Hey, there, dear readers! I know I'm doing some more hetero fic (I am acting so strange lately) but I just love Remy/Anna Marie. Don't you? Of course you do.

So I kind of got inspiration for this from another ROMY fic I was reading, but I hope it's quite different. Being as I haven't finished that fic, I can't say for certain. No intentions to copy, here.

And so we begin! Enjoy the ROMY goodness!

-Forbala-

CHAPTER ONE: PLANS

We must bring her in.

Magneto's voice resonated within Gambit's head.

We must take her.

Gambit grit his teeth in anger.

We must have Rogue.

X

Gambit had been sneaking back into the Acolytes' headquarters when he'd heard Magneto giving a mission to Mystique, one she seemed all too happy to take.

Magneto wanted Rogue on his team. She was powerful and extraordinarily useful. It was no wonder he wanted her. He had charged Mystique with recruiting her, in any way necessary.

Gambit had left almost immediately. He had been returning to rejoin the Acolytes, but his feelings toward Rogue far outweighed any loyalty he felt to Magneto.

He would have to save Rogue, somehow. Failure wasn't an option.

X

Rogue was eating dinner with the rest of the teenaged mutants, laughing and talking and teasing each other. It was one of her rare good—not tolerable, but actually good—days, and she was enjoying it. She teased her elf brother and got playful nudges in return, along with retorts in a cute English-German mix.

"Scheisse, Rogue, leave my tail alone!" he whined, poking her in the face with said tail.

"Not a chance, fuzzball," she said, grabbing it with a gloved hand and putting it in Kurt's face.

After dinner wound down and the students did their clean-up duties, Rogue retired to her room for a pleasant shower, and then to finish her homework and get to bed early. She was exhausted from the Danger Room session earlier.

She turned on the water in the bathroom and pulled her clothes off, tossing them in the hamper. When she got in, the stream of hot water relaxed her and put her at ease. After she had washed, her mind turned to other things. She repositioned the showerhead, lie down in the tub, and let the pounding water help her reach orgasm. She couldn't keep a little mewl or two from escaping her lips as she fell further and further into ecstasy. Nothing was better for relaxation than sexual release. And just as she was reaching her peak, she saw Gambit's face in her mind. It shocked her, but oddly enough made her orgasm that much more intense.

As she climbed down off the high, she smoothed her hair down and got out of the shower. Wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping down behind her, she opened to door to her bedroom.

And saw Remy LeBeau lounging on her bed.

"Well, bonsior, chere," he said, sitting up a little bit straighter. His eyes traced her up and down then, with obvious effort, he pinned them to her face. "How was your shower?"

"Gambit!" she gasped, trying to hide herself, but the small towel did very little in that department.

"What were those li'l sounds I heard? Sounded like you was havin' fun," he teased. He'd obviously heard the little sounds she had let slip and she blushed furiously.

"What're you doin' here?" she demanded, ignoring the comment. She found her robe and pulled it on over the towel, her back to the thief.

"Jus' come to see you, chere."

"Bull hockey," she said, turning back to him, slightly more covered.

He stood up off the bed and went to her. She took a step back nervously, but he advanced still. He was only a foot away when he stopped. "I need to talk t' y', Rogue," he said, suddenly serious.

She blinked in confusion, then said, "Well, d'you think I could git dressed first?"

"Mm, oui. I'll wait in here till y' done." He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Rogue dressed in autopilot in dark jeans and a fitted, long-sleeved t-shirt. Why was Gambit there, for real? Why had he gone so serious all of a sudden? Why had she seen his face in her fantasy? And why her heart been fluttering when he'd seen her, wet and barely covered?

Embarrassment, she decided, was the answer to that last question, and anger.

When she was ready, she let Gambit back into the room. "Remy's a bit sad about de costume change, chere, but dat shirt is nice, too," he said, examining the way the soft cotton clung to her curves, then leaning against her desk.

"What's this all about, Swamp Rat?" she asked, arms crossed nervously and defiantly.

He sobered up instantly. "Rogue, you're in danger. Magneto wants you for de Acolytes and he's sent Mystique to fetch y'. I overheard dem talkin' 'bout it. We need t' get y' out o' here. It's de only way you'll be safe, chere."

Rogue was shocked, but quickly recovered. "Why do they want me?"

"You're powerful, Rogue. If Magneto had you on his side, he could have the powers o' any mutant he wanted."

She nodded. "Okay, fine, but why should I believe you? You're on his side. For all I know, you're just gonna take me right to 'im."

"Non, Remy would never trick y'. Absorb my thoughts 'n see, chere. Remy be tellin' de truth." He lifted her gloved hand in his and brought it to his face, much like he'd done when he'd kidnapped her in that train car. And, just like then, she pulled her hand away. She was afraid to see what was in his head. She had enough voices and personalities to deal with; she didn't need to add the obnoxious, flirty Cajun to that mix.

"No, fine, I believe you. But what're we gonna do?"

"I t'ink we should run, hide for a while. Y' know he's powerful, and I don' wan' 'im t' find y', chere. We need to disappear."

"And if anyone's good at disappearin', it's you, ain't it?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Oui. So pack a bag 'n allons-y."

"Gambit, I'm not leaving."

"Chere, I really t'ink we should go." He went to her dresser and began to pull out clothes: jeans, sweaters (examining each, holding it up to Rogue, and no doubt picturing her in it), and socks. When he got to her underwear, she darted over and slammed the drawer shut.

"Keep away from there, pervert!" she reprimanded, blushing.

"But, chere, Remy wanted to see what sorts of unmentionables y' wear," he teased, smirking. She swatted him away from the dresser and took her clothes from his hands, tossing them on the bed.

"Gambit, why're you in such a rush? Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"Well, y' see, dere's one more t'ing Remy heard."

"And that would be?"

"Mystique is comin' for y' t'night. We only have unes hores, maybe minutes. So pack a bag and let's get out o' here before madame bleu arrives."

So she was on her way, or so Gambit said. The big question was: Did Rogue trust Gambit? He had kidnapped her once before, and while he seemed to have had sincere concern for her, he had used her too. Could she trust him to keep her safe and not use her for his own ends? Rogue wasn't sure whether she trusted him, wasn't sure she wanted to leave her family to go chasing some guy.

Rogue looked into he red eyes and saw sincerity there and honest-to-goodness concern.

Rogue kicked it into gear. She dumped her school things from her backpack onto the bed and shoved in the clothes Gambit had picked out. Then she went to the dresser and grabbed handfuls of underwear, then to the bathroom for her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and hair ties. She grabbed a few extra pairs of gloves. Looking around her room, she tried to think if she'd forgotten anything.

"We good, chere?" Gambit asked, coming up to her.

"Just one more thing." She grabbed her school notebook and a pen and wrote a note. Placing it on her pillow, she went to the window, which was still open from Gambit's entrance. "Okay, let's go."

When Logan came later that night to say goodnight to her, he found the note on Rogue's bed and growled loud enough for most of the mansion to hear.

Logan—

I'm leaving. Don't worry about me. I'll come back when I can. I'm sorry.

Rogue