Author's Notes: this is probably the first and the last time you'll hear from me, so please keep on reading this for some explanations-cum-warnings about the fic.
- this is most probably can be considered as AU, since i'm not entirely sure if what i've done is even plausible in the x-men evo world.
- there is absolutely nothing deep in this fic. believe me. this is purely for the sake of romance, so if you see something that might look like a plot twist of some sort, believe me, it's not.
- i'm not really sure about the sequencing of the episodesof x-men evo, but i've seen quite a few to know a little bit about their world. this fic happens sometime between 'angel's wings' (where angel, warren worthington, first appears) and the 'dark horizon' episodes (where apocalypse makes an appearance).
- and before i forget, i'd just like to warn you that some of the characters here are going to be acting way out of character, especially scott. i don't know why, but it's probably because the whole thing is done on his point of view.
on with the fic.
After two whole hours of tossing and turning in his overly soft bed, one Scott Summers finally succumbed to his temporary insomnia and got up. He groped for his glasses on his nightstand and put them on. Wouldn't want to hurt anybody, now, did he? He then glanced at the digital clock on top of his bedside table and saw that it read forty-eight minutes after two o'clock in the morning.
He heaved out a sigh, ruffled his hair, and went out of his room. He didn't bother with his robes; he was sure that nobody was still up at this hour.
He headed down to the kitchens, hoping to get a warm glass of milk that he hoped would put him to sleep.
The manor seemed a little more than creepy without the normal buzz that the students emitted in the daylight, and Scott was somewhat regretting that he didn't bother with the lights.
After a brief walk through three floors, Scott finally reached his destination.
And in the kitchens, the lights were on.
He walked in, and saw somebody sitting at the marble counter. That somebody was wearing an overly large shirt that reached her knees, even though she was sitting down. She had her back towards him but he knew instantly who it was, just by her hair.
"Rogue," he greeted as he went straight for the fridge.
She jumped from the counter and turned to look at him. "Cyke," she greeted back.
There were no words that could possibly describe the look of utter shock on Scott's face when he looked up at her from the fridge's door. "No make up!" he practically shouted.
She sat down one of the stools and leaned her elbows at the counter she had been sitting on. "Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically and proceeded to stab her spoon down the pint of ice cream that she was eating. "Contrary to popular belief, it does come off, you know,"
"Sorry," he mumbled, messing up his hair. He couldn't believe how pale she looked without the make-up. Through the ruby tinted shades, he could see that she looked even younger. "You just caught me off-guard. Plus, you're wearing a shirt. Just a shirt,"
"Well, I didn't think anybody would be making a late night trip down the kitchens too, you see," she replied, putting another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. "I've been doing this for weeks now, and so far, you're the first one to break the peace,"
"Hmm," he replied absent-mindedly. His attention was now given to the contents of the refrigerator. "Rogue, where's the cookie dough ice cream? There were like four pints of them in here the other day. I should know, I bought them,"
"Too late, this is the last pint," she said. "Sorry to eat it all, I'll pay you back, with interest, tomorrow,"
"Nah, don't sweat about it," he said, taking a seat down the stool in front of Rogue's. She immediately scooted to the next seat to her right, taking the ice cream with her. He looked at her pointedly, asking the question through his eyebrows.
"Well," she started. "You said it yourself, I am wearing only a shirt. And you of all people should know how my mutation goes . . ."she trailed off with that forlorn look on her face again, making her seem older to his eyes.
He scooted down to the seat next to him, just as she had done, so now they were facing each other again. "Don't try to kid me, you only want the ice cream for yourself!" he said with a boyish look on his face. "Now give me that spoon. I've been wanting to eat this forever,"
"Fine," she said, without the usual seriousness in her voice, standing up and walking over to the drawers. "Be greedy like that, but I'm only sharing because it is yours," she proceeded to take another spoon and went back to her stool, pulling the pint right smack between them.
After minutes of quiet eating, Rogue broke the silence.
"So," she began, taking the spoon out of her mouth. "How are you and Jean?"
"What?" sputtered Scott, who happened to be at the point of swallowing the ice cream. He put the spoon down. "What do you mean?"
"Oh please, fearless leader. We all know that there's something mutual going on between you two,"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Rogue," he replied, bowing his head to hide his blush. "I think the sleep deprivation's getting to you. You're imagining things,"
It took her a couple of seconds to reply. "Sure, if you say so," and she continued eating.
Scott contemplated at the spoonful of ice cream in his hand. Rogue said that everybody--everybody-- knew about his crush on Jean. Damn, and he thought he was being discreet about it. "You know that the only reason I haven't done anything is because of Duncan, right? She has a boyfriend and I respect that,"
Rogue looked at him quizzically. "I wasn't saying anything," she said and the laughter in her voice couldn't be held back. "You're being too defensive, man. Besides, you know that I would be the last person on earth to pass judgment on others,"
"Yeah, I know," he mumbled, scooping another spoonful. "Sorry,"
They ate again in silence, and after they had finished the pint, Rogue attempted once more at conversation.
"Scott," she began with a tone of uncertainty in her voice and she had averted her eyes. "If . . .if you had . . .somehow . . .gotten rid of your mutation . . .what would you do?"
"Well," he replied, looking thoughtful. "Most probably, I would take off these shades and look at everyone in the eye. I want to know just what exactly the colors of your eyes are,"
She was silent for a moment. "No," she said. "I mean . . .about your life . . .would you leave the Institute?"
"No, definitely not," he said quickly. "Why would I want to do that? I love it here. Besides, where would I go? The Professor's the only person I have left,"
"Well, what about your brother?" she asked. "He's in Hawaii, right?"
"Yeah, but that would feel weird," said Scott. "We've been apart for so long and then I would come and crash on his house? That would be awkward,"
Another moment of silence from her before she replied. "So, you won't leave the Institute if ever that your mutation was . . . gone? "
"I guess not," said he. "Because I don't really see a reason why I would go, if ever. I mean, what would change, really?"
"Don't you know?" she asked in a weird voice and finally looking up to meet his eyes. "Discrimination goes two ways. We're shunned by the normal people, so don't you think that the people in here would somehow detest you, if ever, because of your unbelievable luck?"
It took a long time before Scott could answer. He never really thought about the circumstances that Rogue was offering him, and the reactions that she was expecting from the people in the mansion were too negative for his taste. He'd rather not think about it, truth be told.
Before he could open his mouth, Rogue had already stood up and stretched her limbs. The serious aura that had once covered her was gone. She was smiling again. "Well, that's it for me," she said. "I have to go to sleep 'cause it's the end of our Christmas vacation and the horror that is school awaits us. 'Night,"
Scott stood up abruptly. "Wait," he said to her back. She looked back at him. "I'll walk you to your room,"
She looked at him quizzically once again. "Are you sure?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Our rooms are in the opposite wings of the mansion,"
To this, he only shrugged.
"Fine," Rogue muttered and that was the beginning of silence in their walk.
When they reached her room, Scott asked her what all the questions about the cure for their mutation was about.
"Oh," said she, not meeting his eyes once again. "It's nothing, I was just wondering 'cause you know, you're the only one I know who doesn't have a home to go back to, if ever our powers are gone,"
Scott supposed that he was being to slow, because he was just about to ask her to elaborate, when she bade him a quick goodnight and went inside the room.
He sighed and walked to his room. When he got there, he dropped on his bed and fell asleep at once.
And although he only got a few hours of sleep and the vicious teachers at Bayville awaited the innocent students, when Scott woke up, he was in a good mood. For some reason unknown to him, he finished his morning routines humming.
He walked to his closet and a particular sweater, the color lighter than his other clothes, caught his eye. He took it out and put Rogue's gift for him on, and he was ready to tackle the day.
tbc