Rogue had spent the last few years avoiding the sun, for it was easier to travel under the cover of night when man and machine were hunting you. She did miss it, of course - she used to love sunbathing back at the mansion, sprawling out on the roof where she didn't have to worry about running into someone. But she couldn't imagine being anywhere else but the hive, she didn't know anything other than it and Atlantis.

By the time he'd returned from the bathroom, she'd sat in the armchair and removed her boots, and had taken her hair down to comb through the tangles with her fingers. She watched him remove his coat but didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say, not now that things had been set in motion.