Rogue smiled as she watched the ball of fire hover above the boy's hand. She wondered why her mutation couldn't have been something more ... useful. Like that. She heard the boy next to her make some disapproving noise, and the ball of fire turned into a ball of ice. Startled, the boy in front of her dropped it.
"John." The teacher's voice held a warning.
"Sorry."
But he didn't sound sorry. Rogue smiled. The boy beside her who had frozen John's fire, had put an ice-rose on her desk. "Welcome to Mutant High. I'm Bobby."
"Rogue," she'd replied. But John held her interest...not Bobby.
** ** **
"I don't want to hurt you." She rested her hands on John's chest, gently. She could feel his quickened heart beat beneath her gloved hand, through the fabric of his worn tee-shirt.
"We'll find a way around it." He leaned in, despite her protest, and he kissed her lips. Softly, quickly, but demanding all the same.
She moaned as she felt his heat flooding through her, and she closed her eyes. He'd drawn away before she'd pulled much of him, but what she'd felt was amazing. The fire ... so hot, so chaotic. But she (well, he, but she, for just that moment) could control it. Bend it to her will. It was almost ... erotic in the intensity. All too soon, his power fled her.
** ** **
She should have stopped it sooner. She knew that. But she'd been fascinated, almost as fascinated as he was, watching the fire burn the lawn, the cars, the house. How it danced, how it defied everyone but him.
When she realized he was reveling in the destruction, she knew she had to stop him. It wasn't time yet. She reached out, grabbing his ankle, drawing the flames back to her, to them, with her free hand. She felt the heat all around her, inside of her, but never burning her, never too hot for her.
It was glorious.
** ** **
"Why'd you stop me?" They were alone in the jet. Waiting. Waiting for the adults to come back. Well, Bobby was there, but he was keeping his distance. Mourning. John's voice (Pyro, now, he insisted he was Pyro) was pitched low, to not carry.
"They were innocent. Just doing their job." Her gloved hand reached for his, fingers lacing together. "I didn't want them to die."
He was silent, but she didn't expect an answer to that. "I'm going."
"Going? What? Where? They told us to stay here."
"You always do what you're told?" He pulled his hand from hers, and started down the ramp. She hesitated, but only a moment before she followed. She wasn't sure if it was to call him back, or to go with him.
She was fairly sure it was the latter.
** ** **
They stood together at the treeline, watching. Her fingers were laced with his, squeezing his hand tightly for support. Motion, commotion, clatter and noise caught her attention - his, too - and they looked toward it.
It seemed the mission had been (somewhat) successful. Magneto and Mystique were cutting across the snow, though they paused their steps, nearly simultaneously, attention shifting to the trees.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, Magneto called over to them. "Did you get lost?" She heard the mock in his tone (the same mockery when he'd told Pyro he was a god among insects), and her shoulders slid back.
"No." The word was sharp, defiant.
Pyro said nothing. He just looked at Magneto.
"I'm not waiting all day." Magneto turned to continue after Mystique, who had already started toward the helicopter.
Rogue glanced to Pyro, but he was already on the move. She hesitated, but not for long, trotting to catch up with him.
** ** **
She'd been aware of Magneto's gaze on her, most of the flight. "I'm not here for you," she spat, tired of his silent assessment.
"I wouldn't dream of such a thing." He feigned shock, but she heard that same arrogant mock in his voice, before he continued in a softer tone. "But you aren't here for him, either."
She had no answer to that. She wasn't here for Pyro. She was here for herself. She turned deep, dark eyes to Magneto, and she nodded. "No. I'm not here for him, either."
He smiled. She thought he looked ... almost proud. Her attention drifted away from him, though not for long.
Never for long.