Title: The Wreckage

Disclaimer: I don't even own the rights to my soon to be college degrees and will not for many, many, many years… It's called a starving student, and by the state of my fridge, I'm living the dream.

Pairing: Rogue and Remy

Rating: Teen/Mature

Warnings: Contains dark and adult themes

Summary: It's what happens when two sides collide. The explosion between what you want and what you need, what's right and what's wrong. It's the wreckage. And it could be so easy. ROMY.

The Wreckage

Chapter Nine

It's Called 'Catch the Cajun'

The next morning, Rogue had to give her teammates some credit (but not a lot). Sure, she could see mild distaste in Scott and Logan (and sometimes Kurt), definitely. The X-Men were always pretty open and friendly to new faces for the most part, even if they did tend to get more righteous and holier-than-thou when approached by a member of "the other side". But when they first arrived, Piotr got an instant stamp of approval thanks to Kitty and St. John… was eventually accepted as an eccentric crazy and not criminally insane.

But the reception Remy was currently getting as they waited for the DR session was just obnoxiously ridiculous. He was surrounded by a flock of girls, Kitty included. The guys glanced over to him every once in a while, some with jealousy, but most with admiration. Hell, even she watched him from the corner of her eye and across the room (discreetly, of course).

So there he was, leaning against the wall suavely, with his tight uniform and heavy boots and card shuffling and utility belt, smirking that obnoxious smirk of his at every one of those fawning girls, reveling in the attention like he was a god instead of a devil. No shame at all, considering they were all underage. Tabitha seemed to take advantage of that fact and used any opportunity to touch him. Not that he minded in the slightest.

Rogue shook her head at the floor. Not that she spent her time thinking about "what ifs", but in the "what if Remy joined the world famous X-Men" scenario, his reception hardly played out as this smooth.

The doors opened and out emerged Logan, with a rather… sadistic smirk.

"Alright, everybody shut up," he began with a satisfied smirk. The room quieted. Eerily. She cast a cursory glance around the room. Jean, who was faithfully next to Scott and not Gambit, was oddly fixated on the floor, with a weird expression on her face.

"Thanks to our newest member," he yanked his head towards Gambit, "we're uneven in numbers, so no sparrin' today."

A few of the younger kids let out some noises of joy. Jean brought up her hand to her mouth to refrain from laughing. What was so entertaining?

"Instead, to welcome Gambit, we'll be playin' a game." His voice got suspiciously low and threatening.

Regardless, pretty much everyone let out some happy sound.

"What game?" someone called out.

Logan looked squarely at Gambit.

"It's called 'Catch the Cajun'."

Rogue laughed out loud with Jean. The rest of the kids murmured in surprise. Gambit? His smirk just grew into a grin, even though his face slightly paled. This could either be a very fun game, or a very dangerous one.

"Rules," Logan started before the ruckus took on a life of its own. "He brings you down, you're out. You bring him down, he's out. Winner gets tomorrow off DR. Any questions?"

"Powers or no powers?"

"Just bring him back breathin'." Already the schemes were reeling to bring down the new member.

The door to the danger room opened and Logan eyed the Cajun with an evil chuckle. "Ya gotta 30 second head start. It started 5 seconds ago."

Gambit shot the group a wild smirk. "Laissez le bon temps rouler," was his parting response as untangled himself from his entourage and saluted, blending quickly into the Danger Room shadows.

"Can we keep him if we catch him?" Rogue heard Tabitha murmur to the other girls, all of them watching him swagger off.

Rogue rolled her eyes, but let a satisfied smirk grace her features this time. This had to be Logan's fatherly payback for all Gambit's stupid stunts regarding her lately. And honestly, she could appreciate the passive-aggressive protectiveness of it all. This was what she wanted and expected from her teammates- an outward yet subtle sign of revenge. She shouldn't have been so surprised it was Logan who finally delivered, but she was flattered regardless.

Logan looked up from his wrist watch and smirked. "Spread out, watch yerr asses, and good luck."

The kids ran out, eager to prove themselves to each other and to impress Gambit. Rogue shook her head. Surely they would have heard some stories regarding his Acolyte days or how he managed to narrowly escape death by Wolverine's hand. Surely they didn't think he could be taken so easily or even found for that matter, did they?

As she was leaving last behind the throng of running, overexcited children and the regally scheming older X-Men, she felt a strong hand clamp onto her shoulder and pull her back.

"Wait."

She turned and faced Logan with an equally devious smirk. Oh yes, she could definitely appreciate this.


He let out an exasperated sigh. Not only had he lost his unpredictability, but was he losing his reputation too? These kids had to have known he was an "acquirer" of sorts. They must have heard he was the one that kidnapped The Rogue, had stolen the key to Apocalypse from under the Worthington's nose, had kicked the entire Brotherhood's asses without breaking a sweat, etc.

Did they honestly think they could sneak attack him? These kids were so damn loud, he was having trouble not just going out into the open and telling them to shut the fuck up. It was a shame really. Considering his job was security, he felt this especially fell under his jurisdiction. How could any group of superheroes go about their secret superhero business being as loud as that?

Regardless, he knew the secret to making it out as the victor was due to his training as a thief, the training that taught him stealth and silence, the necessary abilities to perfect the art of sneak attacks. This was his code of life, what he had been brought up on as a thief and as Magneto's fetch boy. And he knew it would be no different here. Granted, he had already taken out most of the group effortlessly, but there were a few older students he still hadn't seen or heard of, and now he knew he had to watch his ass.

Take the wafting smell of brimstone floating through the air as an example. He remembered that was the calling card for "that Nightcrawler fool" he had so dubbed once upon a time. He remembered watching him in battle- the kid just popped up behind someone and took him out, usually by hugging or something weird like that.

"Not today, kid," he murmured, smelling brimstone faintly closer to him. And if he got the timing right, remembering how his porting pattern was and the time interval between each, one nicely aimed card would produce…

A Nightcrawler being flung back with the explosion of the card, rolling back and hitting a far crate.

"Well that didn't go as planned," he muttered, obviously defeated, standing up on his haunches and rubbing his head. "Give some warning before you go around exploding a guy mid-port, sheesh," he muttered darkly to Gambit as he ported out.

He did a rough mental tally of who would be left. Not many; this should be over soon, he hoped. It was early- he was usually coming home at this time, half awake.

Off the top of his head, he hoped he was just done with the "newer" X-Men. It hadn't taken much to take them out as they had yet to learn the art of… well, the art of anything. He hadn't defeated all of the senior X-Men, he knew that for sure.

And as he was pondering this, he felt the annoying, probing, telepathic fingers of a spook. The red head. He made a face and groaned. Spooks weren't his favorite mutants to deal with, by far.

And he had to chuckle, because knowing Jean was nearby meant that the fearless leader was with her, her knight in shining armor, her protector, her foolish boyfriend. It would be a 2 for 1 deal and he knew exactly how to bring them down.

Hearing their quick approach, he slid behind some crates (really? Crates? They had only done that "warehouse attack" thing one time, and Wolverine based training sessions on it? Talk about unoriginal.) and waited until they got closer.

"I swear he was just around here..." he heard the pretty red head say.

Gambit could almost hear Cyclops' mouth set into a grim line. "We'll find him. And then we'll show him what being an X-Men's really about."

Gambit had to roll his eyes at that. He wasn't sure what was worst: the fact that they refused to be separated for as long as an hour or the fact they were so caught up in the X-Men glory.

No matter though, he reminded himself cheerfully as he flung a charged card at their feet. They both dove away, Jean's shield flying up as an afterthought.

"So what's this 'bout bein' an X-Men? Sounds interestin'." He queried lazily. He enjoyed watching the grim, angry line form on Scott's face.

Gambit saw the slight look the couple gave each other and narrowed his eyes. Figures the high school sweethearts would have worked on a "couples tag team" formation. He wondered idly as he dodged Cyclops' laser beams if tactical training was their version of sex.

As he watched Cyclops fire his lasers and Jean stop all of his cards, he realized just how almost sickeningly faultless their tactic was. Cyke was the offence; Jean was the defense (and occasional offence). How cute. Chances were they were attempting to tire him of all his cards and energy. Little did they know, he wasn't going to run out any time soon. He smirked at the two, knowing exactly how this was going to play out. How sad that their greatest strength in life was their greatest weakness in battle.

Tired of the three-person tango, he grabbed the nearest item (which, by golly, happened to be a small crate) and charged the hell out of it. He grinned cheekily as he tossed it their way and ducked behind other crates. He didn't even need to see Jean throw up her shield; it wasn't going to be much use to them anyways. He was impressed by how realistic the crate blew up and how it created the perfect cover to sneak around behind the couple.

Gambit watched from behind as Jean cleared the smoke from their area and Cyke surveyed the area, hand firmly on his visor. They weren't even watching their backs. This made his next move too easy.

"Find him?" Cyke asked grimly

"It's all static with him. It's like- hey!" Jean yelped as she was swung backwards by the arm and gripped forwards into the arms of the Cajun. He wasted no time in charging her clothes.

"Let her go!"

Gambit smirked and pressed her obviously closer to him. He rested his hands on her waist and arm. "I dunno, Cyke, I like her right where she is," he uttered in a low voice, capturing her gaze and smiled seductively. "And if I let her go, she might explode. We don't want that… do we, chére?"

He could see the confusion cloud her thoughts as his empathy soothed her to compliance. She shook her head slightly.

"What the hell are you doing to her?"

"Now you gotta choice, Cyke," he spoke to the team leader, ignoring his protests while keeping Jean's eyes entertained. "You can either accept your loss and back down or risk your belle femme just so you can prove you're a real X-Men. Your choice."

And just as he predicted, the team leader stalled.

"Either way you lose, Cyke. You lose the game or you lose the girl." He slightly leaned down to Jean's neck. "You smell good, chére," he whispered lowly into her ear. He vaguely wondered if the telepath knew what he was doing/had done. "Think he should back down?" he asked loud enough for Cyke to hear.

She nodded slightly, her lips partially moving as she stared into his eyes.

Gambit grinned. "What's it gonna be?"

Cyclops reluctantly brought his hand down and stood up straighter, as if to atone for the loss of pride. "Fine. Uncharge her."

Gambit smirked. "Will do, but one more thing."

Cyclops didn't see the almost Quicksilver-esque speed of the charged card flying at his chest. He was thrown back as the card exploded in front of him.

"Bang, bang. You're dead."

Drawing the charge back in from Jean's clothes, he let his empathic hold on her shimmer away slowly. He saw the semblance of consciousness enter back into her eyes. She stepped away from him slowly, shaking her head as if to rid her of the fuzzy feelings he gave her. He grabbed her hand and kissed it gently, seductive eyes never leaving hers.

"Well played, chére. And for the record, you would have been dead if I let go, so let's just call it game, hein?"

She nodded slowly as she retracted her hands, still slightly dazzled by him. Walking over to Scott, she helped him walk away, almost zombie like.

Not to gloat prematurely, but he had to hand it to himself. Not only did he win this round, he got to flirt with the taken red-head and piss off the team leader. Good times, had by all.

But he had more work to do! He put his game face back on and began to walk away.

And he turned around in time to see Shadowcat phase up from the ground and nearly wrap her hand around his leg. He groaned. That's what he got for loosing focus. These teleporting-phasing-weird powered mutants were just obnoxious and annoying in battle. He stepped back, narrowly avoiding her grasp, throwing a charged card in the wake of his foot. He had no intention of realizing what it meant to walk through stuff.

"Hey!" she yelped, diving back into the floor to avoid the blast. She rose back up in the smoke, glaring at him, hands clenched to the side. "That was so not cool!" she complained, shaking her head. She took off sprinting towards him. He knew what her plan was. She was petite and in no way could she take him in a fight. Her powers were defensive and couldn't harm him in any way, unless she was to phase him into something. The she really would catch the Cajun. His only option was to scare her, make her think she was going to get hurt.

He kept moving away from her, from her grasping hands and took to distracting her with charged cards at her feet. She jumped around, still solid, and occasionally phased when a card got to close to her. A few successfully flew into her torso. She let out a yelp of surprise.

"Jeez, would you just like, stop that! It's super hot!"

He smiled; she still thought this was a game and that she had a shot at winning. In his dodging dance of flying cards, he leaned over and grabbed a piece of blown up crate, charging it a humming vibrant pink. Her eyes widened. He wouldn't…

He backed up quickly and chucked it at her. She screeched, not wanting the hot "wood" to pass through her. She took a flying dodge, being pushed farther with the impact of the explosion.

She glared up at him and blew a bang out of her face.

"This Cajun thinks you're out," he grinned, extending his hand out to the girl.

"You suck," she accused, taking his hand begrudgingly. "That was totally an ass move. You could have killed me!"

"Hardly. That was a superficial charge. You should have just gone into the ground, instead of scream like a scardy cat," he advised.

"Ha ha, you're a riot," she responded scathingly over her shoulder at the typical pun. Not a sore loser, at all.

And he looked up at the control room, grinning satisfactorily at the observing Wolverine and crowd. He hadn't heard anyone else lurking noisily waiting for their turn. He was done. He was victorious! Looks like he had already earned himself a day off.

But… if he didn't know better, he could have sworn Wolverine was smirking back down at him.

And the grin faltered off his face. No way in hell that face was congratulatory- or even pissed for that matter. He did a quick mental count of everyone he had defeated. An odd number. And if his presence was supposed to tip the scales into an odd number, then that means he was missing at least one more person…which could explain Wolverine's gloating stare.

And Gambit snapped back into high alert, focusing every one of his senses on his surroundings. He couldn't hear the usual rustling of clothing or squeaking of shoes. He couldn't hear labored breathing or any tell tale sign of powers. There was no sound, just the faint pulsating beat of someone that just happened to be picked up on his empathic radar.

He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the shadows of the warehouse. The very little presence on his empathy meant that the person couldn't be nearby, but was probably searching for him as he was him. It now came down to a cat and mouse game he wanted to finish quickly; after all, he had been here, working his ass off (kind of, more so for the last few X-Men), for more than an hour.

He walked around the simulated warehouse, stopping every few minutes to listen to prying eyes, to try and follow the faint lingering aroma of emotion. It twisted and turned, turning around in circles sometimes. And if he didn't already have his senses as open as he could, every so often he could feel the prying eyes on his back and would turn to meet it with a questioning invitation. But nothing.

He couldn't figure out who his opponent was. Another telepath maybe? But he could have sworn he took out the resident telepath. Was there someone new he hadn't noticed yet? He wracked his memory, cursing himself for not staking out the inhabitants further as well. He stopped in the middle of an open area, tall cartons and crates surrounding him. Maybe if he stayed in one place, his next opponent would come to Gambit… He scoured the shadows, slowly taking the paths leading around to his little area. He heard nothing, but felt the same lack of emotional presence, keeping a constant radius from him.

He stopped back at the center of the warehouse. Strange. There was no longer an ebb and flow on his radar… if they were keeping the same distance, it couldn't have been by coincidence. It could possibly mean they had already sought Gambit out and was making him the mouse of the situation, and were currently getting ready for the kill. Which meant this person knew how to play the game, was possibly even dangerous, and if he was anywhere near as skilled Gambit…

This could be fun.

Gambit reached towards his utility belt, slowly sliding out the top card. He held it up to the level of his eyes and charged it. He could feel the anticipation building. Maybe it was his anticipation; maybe it was the mystery player.

And he felt the prying eyes at his back again. His anticipation spiked and he let go. He flicked the card towards the crates directly behind him and watched them go up in an explosion of metal, wood and dust. He looked through the dust, slowly walking forward. Nothing could have walked away from that unscathed, he was positive. He heard no movement and, for a moment, celebrated with a congratulatory smirk.

And then he finally heard it. The rush of wind following the dead silent sprint of a sneak attack. And it was… behind him?

He turned. Just in time to see Rogue take a flying roundabout to his face. He dodged his head back, barely saving his majestic face, saving his balance in time to see her drop to the floor with sexy cat-like grace, and kick his feet out from underneath him.

He flew back, narrowly saving himself with a back rollover, landing crouched, ready to rush her.

But she was gone again.

He chuckled out loud. She was stalking him!

"Was wonderin' when you were gonna show up, cherie," he lied and internally let out a string of curse words. He had completely forgotten about her. And did he feel stupid. He should have realized earlier that this exercise had multiple explanations: teaching these kids a valuable lesson in shutting up, and quite possibly, Wolverine's pent up anger with him, letting Rogue finally take a fair shot at him. The latter he wasn't sure was her idea or Wolverine's, but he wouldn't be surprised at either.

"I guess Wolverine saved the best for last," he mused, trying to flatter her as he picked himself up off the floor. He grabbed another card, lighting it between his fingers. He looked around the clearing room, waiting for her to make a sound. As much as he admired her eagerness to fight, she couldn't be that good…

He heard the creaking of a crate and zipped the charged card in that direction. The crate exploded.

And above the smoke and fire came Rogue, flying fast in a front flip, twisting and landing directly behind his crouched position. He whipped around, ready to protect and block himself from surely another facial assault. She grinned at him and immediately took off in a standing back handspring, flipping back multiple times, ending with a back tuck in perfect fighting stance. She reached behind her and pulled out a metal stick, pushing its button and extending it into half bo staff size, smirking him down the entire time.

"That's how you wanna play, chére?" He reached to his side to grab his.

And it wasn't there.

Damn.

He hadn't expected that.

She twirled the bo staff around expertly. "Let's dance, sugah," she purred.

"Lets." And he began flicking cards at her, only mildly charged, not wanting to hurt her too bad.

And she dodged them perfectly and cleanly, flipping the bo staff faster and faster to repel the exploding ones she couldn't escape from.

He grew frustrated. She seemed like she could take a hit, right? He began charging his cards a little more with each one. They kept ricocheting and hitting the crates around her. She slowly started advancing with each jump and flip, making sure to keep the bo staff rotating on his side.

"Tired yet? Looks like you're runnin' out of cards," she mocked.

"Got another pack, chere," he grinned.

She snorted. "You sure about that, Cajun?"

And he felt to the side of his utility belt, next to where his bo staff had been. Shit.

He stopped his throwing. She stopped her spinning, staring him down with a hard, almost expressionless face.

"Now, if I counted right," she started sweetly, "you're down to just a hand. Better check and make sure it's a lucky one."

And she began in a running, flipping streak towards him, bo staff still swinging with her side flips and jumps, hitting the ground with her handsprings. The cards would have to be saved. It was time to dance.

She finally got up to him, switching her jumping stance to a fighting one. She flicked the staff perpendicular to him. He only had a split second to respond, using his arm as a blocker as she started flicking the bo staff around and around, aiming for his head and under his chin. She started with hard blows, then eased up, deciding to take a quicker, more unpredictable approach.

She dropped down low, swinging the staff behind her back and using her outstretched leg to try and knock him down again. He jumped quickly as she stood up again, staff swinging in front of her.

He caught her swinging bo staff by her miscalculation. She landed and pulled the staff, yanking Gambit closer to her. She caught his torso in a quick side kick. He yanked the staff back, flipping her around so she had her back to him and pressing the staff against her neck.

"Time to end this, hein?" he crooned in her ear, the staff against her neck growing pinker and pinker.

"Will do," she purred, phasing the charged bo staff out of his hands (which did in fact feel weird and was exactly what he was trying avoid earlier) and letting it drop to their feet with a hard clink. She propelled herself into a flying handspring and phased back into the protection of the crates. She heard him curse and hit the ground just as the metal exploded, sending debris and dust everywhere.

"Aw, chére, that was my favorite staff!"

She grinned. She had called his bluff like Cyclops and Jean couldn't; she knew he would never charge it enough to harm either one of them now that they were on the same team. And she also knew he couldn't see through the smoke haze he had created for himself- which was fine by her. She was happy to use his earlier, dirty tactic against him.

Spying from the entrance of the crate, she vaguely saw the reds of his eyes. He was emerging out of the smoke cloud, eyes rapidly scanning the surrounding openings, just as she started running in. He couldn't see her in plain sight and now was her chance to end this. She caught a crate wall and flipped off, landing on another crate, and jumped off again. If she got the timing right…

He grunted as her thighs landed squarely on his shoulder. She locked her ankles and flipped herself around to face him, legs gripping his neck with an iron grip, grasping his head for the cover of his hair, keeping her fingers near his cheeks and her nose only a millimeter from his.

"Well, wouldja look at that," she crooned softly. "Seems like I caught myself a Cajun."

He smirked against her sweet minty breath. She felt his hands move from her waist, slowly down… she narrowed her eyes.

"Logan said breathin'- didn't say anything about conscious, Cajun," she threatened. "Now you gotta choice. You can admit defeat the easy way or the hard way," she mocked him.

"Decisions, decisions," he murmured, his hands firmly on her waist.

What an ass. She smirked back, licking her lips.

"Try it and I'll know every single thing you've done since I last saw you," she whispered, drawing her lips just a hair's width away from his.

And his smirk froze.

Now was not the time for that to happen.

"Touché, chére, touché," he admitted softly after a moment. "You caught this Cajun." He took his hands off her waist with a hard pride-sucking-up kind of smirk.

Rogue felt as though she should be proud of herself because technically, it was official-her hard work had completely paid off. She got him back, made him look like an idiot and probably made him feel like it too. If she was rich, she'd bet money on the fact he didn't see her as being aptly prepared. She'd also bet money that he didn't go all out on her like she would have hoped. It hardened her expression quickly.

She gripped his shoulders, swinging her legs off his shoulders, down, and back up in the air as if he was a gymnast's horse. She took a brief handstand on his shoulders and flipped off, twisting gracefully in the air as she landed softly.

Remy let out a low whistle and shook his head. He never remembered being a gymnast as part of her profile.

As if signaling the end of the session, the room reverted back to it's hallow dome form. She saw Logan's gruff nod as the observation deck lights were cut out. Everyone was in the War Room now.

Rogue turned around and kept her face as neutral as possible as she walked up to him and handed him back his cards and picked up her discarded gloves, snapping them back into place. She was thoroughly annoyed with the way he smirked at her, among other things.

"Y'know," she started disinterestedly. "I never got to thank you for sellin' me out to Kitty." Quickly balling up her fist, she slammed it into the side of his face. His face snapped to the side, but not much. His smirk grew as he rubbed his face tenderly and she glared at him hotly.

"No thanks necessary next time, chére."

"And for the record, you owe me a rematch. I don't like half-assed fights." With that, she spun on her heel back towards the automatic doors. Gambit followed, making sure to stay not-too-close behind her.

The rest of the team was waiting anxiously in the conference room, all bouncing and shouting at them as they walked in. Gambit could only imagine that the fight was exhilarating and exciting from their point of view too.

Kitty near pounced on Rogue the minute she got in, singing praises of congratulations louder than everyone else. Kurt bounced up to Remy, oddly jovial to Remy for the first time since he had come, and slapped him on the back. "Tough break man, but she's unstoppable. No one besides Herr Logan has been able to beat her." Remy internally sighed. This wasn't going to help his reputation any.

"Everybody, shut up," Logan spoke up. The room died down.

"It took less than an hour for one person to take you all out." The silence was now palpable. This wasn't a good debriefing already. "Care to explain?" He surveyed the room, expectantly. Most stared down at their hands.

"Popsicle." Iceman's eyes guiltily looked up. "Why were you out first?"

"Because it's like the guy's a freaking trained assassin," he tried to defend himself.

"Wrong. You were goofin' off. You didn't take this seriously and Gambit a serious opponent. You knew that, you were there in England."

His eyes fell on the senior X-Men and former Acolytes.

"You all knew about his abilities. What happened?"

Kitty and Kurt gave a side worried look to each other while Scott and Jean stayed stonily composed. Piotr sat up straighter and met Logan's accusatory gaze.

"Gambit has always been… proficient with one-on-one combat. His training has always made him a difficult opponent," he stuttered. Gambit smiled at the compliment. Logan did not.

His eyes fell on Gambit, who held himself with a bored expression fixated on the ground.

"Gambit." His eyes shifted up lazily.

"Oui?"

"Care to share with the class?"

Gambit exhaled and shifted his arms, glancing around the room. "Ya'll are too loud," he stated simply. "Can't surprise attack if you lack the element of surprise."

"I totally did surprise you and you almost killed me," he heard Kitty exclaim indignantly next to Rogue.

His eyebrows quirked at her statement and he zeroed in on her. "Oui, you did. But you were too scared to attack."

"Was not…" she muttered, looking angrily away.

"What the hell was almost killing Jean about?"

Ah, there it was. Remy had been waiting for that question for the entire debriefing. He faced Scott calmly. "Wasn't gonna kill her," he shrugged.

"Then what?" Scott challenged.

"Just cuz you spend your time with your girlfriend workin' out ways to be a super-couple doesn't mean it's gonna work in a real fight." He flipped the cards around in his hand lazily. "Don't get me wrong. This whole high school sweetheart superhero thing you got goin' on is cute for trainin', but it's also your Achilles heel."

Scott said nothing, only glared and gripped the table. It was subtle, but he saw Jean reach over to touch him.

"Just cuz it was a game didn't mean it was gonna be easy," he shrugged. Rogue scoffed from across the room. He knew it was a stupid, hypocritical thing to say- he did just take it easy on a girl he didn't think could take him down and she had called it out on him.

"Exactly," Logan agreed in his displeased, sarcastic voice. "And since you all took this exercise so lightly, we'll be working on the art of being quiet."

Logan's attention focused Gambit. "You. Out." He jerked his head towards the War Room exit.

Gambit lazily put his cards away and stood up. He stretched (for his own benefit, he swore) and saluted the rest of the group as he walked out. "Good game, Monsieur. Wouldn't mind playin' again." He whistled Dixie as he swaggered out.

Logan then zeroed in on Rogue. "You. Stay."

He looked at the remaining kids. "And the rest of you." He set a box on the table and shoved it towards the middle. The rest of the group peered in and grabbed its contents. In no time, the entire room was filled with bells on strings ringing.

"Uh, Mr. Logan? What are these for?" Kitty asked.

"Tie 'em round your ankles and get ready." His head yanked towards the Danger Room entrance.

The groans could be heard a mile away. Rogue smirked and leaned over to Kitty. "Wish you took some extra session with me now, dontcha?" Kitty's only (highly mature) response was mocking Rogue's lip movements as she looped and tied the long string around her ankle.

The rest of the team trudged out as Rogue stayed leaning against the wall. Logan waited until the door was closed before he zeroed in her and gave her one of his brief side hugs. He wasn't smiling like an idiot, but Rogue could tell that he wanted to.

"Ya did great, kid," he congratulated. "All yer hard work paid off."

Rogue sighed, displeasure on her face. "He took it easy on me."

"Bet he won't ever again. Ya made him look like an idiot and knocked his ego down a few stories."

She finally gave him a half-smile. "He deserved it. All of it," she muttered darkly, not knowing or caring if Logan got the reference or not.

"Pretty much." He patted her shoulder approvingly as he walked away. Before entering the Danger Room, he called back. "Forgot to tell ya in training. Bend yer knees more when you need to surprise right hook someone. Gets ya more power."

She laughed. Sometimes, what happens in the Danger Room, stays in the Danger Room…


AN: Sorry for the wait. I've had most of this chapter done, I just needed to finish it. This was a fun chapter to write! I'm usually not much of a battle scene gal, but I think it turned out alright, ya? (Hint, tell me in a review :D) And for those die-hard Romy fans who are thinking that Rogue beating Remy is kind of out of character, know that in my story line, she's worked her ass off in training and Remy didn't expect that. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter! And I hope you review too! And thank you to my reviewers and alerters! I'm happy to see people are reading, even if they aren't reviewing. It makes my last 18 days of having senioritis magical.