"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

Gambit stepped aside, but warned him, "If you going to chat up de lady, I can tell you she bes' left alone, mon ami."

The guy stopped and looked back at him. "Two things: One, stay the hell outta my business, and two, I ain't yer freakin' pal." With a growl, he continued on his way toward the girl on the bench.

Gambit smirked a little and waited till the guy reached the bench. He thought the guy might need some help if Rogue set him on fire.

Logan, still mildly irked by his confrontation with the skinny Frenchman, strode over to Rogue and squeezed her shoulder. "Hey, darlin'."

Rogue, startled and thinking it was Remy again, jumped to her feet and launched her final fireball at him.

Wolverine roared and released his claws in a pained fury. Unthinking, he lashed out and swiped at his opponent with a growl. The raw gasp he heard helped to clear his head; he had heard that gasp once before and he realized it was Rogue! He sheathed his claws with a shink and grabbed her shoulders. "Oh God, Rogue, honey, it's me. How bad is it?"

Rogue blinked. It was Logan. It was Logan, and she had just singed off his sideburns thinking he was that annoying French guy. Gloved, she reached up and gingerly took his face in her hands, turning it one way then the other to assess the damage. "Oh, no, Logan, I'm so sorry! Are you all right?"

He gave her a look that said, Duh, I'm the one with the healing mutation. Already his burns were healed; the only difference was he apparently couldn't grow hair as quickly as he could heal. He grabbed her wrists and held her still so he could gauge how badly he had hurt her. "I got'cha, didn't I?" he muttered. "L'me see how bad it is." Very cautiously, he eased her shirt down off one shoulder so he could see where his claws had torn lightly through the skin of her chest and shoulders. The three scrapes, right across her chest just at the top of her breasts, were oozing blood but fortunately were not very deep.

"Damn, I hate these claws. I'm sorry, darlin'." Without touching her, he traced the line of the slashes.

"I'm sorry too, Wolvie. I thought you were Gambit," Rogue replied.

"Is he that brainless Cajun I passed on my way here?" Wolverine growled a little.

Rogue let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes. He's kind of a pain. He just met me and thought he had Rogue-touching privileges."

Logan's growl got a little more menacing. "Want me to gut him?" The smell of Rogue's blood agitated him and as he gently pulled her shirt back in place his fingers were shaking.

One finger accidentally brushed against her skin for a brief moment, and Logan's head spun. He lost his balance and almost fell, but Rogue caught him and helped him sit down on the bench.

"Oh, no! Logan, are you okay?" Rogue asked desperately. He looked so pale! But at least he was conscious this time. He swayed a little, almost toppling off the bench, but she steadied him by the simple expedient of leaning him back against her. "Mah God, Logan, Ah thought you knew better!" she chided affectionately. Her original accent always came back under stress.

"Jus' tryin' ta show off for the Cajun," Wolverine slurred. He felt drunk. He could smell the man still somewhere nearby. Wolverine's healing factor was kicking in rapidly, but he still felt a little buzzed. He squinted and grinned up at her from where his head rested comfortably between her breasts. "Show him who has Rogue-touchin' privileges and who doesn't."

Rogue cuffed him affectionately on the side of the head. "Well, you must be feeling better if you're tryin' to flirt with me and be nasty to him at the same time!"

"I'm an efficient sorta guy."

"Seriously, Wolvie, don't scare me like that. You know enough to be careful around my skin! Now get up, willya? You're making me self-conscious, here."

Wolverine had been absently rubbing against her breasts with the back of his head as he leaned against her. Embarrassed, he grunted. "Ain't such a bad self to be conscious of," he muttered as he stood. He picked up his bag and grabbed Rogue's gloved hand. "All right, let's get you in to see Charlie. Didn't your parents ever warn you about playing with fire like that?"

"Nope. My mom taught me piano and how to play Cat's Cradle, and my dad taught me CPR, which I promptly forgot when I put my boyfriend into cardiac arrest…"

Her voice trailed off in the distance toward the house, where Gambit could no longer see her. He didn't think they had seen him as they approached the mansion – after what he had seen down at the pond, he certainly didn't want to get in the way of either of them! He had been able to see them fairly clearly from his hiding place, though, and he wondered how on earth Rogue had been able to heal so quickly from where her brawny friend had slashed her.

Gambit decided to re-think his approach of the beautiful – and apparently untouchable – Rogue. His first order of business was to find out what the relationship was between her and the muscle-bound Bad Attitude on legs. His thin lips curved into a smile. Jubilee and Kitty would definitely be able to help him there! He set off toward the mansion, resolved to corner them before dinner.

Fun, fun, fun! I've got another chapter almost ready, too. Stay tuned! Mikko, Tammy, Sabeybaby, angw, and Artemis, thanks for the encouragement. Aliesha, are you still with me? Ravenwolf, I always like chronological fics as well. This one pretty much follows the course of the film canon, picking up where it left off. That was important to me, to keep things as accurate as possible. Especially the characterizations. Keep those reviews coming, mes amis!