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Chapter 8: "It'll Help th' Sting"
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Rogue marinated for close to three weeks. During that time the only other person she told about her powers was the Professor. Xavier worked with Rogue to help her refine her new skills. She learned to take only what she wanted. The barriers Jean had helped her to install appeared completely effective. In a short period of time Rogue could feel someone's feelings or thoughts just by touching them. And most remarkably, she could change the intensity of that reception at will.
The Professor believed it had been wise for Rogue to spend sometime discovering the change without the knowledge of her teammates. Something she had been dreaming of since she first stole Cody's soul had now come to pass. Yet Rogue had lived so long without human touch, and as she pondered her new abilities, she realized that the isolation had been more than merely physical.
Now that the extraneous voices were gone, she noticed how over time she had become unaware of the discomfort she had endured. In the past she would visit a certain place, hear a certain name, even watch a leaf fall in a certain way, and would be lost in a remembrance that did not belong to her. She no longer had to stop and collect herself when an alien memory emerged. She no longer grabbed a pint of strawberry when she knew she liked chocolate better. However, this freedom was bittersweet. She was left alone with thoughts she knew were purely her own. And Rogue was faced with this truth: Perhaps the hardships that came with her mutation were fashioned by her own hand. Is it really so hard to get close to someone, even if you can't touch them? Rouge was beginning to realize that it was easier to push love away, than to embrace it and the vulnerability to which it was married.
In this time she saw many things about herself she had not noticed before. She also saw things about Remy that had previously been clouded. They were small things really. Things that had easily gone unnoticed. He "accidentally" let her see his cards when they played gin with their housemates. She overheard him fighting with Bobby about eating the last frosted-blueberry pop-tart, and he hated them. They were her favorite. It was those seemingly inconsequential deeds he did each day, which let her see how well he knew her, and how well he loved her.
One morning, after a particularly taxing session in the danger room, Rogue sat down in the common living room and tried to relax. The rest of the X-men had gone out for something to eat, but Rogue had not been in the mood. Despite her invulnerability, her muscles felt weak and sore. She shifted on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position.
"How ya feelin', mon belle?" Gambit strolled into the room, carrying two steaming mugs.
"Gambit," Rogue sat up confused, "what are ya doin' here? I thought y'all went out ta lunch with ev'ryone else."
"Nah, t'ought it would be much nicer to have it here wit' you." He set down the mugs, and went back into the kitchen. Rogue picked up the cup he'd placed in front of her and took a sip. It was strongly brewed black coffee, exactly how she liked it. Gambit returned from the kitchen with two plates. "You like Swiss cheese on your tuna, non?"
"Non... ah mean, yes," she said, lifting the bread off the corner of her sandwich. It was just the way she liked it. Not the way Cody, or Carol Danvers, or anyone else she'd ever taken into her mind liked it. He even toasted the bread and cut the crust off. She stared at it for more than a few moments, her eyebrows knitted tightly together.
Remy was about to take a bite of his sandwich, when he noticed her pained expression. "What's wrong, petite?"
Rogue shot him a fierce look. "What th' hell's wrong with you, Cajun?"
"Scuse me?" Gambit was completely shocked. "I was jus' tryin' t'do somet'ing nice."
"And it IS nice! But why? Why d'ya always gotta do stuff fo' me?" Rogue was sobbing, and flailing her hands in wild motions as she spoke.
"I...I... I don't know?" he offered. Rogue let out a huff of frustration and put both hands over her face. Remy was now completely confused. He knew that Rogue was often prone to sudden mood swings, but this was completely beyond him. "Chere, Gambit's sorry, but he don' understand."
"No, Ah'm sorry, sugah, AH don't understand." Rogue looked up into his face. "Ah don't understand how ya can be so good t'me. Ya do all these sweet lil' things for me, like cuttin' th' dang crust off my bread, and ah ain't ev'n noticed 'til now!"
"It's not a big t'ing, chere. I jus' made you a sandwich."
"Yeah! Ya made ME a sandwich." Rogue stared at him as if she couldn't believe that he didn't understand. Remy was obviously even more lost. Sighing, Rogue expanded on the reason behind her outburst. "Somehow, ya figured out how I like mah coffee, and mah sandwich, and mah movies, and ev'rything else there is ta know about me. Ev'n what kind o' damn pop-tart ah prefer! Half th' time ah don't even know what ah like, but ya always do... and ya make sure ah always get it that way."
Gambit paused and looked into her eyes. Even puffy and red from crying, they were still so beautiful they could make his heart crack in two. "I love you, Rogue."
"Well, stop it!" she stood and walked to the bay windows. The lawns outside were brilliantly green against the gray of the rain.
Gambit moved to stand behind her. He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, and spoke softly into her ear, "I don' t'ink I can jus' stop somet'ing like dis."
"Ah don't deserve it, Remy. Ah've been pushin' ya as far away as possible since day one." She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for the strength to say the words. "Ah've never loved ya like ya love me. Ah've hurt ya so much. Ah can't stand that ya jus' forgive me time an' again. Ah can't stand mahself 'cause of it. Ah need ya ta hate me, Remy. That's the only way ah can live with it."
Remy turned her to face him. He gripped both of her shoulders and followed her face until she was forced to look at him. She saw the hurt look in his eyes, the concern for her, that ever forgiving grace that she could no longer endure. "Remy, please don't...."
"Quiet, girl. You not be so tough as you act. Let's not pretend dat Remy be a saint here. You know very well de sins I've committed, jus' as well as I know yours. An' ah still love you, chere. I never stopped. Never." He brought a gloved hand to her chin to once again bring her eyes to his. "You're de best t'ing dis lousy t'ief ever had. For a long time I t'ought dat I could get your love de way I got everyt'ing else: by lying, and cheatin', and stealin'... An' when I knew dat it couldn't happen dat way, I learned dat if I wanted to be wit' someone like you, I was gonna have ta be a better man." He released his hold on her arms. "Dat's what I been tryin' ta do, ever since de day I laid eyes on ya, chere: I been tryin' to be worthy enough for ya... Now, how can you jus' ask me ta stop?"
Rogue stood frozen. Her breath came short, and tears rolled unchallenged across her cheeks. All that time she had thought that they were bad for each other. She had believed that only pain and mistrust could come from their coupling. Now, in his face, she found how much they needed each other. She had made him want to be the kind of person she'd known he was all along, and in the process he'd taught her how to love someone the way he always knew she could.
She fell into his arms, a quiet cry escaping her throat. He stiffened, a little bit more than surprised, seeing as he couldn't remember more than a few times she'd initiated any physical contact between them. As she wrapped one arm tightly around his waist, and tangled the other in his hair, he relaxed. He held her as close as he could, as if he wanted to melt into her. In a way he already had. He found himself completely lost in the embrace. "Love ya so much, chere," he whispered.
Rogue pulled away slightly, just enough so she could look in his eyes. She'd never felt safer in her life. Ironic that she should feel this way caught up in the emotions she feared so much. He was here. The man she loved more than she ever dared dream was possible, was here in her arms. He needed her. He loved her. She leaned closer to him, and closed her eyes, unafraid...
"You, STUPID Popsicle!!" Jubilee's shrill yell, and the bang of the door, caused Rogue's eyes to snap open. She pulled away from Remy's grasp just as the young girl stomped into the common room.
Bobby was trailing on her heels. A fraudulent look of remorse unsuccessfully attempted to mask a satisfied grin. "Aww, Jubes, I'm sorry... I swear, I thought you LIKED your food spicy!"
"Can it, Snowball! I'm not talking to you."
Gambit was more than a little annoyed at the abrupt intrusion. "What did de as*hole do now, petite?"
"Hey!" protested Bobby.
"Shut up, Frosty," commanded Gambit. Bobby thought of a comeback that described how (blanks) like LeBeau would be out of a job without as*holes like himself, but he decided it would earn him a black-eye, so he kept it to himself.
Jean walked in, frowning at the rude joke Bobby was thinking about. "Bobby put more than a little Tabasco in Jubilee's lunch," she explained.
The victim sat pouting on one of the couches. "I offered you a glass of water!" insisted Bobby.
"Yeah! That was frozen solid!" she spat back. "And then all the damn waiters came over and started singing 'Happy Birthday', and Wolvie and Betsy are apologizing for forgetting, and I'm trying to tell them it's not my birthday, but my mouth's on fire and I can't even talk!" Jubilee began crying, and whined, "I never should have come back here! I swear this is the last visit I ever make! I've never been that embarrassed, Bobby!" She put in a final, dramatic sob, and added, "And my tongue STILL hurts!"
Bobby merely shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's easy to solve. Just hold still, Firecracker. I'll cool you off."
"Noooo!!" shrieked Jubilee.
"Dat's it, Bobby!" yelled Gambit over Jubilee's wailing. "I suggest you start running. Now!"
Not needing further prompting, the offending Iceman took off like a lightening bolt with Gambit not far behind. Wolverine burst into the room shortly after. Apparently he'd finally realized what had happened at the restaurant. He took one look at the sobbing girl and turned to Rogue. "Which way?" he growled. Rogue pointed in the direction the two men had fled. "You better hope ol' Gumbo kills ya before I find ya, Cube!" he roared, as he tore off down the hall.
Rogue rolled her eyes at Jean, who gave her a knowing look. "Come on, sugah," she sighed, placing a hand on Jubilee's hair. "We'll get ya some milk an' bread from th' ki'chen. It'll help th' sting."
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"Logan?"
"Yeah, darlin'?" he grumbled hungrily against her neck.
"Perhaps this is not the best of locations for... well..."
"Meybe not." He tightened his arm around the small of her back. She felt the slight abrasion of his stubble as his mouth trailed across her face and back to her lips.
"Logan...I'm serious."
"Mmmhmm," he agreed, making no attempt to slow his pace. With his free hand he unzipped the back of her dress, and ran his fingertips down her now bare spine. She shuddered slightly under his touch. "Only problem is I don't think I have much control here, darlin'. So..." He lifted her easily up onto the counter, "if you don't want me t'do this... you're gonna hav'ta stop me."
"But a few of the others are still awake."
"And?"
"And what if one of them..." she had to pause as she drew a quick breath, "what if they saw us?"
"So?"
"So I'd like to keep our private business, from becoming public gossip."
"Then why don't you jus' tell me ta stop?" He kissed her before she had time to respond. Her mouth was soft and eager. * She's giving in,* he smiled to himself.
"Logan!?" gasped Rogue, as she walked into the kitchen. "Storm?"
They both jumped at the sound of her voice. Ororo quickly zipped up the back of her dress. The three were awkwardly silent for what seemed like an eternity. Rogue stood frozen, she was sure she'd stopped blinking. Ororo could only stare down at her feet. "Evenin', Rogue," Wolverine finally offered.
"Um..." Rogue struggled for something to say. "Y'all have a good time at the concert?"
Storm paused for a moment and eventually began to laugh. It was silent at first. Her body only shook, but at last the musical sound of her voice was audible. The uneasiness was broken, and soon Rogue and Logan couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Rogue, would it be too much to ask you to keep this between us three for now?"
"Keep what 'tween us? I didn't see nothin'," she cooed in that famous syrupy voice. She looked back over her shoulder as she left the room. "G'night y'all."
When she'd left, Storm turned to a slightly red Logan. "I told you so," she smiled.
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Author's Note: Gotta love a Canadian.
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Chapter 8: "It'll Help th' Sting"
*********************************************************************************
Rogue marinated for close to three weeks. During that time the only other person she told about her powers was the Professor. Xavier worked with Rogue to help her refine her new skills. She learned to take only what she wanted. The barriers Jean had helped her to install appeared completely effective. In a short period of time Rogue could feel someone's feelings or thoughts just by touching them. And most remarkably, she could change the intensity of that reception at will.
The Professor believed it had been wise for Rogue to spend sometime discovering the change without the knowledge of her teammates. Something she had been dreaming of since she first stole Cody's soul had now come to pass. Yet Rogue had lived so long without human touch, and as she pondered her new abilities, she realized that the isolation had been more than merely physical.
Now that the extraneous voices were gone, she noticed how over time she had become unaware of the discomfort she had endured. In the past she would visit a certain place, hear a certain name, even watch a leaf fall in a certain way, and would be lost in a remembrance that did not belong to her. She no longer had to stop and collect herself when an alien memory emerged. She no longer grabbed a pint of strawberry when she knew she liked chocolate better. However, this freedom was bittersweet. She was left alone with thoughts she knew were purely her own. And Rogue was faced with this truth: Perhaps the hardships that came with her mutation were fashioned by her own hand. Is it really so hard to get close to someone, even if you can't touch them? Rouge was beginning to realize that it was easier to push love away, than to embrace it and the vulnerability to which it was married.
In this time she saw many things about herself she had not noticed before. She also saw things about Remy that had previously been clouded. They were small things really. Things that had easily gone unnoticed. He "accidentally" let her see his cards when they played gin with their housemates. She overheard him fighting with Bobby about eating the last frosted-blueberry pop-tart, and he hated them. They were her favorite. It was those seemingly inconsequential deeds he did each day, which let her see how well he knew her, and how well he loved her.
One morning, after a particularly taxing session in the danger room, Rogue sat down in the common living room and tried to relax. The rest of the X-men had gone out for something to eat, but Rogue had not been in the mood. Despite her invulnerability, her muscles felt weak and sore. She shifted on the sofa, trying to find a comfortable position.
"How ya feelin', mon belle?" Gambit strolled into the room, carrying two steaming mugs.
"Gambit," Rogue sat up confused, "what are ya doin' here? I thought y'all went out ta lunch with ev'ryone else."
"Nah, t'ought it would be much nicer to have it here wit' you." He set down the mugs, and went back into the kitchen. Rogue picked up the cup he'd placed in front of her and took a sip. It was strongly brewed black coffee, exactly how she liked it. Gambit returned from the kitchen with two plates. "You like Swiss cheese on your tuna, non?"
"Non... ah mean, yes," she said, lifting the bread off the corner of her sandwich. It was just the way she liked it. Not the way Cody, or Carol Danvers, or anyone else she'd ever taken into her mind liked it. He even toasted the bread and cut the crust off. She stared at it for more than a few moments, her eyebrows knitted tightly together.
Remy was about to take a bite of his sandwich, when he noticed her pained expression. "What's wrong, petite?"
Rogue shot him a fierce look. "What th' hell's wrong with you, Cajun?"
"Scuse me?" Gambit was completely shocked. "I was jus' tryin' t'do somet'ing nice."
"And it IS nice! But why? Why d'ya always gotta do stuff fo' me?" Rogue was sobbing, and flailing her hands in wild motions as she spoke.
"I...I... I don't know?" he offered. Rogue let out a huff of frustration and put both hands over her face. Remy was now completely confused. He knew that Rogue was often prone to sudden mood swings, but this was completely beyond him. "Chere, Gambit's sorry, but he don' understand."
"No, Ah'm sorry, sugah, AH don't understand." Rogue looked up into his face. "Ah don't understand how ya can be so good t'me. Ya do all these sweet lil' things for me, like cuttin' th' dang crust off my bread, and ah ain't ev'n noticed 'til now!"
"It's not a big t'ing, chere. I jus' made you a sandwich."
"Yeah! Ya made ME a sandwich." Rogue stared at him as if she couldn't believe that he didn't understand. Remy was obviously even more lost. Sighing, Rogue expanded on the reason behind her outburst. "Somehow, ya figured out how I like mah coffee, and mah sandwich, and mah movies, and ev'rything else there is ta know about me. Ev'n what kind o' damn pop-tart ah prefer! Half th' time ah don't even know what ah like, but ya always do... and ya make sure ah always get it that way."
Gambit paused and looked into her eyes. Even puffy and red from crying, they were still so beautiful they could make his heart crack in two. "I love you, Rogue."
"Well, stop it!" she stood and walked to the bay windows. The lawns outside were brilliantly green against the gray of the rain.
Gambit moved to stand behind her. He rested his hands gently on her shoulders, and spoke softly into her ear, "I don' t'ink I can jus' stop somet'ing like dis."
"Ah don't deserve it, Remy. Ah've been pushin' ya as far away as possible since day one." She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for the strength to say the words. "Ah've never loved ya like ya love me. Ah've hurt ya so much. Ah can't stand that ya jus' forgive me time an' again. Ah can't stand mahself 'cause of it. Ah need ya ta hate me, Remy. That's the only way ah can live with it."
Remy turned her to face him. He gripped both of her shoulders and followed her face until she was forced to look at him. She saw the hurt look in his eyes, the concern for her, that ever forgiving grace that she could no longer endure. "Remy, please don't...."
"Quiet, girl. You not be so tough as you act. Let's not pretend dat Remy be a saint here. You know very well de sins I've committed, jus' as well as I know yours. An' ah still love you, chere. I never stopped. Never." He brought a gloved hand to her chin to once again bring her eyes to his. "You're de best t'ing dis lousy t'ief ever had. For a long time I t'ought dat I could get your love de way I got everyt'ing else: by lying, and cheatin', and stealin'... An' when I knew dat it couldn't happen dat way, I learned dat if I wanted to be wit' someone like you, I was gonna have ta be a better man." He released his hold on her arms. "Dat's what I been tryin' ta do, ever since de day I laid eyes on ya, chere: I been tryin' to be worthy enough for ya... Now, how can you jus' ask me ta stop?"
Rogue stood frozen. Her breath came short, and tears rolled unchallenged across her cheeks. All that time she had thought that they were bad for each other. She had believed that only pain and mistrust could come from their coupling. Now, in his face, she found how much they needed each other. She had made him want to be the kind of person she'd known he was all along, and in the process he'd taught her how to love someone the way he always knew she could.
She fell into his arms, a quiet cry escaping her throat. He stiffened, a little bit more than surprised, seeing as he couldn't remember more than a few times she'd initiated any physical contact between them. As she wrapped one arm tightly around his waist, and tangled the other in his hair, he relaxed. He held her as close as he could, as if he wanted to melt into her. In a way he already had. He found himself completely lost in the embrace. "Love ya so much, chere," he whispered.
Rogue pulled away slightly, just enough so she could look in his eyes. She'd never felt safer in her life. Ironic that she should feel this way caught up in the emotions she feared so much. He was here. The man she loved more than she ever dared dream was possible, was here in her arms. He needed her. He loved her. She leaned closer to him, and closed her eyes, unafraid...
"You, STUPID Popsicle!!" Jubilee's shrill yell, and the bang of the door, caused Rogue's eyes to snap open. She pulled away from Remy's grasp just as the young girl stomped into the common room.
Bobby was trailing on her heels. A fraudulent look of remorse unsuccessfully attempted to mask a satisfied grin. "Aww, Jubes, I'm sorry... I swear, I thought you LIKED your food spicy!"
"Can it, Snowball! I'm not talking to you."
Gambit was more than a little annoyed at the abrupt intrusion. "What did de as*hole do now, petite?"
"Hey!" protested Bobby.
"Shut up, Frosty," commanded Gambit. Bobby thought of a comeback that described how (blanks) like LeBeau would be out of a job without as*holes like himself, but he decided it would earn him a black-eye, so he kept it to himself.
Jean walked in, frowning at the rude joke Bobby was thinking about. "Bobby put more than a little Tabasco in Jubilee's lunch," she explained.
The victim sat pouting on one of the couches. "I offered you a glass of water!" insisted Bobby.
"Yeah! That was frozen solid!" she spat back. "And then all the damn waiters came over and started singing 'Happy Birthday', and Wolvie and Betsy are apologizing for forgetting, and I'm trying to tell them it's not my birthday, but my mouth's on fire and I can't even talk!" Jubilee began crying, and whined, "I never should have come back here! I swear this is the last visit I ever make! I've never been that embarrassed, Bobby!" She put in a final, dramatic sob, and added, "And my tongue STILL hurts!"
Bobby merely shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's easy to solve. Just hold still, Firecracker. I'll cool you off."
"Noooo!!" shrieked Jubilee.
"Dat's it, Bobby!" yelled Gambit over Jubilee's wailing. "I suggest you start running. Now!"
Not needing further prompting, the offending Iceman took off like a lightening bolt with Gambit not far behind. Wolverine burst into the room shortly after. Apparently he'd finally realized what had happened at the restaurant. He took one look at the sobbing girl and turned to Rogue. "Which way?" he growled. Rogue pointed in the direction the two men had fled. "You better hope ol' Gumbo kills ya before I find ya, Cube!" he roared, as he tore off down the hall.
Rogue rolled her eyes at Jean, who gave her a knowing look. "Come on, sugah," she sighed, placing a hand on Jubilee's hair. "We'll get ya some milk an' bread from th' ki'chen. It'll help th' sting."
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"Logan?"
"Yeah, darlin'?" he grumbled hungrily against her neck.
"Perhaps this is not the best of locations for... well..."
"Meybe not." He tightened his arm around the small of her back. She felt the slight abrasion of his stubble as his mouth trailed across her face and back to her lips.
"Logan...I'm serious."
"Mmmhmm," he agreed, making no attempt to slow his pace. With his free hand he unzipped the back of her dress, and ran his fingertips down her now bare spine. She shuddered slightly under his touch. "Only problem is I don't think I have much control here, darlin'. So..." He lifted her easily up onto the counter, "if you don't want me t'do this... you're gonna hav'ta stop me."
"But a few of the others are still awake."
"And?"
"And what if one of them..." she had to pause as she drew a quick breath, "what if they saw us?"
"So?"
"So I'd like to keep our private business, from becoming public gossip."
"Then why don't you jus' tell me ta stop?" He kissed her before she had time to respond. Her mouth was soft and eager. * She's giving in,* he smiled to himself.
"Logan!?" gasped Rogue, as she walked into the kitchen. "Storm?"
They both jumped at the sound of her voice. Ororo quickly zipped up the back of her dress. The three were awkwardly silent for what seemed like an eternity. Rogue stood frozen, she was sure she'd stopped blinking. Ororo could only stare down at her feet. "Evenin', Rogue," Wolverine finally offered.
"Um..." Rogue struggled for something to say. "Y'all have a good time at the concert?"
Storm paused for a moment and eventually began to laugh. It was silent at first. Her body only shook, but at last the musical sound of her voice was audible. The uneasiness was broken, and soon Rogue and Logan couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Rogue, would it be too much to ask you to keep this between us three for now?"
"Keep what 'tween us? I didn't see nothin'," she cooed in that famous syrupy voice. She looked back over her shoulder as she left the room. "G'night y'all."
When she'd left, Storm turned to a slightly red Logan. "I told you so," she smiled.
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Author's Note: Gotta love a Canadian.
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