The wind was cool as it rustled through the trees around the small farmhouse. There weren't many areas like this in New York. The expanse of green grass and brown fields stretched out around the tall silos of the farm. Unlike most of New York, it was quiet and peaceful here. It was also very private. Perfect for a man trying to rebuild his life . . . among other things.

Deep in the basement of the farmhouse, Dr. Kroker sat stone-faced as he worked to repair the large robotic arm on the table in front of him. The rest of its three-story body was tucked safely away in the silo. The small farmhouse wasn't anywhere near big enough to house the entire robotic form so Dr. Kroker was forced to remove the pieces he could and fix them individually in his basement. After the beating the robot had taken, it would be a miracle if he could get it up and running again. Dr. Kroker gritted his teeth. This was only a prototype. There had been a time when he would have simply trashed the whole thing a built a new one. Unfortunately, money was tight. Every little bit counted.

Frowning, it occurred to him that sending the robot to the Mutant Registration Center had been more trouble than it was worth. His only goal in the first place had been to give his robot, his Sentinel, a practice run. It was a simple information gathering procedure aimed at retrieving files from the Mutant Registration Center's storage facility. Kroker had hoped to find files on the two mutants he blamed for his ruin. The two mutants who had been caught on tape breaking into his laboratories the night before the disaster that had ended his career. The woman with the white streak in her hair and the man with the metal claws. Kroker gritted his teeth. Rogue and Wolverine.

Even though the files had been destroyed before Kroker could get to them, it was irrelevant. His prototype Sentinel's memory disc was unharmed and he had clear footage of the X-Men who had attacked. Among them had been his two enemies. Now he had their names and he was ready to track them down.

Kroker's mouth stretched into an angry line as his mind replayed his downfall. After his precious laboratory subjects had been released, Pharm-Tech had been exposed for its experiments performed on mutants. By all rights, he knew the government should have overlooked it, most people hated mutants and certainly wouldn't care if they were used in Kroker's research. Unfortunately, the timing had been terrible. With Professor Xavier there, the lead voice in the fight for mutant rights, the press had gone wild. There was no way the government could ignore it. And so they'd had shut him down.

An electric blue light cast an eerie glow on Kroker's face as he worked silently to rebuild his Sentinel. Rogue and Wolverine had cleverly managed to avoid being taped by most of the laboratory's security cameras, but they had obviously not know about the mini-spy cam in the corner of the hall. He knew from that one hidden security camera that the mutants known as Rogue and Wolverine were responsible for everything. It had taken him weeks to discover names to put with their faces, but he still had a few connections to call upon. He grunted as another wire was repaired. They would pay for what they had cost him. They would both pay.

Kroker's thoughts were abruptly cut off as the phone rang, jarring him out of his mental rambling. Putting his tools down, he walked over to the phone and raised the receiver to his ear.

"Yes?"

"I hear you want to talk to LeBeau."

Kroker froze momentarily. The voice on the other end of the line was undeniably Cajun, the accent as thick as gumbo. Finally, he thought.

"Is this Remy LeBeau?" he asked steadily.

There was a moment's silence on the other end.

"I hear you want to talk to LeBeau," it repeated.

Kroker rolled his eyes. He had dealt with people from the other side of the law before, but he never ceased to be irritated at their dramatic insistence on overdone secrecy.

"Yes," he said finally.

"Why?" the voice asked.

"It seems that certain funds, which I feel should be available to me, are in the wrong account," Kroker said in a light voice. "I would switch them myself, but I seem to have locked my computer in someone else's house. This particular account can only be reached from that particular computer."

The other end of the line seemed to consider this for a minute.

"And what would my motivation be for helping you out wit your . . . situation?" the voice asked casually.

"Five hundred thousand dollars," Kroker responded.

The voice snorted.

"Five hundred thousand don' exactly send LeBeau runnin'."

Kroker smiled. He had expected that response.

"Yes, but I suspect the satisfaction will more than make up for the difference."

"Satisfaction?" The voice sounded amused.

"Why yes," Kroker said, feigning surprise. "I would think Mr. LeBeau would be most satisfied to help me in my endeavors against . . . Wolverine."

There was a hiss of breath on the other end of the line. Silently congratulating himself, Kroker continued.

"I seem to recall an incident in London years ago involving a string of murders. One of the victims was a young lady by the name of—"

"Alexandra Davies," whispered the voice.

Kroker's smile widened. He had him now.

"I will be home all day tomorrow," he said. "I trust you will be able to find me."

There was no answer. Just a click and then silence. Dr. Kroker hung up the phone. Whistling he went back to his work to wait.

---

"Ah can't believe you let me sleep so late! Ah told the Professor Ah would be in his office by ten o' clock!"

Wolverine grinned as he watched a frantic Rogue run around his room. She was desperately searching for a clean outfit amongst the piles on his floor and every time she bent down he caught a glimpse of her breasts under the flannel. He propped himself up on his elbow as he relaxed in the bed. This was heaven.

It had been weeks since Rogue had started counseling with Xavier and it seemed like she got a little better every day, smiling a little more and crying a little less. Her nightmares were few and far between and Sabretooth had only taken over once since the first time. And even that hadn't been so bad.

Wolverine furrowed his eyebrows in thought. That had been an interesting night. He could still feel the rush of adrenaline that had roared through his system when he'd woken up to find a feral Rogue straddling his waist, one hand raised up as if to strike him. Her lip had been curled into a snarl and her teeth were bared, accentuating her slightly elongated canines. Fortunately for him, he'd managed to wrestle her down and hold her there until his mental cries for assistance had brought Jean and Cyclops rushing into the room. In a moment of impressive brilliance and clarity, Jean had hit Rogue with a telepathic blow to her mind and suddenly Sabretooth was gone and Rogue was back in control. Jean and Cyclops had left then, Jean with what Wolverine could only describe as a horny look in his direction as she tried to pretend she didn't notice his state of undress. He shook his head. Not too long ago, he may have taken advantage of her obvious desire for him.

Not now though, he thought to himself. Now, for the first time in his life he found himself content with one woman. Content to lie in bed beside Rogue, him in a pair of sweatpants and her in her underwear and one of his flannels. She said it made her sleep better to be surrounded by him. He liked it.

Even though they hadn't had sex yet, Wolverine felt he'd been more intimate with Rogue in the past few weeks than he'd ever been with any other woman in his life. Well, at least the fifteen years he could remember. Still, as he watched her grasping at shirts and pants with the sunlight streaming through the window and lighting her white streaks, he couldn't imagine being any closer to a woman than he was with Rogue.

On a whim, he eased his body up off the bed and slid his jogging pant clad legs over the side. He watched carefully as Rogue lost herself in concentration digging through a particularly large pile of clothes. He slowly rose out of the bed and kneeled on the carpet. Keeping low to the floor, he sneaked up behind the unsuspecting Rogue.

At the last second Rogue's nose twitched and her head shot up as she started to turn, but it was too late. Wolverine tackled her, knocking her down and onto her back. Rogue grunted as she hit the floor and Wolverine caught himself with an arm on either side of her to avoid crushing her. He grinned down at her.

"Gotcha."

Rogue a deep calming breath before leveling a glare at him.

"Ah'm gonna hurt you," she said in a low voice.

Wolverine couldn't stop grinning.

"Sounds fun to me," he teased.

Rogue's eyes narrowed. She could actually *smell* arrogance radiating from him. He was way too cocky for his own good. Reaching up quickly she grasped his broad shoulders and pulled him down to her. Heat raced through her as his half naked body pressed down on hers. Wolverine made a small sound of surprise as she lifted her face to his, then a groan of pleasure as her mouth opened below his and he slid his tongue in to take advantage of the invitation. His adrenaline burned through his system as he plundered her mouth.

Rogue's breathing grew heavy as her hands slid up making fists in his hair as she held his mouth to hers. He was demanding and she responded to his kiss with a fire of her own, matching him in intensity. She arched her body up seductively and moaned, knowing it would drive him crazy. She was right and Wolverine growled deep in his throat as he shifted his weight to one arm, freeing his other to roam roughly up and down her side. As his fingers brushed against the hem of the flannel, Rogue inhaled sharply. Tantalizingly, his hand moved over her flesh without straying under the shirt, a few inches of which lie between his hot caress and the wisp of panties she wore underneath. A part of her wanted to tell him not to stop, to slide his hand underneath her clothing. She wanted to feel his touch everywhere, unrestrained by clothing of any kind.

Still, she had an appointment, and he had to pay for scaring her.

She was just about to break away when, suddenly, Wolverine ground his hips down on hers and Rogue could feel his erection hard against her thigh. She cried out softly into his mouth as an answering fire spread between her legs. Wolverine sensed her reaction and broke the kiss. Raising his head slightly to look down at her, he met her eyes. There was a dark passion reflected deep in his gaze as he seemed to be struggling with his own desire.

"Rogue," he said hoarsely. His hand rose up her side, maddeningly close to her breast. Rogue involuntarily squirmed to the side, trying to force his hand closer to where she desperately wanted it to be. Wolverine noticed and felt himself harden further. "Shit," he swore. "Darlin' you don't know what you're doin' to me."

Rogue didn't answer. Instead she jerked his mouth back down to hers and took one of her hands out of his hair. Reaching down, she put his hand on her breast. Wolverine groaned loudly into the kiss and squeezed her breast in his hand. His thumb rubbed harshly over her nipple through the flannel before moving downwards. Rogue made a sound of disappointment as his hand left her breast, but it soon turned to a moan of pleasure when his hand slid under the flannel.

The feel of his callused hand on her sensitive flesh made her ache with the need to get closer. Her hands slid over the broad expanse of his bare chest, the hair that covered him surprisingly soft under her touch. Then her hands slid over his shoulders to his back. Wolverine broke the kiss, dragging his mouth across her cheek to her neck. Rogue gasped as his mouth sucked at the sensitive skin. Her nails dug into his back and the slight pain seemed to excite Wolverine further. His chest rumbled in a deep growl as he trailed his mouth down Rogue's neck, drawing his tongue over the slight outline of her collarbone. Rogue moved her hands up to clutch his hair again, holding his head to her. She was vaguely aware of breathless words of encouragement streaming from her mouth as his hands slid lower, brushing her stomach. Waves of sensation rolled over her and her eyes drifted closed.

Suddenly, Rogue went still. Her sensitive hearing could make out a crowd of voices heading towards them. It sounded like a group of students.

"Wolverine," she said breathlessly.

Wolverine raised his mouth just enough to speak around her skin.

"Just kids." Then his mouth was back and Rogue had to take a deep breath before she could push him back. Wolverine looked up at her expectantly.

"Logan, they're comin' this way," Rogue insisted, her voice taking on a panicky edge.

Wolverine was about to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that he didn't give a good goddamn whether they were coming this way when his brain registered the change in her tone. Instantly, he stopped his assault on her senses and raised his head to look at her.

Despite all the making out he and Rogue had done in their time here he'd never gone farther than touching her above her clothes. They'd already past that today, and he worried now that there might be a reason Rogue was concerned with the inconsequential arrival of people outside their room. It was possible she and Xavier hadn't reached a point in the therapy where Rogue could enjoy too much physical intimacy without flashing back to what Sabretooth had done to her. He cursed himself for being so insensitive. If there was one thing he didn't want to do, it was make Rogue relapse by pushing her too far, too fast. And here he was doing all of this when she was supposed to be in a therapy session.

Determinedly he calmed his raging hormones. Forcing himself to nod, he pulled away, feeling Rogue's body arch back towards him as he slid his hand out from under her shirt. She wanted him, he was sure of it.

Rogue tried to ignore the voice in her head that cried out as Wolverine took his hand away and sat up. Stifling her disappointment, she took a calming breath and stood up. Needing a little space to regroup, she grabbed an outfit from the floor and went into the bathroom to get dressed.

When she came out Wolverine was lying on the bed waiting for the shower. Rogue swallowed hard at the sight of his incredible half bare body lying against the stark white sheets. For a moment, the feelings he had incited in her only moments ago rushed back to her. A flush covered her face and she immediately focused her eyes on the ground. For the first time since she'd met him, Rogue felt uncomfortable. Part of her wanted to pick up where they'd left off, but part of her was irrationally terrified of that very thought.

Wolverine watched her seriously. He could smell the nervousness on her, mixed with arousal. Although the beast in him wanted to take advantage of her arousal, he forced himself to stay where he was. He'd never cared enough about another's feelings to be afraid of doing the wrong thing, but right now the only coherent thought he could form was that Rogue had to make the first move here. He didn't know what to say or how to react so that she would feel comfortable again. All he could do was wait.

"Ah'm gonna go see the Professor now," Rogue said softly. Hesitantly she met his gaze and smiled shyly. He smiled back and she turned to move towards the door. Hoping that Wolverine didn't notice her legs shaking as she walked, she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

---

Her head was still spinning with conflicting emotions when she opened the door to Xavier's office. She could still feel Wolverine's heated caresses and the thought of what might have happened if those kids hadn't come upstairs made her knees weak. If only she hadn't felt that slight touch of fear that seemed to chill her to the bone, that nervousness that had made her push him away. Where the hell was all of this coming from?

Rogue tried to steady herself as she sat down and smiled apologetically at the Professor. He smiled back as he listened to whoever was on the telephone and signaled that he would only be a minute longer. Rogue nodded that she understood and sat quietly to wait. In her mind, she tried to put her finger on what it was that had frightened her in what should have been the safe circle of Wolverine's arms. What could have caused her to break away from such amazing sensations?

Xavier interrupted her thoughts as he said goodbye and hung up the phone. He turned to Rogue with his usual pleasant smile. Despite the innocence of the smile, Rogue suddenly found herself wondering if she'd been projecting her thoughts loud enough for Xavier to pick up on them. She blushed fiercely at the possibility, and then cursed herself as she realized blushing wasn't helping matters.

Xavier seemed to notice she was flustered and was kind enough to pretend he didn't notice.

"Rogue, I'm glad you could made it. I'm sorry I was on the phone when you arrived, I had some business to discuss with a government friend of mine."

"That's all right, Professor. It's mah fault for being so late anyway," Rogue assured him.

Xavier smiled. "Is there anything specific you would like to discuss today?"

Rogue forced herself not to blush again. "Not really."

"Well," Xavier said thoughtfully. "We've already spent time discussing your powers, and you seem to have dealt very well with Sabretooth's presence in your mind."

He looked at her for confirmation and Rogue nodded. During their last session, she had finally managed to face Sabretooth in her mind, trapping him herself instead of allowing Wolverine to do it. It hadn't been easy, and she and Professor Xavier had talked about it for hours before and after, but she'd done it. It had been one of the greatest senses of accomplishment and empowerment she'd ever experienced. Now Xavier was visibly composing himself and Rogue held her breath. She'd been seeing him for therapy long enough to know that that look meant he was about to raise a sensitive topic.

"Rogue," he began carefully. "It is not unusual for victims of rape to have difficulties when it comes to sexual or romantic relationships." Rogue flinched slightly when he said the word rape. It was such an ugly word. Xavier continued. "Now, I do not presume to know anything about the relationship between you and Wolverine. However, I want you to be aware that it is possible you may experience feelings of discomfort or even fear in sexual situations and it is important that you realize that these feelings are not your fault."

Rogue looked down at the floor. It was as though the Professor was reading her mind. She narrowed her eyes and looked up at him suspiciously.

"It does not take a telepath to see that you and Wolverine have been growing closer, Rogue," the Professor said wryly. "Issues are bound to arise."

Rogue nodded finally. "Ah know, Professor," she sighed. "Professor, Ah want you to know that Ah respect you and Ah'm very grateful for all the help you've given me since Ah've been here. Ah'm just not comfortable talking to you about mah sex life."

Xavier smiled in understanding. "And I want you to know that that is perfectly all right. Still, I think it would behoove you to talk this through with someone, whomever you feel comfortable with. If you would like, I'm sure Storm or Jean would be more than willing."

Rogue shook her head, her eyes staring off into space.

"That's all right, Professor." She took a deep breath. "Ah think Ah know someone."

---

Wolverine roared as he launched himself at Sabretooth, deadly claws slicing through the other man's torso. Sabretooth snarled in pain, but didn't fall. Instead, he brought one of his massive hands down towards Wolverine. Wolverine dodged the blow and pulled his claws out of their sheath in Sabretooth's chest. His eyes were wild with the light of battle, his teeth gritted in determination. There was nothing human in his fury as he doubled his attack. In a blur of motion, Wolverine struck out again and again, finally severing the head off of his hulking opponent. As Sabretooth's head hit the floor, the program ended and the hologram faded away. Wolverine breathed heavily as he stared at the robot that had looked like Sabretooth seconds before. For several minutes, Wolverine watched it, trying the whole time to calm down enough to leave the Danger Room. It was several minutes before he came back to himself, feeling the beast inside himself abate and leaving the rational man in charge again.

As Wolverine left the Danger Room, he shrugged off the nagging thought that it was taking him longer and longer to fight his way back from his feral state. Ever since Rogue had begun therapy with Xavier, Wolverine had been going through some therapy of his own. While Rogue talked to Xavier, Wolverine took out his aggressions in the Danger Room. Sabretooth was his target, sometimes in the background of a bar cage and sometimes against the background of Wolverine's own cabin, where Sabretooth had committed the atrocity that drove Wolverine to punish him for every session.

Each session he seemed to recede further and further into his animalistic nature and Wolverine knew that if he wasn't careful, he might not make it back. Still, he couldn't deny that he felt more alive during those sessions. If he were to be completely honest with himself, it also helped him to maintain an air of manliness, amidst all the lovey dovey emotion he seemed to be feeling towards Rogue lately.

Speaking of whom, she should be out of her session with Xavier by now. Wolverine shook of the last of his bloodlust and made his way up to the room that he and Rogue seemed to share. There, on the stand beside the bed, was a note. Intrigued, Wolverine picked up the note and began to read. Rogue's handwriting flowed across the small sheet of paper and Wolverine raised his eyebrows at what she had to say.

Wolverine,

Sometimes a girl just needs her mama. Back tonight.

Rogue

Wolverine grinned. Yeah, sometimes a girl may need her mother, but who else needed them for extra ammunition?

---

"It's good to see you again, daughter."

Rogue smiled as Mystique nudged some blueprints of government installations out of the way to make room for the tea tray. She poured a cup of tea for Rogue, herself, and Mastermind and passed them around before taking a seat beside Rogue on the couch. Neither she nor Mastermind had said anything about her eyes yet, but Rogue knew they had both noticed and were simply waiting for her to explain.

"I agree, Rogue," Mastermind spoke up. "You know your mother and I miss you terribly."

"Ah know, Ah'm sorry Ah don't call often. It's just," Rogue took a deep breath. "So much has happened since Ah left."

As carefully and quickly as she could, Rogue told her mother and Mastermind about Sabretooth. An hour later, Mystique had run out of expletives and threats and was calming herself down amidst the wreck of broken glass that had once been a tea set. Mastermind remained calm, letting her lover vent her anger and frustration while trying to show a brave front to Rogue.

"Raven, I'm sure Rogue has a reason for being here," Mastermind said quietly.

Mystique was still visibly upset, but she sat back down on the couch. She took a deep calming breath and placed her hand on Rogue's knee.

"I apologize for my outburst, Rogue. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you." Her voice broke suddenly and Rogue reached out to cup Mystique's cheek in her bare palm. Both of the other women froze and stared in amazement at Rogue's skin against Mystique's.

"Rogue," Mastermind said in awe.

Mystique seemed in a trance as she raised her own bare hand and laid it on top of Rogue's.

"How?" she breathed, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Wolverine helped me, Mama," Rogue said, her own eyes tearing up. "He encouraged me to practice."

Mystique blinked the wetness from her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on something else. "I'll be he did," she ground out. Her hand flexed around Rogue's as she struggled to maintain her composure. "That man has had nothing but violating you on his mind since he got here." Seeing that her mother was getting angry again Rogue pulled her hand out of her grasp. She wiped her eyes quickly and was about to speak when Mastermind stepped in.

"Raven, please." She turned to Rogue. "I had a chance to meet Wolverine some years ago in London. I admit at first I had my doubts, but I can say now that I have every confidence in Logan's honorability." In her mind Mastermind could still hear Wolverine's words when he spoke to her in the cage at Pharm-Tech. "You owe me for London."

"Rogue, please," Mystique broke in. "You come to me now, weeks after your ordeal. Obviously, Charles Xavier is helping you to deal with that and Wolverine has helped you to control your powers. I don't understand why you've come to me."

Rogue winced at the pain in Mystique's voice. It was true, she hadn't come to her mother to learn control over her powers, or for help dealing with her rape. She had just allowed Professor Xavier, a man Mystique considered her enemy, to counsel her through it all. She sighed. Sliding to her knees in front of Mystique, Rogue put her head in her lap.

"Mama, Ah never thought Ah'd be able to touch someone. Now all of a sudden, it's possible and Ah'm scared. We never talked about that stuff and now the only experience Ah have . . ."

Mystique made eye contact with Mastermind over Rogue's head, drawing strength from her lover's loving gaze. She brushed Rogue's hair behind her ear and sighed.

"Daughter, I can only imagine how you must feel. You're a grown woman, and I know you've seen the memories of enough people to know the basics of sex." She thought about it for a moment. "Of course, it goes without say that you will use protection. God only knows, Wolverine's been around—" She stopped as Mastermind shook her head slightly. Mystique realized this might not be the time to bring up Wolverine's conquests.

"Rogue," Mastermind joined in. "How far have you and Wolverine gone, physically?"

Rogue flushed slightly. "Not very far. We kiss a lot and he's . . . touched me."

Mastermind smiled reassuringly. It was obvious this was embarrassing and hard for Rogue to talk about.

"All right," Mystique said. "Now, how did you feel the first time he touched you?"

Rogue lifted her head and moved to sit between Mastermind and Mystique.

"Excited. It felt good and it was something Ah'd never done—never thought Ah'd do. But then, all of a sudden Ah felt real scared." She looked down at her lap. "Ah just wanted to run."

"What is it that you were scared of?" probed Mastermind.

Rogue shook her head miserably. "Ah don't know."

"It's all right, Rogue," Mastermind soothed her, brushing her hair back from her ear. "Take your time."

Rogue squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to concentrate. "Ah guess," she said slowly. "Ah was afraid Ah'd have no control. When Sabretooth . . . it all happened so fast. It hurt so bad, Ah had no control." She looked up, meeting Mastermind's kind gaze. "Ah couldn't make him stop. Ah felt like Ah lost mahself."

"Rogue, are you afraid that when you and Wolverine have sex, it will hurt?"

Rogue shrugged shyly.

Mystique smiled reassuringly. "Rogue, intercourse can be painful at first, but with a considerate partner, I assure you, it will just be a slight discomfort."

Rogue shrugged. "What if Ah don't do it right?"

Mystique and Mastermind exchanged glances again.

"Rogue, listen to me," Mystique said firmly, grasping Rogue's chin and forcing her to meet her eyes. "Rogue, you have his memories, and the memories of who knows how many others. You have all the firsthand knowledge you need, not to mention a hell of an advantage over any other woman he may have been with. However, if you don't tell Wolverine what you want, you won't enjoy it so you may as well stay celibate." Mastermind started to interrupt her, but Mystique plunged on. "Don't ever let anyone make you feel inferior, especially not when it comes to sex. Sex is give and take and if Wolverine gives a damn about you, which he obviously does, he'll respect that."

Mastermind and Rogue both looked at Mystique in pleasant surprise. The blue-skinned terrorist gave Rogue a hug and then sat back, satisfied.

"So, is anyone hungry?" she asked pleasantly.

---

Gambit's face was grim as he arrived at the farmhouse. He'd parked his bike a ways back in the woods, preferring not to give Kroker any warning that he was here. In Gambit's line of work you didn't just walk up to the front door. Especially when the person you were coming to see about a job had taken the time and trouble to dig up information on your personal life. Gambit frowned. This one would have to be handled very delicately.

Carefully, he crept across the lawn like a shadow. Calling on his mutant ability, he concentrated on his kinetic senses that allowed him to pick up on any movements around him, even before his other senses were aware of them. Sensing no movement around the main part of the house, Gambit continued to creep around the corner of the house, stopping when he spotted a light coming out of a small basement window. Coming up to crouch down beside the window, Gambit peered through the dirty glass. Inside, he could make out the figure of an older man, working intently on something in front of him. The man was lost in concentration and didn't notice the stealthy figure watching him from the window. Gambit smiled as he silently moved to a higher window. In seconds he was inside, making his way down to the basement. It was almost too easy to sneak up on who he assumed was his employer.

"Gambit hope he didn't keep you waitin'," he said casually.

Kroker jumped like he'd been shocked and spun around. Gambit raised an eyebrow as he noticed the man's arm automatically shoot out to cover what was lying on the table. He relaxed when he saw Gambit.

"Mr. LeBeau, how nice of you to come," he greeted him pleasantly.

"You tell me where dis computer is and what account you want transferred where. Den you tell me what you know about de Wolverine," Gambit said abruptly, cutting straight to the point.

Gambit had slipped on a pair of sunglasses before he entered the basement, but his red on black eyes didn't miss the large robotic arm on the table behind Kroker and Gambit was glad he'd thought to put them on as he recognized the robot from the news. It was the one from the Mutant Registration Center. Gambit wasn't sure what it was doing here, but for now he figured it was best if Kroker didn't know he was a mutant.

Kroker nodded briskly. "Very well. Go to 5288 Silverdale Drive. The computer is on the second floor in the study, third room on the right when you go up the main staircase. The account is number 620919. Transfer all the funds in that account to account number 056521."

Gambit raised an eyebrow at the details Kroker was spouting from memory.

"Seems to dis Cajun dat you know a little more dan you should `bout dis account. How you know so much, and what make you `tink dey not gon notice a whole account bein' transferred?"

"If you must know, my son dated the man's daughter, a blond bimbo named Jeanette. Originally, he was to get the money from me through a fake kidnapping he and Jeanette had set up. Unfortunately, that plan fell through and my son was forced to do some actual work getting me this information," Kroker responded irritatedly.

"Den why don' your son do de work?" Gambit asked in amusement. Rich people were morons.

Kroker rolled his eyes. "Because he is incompetent and he decided to follow his penis to Mexico after some whore."

Gambit chuckled. "Ah. In dat case, Gambit return before morning."

Making his way out of the farmhouse, Gambit was careful to make sure Kroker didn't have him followed back to his bike. As the Prince of Thieves, Gambit knew there was no honor in this business.

It didn't take him long to get to his destination. After that, it was only a short matter of time before Gambit was sitting at the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. As he transferred Kroker's desired assets, Gambit's mind raced in anticipation of the information Kroker had promised him. Finally, he was going to get his revenge. Gambit gritted his teeth as he remembered Alexandra's funeral. She had been an old and dear friend, killed in her prime at her London home. She had been one is a series of killings, all suspected to have been committed by a crazed serial killer. When Gambit had gone to London, every lead had led him to Wolverine. Then suddenly the trail had gone cold. He'd never found Wolverine again.

As Gambit finished his task and made a graceful exit, his adrenaline began to flow. In less than an hour he would have the information he needed to get his revenge.

---

Rogue groaned and rolled over. She was freezing. Groggily, she lifted her head and glared over at Wolverine. Just as she'd expected, he had managed to wrap the covers around his body once again, pulling her own half off of her. Growling, Rogue grabbed the edge of the covers and yanked as hard as she could. Her enhanced strength was sufficient enough to send Wolverine's body spinning off the edge of the bed. Rogue snuggled down into her newly reclaimed comforter, ignoring the sound of Wolverine hitting the floor.

From inside her soft cocoon, Rogue watched as Wolverine's arm swung back up onto the bed. She stared idly at his knuckles, wondering if he would release his claws. A few seconds later, his head popped up and Rogue found herself staring into his murderous gaze. She waited for him to say something, but he was silent as he slowly crawled back onto the bed, never taking his eyes off her. Rogue's heart began to beat a little faster.

"You hogged all the covers, Ah'm not a bit sorry!" she protested indignantly.

Wolverine kept moving, reaching out to take a hold of the edges of the blanket on either side of Rogue and looming over her. Suddenly, he ripped the blanket off of her and threw it to the side. As he stared down at her, Rogue did the only thing she could think of. Grabbing a pillow, she heaved it up and into Wolverine's head.

The pillow hit its target with a muffled thump and the fight was on. Rogue squealed and scurried out from under Wolverine's shadow. Getting to a safer point on the bed she turned in time to see Wolverine lunge at her. Dodging out of the way, Rogue grabbed for another pillow and swung it around towards Wolverine. He blocked her shot and then grabbed the pillow, tugging it hard. Rogue was still holding on tightly and his violent action jerked her into his chest. Immediately his arm swung around her back and she was trapped against his body. Breathing heavy, Rogue felt her body grow warmer as she became very conscious of the fact that she was only wearing her usual shirt and panties. Wolverine's jogging pants weren't leaving much to her imagination and Rogue was very aware of his reaction to their proximity.

"Wolverine," she breathed.

Wolverine's eyes darkened and suddenly their mouths were fusing together in a searing kiss. Rogue moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, trying to pull him closer still. His hand at her back began to move up and down, encouraging her body to mold itself to him completely. Heat from his roaming hand burned through her shirt and suddenly the clothing was too constricting. Rogue's hands slid out of Wolverine's hair and groped at the buttons on her flannel, but she was shaking too badly to make her fingers work properly. With a tiny mewl of frustration, Rogue ripped the shirt open, sending the offensive buttons shooting off to the sides before throwing the shirt off the side of the bed. Wolverine made a deep sound of appreciation as Rogue's hands moved back to their place in his hair and he found himself with a clear path to her breasts. Raising her arms pushed her breasts tantalizingly high and Wolverine ducked his head to take one into his mouth. Rogue gasped at the sensation of his hot tongue swirling in circles around her sensitive nipple before teasing it lightly with his teeth.

Her head spun as Wolverine finally released her breast to give the same treatment to the other one. She whimpered and instinctively ground down on the growing erection she could feel pressing against her from under his sweatpants. The friction of her movements tore a groan from Wolverine and Rogue felt him lift her slightly and push her backwards. They toppled over, never breaking contact; until Rogue felt her back hit the bed. Wolverine lowered himself onto one arm to avoid putting his full weight on her as he stretched out next to her. When he finally dragged his mouth up to her neck, he was breathing hard.

"Rogue," he said hoarsely.

Rogue made a small sound of disappointment when his mouth left her skin. She looked up at him, amber eyes hazy with desire.

"You . . . all right?" Wolverine asked.

The strain of holding back was evident in his voice and Rogue smiled, touched that he was so aware of her feelings. Remembering what Mystique had told her about telling him what she wanted, she reached over and took his free hand in hers. Slowly, she lowered it down to where her panties were already soaked. Wolverine groaned, ducking his head down to take hers in another searing kiss. His fingers stroked her lightly through her panties for a few minutes, drawing little sounds of pleasure from her. The Rogue heard the metallic sound of a single claw extending. She held her breath as the warm metal slid up her thigh to her panty line. Cutting first one side and then the other, Wolverine ripped her panties off her, throwing them to the side. Rogue turned her head to the side to speak softly into his ear.

"You didn't have to destroy them," she whispered.

"You ripped the buttons off my shirt," Wolverine responded against her skin.

Then all conversation stopped as Wolverine slid a finger inside her. Rogue's hips lifted off the bed, as she strained to push Wolverine's finger farther inside her. He chuckled at her impatient reaction.

"Easy, baby," he whispered. "Shhh . . ." Still, moving inside her with one finger, he slid another one in.

Rogue whimpered as her body began to ache with need. As she felt herself getting out of control, she gritted her teeth together and pulled her body up, away from Wolverine's pleasuring fingers. Wolverine immediately began to pull away, interpreting her movement as a sign of doubt, but Rogue grabbed his shoulders and pushed him over, rolling until she was on top of him. Lowering her head to his neck, she laved the area with her tongue before biting down slightly. Wolverine hummed slightly in pleasant confusion and Rogue smiled at the encouragement. She bit harder, nearly drawing blood and then soothing the spot with her tongue and Wolverine growled his approval. Moving her mouth down his chest, she trailed a path of hot kisses to each flat male nipple, taking a moment to lick and bite each one. As her head moved farther down, her hands reached to push his sweatpants down his legs and Wolverine obliged her by kicking them off the rest of the way. She smiled against the flesh of his toned stomach before moved her lips to his straining erection. Wolverine sucked in his breath as her mouth closed around him. He groaned as she sucked and licked him into a frenzy. Her hand slid up and down in the same rhythm as her mouth.

Suddenly a sense of deja vu came over Wolverine as he remembered that day in Rogue's mind. Looking down at her and feeling the erotic sensations sweeping over him, Wolverine felt his body tighten in final warning.

"Darlin'," he groaned.

Rogue ignored him and increased her efforts. With a growl Wolverine felt himself go over the edge. Rogue continued her ministrations until his body shuddered for the last time. Pulling back, she looked at him wickedly.

Wolverine snarled at her smug expression and grabbed her by her upper arms, flipping them over so he was on top. His eyes shone with desire and Wolverine kept his eyes on hers as he slowly slid his way down her body. Rogue gasped when his mouth found her sex. She felt him smile against her and then her concentration broke. Her head spun as delicious sensations wracked her body under Wolverine's experienced tongue. Rogue lost track of time, until in one explosive moment, she felt a surge of electricity throughout her body as her orgasm hit. Wolverine's mouth continued to torment her until the last wave of pleasure ebbed.

As her body went limp, Wolverine gave her one last lick before sliding back up her body and wrapping his arms around her. He maneuvered her so she was cradled against his body. Rogue took a wavering breath and sighed.

"Oh. Mah. God."

---

The next morning, Jean hurried down the hall to Wolverine's room. She had to be quick if she wanted to be on time meeting Scott for their walk. As Wolverine's door came into view, Jean picked up her pace. She just wanted to check on him and Rogue to make sure everything was all right to soothe her conscience. Last night she had heard some commotion from Wolverine's room, but no one had called out mentally for help and she hadn't responded. Now she wanted to make sure everything was as it should be. She squashed the voice in her head that pointed out that she could have easily just done a simple mind probe to check on them. Specifically, it was squashed by another voice that hoped for another glimpse of Wolverine's body.

It was that last thought that drove Jean to open the door without knocking. Thus it would be fair to say that what happened next was entirely Jean's fault. Just as Jean swung the door open, Wolverine and Rogue both woke up. Immediately, their enhanced senses registered an intruder and instinct took over. Wolverine's claws shot out as he sat up, just missing Rogue whose skin flared to life. Unfortunately, Wolverine's bare skin was still in contact with Rogue's naked body. His body twitched as the transfer opened and he fell back onto the bed, unconscious. Rogue's eyes widened as Wolverine's memories and strengths rushed into her and she quickly stopped the pull. Jean, who had froze in the doorway at the sight of Rogue and Wolverine's naked bodies entwined around one another, was jolted into action. Calling out telepathically for Cyclops, she rushed over to the bed where Rogue was already cradling Wolverine.

"Rogue, please get back, we've got to get him down to the Med Lab."

"No."

Jean looked up in shock as Rogue leaned over to keep her from touching Wolverine.

"Rogue, he's hurt and he needs medical attention!"

Rogue's voice was steady as she raised her eyes to meet Jean's.

"It'll wear off soon, it won't hurt him."

Jean's face was grim. "Rogue—"

"Just leave, Jean. Ah don't know what you were doing here in the first place, but you can leave now. Ah've been through this before and Ah know he'll be fine as soon as it wears off and Ah'm bettin' he'd rather wake up here with me than down in the goddamned Med Bay with you."

Jean's jaw dropped at the hostile tone in the younger woman's voice. She wanted to say something, but it was clear that Rogue was prepared to physically prevent her from moving Wolverine. Briefly, Jean considered hitting Rogue's mind with a bolt of telepathy, but Rogue seemed to guess what she was thinking.

"You'd rather deal with Sabretooth?"

Jean frowned and backed away. Rogue stilled and seemed to be listening to something only she could hear.

"Cyclops is on his way up," she said suddenly. "Would you be so kind as to meet him in the hallway? Ah'm just not dressed for company."

Jean's face flushed as she was suddenly aware of Rogue's nude state. Straightening up, she walked quickly out of the room, closing the door behind her before rushing to meet Cyclops.

Rogue sighed and looked down at the unconscious Wolverine.

"Guess Ah'd better get started on that steak."

---

From the shadows of a nearby building, a silent figure watched as the two X-Men walked down the sidewalk across the street. The sun shone down on the redhead, making her hair look like a halo of fire. She was a passionate woman with expressive green eyes, gesturing empathetically, caught up in what was no doubt a wild story. Her companion, a younger looking man with a red visor, stared sullenly down at the sidewalk. He didn't seem to be enjoying the conversation.

Gambit smiled grimly. Turning his attention a short distance ahead of them, his keen red on black eyes spotted a man standing with his face buried behind a newspaper. His slouch was overly casual as he held the paper with headlines screaming out about the mutant menace, the X-Men pictured dead center. As if he felt Gambit's eyes on him, the man looked up from behind his newspaper to where Gambit was hidden. Even with the bright sun shining, the thief blended in with the shadowy alley. Gambit nodded slightly, allowing his eyes to glow for the man to see. He nodded back and, shaking the paper, he turned abruptly, purposefully running right into the two X-Men. The one in the red visor immediately apologized, but the other man dropped the newspaper and started yelling angrily. Gambit smiled. Showtime.

---

"Scott, I'm serious. She's too reckless. Wolverine could be seriously injured and she won't let me help him!" Jean protested adamantly.

"Jean," Scott said tiredly. "Rogue has known Wolverine longer than we have. If she says this has happened before and is confident he is all right, I don't see that it's our place to challenge her. In fact—" suddenly he was cut off as a man standing on the sidewalk turned and ran into him.

"Excuse me," Scott said in surprise.

"Watch where you're going, asshole," the man snarled.

Cyclops rolled his eyes behind his visor and moved to step around the man. He did not have time for this today.

"Hey, wait a minute," the man said suddenly, grabbing Scott's arm and blocking their departure. "You're those muties ain't ya?"

"Sir, we really must be on our—" Jean began.

"You are! You're those damned X-Men! Freaks! Muties!"

Jean stepped closer to Scott as people on the street began to turn and stare. Several surly looking men began to move towards them, alerted by the first man's cries.

"Scott," Jean said in a low voice. "This is not the area of town to have a battle with our powers. Innocent people could get hurt."

"Yeah," Scott said grimly. "Us."

---

Gambit watched in satisfaction as several of the men began to shove the two X-Men. It was a mere seconds before a brawl had broken out and Gambit was sickened by how little it took to start an anti-mutant mob in this world.

Just as he'd known they would, the two X-Men were fighting valiantly without their powers, refusing to use them on a crowded street. Quickly, he leapt into action, moving across the street with long graceful strides. Skirting the gathering crowd, he slipped into the building behind the fight. Moving up to the second story, he put on a pair of dark sunglasses and opened the window facing the street.

---

Jean frowned in concentration as she tried to use just enough of her telekinesis to hold off the brunt of the attack, without being too obvious. Two men were glaring at her and stepping closer. If Jean hadn't known how deep their hatred of mutants was from the feelings they were projecting she would have sworn they were hesitating because she was a woman. Taking a few steps back, she crouched down slightly, making herself a smaller target. As one man stepped forward and reached out to grab her, Jean took his arm and threw her hip out into his midsection. Usually this move wouldn't work unless the man was charging her, letting her use his momentum, but Jean used her telekinesis to throw him over her shoulder, into the building behind them. Just as she'd suspected, his buddy didn't know the first thing about martial arts, and didn't think twice about the physics of what she'd just done. Big shocker there. He swore and swung his fist towards her face. Jean dodged the blow easily, and returned the favor with a swift kick to the man's ribs. In the few seconds that move allowed her, she looked over to see how Scott was faring.

Scott was starting to breathe heavy as the brunt of the attack fell on him. Jean had been dismissed as little threat, so most of the mutant-haters were focusing their attention on him. One of the men landed a punch in his stomach, and Scott grunted in pain. Recovering quickly, he lifted his hands in front of his face in an attempt to avoid having his visor knocked off, before darting a fist out to connect with the man's nose. As the man raised his hands to his broken nose, Scott turned to another man, blocking the attempted punch and returning with one of his own. Quickly following his punches up with solid kicks to the man's solar plexus. As the two men backed away slightly, Scott realized that three more men were already approaching.

He was starting to realize that their powers might be necessary after all, when something dropped down beside him. Suddenly there was a soft hiss as a stranger reached into his trench coat and pulled out a retractable bow. Then everything seemed to speed up. The man swung the bow in a wide circle, directed out at the men. One then the other fell to wicked hits in the sides of their heads. Scott watched for a few moments in shock, but he quickly shook himself out of it. As if they had choreographed it ahead of time, the two men began to move together against the crowd and in no time, the mutant haters had realized the odds were no longer in their favor and scattered like the cowards they were.

When the fight was over, Scott turned to Jean to make sure she was all right. They hugged briefly, before they both turned to face their savior. Gambit watched them with a steady gaze, his dark sunglasses still perfectly even on his face.

"Thank you," Scott said, extending his hand.

Gambit accepted the handshake.

"'Tink no'ting of it, mon ami," Gambit replied easily.

"Hardly. We owe you one. Not many people would come to the aid of two people being attacked by a mob."

Gambit looked at him and slowly removed his sunglasses. Jean and Scott both stared in surprise at the red on black orbs that seemed to glow as they looked at them.

"We got t' stick together, non?" Gambit said quietly.

Scott started to respond, but Jean laid a hand on his arm.

"Scott, maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere," she said softly, gesturing across the street where their attackers were starting to gather their courage again.

Scott followed her gaze and nodded.

"You're right." He seemed to consider what he was going to say next very carefully before speaking. Finally, he turned to Gambit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Jean-Paul Beaubier," he said with a nod.

"Jean-Paul, my name's Scott and this is Jean."

"Y' girlfriend?"

Scott looked surprised. "Yes, how did you know?"

Gambit tapped his head. "Empath."

Scott looked strangely pleased at his observation and Gambit fought the urge to smile. He had sensed the tension between them when they were walking down the street and knew things weren't all roses between Scott and Jean. Just as he had planned, his observation seemed to endear him to Scott.

"Well, Jean-Paul, why don't you come back with us? No use waiting around for those guys to get anymore ideas."

Gambit nodded. So far so good.

---

*****The branches of the trees whipped at his skin as he ran through the woods. His blood was pumping loudly in his ears as he ran, and the silvery moon seemed to call to him. His nose twitched and he could tell his mate was near. His body responded and he ran in the direction of her scent, but no matter how hard he ran, he got no closer. Then the smell of food drifted to him from the same direction. He stopped short, his chest heaving. Raising his face to the moon he howled.*****

Rogue froze as Wolverine howled in his sleep. Her feline eyes dilated as her body reacted to his primal call. Some part of her recognized the pure masculinity in the sound and Rogue set the steak and beer down on the nightstand before crawling onto the bed. Her nose twitched as she took in the minute changes in Wolverine's scent.

Suddenly, he shot up in bed. His eyes were wild and when he saw Rogue he growled and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down onto the bed. Pinning her body down with his own, he buried his face in her neck, taking in the scent of her skin and hair. His hands scrambled for the hem of her shirt and then he was pushing it up, moving his head down to the exposed skin. Rogue trembled as his mouth hovered over her breast. Like a bolt of lightening the realization hit her that the spot Wolverine was nuzzling right now was the spot where Sabretooth had bit her that horrible night in the cabin. The beast in Wolverine seemed to sense Sabretooth's mark on her and Rogue gasped as his mouth closed over the spot, teeth sinking into her to claim her as his. She could feel an answering call in her own blood and she started to reach out to hold his head to her. Wolverine pulled back, lapping lightly at the two tiny dots of blood that were already healing.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the connection was gone. Wolverine bolted upright again, rolling off of Rogue. For a minute, he just sat there staring off into space. Rogue sat up and watched him quietly, giving him time. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, she sighed and reached over to the nightstand. Picking up the beer and the steak, she set them down in front of Wolverine.

Wolverine's eyes squeezed shut and he drew a shaky breath.

"I don't deserve you," he said quietly.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "You're the one who shredded mah panties and insisted Ah don't sleep in any clothes. Ah was perfectly willing to get dressed last night—"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said firmly. He turned and looked her in the eyes, and Rogue saw a deep sadness in those depths.

"Then what did you mean?" she asked softly.

Wolverine shook his head and looked away. Rogue sighed.

"Look, either you can tell me what's wrong, or Ah can flip through your memories and find out. It's your choice."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Wolverine's mouth.

"I thought you didn't nose around other people's memories."

"Ah'll make an exception," Rogue said dryly.

Wolverine stifled a groan. He had never been good at talking about his feelings; it was all too girly. Finally, he took a deep breath and decided to just get it out.

"I've been out of work too long. I need jobs to keep me sane. When I'm not working I start . . . feeling different."

Rogue furrowed her eyebrows. "Different how?"

Wolverine couldn't meet her gaze. "More like an animal, less like a man."

Rogue looked confused for a second before his words sank in. Suddenly, understanding dawned on her and she felt a rush of emotion for the man in front of her. Reaching out slowly, she put a hand on Wolverine's shoulder.

"Logan," she said gently, deliberately using his name. "Ah know exactly what you mean. Ever since Ah absorbed Sabretooth, Ah've felt the same way. Ah'm already so used to the enhanced senses and the cat's eyes, sometimes Ah feel like Ah'm more of him and less of me."

Wolverine looked up at that.

"I guess you would know what I'm talking about then," he murmured. His eyes were serious. "Then you know that I'm afraid of hurting you."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ah love how you can say that with a straight face when Ah've nearly put you in a coma how many times?"

Wolverine chuckled a little and nodded. "Yeah, you do pack quite a punch." Then he was serious again. "But it's not just that I'm afraid I'll attack you. Well, not exactly. It's just . . ." *Christ this was embarrassing* "When I start to lose myself to . . . the animal in me everything pretty much boils down to food and . . ."

"Sex?" Rogue supplied helpfully.

Wolverine nodded miserably. He wished he could go back to the times when narrowing life down to just food and sex was actually an acceptable game plan.

Rogue's voice was a little hoarse when she spoke again. "Ah don't think Ah mind that so much, actually."

Wolverine shot her a look at that. His blood ran a little hotter as the beast in him contemplated what it would be like to completely let himself go with her. She had a healing factor now, not to mention something akin to his beast inside her. Then he shook his head. He couldn't do that to her.

"I don't want to hurt you. Christ, you just got control of your powers, I don't want to take you like some sort of animal."

Rogue looked at him and he could see her mind working. Her eyes had a far away look in them and her scent shifted slightly.

"Tell me you're not picturing it," he demanded, flustered.

Rogue smiled slowly and Wolverine groaned.

"See? You're not helping matters any."

Rogue laughed, breaking the tension. "Eat your steak, beastie. And then get dressed and we'll go find some way for you to feel all manly again."

Wolverine rolled his eyes, but he picked up the steak. A fight was a fight, but food is food and Rogue's powers seemed to have sucked all the sustenance out of him too. So, he let the subject drop. After all, he figured. He could control himself.

---

Gambit's posture in the car was the epitome of casual as he and the two X-Men drove up to the gates outside of the mansion. They had taken Jean's convertible and Gambit was lounging in the back with one arm over the side of the car. The rushing wind felt good and brought out a smile on his face that made him the picture of relaxation. However, behind his sunglasses, his thief's eyes and mutant kinetic senses were riveted on Cyclops' every movement as he pulled up to punch in a code to open the mansion's wrought iron gate. As a thief, Gambit could have gotten in without Cyclops' information, but as a professional thief he knew that time was money and opportunities should never be wasted.

As they drove, Gambit took the opportunity to study Scott and Jean. The two made a good couple, even if she was obviously a bit older. Gambit smiled at that. He was known for his way with women almost as well as he was known for his talent as a master thief, and if there was one thing you didn't remind women of it was their age— especially when it's more than their significant other.

Using his empathy, Gambit could sense different emotions coming off each of them. Scott was easy since he was practically humming with importance as he escorted the new mutant towards enlightenment with the X-Men. Gambit smirked. He was probably a Boy Scout. Teacher's pet and the whole nine yards.

Then he turned his attention to Jean. He could feel a tension coming off of her in waves, and Gambit was curious as to what the cause was. She seemed to feel his gaze, hidden as it was by years of practice, and she blushed slightly, deliberately keeping her eyes forward. Careful to stay under her telepathic radar, Gambit expanded his empathy a little. Sexual tension lashed out at him and Gambit quickly threw up a block. His eyes widened behind his shades. *Mon Dieu* he thought, impressed. *Dis femme gonna explode.*

With a renewed interest, Gambit turned back to Cyclops, this time probing deeper. Just as he suspected, there was a serious jealousy complex lurking under the fearless leader facade. Gambit wondered who was causing these emotions in the ostensibly happy couple. As they pulled into the spacious garage, Gambit realized he was most likely going to find the answer to that question very soon.

They got out of the car and Scott motioned for Gambit to follow him into the mansion. They led him through the high paneled halls towards what Gambit was certain would be the Professor's office, and Gambit couldn't help but notice that an enterprising thief could retire on the spoils pinched from this place. Quickly, he pressed that thought down into his subconscious and strengthened his mental blocks. Not the kind of thoughts to be having around the world's most powerful telepath.

"The Professor will want to meet you, Jean-Paul," Scott said as they approached the door. "I trust you've heard of him?"

Gambit nodded. "Oui. De Professor is well known among all mutants for his work."

"He's done wonderful work in his field," Jean agreed absently.

Gambit noticed her distraction and looked over at her. He recognized the concentration in her eyes and realized she was using her telepathy. For a moment he worried she may be trying to read him, but his empathy was picking up bits of jealousy and he quickly guessed she must be searching for someone in the mansion. Gambit wondered if it was the object of Scott's jealousy.

Cyclops knocked on the door to the Professor's office before opening it. As they entered, the Professor looked up expectantly. He'd sensed their arrival and was curious as to the identity of their guest.

"Professor, I'd like you to meet Jean-Paul Beaubier. Jean and I ran into some trouble in town and Jean-Paul helped us out."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Jean-Paul," the Professor said sincerely. "It seems we owe you our gratitude."

"Non, Professor, jus happy to help," Gambit replied easily.

"That's refreshing." The Professor noticed Gambit's accent. "Where are you from, Jean-Paul?" the Professor asked.

"Lots of different places. It's never good to stay in one place too long, considerin' how most people feel about mutants," Gambit said, giving his pre-considered answer. He was used to people asking that question when they heard his accent.

Xavier nodded in understanding, but wondered why Jean-Paul would have to worry about people knowing that he was a mutant. He didn't seem to have a physical mutation that would interfere with him passing for a normal human. "Does your mutation make it difficult for you to blend in with the rest of society?" he asked curiously.

Gambit reached up and slowly removed his shades. He looked at Xavier solemnly, blinking his red on black eyes.

"Oui."

"May I ask what the nature of your powers are?"

Gambit smiled. "After you," he said graciously, gesturing to the X-Men.

Scott stepped forward. "They call me Cyclops." His visor flashed. "I can shoot optic blasts from my eyes."

Gambit nodded. "'Y need the glasses, non?"

"The glasses are ruby quartz. It helps me control them," Cyclops explained.

Gambit nodded and turned to the redhead.

Jean stepped forward. "My name is Jean Grey. I'm a telepath with some telekinetic abilities."

"No codename?" Gambit joked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jean looked at the Professor briefly before smiling.

"It's a long story."

Gambit shrugged and turned to the Professor expectantly.

"I am a telepath," the Professor supplied.

"The most powerful telepath in the world," Jean added proudly.

Xavier smiled.

Gambit took a deep breath. "Dey call me Gambit. Along with my empathy, I can also charge `tings wit kinetic energy." He reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a playing card. It flared up with a bright pink energy and Gambit flicked it into the air, where it exploded harmlessly.

Xavier watched with interest. "A very nice demonstration."

Gambit smiled. He didn't mention the fact that he also had an enhanced natural agility. There was no reason for him to let them know the full extent of his abilities and enhanced agility had helped him surprise his opponents on a number of occasions.

Professor Xavier concentrated briefly and smiled at Gambit. A few minutes later, a tall well-built young man with closely cropped black hair opened the door to the office.

"You wished to see me, Professor?" he asked politely.

Gambit could hear the trace of an accent and speculated that the young man was Russian.

"Yes, Peter," the Professor spoke up. He turned to Gambit. "I would like you to take our guest, Jean-Paul, on a tour of the mansion."

Peter nodded, and waited for Gambit to accompany him from the room. Gambit nodded at the Professor and turned to leave. He had figured that the Professor would want to speak to Jean and Scott about him in private.

When he and Peter closed the door behind them, the Professor turned to Jean and Scott.

"Well, what do you think, Professor?" asked Scott.

"Jean-Paul seems to be an earnest young man, and his eyes would make it difficult for him to blend into society. In a way, it is much like Rogue. Just as it is unusual for her to be covered head to toe in the summer, I imagine it is unusual for Gambit to wear sunglasses at night. I believe it is safe to offer him a place here," the Professor said thoughtfully.

Jean furrowed her eyebrows. "I'll admit he seems quite charming, but I'm a little perturbed as to his thoughts. I wasn't able to get a reading on him at all. It's almost as bad as reading Rogue, to make yet another comparison between the two."

The Professor shook his head slightly. "I don't think that's peculiar at all, Jean. Because Gambit is an empath, it is entirely possible, indeed if not probable, that he projects the emotions of others somewhat. Just as it is difficult to sense Rogue because of the bits of others' memories in her mind, it would be difficult to sense Gambit's thoughts because of his awareness of the emotions of others."

Jean nodded. "You're probably right."

---

Gambit took in the scenery around the mansion as he listened to Peter talk about the different parts. It was an enormous place, which seemed to easily house the many mutants that he knew lived there. Turning his attention back to his guide, Gambit respectfully waited for Peter to pause before asking the question that had been on his mind since he'd seen the man.

"So what are your powers, mon ami?"

Peter turned to him and smiled. Suddenly, there was a metallic sound and Gambit watched with interest as Peter's flesh was encased in a shiny layer of metal. He seemed to get bigger with the transformation and when he was through, he had gone from 6'4" to 6'7".

"In this form, I am quite strong," Peter said, smiling. "I am called Colossus."

Gambit couldn't help but idly wonder if he would be able to charge Colossus' metal skin.

"Must be a handy power in battle," he commented.

Peter shook his head. "I have not yet joined the team. Though I hope to do so soon. I feel I could help."

Gambit nodded. "You'd `tink de X-Men would want all de help dey could get."

Peter shrugged. "They have very powerful mutants on the team already. Not to mention, Rogue and Wolverine have expressed a willingness to help if they're needed in appreciation for the help and hospitality Professor Xavier has provided them."

Gambit tried to keep his voice light, hiding his reaction to the mention of Wolverine's name.

"Rogue and Wolverine? Are dey members of the team too?"

Colossus shook his head again. "No. They are merely here as guests while the Professor is helping Rogue."

"Helping Rogue?" Gambit prodded.

Colossus nodded. "I am not sure exactly what the Professor is working on with her." He turned to Gambit. "Would you like to meet them?"

Gambit's eyes flashed behind his sunglasses.

"Oui."

---

Wolverine grunted as he lifted the 300 lb barbell for the fourteenth time. Once again, as he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at Rogue's crotch about six inches from his face.

"Dammit woman, you're killing my concentration," he growled.

Rogue didn't look away from the barbell. "If Ah'm gonna spot you, Ah've gotta be able to lift the weight if you need me to. Ah can't stand behind you, cause with mah arms extended Ah wouldn't even be able to slow down 300 lbs, let alone keep it from crushing you."

Wolverine looked up at her position again. He was lying back, pushing the barbell straight up. Rogue was standing with her feet on either side of his head, following the barbell with him in case he fumbled. Her legs were bent slightly in case she had to take the weight. The result was obscene.

"I don't even need a goddamn spotter," Wolverine grumbled petulantly.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Tough shit, you've got one."

"Sadist."

Rogue laughed and was about to respond, when they heard a strangled sound from the doorway. Wolverine quickly replaced the barbell and moved to sit up. Rogue had turned to look, but hadn't moved from her position, so his face ended up buried in her abdomen. Rogue grunted and fell back, recovering enough to make a graceful landing. She glared at Wolverine before turning back to their visitors. Colossus was standing in the doorway next to a tall man in a brown trench coat and sunglasses.

"Petey, if you blush any harder, your metal will melt," she commented wryly.

True to form, Peter blushed even harder and Rogue smiled. Peter was a farm boy in Russia and he'd never quite gotten over the naiveté that comes with that kind of isolation. Rogue and Wolverine both liked him because he was honest and sincere. Plus, he could kick some serious ass if he had to.

"'Y have to forgive de boy, mademoiselle. In the presence of such a beautiful femme, even de best of us blush a little."

Rogue stared at the newcomer. He was a little over six feet tall and built lean. Even under the trench coat, Rogue could tell he was strong though. His accent was undeniably Cajun, and he had that confident stance that one only got from knowing he can take care of himself. In minutes she had sized him up and determined he would be a formidable adversary. Being raised by Mystique had taught her not to be taken in by a pretty face, and made her somewhat cynical of men's flattery so she kept her guard up.

She could hear Wolverine growl behind her and guessed he wasn't impressed either.

"Who the hell are you?" Wolverine demanded, standing up. He didn't like the newcomer already.

Gambit fought the urge to look at Wolverine and kept his eyes on Rogue. Something primal in him wanted to hit Wolverine with all he had, getting his revenge right then, but he held back. He would have his revenge in time and Wolverine deserved to suffer for what he'd done. Right now Gambit needed to keep his wits about him. He couldn't do anything until he had all the information he could get. First thing's first, he had to know exactly what the relationship between Wolverine and Rogue really was.

Keeping his perfect smile in place, Gambit looked at Rogue.

"'Forgive my rudeness, Chere. I am Jean-Paul Beaubier. Dey call me Gambit."

Rogue nodded. "Ah'm Rogue." She gestured behind her. "This is Wolverine."

Gambit turned to Wolverine. "Bonjour, Wolverine." Immediately, he looked back at Rogue, not giving Wolverine a chance to respond. He walked forward and moved to take Rogue's bare hand in his gloved one. As he lowered his face as if to kiss it, Rogue cleared her throat.

"Wouldn't do that if Ah were you, Cajun."

Gambit stopped, looking up at her questioningly.

"Mah powers."

He waited for her to explain, but Rogue just left it at that. Gambit hadn't been able to get any information on the exact nature of Rogue's powers, so he decided to err on the side of caution. Slowly, Gambit lowered her hand.

"Beautiful and strong. Is dere anything you can't do, chere?" he asked lightly.

Rogue looked him in the eye. "Not with a little help from mah friends."

Peter and Wolverine both smirked a little at the reference to her absorption powers. Neither said anything about her failure to explain that she could control it.

Gambit recovered easily. He had the information he needed. His little show with Rogue had inspired enough emotion in Wolverine for Gambit's empathy to determine that they were indeed romantically involved. He also knew that Rogue was much more cynical than most women, since he wasn't picking up the usual attraction from her that he usually did. Wolverine was protective, but that had been obvious from the beginning. All in all, Gambit thought things went well.

Just then, Peter cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but Professor Xavier would like to speak with you again, Gambit."

Gambit nodded. Shooting Rogue a dazzling smile, he bowed.

"Chere." He didn't look at Wolverine. "Wolverine."

Then he joined Peter and the two of them left the room.

After they left, Wolverine turned to Rogue.

"I don't like him."

Rogue giggled. "Oh really? Ah hadn't noticed."

Wolverine scowled. "He rubs me the wrong way. I don't trust him."

Rogue walked over and put a hand on his arm.

"Relax, Wolvie. He's not our problem."

"He could be. You know the Professor's gonna offer to let him stay." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You shoulda let him kiss your hand and zapped him. At least then we'd know more about him."

"Mah head's crowded enough as it is," Rogue commented wryly. "Anyway, Ah have a feelin' Ah'm gonna have to watch you two bickering and Ah don't need to listen to ya'll in mah head too." Wolverine didn't look convinced and Rogue put her arms around him. She pressed her body to his and grinned as his body reacted. "Besides, you don't have to worry about me. Ah kin handle the Cajun."

Wolverine put his hands on her hips and groaned appreciatively. With one last look at the door Gambit had exited through, he let it go. Whatever the Cajun was up to, he would find out eventually.

---

Professor Xavier leaned back in his chair and smile at their guest. "I've talked with Jean and Scott, and they both agree. If you'd like to stay here, Gambit, you're more than welcome."

Across the desk, Gambit's eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, so the others couldn't see him looking at the filing cabinets behind the Professor. A man as responsible as Xavier no doubt kept nice detailed files on every one of his students. And every one of his guests. He turned to the Professor and smiled.

"I'd love to Professor, thank you." His eyes drifted back to the files. "'Y have no idea how much dis means t' me."

Late that night, Rogue woke up to a strange sound. Her mind still groggy, she became aware of a rumbling underneath her cheek. As the fog around her brain began to fade, she realized she was lying with her cheek on Wolverine's bare chest and he was growling.

"What did Ah do now?" Rogue demanded, sitting up and looking down at his face.

Wolverine's eyes were squeezed shut, and he just continued to growl. Startled, Rogue realized he was still asleep. Looking closer, she tried to determine whether he was having a nightmare. He wasn't sweating or thrashing around. Nor was he shouting. Nope, Rogue decided. He's just having a run of the mill Wolverine dream. Probably hunting his prey through a jungle or something. She smiled softly. He was too cute.

Standing up carefully, Rogue slipped on a pair of boxers to go with Wolverine's flannel. He'd finally given in and bought a few pairs of boxers when Rogue had complained that she didn't like having to put her jeans or a bodysuit on when she wanted to get up in the middle of the night. She had known Wolverine wouldn't want her wandering around in just a flannel and panties. At first, she'd just intended to buy some for herself, but Wolverine had insisted that she just let him buy some boxers and she could wear them whenever she wanted to. Secretly, Rogue thought Wolverine just wanted her to wear something that would remind people that she was with him, and to stay the hell away.

Giggling a little as she left the room and went downstairs, Rogue shook her head at the thought. Who else but Wolverine would want her anyway? Immediately, Rogue thought of the stranger she'd met in the gym and she blushed slightly. Kicking herself for the thought, Rogue headed for the kitchen. The last thing she needed right now was to be thinking about some Cajun charmer who was probably just a flake anyway. `Chere' indeed. Who did he think he was fooling?

Entering the kitchen, Rogue headed straight for the fridge. Opening the door, she groped around the back for the beer that Wolverine had stashed back there. It hissed as she twisted off the cap and Rogue walked over to the sliding glass door. Stepping out onto the porch, she sighed as a soothing breeze rustled her hair. The darkness enveloped her, but she could still see clearly and, for once, that didn't bother her. She wasn't Sabretooth, she was Rogue. She knew it and Wolverine knew it and that was all that mattered. Content with the serene moment, she took a sip of her beer.

As she sat down on the swing, Rogue let her mind wander back to the stranger with the red on black eyes. Gambit. There was something about him that was tickling the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She thought back to his smooth words and genteel movements. He certainly had been attractive. A man like that knew how to sweep a girl off her feet. A man like that counted on it. Rogue pursed her lips. Maybe that was what bothered her about him. For as long as she could remember, Mystique had warned her about men like that. Men who counted on women being weak and easily manipulated by flattery and false promises. Mystique had hated men like that and she'd hated the women that fell for it.

Rogue frowned as she took another sip of beer. Was that why she'd stopped Gambit when he leaned down to kiss her hand? Was she still acting on her mother's warnings? Or was it Wolverine? Rogue subconsciously tilted her head to the side as she pondered that thought. Wolverine had been sitting right beside her when Gambit had taken her hand. They had been in a more than compromising position when Peter and the Cajun had walked in on them. Maybe she was offended. It should have been obvious that she and Wolverine and together and yet Gambit did not hesitate to lay on the charm right in front of him. It was almost as if he were trying to cause trouble. Not that it would have taken much to aggravate him. Wolverine had been getting more and more . . . primal. Rogue knew with an instinctual certainty that Wolverine considered her his mate.

His mate. A delicious chill ran through Rogue at the sound of that. It sounded so bestial. Just like Wolverine. Particularly as of late.

That thought sobered Rogue up. Wolverine had been getting edgier and edgier lately. He was starting to get more physical, not just with her, but also in the Danger Room. She knew that while she was in sessions with the Professor, Wolverine often went to the Danger Room to work out his aggressions. She'd noticed that he was working in there longer and longer, too. The last time, she had actually had to wait on him to be done, instead of the other way around. She worried that what he'd said earlier may be true. Maybe he did need his job to keep him focused.

Before Rogue could ponder the matter further, her nose twitched. A scent had wafted over to her on the wind. Pushing the jumble of her previous thoughts from her mind, Rogue focused her attention on the new sensory input. It was familiar, and Rogue instantly recognized it as Gambit's. Along with Sabretooth's enhanced senses, she'd gotten his ironclad olfactory memory. He had a hunter's recall of scents and she could recognize people she'd just met as easily by scent as by sight.

Carefully setting down her empty bottle, Rogue got up. Moving with the stealth she had trained her whole life to get, as well as that which she'd stolen from Sabretooth, she reentered the house and followed the hallway in the direction the scent had come from. The mansion was as dark as the shadows outside, but once again Rogue had no trouble with the lack of . Slowly and quietly, she continued to follow her nose until her eyes landed on a light in front of her. A sliver of illumination on the floor just ahead of her signaled that a light was on in the room behind the closed door. The Professor's office. Adrenaline ran through her system as her body slid into stealth mode and she crept towards the door.

---

*Mon Dieu* Gambit thought. His fingers flipped through Rogue's file again. He had been stupid. If Rogue had been so inclined, she could have ruined his whole plan before he even had one. He looked down at the Professor's words. "Has the power to absorb the memories, strength, and abilities of any mutant or human with the slightest skin to skin contact." If he'd kissed her hand in the gym, she could have taken all the information she needed to spoil his plot. He had been a fool not to discover the nature of her powers before meeting her. Obviously, Wolverine had taken up too much of his concentration and he had neglected the more dangerous of the two.

Gambit stopped reading and looked off into space. Rogue had turned out to be quite a challenge. Not only had she not swooned at his attentions in the gym, she apparently had the power to get whatever information she wanted from him with a touch. A touch Gambit had only been to willing to invite. Gambit's eyes glowed slightly. A very worthy adversary. And a very big challenge. The corners of Gambit's mouth pulled up into a smile. He could practically hear his brother Henri chastising him. *Remy, mon frere, you gotta be more careful. Y' can't make every 'ting a game or y' gonna get caught.*

Gambit smiled bigger now. He had always loved a challenge. Especially a challenge as beautiful as Rogue. If she wasn't involved with the abominable Wolverine, Gambit may have even considered laying a claim to her himself. As it was, perhaps he would have a little fun before leading them to Kroker.

Suddenly, Gambit's kinetic senses picked up movement in the hallway. It was so slight, he almost missed it, and Gambit cursed himself for getting wrapped up in his thoughts. Quickly, he replaced the folder. Standing in front of the door, he charged one of his cards. Turning off the lights, he waited for the sound to get close enough before flinging the door open. A pair of reflective amber eyes slinted at him from the darkness and a shape detached itself from the shadows, leaping forward. Even with his enhanced agility and faultless reflexes, Gambit barely managed to throw his card before the thing hit him. True to form, the card found its target and exploded.

There was a hiss as Rogue's body was flung backwards, knocking her into the far wall. Her head bounced sickeningly off of the hard surface before her body crumpled to the floor. Quickly, Gambit closed the door to the Professor's office. He approached Rogue carefully, wincing at the sight of her body crumpled up on the floor. He may be a thief and a scoundrel, but Gambit had been raised never to hit women. This little encounter did not sit well with him as voices from his childhood screeched chastisement at him and he just hoped that he had at least managed to accomplish some good from it. If all went well, the blow to the head should make Rogue's memory hazy enough that she wouldn't remember seeing the light in the Professor's office. That way, Gambit could just pretend he hadn't been able to sleep and had found her unconscious as he lost himself in the mansion.

Gambit was still moving closer to the body, when he became aware of a low rumbling sound. His demonic eyes widened as Rogue's form unfolded itself and she leapt up at him. His moment of surprise cost him as she crashed into him, knocking them both to the floor. Pinned underneath her sudden weight, Gambit was shocked to find himself staring up into wild feline eyes without a trace of recognition in them. For the first time in he didn't know how many years, Gambit felt panic lance through him. It was the irrational fear of a child who's run into a wild animal. Rogue growled at him. One of her hands wound around his throat, cutting of his air, the other one rising and viciously swiping downwards. Her fingernails dragged across his face like talons, leaving angry red lines in their wake. The fingers of the hand around his throat dug painfully into his skin with bruising force. As he felt the pressure on his windpipe increase, Gambit snapped out of his panic. Instinctively pulling his legs up against his chest, he kicked out as hard as he could. His feet made contact with Rogue's chest and the air whooshed out of her lungs and her grip slackened. The force of the kick propelled her into the air, but this time, she was ready for it, and managed to land gracefully on her feet. Gambit stood up quickly, taking stock of the situation. His neck throbbed and his face burned where she'd scratched him, but he forced himself to focus on his opponent. There was something different about Rogue's stance, the way she moved.

"Rogue?" he asked cautiously.

She didn't answer. Instead, with a fury that belied the lithe body that contained it, Rogue leapt at Gambit again. This time Gambit was ready and he stepped aside. Withdrawing another card, he charged it and held it ready.

"Chere, I don want t' hurt you again," he warned.

She roared at him and again launched herself at his body. The way she continually attacked him simply by charging into him seemed strange for someone of her stature. Usually, that style of fighting was reserved for those big enough to rely on their bulk to bring down an opponent. Confusion washed over Gambit. From what he'd learned about Rogue, this sloppiness seemed absurdly out of character. Where was her training? Where was her strategy? Where was her provocation? As she came hurtling through the air in front of him, Gambit was forced to abandon his query. Grimly, he threw the card.

---

Rogue groaned in pain. Her eyelids fluttered open and for a moment she couldn't remember where she was. A fierce headache was threatening to split her skull and her body felt as though someone had thrown acid over her. As her head began to clear, Rogue looked down to see what the source of her pain was. Shock ripped through her system as she realized her clothes had been burned away. Looking closer, Rogue watched her skin knitting itself back together. The wound didn't look as though it had been too severe, but it hurt like hell and the healing didn't feel much better. Rogue winced and grit her teeth. Her nose twitched.

The sense most tied to memory is scent. As a combination of spice and smoke hit Rogue's nose, a connection slammed into place. Whipping her head up, she spotted Gambit standing a few feet away. His face was smeared with blood and his red on black eyes were regarding her warily. He was holding something in his hand and it was glowing pink with glaring intensity.

"Gambit?" Rogue asked, confused. Something about his stance was almost defensive and Rogue felt a growing feeling of dread.

"Chere?" Gambit took a cautious step towards her.

"What happened?" she asked hesitantly.

"'Y went a little crazy, chere." He stepped closer. "'Y okay?"

Rogue closed her eyes. There was no doubt in her mind now as to what had just happened. It was a miracle Gambit was still standing.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath before opening her eyes again. "Gambit, Ah'm so sorry," she whispered. All mistrust of the stranger was forgotten in the flood of guilt that washed over her. Sabretooth was a fate worse than death to Rogue. The fact that she now unknowingly inflicted that kind of horror on others made her skin crawl.

Gambit's face relaxed slightly as his empathy alerted him of her sincerity. "No permanent damage," he assured her. He reached a hand down and Rogue let him pull her to her feet. Silently, he removed his trenchcoat, politely wrapping it around Rogue to cover her bare torso. "'Y wanna talk about it?"

Rogue moved to shake her head, but stopped. She did kind of owe him an explanation. She nodded sadly.

"Ah guess Ah owe ya that much." She sighed. "Come on in the kitchen. This calls for a beer."

---

Gambit tried not to wince as the beer hit his palate. He had never really been a beer person. In New Orleans, liquor and fine wine were his preferred choices. A thief he may be, but those thieves good enough to make their way into the infamous Thieves Guild were no strangers to the finer things in life. Gambit's palate was consequently somewhat spoiled. Still, he knew as he watched Rogue toss back another beer, he'd made the right decision in joining her. Already, her shoulders were a little more relaxed and the tension was leaving her face.

"So," he said carefully, sipping his beer. "You wan tell Gambit what happened?"

Rogue giggled, nervously stalling for time. "Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?"

Gambit arched an eyebrow. "Non."

The smile died on Rogue's face. Solemnly, she set her beer down on the countertop, her fingernails scraping at the label distractedly. Her eyes fell on the blood at her fingertips, and suddenly, Rogue turned back to Gambit. Intentionally or not, he had sat down to her left, keeping the injured side of his face turned away from her. Her eyes grew sad as she began to explain.

"Mah powers threw me for a bit of a loop, not too long ago. Normally, Ah kin absorb someone just by touchin' them, but it wears off after a while." She hesitated slightly before continuing. "Well, one night Ah touched another mutant in the middle of a fight." She gripped her beer again. "Ah don't know if it was just the fact that Ah touched him in the middle of violence or what, but every once in a while his psyche gets a little out of hand and he takes over for a bit." She tried to keep her tone light, but her hands shook slightly when she raised her beer to her lips.

Gambit watched her with an unwavering gaze. Although the emotions washing off of her were sincere enough, he thought she'd rushed through that explanation awfully quick and he had the distinct impression she wasn't telling him the whole story. Underneath the other emotions, he could sense a deep-seated fear. It led him to wonder just what kind of "violence" had been in progress when she touched this other mutant.

"So, it was dis other mutant dat attacked me, non?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Gambit looked at her for a long moment. The way his trenchcoat rested on her shoulders before sweeping down the rest of her body had a strangely moving effect on him. Behind them, the moonlight was starting to pierce the clouds that had been hiding it. The silvery beams cast the half of Rogue's face that he could see in shadow. The white streak through her dark brown hair seemed to glow, perfectly framing the smooth skin of her face. Sitting with her head tilted down as she was, Gambit was struck by her beauty. In this light she looked so innocent. So fragile.

"Gambit?" Rogue asked.

Gambit started, realizing he had let his mind wander. Recovering quickly, he flashed Rogue a smile that had melted more than one woman on the spot.

"Sorry, chere, Gambit jus admirin' de view."

Rogue raised her eyebrows, but didn't make a sarcastic comment. She had just attacked him, so she could let the lame come-ons go. Still, he would only get so far on that dime.

"So," she said, changing the subject. "Are you really Cajun, or do you just fake it for the ladies?"

"Gambit never fake any'ting, chere." Rogue's eyes shined with amusement and Gambit chuckled as he sensed the distrust rolling off of her in waves. "Really Cajun," he answered defeatedly. "Born and raised in New Orleans, actually."

Rogue looked interested. "New Orleans? Ah'll bet that must have made for a pretty exciting childhood."

Gambit got a faraway look in his eyes. "Oui," he said softly.

For a second, Rogue thought he was going to say more, but suddenly her attention was snatched away. Her olfactory senses were screaming at her. Her mate was close by. Whipping her head to the side, she spotted him. His bulky shape was half hidden in the darkness of the doorway, but there was no mistaking the menace of his tense position. Stepping forward, he moved closer to the light and Rogue could see the muscles in his body practically humming with tension. Before she could greet him, Rogue's ears picked up a disturbing sound. A low growl was rolling around in Wolverine's chest. Rogue raised her eyes to his face and almost gasped. His eyes were slightly glazed, burning with fury. The shadows danced across the bare skin of his chest and down his abdomen to where his sweatpants began. Rogue felt her body react immediately to the erotic picture her mate was making and she felt her knees grow weak as Wolverine took another step towards her.

---

Gambit's eyes glowed as he carefully kept his eyes on Wolverine. It didn't take an empath to pick up on the overwhelming hostility emanating from the other man. What was much more surprising, was the desire he felt coming from Rogue. He couldn't spare a look in her direction without taking his eyes off the immediate threat, but Gambit didn't need to look at her to know what she was feeling. There was no trace of fear in the woman beside him, even as the snarling Wolverine took yet another step closer. Gambit had the fleeting thought that he was in a very bad position. A position between the Wolverine and his mate. Before he could ponder his precarious situation any further though, Wolverine roared and leapt.

Distantly, Gambit was aware of Rogue's shout.