New Author's Notes: Nothing big here. Read on.

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Yes, I know its been like a reeeaally long time. Do you guys even remember reading this story? Well, I hope you do, and I hope you read again and forgive me my terrible, terrible laziness. I'll explain the absence but... later. Yeah. Look for an update of The Freedom Caper soon too. AND CHECK OUT MY OTHER NEW SHORTIE FIC, INTHEMOVIESECTION.

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We've Met Before
Chapter 4

In the misty morning light, the air was moist with dew, and fog swirled around a lonely parked car, like a mink coat circled gracefully on a lady's neck. The rest of the street was bare, or at least hidden by the fog. Silver, shiny, and new, the vehicle stood proudly, almost haughtily, a sleek paragon of modern day transportation.

The handsome young man sitting on the hood either didn't hurt its appearance any. He exuded the stylish cool that had been the claim of British secret agents before him, though certainly, Bond's eyes never glowed with the same crimson passion. Black pants, black shirt, and a zipper-less leather jacket with a turned-up collar all covered his lean, lanky form. Not his usual attire, but he'd made the wise decision to forsake anything with metal, including his beloved brown trench coat.

The young man, Remy LeBeau, was meeting the Master of Magnetism that morning. The note had been so kindly posted on his desk before he woke, delivered by one of the other Acolyte boys. It was time for his punishment.

LeBeau fiddled with an air banjo as he waited, humming softly along with the jazzy tune in his head -a song from the Bayou, his once-upon-a-time home. That hazy, beautiful, comforting memory waltzed through his mind like Fred Astaire in a ballroom. He was relaxed. Not worried at all. Anything else would be foolish.

So he shouldn't have borrowed the Brotherhood and used them for his own private games and amusement. No one was hurt beyond a few kicks to the head, the police hadn't the faintest idea of what had conspired, and life went on. Magneto was the only one who didn't quite agree -that was the problem with these obsessed evil mutant overlords; they took everything far too seriously.

And for some reason, the more serious they got, the more rebellious Remy LeBeau felt.

A smile played upon his full lips. He was in trouble now, but couldn't have felt more confident. Magneto had an icy anger, more dangerous that a fiery one, but also more calculating, considerate of the facts. The Cajun was still an asset; he'd want to keep him around. So then, what's the worst he could do?

Demote him to the Brotherhood?

"Mr. LeBeau, I'd advise you to remove yourself from my car."

Remy opened his red eyes, and raised an eyebrow. There was Magneto, steely as ever, back to claim his vehicle and the Cajun's privileges. "Y' leave it waitin' in da middle o' de street all night, exposed t' da cats an' thugs an' vandals, but complain when dis respectful Cajun boy uses it t' sit?" Remy exaggerated a sigh and slid off, brushing his pants off. "I'll never understand da way some people t'ink."

"That is why I wear this helmet." Magneto answered. "To keep my thoughts my own. Have a seat, Mr. LeBeau." The metal poles of a street sign uprooted themselves, floated over, then twisted and folded into each other, creating a chair for the Acolyte. Remy sat. "I've been reviewing the information you're little gambit supplied us with, and I must say, its quite intriguing. Particularly this information on the ninja recruit. She was good, you say?"

"From what I saw...," Which wasn't a whole lot, Remy thought, considering his attention had been fixed on Rogue, "Oui."

"Do you know what the problem with working with adolescent boys is, Gambit? Attractive members of the opposite sex quite easily distract them. This girl worries me." It took Gambit a moment to realize he was talking about the Brotherhood and the ninja, rather than him and Rogue, " We already have our hands full with just the X-men, allowing them an able, skilled telepathic young female is not a good idea. I need someone who can handle her and not be distracted."

"Well, I-"

"Not you, Mr. LeBeau. You've proven yourself quite unreliable. After reviewing both your crime and this report, I've decided to recruit a new member to my team as well. The deal is being finalized...which brings us to your punishment."

Here it comes, Remy thought, mentally rolling his eyes. The swift hand of authority crashing against his desensitized bottom. The proverbial ruler across the hands.

"I've decided not to punish you. At least not in conventional ways. No, instead I'm putting you in charge of watching our newest recruit, playing guide, teacher, etc. And don't bother getting cocky about this, as though you've escaped my wrath. I've a hunch this is going to be quite the experience for you." A smile cracked the older man's lips and Remy felt an icy chill run past him. "You'll report to the Bayville bus station in two weeks at four o' clock exactly. That will be all. Good day."

The metal holding Remy up abruptly caved, sending the boy into the gravel. He winced and brushed the tiny bits of concrete from his palms, glaring as Magneto got into his car and sped away. That had been easy. Too easy, perhaps? Magneto was set on his punishment, thinking it ingenious, no doubt.

Another new face to add to the crowd. A tag-along. Was that the plan, add some skippy kid to keep a constant eye on him and make sure he didn't sway?

Or was there some other catch?


2 days later...

Balance was key. That was a truth Rogue had learned during her time with the X-men. When she was first shuffled off to share a room with one Kitty Pryde, it had seemed like a horrible mistake. She could still hear her own skeptical voice filling the dark corners of the hallway: why not just throw raw oxygen an' fire inta the same space. It'll all lead ta the same conclusion. But, surprisingly, the rooming had worked.

Not right off the bat, of course. Not like some after school TV program where they all decided to bake cookies after unpacking and swap clothes -God, not that at all. But little by little, the two girls had adjusted, two vines starting off on different sides of a wall and creeping towards one another, until their daily lives were well entwined. If it wasn't for Kitty, she might never get to school on time. If it weren't for her, Kitty wouldn't have had the courage to stand up against the anti-mutant classmates who threatened her locker space.

It was all about compromise. Give and take. Just like with the newbies. As of yet, Logan and most of the main team hadn't returned from their survival skills lesson/punishments in Canada, and Mr. McCoy's work was rather consuming at times, which meant Rogue was still -still!- in charge. She'd learned how to give, to bite back the sarcastic comments when ill placed, and how take, to be firm and unyielding as they ran through basic Danger room sessions.

Rogue was currently draped on her bed, legs dangling off the side limply, arms tossed out in either direction, head buried beneath a pillow, like some kind of suffocation victim. She was reveling in the silence of her situation, the void of busy chatter and ringing phones. And internally as well. It wasn't uncommon for a few random absorbees to throw in their two cents, to censure her, to complain. But apparently, they'd gone into hibernation.

Or maybe the newly arrived Mystique had scared them all away.

Compromise meant taking the good and the bad, she thought, uneasily. Accepting that Risty, her best friend, was gone for good and she no longer had an understanding confidante who could accurately interpret her expressions and guess at her moods. Hell, Risty hadn't even existed. The English girl had been a character, conceived by Mystique to infiltrate the X-base, steal information, trick the team; and, though the blue mutant had been adamant, insisting a want to get closer to her adoptive daughter, Rogue doubted. Mystique's talk was as shifty as her form.

On the brighter side, filling in the pieces of the past had been something of a breakthrough. Her cathartic rampage through the city had felt good, once the actual rampaging was done. She'd felt like sleeping beauty waking up the next morning. Having been given their day in the sun, the ghosts were content to sulk in the recesses of her mind again.

Her feet kicked up, shaking until the untied boots fell, hitting the ground with two clomping noises. Rogue was sore from her own early exercises, so she removed the pillow and pulled one leg to herself in a stretch. A sigh escaped her lips.

Everyone had to weigh the pros and cons of their life every now and then, just to check in, throw a few pebbles to whatever side needed strengthening. Like Kurt -he did it wonderfully. How many people, she thought with admiration, how many blue people could move to the other side of the world, away from a warm and loving family, and not let their smile falter? Add to that a villain mother, a newly discovered brooding 'sister' figure, several world-threatening events, and finals, and there was a definite recipe for sorrow, sadness...at least, more than a second's worth of gulping down the truth, digesting it, before grinning like a fool again. But he resisted. He smiled.

Of course, even Kurt and the Sun, so happily bound to each other, cast shadows. She suspected a slight, almost non-existent resentment towards her sometimes, the faintest flicker of a thought -if his mother had wanted a kid so much, why not the one she'd born? Why adopt after rejecting the one she'd conceived?

Her curtains were parted, her window open, allowing in the weather. The clutter of papers on her desk rustled with the wind, the white and pink skirt on Kitty's bed danced, and empty hangers rattled gently against each other. Rogue liked the breeze; if Kitty were around, she'd stick out her tongue, clamp down the window and advise Rogue to make use of the air conditioning system. But the AC didn't bring in fresh air, and that was half of the charm.

Charm.

Just thinking about it, Rogue could feel her head go light. That Cajun and his charm, the way he'd drawn her in, offering candy and ponies and his little lost dog on the other end of the mental car. Reduced her to a mindless zombie. She'd heard of girls going goofy over a cute guy, but this had been ridiculous.

Was he cute, Rogue? Like you remember? Like you'd imagined?

Hell, yeah, she told herself. But maybe cute ain't the right word. That boy's downright sexy.

How do ya know that's yoah own idea and not his?

Because Ah didn't touch him.

You did, once upon a time.

Before Ah had mah powers.

But he had his. He had his charm. How do ya know he didn't use 'em on you? Ya think ya felt a spark, but what if he was just manipulatin' you? You're basin' an awful lot on an event that may have been controlled. Is it really worth the risk?

He was being honest then. Ah could just...tell.

Right. Like you could tell Risty was such a damn good friend.

Rogue sighed. Why was it her own voice was a lot nastier than the friends in her head? But it was all about balance. Compromise. Good and Bad. So she balanced the equation, remembering that Gambit was just as likely to be telling the truth as avoiding it, and that spending a morning alone with one's thoughts could only be countered by spending time with other people.

She wondered what the girls were doing.


"Did you ever hear of sweet Betsy from pike?" Lorna sang happily as her fingers pressed the mute button and erased the sound of commercial jingles. "She crossed the great river with her husband ack."

Carol looked up from the pages of her magazine in puzzlement. "Ack? Isn't it supposed to be her husband Ike?"

The green-haired youth clawed at her throat. "Ack! Ack!"

Carol would have said something, but footsteps down the stairs distracted her. She saw Rogue and grinned. The two were becoming friends, of all things. Still a far step away from being considered close, but on the right track. Maybe in a few months, weeks, whatever, something more stable, stronger, sturdier would bridge the two. Earlier, Hank had mentioned something about a 'healthy friendship' easing the pain of a recent discovery and subsequent meltdown for the Goth, but he'd been mostly muttering under his breath and she really didn't understand what he meant. "Hi."

She scooted over to one side of the couch and left the available space for Rogue, who plopped down and blew away the white bangs. "Hi yo'self. What's wrong with Lorna?"

"Ack!"

Betsy, who was lying on a chair upside down, all her purple hair pooling underneath her head, gave a laugh. "It seems she's under the impression that she can't speak. Or sing. Shame, isn't it?"

"Betsy..." Rogue said. "Quit that out. She's just a kid, an' if y'all can't handle one lil' girl, Ah'd hate ta see what's going ta happen when the troops come home. Ah can guarantee ya, if Bobby and Jubes and the rest o' 'em end up with a psionic knife in their brains, yoah gettin' dishonorably discharged from this gang."

And probably a clap on the shoulder from the older kids and Logan, Rogue thought, but didn't say aloud.

You don't have to, the ninja reminded her in a soft English tone. Almost like Risty.

Stay outta mah thoughts, Rogue warned, made uneasy by the intrusion.

Or what are you gonna do, luv?

Rogue was concentrating on sending her a mental image, accompanied by a remark, something about the purple of her hair matching brilliantly with the resultant bruises of strangulation -the kind of graphically violent teases that the adults so often chided her for, that Kitty shuttered at- when the Brit was distracted, and quickly shut off their connection. Betsy rolled over, releasing also the mind manipulation of Lorna.

"That reminds me, you've got to see this picture that arrived, just a minute ago."

"That is so not nice." Lorna whined softly. "You can't steal my voice like that."

"Didn't steal it; made you believe I stole it. There's a very distinct difference."

"Meanie."

"Come on." Betsy took Rogue's arm and started to lead her towards the kitchen. "It's a bit odd, I think."

Rogue gave a small smile to Carol. "Remind me ta show ya the new program Ah'm writin' later on. Y'all can help meh work out the kinds. Ah've gotta find a way ta outsmart that leader o' ours 'fore he gets back." And then she was drawn entirely into the kitchen.

The painting sat innocently on the kitchen table, nestled among the mountain of mail that had been building up since the mansion was nearly emptied of its usual occupants. A thin blue, semi-transparent veil protected the image itself, running along the edge of its antique golden frame. Curiously, Rogue stared at it, not touching the object but considering what it could be.

Betsy came up behind her, arms crossed. "So, any ideas of who sent it? What it is? Is it common practice for artwork to arrive here, just like that?" She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point.

"Sure it ain't a present from yoah rich boyfriend?" Rogue muttered, taking the corner of the veil and peeling it back. Her eyebrows shot up in recognition, but she held herself calm while Betsy kept on talking.

"Its wonderful artwork, but the whole idea isn't quite Warren's style."

"And what is?" Rogue asked, not really interested in the answer. The picture before her was strikingly familiar. A museum in New York, noted for its grand planetarium. Indeed, that was half of the scene depicted, a vast array of stars and planets spinning around one other. The other half displayed the cozy, reclining seats that allowed for visitors to lay back comfortably while star gazing.

But the real eye-catcher was the painting within a painting that lay on one seat. Rogue didn't need to squint to recognize that inner scene, it was a common place for anyone who traveled frequently in Mississipi. The back entrance to the Jacksonville Bus Depot, to be exact, where old buses were stored until the city managers decided to auction them off. Glass windows and doors met it halfway, leading into the main building, a lost and found sign nailed to the wall. Had the little painting extended but a few more steps, the real road, with its moving buses would have become visible.

She could practically hear the clink of a rich lady's purse into one of the slots.

"Personal helicopters and caviar, naturally."

Rogue looked up. "Huh?"

"You asked what's Warren's style. I said personal helicopters and caviar."

The goth nodded slowly. "Uh huh."

The Brit sighed. "Oh fine. So we drive in the car like normal people. Let's focus on the painting, shall we. Is it common practice to order newly painted artwork?"

"Anythin's common heah." Rogue answered. "We lost our mansion recently, before y'all arrived-"

"What do you mean 'lost'?"

"It was uh, blown up. Nothin' irreplaceable. Anyway, maybe the professor's tryin' ta restock the decorations." She fortified her mental walls and prayed that Betsy couldn't pick up her lie. It seemed to work, because the ninja shrugged and stepped back.

"Okay. Anywho, I was just asking because of the weird delivery man."

"Weird delivery man?" Rogue repeated, questioningly.

"Yeah. Appearance wise, he was normal, I suppose. Middle-aged, balding, kind of pudgy around the waist. White suit, name tag read Roger, that sort of thing. But when I accepted the package, he fumbled for a paper in his pocket and read a poem...thing. A rogue retreat, the farthest seat, something about one o' clock, the doors lock, I dunno the rest. I thought he said Rogue, anyway, that's why I asked you. But I could have been wrong. Could have said vogue." Betsy started walking away. "Bogue. Logue. Zogue..." And then she was gone.

Rogue sunk into one of the kitchen chairs, running her hand along the painting. There wasn't a doubt in her mind who'd sent it. He'd taken a hell of a chance in his method of choice. One o' clock, Betsy had said, though it was four now. One in the morning, she wondered?

Yes, that seemed right. She'd have to go out. Mr. McCoy never slept; he was perpetually hanging from things by his toes, mixing strange chemicals, and reciting literature. It was his charm, and also, her problem. It meant she'd have to inform him prior to leaving. Which, in turn, meant she'd have to lie, unless he would willingly accept her decision to visit with the enemy at night and keep it a secret between them.

She didn't want to lie.

Yet, she'd already decided to accept his offer, and backing out wasn't her style. It was just one night. Her hand slunk into her pocket to grasp the cell phone. Licking her lips, she turned it on and brought it to her lips. Glancing around to make sure the room was empty, she spoke into it.

"Mr. McCoy, please."


Elsewhere...

"I'll bet," Pietro said to the rest of the boys, as they sat, gathered around the table for a poker game, "That my dad really handed it to that Cajun. That'll teach him to use me."

"Yeah!" Toad agreed.

"Yeah!" Fred exclaimed.

Over a handful of cards, Lance shrugged. "I don't know Pietro. Are you really mad 'cause he used you? Or 'cause he was making eyes at Rogue?"

"Why should I care about that?"

"Uh..." Toad looked around, pretending to think. "'Cause you're eerily attached to the same girl who threatened to beat you with a hammer until your intestines, liver, and brain were mushed into a single organ?"

"Hey, look whose talking. When's the last time you went a day without hitting on my sister. Now that's crazy."

"I'll have you know Wanda and I are becoming very close."

"Yeah, you have to be close to someone to strangle them."

"Speaking of Wanda," Fred interrupted, "When's she comin' back, anyway? How long does it take to...uh...what'd she say again?"

"Purge our freakish, annoying, childish ways from her system?" Lance supplied, sneaking a glance at his large friend's hand.

"Yeah, that."

"I dunno. I think it was just an excuse to take a vacation."

"Oh."

"And get away from Toad."

"Hey!"

Moments later, a fight erupted over the table, and the game of poker became nothing more than a mess of cards and chips scattered on the floor.


One o' Clock That Night...

Two Rogue's existed as she stepped into the planetarium. Go home, one warned, this is a mistake. He's playing ya like a harp, pluckin' exactly the right strings. And once you sing...what then, when he's pulled information out of ya, when he's tricked ya into betrayin' the only people who've shown an interest in yoah welfare...

The other shook her head vehemently. This is the boy ya met, long 'fore the world was complicated by mutants and allies. Wasn't he sincere that day, full of understanding, looking for someone to talk to? Haven't ya always dreamed that he'd been as desperately affected by that one, single touch as you? Now, here he is, admittin' it maybe -don't turn him away. Yoah going to make him yoah enemy.

But think about Bella. In the same instant he held you, he betrayed her. His love. Remember how carelessly he'd tossed her aside. Do you want to be the next discarded toy?

He was as reclined as he could be, facing the stars, his feet braced on the chair in front of him. Two open hands supporting his head while the rest of him nestled in soft velvet-like seat. Rogue stepped up, drawing his attention.

The uniform was gone, the black frame around his face absent, so that he looked more natural. That thick head of hair was freed, curling vaguely at the ends, falling into his once again black and flickering eyes. He smiled, but not seductively, or cockily. Just a regular 'how are you' grin.

"So..." She took the seat beside his, folding her hands in her lap.

"So..." He responded.

"You a painter?"

"Non. But I got a lotta friends in New York."

"Oh..."

"Lovely view, in'it?"

"Sure is."

"Can' see the stars like dat in de big city."

"Nope."

Suddenly he looked at her, a curious twinkle in his eye, like he was looking at her first time since The Time. "We've met before."

"Yeah. The bus station in uh, Jacksonville. Ya were spendin' time with yoah fiancé. But ya wanted ta go home."

"Good mem'ry." Gambit laughed. "An' you, Chere, were returnin' Bella's bracelet, non?"

"Ah would've given it ta her, but frankly, she was kinda scary." A memory flickered, of cold blue eyes, a voice, sharpened to a fine point, blonde hair pouring out around a trench coat. Ah wouldn't be scared o' her now.

"Amen t' dat." Strange satisfaction blew over her to hear him agree with her about that Bella girl.

"Does that mean ya didn't tie the knot?" Rogue asked.

"Dat means I shredded da rope and burned da remains. Made fo' one helluva bonfire."

Ha! He didn't marry her. Couldn't get you outta his head. Rogue was sick of having her own voice in her head. Was she that annoying to everyone else? No, yoah don't talk so honesty ta everyone else.

"So...Gambit."

"Remy." He corrected.

"Remy," She said, of her own free will. "What exactly do ya want? 'Cause we can shoot the breeze all night, an' in the mornin' we'll still have ta fight over who gets t' influence humanity. If ya want, Ah can talk ta the professor, y'all can come stay with us. We've got everythin', Remy, food, clothes, warm beds-"

"Can I stay in your's?" He asked, teasingly.

"Naw but Ah think Logan has room."

"De short, hairy homme?" Remy shuddered. "No 'tanks."

"We have a place for ya." She said, more insistent this time. "If that what ya wanted."

Remy sat up, more serious. His eyes twinkled red and went dark. "I wan'ed you, Rogue. Not t' beg fo' room an' board."

She wasn't completely sure what to make of that, or of the sudden dry feel of her mouth, the fidgeting fingers unable to stand her idle hands. "What do ya mean ya wanted me? Why don' you explain why we're here."

"We're here, Chere, because its a nice place t' sit. As for de other part..." Remy broke his strong gaze from her and let it fly upwards, into the stars. She saw the angle of chin, the slight rise and fall of his chest, the muscled, yet lean torso that tapered down to a leaner waist. "Y' remember what we talked about dat day?"

"Yeah. 'bout Bella being jealous, an' you just tryin' ta make sure that she wasn't a mistake. 'Bout connections."

"Den we kissed." It had been the single most unexpected, thrilling moment of her life. Not that she felt compelled to share that with him now.

"Yeah."

"Do y' t'ink we made a connection?" Yes. We both know we did. No. Get away from meh, Magneto lackey. Yes, but Ah ain't gonna give ya the upper hand...

"Ah was a kid, Ga -Remy. Ah don't know."

He sighed. "I don't know either, Chere. Jumped t' conclusions once. Ruined t'ings wit' one fille. Don't wanna do it again."

"But... what are ya tryin' ta say?"

"I wanna know de answer. I wanna know if den, now even, if it's happenin' fo' a reason. I hate maybes, Roguey, an' yo' de biggest one on my list."

"Ah can't kiss ya again."

"Good. Dat's not where I'd like t' look." Remy scratched his ear, looking rather like a scruffy puppy. It made her smile. Softy, she chided, snap out of it. "I want t' see you again. Jus' us two, nothin' related t' de outside. I wanna get t' know you. I wanna find out if we c'n talk. If we can stand each other when there are no distractions."

"Ain't that a risk for you?" She asked, thinking of herself as well. She wouldn't -couldn't- share this with anyone at the mansion. And she didn't have any friend, confidante, outside to swap secrets with. Seeing Remy again would entail lying, lots of it, and brick wall mental defenses. Was that something she was prepared to do?

"Oui." A grin cracked his lips. "What wit' dis place dat makes people afraid o' risk? Da boys, dey de same way. Roguey, y' tellin' me dat de girl who ran away 'cause she wanted t' live her own life, dat she's scared o' a lil' risk?"

But she'd been suffocating there, back in Mississippi. She'd been drowning in other people's expectations. Here...here, it was different. No one tried to mold her into anything other than a resourceful, capable mutant. They didn't stare at her like she was covered in pond scum or pity her because she wasn't invited to another party. They weren't waiting for her to conform. And they trusted her.

Like she'd trusted Risty. She shut her emerald eyes. "Shit." She whispered. Just like Risty, like her mother. She wouldn't be that person; she refused. Her mouth opened, rejection waiting to pour out -when her eyes reopened and caught another glimpse of the Cajun.

It's a gambit, but isn't everything? Those were her own words, to him. Persuading him that he couldn't keep asking what if. What if, Rogue, what if what ya felt all those years ago wasn't just static electricity. The X-men'll understand. They ain't the puritanical mob waitin' ta brand a letter L... for LIAR...on yoah chest. They'll understand.

It's a gambit.

A Gambit.

Gambit. Can you say no ta that? Ta him? An' if ya can convert 'im, won't that be workin' for the benefit o' the team? That's all ya want. Ta bring him outta the dark side.

She stared at him, evenly. "All right. We'll make nice an' be friends."

Gambit's grinned broadened. "Good."


The vans were home. All of them. Rogue groaned to herself as she walked up the steps of the mansion, dreading the encounter inside. She hadn't been prepared for the masquerade to begin quite so soon. Nevertheless, it was upon her, and she would have to face it.

Her mental walls clamped down tightly, drawing strength from every telepath she'd ever absorbed. The professor and Jean would know her better than any other mind reader; they'd pick up on things if she weren't careful. Thankfully, she'd also noticed that Logan's bike was gone.

Be careful.

She pulled the doors opened. A sea of faces greeted her.

"Rogue." Nightcrawler cried out. "You've finally returned. Ve vere organizing the search party just now."

"Yeah, like, I can't believe you started a new hobby while we were away. I'd love to go shell hunting. But at night? Isn't that kinda dangerous? Did you find any nice ones? Can I see them?" Shadowcat exclaimed, in a flurry of words. Her face was a curious, orange-sunburned tan, stretched almost painfully in a smile.

"Sorry, Kit. Ah couldn't find anything worth bringin' home t'night."

Scott and Jean were in a lazy embrace near the professor. Scott saluted her in a mock military fashion. "So, how was it leading the new troops for a few days, Captain?"

"Kinda fun," she said. She turned towards the professor. "But Ah didn't think y'all be returnin' so soon. O' at the same time. What happened?"

"A call," Xavier answered. "We have a very important job to do in a few days; I want us to map out a routine and practice it before the time comes. I contacted Logan and requested he return everyone to the mansion tonight."

"Yeah," Scott answered. "But we're uh, keeping this whole deal under wraps for the time being. We don't want the Brotherhood or Magneto to find out."

Rogue laughed, mirthlessly. Without Risty, who'm Ah gonna tell?


Notes:

1. Not-So-Individual Response: A word on Carol...gosh, does everyone just assume that the only reason Carol would be brought into a fic is just so that Rogue can absorb her? Maybe I happen to truly, really care for that character and wanted desperately to write her into a story of mine. Did you ever think about that? Did you? DID YOU!? Well, if you did you've wasted your time, because I've never developed any great love for the person whose caused Rogue such angst. HOWEVER (and prior to ever reading Ish's little comment, so that didn't mess me up, but it so could have), the Rogue takes Carol's powers, Rogue is sad story has been done before and by writers far better than I, and every now and then I do like to be a little original, you know? So just don't expect Carol to wind up in the infirmary, otay? I mean, she might. Or she might not. Or maybe she will, but not for the reasons you're thinking. Quien sabes?

2. Individual Responses

ME: Um, oops. The update didn't come so soon, but HA! because I've already eaten the cake and all the chocolate strawberries too! Hope ya liked this chapter. Thanks for the review. I'll really update faster if you offer me a glass of milk now, to finish it off (skim is fine, I hate whole)

Too many names to mention, Shinigami, Prettyputty: Thanks! You guys are the best! You can have any imaginary prize you'd like! I'll deliver it myself.

Trunks Girl: I am glad so many people have been reviewing. It makes me feel all special and happy and stuff. I've never met a spangled mongoose larry before (just a spangled mongoose named george). Thanks!

Vagabond: I'm glad you liked the newbies. I was hesitant at first, but I kinda like them now. Please review again!

Rogue Star: You do not know this, but you started the idea which eventually filled in a gap I'd found while mapping out a vague sketch of this story. I'll let you know when we get there. Thanks! And thanks for the review!

Snow Queen, Leigh, Rogue-aholic: Thanks! You are so cool! Really, like cooler than cool whip. Cooler than an igloo. Cooler than a container of cool whip in an igloo!

Tabby: Will they discover the secret history? Right now, our couple is fairly intent on keeping the rest of the world out of their private encounters, but who knows...dun dun dunnnn. You'll just have to read more!

Bunny Angel: That crazy Remy. Such the daredevil. Thanks!

Emerald: I almost left Carol like that, but it wouldn't serve my purpose. sigh Like I said earlier, the whole absorbing thing awaits to be seen -.

Ish: First off, you said don't let it take so long next time...er, ha ha ha. Two months isn't that long, is it?
You wanted to kick carol in the teeth? Ah, but look how horribly unsanitary a person's mouth is -suppose there's some freak accident while you're kicking her, and you end up with an infection in your foot that affects your circulatory system, travels up to your brain, and makes you not like Romy stuff. What would happen then? Remy has to win the love triange? But -no, I'm just kidding, OF COURSE its gotta be Romy or nothing at all. Or else the world wouldn't spin right, anarchy would ensue, etc. Thanks!

Neurotic Temptress: silence I can't even look at your name yet without thinking of how sad your ending made me. You can't see my lower lip trembling, fighting back the cries of sadness, but it is! Sigh And now I read your update and its got Rogue kissing someone that seems like Logan in what better be a purely platonic way!!! All I know is it better end up in Rominess fluffier than that snuggles bear sitting on top a mountain of cotton candy, silk feathers, and whipped cream clouds. Oh yeah, and thanks for the review!

FlybyStardancer, Immortal, Lilmissstiff, buffyangelus: Thank you guys so v. much for your oh, so nice reviews. I swear, you guys spoil me. As always, you can have whatever imaginary prize you'd like.

Dreams of Magic: Well, you asked this a long time ago; You've probably found a story like that by now. And sadly...I am unable to advocate/promote/endorse any story that features Rogue with anyone besides Remy. But thanks for reviewing!!!

Panther Nesmith: Mmm. I am afraid, that given the ninety degree weather, I was forced to give my hot chocolate back to the butler. sigh Well, okay first I gulped down the drink, and then I gave the cup back, but...However, the cookies, dear, are absolutely delicious. I must have the recipe.

I'm glad you like the way his charm was depicted. I know myself, after reading ch. 3, I was a bit sloppy, but I kinda liked the way his charm worked too. That was the funnest part to write. Thanks for the review!

Goddess Evie: Ah, the blush, I fear, shall never fade. I will be perpetually pink now, because you reviews are so nice. I wish only that I could offer you a thanks of equal niceness.

AngieX, Rogue LeBeau, This is sex, yagirl-123, Yumiko: Thank you! Hey, do you know how many different combinations I can use to say thank you, or something nice? Let's try it. URtheBest! ThankU! UguysRsoKul! Well, that's enough of that. I feel like I'm trying to decode some high school senior's yearbook quote. And besides that, you are so fantastically wonderful, you deserve to have it fully typed out, non? Thanks again, I LOVE YOU ALL!

Gaea: She totally should have punched him -I wouldn't tolerate anyone else hurting Remy like that, only Rogue . Thank you v. much! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

Infinity-x-forever: A recent Romy 'shipper! That's fantastic. There can never be enough of us! Thank you!

Alwaysright: I want you to know, I take your name v. seriously. Yes, when you say something, I must assume that its, well, right. So thank you v. much for your nice review!

I'm posting a short Romy deal in the movie section today as well, so maybe you guys could drop by there, read, review. Please? Questions, comments, and coconuts can be sent to me at

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