Chaos:  I'm glad you'll live.  Otherwise, I would feel pretty guilty about killing you.

Blix:  Of course!  I couldn't write it if there weren't going to be plenty of conflicts and tension.  Lol.

Snoob:  It was a hard decision, but killing Bobby was a must.  shakes head sadly

Pineapple1:  Do you mind if I abbreviate your name to Pine?  Anyway, thank you so much for reading my stories.  And go ahead and read what I wrote to Snoob because it applies to you, too.

Anonymous:  Thank you so much.  And I don't plan on leaving it hanging because I hate it when authors do that, too.

WantingDreams:  I'm glad you were able to bypass the technical difficulties.  And I'm glad that you even bothered to keep trying.  Thank you so much for both reviews.

Hippie-Banana:  Trust me, I plan for M/L too go at it a few more times.  Lol.  I just love tension.  I feed off of it everyday.

Angel:  Believe you me I am a Rogue/Wolverine fanatic.  If they don't get together, then they won't be getting together with anyone.

Chapter Six

Conflictions

The night air was at the perfect amount of chillness, clearing the mind of the day's torrent events, but not brisk enough to wear anything thicker than a sweater.  Marie was huddled on a patio chair, curled up with her feet planted firmly on the seat.  She had spent the morning going over mental exercises with Xavier; the afternoon brought her slaving in the courtyard running laps; and the evening was filled with tedious lessons with Scott over the fundamentals of mechanics.

Tomorrow she began her martial arts training with Wolverine.

Marie groaned at the depressing thought of spending hours with that brute of a man, having to follow his orders without complaint.  The X-man hated her and she knew his dislike would only mean bruised flesh, sore muscles, and sprained bones.  He wasn't going to go easy on her.

"Mm, le bon soir, ma chere," the Cajun spoke with his usual air of charm as he sauntered toward her, his red-black eyes playful.

"Do I even want to know what you said," Marie sighed, irritated with his ruthless toying.  It had been somewhat flattering at first, but in the short three days that she'd been at the school, she'd quickly come to learn that Gambit was a hopeless flirter with all the females over the age of seventeen.

"Gambit said 'good evening, my dear one'.  All in good taste, non?"

"Sure.  Whatever."

"Chere feeling triste tonight?"

Marie growled in her throat.  "Remy, how many times must I tell you that I don't know French or Cajun or whatever the hell you speak."

Gambit grinned his natural charismatic, debonair grin.  "Gambit asked if you were feeling down…blue…sad…Now Gambit knows you are just grouchy ce soir – sorry, Gambit meant this evening."

"Remy," she sighed.  "Don't you have someone else to chase after tonight?  I swear I saw Jubilee, Kitty, and Storm in the library earlier."

"Storm is off the market."

"What?  With whom?"

"Kurt Wagner.  You know, Knightcrawler."

"I haven't met him, yet.  What's his curse?"

"Curse?  Chere, our powers are no curses.  They are gifts."

"Whatever.  What's his?"

"Transporter."

Marie nodded, murmuring an "mmm".  "So, where has this Knightcrawler been?"

"Germany.  Doing some – er – spiritual journey?"

Marie shrugged, not truly caring about the mysterious man she had yet to meet.  It was hard to be interested in someone's life when you haven't ever even seen him or her.

"Oh, Gambit's got to go.  Forgot I had a date.  Catch you later, chere."

Marie welcomed the peace.  She had nothing personal over the Cajun, but at the moment she wanted to bask in the stillness that only solitude could offer.  She needed time to sort through her life.  Did she really want to stay here and train to be an X-man?  Was chasing bad guys really more glamorous than the position she had working for Stryker?

That's buried in the dust now, she reminded herself.  I can't go back to that life.  And if I leave here then I may not have a life at allDamn Wolverine for coming for me.

Marie extracted herself from her weaved seat, wincing as she stretched; the rippling of cracking joints reminded her that she had sat prone too long in the cramped chair.

She made her way slowly to the kitchen, thankful that the students were in their dorms for the night.  Most likely more than the majority was still awake, gossiping in hushed whispers.  Yet, as long as they stayed tucked away in their rooms then she didn't care if they were throwing wild parties.

Marie bristled when she stepped into the well-lit kitchen, her emerald eyes falling on the man sitting once again at the island, slouched over a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream.  "Don't you ever sleep," she inquired, annoyance seeping into her tone.

"I could ask the same of you," Logan replied sarcastically, digging into his midnight snack.

Marie made an angry show of getting her own ice cream.  When finished, she slammed the ceramic bowl onto the counter, the spoon flying out of the bowl and clattering loudly against the blue tiles.  She flopped onto the stool opposite of him determined not be deterred.  She'd eat her ice cream wherever the hell she damned pleased.

They ate in stony silence; every once in awhile, one or the other would venture a glare towards the other.

Finally, Logan finished and got up.  Placing his dishes into the dishwater, he demanded: "Six thirty in the gym.  Don't be late."  Then he marched out of the room, unfazed by the daggers her eyes hurled into the back of his head.

End Chapter Six