Kitty Pryde, ya'll: President and Founder of the Remy + Rogue 4ever Fanclub. In every timeline, she's out here doing the Lord's work.
Day 2: When's the Honeymoon, Ms. LeBeau?
Rogue leaned against the kitchen counter and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, mentally ticking through all the places she’d been in the last twenty-four hours.
Library.
Gazebo.
Danger room.
Rec. Room.
She wasn’t panicking. She wasn’t.
There was absolutely no reason to panic. She’d simply misplaced a stupid playing card. A stupid playing card that Gambit had slipped into her hand as she’d turned to leave New Orleans, still shivering from her impromptu swim courtesy of Julien Boudreaux.
The Queen of Hearts. His lucky lady.
Honestly, she should have thrown the damn thing in the trash. Everyone had expected her to. Except it made a perfectly good bookmark.
“Where are you?” she muttered.
“Whoa.” Scott appeared in the doorway, eyebrows climbing. “Rogue. You okay?”
Rogue pushed off the counter and shouldered her way past him.
“Peachy.”
The problem was she couldn’t exactly go around asking if anyone had seen it. Sweet Jesus, she already knew exactly how that conversation would go.
Has anyone seen Gambit’s lucky card?
The room would go silent. Kurt’s tail would lash. Logan would mutter something about Stockholm Syndrome. Jubilee would never let her live it down. She’d have to move to another country…maybe another continent.
Maybe Antarctica, she thought. Bet there’s no Thieves in Antarctica.
She pushed the door to her room open and made a beeline for the nightstand, yanking the drawer out. Maybe the fifth time was the charm.
She was about to dump the whole drawer out on her bed when a throat cleared. Rogue turned. Kitty stood by the door, grinning, with the Queen of Hearts between her fingers.
Rogue stopped breathing. “Oh hell.”
Kitty’s smile widened. “Oh yes.”
Rogue held out her hand. “Give me that.”
Kitty ignored the demand completely. “So, like, when’s the honeymoon, Ms. LeBeau?”
Rogue lunged. Kitty squealed and darted sideways, slipping around the foot of the bed.
“Kit.”
“Rogue.”
“Give me the card.”
“But inquiring minds want to know,” Kitty laughed.
“Kitty,” Rogue warned. “How’d you even get that in the first place?”
Kitty dodged again. “I found it when I was doing the sheets. It was buried under your pillow.”
Rogue’s soul left her body. “If you tell anyone, I will drain you until you forget your own name.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I might.”
“You like him.”
Rogue froze. There it was. The thing she’d been trying not to think about ever since she came back from New Orleans.
Because somewhere between getting chased through New Orleans, fighting beside him, getting shoved into a swamp, and watching him throw himself into danger for his family—Gambit had stopped being just a thief she tolerated and became someone she understood.
And she kinda hated how much she didn’t hate that.
Heat flooded up her neck. Rogue lunged again, feinting left before pivoting right. This time, she managed to catch Kitty off guard and plucked the card from her roommate's fingertips.
“Hey!”
Rogue snatched the card back and took three quick steps away, holding it against her chest.
“Rogue—”
“No.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Rogue grabbed the nearest novel from her nightstand, slid the card safely between the pages, and pointed at Kitty. “If I hear one peep about this, I’ll skin ya alive ya hear?”
Kitty put a hand over her heart. “I would never betray your confidence.”
Rogue narrowed her eyes as Kitty stared back innocently. The silence stretched between them.
“Liar.”
“Absolutely.”
Rogue groaned. Somewhere in the distance, she could already hear her reputation dying.
Snatching the book to her chest, she turned on her heel and fled for the gazebo.
Behind her, she heard Kitty yell. “I better be your maid of honor.”
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