DISCLAIMER: I own an extensive collection of CDs and books and far too many pairs of boots but I own no characters or anything else portrayed here except the raw fictional material. Seriously think I'd ever leave my bedroom if I owned Gambit?

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~ Scarlet Letter~

Bedtime Stories.

Getting home hadn't been an issue, he'd come by bike as was his preferred mode of transport, and seated behind him she seemed perfectly at ease with that. He didn't even start to have second thoughts until they actually pulled up at the institute and she'd punched in the security codes to allow them in. Even then the voice in his head cautioning him to refuse her offer kindly and leave now that he knew she was home safely was quelled by the look in her eyes. She led him up the stairs to her imposing home after parking his bike behind some bushes and taking him by the arm to lead him in, and he had a moment's doubt.

"Chere – not dat Remy ain' sore pleased and grateful for y' offer of hospitality, but ain' dis gonna mean trouble for y'?" he asked, pitching his voice low, and she shrugged.

"Face facts – Ah cain' touch you anyhow an' the street ain' no place for the Prince of Thieves so Ah don't see a problem with it," she said flatly, and he nodded.

"Guess y're right dere, ma belle," he said, following her up to her room.

The mansion was bigger inside than he'd thought at first, and it turned out that Rogue had chosen a secluded corridor slightly off the beaten track for her new room once she and Kitty had decided it was time they got the privacy they needed. He had few complaints. Just as he had few when she conjured a sleeping bag from a closet and a mountain of pillows from a corner of her room and told him to bed down while she got the stench of crowds off her. He shed his trench coat and boots and put them neatly next to his makeshift bed, deciding that it was unlikely she'd mind if he slept in his boxers and the black T-shirt he'd been wearing at the concert. She returned from her en suite bathroom in a full-length black night-gown made of something soft-looking and informed him the facilities were now his for the using, and once he was in there he had a sudden fit of complete and utter panic. He barely knew this femme, he'd kidnapped and used her, had his powers sampled unwillingly by her twice although never through her own wish for it to happen, and here he was about to spend the night sleeping next to her bed? Was it not all just a little surreal? He took a few cleansing breaths and washed his face, noting that she kept a stack of individual washcloths next to the sink and using one of those to dry off before putting it in the laundry basket. He was at least determined to be a good guest, even if he couldn't quite believe he was even getting the opportunity to do so.

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She was sat up in her bed looking fantastic - although different without makeup – when he came out, and he felt suddenly shy and began to thank her again for letting him stay, but she silenced him with a shake of her head and a smile.

"Ah don' wanna hear it Cajun. Only reason you're up here with me is because Ah do wanna hear all about what you've been doin' while the rest of us was out savin' the world."

To mask the uncertainty he felt he made a show out of settling down on the mound of pillows next to her bed and stretching out. What to tell her? Tell her nothing was obviously the best plan. Or tell her the barest minimum of facts and hope she'd make do with that. Maybe tell her the heroic version of events? But would she even buy that? It seemed unlikely, but he was willing to give it a shot, if only because that was the closest to the truth he could give her and he wanted to repay her somehow. He didn't want to lie to her again, that was his old mistake, and Remy LeBeau learnt from his mistakes. He hoped...

"Remy been out tryin' t' save it jus' de same as you, chere," he said with a gesture of his hand that for once didn't result in him holding a playing card.

"Yeah, righ', that's why nobody's seen you since I left you in that swamp you dragged me to," she snorted and rolled her eyes at him, something he generally found annoying in a woman, but which she managed to make charming.

"Remy be tellin' sa chere belle de truth, Rogue, he been out doin' battle wit' de bad guys for once. Y' not proud o' him?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Ah don' trust him to tell me straight what's been goin' on with him," she elaborated, and he sighed dramatically.

"Y' got Remy dere. He ain' been too honest wit y' in de past, hein? Je suis desolé, ma chere... Remy had time t' tink about what he did t' y' an' he' couldn' be more sorry... Y' deserved better. He shoulda told y' de truth an' trusted y' t' handle it." He decided to take a chance, adding, "Remy came back here t' see how y' were doin'..."

She sighed and blew a few stray strands of hair out of her face, shrugging. "Ah don't think much has changed... Magneto's havin' some kinda total regression to a past lahfe or somethin' – he's spendin' all his time with the Professor an' he's even been tryin' t' get closer t' Pietro an' Wanda even though they're still tryin' t' make things work out with each other too. We haven' seen Mystique aroun' fer a long time an Ah hope she just crawled off somewhere an' died, t' be honest... Guess that makes me a real nice person, huh? Even though Ah'm not a murderer anymore..." She paused, then went on,

"Logan's not home s' much anymore, he's out makin' sure everythin' stays peaceful fer a while. Jean and Scott have been real pains in mah ass since this whole Apocalypse thang – c'n you believe they're engaged an' they picked the same college to go to? Disgustin' raght? Anyway, the rest of us, guess we're all pretty much the same... Why, what do you need t' know that for?"

Remy smiled at her and said, "Chere, Remy tink y' may 've misunderstood him... He came back t' see how de Rogue was doin'."

The look on her face went from surprise to suspicion to indifference as fast as one of his sleight of hand tricks – in fact, he wasn't even completely sure it was anything but indifference all along.

"Ah'm fahne, what's it t' you?" she asked, a little defiance sneaking into her tone. He made another obscure hand gesture in her general direction.

"Remy was wit de Acolytes fer money an' maybe outta interest – he took y' to New Orl'ns t' settle personal business, an' he ain' had nothin' ta do wit de rest o' y' Bayville mutants 'cept de Rogue... Y' stay wit an' homme, ma chere..."

She made a sound of disbelief that really did sting and said, "So what do you wanna know about me? Y' already know pretty much everythang." He shook his head.

"Non, chere. Remy wants t' know what y' been doin' since y' saved de world..."

She chewed on her bottom lip for a minute or so and then said, "Ah've been gettin' t' know mah brother an' tryin' t' have a normal life. It's not easy when everybody knows who y'are because they've seen you on TV y' know... An Ah've been takin' lessons with the Professor t' learn how t' deal with all the other people in mah head," she grinned as though it were the least bit amusing to have to deal with other psyches struggling for control over your life and he smiled.

She was by far one of the strongest people he'd ever met, even though she seemed a lot less angry than she had been when he'd last had anything to do with her she had retained all of her spirit. "Sounds good, chere... Y' sound like y've had a better time since last I was lucky enough t' clap eyes on y'." She shrugged.

"Tell me what you've been doin'."

He sighed. "'S a long story chere, an' it ain' one Remy care t' tell y' before bedtime..."

She looked at him with an odd sort of understanding in her deep green eyes. "Ah don' think anythang we've been through lately would make a good bedtime story," she said, neutral in everything but the slight tremble of her left hand as she pushed back a section of white hair from her eyes.

"If Remy tell y' tomorrow, would dat be good enough for y' ma chere?"

She nodded and stretched a little, and his eyes subtly followed the lines of her alabaster arms.

"Fahne by me Cajun – Ah'm too tired t' keep mah eyes open anyhow. Sleep taght," she said in a lilting singsong, reaching for the switch on her bedside lamp that was currently the only illumination the room offered.

"Only if y'll call Remy by his real name, chere," he teased, and she rolled her eyes and turned off the light. He could see her settling down, her head nestling against the pillows, arms tucking around herself even in the dark, his eyes not just for looks but providing him with superb night-vision as well. He mimicked her, eyes never leaving her face as she closed her own and said,

"G'naght, Remy..." He smiled slightly and buried his face in the pillows she'd given him, noting that they carried a hint of her scent on them and feeling somehow more relaxed of a sudden.

"Goodnight, ma belle Rogue..."

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