Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men

Okay, so here is my story. Please let me know what you think. I welcome positive criticism. Oh . . . and sorry editing is not my strong point. I hope you enjoy

The sun slowly rose to welcome in a cool fall morning on the Institute. Everyone was still asleep since it was six in the morning on a Saturday . . . well, everyone except one. Rogue was wide awake and had been for a while. It seemed that her dreams would not allow for a full night's sleep. She sat on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest in the dark with only the filtering light from the rising sun to illuminate her room. Yes, her room. After having Kitty as roommate for years she finally had a room to herself. Rogue liked to think of it as more intimate than small. It was simple and reflected her now more mature style. She loved her queen-sized bed with her black soft comforter. Her favorite part of her room was the small balcony.

It had been a little over a year since they had defeated Apocalypse. Her senior year had been a breeze in comparison and she had graduated from high school with not only a few small fights started by people who hated mutants to tarnish her record. She was even taking some college classes online in addition to help train the younger kids at the Institute. She planned to become a teacher since the Professor was looking to expand on faculty and she frankly loved her home . . . even if she pretended otherwise sometimes. Little else had changed since their big battle though. Life was calmer and other than an increase in anti-mutant activity it was downright peaceful.

Dragging herself out of bed, Rogue approached her dresser for some clothes. She stripped her black sleeping tank top and blue and black plaid boxers in exchange for a pair of plain black jeans and a long sleeved v-necked cotton shirt. Looking in the mirror she could not help but take a small mental note in the changes. Overall she was leaner in some places while new curves had appeared where they had not been before. Her hair was only a little longer than a year ago and reached barely past her shoulders. It was still her typical brown with white "stripes". She was still fair skinned, but she had toned down the makeup. Less goth and more like a typical eighteen year old; simple reddish lipstick and simple back eyeliner. Sighing, Rogue headed towards her mahogany desk where her black gloves waited. Some things never changed; like her poisonous touch. Before leaving, Rogue completed her morning ritual, which was to open the back music box with red roses on it and played a German lullaby. It had been a birthday present form Kirk for her last birthday. The box only held one item inside: a queen of hearts card. Her fingers graced the smooth plastic like surface of the card before closing the lid.

Rogue was not quite sure why she had kept it. She probably should have thrown it out immediately, but for some reason she just could not bring herself to do it. Just like she could not abandon him from her mind, and it was not because she had absorbed him once. He plagued her in both waking moments and in her dreams. When she woke up with a racing heart and sweaty palms it was because he had sauntered into one of her dreams. They were always the same . . . his lips on hers while his hands explored her naked body. He was always clothed, but she was always naked. Just thinking about it made her body flush with heat and her stomach turn with fear. It was funny how you could feel two opposing things at the same time.

Leaving her room, Rogue walked the dark and silent halls of the Institute heading towards the kitchen. She was actually grateful for the lack of sleep. It would mean that she could eat breakfast in peace without the typical chaos of many mutant kids fighting over food. The tiled kitchen floor was cold against her sock covered feet. Silently, she went through the ritual of making coffee. Once that was well on its way she contemplated what to eat. The idea of being blinded by the refrigerator light was unpleasant, so Rogue opted for pop-tarts. She always kept a box hidden in the back of the cupboard in a large can of wheat germ. No one had ever touched her can of "wheat germ" since she started hiding food in it years ago. When you live with hungry boys a girl has to get creative. After retrieving her beloved raspberry pop-tart, Rogue sat down at the kitchen table and soaked in the silence.

"Morning stripes," Logan said while pushing open the kitchen door open. Rogue smiled at him not at all surprised by his presence. Logan seemed to never sleep.

"Mornin" she said back. She watched as Logan went to his hiding spot in the hanging light fixture to pull out a bottle of bourbon . . . his version of coffee. Logan had never bothered to hide his secret from her, since he knew she was not dumb enough to take any. She was quite certain she was the only one who knew of the hidden bourbon . . . well the Professor probably knew too. Taking a coffee mug from the cabinet Logan poured himself a healthy dose of liquor before returning the bottle to its resting place. "You coming on the trip today kid?" he suddenly asked after a sip from his cup.

"Ah am . . . help you keep an eye on the newbies," she responded while rising to retrieve a cup of finished coffee. She wondered if the day would come when Logan would stop referring her to a kid. Probably never, Rogue mused as she took a sip of her black coffee. That's how she liked it . . . black with a few spoons of sugar.

"You okay kid?" Logan asked suddenly concerned.

"Ah'm fine. Don't worry bout meh," she lied and took a bite of her pop-tart. From the long huff that he made, Rogue doubted Logan believed her. However, apparently Logan decided not to push it. She silently prayed the day would run smoothly and hopefully void of accidental use of power in public. She, Logan, and Storm were talking a bunch of the new kids to some science museum. The professor had asked her to tag along as an extra hand to make sure nothing happened.

Remy LeBeau was not the kind of man to pine for a woman. He was actually quite the opposite. He was the kind who could barely remember the name of the leggy girl he was with. However, somehow the rules had changed. It all started the first time his eyes laid their sights on her emerald green ones. From that moment on he was hooked. He tried to deny it and pretend it was not her he thought about while kissing some nameless girl in a bar. Remy had watched her with a sort of obsessive fascination. He had seen her pain and had known her desire to escape. Then he had . . . well she called it kidnap, but he preferred to think of it as convincing her to take a break from her life. His motivation had not been exactly pure, but in the end she had sort of forgiven him enough to help him free his father and not let the wolf man skewer him alive. He had not expected to enjoy her company during their trip to New Orleans. He could not even explain why he had given her the card.

After their departure, he had tried to put her out of his mind. Remy had almost half-convinced himself that she meant nothing to him. That was until he found out her and the other X-men had tangled with Apocalypse. He had been at a dark and sleazy bar when he saw it on the news. He had recognized a few of her friends as they flashed on across the screen. His heart had twisted in his chest and he prayed for her safety. He hoped she was not in that battle, but he knew it was in vain. When the fight was over Remy did the one thing he never thought he would do . . . he snuck onto the Institute grounds and not for an attack or to steal something. No, he was there to look for her under the cover of night. It did not take him long to figure out what room window was hers . . . well hers and that skinny brunette. He had felt overwhelmingly relieved to see that she was fine and in one piece.

From there he had taken to the road and moved around from place to play restlessly. Nothing seemed to sooth the overwhelming feeling that he was not where he belonged. He had even tried to drown those feelings in booze and women. It seemed though that he could not so much as kiss a pretty girl without her face coming to mind, and liquor only intensified the images of her. When he was drunk he could hear her sexy southern accent clear as a bell in his mind. So, Remy, being a man of reasonable intelligence got on his motorcycle and headed back to Bayville. He scaled the wrought iron fence and found her new room. Just like before it was easy to find her.

This new room was even better since there was a tree smack dead center to the window. It was far enough to prevent him from being seen, but close enough that he had good view. In that tree was exactly where he was at the moment. Remy had been watching her sleep and was surprised when she bolted up in bed suddenly gasping for air and roughly running her fingers through those beautiful locks. He had almost been alarmed enough to move from his spot and go to her, but after a moment she seemed to be fine. He watched her as she sat in her bed obviously deep in thought. He was not certain how much time passed while he marveled at her exposed shoulders and wondered how smooth her skin would feel against his fingers. Of course that was not allowed. He could never touch her . . . Remy LeBeau, the ladies man had fallen for an untouchable girl . . . the Rogue. If it was only her body that captivated him he could have walked away a long time ago.

He was jostled from thoughts when he saw movement in her room. She stood from her bed and the sight took his breath away. She was more gorgeous then the last time he had seen her and had shed her more adolescent body for the budding body of a woman. She was deliciously curvy in all the right places. Then he stared trance-like as she began lifting her shirt over her head. Remy quickly looked down. He was a gentleman after all, but after a moment curiously got the better of him as he stole a quick look. So, she liked black lacy thongs . . . and he could not help but smile. He was almost sad when she began covering up that lovely skin of hers. She bustled about her room while he watched. The last thing she did before leaving was to open a box on her dresser. Remy waited until he was certain she would not return before jumping down from his branch and quickly scaled her walls and onto her balcony.

Okay. So what did you think. I know there is not a lot of diologue, but there will be next chapter. What is Remy up to? Well you'll find out next chapter. So, please go and review.