Shout outs! As a thanks to the positive words I got I worked up a second part...basicly again how I'd have ended "Cajun Spice". The Soundtrack for this was Dixie Chicks - I'm Not Ready to Make Nice
lovestoread: As you wish!
Lucia de'Medici: Whoohoo! That's a huge compliment from the author of The Ante. Between that and Arcana Catalogue I feel like I should be pulling a Wanye and Garth crying that I'm not worthy. But thanks ever so much.
4rogue: Thanks...I always worry about my characterization. Given my take on things even though Rogue would be most likely to hold a grudge too...but I think that its more a reflection of the pool of self loathing that Gambit's always carried. That he doesn't think he deserves to be forgiven. I definately agree with the Rogue the Martyr vibe...I've noticed it in the show and fan fic...even my own...this is my response to it. And for all those reasons "Cajun Spice" is one of my favorite episodes ever.
Ishy: Yes I live! Since when do you worry about coherence? I know I've got a lot of loose threads...thats why I'm structuring this for each chapter to stand alone if need be. I'm just trying to get myself writing again you know. I will be trying to get my groove back to some other stuff. But fornow enjoy the posty goodness.
roguescholar: You talked me into it. Enjoy.
Again...X-Men so aren't mine
Two: I'm Not Ready to Make Nice
In every playground in the world there was at least one child just like her; differences in race, sex, language and culture can never change a basic human personality trait. Some people just have to learn things the hard way. Whether it's not sticking ones tongue to a frosty flag pole, sticking to the thicker less likely to break branches when climbing trees, wearing helmets while riding a bike…its always the same. Stubbornness is a universal language unto itself.
As she slipped the Queen of Hearts into the back pocket of her swamp logged jeans and walked through the mist towards her fellow X-Men Rogue couldn't help but kick herself. She'd been attending counseling sessions with the Professor for months to try and get to the root of her issues with Mystique. To find out why the rage Rogue felt towards her adopted mother could have turned so ugly that the Gothic Belle had pushed her stone form off the cliff. Months of sitting in near silence giving monotone answers to questions she didn't want to answer and in the space of a few days and a kidnapping Remy Lebeau had helped her make the biggest breakthrough.
Gambit. She corrected herself mentally trying to keep some form of distance between them…this whole mad adventure felt too intimate for her to have shared with an enemy. An enemy that had seen through her brick exterior and into the little girl that didn't want to be a victim any more…that just wanted to be loved for herself not what she could do. Rogue frowned at the thought but its impact was blunted by the fact that deep down Remy had only recognized a part of himself in her.
"You okay Stripes?" A gruff voice interrupted her whirling inner monologue.
She nodded to the man known as Wolverine-the closest thing she'd had to a father figure in her lifetime. Rogue nodded knowing that he wanted more answers from her but that he wouldn't push her for them-Logan was cool like that. He could also understand stubborn from first hand experience being a poster child for hardheadedness himself. "Yeah…I ain't hurt."
He grunted but the meaning was clear; he didn't believe Rogue as far as he could throw her. Of course not everyone was quite as willing to let Rogue process everything that had just happened on her own…as evidenced by her brand spanking new fuzzy blue barnacle.
"Ve vere so vorried about you Rogue," Her brother by adoption-friend by choice Kurt Wagner hopped along beside her with his tail wagging behind him in agitation. "I'm…"
Rogue stopped and looked deep into his golden eyes-the ones so like his mother's-and laid a gloved hand gently on his shoulder. He flinched under her hand ever so slightly but Rogue refused to let him see that it hurt her. "No Kurt…Ah'm sorry. Ah should never have lost mah temper and pushed Mystique. Ah wasn't thinkin'…Ah was just so…" She swallowed the obscenity that rose to her lips, "Darn angry…about everythang she's done to us…Ah wish Ah could take it back…Ah'd try to make nice…"
"Rogue," He held up one three fingered hand to quiet her; as she stilled the Goth had tp resist the urge to break Kurt's gaze. She was trapped though at her psuedo sibling's unnatural levity. "I know you are sorry…while I don't agree vith vhat you did…I can understand the why. I don't know if I can forgive you…"
Her head shot up as the sentence was pronounced and the world dropped out from under Rogue. Within her emerald eyes the pupil constricted, pulling in as much light from the surrounding night. Crystalline every hair on Kurt's face, the tilt of his blazing eyes-the stillness that was Logan pretending his enhanced hearing didn't pick up every verbal dagger. Rogue could sense the void rushing up at her with hurricane force…then just as quickly she exhaled.
"But I vant to try." He dropped back into motion after the short rope and long drop; the very picture of sincerity. "I vant us to be a family Rogue…"
A planet sized ball seized Rogue's throat in its meaty grasp threatening to ruin her famed composure. She hoped that the ink of the night hid the way her eyes started to glisten traitorously; there was no way she was going to start crying now. She might not stop if she did. Swallowing the lump down forcefully Rogue felt the edge of the card Remy had given her minutes ago. The simple brush of the surface reassured Rogue of the lesson she had learned and solidified her resolve. "Ah'd like that too Kurt."
The makeshift siblings boarded the Blackbird both seeming more at peace with the world and each other. Back in the fold of the family Rogue knew she loved thee was no more escaping the excited questions put forth by Kitty and Jean, or Scott's scowling concern or Ororo's calm relief. The chatter of it washed over Rogue in a tsunami and she welcomed it for the first time ever-this was what she'd been overlooking when she was brooding about the ways the world had done her wrong. Knowing this was a baby step and Rogue was determined to point her God given stubbornness towards taking more steps. She was more than her skin. She was The Rogue. And somehow without meaning to that no good Cajun had shown her that she wasn't alone.