This Chapter is in total dedication to MizzMarvel and Randi M. Kosiewska-Short, who e-mailed, reviewed and talked to me on-line. Thanks guys.

And now what you've all been waiting for: The Gift.

Pietro was set. He had the gloves made of Forge's fabric and the speech and course of action he would take set out in his mind.

Now all he needed was to find Rogue.

He zoomed around the house. In a matter of seconds, his search found nothing. This led him to only one possible conclusion.

Rogue was not in the house.

This deduction sent Pietro's search outdoors. Around the pool and though the massive yard gave Pietro a recurring feeling of failure. However, being Pietro Maximoff, meant not giving up.

Especially to matters of Rogue.

This left her in one of two places, the sky, or the garage. He opted for the easier of the two to look for her. Luckily for him, she was in the garage, working on her "precious baby". The motorcycle Logan had bought her for her eighteenth birthday.

He would admit, though never aloud, that it was an amazing machine. Nothing like the Harleys Wolverine rode. This was a sleek black Ninja, with twin white and sliver lightning bolts on both side. The bolts were Rogue's doing.

Her back was to him, but he knew that she'd felt his presence. He leaned against the door frame, and watched her for a moment, "You know I never got the propose of that thing."

She stood, still not facing him, and tilted her head just the slightest degree down and toward him. To any one else she had not moved, aside from standing, and was not listening. But Pietro was not just any one, and he'd be the first to tell you that.

"I mean you can fly." he walked behind her as he talked. He wrapped his hands around her waist, "You can run," and lightly placed his chin on her shoulder, her long hair creating a shield. Despite this being a common position between the two, Rogue still flinched slightly under his touch. He taught himself the ignore it, and continued to purr in her ear, "with me."

"Ah know," she whispered turning to face him, "but that's funner." She jolted her thumb backward over toward the bike. With her other hand she tapped his nose gently, leaving behind an oil spot.

She pulled away teasingly, and he wiped the oil away with the rag she threw at him.

"More fun," he corrected.

"Look if ya'll just came here to correct mah English, Ah already got Kitty and Scott just upstairs. Or if ya came down here ta commend mah bike, Ah got Ororo and Bobby jus down the hall. Hell, even Lance gets freaked when Ah don't wear a helmet. So unless ya have a special reason ta be down here, Ah ask that ya run your cute little butt away."

"Isn't me being here special enough?"

She rolled her eyes and pulled her oily gloves off, just before she could reach for her other pair, Pietro was in front of her.

"Actually I do have a reason for being here." He pulled a small rectangular box from his back pocket.

She raised a skeptical eye at him.

He ginned and winked, "happy birthday," he stated handing it to her. "I know it's not technically your birthday, but I did miss ten of them. I think this makes up for it though."

"Un-huh." She opened the box. "Wow, Pietro, gloves."

His grinned widened, "Special gloves."

"Fingerless gloves," she realized pulling them from the box.

"Special gloves," he insisted.

"Pietro you know why Ah wear gloves, having, let alone wearing, fingerless gloves would kind of deter that point, don't ya think?"

He shook his head, "special gloves."

She groaned and threw her hands up. "Pietro…"

"Spec…"

"Do you want me ta try 'em on? Will that shut you up?"

He nodded, "Spec…"

"Pietro."

She put the gloves on and they fit perfectly.

"Happy now?" but Pietro wasn't listening; he gently grabbed her normally covered wrists.

"Rogue."

She looked at him questioningly; he nodded his head down and her eyes followed. He flipped his hands over, revealing them tenderly holding her wrists.

Her bare wrists.

"How?"

He grinned, "special gloves."

"Oh."

Then he kissed her.