It was a classic Saturday night.

Not that anything bad ever happened on a Saturday night, but for the past couple of weeks, there had been nothing. Surely, people just did not wake up and choose to live happily with her kind all of a sudden. Did the world somehow become a better place or was it just the silence before the dawn, she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she was slowly losing her shit.

Sitting on a wooden bar stool at Harry's Hideaway, Rogue took a quick glance around the bar. It was a crowded night, men twice her age were staring at the women on the dance floor with hunger in their eyes, women that were obviously intoxicated and… careless.

Careless. Something she had never been for a long time.

With a long, deep sigh, she ordered her second drink for the night. A Southern Comfort, which wouldn't be such a surprise. She thought maybe she was just homesick –not that there was a home back in the South. She had her home here in New York nevertheless, but after all that happened for the past years… She just wasn't sure it felt right.

"Harry," she called out, after taking a quick sip from her drink and staring at the friendly face of the bartender. "Any news on him?"

The brown eyed man put down the glass he was drying and put his hands on the bar table. "Aye," he stated, lowering his voice as he leaned towards her. "I heard he's going north."

North, like Canada? What on earth was in north? It wasn't like Logan liked travelling, taking pictures and sightseeing, there just had to be something. Rogue frowned, her gloved finger drawing a circle on the glass. "What for?" she asked out loud, making the old man shrug. "Damned if I know," he answered before he began to wipe the counter.

"Thanks, sugah," she smiled sadly. Logan could be anywhere up north, going on a finding trip was just an insane idea which could possibly result in a major failure. On the other hand, staying at the mansion was beginning to feel like slowly drowning on a shallow body of water. It was beginning to lose all its purpose, with Xavier gone, Jean gone, Logan gone… and Bobby gone.

Okay, so Bobby wasn't entirely gone. Things just didn't work out when her powers came back, not when she could easily see what he could actually have with other girls, which she couldn't give to him. A simple thing, yet so hard for her to give –touch. She repressed a bitter laugh, how naive she was to think all of her problems could vanish away with the cure. Everything that made her the Rogue was gone with a simple injection. Oh, how she wished she knew.

All lasted for less than two months. From the moment she told him she got the cure, she thought she could have it all. The normal, the average, the one basic need of humanity; she thought she could have it with him. She was so naive to think she could give it to him and he thought so, too. They believed that they could cherish it together, one by one.

Her green eyes never leaving the drink in her hand, she lifted it up and gulped it less than a couple of seconds. Nah, it was too sweet and she was in the mood for something more. A couple of beers, maybe? That was probably what Logan would want. A fancy gin tonic, perhaps? Was that what Erik would have? She sighed loudly, no it should have been about her wants and her needs and wanted something rough. She ordered a Scotch and she regretted as soon as she took a sip. Fucking hell, why would anyone on earth willingly drink this? But it was rough, it was bitter and it was often okay to numb the guilt.

She remembered the moments of short-lived joy. At first, it was simple gestures like holding hands and stolen kisses, mind you, without the fucking gloves. It was beginning to feel normal, she was beginning to feel normal. So, they decided to take things slowly further.

"We're not going to do anything you're uncomfortable with, Marie," Bobby had said, touching her cheek with his thumb. They were going to do it, she was finally going to give him what she thought he had wanted –what any man would have wanted.

Marie had smiled faintly, before giving him a quick peck and nodded her head slowly. She was more than ready, oh he had no fucking clue. The kiss began soft and gentle, everything with him was like that –easy. He kissed her neck and her collarbone, she let out a soft moan as her back touched the silky fabric of the sheets. His mouth began travelling down to her breasts, his blue eyes were shining with excitement as he looked up for more approval to see if it was okay.

She nodded again hastily. After wanting something for so long, she had no patience left in her bones. She wanted to know how it felt, to feel the pleasure of taking and giving both. His hands were everywhere and she purred happily as they finally reached to her jeans and pulled them off of her.

He gave her a reassuring smile as his fingertips touched the fabric of her dark green underwear. Heavens to Betsy, she was finally doing this.

It was getting better by every second, she was enjoying the softness of his hands, the touch of his lips upon her skin… and there was a knock on the door.

"Don't," she whispered with a kiss on the mouth, distracting him from the door. "Don't answer it." But he seemed distracted from her, instead. He was kissing her back, but he kept glancing up at the door. Marie insisted on keeping his focus on her as her lips caught his in a hot, passionate kiss. She thought she was winning but the person on the other side of the door was not giving up, either.

Bobby sighed as he postured himself to get up, making her fiesty green eyes narrow at him. "What?" he mouthed, "It could be important, babe."

She rolled her eyes and made herself invisible under the cotton sheets. Even though the door wasn't directly located through the bed, being smart wouldn't hurt.

"Bobby!" A feminine voice with a shriek. Oh, who could that be.

"Kitty, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, dummy." Who even talked like that anymore? "You totally promised to come with me to the airport, remember? We're picking up my friend that I told you about. He's literally dying to meet you!"

A long fucking pause.

Rogue exhaled the heavy scent of the smoke around her, it wasn't a surprise that basically everyone at the bar smoke or vaped. Rubbing her temples, she fought the urge to roll her eyes at the lingering memory. Bobby had fucking left, now that was a surprise. Because it was important to her, she had thought it was important for the both of them. But he had mumbled some weak apology and left with his friend just because he had promised earlier, and thus leaving her half naked on the bed. Always trying to be this good guy everyone made him of.

How pathetic.

No, how pathetic they both were at that time.

She grabbed the glass next to her gloved hand and gulped it down. Yup, apparently that was how people became alcoholics, because it felt actually good. So good that she had actually spent half an hour just getting lost in thoughts and drinking.

"You know, p'tite" a husky voice brought her back to reality. "It's not really polite t' drink other people's drinks."

She slowly looked up from her drink, to the man that was… she guessed he was talking to her and cocked her head. "Now, what makes you think it's your drink, sugah?" she asked sassily, hand finding its place on her hip.

An amused smile appeared on the stranger's face. "Cause' I ordered it," he replied with a shrug and grabbed the empty glass, lifting it up in a dramatic gesture. "And I only drink bourbon."

"Oh," she frowned as her eyes lingered on the empty glass in his hand. She must have drank her own, Harry must have taken the empty glass, and then she stole someone else's drink. Great, how noble of her. "Ah'm sorry, let me fix that," she gestured the older and shorter man for another drink. "Harry, sugah-"

"Non, let me," the stranger insisted and also addressed the bartender. "Bourbon, make it double."

The brown haired, short man looked at the two with confusion and grabbed the fancy bottle of whiskey and served two glasses. "Rocks?" he asked before adding whiskey rocks to the glasses, sending them both to their way.

Rogue leaned against the counter to see the man she accidentally stole drinks from. He was tall, with long and thick brown hair and… well, couldn't exactly see his face because of his shades, but she could tell he was a handsome man with fine facial structure. "Thanks for the drink, sugah," she stated, one arm hanging on her bar stool casually. "And the one before that."

He let out a chuckle, his nearly gloved finger playing with the glass as he was staring at her through the shades. "Always a pleasure t' fancy a fellow southern," he said lightly. "Mississippi?"

"Born an' raised," she answered proudly, her chin up. "Ah'm guessing it's… near the swamp, say Louisiana?" she raised an eyebrow playfully.

Another chuckle escaped from his lips as he gave her a little nod. She smiled to see that he wasn't offended at all, but rather playful and at ease. "Now, ain't it strange for us two southerners to meet far from home?" he took a sip from his drink nonchalantly. "Must be fate."

"Fate?" she smirked. "If Ah had my druthers, Ah'd say blind luck." She was going to sit here and feel sorry for herself anyway, might as well do it with some company, and he was a fine looking company, she might've added.

"My peré always told me I was a very lucky homme, chére," he smiled, a devilish one that caught her breath. "And you just made 't all true, and it's comin' from a place that don't believe in fairytales."

"Bless your heart, Cajun," she rolled her eyes with a light smile. "As cheesy as it was, ah'm flattered."

"Eh, since we're givin' each other pet names," he smirked, his glare set on her face. "The name's Gambit," he extended out his nearly gloved hand towards hers, head cocked to one side. She would bet some bucks that he was checking her out behind those shades, as she was now doing the same.

"Ah'm Rogue," she gave him a brief glare, shaking his hand slowly. Her emerald eyes lingered on his appearance. That was one of the some basic tactics she learned from the danger room sessions; always mark your opponents' main features in overall, in less than ten seconds. What she could say about Gambit was tall, handsome, lean and mysterious. He had this dangerous vibe around him, too. But it was something she couldn't exactly say without actually knowing. "It's an interesting name, Gambit," she added with a curve of her lips.

"Can say the same about yours, Rogue."

She bit her lip hesitantly, before deciding to be flat about it. "Mutant?"

He examined her sharply, his hand touched the side of his shades. "Oui."

She nodded, the Logan inside her brain approved of her sudden boldness. Because normally, she would not ask that out of the blue, just cause it didn't matter. She was always a fierce supporter of equality, race and all didn't matter as long as there was respect. She never feel the need to ask someone of that. But at some bar, with a random stranger… Well, better be safe than sorry.

"So, Gambit," she muttered casually, playing with the half full glass. "Is that why you wear the shades?"

"Oui."

"Look around, sugah," Rogue smiled softly, an eyebrow popping up as she gestured the crowd. "It's dark as hell, you're welcome to take 'em off, if you'd like."

One mutant to another, there shouldn't have been a problem. The things he saw, the people he had met were to be abstracted into one word; he'd say "weird" just because mutant kind was strange and extraordinary. He saw women with multiple arms and men with six eyes, not the mention some strange genitals. Compared to these features, his red on black eyes were like a strawberry on a cake –nothing that he should've been hesitant to display. However, it always had been a sensitive subject for him.

He gave her a small pout, considering the thought before slowly taking them off and waited for the popular reaction; however, she was thrilled by the sight of his eyes. Red irises on onix black, shining fiercely in the dim light. She realized that she was holding her breath and exhaled in amazement.

Gambit looked at her with interest, trying to decide whether she was put off by his eyes or maybe actually liked them. Just as he was going to wear his shades again, she put her gloved hand on his and mouthed what sounded like a 'dont'.

She cleared her throat softly, took her hand back and offered him a smile. "Ah dont see why you're wearing the damn things," she said, eyes lingered on his own. "They're beautiful."

She might have sworn that she saw a faint curve of a smile on his lips. He gulped down his bourbon and pushed the empty glass away a little. "Sorry to disappoint, but 't's not a very common thought, chére," he added, matter of factly. "B'sides, it's good t' lay low sometimes, eh?"

A small, faint whistle escaped from her full lips. "Lay low? Who are you, Cajun? Some gover'ment agent or somethin'?" She raised her eyebrows at him, gloved fingers tapping the counter.

He smirked dangerously at the accusation. "A government agent, me? Non," he replied in all honesty. "Jus' a businessman."

"Alright," she cocked her head. "Business as in?"

"Art collectin'," he added, leaning back against the uncomfortable stool. "Not a borin' one, t' be honest. Gambit creates his own agenda, nobody to answer t' and the job has some perks that allows me meet une beauté extraordinaire like you."

"You're something for an art collector, Cajun, Ah'll give ya that."

He smirked, beckoning the bartender for two more drinks. Harry pushed the full glasses towards them and turned to tend to other customers seeing as it was a heavy night, the bar was more crowded than the usual after all. People were dancing everywhere, even some couple next to them were lap dancing each other on their stools. But nobody minded the two southerners, aside from the envious stares of some women who tried to catch a glimpse of the Louisiana man.

"So, what's with the gloves, chére?"

Rogue turned her attention back to him before taking a long sigh, her thin gloved fingers were on the tip of the glass. "It's my mutation," she began, a sad look appeared on her emerald green eyes. "Can't touch someone without hurtin' 'em."

Okay, that had to be the worst rock bottom when it came to flirting. There were common red flags that he would usually try to avoid like clingy women who believed in love at first sight or watch too much rom-com's. He avoided fairly young women, too –simply because he was kind of a man of honor and he believed that innocence doesn't go well with his taste in bedroom.

However, he was staring at this young woman's emerald eyes deeply, his red irises were looking at her as if he saw her soul. "'m sorry, p'tite," he muttered and he was genuine about it. Not because her mutation was completely a bummer, but also not being able to get physical would probably terrible.

She shrugged. "Dont have nothin' to be sorry 'bout, sugah," she pouted. "Can't control it, took the cure… only to find out it's all comin' back. So, Ah'm really sorry about that."

"So it's not permanent," he frowned, giving her a puzzled look. Worthington Labs was sure to advertise the injection through the last dime of their wealth, it was actually a big surprise that it was a failure. Yet again, the mobs of mutant kind was enchanting enough to surprise him, he did have some connections that did not want this injection to succeed, either.

"Yup."

"How long did it last?"

"About two months," she took a sip and made a face. Okay, this round of drinks definitely seemed stronger than the first. Did he order another bourbon or was it just her imagination? "It wasn't worth all the chaos Ah had to face, really. And it's not even completely back, nothin's ever certain or right with this cure, let me tell ya."

"Not completely back, eh?"

"No, yes," she shrugged before taking a long sip from her drink recklessly. "Ah dont know, Ah'm afraid to find out Ah guess," she admitted with a sigh as his eyes captured hers for the moment, he studied her. Red eyes on green and green eyes on red. She didn't want to look away, nor she could. There was something soothing and exciting about them, at the same time. It was when she realized how good looking he was. Nah, she already knew he was fine as hell. But it must have the amount of drinks kicking in now or something, but he was smoking hot.

He seemed much older than her, however he seemed fresh and handsome. Like, celebrity level of handsome. Well, unless if they wore long leather jackets, drank lots of bourbon and smoke cigarettes at random bars at Salem.

"Why did y' take it, p'tite?"

"Hmm?" she was brought back to reality, blinking heavily as he chuckled. She blushed a little at the thought of him realizing her sudden and obvious stare.

"The cure."

"Oh," she gulped down her last drink of that night –she hoped it was the last, because Lord help her if she started to feel a little lightheaded. "Ah told ya, couldn't touch people."

"Oui, but what happened to 'em after y' touch 'em?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay, you want the full story," she muttered, her palm supporting her chin on the counter. "Ah absorb life force, put people into a coma if Ah touch 'em too long and if they're mutants, Ah absorb their powers, too."

Tea party and spilling secrets with a stranger at some bar, how very proud Logan was in her head. She remembered how good it felt to have them completely removed, even if it only lasted for two months. Even when her powers were coming on and off, the voices in her head was there from the moment the cure started to wear off. She could tell Erik was already telling her to shut up and act like an adult, from way back of her mind. Well, fuck you, Erik and go to hell.

That seemed to shut him up, good.

"Ce n'est pas si grave, p'tite," he replied after a long silence "If you knew how t' control 'em."

"Ah'm not sure what ya just said, Cajun," she quirked an eyebrow. "But Ah don't have any control over it. So guess Ah'm livin' with these forever," she raised her gloved hands and gestures towards the gloves. "And you know the worst part? Last two months without my powers were like shit, Ah really hoped it'd be otherwise."

He gave her a meaningful look. "What did' ya do?" He asked, minding his own drink before taking a quick look around the bar. The cons of being a criminal, the best of his own line of work anyway, was to always stay alert. He had to learn how to divide his attention, try to focus on many different things at once. While his main interest was still on this strange, yet gorgeous woman in front of him, his senses were still sharp as a fox.

"Ah touched people, obviously," she rolled her eyes faintly. "Wore no gloves, kissed my boyfriend," Well, ex-boyfriend, but that wasn't important now. "Just tried to live a normal life," she added swiftly, not willing to talk about the subject any further.

"Your boyfriend, eh?" His eyes roamed on her face, looking for a clue and grabbing a cigarette and a matte silver lighter from his pocket. The way he lit the cigarette seemed very charismatic and she didn't understand why, especially since she always told Logan to quit smoking. "Where is he now?" he asked, cigarette sulking from the side of his lips as he put the lighter back in his pocket and let his eyes roam around the room for the dramatic effect. "Gambit don't see him 'round, p'tite."

Rogue frowned. Was that an accusation or was he just curious? Not that she had to explain herself to a complete stranger she met at a bar, but she felt obligated to speak her mind. And everything seemed so easy with him, strangely she didn't feel like she was having a free session with an enigmatic therapist at the bar counter. It could be due to the fact that he was also a southern, or maybe his charming persona, but he seemed likeable. And she could add the word, hot. Even his third person point of view speaking wasn't a turn off, she found it pretty amusing to be honest. "Well, he's at home," she said with a shrug, things weren't smooth between her and Bobby. But what was smooth in her life, anyway?

"Do y' tend t' go out a lot when he's at home?" His eyes were shining dangerously at her, she didn't know why she was feeling the way she was. Her stomach was twisting and she realized that she licked her lips a lot, he must've realized this, too, as his eyes lingered on her full lips.

She bit her bottom lip as he kept his attention on her lips. "It's complicated," she managed to let it out. Everything about her was so damn complicated. Last years' events, let alone, was enough to be depressed. Grieving people's deaths, Logan abandoning her to live his life rightfully so and Bobby cheating on her with her friend. How could she even begin to tell? No, it was more like why would she even begin to tell? "It's a long story, anyway."

"Gambit likes complicated," he gave her a small smirk and narrowed her eyes playfully, measuring his next words carefully. "My guess, chére, that he doesn't have the guts t' be around now that y' got y' powers back," he stated, his arm slowly making its way onto the back of her bar stool. "Otherwise, he'd be here… And not let anyone with the intentions like mine t' approach y'."

Rogue was blushing. Now, that was something she didn't see every day. He had a point, but she didn't truly blame Bobby. She loathed her powers –no, she hated not being able to control them. But she felt extremely empathetic towards people who didn't understand it. Even she couldn't understand it. It was what she had to see since her powers manifested, being the very subject of an invisible plague that everyone was very much afraid of. Nah, she really didn't blame Bobby, but she didn't fully support his decisions, either. Especially after she got the cure, things should've been smooth for them, but instead, they were fighting like two stray dogs over some old bone.

Shaking her head, she bit the inside of her bottom lip. Her green eyes were staring into his demonic red ones, she blinked away his intense glare. "Hold ya' horses, Cajun," a smile played on her lips. "Didn't ya' mama teach you to behave? Those intentions don't sound so innocent to me and Ah swear you wouldn't want some ass whoopin'."

A rich laugh escaped from his lips, not those forceful ones that he was so used to, but a genuine one. She gave him a small smile in return, feeling smitten by the sound of his laughter. His voice was rich and thick, a baritone she would've say –not that she was an opera singer herself, but she had a notice for rich masculine notes.

"Oh, chére," he grinned like a predatory animal, one hand still on her bar stool and leaned over her. "You have no idea how much I'd want that."

Rogue nearly choked on her bourbon, blinking hastily as her eyes teared. "You nasty swamp rat," she muttered and coughed a little, narrowing her green eyes at him as she gave him a little punch on the shoulder. "And no manners, Ah see."

He pretended to be hurt by the small punch. "Y' hurt my feelings, p'tite," he pouted, rubbing his shoulder over the walnut colored thick leather jacket. "I have manners, s'all right. I jus' don't use 'em when I'm around beautiful company, my charm's said to be enough."

"Oh, someone's full of it, Cajun," she folded her arms over of her chest. "Ah like your company, but Ah wouldn't want to give ya' any ideas," she began chewing on her bottom lip and looked down as melancholy appeared on her emerald eyes. "Ah meant it when Ah said Ah can't control my powers."

"I'm sure we could go 'round 'em, chére," he murmured huskily, his warm breath against her ear went shivers through her spine. "We jus' have t' be lil' créatif, non?" he suggested, closing his eyes in momentum, contemplating different ways of creative things he would do to avoid direct skin contact, but still have a night that will live for a long time in their minds rent free.

Her eyes widened as she tried to think of ways, but ended up looking puzzled. That wasn't an option, like there wasn't any cheat code or something to outcome her mutation. For years, people avoided her touch simply because it was the easier and smarter way to do. She wasn't used to company that actually wanted to experiment with her mutation, rather than avoid it. But her instinct Logan, she called him that simply because he had been there for so long that his thoughts were like her sixth sense, told her that if that had been possible, somebody at the institute would've achieved it by now. "Easier t' say than done, Cajun." Even though, she didn't believe at the possibility, still, she had to give some praising for his persistence.

He chuckled deeply, his body was even closer to hers now and he was sure that she had not realized it just yet, or she would be alerted by sudden closeness now. With deadly skin that can kill people, she must've stayed pretty far from people, especially seeing that she was wearing a turtle neck and gloves. "Oh, p'tite," he muttered, leaning against the wooden stool. "I can assure 'y," he began, his index finger touching her gloved one. "This lil' mutation of yours ain't scarin' me."

"Alright," she huffed, trying to snap herself out from his magnetic aura and the intense stare of his fiery red eyes. "Now Ah'm thinkin' you're just delusional, swamp boy."

A genuine smile appeared on his lips, even though it wasn't angelic or friendly, she felt driven to wriggle herself into his embrace. Nothing about this man was innocent, his enigmatic look and the way he talked was just screaming dark. Hell, even his accent was mysterious and out of type. For the first time then, she actually began to think if it was possible to overcome her mutation by any way.

"I'll tell y' what, chére," he murmured, his finger rubbing circles on top of hers softly and she found herself in awe. "We go some place quieter and I'll show y' how much I mean my words."

"She aint comin', French press, but you and me have some place to go."

Both southerners turned on their backs to come across a tall creature with long, long furry coat. Standing a couple of inches away from them, the man gave them both a smirk and narrowed his yellow eyes. His body was tense and alarmed at the possibility of the Louisiana man getting away from him.

Fucking hell, she would recognize this voice anywhere and anytime.

Sabretooth crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at the man next to Rogue.

"It's a private party, homme," Gambit said, rising from his stool in a very short but subtle movement. His voice changing from charming to raspy thick so quickly that she had to double check. "Gambit ain't going anywhere, if y' want in, y' need an invitation."

"Nah, he's comin'," Sabretooth cocked his head, mocking his speech. "Essex sends his regards."

As Gambit opened his mouth to speak, Rogue narrowed her eyes and got up from her chair, putting her hands on her hips. "What in the Sam Hill is this?" she raised her eyebrows, eyes shooting daggers at the man with the fur jacket. "What do you want, Sabretooth?" she demanded, refusing to sit back like some delicate porcelain doll.

"Shut your mouth, pretty face," he ignored her completely, his eyes focused on Gambit. "The adults are talkin'."

"Well, fuck y-"

Gambit took a step towards the bigger man, side of his body shielding her from his way. He measured the opportunities of beating the shit of him up right there in the bar, but that would mean he had to make a huge mess, let alone, hurt others on the way doing so. Also, he knew for experience that Victor Creed was a messy son of a bitch and the bar was a small place for his some kinetic explosions. "D'accord, let's go," he said, his red irises shining dangerously. Fucking Essex and his sick little minions, well, nothing minion about Sabretooth, but still.

"Gambit, why-"

"Nothin' to worry 'bout, chére," he gave her a reassuring smile, although forced it was, it still caught her attention. "Gambit and Claws will have a tea party with his ol' friend." His eyes were deadly focused on the blonde man, but swiftly he took one of her gloved hands and gave a little kiss on her palm. "Until next time, p'tite," he added as he put a couple of hundred dollars on the bar counter, on the bartender's way.

"Tea party, my ass," Sabretooth snorted as Gambit made his way towards the exit, glancing up at the man next to him. Both looked alerted and annoyed with each other, one could easily tell.

Rogue watched both men disappear in the crowd on their way to door and sighed in annoyance. Her head was still fuzzy because of all the drinks she had and she sunk into the stool, her head between her palms.

"Fucking Creed," she muttered, closing her eyes and recalling memories of the blonde man. Victor Creed was like a headache she could never get away from. Even if there was something she loathed more than the lack of control of her powers, it was Sabretooth. The man was everywhere, as if there was a job interview at every criminal organization and he signed up for every single one of them.

She remembered the time she had to meet the furry man, it was the time she almost died on the Statue of Liberty. He had abducted her and taken her to Magneto, in plans to turn human kind into mutants -only to have failed majorly. It was horrible, the near death experience was enough to give someone a PTSD. Yet, she only got away with a white stripe in her hair, hooray.

Not only did he cause her a near death experience, he also got in the way of her one night out. And she wasnt sure which one she was more angry with.

Fucking furry sociopath.

And the worst part was that she actually liked the Cajun's company. She didn't hope to go any further, of course, with her damn mutation and everything. But she liked having him compliment her and how easy the flowing of their chemistry. While everyone at the campus treated her like shit, not to mention freaking steal her boyfriend, the Louisiana man actually tried to get physical with her even after he had learned about her mutation. It could be due to the fact he was a total womanizer who liked a little thrill and who would end up in a serious coma, or he was really interested in her.

She liked the latter.

And it didn't really matter which one, people did this every day. If it wasn't for her mutation, she could very well be at this bar every night and pick up random, handsome men and have some fun. Fun that she was denied from for her entire life, because of her damn mutation.

Recalling some of the previous moments, she rubbed her temples and huffed in annoyance. Did she hear an Essex? As in Nathanial Essex? What could Sabretooth potentially want from Gambit that involved Essex?

She chewed on her bottom lip and looked around. Okay, curiosity killed the cat, yada yada and this wasn't her fight to begin with.. But how could she leave him to this psychopath when she knew what Sabretooth was capable of, from the very first hand. And also, she didn't take all those danger room sessions for nothing. Even for the last two months, she didn't want people to turn their backs on her simply because she got the cure and instead she trained like Rocky Balboa. Even if she didn't have her powers, she wanted to prove that she kicked some ass.

Rogue rose from her stool, looked around fuzzily, feeling the bounce of the alcohol and made her way to the entrance. Alright, where would Creed go if he wanted some trouble? He wasn't smart necessarily, but he wouldn't want to make a mess and upset his boss and get some unwanted attention, and end up revealing his secret plans to some better people such as X-Men, either. The people who hired him were as shitty as him, but smarter and shadier, of course. She remembered some of the projects that he was a part of, such as Weapon X, Magneto's human-to-mutant project and some other from Logan's memories. He seriously was like a top guy to hire for every suspicious organization, what a way to upgrade your LinkedIn page.

She inhaled the cold breeze as she got out of the bar, the street was dark and foggy. It wasn't like she had some Airtag on either of the men and she surely didn't have Logan's smell factor, but she decided to look for the clues. There were no footsteps and the street looked rather empty, the dim traffic lights were the only source of light.

She decided to walk around the block and silently laughed at herself for wanting to play Inspector Gadget out of the blue. Thanks to the Cajun and his multiple shots of bourbon, she was in a rather good mood, although her encounter with Gambit had been very short. Maybe that was all she got, who knew.

As she was about to give up, she saw saw a magenta colored playing card in the air not very far from her sight. It came from what seemed to be in isolated back gate and she shrugged, taking a step towards the card –only to be finding herself falling on her butt on the pavement as the card fucking exploded.

"What the hell," she mumbled, rubbing her butt. Thankfully, it happened far from her, but the wave of energy still hit her. She got up and followed the card's direction, leaning against the old, concrete wall of the building. She sneaked her head a little to her right, seeing two silhouettes battling one another.

Sabretooth was fighting like an animal, well, no surprise since he was an animal. But Gambit was a true fighter, she was actually surprised to see that. And oh, the magenta thing was coming from him. That was also surprising. She yelped silently as Creed grabbed him by the arm and yanked him by the shoulder, the younger man grabbed what seemed to be long stick and hit the blonde man with it repeatedly.

Okay, he didn't need much of her help, after all.

Sabretooth was thrown into a bunch of garbage bags, he mumbled somethings that Rogue couldn't understand. "Listen, bastard," he said, wiping the blood on his nose as he slowly got up. "I don't give a shit what you did to be in his debt, but he wants his debths paid. End of the story."

"It's a cruel world, can't always get what we want, homme."

"He wants to make a deal."

Gambit looked intrigued. "A deal, hein?" He muttered, more like thinking to himself. "For what?"

Sabretooth was slowly taking steps, both men drawing cautious circle around each other. "There's something he wants you to acquire," the blonde man said with his arms in a shield position. "It's a ring, you'll like it, pretty boy."

The Cajun rolled her eyes at that. "I'm sure Essex just ain't gone broke all o' sudden, why t' interest in this ring?" The pair kept on circling each other slowly, alerted and stiff. The blonde man seized the other with focused interest, having met him several times before, he did know the thief's capability of losing his sight easily.

"It does somethin'," Creed said with narrowed eyes, giving no further information. "It'll be on display at Hellfire Club on Friday night, Frost fuckin' loves to show off this thing."

"I don't consider m'self as a ring guy," Gambit drawled, huffing in annoyance as his eyes never leaving Creed's. "Commitment's never been Gambit's thing."

"Cut the shit, Cajun. You damn well know how he is, when he wants something," Sabretooth said, adding the part with a visible snicker. "And you, of all people, should know how he feels about rejection."

Rogue rolled her eyes at that, who the hell was he? All she could hear about this guys' wants and needs and how intimidating he's, etcetera. She didn't think of anyone that would intimidate Gambit, not that she knew the guy –but the very same guy also scared the shit out of Sabretooth and that was an interesting sight. Something about Essex, she mentally took a note and buried aside in her mind.

"I don't know what he feels, les griffes," Gambit looked at the other man with a stare she hadn't seen for the entire night at all. It was frightening, cold and distant. "But Gambit knows how he don't feel good about the Morlock Tunnels."

Instead of coming up for an excuse, Sabretooth just laughed out loud –in the very same tone, cold and distant. So, the relationship dynamic between the two was pretty much similar to each other. Unfriendly. "Oh, cry me a river, thief," he grinned annoyingly. "But I'm surprised to see you alive, you're like a cockroach that fuckin' survives anythin'."

And again, instead of being annoyed with the other man, Gambit cocked his aside and gave him a cold smirk. "Eh, what can I say, I'm a believer, homme," he muttered, but it was loud enough for Rogue to hear from the corner. "An' it's not my fault you're an incompetent piece o' shit."

Sabretooth let out a growl and attacked the other man with a forceful punch. Gambit easily ducked his attack and hit him from the back with the long stick. The blonde man fell on his front, but rolled on his side as Gambit came with a kick and grabbed his leg to twist it, smashing him to the concrete wall. Rogue put her hand on her mouth to stop herself from yelping, as the larger man kicked him on his back, but he was soon thrown back against the opposite wall when a magenta color appeared again and something exploded –which appeared to be Gambit's mutation.

As he was about to climb a ladder that goes up to the roof, Sabretooth groaned in pain as he broke the railing of the ladder, breaking it in half and causing the other man to fall to the concrete floor. The larger man grabbed him before he could get back in position and smashed him to the wall, before landing a strong punch on his abdomen.

Gambit winced in pain as a pair of claws cut his torso and Sabretooth snickered, satisfied with the reaction. He grabbed the other man from his black shirt, which was torn apart with claw marks now, and touched his neck with his long nails. "Who's the incompetent now, you-"

The sentence was never finished, as Creed's eyes rolled back and he looked like he was giving his last breath. Gambit blinked, his vision was blurry from the pain in his torso, but he saw Sabretooth's large body collapse to the floor in less than a few seconds, revealing a feminine silhouette behind the man.

"Rogue?"

The woman he met at the bar was facing him, but her green eyes were wide and he was sure that she wasn't looking at him, but she was rather looking at some blank space. She was holding one of her gloves so hard that her hand became white, eyes fixated on the empty space on the wall. Before he could get up, she let out a huge breath and panted heavily. He tried again with a confused look. "Rogue, are y' okay, chére?" He asked, putting a pressure on his torso with his hand.

"Ah'm okay," she mumbled, trying to blink away the terrifying memories and the Creed's horrible persona. "It's just a side effect."

"Side effect," he repeated, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What did y' do, p'tite? That man's twice your size and he dropped dead."

She looked to be at loss for a moment before she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes back at him. "Ah just saved your ass, Cajun," she glared and wore her glove again. "An' he's not dead… Ah mean, Ah think so, Ah barely touched him," she added, waving her hand nonchalantly.

With a weary sigh, Gambit moved over to the large body which looked like in a coma. He put his other hand on the blonde's neck, checking his pulse. His red irises were back on Rogue as he exhaled in relief. "He's not dead," he informed, getting himself up in pain. He tried not to let out a groan, but ended up failing as a brief whimper got out of his lips.

She looked puzzled for a moment, before realizing the wound on his abdomen. "Oh," she raised her eyebrows. "You're bleedin'!" she pointed out, taking a step towards him and offering her shoulder as a support, making him look at her in disbelief.

"It's hardly a wound, chére," he tried to wave away her worry with a reassuring grin. "Gambit had worse."

Rogue took a glance at him, seizing his welfare. He looked pretty beaten up, yes, but he was still smirking. The nerve this guy had, Rogue resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Strangely, his long leather coat wasn't harmed by any means, but his black shirt looked torn and she could see that he was bleeding beneath the fabric. "Sweet talk won't do much to me, Cajun," she stated, one hand on his hip. "We need to get you stitched up."

"Non," he argued, trying to take a step back. "I'm fine, p'tite. Takes more than that t' take me t' hospitals."

She bit her bottom lip, emerald eyes looked confused of what to do. If he didn't want hospitals, so be it. Not very much of mutants preferred hospitals for many reasons, nobody wanted to deal with the annoying stares and the unneeded questions. She could take him to the institute, but everyone would, again, ask too many questions. But those questions needed some answers that also Rogue wanted to hear. "Um," she began nervously. "What about Xavier's?"

It was his turn to look puzzled. "The school?" he raised his brows, earning a nod from her. "The one for the mutants? Thanks, chére, mais if I wanted help, I'd get it m'self."

"You don't have to be so damn stubborn, swamp boy," she narrowed her eyes. "They're nice people, Ah assure ya," she stated, arms crossed in front of her chest. "If what you got yourself involved has Sabretooth in it, you better get some help."

She meant when she said he needed help and the institute would definitely help, she just wasn't sure if she wanted to return herself.

Gambit couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, p'tite, he's the least of my concern in this scenario," he said, earning a frown from her as he reached his pocket and pulled out a burner phone. He typed somethings that she couldn't see and she stared at his face in disbelief. He was obviously wincing in pain, also refusing to get treatment and now shutting her off from the whole thing. Not that she had a reason to be a part of this thing with Sabretooth, but he was like a sworn enemy of her team… Well, former team now that she was actually leaving them behind.

"Who's Essex?"

Gambit groaned, eyes flashing at her before looking at his phone again. "Nobody y' should be getting' involved with, chére, fais-moi confiance."

"He wants something from you," she said, ignoring his unneeded comment. He made no comment in return, busying himself in the text messages he kept sending for the last minute.

She was trying to fill in the blanks, with basically nothing in her hands, but she had Creed's partial memories flying in her mind. Something about red eyes, pale skin. I want the ring, Victor. A man with pale skin with blood red eyes was talking to him in some place looking like a doctor's surgery room, but has a vibe of an underground secret cult. Whoever this Essex guy was, he had some people recruited in this cult that he was experimenting with. Imagine the things I can do with them once they lose their powers, begging to do anything to receive them back.

Having seeing an image in Sabretooth's mind, she chewed on her lip as she tried to make a meaning out of it. Creed was watching the whole thing from outside the surgery room, one woman was lying down and Essex was doing something to her brain with surgical tools. Victor Creed was feeling thrilled, yet interested, in his new recruiter's capabilities.

"Why does Sabretooth work for him?" she found herself asking again. "Last time I checked, he was livin' happily ever after with Magneto, Ah guess nothin' lasts forever."

How on earth did she know him? Gambit looked at her in utter amazement. How did someone he had just come across at some random bar ended up knowing some important key words that involved his expertise field? "Chére," he began, his red on black eyes sparkling in wonder. "Who are you?" he asked, a gimmick of curiosity appeared on his face.

She shrugged nonchalantly, there was nothing she could tell this guy that could explain everything she had been through. Sure, he seemed like someone who got himself into trouble very often, but she wasn't going to spend some time chitchatting about her personal mutant diary –which consisted of manifesting of her powers, getting kidnapped by The Brotherhood of Mutants, nearly getting killed in the end, absorbing two of the strongest mutants she'd ever known while doing so and surviving at the secret base of William Stryker and his freak of an army –oh, and the aftermath of Golden Gate events, of course.

She opened her mouth to say something, ended up thinking it was unnecessary and shut it. Saying she was a part of the X-Men was not accurate anymore. She didn't feel like she belonged to the institute, so she couldn't say she lived there, either. A thought hit her fast, she was now a random mutant who had nowhere to go, but she was fixing to discover herself on the way.

Run. She had always been this way. No, he had always been this way. Running away, being a lone wolf and taking care of himself. He had nobody to trust. Especially when the those government bastards were trying to hunt him down. They were always after him, he was always surviving what was thrown at his path. Being a weapon, being the soldier. Rogue blinked away the confusion in her eyes. No, these weren't her thoughts –they were Creed's.

As she was lost in her own thought bubble, Gambit's vision became blurry again. He groaned softly, leaning against the closest wall around him. Since her absorbing Creed had been really brief, she achieved to snap her focus back on his wound and frowned. Although his wound wasn't deadly, he was bleeding pretty bad and thus, needed help as soon as possible. As quick as stray cat, she made her way up to him and threw his arm around her shoulders, once again offering some support. "Come on, sugah," she muttered, emerald eyes shining at him. "Ah'm sure Ah saw a motel back there," she added, gesturing towards the empty street around the corner.

"Gambit's flattered, chére," he mumbled, his breath cutting in short in pain. "But don't think it's time for some chambre à coucher."

"Oh, hush, swamp rat," she rolled her eyes, ignoring his dirty comment. "You need some stitchin'."

He hummed something what seemed to be a protest, but didn't find the energy to say it out loud. Closing his eyes, he let the woman whom he just met at the bar, guide him from the empty alley to the street. After a short walk that lasted for a few minutes, he saw the sight of an old looking building. It said motel, but the cheap lighting of signboard was broken, the first letter wasn't lighting up. But at least, he had a place to crash in this bad shape.

It was then when he recalled the memory about his luck.

Maybe luck was truly on his side.

Well, hello. It's my first story regarding this universe and I just wanted to give you a quick heads up.

1. I love explicitidity and I love writing openly about erotica, if you feel uncomfortable with that you can avoid those parts.

2. Seeing as English isnt my first language, there may be some grammatical mistakes as well as some canon mistakes, it's not very easy to gather every comic here.

3. It's been years since I last wrote anything, so there may be some uneasiness with the flow. However, I do appreciate the feedback.

Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this as much as I love writing it.