Authors note: Hello again! Thank you to everybody who has been reviewing - I always love reading your opinions. Shadow Knight - hey! I'm glad that your liking the fic. Just to answer your questions: Ororo/Charles? Hm, maybe, but I don't think I'll be making a big thing out of it. As far as this fic is concerned, they're just very close friends. Then again, I might change my mind later on. Who knows? Please don't worry though, I'm not going to make Kurt and Rogue romantically linked long term. If I write Kurt/Rogue, its because I'm too lazy to write the AND. Hope that answered your questions. :-)



The drive back to the Institute was a silent one.

Kurt stared intently at the darkened road. He hadn't said a word since they had left Burger King and Rogue knew better than to try and make small talk. She sat back in her seat and looked dully out of the window. The night was pitch black, the vaulted sky shining with stars. A creamy white moon sailed above them, impossibly bright against the void-like gloom.

She sighed and played distractedly with a strand of white hair, casting her friend a sidelong glance as she did so. His eyes were distant, clouded with some inner pain she couldn't even begin to fathom.

She wished that she knew what to say to make him feel better.

Kurt stirred suddenly, as if coming out of a heavy sleep. "We'll be back at the Institute soon" he said quietly, eyes fixed ahead.

The girl nodded mutely and turned back to the window. The darkness seamed to stretch out forever.

The X Van made its way out of Bayville and onto the beach road. The wind had picked up since they had left the cinema, and the waves were crashing over the inky sands.

"It's a real pretty night," she observed thoughtfully after a moment.

Kurt continued to stare doggedly out of the windscreen, remote and dispassionate. "It's freezing out there," he muttered.

Rogue sighed. The Brotherhood were a bunch of jerks, and Kurt was an easy target. She didn't care what they said about her - she'd heard it all before - but she hated seeing her friend hurt by their petty taunts. In a way, she felt responsible for him. There was a strange need inside of her, a will to protect him. She wouldn't have been able to explain it to anyone else - she could barely understand it herself -but it was there.

That was why it pained her so much now, seeing Kurt withdrawing from her and not being able to help him. They had been getting closer over the past few---what? Days? Weeks? Months? Rogue didn't know. Her feelings for him had been growing so slowly that by the time she had fully realised it, they had grown beyond mere team-mates.

They were friends.

And God knows why. She hadn't exactly encouraged him. As far as she had been concerned, the less that she had to do with the X Geeks, the better. She might wear the uniform, and fight the Danger Room sessions, but she hadn't been an X Man. Not really.

And then there was Kurt.

Lovable, goofy, party-nuts Kurt.

On the outside, they couldn't have been more different. But he was the one who had made her feel included ----- wanted. And not through some big gesture, or some meaningful talk about team spirit, but by just being there for her when she wanted to hang. She appreciated that he hadn't given up on her.

Rogue pursed her dark lips and dug her chin deeper into the lavender scarf around her neck. He was right; the night had turned cold, and the X Van wasn't much warmer than it was outside. Rogue grimaced and wrapped her arms tightly around her, suddenly wishing that she had thought twice about her choice of clothes for the evening. A strapless black top and a slitted skirt might look great, but they didn't offer much in the way of protection against the elements. The cold night air was whistling in through a minute gap in the door, and clammy tremors ran over her white skin. She shivered.

Kurt frowned, not taking his eyes from the road. "Cold?"

The girl shook her head. "No."

"Liar. I told you that you should have brought a coat." Taking the wheel with one foot, he expertly guided the X Van with his elongated toes, twisting his body to hunt on the backseat for his discarded jacket. He passed it to her. "Listen to Uncle Kurt next time."

Rogue paused before smiling gratefully. "Thanks," she murmured, slipping her arms into the coat. Its warm material was a welcome relief from the chill night air, the cottony lining soft against her bare skin. She shifted comfortably. "This is real nice."

Kurt nodded. "Consider it yours." She opened her mouth to refuse but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "My mother buys me one every winter. I've got about four back at the Institute - trust me, you'd be doing me a favour."

She looked at him fondly. "Thanks."

He shrugged it off. "It looks better on you anyway."

Rogue snuggled deeper into the woollen jacket. It was a little long for her, but she didn't care. She pulled the soft collar up against her jaw, inhaling deeply. The material still bore the faint scent of brimstone. Strangely, she had begun to like that smell.

"Rogue?" he said quietly after a moment.

"Yeah Kurt?"

He paused, thinking. "What the brotherhood said back there ---- they were right, you know."

She turned to look at him, pursing her lips together. "Kurt, you're not a freak."

"Yes. I am. But I can deal with it." He tapped his fingers listlessly on the side of the steering wheel. "Anyway, that wasn't quite what I meant."

She frowned, confused. "Well, what are you talking about then?"

Kurt gave a small smile and sighed.

"You really do look good tonight," he murmured simply.

Rogue glanced over to him, surprised by the sentiment. He was still staring doggedly out at the road, not turning to look at her, but he reached out a hand on let it rest on her folded forearm. She looked down. Even through the long gloves between them, she could feel the silky bristle of his short fur. His hand felt strange and alien, but like him, it had an outlandish appeal all of its own.

She hesitantly turned to look at him, their eyes meeting briefly. Suddenly, it didn't matter if Rogue was no good with words. When she was with Kurt, she didn't need them.

Kurt shifted, a little self-conscious. "I feel like we should sing come-by- ya or something," he joked quietly.

Rogue shrugged. "Only if you think it's absolutely necessary."

He shook his head, "No, not really." Sighing, he looked away awkwardly. "Thanks Rogue --- you know, for everything."

She smiled thoughtfully. "I guess that's what friends are for."

Then he turned back to the road, and lapsed back into silence. Time passed. Outside, the night grew colder, and the creamy moon rose higher in the west. The darkness was absolute, and to Rogue, looking out of the window, it seemed as though she and Kurt were the only two people on earth. The thought, strangely, didn't bother her. She simply shifted in her seat, content in the warm van interior.

In a few minutes, they would be back in the Institute, and Kurt would have to leave her. He was a popular member of the team, and there was always someone tagging along with him. Evan, Scott, Kitty --- it never ended. Sometimes she found herself resenting them for taking up so much of his time. But not now. Just for now, they were alone together. She savoured the feeling, knowing that it would be short lived, but content to let it be so.

Love was funny like that sometimes.

Silently, the car drove on through the night.







Days passed.

Mystique had little use for time. She had lived a long life - far longer than her outward appearance would suggest - and the passage of time had little affect on her. She didn't dwell on the past. It accomplished nothing.

Despite this, she now found herself staring at the clock on her bedroom wall. It was well past midnight now, making it a week since she had made her visit to the Xavier Institute. Her pale eyes closed as she remembered her conversation with Charles. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. Why had she bothered to tell Charles about her connections with the children? She wasn't fully aware of the answer herself. Perhaps a part of her wanted Rogue and Kurt to know----wanted Charles to tell them. But that wasn't going to happen. During her meeting with Xavier, it had become increasingly obvious to her that he had no intention of telling them what she had said. But then, had she ever really expected him to?

She rose from where she had been seated at the desk and walked towards the open window. Staring meditatively out at the ancient starlight, a summer night's breeze ran over her, making her red hair flame behind her like wildfire. Sighing distractedly, she looked down at the paper that she held. It was a letter. She had finished it only minutes before, and it had taken her all night. Not that it was a long letter - but she had wanted it to sound just right.

Mystique turned the envelope over in her azure hands. For sixteen years, she had been forced to live in silence. Magneto had seen to that. But now she was free of his orders. She could do what ever she wanted. The brotherhood were hers again to command at will, and Xavier's X Men could not stand up to them. After years of serving as Magneto's lapdog, she had finally won power of her own, and she had every intention of using it. Things were going to change in her favour, she would see to that.

A slow smile played on her mouth as she read the address she had written --- -

Kurt Wagner. The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Bayville. New York.

Tapping the letter against her thigh, she walked from the room.