AN: This is the conclusion to Ideology. I really appreciate everyone who has been reading and reviewing (yes, even the flamer, who might want to take a look at the comics before she calls my OTP "stupid"! Marvel didn't think so. g Ah, how this Magneto/Rogue shipper loved the Age of Apocolypse series!) However, be forwarned, if Magneto/Rogue is not your cup of tea you might not like this chaper. However, if you've read this far, aren't you at least a little curious? Come on, you know you are... g

Thank you all so much for reading. I do hope you've enjoyed the story. I do plan to write stories within this universe quite a bit (one of my main reasons for writing it) and shall post them here if they are rating-appropriate. All my fics are found on my fic Livejournal at http/community. I have a planned Gambit/Pyro in the works, for instance, that in no way can be posted here!

Finally, you may notice a bit of awkwardness on Rogue's behalf in this chapter. She's young, and relatively inexperienced, and I wanted to portray this as realistically as possible.

My thanks go to my beta, Ion, for all her incredible suggestions and support.

Now, enough of me, and onto the conclusion!

oooooooooooOOOOOoooooooo

Chapter 16

Rogue had a sinking suspicion that the conversation Magneto kept hinting they needed to have was imminent. She might have been fine with mayhem and destruction in the name of mutant liberation, but telling him she as attracted to him was far scarier than said mayhem.

It was just that it was getting rather difficult to hide it, especially since she was no longer afraid of him or holding a grudge about the incident at the Statue of Liberty. So she really had no reason for acting the way she did around him, and he was a smart man. If he hadn't figured it out yet, he would eventually.

Eventually came one day during training, when the two of them had sparred. She'd done rather well until he managed to slam her against the wall, her hands pinned above her head. She'd really, really meant to fight back, because Mystique had her practice getting out of this sort of situation about a hundred times, usually pressing her face to bare skin or doing a complicated maneuver involving a lot of twisting and kicking.

Rogue didn't fight back, though. She had remained completely passive, which was obviously not what he wanted. "Fight me," he snapped, pushing her harder against the wall again, which should have hurt. It did hurt. The noise she made, however, was not one of pain.

He'd let her go, his eyes narrowed. "I believe that's enough for today."

Rogue hadn't really been able to argue with him. She was mortified about what she'd just done, which was the equivalent of playing the helpless little female and that was so not her thing. There was absolutely no way Mystique was going to let her get away with anything but a thorough ass-kicking for that either, once she found out about it.

Which she did, and the only good thing about the ensuing workout was that Rogue was too busy trying to keep from being permanently injured to ruminate over what she'd done.

By the name Rogue left her training session, she was so sore all she could think about was a shower and bed. She suffered through dinner mostly in silence, too embarrassed to look at Magneto and she'd rather Mystique just forgot about her for while.

She felt a little better after she'd showered, and did a series of stretches in her bedroom until her muscles felt a bit less tight. Deciding it was probably a good idea to take something for the pain, she went in search of some aspirin. Unfortunately, her bottle was empty (training with Mystique meant taking a lot of pain killers before bed). Cursing, she realized she was going to have to go downstairs and find someone to see if they had any.

Once she was in the hallway, though, she came face-to-face with Magneto, obviously heading towards his room. He took one look at her aspirin bottle and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Going for some water, are we?"

"No," she said, still a little embarrassed. "I—I'm out of aspirin. I was gonna go see if anyone had any downstairs."

"I have some. Follow me. I believe it is time for you and I to have that talk, at any rate." He gestured for her to follow him. Nervously, Rogue complied, mentally cursing herself. You couldn't have just sucked it up and gone to bed, could you?

How was she going to handle this? I'm very sorry I'm attracted to you and don't know what to do about it. Oh, but this was going to be humiliating, she just knew it.
She dropped her head and followed him, rather as if she were walking to her execution.

He disappeared into his bathroom and returned with a glass of water and two aspirin. "Here."

Rogue took them, drained the glass of water, and then handed it back to him. "Thanks."

He placed the glass on his dresser. "We need to discuss this, don't you think?"

"Discuss what?" she tried, not looking at him. Maybe she could play dumb and he'd just take pity on her and let her leave. "My pain-killer habit?"

He stepped closer to her. "Let's be adults about this, shall we?"

So, playing dumb was out.

Oh, God. She closed her eyes. "Um, look, I'm sorry about today. I just…you make me…nervous." That wasn't really the word for it, but it would do.

"I thought you weren't afraid of me anymore?"

Her eyes were still closed. "I'm not," she muttered, expelling a breath.

"I see. Then why is it I make you nervous?"

Was he going to make her say it? "I…seem to be…oh, you know, don't you?" She opened her eyes, refusing to finish that sentence, staring intently at his boots. "You have to."

"Yes. Look at me, Marie."

Startled by his use of her first name, she did so. "I thought Marie was my human name."

"I think that perhaps I should have this conversation with Marie instead of Rogue," he said simply.

He was standing much too close to her. "I don't know how this happened," she began, feeling ridiculous. She wished she could sink through the floor and escape.

"Nor do I." His face remained inscrutable, but she thought she detected the faintest trace of humor in his words. If he laughed at her, she'd die.

"I wouldn't have ever said anything," she said truthfully. She was far too reserved to have ever muttered words about it if he hadn't have noticed.

"I know. That's why I did."

"So I guess I'll…" she chewed on her bottom lip. "I mean, is it…" She buried her face in her hands. This was worse than she'd imagined.

"Marie…"

She felt his hands catch hers and pull them away from her face. He looked down at her, not speaking, and moved his hands to rest on her waist. That gave her pause--if he was touching her, did that mean…

Oh. "So you're, um, not—horrified, then?" Rogue asked warily, holding herself very still.

He gave a sharp laugh at her words. "You don't give yourself enough credit, my dear."

Rogue's heart was beating so loud she was certain he'd be able to hear it. "I figured I was too…"

"Young?"

"That isn't what I was going to say, but yeah, that too," she said honestly, because there was no point in pretending that wasn't an issue.

He shrugged. "You're not a child. Have I ever treated you like one since you arrived?"

She shook her head, considering that. "No. I guess you haven't."

"What were you going to say, if not that?" One of his hands was still at her waist, but he brought the other up, fingers twining in the white of her hair.

"I'm too dangerous." She was intensely aware of his hand on her waist, even through the fabric of her clothes.

"I like dangerous," he murmured, fingers ghosting across her neck, just enough to make her shiver.

His hand dropped from her hair and returned to her waist, and he pulled her closer to him. She was terrified and excited, hardly unable to believe that this was happening, though she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She was still trying to wrap her brain around the idea that he was touching her, that apparently he was attracted to her, as well.

He leaned down, his mouth very close to her ear. "You're shaking. Am I scaring you?"

She nodded. "Yes." He was, but she liked it, which didn't make any sense but she couldn't think straight enough to figure it out.

"Shall I stop?" He wasn't even doing anything, not really, and yet she was finding it hard to draw enough breath to answer his question. "Do you wish to leave?"

"No…" Rogue shuddered, her hands coming up and resting lightly on his shoulders. She carefully pressed herself against him, and he sucked in a breath as she did so.

Scared that she'd done something wrong, she pulled back, searching his face anxiously. His cheekbones were flushed. "Did I—" she began, worried she'd hurt him.

He shook his head, pulling her back to him, less gentle this time. "No. You didn't hurt me."

"I will, though," she said seriously, trying to control her very erratic breathing. "I mean…that's what I do."

"I know," he murmured. "We'll work around it." His hands slid up her back, up and down, before he set her away from him.

She looked at him nervously—had he changed his mind?—but all he did was move towards his dresser and pick up a pair of black leather gloves, pulling them on slowly.

The sight of him doing that was frighteningly erotic, and it nearly undid her completely.

"Come here, Marie." He extended a hand towards her, and she realized that he was giving her a choice. If she wanted to, she could leave, and that would be it. He'd never mention it again, and he'd be Magneto instead of Erik, and she would fight for him but that would be the extent of their relationship.

She didn't want to leave, though. Rogue stepped forward, and slowly placed her hand in his, unresisting as he pulled her roughly towards him once more. She said not a word as he drew her to the bed, and she was afraid, but she was smiling.

ooooooooOOOOooooooo

Rogue thought maybe she'd feel different, somehow, in the morning. She'd spent several years convinced intimacy was something that she'd just have to miss out on, so it was nice to know she was wrong.

It was tricky, but it could be done. That was good to know, at least.

However, she was certain she hadn't been any good at it. How could she? She'd not had a clue what to do, and had been so overwhelmed…

Was he going to send her back to her room and never mention it again?

She'd not slept much, too full of insecurities and too afraid she was going to hurt him to let herself relax enough to fall asleep.

He took one look at her in the morning and must have seen everything she was written on her face, because just as she was trying to figure out how to escape back to her room so she could worry about it, he stopped her with a gloved hand on her arm.

"You look terrified. Regrets?"

She shook her head, eyes wide. "N-no," she stammered, and that much was true. She didn't regret what they'd done—but she was certain he must.

"Then why are you looking at me as if I am going to toss you out the window?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't any good," she blurted out, then clasped her hand to her mouth in horror. She resisted the urge to hide back beneath the covers.

"Did I say you weren't?" he asked, smiling a bit.

"Well, no, but I didn't really—I mean, you did most of the—" Rogue gave up and pulled the pillow over her head. "Please forget I just said that."

He snorted. "Marie, kindly take the pillow off your face if you're going to speak to me."

She did so, though reluctantly, desperately wishing she hadn't said anything.

"There. Now, is that the reason you look like you hardly had any sleep? Have you been worrying all night about that?"

The thread of amusement in his voice annoyed her. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Maybe. Also, you know, it is very weird to sleep in the same bed with someone else when I'm scared that if I roll over they'll die," she said bluntly.

He shrugged. "I don't think that will happen. We're both of us wearing quite a bit of clothing." Which was true; she'd slept in pajama pants, a long-sleeved t-shirt, gloves, and socks. "If you stay over there, the chances you will significantly injure me are slight."

"Well, gee, Erik, glad you thought of that," she said sarcastically, and he laughed.

"Marie, it was very good, and you'll get better at it. Does that help ease your mind?"

"So that means I was awful—" she stopped herself, perking up as she realized what he'd just said. "You want to do it again?"

He rolled his eyes and got out of bed. "I'm not in the habit of having one-night stands. You should get up before we're both late to breakfast."

"What happens when everyone finds out?" she asked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Because of course they would.

"Does that bother you?"

She shook her head. "No. Guess not." With that, she threw back the covers and stood up, suddenly shy. "I guess I'll go shower. Um…" What the hell did she do /i now /i ? This was all brand-new territory and she was navigating along without a map.

He made an exasperated sort of sound and came over to her, then tugged her to him. "Come along. I have a much nicer shower than you do."

"Isn't that sort of like tempting fate?" she asked him, though she leaned in to his embrace as she found his touch reassuring. His hands rubbed gently at her back, and she relaxed a little.

He snorted, and then gave her a little push towards the bathroom. "Yes. Which is why you're going first."

"Oh." She went into the bathroom and started the water running in the shower. He wasn't lying. It was a lot nicer than hers.

Fin!