A Touch of the Blues...part 5
      
      Author: vangiekitty 



Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men, and I make no money from these stories.
 
 
                        A Touch of the Blues part 5 by vangiekitty
 
Continued from part 4...
 
      Hank was heading for the lab, meaning to check on a few experiments before 
he turned in, when passing by Rogues door, he heard the sound of soft weeping.  
The sound was quiet, yet so full of despair and hopelessness that it caught at 
his heart.  He hesitated.  Surely it was none of his business, Rogue wouldn't 
want anyone intruding, would she?  But he was a friend -- her friend and nothing 
more.  He blushed at the thoughts he had been entertaining earlier and it almost 
kept him from knocking at her door.  But he thought, 
      "I'm still her friend no matter what.  I'm not going to let my own 
ridiculous, unrequited feelings keep me from trying to help her!"  Hank squared 
his shoulders and knocked at her door.  The weeping sounds stopped immediately, 
as if cut off with a knife.
 
      "Rogue?"  He asked, tentatively.
 
      "Hank?"  The voice that answered was equally tentative.
 
      "May I come in?"  He asked.
 
      "Sure... I guess."
 
      "I don't mean to intrude," he explained, stepping into the room.  "But I 
heard some sounds and thought you might be in distress..."
      He broke off to look around.  He had never been in Rogues room before and 
was intrigued to see what it looked like.  On one end of the room was a large 
picture window with a window seat underneath it.  Across the seat dozens of what 
looked like colorful, handmade crocheted pillows were scattered.  The other side 
of the room was dominated by a raised dais on which sat a queen sized Princess 
canopy bed with a duvet of antique lace and climbing roses pattern.  Instead of 
conventional curtains hanging down from the bars above the bed, long gauzy 
pieces of material draped gracefully to the floor.  Within the silky cocoon, 
Hank could see Rogue huddled with something clutched tightly to her chest.  Her 
knees were drawn up to her chin, and her eyes were red from weeping.  To Hank, 
she looked like a frightened little girl in need of comfort.  Slowly, he 
approached her bed.
 
      "I hope you don't mind," he began again.
 
      "Course not, Sugah.  You're always welcome.  C'mon."  She patted the bed 
to indicate where he should sit.
 
      A bit awkwardly, Hank drew one of the flimsy gauze bed hangings aside and 
sat gingerly on Rogues bed, which only creaked a little in protest at his bulk.  
The furniture at the X-Men mansion tended to be built strong -- it had to be to 
survive.
 
      "Would you like to talk about it, my dear?"  He asked gently, searching 
her tear stained face for the reason she had been weeping.
 
      "Aw, Hank.  I don't know."
 
      He hazarded a guess, " Was it the movie?  It upset you because it was too 
frightening?"
 
      "Oh, it was frightenin' all right, Sugah.  But not the way ya mean."
 
      "Well then tell me, please Rogue.  I feel terrible for recommending a 
movie that upset you so dreadfully."  He laid one large blue hand on her gloved 
arm and the small kindness seem to undo her.
 
      "Aw... Hank."  She started to cry again.  "You'll think I'm silly.  It's 
just that I feel like that man in the movie.  Like I'm a ghost.  I can't touch 
anyone, can't change anything..."
 
      "My dear, that is so untrue!  You have had a profound effect on me and you 
have touched me deeply."
 
      "Have I?  Did I?"  She smiled weakly.  "That's nice ta hear, Hank."
 
      "Absolutely, my dear.  Your friendship has meant so much to me these last 
few weeks."
      Rogues face crumpled.
 
      "Yeah, a friend.  That's all I am to ya, Hank.  All I can ever be."  She 
buried her face in her arms and sobbed.  Hank was shocked--his brain felt numb.  
Was it possible?  Was Rogue saying what he thought she was saying?  Did she want 
more than just his friendship?
 
      "Rogue, do I understand you correctly?  Are you wishing for a... Romantic 
relationship between us?"
 
      "Yeah, ya big lug!  Course I am!  I was flirtin' with ya tonight, didn't 
ya get the message?"
 
      Hank blushed as he remembered his thoughts and feelings earlier that 
evening when Rogues head had been resting on his knee.
      "Ah -- yes, actually.  Loud and clear.  But I thought I must be mistaken."
 
      Rogue rolled her eyes in exasperation.  "What do I have ta do, Sugah?  Get 
up and start performin' a strip tease?"
 
      Hank blushed even harder.  "No -- ah -- that will not be necessary my 
dear.  I -- ah," he cleared his throat, trying to think of how to continue.
 
      "You're flattered but ya don't feel the same."  Rogue finished for him.  
"That's all right, Sugah -- I understand." Her face twisted sorrowfully.
 
      "No, Rogue, you don't understand."  Hank said firmly.  "Please listen to 
me before you start assuming things."
 
      Rogue looked up and her face brightened a little.  "I'm listenin'."  She 
said simply.
 
      "First of all, I had no idea you even felt this way until tonight.  In 
fact, I have been..." he fumbled for words.  "Enamored of you ever since the 
first night we went for coffee together.  The first night we really talked."    
 
      Rogues face was positively glowing.  "Our first midnight coffee session!"
 
      "Indeed.  I have been fighting my feelings ever since then."  Hank 
explained.
 
      "Fightin' em?  Why Sugah, what ever for?"
 
      "I thought you still had feelings for Gambit."  Rogue made a face.  "And 
later," he continued, "I, well… I just wasn't sure if you could care for someone 
with my... physical attributes."
 
      "Physical attributes?"  Rogue looked surprised.  "Hank, Sugah, I thought 
ya were all over that by now.  After all, ya dated Trish..."
 
      "Trish was more interested in getting an inside scoop than anything else.  
I just happened to be a handy way to get it."
 
      "Oh Hank, no!"
 
      Even to Hank's ears, he sounded bitter.  "Oh yes, it's the absolute truth. 
 When I finally realized it, we had a serious disagreement and then..." he 
shrugged.  "Well, how can you end a relationship that was barely there to begin 
with?  Trish tolerated me as she tolerated my appearance, only so long as it 
benefited herself."
 
      "Well I do a lot more than tolerate your appearance, Hank.  I like the way 
ya look." She affirmed gently.
 
      "How can you say that, Rogue?  Hank's eyes were sad.  "I'm covered in blue 
fur, for God's sake."
 
      "Uh-huh.  I haven't forgotten.  A very special color blue as I recall."  
Rogue opened her arms to let him see the object she had been clutching to her.  
It was an old, ragged remnant of a blue velvet blanket.  The color matched 
Hank's fur exactly.
 
      Hank's eyes softened.  "Would this be the illustrious Bilbo blanket?"  He 
inquired with a smile.
 
      "The one and only."  Rogue assured him.  "I've always loved this shade of 
blue.  Very soothing.  But listen Hank," she looked up into his eyes to gather 
his full attention.  "I told ya I had a little thing for ya when I first met ya, 
but I didn't tell ya the whole story."
 
      "There's more?"
 
      "Uh-huh.  Let's see, how can I explain this?  Well, did I ever tell you  
what my favorite fairy tale was as a kid?"
 
      "Uh- Sleeping Beauty?"
 
      "Nope."
 
      "Rumplestilskin?"
 
      Rogue laughed.  "Wrong again, Sugah.  It was Beauty and the Beast, of 
course!"
 
      "And why was that?"  Hank asked quietly.
 
      "Don't know.  Maybe cause my Daddy was the big muscular, hairy guy.  I 
sorta grew up thinkin' that's how men were s’posed ta be."
 
      "So you pictured yourself as the beautiful Princess, rescuing the poor 
beast from his sad enchantment and turning him back into a normal man again?"   
Hank's eyes were hard, but Rogue didn't seem to notice.
 
      "Not at all, Sugah.  I mean, of course I was the beautiful princess, that 
goes without sayin'."  Her eyes were dreamy.  "But in my fantasies, the fairy 
tale just went on and on and never came to an end."  She frowned thoughtfully.
"Because the ending was the one part I didn't understand.  The one part of the 
story I didn't get, you know?"
 
      Hank nodded but looked puzzled.
 
      "Cause Beauty has this gorgeous, big, hairy beast all to herself in an 
empty castle.  Why would she want ta turn him into an ordinary, borin' man?"  
She sighed and smiled up at him.  "When I was a little girl, I used to pretend 
to myself that it never ended -- That Beauty and the Beast just kept wandering 
around that big empty castle having adventures for ever and never changin'.  I 
must've read that story every night for three years."
 
      "Precocious, weren't you?"  Hank said dryly, but with a grin.
 
      "You don't know the half of it, Sugah. I guess I've always loved fairy 
tales."  She paused.  "Then when I was 12, I discovered Robin McKinley's book, 
Beauty.  Have ya read it?"
 
      "In fact I did.  After my... failed experiment, I read many such books.  I 
considered them somewhat therapeutic.  As I recall, McKinley humanizes the beast 
most charmingly, does she not?"
 
      "Yes Sugah, she does.  It's a lovely book.  Anyway," Rogue smiled.  "At 
about the same time, I also got hold of the Sleeping Beauty series by Anne 
Rice."
 
      Hank tisked disapprovingly.  "You were 12 at the time?  That was much too 
young to be reading that series, it's extremely dark erotica!"
 
      "I know," Rogue shrugged elegantly and blushed a little, laying her cheek 
on her knees, which were still pulled up to her chin.  "It was kinda an 
accident, really.  I was readin' most anything that looked like a fairy tale at 
that age.  My, was I surprised when I got those books home!"
 
      Hank raised his eyebrows.  "I'm sure."
 
      "Anyway," Rogue hesitated.  "The two stories... kinda got mixed up in my 
mind.  I started ta have a strange, recurring dream.  It frightened me, but it 
intrigued me too.  In it, I was Beauty, and it also involved the Beast; I still 
have it sometimes.  Ya catchin' my drift here, Hank?"
 
      "I believe so."  Hanks voice was carefully neutral.  
 
      "When I first met you..." Rogue paused.  "Well, it was almost too strange. 
 I hadn't had the dream in quite a long while.  But the sight of you... well- it 
all came rushin' back.  I didn't know what ta think or how ta feel.  I wanted ta 
know you better, but I was scared -- intimidated."  She sighed.  "I still don't 
know if I was more relieved or disappointed when it became clear you weren't 
available.  You were always busy with one experiment or another.  And then, 
there was Trish..." her voice trailed away.
 
      "And for you there was Gambit."
 
      She nodded, acknowledging the truth of it.  "Between one thing in another, 
I never got ta know ya -- really know ya, till a few weeks ago.  And look what 
I've been missin'."  She smiled.  "I could just kick myself!"
 
      "As could I." Hank said was feeling.  "Kick myself I mean, not you my 
dear."  He smiled back at her and drew closer to her on the bed, looking deeply 
into her vivid green eyes.  Her cheek was still pillowed on her knees, and she 
glanced up at him.  It was a charming little sideways glance that pierced his 
heart.
      "Oh, Rogue."  He breathed.  "Knowing this, understanding that you feel for 
me as I feel for you... How I wish... that is- I just wish that I could kiss you 
right now."
 
      Rogue smiled, but it was a smile filled with an infinite depth of sadness.
      "I know Sugah.  I wish ya could too."  Her eyes squeeze shut and a single 
tear rolled slowly down one creamy, flushed cheek.
 
      Hank was immediately sorry.  Why had he said such as stupid thing?  Of 
course he could never kiss her... But the sight of that one tear was too much.  
Without thinking what he was doing, Hank, the analytical scientist, acted purely 
out of emotion instead of logic.  He didn't stop to weigh the consequences, he 
simply acted on his feelings and reaching out, he cupped Rogue's cheek in one 
large palm and brushed away the single tear with his thumb.
      It was a gesture of friendship and more than friendship.  It was a gesture 
of hope, and understanding, and sympathy.  It was a gesture of love and it 
should have killed him... except it didn't.
 
      Rogue eyes flew open to acknowledge the truth of the situation.  Hank's 
large, warm palm still cupped her cheek, and... and nothing was happening!  Hank 
was OK!  He wasn't dying, and she wasn't absorbing his thoughts, emotions or 
life force.
They froze for a moment, unable to grasp the situation.  At last, Rogue spoke,
 
      "Hank... you touched me!"
 
Continued in Part 6