Disclaimer: Still own nothin'

A/N: Sorry all, been busy, I'm not dead. Though my MX readers might think so...oopsies...heh. Enjoy the chapter!

FLASHBACK

Rouge sat at the bar of a nice little place, just over the Canadian border called Café Michel, swirling her coke around inside her glass with a straw. She stared blankly at the chipped mahogany wood of the bar, contemplating how she would get money for her next meal. Prostituting wasn't an option. She had way too much self-respect for that. She didn't know how to play poker or pool, so she couldn't lay bets on a game. She'd have to get a job, somehow. Waitress-ing, maybe? You got to keep the tips and usually paid well. It was the only thing she could think of, so she went with it.

Not a week later she found herself waiting tables at Café Michel, dressed in a maroon shirt with four buttons at the collar and black pants. A white apron was tied around her waist and held her notepad and pen. She had discovered after the first day, that undoing the shirt buttons and showing a little flesh got her bigger tips from the drooling men, which were most of her customers.

The owner had been nice enough, after hearing a heavily edited version of her story, had put her up in one of the rooms above the café for free until she had gotten back on her feet. You know the whole sob story, my folks kicked me out, I'm only sixteen, I've been on my own for months, I'm out of money and have no place to live and haven't eaten in days. That sort of thing. Well, she couldn't very well have told him the truth. She didn't think, "Hey, I'm a mutant who almost killed her last boyfriend and am currently on the run," would go over very well. It would be like throwing herself to the wolves.

The rooms she now inhabited were nice, in comparison to some of the other dumps she'd stayed at, like alleys, empty ransacked buildings, things like that. Her apartment had three rooms, a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen/dining/living room area, which was fairly large. The bedroom was painted a darkish blue with white trim and came complete with bed and a dresser with a mirror, plus a closet, both of which she happily used to put her things in after washing them. The bathroom was a mauve and pink, also with white trim and fixtures. The living/dining/kitchen, which she fondly called the multi-purpose room, was a deep, rich burgundy-red in the kitchen which was separated from the living/dining room by a small quarter-wall, and the other room was a light green. It was really, very nice and she was very appreciative of the owner for letting her stay there.

She had arrived at work her first night, not in uniform, as it hadn't come in yet, with her hair tied back and absolutely no idea what the hell she was doing. Nervous and scared, she had mixed up the orders for her first two customers and had forgotten what table her third was sitting at and had ended up getting it to him cold. Luckily, he had been very nice about it and hadn't screamed at her, but he didn't tip her well. So her first night was kind of a flop, but she had done better after the next few nights, memorizing her tables and where they were and working harder at remembering who had ordered what.

Then one night, three weeks after she had begun her job there, she met a man with the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen. They seemed to draw her in and hold her, making her blush furiously before she got her teenage hormones under control.

He couldn't have been more than eighteen at the time, fresh out of high school and ready to see the world. His hair was long, to the middle of his neck, with layers as far up as his neatly chiseled jaw line, framing his face perfectly, bringing attention to his already-magnetic eyes. His skin was evenly tanned, giving her reason to believe that it came from a tanning salon, rather than the beach. He was tall, probably just south of six feet and dressed well in tight fitting boot-cut jeans and a blue shirt that clung loosely to his well-built frame.

He had sat down facing her and smiled when she walked over, showing perfect teeth and small dimples. She had smiled back and handed him a menu, which he had taken, fingers brushing her own.

"How are you tonight, sir?" She had asked politely, flashing him a dazzling smile.

"Sir? Now, we can't have that. It's weird...call me Zach. And I'm just fine, and you?" His eyes met hers and a slight pink tinge returned to her cheeks, which she had thought she'd had under control.

"I'm good, thank you for asking. Well, I'll be back in a minute to take your order." She smiled again and walked away, biting her lip and smiling to herself.

When she returned a few minutes later he graced her with another handsome smile. "Hey, you're back," he said and for the first time she noticed his light English accent, which only made him more cute.

"Well, it is my job," she laughed and he joined her. "Have you decided what you want to order?"

"Yes, but I'd like to know your name first."

"Rouge," she replied.

"Rouge," he repeated, "that's an interesting name." He smiled again and ordered his food. When she returned with his food they continued their flirtations.

"Is it just me, or are you flirting with me?"

"I'm not the only one flirting here, you know," he laughed.

"Trust me, I know."

"So, when do you get off?" He asked.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, I don't know, I thought I might have the pleasure of taking you out for an ice cream or something."

"Are you asking me out, Zachary Stanton?" She asked with a bright smile.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Well, then, I don't get off 'til eleven tonight, but I'm only working until eight on Sunday, if you'd care to try again." And with that she turned and walked away with a smile.

Apparently, he did care to try again, because Sunday at eight-o-nine, when she stepped outside into the frosty Canadian air to go around back to the steps leading up to her apartment, there he was, waiting for her outside the restaurant door.

"Good evening, pretty woman, may I interest you in a carriage ride into town?" He asked cordially. She laughed and smiled. He was dressed very handsomely in a lightly pinstriped black suit with a blue undershirt that matched his eyes and a black tie.

"Sure, but I'm obviously under-dressed, so if you'd like to come upstairs you can hang out while I shower and change." She suggested with a smile.

"Of course, fair lady, I would wait forever if need be."

"Oh, you're quite the charmer."

"You have yet to see the full extent of my charm, Lady Rouge." With that and a smile at words, Rouge led him up to her apartment and left him in the living room while she showered and blow dried her long hair.

She pulled a robe around her small frame and poked her head around the bathroom door. "I'm coming out, so no peeking." She warned and watched as he covered his eyes with his hands, a light smile playing across his lips.

She walked quickly to her bedroom and shut the door behind her, locking it, just in case. She then went to her closet and pulled out a long dark-sapphire-colored gown that she had worn to her last boyfriend's prom. It was fitted at the top and had a slit on the side that went to the top of her thigh. It crossed in the front and formed a halter at the base of her neck. It had a corset back and the strings hung down her back. It was tight and form-fitting to the hips and was flowy in the skirt.

She went to her mirrored dresser and looked through her assorted jewelry, opting for a silver bracelet studded with tiny blue jewels and a matching anklet on the leg that showed out of the slitted side of her dress. There was no need for a necklace due to the design of her dress. She slid her feet into black strappy heels and put on silver, sparkly chandelier earrings. Her nails were already self-French manicured from the other day. She pulled out her makeup case and put on deep red lipstick and black eyeliner and mascara, then covered her eyelids in a soft shimmery blue eye shadow and a soft pink blush. She then turned to her hair.

This was the tricky part. Up or down? She debated with herself about it for several minutes before twisting it upward and clipping the twisted part, leaving the rest to hang over the edge of the clip and fall about the back of her head in soft curls. A few strands lay on the back of her neck and she pulled a few pieces out and left them to frame her face elegantly. She smiled at her reflection and grabbed her small black purse, slipping her small flip-phone inside and opening her bedroom door, stepping out into the dim light of the living room.

Zachary's breath caught in his throat as she walked slowly out of the bedroom on the carpeted floor, face shining and a smile playing across her lips at the look on his face. "Whoa," he whispered, swallowing hard.

"See something you like?" She asked coyly, smiling as she did a little turn so he could see the back of the dress.

"Wow," he coughed politely, trying to regather his wits. "That was uh... quite the transformation." He looked at his watch. "And in less than an hour. Impressive." She smiled at him warmly.

"Why thank you," she grinned. "I do try." He stood and offered her his arm, which she accepted until they got to the door and she grabbed her winter jacket and a blanket to put over them in the carriage. That dress really wasn't winter appropriate. She realized that she didn't care. She wanted to look pretty for him. She slipped her jacket on and looped her arm back through his, smiling up at his face.

The horse-drawn carriage awaited them at the base of the stairs, the driver nodding at them and beckoning them forward.

"Let's get a move on kids, eh? It's freezin' out here." The Canadian native said cheerfully, rubbing his palms together and holding the reigns between his knees. Rouge laughed and Zachary helped her step up into the carriage.

END FLASHBACK

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N: Okay, this is all I've written so far, so a new update might take awhile...bear with me. And thanks to the THREE PEOPLE who've reviewed (That is so sad)...