The sound disurbed the person inside somewhat. She wasn't telepathic yet, she wished that though her power allowed her to utterly absorb someone else - and see their mind as a result - she was a telepath. It probably would've made life easier.

Knock. Knock.

Only she wasn't one. She was "Rogue." What an interesting name she choose, no? A person who is not one of the group, used to discribe an abberation from the norm.

Knock. Knock.

She was a mutant. Wasn't that an change from the "normalness" of homo sapieness? Yet she was herself alone in a world of people who were supposed to be alone. An outcast among out casts?

Knock. Knock.

[Such thoughts shouldn't be dwelt on.] She thought to herself. [I have friends, a life, and enjoyment. Even if my romantic life is somewhat odd to say the least.]

Knock. Knock.

The noise was begining to irritate her. It was like Chinese water torture. Who was doing it? Why? Couldn't she be alone for a time? Was that so bad of a wish. Wasn't she always alone? Did she subconscously crave something she was destined to never have? Like an addict who thinks that just "one more" won't hurt?

Knock. Knock.

It was begining to annoy her even more. She wished it would stop. Why me? Is it really to much to want privacy? Who is this pest who obviously doesn't know what I need? Is the person clueless? Doesn't the person know that if no response was given that it meant that either no one was home or no response was wanted?

Knock. Knock.

Suddenly her out look on life began to change, subtly. She began to feel as though she needed to be around someone. Such a change surprised her, but only momentarilly.

She felt that she was confident that she could talk to someone. Besides which she needed someone to talk to. Her original wish wasn't popular anymore. She felt that she should open up the door. No matter who it was. She didn't care if it was the Proffesor telling her she needed to take the garbage out, or if it was Joseph or Remy stopping by to see if the other had come up with another cheasy way - and excuse - of bugging her. "After all. She should not have to worry about such people such as us." A direct quote from the both of them at the same time.

Yes, she would welcome the new person in.

Nomatter what.

No matter who.

No matter why.

"Unless, you're Jean, kindly leave."

The words came out so quickly she didn't even mean to say such a thing.

"Would y' kindly mind explainin' tha' chere?"

The Cajun accent was so thick - and rough - she momentarilly wondered if by her "break-up," as he'd put it so baltantly when he came to her in a semi-inebriated stupor, had made him loose it again.

[No,] she thought, [I don't want you to go crazy. Odd as it may be, you don't - you shouldn't have so little opinion of yourself that you'll ruin your life simply because you're having problems with your life.]

"I wish I knew as well." She paused unsure of what to say next. Unsure of how to react to a man who both puzzled her and surprised her. A man who she'd grown to both trust and suddenly distrust. A man who'd been so many things to her, she knew not how to react to him. Why it was, she felt she didn't quite know.

"Ah, take it that you wanted t' speak t' me about something?" She said in her own Southern Belle accent.

"Well it is quite simply really. But I think it'd be better if we were in the proper setting."

To be continued. . .

Next:

Gambit poses an important question that's not been explored to much. Yes and No, it does and does not involve her "past." Does that seem possible? Well I'll do my best to make it possible.

Rogue gives a response. And boy will you like it.

See you soon.