Disclaimer: The X-Men and all related characters are property of Marvel.

Alright ya'll. This is a response to joriholic73's Super Challenge of Obscurity Challenge. These were the rules:

1. Romance has to be one of the genres. (If you've read my stuff, most of the time it's interwoven in, but I'll try to bring it more to the forefront in a few chapters)

2. Obscure pairing. (WARNING! This is slash. If it makes you uncomfortable, bye. That's for visiting, maybe you'd like D-Factor instead)

3. Whatever other genre I want. He challenged us to use a Western. (I figured, what the hell? Why not? I'm not gonna say I'm good at it. It's just a new taste of the X-Men. Wild west. Wooo!)

4. And songfics are allowed. (Maybe a chapter will be based off a song, but I don't do a ton of this)

So. This is more of a "un-writers block" story. The chapters are shorter, the story is shorter. I'd like to think it's unique, the idea. But we'll see I guess. It is AU in setting and character association, but with powers. If I capture a few in the bizarreness I'll be thrilled. But mostly this is for joriholic73 to entertain him. I don't know if he's gotten any other challenge acceptances.

And more so: General Disclaimer: This is rated T for- blood, violence, inferred drinking, cross-dressing, lesbians, minor racial issues (as it is the 1830s), and death (implied and not). Any of this makes you uncomfortable, I apologize.

Oasis

Ten years ago…

A child ran stumbling through the desert, looking for an oasis. The sun beat down on the dry, dusty ground, and the child scrambling over the ground. No breeze stirred the dust, the only movement of dirt came from the kid's feet.

The kid was covered head to toe in clothing, only their face was visible. Their face was fine-boned, with a cleft chin, covered in long-dried sweat and smudged dirt. Emerald eyes shone brightly, despite the exhaustion in the rest of their body. The kid wore a dust and sweat stained, long-sleeved white shirt, a coarse brown jacket on top. The trousers they wore were a lighter brown than the jacket, and were strapped around the kid's scrawny waist with a leather belt. They wore flimsy, worn, leather boots. Brown leather gloves were on their hands. A straw hat was on the child's head, keeping the sun off their filthy face.

The child stumbled over a rock and landed face down in the dirt, their hat falling off. The lack of a hat revealed short, messy, auburn hair, with bleak white streaks. With their hat off it was clear the kid couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. It appeared as though the child was a boy, but that is what she wanted.

The kid's head lifted off the ground and they peered ahead, the heat making the air wavy. They swallowed hard. There were gates ahead.

A town.

The kid gasped, and scrambled upright, new energy pumping through her veins. After weeks fending for herself, finally she had found her oasis.

There were two men at the gates on either side of the posts. One was tall, blonde and thin, the other was a tad shorter with black hair, bulkier build, and glasses. Both wore similar clothing, flannel shirts, jeans, boots, and belts with guns slung on their hips. The blonde also wore a long trench coat, while his partner wore a bandana around his neck.

When the child was nearly forty feet from the gate, the blonde one drew his gun and casually pointed it at her.

"Stop where you are, boy!" He called. Sweat and stubble glimmered in the bright sun.

The kid skidded to a halt, breathing hard. So close.

"State your business!"

"Oh come on Warren-" His partner started.

The blonde shook his head. "Quiet Hank, we've had enough trouble around here." He turned his attention back to the kid. "You! Kid! What's your name?"

She said nothing, but shook her head.

"Eh, come off it. Your name." When the kid still didn't answer, a smile grew on the man's face. "A runaway. We got ourselves a rogue runaway."

His partner straightened his glasses on his face. "Well, welcome to the town of Xavier."

Present Day, 1830, Xavier

Rogue sat at the bar in the local tavern, loosely holding a now empty bottle. It had been a long time since she had ran to the town of Xavier, and was happy she had. Adjusting to life there, not only as an independent citizen, but also as a man had been more work than she had expected at her naïve age of twelve, but so far she had been successful.

Part of adapting was acquiring a soft, low voice to pass herself off as a male. Luckily she did not develop much, and apart from binding her chest every day, her appearance remained to seem as that of a slim man. Unfortunately she still hadn't figured out how to fake the appearance of stubble nor to grow any so she dealt with vicious slander from the men in town.

But, she knew how to efficiently teach a lesson.

The town of Xavier was home to many strange characters, many of those with bizarre abilities. The founder himself, Charles Xavier, was rumored to be able to read minds. It was safest to assume that everyone could do something bizarre, just to be safe. For the most part, citizens of the town didn't have too much trouble with each other, and Charles Xavier could put to rest a disagreement with only words. The biggest worry was the hordes of bandits that roamed that part of the country. But with bizarre abilities, the townspeople could fend for themselves very efficiently.

Rogue waved at the barman, tipping her empty bottle up, the signal for another. He nodded and dug around his stores for an additional for the classic customer.

She leaned back in her tall chair, tugging her gloves on tighter. She was one of those with strange abilities. After the accident that sent her running she knew to keep her skin covered up.

Her clothing was eerily similar to those she arrived in, but she had upgraded her hat to one of the typical "cowboy" hats worn around town. Her hat currently sat on the counter next to her, leaving her short, messy hair free.

"How goes it Rogue?" The barman asked, as he sat down a new bottle for her and scooped up the old one. He grinned goofily, shaking a hand through his sandy brown hair.

"Just fine, Bobby. Anyone interestin'?" She asked, taking a long swallow of her drink.

"Nah, the usual." The barman replied, turning to place the empty bottle in a bin with others.

Suddenly the door swung open. The buzzing chatter died down as a short, bulky man walked in. All eyes followed him and he stalked up to the bar and sat next to Rogue.

He was new.

The newcomer grunted, fixing his stormy blue eyes on the barman. "Hey kid, how about a drink?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Sure. Whaddya want?"

The man looked over at his bar mate, Rogue. "Whatever he's havin'."

"Coming right up."

The man shifted in his seat and set down his hat on the counter, revealing blue-black hair that stuck out from his head. Long side-burns trailed down his face, joined by rough stubble.

He turned around to look at the others in the tavern. "Well, what are ya lookin' at, bub? Don't mind me." He grumbled, and turned back around.

Slowly the noise rumbled back to normal levels.

The barman returned with the newcomer's bottle. He set it down in front of him and stood there for a few moments silently. Then he spoke. "So, what brings you around here?"

"Passin' through." The man grunted, picking up the bottle and flicking the lid off with his thumb. The cap spun in the air and he snatched it out of the air with ease.

"You gotta name?"

The man paused in his drink and looked up slowly. "Logan."

The barman nodded. "I'm Bobby. Bobby Drake. This I'm guessing is you're first time in Xavier."

"Yup. Brilliant you are." Logan grunted.

"Well a piece of advice, watch your step. A lot of dangerous people around here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Not kiddin'." The barman said sagely, nodding his head.

The man chuckled, looking sideways at Rogue. "Lemme guess, people like this sweet little toothpick."

Rogue sneered at him, but Bobby defended her faster than she could speak. "Watch it. He's a tough one."

The man laughed. "Yeah right."

"Runaway Rogue here, he can drop a man with a single touch."

Logan nearly choked on his drink, and set it down hastily. He looked at Rogue bewildered. "Look at 'im. I could break him in half!"

Rogue tugged at her gloves nonchalantly. "And Ah could drop ya with mah pinky."

He studied her carefully, most likely sizing her up. Rogue shrugged and gulped down half of her drink. She set it back down at met his eyes.

"We'll see about that." He muttered darkly. He turned to the barman. "What about the rest of these guys?" He gestured around to the tavern. "Might as well have an idea of who not to bump into before I leave."

The barman pointed out a table in the corner. Two men sat at it.

"That there's the sheriff and his deputy." He pointed to the man with light brown hair and a star on his chest. He wore a pair of glasses that glinted red. "That one's the sheriff, man by the name of Scott Summers." The barman pointed to the other one, a man bundled up completely in clothing, his hat still on and a red bandana pulled up to just under his eyes, which peered out pure gold. "His deputy's some immigrant. A German named Kurt Wagner. " The barman leaned in closer. "Never shows his face, that one. He operates more at night, and don't doubt he can move fast. Even though he's covered head to toe, that clothing's the most lightweight there is."

Logan grunted. "Who else?"

Bobby nodded to the table next to the sheriff. Two women sat there, both in dresses typical of the day. One had fiery red hair, the other brown. The red haired one was considerably taller, the other was rather petite.

"The redhead there is the sheriff's girl, Jean Gray. Her parents send her cash every month. The other one, the little slight one, is Katherine Pryde. Woo boy, a fiery little spit if I've ever seen one. Her family moved her a few years back, and trust me, she can take care of herself." The barman winked at Rogue. "And the pretty thing's had her eyes on my boy Rogue here since she came." He laughed. "But Rogue thinks himself a gentleman, keeps here close as a friend, but no closer than that."

Rogue flushed, and took another swallow to busy herself.

Katherine was a pretty girl, but Rogue wasn't sure how she'd react when the "boy" she had eyes for turned out to be a girl as well. Besides, not like she could compete with—

"Piotr Rasputin. A Russian." The barman continued. He was pointing at a huge strongman sitting in a corner by himself. "He works at the railroad, and does whatever other odd jobs he can. Quiet guy, but he could pound the daylights out of you in his sleep."

Logan held up his hand. "Alright, alright. I get it. People here mean business." He pointed his thumb at Rogue. "Even if the sissies don't look it."

Rogue set her bottle down carefully, despite her rising anger. This man was starting to strike a nerve with her.

Bobby chuckled nervously, looking from Rogue to the newcomer. He was saved from having to intervene again by another customer coming up to the bar, he went over to attend to them.

The original two sat in silence for several minutes before Logan spoke up again. "So, tell me about this town of yers."

Rogue rocked her drink back and forth as she answered. "Town was founded by a man named Charles Xavier, it was named aftah him. We get all sorts of strange characters, some arrive on their own, some are invites of Xavier."

"Tell me more about this man."

She eyed him suspiciously. Like anyone else in the town she was protective of Xavier, he was a good man. "He's the mayor now. Used to have a wife and kid, but they left a year aftah I came. The man has an African woman and her niece or somethin' stayin' with him."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "A slave?"

"Nah," she shook her head, "the man's too good for that. Both of 'em are free."

"Huh… 1830 and we got two free slaves livin' with the mayor." He paused as he scratched his chin. "What about you? How'd you end up here? Invitation?"

"Drake said I was a runaway, dinnit he?" Rogue replied. The man nodded. "Well I was a runaway. Left home when I was twelve."

"Oh really, why did ya?" Logan asked, obviously curious.

Rogue picked up her bottle and drank slowly for several long moments. Setting it down, she replied. "I killed a man."

A/N: Don't expect regular updates. But since it's summer I'll try for once a week. If you like my writing style feel free to check out D-Factor.