"Bobby, Can I have a word?"

it was the next day at the Institute, and Rogue had decided to talk to Bobby. He had noticed her becoming a little less…cuddly than before, and she felt that he needed to know why that was.

"Sure, Rogue, what's up?"

"Uhh… in private?"

The pair slowly walked down to the gazebo overlooking the pool. It was a cool autumn day, and Rogue was well wrapped up against the cold in her favourite long-sleeved top, gloves and cargo trousers. Bobby wore a half-zip fleece and a pair of faded blue jeans, but he was obviously unaffected by the ambient temperature. They settled themselves down on the cool wood of the seat.

"I don't quite know how to say this, so I'm gonna say it bluntly," said Rogue. She turned to face him, and captured his eyes, a deep blue, with her own, rich brown. They stared at each other for a moment. Bobby was the first to look away. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his cupped hands.

"You know," he stated. There was a slight hitch in his voice.

"Yes, I do."

"I'm so sorry, Rogue, I really-" Rogue cut him off with a gloved finger pressed gently to his lips.

"Hush your mouth, Bobby, I know how sorry you are. You've already explained." She tapped her head. "You've been driving me crazy with explanations and apologies. You and him both. I had to go and see Jean about you."

"Jean? You brought a teacher into this?"

"Bobby, I had to! I was going insane from what I thought was a callous betrayal, until Jean put it all into perspective for me. And you needn't have worried about me telling you, she already knows. I'd be surprised if there's anything she doesn't know about that goes on in the Mansion."

"What do you mean, she already knows?"

"She told me that she knows you've been crushing on John ever since you saw him."

"What? Oh, man. This sucks. What am I going to do?"

"For a start, Bobby, calm down. I said, it's all right. The way I see it, it's not fair for you to be a relationship you don't want to be in. I appreciate that you have felt affection for me, and I don't want this to sour the good times we had, but you could have told me sooner. It wasn't fair on either me or you. Me, because you were playing me along, and you because you want something you don't think you can have."

"What, so you're breaking up with me?"

"Not really, I'm just… letting go, is all. We'll still be the best of friends, I hope."

Bobby raised his head to look at her for a few seconds, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he stood up, and took Rogue's gloved hand in his own.

"Thank you," he whispered. There were tears forming in his eyes. They embraced, unconsciously making sure that there was no skin-to-skin contact. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, and eventually broke apart. Holding both of Rogue's gloved hands in his, he sighed.

"Right then, are you going to go and put John out of his misery, or shall I?" she asked, jokingly. He looked up, a horrified expression on his face.

"Rogue!"

The others took it rather well, considering.

The majority of the students were shocked, but then decided that a tournament of Soul Caliber 3 was more important than one of the X-Men coming out. He was now sitting next to Storm and Jean, who were providing much-needed support. Rogue was sitting in a high-backed chair with her legs tucked delicately under her, shooting supportive looks at Bobby every so often, while Jubilee yapped on and on. Rogue finally tuned into what she's saying.

"…ot fair on you, chica, to suddenly dump you, and then declare himself gay! I mean, how low can one guy get? That's just wrong on so many levels…"

And she carried on. Rogue smiled to herself, tuning Jubilee out. She'd gotten to the point where she could almost record conversations mentally, and play them back later.

"Rogue, are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry, Jubes, I zoned out there for a second. What did you say?"

"I said, it looks like John wants your attention." She pointed to the doorway of the rec room, where a very serious-looking John Allerdyce stood, leaning against the white-painted door frame, his intense gaze focused on her, playing with his lighter. She raised her eyebrows, in a silent question. What's up?

He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen, an almost imperceptible movement. He then straightened up, and disappeared.

Well, Rogue could follow promptings as well as the next girl. She muttered to Jubilee on the way out, "I'll be back later," and made her slow way to the kitchen. When she got there, she found John pouring boiling water into two large mugs. The smell of coffee soon permeated the air, filling the chrome-plated kitchen with a delicious, welcoming atmosphere. He wasn't smiling. He folded his arms, keeping the coffee mug just above his right elbow.

"Thanks, sugar," she said, reaching for her mug. It was done just the way she liked it, a splash of milk and two sugars. She took a sip.

"Rogue," he began, his face troubled. "What is… I mean, what's… What the hell's going on out there?"

"Bobby came out to the entire school after I broke up with him last week," said Rogue. She didn't like his expression. He looked a little… unstable.

"Well, technically, you didn't break up with him, did you?" he asked acidly, setting his cup down and refolding his arms. His body language was a crash course in hostility, and he was trying to stare her down. That woke up the part of Logan in her, who reared to the surface of her mind, and she reacted with instincts not her own. She returned the glare John was giving her.

"You got something to say, bub, just say it. You have something you want to get off your chest? I'm all ears."

With an effort, she managed to calm the Wolverine down, and he slowly receded from her mind, although not without severe misgivings. John saw the inner turmoil, and decided he wasn't in a mood to care. He took a gulp of coffee.

"If only he knew what this is doing to me. Bad enough that I had to tiptoe around you two trying not to make out, I'm now sharing a room with a closet case who hid his fag feelings behind a girl who he couldn't touch."

Rogue went still, hardly daring to believe her ears. "What did you say?"

"You heard!" he spat, slamming the coffee on the counter. Some of the brown liquid slopped over the sides. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything at that point, except to lash out at a world that seemed to hate him for all it was worth. If that meant that Rogue was his target, well, whatever.

"Fag feelings?" Rogue repeated. She stared hard at him, and made up her mind. If he was willing to fight dirty, so was she. "And this from someone who's been crushing on boys since sixth grade!"

John was about to explode, when Scott walked into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the pair of them glaring daggers at each other over the breakfast bar and their raised voices. He opened the fridge, removed a six-pack of Pepsi, and returned to the rec room.

John was shaking with rage. "How dare you," he began, but was cut off by an equally furious Rogue.

"No, you bastard, how dare you," she snarled. "He's been torn up over you since the day you came to this school three years ago, broken, tired, hungry and alone, having to suffer the torment of watching you grow up from four feet away in the room you two share, knowing that he can never have what he wants, because 'poor little John' is straight and would run a mile if he revealed his true feelings. Let me tell you, sugar, there's four people who know what you're really about in this mansion, and two are in this room. The other two would probably be a lot more diplomatic, but you don't do diplomatic, do you, fag?" she threw the name at him, and achieved empty satisfaction as the insult hit home.

"Cheap shot, Rogue. Real cheap," he spat.

"You want to talk about cheap, sugar? You want to talk about shots? Let me tell you about a boy called St. John. He's a real smartass, a wisecracker who just can't stop throwing sass to the teachers, all because he's a scared, lost little boy. Behind the front, there's nothing, except for a boy who's too scared to tell anyone about all his fears. He sees people talking to their friends, but can't have one himself because he's too afraid that what happened in ninth grade will repeat itself. I've had some real interesting conversations with John-" here she tapped her head, and smiled inwardly as John registered what she meant, his eyes flaring wide in horrified understanding, flashing back to that moment on Bobby's porch, -"and he's not the tough, brazen kid he tries to be. He's a sensitive, caring boy with a heart of gold, and would sacrifice himself for the people at the institute he lives with, but can't call friends because they don't know who the real John is. And he's dead wrong when he thinks they wouldn't care. They would. Starting with me, perhaps, because I know John better than he knows himself."

John was still shaking, but it was from shock, rather than rage. He stumbled over to the dining table, and fell into a chair with less grace than usual. "You know."

Rogue exhaled, and her anger at him escaped her in the same breath. She felt sorry for him, not angry. She didn't understand how she could be angry. "Yeah, sugar, I know it all. Why didn't you say anything?""

"You never asked," he replied. His answer was somewhat muffled, owing to the fact he had his head buried in his arms which were lying on the table. He didn't want to face her, for some reason, all the fight had gone out of him.

She laughed, and he looked at her strangely. "That's what you said before, in here," she said, tapping her temple. "I swear, I'm getting better at this. I can almost predict conversations now."

"And you've known since…"

"Since you decided to avenge an unconscious Wolverine by destroying four police cruisers in Boston, and I had to put out the fires. What made it worse is that I kissed Bobby in his bedroom after I got changed, and found out about him then. That's why I was so quiet while he talked to his parents."

His head dropped back to the table, and there was an audible thump, owing to the fact his arms had moved. He sat up, rubbing his head, and grimaced. "I suppose I deserved that," he muttered.

Rogue nodded, giggling. "That's karma for you," she said. She reached out to his shoulder with her gloved hand, and squeezed it.

"I've been a dick, haven't I?" he asked.

"Honestly?" asked Rogue. "Yeah. A prize idiot. All that matters now is that you two get your friendship back on track. You never know..."

"Never know what, Rogue?" asked Jean, coming through the kitchen with a big plate of cookies in her hands.

"Oh, nothing, Miss Grey, Me and John were just having a conversation."

John snagged two cookies from the passing plate and gave one to Rogue. He turned to look at her, brown eyes meeting brown eyes, and said, "Thank you."