Playing Both Sides

Summary: Rogue is good at infiltrating enemy bases as a double agent, but maybe this time, she's a little too good. Romy

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-men, nor am I affiliated with Marvel in any way.

Author's notes: I just can't seem to resist the call of the new X-men cartoon even though it was cancelled after only one season, so here's another fic in this verse! I like that Rogue and Gambit never met on the show, it keeps so many possibilities open. For those unfamiliar with the 'toon, I've taken the liberty of keeping things easy to follow and slightly AU.

A few notes: The MRD stands for the Mutant Registration Department—a government run program for capturing and detaining mutants, claiming it's necessary to register and imprison mutants for public safety—although they seem to have mutants that work for them. They are the show's main antagonist. S.H.I.E.L.D. is like a secret ops program that enlists all types of people or mutants with special abilities, running its own secretive agenda, mainly for the good of everyone regardless of the ruthless methods used at times. Sometimes they are protagonists, sometimes they are not. I did not want to bring the mojoverse into this fic, but to keep canon with the series, it is briefly addressed.

As always, I use minimal accents, I truly believe your imaginations are far better than all my misspelled words and apostrophes.

Some things were just all around bad ideas.

This was one of those things.

Rogue had that queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she waited in the small, bare room for her analysis results. If she passed, she would become a full fledged mutant spy for the Mutant Registration Department.

She had no choice.

She had to pass.

She had been equipped with all the right answers to all the right questions. She had trained to meet the requirements. She had even matched the psychological profile. There was no way she would be refused.

She was without a shadow of a doubt, the perfect candidate for the job.

It still didn't stop her nerves from wrecking havoc in her mind as she waited quietly in the empty room. She refused to make any nervous gestures because she was being monitored by the recruiters. She didn't want to show any signs of weakness or self doubt. She had to look like she deserved to be here. Wanted to be here.

Truth be told, this was the last place Rogue ever wanted to be.

The uneasy feeling in her stomach only confirmed that fact to her.

But she was the perfect candidate for the job.

Logan had said so himself. It had been confirmed by Xavier. The entire team agreed that Rogue had an affinity for espionage. With her mutation, she was able to recover information that would help her blend in, meet the standards, adapt her behaviours and gain the trust of those surrounding her. Above all, her ability to acquire other's thoughts would keep her from looking suspicious in places where under other circumstances, she would.

It also didn't hurt that she was a tricky girl to read. Any psychic would scream in frustration trying to get a solid lock on her thoughts. She simply had too many. It was nearly impossible to have her mind read because of all the thoughts, memories and personas of everyone she'd ever absorbed milling around in her head. Emma Frost, a psychic of the highest order, had likened it to trying to hear a whispered conversation across a crowded, noisy restaurant with a live band playing.

Rogue wasn't sure whether she liked the idea of officially being known as the team's double agent. Sure, she had done it when she had briefly joined the Brotherhood, but she hated the idea of basing her life on lies and deceptions in order to acquire information. It was a double edged sword being good at something that followed a very limited code of ethics. It was a dirty and unscrupulous job full of betrayal and backstabbing, and it bothered her just how good she was at it.

It stemmed from a dark side in her psyche. She wasn't even sure it was a trait that had originally belonged to her. For all she knew, it could have been a personality quirk from someone subletting her mind. That was a bit of a problem with her mutation. Everyone in her head, all the time. Most times she could keep everyone organized, at least as organized as someone could shuffling things around in their mind. It wasn't like cleaning a house where she could physically move an object into a closet or a box.

The door behind her opened and a man entered with a stern expression and a clipboard.

"Well?" she asked in a blasé tone. "Do I meet your standards or what?"

The man seemed slightly put out by her manners. It was exactly what she wanted. To care too much would be suspicious. Instead, she acted as though she couldn't have cared less whether or not she got in. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but in the end she knew it would pay off.

Her devil may care attitude and lack of concern for anyone but herself would show through and the MRD wouldn't be able to resist hiring her.

"Well, Miss…uh," the man paused to glance at his clipboard, "Rogue…your results classified you as a perfect match for our program. We'll be sending you to our base of operations where you'll be briefed with the rest of our team."

"And my money?" Rogue asked, callously interrupting the man.

"Already wired to the bank account you provided us with."

"Good," she answered as she stood up, not bothering to shake the man's hand.

"The helicopter is waiting for you."

Rogue gave the man a sharp smile before sauntering out the door. Annoyed, he followed after her, trying to assert his dominance over her. It didn't work very well. Rogue had to smirk when they reached the landing pad of the helicopter and the man was still trying to play catch up to her long strides.

She gave him one last nonchalant look before deliberately spitting out a wad of gum into a nearby trash can. The man scowled angrily as she climbed aboard the helicopter, promptly ignoring him. Spitting her gum out may have looked like a rude gesture, but it was in fact her way of leaving a trail of bread crumbs for her real team.

Obviously being wired with a microphone would be too dangerous. Once Rogue was in undercover, she was on her own, only able to contact Logan and the others sparingly if at all. The gum in the trash was code. Logan would find it and know she had gotten in safely.

The helicopter began to rise into the air and soon she'd be thrust into the dark world of mutant mercenaries and saboteurs working for the MRD. Everything was going exactly according to plan, but her bad feeling never let up.

There was something about this mission that just didn't feel right. She'd never been a particularly superstitious person, but given the feeling in the pit of her stomach right now, she knew this job wouldn't end well.

A bad feeling is a bad feeling, and nothing good ever came to a girl who ignored her gut instincts.

And Rogue was doing just that.