...she really hated being on the welcoming committee.

"For us."

There was reckless and then there was just plain stupid, and Rogue wasn't sure what this was. But he couldn't see in mirrors and she had a feeling he wouldn't just take her word for it. Two years in Luceti had given Rogue fine motor-control over her wings, and she folded them flat against her back, their ironically angelic white feathers shimmering in the electric light as she turned.

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, frowning a little. "Don't come too close."

And she flicked one gloved hand up under her short reddish-brown hair to bare the back of her neck and reveal the bar code.