Author's Note: This chappy we get to meet up with Anna Raven. The rest of the X-Treme X-Men, minus Storm who's off doing her Arena thingy, show up. Their interactions are always fun. ^_^ Some Gambit/Rogue and Bishop/Tessa hinting. YAY!! How exciting. Also, we get some insight on the OC…

Disclaimer: I own a car. I just got it. Eeep. *dances around* And you can't have it. Off topic. Point? Don't own X-Men or Marvel. Sorry.

Quick Shout Outs:

Gambit's Rouge: Firstly, I can't believe somebody actually read my fic. *jaw drops* So, THANK YOU!! for reviewing. My hero. I'm glad you like it… *sighs in relief* That makes one. ^_^ I've actually written almost the entire fic and have a sequel planned, so obviously this is a labor of love. I thought for sure having an "OC" would mean NOBODY would read it. *shrugs* You proved me wrong. Like I said, my hero. :^D Thanks!!

Aro: Aw, thank you for reviewing. That's UBER sweet of ya. See what you mean about too many "luv"s so I cut some out. Nice catch. ^_^ Sammy's my boy… I had to write a fic that centered around him. I couldn't help myself. I completely understand the "M update-- REMY ON TOP!? *drool*" and I'm down with that. Thanks again!!

"talking" - 'thinking' - foreign languages (translations – where necessary)

What Never Happened

by, Caliente

Chapter 2 – Friendly Encounters

Anna Raven loved her work. There's nothing more exhilarating than fixing the unfixable bike. She felt like mechanics was something she enjoyed partially because she got to work with her hands. And after so many years of not being able to use her bare hands, it felt good. She was snapped out of her reverie when her boss called her. "Anna! Somebody here who needs your help!"

"'kay Bubba. Hold ya horses!" she called back. "Ah'm a'comin'." Rogue removed herself from the bike she was currently restoring and made her way to the front of the shop. "What can Ah do fo' ya?"

"There's a lady here, a Christina Cruz, who's looking for you," he told her. "Don't know if it's business related or not. If it's the latter, try to keep it short."

"Sho' thin' boss," she replied with a smile. "Where is she?"

"Out front," was his answer as he headed into his back office.

"Thanks sugah," she muttered sarcastically. She exited the garage to see a girl with light tan skin and dark brown eyes that looked a little funny. Rogue shook her head and chalked it up to too many hours beneath the hog she was trying to fix. She looked a few years younger than her, maybe Sam's age, 5' 5", and had long curly brown hair. Her hands were in the pockets of her baggy navy cargo pants, and she wore a light blue baby tee, that showed her well toned midriff. Rogue wondered what a girl like that could want with her. She glanced down at her own cutoff shorts and tied shirt. Only one way to find out. "You Christina Cruz?"

The brunette turned and smiled slightly. "Si, but I go by Chris." She inspected Rogue for a moment laughing. "You are not what I expected," she explained. "I figured you'd be muy gorda y fea."

"You'll have ta help me out," Rogue told the girl. "My Spanish is a bit rusty."

"Sorry," Chris replied bashfully. "Sometimes I don't notice when it flitters in. I said I thought you'd be, uh, unattractive. I mean, most male mechanics are, so why not the females as well? Should have known better." She shook her head with a smile. "Sorry for the confusion."

"It's fine," Rogue said with a grin of her own. "So, what can Ah do fo' ya?"

"It's my bike," she said woefully. "It's been fried. I was hoping you could fix it. I heard you were the best."

"Well, Ah can try," she told the girl earnestly. "Where's the victim?"

"Over there." Chris pointed to a fried hunk of metal a few feet away. "It's bad, I know. Think there's any hope?"

Rogue approached the machine and closely inspected it while Chris watched anxiously. "Ah think there's some hope. Ah'll try my best, that's fo' sho'."

"Oh thank you!" Chris cried, throwing her arms around a surprised Rogue and pulling her into a hug. "I just didn't know what to do. I mean, there I was, riding when it got struck by lightning. And in a town I don't know, I was muy nerviousa," she babbled with a grin. She paused and smiled. "But you, you've made my day. You might be able to save her."

Rogue was surprised at her sudden show of emotion but smiled at the girl. "Calm down hon," she soothed placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now, where are ya stayin' so Ah can contact ya when Ah'm through."

"Oh, uhm…" Chris looked ashamed and flustered. "I, uh, don't really have anywhere to stay." She gestured to the half empty olive green duffel bag at her feet. "I don't have much money and, uhm, I, uh, well," she ran her hand through her hair, "fixing my bike is going to pretty much leave me broke."

"Then Ah guess ya'll just have ta stay with me an' my friends," Rogue told her with a grin. "We'll always ready ta help a mutant in need."

"Mutant?" Chris feigned confusion. "I don't think I know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid, sugah," Rogue responded sincerely. "Ya said you were ridin' the bike when it was struck by lightnin', but there ain't a scratch on ya." She shook her head slightly. "Nobody but a mutant coulda made it out without some sign or injury. Don't know why ya wanna hide it though."

"It's not that I want to hide it," Chris admitted sincerely. "It's just that, well, I can never tell when people are going to be friendly or run after me with pitchforks." The two girls shared a brief, though slightly strained laugh. "After being booted from the orphanage, I guess I'm just a little self conscious."

"It's okay. Happens ta a lot o' mutants. Hell, my foster brother really was chased by villagers with pitchforks." Rogue paused for a moment, recalling her own problems with her mutation. "Mutations can cause a lot of psychological issues. Do you know how many times Ah've considered dying it?" She gestured to her two-toned hair. "Ah could hide my mutation, but the truth is, it's as much a part of me as anything else."

"Gracias," Chris gushed with a small smile.

"No problem," Rogue assured her. "So what's yer gift?"

Chris looked nervous for a moment before saying, "My mutation includes heightened senses, agility, and can form claws. I thought about taking the nickname Catwoman, but that seemed tacky." (A/N: Little rib at DC comics, couldn't help myself)

Rogue laughed and slung her arm over Chris's shoulder. "Ah think we'll get along just fine. Ya don't have ta worry 'bout anti-mutant protests around here. We all try ta get along. Though we do have the occasional problem. But what community doesn't?"

"Heh. I'll keep that in mind," Chris told her honestly.

Becoming serious once more, Rogue grabbed a pen from her pocket. Writing on Chris's arm she said, "This is my address. Show up sometime after 6 p.m. Ah'll tell the gang ya comin'."

"I really can't thank you enough. You're so kind, especially to me, a stranger," Chris gushed with a smile.

Rogue waved it off. "It's no trouble at all. Ya should walk around an' check out the town. The beaches are gorgeous an' there's some cool shops along the boardwalk."

"Gracias again Anna," Chris said giddily. "I'll be there tonight."

"Great. Oh, an' Ah'll take ya bag if ya want," Anna told her. "So ya can see the sights without it."

"That's nice of you, but I think I'll hang onto it just the same," Chris replied. "See you later."

"Bye sugah," Anna called after her.

Chris walked calmly down to the boardwalk. Smiling to herself, she made her way over to a bench and sat down. She pulled out a silver flip cell phone and dialed a number.

Ring, Ring, "'ello?" a deep voice with an evident British accent answered the phone.

"Hola papa," she stated with a calm she did not feel.

"'ow's my little girl?" the man inquired, grin evident in his tone.

She rolled her eyes. "Like you give a crap," she muttered angrily, her accent becoming a mixture of Hispanic and English.

"Whut was that Stealth?" he asked sharply. "Don't forget who you work for, luv!"

"How could I forget papa?" the girl scoffed. "You never let me."

"Status?" he barked, clearly upset with the conversation's turn.

Stealth gritted her teeth. "Everything's been put in motion. You were right about the mutant Rogue working at that body shop. I found her and she offered me a place to stay. And I've got Hellfire's stuff set up as well. I had a bit of trouble earlier with S.H.I.E.L.D., but I managed to loose them without too much trouble. Don't worry, Fury doesn't have a clue."

"'e better not," her father's biting tone did nothing to calm her nerves. "It's on your 'ead if anythin' goes wrong."

"Think I don't know that?" Stealth hissed angrily. "Whatever. So, if it does go wrong, will my great and wonderful papa, Christopher Stone the Third, swoop in and save the day?"

The dial tone was the only response she got. "¡Hijo de pera! (Son of a bitch!)" she cried angrily. Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she added, "Guess that's a no." Deciding that throwing her phone in anger was not a good thing, she carefully put it away. Then she calmly walked from the boardwalk pier into a bar.

Three hours later, a slightly tipsy, though nowhere near as drunk as she would have liked, Chris punched a big man through the bar door. Nothing like a little alcohol and a good bar fight to calm her nerves. She wandered through the small town for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of freedom she had without her overbearing father around. 'Father. Ha! There was a laugh. Just 'cause the guy adopted me doesn't mean that he's my father,' she thought angrily. 'Dios (God) I hate him!' She clenched and unclenched her hands in an attempt to alleviate her anger. Noticing the skies growing slightly darker, Chris glanced at a clock in a store window. 'Almost six, I guess I better head over to the Raven residence. The sooner I get this mission over with, the better.'

.·°¤°·.·°¤°·.·°¤°·.·°¤°·.·°¤°·.

Rogue arrived home from her job when she was greeted by a strange sight. She saw Tessa using her computer sunglasses and Bishop sulking while polishing his laser rifle, not unusual. But what was abnormal was the dazed expression on Sam's face and the way Remy was watching him, as if hypnotized. Rogue approached her boyfriend and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his daze. "What's so interestin' sugah?" she asked in a curious tone. "Or better question, do Ah have ta worry 'bout Sammy boy stealin' ya affections away from me?"

"Huh? Oh, hey chere," Remy remarked absentmindedly as he pulled her into his lap and gave her a kiss. "When did y'get home?"

"Just now," she replied. "But ya didn't answer my question. What's so fascinatin' 'bout Sam?"

"He's just sitting dere like a lovesick puppy. Can't figure out why," Remy explained. "Tried asking him, but no response. So I been staring at him, trying t'get his attention. He's in his own world t'ough."

Rogue hopped off Remy's lap and walked over to Sam. She straddled his hips, waving her hands in front of his face. "Earth ta Sam. Come in Sam." No response. "Paige is on the phone." Nothing. "Yer momma's sick." He didn't even blink. "Ah think the house is burnin' down." Still nothing. "Lila's comin' ta visit." This got a response. Immediately his dazed expression was replaced by one of guilt. Rogue lifted herself off of Sam. "Ah, so that's it. Found a new girl Sammy?"

"No," he finally replied. "Not 'xactly." He turned to look at Rogue, as if seeing her for the first time. "There was this girl. She was beautiful. An' she ran inta meh after Ah dropped off Amara at her new place. Ah mean, physically ran inta meh. Our eyes met f'r a moment, an'…"

"An' what?" Rogue prompted.

"…she kissed meh," Sam finished, smiling at the memory. "Wouldn't have thought much of it, but there was somethang funny 'bout her."

"Like what?" his fellow Southerner inquired.

"Just somethang 'bout her that seemed off," was all he could offer.

Rogue studied the former coal miner for a moment. "So some strange gal kissed ya?" Sam nodded. "An' now ya feel guilty?" Again Sam nodded. "Why?"

"Two reasons," Sam started. "First o' all, Ah didn't pull away. In fact, Ah woulda kept goin' if she hadn't pulled away. An' secondly, Ah felt somethang when Ah kissed her. Ah mean, Ah always like it when Lila an' Ah, ya know…" Sam began to blush furiously. "It was just different. Somethang that has always been missin'. The real reason we can't make it work permanently."

Rogue shot Remy a slightly desperate look, unsure how to respond to him.

"What y'saying Sammy?" Remy asked. "You don' love Lila. Ya love dis mystery woman?"

"Ah don't know," Sam replied, in a slightly upset voice. "Ah think Ah might've just been foolin' myself. Stayin' where Ah'm comfortable. Like when Ah dated Tabby, but Ah don't rightly know."

"Ya got time," Rogue soothed. "'sides it ain't like ya got ta decide right now."

"Ah guess yer right," the blonde Southerner nodded slowly. He kind of trailed off, resuming his staring into space blankly.

Rogue settled next to her boyfriend and the two cuddled for a moment, watching Sam with interest. Rogue pulled herself into his lap and gave him a sweet kiss. "What's dat f'r chere?"

"Fo' makin' dinner," Rogue answered with an innocent smile. "It seems only fair considerin' Ah brin' home the bacon, so ta speak."

Grumbling slightly, Remy pulled himself up. "Anyt'ing f'r you p'tite."

"Thanks sugah," Rogue called after him, as she turned her attention to Bishop. Cleaning his gun with a gentleness that didn't seem possible for somebody so large. "Careful, if ya rub it long enough, ya might create a dent."

"Ha-ha," Bishop remarked dryly. "Your wit never ceases to amaze me."

Rogue smirked at the large black man. "That's 'cause Ah'm amazin' sugah," she agreed. She scooted over to him and lowered her voice. "Ya know, Ah don't think Tessa likes Remy's food much. Cajun doesn't seem ta be her thin'. Maybe–"

"Rogue," his tone was calm but it held a warning. His eyes flashed as he dared her to continue.

Rogue met his gaze evenly before starting again, "Maybe ya should offer ta take her out." Bishop's jaw dropped, shocked she'd actually suggested it. "Just a thought."

"Next time keep your thoughts to yourself," he mumbled, a faint blush making it's way onto the former detective's cheeks. Clearing his throat, he resumed his polishing without another word. Rogue just continued smirking at him.

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