fandomhighdorms | South Attic: Locked between Beka and Rogue

Rogue knocks on the door, the sound muffled only slightly by her satin gloves--red today. She looks rather nervous.

"Hey, Rogue, if that's you, c'mon in." Her voice is cheerful, but under her breath she mutters, "ifitsanyoneelsegoaway."

"No, it's me," Rogue says as she opens the door. She steps inside the room, looking around. Her suite with Phoebe and Kitty is similar, but the personalities inside have made a huge difference. "Nice room," she says.

She wanders toward the center of the room, looking a little nervous. "I don't usually ask anyone for advice, but I thought maybe--maybe you'd be able to help me." I hope she doesn't add.

"Come. Sit." Beka pats the bed beside her. "Unless you're like me and prefer to pace?"

While she watches Rogue, wondering why the lovely girl looks so miserable, she talks to try to make her less nervous at least. "I don't usually ask for advice, and I'm definitely not one people usually ask. Though, seems like they've been doing it a lot since I got here. Not sure why. I guess I'm getting good enough at it. Weird though." She smiles encouragingly. "I'll help if I can. If not, I'll listen and maybe that will help."

[[OOC: sorry re slow play. Working *rolls eyes*. That OK?]]

Rogue sits down beside Beka. She rubs her hands together, a little nervous. "Well, you seem to be in control of your love life, and well...it looks like you're 'bout the only one I really know 'round here that is." She looks a little sad, "Neither of my roommates are." She hurridly finished, "But that's not the point."

She takes a deep breath, and decides to get it out there before she chickens out and runs to her own room. "IthinkImightbeinlovewithagirl." She shakes just a little, but looks a little relieved. "I, um, don't really know what to do. And I don't even know if I feel this way because of her, or because she didn't run away when she found out...what I do." She looks down at her hands, her fingers spread, palms up, staring at the stitching of the gloves.

[[That's fine. I'mm not even getting emails on time; stupid dialup.]]

Beka laughs at Rogue's first statement. "In control of my love life? If you mean that I can pick and choose my sex partners, I suppose that's true enough." Her tone is a little bitter. "But I seem to make a lovely hash of my relationships, with men and women. There's nothing wrong with loving another woman. Some might say it's only natural."

Poor Rogue looks so miserable, though. "Is it all right if I hug you? Will that make problems for you? I'm not coming on to you, but you look so sad."

Rogue smiles a little, trying to reassure Beka. "Yeah, you can hug me. Just, uh, carefully." She has on a long sleev shirt today, so the only skin exposed is her neck and face.

"But, that's the thing," Rogue continues, after the hug. "It's ... not. Or at least, that's what I've been told since I was little. I mean, the Church--not that I really care what the Church says," she mutters bitterly, "I just... It's not something I have any experience with. In Meridian, it's just not done."

Rogue looks at Beka, and laughs bitterly. "How ironic. A homophobic mutant. I've spent the last two years reviled, and now I'm doing the same damn thing to someone else.

"I just wish...I don't know what I wish. I wish I knew what the fuck I wanted out of life." She rubs her hands together, paying particular attention to her knuckles.

Beka takes Rogue's gloved hands, and carefully puts them on her own face. "You don't scare me, K? That's the first thing. I just didn't want to do anything that was going to hurt you."

She takes Rogue into her arms and hugs her, being careful not to let Rogue's skin touch her own. It's a little awkward, but Rogue's conscious enough of her own body that it's not dangerous. "Listen, Rogue...is that even your name? Do you like to be called that?

"Listen. Having no experience with something isn't the same thing as being afraid of it, or hating it. It's just... being new to it. Kind of like I was with you."

Very very cautiously, Beka runs a hand over the other girl's hair. "Want to tell me about her? Maybe we can sort some of this out."

Rogue gives Beka a sideways look. It's not defensive, or angry, or even scared. It's almost ... amused. "If I told you I could kill you with one touch, would you still say I don't scare you?" She shakes her head, and waves her hand. "No, don't answer that. I don't really wanna know. Really. Don't." She laughs self-consciously, clearly annoyed with herself.

"My given name is Marie. Mis abuelos call me Maria, but no one else does. Bicultural household," she explains with a shrug. "Rogue just .. uh, fits better, since I'm not so much alone upstairs," she haltingly explains. "But either's fine.

"Her name is Shane, and she works in town. She's...gorgeous, and she knows who she is and what she wants and she doesn't seem to care that I'm broken and deadly and ..." Rogue stops to take a breath, her first for a while. "I just, just don't know what to do. I don't want to think I care about someone just because they're the first person to be nice to me." She give Beka a half-smile. "That's kind of a theme with me. I have a history of latchin' onto the first person who likes me. I don't think it's healthy, considerin' one of them almost accidentally killed me."

"If I told you I could kill you with a single touch of my pulse pistol, would that scare you?" It's not mocking, just honest. "Marie, Rogue, what you can do is powerful. But you don't scare me. Just because you could kill me doesn't mean you will. And just because it would only take one touch doesn't make you scarier than Aeryn or Kara or Camulus or Angelus." With a half-hearted shrug, Beka smiles. "Sorry. Gonna have to be badder if you want to scare me away."

"Broken...deadly...yeah, that's you. But it's also me, and half the girls in this school. No? You might even say that's why we're here. But you're a lot more than broken. And Shane's probably a lot more than the first person you met who was nice to you. I know my friend CJ likes her a lot, too."

Beka has a sobering thought. About Cameron. "What makes you think you're in love with her instead of just wanting her to provide an anchor for you?"

Rogue puts her head in her hands. "I don't know. It just... feels different than with Bobby. It's more." She doesn't explain what its more of, but it makes sense nonetheless. "And, I think, I think I'm becoming my own anchor. I hope."

Beka strokes her shoulders in soothing motions. "Don't take this wrong, but... girls like you and me? We've been our own anchors entirely too long. No one else to trust." She's thinking of her conversations with the Doctor, Inara, and oddly Anakin. Jack's on her mind too, but the topic makes her nervous, so her thoughts skitter away from him. "It's OK to let other people care about you. Or so I'm told." Her tone is wry.

Rogue laughs at this. "Yeah. At least you were kind of prepared for bein' your own anchor. It was kinda thrust on me. And it sucked." She smacks herself in the forehead, laughing now. "No pun intended."

When her giggles finally subside, Rogue looks at Beka. "I just don't want to get hurt again."

Beka laughs with her, relieved to see her looking a little less glum.

When she settles, her comment strikes right to the heart of what she's been feeling. "Believe me. I know. Every time you open the door a little... it's like the foot that steps inside might kick your teeth in."

"I guess," she offers, "the real question is, whether it's worth the risk." Rogue thinks for a moment. "Is it? I want to think it is. I hope it is."

Beka sobers more at that thought. "Happiness is rare. If there's a chance, even if it's only for a little while..." She nods decisively. "Happiness, love, friendship, security...they're worth risking the pain."

"Funny thing is," Rogue murmurs, "with all the memories I have, the only one that's close to true happiness is my seventh birthday." She smiles. "My parents gave me the bike I'd begged for for weeks: pink, with a banana seat and white wicker basket, and pink streamers on the handlebars. It even had a horn, for a little while.

"I want to feel that way again. Even if it hurts in the end."

Beka smiles at that. "It's good that it's your memory, if I understand anything about your situation. I'm glad you have it. Me? No bikes. Never lived anywhere but space. Best present I ever got was these." With a shake of her head, Beka's hair goes from blonde to bright red. "Happiest memories are all of being in the black." The last words are said almost reverently.

She takes Rogue's hand again, nods. "I guess that means you have your answer."

Rogue watches Beka's hair change with wonder. "You sure you're not a mutant? I know a woman who can do that.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Now what the hell am I supposed to do about it?" she says, laughing.

Beka winces, as this strikes a little close to home. "Actually? No. Not sure. Long story involving so much time travel it makes my head hurt. My descendants who are also my contemporaries are genetically engineered. And I have no idea why they chose me." There's got to be *some* reason they picked me. "But the hair? Nanites." She shakes her head and sends it back to blonde.

"What do you want to do about it? What's the status of things now?"

"Hmm. That's interesting. Maybe if Prof. Xavier comes for parent's weekend, you could talk to him. He might know something."

"As of now, there is no thing." Rogue mutters. "Because I made there be no thing."

"You and Kitty and Anakin with the teachers!" She shakes her head, smiling. "I'd like to meet your Professor. Even if he can't help. You seem to like him and that makes him good people in my book."

Hand on Rogue's arm, Beka speaks clearly and firmly. "You don't get to say. It's not up to just you. If she has any feelings for you, there can be a thing. All you have to do is tell her you're sorry."

"All I have to do?" Rogue grin, shaking her head. "You know, that's about the hardest thing for me to do. I don't like to admit my mistakes, and I really don't like to apologize." She sighs. "But I can do it. And I will."

Beka grins. "I'm not good at it either, as you may remember."

From there the conversation descended into friendly chit-chat, mostly to help settle Rogue's nerves about what had to be done. She agreed to call Beka later and let her know how things turned out. Beka found herself hoping it turned out very well, and Rogue didn't talk to her again 'til morning.

[OOC: Hee. Hope that works.]

South Attic: Locked between Beka and Rogue

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