A/N: Okay, so you know how earlier I said that it'd been only one year since Remy was exiled from the Guilds? Well, I lied. It is now three. And I can do that, because I'm the author and I says so.

Also, to clear up a couple things you guys asked about in your reviews: As to the Storm thing, yeah she is a bit OC in this. I loved the movies, but frankly HATED the way Halle Berry played Storm. I'm sorry, but is giving her a personality too much of a challenge for Ms. Berry? (*ahem* sorry... got a little carried away there) So I've given my Storm a little more steel, a little more spunk in this fic.

Also, questions as to whether Rogue is being too hard on Gambit. My answer is no--they're ALWAYS being hard on each other in the comics! In one incident, during a b-ball game Gambit charges a basketball and chucks it at Rogue, sending her through several walls. But don't worry, they start liking each other soon after this chapter! :)

I looooooooovvve your reviews guys! It is completely thanks to you that this fic is going at all well! Please keepi t up!



Chapter 4

Could I do what it takes to shut you off?
Now don't be so sure but don't make me have to find out
cuz I feel lucky, you look nice
and I'm not gonna say it twice,
You're in my car now.

-Letters to Cleo

Gambit, really, can't you just leave her alone? Storm was rapidly getting tired of the games between those two. It had been two weeks since his arrival at the mansion, and she had just witnessed Rogue storming off for the umpteenth time after another fight with Gamit.

Remy scowled. You actin' like it's all one-sided, Stormy. Or did ya forget dat she takes every opportunity she can t'tell me jus' why I'm an asshole?

True, but you always seek her out. Can't you see that maybe she doesn't desire your company as much as you'd like to think?

He grinned, stretching languidly. Ah, de femme jus' need to get used to Remy, dat's all.

Storm shook her head, smiling. Well, you've got one thing going for you, Remy--you really do never give up.

He was quiet for a second, his fiery eyes unreadable. Then, I gotta go, Stormy. See ya round, weather goddess.

Once in his room, Remy slumped against the locked door, his telltale charm and humor replaced by fatigue. He had been up most of the night, trying to track down scraps of info from the few friendly contacts he still had in the Guilds, and despite how much he wanted it not to be the case, all the clues pointed to one fact:

The Assassins were after him. And that meant... Bella Donna.

Remy frowned. He'd thought that she forgave him those years ago, when he was forced to flee, he thought she hadn't held her brother's death against him. But if the Assassins were after him, it could only mean that Donna was heading the deal.

He began pacing the room, his long legs making short work of the cramped apartment, but Remy didn't care at the moment. He had hoped to leave all his feuds and enemies behind him when he left N'Awlins (granted, he'd acquired three times as many in the time he was away), but this... this was bad. No one survived when the Assassins were actively marking them--and it looked like that was the case now--and he didn't have the protection of the Thieves Guild anymore. They would be no help.

Remy stopped pacing, as a new thought occurred to him. The Assassins Guild--they were ruthless, they didn't really care who they went through on the way to a target. And as long as he was under Xavier's protection, they would have to go through most of this school to get to Remy.

For some odd reason, he didn't like that thought. He didn't like it at all.

Images of mutant children running screaming from trained assassins flooded Remy's imaginative mind, and he winced as he recognized Rogue's face amongst them. Normally, he would be grateful for Xavier's people getting in the way--give him more time to get away, after all--but there were children here. Not to mention the debt he owed to Ororo--she had let him stay here, absolutely no strings attached, asking nothing in return. And despite Scott's obvious dislike of him, the fact that he was letting Remy stay at all attested to his good heart.

Stormy was his friend, and a good one at that. And Charles Xavier was a good man, trying his best to make something kind and beautiful in a cruel and unpleasant world. Remy respected that. Could he really, in all good conscience, stay here knowing that they would all be attacked and it would be his fault?

And then of course, there was the girl.

Remy cursed some more and resumed his pacing. Dammit! She was bent as hell on making his life as miserable as possible whenever he was around, and he had to admit that she was succeeding. At first Remy had just wanted to have some fun with her, figuring she played hard to get, but now she was actually able to get a rise out of him, making him as cranky as she was herself.

So why did he keep doing it? Groaning in frustration, Remy sat on the bed, his head in his hands. There was just something about her, something that stirred inside him when she made him so angry--and something that made her far too sexy for her own good whenever she got angry. He wanted, needed that look at her eyes, the one she got right before she was about to throw coffee in his face or ram her foot into his shin, and that's why he always came back to piss her off, despite the bad mood it always left him in afterwards.

He was already addicted.

But that wasn't all of it, of course. Her wit, her pouts, the laughter he overheard when she was with her friends... they all entoxicated him, pulling the reluctant but enthralled Cajun in before he even knew what was going on.

Remy knew what this feeling was. He'd felt it before. He didn't like it.

And so, of course he wanted to stay for her. He wanted to see what her face looked like when she smiled around him, something he had yet to witness; he wanted to feel the texture of her hair, he wanted to hold her when she needed him.

But if he stayed, she would just get hurt like all the others.

Almost screaming in frustration, Remy grabbed his coat and headed for the door. It was never good to think about these things for too long when sober.

***

Rogue snapped out of the dream, sitting straight up in bed and immediately falling to the floor as the sheets she'd tangled herself in brought her down. Rogue forced herself to breathe and extricate herself from the sheets slowly, instead of yowling like a wildcat and fighting fiercely until the sheets were vanquished, like the Logan personality in the back of her head was itching to do.

Having dispatched the sheets, Rogue stood up shakily. Her dream, the one that it all came back to her.

She only remembered bits and pieces of it, but that was enough to give her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach: Bobby, caressing her with icy hands and then the fear in his eyes as he stiffened in pain and passed out. Logan, his face the mirror of rage as he rammed six blades into her heart. A wave of pain and anguish and death, rolling over New York City, straight from her and she could do nothing to stop it. Cody, pale as death and choking on her bed, the last expression she would ever se in his face was fear...

And red on black devil eyes, just out of reach, goading her, laughing at her, daring her to be more than she could, asking her why she couldn't save Cody, why she almost caused the death of an entire city, why she had to walk into Logan's bedroom that night, why she would always be nothing but an angry Rogue.

Rogue shivered. He hadn't been scary in her dream, or even angry, just... challenging. It was her own reaction that scared her. She had felt... desire. Yearning. Lust, even-

Rogue stopped her train of thought there. Yeah, right! Her, wanting that slimeball--that'd be the day. She smirked Logan-like to the darkness, and let herself revel in the cockiness of his ghost-persona. What the hell did a dream mean, anyway?

All sorts of nasty little answers came with that question, and Rogue didn't want to think about any of them. What she needed was some fresh air. Standing up and grabbing a pair of gloves--just in case--Rogue stepped out of her room.

Once outside, she relaxed, breathing deeply and noting with a smile that it had just rained. The air was fresh and cold, still a bit dewey and damp from the shower. She hoped that didn't mean Ororo had been crying...

She let her thoughts drift to Bobby, and almost felt guilty--she knew he wanted her to come to him when she was awake and upset like this, but how could he possibly understand? He was the Iceman, he had a great power that hardly inconvienced him at all (it even let him touch his supposedly untouchable girlfriend), he'd had a family and friends all his life. How could he know what it felt like to have nightmares that weren't your own? To dream about pale green laboratories and sharp objects, to dream about concentration camps and a boy who experienced humanity at its absolute worst at only ten years old...

She turned a corner in the forest outside the mansion and stopped immediately, cursing under her breath. She so did not need this right now!

Remy Lebeau whirled around to face her, his red eyes glowing and his bo-staff half out before he realized who it was that had snuck up on him. His shoulders slumped, and he scowled. I aint in de mood f'r your mouth right now, Rogue, he said bluntly. Leave me

Rogue clenched her fists, trying to tamp down the anger that was rising in her. What a coincidence, I aint in the mood for you either, swamp rat, she snapped. She looked beyond him and groaned inwardly: the spot he'd chosen to hang out tonight was right where she was heading--the dock and boardwalk that encircled the lake. It was one of the most peaceful spots on the grounds, as she guessed Remy had already figured out.

He sneered. Well den, m'belle, looks like we agree on somethin, f'once, he said. You don' wanna deal wit' me, I don' wanna deal wit' you, so why don' ya jus' keep on walkin, oui?

She wanted to smack the condescending tone right out of his mouth. Ah would, but this was where ah was headin', she retorted. So why don't ya jus' find someone else somewhere else to annoy, Cajun?

What? I got here first! he said indignantly.

And Ah live here!

He bared his teeth, his eyes flaring in the darkness. Dammit, why did this fille always have to be so difficult? Fine, den, he snapped, You go sit over dere and Remy'll be here, out of ya highness sight. Happy now? Rogue just glared at him and went to sit on the edge of the dock.

Silence reined for a while. Rogue wrinkled her nose as she heard him inhale a cigarette--damn, she hated that smell! Men who smoked were always the same: smelly, arrogant, skeevy, addicted--she stopped when she realized that she never saw Logan without a cigar on hand, and blushed at her hypocrisy. Well, maybe smokers weren't that bad...

Gambit sighed as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. What was she thinking of? Did she know how much she affected him, other than just pissing him off? He gritted his teeth in frustration. No matter how he felt about her, he couldn't deal with Rogue right now: he had come out here to calm down and think rationally about this mess with the Assassins Guild, and now just her presence was making him edgy. What you out here f'r, chere? he said, letting the question slip before he thought about it.

Ah thought ya didn' wanna talk to me, she replied icily, not turning to face him.

Remy clenched his fists in frustration. he snapped. I don'.

Silence again. Then, Ah couldn't sleep, all right?! Ah... ah had a bad dream. Rogue felt like kicking herself the moment the words were out of her mouth. No doubt now he'd give her crap about having nightmares like a little kid, wetting her bed maybe--

Me, too, he sighed. Rogue glanced at him, surprised. She hadn't expected him to reply with an honest answer, or to talk to her at all without goading her. What ya dream

Rogue was about to say, None of your business, but bit her tongue. He was talking to her like a decent human being, not teasing or trying to piss her off or anything--would it be so incredibly painful to return the favor? Besides, she didn't have the energy to fight right now. It was about a buncha things, Ah guess. Mostly stuff that happened last year.

Remy walked closer to her. What kinda

Just stuff. Her tone clearly said that she didn't want to talk about it, and though Remy was more curious than he liked to admit he let the subject to drop.

How does your power work? Remy could have kicked himself. He'd just blurted that out, forgetting that the girl he was talking to was as likely to slug him as to answer him, letting curiosity get the best of him. He braced himself for a blow.

Rogue stiffened, turning to glare at him. Why the hell should you care? she said.

Oh, so now it's a crime t'be curious?

What's it ta you, swamp rat?

I jus' asked! Scuse me f'r t'inkin dat mebbe ya wouldn' wanta start World War 3 over a question! She just glared at him and turned back to stare at the lake. He was unwilling to let her go, however. Seems to me dat you're overreactin' a bit bout ya power, if ya ask me, he said, feigning nonchalance.

She whipped around, staring openmouthed at him. Overreactin? Are ya kiddin' me?! Why don't ya shove yer-

All Remy be sayin', chere, is dat you're treatin' dis whole t'ing way too paranoid f'r your own good. Here y'are, wit a power dat enables ya to steal any ot'er mutant's power--d'ya have any idea what ya could do wit' dat? No one could stand in your way if ya used your powers right, chere. Ya'd be invincible.

Rogue stared at him as if he'd grown two extra heads. Ya just don't get it, do ya cajun? she said, her voice quivering with anger. Ah don't want power! Ah don't want a buncha fucking weasels wimpering n sniffling, ready ta obey my every command just cause Ah'm a mutant! She stood up, her movements made jerky and clumsy by the anger coursing through her veins. Good night, Remy.

He caught her wrist, pulling her back down, but she viciously jerked her arm away from him. Don't touch me, dammit!

Oh, listen to ya self already! Remy stood up, following her as she tried to stomp away. I can understand you're a bit angry wit' dem powers, but dey're not de end o' de world like ya always make dem out to be!

She twisted around to face him, rage and pain etched on her features. How the hell would you know, Remy? You've never had to live your life without touchin' anyone. How can ya possibly know what it's like?

He met her eyes calmly, refusing to let her see the effect she was having on him. Ya know, chere, I'll bet dat whatever happens to your victims' once dey've touched you isn't as bad as you t'ink.

Rogue stared at him, unable to believe the ignorance of what he'd just said. She threw up her arms with a cry of frustration and turnd around, determined to leave this crazy Cajun and get back to her blessed bed. It was too damn late for this!

Unfortunately, Remy had other plans. T'ink about it chere! He quickened his pace till he was right behind her. Have ya ever killed anyone? Have ya ever seriously damaged anyone--and don't give me dat story bout your first kiss an' everythin', everyone hurts or kills someone de firs' time deir mutant power shows.

He caught her arm, trying to get her to face him, but she twisted out of his grip. Leave me alone, Remy. Her voice held no venom or anger, but it was thick with a hurt that tore at Remy's heart to hear. He didn't know why he was doing this, why he kept picking at her when she was in such misery, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't make himself let her go, he was like a grade-school boy that showed his affections by teasing his favorite girl every day....

If ya t'ink your powers are so bad, chere, why don' ya test dem on Remy and he'll make de decision for ya? The challenge was out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Touch me, Rogue. Touch Remy and let him be de judge of whether or not you got it so bad, oui?

Shut the hell up, cajun, was her angry reply as she kept walking. Ya don't know what you're askin!

Oui, I t'ink I do. Touch me, Rogue--I bet ya skin isn't really as deadly as everyone t'inks. I bet ya just use it to trick everyone into t'inkin you're dis delicate, fragile chere dat needs all deir help. I bet ya just hiding behind dat power of yours so ya don't have to get close to anyone. I bet-

Before he could finish the sentence, Rogue let out a scream of frustration and whirled around, kissing him with all her might.


****

Oh, wow, I'm evil. You know I leave endings like that solely to torture you guys, right? ;)