Disclaimer: anyone I gave a full name for is property of Marvel. Some of the students I made up myself; any similarities to already-existing Marvel characters are coincidental and unintentional.

Rogue was arranged cross-legged on Bobby's mattress, waiting for him when he returned. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm beat; Logan's brutal." He collapsed wearily on the bed, and Rogue lay down obligingly next to him. "You know, I busted my ass trying to save the entire human race, you'd think he'd cut me a break." And with the sentence past his lips, Bobby at last realized why he wasn't entirely comfortable with Rogue's curing, which should otherwise be a happy event for him. He felt, in a word, betrayed. Rogue had abandoned the X-Men in their time of need, after they were already short Scott and Jean, and were having enough trouble staying together as a team to begin with.

Rogue's curing was all well and good for her, but the team had needed her. Needed any sort of number, needed any sort of edge. And she had left them without. Permanently. How could he not feel betrayed by that?

"I'm taking the job," said Rogue. "I'm going to teach English." She smiled at him. "Gonna be the youngest teacher the school's ever had. But I guess it's not so much a compliment as it is desperation. You're the one they really want, being a physics genius and all."

"I wouldn't say genius, exactly," he answered with a teasing smile. He tilted his head, and they grinned at each other. "Teachers," Bobby echoed his statement from earlier in the day, finding it sufficient both then and now. "Wow."

"Wow," she agreed. "Storm wants to move us into the administrative wing, free up the space."

"Pete's gonna have to find a new roommate," said Bobby. Piotr had moved in with him after John had left, and Bobby was eternally grateful for the other man's support.

"It's more than that," said Rogue, her voice fluctuating slightly. "We're going to be moving into Scott and Jean's old room."

"Oh." That wound was too fresh. Of course, there had been a long gap since 'Scott and Jean' had had serious meaning. After Dr. Grey had died at Alkali Lake, Mr. Summers had been a ghost of a person, getting worse and worse. He'd been dead long before the funeral. And Dr. Grey's rescue hardly heralded the return of the person that had greeted him every day with a warm smile. She, too, was a shell of a person, her real soul trapped behind her eyes. Fighting against the X-Men without a second thought, and scaring the living crap out of the school's students. The people that represented so much to this school, Mr. Summers and Dr. Grey, had been dead for years before their headstones were placed in the garden. But even so, there was a certain apprehension surrounding what had once been their room.

"But," she said. "We're going to be rooming together." She turned pink. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, I'm okay with that." Bobby kissed her. "Last night was the best night of my life. Minus the part where Logan almost killed me."

"He didn't almost kill you. He just sort of glared at you."

"I of course had to fall for the girl who has a giant, scary Wolverine protecting her."

"Says the boy who rooms with Colossus," she teased, "who is, as you'll recall, sheathed in metal, and has the relative power of an entire football team."

"Hey now," he said. "Now I room with you. And you're about as threatening as a—"

Rogue laughed. "As a what?" she demanded, but he answered her by half-pinning her to the mattress and kissing her again. He liked this, being a normal relationship, where he could follow up the banter and joking with a well-earned kiss. Or several. Several lengthy ones, with adolescent groping. Bobby hadn't been an adolescent for awhile, and it felt good to catch up.

They went at it for some time before they were interrupted yet again by the door opening. Bobby jerked himself to his feet with surprising agility, Rogue slinking into the shadow he cast so she could straighten her shirt and smooth down her hair. But it was only Piotr, twirling a basketball effortlessly on the tip of his outstretched finger. It rolled out of his grasp when he saw Rogue, Bobby, and evidence that he might be interrupting something. "Oh, sorry." He coughed. "Rogue, I understand you got the cure."

"Yeah," she said. "You're not morally opposed to it or anything, are you?" Bobby felt a twinge of guilt for his earlier thoughts. Rogue was having to deal with enough. While he was being attacked by Logan in the Danger Room, she was being attacked by her fellow students and people who were once their friends.

But Piotr smiled at her. "No," he said. "If I was in your position, I'd do it, too."

Rogue's face flushed with relief and gratitude.

"Although," Piotr continued, "I will miss fighting alongside you in the Danger Room. You were an excellent teammate."

"Aw, Petey, how sweet," she cooed with Southern charm as she rose from the bed and held out her arms. "C'mere and give me a hug." Piotr eyed her bare arms with trepidation, but she only smiled. "I won't hurt you. Not anymore."

Piotr approached, and had to crouch somewhat to embrace her, but he did so with relish. Pure glee splashed across Rogue's face, delight at being able to hug someone without worry or consequence, at the casual way the skin on her arm brushed against the back of his neck. Bobby laughed. "Hey, break it up," he said, punching his roommate's shoulder halfheartedly. "That's my girl you're manhandling."

"Of course," said Piotr. He released Rogue and straightened with a genial smile. "I also hear you're moving to the administrative wing."

"Is anything a secret in this school?" Rogue asked, sitting down on Bobby's bed once more.

They didn't even grace the question with an answer.

"Should I leave you two alone, then?" said Piotr.

"No, it's cool," said Bobby. "We were just going to go grab some dinner anyway. Wanna come?" That hadn't exactly been the plan, but Bobby felt bad for forcing Piotr to find a new roommate. He'd been living in a single when John had left, and now he would probably be forced to share a room with someone like Guthrie, who had the codename Cannonball and the personality to match. Bobby at least owed him a pizza for that pain.

Besides, he thought, more at ease than he'd ever been, he had the rest of his life for Rogue.

Miss Munroe moved Bobby and Rogue into their new room just in time for the start of the new semester. "It's all new," she promised them, with a vaguely glazed look that indicated that she had the same superstitions about her dead friends' room as the rest of the school did. "New furniture, new paint job, everything."

She smiled, but the reservation in her eyes indicated she still wasn't thrilled about two (former) students in a heavy relationship moving in together. Bobby figured it had to do with Rogue's lack of powers. He wondered if Storm still resented Rogue ignoring her passionate decree that the x-gene was not a disease, or merely if she was concerned that the two of them would be up to serious hanky-panky that would be a horrible influence on impressionable young mutants.

Of course, Bobby and Rogue did little to soothe Miss Munroe's conscience, taking their relationship to the next level that night and christening their new quarters. The first time was embarrassingly, but not unexpectedly, awkward and fumbling. The next few times were far more respectable, as they stayed up all night to rectify the situation.

The following breakfast, they were groggy, but satisfied, and made no effort to hide their sin, much to the amusement of Piotr, who sat opposite them with a smirk.

At first glance, Piotr gave off the impression of a silent Russian soldier. Tall, broad, severe, and imposing. But those who knew him knew his secrets. Piotr liked to doodle, usually cartoons of his mutant brethren, and he held a mastery of the English language that was on par at least with Bobby's own. He even had slang phrases down to a science, and never let cultural gaps hold him back from the ever-changing lexicon. Like Bobby could turn his Boston accent on and off, and Rogue kept her Southern drawl under wraps, Piotr's Russian accent was something he kept hidden, but could pull out when needed. He didn't use it then, instead feigning almost-innocence as he said, "As my teachers, you know, you're not setting a very good example."

Bobby arranged his features into a stern expression. "Mr. Rasputin, are you getting bad ideas?" he said. "Everything you do is a reflection of this school, you know, and as such, you need to project the very best image of propriety." He seemed to recall this speech, or something similar, directed at John (and Bobby on a few occasions, usually under John's influence) by the senior staff several times.

"That's not what you said last night," Rogue said, slapping her hands against the table as though she were the bandleader of a late night talk show. "Oh! Burn."

"Do you see what you've done?" said Piotr. "You've turned our dear, sweet Marie into some sort of sitcom character. And not a very good one, either."

"Well, you know me, I do love my bad girls," said Bobby. He narrowed his eyes at Piotr in the best facsimile of seriousness. "Now get to class."

As Piotr mocked scrambling in fear, Rogue kissed Bobby's cheek. "That's how you start off the semester," she said. "Striking fear into the hearts of the student populace."

"Yeah, I'm gonna get it next training session," said Bobby.

"I'm taking a mental picture of you now, to remember how pretty you once were."

The next handful of days were spent adopting a new routine. Bobby and Rogue parted ways after breakfast to teach, and Bobby took training sessions in the evening. He worked himself to the bone to hone his powers, but fortunately the X-Men had only been called into action once for a minor altercation. The team was now comprised of Storm, Wolverine, Iceman, Shadowcat, Colossus, and Angel; the first three of which, in addition to Rogue, made up the administrative staff. Logan, much to the surprise of anyone who knew him, had been there for a handful of months and had yet to run off. At night, Bobby and Rogue confined themselves to their room, making love in between grading homework assignments.

Bobby trudged to the elevator after a long day, heading to his room in the administration wing, when Warren got on at the last second. Bobby had first unofficially met Warren Worthington when he arrived at the school mere seconds before Miss Munroe's decision to keep the place open. He'd hovered in the doorway, using the wooden frame to block from sight his stunning white wings. Bobby had later seen those wings in action, the span of which was wide enough to fill the entire hallway they were currently in. But in spite of them, Warren seemed perpetually sad, carrying a certain heartbreaking quality to him.

It was unusual for Warren to be in this hallway ever, because he took up residence in the top room of the southernmost tower, the room with easiest access to the sky. He had only ever gone through two sessions in the Danger Room with the full team, and preferred to spend his time wandering the mansion like a ghost, the effects of Alcatraz etched into his face. Though he hadn't battled, his last name carried far worse scars. Several of the students glared at him as much and as harshly as they glared at Rogue. They extended Warren only the courtesy and grudging respect due to an X-Man, or in Rogue's case, a teacher.

Bobby, on the other hand, found that he found a real ally in Warren's quiet, unobtrusive manner. So he asked him, "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Warren said. Bobby really had to focus, because Warren's voice was low and soft. "You're... Well, you know my dad. Everyone does."

"Yeah," was all Bobby could answer.

"That one teacher, Marie, she's your girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah," again.

"She's the only person I know who got the cure," said Warren. "And, well, um..."

"How's it going?" guessed Bobby.

Warren smiled sheepishly, barely even a flash, but still far more smile than Bobby had yet to witness from him. "Yeah," said Warren, his turn to play with the word.

"Do you know what her power was?"

Warren shook his head, the light catching his hair, combined with his obvious innocence to give him the true effect of ethereality. "No."

"When she touched people, she absorbed their memories. If they were a mutant, she absorbed their powers. She also drained their life force. Hold on too long, and she could kill you."

Warren was very good at reading Bobby's tone, no matter how casual he'd tried to make himself sound. "I imagine it wasn't easy for you as her boyfriend."

"Not exactly," Bobby agreed. "But it was worse for her. Wanting to touch, and knowing she never could without hurting the people she loved. And now she can. So, to answer your question, it's going great." Bobby chewed his lip for a moment, trying to figure out how best to phrase what he had to say. "The intentions behind the cure weren't the best, but the cure made a lot of people happy."

"Thank you," said Warren.

Bobby's smile in response was tired, but genuine. "I'll see you later, okay?" he said. "Maybe you and I can do a one-on-one session. I'd love to see what you can do. Those wings are amazing."

Warren glanced over his shoulder at them. "My dad wanted me to get rid of them," he said.

"Are you kidding?" If there was any mutation that would be the most worthy of parental pride, Bobby figured wings would be it.

"I was supposed to be the first recipient of the cure," said Warren, "but I chickened out." His lips quirked. "Get it? Chicken. I flew out the window. I love my dad, but... this is me. These," he lifted his wings, though he didn't extend them to their full length, "are me."

Before Bobby could comment, Warren's sad expression returned, and he blinked at something beyond Bobby's shoulder. Bobby turned to find Rogue staring back at Warren. From the look on her face, Bobby could only guess how much she had heard.

"I should go," said Warren awkwardly.

"Yeah," said Bobby, already advancing towards his room. "I'll see you."

Bobby was two steps behind Rogue entering their room, and he gripped her wrist and pulled her towards him in an embrace. "Hey, you."

"Hi," she said, but she seemed disinterested.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. How was training?"

"Fine. How was class?"

"Fine," she said. "I decided to do a Shakespeare unit. The full works. We started the comedies today. Midsummer Night's Dream."

Bobby dared to smile. "Lord, what fools these mutants be." Just as Rogue was beginning to relax and smile again, predictably, there was a knock at the door. "That's probably one of them now," he said. "One of your wayward students, begging for instruction."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not here."

"They'll find you eventually," he said, but he went to the door anyway.

Kitty waited on the other side.

He spared a tiny glance to see if Rogue was watching, but she was ducking into the bathroom. Bobby slipped out of the room and quietly shut the door behind him. "Kitty, what's up."

"I need to talk to you," she said.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, wondering why everyone wanted him today. "Yeah?"

"Rogue got the cure, huh?"

He didn't even know why she was asking; it was one thing for Warren, the new guy as well as the loner, to not know. But there wasn't a senior student who didn't know the whole sordid tale. Especially people like Piotr and Kitty, who were, or at least, had been, in Rogue's inner circle. "Yeah," he said, "she did."

"So you two are still together."

"Yes."

"Oh." She flapped her hands uselessly at her sides. "I just thought, you know... after the fight..."

"You thought what?"

"I thought that you and I would be, like, a thing."

Bobby tensed, his shoulders falling back and his arms tightening over his chest. He glanced up and down the hallway to see if anyone was watching. "Kitty, I'm a teacher," he hissed. "You can't... We can't..." He sighed, gathering his thoughts. "You're one of my closest friends, and I know things got sketchy between us for awhile there, but... I'm with Rogue."

"So you were leading me on," she said.

"I didn't mean to," he said. He felt a punch of regret, thinking of every second where he had been around Kitty and wondered what it would be like to actually get to touch someone every time you wanted to. What those moments must have meant to Kitty; what they had meant to him. There had been times where, holding Kitty's hand, he'd wondered if this was what he wanted.

But at the end of it, there was only one face, one smile in his mind that he was willing to work for, to fight for, to wait for. "Really, Kitty, I didn't mean to hurt you. You're wonderful, and I like you a lot, but—"

"But you have a girlfriend. I got it. Thanks for nothing, I guess."

He grabbed her elbow as she exited. "Kitty, come on. We're still friends."

"I wanted to be more than friends, Bobby," she said, then turned away from him.

Bobby sighed and watched her leave, wondering if their friendship was damaged beyond repair. But Kitty, he knew, was incredibly resilient. She'd recover, in time, and there was no more he could do but hope that time came soon.