They were supposed to be thinking of ways to tell Bobby about their relationship. They were supposed to be talking about what might or might not happen once they told him.

What they weren't supposed to be doing was lie in Rogue's bed and…make out.

"John…wait…" Rogue managed to breath out in between kisses.

His head lifted, both annoyed that he had to stop when things were just getting interesting and relieved that she had more self-control so they could talk with a clear head, rationally, logically…you know, like responsibly. "Um…guess we got a little carried away there, huh?"

She smiled, thinking to herself how cute he looked right then – cheeks flushed, hair mussed, the start of a black and blue blemish at the base of his neck…

Hee… I did that…

"You look rather pleased with yourself." His eyes narrowed suspiciously, then realized why she was smirking like the Cheshire cat. Balancing himself on one hand, he clapped his other hand on the side of his neck. "Did you give me another hickey? Goddamnit, Rogue…"

She only laughed, trying to tug his head down again to finish off her handiwork. "Don't be mad… You look good in black…"

"Stop that…" he protested weakly, as he felt her teeth nibble delicately on his flesh. He would of course never admit it but whenever she did that, his eyes would roll to the back of his head and it would take everything in him not to give her his enthusiastic approval to continue. "Rogue…"

She giggled against his neck, kissing the bruised and battered skin tenderly. Then not so tenderly, she pushed him off of her and sat up abruptly. "Okay, now about Bobby…"

"Gee, Rogue, you sure know how to get me in the mood." He tried to scoot over into a more comfortable position but she stopped him by shoving him away again. He sighed impatiently. "What now?"

"You can't sit there."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because…" She mumbled quietly under her breath the rest of the sentence.


"Because we'll just end up making out again, okay? Now sit over there by the desk and keep your hands to yourself!"

He grinned widely, a brow arched rather lasciviously. Her accent became more pronounced the more flustered she became and, right at that moment, it was a miracle he could even understand what she was saying. Her drawl smothered over every word like molasses.

She groaned softly, trying desperately to keep her attention on something other than watching him lick his lips. "John…"

"What?" he asked, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "I'm just sitting here…keeping my hands to myself."

"I think we need to go someplace else. Someplace where we can talk and not…" She blushed furiously. "…you know…"

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "All right, all right. Where do you want to go?"

"Um…" She racked her brain to think of a safe place they could go. A place where they couldn't even possibly think about…well…that. "The diner?"

The moment she stepped inside, she realized she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

The whole place smelled like cinnamon and sugar and…apples.

She tried pushing him out, blocking the doorway so he couldn't get in. "Let's go someplace else…"

"Rogue, what's the matter with you? I thought you were hungry."

"I…uh…" she stuttered. She could feel her palms getting sweaty…and not in a good way.

"You kids coming in?" Rogue turned to see their usual waitress looking at them curiously. "There's only a few tables free so you might want to grab one while you can."

"Come on… If you're not hungry, I sure the hell am." He grabbed her hand and almost literally dragged her over to an empty table near the big open window.

Before she could protest again, the waitress came over with pen and paper in hand, ready to take their order.

John waited for her to go first. "Rogue? You want anything?"

Under the table, her leg twitched uncontrollably. "Um…I guess I'll have a vanilla milkshake and…um…a cheeseburger…and fries…and uh…could I get a small salad too? With ranch dressing?"

"Sure, hon, anything else?"

Rogue cut John off when he would have given the waitress his order – she didn't want him ordering anything if she could help it. "And I want a big bowl of chili too! And some onion rings! Lots and lots of onion rings!"

The waitress scribbled down Rogue's latest requests into her notepad. "Uh…okay… Anything else?"

John looked at Rogue expectantly. "You sure you don't want the fried chicken dinner too?"

"Um…" She looked at the menu to see what was included with the dinner.

"Jesus, Rogue, I was kidding…"

The waitress smiled, trying to restrain herself from laughing aloud. "What about you, hon? You want some pie? Fresh batch came out of the oven just a few minutes ago."

"NO!" The entire diner became deathly silent at Rogue's outburst, everyone turning to stare at her – even the cook stopped in mid-motion, his spatula hovering over the hot griddle. "I mean…uh…you shouldn't have so much sugar…"

"Okay…grandma." He rolled his eyes at her. His attention turned back to the waitress. "Apple?"

"Yup. I'll get you a big slice." The waitress took the menus back from them and with a wink she was gone before Rogue could even try to dissuade John from ordering her…her…nemesis.

"You sure you're okay?"

Her leg seemed to have a mind of its own, still shaking and rattling the silverware and cups that were sitting on the table. "What?"

"Never mind… You want to talk about how we're going to deal with this Bobby situation?"

"Well…we should probably talk to him together, don't you think?" She was surprised at herself that she got that out and it actually sounded comprehensible. Maybe she'll be able to get through this after all.

Apple pie…she scoffed silently to herself. She was stronger than that. Yeah, she was fucking Rogue, for Christ's sake. She could bring down grown men with just one touch.

Apple pie: you ain't got nothing on me…

John tried to concentrate on driving but couldn't help himself from glancing over to the passenger seat where Rogue was chewing on her fingers like she hadn't scarfed down half the menu at the diner. And she had been so busy eating, they hadn't resolved anything about Bobby at all.

Girls… I'll never understand them…

His eyes went back on the road, carefully maneuvering on the dirt road – a short cut back to the mansion he had discovered recently.

He was startled when Rogue clamped a hand over his on the steering wheel and yanked it violently to the left. "Pull over!"

He hit the brakes, the tires kicking up dirt as the car came to a sudden halt. "Fucking hell! What is wrong with you?"

She doesn't answer him. She just reached over, taking the keys out of the ignition and unbuckling his seat belt at the same time. He wondered briefly when she had learned that move. But all of his thoughts went out the window when she started slipping her gloves off of her hands – still one of the kinkiest things he'd ever seen. She jerked him toward her, her mouth crashing into his.

John felt this should be making him cry out with glee (wasn't it every teenage boy's fantasy to have sex in a car?) but he felt instead uncomfortable and irritated, mostly toward the parking brake that he was digging into his hip.

This had to be the most unsexiest place ever.

"Uh…Rogue… Wait a minute… I just…" He tried shifting his weight to find a more accommodating position but if it wasn't the parking brake, it was the seat belt buckle that was digging into his flesh. He let out an annoyed grunt.

"Come on…" She opened the door, yanking him along with her by the collar. He was forced to crawl awkwardly over the center console to get through the door, bumping his elbow against the steering wheel, smashing his forehead against the door frame and almost losing his balance when he finally exited the car.

And he used to be so smooth with girls…

He managed to right himself, shaking off the pain in his head. She threw herself against him – the momentum making him take a few involuntary steps back. Her arms wound around his shoulders, face buried against his neck. "I want you…right now…" she demanded quietly as only she could.

He held her while taking a quick look at their surroundings. Not exactly the most romantic of places with its overgrown grass and eerie looking trees. Looked more like a scene out of a slasher movie than anything else – he half-expected Jason Voorhees to come stomping out, wielding a bloody knife. "Here? Rogue, the mansion's just a few…"

"NO! Right now!" She pulled away from his embrace and immediately proceeded to the task of unbuttoning his jeans.

"Rogue…just wait… Wait!" He grabbed her by the waist, swinging her around until she was sitting on the hood of the car. He thought he could exhibit some measure of control over her but really…he should have known better.

Didn't he learn anything from that little session during self-defense class?

Her legs wrapped around him like a vise, pulling him toward her. She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered huskily, "Now…"

"Rogue…" He groaned while she was busy biting his earlobe like it was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. "I don't…I don't have a condom…"

His hand slipped under the hem of her skirt, traveling over areas of her skin he was so familiar with. He heard her breath hitch when his fingers skimmed over the lacey material of her underwear. He rubbed gently at first, feeling the wetness grow. His mouth covered hers as he rubbed more vigorously, roughly.

She twisted her mouth away, trying to catch her breath. She was so close…so close…

But she didn't want it this way. With the last ounce of willpower she had left, she pushed his hand away. "No…not like that. I want yooouuu…" She moaned soft and drawn-out when his hand snuck back under her skirt and his fingers, this time, pushed aside the flimsy fabric to feel just how much she really wanted him. "John…"

"What? You want something else?" His tongue licked at her neck as she tilted her head to give greater access. "Maybe I'm licking the wrong place, huh?"

In the back of her mind, she could hear the car suspensions squeaking in protest as she danced up and down to the rhythm of his hand. The sound turning her on even more.

Then, with a flick of his wrist and a slide of his fingers, she came.

She was panting hard, his hand still inside her underwear. He grinned against her flushed cheek. "You good?"

Shaking her head, her thighs tightened around him and his hand. "I…I want…"

"What is it, baby?"

She squirmed, trying to mold herself even closer to him. "John?"


"I want you to fuck me."

"Rogue…I told you… I don't have a con-"

She cut him off. Her fingers dug into his scalp, forcing him to look at her eye to eye. "I wasn't asking, John."

"You know, that was probably the stupidest thing we ever did…" he murmured, one hand under her jacket and half-unbuttoned shirt rubbing against the small of her back, the other hand caressing the curve of her ass. "And I'm not just talking about the whole sex on the car hood thing either…"

Draping herself around him, she purred with pleasure in response. Her chin on his shoulder, she looked down and grinned when she saw her underwear dangling on her left ankle obscenely.

She kissed his cheek and told him, "I'm on the pill. Don't worry…"

Of course, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about the whole situation if she realized that she had missed taking her pills the last two days…

A/N: Whew! It's finished!! Now you know how John and Rogue got together and…um…conceived… I think I got everything in, right? Sex, drugs, rock 'n roll, apple pie… ;)

If you want to know what happens next, read Knocked Up…you know, if you haven't yet. Till next time…