Desperado (X-Men - ROMY)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Rogue awoke to the feeling of something resting on her hip. She didn't feel pinned, it wasn't heavy enough for that, but it was definitely an odd sensation. She opened her eyes to look and found an arm draped there, which made her realise that her back was warmer than usual. She turned over to see who was there, and was greeted by a smiling Remy.

"Mornin' cher. Was it good for you too?"

"Remy? What are you doing in here?" she asked, though clearly delighted to see him.

"Remy couldn't continue sleeping alone with a belle femme so close. I need snuggles."

Rogue laughed. "You are quite possibly the sweetest man I ever met, even if you are full of shit."

Remy's smile faded slightly. "You were having bad dreams, I didn't want you to be alone."

"My knight in shining sweatpants," she smiled. "Thank you."

"Was nothing, cher. Now, if you don't mind, I'd better go before Monsieur Claws finds us and gets the wrong idea."

"Okay. I'll see you at breakfast."

Remy kissed her hair, then made his way back to his own room.

He began to think that his luck would hold, when Logan came out of his room. He stopped stopped a few paces down the hall and glared as he looked from Remy to Rogue's door, then to Remy's door.

"You got something to tell me, bub?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest.

Remy realised that Logan was in no mood to think logically and remember that nothing untoward could have happened, so this could go one of two ways; violence, which seemed to be the option that Logan was leaning towards, or there was a slim chance that Remy could shock him into inaction.

He stalked towards Logan, looking equally angry.

"You have any idea how bad it is for Remy's ego, when a femme calls your name out in bed rather than Remy's?" he glared as he passed the other man, then slammed his bedroom door.

Logan was frozen in place for a moment. Sure, he loved Rogue, but not like that. And she wasn't... she didn't... she couldn't... could she?

"Hey, Logan." Rogue called she came into the kitchen.

"Hey, stripes. You, uh, you got a minute?"

"Sure," she poured herself a mug if coffee then came to join him.

"Look, you know that I care about you, right?"

"Yeah?" She couldn't figure out where this was going. Logan didn't talk about feelings unless he was under pain of death.

"Well, I uh... You see, the thing is, I think I may have given you the wrong impression, probably not helped by me taking against Gambit like I did. But I'm not jealous, okay. I mean, I love ya and all, but I'm not in love, if you know what I mean, and I'm sorry if you thought that I might be, you know, interested in you... in that way. I'm too old for someone like you, too stuffy, I wouldn't be good for ya."

Thought she had tried her best to hold it in, Rogue burst out laughing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Logan, I just... Who gave you the impression that I was romantically interested in you?"

Logan's awkwardness had been replaced by anger. "Gambit," he growled.

The penny dropped. "You wouldn't have happened to see him coming out of my room this morning and gotten the wrong idea, would ya?"