The night was warm. Warmer than it had been in the last two weeks. A quiet, soft breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the Institute. High above in a sky colored ebony, little pinpoints of lights danced around a large glowing moon. Every so often there was the hoot from a lone owl as it hunted for its dinner. There was a calmness, a tranquility that never grew boring. It had been nearly a month since Apocalypse had been defeated and buried beneath the mountain in Egypt. Nearly a month since both the Brotherhood and Magneto's lackeys had left the Institute and returned to their own homes. That was where most of the quiet stemmed from.
New mutants had come and were settling in nicely, at least for now. Problems rarely show themselves right off the bat.
That's what Rogue was thinking as she stood outside on the little balcony to the room she shared with Kitty. Give the new ones a little time and there'll be bickering soon enough. The breeze blew over her skin and pushed her hair back from her face; she sighed. She had always enjoyed the nighttime, ever since she could remember. She appreciated it even more since coming north. Everything slowed down once the sun set and sometimes, if the wind blew strong enough, she could almost pretend she was back home in Mississippi. Almost. The scent wasn't quite the same, but she was getting used to it.
Below her the sound of muffled voices drifted up and, looking down, she watched Scott and Jean as they wandered off together, their hands intertwined. If they hadn't been before, the two were now officially a couple. Funny how nearly having your life and someone you care desperately about nearly stripped away makes you all the more willingly to hold on. Along a similar line, Kurt had gone off to meet Amanda, having a new found determination to win over her parents. At least three members of their group were moderately happy.
Kitty was miserable and Rogue was beginning to become worried about the younger girl. Just now she was inside, lying on her bed, her back to the balcony door. It had taken her three days to recover from the poison in Angel's wing. When she had emerged from the hospital wing and found that everyone had left, she had sunken into her current state of depression. Rogue had a pretty good idea why. You had to have been blind not to notice that she had Peter had gotten quite close during the whole past ordeal. As far as Rogue knew, there had been no word from him since he had left. And she should know; she hadn't heard anything from Gambit either. Not since the kiss that should never had been possible.
She had dreams about it, about him. Always hazy and comforting but when she woke up there was a kind of tugging emptiness inside her. It left her feeling more irritated than usual and as a result, people had gone out of their way to avoid her of late. Stupid swamp rat, she thought to herself angrily, because it was the easier emotion to deal with. Ah shoulda cleaned his clock when Ah first thought of it.
The breeze kicked up again and this time it brought the sweet scent of jasmine to her nose. It brought back to her mind the little white house that she had grown up in, with its hanging baskets out on the front porch. She took a deep breath of it in and frowned. As far as she knew, there wasn't any jasmine planted on the grounds. Slowly she straightened and turned, having no idea of what she would find. Her heart leapt up into her throat when she saw who was standing behind her, his arms full of the lavender colored flower.
"Cherie. Where y'at?"
She said nothing, only stared at him with her green eyes unreadable. His charming grin remained in place and he held out the flowers to her.
"Gambit saw dese and thought de might remind you of home."
When she still failed to respond and made no move to accept the flowers, his smile faltered a bit. His stomach pitched slightly and his palms sweated with nerves, a first for him. It had been a month since he had seen her; first there had been recovery time and then he had simply put off coming for one reason or another. On the way over he had convinced himself that she would forgive him for it. After all, he was Remy LeBeau, not Scott Summers. Women swooned over him. But now, standing just a few feet away from her, seeing her look at him the way she was, he wasn't nearly as sure of himself. In fact, if she didn't say something soon, he was entertaining the thought of throwing himself onto his knees and begging.
"Ah, cherie . . . Gambit . . . he . . . well, there was. . ." he began to fumble as the minutes ticked by and the silence remained. He trailed off and stared back at her, not sure if there was anything he could say that would change whatever opinion she now held of him. He didn't know that there was nothing to say because there was no need to change it.
Silently she walked over to him and lifted a bare hand. For a moment he thought she was going to slap him and he figured he deserved it. But she surprised him. Instead she brought it close to his cheek, as if she wanted to lay it on his face. He could see the struggle on her face though and her fingers trembled as she fought an internal struggle. She wanted to touch him, but was horribly afraid to discover that the kiss had merely been a fluke. That she wouldn't be able to make contact without draining him. Apparently it was a battle she lost for she dropped her eyes away from his and her hand began to lower.
He caught it with his and her eyes came back up, surprise clear in them. Without hesitation, for he could sense that was important, he lifted her hand to his face and pressed it against his skin firmly. They both stared at each other, each holding their breath and waiting for it to happen.
But nothing did. With a kind of wonderment, Rogue ran her fingers along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that he always seemed to have. While his eyes burned down at her, she traced the shape of his face. Her hand slipped behind his head and pulled him down closer to her. Just before their lips met, they took identical little breaths and then pressed their mouths together. Their first kiss had been a brief taste; the second a weary and surprised occurrence. This kiss was something completely different. Not shy or hesitant, or filled with concern over how long it could last. Now there was desire and heart and the powerful feeling that comes when you've been separated from someone you let steal a part of your heart.
It was a while before they got around to talking.
When they finally did, Rogue was sitting on the balcony, her lap full of jasmine and Remy sat beside her, one leg dangling over the edge and the fingers of his right hand brushing through her hair. He felt a little drunk and couldn't seem to break contact with her. Suddenly she reached up and took his hand, tangling their fingers together.
"Are you still with Magneto?" he heard her ask. He nodded.
"Yeah, cherie."
"Why? He's not all that much betta than Apocalypse." He felt himself bristle at the slight accusation in her voice.
"De world ain't jus' all black an' white cherie. Dere be a whole lotta shades of grey an' Magneto's one of 'em."
Rogue shrugged and looked off trying to tell herself it didn't matter. But she turned back a second later, troubled by the idea of him running errands for the man who was now again their enemy.
"You could stay here. Be an X-man. Ah know Storm said she'd vouch for ya," she pressed. Gambit smiled ruefully and shook his head; all his questions about the white haired woman still hadn't been answered. He'd get to it eventually.
"Gambit, an X-man? Me'be someday, cherie. But not now." He looked her directly in the eyes, hoping he might get her to understand, at least a little bit. "He got things to do first. Not good things, but things dat need to be taken care of." When she shifted away from him, he bit his lip and added, "Cherie got things to do too."
"Like what?"
He shrugged and ran a hand over her hair again, ignoring her attempt to bat his hand away. "Like finish high school. An' work on trustin' people enough to tell 'em her name."
She glared at him. "Ah don't know yer name, swamp rat, do I?"
Grinning, because he enjoyed it when she was annoyed, Gambit shook his head and they sat in silence again for a moment or two. Then he continued. "Gambit be back, cherie. Je promets. (I promise.)" When she didn't respond, he shrugged again and slipped over the edge of the balcony, falling into darkness. Rogue whipped her head around just in time to see him land with all the grace of large, sleek hunting cat. He turned around and moonlight fell over him, illuminating the wink and salute he gave her. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling.
"It's Remy, cherie. Remy LeBeau."
Then he took off silently into the night, his coat flapping behind him. As she watched him disappeared, Rogue wondered if he would be back. Then she shook her head and buried her face in her flowers.
He'd be back.
Sighing, she stood up and started inside, wondering how she was going to keep the flowers hidden from Kitty. That's when she noticed the folded slip of paper lying on the ground near the door. Bending down, she picked it up and saw that it had Kitty's name scrawled across it in handwriting she didn't recognize. Chances were Remy had dropped it, but it didn't look like the way she imagined he would write. Considering, she twirled the note between her fingers and pushed opened the balcony door. She had a fairly good idea who it was from and figured it was something her roommate would want to read.
Crouching up high in the boughs of a nearby tree, Lance Alvers waited for the door to slide shut before he made his way down to the ground. Then he started on the long walk back to the Brotherhood house.
*******
Lights. And if you would maestro, cue the music please.
My Friends Over You by New Found Glory