Disclaimer, etc. in prologue.

Chapter 5

Kitty had given up trying to concentrate on her homework about an hour ago. She was now sprawled across her bed, staring at the ceiling while Shania Twain, rejoicing about feeling like a woman, blared through her headphones.

She was, as she'd been doing for the majority of the afternoon, thinking about Lance. He really was cute. Or maybe hot was more like it. Those dark eyes, that silky hair—her hand twitched at the remembered sensation of the soft strands slipping through her fingers—and she just knew he had a killer bod under his black T-shirt and ripped jeans.

Kitty idly wondered how he would look without any clothes.

She let out a shuddering sigh as her mind went from idle wondering to avid fantasizing.

The sigh turned into a shriek as her roommate unceremoniously flopped down beside her on the bed.

Kitty scrambled to sit up as she ripped her headphones off. "God, Rogue! You almost gave me, like, a heart attack!"

The girl that everyone at the mansion—including Professor Xavier—only knew as Rogue, turned on her side and propped her head on one gloved hand. "It's your own fault," she said, a trace of the South coloring her words. "I called you, like, five times."

"Sorry. I was…busy. Thinking." Kitty turned away with the pretense that she was shutting off her discman. She hoped Rogue hadn't seen the blush rising to her cheeks. She, of course, wasn't that lucky.

"Uh-huh. Busy thinkin'." Kitty could practically hear the smirk in the other girl's voice. "So, who were you busy thinkin' about? Or should I ask, who were you thinkin' about gettin' busy with?"

"Nobody! I wasn't thinking about anybody!" Kitty was certain her face was bright red at this point.

The touch-me-not mutant snorted. "Yeah. Sure. With a sigh like that? Tell me another one."

"A sigh like what?" Kitty was almost afraid to ask.

"Like this." Rogue lay on her back, closed her eyes, and did a surprisingly accurate imitation of Kitty. Her brief performance done, she flicked a mischievous glance at the other girl. "That is the sigh of someone who remembers the taste of their absolute favorite dessert and can't wait to have some more."

"I so did not sigh like that!"

Rogue smirked. "Yeah, ya did." Her smirk widened into a grin. "You were thinkin' dirty thoughts about someone!"

"No way!" Please, God, let me die now!

Rogue sat up quickly, realization dawning on her face. "It was that boy at lunch, wasn't it?"

Kitty blinked as her brain stalled. Oh, no. Nonononono…"Boy?"

The other girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, boy! Y'know, the one who was kissin' you like he wanted to eat you alive."

"You saw that?!" Kitty shrieked.

Rogue winced. "Damn, girl! Bring it down a decibel or five! Yeah, I saw. And so did everyone else with eyes. He practically had you across the table!"

This just keeps getting better and better. "Jean didn't see, did she?" Because, boy, would that make my day, like, so much better!

"Nah. She was inside eatin' with Duncan." Kitty heard the distaste in Rogue's voice and felt a little better. Their mutual dislike of the redheaded telepath had been one of the few things the roommates had in common.

"Well, at least I won't have to hear anything from her," she muttered with more than a twinge of relief.

"So who is he?" Rogue asked, bringing them back to the original subject. "He was total eye-candy."

Uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed, Kitty took her time in answering. Then, releasing a pent up breath, she decided to tell the Southern girl about her history with Lance. Despite their differences, she actually liked Rogue and knew she wouldn't go blabbering to Jean about anything she told her.

After explaining the circumstances between herself and Lance,—with the omission of their deal, of course— Kitty finished by saying a bit too casually, "But he's not, like, my boyfriend or anything."

"But you wish he was, don't you?"

"I—uh, I mean—that is—"

"Which is weird," Rogue continued as if Kitty hadn't said anything. "Because he doesn't exactly look like he would be your definition of Mr. Right. And, no offense, but you don't exactly look the part of a ripped-jeans-wearin', trouble-makin' bad boy's honey, either."

Frowning, Kitty thought over the girl's words. Suddenly, her face cleared and she turned to Rogue, her expression eager. "How would I look the part?"

End Chapter 5.