I settled down

A twisted up frown

Disguised as a smile

"Hey, Rogue!"

She turned to see Kitty walking up to her. Rogue was sitting up on the roof of the mansion, staring out towards the ocean. She mentally frowned at the interruption to her solitude but instead forced a smile onto her face.

"What's up, Kit?"

"Me and some of the other girls were going to catch a movie. You want to come with?"

"Thanks, but not really. There aren't really any movies I wanna see. Have fun."

"Jean's not coming," Kitty told her, giving her a hopeful look.

Rogue chuckled at that. Was her dislike of the red-headed Grey that obvious?

"Would you go already?"

"Okay, okay," Kitty waved to her friend then phased into and through the roof.

Well

You would have never known

I had it all

But not what I wanted

Her life was all right, more than an orphan like her usually got. She had few good friends, a huge foster family. She lived in a mansion. True, it was overrun with teenaged, hormonal, loud mutants but still. Though, none of it was what she wanted. Was it really to much to want control, even a tiny bit, over her powers? To touch someone, skin to skin?

'Cause hope for me

Was a place uncharted

And overgrown

Apparently so. She'd been here four years. In all that time, she'd seen the others getting a handle on their mutation. For her, it was still the same. The professor said she just need to keep trying, to stay hopeful. She could tell he didn't even believe that anymore.

You'd make your way in
I resist you just like this

'Aw, chere,' a Cajun voice whispered in her head, 'Why so serious? Pretty fille like you should be out enjoyin' yourself somewhere. N'awlins is belle dis time a year.'

She scowled in irritation. She concentrated on trying to put the mental walls up like the professor had showed her. The Swamp Rat just went around them.

'Ya can't shut every one out.'

You can't tell me to feel

'Shut up,' she yelled at him. Out of all her psyches, he was the most opinionated. Which made no sense. Back in New Orleans, she'd barely touched him. She didn't know why he thought she needed or wanted him to tell her any of this. She had to tell him this almost daily. He couldn't tell her what to do.

Rogue stood up and walked over to the edge of the roof.

The truth never set me free
So, I did it myself

She stepped off…

Landing easily on her feet on the balcony leading to her and Kitty's shared room. The door was already open so she walked through and past Kitty's to her bed. Kneeling down, she pulled two bags from under her bed. She went over to her wardrobe and starting pulling out clothes, switched the Converses on her feet to a pair of boots and put the shoes and clothes on top of her bag.

The sessions with the professor weren't working. She wasn't going to get control. It was time to accept that. If she was, whether she stayed here or not didn't really matter.

Moving to her dresser, she yanked the top open, grabbing the necessary items. She picked her brush up from the dresser, turned and tossed everything she had in her arms on the bed. She fingered her wooden jewelry box a moment before she opened it. A tattered Queen of Hearts card stared back at her from where it was nestled in the black velvet and string of pearls.

Rogue stared at it for a good two minutes before she released a disgusted huff of air, snatched the thing out, and shoved it in her front pocket. She removed the false bottom of the box and got the six hundred and ninety-two dollars from out of it. She glanced around the room. What else? She looked at the clothes strewn across her bed. Maybe actually folding everything into the bags? Good plan.

You can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out a little more

Rogue scrawled out a note and left it on Kitty's bed. It was short and to the point: 'I'll see you when I see you.' The girl would get the word out to the others. Rogue left her room with her two bags packed with all necessary items and a few not so necessary and went back to the balcony. Taking a good look around for anyone, she tossed her bags to the ground. Climbing over the rail, she lowered herself as far down as she could before she let go and landed in a crouch. Having successfully getting out of the mansion while avoiding detection, Rogue smiled, picked up her bags and rounded the corner. And ran straight into Logan.

The two stared each other down for a moment.

"Nothin' I say is gonna change your mind, is it?" he sounded resigned about it.

She shook her head slowly.

"Not likely."

Then he shocked her by saying, "C'mon. I'll walk you out."

They walked to the fence in silence and stopped at the gate. Rogue pulled a strand of white hair behind her hair.

"You're takin' this a lot better than I thought you would."

"It's your life, Stripes. I can't tell you how to live it. I'm almost tempted to tear outta here with you. Just remember you got a home here."

Rogue then surprised herself and him by hugging the man.

"I'm gonna miss you."

He awkwardly patted her on the back.

"Me too."

"Got you somethin' for the road," he fished in his pocket and tossed her a set of keys. "Stay outta trouble," he briefly put a hand to her shoulder before he turned and walked back to the mansion.

Rogue looked at the set of keys in her hand, confused. Then she noticed that one said 'Harley'. Opening up the gate, she saw parked on the other side a green and black and chrome Harley-Davidson with a matching helmet. A smile spread across her features.

"I do believe I love that man," she muttered.

'Should I be jealous, chere?'

"I'm havin' a moment here. Shut up."

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Open your eyes like I opened mine
It's only the real world.

Rogue had been state-hopping for the past few months and was now at an outdoor café in sunny Florida. Usually sun and being clothed from neck to toe when you had a strong preference for clothes of a darker persuasion didn't mix. But Rogue compromised. She was wearing a red, fishnet jacket over a dark blue sleeveless T-shirt, a light weight khaki shorts, flip-flops, and her gloves. She'd gotten more than a few looks because of the gloves but couldn't care less. She wasn't melting and people weren't dropping into comas when they came too close to her.

There was a girl walking down the street towards her, just another one in the crowd. Except the crowd parted away from her, like she was poison. When she came closer, Rogue could see that light purple skin and fully green eyes though she tried to hide it with a sweat shirt, long pants, gloves and shades.

Rogue was stunned at how beautiful she was.

A life you will never will know

A group of girls who were sitting near her table muttered hateful words.

"Freak."

"Mutie."

"Ew! She's so gross!"

Rogue felt the need to throw them out into moving traffic. If she was arrested, she'd plead insanity and that the voices told her to do it. That wouldn't be a lie because even her mini-Julien was clamoring for blood. Although, he was an overly violent person.

Shifting your weight
To throw off the pain
Well you can ignore it
But, only for so long

You look like I did
You resist me just like this

She reminded her of herself. The girl glanced at Rogue who gave her an approving nod. The girl returned it and continued on her way.

You can't tell me to heal
And, it hurts remembering
How it felt to shut down

Rogue leaned forward resting her head on her hand, reviewing what she's done and where she's been so far. Somehow, her thoughts took her to when her powers first emerged. How lost she felt and the confusion. The fear. After Mystique picked her up, she'd locked herself in her room at the Brotherhood house for a week. Denial gets you nowhere. That's one thing she figured out during her time under Mystique's roof.

Can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out a little more
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More
More, more

Rogue decided she was done with Florida. Maybe she'd go somewhere a little more…cultural. Southern Louisiana, maybe? She started at the thought. Was she out of her mind? Louisiana was taboo. To her way of thinking, it was Gambit's and anything that had to do with that no good, manipulating, thieving Swamp Rat was asking for trouble that just wasn't worth it.

'Ya don't mean dat,' her inner-Remy told her.

'Of course I do. Otherwise, I wouldn't think it.'

'Please, chere. Ya not near as good as lyin' t' yaself as Remy.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

''S okay t' miss moi. I miss tu aussi.'

'I don't miss you. That would be stupid. And if I do go to Louisiana, and I probably won't, I ain't goin' to New Orleans. If I do that, I'm probably not gonna see the real you anyway. Not that I want to.'

'Sure ya don't.'

Rogue stood up with an annoyed groan, didn't bother to tip her lousy waiter, and walked to her baby.

'Admit it,' Remy's voice told her as she put her helmet on.

'Admit what?'

'Ya miss moi.'

'I don't. Be quiet.'

She started the bike and just let it sit a moment as she conversed with Remy. He'd caused many near accidents with his incessant chatter.

'Ya do, ya do. Jus' troi petite words, chere. Da's all dey is.

'I miss you. Happy now?'

He didn't say anything.

Rogue rolled her eyes, wondering how he made silence seem smug, then merged into the traffic, on her way to somewhere.

That night, Rogue sat up in her hotel room well into the night. The TV played some Lifetime drama about some woman being stalked by some guy while dating some other guy. Rogue wasn't sure. Kitty had made her watch enough of these to know that the woman was going to end up saving her boyfriend or whatever he was from the crazy man because on Lifetime, apparently all the men are punks except for the crazy ones. But she wasn't really thinking about that.

The truth never set me free

Why was she still thinking about Mystique? She should be over it by now. The woman had lied and used her. So what she adopted her? She was technically, legally her daughter. Rogue knew this. But someone needed to tell Mystique that and beat her with a parenting book, a thick one. Seriously, she made the Rugrats' parents look competent.

The truth never set me free

The woman had deceived, manipulated, used, betrayed and hurt her. Rogue had repaid her by shoving her key to freedom off of a cliff. She'd known that statue wasn't really Mystique; it was just a way to free her. Kurt had still been mad at her though. The way he'd seen it, she might as well as killed her.

Even after all of that, that woman still had too much control over her. She still wasn't free of her.

The truth never set me free

Remy had used her too. So why was she rushing back to Louisiana? It was stupid. He manipulated her into helping him save his father and given her that stupid card as if that made everything okay. It wasn't. He was a terrible person and she should want nothing to do with him. Then why did she still have the stupid card?

She groaned and flopped back on the bed.

She posed a better question: Why am I torturing myself like this?

"You're gonna go to Louisiana because that boy does not control your actions. You can do whatever you want," she spoke into the air.

"Get real, gal. You're an idiot," she admitted. "You actually like him and you're goin' to New Orleans 'cause you're hopin' you might get to see him again."

She rolled to her side and pulled a pillow under head.

"'Course, if you do, you don't have to tell him that."

'No shame in dat, fille.'

"Stop makin' me talk to you."

So, I'll do it myself

It was in the spring this time around that she reached New Orleans. Spring break…in New Orleans. She could have timed it a little better. As it was, the streets were crowded, not as bad as Mardi Gras though; there were no floats.

Rogue weaved her bike through the throngs of idiots walking in the street! Hello! The street is not the sidewalk! They couldn't be drunk. It was twelve in the afternoon. They must be just dumb. The streets were too congested. Since she missed breakfast, she decided to get something to eat and ask the waiters if they knew of any places that might still have some rooms. Cheap rooms. Really, really cheap rooms. Although, some that wouldn't leave her with some kind of disease would be nice.

She found a place that looked decent off the beaten tourist path and like they served a decent bowl of gumbo. The privately owned places always had the best food. She parked Baby, as that's what she decided to name her bike, and went in, her messenger bag/purse slung over her shoulder. A welcome blast of cool air greeted her when she walked in and she sighed in relief.

"Feels good, don't it?" the hostess greeted her. She was an older woman, nearer to forty than thirty, but she carried herself well. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, her clothes were ironed and clean, and she had an easy smile.

"Oh, it sure does," Rogue found herself returning that smile.

"Jus' one, sugah?"

"Yes, ma'am," Rogue replied, her Southern manners kicking in.

"Uh-uh, no," the woman said, "Don't you be 'ma'aming' me. Ain't that old. This way," she beckoned Rogue to follow her to a table for two on the left wall that had window all along. Rogue took the seat that faced the back of the restaurant. The window kept going on her left and extended to the back and around to the right wall.

"There ya go," she handed her a menu, "Tasha will get your order in a minute or two, but would ya like for me to start ya off with somethin' to drink?"

"I'd like the sweet tea and if it's no trouble, could I go ahead and order?"

"No trouble, sugar. I'll go ahead and tell Cookie."

After the hostess left, Rogue looked around the restaurant. It was similar to the jazz club Gambit had taken her to. She frowned slightly. She'd never gotten to eat that jambalaya, what with that Julien fool popping up. He so owed her dinner. Both of them did, actually. Soon after, her waitress came soon after with her tea. Just as she was taking a sip, she heard the hostess say,

"Well, if it ain't Remy Lebeau!"

Then she almost choked on it. Glancing up, she could see his reflection in the glass.

"Bonjour, belle. Ya gonna marry moi t'day?" he smiled down at the woman. An irrational emotion jumped in Rogue's chest and she refused to identify it.

"Now, watch. One o' these days, I'm gonna accept that proposal and you gonna be stuck wit' me. And you gonna have to be de one to tell Micah why I'm leavin' him."

Remy took a step back and raised his voice.

"Micah! 'Ey, Micah, get out here, old man!"

"What?" a tall, burly older man with salt and pepper hair came barreling out the kitchen. "Why ya callin' me, Lebeau?"

"Calm down, Micah. Jus' lettin' ya know dat I'm runnin' off wit ya wife," he winked at the woman.

Micah looked at Remy to his wife. Then back to Remy.

"Take her. You can't bring her back though."

"Micah!" his wife swatted at him playfully while Remy threw his head back and laughed.

Rogue stared at the reflection. She'd never heard him laugh before. It was deep and rich. She liked it.

"Jus' get the boy a seat, Mari. Stop flirtin' wit' the customers."

"Oh, you gonna be sorry when I'm gone, Micah Chiles. Mmhmm. You wait," Mari moved past her husband and started to lead Remy to a table.

Rogue averted her gaze down as they went past her. She restrained herself from groaning at the unfairness of it all. She did not want to see him.

'Yes, you did.'

'Not today!'

"What do you want today, bebe? Your usual?"

Rogue quickly glanced up. Oh, great. He was right there! One table over and facing her was Remy Lebeau. She so did not want to see him.

'But –'

'This soon! I did not want to see you this soon! And who told you to talk?'

"Hey," Rogue flinched when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mari with a concerned look on her face. It would seem that she'd buried her face in her hands at some point during her mental dialogue.

"You all right, sugar?"

"I'm fine. Just a headache."

That wasn't a lie. She felt a slight throbbing at the base of her skill and also, her stomach was a little fluttery, thanks so much, Gambit...wait, that last part didn't come out right.

"Maybe ya just need to eat. I'll go check on your food."

"Thank you," Rogue turned her head to watch Miss Mari walk away then slowly turned back, hoping that Gambit wasn't looking at her.

Of course he was though.

He was even grinning at her. The nerve. They don't see each other for over a year and he thinks he has the right to stare at her. It's not like she'd changed that much. She might have grown a couple inches but since she was sitting down, he couldn't see that. Her was a bit longer and curled slightly because of all the humidity; she wore less makeup because she'd woken up lazy this morning.

"Fancy seein' you here, chere."

"Yeah. Fancy."

He didn't say anything after that, just kept staring at her. With those beautiful eyes. She wanted to get closer to him, to touch him. She tilted her head, realizing that he was doing that empathy thing his psyche had tried to keep from her.

"Stop doing the eye thing or I will hurt you."

"What 'eye thing', chere?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it. I was born dat way."

She chuckled at that. He blinked and she felt the foolish urges subside. Mostly.

'Ya know, I can't make ya feel anythin' ya don't already feel,' psyche Remy pointed out.

'I didn't ask you that.'

"Thank you."

She glanced left out the window and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He wasn't supposed to he here; she wasn't supposed to see him today. She bit her lip, making a split decision.

You can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out

Rogue picked up her tea and her bag, got out of her seat, and moved to sit in the one across from. She set her glass down and situated her bag on the floor before she straightened up and looked at him. Both eyebrows were raised but a smirk was slapped on his lips.

"You owe me dinner," she informed him, poking him in the chest.

"Do I?" he looked amused.

"Yep. But lunch will do," she leaned forward on the table, resting her chin on her palm.

"No reason why we can't have de dinner too, chere."

'Careful what you say, girl,' she told herself.

"I'll think about it."

He grinned at her.

"Your hair s'possed t' curl like dat?"

"If I don't straighten it, yeah. I've gotten a little lazy on my vacation," she pulled a few strands in her hand.

"It's cute," he reached across the table and let her hair curl around his fingers.

He looked different too. For one thing, his hair was longer than before, reaching his shoulders. Although, she'd never seen him without that…head thing on so it could have always been that length. His chest and shoulders were broader, though he was still lean. All in all, he looked good. Now she needed to stop thinking it before she slipped up and said it out loud.

"Well, you work fast," Tasha, her waitress, said as she set her food down in front of her. "Miss Mari, Remy went and found hisself another girl."

"Oh, no, he didn't," Miss Mari came bustling over, making a fuss, and Remy straightened up. "You tryin' to steal my other man, Miss Ma'am?"

"Oh, please, no. Keep him."

"So you're sayin' you're too good for my boy?"

Remy sent her a smug look. Rogue leaned towards Miss Mari.

"I do believe I could do better than this Swamp Rat here," she waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

Miss Mari and Tasha laughed.

"Who better den moi?" Remy asked.

"Oh, Gambit , let me count the men," she smiled sweetly at him.

'You are, like, so flirting with him!'

'Kitty? Haven't heard from her in a while.'

"What's your name, child?" Miss Mari asked.

"Anna."

"Remy," she charged, "You have my blessin'."

"'S what I aspire for in mon life."

"You treat her good or ya answer to me, ya hear?"

"Oui, Madam Mari."

"All right," she glanced between the two. "Enjoy yaselves."

After the two had walked off, Rogue dug into her steaming gumbo. She closed her eyes, the better to taste it all.

"Anna."

Her head immediately snapped up when he said her name. She opened her eyes and looked into red and black eyes. She chewed her food and swallowed before she spoke.

"Yes?"

"Dat's really your name? Ya didn't just make it up?"

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Ya never told me your name."

"Ya didn't ask, did you?"

"Anna," he said it again, like he was tasting it this time. "I like it."

"I'm so glad you approve of my name," she rolled her eyes. She would never tell him how serious her sarcastic remark was.

He tilted his head to the side.

"Ya called me Gambit before."

"I've never known you as anyone else."

"My name is Remy Lebeau. Would you call me Remy, s'il vous plaît?"

"I suppose I can since you asked so nice," she replied, purposely not saying his name

"Say it."

She raised a brow and the spoon to her mouth.

"Please."

She chewed deliberately slow.

"Remy."

He smiled wide at her.

"Dat sounds nice from you."
Their waitress brought Remy his food soon after, and they ate in silence. Not a heavy uncomfortable one, just 'Shh. Not while I'm eating' silence. When they were done, they resumed talking.

"So how long ya in town for, chere?"

"Long as I want. 'Course that depends though."

"On what?"

She felt his knee bump against hers under the table.

"If I can find anyplace to stay, maybe a job."

She bumped him back.

He smiled at her.

"We can take care of both of dose right now. Miss Mari!" he hollered.

"You wait a minute, boy," Miss Mari pointed at him from where she was chatting up another customer. "You ain't gonna be worryin' me."

"What're you plannin', Lebeau?"

"Ya don't trust me, chere?"

"I've been taught better than that," she gave him a pointed look.

"I deserved dat," he conceded. "I'm real sorry 'bout all dat."

She shook her head.

"You're more sorry ya got caught. I already forgave ya though. That's history. Next time, Cajun, ya'd best ask a girl or I swear I will hog-tie ya and leave you on the Assassins porch, hear me?"

"Yes, baby," he smiled cockily at her.

She stared at him. And she was pretty sure she was blushing. Her mouth would have dropped open, but her chin was once again in her hand. She was saved from having to react to it in anyway when Miss Mari came back.

"Yes, my children?"

"Ya still need a waitress and a tenant for dat lil' apartment?"

"Yes. Why ya movin' outta that big, ol' mansion?"

"No, but Anna needs a place t' stay and a job."

Okay, she really needed him to stop saying her name like that.

'Ya mean like dis, Anna?'

'Oh my – Stop that!'

"You're her reference?"

"Oui."

"Then you have a job, Miss Anna. We can work out rent and all that later. Remy, get the key to the apartment from Micah. Ya remember where it is?"

"In de square wit' de green trellis, hein?"

"That's right," Mari glanced over her shoulder when the front door opened. "Excuse me," she hurried off to greet the new customers.

"Well, all righty then," Rogue muttered.

"Problem solved," Remy shrugged.

"Remy, I didn't mean for you to do all that for me."

"I wanted t'. Ya done here?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go get de key den."

"Dat's you, chere?"

"Mmhmm. Remy, I'd like for you to meet Baby, Baby, this is Remy," Rogue patted the bike's handlebar.

She picked up the helmet and swung her leg over the seat.

"So where's this apartment?"

"Mm, be easier if I drive."

"No one drives Baby but me. And Logan, of course."

Remy arched a brow at that.

"What makes Monsieur Claws so special?"

"Baby likes him. He bought Baby. You can ride on the back and just point in the general direction of where to go."

He smirked at her.

"As ya wish," he moved to get on the bike behind her.

"Why don't I trust that?"

He situated himself behind her and securely wrapped his arms low around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"Can't imagine why, Anna," he whispered next to her ear.

She let him hold her for a moment because he had a very firm, comfortable chest before she swallowed hard and leaned forward.

"A lil' bit a space would be nice, Cajun."

He slowly moved back, dragging his hands along her waist and stomach. She sent him a look over her shoulder that clearly said 'Behave'. She slipped on the helmet, put the key in and started the motor.

Can't be too careful anymore
When all that is waiting for you
Won't come any closer
You've got to reach out

The entire twenty minute through 'Crazy Drivers City', Remy wouldn't stop touching her. Yes, he had to hold onto her so he woulnd't fall off, but he didn't have to hold her like that. He didn't have to be that close. She also suspected that he didn't really need to rest his lips on her covered shoulder either. Really, what could he have possibly done that he'd be that tired? And worse, she wasn't supposed to like anyone, leastwise him, being that close to her. Wait...she was supposed to be accepting the truth on things so that didn't really fly now. Whatever.

She parked the bike in front of a quiet street with a row of renovated, two story Victorian houses. They wee the kind that had been split down the middle of the house with a wall and made into seperate apartments. Rogue took one look at it and told Remy,

"There's no way I can afford this on a waitress's salary."

"Don't worry, chere. Ya can work somethin' out wit' Mari and Micah. Wanna see de inside?"

He eased off the back of the bike and Rogue sighed in relief when he finally let go of her waist. She could breathe again. Not that he was holding tight enough to cut off her breath, it was just that...well, you know. You don't? Then you don't need to know.

Remy offered Rogue his hand and helped her off the bike. He led her up the four steps to the porch, unlocked the door, and Rogue couldn't manage to get her hand back through the entire tour. The apartment turned out to be much nicer on the inside, and it was already nice on the outside. The first room was the living room, a little hallway, the next, the dining room, and after that, the kitchen. There was a half bathroom in the little hall, merely a toilet and sink. There was a utilities closet off to the side of the kitchen. The stairs were off to the side in the living room. There were two bedrooms upstairs, and linen clost and one full bathroom. The only pieces of furniture were a scarred wooden table in the dining room with one chair and a dismantled bed frame in the master bedroom.

"Ya like it?" Remy asked when they were back in the living room.

"Yeah, I really do. Needs a little paint here and ther. Few chairs, maybe a picture or two."

"We could put de Mona Lisa right dere," Remy let go of her hand and put his hand on her shoulder pointing to the wall opposite the bay."

"Eh, I'd prefer Starry Night for what I had planned for this room."

"When did you want it?"

"I'm kiddin', Remy."

"Oh, bien sur, moi aussi," he cleared his throat and glanced away from her.

Rogue sent him a skeptical look.

"Remy Lebeau, I better not wake up one day and find a stolen painting in my livin' room."

"So ya gonna take it den?"

"Yeah. Looks like I'll be hangin' around for a while."

"'M glad t' hear it. Perhaps we could celebrate over dinner."

"Oh, and I'm sure you know this great jazz club too."

"Eh, I was thinkin' somethin' homemade."

Rogue raised a brow.

"You're gonna cook for me, Cajun?"

"Only if you say yes."

"Well, we have to go back to Miss Mari so we can get all the papers worked out. Then I need to get a mattress and some sheets for that bed. Oh, and a screwdriver too. Maybe a couple of skillets or pots or somethin'. After all that, then yes, Remy. I'd love to have dinner with you."

"Bon. Shall we get started den, chere?"

"Let me get my bags in here first," she opened the door and went down the porch steps to her bike.

She unhooked the bags from the bike and was about to take them back inside when Remy took them from her and set them just inside the door. While he was locking it up, Rogue slipped onto the back of her bike. Remy walked back over and looked at her quizzically, a slow grin spreading on his face.

"Chere?"

She gave him a view of her profile as she looked down the street towards a couple of kids playing with their dog in the middle of the street.

"Baby decided she likes you."

"Did she now?"

Wow. She could actually hear his smile. It sounded like pleased smugness.

"Mmhmm," she held the key out to him.

He laid his hand over hers, flipped them over, and kissed her gloved hand, looking her in the eye.

"I am honored, Anna."

She cleared her throat.

"Okay."

He abruptly broke eye contact, and climbed on in front of her. He put his shades on and started the motot, revving it a few times.

If ever asked about the incident later, she would claim temporary insanity. Rogue scooted forward and wrapped her arms loosely around Remy's torso.

'Hmm. Feels like washboard abs.'

She could hear psyche-Kitty giggling off in a corner of her mind.

Remy glanced back at her, clearly surprised. She'd just initated major contact. That wasn't normal for her and he knew it. She tilted her head to the side.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Oui, dere is," he gripped her wrists and tugged her forward further and pressed her closer to him than he'd been. "Wouldn't want you fallin' off now." He grinned at her.

She hid a smile against his back.

Rogue wondered to herself how that it was odd. She was the one holding onto him this time, but it was still hard to breathe. Must be the humidity.

'Sure it is.'

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More, more


A/N: Do you realize how hard it is for me to write non-funny things? Very! But scott has a pole up his ass (LOL hahahaha. Did I ever tell you that you have a great name?) wrote a sad fic. A Freaking SAD fic! So I had to try something serious too. Plus, this actually had my interest 'cause every time I listened to that song, I thought of scenarios for it and Romy immediately popped into my mind. It always goes differently than how I plan it in my head. I think it's pretty okay though. It's better than my first one, anyway. I think.

I don't own X Men or the song 'Careful'. That's Paramore's.

This took me all day to write. Why? Because I'm easily side-tracked and this laptop has internet and then Document Manager went all RETARDED on me for no reason.

Did the lyrics make sense with the actions? What did you think overall? Oh my word, that sounds like homework question. *twitch*