Rogue dropped the rope she'd just reeled in. Moments ago, it had felt almost alive as it slithered through her hands at increasing speeds until she managed to get a firm grasp on it mere inches from the end. Now the rope pooled at her feet in a lifeless coil. Strange how an ordinary coil of rope had not only been a vital part of their strategy, but a literal lifeline as well. Rogue shook her head and brushed the damp, matted strands of white hair away from her face with the back of her hand. They had come too close to losing it all. If she hadn't grabbed a hold of the end—well, they wouldn't be standing here now.
"Darn it!" Rogue plucked at the shredded palms of her gloves. The skin below the ruined material stung and was pink from the friction but still remained unbroken. She flexed her fingers, the little of the fabric which remained strained with the movement and threatened to give way. If she was careful, she could probably make it back to her room at the Mansion without incident; though she wouldn't be able to shake anyone's hand. She rolled her eye and stifled an exasperated sigh. As if that was likely to happen.
"What's wrong, chère?" Gambit jogged up beside her. A layer of fresh mud caked the last several inches of his duster and left muddy streaks along his calves. The devil-may-care grin he'd maintained throughout the fight had been replaced with a concerned expression which furrowed his brow and tugged the corners of his lips downward. He grasped her shoulder while his scarlet gaze swept over her searching for the problem.
Rogue held up her hands, displaying her shredded gloves. "No touchin' swamp rat."
Immediately she felt the loss of his touch as his hand slipped from her shoulder in compliance to her statement. She wished she had worded it another way.
"Do you have another pair?" He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his duster and fumbled with the miscellanea hidden within.
Running her hands through her hair, Rogue let out a frustrated breath. A sensation of helplessness crept up her spine and hung over her in a heavy miasma. Her shoulders sagged and she ducked her chin, as though she'd be less of a danger if she pulled her extremities into her herself. The multiple layers of clothing provided a protective barrier between her touch and the world. To have that protection suddenly stripped away, left her vulnerable and dangerous. As a result, her words came out harsh and biting. "If Ah had another pair, then it wouldn' be much of a problem, now would it be?"
Gambit's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line as he bit back a sardonic response. His red eyes smoldered with a passion that matched her own. Too often their rising tempers sparked off each other like flint and steel. She could only imagine what it would be like if they could turn that spark into a more pleasant pursuit than fighting. Such scenarios had played out across her mind's eye more times than she cared to count or admit even to herself. Those might have beens always left her with an aching heart and a prickly temper. The only solution was to keep him at bay, right? If only she hadn't been cursed to spend her life alone. She forced the thoughts aside and clenched her jaw until it hurt.
The conversation lulled and she turned her back on him. Rogue tugged at the sleeves of her uniform in an attempt to hide her hands within the protective layer of fabric. The material stretched enough to cover her palms, but only as long as she kept her fingers curled around the cuffs. Otherwise, the sleeves would relax and bunch around her wrists. Holding the sleeves in place left her as helpless as being gloveless, if not more so, since it effectively left her without the use of her hands. Instead, she crossed her arms over her stomach and tucked her hands against her body.
In general, she didn't mind her uniform. The fitted bodysuit covered the majority of her skin—unlike the uniforms of some of her teammates—and the color brought out the green in her eyes, but she did miss the bomber jacket she'd worn for so long. Not only had the jacket served as another protective layer, it also had pockets. She had never managed to carry as much as Remy did, though they were large enough for a few necessities. And, in her case, spare gloves were definitely a necessity. Though she couldn't do much about it now.
Remy had taken a step closer when she had turned so he now stood right behind her. With what must have been a Herculean effort, he kept a respectful distance between them, waiting for her to open herself up to him. He hadn't touched her since she had warned him off and withdrew into her protective shell, yet every sensation in her body quivered at his nearness. Instinctually she moved back half a step so that her body almost pressed against his. At her nearness, Remy's breath caught in his chest with a nearly inaudible gasp. She closed her eyes and inhaled his heady scent. He often remarked that her scent was sweet. If that were the case, then she would describe his as spice mingled with leather and tobacco. Forcing herself to breathe normally, she hoped he couldn't tell how intensely he affected her. Though it was probably already too late for that. She was acutely aware of his every move and at this distance he could be no less certain of hers. There was a rustle of leather as he withdrew his hands from his pockets.
"Here chère, you can have dese." Reaching around her, he handed her a pair of gloves—his gloves, if the missing fingers were anything to go by. "I know dey don' exactly cover..."
"They're perfect, thanks Remy." Rogue slipped his gloves over her own. Between the two pairs, the world was once again safe from her cursed touch. With the restoration of the protective layers, her defensive posturing slipped away and she was able to relax. She flexed her fingers as though to prove she was no longer a danger to herself or others.
"Anyt'in' for you, mon chère." No matter how hard she tried to deny the effect, the low, rich murmur of his patois sent her heart racing. And, he was oh so close.
Overcome by an impulse she couldn't explain, Rogue whirled around quick enough to take even Remy off guard. Before he could react, she clamped a hand over his mouth and kissed the back of her hand in a lightning fast peck.
Recovering from his surprise, Remy wrapped an arm around her waist. His hand gently pressed against the small of her back.
"Don' go." The resonate thrum of his voice sent thrills down her spine. If she pulled away, he wouldn't stop her. She didn't fight his hold.
"Mmm?" Prompted by the security she felt with the restoration of her gloves, she leaned into him. For the second time in less than a minute she surprised him. His eyes widened and a sensuous smile played at his lips. Her body responded with a ready invitation before her brain could catch up with what she was about to do. Raising her face to his, her eyes fell half lidded and her lips parted. She rested a hand over his heart. Their hearts raced with long denied desire.
What am Ah doin'?
He hands dropped from her waist, offering her an out. When she didn't run, Remy cupped her head with one hand—exposed fingers tangled in her hair, his thumb catching a loose, white curl. Careful to avoid skin contact, Remy gently pressed his free hand over her mouth and returned the kiss.
When he released her, she flushed scarlet. Her brain scolded her with all the potential dangers which might have resulted from his reciprocation of her reckless stunt. The millions of words that came to mind to tell him off for being so bold died before they reached her lips. Those words weren't the honest ones.
Instead, she stepped back and smiled. The intensity of his smoldering eyes burned into her, reading her body and soul. It would be easier to run. It would definitely be safer. Instinct instructed her to protect her heart at all costs. The wisest course of action would be to turn her back on his love and deny her heart. But, she was tired of denying herself, of holding back. For once in her cursed existence, she wanted to be honest with the man who held her heart. The one she loved. So, Rogue forced herself to meet his gaze and accept all the love and friendship he was offering. "Thanks."
Remy smiled, a genuine grin meant only for her. The one no one else got to see. Reverently, he brushed his two covered fingertips over the exposed sliver of skin at her wrist created by the gap between her sleeve and the gloves. Her skin buzzed at his tantalizing touch. Possibilities and potentialities filled her brain. What ifs...rang in her ears.
With a final exquisite, tender caress, Remy adjusted her sleeve, restoring everything to its proper place. "De others will be waitin'."
"Right." Snapping back to reality, Rogue exhaled sharply, blowing the white fringe out of her eyes. "Let's go, sugah"
As they headed back in the direction of the Blackbird, Rogue allowed his touch to linger. Though home and family were her heart's desire and she dreamed of someday being able to have a husband and children (with Remy playing a featuring role in these daydreams), she knew in her heart of hearts that moments like the one they had just shared could only ever happen in passing. Surely someday his better sense would prevail and he would find someone to love with whom he didn't need to restrain himself. Someone he could touch without barriers. On that day, she knew she would have to let him go, but until then, she wanted to treasure these moments, these stollen touches. No matter what the future held, she would always cherish the time they spent together. Even if those memories would break her heart when he was no longer hers.
With a bittersweet smile, she slipped her glove covered hand into his. Her fingers entwined with his and Remy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. For now she was content and that was all she could ask of the moment. Being with Remy would always be a risk, yet Rogue knew when she was with him, she was safe.