A girl like you -- Rogue didn't bother holding back a huff of amusement. She wondered if he'd have the same assessment if he met her a few months ago. She'd certainly had enough creature of the night cracks for her Goth attire.

"The uniform's in the bag," she deadpanned. "An' a dress is just a dress."

A flirty, happy, yellow dress in this case - and at the moment, having it called it into question, she kind of missed her pleather miniskirt and corset combination. It was safer, somehow.

It doesn't change what's underneath.

And maybe that was something she had to test out for herself. Was being standoffish and defensive the only way to protect people from her skin? Was she still just as tough without the 'look at me crossways and die' demeanor?

"I felt like a walk."