A/N: Here is my new story. It's a Knuckles and rouge thing and they aren't in high school. They are adults. Hope you enjoy.

Rouge

Jasmine and vanilla fill my nostrils with their aromas. Both so completely different but as one, they create an intoxicating, yet, heavenly affair. I never really was into vanilla but tried it for the benefit of the doubt. I heard it's flavor was creamy and its toxic was divine. Heard it was soft and sweet but rugged and trying. Turns out I like Vanilla and it's touch still lingers on my supple skin.

Jasmine, on the other hand, has always been a favorite of mine. It's sweet aroma cascades around me filling the room with its luxury. It's feel makes me tingle and it's presence makes me stir. I always thought it could never be mixed with something; that it was meant to stand alone. I always thought it was just meant for pleasure purposes and not for emotional uses. Just so happens I found a partner for Jasmine and it turned out to be the thing I once hated. Who knew two different worlds could collide and make such a heavenly concoction as a result. So now if someone tries to down my vanilla, I'll be its corner defending its hidden beauties.

XxXxXxXx

This water feels divine. It's warm and soft and massages every curve my blossomed body has to offer. I don't want to leave but I have a job to do. It's how I support myself and maintain my lively hood. I wish to be something that holds more class, but a bat girl like me wasn't made for the luxury of society. I was meant for the downgraded "dirty" side of society. The side that possesses everything from the addicts and hookers to the dealers to the bosses. I was made for that dirty life and I come to accept that. I just wish I stayed on Angel Island and kept up with my thieving; it was the only thing I was good at. But I had to grow a mother fucking heart and let those precious jewels stay with their guardian. That pompous enchanada Knuckles.

Oh how I wish I made a wiser choice and stole them when I had the chance. Now I'm stuck here living off shaking my ass for villains as one of them plots to destroy Sonic. Eggman is his name and he's one of my regular's. Funny how things turn out. I used to fight on the bad side never knowing who the mastermind behind the whole operation was, and now that I am neutral, I finally find out who the boss was. I can't begin on where to start on this guy. He's an utter disgrace. Not only can he not plot a decent plan that doesn't involve those stupid robots of his, but he actually thinks I am up here stripping to get his attention. Funny. The only man I'd stoop low to strip for is a mystery. He's symbolic and goes by codename. It'll eventually come to light but for now it'll stay under wraps. I just have to try and do one of the two things I have plotted in my head. One: forget about him. Two: Get him to notice me. Shouldn't be hard considering that I have breast the size of melons and a virgin asset.

"Ro, you in there?"

I wish she'd go home already. "Yes Avarice, what's wrong?"

"Your boss called for you. He's wondering if you're on your way to the club. Guest are waiting."

I swear that man annoys me. It's twenty females that work in the club and I'm the only one getting house calls? Now I have no choice but to end my bath short. "I'm about to get dress Avy. Just tell him I'll be there in an hour."

"Alright and umm…..Rouge?"

I huff loudly and reached for the bath stopper, trying to ignore the girl.

"Rouge?"

"YES!?" Unfortunately, I can't. Her voice is one of those impossible ones to ignore.

"I accidentally burnt the sandwiches. Mind making them for me."

I swear this girl acts more like a fucking child than a teenage young woman. I sometimes ask myself why I decided that rooming with this feline would be a good thing.

"Yes." I lie and step out my tub, careful not to slip on the marble tile, "Give me a second."

"Alright."

Foot steps begin to echo behind the door and I now know she is gone and probably headed to the kitchen to fix her mess before I get in there. Girl knows more than anybody how I am when I am angry.

Careful, I walk over to the towel rack and grab my fluffy yellow towel; draping it over my wet form as I begin to observe myself in my full figure mirror. As usual, I'm perfect. Not a flaw in sight. Perfect waist, perfect breast, perfect face, and perfect body. I'm sure to get his attention.

Just a prologue. Chapter one up soon. I don't own sonic or his affiliates and don't own Avarice. She's rocknrolls. I just own this plot and story.