A/N: You evil bastards. I'll have you guys know that thanks to you, I am not studying for history and will probably flunk the test tomorrow. That's right, evildoers, you have aided in this poor girl's procrastination. Take a moment to reflect on your sins.

Thanks so much reviewers, y'all have no idea how much I love you! I'm so happy you guys like this story, and I'll try to live up to all your expectations. I seriously doubt all my updates will happen this quick as I'm busy to the point of combustion and am just lazy in general, but I'll try.

Enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer: Oh please, if I owned these characters Gambit would be in the movie and I would be playing Rogue. Hence, I do not own them, nor am I making any money off this, k? Suing is bad karma.


Chapter 2


In the interest of poetry
And the cowboy movie that's you and me
I'm back on the horse now and i am riding
I am striding so effortlessly
What i mean is it's late much too late for us
And i'm fixing to go home with just my conscious
And a bitter sense of irony as my chaperone.

-Ani Difranco


Stormy, where ya takin me, belle? Dis some charity house for m'tants?

Ororo Munroe gritted her teeth and stared out the bus window. Remy loved working her like this, getting her so annoyed that she was seconds away from frying him with lightning, and then charming her into a flustered pile on the floor. Damn him.

'S funny, I never t'ought you'd be one to spend your time in a m'tante nursin' home-

Dammit Remy, will you let up?! I'm sick of your constant whining! Ororo scowled out the window--she'd had such a hot temper lately, blowing up first at Scott and now Remy.

She could hear him move to sit beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. 'm sorry, belle, he said quietly. Sometimes dis cajun just don't know when ta stop.

Storm sighed. It's all right, Remy. I've just been a little... tense lately.

Haven't we all, he said darkly, referring to the growing tensions about mutants. Lately the news media had just been having a field day, what with the aftermath of Liberty Island* and the revealing of many splinter-brotherhood groups. Storm didn't know the details and didn't want to press, but she had a feeling that the situation Remy was in now arose from those tensions.

Remy sighed, leaning back in his seat, fidgety and uncomfortable in the enclosed space of their train cab. Ororo glanced sideways at him, really looking at her one-time thieving companion for the first time since she'd picked him up. He was thin, much thinner than he used to be, and she didn't remember his clothes being quite so shabby the last time she saw him, which, granted, had been years ago. His hair was longer and darker, and his face was no longer the face of the daring, flamboyant and more-than-slightly arrogant eighteen-year-old she'd met three years ago. She wondered what had happened to put more suspicion than humor in those eyes, to replace his young excited smile with a goading almost manic grin.

But he was still the cajun boy she knew. His demon eyes still sparkled with joy at his own cleverness, he still had that same damn arrogant swagger, he could still charm anyone--animal, vegetable, or mineral--into giving him exactly what he wanted.

She glanced at him again, and noticed how he studied every passenger that walked by the open door of their compartment, sizing each one up to see whether they would be worth stealing from, his mind automatically figuring out the best angle and way to steal each one blind. Ororo smirked in spite of herself, wondering just what her friends at the mansion would make of Remy Lebeau.

***

Rogue twirled her straw in her now empty glass of lemonade, quite bored and not really listening to the conversation taking place between Jubes, Kitty and John. Not that she didn't love Jubes and Kitty to death, but whenever they were around John they turned into walking flirting machines, and the way John looked at her when they were talking, as if to say Look at how smart and cool and hot I am Rogue, aren't you impressed?' was annoying as hell. She liked John, he was her friend and all, but honestly: wasn't the fact that she'd been dating his best friend for a year enough to send the message I'm not interested?' Sheesh.

Jubes broke in on Rogue's reverie. Hey Rogue, do ya know when Bobby's gonna be back?

Rogue sighed. What a pleasant conversation topic. all he said was that his grandma was really sick, and the whole family had to be there for her, nothin' else.

Kitty heaved a Big Sigh. Well damn, girl, I hope he gets back soon, because you have been a walking model for sexual frustration lately!

Rogue gasped and socked her friend in the arm as Jubes and Kitty giggled helplessly. John, on the other hand, just gazed at Rogue, raising his eyebrow. Well, you know, you could find an outlet for that frustration, if you wanted to, he said, mock-suggestively.

Rogue rolled her eyes. Yeah, because your powers allow you to touch me, all right, she said sarcastically.

John blinked, mystified. What, you mean girls don't appreciate third-degree burns?

Oh yeah, baby, burn me. No one makes it hot like you do! Her sarcasm would have cut through diamonds.

Aw come on, Rogue, you know you want it, he teased, jokingly placing his hand on her arm, right where her glove ended and her skin began.

Rogue jerked away as if he really had burned her. Not funny, John, she growled before storming out of the room.

Jubilee shook her head. Man, that girl is touchy, she said.

Kitty winked. Fatally touchy. Get it?

A vicious pillow fight ensued.

***

Rogue didn't stop walking until she was outside. Stopping when she reached the gate, she scuffed her black boot on the pavement, sighing. Sometimes she wished she smoked just so she could have something to do at times like these.

She wrapped her fingers around the slender metal posts that made up the gate. She probably shouldn't have stormed off in a huff like that; they were her friends, it's not like they meant anything by it. Jubes had just managed to touch on an extremely sensitive for Rogue.

She didn't begrudge him going to visit his grandmother or anything; she just missed him, or rather missed what he could do. She missed the icy feel of his tongue and how his touches could make everything else just go away. She missed the expression in his eyes that took over whenever he glanced at her; she missed the wounded puppy-dog look he got whenever she got mad at him, whenever she hurt him. She loved how much he wanted her, loved her, loved having his arms there to hold her up and his voice always ready to whisper in her ear, Don't worry, Rogue. Everything's going to be all right. I'm here for you.

And he could touch her. Rogue winced; no matter how much she lied to herself, she knew that one of the biggest reasons she was staying with Bobby Drake was because he could get past her mutation. Granted, there was still a layer of ever-so-thin ice between them, but Rogue figured it was as good as she was ever going to get.

It wasn't the kissing or the sex that she needed so badly; it was just the ... touching. His hand on her cheek, his kisses in her hair, his arm around her as they cuddled on the couch. It was being unafraid of killing him that Rogue needed so much.

And he knew it too. Rogue hated to see him hurting so much, hated to see his face when he knew they were about to fight again, but she couldn't help it. Couldn't help it if, whenever her arms were around his neck she was hearing Logan's voice in her head. Couldn't help it if she thought of her supposed father figure whenever Bobby put his arms around her. Couldn't help it if she treasured every hug, slight touch or word from the Wolverine far more than she did the efforts of her boyfriend...

Groaning in frustration, Rogue turned around, ready to stomp back to the mansion, when she had the pleasure of meeting a very large cardboard box at eye level, complemented by several suitcases, a backpack and more than a few shopping bags. The southern belle went flying, as did the baggage and the man carrying them.

Rogue found herself sprawled out on the pavement, a dull pain throbbing at her forehead where she'd collided with the box-monster. She sat up, rubbing her forehead and peering up through white bangs at the stranger.

Remy swore under his breath. Someone had knocked into him, hard, and sent him and his luggage flying. He got up from the ground, rubbing his neck where the fence had smashed into him. Brushing his brown hair out of his eyes, he got a good look at his assailant, who appeared to be some teeny-bopper girl with a gothic fashion sense and apparently a large-sized amount of clumsiness as well. D'ya mind watchin' where ya goin, fille? he scowled.

Rogue glared at him from the ground, yanking her gloves back and her skirt down so that they covered as much skin as possible. You were the one who ran into me, she retorted.

Remy snorted. Right, like I could run anywhere wit' all dese boxes. Do ya knock every handsome stranger on his ass or is dat jus' my special privilege?

If Ah knocked every handsome guy I met down, trust me sugah Ah would've avoided you. Damn she was in a mean mood today!

Remy rolled his eyes. Whatever, fille. Here, let me help you up-

Rogue shoved his hand away, getting up on her own. Ah don't need yer help.

Remy grinned, and Rogue had the sudden urge to smack it off his face. Damn you a feisty femme! Do ya have a name or should I just call you Bitchy britches?'

Rogue gaped, but then scowled. Ah'd ask for your name, but Ah don't need it, do ah? Ah can tell who ya are by the swamp-stink and the skanky hairdo already.

Remy grinned again and swept an elegant bow. You didn' ask, but I'll grant anyway. Th'name's Remy Lebeau, master thief, mutant and charmer extraordinaire at your service.

Dear God, could he be any cockier? Aint you the humble picture.

He winked. I try, chere, I try. He swaggered over to Rogue and reached out to grab her chin. But the pretty fille still hasn't given Remy her name-

Rogue swiftly sidestepped his hand, smacking it away. Keep y'hands to yahself, she growled, and the Cajun took a step back, unnerved by her sudden harsh behavior. No one touches me around here.

Remy recovered from his surprise and sneered, very obviously checking out every inch of her body. And why on earths dat? his tone suggestive as hell and his eyes locking on impolite places.

Rogue was too angry to blush. Resisting the urge to give him a swift kick to the balls, she contented herself with happy images of what Logan would do to this man if he heard him saying this. Because Ah'm dangerous, swamp rat, she said, meeting his eyes and trying to look the part. Don't mess with me.

Remy smirked. Ya look about as dangerous as a kitten, p'tite, he said, and was rewarded when Rogue's face contorted with rage. What ya gon' do, hiss at me till I go

Rogue was tempted to use her power to show him just how dangerous she really was, but then again she definitely did not want this guy in her head. Instead she satisfied herself with swinging her boot into Remy's shins.

He yelped and jumped back, obviously not expecting her to react so violently. What ya do dat for? he yelled.

Rogue folded her arms across her chest, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. Ah told ya not ta mess with me, didn' I?

Remy glared at her, rubbing his shin where her foot had connected. Now I see why no one wanta touch you, he said. What homme wanna get close wit' a femme in constant PMS?

Rogue was beginning to see red, and she could feel Logan's personality inside her mind, egging her on. Well, maybe Ah wouldn't be so angry if pretty-boy assholes didn't keep smashing into me! What the hell are ya doin' here, anyway? Ya look a little old to be a student here, and Ah doubt yer smart enough to teach.

Remy scowled. For your informacion, Mademoiselle, I am a guest here, so maybe you'd betta be watchin' dat mouth of yours! Aint you to young t'be usin' such naughty words? His scowl turned to a smirk, and he could see how mad being called young made this fille. Score one for him.

Rogue actually hadn't even noticed he'd called her young; her attention was fixed on something else. You're the one stayin' in Logan's old room, aint you? she yelled.

Remy blinked, nonplussed. Who de hell is Logan?

Rogue didn't bother to answer, just turned around and stomped back up the path and through the main doors. Remy called after her, Remy never caught your name, ma belle fille!

IT'S ROGUE! *slam*