It was really incredibly difficult for Rogue to contain her excitement at the idea of dancing with Steve. She'd grown up dancing, attending fancy parties hosted by the royalty of southern society, but she hadn't discovered her present intense love until she'd started dancing with Remy. There had been something so intimate about it, and he'd been so confident moving across the floor, that their days in New Orleans and Paris had been absolutely filled with music and dancing. Even their time at the mansion had so many nights of slow dancing in their room or on a balcony, just being close and together.

Not that was expecting to share everything with Steve that she had with Remy. That would be both silly and unfair for him, and she really did want them to have their own shared experiences. Teaching Steve would make the whole thing different right off the bat, though - she could teach him a few basics, and then if he wanted to learn a particular dance, perhaps from his era, they could certainly do that. Really, she'd love that.

Returning the kiss with affection, Rogue lost herself in the feeling of that kiss, in the taste of Steve, and she'd have been perfectly content to stay there on the couch for hours with him. Her stomach had other plans, though, which it made abundantly clear with a return of its earlier rumbling. They hadn't quite gotten to those sandwiches, had they?