"I trust you."

Remy nodded once, and headed back outside. "We'll meet in the garage in half an hour." He whispered, then jumped down.

The cool night air entered the room. Rogue breathed it in deeply and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Too much happened in the last 12 hours for her not to feel dazed.

Bobby for example.

Rogue looked towards her door, and the rest of the mansion. She knew what she should do. She should wake up Hank and inform him that his Cajun patient has once again gone AWOL. She should take Gambit straight back to the med lab for a complete check up.

Rogue looked in the mirror. Not a flattering sight to see her sleep tousled hair and puffy eyes. "There's a lot of things I should be doin', ain't there?" She muttered to herself and headed for the bathroom. Maybe she wouldn't be ready in exactly half an hour, but it would be damn close.

...

Food. Remy silently entered the kitchen and set about making himself a sandwich. He concentrated on the morning ahead. There were no messages on his cell phone, and the instructions were to phone only if something went wrong. He didn't feel too bad, but if something went wrong and he had to fight his way out? Well, he had Rogue for that, right? He even had a contingency plan if they didn't get the codes off Cunningham. A wonderful new piece of technology, designed by Fisk's not so legitimate partners, he acquired earlier in the week. What better method of testing could there be? Use black-market tech to break into the legitimate enterprises of the same company.

Footsteps down the hall caught his attention. He quickly picked up his sandwich and moved to a less obvious spot behind the door. He didn't turn the light on in the first place, so at least he didn't have that to worry about.

The door creaked open, and held. A second later he watched Logan walk in. "I smell ya in here. And that better not be my turkey leftovers in that sandwich you're eating." The lights turned on.

Remy walked back to the table and shrugged. "No name on it." He stated.

Logan headed for the fridge. He pulled out the container formerly holding a complete serving of turkey cuttings. He held up the container for Gambit to see and pointed at the masking tape on the cover, specifically the letters L O G A N in felt marker.

Gambit grinned. "At least I left you some."

Wolverine sat at the table with what remained of his leftovers and a fork. He tore off the cover and started eating. From what he heard the man had been on death's door just hours earlier. He looked fine now, if a little tired, but one thing for sure, he didn't smell right. "Aren't you supposed to be in med lab recovering from frostbite?"

"Non." Remy answered and finished his sandwich; thinking now would be a good time to leave.

Logan grunted and concentrated on his food. "Don't' concern me none. Just thought you'd like to know what went down after you did."

Remy sat back down. "What?"

Logan smiled, showing his teeth. "Grab me a beer and I'll tell ya."

...

Rogue stood by the garage. She looked at her watch, and waited some more. At first she felt proud of herself for beating the half-hour time limit, but as minutes ticked by and still no sign of Gambit, pissed of was quickly taking over. When a person sets a meeting time, they'd sure as hell better be there at the appointed time.

The object of her mental rant walked through the door moments later carrying a briefcase. "I thought you said half and hour!"

"I grabbed a sandwich." Without looking at her he walked towards Ororo's car. Ororo's new car. It still smelled new.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Rogue watched Remy open the unlocked driver's side door and twist under the steering wheel.

"We're just borrowing it Rogue. She'd agree if she knew."

"So why don't we tell her then?"

Remy smiled. Rogue didn't see that smile very often; Remy seemed to reserve it for only the most desperate -I gotta charm this girl now- situations. And yeah, it worked.

"That'd take out the fun." He explained, and the motor started.

"Why don't we just fly?"

"Get in, and stop worrying. Storm knows, you think I'd deliberately piss of a weather goddess? This is just for deniability in case anything goes wrong." Remy watched Rogue's face. Her eyebrows scrunched down while she thought about that.

"What's my deniability?"

"Tell them my dashing charm and wit corrupted you."

"That's not funny."

He didn't answer. Rogue shifted and sighed, and tried looking out the window. It being still dark outside, she didn't see much. She tried another tactic. "How d'ya like mah dress?" She asked in her sexiest drawl.

"Couldn't find anyt'in' more revealin'?" He asked sarcastically.

"You've never minded my style before. What's wrong with it?" She demanded.

"The point was to be subtle." He grumbled. She didn't fail to notice that he cast an appreciative glance in her direction, so at least that was one step in the right direction.

"It's the only purple suit I have. Ahm tryin' to be symbolic." She answered, and she could have sworn she saw half a grin almost touch his lips. "Are ya feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." He answered. "It's still early. I thought we could have a long breakfast in the city while we wait."

"Sounds good to me." Rogue answered.

He watched the road. "So what happened after..."

"You almost died Remy." Rogue reached forward to turn on the radio and avoid any more questions on that particular note. Storm's radio pre-programmed to three kinds of stations, classical, jazz, and talk radio. Talk Radio won by default, and the current 'hot topic' at three in the morning appeared to the mutant threat. Of coarse.

"Harold is on the line. Harold?"

"Yeah, thanks. I just want to mention that in my kid's school, it's there too. My daughter just got passed up for the volley ball team, and the kid they took instead of her, there's something just not right."

"Thanks Harold. That leads us to another line altogether. How do we protect our children? There are metal detectors at the doors of my own son's school, and that's supposed to protect him, but how about a mutant? There is no such thing as a Mutant detector! Some of those freaks even make fire! Like two weeks ago the fire in Queens that killed three people. This is a severe threat-"

Rogue reached forwards and turned the radio off. She leaned back and looked at Remy again. "What do you think you'd be doin' if you weren't a mutant?"

He shrugged. "How 'bout you?"

She shrugged too. "I'd work somewhere; maybe I'd be a lawyer. Ride the subway to work everyday, and not be afraid I may accidentally brush up against someone."

"And you'd be happy with that?"

She nodded. "Don't you ever wish you could be like everyone else?"

He wished it every day growing up in New Orleans. But now? "You wouldn't miss flying? Or using lamp posts as baseball bats?"

She laughed. "Yeah, that can be fun." She wiggled in her seat to get a little more comfortable, then tilted back into a reclining position. "How about you Remy? What would you be?"

"That's assuming our lives would be different." He answered.

"As different as can be! I'd have never joined Mystique; you'd have never joined the thieves' guild..."

"That doesn't mean anything. All the shit that's been dealt us, it can happen to anyone. I'm not the only kid who ever ended up on the streets. And I don't think for a second that my life would be any better if my eyes were brown." He said softly.

Rogue persisted. "But what if! If you could be anything, even now, what would you be?"

Gambit thought about it for a minute. Anything? "I'd be in New Orleans." He answered truthfully. "And I'd be sleeping."

"So then why aren't ya?"

He shrugged. The whole you can't go home again cliché came to mind. The truth ran more along the lines of more people wanting him dead then alive back home, but come to think of it more people wanted him dead then alive here too. "There are things here I need to finish." He answered.

"Revenge." Rogue tasted the word. "Why now? We've fought Sinister at least a dozen times, why didn't you just do IT then? And don't you dare shrug at me again."

Two trucks passed one right after the other. Remy stared intently at the road for a while; hardly acknowledging Rogue's question, but he didn't shrug. At least not yet. "How long has it been since we last saw him?"

"I don't know, a while."

"Over a year Rogue. He never keeps to himself that long unless he's working on something big." He concentrated on the road for a while. "And I've felt him."

That caught Rogue's attention. "What do you mean?"

"Feels like a spider crawling up my back. I need to find him first."

"You still haven't explained anything. How can you feel him?" She sat up and readjusted her seat.

"I just do."

Rogue smiled and reached out to put her hand on his knee. "You're paranoid."

"I hope so."

Rogue didn't mover her hand away. She could almost imagine what he might really feel like. When was the last time she felt something, really felt something?

Too easy an answer. The cave, just before abandoning him. Why was it whenever she got close, she ended up running? First the crystal wave, or whatever the hell that was. She still dreamt of the disappointment of that day, embracing the end of the world, only to blink and see nothing changed after all. She ran from him then too.

Why did she keep coming back?


...........
(want more, let me know! Please review!)