Author's Note**
Rahne and Jubilee won't ever being showing up because their parents yanked them out of the Institute early off in the season. Now they're living the good life in the beautiful San Fernando Valley. As for the others, their lives were tragically cut short when a Twinkie truck crashed into their school bus. Kidding. They'll be around.
"Do we know anything about this guy Mesmero's lookin' fer Mr. McCoy?"
Hank looked from the computer screen and glanced over at the Southern Belle who sat in front of another monitor just a few feet from him. At the moment she was squinting at her screen and rubbing the side of her temple. She had announced that morning that her headache "was all but gone." He had been less than certain but since she had threatened to suck the very life force out of him if he didn't let her out of that hospital bed, he had acquiesced. Now she and Wanda were helping him search through archives of history. Or at least Rogue was. Wanda was busy staring out the windows at something. Well, it certainly was a step up from her going around killing people.
"Not very much Rogue," he replied, watching columns of information scroll down the screen. "From the information Mastermind was able to gather it is a substantially powerful and, suggesting from the age of the "keys" Mesmero has hunted down, ancient mutant. Mesmero seemed to refer to it as Apocalypse."
Rogue rolled her green eyes and sunk down further in her chair. "Very biblical. Ya sup'ose he's got himself four horseman locked up with 'em?" The information in front of her was slightly blurred. Okay, so she hadn't been completely honest with Mr. McCoy that morning. Her head still throbbed like a bitch, but she just couldn't take any more of lying around doing nothing. Plus she wanted to be ready in case that Cajun came around again. She didn't think he would; he hadn't looked stupid after all. But then again, Kitty didn't look stupid either and Rogue had tried to explain to the younger girl a hundred times that the people weren't actually inside the television.
Hank chuckled softly and pushed his glasses further up his nose so he could read a passage on his screen.
"I suppose anything's possible. Mastermind also said that he saw pictures of a cave with a number of ancient relics in it. The kind one would imagine finding in Greece or Rome, or some other pre-A.D civilization," he continued, unconsciously slipping into his lecture tone.
"Well great. That narrows it down a bit. There can't be more'n fifty billion caves like that in the world."
"It's just going to take a little patience and a little bit of determination,' Hank said.
Folding her arms in front of her chest, Rogue blew her white bangs out of her face. "Mah two strong suits." Scowling slightly, she spun around in her chair and glanced at Wanda who stood in front of the windows with her back to them both.
"Hey Wanda, how 'bout puttin' yer psychotic episode on hold and helpin' us out here?" Rogue wasn't particularly worried about pissing Wanda off. She was never particularly worried about pissing anyone off.
But Wanda didn't have the opportunity to be angered by the statement. She simply hadn't heard it. Something much stronger and much louder than Rogue's voice currently held her ear. It had started off so softly, so quietly that she had barely been able to hear it. That's when she had gotten up and gone over to the window. The closer she had gotten, the clearer the voice had become.
Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. I've something important to tell you.
So tell me, she thought, staring out at the lawn without seeing any of it.
I can't. Not now. Not here.
Then when? And where?
Tonight. In the woods. I will find you.
How will I know you? she wanted to know. Something like quiet laughter sounded in her brain.
You will know me. Then the voice was gone and it was replaced by the vaguely annoyed Rogue.
"Wanda? Do ya do this intentionally to freak people out?"
Frowning, Wanda turned and faced her auburn haired partner. "Do I do what intentionally?" she asked.
Rogue waved her hand through the air absently. "Go off inta weird trances," she clarified.
Pursing her lips, Wanda considered the question for a moment. "Yes, sometimes," she responded finally. "It makes Pietro cry like a scared little school girl. Therefore it's a large part of my personal amusement."
For a minute or two Rogue studied Wanda silently, her face a visage of thought. Then she said what was on her mind. "Ya know what Wanda? If ya weren't all . . . well, insane and Ah hadn't been emotionally scarred by mah bitch of an adoptive mother, we could probably be friends."
It was at that moment that the dashing Cajun known as Gambit made his entrance. He'd been on his way to the front foyer to meet Madame Storm when he passed the room and noticed his green eyed belle was up and about. With his steel Bo in one hand and his favorite easy going grin on his handsome face, he sauntered into the room to work his magic once more. When Rogue turned her chair around and saw him, he dipped into a low bow.
"Where y'at dis fine mornin', cherie?" The traditional New Orleans greeting made her want to smile but she clamped down on the urge. Instead she rolled her eyes and resisted beating her head on her keyboard, another urge. Casting her gaze up towards the ceiling, she asked,
"Why God? Why me? Haven't Ah suffered enough?" Then she brought her eyes back down and glared at him. "What do ya want, swamp rat?"
Despite her decidedly unfriendly tone, Gambit's grin never faltered and he pressed a hand to his chest, right above his heart. "Why cherie, de way ya talk jus' makes Gambit's heart go pity-pat, oui." When she continued to glare at him, he pressed his luck like a man jumping off a plane into an active volcano. "Gambit jus' come by ta see 'bout a goodbye kiss fer good luck?"
The heat in her eyes lasted several moments longer and then abruptly her expression changed and she smiled warmly.
"Why, shore thing, Cajun. You jus' come right over here and get it," she invited sweetly, batting her eyelashes. At his computer, Hank sighed and waited to see what the young man would do. Looking well pleased with himself, and completely unaware of the danger he was walking into, Gambit started forward. He didn't catch the devious gleam in Rogue's eyes. Just as he began to his head down, there came an announcement over the mansion's intercom system.
"Gambit, please report to the front foyer immediately."
Gambit said something short and curt in French and straightened. Rogue lifted an eyebrow. "Ya kiss yer mama with that mouth, sugah?"
He was halfway to the door when she spoke and when he turned around, his red eyes were curious. "De cherie speaks French, non?"
"There ain't no other language, is there?"
His grin was quick. "Non, belle 'dere shore ain't."
Once he had left, Hank turned to Rogue and shook his head. "Rogue, you remember what the Professor said."
Rogue glanced over at him and frowned. "What? Ah was jus' bein' friendly," she retorted.
"I wouldn't call knocking someone unconscious a friendly act."
She shrugged. "How do ya know? He might like it. Looks like the type anyway."