He straddled the bar stool beside her, gaze fixed firmly on the beer that had been just placed before him.

Silence reigned down in the dimly lit, scarcely inhabited ram shackle of a bar that sheltered the two past friends? lovers? … past a lot of things. The heavy drone of the pounding rain was the only true sign of life within their forlorn surrounds.

He subtly observed the classic hourglass silhouette enhanced by the taut black leather that encompassed long slender legs, and a white top that barely contained her ample bosom. Long auburn curls cascaded over shoulders and hid away emerald eyes that every now and again would lock with the bartenders who never failed to smile in an unsublty flirtatious way before refreshing her drink and lingering until she would smile slightly and nod and he would back away dejected, gaze lingering before being drawn away by another patron.

Her index finger of her left hand idly circled the rim of the bottle for a while, neither openly acknowledging the other. Patience however, was not a virtue well held by the fire starter, causing him to turn and brush back the offending curls that shielded her, causing a little amusement to the southern belle whose lips quirked before her head tilted to her left, emerald eyes trailing up the well muscled and toned figure before locking with dancing flames. Her slender hand rose to hold his that remained cupping her face, fingers interlocking.

'Yah late Johnny'

Pyro smirked as their now linked hands settled upon her thigh.

'You specified a place Roguey, not a time'

Rogue pouted, sliding gracefully from her stool to stand between his legs, the heat in the room gradually rising.

'Ah need ah favour'

John laughed heartily in response, hands coming to rest on her hips, fingers splayed as he pulled her a little closer, foreheads resting lightly against one and other.

'Don't you always'

Two years ago

She turned at the door, surveying the place she had come to call home one last time. A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill and stain her cheeks.

FLASHBACK

She stared, frozen to the spot as gentle whispers and hands sought to turn her from the sight. They had come to this club for a little bit of fun, some dancing, some downtime from their hectic lives as students and Xmen. And yet it was at this moment, when the young girl had finally chosen to let loose a little that her world had come crashing down.

Kitty made to move towards the offending sight but was stopped by a hand grasping her arm.

'Don't', Rogues voice was raspy and silent as she let go and turned to Kurt, 'Take me home' Her brother could only nod and envelop her in his arms as they made their way to a quiet corner where they could leave without attracting any attention.

'You running again kid?'

Rogue could barely make out his figure in the dark, the only indication of his presence being the faint glow of the cigar and the residing smoke.

She hauled her bag into her old deep red convertible before turning to face the man she considered her greatest friend and confidant.

Her lips quirked in an unassured fashion, 'Its time Logan, please…'

But she didn't get a chance to finish as he advanced forward and wrapped his arms passively around her, is head resting atop of hers.

'If this is about him … what happened … Marie …'

She pulled away, needing the distance to regain her composure.

Her downward eyes lifted to meet his softened feral ones.

'I know he loves me ... I know he wants to be with me, but it was a dream'

'Kid'

Her voice rose as she choked back a sob 'I can't be here and watch him fall in love with someone else, I'm not strong enough'

Logan grasped her arms 'He loves you, he would never …'

'But he will' she shook his arms off, 'He lives for touch, he needs it' Rogue wiped the tears from her cheeks 'He's going to want more Logan, this, what we have isn't going to be enough. Don't forget I've got him…' she tapped her head 'up here'

'That's not him darlin'

'But it is, it's a part of him, and that part of him tells me he wants a family, a life, he wants to feel like he fits somewhere … I can't give him that'

Logan stood still, his hands twitching at his sides, unable to say anything, his gaze fixed on the floor, 'Where are you going'

'Who knows'

Closing the gap, he removed his tags from his neck and placed them silently around hers, hand resting on her shoulder before pulling her in for a hug.

They stayed like that for a minute, both relishing the closeness, the two loners that had come together and formed an unbreakable bond.

'You keep in touch kid, or I swear I'll hunt you down'

She chuckled a little at his response and moved towards the driver's side, fingers resting hesitantly on the handle for a moment, before pushing down and opening the door.

Logan did nothing as her car pulled out and began moving down the endless drive way. Now anyone that knew the great wolverine would know that he may be capable of feeling, but he never expresses it, however it did not come as a shock to him when a single tear rolled down the side of his face.

Rogue reached the gateway to Xavier's, she had entered a shy and unloved girl, now she was leaving as a broken hearted woman. She had never believed in love at first sight, but with Remy, there had always been an innate connection, as if fate had always intended them to be together. She was trying to be strong for them both, trying to save his future.

She closed her eyes, silently reliving all the memories. She knew this wasn't the end. She would be back, she had a feeling.

When the occupants of the mansion awoke the nest morning, there was no cheerful banter, no jokey remarks or whitey retorts, only one singular emotion was buzzing around this mutant home, loss.

Kitty broke down crying against the door, being consoled by Jubilee and Jean. Scott sat staring out into the danger room where a restless Wolverine was engaged in an apocalyptic battle. Kurt sat on the roof top, staring out over the grounds, the weather goddess silently sat beside him. Professor Xavier was in his study, his hands pressed to his temples attempting to sooth the waves of pain that engulfed the hallways. And Remy LeBeau, Remy LeBeau sat on the edge of his bed, a letter dropping from his hands and his eyelids slowly closed, ignoring the attempted seductive calls of whatever her name was that he had drunkenly picked up last night.

What had he done.