I wrote this two nights ago after I had asked members of the Pryo/Rogue community on Livejournal for story ideas. I was bored and I needed to do something. Then, someone gave me this prompt: "John has a secret. Something he watches on television. (Something I leave up to you, but something very surprising please :D ) And Rogue stumbles across him watching it and he expects her to tease him about it." She also gave me a line: "Now why am Ah not surprised?" Well, of course I took the idea and ran with it, resulting in this lovely little one-shot. I don't write accents at all, so I couldn't pull off Rogue's southern drawl, so y'all are just gonna have to imagine it that way. Comments are love, but leave the flames for a colder day. Also, no beta for this beauty, so please excuse the spelling/grammar errors. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm a college student. I can't afford to own anything.


John crept silently down the dark halls of the school, his feet remembering the correct passage through the maze they created, though his mind couldn't recall. Nearly a year earlier John snapped his lighter shut and left the cold jet, a decision he regretted only when he saw Magneto leave Mystique behind in her human form. He had spent the three weeks following the Alcatraz battle locked in medical wing below, waiting for Storm to trust him and for Wolverine to stop drawing out his claws every time someone mentioned his name. He didn't want to be back here, but the logical part of his brain (a section that developed while with Magneto) told him he had nowhere else to go, and he wasn't about to starve in the cold winter that blew over New York. So, begrudgingly he stayed housed in the mansion, though he complained less when he discovered that the late night rule of watching TV if only at a very low volume level still existed. He hadn't watched TV in a very long time, and he had been dying to watch it, though what he wanted to see was sure to create embarrassment on his part and great amusement on everyone else's, thus the 2 a.m. skulk through the school.

Finally the TV room came into view, empty, much to his relief. Denied his wrist lighters and his old lighter, John flicked on a nearby lamp, blinking at its brightness. He quickly located the remote and flicked the TV on before switching the lamp back off. He wanted to attract as little attention as possible. An advertisement for Girls Gone Wild blared, growing steadily as the TV warmed up, and John fumbled in the low blue light of the TV to reduce the volume. He punched the mute button quickly; his ears strained for any hint of another person, and when he heard nothing, quickly flipped the channels, still on mute. After a moment he found the right channel, turned the volume down to barely audible, and grinned as he flopped on the couch. He hadn't missed a minute.

A half of an hour passed, and John became so engrossed with the images on the screen that he didn't hear the soft footfalls of someone approaching. He didn't register the presence of someone behind him until he heard a soft voice whisper.

"Now, why am I not surprised?"

John jumped, and turned around with a curse. Rogue stood behind him, leaning against the couch slightly, her eyes still glued to the television. Oh God, he thought. She's never going to let me hear the end of this.

"You tell anyone you caught me watching this, and I swear the only thing they'll find is your ashes," he said finally, his voice carrying less bravado than he hoped. Rogue scoffed and walked around the couch.

"Please, if I told anyone they wouldn't believe me," she said as she sat down. John didn't know what to say. His body still burned with the shock of being caught, and his mouth was frozen with the shock that she was watching it with him.

"Have you ever seen this?" He asked, relaxing a bit. Rogue smirked and shot him a sideways glanced.

"Three times, and usually in the middle of the night like this. What do you think I'm doing up so late? I knew it was on."

John could have laughed out loud. Who knew that they still had something in common? He thought for sure that after his departure Rogue would hate him, but she had been nothing but kind to him since his return. In fact, she was the only one to hold a civilized conversation with him. The feelings he once held for her returned, and he found himself waiting eagerly for her visits. They had spent all of yesterday together, his first day out of the medical wing, and he swear that if it had been any other girl, Wolverine and Bobby wouldn't have shot him quite so many dirty looks.

Rogue's soft voice brought him out again, and he looked over to see her singing the words along with the actors and took this moment of distraction to really look at her. She hadn't changed much since he left, perhaps grown even more pretty, he had always thought she was pretty, especially with the streaks of white in her hair. It reminded him, and perhaps everyone that she wasn't as fragile as people (or rather Wolverine and Bobby) thought her to be. When he realized she had taken the Cure, he hated her, thought her a traitor to mutants everywhere, then his logical side kicked in again. Some days he wished he never developed that stupid conscience. If there was anyone who deserved a way out of their gift, it was Rogue. He couldn't imagine knowing memories that weren't his, having thoughts he didn't believe, even hearing voices. He heard her talking about it to Bobby once. That was just before they went to the Drake house. He wondered if she heard him, too. Knew his feelings for her.

"You're going to miss the best part," Rogue said, dragging him from his stare. John looked back at the TV and realized it was nearly over. He shook his head and focused on the unraveling drama when he felt warmth against his body. Rogue had leaned against him, and his body reacted by lifting his arm so she could rest her head on his chest. A feeling swelled within him, something he had never known. He did know he didn't want it to go away.

"Hey Rogue," he asked, wondering why his voice sounded so funny. She looked up at him, and he nearly forgot what he was going to say. "Are you still with Bobby?" Her eyes narrowed in confusion at this question, then shook her head before resting it back on his chest.

"He decided he wanted to be with Kitty," she said to the TV. John said nothing, trying to think of the best way to reply. "Besides," she continued. "I've had my eye on someone else lately." Of course. Wolverine. Now that Jean was dead, he was free. His eyes flicked from the screen to her only to see her looking at him. Deciding it was best not to think, he leaned down and kissed her, something he had only dreamt of. She responded eagerly, and they spent the next minutes exploring each other's mouths heavily. It wasn't until the TV erupted in cheers that the two parted and they glanced up at the screen.

"It's over," he said almost breathlessly. Rogue pushed John's arm off and sat up. She grabbed the remote with a devious glint in her eye.

"That is what satellites are for," she said before hitting the rewind button. John glanced over her and smiled. He knew what that feeling was. Happiness.

A few hours later Storm woke for her usual 5 a.m. run, but was sidetracked from the kitchen when she heard the TV playing. Slowly she walked toward the room and was astonished to see Rogue and John sitting quite comfortably together, oblivious to the fact someone watched them. Her shock grew when she looked on the screen and saw what they were watching: High School Musical.
"How about another viewing?" She heard John asked huskily. Rogue said nothing but Storm grinned as the actors on screen began to move backward rapidly. She left just as unnoticed as had arrived, chuckling inwardly.

Who knew?


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