs and moved to sit forward on her knees so she could take whatever he was holding out to her. She probably should have expected it to be a card.
"Merci," he finally said as she took the card, a guarded but somewhat relaxed smile on his face. She was pretty sure it was the card he'd been playing with during their conversation.
"De rien."
He burst out laughing. "Okay first thing's first, we gotta fix y' accent." Her jaw dropped and he laughed harder.
She waved her hand at him, rolling her eyes and gesturing for him to go, a smile she couldn't resist still on her face as she sat back on her knees still holding the card. He was still grinning by the time he spoke. "See y' tomorrow then, housemate. We got a lotta work t' do on y' French. Oh, an' don't f'get y' still owe me a tour'a this place." She started to protest she'd never technically agreed to either plan even as he grinned cheekily and gave her a two finger salute. He walked out the balcony doors and immediately hopped up onto the railing, jumping to the next room's balcony on his way back to his own room. She caught herself laughing a little more before grabbing her book, remembering the last time he'd handed her a card and ran off with a salute.
She didn't need to check which card was in her hand, but when she finally finished her reading and made the card into a bookmark before turning off the lights, she smiled all the same when her eyes confirmed he'd given her another Queen of Hearts.