AN: A one shot, I hope everyone enjoys it. This is from the original X-Men cartoon, not the X-Men Evolution or any other version that has come out recently. Rogue and Gambit are both adults in this. Oh and I'm sorry if I didn't get Gambit quite right, he is a difficult character to write and I haven't seen the show in a long time.

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The day started off normal. Dodging various students on their way to classes, running errands for Doctor X, and helping out around the mansion/school. It was something about seeing the various students shaking hands, slapping each other on the back, getting each other's attention by touching their arm. Something about seeing the basketball players as they maneuvered around the court, the volleyball players as they ran into each other and fell to the ground laughing. All of it just seemed to remind her of what she couldn't have.

Most people who attended Xavier's school for the gifted find not only acceptance but also understanding. Almost everyone could relate to one another. Most had experienced similar circumstances as their new abilities surfaced. No one could fully relate to Rogue. Skin to skin, something most don't even think about, shaking hands, playing sports, doing a friend's hair, and many more simple interactions, all were denied her, and no one could really understand.

The most painful thing for her to witness, the thing that sent her running from the mansion seeking solitude, had been a more private event that she accidentally found herself eaves dropping on. Scott and Jean.

They were simply enjoying each other's company, sipping wine, talking, and laughing. Then Jean playfully sapped Scott before he reached over and, gently cupping her face in his hands, the laughter had died, the wine sat before the fire forgotten ad the two and leaned forward to exchange a romantic heart-felt kiss. Rogue had been unable to bear any more; that was what she wanted, that was what she could never have.

Eventually Rogue found herself in Central Park, slowly walking the many paths hoping to lose herself in the green surroundings in the solitude of nature. Her luck though, just wasn't with her that day. Somehow, despite the fact that Central Park was large enough a person should be able to find a spot to be alone, everywhere Rogue turned she found couples. Couples holding hands, couples kissing, there was a little old couple feeding the birds, gaining comfort through the contact of their bare arms.

She couldn't help it, she was jealous. Humans by nature are a tactile species, they need to touch each other for some basic emotional comfort. They need to feel wanted or needed by another's companionable touch, and Rogue felt denied this. Most were afraid to touch her unless there was something between them, and even then they tried to avoid it.

Finally, Rogue found a deserted bench. Resignedly she sat down and laid her head back staring into the beautiful blue sky. So many saw her as a threat, someone who was privileged, because she was the one of the most powerful mutants alive, capable of borrowing any mutants power with a mere touch, of course the ones she borrowed from were left weak and unconscious, and if she killed them this way, oh then she was even more lucky, more to be envied. Envied, that is what they called it, because by taking their life, she kept their power. Envy? This was nothing to envy. How could they envy her when the only time she touched anyone she was killing them, even friends and allies?

Rogue looked down at her hands laying limp against her knees. Slowly she began to remove one of her gloves. The hand revealed was pale, the fingers long and finely boned, her nails were short but neat. How could any thing so delicate, so normal, be so dangerous.

Though she fought it, Rogue soon found herself in tears. Slow tears that she at first didn't realize she was shedding. These were not tears of self pity, but rather tears of farewell. She was saying good bye to all the dreams a girl has: farewell to love, farewell to a man's touch, farewell to dreams of a family and farewell to romantic nights with the one you love. None of it could ever be hers, not now, not ever.

"Ah, Cherie, here you are," a distinct French accent brought her out of her reverie. "You know, you should be more careful, this Gambit could have been a bandit."

Gambit stood next to the bench on which Rogue sat. Trying to wipe away any evidence of her weakness she tried to sound normal as she said, "Hey, I can take care of myself," but the words came out weak, lacking the conviction they normally would have contained.

"Mayhap, Gambit's more worried for the bandits." Casually Gambit sat himself down next to her on the bench and stretched his long legs out before him. "This is quite a romantic spot you have found. Perhaps you were waiting for Gambit to join you?" He reached his arm around her shoulder and held her affectionately, "Waiting, for a kiss?"

Oh yes, Gambit, her impossible suitor. She never could figure the man out. Did he attempt to court her as a sadistic joke, rubbing her nose into what she could not have? Or was he trying to lighten her mood, in a misplaced sort of way? The one thing she knew was that he couldn't be serious. That is what hurt the most, because she wished he were serious, not just because it would show that someone were willing to look past her abilities, that someone saw her in a normal light, but also because she liked Gambit, perhaps a bit more than like. He was a great man. Too bad she couldn't risk it.

Throwing of his arm and ignoring his hurt expression, Rogue stood. "I don't want to deal with this right now; I can't kiss you and you can't want it any way. It's just not worth it."

As Rogue began to turn away, she felt him grab her by the shoulders and forcibly turn her around; she was so startled she didn't even think to resist. "For me, it is worth it." And before she could respond she felt him press his lips to hers. She was startled, she didn't know what to think, Gambit took full advantage of her surprise, with skill he teased her lips, with force he demanded of her and with his tongue he begged her. She knew she should push him away, to save him, but she couldn't, she didn't want to, this was what she wanted: his lips against hers, his arms around her waist holding her against his body. She found her hands wrapping around him as she began to kiss him back.

The sensations he caused completely overwhelmed her so that she didn't even feel his power draining into her. At length he pulled back and with the most cocky, yet satisfied grin on his face he said, "You see, was worth it," and promptly collapsed, unconscious.

At first Rogue was unsure what had just happened, she was too surprised by her second kiss, her first kiss in ten years, but she quickly found herself at Gambit's side. Frantically she checked for a pulse, careful to use her still gloved hand. It was there strong and steady. Cradling him against her chest she carefully lifted him from the ground and flew him to the institute.

For a full day she waited by his bed, frantically looking for any sign of wakefulness. She did not sleep that night for watching over him. She felt like she was considering the same questions the entire night: why had she let him do it? Why had he wanted to? And what was she to do now that she knew how much she had enjoyed it?

No one asked what had happened, and when she told them, no body blamed her, but she blamed herself. She knew this would happen; didn't it happen to her first boyfriend, during her first kiss? She knew better.

It was nearing dinner time the following day when Gambit first opened his eyes. "That, ma cherie," he spoke without opening his eyes, he knew her too well and knew she would be waiting by his side, "was the best kiss Gambit ever had." There was a pause in which he savored the memory, a big smile gracing his features. With an impish grin he looked her in the eye, "You want another?"

Rogue couldn't believe it, he wasn't even out of bed yet from his first coma and he was asking for another? She laughed and he smiled back, a smile that was different from what he had shown her before, a smile that made her melt inside. He would get his kiss, but not now, he would just have to catch her at the right time.

Was it worth it? Maybe, it was.

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