A/N: Okay I know I really messed up by not updating this Sunday like I was supposed to but I have been bogged down by work, like crazy and I really just needed some time to relax. That being said all that relaxing just led to more writing so I have another ROMY fic in the works, big surprise but it also meant that this hasn't been updated on time.

Anyways I hope this update makes up for it, it might seem like a filler chapter but I think its necessary for the other things to be set in motion that I want. Hope you enjoy and know that I promise not to update any other stories until this one is finished! unless of course there is a great demand for them but so far this is the only one getting a lot of attention at the moment so it shouldn't conflict.

Thanks as usual to my reviewers and please don't be shy about voicing what you like or things you wish to see because I do take your comments into account when writing. Okay here it is.

Chapter 10- Posing is Easier Than It Looks

"Fake is as old as the Eden tree."

Orson Welles

After a seven hour flight Remy would've expected to be drunk off his ass. It's what he usually did on long flights as it was the only thing to do other than sleep, or play solitaire, or annoy whoever decided to make their way across the world with him. But he was overcome with the notion that something wasn't quite right.

Sure there was the fact that the young woman from the diner, the onetime conquest with the body of a goddess and the face of an angel had somehow made herself a semi-permanent fixture in his life but there was something else. He was once again thinking about those secrets she held so close to her chest. The way she had turned over and ignored him, it irked him, made him think that something else was going on.

There was nothing going on between them besides the physical and the professional so he didn't expect her to trust him but there was so much he wanted to help her with. He knew there was a degree of danger hidden behind those lush red lips and deep green eyes but he was so drawn in by more than her beauty it made him forsake those intuitions. He wanted to bridge the gap between the physical and professional, wanted to know those secrets.

He wanted to know what stories held that pain in those beautiful eyes, wanted to know who the party responsible was for making tears stain her cherubic face. But that was too much. He was asking too much. But he was thief and asking wasn't exactly something he was accustomed to. He was used to taking. This job would require subtly however.

He shivered at the thought as the plane started to descend on to the airstrip in Los Angeles. She wasn't something to be analyzed like some job. He was so confused. She was making him rethink everything about himself, all the prior titles he had held dear going out the window for one femme. She was just another woman. So why was she the only woman he could think about?

The nights when he would be at Bourbon Blues and used to enjoy the pleasure of watching beautiful women were few and far between for him and he realized it was because no one held a candle to her. They were all insignificant women. She was so much more, she held secrets, held a depth of intelligence and knowledge and something more that kept him needing more, more of her skin, more her lips, more of her.

She had him eating out of the palm of her hand and he knew it and hated it. He felt like he was playing into some hand that she had dealt him, luring him in with her brick wall, with that arm's distance mantra that kept them so far apart. Less than a month ago Remy Lebeau was a womanizer and here he was a month later practically going insane over one woman. He pushed his hair back, his head in his hands. But there was something about her that was worth it. That much he could tell. She was a rough edged diamond; she was worth the cuts and scrapes that took getting it out of the damn dirt.

The plane pulled into the tarmac and Remy watched her sleeping form, the way her lips parted ever so slightly with her each breath and the slow and steady rise and fall of her chest. The way the wisps of white framed her face and the lashes that curled from her closed eyes. She was beautiful and he knew it. Probably the most beautiful woman he had ever met and he couldn't have her. She wouldn't let him. He let out a deep breath as the captain emerged from the cockpit.

"Mr. Lebeau we have arrived in Los Angeles," his voice was the demeaning quality of a servant and Remy simply nodded standing up and walking over to Rogue. "Would you like us to wake her sir?"

"Non, I'll carry her," Remy stated simply as he draped his trench over her and she wriggled into it her breath hitching for a moment before picking its pace back up.

Remy pulled her into his arms easily with thief-like skill, cradling her to his chest. Rogue's arms wrapped around his neck slowly and he looked down into her face to see she was still deep in slumber a smile gracing her lips. He couldn't help but smile back down at her. She felt the warm wash of his breath and for a moment she knew she was dreaming because his firm, gentle arms were cradling her towards him. She smiled and moved her face to the crook of his neck her breath tickling his skin.

Remy tried not to snicker at the sensation. He brushed his lips against her ear for a moment before proceeding to carry her out of the jet to yet another town car that waited to take them to the small guild villa just outside of the city. He set her down on the leather seats sliding in beside her as her head found its place in his lap of its own accord, snuggling closer to him.

It wasn't fair. That she was like this unconsciously. Didn't it just prove that she felt something more for him than lust or frustration? He wanted to hope so, but that hope would spawn even worse things in his heart. He couldn't allow himself to be weak; she had already made him too vulnerable for his liking, she had already made him a part of her whether she knew it or not.

He brushed the hair out of her face soothingly as the car pulled away from the tarmac and drove through pillars of light and streets lined with small puddles of water. It had just recently rained and the water refracted every dim orange light creating a dreamlike aura that had Remy dozing in his seat as he stroked Rogue's cheek. He wished that this moment could go on forever, this dream like instance that seemed to just be the perfect part of him and of her, together.

It was then that he realized just how young she really was. She wasn't a little girl, not a child but when she was asleep she could fool anyone. He kept his fingertips at her cheek, crossing the silky skin every so often. He knew she had to be at least twenty five, still at the threshold of youth and adulthood, but she seemed so much older in her actions. He could tell that she put up the façade of being older than what she was and it was at that moment he realized she was his exact opposite in almost every way.

From the time he had turned eighteen, Remy had been trying to stop himself from growing up. He didn't want the responsibility to hang on his shoulders, to be the only thing to define who he was. He acted out, he was rebellious and it did him no good. It didn't take away from the fact that he had skills beyond measure and that his last name happened to be Lebeau. There were things that Remy just couldn't out run, couldn't leave behind, things that would always define who he was. She was different.

She didn't let things define her, didn't let simple things like the past get in her way. She was so young but he knew she had the heart to run. She was rebelling now, was giving into her namesake now. He knew she had never before been the type not to take directions, to be rebellious. She was finding her own way now. Why else would she have left a group as close and accepting as the X-Men behind?

Remy remembered back to the days when he had helped the team out, had been a part of it for however short a time. It was a family; but he never felt like he quite belonged. Maybe it was the rules, maybe it was the fact that he was a thief and no one trusted him, or the fact that he didn't have his powers under control then but he didn't quite fit. He knew how that felt; to be the outcast, to be pushed away. She had reminded him of that. The feelings of inadequacy. He looked down at her heavy lidded eyes, watching as the breath puffed out of her chubby lips and sighed. She was so much; so hard to crack. But it wasn't like he was telling her his past either.

What was it that made him think he had earned her trust? A few nights between her legs, making her more than a regular? Or was it the way she pleaded with him or the light that flickered through her eyes when she saw him? He couldn't tell, didn't know for sure what it was but his intuition, his instincts told him there was something there she found intriguing. Why else would she agree to such things with him? He found himself for the first time in his life deliberating whether a woman actually had feelings for him.

The car slowly pulled up the driveway of the villa. A small, but as usual, luxurious home. The driver dragged their bags to the door as Remy cradled Rogue and slowly stepped into the house they would be sharing for the next couple of weeks. A quiver went down his spine. Sure there would be fun but he worried that if her or his temper got the best of them in these next few days everything might fall apart like the house of cards it was.

The driver placed their bags in the living room and Remy thanked him as he walked down the hallway finding the master bedroom, laying Rogue softly down on the king-sized bed with thief-like ease watching for a moment as she snuggled into the blankets easily. He pulled the comforter around her shoulders and despite knowing better, despite knowing it crossed all boundaries they had both put up he placed a simple kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep tight, mon belle River Rat," he whispered against her skin not noticing the serene smile that crossed her face as he did so. Rogue was dreaming of him.

Remy stepped out into the living room to begin planning. The next couple of weeks were going to be hectic and they were going to need a tight plan just to get into the Worthington Labs. Remy flipped open his laptop and logged into the Thieves Guild, CIA and FBI databases cross checking all of the information he had. This was going to prove difficult and that made his wolfish grin appear at the corner of his lips. He was always up for a challenge. The thought seeped in and he knew that work wasn't the only thing he was thinking about.

A Few Hours Later

The rock beneath her feet was gravelly and unstable and Rogue found herself slipping as she ran. Her lungs were screaming for air, her muscles on fire from the constant movement but she had to keep going, had to keep running or be lost forever.

She couldn't see where she was going, it was pitch black and all that lit the darkness was an ever dimming spark of fire in the distance. She could feel him behind her, could feel the cold creep over her as she kept sprinting towards the tiny spark of light. The dark seemed to grapple with her, to stretch its limbs out and tackle her to the ground that was slipping beneath her feet.

The icy frost crept upon her once more but she dare not look behind her as she trudged forward. It kept coming, hard and fast, and she knew that it would consume, would find a way to keep her in the icy clutches of the dark. She pulled free of the darkness's grasp, and ran and ran and ran until she felt like she could run no more, the flames in the distance seeming only to tease her with their presence.

Rogue kept her pace, kept striving forward but the chill hit her bones, she could feel it creep up her spine and watched as wisps of air escaped her mouth and her teeth chattered within her skull. She was shaking just to stay warm and every step she took it felt like her body was frozen solid. The flames ignited, ever brighter in the distance and she strove forward with the hope of being greeted by the inferno.

But her foot was caught, held by the darkness, and she was so close. So close to the warmth of the flames, to the floating sparks beckoning her towards them. She dragged her feet from the muck, mustering what little power she had left to pull herself forward and once free she tumbled into the waiting warmth. She felt a kiss against her hair as the fire engulfed her and she smiled. It was where she was meant to be, inside the inferno.

Rogue was startled awake finding herself in unfamiliar quarters. Everything was off-white and pristine, reminding her of the house of someone with a taste for luxury and minimalist style. She rubbed her eyes looking around the simple room adorned with dark wood and white furnishings. She fumbled in the dark for a light, sitting up suddenly, attempting to remember something. She had been on a plane, with Remy Lebeau on the way to Los Angeles. So where was she now?

Her fingertips brushed past skin and she turned over suddenly, her eyes seeking the object in the dark, frightened of what it could be. Her eyes found scarlet irises and a devilish smirk in the dark and her heart sank. This was a dangerous setting. This was a dangerous time. But her body seemed to tell her she was safe, that everything was alright. She knew it was wrong.

Remy moved his arm along her waist, gently brushing her arm, a sleepy look in his eyes. She looked so alert and for a moment he wished she had been a part of the Thieves Guild sooner, her natural skills were quite amazing. He gave her the cat-that-got-the-canary grin of his and licked his lips.

"It's late petite, lay back down. Sleep. We 'ave a lot ta do in de mornin'," his voice was deep velvet, sending waves of warmth through her body.

Rogue looked about herself once more, trying to take in her surroundings. They surely weren't on the plane anymore. She was sitting all the way up, looking down at Remy. He was wearing the same clothes he had when they had departed from New Orleans.

"Where are we?" Rogue's voice was still hoarse from sleep, but her eyes, scouring the room for some unknown danger were vigilant.

"At de guild villa jus' outside o' Los Angeles. Come back ta bed. It's late," Remy soothed as he rubbed circles in her back.

"W-what time is it? How long have Ah been asleep?" Rogue questioned rubbing her head, feeling the small beads of sweat against her skin from her previous slumber.

"It's about trois in de mornin'. We been here since 'bout six last night. Y' slept de whole plane ride, didn't wanna wake y' so put y' in de room," Remy whispered sleepily, a yawn escaping his perfect lips. "Come on chere. I jus' laid down and I'm really tired."

Rogue stared down at him. This was not something that was professional. They weren't supposed to be doing this sort of thing. But somehow it felt right to feel his hands on her, to feel the steady breath leave his lips and hit her skin. Rogue slowly slid down into the bed, wriggling underneath the covers as she faced Remy, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room.

Her skin was crawling and she couldn't help but stare back at him. This was too easy, she felt too comfortable lying there beside him, looking into his eyes with her hands beneath her head, his hand at her waist. Remy wasn't trying to push anything, wasn't attempting to break down her walls. This was just plain and simple, part of posing for the job. So why did it feel so real? Why was this so easy?

Remy swept the hair out her eyes to better see her wide eyed expression, her pupils a deep black in the dark, highlighting the luminescent green orbs. Rogue felt herself give over to his fingertips and closed her eyes to the sensation. She was exhausted and she was unsure why, didn't know why her body had seemed so heavy but the second her lids fell closed she felt her unconscious give over to dreamland.

Remy was amazed at how easily she had given over to him. Was it merely her sleepiness, or had he somehow put a crack in the wall she constantly put up? He stared down at her once more, the sleep showing the beauty he knew to be all too real. His gut quivered. There was something different to this. It was too simple. They were both too complicated.

He didn't care. If this was all he was going to get, he'd take it for what it was. It was a moment that would not come again, he knew that for sure and rather than question, rather than fight it he fell into the simple pace of her breathing, his body matching hers with an ease he didn't think possible.

He pulled her body closer to hers, feeling her body shiver against his, her skin almost icy. He wanted to melt that ice, find a way to the flesh and blood. Maybe this was that happening. He wouldn't question it. He would just hold her because that's all he wanted to do and that terrified him. He just wanted to have her next to him and he knew that was wrong no matter how right it felt.

She was faintly aware of Remy's body pressed against hers, of his head resting on hers, her head nestled into the crook of his neck, her hands gripping his shirt in the dark, their hips pressed flush against each other. Rogue gave over to his inferno, loving the feeling of being burnt.