Storm was talking. "Honey, you've been out here all day. I came out to call you to dinner." Rogue nodded and got up. "Have you made any progress?" Ororo asked as they walked slowly back toward the mansion.
"Some. I guess. I don't know," Rogue said. She was still somewhat shaken by what had happened with her mental Pyro.
"Maybe it's time to get the professor's help," Ororo suggested. Rogue nodded.
That evening Rogue stayed in, sipping tea and trying to write. The professor had suggested she keep a journal to write her thoughts in, but she was having trouble finding words for some of her thoughts. She was concentrating on Erik at that moment, struggling to describe how he felt in her mind. She sat at her desk with the journal open in front of her, but she couldn't think what to write. She idly played with some paper clips, stirring them around with her finger. She looped two of them together, then another one, then dropped one.
She leaned down to get it, but couldn't quite reach. Then, all of a sudden, the paper clip rose to touch her fingers.
Rogue gasped. The tiny clip slipped through her suddenly nerveless fingers to the floor again.
Rogue blinked. Heart pounding, she stretched down again, and the clip leaped into her hand. She pointed a finger at the little pile of clips and waved it around as if she were still stirring them.
They swirled around just as they had a moment ago, but without her touching them.
Rogue slammed her hand down flat, stilling their motion. She picked one up without touching it, and straightened it out. She gritted her teeth and stabbed her hand with it, hard.
Blood oozed out, and it hurt. Rogue grinned, then closed her eyes.
Instead of thinking of Magneto, she concentrated hard on Logan. She remembered the way he smelled, of leather and cigars and motor oil, and thought of how he healed so quickly. Then she opened her eyes and stabbed her hand again.
It healed. She blinked, and did it again.
It healed.
Rogue absently scratched at her knuckles with her other hand and closed her eyes. Remembering Bobby, and their icy-cold kiss at his parents' house, she focussed on how it had felt, how chilly but warm at the same time.
Opening her eyes, she reached out and touched her tea mug.
It didn't freeze.
It didn't freeze, but the steam disappeared. When Rogue touched her lips to the edge, the tea was refrigerator-cold but still liquid.
Didn't kiss him for long enough to get the whole gift, Rogue realized.
For just a moment, she started to think about Pyro, to heat her tea back up, but then she realized exactly what had just happened in the last few minutes, and jumped to her feet. Slamming her door behind her, she raced down the hallway toward Xavier's office. Turning a corner, she ran headlong into Jubilee and Kitty.
"Whoa, where's the fire, girlfriend?" Jubilee stepped back sharply to avoid skin contact.
"Don't SAY that!" Rogue said in a strangled-sounding voice, and kept on running. She could feel herself only just keeping Pyro under control.
"That is one weird mutie-chick, I'll tell ya," Jubilee said to her companion. Kitty nodded.
"Professor!" Rogue shouted desperately as she ran up outside his door. She knocked hard twice, then threw the door open and ran in.
Xavier was showing Hank something on his computer, and they both looked up, startled, when Rogue barged in.
"Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but I need your help! Now!"
"Certainly, Rogue. Hank, we can finish this later, all right?"
"Of course, Charles. Rogue," Hank nodded politely at her as he headed toward the door.
"No, no, Hank, please stay. My problem might be medical too," Rogue said frantically.
Hank agreed, and sat down.
"Now, Rogue, tell me what this is all about," Xavier invited.
"It's actually gonna be easier to show than tell," Rogue said. "If I concentrate hard on one of the guys in my head, I seem to gain access to his powers too. Give me a minute to think about Magneto."
"Uh, all right. If you're sure," Xavier said, cringing a little at the thought. Shortly after the Statue of Liberty incident, it had been extremely disturbing for him to hear Erik's words and vocal mannerisms out of Rogue's mouth. She'd even called him 'Charles' for the longest time.
Rogue opened her eyes and looked pointedly at Xavier's pen. It lifted into the air and spun around, then dropped rapidly point-down toward the desk again. It stopped as soon as the point touched, and hovered in the air for a moment before it started writing.
Xavier shuddered. His desk calendar now had "Hello, Charles," written on it in Erik's handwriting.
More, more! I'm still not satisfied. Bottom right, "Go" button, you know what to do.