Authors Note: Balloons, as promised, to the people who reviewed, I'm very grateful to you for cheering me up whilst I've been ill the past few days. Eugh, I hate strobe lights :-(

Totally Obsessed47, Chica De Los Ojos Café, NiNab: thank you all very much for your reviews! You made me smile.

Sweety8587: just a touch of kiotr ;-) you'll have to wait and see what Remy does, Rogue wants nothing to do with him, mwhaha.

Les723: glad your liking it so far. I have my (serious) reservations about this story; I didn't think it out all that well…just have to see how it goes I guess!

Ishandahalf: oh ishy, that's not you being silly, that's just the author alert system playing tricks on you! And you're a coffee drinker too huh? I used to be a mild-mannered tea girl…I blame having to write into the early hours of the morning, grr.

Freak87: I think Piotr would be pleased in a way, now Remy can't sleep with his boss!

Heartsyhawk: hehe, well in this chapter, you'll get to find out how she reacts, and other stuff besides...

GothikStrawberry: she could have done that, but Rogue might have fired Piotr then, see! I was thinking of him! Or Kitty was, I'm not sure, I've confused myself…

- - - - -

Music When The Lights Go Out
Chapter Three (Something about stalkers)

Rogue knew she should be getting up. She knew she should be opening up the gallery right about now but the party last night had carried on until later than expected and then she had ended up going to some club with friends…suffice to say, she hadn't got a whole lot of sleep.

In the end, her conscience got the better and, bleary eyed she sat up in bed and leaned back against the wall. She was fortunate enough to have a big apartment and as it was just the converted loft of a warehouse, it was all open plan. Right now it was a complete mess though, Rogue never really had liked tidying much and since she used the place as a studio too, there were paintings and bits of canvas littering areas of the floor. Rogue had tried to keep all her art things contained in one space, but it hadn't really worked.

Pulling herself out of bed, she lazily wandered over the corner that was her kitchen in order to make herself a cup of the coffee and find the aspirin she felt she desperately needed right about now. She noticed that her phone was off the hook too. She didn't remember doing that but then again, alcohol meant that she didn't remember a whole lot of last night.

Whilst the water boiled, she made a small effort to pick things up off the floor. There seemed to be a trail of destruction where she had come in last night that began with her shoes, idly kicked off by the door that concealed the elevator and finished with assorted clothes by her bed. In truth, even getting home last night was somewhat of a blur, but at least she had got home and not wound up on the couch in some strangers apartment.

She wasn't half way through her coffee when the phone rang.

"Hello?" she grumbled into the receiver.

"Bonjour chére, remember me?"

Rogue felt her stomach sink to the soles of her feet. How the hell had he found her? She didn't give her home number out to just anyone, she wasn't even listed! If he had called her on her cell phone then sure, he would probably have just got the number from Piotr, but Piotr didn't have her home number. Witling down a list of possible suspects in her head, she came to rest on one in particular. Kitty.

"What do ya want swamprat? And how did ya get mah number?"

"Ask me no questions, I tell y' no lies chére…" he said, trying to sound mysterious. Rogue didn't care; she was pretty convinced she knew where her blame lay anyway.

"Remy jus' wanted t' know if a belle femme such as y'self would consider joinin' him fo' dinner sometime. Remy did try an' call y' earlier, y' seem t' be engaged fo' quite some time chére."

"Ah wasn't engaged, tha phone was…never mind." She was still too tired too explain.

"So about dinner?" he asked again hopefully.

"Look Cajun, when Ah told ya no last night, Ah meant it. Men like ya are only after one thing, ya don't care about me, ya just looking for another notch on ya already over-carved bedpost. All this charm an' flattery might work on the floozies ya normally pick up, but it won't work on me, Ah've seen too many o' your kind before. Please don't call me again."

And with that, she hung up the phone.

- - - - -

"So ya'll never guess who called this mornin'," Rogue told Kitty over the phone, in mock amazement.

"Who?" Kitty asked. She was trying to sound innocent and clueless, but Kitty had never been a very good liar…

"Tha swamprat," said Rogue dramatically. She was on her way to work and knowing the gallery was only a few blocks away, thought it best to try and find her keys now. Balancing her mobile between her shoulder and her ear, she began fishing around in her bag whilst walking and trying to maintain a conversation with her friend.

"Really?" Kitty feigned surprise.

"Yeah, but tha real question is, how did he get mah home number, Ah'm not listed and not many people have it."

Kitty cursed under her breath, she just knew she had slipped up somewhere. If she had had the good sense to give Rogue's mobile number rather than her home one, Rogue would never be suspecting her right now. Why did the best-laid plans always have their flaws?

"I'm not sure…" Kitty was lying through her teeth now and she knew that Rogue could tell, but she didn't want to have to admit to what she had done.

"Well Ah'll tell ya one thing Katherine Pryde…" Rogue was about to finish her sentence when she turned the corner into the street her gallery was on and found an unexpected, and very unwelcome visitor at the doors.

"Kitty Ah'm gonna have ta call ya back," said Rogue before she put away her phone. She wished more than anything that she had been able to find her keys on the walk here, how could they get lost in her bag so easily!

"What are ya doing here?" she asked scathingly, increasing her efforts to find the lost keys in the hopes she could get into the building and lock the doors behind her.

"And a very bonne mornin' t' y' t' chére. Remy was just passing by an' he thought he would see if his favourite Rogue was working today."

Rogue stopped dead in her tracks, keys temporarily forgotten.

"Are ya stalking me or somethin'?"

"What?"

"Well y' harass me at a party, then ya call mah house, then when Ah say Ah don't wanna speak ta ya, ya turn up at mah work! Seems pretty clear ta me…"

"Look, its not like I went out o' my way or anyt'ing t' get here, like I said, I was passing...."

"O' course ya were." She went back to looking for her keys, wanting to cut the conversation short and dumped her bag down on the step, pulling out various items to clear space and make her task easier.

Remy watched on bemused as she began to empty the contents of her large shoulder bag onto the steps. She had all kinds of strange things in there, it was like that scene from Mary Poppins…Finally, when her bag was empty, she gave up and sat on the step, her head in her hands.

"What's de matter chére?"

"Ah've lost mah keys…again."

"No problem."

Rogue looked up and watched as he went over to the doors, took something out of his pocket and slid it into the lock. After a few seconds, the light 'click' of lock being released was heard.

"What? How did ya do that?"

"Ol' t'iefs trick chére," he said, giving her a knowing but mysterious wink.

"Thank ya, really."

"Well den chére, come an get some coffee me or something, after all, one good turn deserves another."

Rogue looked at him, he really was incorrigible. But he was right, one good turn did deserve another, she would have felt utterly heartless turning him down now. One cup of coffee wouldn't kill her.

"Alright swamprat, but jus' coffee, nothin' more."

"If y' say so chére, if y' say so…"


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