A/N: Well here it is Ladies and X-Men, Good Day and Welcome to Chapter 4. I decided that since no one was really confused by the language changes that I would keep them around. It's not as prevalent in this chapter but it still is there for your sadistic pleasure. Well as always, X-Men: Not mine. Money: None. Stan: God. Joe: Keeper of the Keys.

Please review it really keeps me going...and thank you for your support. :)

Rogue pads down the hallway, her bare feet sinking into the ridiculously plush carpet. Just coming from the shower, a little voice in the back of her head tells her that it is dangerous to have this much skin showing.

::God::, she thinks, ::Only I can consider myself naked dressed in jeans, a tank top and gloves that cover my elbows in the summer::.

She allows herself a rough chuckle reminiscent of Logan's as the younger men in her head scramble to the surface. She can nearly see Magneto, Cyclops and Wolverine standing back laughing at the exuberance of youth.

::Did she say she was naked?:: she can nearly hear St. John Allardyce ask excitedly.

::Where is a mirror when you need one, eh, mon ami?:: Remy LeBeau sighs.

::Calm down, gentlemen::, comes Scott's smooth amused voice.

Rogue sighs loudly, and is surprised that it comes out in an icy puff. She is even more surprised when she turns into the gym and the water on her feet stick her to the floor. Looking up from her icebound feet, she sees Bobby Drake punching a bag as hard as he can. She watches his muscles clench and release each time his wrapped fist connects with the bag under the thin layer of ice glazing his upper body. She allows herself a moment to watch, and she wonders if Logan looked like this when he was young. Despite Logan's overprotectiveness and Bobby's need to compete for Rouge's attention, they had formed a somewhat close, uneasy friendship. In fact, she knows that is the exact way the Logan wrapped his fists when he fought in a cage fight. The silence she keeps around her is punctuated with the sounds of sharp jabs connecting with leather accented against angry intakes of air and grunts of force. With Logan's nose, she does not miss the scent of the boy's blood freezing between his knuckles.

"Something botherin' you, sugah?" she drawls.

Bobby wheels around, unaware that he had been watched. He shrugs his shoulders in defeat. He can never lie to Rogue—this is even more true now that part of his psyche is bouncing around in her head.

"He called me again," Bobby says miserably.

"John?" she asks. Bobby nods as he walks over to the bench. Straddling it, he slowly lowers his weight onto it, dropping his head into his hands.

"Is he okay?" she asks tentatively.

An unamused laugh escapes Bobby's mouth. "Oh, he's just fucking great. Wanted to let me know that he's training every day, and he's wanted where he is. I don't even know why he called in the first place."

Rogue forcibly pulls her feet off of the still-icy floor, trying her best not to wince as she leaves some layers of her deadly skin behind, before going over to comfort her boy.

"He misses you," she replies quietly.

"Not likely," Bobby mutters through his hands. "I just wish that I could understand why he left." He looks up into her green eyes. "You know why he left, don't you? You can tell me."

Her eyes grow somber as she gazes into Bobby's expectant, icy-blue orbs. A sad smile accompanies a slight nod of her head.

"He wanted a home," Rouge replies simply.

"He had a home. Here. With us. This is our home," Bobby says defensively, though he knows she is telling him the truth.

Rouge grins patiently. "Yeah, it is, sugah. You're right about that. I guess he wanted to be an only child." She grins as Bobby chuckles slightly.

"That does sound like him, doesn't it?"

"It sure does," she replies, walking up to stand in front of the boy. He wraps his arms around her waist, and she carefully rests her gloved arms on his bare shoulders.

"I'm sorry, honey," Rogue says. "I should have put on more clothes before I left the bathroom."

Bobby does not answer as he rests his head against her cotton-clad stomach.

"Why are we not going to work out?" Bobby asks quietly.

"Who says we are not going to work out?"

"Are we going to work out?"

There is a long pause. Rogue can feel the room lose the few degrees of warmth it had acquired since her arrival.

"No, sugah. I don't think we are."

She tightened her grip on her very first boyfriend—at least, the first boy brave enough to call her his girlfriend.

"You need someone else, don't you?" she asks quietly, already knowing the answer. The echo of Bobby in her head is unusually quiet, and has been for some time now. She simply hoped she was wrong.

"I still need you," he starts.

"You want someone to touch, sugah. I know how frustrated you are not to be touched at all. Everybody needs touched."

Bobby looks up at her. "What?"

"Just something that someone told me once." She offers a melancholy smile in lieu of an actual explanation. "It's still you, me, and practical jokes, right?" She sniffs briefly as she suppresses a fight brewing in her head between Logan and Bobby by closing her eyes for a moment and rubbing hard between her eyes.

"Always," he smiles. Standing, he presses a kiss into her hairline. "You going to be all right?"

"You know me. I'm goin' to be just fine," she replies, stepping out of Bobby's arms and offering a weak smile.

~Rogue.~ Professor Xavier's voice intrudes into her thoughts as she watches Bobby head off to the showers.

~Yes, Professor?~ she thinks clearly, trying to push her raw emotions deep and away from the surface. Having Scott in her makes little things like this seem much more natural.

~Rouge, if you are up to it, Dr. McCoy would like to run one more test this evening.~

Rouge looks at the clock on the wall. It is quarter to eight. A weary sigh wracks her entire body, pushing her exhaustion to the forefront of her consciousness.

~Ya'll know it's been kind of a rough day, right?~ she thinks with an amused flip of the words as she starts down the hallway, happy to reach the carpeting. As tired as she is, she knows that the tests are for her, to try to help her regain control of her isolating mutation, and when she thinks of it that way, she really cannot bring herself to say no.

~Maybe I'll see what I can do about getting you the day off tomorrow,~ Xavier responds.

~You can do that?~ she asks, climbing into the elevator.

~Yes, I think that I can make that happen. It is one of the many perks of having your name on the front gate.~ She can hear the professor chuckle. It made him sound younger than she knew that he was. Erik offers a memory of the two of them playing a prank on their literature professor at Oxford.

~That was always one of my favorite memories. Thank you.~

~It was my pleasure, Professor. Did y'all really do that?~

~Yes, I must confess that was one of my more devious ideas. I must warn you, however, that if I find a snake in my phone, I will know just who to blame it on.~ She lets out an audible chuckle as she makes her way down the clean white hall.

"Look Professor, I don't understand what is going on," Scott says, hopping on the table in Hank McCoy's lab.

"That is the root of our inquiry," Hank interjects as he attaches electrodes to Scott's bare chest. "We don't understand either."

"By all accounts, yours included, there should have been three people unconscious today," Professor Xavier says, trying to calm Scott's temper. "We are just trying to figure out why you had enough energy to run around and throw clay disks."

"I didn't even regain consciousness 'til three hours into Rogue playing with your…optic blasts, bub," Logan growls, leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, what's wrong, Wolverine? Tired of always coming in second place?" Scott asks with cold arrogance.

Logan pops his claws with a threatening snikt and begins his advance towards Scott when he catches a whiff of a scent. He stops and retracts his claws without explanation. Hank, Scott, and the Professor watch in dumbstruck shock as Logan changes direction, walks over to the center bed, and turns, giving Scott a dark look before placing both palms behind him and lifting his adamantium-laden body firmly into the center of the examining table.

Moments later, Rouge rounds the corner into the lab. Catching a glimpse of Cyclops' bare chest, she blushes girlishly, and turns setting her eyes on Logan. A wide open grin crosses her face.

"Logan," she squeals, rushing to his opening arms.

"Hey, kid," Logan says, enveloping her into his arms.

"I though that I had really hurt you this time," she sighs into his chest. Logan rests his chin on the top of the girl's head and gives Scott a smug, satisfied grin. ::Scooter's taken second place this time::, he thinks to himself proudly. ::She ran to me, not One-Eye. ::

Like watching a train wreck, Scott cannot look away as Rogue moves her ear slightly so it is resting in the center of his chest. She feels her chosen headrest rumble beneath her as Logan speaks.

"Nah, kid," Logan reassures her. "It's going to take more than little old you to keep me out, darlin'."

Were Scott's eyes not hidden behind ruby-quartz lenses, Logan would see him rolling his eyes at that comment. Scott turns his attention to the door as Remy swaggers in.

"Jubilee said the Professor wanted to see him," Bobby says, and, catching Cyclops' glance, points a thumb towards the Cajun and gives the universal hand signal for jack-off.

"I always liked that kid," Scott thinks with a devious grin.

"Thank you, Bobby," says the Professor with a smile.

"No problem, Professor," Bobby says, allowing his gaze to rest for a long moment on Rogue, in Logan's arms. At that moment, his heart acknowledges what his head has been telling him for weeks—she is no longer his girl. With a sigh, he turns and walks out the door of the lab, and refuses to look back until he reaches the elevator.

Remy, I am so sorry about what happened, Rouge starts, simultaneously slipping out of Logan's arms and into the French that she knows that he is much more comfortable with.

Do not trouble yourself, my love. A nap afterward was a pleasent price to pay to have your hands on my body. Remy purrs seductively as Rogue crosses over to center herself in red eyed gaze.

You should be careful around me, Remy. That was no nap. Rouge looks down at her hand while pulling at the skin-hugging leather gloves, relishing in the leather skimming across her skin. She looks up at the man once again. I am dangerous.

Admit it, my pretty. You like that I am in you, Remy challenges, ignoring the Professor loudly clearing his throat or the fact that a very large doctor is the only thing standing between him and a feral wild man ready to make gumbo out of the cocky Cajun. All three of them miss that fact that Scott has his right hand on his sunglasses and is fighting with himself to keep from ripping them off of his face and punching a hole through the boy.

Ready, Dr. McCoy? Rogue asks, not taking her eyes away from Remy's.

Whenever you are, comes the answer, as everyone in the room tenses, knowing what is to come next.

Rouge brushes her bare fingers feather-lightly across the Cajun's arm. Using his own power against him, Remy grabs her shoulders and nearly upsets her balance as he pulls her closer. Within moments, Remy's face takes on a veiny texture and contorts in pain before his eyes roll back and he slumps over on the examining table.

Ah, dirty devil. I'll have to remember that, Rogue says absentmindedly.

She steps back, hugging her arms to herself and shivering. She begins to sway slightly, and Hank is right there to steady her. His bare arms are touching Rouge while he holds her close to his massive frame.

Logan is amazed once again just how tiny she is in McCoy's arms. As Logan watches, he can see the woman entity being stripped away, revealing the quiet creature inside. Inside is Marie, stripped of Magneto's bravado, Scooter's boy scout bullshit, John's jealousy, and his own feral nature. For a moment his heart clamps down hard in his chest—it has a familiar feeling. He has felt this pain before, but cannot recall its cause. A thought of a rose crosses his mind in an instant, and is gone, and his attention is once again enraptured in Rouge's form, now standing on her own two feet with Hank's aid.

"Dr. McCoy?" Rogue questions, her voice trembling slightly.

"You forget, my dear, that I'm hiding rather dense fur under this holographic shell," Hank answers good-naturedly. He feels her relax considerably in his grip.

"I was waiting for all of that information to come flooding into my brain. Could you imagine? Screw falling from a plane with a kindergartener strapped to your back. I'd be haunted by microscopes," Rogue says with a small smile.

Instantly Scott feels as if ice water has drenched him from head to toe.

~Scott?~ He can feel the Professor prod his mental walls gently.

~I'm fine, Professor,~ Scott answers in a clipped tone, slipping into fearless leader mode effortlessly.

~We can do this later. You don't have to do this right now.~

Scott turns to look Xavier right in the eye. ~If we don't do this now, she will have to go though this all over again. She won't. Not on my account.~

~I respect your decision,~ Professor Xavier replies respectively.

Scott shuts down his part of the conversation abruptly, turning to Rogue, released from Hank's grip. The geneticist leans down for a slight sniff of the air surrounding the girl. Logan takes a sharp intake of air at the same time.

"Darlin', why are you bleeding?" Logan asks concerned.

"Oh, it's my feet, I think." Rogue says quietly. "Bobby was a little upset, and I kinda stuck to the floor in the gym."

"I should bandage them, Rouge." Dr. McCoy says. Rouge nods. Hank deactivates his image inducer without warning, revealing the blue-furred, lion-like beast that was his true form.

~It's easier for him to work without the image inducer's distortion,~ the Professor explains to Rogue. ~He's still a little sensitive about it.~

~Are you sure we have to do this?~ she asks once more, her uncertainty evident not only in her voice but in her thought projections as well.

~I'm afraid so. I need to make sure that Scott sleeps. I believe him to be on the mend, but he has not gotten more than two hours' sleep a night in months. He is feeling very protective of you at the moment, and I need him distracted, otherwise it will not work. It won't interfere with Hank's experiment, and it won't hurt Mr. Summers either, I promise you.~ She glances at Xavier to smile her understanding.

Rouge follows Dr. McCoy into another portion of the lab.

"Have a seat, Marie," Hank says. Rogue obeys quietly. The professor has told her of this part of the experiment. It is the only part of the whole thing that she is unsure about.

"Scott, would you be so kind as to bring me a dressing to bind her wounds?"

"English, Hank," Scott calls back. He can hear Rogue giggle in the other room.

"I forgot the bandages," Hank calls back. "Please bring them to me."

Scott hops off the table and crosses to the cabinet containing first aid equipment. Carrying the gauze into the other room, he stops when he hears some light purring, and the canter of Rogue's soft voice.

"So because you have fur covering your entire body, I can touch you, and as long as I don't go against the nap of your fur with anything more than fingernails, I won't absorb you?"

"That seem to be quite true, Marie," Hank softly growls out as Rogue drags her fingers up and down his throat and the tiny bit if his chest bared slightly by the two undone buttons on the collar of his white Oxford shirt.

You are pure temptation, Hank breathes in the perfect mix of a purr and a growl. I want to touch you, taste you.

Don't you think that might just be a little inappropriate to say to a student, Dr. McCoy? Scott says dangerously from the doorframe.

Hank looks up in perfect surprise. It hadn't been all an act. He did not know that Rouge had long fingernails in those gloves, and it had been a while since someone had rubbed his neck. ::It did feel pretty good::, Hank thought to himself, ::all things considered.::

Perhaps you are right, Scott, Hank says. In an attempt to be nonchalant, he begins to busy himself with the newly acquired bandages. I had no idea that you spoke German.

I do now, Scott answers evenly while looking at Rogue, who can do nothing but avert her eyes and blush.

"Very interesting," the Beast says, gently wrapping Rouge's red feet in white gauze. "I think that you are all done," he says to the girl as he sets the gauze roll at his side.

"Thanks, Hank," Rogue says quietly as she slides off the table and walks quickly past the two men.

Once Rouge is out of earshot, Scott turns to look Hank in the eye. "She may appear older than she is, but remember that she is still a student." He says icily.

"Who are you trying to remind, Scott? Me or you?" The doctor says as he walks past Scott to join everyone else.

Rogue walks up to Logan and stands in front of him.

"Are you sure that you are up to this, Logan?" Rogue asks with wide innocent eyes. Nightmares and sensitive hearing be damned, she was openly worried about what touching him twice in one day was going to do to him.

"Go ahead, kid," Logan says gruffly to mask the protective swell in his chest. "It's going to take more than a little pipsqueak like to you to really hurt me." Logan smiles and leans his forehead to touch hers before whispering, "I won't let you hurt me, darlin'. I could never put you though that."

Rogue smiles lovingly at him. She knows those words are true as he opens his mouth in a way that from anyone else would be a silent scream. ::It ain't a scream; it's a roar::, Rogue thinks. ::It's Logan. Screams aren't his style.::

Rogue is yanked forcibly back into reality as large furry arms wrap around her abdomen and pull her backward, finally breaking her connection to Logan. He slumps forward, nearly falling from the table, before Scott's quick reflexes stop his forward momentum.

"Christ, is he heavy," Scott groans from the strain as he pushes Logan back and lays his frame carefully on the examining table.

The professor gives a kindly smile. "Adamantium does have a bit of a weight to it. He must have a battleship's worth attached to him."

"I knew he was hard-headed, but this is ridiculous." Scott mutters before looking over at Rogue.

Rogue shifts her head and cracks her neck, just as Logan does when he heals. Shoulders drawn back, she stands at her full height between Scott's knees.

"You ready, Scooter?" she says, turning her head to the side and offering a sexy smile. "I saved the best for last, mon ami," she drawls, stopping a moment and looking up toward the ceiling. "Boy, that swamp rat is frisky." Rogue smiles as Scott chuckles.

Scott and Rogue lock eyes as she reaches toward him. His hand reaches out to grab hers. He knows that he will be the very first man not related to her to hold her hand skin to skin. Her smile emits a melancholy sweetness that instantly reminds him of the last thought sent to him by Jean.

I'm sorry, she mouths.

Don't be, Scott answers, intentionally bringing every happy thought he can think of to the surface. She feels his warmth entering the pit of her belly and spreading like wildfire throughout her entire being.

Goodnight, beautiful, he whispers. Her green eyes, so reminiscent of Jean's, are the last thing that he sees before a blissful onyx wipes the lab, and those eyes, from his vision.

Shaking, Rogue steps back with a single tear streaming down her face. She looks at the Professor, who is started by the sudden cold intensity in her eyes as she opens her mind wide for the telepath.

~Charles, you will tell the overgrown fur ball to leave the girl alone at least for a while. I do not know how much more she can take. Besides, it is getting crowded in here, old friend.~

Xavier blinks in surprise at Rogue.

"If you need me to be a guinea pig anymore, bub, I'll be in the Danger Room. Don't come looking for me." The young girl with Remy's bravado, Scott's clip efficiency, Logan's attitude, and Erik's warning turns and pads out of the lab, offering the muffled sound of skin and gauze on marble as a goodbye.

A/N: I just want to thank everybody who has taken the time to review. It means a lot to me. Ya'll are the best. The X-men are still not mine...I just checked. *looks over at Stan who is shaking his head no.* Please enjoy and review anyway.