Sorry for any spelling mistakes guess. My computer's graphics programs all got deleted, so not only can I not see images in 4+ colors, but I can't play audio, video, or use spell check in firefox and my Word program is jacked up too! TTTT Just bear with me. I'll try to...erm...sound things out? xD

p.s. I just found the line break button on the document editor! xD

DISCLAIMER: Don't own X-Men.

Rogue drove down the road, hoping to find Gambit's car. Her cheap stick shift "ghetto-mobile" as Bobby liked to call it purred and whined as she forced it down the stretch of road in the middle of motel country. She was looking for the bike that would defenitley stand out among the ones of the locals.

She envied that bike. After memorizing every curve and knick in the pain, every detail to it, she was easily able to pick it out of the twenty other bikes parked in a side lot at a lit up dive that flashed "SCUZZY BUDDY" in pink neon letters.

Remy would. She thought, smiling inwardly. Turning her car in, she could see that she would stand out. It wasn't that she looked 19 or that they thought her to be a stranger in their small town, the bar keep was quite friendly, it was that she was the only one fully clothed. Her long tunic like shirt had a few tears in the seams, but nothing that was lethal to the large men sitting at either side of her at the bar. The studded belt that she sported gave hint to her hard edge, goth days as a teenager, and tight black jeans tipped with classic converse were a staple in her everyday wardrobe. She felt nearly comfortable sitting at the bar. But nothing could stop people from wondering.

She was, after all, wearing black leather gloves in eighty degree summer heat. Rogue dropped her head and brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes as the bar keep asked if she wanted a drink. "Yes. After the week I've had...a Mike's would be great."

Not bothering to ask her age or for I.D., the guy handed her a Mike's Hard Lemonade and popped the top off for her expertly. "There ya go, little lady. Is your accent...Mississippi? You a down south girl?" He asked, politely smiling at her. "Why yes. Yes I am. Thanks so much." She gave him a confident wink and pointed to her drink. "I'll letcha know if I need another."

Rogue turned away from the bar and walked away. Dammit Gambit, where the hell are ya?

She picked up one of the pool ques that were just across the room, put her drink on the wooden ledge, and began a game with herself and a biker's wife. "So, hun, where ya from?"

"Mississippi originally. But right now I'm a student in the city." She said, lining up her shot.

"A Mississippi girl, eh? Girl like you came here alone?"

Rogue slammed the stick into the center of the pearly white ball infront of her, sinking two solid colored balls. "Well, sorta. I'm kinda meetin' someone here." She said, her confident look giving.

"Oh. Which one? Where is he? I can tell ya right now what he's up too, hun, I know every regular and hoodlum in this bar and they're all here tonight."

Rogue started to laugh. She hoped Gambit was not a regular at this place, because if he was, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what he did in his drunken spare time. "I hope that ya don't know him. He's 'bout six-three, brown hair, great body, usually wears a trench. He'll be drinkin' a Corona or a Genuine."

"Oh. You're with Hotshot, eh? He's been slammin' em in billiards for the past hour. We're startin' to think he's a mutant with pool powers." She said laughing. Rogue gave a weak smile. She prayed to God that the kid wasn't doing anything stupid.

"Where'd he go?" She asked.

"Said he had business to take care off out back. His bikes here though. Mack, the greasy guy behind the bar, is holdin' his keys. You wanna play or what, hun?" She said with an even bigger smile.

Rogue loved people like this. The ones that could tell she was different, who knew it the second that she walked into a room, and didn't give a damn. The people that could sit and talk to her like the human being that she was. And not just her for that matter, any mutant. These people were the ones that she fought for.

Gambit stumbled back inside. He wasn't drunk. He knew he wasn't quite there yet. But he wanted to be.

His life seemed to be spinning out of control. He was falling in love. He as apart of a team. And now he was bonding with his team mates. What the hell was wrong with him?!

Jean-Luc had taught him to be a Theif. Heartless, emotionless, uncaring, self-interested, and brutal. Had the X-Men honestly managed to break that training? In such a short amount of time he felt his heart coming back to life after being dead for so long and for some reason he wasn't willing to surpress it.

But now, he was bracing himself on a pool table, four away from where he watched Rogue play. His brain didn't process his thoughts right away. They were floating in and out, like words that he could just barely make out in the static.

She's beautiful. I want her. I need her. I'm in love with her. You're drunk, homme. But I know I do. She missed. She's drinking. She's beautiful. I love her.

"Je t'aime." He said, before pressing his lips against hers.

Rogue laid Gambit down in his hotel bed. After recruiting Jake to help her get him out of her car, into his room, and after his motorcycle that got left back that the Scuzzy Buddy, she sat on the edge of Gambit's bed listening for his breathing.

She cast a longing gaze back over her shoulder. "What the hell were ya thinkin', Cajun?" She shook her head and looked away from his beautiful face.

What the hell was wrong with him? He just took his sweet old time tripping over his own to feet, mumbling to himself, as he made his way over to her table. After lining up her shot and missing the sink, she stood to find him imposing and looming over her. The only clear words that she'd gotten out of him were "I love you" in slurred French.

And then his lips pressed against hers.

She didn't know if it sent the shock down her spine like she always read in novels. The first kiss was supposed to be long, tender, amazing. Nothing like what her kiss were and would always be. The second that his wonderful lips hit hers, the absorbtion began.

Everything was just a huge blur. The best way that she could possibly describe it was a drunken viewing of a soap opera in reverse. She could feel the alcohol pouring into his veins and the thoughts racing through his head. She could never grasp any of it until after he had let go of her and stop the flood of emotions and memories.

And the one thing that stood out in her mind was "I'm fallin' in love with her...No. I am in love with her." And then the maddening urge to drink.

Rogue took a deep breath and laid down on the opposite side of the bed where she tossed Gambit, not daring to look at his face. She didn't want to think. Didn't want to breathe. And most of all didn't want to acknowledge the burning in her cheeks, or the pounding of her head, and the lurching of her heart.