You run, run, run away. It's your heart that you betray. Feeding all your hungry eyes. I bet you're not so civilized.

Well isn't love primitive. A wild gift that you want to give. Break out of captivity.

Shooting at the walls of heartache. BANG BANG. I am the warrior. Well I am the warrior. And heart to heart you'll win. If you survive. The warrior. The WARRIOR!

"Gawd, Ah hate that song," Rogue muttered to herself, rubbing at her temple where a headache was brewing. Seemed like lately she always had one. She could feel the psyches swarming around inside of her mind like hordes of ants. It just figured. Professor Xavier had given so much effort in clearing her mind and a couple weeks later, BAM! The crowd comes rushing back with a few newbies. Her rotten goddamn luck.

She had almost gotten used to the silence. Being able to hear herself think and not having to wonder if she was being subtly influenced by Kitty. Or Kurt. Or Magneto. Sometimes she had a hard time remembering just who Rogue was. Well, that wasn't true. Rogue was a sarcastic, well-trained member of the X-men. The real person she had trouble holding onto was the person she had been before life had gone awry.

Closing her eyes, she lifted the bottle of Corona to her lips and sipped the bitter liquid. Ah keep thinkin' like this and Ah'll end up jumpin' offa bridge or somethin'. Then the world would be defenseless against the boy band conspiracy. She chuckled humorlessly to herself and opened her eyes again. The jukebox that was pouring out the campy eighties song was directly in her line of vision.

There was some perks to having an entire menagerie of powers under ones control.

The music abruptly changed mid-power cord.

Welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games. We've got everything you want, honey, we know the names.

Much bettah.

We are the people that can find whatever you may need. If you got the money, honey, we got your disease. In the jungle, welcome to the jungle. Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-kn-knees. Knees. I, I wanna watch you bleed.

"You know sumthin'? I'd say this song suits you perfectly."

Tilting her head slightly, Rogue slid her gaze up and found an attractive young man standing at her table, his white teeth displayed in a friendly smile. His black hair was gelled up into short spikes with electric blue tips. He wore loose black pants and a shirt that declared, Rehab Is For Quitters. There were an assortment of piercings, tattoos, and jewelry spaced out over his slightly blocky body. She found herself smiling back at him.

"Ah like it."

Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day. If you want it your gonna bleed, but that's the price you pay.

He motioned to one of the chairs at her table. "Any of these free?" he asked, with a casual wink.

And you're a very sexy girl, that's very hard to please. You can taste the bright lights but you won't get them for free.

Leaning back on her chair slightly, Rogue wetted her lips with her tongue and took a sip from her beer. "They're all yours sugah."

His grin spread further and he placed one hand on his hip. "Thanks! You're a doll. My boyfriend absolutely hates standing. Later!" And with that he grabbed hold of two of the chairs and carried them both away to another table, where another young man was standing impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest. Rogue stared at them both for a long moment, then rolled her eyes and laughed at herself. Honestly, what the hell had she been almost expecting anyway? Romance in an instant? Jesus, living with Kitty was really melting her brain.        

"'Dat be his loss and Remy's gain, cherie."

She turned her head and watched the tall, lanky Cajun she knew only be sight slip into the remaining chair across from her, just as the music blasting out of the jukebox made another abrupt shift.

A who da man dat love to make you moist and wet (Uh). A who da man that love to make you moan and sweat (Uh). A who da man dat love to make you scream out "yes", naw (Mr. Lover). Sugar.

Propping a hand underneath her chin, Rogue met his strange gaze steadily, carefully controlling her expression while trying to imagine all the various reason that he could be there. There wasn't a whole lot that she knew about him, other than the fact that he worked for Magneto and that technically made him a bad guy. But then Apocalypse was a much bigger bad guy and the Professor had made mention that they may be working with the tin can man and his band of misfits again. Well, that wasn't all she knew, but the rest was pretty much a jumble of nearly incoherent thoughts and memories she had pulled from him when she had absorbed him.

Sweet, succulent, and fine, a twinkling eye on my darling divine. I love the way you move all the way you're designed

"What would you do if Ah told you ta get the hell away from meh before Ah put mah foot up your ass?"

He pursed his lips and seemed to give it thought. Then he shrugged lightly, ruffling the collar of his trench coat. Why the hell was he wearing that thing inside anyway? Did he have an extra arm or something he needed to keep hidden?"

Now let me hit you off with this question sign.

"Dunno. Nevah see a movie where dat happen."

You seem to be the type for me to wine and dine. A little candlelight dinner toasted over some wine. Well I'll hit you off with this lyrical rhyme.

"Do you base all your actions on things that happen in movies?"

"Don't everybody?"

Shrugging, she lifted her bottle and drained the last of the liquid from it. Setting it down on the table, she glanced over towards the bar and wondered why the hell she had decided to sit so far away from the freaking thing. She didn't want to get up for a refill because it meant turning her back on the cocky boy that had recently added himself to her company. Bad guy or not, she didn't turn her back on anyone.

There was the sound of something sliding across the table towards her and she glanced down in time to see a shot glass filled with an amber liquid come to a stop in front of her. Raising an eyebrow, she looked over at him, but he was sitting with his body turned away from her, his gaze taking in the rest of the room while his hand brought a shot glass to his lips. In the center of the table there was a bottle of Southern Comfort. A smile lifted her lips while at the same time she had to wonder if this was some kind of angle. Was he looking to get her drunk so he could pump her for information? Or was it just an innocent encounter? He wasn't threatening her nor was he being particularly bothersome. Actually, there was something comforting about his presence. Something she recognized about him.

She studied him openly; her pale green eyes wary yet curious. Somehow, without even knowing he had done it, this dark stranger had managed to give her something she had desperately needed, something that no one at the Institute had ever been able to give. Company without the strained, annoying need for chit chat that drove her to avoid most people. It seemed like people up north just couldn't go two seconds without opening their mouths. She missed just sitting around with someone, knowing she could talk if she wanted to but didn't have to. That the silence could stretch on and on without becoming tense and uncomfortable. 

He barely seemed to acknowledge that she was there. His devil colored eyes drifted lazily around the smoke filled room, never lingering. Every so often he took a sip from his shot glass. And when his gaze finally wandered back to hers, the corner of his lips curved and he raised his thick auburn eyebrows as if to say, You done yet?

"It's Gambit," she stated after a moment, pulling the name up from the murkiness of his memories, "right?"

Again he gave half a shrug and leaned back in his chair. One hand slipped inside his coat and came out with a slim silver cigarette case.

"Remy," he corrected, holding up the case as a silent bid for permission. Rogue wrinkled her nose but nodded. He removed a long black stick from the case, set it in between his lips, and then snapped his fingers near the tip. A spark jumped from his hand to the tobacco and he took a long drag.

"Remy LeBeau. Gambit is for business hours only, cherie."

***

The Warrior by Scandal

Welcome to the Jungle by Guns 'n Roses

Mr. Lover Lover by Shaggy feat. Janet

Author's Note**

          Bad news I'm afraid. I'm going to be slow with the updates for a few weeks. I cracked a rib and it's gonna take a month or so for it to heal. It's surprising how much typing hurts. Plus I'm going to be moving down into NYC to go back to school and I need to work on a writing portfolio for this conservatory I'm going into. Fun fun. I'll try not to take too long. Don't want to jeopardize my . . . . crack bunny status?