"Welcome to our school, Mr. LeBeau."

This is a bad idea. "Gambit, if you don't mind," said "Mr. LeBeau." The deck of cards he held in one hand flashed with occasional bursts of energy that were then held in check. "Gambit or Remy. 'Mister' is considerably too formal for me."

"Well, Gambit," said Professor Xavier, "you have every right to be impatient, and with what you've told me of your life up until now, I'm not surprised that you're so…guarded. I hope in time you'll let us show you that there are still people in this world who can be trusted."

"That'd be you folk, I suppose?" said Gambit skeptically.

Professor Xavier smiled. "We do try," he said.

"Pardon me for not jumping up and down," said Gambit, "but I've heard this line before."

"Which is why we've asked you to stay for a while," said the professor. "Actions, after all, speak louder than words."

Gambit turned over the top card of the deck and looked down. Ace of spades. A good sign.

"All right," he said. "I'm in…for now."

"Excellent," said Professor Xavier, sounding as if he really meant it. "Now, how about the grand tour?"

The entire class turned as Professor Xavier and his guest entered, glad for the distraction from one of Cyclops' history lectures. Newcomers were always a cause of special interest…and sometimes a sign of impending doom. Whether it was one or both of the above, it was always good to keep tabs on these things.

The stranger's eyes flashed at Rogue, and she realized she had been staring. She forced herself to smile—she wasn't going to go all giggly now—before she turned back to her desk. Then she missed the next ten minutes of the lecture because she was mentally reciting her newly adopted mantra.

Alone and liking it. Alone and liking it. Alone and…. Ah, heck.

Gambit sat alone on a bench a good distance from the school, thinking about the tour. Or rather, thinking about the girl. He had vague memories of shiny metallic surfaces and a lot more advanced technology than your average private school would have access to, but the girl was the only part of the tour that stood out in his mind. He hadn't been able to think of a subtle way to bring her into the conversation ("So, Professor, the knockout in the history class…you wouldn't happen to know her name and relationship status, would you?"), so of course she hadn't come up. Realistically, he supposed that was for the best.

Realistically, no private school had its own jet, either.

He wasn't one for staying long in one place. His past had a way of catching up with him and chasing him off. But he supposed he'd be around long enough to figure out who she was, and to make it past the first wave of attraction he was riding. In the end, she was just another pretty girl, and Gambit had known a lot of pretty girls.

Of course. Since Rogue's life so rarely went the way she wanted it to go anymore, she should have expected that when she reached her special thinking place she'd find the exact person she was trying not to think about. He hadn't seen her yet; she had been on a walk around the grounds and had approached the bench from behind. She could still just turn around and walk away. It would probably be better all around if she just turned around and walked away. So why wasn't she moving? Maybe, she thought, I'm tired of backing off when things get messy.

"Hey, new boy," she called out. "You're in my spot."

The boy…the man, she corrected mentally…turned. For a moment, he stared at her as if she were the last thing he would have ever expected to see. Then he smiled broadly, his dark red eyes sparking again as they had in the classroom.

"A Southern belle, hein?" he said, half to himself. "I should've guessed." He patted the bench beside him invitingly. "Why don't you have a seat, chere?"

"Why don't you take a hike, new boy?" she said, strolling around to the front of the bench. "Didn't you hear me? You're in my thinking spot."

"Thinking about you, chere," he said.

"My name is Rogue, new boy."

"And mine's Gambit, Rogue."

"You're not gonna leave, are you?"

Gambit clasped his hands behind his head and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "The weather is fine, the seat is comfortable, the view is lovely, and the company is stimulating. I'm all right."

Rogue was trying to think of a good way to tell him off when she noticed she was sitting next to him. "I'll let it go," she said instead, "just this once."

"That's mighty big of you," he said. "Don't let me interrupt your thinking. I can sit quiet."

Rogue nodded in appreciation and leaned back, closing her eyes. Alone and liking it. She had been coming to this spot ever since she came to Xavier's school. She liked to put some distance between the school and herself from time to time, just enough that she could still feel a part of it. From here, she could still see students and teachers milling about outside, and on warmer days their voices floated out to her. From here, she could feel connected without feeling close. From here, she could hear his even breathing, could sense his warmth, could feel….

Her eyes flew open and she saw him staring at her. "I can't think with you looking at me like that," she blurted.

"I get that a lot," he said casually.

She glared at him by way of response.

"Fair enough," he said. "How do you want me to look at you?"

Rogue's temper flared. "Maybe I don't," she snapped.

The apparently imperturbable Gambit shrugged and stood up. "You make the call, chere. There are other women at the school, n'cest pas?"

"The name is Rogue!" she shouted after his retreating back. She folded her arms tightly and tried to focus on not thinking about Gambit, the worthless uncouth buffoon. She thought very hard about not thinking about Gambit for a long time, then remembered something she sincerely hoped he hadn't heard…that at one potentially critical point in what could laughingly be called their "conversation," she had used the word "maybe."