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.
Meals were held in the elaborate, restaurant-sized dining room that served as the school's cafeteria. Teachers and students mingled here, but rarely at the same table. It was a surprise to anyone that knew him that Logan was still remaining at the school, but it was not a surprise that he sat by his lonesome, at a table in the corner.
Bobby set his tray down at the table he had frequented his entire stay at the school, one that usually boasted the same crowd of people, even after Bobby's upgrade to teacher. Normally Rogue took the seat to his immediate left, but when moments passed and the seat remained empty, he found himself glancing around the dining room for her. She was laying her lunch down next to Logan, a simple smile brightening their dark corner. Bobby could not repress the tiny twinge of jealousy he felt, one that pricked his stomach lining every time he saw Logan and Rogue occupy the same space. After she'd returned from Liberty Island, so many years ago, after the remnants of Logan's absorbed personality had faded, but the bright white streak in her hair hadn't, Rogue had hero-worshipped Logan. Thought she was unaware of it, it put a damper on her burgeoning relationship with Bobby. It was very hard to compare to a man who risked life and limb to save Rogue's life. At the time, Bobby's control over his own powers was minimal at best.
But Logan's wandering was eventually enough to quell Rogue's minor obsession with him, and at the end of it, the two had become very good friends. It was clear that Logan had suffered the most of any of those who'd walked away from the battle at Worthington Labs, for while they'd come away injured, and had lost friends, and in Warren's case, the relationship with his father, Logan had been left with the duty of killing the woman that he loved. It was a heavy weight to bear, and while he held impressive resilience for physical healing, emotional healing took a lot more than he was capable of. Nor did the sudden change in staff help, although Logan had probably been the one to petition Miss Munroe for Rogue's (and Bobby's) promotion.
Bobby had no more time to dwell on that matter, because Warren, for the first time, had decided to sit down across from him. Warren chose not to go to meals, still the loner, but there was a gaggle of admiring female students who brought food up to his door. Warren was oblivious to the deliveries, still mistakenly thinking it was a courtesy of the mansion. This was the first time that Warren had made a public appearance since his arrival, and Bobby figured it had everything to do with their earlier conversation.
"Hey, man," he said conversationally, "how's it going?"
Warren shrugged one shoulder. "Okay." Bobby wondered if that was the best he was going to get out of him.
To add to the awkwardness, Kitty took the seat that was generally occupied by Rogue. Bobby looked around desperately for salvation in the form of Piotr, but the Russian was sitting at the other side of the room with Jubilee, no doubt trying to avoid the situation brewing at Bobby's table. Bobby had to grit his teeth, and blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Kitty, have you met Warren?"
"Angel," she said, giving him the slightest once-over, before gracing him with a bright smile and extending her hand for him to take. "Hi."
Warren stared at her, deer in the headlights. "Hi."
It was then that Bobby realized the dire conditions of the team, and deemed it a miracle that they'd survived their last altercation at all. It was a president-appointed apprehension of an escapee from a high-security prison, a member of the Brotherhood who apparently hadn't heard the news about Magneto and had gone out to search for him. The guy had power, but was half-insane by the time the X-Men got to him, so it was an easy job.
But the fact of the matter was that Logan was an emotional wreck; as team leader and headmaster, Miss Munroe was biting off more than she could chew; Bobby and Kitty were pointedly keeping their distance from each other; Piotr was attempting futilely to keep the peace between Bobby and Kitty; and Warren was still too reclusive to do anything with them.
"Warren's an amazing flyer," Bobby contributed. He was rapidly developing an aversion to uncomfortable silence.
"Your dad developed the cure, right?" she demanded of Warren, ever to the point. It was all Bobby could do to keep from dropping his head in his hands in frustration.
Warren blinked at the onslaught. "He funded it. Dr. Rao developed it."
"Could we not talk about this?" said Bobby.
"Why not?" said Kitty. "It's relevant. Mutants out there are still receiving the cure. Although it seems pretty cowardly to take it, wouldn't you say?" From the death glare she was sending Bobby, it was clear who the question was intended for.
Bobby said carefully, "It isn't cowardly to take it," looking pointedly at Kitty, "or not to take it," with a sympathetic glance at Warren. "Now can we just drop it? I'm sure there's lots of other stuff we can talk about."
"Did either of you watch Wheel of Fortune last night?" Warren asked seriously. "That bonus round was intense."
Bobby and Kitty stared at him helplessly for a few moments, until the corners of his mouth twitched, and the three of them burst into raucous, uncontrollable laughter. It was such a ludicrous statement that they couldn't not.
From the way Kitty was staring at Warren, and the way Warren was grinning at the both of them, Bobby got the distinct impression that things were not as bleak as they seemed. Over in the corner, Logan and Rogue were laughing together. Miss Munroe stood over a collection of students, smiling, albeit wanly, at a telekinetic's demonstration of a new skill. Piotr at his table was grinning, assisting Jubilee in making a pyramid of the table's glasses.
At Bobby's own table, Warren smiled at Kitty and asked softly, "How do your powers work?"
Kitty beamed brightly, and launched into a complex explanation and analysis of her powers, one that had bored all of her friends a thousand times in the past, but Warren listened to eagerly.
Glancing quickly back at Rogue, Bobby caught her just as she was looking his way. They exchanged private smiles and vague waves, but it was more than enough for him to feel good. It would seem that the mansion was at last healing.
"You never call me Marie," Rogue said to him, over dishes of ice cream in the kitchen.
Bobby spooned himself another mouthful of vanilla, letting it melt on his tongue. His love of ice cream had been present long before his powers had made themselves known; there was a messy incident at the age of six that could attest to this. The other students always figured his regular cravings were a side effect of his mutation. As the resident Iceman, he had an entire freezer dedicated to his personal pint stash. His favorite was vanilla, which dominated the contents of the freezer, but he had also tucked away the favorite flavors of his friends: Neapolitan for Rogue; coffee for Piotr; mint chocolate chip for Kitty; a long-untouched Rocky Road for John that he just hadn't been able to throw out.
After the ice cream had turned into soup in his mouth, he swallowed, and said, "When we first met, you introduced yourself to me as Rogue." At the time, he had pressed for her 'real' name, but had grown to accept that the moniker was just as much a part of her as the white hair, or the Southern accent that flared to life when she was particularly angry.
"That was years, ago, Bobby. Everyone else calls me Marie nowadays."
"Well, I'm not everyone else. I'm your boyfriend." He licked more ice cream off the tip of his spoon. "Do you not want me to call you Rogue?"
"That's not who I am anymore. I used that name when I was a mutant."
"Right, and now you're not. Look. If you don't want me to call you Rogue, I won't."
"Please, call me Marie," she said.
"Okay."
"And stop licking the spoon like that," she said. "You're giving me ideas."
"Oh yeah?" he said, grinning. He licked it again, enjoying whatever torture he might have been inflicting.
"I'm serious, Bobby."
"Or you'll do what?" he retorted.
"I'll think of something." She rose, gathering up their bowls, and snatched the offending spoon right from his fingers. She went to rinse them out in the sink, and when she turned around, Bobby was waiting for her. He pressed her against the fridge, assaulting her mouth with his own. She murmured in weak and insincere protest, but kissed him back. He finally released her, and she gazed up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Bobby, we're in the kitchen," she chastised.
"You started it," he said, but he obligingly took her hand and led the way back to their room.
"People are starting to talk, you know," she said, the door opening behind her. They stumbled into their room, giggling like drunken spring breakers.
"Let them talk," said Bobby. Long overcome with desire, he tugged at her shirt, but she darted away from him. "Oh, come on!" he said. They chased each other back and forth around the room like small children. Rogue jumped onto the bed for safety, and Bobby launched himself after her, only to miscalculate and slide off the mattress. Rogue was doubled over with laughter by the time he finally joined her, and they lay next to each other in varying states of dress, breathing heavily and too tired to do much else at that moment. Bobby rest his head against her shoulder, touching what bare skin he could find.
Rogue squirmed, tittering. "Your hands are cold."
"No duh," said Bobby, nuzzling into her neck. He ran his fingers down the length of her torso, over her hip, and as far down her thigh as his arm could reach without him putting forth extra effort. He let his hand rest heavily on her leg, cooling her warm skin. "We should get married," he said.
Rogue sat up, and Bobby's hand fell out of her lap. He quickly brought himself to her height; she was blinking at him. "Are you serious?"
He hadn't meant to blurt it out when he had, but to be honest, he'd been serious about it since he was seventeen. The most beautiful girl he'd ever met had agreed to be his girlfriend, and the world in front of him seemed endless. He'd pictured her in a giant, frothy, layer-cake wedding dress that his mom passed down, with Kitty as the maid of honor in pink (not because Rogue liked pink, but rather because she hated it and would want to make everyone suffer), and John as best man. Of course, a lot had changed since then. Bobby's family called a SWAT team on him. John joined forces with Magneto. Rogue and Kitty had a falling out over, of all things, Bobby. But through all of it, Bobby's love for Rogue had not changed.
"I'm serious," he said. "Will you marry me?"
Rogue's fingers went to touch his jaw, hot against his face. "Yes."
The laugh bubbled out of Bobby with the force of Mount Vesuvius. He kissed her, melting inside her mouth the way the ice cream had melted in his. They were both still chuckling at nothing. "I don't have a ring or anything, but I can get one," he promised.
"That's not important," she told him.
"Of course it is," he said. "For the first time, people are getting to see your hands. Make them look."
Rogue laughed again, looping her hand behind his neck and pulling him down to the mattress on top of her. They made love, giggling ridiculously throughout the entirety of it, and Bobby, for the first time, called her Marie.