Marian Carlyle | Rogue (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} notmaidmarian) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} toboldlyrpg, |
In all honesty, Rogue hadn't really thought Napoleon would actually show up, so she'd been amused when he had and that he'd made his desire to get into her pants pretty clear. She'd turned him down, a tad bit flattered, but she really hadn't had any desire to sleep with him, or, well, anyone else who wasn't Remy. Flirting was in her wheelhouse for sure, but she didn't have any real intentions of actually following through. And even if she did, there wasn't really anyone around that she was attracted to who might be able to handle her powers.
And so she was heading for the lounge. Despite B'elanna having fixed her suit, she didn't wear it too often on the Enterprise, because people there were pretty good at respecting personal boundaries. Instead, she dressed the same way she always had before when not in a uniform of some kind - tight pants, a short sleeved top and if she wasn't wearing a jacket, gloves that went up to her elbows. As she walked into the bar, she glanced around idly, pushing back her hair, the white streak in the front mixing in with the darker strands.
When she spotted Illya, Rogue smiled and headed over to drop lightly into the seat across from him, gloved hands lightly tapping the top of the table. "Hey sugar," she drawled, eyes bright. Nodding to the glass closest to her, she tilted her head. "That for me?"