Heyo guys, sorry for being that person that never updates for awhile there. I've been having issues with classes and moving and this story deciding that we need to change things that I didn't know we were changing, and ugh. I know, excuses excuses, right? Anyway, we'll be switching POVs early on in this chapter on account of Remy being uncooperative with me and Rogue wanting to defend herself and the poor miserable Cajun. Anyway, happy reading!

"It jus' na' righ'. No way a filly 'ave Gambit asking ta come back," Remy muttered to himself. But he would. He knew that he would if she'd just talk to him. If he thought she might forgive him. He sent an innocent stone skittering off into the bushes. Normally he'd be the one calling the shots on who was staying and who was leaving, but somewhere along the way Rogue had changed him.

"Mon dieu, if tha fellas could be seein' me now," he thought. Any one of the boys in The Guild would bust a gut at the idea of Remy LeBeau the "King of Hearts" that dashing "Prince of Thieves" getting upset over a girl like this. His pride hurt, but not as much as the rapidly healing wounds that Logan had left him with, and not nearly as much as the venomous rejection he'd received from Rogue. So Gambit did the only thing he could think to do. He'd just have to wait it out and apologize when she was ready to listen. The only bad thing about that particular plan was that it would most likely force him to crash with the Brotherhood boys for however long it took her to calm down and stop being so made at him.

…

A steady knocking was coming from the other side of the room. It was most certainly someone in the hallway, and that someone certainly had little care for the sanctity of Rogue's weekend sleeping schedule. She cracked an eye open. The clock read 10:17 am. She groaned. Whoever it was would only be spared if they had absolutely zero idea that she was not a morning person. Giving to the fact that she was pretty sure that most of the city knew that she was not cut out for mornings she settled on the idea that said person that was still knocking on the door had a death wish, was an idiot, or both.

"Wha'd'ya wahnt?" She drawled heaving herself into something resembling a sitting position.

"Rogue, are you in zere?" Kurt sing-songed from the other side of the door. So it was an idiot. A well meaning loveable idiot who would only ever sort of annoy her in the worst case scenario of most circumstances. Most.

"Yeah, Ah'm in here," she said a more loudly untangling herself from her blankets and starting toward the door. "Blue boy yah are so lucky that Ah got ta bed early," she thought to herself. The door handle was cool as she twisted it open. There was her brother tittering by the door looking far too chipper for the both of them. The sooner she figured out what he wanted the sooner she could go back to bed. "What d'ya wahnt Kurt?" she asked in a tone bordering on desperate.

"Vell, I vas outside and zis vas zere for you," he said handing her a box and a glass vase full of flowers. With that he was gone in a puff of ever so foul smoke. At least he'd had the sense to leave instead of wanting to snoop.

Rogue shook her head allowing a smirk to play on her face. He really was a goofball. She pushed the door closed with her foot while eyeing the flowers and the package in her hand. She had a fair idea who they were from. She set the box down on the edge of her bed a pulled the note from the center of the flowers. The handwriting on the scrap of paper would have been enough to make an elementary school teacher reconsider the amount of time spent in penmanship classes, and while it was wholly illegible it bore no resemblance to the old flowing writing that seemed to embody every historical document that had ever been shoved in her face in a history class.

Chere,

Tell me when you're ready to talk.

I'll let you be.

There was no signature, and there didn't have to be. She nearly threw the vase across the room. It would serve him right for breaking the vase that had housed the last bouquet he'd sent her when he broke in. Instead she took a deep breath and set the vase down on her dresser. After the last vase and the broken glass from her old picture frame she was fed up with broken glass. As it was she was still finding slivers with her feet in the mornings. It was just like him to try to play sweet after he messed up. She wondered how many other girls he'd done this to before her.

Rogue turned back toward her bed completely unconvinced that she would be able to sleep again when her eyes settled on the box she'd set down only minutes earlier. She'd forgotten about it. For awhile she stared at it like it might sprout legs and run around the room making weird little troll sounds. After the thought passed she weighed whether or not she should even open the thing up. Couldn't he just let her stay mad at him? With two quick steps she found herself perched on the edge of her bed beside it. If the box could have seen the look she was giving it she was pretty sure that it would start apologizing. She imagined the little boxy things it might say and caught herself.

"Whoa there. That's plenty a' crazy for taday," she muttered picking it up. The box was light for its size and she could feel at least one something shift inside. She sighed. "The things Ah do for that Cajun," she thought pulling off the pieces of scotch tape securing the lid. A king of hearts lay face up with small note that said, "He's lost his queen too." That card, at least, was unexpected. Any time he'd brought up cards or played with them around her she always somehow ended up with the queen. But the thing that really caught her attention in the box was a necklace of Mardi Gras beads. She smiled in spite of herself at the memory. Sure, they weren't always fighting, and when he wanted to be he could be downright charming. She opened her nightstand and put the recently homeless picture of the day they'd all gone skiing into the box before shutting the lid and setting the box and its contents into the drawer. She sat in bed awake, but unwilling to go down and deal with the only barely controlled chaos of Xavier's School. Instead she stared at the roses on her dresser until the morning sun turned its focus to other part of her room.

By the time she finally left her room the day was well on its way to one in the afternoon. She took a quick shower, and after hearing nothing but chatter even under the spray she decided that a walk would be a better plan than staying inside all day. She wasn't especially keen on dealing with the mess that would no doubt be taking up the kitchen. By the time she was dressed she was sure that she'd hear no fewer than five dishes break, and by the time she'd gotten back to her room she'd run into at least five of her housemates. Rogue locked the bedroom door behind her before sitting down to put her make-up on and brush her still wet hair. Cabin fever would be an understatement for her if she stuck around much longer, and she was pretty sure that Professor X would rather her not get into a fight with someone…again. She grimaced at the thought of it. Cleaning the bathrooms had not been worth socking Berserker over his comments on her make-up.

When she deemed her hair and makeup acceptable she swung down from her balcony onto the tree branch that Gambit had used and easily dropped to the ground. A breeze tugged at her hair picking it up and pushing it back in her face. It gave her the feeling of walking into cobwebs if she focused on it too much. The grounds were clear, clean, and green as always. She didn't want to consider the sort of lawn care it took to keep covering up the torn up flowers and grass from the teens that were more rowdy than herself. Off behind the house she could hear a couple of the boys shouting, and she was close to certain that they were playing some sort of sport that would eventually involve damage to themselves, the property, or a tree. It wasn't long before their voices faded away as she neared the front gate.

"Hmm, maybe Ah'll get mahself some coffee and bagel before too much walkin'," she thought as her stomach garbled at her. Some food certainly wouldn't hurt, and then she'd be able to stay out longer before coming back home. She glanced back in time to see one of the boys careen headfirst into the fountain. That sealed it. Some time with her thoughts before Kitty came home and saw the flowers wouldn't do her any harm at all.