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The atmosphere in the mansion was always especially festive in the week just after Thanksgiving, as Christmas and Hanukkah decorations went up everywhere. The teachers were setting up matching trees on either side of the entryway, and most of the X-kids were squabbling over which ornaments they would get to put up. Kitty and Piotr were carrying armloads of greenery into each of the communal rooms, decking the windowsills and doorways. Scott and Jean followed with strands of colored lights. Scott located all of the best outlets to plug them into and calculated how many they would need to attach to achieve the most dramatic effect, and Jean used her telekinesis to levitate the lights into place. Gambit and Rogue were helping by untangling the lights that some of the younger X-kids had stored haphazardly the previous year.
Scott entered the rec room, nodding at Kitty and Piotr, who were just finishing off the doorway. He surveyed the windows. “Four strands should do it.”
“We only have two ready,” Jean responded. “We're moving faster than Gambit and Rogue can keep up.”
“You'd think a thief's fingers would move quicker,” Scott said amiably.
Rogue paused in the doorway, arms covered in neat coils of lights, to cast a warning look at Gambit, whose mouth had opened to reply. “Don't even say it.”
“Say what?” he asked, all wounded innocence.
“Any of the things that popped into your mind just now.” She glanced at Scott. “Why would you open the door that wide for…” she began, but her accompanying eye roll froze overhead. Her jaw dropped in disbelief, and she visibly winced.
Kitty gasped. “Rogue, I didn't even know we had any, I promise.”
Gambit's eyes flicked up, then narrowed. He cast a baleful look at Piotr, then strode into the room and handed off his own strands of lights to Scott.
“It is more suggestion than rule. Nobody expects you to…” Piotr swallowed the end of his sentence as he caught Kitty's eye. She put her face in her hands and shook her head.
Rogue shrugged and moved out of the doorway. “Y'all keep it up. I don't mind. It'd take more than a little mistletoe to make me kiss that scruffy mess.”
“And Gambit don’t care for any kiss that needs a push from a plant.”
“It would have to be better than your most recent kiss, comrade,” Piotr reminded him jocularly.
“Hey! That's really mean!” Kitty protested, at the same time as Gambit swore in audible French. She whipped around to see Gambit avoiding eye contact with anyone in the group. “Wait…” She looked to Rogue, whose face was flushed. “Did you two… Like…I'm sorry if…”
“Looks like I'm not in on the joke,” Rogue said, so lightly and casually that everyone else tensed. “Not that I need the sordid details of Gambit's past or present love life.” She passed her lights to Jean. “I'm gonna go untangle some more of these.”
Kitty jumped for the mistletoe, trying to take it down, but couldn't reach it. Gambit swiped it easily, crumpled it in his fist, and tossed it in Piotr’s face on his way out. “Nice, metal head.”
He followed Rogue into the library, closing the door behind him. She slumped down next to the big box of lights and fished out another tangled strand. “I got this, Cajun. You don't need to bother.”
“Cheríe…”
“I’m not mad. Seriously. Not at you. Always told you you should be with somebody besides me, didn't I?”
“Listen, chère…”
“And let ‘em have their mistletoe. Why should I ruin everybody else's fun, just because anybody I kiss winds up on the floor?”
“Rogue!” At the urgent frustration in his voice, she looked up. “I've been givin’ you the benefit of the doubt ‘cause of the shock, but now you take a breath and look me in the face and tell me you think I'm goin’ with some other woman behind your back.”
Rogue blushed. “You're right. That wasn’t fair. I'm sorry.” She sighed. “And you don't owe me the details of anybody you kissed before we…”
“Piotr was talking about our most recent kiss.”
“What? What'd you tell him?”
“Didn't tell him. He saw it for himself.”
Rogue put her hands on her temples and squeezed. “You ain't makin’ any sense.”
Gambit crossed to the couch and sat down. “Few years back, when you were possessed by Mesmero and came calling at the Brotherhood’s warehouse hangout. Knocked us all out one by one, with just one touch. Knocked me out with a kiss.”
She stared in disbelief. “I don't remember any of that.”
“Neither do I. Saw it on the security footage. Colossus was there to see it, too.”
Rogue moved up to sit beside him. “And what, y’all decided to start a secrecy pact and never tell me?”
“Wanted to tell you. Wanted to ask about it, loads of times. See if you remembered. See if it meant you wanted to kiss me. Then…the more I got to know you, the more awkward it seemed to bring it up.”
“Why?”
“Because I already knew the answer.” He smiled ruefully. “Same answer this scruffy mess would give to the same questions. No, I don't remember. And yes.” His voice softened. “Very much, yes.”
“Wish I remembered,” she whispered.
“I don't mind. Rather not remember a lady kissing me while she wasn't herself.”
“But I don't understand.” She wrung her hands together. “When I touch anybody, those moments…those people…they get stuck in my head. That's why the Professor and I spend so much time together. Not just trying to get control of my powers; trying to get all that mental stuff under control and block out all the parts I don't want up there.”
“Maybe under Mesmero's control you could split the mental and physical sides of your powers. Kind of like how Jean can use telekinesis and telepathy separately. Or maybe Mesmero did you a favor and wiped your mind for you. Trust me, you wouldn't want Pyro living in your head. You'd never have a quiet thought again.”
Rogue looked sick. “I kissed Pyro, too? Did I make out with the whole Brotherhood?”
“Non. Only kissed me. Pyro was always pretty huffy over that. Think he was jealous.”
Rogue sighed.
“Hey. Consider yourself lucky you didn't get any of my memories. Just from New Orleans, must be a fair bit of Remy you've had to block out.”
She closed her eyes. “You're still there. I like you there.”
Gambit watched her put conscious effort into breathing easily, and his heart twisted. “I’d like to remember kissing you. But maybe…maybe if I don't, you could remember for both of us.”
Rogue's eyes snapped open. Gambit hadn't moved any closer.
“I wouldn't,” he reassured her. “Not without an invitation.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn't be a real kiss. I mean, I could only touch you for a second, and you'd be out like a light for a good half an hour.”
Gambit grinned. “A good half an hour. I'm game if you are. Been through it before with no more than a bit of a headache and a whole lot of questions.” He reached toward her. She recoiled instinctively, then did a double-take.
“What'd you do to those gloves, anyway?”
“You like?” He held up a hand. His thumb, index finger, and pinky finger were exposed, but the other two fingers were completely covered.
“Seems like your usual fingerless gloves would work just fine for keeping off the chill in this drafty old building. Besides, you don't usually wear gloves at all when we're not on a mission.”
“Tryin’ ‘em out.” He tilted the covered fingers forward, careful to display them to her as he moved them slowly to push her hair behind her ear. “Figured you don't have to be the only one around here making concessions.” He traced the line of her jaw. “Don't worry about any of it, chère. We'll make our own memories…in our own time, not anybody else's.”
She stared at him for a long, silent moment, then came to a decision. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“If you wanna be a fool, who am I to stop you?” She hopped off the couch, pointing authoritatively to forestall his automatic move to follow. “Stretch yourself out.”
“Chère?”
“If we're gonna do this, I'm not having you fall off this couch and bust your stubborn neck. Lie down.”
“Your rules.” He settled himself onto the couch, and she sat beside him.
“You're not sane, you know that.”
“You love it.”
“Well.” She punched him in the shoulder. “If you don't wake up in half an hour, I'll kill you on purpose.”
“When I wake up in half an hour, I'll want a full report.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
She leaned down, then grimaced. “I feel like I'm your mama getting ready to kiss you goodnight. Besides, look at you, legs all stretched over the edge of the couch. You'll get blood clots or something.”
Gambit laughed. “I'm not that much older than you.” He reached for her hand and placed it against his heart. “Pumping away. Blood won't have any time to clot.”
“It's beating fast. Too fast, maybe.”
“Mon cœur, you know that ain't from a medical condition. But if the mood’s not there, that's just fine. Heart may be in a hurry, but we got all the time in the world.” He swung his legs off the couch and moved to sit up.
“Wait. Kick off your shoes and curl up a bit.”
“You didn't say ‘Simon Says,’” he answered calmly, but did as he had been told. Rogue got down on her knees next to the couch.
“Anything else you wanna tell me?” she asked as he lay on his side, head pillowed on one arm, gazing at her with humor dancing in his eyes. “Before I might find out on my own? Old girlfriends, dark secrets, anything like that?”
“Old girlfriends you may find. With all the reasons they're ‘old’ girlfriends.” He put a hand over hers where it lay on the couch beside him. “Never met anybody strong as you.” He smirked. “Or as beautiful, if I were gonna be shallow about it.”
He tightened his grip as his face fell. “Some dark secrets, too, absolument. You know some of my past already. Wasn't much interested in the straight and narrow before meeting you. I regret loads of things.”
“So do I. Let's hope this doesn’t add to our lists.” She cupped a gloved hand against his face. “You're…?”
“I'm sure.” She took a deep, shaky breath, and he laughed. “You get to drive, chère. Not gonna make a move in your direction ‘less you ask for it.”
“Probably not a good idea. For you to move. I mean…you're probably used to…more contact, and definitely faster. I don't know…”
“Rogue.” She startled. “I trust you. Do, or don't do, whatever it is you need. I'm content just lying here staring into those emerald eyes of yours.”
She leaned in quickly and kissed him for a millisecond, rocking back on her heels to survey the damage. He blinked at her. She gasped. “You're not…”
“Those sessions with the Professor must be doing more good than you thought,” he said. “Any memories of mine join yours just now?”
She thought carefully. “None.” Her eyes sparkled. “That's never happened before. I've always started absorbing immediately, even for that short a time. You do remember New Orleans.”
“Maybe the difference is you didn't want to touch me in New Orleans.”
Rogue huffed a laugh. “You kidding? And you the most touchable-looking man I've ever seen? If we're gonna be shallow about it?”
He grinned. “All I'm hearing is that just now you didn't kiss me long enough. Permission to make a move?” At her nod, he reached in her direction, and she met him halfway.
Five seconds later, Rogue climbed onto the couch beside an unconscious Gambit, curling her back against him so he wouldn't brush against any bare skin on her face or neck if he shifted while unconscious, especially if she fell asleep waiting for him to wake up.
She didn't think that was a particular danger, though. She had psychic impressions to review. Her breath caught at how stunningly beautiful she was to him, how absorbing in ways that had nothing to do with her powers. How much he wanted her to have him in her mind reminding her of it. How much he wanted her to know he didn't need to touch her to enjoy every minute he spent with her.
How much he loved her.
He didn't even know that last bit yet. It was tucked behind a wall she'd barely gotten a glimpse over, somewhere mixed up with memories of a blond woman that were all tainted with betrayal.
Rogue pulled his arm over her shoulder. “Remy LeBeau,” she muttered. “White Devil. Prince of Thieves. Just as scared as I am.”
Half an hour later, Kitty stuck her head into the library. “Rogue? You okay? We could use some more lights, but only if…” She stopped short at Gambit’s steady stare and slight shake of the head. He held Rogue cradled in his arms. She was sound asleep.
“Oh. Well. We can take a break from decorating.” Kitty began to back out, then returned. “Piotr’s really sorry.”
“Thanks,” he murmured softly. Rogue stirred, and Kitty hurried away and closed the door.
Gambit made quiet soothing noises. “Hush, now. I'm here. Alive and quite well.”
Rogue clutched at his arms. “Don’t suppose the room is spinning a little to you?”
“Only metaphorically,” Gambit responded, with a hint of concern in his voice. “We need to get you to Dr. McCoy or the Professor?”
“No. It's happened before. Just not this bad.”
“Don't scare me. I'm having a real good afternoon.”
Rogue released him and put her hands to her scalp, massaging gently. “I'm not used to holding back my powers. It's like…using a psychic muscle or something. Every time it's worked when I've practiced with the Professor, I've gotten dizzy and a little headachy.” She paused. “‘Course, I've only done taps on the wrist with him, and that with him helping hold my powers back. Ain't never flexed so hard as I did just a bit ago.”
“And what a flex it was,” Gambit added, bringing his gloved fingers to her scalp.
“Guess I was sufficiently motivated,” she replied, her tone verging on exuberant. “You remember anything?”
“Two of the best seconds of my life.”
“So you don't remember the last two or three seconds. Okay.”
“A woman of many talents. Don't know if I could kiss and keep time at once.”
“If we ever try this again, you might want to learn how to do that.”
“You offer some mighty strong motivation.”
She rolled over to face him. “How long was that kiss you got on camera?”
“Maybe as long as the first one you gave me today.”
“And do you remember me draining you in New Orleans?”
“That I do.”
Rogue sat up, and Gambit followed.
“So there's some variability to the memory loss once the power drain starts. Maybe it's related to focus, either way; you brushed my ear by accident that time…” She rounded on him. “You'll help me practice? With Professor X?”
“That might be a little strange.”
“Not like this, obviously,” she clarified. “Working toward something like…I don't know…” She slid her gloved fingers under his and guided their hands up so they were facing each other, palm to palm, as though they had started a high five and got stuck halfway. “Like this. Or holding hands. Or, I don't know…something without the gloves.”
Gambit's eyes glowed. “Anything you like. I'm game.”
“Come on. He's usually in his study about now.” She stood up and swayed. Gambit caught her by the wrists.
“Not now; you're still recovering from a bit ago.” He stood up with her and put his arms around her, steadying her against his chest. “And I ain't in any kind of rush. You know that?”
She smiled, echoes of him playing on repeat in her mind. “I know.”
They stood there a few minutes, Gambit breathing slowly and steadily until Rogue was effortlessly breathing in sync with him. “Okay?”
“Okay,” she confirmed.
He released her, keeping a cautious eye on her for a moment until she nodded in affirmation that she wasn't going to collapse. He nodded back, grinning. “Let's go find the others. Let Piotr know we haven't been plotting to kill him.”
“Kill him?” Rogue tapped Gambit's chest over his heart on her way to pick up the box of lights. “Might throw him a parade.”