A long black limo pulled up to the main gates, surveying the imposing structure located beyond the long gravel driveway. Pillars and columns arched and rose into the sky, wall-length windows mirrored the afternoon sun and the water spurting from the fountain streamed gracefully through the air.

Of course, all this was lost on the mutant known as Irene Adler, alias Destiny. She had lost her sight as a young child, her colourful world fading slowly to be replaced by nothing more than a great sea of black, interspersed by sounds, feeling, touch and taste. Irene's grip on the wooden cane she had in her hand tightened, the tendons in her fingers and knuckles stretching. She was here on a much more important mission.

'Ma'am?' The young driver in charge of the rented car, Tom, asked, nervously clearing his throat. Irene merely nodded, sensing his uneasiness. It had been a huge risk simply asking the man to drive her here.

'Thank you for your services,' Irene said politely, reaching into her pocket. She pressed the thick bundle into his hands, gently closing his fingers over the money. She heard the soft intake of breath once Tom took in the amount she had paid him.

'This-'

'Not many people would have done this, young man. Especially during these times,' Irene replied simply. 'Please accept it as a token of my gratitude. Now, would you mind giving me a hand?'

She heard the door open and slam shut, Tom's shoes scuffing noisily against the road as he came over to assist her. Irene felt the cool air hit her face and Tom's clammy hands tentatively grasp her wrist, helping her out of the car. She could hear the soft whirr of the security pad she knew was located to her left.

'Once again, thank you,' she told Tom.

'It…it was a pleasure ma'am.'

She heard the engine rev up, the motors coming to life. The tires crunched stones and random twigs and she heard the noise die away slowly as young Tom exited her life. Perhaps Xavier's ideals weren't as redundant as she had once thought. Focusing, she tapped her cane against the floor, listening intently to the sounds it made against the floor. Reaching out a hand, she felt the coarse stone that flanked both sides of the wrought iron gate. She let her fingers drift downward, the rough hewn surface suddenly giving way to a cool metal. She brushed across lightly, feeling the buttons and the LCD screen. Confidently, she pressed the button located to the right of the screen, two buttons from the top.

'Hello?'

'What do ya want?' A gruff voice answered. Irene smiled. It was the Wolverine.

'My name is Irene Adler. I wish to speak to Charles Xavier. It is of the utmost importance.'

'Yeah? Look here lady, I don't care if ya have the friggin'-'

'Logan!' She heard a second voice admonish. 'That is no way to speak to a guest. Please come in Ms Adler. The Professor anticipated your arrival. I will be there shortly to greet you.'

Irene knew that. She had made sure Charles would be alerted to her arrival.

'Ro! What tha hell do ya think you're doin'?'

'Being civil. Something you should become acquainted with.'

The rest of their argument was drowned out as the iron gates rolled back, thundering and scraping against the gravel path.

--

Remy sat beside Rogue, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she slept. An IV drip fed into her vein, her body shrouded by the blue hospital scrubs and the stark white sheets that seemed to be the bedding of choice throughout the Medbay. The smell of antiseptic lingered faintly about, and the beeps of the various contraptions that surrounded Rogue churned out unimpeded.

But all he could focus on was Rogue. She was different…peaceful. Beast had cleared away the makeup the Goth usually wore, leaving her face milky white and unmarred. The long sweep of her lashes pillowed against her cheeks, and her mouth parted slightly as she breathed in steadily every so often. Her gloves had been removed and her hands fascinated him. He had only rarely seen her without her gloves around the mansion, constantly wary as she was about unintentionally absorbing one of the other mutants inhabiting the manor. He had found a pair of latex gloves lying around, and was now amusing himself by running his finger gently down hers, his ministrations leaving behind the chalky white powder that always seemed to coat the material.

Remy had never really contemplated her situation. To go your whole life without the touch of another human being, to never allow yourself to indulge in the simple pleasure generated by the melding of two skins into one for that brief second in time. He had never really pitied her situation. In fact, he had admired her. The Prince of Thieves lived off touch – his whole life evolved around his ability to physically manipulate objects and persons. With a tap of his finger, he could charge a card, exciting the molecules enmeshed inside the slip of laminated cardboard. With a simple caress of the face and the gentle lull of his hands over her body, he could seduce, charm, and steal. Rogue touched with her eyes. Those green emeralds were really like the windows to her soul, reflecting whatever she felt no matter how hide she tried to hide it. But it seemed she really was good at masking herself…

Why y'gotta hide chere? Jus' say de word an' Remy be dere f'y'…

A long sigh was released. And that was the problem, wasn't it? The fact that he was willing to put all of himself – mind, body, heart and soul – into helping her. He wasn't quite sure yet what to do with these new feelings. They had burst forth one day and engulfed him, and he had had trouble trying to suppress it ever since. When he saw her, the sun seemed to be a little brighter, the day a little warmer. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he could hear his subconscious screaming at him to accept the truth. However, Remy was not ready to deal with it yet. New Orleans was still but a recent wound, and he did not want to drag a fresh new line across and let it bleed anew.

Vaguely, he heard the slight swish of the doors as they opened.

Mus' be Henri t'check on y'ma chere.

The shuffling of feet stopped, and he could feel the nervous fidgeting of someone behind him. Puzzled, Remy turned to find Kitty, her hands tightly gripping a tray of food. His lips stretched thin, Remy looked at the younger girl, his prior resentment still creeping back into his blood.

'I, er, brought you some food. I thought you must be hungry or something, being here all day,' Kitty started hesitantly, her voice tripping over itself as she tried not to cringe from his angry glare. He noticed that her eyes were red and puffy. The Acadian offered a short nod of acknowledgement, his hand coming to rest lightly on Rogue's.

Shadowcat placed the tray on the bed next to Rogue's, rearranging the assortment of baked and fried goods that no doubt Ororo must have prepared for dinner.

'I'm sorry.'

Remy swallowed. 'Shouldn' be m'y' apologizin' t'petite,' he replied.

'I can say that it was, like, because of the heat of the moment or whatever. But that doesn't excuse what I said to her. I mean, it just kind of popped out of my mouth before I even knew what I said, ya know?'

Remy didn't respond, letting the girl's words echo around the room.

'You know, when I first met Rogue, I was totally scared outta my skin. She always had this scowl on her face, wore lots of black and liked vampire books. And then the Professor put us both together in a room, and I began to realize that she wasn't all that bad.'

A noncommittal grunt issued from his mouth. Part of him was curious about the friendship that had developed between the two girls.

'Rogue was just a normal girl. She liked shopping, hang out…she even liked to talk about boys. I think if it wasn't for her mutation, she'd have all the guys down here tripping over their feet wanting to ask her out. But because of her skin, she's got this idea in her head that she's dangerous, that if she even let herself have a little fun and let loose and forgot just for a day who she was, that'd she lose control. And after that incident at the concert with Risty-'

'Mystique oui?'

'Yeah. Talk about betrayal. It was really hard to be around her after that. She was worse than usual. I mean, she'd spoken to me before about how she felt about her family and stuff. About Kurt. About Logan. But she never once mentioned anything about Mystique.'

'She trusts y'.' The statement was simple, to the point.

'Yeah. And I felt honoured. Rogue doesn't trust easy, and when she does, she puts all her heart into your relationship. She was the only one who stood up for me when me and Lance were together. She knew that Lance wasn't a bad guy. She used to live with him. And I guess Rogue always saw herself as the enemy. I mean, she was with the Brotherhood and sometimes, when we were first starting out, the other's would look and her and wonder. And she'd always push herself, go that extra mile, just to prove to them how she was on their side. But Remy, she's different with you.'

Gambit raised an eyebrow.

'You make her happy. Whenever she's with you, it's like that black cloud that's always over her head goes away and she smiles! She laughs more, she teases, she banters…she's just so alive. And I see the way she looks at you,' Kitty said, looking at him. Remy tried to remain impassive, but he couldn't help a small smile from showing through.

'I knew it,' Kitty sighed. 'Rogue gets that same dopey look on her face too. I know you're angry with me for what I said to Rogue. No one is more angry at myself than me,' Kitty concluded, her tone sad and heavy. Remy lifted a hand to her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

'I'm gonna tell you something and I want you to promise me that you'll do it.'

'Mais chaton, Remy be-'

'Promise me Remy.'

The Cajun drew back, slightly startled by the vehement tone of the girl's voice. He nodded his head, his hands subconsciously gripping Rogue's. He saw Kitty's eyes travel to their intertwined fingers, a wistful quirk of her lips and the slight softening of her eyes the only change in her expression.

'When she wakes up, don't let her leave you alone.'

'Quoi?'

'Rogue pushes away the people she loves most. Don't let her do that with you,' Kitty said, standing up. Remy felt his jaw unhinge just a bit.

'When she wakes up, would you mind coming to get me?' Kitty asked, clearing her throat.

'Sure, Kitty. Y'be de firs' one Remy finds.'

Nodding her head, Kitty looked down at Rogue. Her next actions took Remy by surprise. Smoothing down some of her hair to cover her forehead, Kitty placed a small kiss on her best friend. Seeing his shocked expression, Kitty smiled feebly.

'I was never afraid of her skin,' she said, before finally departing.