Dear Readers,

Wow. It's been a long while. Ok. I apologize, really, I do. My computer didn't have any virus protection for about three weeks, so I couldn't really do anything online. Then the protection we bought kind screwed our computer up because of system issues they're having, yet neglect to tell anyone about before you download the software. Anyways. I told you all I'd be slow when I started writing agian. :P I'm working 6 days a week til 11 and 12 at night, so I'm pretty tired lately. Not to mention I have an art competition my school is holding, so I'm trying to work very hard on that. I could use some prize money. :)

On a side note, this chapter is for Gator Bait and PennyLane for being awesome. I tried to keep the histories comic and cartoon based. A mix of both. And the fight with Carol I mention is from one of the comics (of course Gambit is in it) of the X-Men Legacy line. Rogue's out in Austrailia and the physical manifestation of the Danger Room (I forget her name) keeps plaguing Rogue with memories and situtations, one of which is a fight with a very rotted Carol Danvers. Kinda Marvel Zombies style. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Your obedient servant,
~R.W.

It felt so strange, saying my name aloud; without fear or uncertainty. The name Rogue had become so natural to me over the years. Logan still used it. In fact, most of the team did, but they also knew I was no longer afraid to be Anna Darkholm. It's who I am, legally speaking. Raven had very little to do with my life anymore, but I still held the name. I always would, and I refused to run from that.

I let a small smile tug at my lips, happy to be at ease with most of my past. The man across from me didn't say a word. He kind of fell into a personal silence. A thoughtful look settled over his face and I left him to himself a while. Lunch passed with a pensive air and little conversation. It reminded me of lunches with the professor.

Eventually, we made our way to the back yard, walking along the overgrown path that winds through the equally overgrown grass and weeds. Behind the reeds, we sat on the homemade dock, our knees almost touching through our rolled-up jeans. We both dangled our feet back and forth in the pond water.

"Tell me about y'self, Cajun," I said softly, testing the severity of our silence.

He grinned a little. "Not much ta tell."

"Oh, come now. A man who cheats his was to fortune can't lead that dull of a life."

He gave me a sideways glance. " 'Cheat my way ta fortune'? You make me sound like a seasoned player, chere. If I was so good, you wouldn't've caught me."

How cute. He was trying to be modest.

"Ah know better'n that," I said, disbelief dripping from my words.

I watched a genuine curiosity cross his handsome face. Curiosity, not surprise. I wiggled my fingers at him as a silent answer to an unasked question. He seemed to try and figure it out on his own, coming to the most common solution: telepathy. It was just the first thing most people thought of when you somehow knew intimate details of their life; never mind that I shook your hand first.

"No," I said before the word left his lips.

"No, what?" he said, amusement laced in his voice.

"No. Not a telepath."

"Then—"

"Nope." I shook my head. I wasn't giving in that easy. "Ah asked first. You tell me, Ah tell you."

He took a minute to think. He glanced at the watch around his left wrist.

"Ah know enough that you don't like ta be at home, much. But if ya don't wanna be here, either…"

"No, no, no. Not you, chere. Definitely not you. It's jus' a long story."

"The cliché thing ta say would be 'Ah got all day.' So. Have at it. Ah got holes that need fillin' in and a story to explain 'em."

He heaved a heavy sigh. Then he agreed.

"I'll give you the short version. F' my own sake more 'n yours. Grew up here on the streets. Man named Jean-Luc went an' adopted me after I tried ta pick his very heavy pockets. Taught 'n trained me well. I was a better t'ief 'n his own son, mon frère (my brother), in no time. One day, I saw this femme, we was runnin' about ten then, an' these homes started givin' 'er a rough time. What do I do? I, Remy Etienne LeBeau, wanted ta be 'er hero. By the time I got to 'er, she be throwin' little knives left 'n right. Came outta nowhere, they did. I realized then that Bella was the daughter of the head of the Assassin Guild, jus' like père was to the t'ieves. I tell you, chere. Love at first sight exists." He paused, his eyes distant, as if missing the memory.

I have to admit, I was disappointed the wife bit was true. But we can never have all that we want in life.

"And?" I urged.

"And? Oh… Needless to say, there were vows, despite our in-laws' mutual hatred of the situation. It was more of a business transaction to them. A way of forced peace between the groups." He didn't sound like he was too happy about it anymore. Once, it was all he lived for.

"No happily ever after?" I asked, digging into business that was not my own.

"Non. Bella's handlin' that part." He gave me a weak smile. One that said he'd come to terms with everything, and regretted nothing.

"Was she simply not who you thought she was?" I should really quit being so nosey.

"Not that," he said with a hint of a real smile. "She was everythin' an' more. We were in love. Truly. It's jus' changed over the last couple 'o years." He paused, then looked me in the eye. "Your turn."

"But you never said a word about that mutation 'o yours."

"You first," he challenged.

"Mine's part of the story."

A little reluctantly, he picked up a small, smooth rock and rolled in around in his fingers. I paid attention to those fingers again, loving how rough his calluses looked. I even tried to imagine how they might feel across my inner forearm, along the backs of my knees.

I was concentrating a little too hard on the imaginary when the little rock began to glow with a white-hot force. I could feel the heat as it was charged from the inside out, the air around it sizzling with pink energy. With a flick of his wrist, he threw it into the pond instead of skipping it. The water exploded upward with the blast, splashing us both quite thoroughly.

"I can charge organic matter, too. If I can touch it, I can usually make it go boom."

I nodded as I whipped the water from my face. We could have used him on the team.

"Well…" I began slowly. "Ah'm from Mississippi. Ah jus' didn't stay there too long. When Ah was about twelve, Ah put mah best friend into a coma; jus' by kissin' 'im. He woke up about a year ago. Ah ran from home, from mah Aunt who raised me, when the town realized they had themselves a mutant. Finally, Ah met Raven and she legally adopted me. Ah ran with her little team of muties and helped take down a woman who Raven convinced us all was a threat to mutant kind: Carol Danvers. Ah held onto that woman for so long, Ah permanently absorbed her mutations. Unfortunately, Ah got her mind, too." I tapped my temple lightly. "She's always up here, now. Eventually, Ah left them. Professor Xavier found me. He ran a school in New York for young mutants. Offered room and board for people who didn't have anywhere else ta go. He had his own team. Only that team was more family than Raven's ever was to me. Xavier died recently and we all went back to where we came from as the new people we are. Eric was kind enough to move the school to Genosha where a lot of the students still attend."

There was a short moment of quiet.

"You're a sponge?" he asked, trying to make light of things. "Not ta make a bad joke, but do you really live in a pineapple under the sea?"

I laughed a little. Being compared to a cartoon was not something I was used to. "Kinda, Ah guess. It's something about mah skin. A friend designed this bracelet for me. Shuts down my powers. We're still working on it, fixing bugs. Right now, Ah can't even use powers Ah've absorbed." I showed off my only piece of jewelry, flipping it over to point out the small switch and the red light that indicated activity.

"Seems a bit overwhelming."

"Sometimes," I said with a pensive smile. "But it's easier now, with this. Headaches for me are the worst of it. Mah head hurts; so does everyone else's. Ah'm stressed, so's everyone else. There are a few reasonable minds in here, and they help keep it all under control." I couldn't help but smile again. I wasn't used to being so comfortable with myself. Nor so open with someone I barely knew.

A short silence settled as we both simply ran out of things to say.

I heard him take a deep breath, preparing for something he was unsure of.

"That night, at the club…" he left the statement to trail off.

"Yeah. Ah tried to get the bouncer ta let me in. He felt me diggin' in his head with borrowed power. Ah jus' forgot ta turn the chip in the bracelet back on." I absently played with the chain 'round my wrist.

"What's it like? What ya take someone in, I mean." His shades slipped down the bridge of his nose, the colors intoxicating as he gave me the full weight of those pulsing eyes. They seem to be something completely on their own, glowing with the steady beat of his curious heart. The look he gave me was like that of a little kid: full of wonder and a kind of appreciation. I wondered, in that moment, how often he'd come across other mutants, especially as a child. I also decided to humor him.

"Remember that little shock you felt?" I asked softly.

He simply nodded.

I closed my eyes, bringing back the memory of Carol, the biggest haunt I had. Her psyche never let me forget that day. Every now and then, she would come out to remind me of what I stole from her. I could still see the fight I had with her, illusory though it was, I fought back, tired of her bullying.

"Imagine that tingle all over. Not jus' across your skin, but everywhere. An almost burning sensation. Feel it behind your eyes, weaving through your ribs, wrapping like a blanket, suffocating your brain. Ya could even taste it on your tongue. It gets harder to breathe, think, and speak. All ya can hear is the blood pumping through your veins, your heart racing. It's the strongest at the point of contact, naturally. All at once, you fade away from yourself, like falling asleep. Of course, that's how it feels ta me. Ah can feel the person jus'… slip away, if Ah hold on long enough."

He looked even harder at me; I could feel it behind my closed eyelids. When I opened my eyes, I saw that beautifully masculine hand hovering just above my cheek. I felt my pulse quicken, my skin flush with heat. He was so close.

He licked his lips carefully. "So if I were ta touch you, right now, nothing would happen?" His voice was breathy, unsure.

I took a second to focus on my breathing, then nodded slowly. How did this happen? In the course of a few short hours, this day had gone from terribly casual, to terribly personal, and now we're terribly close to… something. What that something was, I couldn't figure out. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know, either. Even if that something was a simple palm on my cheek, it would be one of the first touches I wouldn't have to recoil from, that I wouldn't have to fear. I could ­enjoy it.

Then it happened. He slowly pressed his palm to my face and I couldn't fight the sigh that slipped from me. All I could feel was the exquisite warmth radiating from his skin. Not the warmth of his power, but the natural temperature of his body. I let my eyes close again. I memorized the way he formed his hand to the curve of my cheek to fit perfectly. How his touch was so light and hesitant that it drove me crazy, sent tingles all over my body. Good tingles. Tingles that carried nothing but average sensation. If I could do nothing else but keep this man's hand to my face, I would be content.

I wasn't so lost in the moment that I didn't notice those rough fingers sliding along the side of my face to mingle in my hair. It's not that I ignored the knowledge that our faces were slowly moving closer to one another, I just didn't stop it. My eyes remained closed, but it was as if I could see anyways. I could feel his eyes, those entrancing things, scan my face carefully, thoughtfully. I took in the warmth of his breath across my relaxed mouth as his lips parted in his own sense of wonderment. What was going to happen now was a milestone moment in anyone's life. The first kiss wasn't supposed to be this late, but I was finally experiencing things like everyone else. After 11 years of suffering, I was getting to feel something real. Not just witness it.

No matter how much I'd thought about it in the past, nothing could prepare me. He wasn't harsh, he wasn't even pushy. He simply touched his lips to my own. There was nothing insistent in his body language; he was letting me take the lead. Of course, I had no idea what to do. I didn't try to mimic what I saw in others, I just tried to feel. His lips were softer than I imagined and, as I moved my mouth slightly against his, just as pliable. This awareness was almost too much and I almost pulled away.

His hand on the back of my head increased the pressure slightly, as if he felt my body tense, and was telling me to relax. I felt him shift his weight more comfortably on the old wood as his other hand came to the side of my face. With a hand on either side of me, he held me there, politely and without force, willing me to stay. Then his lips separated just a fraction more and he gently pulled on my bottom lip, capturing it.

It was a perfect moment, this. I never wanted to let it go, never wanted to forget. There were simply not enough words to describe every impression coursing through me.

When he pulled away, it was softly and slowly, a little reluctant it seemed. His hands didn't leave my face as I opened my eyes to look at him. He'd taken his sunglasses off, set them down on the dock behind him and twisted his body to face me. He was staring at me, gauging my reaction, I think.

"Je suis désolé," he whispered. "I jus'… couldn't help myself."

I placed my hands over his and brought them down to our laps. With a smile, I said. "Sugah, never apologize for somethin' that wonderful."