Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Valle Soleada Vignettes
Stats:
Published:
2025-06-20
Words:
1,513
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
34
Kudos:
67
Bookmarks:
7
Hits:
410

“You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed”

Summary:

Sometimes the smallest of things are the biggest of secrets, and revealing them can be harder than you'd think.
Rogue and Gambit, powerless and living together in Valle Soleada, finally have the space to learn the little things about each other that make a big difference.
Written for the 'Revealing Secrets' prompt for Day 6 of Rogue & Gambit Week 2025.

Notes:

For the Little Prince reference, see X-23 (2010) #10.

Work Text:

               Rogue watched on from the doorway as Remy gave the kids their bedtime story.

               It wasn’t what she had had on her agenda when they’d agreed to babysit Jack and Paint’s children while they were on their well-earned date night; but Kayden and Marnie had insisted – “Dad always tells us a bedtime story!” had been the refrain – and Remy had finally relented.

               “D’accord, I give you a story, but only if you promise dat I get t’choose de story.”

               They’d enthusiastically agreed – tempted more by the novelty of a fresh face telling a new tale more than anything – and so Remy had taken his seat next to Marnie’s bed with a comical kind of aplomb.

               Rogue had headed to the nursery to check the baby was still asleep in her crib…

               And then had come back to this cute little tableau, Remy enthusiastically mimicking a plane in flight with one hand, the kids listening with rapt attention.

               It was a sight Rogue had never seen before, not with this man she found it strange to now call her lover. Her sweetheart. Her boyfriend. No word seemed to describe the length and breadth of their relationship satisfactorily, but now that they were here, in this place, together… she wasn’t inclined to analyse it. It was what it was, and she was happy not to put a label on it.

               Back with the X-Men there had been so much drama, so much pressure to play the superhero that there had never been time to sit with oneself and just be. Her powers had defined her. Her idealism and dedication to Xavier’s dream had consumed her. Now she was here, living a normal life, powerless, able to touch. She had a home, she had friends, and a partner to share it all with her.

               Together they would feel out the days and one another; and she relished every moment of it.

               Even little things like this, the ease with which he wove his tale for these two ravenous and imaginative little souls.

               “Draw me a sheep!” he parroted off his story in a tone of voice she’d never heard before; and the kids laughed with delight.

               She slipped away quietly, smiling widely, and went to put on the kettle.

 

               He joined her in the lounge later, settling down onto the sofa next to her.

               “Kids okay?” she asked, handing him his hot chocolate, a staple of colder climes she found hard to let go of.

               “Fast ‘sleep already. Watchu watchin’?”

               “Castle in the Sky. Been gettin’ into those Miyazaki films lately.”

               “Film? Looks like a cartoon.”

               “Shh. Just watch it.”

               He didn’t argue, merely slinging an arm round her shoulder and pulling her in a little closer. Such a simple gesture she could never get enough of! This was cosy. This was nice.

               “You’re good with kids, y’know,” she felt compelled to say. “You were tellin’ that story like a pro.”

               He laughed softly.

               “Well, y’know… were a lot of kids runnin’ round the Thieves Guild when I was growin’ up. Was like one big family.”

               Yes – he was used to families. Even when he’d been on the sidelines at the mansion, he’d always slipped in and out of the crowd with ease. Joined in with his silver tongue and his slick smiles, handling the ebb and flow of personal interaction with casual effortlessness. As a single child for whom family had always been transient or transactional, these were lessons that had been harder and far more awkward for her to learn.

               “What was that story you were tellin’ them?” she quizzed him curiously. “It sounded familiar…”

               “Le Petit Prince,” he replied with a small smile. “The Little Prince. One of my favourites.”

               She gazed up at him, surprised. A kid’s book, one of his favourites?

               “Your dad read it to ya?”

               “Pfft!” He looked tickled. “Non. Stole it. Loved it ever since.” He paused, said in a lower tone, “‘You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.’”

               There was an odd kind of reverence to his tone. She stared at the line of his jaw, the swell of his mouth.

               “That your mantra?”

               The earnestness in him was gone. He looked down on her with a grin.

               “It’s a line from the book.”

               “Sounds awful deep for a kid’s book.”

               “Well,” he shrugged, “sometimes grown ass adults can learn a lot from kid’s books.” He nodded towards the TV. “Like dis cartoon.”

               She smiled, nodded.

               She had meant to tease him for having named a kid’s book as one of his favourites, but somehow she couldn’t.

               “You feel like I tamed you, sugar?” she joked instead. “You gonna cry ‘bout it?”

               He laughed.

               “Was a time I thought I might’a done,” he admitted. “Actually,” he continued thoughtfully, “dat’s a lie. Think I cried already. Cried a lot, mebbe. Never wanted t’be tamed – least I thought I didn’t. Not ‘til I tamed my rose back.”

               She wasn’t used to this – his cryptic sensitivity. It made her a little nervous.

               “What, you comparin’ me to a rose now?” she scoffed, to ease that sudden nervousness. And just like that, regular Remy was back, his insouciant grin returned.

               “You gotta read dis book, chere,” was all he said.

               Together they watched the movie for a few more moments in comfortable silence.

               “Ain’t it crazy?” she mused out loud. “We’ve known each other for years, but here I feel like I learn something new about you every day.” She thought on that a second. “Why is that?”

               He chuckled.

               “Never lived together before, chere.”

               “Yes, we did. At the mansion.”

               “That was different.”

               “I s’ppose.” She blew a white forelock out of her face. “So, who’d you steal that book from?”

               “What book?”

               “The Little Prince. I hope it wasn’t from some poor kid.”

               He grinned.

               “Wasn’t a ‘who’ I stole it from, chere. Was a ‘where’.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Stole it from the library.”

               She pretended to look shocked.

               “So you stole it from a whole community of children!”

               “Was a kid m’self, chere. Kids are selfish li’l rougaroux.”

               “Hm.” She pouted, still studying his face, as if she could read everything about him there. “Got anymore scandalous secrets t’tell me, sugar?”

               He gave a wicked smirk, set aside his mug, and shifted round to face her.

               “How ‘bout you tell me somethin’ ‘bout yourself for a change,” he suggested playfully.

               “Like what?”

               “Well, I know a lotta things about you now, chere. I know you holler every time you wax, and you like all’a them fancy arthouse movies you’re always watchin’, but… How ‘bout you tell me somethin’ ‘bout yourself I don’t know.”

               Truth be told, she was still an amateur at this. Honesty was easy with fists and bravado, and she was a natural with those things. But honesty from the heart… she’d rather run than be open wide and vulnerable with her feelings. And she felt a lot. Nevertheless, he teased truths out of her like it was second nature to him. He always had done. There was a time she had fought it. Not anymore.

               “Look,” she began seriously, deciding to take the plunge and just go for it, “I know you once told me that ya didn’t need t’know this, but I’mma tell ya anyway.” She took a deep breath. “My name’s Anna-Marie.”

               There was a pause; and then his face slowly lit up, not in the mocking way she had feared, but with delight.

               “Anna-Marie, huh?” he echoed.

               “But please, call me Anna,” she rushed on before he could come up with some witty remark. “I hate Anna-Marie, and I ain’t used that name since I was thirteen, but Anna is okay, I can deal with Anna, and I figure if I’m gonna get a job an’ all I might as well take ‘Anna’ outta retirement, y’know—”

               “Hey, hey, hey!” he cut in quickly, taking hold of her face between his palms; and she stopped, stared up into his eyes, and he said: “Rogue. It’s okay.”

               Did he mean it? She wasn’t sure. It was such a small thing, and she felt stupid for feeling so fragile about it, but… Did he mean it? Was it okay?

               And he smiled.

               A small, generous, loving smile.

               “I’ll jes’ carry on callin’ you ‘Rogue’ if’n you want me to,” he said. “Hell, I’ll call you anythin’ you want. But for what it’s worth… ‘Anna’ is beautiful. Jes’ like you. And I like it jes’ fine.”

               He smoothed the hair from her face tenderly… And her heartbeat began to slow. She felt silly that there were tears pricking the back of her eyes.

               “Remy and Anna,” he added, a mischievous little tilt catching at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds good, neh?”

               She choked back happy tears and nodded. For some reason, the name didn’t sound so offensive to her anymore.

               “Remy and Anna,” she repeated on a whisper; and somehow the tears were falling.

 

               And suddenly she understood why he loved that one little line so much.

-END-

Series this work belongs to: