Thanks for dropping a review:

Hotbritt5000 – I'm glad you're on the edge of your seat. Here's some more for ya.

Man Bobby – Arg I know! In due time; be patient and enjoy the rest of the ride. Warning ~ this ride may cause you to spontaneously combust. Oooh, look at all the pretty flames.

Coletterby – Where have you been?! I've missed you and your reviews, lady.

A/N: I don't want to spoil anything here—I'm tempted, but I wouldn't do that. Enjoy!

Snow and Fire Don't Mix!

Ch. 20

Emerald, Royal, and Crimson

Rogue sat in a chair with both legs hanging over the armrest, watching Kitty as she worked her magic with the computer. Bobby was sitting on the floor in front of the television set engaged in a video game. Earlier he asked Rogue to join him but she declined. There was no challenge when you've beaten someone over one hundred times and never lost to that same individual—she also wanted to keep it that way as her mind and thoughts were currently elsewhere.

"What was in the bag?" Kitty asked, quickly glancing at her friend and then back to the laptop, "John is stealing towels, isn't he?"

She shook her head. "If only it were that simple." Rogue sighed. "That bag contains money—a lot of it, courtesy of our guest."

"He can't just walk out of here with it."

"I have to talk to him about that again." Rogue shifted in the seat and lowered her feet to the floor. "Any progress?"

"Getting there."

"Come and get it." She repeats and laughs.

The fire manipulator stares into Veronica's eyes, his gray eyes asking a question. A question she understands without the movement of his lips or voice. Her hazel eyes are cold and empty. A malicious smirk appears on her face before putting an index finger to her lips, 'Shhh.'

John gasped and slightly jerked where he lay while his eyes snapped open. Instinctively he tensed up at the sight of an arm resting across his chest. He immediately exhaled and relaxed his muscles at the sight of white strands of hair in the corner of his eye. From what he could see, Rogue's upper body was fully covered protecting his exposed skin from her embrace. She was using his shoulder as a pillow, her hair purposely between her skin and his.

She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Did I startle you? I've been lying next to you for"-she glanced at the clock on the nightstand-"over an hour."

He hesitated before answering, tentatively choosing words. "I was dreaming, and—" He hesitated again. Her eyes told him to go on. "she was in it."

Rogue propped herself up with her elbow, slid out from under the covers, and crossed her legs Indian-style. It was at that moment he noticed that she was wearing shorts. "You can relax, John," she said softly, "I'm not going to turn into Bitchzilla. Besides . . . it couldn't have been that good since you woke up distraught."

"I had limited mobility and then . . . I think . . . none at all. I couldn't speak either."

"Anything else?"

He studied her face before answering. "She was on the bed, on top of me, half naked." He made a mental note that her expression didn't change, not even a twitch.

"I see," she replied with a hint of displeasure. Before he could blink, Rogue was on top of him just like Veronica was in his dream. "Like this?" she asked playfully with a warm smile.

He returned the smile and nodded, looking straight into her emerald eyes and not at her bare legs. Like in the game of Operation instead of tweezers and a metal lining of a cavity, she was careful not to touch his bare skin with her bare legs. She leaned in closer and her gloved hands gently cupped his face. Without further hesitation, John inched closer and his lips met hers. Finally, the burning desire to touch her was accomplished. Nothing would get in the way . . . until he motioned to stop. She opened her mouth to protest but he put his index finger to her perfectly shaped lips and said, "For the record, nothing happened in my dream with her; nothing intimate."

She whispered firmly, "Shut up and kiss me, Pyro."

He grinned and gladly did as he was told. Propping himself up with his right hand, he gently guided her body to the mattress with the other. Now on top, he planted himself between her arched bare legs. He hovered over her table-like, using his arms to support his upper body. Rogue noticed his breathing had changed and she looked at him with a concerned gaze. John flashed Rogue a white smile to indicate he was all right. Without further hesitation he dove in for more—this time his lips pressed harder and deeper than before. She kissed back, weaving her gloved fingers through his hair. He lightly kissed her neck while stroking her thigh. Rogue closed her eyes, and her jaw dropped open as she breathed his name. He knew this kiss would be the last, for now, as he felt most of his life force being inadvertently taken from him. John made damn sure it was one to almost die for. Their lips parted and he let himself fall on the mattress next to her, gasping for air.

She didn't waste any time. "Money or me?"

"What?" John breathed, still trying to catch his breath.

Rogue sat up and slung her legs over the edge of the bed, her back to him. "If you take that money . . . we're done."

He sat up and ran both hands through his hair. "That's not a fair ultimatum, Rogue."

She heard the sarcasm in his tone, but didn't see his facial expression—she imagined a half-smirk with his head cocked to one slid off the bed, rising to her feet. Now as she strode to the bathroom, John's focus was on the lower portion of her body. It was a shame hiding those slender, flawless legs.

The restroom was cleaner than she thought it would be with two teenage boys. She splashed water on her face, dried it, and fixed her hair as best she could without a brush. "So what's it going to be, John?" she yelled from the other room. Rogue picked up damp towels and John's clothes from the beige and white tiled floor.

"I'm still thinking," he yelled back.

Refreshing warmth coursed through her. In addition, she developed the urge for pizza with pineapples—John's favorite. She took one last look at herself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. Rogue tossed his shirt and pants onto a chair. "I'm going to head back to see what Kitty was able to come up with. I told her to wait until I've returned." A few paces later she added, "By the way, I only told Bobby to restrain Veronica, not make a sculpture out of her."

A snorting laugh sound came from John. "I'll see you in a few." When the door clicked shut, he realized he could have told Rogue to take the backpack with her. He stared at the bag, mulling. Naturally, curiosity won over indifference.

He placed the bag of money on the bed next to him and unzipped it. Peering inside, he speculated how much was actually there. It only took a few moments for John to conclude that it didn't make a difference if the bag contained two hundred or eight hundred dollars since inevitably it would be turned over to the police. He reached for the bag to close it. "Shit." His reach was off and the bag was knocked to the floor. Half of the bills fell out, along with a syringe. John motioned to pick it up but stopped himself. He pulled out a tissue from the tissue box and used the Kleenex to pick up the syringe to study it—royal blue liquid was inside. Carefully, John set the syringe down on the nightstand and hastily shoved the money back into the bag. He threw on a grey hoodie that read Bush on the front in black block letters and on the back it read a tendency to start fires; followed by an old pair of jeans, white socks, and lastly, black and white sneakers. He rummaged through the pockets of the jeans he wore earlier, took out the item he'd found in Veronica's room, and pocketed it in the pants he was currently wearing. John picked up the needle and shouldered the backpack before leaving the room.

John's eyes darted from one end of the hall to the other. An unattended kid stood near the elevator—presumably pressing all of the buttons inside before jumping out. John disregarded the kid and went to the opposite end of the hall. Using the side of his fist, the pyromaniac pounded twice on the door. "It's me."

"I'm going to pull you in."

"But—" Before John could say anything further, it was too late. "There was a kid out there! Since when do you use your powers so recklessly?"

She half-shrugged and changed the subject, "What's in your hand?"

John glanced at Rogue for some backup. When she didn't offer any, he turned back to Kitty and unraveled the tissue revealing the syringe. "This was in the backpack."

Kitty Pride looked up at John after he handed her the syringe. "This is part of her MO—Vecuronium—it paralyzes her victims. Rogue and I were just talking about it. This is good, really good—something substantial to use against Veronica."

John shot Rogue a quick glance and then back to Kitty. "What else have you found?"

"According to the institutions' records, all of her victims were male. After she toys with them she injects the victims with Vecuronium and watches them suffocate to death. She has murdered five men, which makes her a serial killer. Unfortunately, that number is not accurate as the records are no longer current. She's been on the run for almost two years. Each body is left with a gash in their chest, which leads to penetration in the heart—the reason for this is unknown."

The fire starter stared at her blankly, processing what he was just told. And then it hit him—Rogue. God knows what she saw from Veronica's memories. No wonder she was acting so strange. What if she saw the flow of crimson trailing from the wound to the mattress or the faces of the victims as they slowly died? Their eyes were forever etched into her memory. It made him sick to his stomach thinking about it. He curled his fingers into a fist. A fist so tight his knuckles turned white. John relaxed his hand and turned back to Rogue—his gaze said it all.

"I'm fine," she mouthed, meeting his gaze dead on. Rogue crossed her arms over her chest. "When she wakes up, we're going to have to use our codenames."

"Brooke alrea—" John stopped himself short and started over, "Veronica already knows my name and his."

Bobby paused the video game to ask, "How did my name come up?"

Even with a heavy sweatshirt, John noticed the temperature had just dropped. He put his hands in the front pocket, glaring at his roommate as Bobby walked towards the rest of the group.

"At the moment we're on a mission, it's the protocol to use codenames."

"I'm not complaining, Rogue," John said, truthfully. "But we booked the rooms under a fictitious name."

She tapped her fingers lightly on her arm. "Protocol. End of story, Allerdyce." She held back a smirk. This time she said it deliberately.

Kitty smiled but didn't say a word. She knew she'd heard that before, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Great, just what I need… two Sco—," he paused, "Cyclopses."

Kitty held her head in her palm and shook her head a few times. She should have gotten that instantly.

"How did my name come up?" Bobby asked again.

The pyromaniac made a noise in disgust. "I don't remember! It just did," snapped John. Then he took a deep inhale, exhaling a sigh. "Stop asking trivial questions and raise the damn temperature already! Believe me," he continued, "I'd do it myself, but your little ice cell would melt in just minutes."

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, defensively. "Why is everything I do little?"

"Becau—" His reply was interrupted when the door to the bathroom was slammed shut. John glanced around the room and noticed Rogue was no longer present.

Through the darkness of her subconscious, Brooke heard muffled voices. Her eyes briefly fluttered open twice but the bright light willed them to remain closed. She remained still and just listened. More voices, however, now they were more coherent. Startled by a loud sound, Brooke's eyes flew open. Squinting from the light, she tilted her head back and studied the whole length of the girl in front of her. "Let me take a guess," the blonde said and paused, "You're the girlfriend." Brooke's eyes trailed the perimeter of the ice bars and then back to Rogue. "What did you do to me?" she demanded. As she waited for an answer, she subtly tested the ice bounds. The ice didn't budge. When Rogue remained silent, Brooke sneered and whispered with a low growl, "I know what you are."

A/N: Hurray! Finally some Ryro action. I've been meaning to get that out on paper for a while.

I described the muscle relaxant Vecuronium as a royal blue liquid, but it is actually a powdery substance.

R&R

XOXO