For some this may be their first time reading any of my work. The last time I posted was approximately 7-9 years ago. Yeah, that's a long time. Since then, I've continued to write. I've always loved writing. And I've actually rewritten some of my stories using techniques and, simply put, the sophistication that maturity will provide one with time. For those who may actually have read my work from so long ago, I hope that you can appreciate the reimagining of a story told in new light and language. To all: Enjoy.

FYI:
I don't own any of the characters and I don't own "Miss Independent" by Kelly Clarkson.

However, I do own a copy of "Deadpool: Fear Itself #1" and am anxiously awaiting #2!

Chapter 1: Miss Independent

Rogue lay on her side, gazing out the glass balcony doors that allowed for a sweeping view of the institute's grounds. There were certainly days that she didn't feel like dealing with others, this being one of them, but was forced to because there were simply too many people around. While, she didn't necessarily dislike Kitty being her roommate, she just would have preferred to have her own room.

She closed her eyes and allowed the loud pop music to flow over her and sighed. She would have to steal the CD later and scratch it and just hope that Kitty didn't have a backup at the ready. But in the meantime "Miss Independent" thumped from the corner where Kitty was in some vague sense working on her homework-as long as doing homework resembles dancing and grooving with one's eyes closed, seated or otherwise. Kitty was the only person thus far to even make an attempt at working on her summer homework assignments. Granted, Kitty was in all honors classes and actually liked school.

Rolling her eyes at Kitty's antics, she grabbed her pillow and hugged it tightly to her chest as she once more showed her back to her roommate. She hated how the lyrics seemed to describe her far too acurately. She really was little miss keep-your-distance. And she did have to keep her heart protected. What good could it possibly do for her to feel something only to have the crushing reality rip her heart out in the end. She'd never be able to be with another person, not in the long run. No guy would ever date someone who was quite literally untouchable. She frowned as the song began to describe a softened heart opened up to love. Flames of jealously licked at her, starting in her stomach and spreading quickly. It was so easy for everyone else. She hoped that no one would ever try and open the door for her. It would hurt far too much when she realized that she'd never be allowed to step through.

Rogue squeezed her eyes shut and forced the tears back. She couldn't...she wouldn't start crying over something that could not be changed. Please give me the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know what I cannot. When she reopened her eyes, her vision blurred for a moment with unused tears and then cleared, focusing on one of the many objects strewn across her bedside table. She pushed herself up slowly, leaning on one elbow as she reached forward and picked up the top playing card from a deck: the queen of hearts.

Quickly her thoughts shifted from anger and frustration to a strange new feeling that had been creeping up on her lately. In her mind's eye, she could see tall man who'd once given her this same card but from a different deck. He had long auburn hair that hung carelessly about his face, framing red on black eyes. A goatee decorated his chin and added credence to his devil-may-care appearance. She dropped the card as if afraid that this one would also blow up on her, but it didn't as it drifted lazily to the ground and slipped under her bed.

She hadn't seen him since that incident, at least not that she remembered. However, she'd been informed that she'd broken into Magneto's base and stolen each of the acolyte's powers before disappearing only to be found with Mystique in Tibet. She shook her head slowly but it did nothing to dislodge her lost memories from that time. Apparently, he had volunteered to be with Logan on the rescue team that had come to find her when she'd released Apocalypse. Why would he do that? Why would he care to come find me?

Rogue glanced over her shoulder to see that Kitty was back to actually reading her text book, although her head was still bobbing methodically to the music that played. Kelly Clarkson's soulful voice provided the background to Rogue's escape from the room. She was halfway down the hall and contemplating where it was that she'd like to go when a tickling touched at the edge of her brain before she could clearly hear the professor's voice.

Rogue, would you join me in my office, please?

With a small sigh of frustration, she obliged as she switched directions and found herself standing outside of a pair of varnished doors. She was about to knock when the door was opened for her by Ororo. "Hey, Storm."

"Rogue," came Ororo's simply response but her face was lit by a beautiful smile. Inwardly Rogue wished she could look half so beautiful, it was just so hard to smile sometimes.

Rogue's gaze turned as she met the professor's eyes from where he sat behind his desk. He motioned for her to sit and she took one of the ornate chairs. Glancing back, she could see that Ororo had let herself out and would not be joinging them. "Professor, Ah jus' wanna say. 'S not mah fault. When Kitty gets it in her mind ta cook, there ain't no stoppin' her."

The professor chuckled as he steepled his fingers beneath his chin and shook his head. "That's not why I called you here."

"Oh." Rogue squirmed in her seat. If it wasn't about the mess the kitchen had been left in the other day then she was certainly worried about what else it might be. Granted, she hadn't taken the Javelin for a joyride so perhaps it wasn't that bad.

"Yes, I was wondering if maybe you could help me out a little bit. I've been using Cerebro to find out more information about Magneto's new team of mutants. I've learned that their names are Remy LeBeau of New Orleans, Piotr…"

Rogue's mind drifted as the professor continued to talk. Remy. Cute name. And he was Cajun. She tried hard to wipe off her face what most likely looked like the smirk a cat would wear should they manage to secure a bowl of milk.

"All of them are approximately the same age as the students here, but their powers seem to be very well developed."

"Ah don' understand what that's got to do with meh though."

"I was wondering if you still had any of their memories. If so, they might lead us to Magneto." Rogue could see the concern that the professor bore for his longtime friend. She knew that the Professor and Magneto had been friends long, long ago and that it pained him to see that their ideals had drifted so far apart. Now, that the two of them should be working together, Magneto had instead opted to go off on his own, Acolytes in tow.

"Ah wish Ah could help, Proff. Ah've been tryin' ta remember, but 's all a blank. Ah jus' remember wakin' up in Tibet an' not knowin' how Ah managed ta get there." She tried hard to push her recent thoughts about the tall, handsome Cajun to the back of her mind. They weren't pertinent to the Professor's request and she didn't want to give him the idea that she was holding back. At least holding back more than a secret crush on the enemy. A slight blush creeped up her cheeks and the professor quirked up an eyebrow.

Is there something you would like to tell me, Rogue?

Nope. She shook her head in the negative for extra persuasive power, more so to convince herself. She forced back the cringe when she could see the slight disappointment wash over the professor for a moment and then she stood up. "Ah should get goin', Professor." He nodded and Rogue turned to leave.

As soon as she was through the doors, she was in a near sprint towards the front door of the mansion. "Hold up there, Stripes. Where do you think you're going?"

Rogue finally allowed that cringe as she turned to see Logan leaning against a wall nearby. It was just her luck that she had to run into someone before she could make her escape to fresh air. "Ah was goin' for a walk," she said simply. It seemed about accurate. She certainly hadn't planned to do much more than keep one foot going in front of the other.

"Sure, but I'm gonna come with you." He pushed himself off the wall and joined her by the front door and was not deterred by the slumping of her shoulders.

"Ah really jus' need ta be alone right now," Rogue sighed. Her thoughts were jumbled and she honestly couldn't see how she'd manage to find any trouble on the grounds. That and it was getting a little tiresome that Logan barely let her out of his sight ever since she'd had her little identity crisis. It had been months and at first the attention seemed sweet. But now it rubbed her the wrong way-especially now. She just wanted to feel normal or at least as normal as she could. And besides all that, if she didn't get her thoughts sorted out soon, she might as well just broadcast it directly to Jean that she was carrying a torch for a known enemy.

Rogue went to pass him, but his hand fell heavily on her shoulder. "Look, I can't let you go wandering around the grounds by yourself. You're an easy target for Magneto, or any other mutant hater at that."

"What are ya sayin', Ah can't look after mahself? Nobody treated Jean like this after her li'l breakdown. Why do Ah get the special treatment? An' stop acting like you're mah father or something." Instantly she regretted the last part after seeing the crumpled look on his face.

"We're just concerned, that's all," he said in low voice. "Besides, Jean wasn't the one used to release Apocalypse."

Rogue narrowed her gaze at him and crossed her arms defiantly over chest. Yet again, one more person reminding her that she was responsible for the end of the world. As if she'd set out with that goal in mind.

"Look, Ah'm fine. Ah just don' feel like bein' cooped up inside any longer. Ya know how Ah feel about crowds."

Logan lifted his hand from her shoulder and nodded in understanding. She didn't take time to question the sudden release, but rather jumped at the chance to push through the door and escape the confinement of the mansion walls.

A breeze blew in from the bay, cool and fragrant and rearranged the white bangs across her forehead. She walked aimlessly, her feet carrying her ever closer to the forest that edged the institute grounds. There, it was shaded from the hot summer sun and she climbed up into the lower branches of a tree to think.

Remy sat on his bed shuffling cards between his hands aimlessly. The cards flew with dexterity and speed that had been practiced for years. He sighed, glancing off to the side to see that a hat lay on the nearby desk and began to pitch the cards with ease into the hat. He was supposed to be packing for Egypt. However, he had absolutely no desire to go to Egypt. Egypt was hot, dusty, and quite possibly the least populated place in the world for Southern Belles. This had originally been his opinion of Bayville, minus the assessment on hot and dusty. But there was that X-girl, the little auburn. He had known just by looking at her the first time that she had southern roots. One could always tell in these matters. Southern Belles were ladies first, and fistfuls of fire in a close second and he wouldn't have them any other way.

As he let his thoughts drift, he continued to toss the cards without looking, each one landing neatly into the hat. It had been a while since he'd left New Orleans, and at the time, he'd hoped to never see a Southern girl ever again. He'd had quite enough after Bella Donna. That woman was far too good at making him feel the fool when he'd done nothing wrong. All because she had a jealous streak a mile long, he was made to feel bad just because women lined up around the block to talk to him. He smirked suddenly and let another card fly. Who wouldn't want to talk to him?

The last card landed in the hat and Remy was quickly on his feet, grabbing his trenchcoat from where it hung over the back of the desk chair. He was in need of some air and was fairly certain where it was he wanted to go to find it. Exiting his room, he passed by John who was suffering under the weight of a large propane tank he was attempting to carry. "Where you think you're going, Mate? We're supposed to be packing!"

"Gambit already packed, mon ami," he replied casually removing a playing card from an inner pocket and holding it up. It flared pink and John froze contemplating dropping the propane and running like hell. Remy just smirked and uncharged the card before replacing it in his pocket. "It was jus' a joke, non?"

"Yeah, just a joke," John replied nervously. "When you getting back? Magneto's going to be pissed if you're not here."

"Whenever Ah get back."

Remy swept out of the building and climbed aboard his red and black motorcycle. He swept his hand up over the body for a moment, a satisfied look crossing his face before he turned the bike on, flooding the injector to allow the bike to rumble to life. The then depressed the clutch, put it into gear, and roared away onto the road.

Their headquarters was situated not that far out of Bayville. Close enough to keep an eye on the X-men, but not so close to draw too much attention from their psychics. Remy had a hard time believing though that his one little trip into town would reveal himself or the other Acolytes. Surely the X-men had better things to do then to sit around waiting for one of his thoughts to cross their mind. He chuckled to himself and wondered if possibly the red headed psychic might in actuality.

But his thoughts did not remain on her for long as they drifted back to the auburn X-girl-the one with the white bangs and southern drawl. The Rogue. Yes, she was far more interesting to contemplate. He had often wondered if he'd appeared over eager to help find her but no one had said a thing. Perhaps they'd merely thought he'd gone along to keep Sabertooth and Wolverine from killing one another. He would have gladly allowed them to if it wouldn't have been for needing their more animal-like senses.

They had succeeded in finding her, although Remy wondered if it was more so their fault that Apocalypse was set free than hers. It had taken all of his persuasive abilities to get Sabertooth and Wolverine to cooperate with one another, but it had been time consuming to say the least. And to waste such valuable time when the clock was ticking. Remy shook his head as he swerved around a slow moving vehicle and turned down a street that wound away from the town.

A few more minutes passed and the only sound in the world was the rumbling of his own motor. No other cars passed him on the road and the only sign of civilization was a high brick wall that he was passing by. He slowed and parked the bike alongside the wall. He knew what was inside: the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. He also knew that it had an unbelievable security system that could not only anhilate lost squirrels, but also roaming Acolytes too. He stood on the seat of his bike, bracing his hands on the top of the wall and lifted himself up. He could see the mansion resting cliffside in the distance and in the setting light, he could see that the windows were starting to glow with evening activity. All was quiet on the property.

He crouched on the wall, not necessarily to hide for he was a good half mile from the mansion, but to assess whether or not he could drop inside the wall and then later climb back over. He didn't necessarily want to use the front gate.

There were far more than enough trees growing next to the wall to expediate his departure and so he decided to see what he could see beneath the tree line. He landed on the grass in a crouched position, the shade immediately swallowing him up. A few birds lifted up into the air, surprised by the intruder, but there was no other response. Remy was able to stoll among the trees, ambling towards the edge of the forest to gain another clear view of the mansion.

He was at the tree line and still, none of the alarms had gone off, no lasers had tried to riddle him with holes, and yet it was eerily absent of any squirrels or chipmunks. Remy leaned back against a tree and gazed up at the mansion, the lights twinkling in the windows and teasing of lives carried out peacefully inside. There was a small part of him that wondered if he'd made a wrong choice in working for Magneto. Actually, a large part of him wondered it quite often. But there was nothing to be done about it. Magneto had made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and to start refusing now would result in quite a few problems for him in the long run. As much as he'd like to change sides, it was too late for that. And at least for now, they seemed to be working together against a common enemy.

Nearby, Rogue blinked away sleep and stretched her arms up over her head. She managed to catch herself before she fell from the limb she was perched on and looked down warily. Must have fallen asleep. How late is it? The sky was rapidly darkening, casting her into deep shadows under the heavily laden branches of the trees. All was incredibly quiet, which wasn't unusual. The antics of the teenagers and Logan's overly sensitive alarm system had scared away all but a few birds.

She jumped down from the tree with a grace and agility that was somewhat unnatural. While most powers didn't remain with her very long, or at least not in a way that she could access, Logan's always seemed to be at the ready. She wondered if it had to do with the fact that he was a healer or if it was merely something he'd pressed upon her-a way for him to protect her even when he wasn't around. She knew she needed to get back to the mansion before someone began to worry about her. Eventually Kitty would notice that she was missing.

But something made her pause. She sniffed and frowned when she swore she could smell something spicy, like gumbo. No one would be making gumbo for dinner. No one knows how. Her eyes flicked back and forth through the trees and finally settled on a figure standing no more than ten feet away from her. He was tall, a long jacket fluttering about his legs, and he was staring right back at her with red on black eyes.

Neither of them said anything as they continued to stare at one another. It was a silent, yet mutual, agreement that the each knew the other was staring right back and yet they did nothing. A twig snapped and Rogue jumped before realizing that it was her who had side stepped slightly to adjust her weight. When she looked back up, Gambit was gone as if she'd dreamt him up. But it had been no dream that the handsome cajun boy had been watching her. Somehow he'd managed to sneak past Logan's defenses and had infiltrated the institute grounds. Her heart beated with regular skips and stutters as she wondered what his purpose had been. He'd been so quiet, but he'd been watching her. Had Magneto sent him or had he come on his own?

Remy ran through the trees swiftly and without making a sound. It wasn't long before he reached the wall and he easily hefted himself up into a tree and then jumped over the wall. His bike waited for him nearby. His heart was pounding as he throttled the engine and the bike roared to life, finding purchase on the pavement and tearing down the road.

He doesn't remember what roads he took to get back. All he knows is that in record time, he's straddling his bike as it idles outside of the warehouse that Magneto has renovated into his own personal headquarters in his quest against Apocalypse. Remy fights back the pounding of his heart but realizes that it's practically being encouraged by the pulsing of the bike beneath him. He cuts the engine and it helps-a little. She had not raised an alarm, had not run away, and had not fought him. She had seemed just as surprised as him to see him and yet she had not seemed scared either.

Feeling a little more in control of his own breathing and heart, he walked inside and was immediately greeted by a strong Australian accent that somewhat grated on his ears. John was only half a step away from pure insanity. Still, he was better than Sabertooth, but that wasn't saying very much.

"The prodigal Cajun returns! That sheila of yours must be some looker, Mate, for you to go sneaking around down under without telling Magneto. I've known dingos with more care and cunning than you."

Remy turned to look at the flame haired Australian and frowned. He had a slight point. Magneto might not take too kindly to him slipping away especially if he ever found out that he was more or less doing recon on the Institute but wasn't sharing his information. It hadn't been his intention to go there, but it had happened nonetheless. "'S none of y' business, mon ami. But f' y' information, Gambit was doin' some work on de side."

"Yeah? Well let's see this great haul of yours then." John grinned from ear to ear and Remyw asn't sure if it was because he was serving as a distraction from doing any work or if he was actually enjoying the chastising. Meanwhile, Piotr continued to load crates without comment. Oh, how Remy wished Piotr would interject something, anything. "Bet you don't have anything more than a couple of measly wallets," John sneered rolling his eyes.

Remy buried his hands into his coat's pockets and managed to keep a straight face. Sure, he'd stopped into town and picked a few pockets. It had not been his intention, but a habit. So instead he smirked. "If Gambit told y' all his secrets, it wouldn' be a secret stash, non? I'll go pick it up after all dis Apocalypse connerie."

"It won't be that easy, my friend." Both John and Remy turned to stare at Piotr. "I believe that even Magneto fears him, so this will be no easy task."

"Y' do speak English, mon ami."

"Of course," he replied, the words heavy with accent but still very clearly dictated. Piotr's head turned as he saw that John was practically quaking in his boots looking at the door. Eventually both Remy and Piotr turned to look.

"Who is it that I'm supposed to fear?" Magneto asked. "I want you boys to understand something: I fear no one-not Apocalypse, not Charles Xavier, and certainly not his pathetic X-men. We are leaving tomorrow and we will find Apocalypse and I will personally destroy him. I would suggest you all get a good night's sleep."

Remy sighed, his shoulders rising up and down. "N'importe quoi. So long as Gambit gets a vacation when we get back. Perhaps a trip t' de beach." He turned, showing Magneto his back and went to his room, closing the door behind him. He had done nothing to help prepare for this trip and planned to keep it that way as a form of protest. He felt bad that Piotr was left with the extra work, but it was the Russian's fault if he was too pliant.

He stared up at the bleak metal ceiling above his bed and frowned. How he hated the bleakness of their living conditions. He remembered the way that the lights had poured out through the mansion windows and sighed. It would be nice to have a warm bed to sleep in at a place like that. Somewhere where one would actually have something so simple and overlooked as carpet on one's feet in the morning when the arose from bed.

Rolling over to stare at a metal wall instead, he tried to think of how many miles wide the Atlantic Ocean was. And then it was how many more miles to Egypt? It was too far, he decided. He didn't need an exact number to know that. He wouldn't be an easy bike ride away from seeing the belle fille for quite a while now. Once more his heart began to pound as he remembered how intense her stare had been, and yet, she'd not been afraid. Had she not broken that twig, who knew how long they might have stared into one another's eyes. Perhaps, long enough to see into one another's souls. Or at least until the sun came up.

He smiled as he closed his eyes. Yes, the little miss independent of the X-men. He would have to check back in on her once they returned from Egypt. Perhaps then he'd be able to get her off his mind.