*Usual disclaimer. I don't own the X-Men, I make zero money off my musings, this is for entertainment purposes only. Read on and enjoy!*

~Evening~

"Where ya headin' Gumbo? I thought you'd be sound asleep after that performance in the Danger Room session." Logan was in the garage and caught the familiar scent of Remy as the younger man silently stalked over to his motorcycle. That he was taking his bike and was dressed to impress let Logan know exactly where Gambit was heading. He was going to find some midnight fun in the clubs and try his luck at going home with some woman that fell for the dazzling demon's eyes and the devil's smirk.

"I'm headin' for a good time, dat's all. I'll be back in de morning, no worries."

"I'd rather you spent the evening shootin' pool with me. You've been on the prowl the last five nights, you can leave the chicks alone an' they can settle for second best where they're at. Come on Gumbo, race ya to Harry's Hideaway, if ya win I'll buy the first round."

That earned a grin from Remy, and Logan hopped on his bike while Gambit was kicking his ride to life. Out of the garage both were red-lining their bikes and it was a close call on the gate opening fast enough for the two men racing for the back roads that would take them into Westchester for the night. The gravel sprayed from the tires as the two raced down the streets, Remy winning the race by only one bike-length. They both were grinning as they walked into Harry's.

"Speak of the devil, and he shows up for a few rounds. Got an I.D. on you yet, kid?"

Remy grinned and shrugged. "Must've left it in my other pants."

"Where'd you leave those other pants, and can you remember her address to get them back?"

That led to a low level blush from the younger man. "Umm, non, can't remember. But I sure she won't mind the extra laundry."

Harry rolled his eyes at Remy as he poured the first round and set out on the counter Logan's choice in beer. "Only you would get away with it. How do you do it, kid? I've seen how the girls here watch you. Care to pass along some tips to a lonely bartender?"

Remy faded around the edges, the grin fading a touch. "It's an old family trick, sorry can't teach it to those that ain't got Cajun blood in 'em. You'll have to go without homme."

Harry didn't notice the faded grin. "Well that sucks. So what has you two in my humble establishment this evening? There's no football for the kid, and no live music tonight for the old man."

Logan reached out for his beer and took a long swig. "The pool table's callin' for me to kick the kid's ass, so we're where the tables are level, the pretzels ain't soggy, and the jukebox is cranked to ten. This is the only place in decent driving distance that fills the bill."

"Glad to know I run a classy establishment. Now the tables are clear tonight, no competitions to run you two out in an hour. Go have fun, let me know when it's refill time."

Remy picked up his drink and followed Logan to one of the open tables. Choosing his cue stick and going to work on the tip with the blue chalk, he let Logan break the first rack. "Looks like you're stripes this time. Ready to get kicked around?"

"I'm not a total loss at dis game, just do better with cards is all. Now you gonna run your mouth the entire time? I just want to relax for the night. Been kind of rough back at de mansion last few weeks." Remy lined up his shot and the ball sank into the pocket.

"Who's been hasslin' ya this time?"

"You want it alphabetical or numerical order, loup garou?" Remy missed the second shot, and Logan took over the table, sinking three solid balls before his luck ran out.

"Let me guess. Warren, Bobby, and Bishop."

"Got it in one try. I know I messed up, I got a lot of mutants killed. But I wanna know, how long I gotta pay for dat mistake? When's enough gonna be enough? Bad enough I got left in the snow, but now it's chilly at the mansion when I'm around. So I just not be around dat often. Makes everyone happier not seein' me all the time."

Even as Logan lined up his next shot, he was waiting for the feeling he'd only recently guessed at. As the younger man talked, Logan felt what he'd been concerned about, but kept his mouth shut for the present. Instead of paying attention to the pool table he watched the other drinkers, seeing if it was just him reacting to the foul mood practically flowing off the younger man. It wasn't only him. One couple in a booth were arguing when not a few minutes before they were smiling, and the bar area was getting testy with the speed of the drinks making it to customers' hands. That was enough proof for Logan. It was time to get Remy too drunk to protect himself mentally so he could ask some deeper questions.

~Much Later~

"Eight ball, corner pocket." Logan sank it with ease while Remy leaned against the table. It was quite a few rounds later and he was well in his cups. "There ya go, you lost that one too. Ready to call it a night Gumbo, and head home?"

"Yeah, dat sounds like a good idea." He put his cue on the rack against the wall and started for the door, only to almost fall over when it opened against the outbound wind

"You going to be able to stay on your bike on the way home? I don't want to explain to Hank I got you toasted then you dropped your ride."

"I'll be fine, I've rode in worse shape before. I just take it easy goin' back is all."

As the two men headed to their motorcycles, Logan waited until Remy was about to kickstart his bike to ask his question.

"So, when are ya going to fess up and admit your other power, Gumbo? You happen to be an empath if I'm figurin' it right." Remy stopped mid-motion and Logan could practically taste the panic rolling off the younger man. His eyes seemed to flash in the darkness of the parking lot, then they closed.

"The Professor, he knows. I asked him to keep it to himself."

"Why?"

He hung his head and finished taking his seat on his motorcycle. "The others, if they knew, they'd t'ink I was nothin' but a wreck. Dat I was takin' feelings from them. It's no fun, I don't like it an' I don't want it. Got enough bad vibes coming off plenty of the X-Men, didn't want to give more reasons not to trust me. Like they t'ink I would peek in on them. It doesn't work like dat, but I can already imagine what Warren or Bobby would say if they found out." He finally looked up at Logan. "Please, don't tell them. I got enough trouble on my plate."

Logan straddled his own bike. "I'll keep it to myself, but they're going to notice someday that when you're around, emotions run high. There's bound to be some trainin' you could do to get more control over that power."

"All trainin' does is make it stronger, harder to ignore. I just keep it bottled tight when I'm 'round everyone else, much as I can. Hard but better than leaking merde all over innocent bystanders." Remy started his motorcycle and headed out of Harry's Hideaway's parking lot. It didn't take a map to see he'd turned his wheels in a direction that wouldn't take him back to the mansion. Logan sighed and started his own bike, turning on the headlight and turning his wheels to the only home he had anymore. He could understand, the kid wasn't ready to go back just yet.

~Morning~

Logan sat in the garage, staring at the empty spot where Remy's motorcycle would be parked and thinking more deep thoughts. It was almost noon and Gambit hadn't returned to the mansion. Logan knew he'd disturbed the young man the night before with his questions. Cursing himself, he stood and ran a hand through his hair. If he'd upset that kid to the point of a relapse, he'd never forgive himself.

Just as he was about to put a call through to Remy's cellphone and hope there was an answer, Logan heard the low rumble of a well tuned motorcycle heading to the garage down the gravel drive. He stood and clicked the button on the interior wall that would open the double doors, then returned to sitting. His ears hadn't deceived him, it was the Cajun's bike. As the young man pulled in and turned off the engine, Logan could see that Remy was exhausted and once again had that glazed look to his startling eyes. He couldn't smell anything but old cigarette smoke and a woman's remnant of scent, but it was obvious the X-Men's resident Cajun was wasted on who knew what.

Logan cleared his throat. "I see you finally found the right road back to the mansion. Care to share how the rest of your night went after you peeled out of Harry's?" He didn't want to trample all over the younger man verbally, but concern pulled more gruff out of him. "Was she worth the effort, Gumbo?"

"Oui, very worth it. Now you gonna keep me from getting inside and ready for this morning's session? I could use a shower, homme, not a lecture." Gambit went to walk by Logan, only to be stopped by a burly arm across the doorway into the mansion.

"I think you're on somethin' that I can't smell. You brave enough to go down to the Med Lab and prove me wrong with a little blood test?"

Logan let the challenge lay between them. Remy's eyes lost a good amount of the glaze, to be replaced with anger. Logan could feel it rolling off the man, rage barely contained. He'd never felt that amount of anger off the younger man before, a rage that could burn through concrete walls if let off the leash.

"Gambit, he take your test, and he'll come through clean. You willing to risk a friendship over this? I ask 'cause once I pass it, you not gonna get to hang out and watch me get drunk with you anymore. Dat clear?"

Remy shoved Logan's arm out of his way as he stormed into the mansion. "Let's get dis over with, Logan. I ain't got all day to prove myself to you."

~Med Lab~

"I ran it twice, Logan. You saw the results both times. No drugs other than copious amounts of nicotine, and a touch of alcohol still circulating through his veins. He's clean of anything that I could find with those tests, so I can understand his... annoyance... with us once the first set was completed."

Logan stood to one side as Hank picked up the remains of the cart of supplies he'd used to draw Remy's blood. The young man had kicked it on his way out of the Med Lab, knocking vials and gauze all over the floor.

"He was royally pissed. And he's got all rights to that feelin'. He trusted me, and I pretty much accused him to his face of being back on drugs. He's going to take a while to simmer down, and he's right to be that riled up." Logan looked down at his hands. "He's had me and Storm to talk to since he got back from Antarctica, and I just blew a big hole in his skimpy safety net. Damn. Now I feel lousy. I let him down, and he didn't need that."

Hank dumped the ruined labwork supplies into the trashcan, then sighed. "He is one hard nut to crack. He doesn't let many people in past his wall of sarcasm and silence. Once again, I failed him by agreeing to this test. You don't carry all the blame for this one, my friend. I helped make a mess of this situation as well."

Logan offered up a wry grimace. "There's somethin' about that boy, that pushes everyone to misjudge him or just ignore him. How's he manage that?"

Hank laughed, though there was not much energy behind it. "He's our resident Cajun mystery. That might be all there is to it, he's from a kind of life none of us could ever imagine living though, to come out the other side grinning."