"So am I."

I didn't even last a full day. This Cajun mutant would have his way with her: she processed the certainty as surely as she felt his sun-kissed bangs graze her forehead: his hot breath on her face. She wanted to expel every ounce of pent up breath into him: for him to take it from her in his own chosen way.

She felt her hands loosen from their perch on his coat sleeves, and his curious amusement as they slid up his arms to his broad shoulders. Rogue stopped just short of his neck line, where bare skin had the dangerous potential of touching bare skin. She placed both hands on either side of his face, something she'd seen Jean do to probe a mind. But probing his mind was far from logical thought. With distant consciousness, she felt him tighten his grip on her waist line.

An aching heat omitted from both, creating friction...

It was then that she heard a sharp intake of breath from down the hall. Her head snapped in the general direction, realizing almost immediately that it came from her room before recognizing the wisp of brown hair retreating from sight.

"I have to go." He looked at her as if she'd laid her bare palm on his forehead. It was...adorable.

Rogue ducked under his arm, gaining an immediate power walk to the desired room. Upon final "safety", she shut the door and slummed her weight against the expanse of it. She shut her eyes, counted to 20, Mississippi style. Nothing would rid that Cajun of her hazed thoughts.

Rogue allowed her eyes to reopen, finding Kitty exactly where she lay in her minds eye.

"I'm taking a bath."

Kitty discarded her 17 magazine. "You came in here to tell me that?"

This has got to be the start of the stupidest conversation of my life. "Yeah...so?"

With little haste the younger girl continued her reading as Rogue searched for a towel. After a few moments of silence..."Are you taking it alone?"

She felt her blood run cold. The thought of him completely naked never completely registered itself in her thoughts before now. The southern belle turned on her heel.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing...I'd just, yknow, like, be careful if I were you. Never know what can happen after dark." She winked.

"Uggh." Rogue transferred her attention once more to her dresser. "Oh, and by the way," Kitty continued,"as long as you're out I think it's fair to tell you that Lance'll be by later...we'll be, like, busy." She giggled at her own attempt for a read-between the lines.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Kitty shook her head vigorously. "I think it's best for you to find another place to sleep tonight."

She slid hersefl into the hot water, for a moment remembering what skin could feel like. With it came a flood of memories, attempting to squeeze themselves to the brim. It was much easier to disregard them over the years. At least, until meeting him. Remy LeBeau...He knows this is killing me. She ran her hands through her shoulder length brown hair, over the edge, and behind her head to hang carelessly in the cold, naked air.

Rogue watched her toes sprout from the opposite end, entwining themselves between each other with a moist sqeak. Her feet slid over each other, imagining the feel of his warm, hardened body completely submerging her. It made her dizzy, as if she'd just touched someone. As if she'd absorbed hundreds of people and threw it away effortlessly.

I've been watching you for weeks Rogue. You're such an unhappy girl..

It is nice having someone look out for you...

You'll be fine Chere. You've got people watching you...

I've missed you too...

Chere.

She loved that name on his mouth. It annoyed the crap out of her.

After dressing she made a quick detour to her room, just for confirmation that would have to rough it alone tonight. The muffled voices from the inside obviously belonged to two people.

"Lance! Be careful! You'll push us onto a new continent if you keep this up!"

"Ah Kitty...Are you really this deep? I thought we agreed to no powers..."

Rogue crinkled her nose in revulsion, and immediately dispersed.

What animals. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd miss Kitty as a virgin.

The library seemed to be the only opportune choice for real solitude. This late at night the newest recruits would be running all over the mansion, except for that particular area. Ororo and Forge, who'd just recently moved in, were usually the first to retire, Jean and Scott following suit. Doesn't that figure. At least they're quiet.

She entered from the top floor, looking down on the vast assortment of shelves. It was peace: It was quiet: it was...occupied. How'd I know? Remy sat in the clearing, cross legged in front of a game of solitaire, his chin rested on his two fingers intently. Next to him was a bottle of JB whiskey, uncorked and far from empty. Every move he made lit up for a brief second, before settling on the carpet. She thought to just stand there, watch him before finally resolving to find another place to hide. That's far from what I really want.

Remy

He looked down on his early game, head in his hands. A king of spades and no queen to drag the jack of clubs over to. Gambit sighed. What a night. He moved take another swig, to shuffle the deck for his 9th try when he felt a warm weight press on his back, and a gloved hand place a queen of hearts on the desired spot.

"Didn't think you'd still keep that."

"Why not? I might need it...to 'get me out of a jam'."

"Like the one earlier tonight, no?"

"Remy..."

"Nevermind, Chere."

She took a step back, starting to gain the feeling that this would only get uglier. "Can you...teach me how to play poker?"

"I'll show you my way."

This made her smile, something she couldn't suppress for much longer. She took a seat across from him, and watched his charming way of shuffling.

"Drink?"

Rogue eyed the bottle, reading the label. "Ah heck, why not?" He looked pleased, but not with the expression of a man intent on intoxicating a helpless young girl. Remy LeBeau looked grateful that he had someone to share with in all this lonely mansion.

Rogue caught on quickly to the game, givng the Ragin' Cajun a run for his stolen money. And the bottle was running empty...

Rogue

Within the next hour she started to feel delicious, lightheaded. She began to laugh at everything gestured, expressed: everything was a promise of stupid fun. She threw the cards up in the air, watching them find gravity and graze her face, tumble over her head. It only made her laugh harder when they came down with increasing force.

"You won! You cheatin' swamp rat! I don't believe you!"

"Naw, naw, naw. You won. I was," he burped,"watchin...closely." He stood up on shaken, drunken legs. "This dame," Remy jabbed a finger at her," has won! Won the heart of the infamous Remy LeBeau!" He bellowed to the book shelves, expecting them to retort back. Rogue rose to her feet and straddled his bent knee, swaying on her lack of balance. She eyed him sincerely with a shine in her eyes.

"Remy," she whispered. "Remy."

"What is it, mon belle?" he cooed back, suddenly focusing completely on her.

"I...I want to..." Rogue searched his eyes, his mouth, his eyes again. "But..."

"I'm not afraid, Chere. You know."

The burning weight of her head eliminated all reason. She tilted her head to his mouth, testing the feel of her lips made on his, only lightly. A flicker, the start of a memory conjured itself in her minds eye, and she pulled away. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Are you ok?"

He stared at her, the onyx glare of his eyes impossible to read.

"Remy?"

"I'm allright petite. But I think..." his eyes squinted, seeing the impossible before him. "I think you could be sharing your power with me."

"How?"

"I saw your childhood...I felt your thoughts, and they became mine." he chuckled. "I...I want more. I want to know more."

With the last look she'd give him that night, she took his mouth in his, expelling every sound and thought she could produce into him. They overpowered each other, seeing in their constricting thoughts the image of each others developing life. She saw the man that had called him his own son, and that he never knew his real parents. The image tightened her hold on him, bringing them both to the carpet in an awkward tumble.

In turn, he saw Mystique and Irene attempt to orchestrate her life, her power their only concern. Remy saw the boy she'd put in a coma for 3 weeks: her first meeting with the X-Men: his own face looking down on him from behind a king of hearts. Every thought sent its own pulse, coarsing its way across the span of his skull, weaving into his subconscious, until he had no idea who he was: she was him: he was her.

His shirt slipped over his head, his gloves discarded after a kiss on each finger. Remy held her to him, teething her own loose top over her head. The short brown hair fanned itself all over the carpet floor, and he dipped his head into the warmth it secreted. A groan escaped his throat. He wanted to touch every section of her deathly white skin with his tongue and mouth. And more than anything...

He gripped the edges of her tight black leggings, edging them off with careful, clever precision. Rogue did nothing to stop him, instead raking her fingers through her own hair in a lost ecstasy. Before she could believe it, she felt a solid pressure enter her, rebelling against her tight walls. It came hesitantly at first before plunging into her with careful force.

Tonight he wasn't the notorious thief from New Orleans, the Cajun mutant: he was the orphan bearing the possibility of a different life. She gave every definition of herself to it, feeling him take it generously. Rogue felt her body edge closer, the undeniable rise and fall of a desperate force at work.

His groans...

Her harsh intake of breath.

Faster, harder, until a spreading explosion leaving spent muscles and delicious fatigue. She edged closer to him, not a care in the world to separate herself from him.

I will explain why our Cajun isn't foaming at the mouth about now, okee? Cheers guys. :)