I'm holding the ten-year-younger Rogue in my arms, both of us kneeling on the floor. I'm hearing her prayer and realizing that one little pep-talk wasn't going to make this girl instantly see that she has better options. Then, suddenly, there is a flash of light and it's still Rogue in my arms, but I immediately know she's back.

And then my heart stops because she's crying like I've never heard her cry before. And she never really cries much to begin with, making it all the more startling.

Her voice is fraught with tears. "Ah loved you, Remy. Ah always loved you. Even when Ah hurt you, it was because Ah loved you… Ah just didn't know how to take care of you," she shakes her head in despair.

Her arms grip me so tightly to her that I can feel the desperation as well as hear it. The back of my head is cradled in her hand, and I'm tucked into her embrace like she's trying to shield and protect me from something.

Sobs rack her shoulders and tremor through the curve of her spine, and my body responds. I gather her to me tightly, trying to anchor her back down to reality, to home, to me.

"S'okay. S'okay now. Y'okay, Anna."

As soon as she hears her name, she stiffens and suddenly pulls away to stare at me. The tears are streaming down her face. She is momentarily stunned and confused, but she understands now that she's back. Only the tears don't stop. If anything, they become worse. She apologizes to me as she's stroking my face – for what, I'm not really sure.

It's only after hearing Dr. Strange's explanation that the toaster is a time traveling device that I can begin to guess her encounter with my past self may have been similar to the one I just had with hers.

It had been a cold, hard look at our past hang-ups, and the realization that the problems we postpone resolving in ourselves end up hurting the person we love the most.

It's either that, or she may have accidentally killed me. This is the only reason I can imagine she'd be crying this hard, professing she loved me and apologizing. Her unprecedented time travel may have inadvertently brought about my untimely death.

But I don't know how time events would exactly shift if that were to happen. My only solace is that Dr. Strange didn't seem too concerned. And that Rogue would have probably said no to the ice cream if the younger me had indeed died in her arms just minutes ago.

After Dr. Strange had left, Rogue had gone into the bedroom to clean up and get changed. When she doesn't come out even after some time, I find her passed out on the bed, still in her party dress, heels discarded along the way from the bathroom to the bed. She is curled up on her side.

I climb in next to her and check to make sure she's just asleep.

Maybe it's a side-effect from traveling through time. Maybe it's from emotional duress.

She washed off the streaks of mascara that had run down her cheeks. But not a very thorough job as the circumference of her eyes are still stained with make-up, making her look dark and broody. I brush the hair out of her face and rub my thumb across her cheekbone, and she stirs awake.

She blinks, and looks at me sleepily. Her eyes don't waver from mine though.

"Hi," she finally says.

"Hi."

"How long was Ah out?"

"'Bout 30 minutes?"

She sighs. "Ah guess the banquet ain't happenin'."

I feel a little guilty about how I went about it earlier. "Sorry, chere."

"You ain't sorry," she says in a resigned tone, but her mouth twitches into a smile.

"I'm sorry f'givin' you a hard time."

"Why were ya so resistant about goin'?" Her expression is more contemplative. "Ah know ya explained it to me, but those reasons don't seem all that important enough for you to behave this way."

I tuck my arm under my head, resting my cheek on my bicep, as I look at her. "Anna, everyone's interested in havin' you as their muscle. And maybe it's selfish, but I just… you're my wife. I know it shouldn't, but it feels different now having you out dere, fighting someone else's battles."

"It ain't someone else's battles, Remy. It's ours."

"Sometimes, it is. Sometimes, it isn't. Dere are always people wit' deir own agendas, and if I see y'hurt because of it, I think I might lose it. Like, straight-up, lose it."

Her expression is tender. "That goes for you, too. Ya think Ah like it when someone hints that they need someone to break into somethin' or do the shady work no one's willin' ta do? Ah avoid eye-contact. And if they actually have the balls to suggest it outright, Ah kinda go bat-shit crazy."

I smile at the thought. I stroke her face again. "Dat's what m'saying. Going t' Krakoa means we're on everybody's radar. Not jus' de X-men's. Everybody's radar."

She nods, looking perplexed. "Ah get that. But just stayin' here while everyone's there… that just doesn't feel right. Besides, maybe this time, it really will be different."

I sigh. "You wan' to go?" I ask her. If this makes her happy, who was I to take that happiness away from her?

She shakes her head. "It ain't a matter of wanting to…" she starts to argue and just stops short.

"If y'want t'go, den let's go, chere."

She grows silent, looking down at the space between us. "Ah… Ah came here – to our building – ten years ago."

I realize she means that she came here while she had been transported in the past.

"And Ah was so happy when I saw the building, like Ah couldn't stop smilin' when Ah saw it. But…" She takes a moment to think, and her lips turn into a soft smile. "Remy, if this were like a couple years ago, before we were married, there would be no question in my mind about goin' to Krakoa. The only thing keepin' me from goin', the only reason Ah wanna stay is because Ah'm happy here. Ah like it here. This past year, with you, here, has been as close to paradise a girl like me can wish for. And Ah know for a fact, there ain't anythin' that Krakoa can offer me that's better than this."

"Den we should stay. You deserve t'be happy."

She shakes her head, jaws set stubbornly. "But Ah feel like that's why we gotta go. This thing is bigger than us. You and Ah somehow lucked out on findin' happiness in this messed up world, but you know most mutants ain't as lucky. An' us stayin' here is just bein' complacent and selfish, and Ah know Ah won't be able to live long with myself like that. Ah'm gonna end up drivin' ya up the wall, Remy. Ah can see it as plain as day."

I sigh. She wears that halo so well.

"Y'gon' drag me out wit' you an' make me a hero, ain't ya, mon amour?"

She shakes her head. "You do that fine on your own, sugah."

I smirk and roll onto my back, looking up at the ceiling. "So y'came here? Into de apartment?" I ask her. "How'd you get in?"

"Ah was with a thief."

"Ah," I nod in understanding. I pause. "Me, right?"

"Yes, you," she sighs.

"An'… I'm still okay, right?" I cautiously ask.

She blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Like I didn't… nevermind." I decide that I didn't die while she watched, and Rogue broke down into a watery mess for other reasons.

She readjusts herself on her side to align her face closer to mine and smiles softly. "Can Ah confess somethin'?"

"Hm."

"Ah had a big, ol' crush on ya."

I nod in a business-like manner. "I know."

Her smile turns stale. "You're sucha jerk."

"Dat's why I did de right an' honorable thing an' married you, chere. Knew I ruined you for other men."

"Gawd, you really are the worst," she snickers.

I glance at her airily. "What were y'expecting?"

She makes a face. "Ah don't know. 'Ah had a crush on you, too'?"

I shake my head, clicking my tongue. "Dat would be lying. An' we all learned a valuable lesson in lying today, didn't we?"

"Ya know, if we get ready now, and Ah fly real fast, Ah bet we could make it to that banquet…"

"Sorry."

She smiles slyly.

"Y'know I fell in deep wit' you de second you strangled dat first kiss out of me, chere. Dere wasn't any time f'crushing, f'me or f'you."

She thinks about it. "It was a pretty hot kiss," she allows.

I look at her with exaggerated surprise. "Oh, are we admitting we remember it now?"

She nods begrudgingly. "Ah thought about it. An' it's either that or the one right before the Crystalline Wave hit, and Ah don't know if the first kiss that left ya in a coma for three weeks is that much better."

I think about it. And I remember the earth had shattered after it. "Okay, I was wrong. We should definitely count dat one as de first kiss."

"Spoken like a true masochist."

I turn back to my side, propping myself up on my elbow, facing her. My hand falls on her waist. "Can I confess something?"

She leans in closer to me. "Hmm."

"Every kiss wit' you feels like de first."

She shakes her head slowly. "How do ya do it? It's amazin' ya can say that with a straight fa…"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence because I just draw her forward and lock lips with her. I feel her mouth immediately respond. Her hands quickly go around my head and pull me in closer.

And I know she's only been away for 20 minutes, but I had a lot of strange epiphanies about her during that short time. So I'm not just kissing Rogue, my wife of one year, but Rogue, the girl whose heart I broke, and the one who broke mine, and the one who came back and pieced it back together again.

The way she kisses me with just as much aching tenderness, I know it is loaded with her own set of epiphanies as well.

We pull away, licking our lips, looking confused and feeling strange.

I sigh, pulling my arm around her and tucking her into my side. She leans her head on my shoulder, lays her hand on my chest, her index pensively drawing random figures over my pec.

"So…" I finally say, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "How was I?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Uh… what?"

"Don't front, chere. I can taste de nicotine off y' lips."

"Oh." She pauses for a moment. "Um… eager?"

I chuckle.

"How was Ah?" she asks me in turn. Before I can say anything, she says, "Ah can taste the cherry-flavored chapstick Ah used to wear."

I smirk. "Eager."

We finally both chuckle.

"You think we've gotten a little boring?" she asks me.

"Dat eagerness stems from sexual frustration, chere. I don't think I can handle going back t' a life of always trying not t'think 'bout sex when I'm wit' you."

"That was you always tryin'?" She emphasizes it for good measure. "Always. Tryin'?"

"You didn't exactly make it easy f'me."

"That's 'cause makin' things less easier for you was one of my daily chores around the mansion at the time," she says. "It was scheduled right in between lunch and trimmin' the hedges."

"Well, den, a job well done," I reply with a wry smile.

She doesn't answer right away. She leans forward, nuzzling her face in my neck. "Ah kinda regret it though… Ah wish Ah could have tried harder to get to know ya instead. Like, really know ya."

"Dat wasn't y'fault, chere. You can't get to know someone who don't wan' t'be known."

"Maybe not at first. But," she sighs. She starts randomly drawing figures on my chest again. "Ah was too self-involved. Everybody's load appeared lighter than mine. And Ah guess Ah was too focused on what you weren't givin' me, that Ah couldn't really see what Ah wasn't givin' you."

I clench my jaw shut, closing my eyes. I wind my finger in front of her, indicating for her to speed it up.

She glances up at me. She grabs my finger. "So Ah'm sorry for all the times Ah left ya hangin'. Please forgive me."

I exhale and say in a blasé tone, "I forgive you, chere."

"One day, we should really discuss why this is so hard for ya."

"I just don't appreciate apologies in words as much as apologies in deeds."

"An' by deeds, ya mean…"

"From you? Sex."

She rolls her eyes.

"So, chere, how 'bout you show me how sorry y' really are."

She groans at the tastelessness.

And I think she's going to leave it at that. But suddenly, she turns her body so she suggestively molds her front against my side, one slim leg wrapping around mine.

"Ah'm sorry, Remy," she exhales sexily. She runs her hand down my front, then skips her fingers down the happy trail, thigh rubbing up and down against mine. "Ah am so very, very sorry. Please… please forgive me?"

I exhale.

"Like this?" she snickers against my ear.

"Oui, but less talkin'."

I roll on top of her, grabbing her by her ribs, and she squeals in surprise.

I remove my hands from her ticklish ribs and lean over her, propping myself up onto my outstretched arms. I watch her below me, framed between my hands, hair spilled out over the pillow, wide, smoky eyes that almost take up half her face and a brilliant smile splayed over her lips. The short skirt of her dress has climbed up past her hips and bunches at her waist, and I finally see the banding of the black see-through lingerie she said she had such a hard time getting on.

"Dieu, I must have lost it when I saw you," I murmur to her.

Her smile softens. She unbuttons my shirt, one at a time. "Actually, ya were quite the gentleman. Or ya know, tried your hardest."

"Hmm," I raise my brow. "I'm impressed by me."

"Ain't ya always?"

I chuckle. She tugs me down by the parted front of my shirt until I'm lying on top of her.

"An' Ah hope ya were a gentleman to the younger me, Gambit." A mild threat lingering somewhere in there.

I smirk at her. "Of course, chere," I feel down her body as I stare at her lips. "I didn't have de heart t'deprive your first experience from de younger me."

She just smiles, a faraway look in her eyes. Maybe thinking about her first experience. I pull away for a spell, and her attention is drawn back to me.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask her.

"Hmm."

"Did you enjoy our first time? In Antarctica?"

"Yeah." She nods slowly. She shrugs. "Ah mean, Ah really had nothin' to compare it to… but all things considering, it wasn't bad."

Her voice is surprisingly casual, but I'm not sure if she's just saying it for my sake.

"I just… I never wanted…"

"Ah know," she says with a very certain smile in her eyes. "Ya wanted things to be special. Because Ah wasn't just a one night stand or a quickie in an alleyway. Remy LeBeau had plans for me even in our relationship's infancy."

I nod. "Dat I did."

"What exactly did ya have in mind?"

"Candlelight dinner, slow R&B and jazz, 1200-thread-count sheets, pretty much de whole nine yards."

"Aww," she crinkles her nose. "But that sounds kinda boring. Not everyone can say they lost their virginity in Antarctica, on a cold, hard, cave floor, chained, with an audience in earshot."

I sigh. "Y'know dere was a part o' me dat secretly hoped dat one day we'd be able to look back an' laugh 'bout Antarctica. But you spellin' it out dat way is hard t'hear even sarcastically."

She smiles back at me. She strokes my hair and her eyes follow the movement of her fingers.

"All jokes aside, Ah do actually count it as a good memory, not a bad one. In fact, Ah'd probably even go as far as saying it was one of the best memories Ah have of us, if we're just countin' that moment."

"Dieu, chere. I hope dis ain't a roundabout way of tellin' me dat's how low your memories of us go."

She chuckles, shaking her head. Then she shrugs. "Ah suppose anyone with an ounce of decency would have figured it wasn't the time an' place to do the deed there. But…" She takes a pause as she thinks about the next words that she is about to say. She gazes at me with a naked earnestness that reminds me of the innocence she once had. "Ah didn't wanna be decent. Ah just wanted you. An' nothin' else mattered."

Her words voice something that I wasn't ever able to express myself. But now that I've heard it, I know I had felt the same exact way. When she didn't reject me, suddenly, I wasn't the only crazy one. She and I were crazy together, and it felt too good to be true. So good that I got afraid. But so good that the feeling would stalk me for all my days afterwards.

And somehow, she is still here, still alive, despite the extremely dangerous lives we lead, saying the prettiest little things to me.

I reach down and hold her face between my hands. My thumbs stroke both her cheeks, pulling her in close.

"I need you," I tell her evenly, a little matter-of-factly.

She considers my words and the strained look in my eyes curiously.

"I need you, Anna. It don't matter where we end up, but I just… need you to be okay," I stress the end, as if saying it can actualize it.

She looks at me, a little taken aback by the gravel in my voice. She copies me and holds my face with both her hands and gives me a smile.

She tilts her chin and kisses me softly against my lips.

I kiss her back, and finally wrap my arms tightly around her. I pull her head into my neck and kiss her against her hair.

She chuckles softly. "Ah'll be fine, Remy. Ah swear you're the only person in the world that didn't get the memo that Ah'm invulnerable."

"Dat jus' means they know to come at you packin' bigger, stranger weapons."

She sighs. "Ya know, they say the Professor found a way to resurrect mutants from the dead now."

I shake my head. "No resurrections. You live and fight like dis is de only life you got. You understand me, chere?"

She nods. "That goes for you, too, sugah. No resurrections."

I take a deep breath and pull away from her to look at her again. I clear my throat importantly. "Den, I hereby pass the first law for de LeBeau household in the event we find ourselves in Krakoa. No resurrections – we live, we fight and we love like it's our first and last. All in favor, say 'Aye'."

"Aye," she resounds.

"Bon," I give a nod in satisfaction and pull back to straddle her thighs. "So now that dat's settled, we'll move onto the next matter dat has been on my mind for quite some time now."

"Which is?"

"How complicated dis thing really is," I run my hand up her exposed hip, stroking the strappy black lace with my thumb.

She chuckles, throwing both her arms up and folding them on top of her head. "It might be like a lingerie-version of the Chinese finger trap."

I politely raise my palm to her. "Chere, y'can stop selling it. I'm already very interested."

She gives a silky laugh, and reaches around her side and pulls down the zipper of her dress. She shimmies it up her body. I help her pull it over her head and groan in approval at the reveal.

She's a perfect hourglass in the strapless one-piece. The lace covering her front is mostly see-through. Strips of black banding wrap against the underside of her breasts, criss-cross at the sides of her ribs and finally meet at a V low on her navel. The high-cut leg opening showcases the snow-white skin of her waist and hips and legs, interrupted only by a strip of black wrapped high around each thigh, nestled against the curve of her butt.

"Y'know… dis kinda reminds me of…"

"Psylocke's old uniform?" she finishes. "Yeah, Betsy sent it along with the dress. It's supposed ta keep everythin' in the dress in the event any impromptu fightin' were ta break out.

"Girl's a genius."

"Girl's gonna be pissed is what, 'cause we ended up bein' no-shows for this one, too."

"So we'll owe her one." I lean over her, kissing along her collar and down her chest, as my fingers feel out the material. I give it a pull and a tug here and there, but the thing doesn't budge. The straps and fastenings are airtight. "Interesting."

"Ah think ya might need T.K. to get it off," she teases.

I raise an eyebrow. "Dat a challenge?"

She laughs sultrily. "Sure. Ah dare ya to get it off in under 60 seconds. But you're disqualified if ya use your powers."

"My interest is piqued. But I ain't sure what I'm being qualified for."

She runs a toe up the back of my leg. "Ah'll give ya a "World's Best Husband" coffee mug."

I chuckle. "Try again."

"My undyin' love and adoration?"

"Thought I already had dat?"

"Okay… then…" She dips her head, runs her lips along my ear and whispers something that almost makes me blush.

I nod sagely. "Dat'll do."

She laughs. Before she realizes what's happening, I flip her, pin her down, tug at a concealed strap that runs up her front and middle that apparently tethers everything together and she unravels before me.

Rogue looks stunned.

"Now, 'bout what y'were saying…"


FIN

Author's Note: So this was my attempt to somewhat explain the eventual strange behavior that Rogue and Gambit will exhibit in Excalibur. Rogue perpetually looked pissed because her happiest days were behind her when she lived secluded in Tribeca with just Remy, and she sacrificed that to throw herself back into a community lifestyle, which turns her into the emotionless bitch she was in Excalibur. Gambit's worst fears of Rogue being used as an unwilling pawn in Apocalypse's games come true and Rogue being stuck in a box make him so desperate to yell "I told you so!" to someone that he turns into the whiny bitch he was in Excalibur. The lingerie that Betsy gifts Rogue and Remy turns out to be the item that started it all, where they feel obligated to help her by joining up Excalibur in the first place.

Sorry folks. I tried my best. This is the best I could do.

That being said, I really enjoyed writing this chapter! My favorite part of writing Rogue and Gambit is their dialogue. I actually delete a lot of dialogue before it goes up online because I'm afraid it might detract from the plot and get boring if it's too dialogue-heavy. But I just love writing it. So that's what this last chapter was, just them in bed, talking. And you know, getting frisky.

Anyway, please leave me a review and I'd be eternally grateful. I also have one more short Epilogue coming up, which I will put up very soon.

All characters are owned by Marvel. Oh and Remy's "I need you" line was inspired by a heartbreaking episode in Peaky Blinders. I just couldn't help myself.