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When It's Love	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Het - Male/Female Views: 4320 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters and locations are the intellectual property of Marvel Comics. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7: Action Plan

Months passed. Summer burnt through its entire supply of fiery heat, and on its heels Autumn drew its cloak of many colors over the world. Rogue and Remy’s relationship deepened slowly but surely as they spent more time together, even though their physical expressions of intimacy remained limited to merely watching and being watched. Various crises also hampered their progress – alien psionic parasites, flying pterodactyl-men with hypnotic eyes, cosmic entities possessing dear friends, cosmic entities driving said friends insane, cosmic entities killing and resurrecting said friends. Also, Beast celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday.
One dreary October morning, Rogue received a telepathic message from the Professor: If you cannot welcome visitors at this juncture, please prepare yourself to do so. Frowning to herself at the lack of information, Rogue slipped into a pair of jeans and put on a bra under the shirt she’d been lounging in.
A few moments later, she heard a knock at the door. The Southerner opened the door to see Beast carrying a large, unfamiliar metal box approximately the size of a space heater. “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” he greeted her.
“C’mon in, Hank,” she invited him, stepping out of his path. “You ain’t Greek, though,” Rogue added as he passed.
“Alpha Chi Sigma, class of ’80,” Beast replied with a chuckle.
Rogue shook her head ruefully at having been outmaneuvered. Sparing a glance at the gift itself, she asked, voice hushed with a tinge of hope: “Is that gizmo… what Ah think it is?”
“Indeed it is – one portable mutant suppression field generator, made to order,” answered Beast with his usual amiable tone. “Our recent encounters with Shi’ar technology and materials provided insight instrumental to conquering the engineering difficulties I had encountered prior,” he replied. The blue-furred genius plugged the device into a wall socket and opened the topmost surface, revealing a screen and keyboard. “All that’s left is for me to input the dimensions of your room for the dampening field,” Beast added as his fingers danced with nimble grace across the keys.
“Don’t forget the bathroom,” requested Rogue.
Beast glanced up at her blankly. When realization struck, his eyes widened. “Ah… yes… of course.” Coughing into his fist, he added the requested parameters. “Thanks to the Shi’ar enhancements, the field will also muffle sound waves,” he explained helpfully as he closed the device.
“So, as long as Ah’m in here or in the shower, Ah can touch safely?” asked Rogue, desperate to confirm her hopes.
“Affirmative,” Beast assured her. Barely had the word left his mouth when Rogue wrapped him in her arms. If she’d had her super-strength, it would’ve constituted a rib-cracking bear hug.
“If you won’t so fuzzy, Ah’d kiss ya!” Rogue gushed.
“You should be kissed, but by someone who knows how,” Beast answered with a sigh.
“Gone With the Wind!” Rogue gasped. “Ah got that one!” After a moment she picked up on the sadness in his tone. “Hank… Ah’m sorry. It ain’t fair –“
“Don’t worry about it,” he interjected, rather curtly given his usual genial manner. “That I can bring you the joy you’ve long been denied brings me joy in equal measure.”
“A lovely sentiment, Hank,” praised the gentle voice of Jean Grey, who poked her red head into Rogue’s open door. “Pardon the eavesdropping; I heard Hank’s voice in your room, and my curiosity got the better of me.”
“Jean, honey, you’re always welcome ta drop bah,” Rogue reassured her. “In fact, Ah was hopin’ ta talk to ya about a few things.” She gave Beast a big squeeze and let go. “Hank, if you’d excuse us, please?”
Hank smiled at the two women. “Ah, yes, of course – the inevitable ‘girl talk’?”
Jean stepped fully into the room. The smile on her face faltered, and she stared at her friends in confusion. “Something’s wrong… I… I can’t sense either of you.”
Rogue shook her head, an exultant grin on her face. “Naw, that’s great news! That little doo-dad works!” she crowed.
“A power-suppression device for Rogue’s quarters,” Hank supplied helpfully as he exited. Over his shoulder, he teased, “As if you should doubt the efficacy of any of my inventions,” before he departed down the hall.
Jean studied Rogue thoughtfully for a long moment. A gradual blush crept into her cheeks as she divined the reason her friend desired to converse with her. “You’re planning on using this device to deepen your relationship with Gambit,” she surmised.
“Ah was gonna tell ya, ‘Ah’m gonna get laid!’” joked Rogue. “What you said sounds better, though.”
Jean made a face and leaned against the nearest wall. “Is that all you want from Remy – a purely physical relationship?”
Rogue didn’t answer for a long moment. Jean had lunged right for the heart of things, in contrast to her usual tact. Finally, the Southerner muttered, “Ah don’t think so.”
“Until you’re certain, Rogue, I’d advise against sleeping with Remy,” Jean urged her. “Remy’s feelings are quite genuine, and they run deep. It’d be cruel to toy with him, especially after what you told Scott just before we battled the Shi’ar Imperial Guard.”
Rogue blushed. “You heard all that, huh?”
A smile played over the redhead’s lips, and her emerald eyes glinted with just a hint of mischief. “You said you wanted what Scott and I have. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought you were making a pass at him,” she teased.
“Would he have even been able ta tell Ah was flirtin’?” Rogue teased back.
Jean stifled a giggle. “Doubtful – Scott has many talents, but flirtation isn’t one of them,” she responded with an exasperated sigh. “At any rate,” she continued, “I think you have a chance at that type of relationship with Remy.”
“Long as Ah don’t screw it up,” Rogue finished. She slumped onto her bed and fidgeted. “Speakin’ of… Ah could, um, use some pointers.”
Heat gradually suffused Jean’s cheeks as she realized what her friend was asking. “I’m… not sure I’m the best person to ask,” she demurred. “Ororo has a bit more… experience in such matters.”
Rogue blushed as well. “Ah… didn’t know that she’d… Ah mean, she’s gorgeous and all, but she’s so… so buttoned-up.” Processing this new information required a lengthy silence. “You’re a lot more approachable,” she admitted, intent on forging ahead.
The redhead cleared her throat, clearly working up the nerve to tackle this topic, even with a fairly close friend. “Beyond making sure you’re emotionally ready for… intimacy,” she began, “you should prepare for all the more practical consequences.”
“Protection, ya mean?” asked Rogue. At Jean’s embarrassed nod, Rogue snorted, “Ah ain’t lettin’ that swamp-rat knock me up, that’s fer dang sure. Ah better not catch nothin’, either.”
Jean winced. “Exactly – given Remy’s history, it would be wise for you both to visit a doctor. I can recommend a mutant-friendly, ah, women’s specialist,” she offered.
Rogue ran a hand through her thick auburn mane. Nerves at the prospect of having to visit a gynecologist clashed with the excitement of finally having a reason to visit one. “What else should Ah know goin’ in?” she asked with a giggle at her own innuendo.
“I don’t want to spoil too many surprises,” Jean deflected with a playful smirk.
“Did it hurt the first tahm?” Rogue asked, directing her gaze at the wall next to Jean’s shoulder.
“No,” Jean answered emphatically. “We took things slowly and worked our way up to it, so I was well beyond ready. I… hope I don’t need to spell things out.”
“Naw, Ah don’t wanna embarrass ya worse.”
Jean laughed, and the awkwardness subsided somewhat. “Admittedly, the sensation was rather strange and took some getting used to.”
The inquisitive one of the pair craned her neck to look at her to look at her friend with a curious expression. “Strange how?”
Jean’s face rapidly shifted shades for red until it matched her hair. With a resigned sigh, she answered, “Living human feels much, much different from inert plastic.” She couldn’t quite look at her friend directly as she admitted it.
A giggling fit overcame Rogue. Despite her best efforts, her shoulders shook. “Ain’t nothin’ ta be ashamed of, honey,” she reassured her friend between spasms of laughter.
“Scott and I did wait for the honeymoon, after all,” the redhead reminded her friend, a little defensively. “I had to keep myself from going crazy until then.” She joined Rogue in giggling, though.
Once the giggling fit subsided, Jean grew more serious. “Given his experience, Remy will likely guide the encounter,” she began with a guarded tone, “but don’t be afraid to tell him if something doesn’t feel good, or if something does, or if you want to try something. Communication is key to a pleasant experience, whether it’s the first time or the hundredth.”
“Ah didn’t know y’all made it to a hundred,” jibed Rogue with a playful wink. “Y’all won’t hitched but a few days.”
Jean’s face seemed to invent new shades of red to turn. “Even though our wedding officiant turned out to be Morph in disguise, all of the legal paperwork remained valid,” she countered tersely. A shadow crossed her features. “Scott told me the X-Men had held a memorial service between my time as the Phoenix and as the Dark Phoenix. We haven’t… since I’ve been back. Too much to sort through,” she explained, her voice losing volume with each word.
Rogue’s lips pursed, and she could feel the pain in Jean’s voice. “It’d be weird fer Scott to take a dead woman to bed,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Jean’s green eyes misted over, and Rogue knew her attempt at humor had backfired. Before she could apologize, the redhead fled the room. The Southerner kicked herself for having hurt Jean’s feelings like that, especially when she’d accommodated Rogue’s request for advice, and resolved to make it up to her somehow. At the moment, though, Rogue decided to give Jean some space after her unintentionally callous comment.
For now, the woman who thought she was doomed never to touch again faced the possibility of thumbing her nose at her supposed destiny. Rogue reclined on her bed, folding her arms behind her head, and stared up at the ceiling. Her mind cast about aimlessly, seeking the answer to a single, overwhelming question: How, exactly, did she feel about Remy LeBeau?
The Cajun was certainly gorgeous, no doubt about that. His attempts at charm mostly succeeded; even when they failed, they read as endearingly infuriating… or maybe infuriatingly endearing. Further, she knew that, to a degree, his devil-may-care attitude masked the depth of his love for this new family they’d both adopted; she supposed that his nonchalance had developed to protect his psyche in the cut-throat world of Thieves and Assassins.
A smile pulled at her lips. As much fun as that persona could be, the sensitive side of Remy – the part that could be sweet enough to bring her flowers, as he had last week – appealed to Rogue on a deeper level. That same gentleness had served as her rock whenever they visited the hospital together, because it made her feel like, no matter what her past sins, he would accept her, just as she is.
Rogue sat up in an instant as the realization struck, swift and sure as one of Storm’s thunderbolts. “Ah love him,” she whispered to herself. “Ah’m in love with that no-account, low-down scoundrel of a swamp-rat.”
The Southern gal shook her head. She should’ve seen the signs sooner: the way she pushed him away so hard when Remy tried to get close; the anger born of worry whenever she feared for his safety, whenever she feared he’d gone and would never return; the way she lashed out at the others whenever they made snide remarks about the Cajun’s personality or his past; the way she wanted to tear that conniving swamp-witch limb from limb for trying to force Remy to marry her. With a snort, Rogue knew she also would’ve torn Remy’s arm off rather than seem him enslaved to that rattlesnake of a woman.
“Ah gotta tell ‘im,” she resolved, but she wondered how. Calling Remy on the team’s communicators struck Rogue as misusing X-Men equipment. Swooping through the Mansion corridors toward his room she rejected as reckless, likely to end up with her flattening someone in her haste. Finally, after dismissing some other options, Rogue decided on something just a little old-fashioned: a love-letter.
A few more minutes saw the love-struck woman seated at her desk, pen in hand, staring at her blank stationery. With painstaking pen strokes punctuated by frequent pauses to ponder precisely how to put her feelings to paper, Rogue’s letter took shape. By the time she finished, she’d exhausted her bottle of white-out. With a flourish, she signed the letter, pausing to review it one final time.
The more Rogue stared at it, the more she realized that Remy might hold the paper up to the light and see what she’d written in the first place, which alternated between the painfully trite, the painfully mushy, and the painfully harsh. Besides, this copy with its dozens of white-out spots looked terrible, and she wanted this to look as good as she felt while pouring her heart out in writing. The work of a few more minutes saw her holding a fresh letter, copied line by line without error in her best handwriting. On impulse, she brought the finished letter to her lips and pressed them firmly beside her name.
Music blasting down the corridor gave Rogue an idea. She folded up her letter and stuffed it into an envelope and headed for the source of the noise. “At least Jubilee’s got decent taste in music,” she muttered to herself when she recognized the husky voice of Patty Smyth singing “The Warrior.”
Rogue had to pound the door hard enough for it to shake on its hinges before Jubilee answered. “What’s up, Rogue?” asked the teenaged mutant as she gingerly turned the knob on her stereo, clearly afraid her powers would fry the device yet again. Bright pink bubblegum formed a bubble, blocking Jubilee’s mouth, chin, and nose from view.
“Ah need a teensy favor,” Rogue answered, holding up the envelope. “Slip this under Remy’s door for me, if ya please. Don’t you dare open it, either,” she warned with a stern glare.
Jubilee popped her bubble and took Rogue’s letter. “No prob. Can I at least know what it is? It’s, like, totally weird to write a letter to someone who lives in the same building.” At the reddening of older woman’s face, the teen’s lit up. “Ohmygod, it’s totally a love letter!” she squealed.
Rogue winced. “Keep it down, will ya? It won’t be a surprahse if Remy hears you all the way downstairs.”
Giggling, Jubilee whispered, “Sorry! This is just, y’know, major! Like, way romantic and stuff!” The whisper was ratcheting rapidly back up to her previous squeal. She also bounced up and down on her toes.
“Well? Scoot!” Rogue urged. “If’n ya hurry, ya maht catch Remy in just his drawers.”
To Rogue’s eternal amusement, Jubilee froze like a deer in headlights – and Rogue, having grown up in the backwoods of Mississippi, had witnessed that phenomenon enough to know. When she finally found her voice, the youngest X-Man protested: “Get real! Like I’d wanna see that!” Jubilee rolled her eyes to emphasize her exasperation.
The teen’s subtle fidgeting told Rogue otherwise. With a knowing gleam in her eye, the older woman leaned in to whisper, “Go on ‘n sneak a peek. Ah won’t say nothin’.” She winked and added, “Consider that yer payment fer doin’ this for me.”
Rogue barely suppressed a laugh once Jubilee had gone; she’d never seen that girl move so fast. Once the teen had left her sight, the older woman decided to return to her room to write a note of apology to Jean.
Later that morning, Remy awoke to find an envelope just inside his door. He stretched to work the kinks out of muscles tired from a late night out at Strobe, the local mutant-friendly club. A regular, the charming Cajun tended to keep the dance floor well-populated with women well past the point that most other clubs shut down for the night, which meant he often received free drinks from patrons and owner alike.
An amused smirk on his face, Remy retrieved the letter from its spot on the floor. The note within smelled faintly of Rogue’s perfume – which she didn’t wear nearly often enough for his tastes – as he unfolded it. His smirk transformed into a full-fledged grin as his red-on-black eyes swept over the energetic strokes of Rogue’s penmanship:

My dearest Remy,

I know this is a strange way for me to talk to you, but I’m not sure I could say it all with you looking at me the way you do, that look which seems to charge every fiber of my being and makes me feel like I want to explode. Sometimes you make me want to knock that stupid smirk right off your stupid face. Most times, though, I’d rather kiss that smirk right off your face, kiss you until neither of us can breathe, kiss you until my lips go numb.
Just before we fought the Shi’ar Imperial Guard, I told Cyclops that he and Jean have the kind of love I’ve always dreamed of, the kind you read about in fairy tales. I remember how torn up Scott was after Jean’s funeral, how he quit the X-Men because he felt like this life wasn’t worth it without her at his side. We both remember how, when Phoenix offered to revive her using one of our lives in exchange, Scott stepped forward to pay that price without even a moment’s thought. Hell, he nearly blasted Wolverine for trying to offer himself instead.
I want to find out if we can have something like that. I think we can. Until now, though, I’ve been too stubborn to admit it. Now, I can tell you in no uncertain terms:
I love you, Remy LeBeau.
Sorry it took me so long. Once we’ve gotten a few “practical matters” worked out, I’ll be more than happy to make it up to you. I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.
We’ll discuss things in detail the next time I see you in person.

All of my love,
Rogue
__________________________________________________________
A/N: Quick turnaround time on this chapter. Gotta love it when the muse strikes. Apologies if this one seems like filler; it kind of is, but it was necessary setup for the climax. (See what I did there?) As always, please leave feedback in the form of reviews or PMs or posts to the discussion thread on the forums.
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When It's Love