A/N You reviewers are lovely people! You make my stressful days so much better, so thanks to tmmdeathwishraven, Yodes, Jean1, MidnightManic, fannut, and everyone who added this to their alerts. You rock my socks.

C is for Control

Rogue's lack of control had always bothered her, which wasn't surprising at all. Since her mutation had manifested, there was a dark part of her mind that hated it and herself. Once in awhile she would focus too much on that and was filled with fiery anger and depression and sink into what people would call one of her 'moods'. Only Gambit knew that her depression made it easier for the psyches' own emotional pain to emerge and drown her completely. If the others could feel the depth of her hidden unhappiness, they'd be shocked that she didn't live in a constant state of misery.

After enduring his first of what he would later dub 'Rogue rages', Gambit merely sat quietly on her bed, waiting for her to calm down and stop throwing things. Finally, after an hour (Gambit didn't think it was possible to rage for that long), she collapsed to the ground, head in her hands, screaming for the voices to shut up.

Gambit moved swiftly and plopped himself onto the ground next to her. She groaned and leaned her head onto his shoulder, prompting him to curl an arm around her. He kissed her temple quickly and let her sag against him for a few minutes before speaking.

"Mon chèrie, now don't take this the wrong way, but have you even tried to get control?" he asked as delicately as possible.

Rogue shrank back as if he'd hit her. "You think I want this?" Gambit felt distinctly in trouble now, her voice having dropped to a low hiss.

"Non," Gambit said placatingly.

"You think this is my fault?"

Gambit mentally swore, trying to think of what he could say without digging himself a deeper hole. "I think maybe we could explore new methods is all," he said calmly, hands up in surrender.

Rogue assessed him shrewdly for a moment before sighing and slumping back on his shoulder, her body draining of tension. Gambit took this as an encouraging sign and kept talking. "What kind of things do you do now to try for control?"

"Well I used to have meditation sessions with the professor before he died," Rogue said. "We tried to control the psyches, keep them from getting too loud."

"Do you still do that?"

"Yeah, for a few hours a day."

"What about your skin?" he asked.

Rogue cocked her head to the side. "What about it?"

Gambit was torn between exasperation and excitement. "Do you ever touch people with the goal of not absorbing them or is it all accidental absorptions and purposeful ones? Do you ever touch people on purpose while trying not to absorb them?"

"Accidents or in fights," Rogue said slowly, not sure where he was going with this.

"Well then you're not really trying to not absorb people," Gambit said simply. Rogue looked back at him blankly. "It reminds me of when my mutation manifested."

"How?" Rogue asked, tracing his hand with her gloved one. Gambit never really talked about those first few years. He'd told her his powers were unpredictable but flat out refused to say much more than that.

"I was uncontrollable," Gambit said softly, his eyes focusing on their entwined hands. "At first it wasn't just things I touched, but things blew up when I just looked at them. Organic matter. People got hurt. I blew off a man's arm once, and that wasn't even the worst of it." Rogue rubbed her free hand over his back. "Basically, I was out of control. I was overwhelmed and had no idea what to do, just like you. I was used to how it felt to have my powers control me, so I didn't know how it felt to control them."

Rogue frowned. "So you're saying what?"

"Think of it as mutant power hypertension. It's like when a muscle is trained to stay in one position and needs to be retrained to work right," Gambit said, snapping out of his own memories.

A slow, amused smile crept over Rogue's face. "So you're suggesting we get me on a power physical therapy program?" she asked.

Gambit grinned and quickly placed a kiss on her forehead. "Oui."

So Gambit and Rogue began their efforts to retrain her skin. They started slowly, trying to get Rogue to feel if there was any difference between a purposeful absorption and one where she was actively trying not to absorb. They enlisted Logan's help because they wanted her to immediately feel the difference and Logan was the only one in the mansion who didn't need a long rest period between absorptions. Rogue was a bit nervous about the whole process, but Logan could smell the excitement on her when she handed him a glass of water after the second absorption.

"I'm fine, darlin'," he assured her, waving off her concern. "Now, why don't you tell us why you're so excited?"

"I could feel it," she said, nearly bouncing. "Like, when it was an accident I could feel a jolt, like a static shock. It was like my skin was kicking in! The one on purpose was smoother."

"Congratulations, chère," Gambit said and kissed her lips just long enough that there was barely a tingle. Logan growled from his chair. "See, there's a delay too! We can work with this."

They practiced and practiced. A lot. They would sit in the same room for hours until she was falling asleep and didn't expect it then Logan or Gambit would sneak up and stick a hand on her arm. The more she paid attention to the feeling on the accidents, the slower absorption got when she actively tried to turn her skin off.

Gambit was her chief test subject and over the weeks of practicing so Rogue gained a massive amount of his memories.

Gambit was a small boy, dodging through the crowded New Orleans streets. He squeezed by a woman, apologizing as he 'accidentally' stepped on her toe and darted back into to crowd. She didn't notice her wallet and bracelet were missing. That night, he was selling off the bracelet, stomach aching. He couldn't wait to get a sandwich in him.

He was still a child, in line at a cheap deli. He stepped forward and ordered his soup and sandwich, eyes down. Miss Madgie was nice, always giving him an extra piece of bread, but he kept his eyes down, sure she wouldn't be quite so understanding if she saw them.

He thanked her and moved to a corner to eat, happy to be inside on such an abnormally chilly day. He glanced up when the door dinged open and a woman at the table a few feet away gasped and put her hand on her son. Her husband stood, stalking to Gambit's table.

"You little monster, get the hell out of here!" he spat at Gambit. "Little devil child."

"Dave Morris, you back away from that boy right now, you hear!" The man turned to see Miss Madgie behind him, hands on her hips. He didn't miss the meat cleaver hanging from her left hand. The man grumbled and gathered his family to leave. "Watch your grousing boy! Or next time we might not have your roast beef!"

She shot the young Gambit a wink before returning to the counter.

He was still a little boy being chased through an alley by a group of kids with sticks and rocks.

"Le Diable Blanc!"

"Get him!"

He lost them down a different alley, hiding behind a dumpster. He angrily wiped at his eyes. That wouldn't help anything.

The streets were crowded again. A young Gambit grinned, targeting the slight bulge in a man's nice suit that signaled a wallet. His hand slipped into the man's pocket and before he could blink there was a hand around his wrist, yanking him around to face the man.

"And what do you think you're doing?" the man asked.

"It was my sister," Gambit said with a dramatic sigh and head shake. "She has a stealing problem. I was trying to get your wallet back without you noticing."

The man raised an eyebrow and slightly quirked his lips. "What's your name?" Gambit stayed silent. "Let me tell you mine then. I'm Jean-Luc LeBeau."

Gambit deflated like a popped balloon. He'd heard of the LeBeaus, what thief hadn't? This man would know exactly what he had been doing. Jean-Luc assessed him up and down. "You're pretty scrawny, boy. Are you hungry?"

Gambit nodded slowly, confused. Jean-Luc put his hand on his shoulder. "Well then, let's get this bold little pick pocket a hot meal."

Gambit expected any minute for Jean-Luc to cut off his hands but he did nothing but bring him back to a giant house, stuff him with food and shove him into a class with a bunch of other boys his age with nothing more than a, "Pay attention, now."

An older boy with messy brown hair looked over curiously. "Hi," he said. "I'm Henri."

Rogue was sitting on her bed, twirling a pen around her fingers when Gambit groaned and regained consciousness next to her. She smiled, setting the pen down.

"How'd we do?" Gambit asked groggily.

"Okay," Rogue said with a shrug. "I wrote it down in the log."

The log had been Gambit's idea. It was a journal with records of how it felt each time she used her power and how long it took.

"What'd you see this time?" Gambit asked.

"Stuff from New Orleans," Rogue said, face splitting into a grin. "You were a cute kid."

Gambit snorted. "I was a scrawny little berk."

Rogue giggled. "That's why it was adorable."

Gambit cracked his neck and smiled. "And I'm sure you just sprang into existence as a sexy, voluptuous beauty? No awkward stages for the great Rogue," he teased.

Rogue smirked. "Of course not." She fiddled with her hands for a few moments before speaking again. "I feel a little guilty, getting all these memories from you and you're learning nothing from me."

"So tell me," he said.

"Tell you what?"

"Everything, anything you want to," he said with a smile. He settled against the headboard with his legs stretched out, the picture of ease and relaxation.

"Hmm," Rogue said, biting her lip. She racked her brain for something she could tell him that was interesting. Whenever someone straight asks for stories of your life, the brain draws a blank. They flow naturally, not on demand.

"Did you have a pet as a child?" Gambit prompted, sensing her hesitation.

"Yes, we had a cat for awhile named Butter."

"Butter?" Gambit repeated with a grin.

"Yes," Rogue said defensively. "He was a yellow cat!"

Gambit managed to wrangle a polite smile to his face. "She sounds sweet…and not overweight at all."

Rogue smacked him. "Anyways!"

"Favorite book?"

"Cleopatra: A Life."

"What's your real favorite book?"

She glared. "Fine, it's Ice Station but I like Cleopatra, too!"

"Military thrillers, chère look at you!" Gambit grinned. "No erotica?"

"I'm gonna break your nose."

Gambit laughed. "Where would you be if you weren't here?"

Rogue's face sobered at this, eyes turning to her hands in her lap. Gambit groaned and wanted to hit himself. Pasts weren't exactly topics either of them openly discussed and this question was dangerously close to hard topics.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no it's okay," she said, brushing off his concern. "I don't see this as someplace I was forced to end up, but somewhere I'm glad I am."

"That's entirely too healthy."

Rogue laughed. "Mental health isn't something I'm often accused of," she said. "But if I wasn't at Xavier's, I'd want to be…somewhere warm, but only if I didn't absorb everyone in their bikinis."

"And so we shall!" Gambit said, springing to his feet. Rogue jumped in surprised as he ripped through a nearby magazine, pulling out a page. He held it up in front of her. She took in the sandy beach scene punctuated by a woman in a very small swimsuit. "This," he said, flicking the picture, "is what we're going to do!"

"The Corona girl?"

"No! The white sandy beach, drinks in coconuts, nude beaches," he said with a wink.

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Yeah that'll be great, I'd literally have boobs of death."

"Non," Gambit said cheerfully. "This will be the reward. Once you gain control, we're going to Fiji."

Rogue grinned. "Fiji?"

"Hawaii is too commercial. My family has a very private property in Fiji." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead quickly before he could feel a tingle. "You'll get this chère, I have every confidence in you."

"If you place bets on this, I'll absorb you."

"I would never!"

It went on for months. Rogue was finally getting used to the feeling of her skin being touched. Logan and Gambit would go between surprising Rogue by touching her or having her intentionally absorb them, working out the kinks, the feelings, and differences in each. Progress showed when each time when she tried to withhold absorption, the process became slower and slower until…

"Chère, we've been watching this movie for twenty minutes," Gambit said.

"I know," she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"I've been holding your hand," he pointed out.

"I know," she grumbled, focus still on Star Trek.

"Rogue, I'm not wearing any gloves."

Rogue frowned and slowly moved her eyes down to where sure enough, his skin was touching hers. "No…"

"Oui."

"No..ah!" She jerked her hand back when the familiar pull of an absorption sluggishly started. Rogue stared at him, eyes wide. Gambit's face was stretched in a wide grin.

"Focus," he said calmly, holding his hand out in front of her. "Focus on what it felt like for your skin to be off and make it happen again."

Rogue closed her eyes and felt the tingling of her skin that she once took for normal but now knew was the feeling of her skin readying itself to suck the life out of someone. "Defense mechanism," she muttered. "It's just supposed to be a defense mechanism, not a state of being."

Gambit sat quietly while Rogue gathered herself. She imaged a huge master switch in her mind and shut it off, cutting power to her skin. She slowly extended her hand to touch his, deciding to believe that it would work.

Gambit broke into a huge smile. The pull he usually felt was gone, Rogue's hand being just a warm hand. He lunged forward, capturing Rogue's lips with his, his hands feverishly roaming over her face and neck. Rogue hungrily responded, fingers finding as much of his skin as possible.

"Holy SHIT!"

They looked up to see Jubilee in the doorway, mouth open and eyes wide. A gruff call of, "What?" came from down the hall.

"Uhm, nothing Logan! Go back to your beer!" Jubilee yelled back. "Oh my god," she mouthed. "Go! Before he comes in here!"

Word that Rogue could touch spread through the mansion like a Jubilee-ignited wildfire. Dozens tried to congratulate her but quickly learned that being anywhere near Rogue or Gambit's rooms was a god-awful plan. Logan's nose was twitching with all kinds of smells he never wanted to experience. Only Storm kept him from tearing Gambit apart, reminding him that Rogue was 25 and could handle herself. She also pointed out that he still smelled like whatever chick he went home with from the bar the night before, at least Rogue was in a committed relationship. She hadn't thought it was possible for Logan to turn that red.

"Don't you dare make us late to the airport!" Rogue yelled over to Gambit who was packing his things. Half of his suitcase was already filled with teeny tiny bikinis for Rogue, leaving very little room for anything of his. "I'm not wearing all those swimsuits!"

"Some are lingerie," he assured her, stuffing in a few shirts into the overflowing bag.

"Tomorrow, we're going to be lounging on beaches, swimming…"

"Nude beaches," Gambit said with an eyebrow wiggle.

"I'll still break your nose."

A/N So I have a lot of random letters of the alphabet outlined, though in writing I'm only a chapter ahead. Anyone have any suggestions for E?