Disclaimer: I don’t own the X-Men; if I did this would have been a scene in Cajun Spice, not a fanfic.

I’m not very good at descriptions, so here it is. Ever wonder what happened between the time Rogue and Gambit entered the jazz club to when we saw them sitting down together? This is my answer.

‘singles are Rogue’s thoughts.’

They hadn’t been in New Orleans very long when he brought up the idea of stopping somewhere to eat, and quite frankly, she didn’t care. The only thing she was really worried about was him. He had kidnapped her and spied on her, but yet, for some strange reason, she still liked him. All of her mind told Rogue that she should hate him, but her heart was telling her to give him a chance. “Rogue.” He said, his voice snapped her back to reality. “What?” she said back. “Wha d y wont?” Gambit asked. She had almost forgotten where she was. “Ah’ll have tha jambalaya.” She said to the waitress who was standing at they’re table. ‘Why do Ah like him so much?’ she thought as she admired the two strings of beads he’d gotten her. ‘Let’s see, he’s hot, knows exactly what to say, can kick some serious but, and is on the other team. What a catch!’ “Gambit.” She said, trying to start a conversation. “Yea, Cherie?” ‘Dang he’s good!’ “How long have ya been with Magneto?” ‘Ah’m doomed!’ “’Bout a year.” He replied. “How long have you been an X-Woman?” ‘Wow! Didn’t see that comin’!’ “’Bout two years.” She replied. “’Y wanna dance?” he asked. “What?” “I asked if ‘y wonted t dance, Rogue.” The memories came flooding back. The last time she danced, she’d wound up sending the boy into a coma. “Umm. Ah don’t know. Ah don’ think Ah should…” “Don tell meh dat you’re afraid, Rogue.” He said, almost like he knew what she was thinking. “Ah’m not afraid, Swamp Rat! Ah jus, Ah don’ wanna hurt anyone.” “’Y won’t. Come one, just dis one dance.” “Fahne, Ah’ll dance with ya.” She said as he led her onto the floor.

She couldn’t look at him, but at the same time, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Those red and black eyes were so captivating. Rogue was still in disbelief; if Jean learned of what she had just agreed to she was finished. ‘How did Ah get mahself inta this mess?’ Rogue wondered as he put his hand on her shoulder. “Dis in’d so bad, now, is I’?” He asked. “No, but Ah’m still mad at ya.” Rogue said in return. “Le’s see how angry ‘y get when I do dis.” Gambit said as she felt herself heading on a collision course with the wood floor. She then did something that she knew would get her in trouble, but at the moment it was hold on or fall; she chose to hold on. As soon as she felt herself going down, she grabbed onto him with all she could muster. “Why so tense? Gambit won’ let ‘y go.” He said. “Next time give meh some kinda warnin’ before ya do somethin’ lahke that!” Rogue said surprised. “Fine, here we go agin.” He said as he dipped her again. It was at that moment that the song stopped. A part of her wanted to leave right then and find her own way home, but the other part, the one she had tried to suppress before, was telling her to stay with this Cajun thief. That he wouldn’t hurt her. For the first time in many months, she went with her second half.
“Ya sure are a charma.” Rogue said to him. “I’ll take dat as a complement.” He replied. At this point she surveyed their surroundings. The jazz club was a good sized one with a welcoming air to it. It reminded her of a place she used to go to with Irene back when she lived in Mississippi.
“Ah forgot how much Ah really miss these kinds of places.” She said softly and, to her great surprise, happily. ‘Forgot how much Ah missed company too.’