Thank you, everyone for your kind reviews. Ashnan, you're so good! Thanks for the encouragement. Patch and Li'lRogue, nice of you to join me for this little romp. I've been having fun reading your stuff, too. Ears, when are you going to login and review so I can read some of your fic too? You shoulda known I couldn't resist an offer of Wolverine with a cherry. ;) Ripper, thanks for the kind words... and everyone else, I'll get to you in the next chapter. Yes, it's all written! --CL
Ever since her chat with Xavier about his mental conversation with Logan, Rogue had been sitting on the bench beside the pond, meditating as usual. Gradually she became aware of another presence. It took her a few moments to come out of her meditative state, but the smell of cigarette smoke helped. Rogue had been hyper-aware of smoke since Pyro. There was also a hint of southern in the man's speech. Combined with the hint of French, it was enough to prick her awareness.
"So I been askin' who is de lovely chere who is always alone by de pond?" he asked.
Rogue didn't answer – she wasn't quite out of her trance yet. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder, and jerked away. Wide-awake now, and completely present, she stood up and barked, "Who the hell are you?"
He seemed unaffected by her unwelcoming response. "De name is Remy LeBeau, ma chere. Also called Gambit. I 'ave been 'ere for several days, but I've not met you yet." He stepped forward and held out his hand for her to shake.
Rogue, a little impatient with having been interrupted in her meditations, stepped back quickly. "Rogue," she introduced herself. "Here are the rules of our new acquaintance: one, you don't touch me. Ever. Two, you don't interrupt me when I'm sitting here. Three, you don't smoke near me. Got it?"
Gambit was more than a bit taken aback. He was tall and slim, with long auburn hair. He wore a long trenchcoat, and gloves with two fingers cut out on each hand. Very handsome and a little wild, he was much more used to women flirting back when he turned on the charm. Instantly intrigued, and never one to back down from a challenge, he took one last long draw on the cigarette and flicked it onto the grass. He reached for her shoulder again with a smile, saying something about its being a "shame dat someone so beautiful did not want to be touched," and that she had skin that was just made for touching.
Rogue blocked his arm swiftly, and stepped back again. "Yes, if you want to die a painful death!" she snapped. Gambit advanced again with a smile, and Rogue backed up till she felt the bench against her knees. With nowhere to go, and filled with panic at the thought of him touching her and adding himself to the assembly of mutants in her head already, Rogue thought of Pyro.
The still-smouldering cigarette flared to life in the grass. Rogue lifted her hand, and flames leaped up to separate the two of them.
Gambit leaped back, swearing. "What is your problem, chere femme? Gambit jus' tryin' to be friendly!"
"I'm not always a friendly person. How 'bout if we try this again later?" Rogue asked, keeping the flames leaping between them. Grinning at an extremely discomfited Remy, she finished, "…or not?"
"Oui, chere, I see you later," Remy said, backing away. As soon as he had reached a respectable distance, Rogue sat down again, turning her back on him. Taking a handful of flame, she threw it half-heartedly into the water and listened to the hiss it made. She did it again. Shaking her head, she put out the cigarette and the rest of the flames, leaving only one tiny fireball in her palm. She sighed and glanced guiltily at the patch of charred grass she had left there.
Gambit stood at a distance and watched her play with fire. He decided to proceed cautiously with this one, for fear of getting burned. "Oui, burned on a number of levels," he said to himself.
Shaking his head, he turned around to start back to the mansion, and almost bumped into a shorter, burly man with wild hair. "Outta the way, bub," the fellow said.
Author's note: Although this is mostly based on the films, I kinda like Wolverine's looks in the comics better. Hugh Jackman is entirely too tall and gorgeous to really look the part, so in this story you can imagine him a few inches shorter, a few inches broader, and a whole lot rougher. The smirk, however, remains the same. You know the one: it shows up at the end of X1, just as he's about to steal Cyc's motorcycle again.