Trapped In a Bottle

Chapter One

Enjoy

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men, characters or original plot.

X-_X-_X

The park was lush and green.

The sky was sunny and blue.

And the birds were chirping.

It, the utter irony and unchecked superfluous arrogance of it, depressed Rogue.

She had decided to try and clear her head by walking in the park, which in retrospect the idea to do so should have headed her off to its less than desired ends. So far it wasn't working very well. Her foul mood worsened every time she passed a mother pushing a stroller, or a couple embracing. She knew there was a good chance she would never have that. The professor was nice, saying it would be only a matter of time before she learned control. But she knew it was all in vain.

Most people tended avoided her, even a few at the mansion. They would make excuses to leave the room, or make sure to sit far away from her. The only people she really had were Kitty, Kurt, and Logan.

Even though most times she found Kitty's blabbering annoying she couldn't help the fact that she was her best friend. The whole 'closeness' was part of the reason she was out of the mansion. As Scott had proposed to Jean, that morning, the mansion had been bustling with activity, Kitty was even gossiping about it.

She had long let go to the premature crush she's had on the vigilant team leader, but the fact that it was his happiness with Jean that had piqued her foul mood only served to make it worse. Rogue was a member of the team—she knew that. Rogue was respected—she knew that. She didn't know if she'd ever be loved, or be part of a family home, or be able to simply be a mutant out in the open.

"Shoulda' expected it," she murmured, still reflecting on the morning's engagement. She sat herself in front of Bayville's version of the Trevi Fountain, content to let herself squander time away in a rarely used corner of Bayville Community Park.

With the day's beginning prospects she should have been prepared for the fact that it was going to get worse.

"Why bonjour, chere," called (in her opinion) a loud, annoying and easily recognizable voice.

It was the Cajun Snake Charmer, none other than Remy LeBeau.

"What do ya' want?" bit out Rogue, standing in a hurry, she wasn't going to be caught unawares by an Acolyte. She knew that given the choice any other X-Men would have been attacking the enemy by now, even though at the moment she didn't want to feel like an X-Man.

"Is it too much fo' Gambit to see his chere?" he sat down on the bench, in her previously vacated spot; she could see the annoyingly arrogant Cheshire grin on his face, and felt it inflame her anger even more. She stepped closer to him with the sole intent to tell the man off once and for all.

"Let's get one thing straight!" Rogue said, sending a glare right at the Cajun "Ah am not your 'chere,' and did ya' forget the lil' fact that were enemies? Ah do not take kindly to being forced on your company in public."

Remy could only grin. Her accent was really picking up, which meant she was angry. But oh my was she pretty when she was angry! She was a southern belle, through and through.

"Oh 'course y' Gambit's chere, chere," he exclaimed. Trying to look as though she had just delivered him the biggest shock of his life, his grin only got bigger "Y' know we only be enemies on the battlefield."

"Ya' know we're enemies no matter where we are!" Rogue nearly bellowed, casting a glance around the park and reminding herself that this was not the place to be recognized as a Xavier mutant. Her face blotched red in her anger. "Never mind, Ah don't have time fo' this, just tell me what ya' want and be on your swampy little way!"

"Gambit just wanna' ask yo' on a date, chere," he was full out smiling now. Even if he got hit it would be worth it, getting Rogue this mad.

They may be enemies in name, but Magneto was long gone, and it had been a few months since the Rogue had sought to attack him for any of his advances. With the Acolytes still in town there hadn't been any mutant mischief, a surprise perhaps even to the Acolytes themselves.

An odd look over took Rogue's face for a moment, and Gambit was half concerned that his self proclaimed chere was going to be sick. Her color returned, and her mouth opened, the next moment.

"Sure, Ah'll go with ya,' swamp rat," Her look hardened immediately. It may have been the fact that her loneliness chose that day to pique itself, or it may have been the childish satisfaction she's garner should anyone fine out, but she was truly just as surprised at her omission as he was. She quickly tried to retain some of her usual bluster. "But ya' better not try any funny business! And don't let this go to ya' head this is the only one!"

Meanwhile Remy truly did contemplate swooning like in a romance film, just for a moment, never before in any of his attempts had she agreed of her own volition. The last time they were able to spend an extended amount of time together he had had to kidnap her to make it work!

"Gambit wouldn't dream o' it, chere," his smirk was back in place now, "But where would y' like t' go?"

"Ah don't care!" she couldn't believe she said yes. Well, she thought, she said sure not yes, but what's the difference? "Just be at the Mansion at eight, Logan goes drinking about then, and stay outta' sight!"

Gambit watched her storm out of the park with a smile on his face. She had her head up, forcefully retaining all of her dignity. 'She said yes!' he thought, and then spoke out loud.

"Dis might not be da o'ly date, chere," If there was a man that could show a single minded determination after being rejected by the same woman so many times it was a born and bred New Orleans boy.

X-_X-_X

Rogue was a rebel.

Rogue was a loner.

Rogue was not a fashion consultant.

She truly had done the unthinkable. She had gone through every piece of clothing in her dresser. Why? For an outfit to wear on a date with…that no good Cajun snake charmer!

It irked her to no end that she was frustrated about clothing for a meeting that she had already regretted agreeing to. She wasn't one of those people she criticized, why did she think she even needed to bother with specific dressing?

Then something that, by God, she did not want to happen happened: Katherine Pryde phased through the door to their room, where she wasn't supposed to be for at least another half hour.

"Rogue?" said Kitty. A grin was weaving its way up her face, spreading out to nearly touching her ears.

"Ya'?" Rogue said a feeling of reluctance creeping up on her. She cast a glance back to her scattered clothing, there was nothing like getting caught red handed.

"Are you, like, going on a date?" Kitty finished phasing herself through the door. She walked over to Rogue and took in the black long sleeved shirt and jean pants she was holding up.

"Ya'," Rogue admitted heavily, visibly flinched at Kitty's subsequent squeal.

"Oh, like, who is it?" Kitty was smiling. "No! Wait!" She said before Rogue could answer her. "Is it that Mathew Dinkins that's been, like, hanging around you?"

"No, Kit," said Rogue apprehensively.

"Then, like, who is it! Kitty exclaimed. She balled up her fists and bounced up and down a few times, she was clearly more excited that Rogue was.

"No one ya' need to know!" said Rogue angrily, she was getting defensive. She didn't want to admit to partaking in the 'mundane' teenage ritual of dating, especially with an enemy.

"O.K." said Kitty, not offending in the slightest, she gave a mock sigh like she was giving up and then pierced Rogue with a pitiful stare "I was just, like, curious."

"Ya' do know that curiosity killed the cat, don'cha?" said Rogue. It was a rhetorical question but Kitty still deemed it worthy of an answer.

"Yeah, but the cat, like, got the dog's tongue!" she exclaimed gleefully in response when Rogue only gave her a less than thrilled look. She enjoyed these moments with her roommate, the southern gal was just too tense sometimes!

'That was definitely stupid,' thought Rogue. "So what are ya' here for, asides annoying the hell outa' me?"

"Well I was, like, coming to see what was, like, going on with you," Kitty now turned her 'serious' face on, it really wasn't all that different from her normal expression. "But now that I see what a mess you, like, are (Rogue raised a eyebrow at that) I have decided that I will lend you my fashion expertise for tonight only, for your, like, fabulous date."

Rogue groaned as Kitty grinned, (Damned Cheshire Cat) and put her head in her hands and slowly sat down on her bed. Resigning herself to the fact that she was going to be wearing an A+ Pryde approved outfit tonight.

X-_X-_X

Logan's motorcycle roared out of the driveway exactly thirty six seconds before Rogue exited the mansion and two minutes and five seconds before a second motorcycle pulled up to the mansion's gate.

"Y' ready, chere?" half shouted a clear Cajun voice.

Now on the first glance you wouldn't be able to see who he was talking to. But then looking back on the second glance you would see a certain annoyed (thanks to a certain feline) goth girl hiding in the shadow of the entry gate pillar.

This wasn't any ol' Goth girl, this was Remy's chere!

Tonight she was delightfully dressed in a black tube top with a see through film shirt over it for safety measures, black dress jeans, and elbow length leather gloves. She was embarrassed when Kitty had pronounced it an appropriate outfit, not liking to have to admit that she had so little experience in basic teenage ritual, but had covered it with her usual bluster.

"Took ya' long enough," she half shouted back. Rogue had to say at least one thing offensive; she didn't want the Cajun thinking she was actually delighted to go on this date.

"Jus' wanted a good t'ing to last a lil' longer, chere," Gambit smirked as he handed her the helmet that was hanging off the back of his bike.

Rogue got on, hesitation about the vehicle not an issue. She'd been on motorcycles before so she wasn't worried. It was the Cajun that worried her. She cast a quick glance back up to the mansion, her loneliness from earlier in the day shooting back through her, and then resigned herself to going through what she got herself into.

"We be going to a real special place, chere," Gambit commented before revving the motorcycle and shooting off.

Rogue almost smiled as she felt the breeze in her hair. Almost.

X-_X-_X

They ended up going to a café on the outskirts of Bayville. It was nearly deserted as it was a late hour, but the café was open until eleven.

Rogue had had enough mental anxiety on the short drive. Where to put her hands, worrying about what was going to happen when they got to where they were going, and worrying about what was going to happen when they arrived back to the mansion were only a few of the things on her mind.

Briefly the thought that this was a trap had flashed through her mind, but she had forced it back, willing herself to believe that she wasn't that foolish to fall for that sort of thing.

As they sat and enjoyed their light meal Rogue slowly began to relax. Remy took notice of this and used it to its fullest. He explored all types of topics while she was still in that good of a mood. He hoped to get to know her a little better.

While it was at first very ridiculous to her that he was talking about the things he was (small mundane, every day things) she soon realized that it was small talk. Rogue had never expected to be sitting in front of Gambit, eating, and being subjected to what appeared to be nervous small talk.

She almost laughed, hiding the upturn of her lips behind a forkful of food.

They ended up sitting there until closing time when a very annoyed busboy shooed them out. Gambit had strung out every part of the combination he could, even bringing up tale's of his brief stint in Bayville High, and the trouble he'd gotten himself into there.

Rogue put on the helmet again, and, again got on the back of Remy's motorcycle. This time, as the cool night air whipped by her, she allowed a smile, albeit small, to spread across her face. She was feeling a strange, completed, peace.

X-_X-_X

Rogue got off the back of Remy's bike, twenty minutes later, with a slight feeling of regret. She had partly hoped her time with the Cajun player lasted longer. It was foolish, but it was liberating too.

"Well Remy don' imagine he could walk y' to da door, so he jus' gonna' say goodnight right now," said Gambit. The grin accented the twinkle in his eyes. Or was that twinkle because of the stars? They sure were bright tonight.

That had done it for Rogue, that solitary thought. She was so relaxed she allowed her curiosity to come up to the surface for a moment. She looked up at the stars.

She had to admit they were bright. She glanced back down. Too late the Cajun had caught her.

He glanced up before looking back at her.

"They be belle, cher," Gambit waited for her hesitant nod of agreement before continuing "Jus' like you, la belle femme."

Rogue snorted (very unladylike) at the cheesy line. Though tonight it didn't seem as cheap or cheesy as usual, it almost sounded nice, like a compliment, almost. She didn't forget that he was the joker and she the stern do-gooder.

She turned to go back through the gate. Rogue didn't want to say anything in parting to him, for a few different reasons, one of them being she didn't really want to acknowledge what wall had fallen away that night.

"Bon nuit, chere," he called, forgoing the silence.

"G'night, swamp rat," she called back in a hesitant farewell. With his last words she quickened her pace into the mansion, trying to figure out just what exactly life was doing lately.

X-_X-_X

In the next minute and a half two very important things happened. A certain Cajun thief got back on his bike and drove down the rather winding road, and the second thing occurred, though by far it was much more important. He passed another motorcycle two miles down the road.

X-_X-_X

Rogue was in the mansion's doors only a short while before the second motorcycle that Remy had passed, pulled into the long drive. It grinded against the gravel, it's owner knowing the path well, and it's headlight's illuminated the newly closed front door.

The gate echoed closed in the near distance.

As Logan got off his motorcycle he smelled two very fresh scents, one more potent that the other. It was cologne. It was a male cologne that he'd be damned if he ever forgot. He felt his heckles raise and sought out the scent further, shutting of his bike he closed his eyes and sniffed again.

"Gumbo," growled Logan "And—Stripes…me and Chuck are gonna' have a little talk."

He got off the bike, leaving it where it was, and entered the building, an agitated swagger in his confident stride.

As Logan shut the door a two-toned female was drifting into the wonderful dream world, twenty times happier than when she woke up that morning.

X-_X-_X

I realized that this first chapter was quite a mess, so I took some time to edit it up, some of the scenes are still lacking, but I don't want to change them too much and risk losing some of their future importance.

This story was started due to a songfic I had originally posted that followed this tale's plotline in a much quicker display, I was urged to make it a novel length story, so I started it five years ago. I was a much junior writer, and much lazier about my updates.

It's changed a lot since then, I have new ideas for it now, and it's a certainty it'll be completed before the end of the year. I really like that my readers have been kind enough to stick with me, and I'd really like to thank them.

Please review and drop me a line if you'd like. It means the world to hear from a reviewer, and I always take the time to write back. Thanks for reading.

-AnimeSiren