Control.

She could get distracted against Pyro's lips, but her goal was still clear, and for all her progress in sexual experience, she was no closer to control.

They didn't bother so much with sparing now. She kissed him until her chin was raw from the rub of his stubble. She let him kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her neck and shoulders, the pulse point of her jugular that went straight between thighs. She had gotten braver more recently, tugging at the ends of his t-shirts, sliding her fingers underneath to trail the hem of his jeans. He'd return the favor, following her lead. She wanted more, but she wasn't quite sure what that meant. He'd know, she figured, but he clearly didn't want to pressure her into anything, only ever matching her in terms of how far he would take them. Honestly, she was a little afraid to ask.

They were in their usual position. She sat facing him, her thighs clenching into his waist. She traced the slopes of his chest, his abdomen through his shirt. He reciprocated by tracing her spine. She reached down again, and braver, reached two fingers into the gap of his jeans. He followed by reaching into hers enough to trace the hem of her panties. She jumped a little, grinding into him instinctively, letting out a groan when she felt him hard against her through the layers of fabric, impossibly hard. Her head fell away a little. He reached out and left butterfly kisses up her throat, down her jaw line, and then gave her a soft closed mouth kiss before biting her bottom lip. The sound she made was less of a groan this time, higher pitched.

Whether she could touch him skin-to-skin, how long before or if her powers would drain him, seemed to depend on some vague emotional state she couldn't identify let alone manipulate. And worse, she couldn't choose to activate her power against him anymore than she could suppress it with anyone else.

She'd started having training sessions with Mystique too, and had no such luck in touching her without absorption, and given that Mystique's methods were less gentle than her boyfriend's, she was generally glad for the extra layer of armor her powers afforded her. Mystique was a more skilled sparring partner than she had been used to, no offense to Logan. Where Logan was all muscle and determination, Mystique was less a battering ram and more a guided missile. She was fast, agile, and smart. She seemed to always be two steps ahead, dodging just as you started to move for a punch, and kicking you to the ground with minimal effort and plenty of force.

But, Mystique still couldn't touch her. All she had to do was land one punch to wind her, and it would slow her down enough for fuller contact. They were well matched, theoretically. Landing anything on Mystique was a rarity. Rogue chased Mystique, jumping after her and diving for a punch to the abdomen. She missed, and Mystique knocked her in the side during the rebound. Rogue was more likely to land a kick on her, but the cost was higher when her whole leg was left unexpectedly in the air. There was a loud buzz when the hour was up, indicating the unlocking of the room's doors. Mystique seemed never to tire, but Rogue was always completely winded and usually pretty bruised.

"You fight like Wolverine." Mystique commented.

"Except I don't have claws and superstrength."

"We should work on your technique. You need to be more adaptable and you need to learn to move faster. You don't react."

Rogue took her measure. Mystique was right. She did fight like Logan. She didn't have much in the way of force behind a punch or kick, but she had learned to put the whole weight of her body behind every strike. It wasn't impotent against someone like Pyro, who generally avoided hand-to-hand altogether, or even Kurt, who for all his teleportation, tended to come straight at you when he went to land a strike. Mystique's technique was smarter. She dodged until you'd tired yourself out and threw yourself off-balance in the chase, and then all the sudden she was underneath you or behind you, knocking you down. The only advantage Rogue had was absorbing some of that and throwing Mystique back at herself, and Mystique was right, that technique could be learned.

"I think I'd like that." Rogue acquiesced.

"We will start next session with basics. We need to build you from the ground up into a new kind of fighter."

Rogue thought for a second, assessing Mystique. She was evil for sure, but she was admirable too. She was serious and quick witted. She was formidable. Mystique was a powerhouse on the wrong side of a war.

"I want to learn now."

Mystique turned to her, flashing her blue scales into the stilled air, her lips turned into a smirk that rivaled her own. "Is that an order?"

Rogue balked. "No, of course not."

"A favor then?"

"No." Rogue's voice was hard on the denial.

"Then what?"

"You brought me here. Teach me." Rogue tried to put self-assurance at the center, but truthfully she was unsure if this was the right move. But, she knew Mystique well enough by now to understand that she respected strength. Rogue didn't have that in hand-to-hand, but she had potential. She figured she could start with an attitude.

"Why?"

"Because, I'll give you a run for your money once I can land a punch. And then I'll be ready."

"You want to fight side-by-side with us on the battlefield?"

No, she didn't. But, that was the trade-off and she needed the practice. Touching Pyro wasn't enough. "That's the idea."

Mystique gave her a long look, from head to toe, eye to eye, and approached her, turning her back on the exit. "Put your gloves back on. Your lessons are going to change."

Having done what she was told, Mystique continued. "I'll strike, and you attempt to dodge."