Rogue tugged on the wrist of her brown leather riding gloves, calfskin. She'd gotten a taste of quality leather since the cure wore off. It was as close to skin-to-skin she was going to get. Remy'd been nice about it though, made a joke that she got into his head and stole all his secrets away. He'd even still try to steal a kiss now-and-then, like it hadn't landed them into enough trouble the first time. Their first kiss and her powers came rushing back like a battering ram. Who said she wasn't cursed?

And what was she supposed to do with all his secrets anyway? She'd known he wasn't a boy scout, but this? Genocide was sort of a lot, wasn't it? If his part had been small well… how much did that count for? This was her man? This was the man she'd chosen next to love?

"What does that say about me, exactly?" she sighed at no one in particular. Who could she talk to about this? Wasn't it a moot point now anyway? What did it matter that she couldn't touch him if she wasn't even sure if she liked him?

They'd had run-ins, sure, X-Men meetings and the odd date, even, now-and then, but they'd been avoiding their patent intimacy since the absorption. She knew things she wasn't exactly supposed to know, and he couldn't forgive her that, and she couldn't really forgive him any of it either. So, they'd seen each other less and less, and that's how she found herself here at one of their old haunts, a little neighborhood park where they'd picniced a couple of times.

She remembered when they first met. Fresh off the sting that Bobby and Kitty had made things official after their break up, in strolled the Cajun charmer, flirting with everyone.

"And what's your name, belle?" he'd drawled at her, the words coming out short and thick from between his lips.

"Belle, apparently." She was determined not to be charmed by some sweet talk and pretty face.

He gave a pause and then a good-natured chuckle, and she thought twice about it. He was handsome having been thrown off-balance. "That really your name?"

"Rogue." she replied, and his red-on-black eyes shimmered at her. "Just Rogue."

"Well, that's a fine name for a river rat."

She'd balked, but liked the attention. River rat. It reminded her of the smell off the Mississippi, might not be the best perfume but it was home. "I suppose Remy is a fitting enough name for a swamp rat like yourself."

The pull at the corners of his mouth sent her something straight sin, but she'd resisted it. She hadn't been wanting to let someone new through the cracks and crevices to her heart, but he'd been persistent, ever-present, sexy even, hell he'd been patient, and now she'd never be able to do anything about it.

Well, it'd been a whirlwind few months of romance with him at least.

She was mid-way through another heavy sigh, a breath from so deep inside her it hurt to extract, when he plopped down next to her in the bench with all the grace of a swan diving onto the water.

"I'm in no mood for your antics now, Cajun." she spat at him, her hair swinging at the sharp turn of her head.

"Would you like something more nostalgic?" he replied with Bobby's voice, and Rogue's stomach fell hard with the understanding that this wasn't Gambit at all. His skin got paler and his body less broad, the deep browns of his hair turning fair in a flash of blue scales turning over, and all the sudden it was Bobby's body sitting next to her.

"You stop that now." Rogue's body language gave every indication of uneasiness and even a little fear, but her voice was strong and her eyes shot daggers into Mystique. "Take off his face."

She morphed into John next, and it threw Rogue right out of breath. She hadn't seen him since the day at Alkali Lake when he'd turned his back on the X-Men, his family, and her and Bobby, his friends. "That's not better."

"Pyro sends his regards." He looked older, and Rogue had to suppose that this was how he looked now, but his voice was just the same out of her mouth.

"What do you want?" Her words were low enough to sound something near a growl.

"We want you." Mystique replied, still wearing John's body and voice like a suit. "We want you to join us."

Rogue scoffed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a tilt that threw her hair a veil over her face. She got up to leave, reflexively tugged at the wrist of a glove, when John's voice cut her straight to the bone.

"We can teach you to control it." Mystique offered in his voice, with his lips, from his body.

Rogue couldn't find the air to breathe. The cure had just failed her. Had they known she had taken it? Were they waiting it out? Could she afford to hope again?

Mystique finally morphed into her own body, all blue scales, red hair, and splendor. "Take your time to think it over. We'll see you soon." She just walked away then, blue as the night sky.

Rogue couldn't do it, could she? Turn her back on everything like John had?

"Who would care?" she whispered into the empty space of the park. Logan, she admitted. Bobby too, though she wasn't so fond of him anymore. Gambit might have some words if he managed to look for her long enough to notice.

She pulled off a glove, noting the sunburn that marked the line between where her sleeve ended and glove began. She fingered the leather, trying to remember the feeling of holding Bobby's hand, brought her bare fingers tips to her lips and tried to remember the feeling of his kiss, of Cody's, of Remy's.

Could she afford not to take any chance she got, even this one?