Warmth, when was the last time she'd been this warm? Her sleep fogged mind swam in lazy circles as she half-heartedly tried to come up with a timeframe, but quickly decided that she didn't really care. All that mattered was the feeling of the soft mattress beneath her and the warmth of the blankets over her. She was tempted to turn and bury her face into the soft pillow beneath her head and she let a sigh of contentment escape her lips as her mind and body began to re-enter the world of awareness.

She stiffened as she became aware of a nearby presence and the faint noises that could only belong to medical equipment. Any contentment at the comfort she had been feeling before fled as fear and panic filled her. She couldn't have found her again could she?

Her eyes flew open and she struggled to sit up, trying desperately to pull free of the snarl of tubes she could feel attached to her. Pain suddenly rushed through her ribs and the intensity of the pain from her injured wrist made her cry out.

"Whoa, whoa petite," a calm, rich voice said," Yo' alright. No one's gonna hurt yo'."

She turned towards the voice and froze in shock. It was him, the one who had given her the necklace, and rescued her from that mob. She lifted her eyes to meet his, forcing her emotions to calm down; if he really wanted to hurt her he would have done that already. Besides, as long as she hadn't recaptured her she could deal.

"Where am Ah?" she asked, cursing her voice for sounding so hoarse and weak.

He smiled, and tilted his head to the side studying her.

"Well, let's jus' say dat yo' at Headquarters. I'm guessin' dat yo' heard of de Thieves Guild."

"What pickpocket hasn't?" she asked wryly and paused as she watched his smile widen a bit," Wait… is that where Ah am now?"

"Oui," he said and leaned forward in his chair," How much do yo' remember?"

"Ya mean, before I blacked out?" she asked. He nodded and she continued," Ah remember you giving me that necklace," she pinned him with a look," gettin' captured, being touted as a mutant, gettin' beat up, and you helpin' me." She paused," Did Ah miss anythin'?"

He chuckled," Dat sounds about right cherie. Desole 'bout dat, but I had ta dump dat necklace right quick and yo' were awfully convenient. But if had any idea dat yo' were a mutant and dat everythin' woulda worked out like dat, I'd never have done it."

She sighed and leaned back onto the pillows, still very aware of the injuries she'd sustained. "Ah can't say Ah'm happy 'bout any of that, but you did come back ta get me. And that's more than anyone else has ever done, so thank ya."

"It was de least I could do, after all dose injuries were my fault," he said, waving off her thanks," But dere is one thing dat I've been wonderin'."

"What's that?"

"Back in dat alley, I saw dat man touch yo' skin and den he passed out cold. I know yo' a mutant chere, but what exactly is yo' mutation?"

She sighed, flinching as her body protested, and glanced down at her gloveless hands. "Ah'm an absorber, Ah can take a person's life force, their memories, their lives if Ah hung on long enough, and if they're mutants then Ah can borrow their powers and use them fo' a short time."

"And de people yo' absorb?" he asked and she glanced up in surprise at his tone. He didn't sound afraid or leery of her, he sounded more… curious.

"They get knocked out and humans tend ta wake up slower than mutants. So Mr. Wallace Richards could already be up, or he could wake up in a few days, a few weeks, a month, or… he might never wake up. Ah jus' don't know."

He nodded his head and stared at her thoughtfully. She ducked her head and glanced at the monitors from the corner of her eye. "How long have Ah been here?"

"Three days," the man said and she looked back at him in surprise.

"Ah was here that long?" she asked and he nodded. She closed her eyes and sighed," Look, thanks again for savin' me, but Ah should probably go. Ah'll pay ya back what Ah can…"

She trailed off as he pinned her with a stern look. "Now wait a minute…" he trailed off and a look of surprise flitted across his features," Yo' know, I jus' realized I don't even know yo' name."

"Rogue," she said stiffly," Everyone calls me Rogue."

"Enchante Rogue. Now as I was sayin' we ain't expecting anyt'ig in return, jus' dat yo' get healed up."

She carefully locked her gaze on the wall at the opposite side of the room," Look, the last time Ah let someone help me, it didn't turn out well. So if it's all the same ta ya…" she said and then paused as she realized that while he had her name, she didn't have his.

He seemed to realize this and took her bared hand in his gloved one. "Remy, Remy LeBeau, or Gambit if yo' prefer, at yo' service Rogue."

Her eyebrows raised as her mind immediately made several connections. "Remy LeBeau? As in the Prince of Thieves, second son of Jean-Luc the King of Thieves and leader of the Thieves Guild, Remy LeBeau?"

"De one and only," he said and chuckled as she rolled her eyes. "Ah mighta known," she sighed and flinched again as her body began to protest more and more.

His eyes took on a quiet, thoughtful look. "How're yo' feelin'?" he asked and swiped a wayward lock of white hair from her face with a gloved finger.

Her breath hitched at his proximity, and her body trembled with the pain and tension of keeping her body still as her anxiety level rose. He seemed to sense this as he quickly, yet gently, drew his hand away from her face.

"I'll have Dr. West give yo' some more pain meds, and den try an' get some rest. When yo' feelin' better, we'll talk some more."

She nodded her head and watched as he swept out of the room, as graceful and silent as she'd expect the Prince of Thieves to be. She leaned back, trying not to focus on the pain in her wrist and how much it hurt to breath. She studied the room around her with much more interest, and discovered to her surprise that the room was decorated more like an upscale hotel than a recovery room. The walls were painted in warm beige with abstract paintings hung in tasteful array, while heavy white and gold curtains hung between the beds, giving the impression of separate areas while keeping everything running cohesively.

"Good morning dear," a deep English-accented voice said cheerfully from the doorway.

She turned to see a short blonde haired man in a doctor's coat standing in the doorway. She wasn't quite sure why, but the first thing that came to mind was a basset hound staring at the world through mournful eyes. One of these days, she mused, she should really think about getting one they were absolutely adorable.

"Mornin'," she greeted, "What time is it?"

"About half past eleven, now come along. Just a quick once over and I'll have Rebecca or Sarah bring you something to eat."

He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and she fought not to flinch as he examined her, shining a light into her eyes and listening to her heart. Besides reminding herself that he had gloves on, she also had to repress memories of the last time someone wearing a lab coat had examined her. After all Dr. West was much nicer than they had ever been, and his manner was much more calming and gentlemanly.

"Well young lady, I must admit that for a girl as malnourished as you are, you're not in too bad of shape. But tell me, when was the last time you had a good hot meal?"

"Over a year ago," she said softly," Ah've just had a hard time this past year."

He smiled kindly and placed a comforting hand on her knee and she blinked in surprise. "Don't worry my girl; this has been an interesting year for all of us. By the way, what's your name child?"

She smiled. "Jus' call me Rogue."

"Very well then Rogue," he said and produced a prescription bottle from his pocket. He opened it and shook a couple pills into the palm of his hand, which he then gave to her with a glass of water he poured from her bedside water pitcher. "Take these," he ordered kindly," And I'll round you up some lunch. How's that sound?"

"Wonderful, thank ya," she said gratefully and gave him a small, but genuine smile.

"Excellent," he replied and with a warm smile he disappeared around the corner of the door, white coat swirling around him like a cape. She fought back a giggle as her mind conjured up the image of a basset hound galloping around the corner of the hall with a white curtain trailing out behind him.

Remy leaned against the balcony outside his father's study, cigarette dangling from his lips. Rogue, he smiled as he recalled the way she'd told him her name, like she was daring him to challenge it, was a puzzle to him and he found himself being genuinely interested in this little thief he'd brought home.

Her personality was tough and sarcastic, life on the streets having taken their toll on her mind and body. But underneath her prickly exterior his empathy picked up fear, loneliness, disbelief, and a longing so deep that it almost broke his heart. Once again he thanked Lady Luck that he'd been adopted by people who genuinely loved and cared for him, otherwise… he shuddered to think about it.

He heard his father join him and light up his own cigarette. "Lot on yo' mind fils?"

"Oui," he said and turned his red and black eyes to meet his father's brown ones. His father smirked and raised an eyebrow, pinning him with a curious yet knowing look.

"Yo' been talkin' to dat mutant girl," he commented," Find anythin' out about her?"

"Not much," he said and took a short drag on his cigarette, blowing out the smoke expertly as he ordered his thoughts," Her name's Rogue and her mutation is unique, de only one I've ever heard of. She can absorb de life force, memories and powers of another person. Other than dat, and de fact dat she's a good pickpocket, I got nothin'."

"Hmm…" Jean Luc mused, staring out over the bayou thoughtfully," She's a good pickpocket yo' say. Do ya t'ink she'd make a good thief to de Guild?"

"I reckon so, wit' de right training and given enough time. After all, due to her powers she's a natural thief."

"Well, once she gets ta feelin' better, be sure ta make her a formal offer. Can never have too many t'eives or too many mutants de way I see it."

"Merci papa," Remy chuckled as the side door to the balcony swept open.

Dr. West stepped out into the sun and joined them when his king beckoned him forward. "I daresay, for a girl from the streets she has the constitution of an ox and she seems to be recovering nicely. I left her in the company of Sarah, Rebecca, and a bowl of hot soup."

"Does seem ta help when yo' ain't feelin' good," Remy mused," Though I know it's all in yo' mind."

"Most certainly, but from what the young Rogue tells me this will be the first hot meal she's had in a year, apparently this has been a bad year for any non- Guild pickpockets."

"Dis year's been hard on everyone," Jean Luc said and snuffed out his cigarette," Poor fille, can't imagine how it'd be ta live on de streets with little or nothin' ta eat, and ta top dat off the streets aren't easy."

"And dat's why I'm glad yo' took me in papa," Remy remarked as the three men made their way back indoors," Otherwise I hate ta think where I'd be now."

His father smiled and clasped him on the shoulder, before turning to discuss something or other with Dr. West. He stuck around for a while, but when he realized that they were no longer discussing the enigma of a mutant femme with the white streaks in her hair; he wandered off back to his room.

He stepped into his room and shut the door softly, eyeing the interior with a soft smile on his face. Most people only saw Remy as Gambit, Prince of Thieves, or Le Diable Blanc; the wild mutant with the penchant for women, cigarettes, gambling, and liquor. He wouldn't lie to himself, he was all those things but that's not all he was.

His room looked more like something you'd see in a designer magazine. The walls were painted a deep red, while black lacquered furniture stood in a stark contrast to both them and the snow white covers on the bed.

He placed his duster on the back of a chair and lovingly fingered a small trophy he'd won at a Guild Youth poker competition when he'd been a child. His unique eyes swept over the collection of framed photographs of his family that dominated the dresser and any spot on his bookshelf that happened to be free of books.

Flopping down on his bed, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. Unsurprisingly, it wandered back to Rogue. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. What was it that was so attractive about this girl? Something told him, he'd have plenty of time to figure it out.