Chapter Two

The next morning Rogue was up bright and early, five minutes before her six-o-clock alarm. She showered, shaved, brushed her teeth, combed her hair and braided it in a solid plait down her back that reached just shy of beneath her shoulder blades. She wore a black sports bra and spandex, some running shoes on her feet. She checked her watch and it was almost six-thirty by the time she had finished getting ready. She then decided to head down to the sparring area where Logan stood waiting for her in some jeans, and no shirt, a katana in his hands. He was working through a combination of various stances and swings of the blade. They were incredibly fluid, and honestly beautiful, the air ringing with each flourish of the blade.

Rogue's own katana sat, the hilt leaning against the wall, waiting for her. It was then she noticed Logan was blindfolded. She didn't make a sound unsheathing her weapon; she stood to face him and bowed. She moved with him, dancing around him and pivoting this way and that, her braid swinging in tandem with her movements. Suddenly Logan swung, and Rogue did her best to dodge, his blade catching her braid, slicing through the plaits like butter, lobbing the severed half several feet across the training room.

Rogue gasped. "Mah hair, Logan! Y'cut mah hair!"

Logan peeked from beneath his blindfold and could see her hair, the bit of it that was tied up and partially plaited beginning to unravel itself.

"Aw, shit Rogue. How many times have I told you to get my attention when I'm blindfolded?"

"Well, ah figured y'could smell me."

"I could," Logan said. "But that isn't the point."

Rogue sighed. "What'll we be workin' on t'day Logan?"

"Not being an idiot for starters."

"Look, ah'm sorry, okay? Ah was movin' through the motions with ya just fahne, wasn't ah?"

"You misstepped."

"By how damn far?" Rogue's arms were akimbo by this point, her blade's point facing to the left.

"Enough for me to cut your hair, that's how far."

"Aw, lighten up Logan, e'it's just mah hair. I've been meanin' t'cut e'it anyhow. E'it wasn't like e'it was my head."

"No, it wasn't, and you're lucky. These blades were made to cut through armor, that means it could cut through your bones, particularly your spinal cord very easily."

"Hrmph."

"We're going to work on your stance, Stripes, because to be honest, it's a bit slacking and is what caused you to misstep in the first place."

"Okay." She said, unfolding her arms and taking her best possible stance.
"Ditch the shoes first."
Rogue nodded, taking off her shoes and socks.
"You need to be able to be rooted, and feel the ground beneath your feet."

Rogue wiggled her toes and rolled back and forth on her heels a bit before taking a deep breath and feeling the floor beneath her, the wood shifting slightly. She thought back to when she had first started training with Logan a few months ago, and how overall shoddy her swordsmanship was.

"Logan?"

"Hm?" He had taken to untying his blindfold and was observing the blade of his sword with careful eyes.

"Ah wanted t'thank you. Y'know, for bein' so damned patient with me. Not t'mention you've been about th' only one who hasn't been treatin' me different since ah can be touched an' all…"

"Is that Cajun treating you badly again? You can be honest with me."

"Well, he has been a bit weird around me lately…since we broke up."

"Hm." Logan sat down on a nearby bench and lit a cigar. "He'll come around."
"Honestly, ah don't care e'if he ever does."

Logan had to raise a brow at this. He knew that Rogue and Gambit had been on and off over the years, but he also knew that they cared about one another, Rogue, more often than not the one who cared far too much…and now it was the other way around all of a sudden?

"What's with the change of heart, Darlin'?" Logan took a long pull off of his cigar.

"Ah'm tired of feelin' like a conquest t'him. Ah want t'be mah own woman for a while. Ah constantly defined mahself by not bein' touched, an' now…Things are different. Ah never thought this day would come, but ah just want to be me, y'know? Who ah know I've always been. A girl who can control her powers an' not be a danger t'others all the time."

"I understand. Probably more than most people do."

"Ah know." Rogue smiled over at Logan, then.

"Straighten up." Logan said, taking another drag off of his cigar.

Rogue straightened up, her shoulder's relaxed and slightly back, her katana held firmly in both hands. She shifted her feet into what she felt was a stance, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"No, no." Logan put his cigar out in his forearm with a wince and got up to assist her.

"You've got it all wrong, darlin'. Remember what I told you about your root. Your upper body can be willowy if you'd like it to be, but your legs and feet are what keep you alive. Well, your whole damn body does, but we're focusing on your legs right now. First of all, your legs are way too close together."

Logan nudged a leg between hers encouraging her to spread out her stance.

"Better."

He nudged her left foot back by hooking her ankle and tugging on it slightly until she complied.

"Good, good, do you feel the difference?"

"Ah do. Ah definitely feel more stable."

"Great, now move through those warm-up slices."

"Ugh, do ah have to? Y'were jus' teachin me really neat twirls the other day…"

"That was before you lost any and all ability to hold a stance."

Rogue sighed, slowly beginning to move through her warm-ups.

After her warm-ups Rogue got fatigued and asked Logan if they could work some more another day.

"Sure." Logan nodded. "I'm not about to overwork ya just yet. I need to get you liking your sword first, then we can go from there."

"Mm. Ah want t'like the thing, ah really do, but e'it's hard sometimes."

"It can be frustrating at first, but you just need to stick with it."

Rogue hoisted her duffle bag up onto a shoulder, offering Logan a smile.

"Ah plain on stickin' with e'it as long as yer' willin' t'teach me."

"That's good to hear."

In a parting gesture Logan extended his hand to Rogue, and she took it, bare handed. Their eyes met as they shook hands and Rogue blushed. After so many years of no skin-to-skin contact, even a handshake could feel intimate. Without thinking, she suddenly pulled Logan into a hug.

"Thank you." She buried her face in his shoulder.

"For bein' so understandin' and not shyin' away from me afraid like everyone else still e'is."

"By everyone you mean Gambit?"

"Sort of. Even the Professor shies away. Jean, too. Ah mean, ah know e'it's mostly reflex, but…for Gambit, as much as he has wanted to touch me all of these years, or at least that's what he claimed t'want…he ain't actin' like e'it. Not even a little."

Logan stroked Rogue's hair momentarily, his fingers stopping short at the end of her cut ponytail, and then he remembered her hair, breaking away from her to fetch it from the floor and hand it to her.

"He'll come around." Logan handed Rogue her hair, then.

"And if he doesn't, that Cajun's even dumber than I thought, cause you're a real catch, kid, and he's blind if he doesn't see it."

Rogue grasped the other half of her braid in one hand, watching Logan as one of his fingers twirled her white forelock, a bit of which had escaped being tied back. She blushed an even deeper red then she had when they had shook hands.

"Thanks Logan, ah'll try t'remember that."

She then turned towards the doorway, only to see Gambit framed within it.

"Dat be some trainin' session, non? Logan lookin' at yo all googly eyed."

Rogue cast Gambit a bit of a disparaging look and heard the spine-tingling SINKT of Logan's claws emerging from at least one hand. She couldn't help but smile wryly at the sound.

"What ah do on mah own time e'is none of y'damn business Remy! You broke up with me remember? An' with th' way you've been actin' ah'm damn glad t'be rid of ya!"

"You heard her, bub." Logan said, making his claws apparent.
"Chere, if we could just take dis somewhere a bit mo'…private, oui?"

"D'you even know how t'take no for a damn answer?"
"Non, I'm afraid I don't."

"Well y'better learn." Rogue shoved past Gambit and out into the hallway, Logan right under his nose.

"Cajun, if you make one wrong move, step a hair out of line…I'll know, I'll be able to smell it, and trust me, you won't have a leg left to stand on."

"Remy be so scared." Gambit pretended to shake.

In an instant Logan retracted his claws and his fist met with Gambit's gut. It sent him reeling backwards, doubled over, and out of the training room.

"I mean it dipshit."

"Oui." Gambit gasped for air. "Remy understand now."

Rogue wasn't even aware of the altercation. She had bee-lined to the kitchen to make herself some tea and breakfast in hopes that Remy might just leave her alone. She wanted some peace…solitude. Was that so much to ask? Couldn't Gambit just be her friend for a while? She set her duffle bag down on the island, her hair atop of it, and moved to get a pan from the dishwasher. Soon she was busy cooking cracking eggs into a buttered pan, causing them to sizzle. She was determined to eat her breakfast alone, so when she heard Remy's footfalls pass the kitchen, she breathed a sigh of relief. It only lasted so long, however, because soon she could hear Remy's footfalls coming back.

Remy came into the kitchen, only just past the door frame.

"Chere, how can Remy help yo if yo won't open up to him? I know yo have your abilities under control now, but dat don' mean Remy loves yo any less den he did be'fo."

"Remy, t'be honest, ah don't want your help. Ah don't need e'it. Why e'is it so hard for you t'realize ah have control of mah abilities now?"

"Chere, Remy don' have a problem wit— "Prove e'it." Rogue said.

"Touch me an' prove e'it."

Slowly, Gambit rose from his stool and walked over to where Rogue stood in front of the stove. He stood close to her, and looked deeply into her eyes, reaching out to caress her face with his hand.

She leaned into his caress, closing her eyes.

"Remy wasn't afraid of touchin' yo." He said.
"Remy jus' wanted t'take things slow wit yo. Didn' know what chere was ready fo'."

Rogue looked up into Gambit's eyes, and she coiled her arms around his neck and kissed him, deeply, softly. It was easier now that she didn't have to focus so much on how long she kissed him. She felt Gambit wrap his arms around her middle, pushing her against him, and she sighed softly into his mouth.

Suddenly, that all too familiar gasp escaped Gambit's lips; without a second's hesitation, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the kitchen floor.