In this chapter: Day 2, Continued (30 pages)
1) Ticks! And Revelations
2) Scott/Betsy
3) Practicing
PLEASE REVIEW! I want to prove to my husband that people actually enjoy my writing and that I'm not wasting my time. He was shocked that some are saying it's 'so good I nearly skipped work' (thanks AJ!)
Even if you find things you don't like, or discover little errors or issues, I want to hear about it (I also want to hear what works and compliments, too, though). I'd like to know that people are still interested in reading it and that finishing the story is worth my time.
Thanks to Lily578, immaMillipede, FenellaG, and A.J. LiViNg LiFe; as well as firelizard101, and the handful of guests and anons that reviewed! I'm so happy you guys are loving the story!
*Compliments of Remy LeJeune, the 'real-life' Remy LeBeau I met on FB recently. He has so many similarities to the character it is almost eerie, and has become a bit of an expert on Gambit. Thanks to him for letting me pick his brain about our favorite Cajun.
** Nod to X-Men, the Movie (#1)
***Quote from Rogue in X-Men Unlimited Vol 1, Issue 29
Day Two
~X~X~X~X~X~
The endless sea of trees, shrubs, and flowers - which had been so breathtaking and wondrous on the first day - was now annoyingly redundant to the two young mutants. After Rogue's little 'episode' with the bees, they'd gone for more water and continued walking again. Remy had carried Rogue for nearly an hour before she'd insisted that he take a break and get more water. But, after walking on her own for so long, Rogue was tiring quickly.
Remy noted with concern how exhausted she seemed despite her attempts to mask it. He smiled at her stubborn tenacity. They'd forced down the bitter dandelion leaves, and had even eaten the flowers, too. It was something, but just like the grubs, the flowers didn't quite sit right in their stomachs, and the two had found themselves needing frequent bathroom and water breaks. The novelty - and optimism - of their situation was quickly wearing off. But despite the lack of physical comforts, both mutants were feeling more connected and less 'alone', than they'd ever felt before.
Something was blooming between them. They both felt it, yet stubbornly refused to admit it. Remy at least recognized - and understood - his growing feelings for Rogue. He'd made close connections with women before, but none of them quite like this. Remy LeBeau had an almost preternatural 'sense' of a person's character, and Rogue was by far the most intriguing person he'd ever met. Even though they'd been forced into close proximity, the Cajun knew that he and the X-Man truly were kindred spirits. He only hoped that they could remain friends after this was over and they both returned to their very different lives - and teams.
Rogue, on the other hand, had no experience or frame of reference for her shifting emotions and hormones. Therefore, she remained in a state of utter denial. She actually thought Gambit was a pretty decent guy, and he certainly wasn't the fiendish villain she'd first thought he was. Overall, he'd been quite a gentleman considering the circumstances. Sure, he teased and flirted shamelessly, but she also trusted that he wouldn't actually do anything vulgar or licentious.
Walking side by side in comfortable silence, they were both lost in their separate, but extremely similar, thoughts. Rogue, however, was ruminating a little too deeply, and her fatigue - not to mention the stinging pains in her feet and legs - caused her foot to drag a little too low on the uneven ground.
She tripped, a gasp barely escaping her lips before Remy was catching her by the forearms. Her hands crashed into his chest as he held her upright.
"Whoa dere, petite," he smiled down at her knowingly, his face impossibly close to hers. "Mebbe it's time we take a break, non?"
"Ah - ah'm fine," Rogue argued, but her flushed face belied her conviction. She also hadn't removed her hands from his chest as she stared into his red and black orbs.
This time Remy rolled his eyes as he reached forward and casually tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He was heartened to see that - for the first time - she did not flinch away from his touch; yet, she still tensed as if she were fighting the reaction.
"Well, I'm hot, anyhow," the Acolyte shrugged as Rogue finally removed her hands from his uniform-covered chest. "And I wanna check that bee sting on y'r back; make sure it ain't swellin'."
Rogue licked her lips as she watched Gambit peel off the black cowl covering his forehead, neck, and part of his face, then shrug out of the top half of his uniform. He let the torso of his outfit hang from the waist and tucked the cowl into his front pocket.
The southern girl swallowed hard as Remy took her hand and inspected the back of it. He brushed his thumb over the site, gently rubbing off what was left of the dried mud.
"So, uh," Rogue started, swallowing the butterflies stuck in her throat, "was that dandelion mud somethin' you made up on the fly, or was it something you picked up somewhere?"
A half smile crept onto his face as he released Rogue's hand and walked around to examine the sting on her back. It was right above the hem of the dress, just to the side of her armpit, and he brushed the dried mud from that spot as well. "Old bayou trick," he replied. "Right up dere with 'Never trust a floating log or a street salesman.' De right combo a mud and herbs can cure anyt'ing."
He picked up a bit more dirt and snagged more of the dandelion stems from his pocket to create more of the emergency poultice. "Dandelion milk's good for lots of little ailments like dis. We should probably use 'em for those wounds on y'r legs, too. Just wit'out de mud a'course. Only problem is de milk has potassium salts - would sting like un salaud." (a bast #%)
Rogue pursed her lips as Gambit slathered more of the muddy concoction on the spot on her back. "Maybe we can try a few spots when we call it a night, then," she suggested warily. "Ah ain't really keen on addin' MORE pain t' mah feet right now, even if it does help in the long run."
The Acolyte nodded knowingly. "Je te comprends (I understand you). How's de pain for dese stings? Dey're lookin' pretty good at least. No swellin' or heat - just a bit irritated an' red."
Rubbing her thumb over the sting on her other hand, Rogue smiled softly. "It's great, actually. Barely even feel it. You do good work… for an Acolyte," she added, teasing.
"Well, I do tr - hold still," from behind her, Remy suddenly turned serious, putting a hand on her shoulder. He must have sensed her sudden tension as he quickly explained.
"Ain't de guards or anything, just thought I seen…" he trailed off. Standing behind her, his hand snaked forward to rest on her jaw so he could tilt her head. Softly, he pulled her disheveled hair to the side, letting it fall away from her right ear. Finally, he used his thumb to pull the delicate cartilage away from her skull and cursed lightly.
"What? What is it?" Rogue asked, her voice tight from both tension and … other emotions. She could ignore her feelings all she wanted, but there was absolutely no denying how her body reacted to his soft, firm touch.
"Tick," he replied tersely. "Embedded behind y'r ear. Can't believe Gambit didn't think t' check for 'em sooner."
"Well neither did Ah, if that makes y'all feel any better," she joked lightly. Even when Gambit removed his hand, she didn't move her head. She heard him extend the tweezers on the pocket knife with a soft click, and stood motionless as he gently grasped her ear again, pulling it away so he could see better.
She felt the tweezers scrape along the sensitive skin and tried not to fidget as Remy worked to remove the offensive arachnid. Ironic, Rogue thought, that she had just argued with the cajun about how spiders were relatively harmless, beneficial creatures, and here she had its cousin - another arachnid - feeding on her blood and potentially infecting her with Lyme disease.
"Foie de merde!" Remy exclaimed suddenly, cursing loud enough to make her jump. "De damn head popped off. Mouth parts are still in dere an' dese tweezers are practically worthless."
Rogue resisted the urge to try and dig it out with her fingernails, instead. The thought of the little creature's mandibles being stuck in her skin gave her the creeps. "Can - can you use the blade instead?" she suggested somewhat calmly.
"Non, it's at de wrong angle. Don't wanna risk nickin' ya. Dis blade ain't exactly sanitary, hein?" He fussed with something behind her for a moment before Rogue felt him drip more of the dandelion milk where the tick had been. He quickly packed it with more of what she assumed was the mud/milk poultice, then began pulling her hair up. When he ran two fingers along her neck and shoulder, Rogue finally bristled, turning back toward him sharply.
"What do you think you're doin?" she snapped, folding her arms tightly over her chest.
"I'm just checkin' for others, chere," he answered, his brows furrowed in confusion. "We don't want dose t'ings feastin' on us f'r days on end. Not t' mention de diseases dey could be carryin'. Best t' get 'em off now and check a couple times a day f'r more."
Rogue started to argue, anger and fear flashing briefly in her eyes before she deflated. She really couldn't disagree with his logic, and she REALLY didn't want the little buggers engorging themselves on her blood.
"Alright, FINE," she conceded. "But keep y'r hands OFF mah … other … stuff."
"What other stuff?" Gambit snorted. "D'ya mean y'r ASS…? Or y'r … BREASTS, mebbe?" His eyes danced devilishly. "Or do you mean your…"
"All of it!" she hissed angrily. Her face was bright red as she cut him off, and Gambit had to stifle his laughter at her discomfort.
"Alright, alright," Remy held his hands up, still fighting not to chuckle. "I promise ah won't touch any of y'r … lady bits."
Rogue's face flamed again and the cajun dropped his head, a small snort finally escaping.
"Here," he commanded, still smiling, "hold y'r arms out in front of ya."
Silently, she did as told and watched as Remy inspected her skin with all the care and professionalism of an art appraiser. He rubbed his fingers over a few moles, double checking a handful of dark spots on her arms.
Truth be told, her skin was fairly flawless since she'd worn long sleeves and pants for as long as she could remember. She had never spent much time in the sun because of the 'skin condition' Irene had made up, so she didn't have many freckles or sun spots.
Remy came along her side, grasping her elbow and lifting one arm above her head. Rogue jerked suddenly when he ran his fingers along the inside of her armpit, but he stopped her from dropping her arm.
"Got another one," he warned, leaning in with his pocket knife. "Hold still, chere, dis may tickle."
Rogue swallowed and used her opposite hand to hold her arm still. As Remy carefully adjusted the tweezers and used his free hand to manipulate the skin of her armpit, Rogue flinched slightly and had to stifle a giggle.
"Got 'em," Remy stated triumphantly. He placed the offending arachnid on a small rock then smashed it with another pebble. "Normally y'r supposed t' save dese for testing, but I sure don' wanna hold onto it."
He checked her back and shoulders, then her other armpit before moving down to her legs. He found a third behind her knee and successfully pulled that tick out as well before smashing it.
"How about y'r back, chere?" Rmey asked as he finally stood behind her.
"You already checked mah back." Rogue reminded him, turning her head.
He chuckled. "Shoulders, yes. I meant y'r lower back - BELOW de dress."
She paled, turning to face him and folding her arms tightly over her chest. "Uh, no. Ah don't think so Cajun."
He shrugged. "Suit y'rself. But I can slide dat zipper down easy as pie without seeing anything."
Rogue bit her lip, considering. Remy had already pulled a total of three ticks off her, and the thought of having more of them hitchhiking on her body made her skin crawl.
"You -" she started, blushing nervously as she forced herself to meet his eyes. "You SWEAR you won't sneak a peak or touch anything… private?" Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she squared her jaw to mask her apprehension.
"I SWEAR, Rogue." His eyes were serious and compassionate without being condescending or patronizing. "Remy's a gentleman, remember?" He smiled again and took her hand, kissing the back of her knuckles reassuringly.
She swallowed hard, but turned, holding the front of the dress up with her hands as Remy stepped closer and carefully unlaced the garment. The southern girl kept her arms clamped tightly against her sides, preventing the fabric from shifting or slipping.
Gambit quickly examined her back, only brushing one or two places with a single finger as he checked her skin. True to his word, he was a consummate professional and a gentleman.
"Can Gambit check y'r hip, here?" he asked, gently brushing over her dress on the right side. "I THINK I see something, but 'm not sure."
Holding the dress up with one hand, Rogue wordlessly loosened her grip on the right side of the dress, twisting slightly so Gambit could get a better look. His finger ghosted over the spot, which was still partially concealed by her dress.
"Feels like another one, but I can't get a good angle unless we shift de dress more." Remy was perched on the balls of his feet, staring intently at the spot. He had stopped unlacing the dress just above the swell of her backside, allowing her the privacy she so desperately required.
"Don't you DARE look up," Rogue growled. Without being asked, Rogue rolled the rest of the dress down with one hand so the top of it hung off the protruding bones of her pelvis. Her other hand remained over her chest, carefully covering her top half.
Remy paused, somewhat shocked by her quick and unexpected action, but he remained silent as he focused his gaze on her hip. A few moments later, Rogue heard him smash another arachnid between the rocks and she swallowed hard.
"M-might as well check the front half too," she stammered. "Just don't -"
"I won't look, I promise," he cut her off. His eyes never strayed from her midsection as Rogue turned to face him, a hot flush washing her face and shoulders in pink.
Deftly, he examined her stomach, his eyes never straying below the drooping black garment or up where her arms covered her chest. He silently pulled another tick from inside her belly button and Rogue shuddered with revulsion and a bit of ticklishness.
"Don't wanna put dat milk in y'r navel - could attract other pests or grow bacteria or som'pin."
The young woman nodded and shifted her arms slightly so the juncture between her breasts and stomach was more visible. "They like the warmth, right? What about …" she cleared her throat as she flushed a deeper red.
Remy gave her side smile and checked the underside of her bosom quickly.
"Clean," he announced a moment later before he moved behind her again and readjusted her dress, tying it back up in an almost clinical manner.
Rogue sighed in relief, but paled when she turned around to see Remy removing his pants.
"Wha - what are ya doing?" she asked, completely taken aback. The entire situation had her so discombobulated she could barely think straight.
He tilted his head at her as if it was obvious. "Gettin' undressed," he answered, somewhat confused by her reaction. When she still didn't seem to understand, he elaborated. "So you can check moi?"
"Oh!" she inhaled sharply and smacked herself on the forehead. "Oh yeah, duh." She flushed again and dropped her head, averting her gaze until he was finished removing his clothes.
That wicked, knowing smirk was back on his face in an instant. "Why, chere? What did YOU think Gambit was doin'?"
Rogue swallowed hard, but looked up narrowing her eyes at him. "Oh shut up and turn around already, Cajun!" she commanded.
With an almost clinical detachment, Rogue quickly examined Remy, pulling no less than ten small ticks from his body. Despite her calculating and disinterested expression, her hands had shaken so badly that she'd failed to fully remove at least three of the ticks - accidentally leaving the mouth parts embedded in his skin. Awkwardly, she'd made some of his poultice and smeared it on the spots, apologizing profusely.
"Why so jittery, chere?" Remy asked quietly as the young woman returned the pocket knife and wrapped her arms around herself. She was acting more shy and embarrassed about her brief examination of his body than she had when he was checking hers.
She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.
Remy took a step forward, gingerly pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger so she was forced to meet his eyes.
"Talk t' me, petite," he coaxed kindly. "I can't help you work through this - help stop Apocalypse - if you don't tell me what y'r thinkin'."
Rogue swallowed hard as he released her, and she shrunk deeper into herself, her pink blush darkening again. "I - Ah've never…" She stopped, unable to finish her thought as hot, angry tears suddenly filled her eyes.
Silent and sullen, she turned face away.
"Never what?" Remy asked quietly, his thumb moving up to brush the pooling tears from her eyes. "Never touched someone b'fore? Never BEEN touched?"
Without meeting his eyes, Rogue shrugged one shoulder, pursing her lips as she hid her face behind a curtain of tangled, dirty hair.
"I see," Remy replied. He watched her solemnly; she seemed so small and meek compared to the sassy, hotheaded girl who'd thrown rocks at him and dunked him in the river.
"Well d'en," he exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, "think it's time we changed dat, n'est pas?"
Rogue's head whipped around to stare at him, her mouth dropping open in shock.
"Wh -What? What d'ya…? Uh…"
Remy chuckled as she stammered. She had that 'deer in the headlights' look in her eye again and he knew the southern girl was fighting the urge to bolt.
He took her hand, rubbing small circles near the bee sting without touching it. "Nothin' inappropriate, I swear," he winked. "Just close y'r eyes an' trust me."
She laughed loudly, but mirthlessly, her eyes shining even as her voice darkened. "Trust YOU? With what? Petting? Groping? I don't - What are you tryin' t' get at here, Gambit?" she hissed with barely restrained contempt. Despite the venom in her voice, however, she still hadn't pulled her hand back. "If you're just tryin' t'cop a feel or something, Ah swear t' God ah'm gonna knock you six ways from Sunday!"
"Rogue!" Remy grasped her face with both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eyes. He couldn't turn up his charm ability and convey his feelings with his empathic powers, so he hoped she could at least read the honesty in his gaze.
"I am NOT trying to 'cop a feel'. You have my word," he insisted, his voice low and succinct as he enunciated each word. "I will NOT do anything inappropriate, or that makes you uncomfortable, okay?"
The X-Man was silent, but the stubborn jut of her chin and the fury in her eyes conveyed more than words ever could.
Gambit continued, undeterred. "You're scared t' death of touchin' others - of BEIN' touched - but you have no way of knowin' how GOOD it can be. How can ya swear off all physical contact if you don't know what it is y'r missing?"
Rogue's sneer and the disdain in her eyes faltered, and he felt her chin twitch slightly between his hands. He dropped them to her shoulders when she pulled her head away and tried to step back, but he refused to let her break the contact.
Rogue reached up with both hands and grabbed his wrists, feebly trying to pull his hands off her shoulders. The action lacked any conviction, however, and she simply held his wrists and turned her face away from him again.
"TALK t' me, Rogue. Please?" His entreaty, soft and beseeching, crumbled the last of her contemptuous resolve and a rogue tear finally trickled down her face.
Neither of the mutants removed their hands, and after a few minutes of silence, Rogue finally spoke.
"I - Ah ain't SCARED," she started hesitantly, "Ah just… I know ah can never HAVE it. Not without hurtin' someone. Ah don't touch people, even with mah gloves on, because ah DO get a little taste of what ah'm missin'."
Her voice broke and, although he couldn't see her face, Remy knew how lost and alone she must have looked.
"You don't know what it's like," she admitted softly, using her hair as a barrier to protect herself from his gaze. "Keepin' everyone away just t' keep 'em safe? How LONELY it is. And every time you touch me, or Ah touch YOU, it's like a reminder of what ah… of what ah can n-never HAVE. And it just, it makes it so much harder knowin' - knowin' what Ah'm going back to…" Rogue sniffled as her chest heaved in a barely contained sob, and Remy pulled her into his chest, wrapping her in a comforting hug.
He wanted to tell her that he DID understand what she was going through, possibly better than anyone. His own powers had forced him into isolation - into an impossible decision and one of the worst mistakes of his life. He knew first hand how lonely that kind of life was.
But he couldn't bring himself to tell her, to explain how much he sympathized with her situation. He couldn't tell her that his own greatest fear mirrored her own - to live a life of forced loneliness and isolation because of his powers. *
Rogue's arms remained at her sides, neither reciprocating or pulling away from Remy's embrace, but she leaned her cheek against his bare chest as if she needed some kind of touchstone.
"Once this is over -" she continued softly, her voice muffled against his chest, "ah'll be right back where ah was. Ah'll never be able to touch again - a handshake, a hug, a … a KISS **- but it'll be a thousand times worse, 'cause then Ah'll actually know what Ah've been missin'."
"You don't need skin to skin to TOUCH, chere," Remy reminded her gently, his arms still enveloping her. "Y' don't need t' keep y'r distance when y'r always covered up. Y'r friends know better, and they ain't gonna fault ya if ya accidentally absorb 'em when y'r always so careful."
Rogue pulled back a little, shaking her head as she looked up at him. "You don't get it, Remy," she tried to explain. "They ARE scared of me, even when Ah am covered up. They're terrified of what Ah might do, or what Ah might see. It's kinda like how people act around telepaths - nervous and fidgety that they're gonna think about something embarrassin' - but telepaths don't usually leave ya unconscious or with a migraine when they touch ya."
The X-Man dropped her head again, hiding behind her hair once more as deep sadness flooded her voice. "Ah'll never be able t' touch someone without absorbin' 'em; without hurtin' 'em. Ah'll never be able t' date, or get married, or... or anything ah've ever dreamed of doin'." Her shoulders shook and Remy pulled her closer.
"You can always work on learning how t' touch, right?" he questioned, his cajun patois smoothing into to a more optimistic mood.
Rogue snorted derisively. "Ah'd need someone t' PRACTICE with t' do that, and ain't no one gonna lineup t' let me see all their dirty secrets."
Well, he couldn't exactly argue with THAT. Remy himself had many skeletons in his closet, and he definitely wouldn't want to accidentally share them with her - or anyone for that matter.
He shrugged. "Mebbe so, but ya don't have t' be ALONE, Rogue. Even if ya never learn t' control y'r powers. Dere are ways around 'em, and d' right guy won't care if ya can't touch skin t' skin."
The young woman barked with derision. "Yeah right, that'd be some guy. Can only imagine how the wedding night would go."
Remy leaned down, smirking into her ear. "Like I said, chere, dere ARE ways around dat, especially with de right… equipment."
Rogue was suddenly glad her travel companion couldn't see her face, because she must have turned as red as his eyes.
"Great," she murmured, ignoring his suggestive comment. "Now ah just gotta find a guy who doesn't need to touch, is disturbingly creative, and doesn't want any kids." Her voice muffled as she pressed her cheek against his chest and shoulder. "That should be pretty simple."
Remy's brows furrowed deeply. "You already thinkin' about kids, chere?" he joked despite his growing unease.
"Nope," she answered honestly, yet curtly, "Ah CAN'T think of kids 'cause Ah can't HAVE kids."
He felt her chin quiver against his chest and he hated himself for opening that can of worms.
"The Professor and Dr. McCoy - Beast - sat down with me a while back, right after ah found out about Mystique. Ah made some crack about how low the bar was for me t' be a better mom than her, and … and they explained it."
Rogue took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. "Ah don't know why, but for some reason ah'd always told myself that if I could just learn t' control mah powers ah could still have the kind of life ah'd always wanted. Get married, have a couple kids… Turns out that with the way mah powers work my body would just absorb the …" she paused as her throat constricted, "and ah'd never even know."
She laughed ironically, "On the bright side, ah guess ah'll never need birth control, huh?"
Remy couldn't help chuckling at her poor attempt at a joke, but he squeezed her a little tighter, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
After a few minutes of silence, Remy posed a completely off topic question.
"Do you ever wish dat you'd never seen y'r neighbor's dog? De border collie?"
Rogue's brows furrowed in confusion as she pulled back to look at Gambit. "Well that was a smooth transition," she teased, but took a calming breath. "No, ah reckon not."
"Even though it makes ya sad t' think about it?" he asked earnestly.
"Nah. She was the sweetest," the southern girl admitted after a moment of consideration. " It might be sad thinking about her, but Ah'm glad for the time Ah got with her, at least. If Ah hadn't met her in the first place, ah never would have known what that kind of love felt like."
"So how is this any different?" he asked, stroking her cheek with the back of one hand while his other rubbed up and down her arm. "Why not seize de opportunity while y' got it, non? It might make ya sad sometimes, but at least y'd know."
Rogue shifted uncomfortably and pulled away, taking a step back so she was out of his reach. Although she had been the one to break contact, she felt the chill of loss and loneliness as soon as they were no longer touching.
"Ah -" she stuttered, trying to make her brain think logically again. "Ah don't… It's not… It's not the same thing." Her voice was resolute, but her eyes lacked conviction.
"If it makes ya more comfortable, Remy'll keep his hands to himself, and you can go first."
The X-Man blanched at his proposal.
"Gambit, that's… it's not that simple," she growled. She ran a hand through her tangled locks as her frustration grew. She couldn't tell him all the OTHER reasons she didn't want to touch him, but for some reason he wasn't going to let this go.
"Here's what IS simple, chere," Remy sighed, "Apocalypse is countin' on your aversion t' touch. He NEEDS you t' be skittish, and scared, and angry t' make dat ritual work. So we either work on it, or we got no hope of beatin' him."
Gambit knew Rogue was leery about anything physical, and he absolutely understood her reasons for isolating herself, but he also knew they were playing a losing game. Odds were they were either going to die out here or get caught by Apocalypse. And if Rogue was captured, they would need every card in their deck stacked against the megalomaniac. They simply couldn't afford for her to be skittish any longer.
"I know y'r scared - of how ya feel, of the future, of bein' alone; all of it. Trust me, I KNOW what y'r goin' through. But ya gotta let me help ya work past it, d'accord?"
Remy took her hand, lifting it to his bare chest and cupping it to his heart as he gazed in her eyes. "I ain't suggestin' anything inappropriate, je te le jure. (I swear to you). Just… trust me."
Even though he didn't break eye contact, he saw her swallow hard as she squared her jaw.
Rogue didn't remove her hand from over Remy's heart. She knew she had to do this. He was absolutely right - she WAS scared, but she also couldn't afford to let that fear be used against her to help Apocalypse. Like it or not, she HAD to get over her aversion to touch - both mentally and physically - if she wanted to stop that madman from turning her into his slave.
The Cajun talked a big game - promising her she would be safe, that he wouldn't let Apocalypse take her - but she knew it was all grandstanding. The Acolyte wouldn't be able to take on those guards by himself. But, if Rogue were captured, she didn't doubt Gambit would either die trying to save her, or be captured himself.
The thought nearly made her weep. He had been so compassionate, accommodating, and gentlemanly over the last three days. Even though they were on opposing 'teams,' Gambit had treated her much the same as any of her friends at the Institute would, if not better. She wondered briefly if they would be able to stay in contact after this was all over…
Regardless, after everything he'd done for her, and everything they'd been through, the least she could do was TRY and trust him, right?
After a few minutes of silence, Remy was certain Rogue would rebuff his proposal again, so he was surprised by her quiet, timid acceptance.
"O-okay," she whispered, taking another deep breath. "Ah'll try." She exhaled all at once, as if the words themselves had taken a great deal of effort.
Remy smiled again, pride and endearment shining in his eyes as he released her hand on his chest and cupped her cheek.
"Merci. Thank you, Rogue." With his other hand, he lifted hers to his lips, lightly kissing the knuckles just below her bee sting.
The southern girl couldn't stop the slight flush that rose on her cheeks. For some reason she suddenly felt like a schoolgirl being asked out on her first date. Although, this was likely to be a much more intimate - and much more AWKWARD - encounter.
"What, um," she stammerd nervously, "what do you have in mind?"
Remy smiled, a half tilt of his lips that sent butterflies and nervousness through her veins.
"Just touchin'. Whatever feels natural an' good."
When she gave him a suspicious look, he chuckled. "Nothin' inappropriate, and you get t' call de shots - for d' most part."
She tensed again, so he elaborated.
"You choose where and how, but Remy says how long. Can't put y'r hands on my forehead for 10 seconds and call it a day, non?"
Rogue rolled her eyes, but smirked. "So by that logic, ah could slap ya silly until you say 'when' and that'd still count?"
The Cajun raised an eyebrow at her. "If y'r feelin' so inclined, I suppose it's still touchin, n'est pas? (Is it not?) But I certainly hope ya don't waste de opportunity t' make dis count."
Snickering, Rogue folded her arms and considered his offer.
Finally she held her hand out for him to shake.
"Let's go to work then, Cajun. We have a world to save." ***
~X~X~X~
Scott Summers sighed as he lifted his hand to knock on Betsy Braddock's door. Xavier had insisted he see the 'grief counselor' before resuming any kind of leadership roles, or even participating in Danger Room sessions, and since he NEEDED an outlet for his emotions right now, here he was.
Cyclops wore his plain street clothes and, despite the warm weather, the green sweater Rogue had given him for Christmas a few years ago. He knew it was silly wearing a sweater in June, but since Xavier had practically stolen his uniform, it felt… appropriate somehow.
His knuckles rapped a bit too loudly on the solid wood, but the sting barely registered as he clenched his jaw. Scott felt like a child being sent to the principal's office for misbehaving when he was really just misunderstood. Of course, it didn't help that he wanted to punch someone right now - namely The Professor for sending him here in the first place.
The young, purple haired telepath opened the door and smiled, albeit very lightly. She likely already knew Cyclops wasn't here by his own free will, but Scott didn't really care at the moment.
"Come in, Mr. Summers," Ms. Braddock ushered, widening the door just enough for him to brush past her. "Won't you have a seat?" She asked politely, gesturing to the two plush armchairs in the middle of the room.
"I'd rather stand, thanks," he bit out. He folded his arms defiantly as he watched her walk to the dresser and pour a cup of tea.
"I presume you're not in the mood for tea, either?" Her clipped British tone was light and warm despite Scott's obvious ire.
"No… thank you." The young man recovered his manners just slightly as he answered. Although his anger was directed more at Xavier and himself, he realized it was bleeding through toward Ms. Braddock, which wasn't fair to her.
"You're not here by choice, I take it?" Betsy smirked as she added a lump of sugar and stirred her cup before turning to sit in one of the chairs. Her long, slender legs crossed over one another gracefully, almost sensuously, as she leaned back and watched the young man who was scarcely younger than she herself.
"What gave it away?" He snipped, rolling his eyes behind his ruby visor.
"I didn't read your mind, if that's what you're thinking," the telepath assured him. "Your body language is hostile, as is your expression. No one who comes to me willingly does so with that level of anger and aggression."
The young man took a deep breath through his nose, trying to quell his frustrations so they could just get this over with. "Yes, I'm angry. I'm angry at the Professor for making me do this. I'm angry at myself for not noticing something was wrong with Rogue. I'm angry that we failed. I'm angry that we couldn't stop Apocalypse from…" His voice cracked and he paused to clear the emotion from his throat.
"I'm just… angry."
"Well," Betsy started, taking a sip of tea, "let's start with Charles. Besides insisting that you talk to someone about your feelings, why else are you angry at him?"
"I - I don't know," Scott faltered, suddenly uneasy as he turned away to look out the window at the horizon.
The purple haired woman smirked over her cup. "Just a stab in the dark here, but could it be because he's a telepath - supposed to KNOW when something is wrong with one of his students?"
The team leader shifted his weight uncomfortably, the tension in his crossed arms easing slightly. "I don't know. I guess, maybe."
"What is it exactly that Charles teaches you here, if I may ask?" the telepath asked, placing her cup on the small coffee table in front of her chair.
"To control our powers. Use them for good. To help people." Scott answered automatically, as if it had been replayed and rehearsed dozens of times.
"Yes, yes, of COURSE that, but …" she seemed to hesitate, trying to decide how to articulate the things she wished to say. "Don't you ever tire of altruism? Don't you wish you could just use your powers however you want?"
Scott's anger was quickly replaced by confusion as he stared at the 'grief counselor' with a raised eyebrow. "Not usually, no." The tension returned to his body as he appraised the young woman Xavier supposedly trusted. "Sometimes, sure, but I - I believe in the X-Men. I believe in what the Professor is trying to do."
"Right, right." She waved her hand as if it were just an errant thought. "But you never, I don't know… wish Charles would let you all use your powers as you see fit? Consequences be dashed?"
The team leader stepped back, alarmed. What kind of 'trusted' grief counselor was this woman anyhow? He'd come in to get help with his 'anger issues' and she was talking like one of Magneto's Acolytes. "No! If every mutant just used their powers however they wanted it would be chaos! We want to live in PEACE with humans and mutants, not cause more fear and suffering."
"Well then, couldn't Charles go in people's minds and …" she made a gesture as if she were plucking something out of the air, "just MAKE them behave?"
"He would never do that," Scott defended angrily. "The Professor never pushes his telepathy onto someone unless it's a last resort. And even THEN he doesn't try to change who they are. He believes in free will and self-discipline. He doesn't go traipsing through our minds eavesdropping and tweaking things at will. He's the most powerful telepath on the planet, but he would never willingly invade our privacy or manipulate us!"
"I see," Betsy replied calmly. She smiled compassionately, but with a hint of self-satisfaction. "So if he teaches you not to abuse your powers, and he doesn't abuse his own by reading minds, how do you suppose he would have sensed anything was wrong with Rogue?"
The X-Men's team leader stopped abruptly as he fell headlong into Betsy's logic puzzle. Sighing, he dropped his arms at his sides. "He … he couldn't have - unless he went against his own teachings and morals."
"So…" Ms. Braddock smiled like the cat who ate the canary, "are you TRULY mad at Professor Xavier, or just the situation?"
Scott threw his hands in the air and walked over to the window, placing his hands on the sill. "Alright, you win. You're right. I'm NOT angry at him. I'm just…"
"Misdirecting?" Betsy supplied, staying in the chair to allow the tormented young man some space.
"Mad at MYSELF," he finished hotly. "I'm not the Professor. I don't have a whole school to run. I - I should have SAW it… should have noticed."
Unexpectedly, Scott slammed his fist into the wall next to the window. "I'm supposed to be the leader! I'm supposed to take care of them, make sure they're safe. How could I… How could I not SEE it?! How could I have been so blind that I didn't know something was off with her?"
He hung his head as his voice lost its forcefulness. "Or worse, did I see it and just not care?"
"Well?" Betsy coaxed, shifting positions as she recrossed one sultry leg over the other slowly and deliberately. "DID you see it?"
Scott continued staring at the floor, oblivious to her sensual movements. "I - I don't know. I think - I think maybe I did." His eyes were starting to sting in a manner that had nothing to do with his mutant power.
"I saw the signs, you know. I watched her skipping meals, avoiding everyone, becoming more distant. She was always just so withdrawn; I don't know. I guess I figured she was just stressing about summer school and everything. And, well, Jean and I were talking about going away for college this year - upstate New York - and I thought maybe… maybe she was just bummed to see us go."
He sighed and continued staring at the floor, fighting some kind of internal battle.
Betsy raised an eyebrow, but gave him a few moments to reflect.
"Tell me Mr. Summers, what are you planning to study?"
So lost in his own turmoil, Scott didn't appear to hear her at first. "Huh? Oh, um, I'm undeclared right now. Jean is pretty sure she's going to be a doctor or something. I was kind of thinking of getting a teaching degree maybe."
"I see," Betsy gave him a little smile. "And, what are you thinking of teaching? Elementary Education perhaps? Secondary? Becoming a professor like Xavier?"
Frowning, Cyclops finally met the purple haired woman's eyes. "What? No." He shook his head, his expression darkening. "What does it matter? What does any of this have to do with Rogue?"
Betsy stood and walked gracefully to the window, gazing out at the many students who were out enjoying the fresh air and late afternoon sunlight. She motioned for Scott to join her.
"Tell me, what do you see?" she asked. Scott raised an eyebrow, but studied the children outside.
"I see Jubilee, Amara, and Tabitha sunbathing by the pool. Toad and Blob er, Todd and Fred, are doing SOMETHING with that rock, and the other students are playing football." He stared out at the various groups and sighed.
Betsy leaned against the window frame opposite of Scott and folded her arms over her chest. "And, does anything look amiss?"
Scott studied the faces of each student, as well as the surrounding areas, and finally shook his head.
"Ah, but looks can be deceiving." She gestured to the group of girls, where Tabitha was striking modeling poses in her bikini for the girls, but was quickly getting attention from some of the boys who were playing football.
"There are at least two students out there who are seriously considering leaving the institute altogether, another who is not so seriously entertaining thoughts of their own death, and nearly every one of them is filled with self-doubt and wondering what THEY could have done to save Rogue. Or, when their own ends will come…"
She headed back toward her chair and sat down, gracefully crossing one leg over the other again. Her skirt slid up to an almost indecent level, but Scott was too concerned with watching the students to even notice.
"Tell me, Mr. Summers, what are you going to do - personally - to help those students?"
Scott finally turned away from the window, his brow furrowed with concern. "Talk to them, I guess?" He glanced back to watch the children again, "Who needs help?"
Betsy smiled, but shook her head. "Well, unfortunately I cannot tell you that. Counselor confidentiality, you see." She watched Scott at the window. "People will only show you what they WANT you to see. If a student is struggling, and they don't want anyone to know, there is usually no way for the casual observer to note a difference. Unless they are projecting their thoughts and you are a telepath such as Charles or Jean, you won't know that they even have a problem. It's up to THEM to seek out help."
Walking over to the small dresser, Ms. Braddock picked up the photo of Rogue and held it gently in her hands. "The only thing YOU can do is try to be strong for them, and show them how to cope with their problems - the most significant of which stems from their own powers, and their fears of the future."
Betsy handed the picture to Scott, and he held it tight, studying the girl's sullen expression.
"Rogue was a special case, though, wasn't she?" The purple haired telepath smiled sympathetically as Scott's fingers smoothed over the glass.
He nodded. "She uh, she saved my life. More than once, actually. Mystique was using Rogue to get to us, and well, long story short, I got pushed off a cliff. She turned on Mystique, absorbed her memories, and pulled me up just before I fell. We still ended up in serious danger, but Rogue kept Mystique from killing me and helped the X-men find us. She was really good at thinking on her feet. I don't think I ever realized how good of a leader she could have been…"
Still staring at the picture, Scott sat down on the other chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he hunched over. "She saved Jean's life too. When Jean's powers went nuts a few years back, Rogue risked her own life to absorb some of Jean's energy and save her. She was the only reason we stopped Juggernaut, too. She took just enough of his power to give us a fighting chance. And then there was the Professor - I don't know if we ever would have found him without Rogue. I just - she's done so much for me, for the X-Men, and I couldn't, we couldn't…"
The picture drooped in Scott's right hand as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the other. Betsy quietly placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a few moments to process his emotions.
"They're all going to die, you know." Her voice was calm, almost emotionless as she turned away to stare out the window at the students.
"Wha - what?" Scott quickly replaced his glasses and turned angrily on the telepath.
"At some point or another - be it to old age, sickness, accident, battle, or tragedy - they will all die; be it after leaving the X-Men, or while fighting for them. Charles lives in an ideal world, but you have to understand - ALL of you - that when you do what you are doing here, you're risking your lives. I know Charles has tried to teach you how to fight, how to overcome, how to stay safe, but they're all still children. I think that you - and so many here - have started to think yourselves immune from true danger. You've won so many 'battles' and had so few casualties that it's easy to forget your own mortality."
"I haven't - We don't…" Scott sputtered for the right words as he sank farther into the chair, watching Ms. Braddock resume her seat across from him as anxiety and dread squeezed his chest.
"Any one of you could die at any time, and while you DO claim to understand that risk, this is your first time actually facing it." She placed a hand on Scott's left knee. "But it will not be the last."
"Things will only get harder for them, Scott." Betsy continued morosely. "They are growing up, and the dangers of this world - and others - are growing right along with them. And, some of them will perish."
Agitated, Scott stood and went to the window, looking out again at the students.
Betsy gave the young man his space, knowing the notion she'd planted was a bitter pill.
"You may not be the authority, Scott, but they do look up to you. You ARE their leader. The question now is this: are you truly ready for that role, and can you live with everything that comes with it? You can still have that 'normal' life you dream of, but are you willing to pay the price for it?"
Scott was silent.
"Whether you go to college, or devote your entire existence to the X-Men - to the many, many children who will come through these doors - to training them, to protecting them - there will be days when no matter what you have done, no matter what sacrifice you will make, it will NOT be enough."
The 19 year old second-in-command laid his arm against the window pane and rested his head on it. His breathing was deep and shaky as her words sunk in.
"And, knowing that you cannot save them all - that each day could literally be their last, or yours - the question you must answer is…What are you going to do with that knowledge? Part of you wants to leave this existence behind. Go to college, lead a 'normal' life. But you know where your heart lies; you KNOW where you truly belong, don't you?"
Still leaning on his arm against the window, Scott huffed loudly. "Yeah, I guess I do." He turned back to Betsy again, Rogue's picture still in his other hand. "But Rogue…"
Dr. Braddock stood again and put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "She is gone. But the others are not. You feel you've made mistakes with Rogue; that you've failed her somehow. The best way to correct that - to do right by her memory - is to not make the same mistakes with those who remain."
Scott handed the framed photo back to Betsy and nodded his thanks, taking his leave without another word.
~X~X~X~
"Nuh-uh, cherie. A deal's a deal, and you agreed t' play by Gambit's rules," he chided.
The two were still standing under the shade of the trees where they'd stopped to remove ticks. Rogue had her eyes closed, her hands on Gambit's bare chest, as she sneered at him. Her trepidation and timidness from earlier had faded, and nervousness had given way to contempt.
Rogue couldn't see his face, but she just KNEW he'd be wearing one of those arrogant smirks of his again. She attempted to wrench her hands free once more, but his grip was steady.
"Yeah," she retorted hotly, "Well, YOU promised you'd behave y'rself!" A third try to pull away yielded no results, so she resorted instead to glaring at him with her eyes closed.
Wait, WHY was she still closing her eyes? Heck if she knew… Yes, she COULD open her eyes at any time and glare at him more effectively, but honestly? She wasn't sure what kind of emotional reaction she'd have if she stared into his eyes right now.
Remy rolled his own eyes at the southern girl. Boy, but she was skittish, and STUBBORN. All he'd done was put her hands on his chest, and she was acting like he'd tried to scald her. He cringed to think of what her reaction had placed them somewhere else!
"Now, now, petite," he continued while still holding her wrists firmly, "Gambit never said he'd behave himself, just that he wouldn't do nothin' ...inappropriate." His mouth twitched into a smile as he watched her attempt to glare at him with her eyes closed. He was surprised that she didn't open them, but he wasn't going to complain.
Rogue's nose curled up in disdain. "Oh, so that wasn't inappropriate?" she asked. "Then what do YOU call it?"
"Tryin' t' save y'r ass."
Rogue opened her mouth to retort, but quickly closed it, opting instead for a skeptical expression.
With her eyes still closed, Rogue's rapidly evolving facial expressions were almost comical from Remy's perspective, especially when she raised an eyebrow to "gaze" at him doubtfully.
"Besides, if ya hadn't refused t' move y'r hands from m' shoulders, you'd still be de one in control here." Remy repositioned Rogue's hands on his chest. "Just trust me, Rogue. And try t' relax, eh? Y' look like you're gettin' a colonoscopy or something."
The young woman snorted and rolled her eyes behind her closed lids, but the tension in her back and shoulders eased somewhat as she took a deep breath.
With his hands still firmly grasping her wrists, Remy slowly brought Rogue's palms up to his shoulders and felt her fingers twitch as they brushed against his bare skin. Then, ever so slowly, he began to slide her hands downward over his biceps and back up to his neck. His grip on her continued to loosen as he guided her hands across his torso until his hands were mere shadows against hers. Eventually, even without Remy influencing her movements, her hands continued to roam and her expression softened into one of wonder and amazement.
Her eyes remained shut all throughout her silent explorations. She knew if she opened them, her emotions - not to mention hormones - would go into overdrive. With her eyes closed she could almost pretend this was a dream…
Rogue's hands ghosted over his pectorals, following every dip and curve. Her thumbs brushed against the outline of his collarbones almost reverently as she continued her quiet ministrations, and Remy had to stop himself from sighing contentedly. She smoothed her palms up over his shoulders slowly before inching down across his well-defined biceps again. She felt her way along every hill and valley of his muscular arms as if reading the Bible in Braille.
Her fingers lightly caressed his as she blindly examined the dry skin on the back of his hands, his calloused fingertips, and the deep planes of his palms. She frowned slightly when she discovered a sizable scar within the smooth flesh of his right palm, but said nothing.
Soon, her hands roamed back up over his wrists and forearms, stopping only to marvel silently at the defined matrix of veins and tendons there. Her fingers danced curiously over the roughness of his elbow before exploring the inside bend. She moved up to his shoulders and chest once again, marveling at the noticeable definition of his pectorals, and blushed deeply when her thumbs brushed over the little nubs of his masculine nipples.
Rogue felt Remy twitch when she brushed against the sensitive flesh, and she quickly moved her hands toward the center of his chest, feeling a small prickle of hair in the middle. The rest of his chest had been completely smooth save for this one patch, and it made her wonder…
"Do you… do you WAX your chest?" she asked him, her mouth twitching in a repressed smile while her eyes remained shut.
"N-no. Course not," Remy responded, but his voice shook ever so slightly.
Smirking, Rogue chose to let it go, and instead pursed her lips and let her hands glide over his chest and stomach once again.
She could feel his well-defined abdominal muscles and quietly counted them. Of course, she'd already SEEN his six pack abs, but it was another thing entirely to TOUCH them. Under her fingers, his skin was smooth and the muscles hard. She could trace the exact shape and size of his abdominal muscles, and took her time to explore.
In the middle of his abs, she found his belly button. Her thumb felt along the small divot, and as she circled it, Remy twitched again. Rogue stopped, momentarily confused, but after a moment of silence and stillness, she continued. His body language was not lost on her, however, and she merely pretended not to have noticed his instinctive reaction.
Indeed, Remy was fighting MANY reactions all at once. He had not bargained on how amazing her hands would feel as they drifted over his skin, and his body was quickly responding to her touch. He tried to clear all thought from his mind, tried to find his center, but his breathing was becoming more rapid and shallow with every moment. Then, when her thumb traced his belly button, he jumped as it sent shockwaves of ticklish pleasure through him. Thankfully, Rogue didn't seem to realize the effect she was having on him.
The southern girl moved her hands down, feeling a small patch of curly hair just below his belly button, and she followed it down to the waistband of his underwear, curious. When her fingers touched the elastic waistband, her hands moved to the sides, encircling his waist.
Rogue hesitated once again, unsure if she should continue or stop. Part of her wanted to touch every inch of his flesh, to revel in the sensations she'd been denied for so many years, and yet she was almost mortified at how intimate, awkward, and foreign this all was.
Eyes still closed, she swallowed hard and took a step back, slowly dragging herself away from the temptation, when Gambit's hands suddenly captured her wrists again and her eyes flew open. He was much more gentle this time, but his own eyes were closed now, and the huskiness in his voice almost startled her.
"Don' stop."
It was a command and a plea all in one, and he carefully lifted one of her hands in his and guided her around behind him, placing her hand on the back of his shoulder.
Timidly, Rogue's fingers raked over the plains and valleys of Remy's well defined back. His skin was smooth, and remarkably soft, with only a few scrapes and marks from recent wounds and old scars. She forced her eyes closed again as a familiar blush crept up her cheeks. For some reason, being unable to see what she was doing made her feel less embarrassed.
Getting lost in the luxurious feeling of his skin - warm and sweat kissed from the heat of the late afternoon - Rogue pressed her thumbs a little deeper into the fleshy parts of his back. She traced small, firm circles starting from the little divots of his hips and up the taut, thick muscles along either side of his spine.
Gambit sighed contentedly as Rogue rubbed his shoulders lightly, and she immediately blushed as the sound invoked a completely DIFFERENT response from her.
She continued on for a few more minutes, silently kneading his shoulders and back as she reveled in the feeling of her skin on his. She had been shy, and scared of touching him - along with everything it entailed - but now, she was grateful Remy had pushed the issue. He had been right; she hadn't known how GOOD touch could be.
Meanwhile, Gambit was becoming rather uncomfortable. Despite the fact that Rogue was giving him the most incredible massage of his life, he was not enjoying it. He tried not to fidget as he fought off his body's natural reaction to being touched so intimately.
What he'd thought would be a simple and innocent exercise to get her comfortable with skin to skin contact had quickly become anything but innocent for him. Never before had a woman so reverently and thoroughly explored his body, and he was struggling to behave himself like he'd promised. His hands itched to touch her, too, and he wanted nothing more than to follow every touch with his lips.
"How bout we sit?" He asked suddenly, startling her just enough that she finally DID open her eyes.
He turned to smile at her, but they were both caught off guard by the matching headiness in their gazes.
Rogue ducked her head, blushing deeply as she tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear. Meanwhile Gambit shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, turning away from her to look for a nice shady spot. He had to make sure she couldn't see how tight the front of his uniform had gotten.
"Ah, parfait!" He announced a little too loudly, and he cleared his throat again, adjusting his volume.
Taking Rogue's hand again, he led her to a large fallen tree that had splintered from its base. The pines and oaks of the forest had grown up around it, shading the area just enough to keep them cool and protected from the harsh rays of the sun.
Remy gave the log a few kicks, simultaneously making sure nothing was living under it and ensuring it was sturdy enough to hold their weight.
A few beetles and spiders scurried around on the fallen tree and the Cajun released Rogue's hand to casually brush them off before draping his coat over the log.
"There," he announced triumphantly as he straddled the log just above his coat. "Have a seat, chere." He patted the garment and smiled broadly.
Once again feeling timid and off-kilter, Rogue bit her lip and weighed her decision. She was tired and her feet hurt badly, but she was already feeling … strange … from their conversation, and from openly touching Remy.
The Acolyte reached forward and carefully took Rogue's hand again, pulling her closer and guiding her to sit on the lower end of the log next to him.
He could sense that she seemed to have lost her nerve, and he guided her to sit on the log.
"Turn," he requested firmly but carefully, motioning for her to put her back to him.
"What? Wh-why?" Rogue balked and turned toward him instead, almost standing up out of sheer panic.
Remy chuckled and put his hands on her shoulders, maneuvering her to face away from him. Rogue slowly let herself be turned and swung her other leg up over the log to mirror his. It was a little awkward with her dress, but the coat provided a decent barrier.
"Well, Remy was thinking dat since you were givin' him such a nice massage, he should return the favor."
Although he couldn't see it, Rogue's face paled and blushed simultaneously, and she tried to stand again. "Oh Ah don't think that's…"
"Hush girl," Remy chided, placing both his hands on her shoulders to pull her back down. "Ain't gonna hurt ya, and I promise t' stay above de dress. If'n ya dont enjoy it after the first 30 seconds, I'll stop, d'accord? "
Rogue swallowed nervously, but nodded as the Cajun gently brushed her hair to one side of her neck.
Using just his thumbs, Remy began rubbing small circles into the base of her skull, only pausing to carefully tilt her head forward.
"Take a deep breath and try t' relax, chere," he coached as he continued to work on her neck.
Gambit's proximity - not to mention his hands on her bare skin - was a contributing factor to her tension, but Rogue took a deep breath nonetheless and tried to focus on letting herself relax.
She knew massages were supposed to be enjoyable - not that she'd ever had personal experience with it. Her poison skin was a pretty big deterrent for people wanting to willingly touch her.
"Reckon you never even got a neck rub before, eh?"
"Gee, ah wonder why?" Rogue snapped, turning red for an altogether different reason. "Pretty sure we established that no one's gonna touch the girl who can knock 'em out cold."
Remy changed positions slightly, using his entire hand to rub from the side of her throat to the back of her neck.
"Just cowardly's all." Remy retorted, smiling when the girl made a little "oh" of enjoyment as he hit a particular spot on the side of her neck.
He silently tilted her head to the side again to expose the long muscle.
"Dis might pinch for just a second. You got knots on top of knots, petite. Gotta put pressure on d' nerve to get it to release some. It's uncomfortable for a spell, but you should feel it when the tension lets out.
Remy used his thumb to feel along the muscle before finding the perfect spot and pressing down hard on it.
"Ah," Rogue hissed slightly but stayed still. Pain was a welcome distraction right now, and it wasn't as if it was really pain so much as discomfort.
"Just remember to breathe," the Cajun coached as he continued to put pressure on the knot while digging circles into it.
A moment later he smiled as the girl's shoulders sagged and he felt the muscle loosen significantly.
"Oh wow! That's some trick.' Rogue exclaimed as she rolled her neck around and sighed contentedly. "Ah actually felt that - like it deflated or somethin'."
"Didn't even know how tight those muscles were, did y'?' He asked, smirking. "Now, you tell Remy you hated dat and we'll just get moving again. But if you LIKED it…"
"Don't reckon you spent enough time for me to LIKE it," Rogue sassed, a teasing lilt back in her voice. 'But ah certainly didn't hate it."
"Remy can work with dat." He smiled again, amused with her roundabout way of asking him to continue.
He mirrored his previous movements on the other side of her neck, first rubbing up and down the long muscles and tendons, then finding the worst of the knots and pressing into it almost roughly. Again she tensed and held back a hiss of discomfort before she breathed through the unpleasant sensation and the muscle slowly released.
Once her muscles were a little less taut, Remy continued to rub circles into the back and sides of her neck before slowly moving to her shoulders. He used his knuckles to work out the knots that were accessible above her dress line, focusing primarily on the fleshy part of her back just above the scapulas.
Rogue was barely aware of the tiny moans and groans she was emitting as Remy alternated between almost painful pressure and soft, sensual rubbing. He never complained - never even spoke as he alternated between using his fingertips, his knuckles, and the heel of his hands to massage her neck, shoulders, and part of her back for what felt like hours.
"Would you like Gambit to do y'r back, too?" he asked, his voice quiet yet husky in her ear. "Over d' dress o' course." To emphasize his point he carefully dragged the heels of his hands down her spine and back up before he reached the swell of her hips.
"MmmHmm." Lost in the exquisite sensations, Rogue simply murmured a positive response, her head nearly drooping onto her chest as she relaxed further under his touch.
With a knowing smile, Remy let his hands wander and he began tracing circles over her spine much as she had done with him. When he finally made his way back to her shoulders, he spent a few more minutes there, rubbing out the tension and knots again before caressing his way down her arms. Trying to better access her forearms and hands, Remy scooted closer to Rogue, encouraging her to lean against his chest while he slowly kneaded the flesh on her arms. Her head lolled against his neck and shoulder as he massaged one finger at a time, focusing a good portion of his attention on the fleshy part between her forefinger and thumb.
By the time he had massaged every conceivably appropriate, accessible inch of her bare skin, Rogue had completely fallen asleep against his shoulder.
Remy knew the poor girl was wearing down quickly and needed as much rest as she could get, so he slung both arms over her waist to keep her from falling off the log and let his head rest against hers.
He hadn't expected to fall asleep like that with her - not in such a vulnerable and precarious position - but Remy's own weariness weighed heavily on him, and within moments he had dozed off with her practically in his lap.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Author's Note:
Here is a brief rundown of my intended upcoming chapters. Some of these have been written, some have not. % means partially/fully written, * means some or all of the chapter will only be in the 'Higher Rating' version.
These chapter titles, orders, etc, MAY change, but the basic ideas will not. (i.e., I may need to spread out to more chapters, or move things around slightly)
Chapter 20: (Day 2, Continued)
-Awkwardness
-Betsy and Logan (S.T.R.I.K.E. vs S.H.I.E.L.D.)
-Dinner at the Mansion
-Sleeping Arrangements
-Nightmares (with dinner and dancing)
Chapter 21: (Day 3)
-"You and I Collide"
-Close calls
%%-Poison Ivy & mud baths
-The Letter
-Betsy & Xavier (Depression)
-Changing Weather
-Jean (? May cut this out)
-Bad Berries
-Wanda, Blob, Toad
-Bad Weather
Chapter 22: (Day 3)
-Lance and Kitty
-Bad Dreams
-Kurt & Mystique
%-Hot Springs
-Funeral
-Bear
-Mad Dash at Midnight
Chapter 23: (Day 4)
-Rock & A High Place
-Mysterious Mail
-A Kiss for Luck
-Look Who's Awake
-Salvation or Trap
-Scott vs Lance
%-A Tight Spot
-Playing Doctor
-Disappearing Act
-Snuggling Down
%-The New Jean Grey *
Chapter 24:
%-Kodak Moments **
%-One Night Only **
Chapter 25: Day 5
%-The Morning After
-Trust Issues
-Disaster!
-The Unthinkable
-Rescue Mission
%-A Wing and A Prayer
Chapter 26: Day 5 (Continued)
%%-Final Desperation
%%-The Bride of Apocalypse**
%-A Thief When all Else Fails
Chapter 27: Day 5
%%-Confrontation