Disclaimer: Don't own

This was just a fun little tidbitI came up with one day. I couldn't resist posting it. Rogue power trips are always fun.

Rogue sat on her windowsill looking out the white powder sprinkling the already coated ground. A photographer would have cried at his luck to have such a view. However Rogue merely sighed. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the beauty and peace that a midwinter snowfall brought, it was more along the lines it had bad timing. It was only three weeks ago that Rouge got control over her powers. She could touch, hug, go without gloves, or whatever. It was two and a half weeks ago that the series of blizzards came in. At any other time, Rogue would have given the world for such an event. School was canceled, and the students, sick of being trapped inside, took their energy and hyper activity to the snow. So poor Rogue was stuck in the quiet mansion to relax and do what she pleased for large amounts of time. How tragic. But it wasn't any other time, it was now. Rogue had control over her powers, simotanously stuck inside. To go outside called for long sleeves, gloves, hat etc. Someone somewhere was laughing their ass off at her.

She sighed again and caught sight of her calendar hanging on the wall. It read December. It was Sunday, February, 6 today. Deciding she had nothing better to do she went and changed the month. She glanced over the empty boxes, almost sorry that she bothered. That was until she saw that Ash Wednesday was this week. As an atheist the average person would assume that this would mean nothing to her. However as a southerner, Ash Wednesday translated to Mardi Gras. A smile formed on her face. It fell quickly though as she realized that she would never be allowed to go. Then again, she was 18. No one could tell her what to do. It wouldn't be colder than 40 in New Orleans, even midwinter. The high could get up to 70. She had to go, it was as simple as that. Besides she had to make up for her last trip to the Big Easy. Nearly getting knocked off in a guild fight was not quite as fun as it sounded. Nope, she was going to do it right this time. Not even caring what the rest of the institute would say, she packed up a bag.

"But how are you going to get there?" Jean asked.

"Train"

"Blizzards," Scott oh so usefully reminded her.

"Aw Scott is that the white stuff falling outside? Thanks sugah," she replied in a sweet tone. Scott frowned deeply, making Rogue smile.

"Rogue," the professor started gently, "we are just concerned that is all. I understand your need for a vacation. Perhaps we could arrange some sort vacation and fly there on the Black Bird."

Rogue gave him a blank look.

"It was worth a shot," he conceded.

Rogue smiled and stated, "don't worry, Logan will drive me out to the station tonight after they plow the snow."

A few hours later Logan was letting her off at the station. "If you run into any trouble-"

"I know"

"Just out of curiosity…is there any specific reason you are headed to Mardi Gras? You know, specific things to see?"

"Logan, subtlety is not your strong suit."

"You going to see Gambit?"

"God no." He didn't look convinced.

"Logan, if I wanted to spend my vacation with a mutant loser I would head over to the brotherhood house."

"Okay. Just remember that he is bad news. I don't want him to get the edge on you."

"I can handle myself."

Rogue couldn't hold back a laugh as she sat down in a seat. Passenger cars sure beat the heck out of being tied up on crates.

When she arrived in the city it was early Monday morning. She checked into a hotel and spent the day site- seeing. She slept in late the next morning, choosing to hang out in the hotel for most of the day. By nightfall however, she was roaming Bourbon Street. Randomly acquiring alcohol, Rogue was at the very least tipsy by 11:00. It was funny how bartenders forgot to card well dressed young women. Well dressed in this case was a short leather skirt, knee-high buckled boots, and a cut off Harley Davidson shirt with the logo on the back and the phrase, "I Ride Hard" on the front. Rogue wasn't about to party halfway tonight.

For hours she lost herself in the crowd. Rogue danced and grabbed beads when the time called for it. Around 2:30 am she slipped into a bar to unwind. She sat at the bar and asked for a Southern Comfort. As she sat with her drink she surveyed the area. She had chosen a place that was a little bit outside of the main bustle so it wasn't too crowed. In fact older men, biker more than business, took up most of the space. There were a couple of women as well, but she was by far the youngest. For this reason she received a few stares, but a returning death glare kept her isolated. In all honesty they were probably trying to get their alcohol fill while avoiding the annoying tourists. She ordered one more drink as a tall man in a trench coat sat a couple seats down from here. She tried to get a look at his face, but he didn't so much as glance over at her. Finally she just gave up and went back to people watching towards the other end of the bar. There just weren't enough specimens in his direction. She watched the empty pool table for a movement, half considering just playing a bit, but realized it wouldn't be much fun just by herself. Instead she pulled out some cash to pay for her drink, but the Bartender refused it. At the sight of her questioning gaze he nodded towards the guy in the trench coat stating that he paid for it. Needless to say, this piqued Rogue's curiosity. She sauntered over and sat in the stool beside him asking, "Well do I get to even know the name of the generous gentlemen?"

He turned towards her and sunglasses prevented instantaneous visual recognition. However the man could look like a squid and she would still know him by his voice, "Well cherè, I do believe you already know dat. However if you need reminding, da name is Remy."

"What happened to Gambit," she asked, quickly recovering from her shock.

"Gambit be for business cherè, and dis is most certainly not business."

"Indeed, this is not business. This is not anything at all," she stated handing him the money for the drink. He took it, but before she made it two steps towards the door, his arms were around her waist pulling her back and twisting back to face him. He used one hand to hold her against him and the other to slip the money straight back into her pocket.

"Non, Rogue," He said softly, "dis one is on me."

"Whatever," she replied, pulling out of his arms and heading towards the door.

"Are you really leaving so soon? The night is young. Come on cherè; stop being so shy for once. It just doesn't fit you. How about a game of pool? I saw you eying the table earlier."

She considered for a moment. Truth be told she really didn't have anywhere else to be. What could it hurt? Who knows, she could have a little fun.

Two hours later she was having a bit more than a little fun. They were currently on their fifth game, going for the tiebreaker. Although usually in good form, the pair had drunk a little too much to be at top form. Stupid mistakes had led to the two versus two tie. A fifth game was therefore necessary. At the moment they were, ironically enough, tied. Remy went to aim a shot but then stood up as if pondering something.

"You gonna take a shot sugah, or hope for the balls to take care of themselves?"

"Patience is a virtue cherè, I was just thinking- how about we put a little wager on this little game?"

"You asking meh to bet against a guy who calls himself Gambit? I don't think so."

"Oh cherè, I never took you as a chicken. But it seems-"

"Chicken, swamp boy? I ain't no chicken. What's your wager?" Gambit pulled out five $100 bills and set them down on the corner.

"Forget it, bayou boy, I don't have that much cash on me. No wager."

"Don't fret petite, you've got other things to bet."

"Like what?" Remy started gliding towards her. He suddenly ran a hand down her one of her scripted hair pieces stating in a low voice, "How about this? You win, you get the money in this pile." At this he pulled out what looked to be at least five more $100 dollar bills. In the same low voice he continued into her ear, "If I win, you come home with me. Deal?"

Rogue's first instinct was to scream 'Hell no" but common sense is the first thing you lose to alcohol. Instead she pondered the situation for a moment before saying in a low breath voice, "Sure sugah, sounds good to me." She expected to win. She was just fooling around for the other games, now she wanted to be a thousand dollars richer. Remy took his shot.

About twenty minutes later she watched him sink the eight ball with dread. That didn't fit the plan. She was supposed to win. He had been holding back. He tricked her. He tricked her again.

With a smirk he put their cues back and said, "looks like you are coming with me cherè." Not wanting to break her word she followed. Okay she followed for more reasons for that. The way he looked in tight shirt, the way he gracefully bent over the pool table, the way he looked at her and touched her may have been small factors. Minuscule really. The main issue here was keeping her word. Therefore she soon found herself speeding down the emptying streets towards god knows where. While the wind whipped her face, she got an idea.

When they got in the apartment, Remy offered her some water, which she accepted gratefully. They sat down on his couch for a silent moment before he asked, "Forgive my curiosity cherè, but where is the rest of your 'family'?"

"New York, duh"

"Do they know you are here?"

"No, I can't say they would approve of me being in your apartment."

"Not what I meant."

"I know," Rogue said with a smile, "No offense Remy, but you talk too much."

"My apologies cherè, do you by chance have an idea as to how to remedy the situation?"

"Funny you should ask, Cajun, I've got lots." Inhibitions tossed aside, she pushed her lips on his without fear.

Remy overcame any shock he may have had immediately to return the favor. Any stops for air were quick and barely noticeable. Remy gently pushed her down onto the couch. His tongue slipped through her lips, confidently exploring her mouth. Rogue had slightly underestimated the situation. It was a bit harder than she had realized to keep her head. She managed however, once she learned that the trick was to let her self be drawn in a little. Complete apathy was out of the question. Besides it would have been boring. This was about fun.

Rogue let out small groan as Gambit trailed his lips down her neck, nipping her on the base of her neck. She lost herself in the feel of his soft hair and muscular back against her hands. His hands on the other hand found residence on her hips. A couple of minutes later he had slide down her body, kissing her stomach as his deft fingers started to lift the bottom. Rogue really didn't want to stop him, but she had to if anything was to be accomplished.

"Hey shugah, don't you think we should take this elsewhere? Do you by chance own a bed?"

He smirked in reply, slowly sliding down her body off the couch, his hands not leaving her skin as he traveled. Before she could see it coming, he picked her up as if she were no more than a feather and brought her to a dark bedroom that was down a hallway. He looked to finish his initial task of undressing her as soon as they both were lying in the middle but Rogue stopped him. "You first sugah," she said, saturating her voice with her southern accent.

"I usually like to take control cherè, if you don't mind."

"I do mind," she replied and took to straddling his waist. She ran her hands up his chest, taking the shirt with her, his eyes closing at the feel of her fingers. When she reached the top, he had no choice but to remove it. She gave him a quick chaste kiss on the lips before creating a trail down the front of his body. She stuck her tongue in his belly button as she started to unbuckle his pants. He twitched beneath her. This was all too easy. He continued to shiver under her touch as ran her hands down his hips, mimicking her previous actions with the shirt. This time however she had to slide with the pants to remove them. All the more fun, she realized as now she got to slide back up his very naked body. Their lips found each other's again Remy seemed keen to regain control now that he was naked under a fully clothed girl. He flipped her over and started to lift the hem of her shirt again as his mouth worked hers. His body sudden tensed up and he collapsed on top of her. She slid out with minimal effort. She placed a hand to his back and started absorbing him again. She wanted to make absolutely sure that he didn't wake before she was done. Confident in her actions, she backed up and flipped him over. Jumping off the bed she dragged him to the middle of it and started to dig through drawers. Long sleeve shirts would do. How wonderful that Gambit had a four-poster bed. Rogue stepped back to admire her work. The boy was good looking. What a shame.

But something was missing. This wasn't good enough. Not that the naked Cajun playboy tied spread eagle on his own bed was bad, but something else was needed. It was time to delve. It suddenly came to her… Cards! Of course! What would revenge on Gambit be without cards? But what would she do with cards? Cover him with them? Lame really. She started going through some of the recent memories in her mind. Suddenly she came across a vision of Remy yelling at a younger boy because he bent his cards. They didn't fly right when they were bent, even just a little. Laughing hysterically, she found every pack of cards that he owned and bent every card in half. All of them ended up dumped on his unconscious body. Now it was perfect. Using a camera that she found in a nightstand drawer (she really didn't want to know what it was used for) she snapped a few pictures and took the camera with her.

As she went to leave the apartment, she spotted his trench coat hanging by the door. She had forgotten to get the cards out of there. She reached for them, but then paused. It would be much easier to just take them with her. How would she carry them? She might as well bring the whole coat. That was mean though, it left him completely defenseless.

She reached into an inside pocket and pulled out his bo staff. She set it on the kitchen table and walked out the door. Now she didn't feel bad.

It was unfortunate for Gambit that she passed his bike on the way out. It was a gorgeous peace of machinery, painted flames gleaming in the moonlight.

It took only a second for Rogue to decide, "in for a penny, in for a pound."

"Logan is never going to stop laughing at this," she thought, riding off down the street.

A/N

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