The Russian is the boy who had so gently carried her from a metal sphere several days before. When he walks into the kitchen, he halts for a moment, apparently not expecting anyone to be there, and stares at Rogue and St. John placidly. His gaze lingers on her for a few seconds longer than comfortable before making his way to one of the wooden cabinets. He opens it, and pulls out a box of Cheerios.
"Funny guy," St. John continues, still watching his food cook. "He eats cereal for every meal. You'd think a guy his size'd need more calories." The microwave dings. "Ah, dinner!" He eagerly pulls out the tray.
"What's his real name?" Rogue asks, trying not to watch him as he poured his cereal into a bowl.
"Magneto calls him Colossus." At the sound of his codename, the Russian looks up at the two, puzzled and waiting. St. John shakes his head apologetically and adds, "It's nothin', mate. Sorry." He shrugs. The Russian nods slowly, and heads for the refrigerator for milk.
"But what's his name? His real name, ah mean?"
"I dunno."
She frowns. "Ya 'dunno'? He's yer teammate an' ya don't even know his name?"
He sighs. "He doesn't speak ENGLISH. The only one of us who can talk to him is Magneto, an' even he's limited to basic commands. 'Sides, the Russian keeps to 'imself. He hasn't volunteered any info, y'know?"
"Ah can't believe that," Rogue says, watching the bigger boy pour milk into his bowl. "He musta tried ta say SUMTHIN' 'bout himself." He returns the carton to its place.
"Well..." St. John answers, mirth entering his voice again. "I've been talkin' to YOU for a while now, an' I don't even know YOUR name."
Her face reddens, and without her usual mask of pale foundation, she knows it's obvious.
"Ah'm Rogue."
"All right, then, Rogue. You didn't even realize you hadn't told me, didja? Well, maybe neither does he. Only I can't ever so gently point that out to 'im like I did to you."
The Russian, with his bowl of Cheerios, leaves the kitchen as silently as he'd entered it, uninterested in whatever they might be saying.
"He's got a good idea," St. John goes on. "Let's eat these things before they congeal into a glob of fat an' water." He holds his tray of microwaved Salisbury steak, and raises an eyebrow. "Comin'? Everyone usually eats in the quote-unquote 'dinin' room'."
She picks up her own tray. "Ah guess so." What else can she do, after all?
He walks out of the kitchen. She follows.
***
The dining room, as it is called, is essentially a room with a big oak table and some chairs. Nothing fancy and no frills; it couldn't be any more different from the Mansion's dining room, with ornate carvings in the furniture and a chandelier dangling from the ceiling. When the two enter, it's already occupied - the Russian is eating his Cheerios dinner by himself at the far end of the table, and Evan, Fred, and another young man sitting and talking, the remnants of their meals pushed aside. The instant she sets foot inside, in fact, the new mystery boy stands up and addresses them:
"Who dis?" he asks playfully, a sly smile on his lips.
He's the one who, during the conflict, had handed her a playing card. He had surprised her, then dumbfounded her when he did not attack, handing her the King of Hearts with a silent smirk. All that, the combination of it with his mute charm, had transfixed her to the point that she barely realized in time that the card was going to explode in her grasp. The memory of it embarrasses her, and she has to will herself not to blush again.
St. John frowns slightly, but says, "This is Rogue. Rogue, this is, eh, Remy...Gambit." He emphasizes the codename, obviously trying to remind her of his earlier warning.
Remy's eyes narrow slightly, but his smile remains the same. "M' pleasure."
"Yeah," she replies dully.
He waves a hand in the direction of the table. "Sit."
So Rogue and St. John sit. Remy does the same.
"You feeling better, Rogue?" Evan asks, the first time she's heard him speak in a while. She's grateful for his familiar face, though he's different, still. His hair has begun to grow out of its fancy cut and golden dye, black at the roots. He's also wearing a collar like hers.
She nods. "A little." She pushes around the mashed potatoes on her tray with her fork.
"Well, petite, ya LOOKIN' fine." Remy's words have a taint of suggestiveness in their sympathy, but she decides to ignore it.
"Where's Mr. McCoy?" she asks Evan.
"Outside, but I don't know why. He already ate, I guess."
"Yeah, heh heh," Fred chimes in. "The force field thing already fried him once." Like, Evan his hair has grown out, now somewhat resembling a crew cut.
"We can go outside, though? We don't hafta ask?"
Remy shakes his head. "Naw. Ya jus' go."
Rogue stands up. "Ah'm goin' outside, then."
St. John looks up from his food. "Outside? But...jeez. I mean, I think you should eat. Y'know?"
"Hey, she a big girl, mon ami. She wanna go, she goes," the Cajun tells him, the grin still there, but eyes narrowed further, almost accusingly.
St. John rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
But Rogue's already gone.
***
The second she's out, Rogue takes a deep breath and outstretches her arms, relieved at the wide expanse of space and quiet. Mr. McCoy is nowhere in sight, but that doesn't matter. She really just wanted to get away from the sudden onslaught of human contact anyway.
The sky now only holds a few random spatterings of pink, and crescent moon shines peacefully down on the large yard outside the house. She turns slowly all the way around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. The house, it turns out, it a rather large one of Victorian style, in need of a paint job. She wonders why Magneto would choose such a place as his head quarters, then realizes that it's an excellent cover; after a castle in Europe and a huge metal dome in the Sahara, who'd suspect him to be in such a humble place? The yard itself consists of a somewhat shaggy lawn, some wild flowers here and there, and a few big trees. There's a scent in the air, a pleasant one, but she can't place it...
"That's the sea you smell," a voice from behind her confirms.
Rogue turns to see who it is, but she really doesn't have to. Pietro, so thin and obviously tired. Her Someone.
"If you were to walk up the hill," he continues, pointing off in a direction. "You'd see it a bit. It's pretty nice." He's silent for a moment, then goes on, watching her intently, "You're okay?"
She nods and fingers her collar self-consciously. "Yes."
"Good, 'cause when you...when I first saw you, you were kinda out of it." Pietro looks away. "I was worried."
She doesn't answer.
"I...I want you to know..." He shakes his head. "I should go. I only came out here for a quick break." And then he's off again.
Though he's going too fast to actually watch him, Rogue stares off in the direction he left.
Why, she thinks sadly. Why'd you set us up?
To be continued...
**Long Authors Note:
Thought I'd respond to some of the reviews...
Rio - Ha, thanks for the "shower." I really needed it.
Icy - I've never churned out material this fast before, but it's so far not as hard as I thought. Maybe it's because I'm pacing myself in the story, I dunno. Oh, and you (and probably Rio, too) should like what was being suggested in that last bit of the fic.
The Scribe - Scott, Lance, Kitty, and all the rest are probably at the remnants of the Mansion, dealing with the fact that the secret's out. I have no idea what they're doing, really. This fic is only going to deal with Magneto's new team, and those who were captured by Trask's forces.
LotusPen and Kitana - I think Pyro and Rogue would make a pretty good couple, too. His genuine sense of humor (at least the one I've given him) helps him deal with her attitude with a grain of salt - this is also possibly why Kurt and Rogue get along so well. However...not in this fic. I had several reasons for making him gay. For one, Rogue is in a house full of guys, and it was a way to immediately eliminate one romantic possibility. Two, I know what romance will eventually emerge, and I didn't want to be tempted astray. Three, the fact that she's without her powers is probably very scary to her, and it doesn't help that all these men are around...she needs someone she KNOWS doesn't have to worry about - at least THAT way. Kitana, sorry about the last bit, which has tinges of Rietro...
Randi - I think when I was IMing you, at one point I said something about finding a character I loved. St. John is it. I don't know why, but of all the characters, even the ones already completely established in the show, he is the most clearly defined in my mind. So I'm glad you like him, too! There'll be more interaction with the other characters, like Evan and Gambit, in the coming chapters. I myself am not exactly sure how they'll deal with each other. Oh, and Logan isn't here. I decided that'd be a little too much for me to handle.
Thanks to them and everyone else who responded to my plea for compliments - they really helped, and thus this is so far my favorite chapter. If you want more quality and fast, you'll keep 'em coming. ;) **
"Funny guy," St. John continues, still watching his food cook. "He eats cereal for every meal. You'd think a guy his size'd need more calories." The microwave dings. "Ah, dinner!" He eagerly pulls out the tray.
"What's his real name?" Rogue asks, trying not to watch him as he poured his cereal into a bowl.
"Magneto calls him Colossus." At the sound of his codename, the Russian looks up at the two, puzzled and waiting. St. John shakes his head apologetically and adds, "It's nothin', mate. Sorry." He shrugs. The Russian nods slowly, and heads for the refrigerator for milk.
"But what's his name? His real name, ah mean?"
"I dunno."
She frowns. "Ya 'dunno'? He's yer teammate an' ya don't even know his name?"
He sighs. "He doesn't speak ENGLISH. The only one of us who can talk to him is Magneto, an' even he's limited to basic commands. 'Sides, the Russian keeps to 'imself. He hasn't volunteered any info, y'know?"
"Ah can't believe that," Rogue says, watching the bigger boy pour milk into his bowl. "He musta tried ta say SUMTHIN' 'bout himself." He returns the carton to its place.
"Well..." St. John answers, mirth entering his voice again. "I've been talkin' to YOU for a while now, an' I don't even know YOUR name."
Her face reddens, and without her usual mask of pale foundation, she knows it's obvious.
"Ah'm Rogue."
"All right, then, Rogue. You didn't even realize you hadn't told me, didja? Well, maybe neither does he. Only I can't ever so gently point that out to 'im like I did to you."
The Russian, with his bowl of Cheerios, leaves the kitchen as silently as he'd entered it, uninterested in whatever they might be saying.
"He's got a good idea," St. John goes on. "Let's eat these things before they congeal into a glob of fat an' water." He holds his tray of microwaved Salisbury steak, and raises an eyebrow. "Comin'? Everyone usually eats in the quote-unquote 'dinin' room'."
She picks up her own tray. "Ah guess so." What else can she do, after all?
He walks out of the kitchen. She follows.
***
The dining room, as it is called, is essentially a room with a big oak table and some chairs. Nothing fancy and no frills; it couldn't be any more different from the Mansion's dining room, with ornate carvings in the furniture and a chandelier dangling from the ceiling. When the two enter, it's already occupied - the Russian is eating his Cheerios dinner by himself at the far end of the table, and Evan, Fred, and another young man sitting and talking, the remnants of their meals pushed aside. The instant she sets foot inside, in fact, the new mystery boy stands up and addresses them:
"Who dis?" he asks playfully, a sly smile on his lips.
He's the one who, during the conflict, had handed her a playing card. He had surprised her, then dumbfounded her when he did not attack, handing her the King of Hearts with a silent smirk. All that, the combination of it with his mute charm, had transfixed her to the point that she barely realized in time that the card was going to explode in her grasp. The memory of it embarrasses her, and she has to will herself not to blush again.
St. John frowns slightly, but says, "This is Rogue. Rogue, this is, eh, Remy...Gambit." He emphasizes the codename, obviously trying to remind her of his earlier warning.
Remy's eyes narrow slightly, but his smile remains the same. "M' pleasure."
"Yeah," she replies dully.
He waves a hand in the direction of the table. "Sit."
So Rogue and St. John sit. Remy does the same.
"You feeling better, Rogue?" Evan asks, the first time she's heard him speak in a while. She's grateful for his familiar face, though he's different, still. His hair has begun to grow out of its fancy cut and golden dye, black at the roots. He's also wearing a collar like hers.
She nods. "A little." She pushes around the mashed potatoes on her tray with her fork.
"Well, petite, ya LOOKIN' fine." Remy's words have a taint of suggestiveness in their sympathy, but she decides to ignore it.
"Where's Mr. McCoy?" she asks Evan.
"Outside, but I don't know why. He already ate, I guess."
"Yeah, heh heh," Fred chimes in. "The force field thing already fried him once." Like, Evan his hair has grown out, now somewhat resembling a crew cut.
"We can go outside, though? We don't hafta ask?"
Remy shakes his head. "Naw. Ya jus' go."
Rogue stands up. "Ah'm goin' outside, then."
St. John looks up from his food. "Outside? But...jeez. I mean, I think you should eat. Y'know?"
"Hey, she a big girl, mon ami. She wanna go, she goes," the Cajun tells him, the grin still there, but eyes narrowed further, almost accusingly.
St. John rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
But Rogue's already gone.
***
The second she's out, Rogue takes a deep breath and outstretches her arms, relieved at the wide expanse of space and quiet. Mr. McCoy is nowhere in sight, but that doesn't matter. She really just wanted to get away from the sudden onslaught of human contact anyway.
The sky now only holds a few random spatterings of pink, and crescent moon shines peacefully down on the large yard outside the house. She turns slowly all the way around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. The house, it turns out, it a rather large one of Victorian style, in need of a paint job. She wonders why Magneto would choose such a place as his head quarters, then realizes that it's an excellent cover; after a castle in Europe and a huge metal dome in the Sahara, who'd suspect him to be in such a humble place? The yard itself consists of a somewhat shaggy lawn, some wild flowers here and there, and a few big trees. There's a scent in the air, a pleasant one, but she can't place it...
"That's the sea you smell," a voice from behind her confirms.
Rogue turns to see who it is, but she really doesn't have to. Pietro, so thin and obviously tired. Her Someone.
"If you were to walk up the hill," he continues, pointing off in a direction. "You'd see it a bit. It's pretty nice." He's silent for a moment, then goes on, watching her intently, "You're okay?"
She nods and fingers her collar self-consciously. "Yes."
"Good, 'cause when you...when I first saw you, you were kinda out of it." Pietro looks away. "I was worried."
She doesn't answer.
"I...I want you to know..." He shakes his head. "I should go. I only came out here for a quick break." And then he's off again.
Though he's going too fast to actually watch him, Rogue stares off in the direction he left.
Why, she thinks sadly. Why'd you set us up?
To be continued...
**Long Authors Note:
Thought I'd respond to some of the reviews...
Rio - Ha, thanks for the "shower." I really needed it.
Icy - I've never churned out material this fast before, but it's so far not as hard as I thought. Maybe it's because I'm pacing myself in the story, I dunno. Oh, and you (and probably Rio, too) should like what was being suggested in that last bit of the fic.
The Scribe - Scott, Lance, Kitty, and all the rest are probably at the remnants of the Mansion, dealing with the fact that the secret's out. I have no idea what they're doing, really. This fic is only going to deal with Magneto's new team, and those who were captured by Trask's forces.
LotusPen and Kitana - I think Pyro and Rogue would make a pretty good couple, too. His genuine sense of humor (at least the one I've given him) helps him deal with her attitude with a grain of salt - this is also possibly why Kurt and Rogue get along so well. However...not in this fic. I had several reasons for making him gay. For one, Rogue is in a house full of guys, and it was a way to immediately eliminate one romantic possibility. Two, I know what romance will eventually emerge, and I didn't want to be tempted astray. Three, the fact that she's without her powers is probably very scary to her, and it doesn't help that all these men are around...she needs someone she KNOWS doesn't have to worry about - at least THAT way. Kitana, sorry about the last bit, which has tinges of Rietro...
Randi - I think when I was IMing you, at one point I said something about finding a character I loved. St. John is it. I don't know why, but of all the characters, even the ones already completely established in the show, he is the most clearly defined in my mind. So I'm glad you like him, too! There'll be more interaction with the other characters, like Evan and Gambit, in the coming chapters. I myself am not exactly sure how they'll deal with each other. Oh, and Logan isn't here. I decided that'd be a little too much for me to handle.
Thanks to them and everyone else who responded to my plea for compliments - they really helped, and thus this is so far my favorite chapter. If you want more quality and fast, you'll keep 'em coming. ;) **