Haha, wow, jeez. I know it's been a while, and I'm so sorry, but I've only just begun recover from exams and jazz. Also my internet's down, so I really have nothing else to do. Sadly, not in time for Christmas, but in time for New Year's, at least there's that. Sorry for keeping y'all waiting. Again.

Also, here's a little game I'd like to propose. Anyone who can guess the four (?) reasons behind the name change (I won't tell you which name), gets 1000 Dan Points (as in Dan Bergstein, Blogging Twilight). Anyone who can get three gets 700 Dan Points, two gets 500 Dan Points, and one gets 300 Dan Points. As for the other two names, you get 100 points for any insight into those, but they're not nearly as fun as the first.

Final note: I have made a slight edit to the last chapter, because I was dying inside over Gambit's hair. It was just…not okay. So I changed it. FYI.

Enjoy!

-Forbala-

CHAPTER FIVE: ACCLIMATING

Gambit led his sweet Southern Belle into the dingy apartment building. It smelled of sewage and god-knows-what. There were cockroaches, spiders, bugs, and possibly a rat. Everything was dirty and even the smell seemed brown. Cringing, they went up the creaky staircase, and to apartment 3B.

Knock, knock.

The door opened to reveal a stocky man who, despite his complete lack of hygiene, could actually be quite handsome.

"What the hell—oh! Hey, Etienne, how are ya, buddy?"

"Cut the crap, Basil," Gambit said, pushing his way into the apartment, keeping Rogue close. He peeled her hand from his arm and stood in front of her. "We need completely new identities, an' you're gon' give 'em t' us. Cheap."

"Well, I dunno, Etienne, the cops have been really pressing in. It's been difficult t—"

"Y' gon' do it, or ma belle ami here will jus' have t'…coerce you." Rogue, taking the queue, cracked her fingers and pulled off one glove. This Basil guy didn't know of her power, but he knew Gambit's and the assumption was, she was dangerous.

It was effective. Basil sighed and led them into the next room. There was a desktop computer and a small photo studio—a white backdrop, stool, semi-professional camera, and a photo light.

"Go on ahead and sit down, miss. Right there." He sat at the computer desk and opened up a program, messed with a few things, and then went to the camera. "A'ight, now smile pretty." A bright flash went off and Basil returned to the computer. Typing, typing. "C'mere, pretty, whad'ya think?"

"That's fine," Rogue said, looking at the photo.

"What do you want your name as?"

Rogue thought for a minute. She couldn't go by Anna Marie Darkholme—her human name. "I don't know. What do you think, Swamp Rat?"

"How about Marielle, chere?"

"Okay, Marielle Logan."

"Non, Marielle Picard. I'll be Raoul Picard. Logan can be her maiden name." Rogue looked at Gambit sharply, but said nothing.

"A'ight. Go sit down, Etienne, and we'll be done." Remy put in a pair of blue contacts and after his photo was taken, Basil said, "Okay, now I need y'all's birthdays and birthplaces."

"My birthday's 8/26/93," Rogue said. "Let's say I'm born in…Sumner, Mississippi."

"I'll be born July 15, 1989, in Bowling Green, Kentucky."

"Hon, if you're from Kentucky, you need to fix that tell-tale Cajun accent," Rogue said.

"Non, chere, I spent mos' my life in France with my parents," he said, smiling.

"You still sound undoubtedly Cajun."

Now the thief frowned. "Fine. I'm from New Orleans den. Happy?"

Rogue nodded and Basil at last printed off their new driver's licenses, birth certificates, and Social Security Cards.

"How's dat, Marielle?" Gambit, or Raoul, asked, showing his license to her.

"Well, I guess that's as good as it's gonna get, Swamp Rat," Marielle teased. Raoul made a face, but turned to Basil. They argued over the price, getting quite heated at one point, but finally (after a few stern words from Momma Marielle), they stopped arguing and money changed hands.

Gambit and Rogue descended the stairs and left the nasty apartment building.

"So, Raoul, where do we go now?"

"Now? We need to make another pit stop. We can't go driving around in the Morgan, too many people know me with it. We need a new car."

They hopped in the Morgan and drove to a bank on the other side of town. "What're we doing here?" Rogue asked.

"We need a bank account, chere." They went inside, set up a joint account, and transferred quite an impressive load of cash into it. They also applied for a credit card.

After that, they went to a foreign car dealership nearby. They parked and began to walk around, looking at Mercedes, Porsches, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Jaguars…. Before long a salesman found them.

"Good afternoon, sir. My name is Benny Washburne, nice to see you here."

"Raoul Picard, c'est un plaisir. This is my wife, Marielle."

"Are you looking for anything specific, Mr. Picard?" Benny asked, leaning on a black Mercedes.

"We're not looking for anything particular, are we, chere?" Gambit asked. "I just want somet'ing…je ne sais pas…flashy."

"Oh, hush. We want a good car."

"Well, the Mercedes is a great car. It's beautiful and it runs like a dream."

"I don' know," Gambit said. "Too many people have a Mercedes."

"Ah, so you want something a bit more unique, then," Benny said. He led them through the parking lot and into the showroom. "You'll want to see our more exclusive collection, then. Tell me, what is your budget?"

"Oh, none," Gambit said, grinning. Rogue smacked his arm.

"We're not looking to spend a dang fortune."

"Yes, we are."

"Shut up. You can't go spending all our money on a car, Gam—er, Raoul."

"Mais cher, tu ne veux pas une voiture aussi belle que vous êtes?"*

"Don't try to flatter me into submission."

"How about we discuss prices later?" interjected Benny. "Can I get y'all a drink? We have coffee, sweet tea, water, and coke."

"I'll have a sweet tea, thank you," Rogue said.

"Coke," Gambit said without looking at the salesman. He pulled Rogue to him, intending to kiss her forehead, but she stopped him with a gloved hand on his mouth—however, she did not pull away from him.

"I doubt they'd take kindly to you collapsing in the middle of their showroom, Swamp Rat."

"I'm gettin' ready to spend a very large amount of money. They'll let me do whatever I want, chere."

Rogue did pull away, now, and she began to wander the showroom, Gambit in tow, watching her ass the whole way.

"Oh my god," she breathed. "Look at this one—Raoul."

"Tha's a fine car, chere. I like it."

"It's an Aston Martin, of course you like it." It was an Aston Martin V8 Vantage N420 coupe in black and Rogue was in love.

Gambit opened the door. "Two leather seats, luxury interior. Driver on de right."

"It's British." Rogue looked inside too, and after only a few moments of admiration, she opened the hood and went to examine the engine. "Engine's perfect. Oh wow, this thing must run like a dream!"

"Pardon me, Mrs. Picard?" Benny asked, reappearing beside her. "We don't normally let customers fiddle with the engine."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, closing the hood. "I didn't think, I just got excited. I've never seen an Aston Martin before."

"You seem to know your way around the engine, regardless," Benny said, passing the "couple" their drinks.

"Yeah, uh, my dad taught me all about cars and engines."

"Is he a mechanic?"

"Not by trade, but he improves every car and motorcycle we ever got. We've never had to go to mechanics because he fixes everything himself."

"Well, Mrs. Picard—"

"Please, call me Marielle." Rogue glanced briefly at Gambit, who was pouting, and she had to hide a smile.

"Marielle, then, I think this may be the car for you. You've seen she's got a powerful engine, and a hot little number to boot. I think you'll both enjoy this quite a lot."

They test drove the car, and then went to Benny's office to buy that N420.

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Picard. I hope you'll really love your new car. Have a great day, folks," Benny said, handing over the keys.

Rogue drove the Aston Martin while Gambit drove his most beloved Morgan to a storage locker.

"Gambit—"

"Chere, we need to call each oder by our new names."

"Fine, Raoul. Is it really okay to be spending so much money? I mean, hell, we could've just gotten a Honda—it certainly blends in better—and the storage locker…"

"What would you have us do with the car that is in my real name? Bring it along with us?"

"Well, yeah, I guess that's true. But did we really need such an expensive car?"

"Yes," Gambit said, completely serious. He honestly didn't see the problem.

Rogue sighed and mumbled to herself. "You sure do love your luxuries, don't you? Next thing I know, you'll be buying a big ole house."

Gambit smirked. Maybe he ought to wait a little while on the house, then.

"Awright, chere, let's get dis show on de road."

"Where are we going now?" she asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

"I have no idea!"

Mais cher, tu ne veux pas une voiture aussi belle que vous êtes? = But dear, don't you want a car as beautiful as you are?

Again, sorry it took so long. But look! Look how long it is! I'm sorry, please don't hurt me T_T