This is a prequel to I Make Men Weak at the Knees and was written after Queen of Identify Fraud. It was inspired by a comment in the first chapter of I Make Men Weak at the Knees wherein a brief explanation was given for how Rogue was able to get her powers under control. I thought it might be interesting to explore that further. You do not need to read either of the two previous stories to enjoy this, although you might miss some in-jokes. Maybe. I think I'm too close to tell whether it's better in chronological order or publishing order. Anyway.

Also, I'm planning on removing all accents from this series. I've started work on King of Thieves and realised that there are more "accented" characters than not, thus making writing in accents completely pointless and redundant.

Disclaimer #1: Not associated with Marvel...

Disclaimer #2: I don't condone becoming a career criminal, nor am I involved with the law on either side on any country. I've done as much research as I can, but there are certain things you can't find through google, heh.

Rogue opened the door and all time seemed to stop.

Clothes were strewn across the floor of the room she shared with Kitty. The covers on Kitty's bed were half falling off, no doubt due to the exertions of the two naked bodies tangled up together on top. Kitty's exuberant cry of "Bobby" penetrated Rogue's mind and time sped up again. Rogue clenched her jaw as Bobby's eyes met hers.

"Rogue –" Bobby began.

But Rogue had already turned and shut the door firmly behind her. With a long stride she walked with increasing speed to the garage. She felt like the world was closing in on her. She needed to get out. She had to get out.

Rogue arrived at the garage and grabbed the keys to one of the motorcycles. As soon as the garage door was lifted high enough, she rocketed out of there, slowing down only long enough to get through the school gates. She pushed the motorcycle to its limit, disregarding all sense of speed limits or safety. Her destination: anywhere but here.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she began to laugh from the sheer thrill. The image of Kitty and Bobby was flung to the back of her mind and laid temporarily forgotten.

How long Rogue drove for, she had no idea. At one point, however, she happened to glance at the fuel gauge. In her rush to get out she hadn't thought to check it before she left and fill up, and now she was edging towards empty. She should probably turn around, but the idea of returning to the mansion made her feel sick.

Eventually she had no choice but to pull over. Rogue left the motorcycle by the side of the road and began to walk. She couldn't go back there. She could picture everyone's reactions all so well. Kitty and Bobby with their insincere apologies "we didn't mean for this to happen". Everyone else whispering behind her back and pitying her.

If they hadn't been already.

Just how long had this been going on anyway? Rogue knew her boyfriend and her room mate had gotten a little friendly prior to her getting the 'cure', but she didn't think anything had come of it. Nothing like that anyway. Had it been going on all this time? Did everyone know except her?

Rogue clenched her fists and pressed her lips together as she stalked angrily down the side of the road. It was at that every moment that Rogue heard her phone ring. She pulled it out and Bobby's name appeared on the screen. Her grip tightened and had she been able to, she would have cracked it. Instead she gained a moment of satisfaction by hurling it into a nearby tree and leaving it behind her.

It was rather dark by the time that Rogue made it to the bank machine with every intention of withdrawing every dollar she had. She would not make it easy for the X-men to find her; if they even cared that she left. She put all her money, bar a few small notes, into her purse and tucked that neatly away into the inside pocket of her jacket.

Her next stop was for dinner, as Rogue had abruptly realised just how hungry she was. She walked to and ate in a nearby KFC and as she finished the last of her chicken, contemplated her next stop. She supposed she should find a place to stay for the night, but she wasn't really tired and she didn't want to spend any more money than she had to right now.

Still, for lack of a better option, Rogue left the KFC and started keeping her eyes peeled for a cheap inn. Chances were by the time she found one she probably would be tired. Her walk led her past a bar just as a couple of motorcycles drove away. Another rider was clearly planning on departing himself when he spotted her.

"Hey there sweetheart," he said, making no attempt to disguise his eyes raking across her body.

Rogue ignored him and continued walking by. Evidentially the man didn't like this, for the next words out of his mouth were: "Don't ignore me, bitch." This, of course, only gave Rogue more incentive to ignore him. Determined, the man caught her arm.

"It's not nice to walk away in the middle of the conversation," he admonished her.

"Let go of my arm," Rogue replied coldly

She really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Now why," he asked as he pulled her into him, "would I want to do a thing like that?"

Before he could move his free hand where he really wanted to put it, however, the man found himself on the ground, swearing and clutching his groin where Rogue and neatly kneed him.

"That's why," she replied blandly.

Once again she started to walk away, but the man managed to grab her ankle and tried to pull her down. Rogue hadn't spent all those years training to be taken down so easily, however. She caught herself before she could fall, twisted on the spot and kicked at his face. Her boot met his nose. There was a sickening crack and a cry of "you bitch, you broke my nose!"

"You'll get over it," Rogue replied.

She walked away from him a few paces before finally turning her back. She heard him pick himself up, run towards her and she side-stepped just moment before he could tackle her. She grabbed his back as she staggered forward, whirled him around and rammed him into a brick wall.

"You have picked the worst possible night to get on my nerves," Rogue said, her voice low and dangerous. "You should have just let me go, but didja? Noooo. You had to just force the issue, didntcha? So now I'm asking myself, just how many other women have you pulled this act on, hmm?"

The fight that followed wasn't really much of anything to speak of. Evidentially the man wasn't used to having his own strength and momentum used against him, and in only a couple of minutes he was unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Rogue hesitated for a moment, and then pulled out his wallet. There wasn't much cash in there, but what little he did have Rogue took. Her eyes then fell on his keys. She looked at them, then back at his motorcycle and then back at the keys again. She snatched them up and made her way over to his ride.

"Thanks," she said. "I will accept this as compensation for my trouble."

Rogue turned it on and was rather pleased when she realised the fuel tank was pretty much full. Good. She'd ride this bike until she read empty.

Rogue awoke with the dawn the next morning and wondered why she was sleeping in underbrush just out of plain view of the road. It took her a few minutes before she remembered the events of the day before; walking in on her boyfriend cheating on her with her roommate, taking off with the school's motorcycle and abandoning it at the side of the road, taking all her money and then robbing that jerk who'd obviously intended on having his way with her. Rogue allowed herself a slight smirk at the knowledge that she didn't need her powers to knock someone out. Then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning she had pulled over to sleep, but she could only vaguely remember doing that.

Her eyes fell on the stolen motorcycle and Rogue let out a long, slow breath. She could scarcely believe she had actually done that, and yet the proof stood before her. There had been a few times in between running away from her foster family and joining the X-men when her powers first manifested that she had stolen, usually when hunger and desperation set in. She hadn't actually stolen anything out of spite before though.

Rogue chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it though. She had told him to back off and he didn't. He persisted. He went after her even after she walked away, twice! Clearly he brought the whole thing on himself and quite frankly he should be counting his blessings that she only took his cash and keys after she beat the snot out of him.

A part of her knew she was only trying to justify her actions but the rest of her brushed that part away. This was no time to feel guilty. She had to return to civilisation and find a place to dump the motorcycle. If the theft wasn't reported by now, she was sure it soon would be.

Rogue continued driving until the motorcycle ran out of fuel and abandoned it by the side of the road as planned. She stopped for a bite to eat, but feeling weary and uncomfortable from her trip, she checked into an inn. Rogue slept through the day. When she woke, she found herself on her bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what she was doing with herself. One thing was certain: she was not going to make the mistake of relying on anyone else again. Every time she did that she got stabbed in the back.

She fought back the tears that pricked at her eyes. She was not going to cry over Bobby. She wasn't going to cry over any of them. They weren't worth her tears.

Frustrated with wallowing in self-pity, Rogue got out of bed and checked out of the inn. She may not have had a plan, but she did know she didn't want to stop anywhere right now.

Rogue just started walking as she had the day before, with no real location in mind. Then she hit the highway and stopped. She supposed she could always hitch a ride but her earlier thoughts about not relying on anyone came back to haunt her and she baulked at the idea. At the same time, she wasn't exactly willing to fork over money just so she could take a coach, train or plane, especially as she had no real destination in mind, nor a way to support herself once her money was gone.

She wandered back up the road, deciding that she should at least rest her feet while figuring out her next course of action. She hadn't gone far when her eyes fell on a motorcycle parked by the side of the road. She stood and stared at it for a time, remembering the last bike she had stolen and wondering where the owner was. Rogue shook her head and pushed the thought away. No, she shouldn't have done that. The guy had been a jerk and gotten on her bad side but that was no excuse to steal his ride.

No matter how exciting it had been to get away with it.

With a jerk, Rogue finally convinced herself to walk away. So what if she knew exactly how to hot-wire it? Aside from the fact that stealing was wrong, she had been standing there staring at it for way too long, long enough that with her distinctive hair she's be remembered if anyone saw her and the motorcycle suddenly went missing. No, she was going to forget this stealing business and hitch a ride with someone.

Three hours later found Rogue on the highway riding a stolen motorcycle. Temptation had gotten the better of her when she had seen the line up of motorcycles outside the bar after having had the idea of hot-wiring a motorcycle spin around her mind all that time. She knew it was wrong, but she also knew the owners would be occupied for hours and she couldn't resist the urge to find out if she could get away with it.

It was possible, Rogue decided four days later, that she was getting a little carried away with this stealing thing. She couldn't help herself. It wasn't like she had anything left to lose and it was rather exciting running off with someone else's motorcycle between her legs, knowing that if the owner noticed too soon and the police spotted her with that knowledge, she'd be caught. Of course, the fact that she was usually done with the motorcycle in question as soon as it ran out of fuel was hardly the point. She could get up to six hours of travel out of any bike with a full tank (although most weren't) and that was six hours of potentially being caught time.

Maybe she had spent too much time in the danger room, to be getting off on stealing like this.

By the time Rogue hit California, she had come to the conclusion that this was as far away from New York and Xaviers as she was going to get short of going to another country. Rogue was somewhat hesitant of the idea of putting down roots, but at the same time was sensible enough to know that she couldn't just keep running with no goal. Besides, sooner or later she was going to run out of money.

Thus Rogue began to apply for jobs. Unfortunately, her lack of experience and references did not go in her favour, along with her lack of address. She applied for everything short of giving up her dignity (she was not going to work as a stripper or anything else in the sex industry, end of discussion). Stealing for a living started becoming not only tempting, but looking like her only option.

One of her first attempts at a job was at a mechanic and fell through. The men there, particularly the boss, had some rather sexist attitudes. Rogue might have let the matter slide if it hadn't been for the fact that the boss had suggested that there were some 'other' services she could provide. She was so incensed not only by his suggestion, but also by his slimy hands on her person, that Rogue ended up staking out the mechanics every night until she found out what day the boss did the banking. He didn't even see her coming.

Afterwards, Rogue wondered when this stealing business got so easy.

Rogue's latest application was for a position at a 24-hour diner. As it happened, the diner was badly short-staffed at the time that Rogue put her application in. The manager, Doug, had been on duty at the time and the moment he realised he had an applicant, he put her to work.

"We've got one hour until the lunch rush starts," he informed Rogue as he handed her a spare uniform. "If you can survive that, you have the job."

Rogue changed quickly, put on the 'Hi I'm New' badge and was sent to work cleaning up, wiping down and restocking tables. Kitchen duty at Xaviers proved to be adequate preparation and she quickly got into the swing of things.

Then the lunch rush started.

And all hell broke loose.

Afterwards, Rogue was certain only sheer determination got her through. What kitchen duty hadn't taught her, the danger room had clearly made up for as she weaved her way through customers and staff alike with dirty plates and glasses. When there were no tables to clear, Rogue helped with the dishwashing.

Finally things started to calm down and Doug called Rogue into his office to settle the paperwork. Doug raised his eyebrows when she gave her address as a hotel, and she simply replied that she was looking for a place. She didn't mention that her hotel bill was primarily being covered by robbing men who tried to force unwanted advances on her; the perils of being a woman alone in bad neighbourhoods.

Over the next few weeks, in between shifts at her new job, Rogue managed to locate a new apartment. It was small, and a complete, utter dump, but it was hers and she didn't have to share it with anyone. The downside was that what she was making at the diner was barely enough to cover the rent, let alone any other expenses. She had no furniture either, but at least she knew she could eat at the diner. What was leftover from her first pay cheque went towards a visit to a local thrift shop where she acquired a change of clothes.

Obviously one job wasn't going to be enough, so in her off hours Rogue went looking around for other job openings. After one disappointing day, she found herself outside of a biker bar named "Tony's". Feeling thirsty, Rogue made her way inside and headed over to the bar. She was under age so ordering alcohol was out of the question, but didn't mean she couldn't order a coke.

The bartender eyed her sceptically as she sat down at the bar.

"Could I get a coke, please?" she asked.

Well, he didn't need to check ID for that, so he got her the drink and she handed over the money.

"I don't suppose there are any job openings?" she asked.

"Sorry kid," he replied. "We're not hiring right now."

"Thanks anyway."

He gave her a nod and moved to the next customer. Rogue was part way through her drink when a young man sat down next to her.

"Hey," he said, making no effort to disguise the fact that he was checking her out. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Got one," Rogue replied blandly.

"Right," he said. "I'm Joss."

"That's nice for you."

"And you are?"

"Not interested in company."

"Oh but we haven't even had a chance to get to know each other. I'm sure that –"

"My last boyfriend cheated on me with my roommate," Rogue interrupted coldly. "I'm not interested in either dating or sex right now. If either of those things are on your mind, then you're just wasting your time."

There was silence for a moment.

"Unless there's rum in that coke," Joss said finally, "I think you're going to need something a lot... harder."

"How does my fist in your mouth sound?" Rogue replied dangerously. "Beat it. Now."

Joss looked at her as if he was trying to decide on something, and finally lifted his hands and departed.

Rogue didn't visit Tony's again until the day she moved up from cleaning tables at the diner to serving customers. Her pocket was deeply grateful for the tips, and Rogue decided that the bar was the way she wanted to celebrate her first shift.

That Joss character was hanging around one of the pool tables with his friends when she came in. She ignored him and made her way to the bar to order herself another coke. It was only when she had her first sip that she wondered why she had chosen this place of all places to celebrate. She liked the atmosphere, she supposed. She smiled to herself. Maybe one of these days she'd have a motorcycle of her own and actually feel like she belonged here.

The smiled faded from her lips and she looked down at her drink. Did she really want to belong here? Did she even want to belong anywhere?

"Back again?"

Rogue looked up to see Joss at her side. "You don't take a hint, do you?"

"Guess not," he replied as the bartender slide four bottles of beer over to him. "Thanks Tony. Sure I can't get you that drink?"

"Just leave me alone."

"Hey Joss!" called a voice from the pool tables. "Stop your flirting and get back here with my beer!"

"Your boyfriend's waiting," Rogue said snidely.

Joss' face darkened noticeably. "Bitch."

"Yep," Rogue drawled. "That's the way to a woman's heart; call her names."

She finished her coke in one fell swoop and sauntered past him out the front door. A part of her rather wanted to deck him, but he hadn't actually put his hands anywhere unwanted or tried to restrain her or anything, and she figured starting a fight in a bar wasn't really a good idea.

Rogue wasn't entirely certain why she went back the next night, and the night after, but Joss was certainly persistent. Somehow his friends ended up involved – usually cheering on her scathing rejections. She became known to the group as "Rogue" which she felt was more appropriate here than "Marie", and eventually met most if not all of the members of their motorcycle club. The ones she got to know best were Owen, Gary, Baz, Carlos and their leader, Frank.

It was during this time that Rogue found out about the street racing that most of the bikies in the area took part in on Saturday nights. Rogue was very much intrigued by this and succeeded in getting herself invited along the very next Saturday. This was when Frank found out about her lack of wheels.

"I've just been walking everywhere," she replied with a shrug when she was asked. "I have my licence, I just have no cash."

"Well, there's betting at the races. If you ever end up with some extra cash, never know. Might get lucky."

Rogue found the race scene to be rather thrilling. It was crowded and difficult to make sense of at first, but she soon got the hang of what was happening. It was also at the races that Rogue found that second job she was after; starting races. Rogue resented the skimpy clothes, especially on the cold nights, but all she had to do was 'look sexy' and wave a flag. The money wasn't much either, but it was per race and she also got a better understanding of how the system worked.

Of course, there was the downside of being propositioned by a number of men who seemed to think that skimpy clothes equalled whore. Rogue was quick to disavow them of this idea and take their money for her trouble. Owen caught her at it one night and stared at her.

"Did you just do what I think you did?" he asked.

"Well, if you think you saw me compensating myself for being manhandled without my express permission, then yes, you did," Rogue replied matter-of-factly.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Okay, never get on my bad side."

"Smart ass."

"Damn straight."