A/N: Although no one has actually said so, I do know that my skill is not writing people's accents. I'm not even gonna pretend to care. No, I refuse to write Rogue with a "southern twang" because those stories usually make her look like a complete wuss. I said USUALLY. (Okie, I do realize that Rogue has cried like 800 times -small exaggeration- but pthhhhhhhhhh). I'm the author so get the fuck over it. Has anyone notice that I have psychiatric issues? I ran out of my pills awhile back and I've been told that I've changed a wee bit. Sweet, sweet reviewers, I LOVE YOU!!!!!! (Not my fault. Out a pills.) But no one is telling me what you wanna have happen. I wouldn't be able to survive if people started to hate the story. No one wants to see a psycho cry or so I've been told **Like! okay! has anyone out there used WET SHINE by MAYBELLINE? I find myself regularly dedicating worship sessions (?) to it. Yeah, that was only a little off the subject. Dammit! I cant get on FF.net right now and I'm gonna kill somebody. (NOT YOU SWEET, SWEET REVIEWERS!!) Since you guys kinda know me already I feel completely comfortable telling you that I'm wearing Scooby-Doo undies. SHHHHHH don't tell. I just painted me toenails blue! There now you know some intimate details about me and can call me a friend, no? Would you ever read a friend's story without reviewing?? If so, EVIL, devil child, you must suffer my wrath!! I just did a spell-check and they tried to change dammit to Dimmitt!! hehehehehe. Omigod!! I just found a clown doll in my "pet net" -you know those bright net thingies that hold stuffed animals. Yes, I do still have one. - And I'm NOT sleeping tonight. Err... this morning. So, lemme hear them phalanges pitter- pattering on them damn keys writing me a nice suggestive review. ::looks at you PRETTY PRETTY reviewers with huge puppy eyes (which are brown if your curious):: TATA.
When I got out of the shower I found Remy taking full advantage of our cable TV. I can honestly say that I've never seen anyone watch The Powerpuff Girls with such intensity in my entire life.
I climbed into the bed -I had decided that yes, I definitely get the bed. I fucking paid for it dammit- and stared blankly at the television. I suddenly realized that I was crying again. I was really pissing myself off. Remy apparently noticed and he came over and kneeled at the side of the bed and tried to wipe the tears away but I moved out of the range of touch. He looked confused and the slightest bit hurt so I told him that I couldn't touch people without draining them of their life source. He nodded.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I had to tell someone my side of the story, and it seemed that I was utterly friendless so I decided to tell Remy. If he wanted to hear it.
_________________________________________________________
POV of... haha me no tell, me no tell. It's pretty damn simple to figure out though. Use your noggin cuz I like the word.
Do I really think that Rogue killed Jean?
NO. Did I ever? Probably not. But I needed someone to blame. Jean was my everything. It's hard to get up in the morning. It just reminds me all over again that Jean isn't here. She never will be.
Now that I think about it, that's probably how Rogue is feeling. Not to mention the fact that she might blame herself. I don't blame her. I took my anger out on her. I regret it. A lot.
Jean and Rogue were like sisters, so Rogue and me were getting close too. I miss them. Of course I miss Jean, the woman I was going to marry, but I never would have thought that I'd miss Rogue this much. I did spend a lot of time with them both. My love, and who I had blamed for her death.
__________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: yes, another POV and so soon too. Remember the fonts!! Each character's POV will have a different font. If it helps any: so far Rogue is Footlight MT Light, Scott is Georgia Ref, and Logan will be Rockwell. That is at least if the damn fonts even show up on the net. I'm not real sure if they do, but they help me keep track so if they don't it's your problem (?) not mine. I am such a bitch! Anyways, I think that's all... I think I might actually write more A/N (S) than story.
Damn, I actually miss her. How did I manage to put myself into this position? I'm practically a fucking nomad. I can't be pining over a twenty-one year old. Especially after what I had done to her.
Why didn't I say something? I knew she didn't kill her. Fuck. Everyone knew. But I was supposed to protect her. It was Marie. Marie wouldn't kill Jeannie on purpose. Want to know something totally unexpected on my part? I miss Marie more than Jean. Sure I miss Jeannie. But I didn't even know it was possible to miss someone as much as I miss Marie.
No one used to trust me and I never trusted anyone. We broke new ground. I almost cried the other day. How scary is that. Even scarier, I have been completely fucking nice to Scoot. I don't care though. I have to find Marie.
________________________________________________________________________
By the time I had told my whole story to Remy I was cradled in his arms and shaking with sobs.
"Shhhhh" he hushed while putting a finger as close to my lips as possible without seizing. He brought the scarf I was wearing up over my lips and kissed me. (A/N: the scarf scenario's really original, neh?)
The kiss deepened and became more passionate. He stripped off my clothes and his own and used the sheets for protection. We didn't make love. That requires love. We had sex. I hated it. The whole time I felt like a slut. Dirty, used.
I was being used. The next morning the room was empty. And so was my pocket. Since I had so much practice at it, all I could do was cry.
_________________________________________________________
The professor used the cerebro. It turned out that my prediction was right. Nobody did think that Marie had killed Jean. Beast did an autopsy. She had been shot in the chest, and it had punctured a lung. He said that even if Marie hadn't drained her of life the bullet wound would have.
The professor found Marie at a hotel in Pennsylvania. I could tell by his expression that something was wrong. He told me that I should go alone. I did. And I did damn fast.
I got to the hotel in what I would say was record time. One eye's bike helped a lot. I might even get around to thanking him someday.
I broke the door right off it's hinges. The smell of Marie attacked me straight away. Then the smell of sex... and someone else.
I was furious, I saw her sitting on the bed and was about to yell at her when I noticed that she was rocking with her knees tucked into her chest. And she was sobbing. The single worst sound I have ever heard in my entire life.
I went over to her and picked her up. I moved the hair out of her face and kissed her on the top of her head, where her hair would keep me from touching her skin.
I sat down on the bed with her in my lap and hugged her.
Finally she stopped sobbing and wrapped her arms around my waist, digging her head into my chest. Fuck. I realized right then that I was in love.
A/N: I'm sorry to those who liked Remy as Rogue's guy. Not the evil, male slut that most make him out to be. But you know what? He is. But, don't worry you haven't seen the last of the Gambit. He'll be back. I'm not gonna promise that he won't be a he-whore though. Sorry that I just can't seem to write a long chapter. Does anyone out there live in Jacksonville, Florida?? I don't but I will soon. Anyways I'm ramblin' again so toodle-oo.