Captive Hearts
Author's Notes:
Like all my X-men fanfic, this one is generally based on the characters as they appear in "X-men: The Animated Series". But as usual, I have taken some liberties: Bobby is based more on the movie-version, and I borrowed some of the characters who worked for Stryker in the "Wolverine Origins" movie, though in this 'verse, Victor and Logan aren't related and don't have a history.
As with most of my fics, the pairings I write about here are Rogue/Remy, Jean/Scott, Storm/Logan, Bobby/Northstar – and one pairing I haven't written before.
This fic doesn't have anything to do with the XTAS episode "Captive Hearts"; I'm just using the title as a tribute to the show I have loved for years.
Thank you to Slickboy for encouraging me over the years to keep writing, and to Jo the Phoenix for the beta testing!
Remy LeBeau's day now begins at 6:30 a.m. sharp. Every weary bone and muscle in his body protests at rising from his slim bed at this hour, but he doesn't have a choice. The lights turn on, and the wake-up call sounds. He lies on his back, determined to enjoy one minute more of sleep. Logan, who hasn't slept much since the X-men were incarcerated, climbs down from the upper bunk.
"Time to get up, sleeping beauty," Logan grumbles.
"Don't know what worse," Remy says, sitting up in bed. "Bein' in jail here or startin' every day wit' your face".
The banter is actually light-hearted and well-intentioned. Remy and Logan have been with the X-men for years now, and the team as a whole has been through a lot. Even Logan and Scott have a grudging respect for and tolerance of each other. Everyone seems to have a tacit understanding that, with so much of the world against them, they need to stick together. No question about that. As he kisses the picture of Rogue on the shelf next to his bunk, Remy muses that the team has been a better family to him than anyone else in his life. His years in New Orleans, with the Guild, feel like another lifetime. A lifetime that didn't involve such early mornings.
The bathroom contains a row of 6 urinals, 4 stalls, and then around the corner, communal showers. Toothpaste and toothbrushes are stored there. Remy uses the facilities, and then strips off his clothing for a shower although he leaves his flip-flops on. He's shivering. The showers usually have hot or lukewarm water, but the building which contains their beds and bathroom is chilly, and only getting colder as autumn prepares to fade into winter.
"Fifteen minutes till breakfast, mutants!" a guard says sternly. Guards are stationed throughout the large complex and they enter every morning when the X-men's wake-up call sounds. They carry weapons which they are unafraid to use. Bishop's arm is still in a sling from an ill-advised move he made a few weeks ago, and Warren's black eye is just beginning to heal. The X-men's attempts at escape have been futile, as none of the X-men's powers work here. Professor Xavier does not know what technology makes this possible, and wonders if it was somehow appropriated and refined from Sinister's set-up in the Savage Lands.
Remy turns the dial and feels the water help revive him. He grabs the small bar of soap on the ledge. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Bobby, already finishing his shower and reaching for a towel – the man showers more quickly than anyone Remy has seen. Hank is assisting the Professor. Kurt is last to arrive in the shower area. Remy assumes he was praying and wishes his prayers would free the X-men.
Remy wraps a towel around his waist and walks back to his bunk. Laundry is regularly done here; he has several clean pairs of socks and underwear to choose from. He then dons his uniform, which contains a red "M" emblazoned on the front although all the prisoners here are mutants. He runs a comb through his hair, which is shorter than it has been in years, though still longer than some of the guards would like. He looks at his image in the mirror. He could use a shave but will wait until tomorrow, assuming he gets up earlier. He won't wait too long lest the guards require him to shave. He still has bruises on his side from the time he argued with them about that, though the nicks on his face have healed.
He looks again at the picture of Rogue. When the X-men arrived at the facility, one of the first things the authorities did was separate the men from the women. In response to outraged and terrified protests, a smirking officer asked incredulously, "What did you expect? There are no co-ed jails!" The female X-men were taken to a different prison. The X-men don't know exactly where it is but they have gleaned that a trip of a few hours by car would get them there.
Remy and Rogue had had a few seconds to say goodbye and, at last, to kiss. It has always been this way. Remy remembers back to the Savage Lands, when they had been Sinister's captives. He had realized that for the first time he fully and completely loved another human being – was not just "in love" with one. He was able to kiss Rogue, and the two have considered themselves a couple since then. But on that particular day, the X-men were freed and their powers restored to them. It is always bittersweet with them; they haven't been able to touch since then.
If only Hank had been allowed to continue his research, Remy thinks.
The fate of the female X-men is used to keep the X-men in line now. "You mutants try another escape attempt, and we're not going to beat you up next time," the X-men had been warned after their final attempt to overtake the guards. "Instead we'll go to the prison where your lady friends are and beat them up. Starting with the pregnant one. Got it?"
There have been no more escape attempts.
A guard blows a whistle and the X-men line up. The guards don't care in what order; today it is: Scott, Remy, Logan, Bobby, Hank, Bishop, Kurt, Warren, and Professor X. The latter is seated in an old-fashioned wheelchair. It's not electric, but Xavier is strong enough to turn the wheels with his hands.
Remy glances at Scott and thinks that their leader looks more vulnerable without his visor. Or maybe being without Jean has set him adrift. Scott checks off days on a piece of paper and updates the group with how far along Jean must be now. There are still 17 weeks before the baby is due, according to the last update.
Remy also thinks about how he lately has been calling his teammates by their given names, rather than their code names. Someday, he hopes, they will return to using names such as Gambit, Wolverine, Cyclops. For now, somehow, their given names fit better.
The team is then escorted to the mess hall. It's a room many times larger than the room which holds their bunk beds. The mess hall contains many guards. They prefer that the prisoners do not speak during their meals but they sometimes allow quiet conversations to occur. Along with the X-men are the male members of several other groups of mutants: Morlocks, X-Factor, Excalibur, an aggressive group of miscreants known as The Stryke, a group of Asian mutants, several of Sinister's former henchmen, and other mutants not affiliated with a group.
When the X-men arrived, it demoralized every other group. The others soon realized that if the X-men could be defeated – and contained here – then their own futures were not promising.
Remy had wondered why the X-men – like all the other groups – have been allowed to stay together, but the answer soon revealed itself. The prison is not a terrible place. If you don't disobey the guards, then you are treated relatively well.
"It makes sense," the Professor had said quietly to the group during their first night at the place. "A new administration, more focus on human rights".
Thus, no one is tortured, no slave labor performed, guards treat prisoners with decency (again, as long as they are obedient), food is abundant though not particularly tasty, amenities such as a gymnasium and library are readily available, the facility is about as clean as a prison could be. A chapel is on site, as is a garden. Medical care is also available, as long as one's injuries are not the result of disobeying guards.
Crime in the US is on the decline. However, this does not bode well for the X-men. The public seems to believe that locking up mutants has been helping reduce violent crime. And although the current administration is less anti-mutant than the old, it does not want to appear soft either. Keeping mutants behind bars results in a happy public, and regular inspections by human rights groups keeps crusaders from protesting too much. A human rights group was on site just last week and spoke with several of the captives.
Remy makes his way through the line. He grabs a tray, plastic utensils (metal ones are considered too much like weapons), a plate, and a napkin. He is allowed to take as much food as he wants. The oatmeal is intolerably bland but will fill his stomach. He also selects some fruit – they actually have pineapple today, a treat – and his favorite, the bacon. He will eat it last. He seats himself at the X-men's table, Bobby on his left and Kurt his right.
"Hey! When are you X-men gonna break us outta here?! Thought you were so tough!"
The taunt is yelled by Victor, one of the members of The Stryke. He seems to hate the X-men, though no one knows why; the members of his group are unknown to the X-men.
"Shut up!" a guard shouts, raising his weapon menacingly. Victor backs down this time. He's still store from the beating he received the last time he disobeyed orders.
The X-men, too, know better than to respond to provocations. Guards do not take kindly to prisoners fighting among themselves.
"Sorry," Victor calls, though his tone obviously doesn't convey any sincerity. He then attempts an obviously-false ingratiating tone. "You know how it is. It's hard to be locked up here without any -----." He uses vulgar language to express his frustration over the lack of sexually available women. A guard steps towards him menacingly and he quiets down.
Remy continues with his day. To earn money (in the form of credits to be spent at the prison's store), the prisoners are allowed to work in shifts at various tasks: making license plates, garden work, landscaping, kitchen duty, the dreaded laundry, and others. The pay is pitiful and if there are too many willing prisoners on a given day then one has to wait for a turn another day. Remy is lucky today; he arrives at the room where license plates are made and there is a slot for him. He sits next to Hank but the supervisor of the guards today is one of the strictest ones and he doesn't allow the prisoners to talk.
Mid-morning, the prisoners are taken outside to the track. When winter arrives, exercising outdoors will no longer be an option so most take advantage of the track every day. They are allowed to walk or jog. The fence surrounding the track is very high, and is wired to deliver an electric jolt to anyone who touches it. An array of trees and bushes surround the fence, and it's not bad to look at.
The head guard overseeing today's excursion to the track, Petrizzo, is known as one of the "nicer" officers. He lets them talk as much as they want. Remy falls into step next to Scott. They talk about nothing in particular. Remy doesn't know why but he's reminiscing about the X-men's ill-fated trip to Genosha. Scott listens intently. Maybe discussing a time before they were imprisoned here is uplifting in a perverse way.
The rest of Remy's day is divided into one- and two-hour blocks. Lunch. Free time, which for most prisoners is spent reading in the library and/or working out at the gym. He lifts weights. A group basketball game happens: X-men versus X-Factor. X-men win. Remy later takes a one-hour shift at the laundry – one was available and he can use every measly addition to his account possible. Later he plays checkers with Bobby in the library. He has a seemingly endless supply of cards, and he awes some Morlocks with a few tricks. Dinner. Remy reads a newspaper that is three-days old and limp. Lights out at 10:30 p.m.
Within a few days of arriving here, Remy located the four places in which a measure of privacy is possible. There's a tool shed near the garden, though it's a bit of a walk from the X-men's quarters. Inside a bathroom stall is a second place, though this one is the least attractive option. Also, there's a broom closet inside the X-men's bunk. The final place is inside one of the two confessionals that the chapel boasts. He sometimes goes inside there and thinks of Rogue.
He needs her. If he doesn't get out of here and get his arms around Rogue, he is going to go crazy.
Remy pulls the covers around him. It's definitely getting colder. His blanket is still good enough for now, but when winter hits they are going to need thicker blankets and space heaters. The central heating is weak and never fills the entire room.
He and Rogue had been sharing a bed, back at the mansion. They couldn't touch, of course, so they slept fully clothed with Rogue's back to Remy. He had enjoyed touching her through her clothing. He had many creative and inventive ideas, and she was enthusiastic to try them all. They made it work, though both loathed not being able to kiss.
Hank's research had been so promising. Remy doesn't know that when Hank sees him, Hank feels guilty, wishing he had a laboratory and a means to continue trying to solve the problem.
Remy falls asleep, hearing Logan begin his usual tossing and turning above.
***
An officer enters the X-men's bunk. Most of the X-men are inside there right now. The Stryke currently has the gym, and the X-men prefer to avoid this group. Kurt was the only one lucky enough to find a job this afternoon. It's over an hour until dinner so most of the X-men are reading newspapers, napping, or playing card games. There's an old Yahtzee game in their bunk and it is popular too.
Hank is reading a science text book, one far too basic for him. The library's selection of reading material appropriate to his level of intellect is limited, though Petrizzo has noncommittally said he might look into ordering a few special requests for Hank.
"I got good news for you freaks," the officer says. He's one of the higher-ups and one of the few who seems to relish calling them names. "You're going to have a visitor tomorrow. Actually, just one of you will." He points at Hank. "Someone must have a thing for blue, flurry animals." He shrugs. "Fifteen hundred hours tomorrow, report to the main office. Better not be a minute late".
"Of course," Hank says. He knows he'll get nowhere with this officer, but his mind is running riot. "Who is it?"
The officer smirks. He obviously knows, but says only, "Wait for tomorrow." He leaves.
The X-men look at each other.
"Perhaps your parents, or your brother or sister," the Professor suggests.
Hank used to correspond with his family of origin, but letters and calls had dwindled over the years. Hank recalls that the last communication with any of his family members was a Christmas card sent from his parents last year. No, it was two Christmases ago.
"I would be rather surprised," he speculates.
"Moira wanted to visit us again," Scott says. "Though I assume she'd try to see you, Professor."
The Professor nodded. Moira was the X-men's first and only visitor, over two weeks ago. She had told Xavier that it took a lot of persistence in fighting red tape in order to be allowed in. They had been permitted a twenty minute face-to-face meeting, supervised of course. Moira had reported on her work to free mutants, though the progress was not promising. Her own husband and son were in hiding, which hampered Moira's ability to get things done and even put her own status in jeopardy. She didn't think she would be allowed to visit again any time soon.
"I cannot imagine who else it might be," Hank murmurs, still sounding perplexed. "It has been years since I've worked with scientists and doctors outside of the Institute – or apart from Moira."
"Maybe it's some reporter," Logan says.
"Fifteen hundred hours tomorrow cannot arrive rapidly enough".
Bobby scratches his head. "I can never get this straight. So 1500 hours – that's…what, five o'clock?"
"Three o'clock," Hank corrects, tilting his head up with a smile. Bobby's bunk is the one above Hank's.
The time has been passing slowly but at last, 1500 hours the next day arrives. True to his word, the officer escorts Hank to the administration building. Hank is frisked down, which is ridiculous given that the prisoners obviously have no weapons. Two guards escort him down a corridor to a room with a long, narrow table and several chairs. A glass partition separates one half of the table from the other.
"Sit here," Hank is directed.
The guard looks at another. "Bring them in," he commands.
Hank jolts upright in his chair and his eyes widen. It is Carly, and her father. Carly is the woman whose blindness was cured by Hank, in a procedure he created. Carly and Hank had had strong feelings for each other, but anti-mutant bigotry kept them apart.
Startled and thrilled, Hank tugs at his uniform shirt, which is slightly too small. He smoothes the hair on his head. However, he soon realizes that his concern over his appearance appears to be unnecessary.
Carly is holding onto her father's arm and the pair walks slowly. As they approach the table and chair, Carly does not look at Hank. Her father guides her into a seat. Hank wishes he had his aftershave, which Carly had found appealing.
"Carly. Your eyesight," Hank breathes.
"Hank? Is that really you?" Carly asks.
"Yes, it is I." Hank cannot ignore her father, either. He had been anti-mutant until the day Hank had rescued his daughter from FOH. "Mr. Meadows. It is good to see you."
"Likewise," Carly's father replies. "I hope you are well." His hair is white, he has deep lines on his face, and he walks with difficulty. It has been years since Hank has seen him but he has definitely aged.
"As well as can be expected."
"Are they treating you okay here?" Carly asks.
"Yes," Hank replies. "The accommodations are adequate, and the guards do not mistreat us, provided we obey their directions. But, Carly – what happened to your eyesight? I had been certain that the procedure would be permanent!"
"It started to fade about eighteen months ago. I can see a little bit, but not enough to get around on my own anymore. It keeps gradually getting worse. I've seen a few doctors but they don't know what to do." She pauses. "I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner but I didn't know how to break it to you."
"I suppose now this explains why the last few times you reached out to me were via the telephone, rather than the postal service." A few times a year, Carly and Hank had been exchanging letters - or more recently, phone calls.
Hank shakes his head. "If only I had my laboratory, my research! I promise you, Carly, that when I am released, I will pursue your case." Guilt assaults Hank. It is bad enough that he hasn't been able to continue his work for Rogue and Remy, and now this!
"I'm doing okay," Carly insists. "I have my audio books and Braille books, so I'm able to take a few classes. And there's the radio; thank goodness for public radio. My dad stays with me a few days a week, and we hire someone else to come in twice a week. She cleans and prepares meals for me for the rest of the week."
"What about Michael?" Hank asks. The name still stabs at his heart.
"He broke off the engagement," Carly says quietly.
"Oh. I see."
Hank instantly regrets using the words 'I see' to someone who is going blind, but Carly responds as if she is not giving the expression a second thought.
"If that's how he felt about having a disabled wife, then I'm better off without him. But we didn't come here to talk about me," Carly says insistently. "We wanted to see how you were doing. And – we were at the prison where the X-women are being held, last week."
"How are they?" Hank asks. He leans in towards the glass.
"I was able to speak to Jubilee. She's fine."
Mr. Meadows nods. "The young woman appeared fine, unharmed. There are human rights groups monitoring all the mutant prisons. There are women's groups keeping an eye on the women's prisons in particular. Jubilee assured me that none of them have been, uh…assaulted."
"Thank heavens," Hank says. "We suspected that was the case – since we ourselves have not been physically harmed - but we worried regardless. The others will be relieved to hear this." Additionally, the human rights inspectors who have visited the prison have assured the mutants that those held at other facilities are treated the same way. The guards at the women's prison are female themselves, the inspectors mentioned.
"So you haven't been in touch with the X-women?" Carly asks.
"No, we are not permitted to correspond with or telephone inmates at another prison. We have inquired about it repeatedly but our requests to correspond are always turned down." Hank pauses, and then adds, "I am surprised that you have been allowed to visit two mutant prisons in as many weeks."
Carly shrugs. "We don't have any known relatives who are mutants, so we don't get hassled too much. Or maybe," she smiles and taps the area next to a sightless eye, "I get a sympathy vote."
They share a laugh. The two then spend the rest of their allotted time catching up. Mr. Meadows is respectful and lets his daughter speak with the mutant. He still nearly needs to blink when he looks at Hank's appearance, which he considers hideous. But he cannot deny that the man is learned, compassionate, brilliant, and cares for his daughter immensely – which is obviously more than could have been said for Michael, the man who was to have been his son-in-law.
"Time to finish up!" an officer warns.
"We will come again as soon as possible," Carly says.
"I very much look forward to that," Hank replies.
"And we're doing everything we can – writing letters and such. We even joined a group and we spoke to our Congressman. We're trying to get you out."
"Thank you. I hope your efforts will be successful."
"We're going to keep trying until they are!"
Two guards approach. "Time's up," one of them says. He grabs Hank by the arm and escorts him towards the door.
"Goodbye Carly, Mr. Meadows!" Hank calls. "Thank you again for your visit."
The father and daughter have only a few seconds to call out their farewells before Hank is removed from the room.
"Back to your bunk, mutant," a guard commands Hank. "There are no more jobs available today."
"Very well," Hank says. He is smiling and there's a spring in his step as he returns to the bunk. He enjoys the cool breeze in the air and spots a bird flying overhead. He rejoices at a glimpse of beauty in this flawed world.
***
Hank has already shared the details with the X-men over dinner. They were allowed to talk this evening as they ate their dinner, which consisted of salty vegetable and beef stew, salad comprised mainly of iceberg lettuce with a few tomatoes and even fewer shredded carrots under an oily dressing, rolls made of white bread, with syrupy canned peaches for dessert.
Back in their bunk, they have 30 minutes until lights-out.
"Hey, Hank," Bobby whispers. "Can I come down there and talk?"
Hank doesn't know why Bobby is whispering. Although the room is large, it's small enough that pretty much any conversation can be heard whether it is whispered or spoken at a normal volume. Still, the X-men do what they can to respect each other's privacy and generally act as though they cannot hear conversations in which they are not taking part.
"Of course, my friend," Hank says.
Bobby scrambles down from the top bunk and onto Hank's. Hank puts aside the book he was re-reading – the library has an old copy of "Dracula" – and somehow he and Bobby manage to fit next to each other.
"You've been smiling ever since your visitor today," Bobby grins.
"Well, of course I have. Receiving visitors from the outside is quite reassuring. It helps remind us that we've not been forgotten."
"I know. Thank god for those human rights groups that are monitoring us – and people like Carly."
Hank turns his head to glance at Bobby. His friend is fine, he can tell. Bobby's first few weeks at the prison were not easy ones for the younger man. Bobby had been terrified that the X-men would be tortured, humiliated, even killed. Not long ago, a scandal had hit the news about suspected terrorists being tortured at a US facility, and Bobby had feared that the X-men would suffer similarly. He had hidden his anxiety as well as he could, and the other X-men had tried to help him. They did small things like bring him food or point out that all of the other prisoners who had been here longer appeared reasonably well.
By now, however, it is clear that torture does not take place at this prison and Bobby's usual easy-going nature has long since returned. He even devised a practical joke or two. It is a development Hank is glad for.
Bobby continues, "You must mean a lot to her if she came to see you in person."
"I know," Hank replies. "That thought delights me."
Bobby smiles. He likes that a straight man just used a term such as 'delight.' He then says, "She's not engaged anymore, either."
A bemused Hank rolls his eyes. "I hardly think that Carly wishes to rekindle a romantic relationship with me – not that we ever truly had one to begin with. It is not as if she brought up the dissolution of her engagement. She only mentioned it when I inquired about her fiancé."
"Uh huh. So, you really don't think she's interested, or are you afraid to get your hopes up?"
Hank ignores the question. "I wish I could research her situation in my laboratory, as I am baffled that her eyesight is failing. I truly had believed the procedure would be permanent."
"Don't beat yourself up too much. You did your best." He makes a few more attempts to get Hank talking about his feelings for Carly, but it is apparent that he will not meet with success. Bobby eventually returns to his bunk.
Bobby wants to get his mind off of his own romantic woes, the painful separation that he is now forced to endure.
It is now time for lights-out. Hank puts "Dracula" away and pulls the blanket around him. He is glad for the generous fur on his body as it provides a layer of warmth. He begins to think how much better it would be if he had the company of someone else to share that warmth.
Hank wills himself to cease this line of thought. It will provide no benefit. Long ago he had accepted that Carly could not be his, and that indeed he was unlikely ever to have a love interest. He guides his thoughts back to his laboratory and the work he was doing for Rogue and Remy.
---
** (Nine weeks ago) **
Hank calls Rogue and Gambit into his laboratory at the mansion. "I did not want to share this with you until I was fairly close to success. At this point, I predict a 90% chance of success, and thus I wanted to reveal to you the fruits of my labor."
"You got a way to suppress my powers?" Rogue asks. Her face is flushed and eyes wide.
"Technically, no. However, I have created something that I believe will allow you to touch someone." Hank guides the couple towards a large beaker, filled with a clear substance.
"Looks like Vaseline," Rogue says. Her tone sounds more quizzical than skeptic.
"All dis time, dat's all we need?" Remy jokes. He looks, as usual, relaxed and happy as compared to Rogue's excitable nature.
"I wish I could create something more simple, such as a pill that you could swallow that would suppress your powers for an hour – or if I could only replicate one of those blasted collars," Hank says. "But failing that, this may be a viable solution." He pauses. "So, here is how I envision this working. You would both spread this on your bodies," he continues, dipping a furry finger inside the beaker. He notes that the use of the word 'body' has already taken the conversation to its inevitable level of intimacy. "I believe that it will create enough of a barrier to prevent you from injuring Gambit.. Yet it is still reasonably unobtrusive and should allow you the, um, enjoyment of touching each other."
"What 'bout kissin'?" Remy asks.
"That may pose a bit of a problem," Hank allows. He takes a sideways glance at Rogue and sees that she is blushing. "The substance is safe to ingest but I don't recommend ingesting large quantities of it. As for its taste…well, I would not describe its taste as repulsive, but it is not exactly delicious either."
"You ate some of this? Wow, Hank, you really do go above and beyond," Rogue smiles.
Hank ignores the compliment. He's quite excited to share this with the couple. "Yes, well, I believe this will allow you to brush your lips together but it is likely going to be difficult to engage in deeper kissing. Light kisses should be possible though."
"So, I gotta ask you some explicit stuff den," Gambit begins. "To make sure we know how dis works and what we can do."
"Of course."
"So we put dis all over our bodies, we can touch. We don't wanna eat a lot of the gel, but we can get some of it in our mouths. So what about oral sex?"
Hank answers the question without appearing uncomfortable. He has approached the entire endeavor as a scientist. "I believe you would need to use an additional barrier, given that ingesting large amounts of the gel is inadvisable."
Remy nods. "Dat's what it look like to me. So we use the gel and a barrier."
Unbeknownst to Hank, the couple has already been engaging in oral sex using barriers. So this gel doesn't further them along on this front, but Remy likes that they will be able to engage in full body contact, and kisses – however 'light' they might need to be.
"Of course intercourse would be possible," Hank adds.
"How often we gotta reapply dis gel?" Remy asks after a moment. "Ain't it gonna rub away? Sometimes people lose demselves in the moment."
"I know. I do not know exactly how often it will need to be reapplied, and that is one facet we will be testing. The gel is fairly thick and I believe it is long-lasting. Sweat will not wash it away. But certainly, we will need to test this, and I would recommend condoms during intercourse too, as an additional barrier."
"What exactly in dis stuff?" Remy asks. He removes a glove and rubs some of the gel between his fingers."I gotta ask dough I doubt I'm gonna have heard of any o' dem. Is it expensive? Is it toxic?"
Hank answers Remy's questions, assuring him it is neither toxic nor expensive. The Cajun then turns to his lover. "Chere, you got any questions? Don't tell me you embarrassed."
"Guess I am, Remy," Rogue says. She is looking at the beaker rather than either man's face. Discussing this with Remy would have been fine, but having anyone else in the room is difficult. "Guess you can take the girl outta the South but can't take the Southern belle outta the girl."
The three laugh, though Rogue's truism isn't too funny or original. The next day, they begin testing. Hank starts to refine the gel based on their test results. He is nearly finished when the X-men are arrested.
***
Hank remembers this and feels proud of his accomplishment. He sincerely wants to help his teammates. However, the reverie has failed to take his mind off of Carly. In fact, he longs for her even more now. Sleepless, he gets up from bed and heads for the bathroom.
TO BE CONTINUED
More notes from your writer –
I realize that there have been times in XTAS when Wolverine's powers are nullified and yet he's able to use his claws. If I kept consistent with that, it would make this story pretty short, so hopefully you can look the other way on that one.
Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.