True Lies Chapter 12, a x-men: the movie fanfic

True Lies

Chapter 12:

By: Michelle2

Well, it has been 10 years. Time to get this story out of my head.

Note: This fanfic takes place 1 ½ years after X-men 2. While I enjoyed the various films since X-men 2, I always envisioned my trilogy as the sequels. The imagination is awesome.

True Lies is the third part of my trilogy. Part 1: The Truth Hurts. Part 2: Sweet Little Lies.

As always: I don't own the characters or make money off my fanfics. I enjoy having fun.

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Saturday afternoon…

Xavier slid a plate of food over to Sabretooth. The man was in the corner carving images in the floor of the cell. It was obvious he smelt his presence, but he didn't acknowledge him.

Xavier had been in and out of the holding area for most of the morning, while Logan watched from a distance. Xavier had been warned, but still he continued to press on. While he couldn't read Creed's mind, there was countdown going on inside him. Time was slipping away. S.H.I.E.L.D. was growing impatient.

Sabretooth glanced up to see the plate before him. He extended his nail, dragging the plate closer to him. He chuckled. A shadow cast on half his face, but the wicked smile gleamed.

"Is there something that amuses you, Victor Creed?" Xavier asked.

"I was just picturing how you must pace around the floor without legs," Sabretooth replied. He stabbed a carrot and examined it.

Xavier folded his hands in his lap. Watching Sabretooth's interactions were more informative than reading his mind, but he needed the man to talk. "We need to talk to you."

Sabretooth flicked the carrot across the cell. "I told you; I'll talk to Gambit."

"I know," Xavier replied. "Consider this the opening to negotiations."

"Negotiations," Sabretooth said. "I'm not a negotiator."

"You never struck me as such," Xavier replied. He went for the man's emotions this time. "But we need to discuss Clarice."

Sabretooth paused and looked up at Xavier. His black eyes softened for a moment. The little girl's name brought a brief change in the man. "What about her?"

"You know where you are going once you leave here."

"Of course," Sabretooth stood up and walked over to the bars. "Another prison…A temporary home with free room and board…A cell can't hold me long."

Xavier knew that was true. Sabretooth had too many connections to stay locked up for long. He'd serve some time until someone released him for hire. "Be that as it may, Clarice shouldn't suffer for your mistakes."

"Agreed," Sabretooth tilted his head.

"As a mutant, Clarice will not likely be adopted or be safe in foster care. I want to make her a ward of the school here," Xavier admitted. "However, your marriage to Raven Darkholme puts Clarice at an advantage, should you agree."

Sabretooth rolled his eyes. "Clarice would go to family—Raven's family."

"Kurt Wagner is the eldest living relative."

Sabretooth backed away from the cell bars. His black eyes fixated on Xavier. "Why would I agree to that? Kurt means nothing to me."

"He has experience with children. His own daughter is the same age," Xavier reminded him.

"And if I don't agree."

"Clarice still remains at the school."

"With Kurt…as a ward of the school…" Sabretooth shook his head. "Doesn't seem like this negotiation is in my favor."

"It is in Clarice's best interest," Xavier said. "This is the offer."

As Xavier wheeled away, he could feel Sabretooth's anger building inside him.

X****************XMEN********************X

Ororo brushed her hair with her fingers, waiting for the meeting the Professor Xavier and Remy. She'd prefer to be in bed, reading a good book and enjoying the quiet time Kurt insisted she have, but instead, she had to be present because she was Remy's mentor and sponsor.

Remy walked in Xavier's office decked out in LSU attire—the purple and gold jersey and matching bandana didn't make him look like a junior staff member at the school. However, it was football season, and Remy wasn't going to miss an LSU or Saints game. Besides, it was the weekend. "'Sup Stormy?"

"Don't call me that," Ororo corrected him, even though she knew her attempts were fruitless. "How has your morning been?"

"Long," Remy replied, as he took a seat. "Rogue and I dun some talkin'. Mon père called too."

Ororo smiled. It had been a while since Remy talked to his father. "So how did it go?"

Remy shrugged. "D'accord…We dun talked for a while 'bout a few t'ings. He been wantin' me ta come down dere—outside de city—fa Christmas."

Ororo's eyes widened. She knew what visited his family meant to him. He hadn't seen anyone in over three years. "That's a big step."

"Oui," Remy nodded. He turned to her with a look a fear in his eyes. "He wanna meet Rogue."

"Oh." That was not something she expected. "What did Rogue say about this?"

"Ain't told her yet. I ain't said I'm goin' neither," Remy replied. "Don't know what ta t'ink or do…What'd ya do?"

"Well…" Ororo thought for a moment. "If I had the opportunity to visit my family or home, I'd take it. I wouldn't let the opportunity pass me by, especially if I could share it with Kurt."

Remy's leg shook. He was quiet and contemplating her suggestion.

"Good afternoon, Ororo. Remy," Xavier wheeled in his office. "I apologize for the wait."

Ororo patted her friend's leg, calming his nerves. "It's no problem, Professor."

"Thank you," Xavier replied, as he pulled out Remy's file. "Let's get down to business, Remy." He leaned forward, folded his hands, and stared at the younger mutant. "As a junior staff member of the school, I expect you to conduct yourself in professional manner when you are in the classroom. Your behavior this week was disappointing. Since you do not have a degree in education, you are already on a probationary tract each year you are hired for up to three years."

Remy shifted in his seat. He hated lectures, but he knew it was going to happen. "I understand the conditions of my employment."

"Then you understand I do not tolerate drinking during school hours. While I cannot stop what you do your own time, you will not teach while intoxicated or hungover. Do I make myself clear?"

"I understand."

"Then you also understand that this incident will go on your record for this academic year."

"Oui."

"And that another grievous offense during this period will result in suspension of employment and in the future possible termination."

"Oui," Remy replied.

Ororo stared at her friend. It was true. Remy understood the severity of the issue. This was a wakeup call for him.

"Ororo, do you have anything to add?" Xavier asked, turning his attention to her.

"I think the terms and conditions are clear as far as what is expected," Ororo sighed. "But if I am understanding correctly, if Remy has no more offenses by the end of the school year, then he will start with a clean slate the following academic year."

"Yes, that is correct," Xavier turned back to Remy.

Ororo looked to her friend for a response.

"I won't screw up, Ororo," Remy replied to appease her concerns. "I know dere be a lot at stake here."

Ororo nodded, but she knew what was at stake was more than his employment. He was thinking bigger—something in the future. "Is there anything else, Professor?"

"Remy, later this week, I want to review with you what courses you need to complete to earn your degree in secondary education," Xavier added. "I also need copies of your lesson plans for both your classes. I have your plans up to Thanksgiving, but I want to double-check your lessons between Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks prior to instruction."

"De French course lesson plans are complete, but I need ta proofread dem," Remy replied. "I'm havin' a harder time wit de cooking course, particularly wit how ta evaluate culinary skills. Thinkin' I need outside feedback from ot'er instructors who be willin' ta taste test food."

"That can be arranged," Xavier nodded. He seemed impressed with Remy's willingness to cooperate—Ororo knew she was. "I'll put you down for a meeting at three o'clock on Wednesday. I want you to present some of your ideas and turn in your lesson plans for discussion. And, we will discuss your progress on your degree."

"Oui, Monsieur."

Remy stood up to leave, and Ororo grabbed his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Oui, Stormy," he said, mentioning his nickname for her as a way to lighten the mood. He seemed more upset with himself than she was expecting. "It be a long day. Just ready to watch de game. I be fine."

"Okay, you take it easy," Ororo said, letting him go. He exited the room, leaving her alone with Professor Xavier. She turned back to her mentor and ran her fingers though her hair. She examined the split ends.

"You think I was too hard on him, don't you?" Xavier said.

Ororo stopped playing with the ends of her hair. "No Professor, I think you were fair. I think he is harder on himself more than anything."

"He's come a long way, Ororo."

It was true. While Remy was still a wild one, he matured a lot in his stay. Rogue was good influence, too.

"Plus, I see a lot of potential in him," Xavier admitted. "I just don't think he sees it in himself."

"I know, but he is not like the rest of us. I think he is conflicted by the words of his father and what is right and wrong," Ororo reminded him. "He came from a household that encourages negative activities."

"You were the same way."

Ororo smiled. It was a part of her past she didn't like to talk about, but it did shape her. "I know, and it took a good mentor to guide me on the right path."

"And I am proud of the woman you became," Xavier smiled at her. "Now, how are you feeling?"

"Horrible," Ororo replied honestly. "I feel like at any minute I could be sick…and have been."

Xavier chuckled. "This is going to be quite the experience for all of us. You realize the last pregnant woman in the mansion was my mother."

"So I'm making history," Ororo smiled. In her head, she tried to calculate his age. "Professor…"

"You haven't told Kurt yet, have you?"

"No." Ororo felt ashamed. She had known for almost a week—Hank knew, Xavier knew, possibly Logan—but not Kurt. "I planned to tell him tonight during our date night. With Wanda not taking Talia for her weekend, those plans seem to go out the window. Plus, we've been caring for Clarice."

"You will find the right time to tell him."

"I know," Ororo replied. "Hank already pulled me off of X-men duties, but I still have to tell the team, too."

"Things will be taken care of in the order they need to be," Xavier assured her. "You don't need to stress out about anything. Find some time to spend with Kurt to talk to him. Any of us will be willing to take the girls, so the two of you can have alone time. You just have to ask."

"Thank you, Professor," Ororo felt one less weight on her shoulders. "And about Sabretooth."

Xavier's eyes looked heavy and worried when he spoke. "I am working on it, and Emma Frost has been on the phone with S.H.I.E.L.D. most of the day. We are doing all we can to get him transferred as soon as possible."

"That's all I ask."

X****************XMEN*******************X

Sabretooth slouched down in the corner of the cell. His plate of food was at his feet, but he was no longer hungry. He cursed them all, especially Raven and her lover.

It was a hot day in Mississippi—the middle of the day too. Raven was gone, but her scent was fresh. She lived there with her lover. The house was old, but clean. He couldn't imagine Raven being a happy homemaker, but for the right partner, he knew she was capable. She had always been too "busy" when it came to them—their home—their life—their child.

He paused in front the fireplace. Pictures adorned the mantel. Four of Irene's family—her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson. One of Kurt, a blurry image taken during a trip to the circus. Five of the same little girl, just at different ages. None of their son.

He picked up the picture of the girl. She had green eyes and short brown hair. Raven always wanted a girl. Their son was never enough. In the corner of his eyes, he caught movement.

The elder woman stirred in the kitchen, taking in every detail with senses she had left. She grabbed her cup of coffee—two creams and 1 packet of sugar-off the counter and used her cane as a guide to her favorite chair in the living room.

After she sat, Irene took a sip of her coffee. She used both hands to steady the cup. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but she seemed to know which direction to face when she addressed him, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Victor Creed?"

He underestimated the woman's abilities. "How did you know who I am?"

Irene placed the cup of coffee on an end table next to her chair. Her hands shook from age not from fear. "It was either you or James who knew about me and Raven. The cigar you smoked was a giveaway, and since James can't remember much, I figured it was you.

"Do you mind?" Irene asked, extending her hand to him. She was bold to reach out to him. He understood Raven's appeal in her.

"So Raven finally got the little girl she wanted."

"For a time," Irene admitted. She followed his every move as he inched closer to her. "We took in Rogue when her father was unable. Took the man nine years to decide to be a father. He came for her six months ago."

"Lucky him. Raven never asked me about kids," he replied. He thought about the disguise she wore the night they met. "Where is Raven?"

"She went to the Wal-Mart to buy some groceries. She should be back in ten minutes. You are welcome to wait if you'd like," Irene replied, taking the picture from him.

He studied the lines in her face. She was pushing eighty, but she wasn't a frail old woman. There was a lot of spunk left in her.

"Since you don't plan to go anytime soon, why don't you tell me about yourself, Victor."

"You mean Raven doesn't speak of me."

"Rarely. I know you take private contracts now."

"I do. Just got back from one in Paris," he chuckled at the thought. "Should have seen this punk. Some seventeen year old thief from New Orleans. Cocky little shit didn't know what hit him."

"Thief from New Orleans," Irene traced the picture frame with her fingers. She seemed to know something he didn't. "Interesting."

He walked around the room, tracing his claws on the walls and bookshelf. Irene didn't say a thing. She just stared at him, as if she could see his every move.

His claw caught on one of the books, pulling it out of the shelf. It opened up to reveal two images. "Raven still messing with these things?" he said as he picked up the diary. He knew what it was and what it did to his wife.

"Not since she left you," Irene admitted. "But I hid most of them from her to avoid troubling her mind. She takes them to heart, you know."

"Sometimes, she cared more about these things than our marriage. It was an obsession," he studied the pictures.

"What do you see?"

He glanced at her. A sinister smile curved her lips. Did she know that would happen? How much of the future did she know? "On the left, four graves. The right…a pile of rubble."

"One, two, three, four…It all comes tumbling down."

He slammed the diary closed, noting the 6 that indicated the volume. "I'm too old for a bunch of nursery rhymes."

"What's wrong, Victor? Were you afraid to turn the page?"

The conversation grew stale with her. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to smell blood. "Tell me, Irene. How do I die?" he asked, crouching down in front of her. "One last vision for me."

Irene raised her hand and concentrated. "Which time?"

"I can't die…not fully."

"But you can be slowed," she warned. Her thin fingers touched between his right eye and temple. "James…three claws here…shouldn't have messed with Raven's children."

He grabbed her hand. It wouldn't take much to crush it with just one squeeze. "How do you die? How do you want to die?" he growled.

"Not by your hand."

"We'll see about that," he extended his claws ready to swipe, but then he heard her.

"Irene, I didn't buy skim milk," Raven said as she placed grocery bags on the kitchen table. "I didn't see one with a date I liked, so I bought 1%. I hope that is okay."

"It sounds fine, my dear," he replied.

Raven stepped into the living room, and her eyes widened in fear. "Victor, what are you doing here?" Her disguise faded away.

He released Irene and focused on her. "I missed you, dear."

Sabretooth looked up from the corner of the cell. Logan leaned on the wall with a cigar in his hand. "How's it going, Jimmy?"

Logan's eyes met his, and he stuck the cigar in his mouth before he spoke. "You know my name, Creed."

"I know my name, but you don't seem to be so sure of yours," he replied. "What's the matter? Can't remember."

Logan lit the end of the cigar. He puffed and blew smoke in the air. Sabretooth longed for more than just the scent of a good cigar.

"You tease," he said. "Is that a Cuban?"

"Why does it matter?" Logan asked. He puffed away. He was trying to tantalize him, but it wasn't going to work.

"I love the smell," Sabretooth replied. He stood up and walked slowly over to the bars. "I love all the way you smell."

Logan blew the smoke in his direction and stepped back from the bars. "How do I smell, Creed?"

"Cubans, sushi, and sweat…"

Logan grunted.

"All of you have a distinct smell," Sabretooth added. He raised his hand up, watching his claws extend at the thought of their blood. "I know who comes and who goes. I know when they fear…when they feel joy…I know when they have a lot to lose.

"It'd be a shame if something happened to my daughter-in-law, wouldn't it?" he teased, tracing his claws on the bars. "Something like her…losing the baby."

Logan pulled the cigar out his mouth. That comment got his attention.

"You think because I'm in a cell I don't know anything going on…I smell her…such a pretty weather goddess…I wonder how she tastes…

"What's the matter, Jimmy? You jealous of your friend…of what he has?

"Yes…Yes you are…

"You know guys like us can't have nice things…have wives or children…"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "This coming from the man who married Mystique and had a kid with her."

Sabretooth chuckled. "Everyone has a weakness. My lust for Mystique happens to be mine. But you…you are different. You want what you can never have, and when you try to have something, it all goes wrong…people die."

"What do you know about me?"

"I know you fear I will take everything away from you…Everything…Iike I did before…"

X****************XMEN*******************X

Remy met Rogue in the hallway in front of Xavier's office. She was dressed for her session with Logan—black yoga pants, a black sports' bra, and black gloves up to her elbows. He would have said something suggestive to get her to blush, but he wasn't in the mood.

"How did it go?" Rogue said. The white streaks that didn't fit in her ponytail framed her face.

Remy pinched his brow. He was ashamed to talk to her about it, but when he lowered his hand and looked into her emerald eyes, he knew he had to be honest. "Xavier made himself clear."

"I don't understand," Rogue stared at him, searching for more than what he offered.

"Basically, if I screw up again, I can be suspended from teaching…even fired," Remy replied.

Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. That was not the face he wanted to see from her. He liked teaching—sort of—he liked feeling useful and needed; he liked feeling he could be more than what his father expected him to be; he enjoyed being respected and admired, especially by her.

"I'm fine, Chère," Remy said. He pulled her close to him, trying to soothe her worries. "Had me a bad week. I start fresh on Monday."

Rogue smiled. He knew she wanted to kiss him to take all his worries away. She knew him more than anyone; she was the only woman he let close to him. "I love you. I know you'll have a better week."

The words brought a smile to his face. She believed in him; Ororo believed in him; Xavier believed in him. Why couldn't he believe in himself? Damn, I need a cigarette.

"Je t'aime," he kissed the top of her head and grabbed her hands. "I gotta git. Hank wants me ta replace some cameras by Ororo's room."

"Okay. After my spar with Logan, I'm going to have some girl time with J.P, Jubilee, and Kitty," Rogue said. "Is that alright?"

"Oui, and I be watchin' de game later, so ya have fun." I need a cigarette.

She kissed the corner of his mouth—a little tease of what she really wanted to do. "I'll see you later."

I need a cigarette. Remy watched her walk down the hallway. I need a cigarette. His head throbbed as the craving grew stronger. I need a cigarette.

He took his time meeting with Hank. He got a cup of coffee—no cream or sugar, just black. It was one way to appease the craving and reduce the pounding in his head. I need a cigarette.

X****************XMEN********************X

"T.J., stop jumping on the bed!" Kurt fussed as he struggled to contain his daughter's energy.

"No nap. Sun's up," Talia replied, jumping out of his reach.

Kurt was amazed by the difference in the two girls' personalities. While Talia fought him on every issue from taking a nap to sitting still for five seconds, Clarice had to be told once to lay down for a nap. He didn't understand how someone like Sabretooth raised a well-respected little one when the man himself couldn't stay out of trouble.

"Stop jumping," Clarice fussed, also annoyed by her friend's behavior. "Your daddy said to stop. Why don't you listen?"

Kurt took in a deep breath.

"Can't get me," Talia giggled, noting her father's growing frustration.

Kurt could have easily teleported and grabbed her, but that would have been the easy way—it also would have left the scent of brimstone and sulfur in the room. "TALIA JOSEPHINE WAGNER."

The mention of her full name caused her to halt. She slammed down on the bed and gave him her best puppy-dog eyes.

"It's time for a nap," Kurt said, trying not to let his frustration show as he tucked her in next to Clarice.

X****************XMEN********************X

"Hank," Remy called out as he entered the security room; he finished up his coffee, tossing the empty foam cup in the trash as he walked in. Cameras lined the walls and recorded various activities around the mansion. He shook his head, noting the two unresponsive cameras by Ororo and Kurt's room and the blindspot in the right wing that he repeatedly warned the blue furry mutant about.

Then, Camera 89 quickly captured his attention. Sabretooth paced back and forth in his cell like a lion stalking its prey. The glimpse of the man made him uneasy. Sabretooth didn't just know him; he knew some of his secrets—the ones he wanted no one to find out about; the ones he wanted to forget; the ones that kept him up some nights.

"I'm here," Hank stepped out a storage closet with a tablet in one hand and a Twinkie in the other. "This tablet idea of yours was brilliant. I can walk around the mansion, be in my lab, and my classroom and see everything and control the cameras if needed."

"Oui," Remy replied in agreement. They had synced the security to the tablet about a month ago, and it worked like a charm. "I'd take de credit, homme, but it be my cousin's idea." He turned away from the image of Sabretooth.

"Tell your cousin his suggestion is most appreciated," Hank said with a mouthful of Twinkie. He handed Remy the tablet.

Remy looked at the tablet's screen. Blue fur stuck to the sticky prints left by his colleague. "Really, Henri," he fussed, finding a wipe to clean the tablet. "How many times I gotta tell ya 'bout eatin' 'round de equipment?"

"It wipes right off," Hank protested. He pulled out another Twinkie.

"Problems homme?" Remy asked.

Hank kept a cheery disposition despite all that had happened in the past three months. He personally knew two of the three Avengers whom died, and the third was an acquaintance. In addition, he and Trish Tilby called it quits. Her job and his commitment to the school made it difficult to have a relationship. Hank called it a break, but everyone in the mansion knew it was more than that.

"I t'ink ya have an addiction, mon ami," Remy said as he cleaned the tablet's screen. After a minute of cursing under his breath, he could finally see clear images.

"I don't have an addiction," Hank replied, understanding Remy's connection.

"And how many y'ate of dem today?"

"Two."

"Cases?"

"Double packs."

"Y'ain't a good liar, homme," Remy replied. "How 'bout we turned de tables and cut ya off cold turkey."

"If you are implying my indulgence in Twinkies is equivalent to a cigarette, you, my friend, are mistaken," Hank defended.

Remy smirked. "Ya said it, not me. And speakin' of cigarettes, I could use one durin' de game dis evenin'. LSU vs. 'Bama." he laid in the charm thick. "Helps me relax when de refs call stupid plays."

"No," Hank was firm in his reply. He knew Remy well enough to not give into his charm. "And if you want to relax during the game, you need to stop bouncing around and yelling at the television, as if the referees can hear you. Besides, I disposed all those filthy things, so you can't be tempted, especially when the Saints play Monday night."

"I really hate you right now, mon ami," Remy gripped. "And we was robbed. Shoulda bin in de Superbowl."

"You are not going to let that go, are you?" he said, disappearing in the storage room.

"NON!" Remy exclaimed. Damn NFC Championship game! He calmed himself down before he accidentally charged something. "Where are de new cameras fa Ororo's hallway?"

"Right here," Hank said, coming out of the storage room with two boxes.

Remy rolled his eyes as he took the boxes. "Why can't we git de good cameras?"

"These are good cameras."

"Dis will be de third time I replaced dese cameras in de same hallway," Remy argued. "Can't ya git a different brand…Can't Tony Stark hook us up?"

"Starks' cameras aren't a fit for the mansion," Hank replied. "Besides, we can't afford them."

"I can make dem affordable," Remy smirked. "Five finger discount."

"No."

"Just sayin'."

X****************XMEN********************X

Logan shook his hand out from Rogue's punch. She excelled at hand to hand combat, but she had trouble controlling her own strength. The boxing glove did little to cushion her blows.

"Sorry," Rogue held her fists up. She remembered never to let her guard down. At least she listened to some things he told her.

"You gotta ease up on them punches," Logan reminded her as he stood in a defensive stance. "The goal is not to punch me through a wall, but to practice your swings and form."

Rogue nodded, and she attacked again. Her training with him and Remy did a lot to improve her skills. She was more confident in defending herself and moved lighter on her feet.

"Better," Logan said, as the bell rang. Her one-on-one time was up, but she wasn't done with her yet. "You need to learn how to control the force behind your movements. Too much or too little will put yourself or others in a dangerous situation. You need more self-control."

"Says the man who ripped apart a hologram of Sabretooth an hour ago," Rogue said. She picked up a Gatorade and took a sip.

"Control is me ripping apart a hologram," Logan reminded her. "Self-control is letting Sabretooth live this long."

Rogue wiped the sweat from her face with a towel. "Is Professor Xavier trying to get him transferred?"

Logan took a sip of his own drink. "He's trying to get Sabretooth transferred. He's been in and out of the holding area trying to wear him down. I don't know if Creed will take the bait. He's been adamant about speaking only to Remy."

Rogue sat on the bench and looked down at her gloved hands. The young woman was physically invulnerable, until it came to her boyfriend. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wants Remy to talk to him, don't they?"

"Yes."

"If they put Remy in there…" Rogue paused. He could see the tears swelling in her eyes. "I'm afraid, Logan."

"Rogue," Logan sat down next to her. "We might need him to talk to him…it may be the only way."

Rogue nodded. She knew Logan wasn't going to lie to her. He would have thought of another way. "Sabretooth is playing a game with us, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Logan replied. He patted her on the shoulder; he wasn't good at the fatherly stuff. "Why don't you go clean up? I got to spar with Drake and then Lorna."

Rogue got up and walked out the gym.

"A game," Logan traced his fingers on his chin. "Maybe it is time to play a game of our own."

X****************XMEN*******************X

After nap time, Talia and Clarice were even more energetic than before. Kurt smiled as he watched the two of them jump on the trampoline rather than the bed.

"Watch me, Vati." Talia said, and she did a flip. "Tadah!"

"Very good, T.J." Kurt praised her. "Pretty zoon you can be a star in zhe cricus."

"Like you," Talia exclaimed. "I be bester."

"What about me?" Clarice asked. She jumped and flipped. "Tadah!"

"Oh my goodness. Two stars," Kurt replied. "Vhat a performance. I don't know vhat I'm going to do."

Talia and Clarice continued to bounce and try to impress him. Kurt couldn't help but about Clarice. She was Talia's age, and she got along great with her. Even Talia enjoyed her company. Talia needed someone her own age to play with.

Kurt sighed. He and Ororo had talked about children. Expanding his family was something he always saw in his future. His role as an X-men made the world a better place for his family—or at least that was the main goal. He enjoyed serving others; the missions were important to him. Teaching also gave him great pleasure.

Yet while serving as an X-man opened the door to numerous opportunities, it was made life more complicated. He longed for simplicity. He longed for no worries. He just wanted to enjoy the little things…he wanted to enjoy his time with his family.

"Vati look! I jump vay high!"

X****************XMEN*******************X

Remy climbed to the top of the ladder and straddled it. Alex steadied the ladder, griping about Scott's looming presence during the morning. The conversation didn't spark his interest, but Alex was the closest one his age. He tried to be friendly with the man when possible, and Hank insisted Alex help with the cameras.

Remy unplugged the security camera and examined its contents. His cousin, Emil Lapin, suggested the problem with the failing cameras along the wall could be a power surge, a plausible explanation considering a pregnant, mood-swinging goddess's room was on the other side. The camera was fried, but he didn't understand why the other ones in the hallway didn't suffer the same fate.

"I swear all Lorna and I did was spend the night talking," Alex complained. "But Scott makes a big deal about it. It's like he doesn't trust me. Do you know what it is like for someone not to trust you?"

"Ya realize I'm a t'ief, right?" Remy said, as he tossed down the camera.

Alex caught the camera. "But Ororo isn't up your ass every five minutes."

"That's because she rotates shifts with Kurt and Logan," Remy replied. "Toss me up the new camera."

Alex opened the camera box and tossed Remy the camera. He steadied the ladder, bracing against the wall while catching it with this free hand.

"I came here to work with Hank while completing my master's degree. I didn't sign up for receiving the third degree from my brother," Alex said. "Professor Xavier is interested in signing me on as a full-time instructor once I earn my degree and maybe teach a class in the spring, but how can I work with Scott everyday if he bothers me now?"

Remy shrugged. He didn't know, and he didn't care. The sooner he switched out the cameras, the sooner he could watch college football. Apparently, Alex didn't get the memo or understand the significance of his LSU jersey.

"Professor Xavier's been asking you about becoming full-time too?"

"Oui, but I ain't answered him yet. The Prof says I got like 50 or so hours left to take to earn an education degree. Gonna talk ta me 'bout it mid-week," Remy replied. He connected the camera to the wires and checked the tablet. He waited for the camera image to appear on the screen.

"What about Rogue?"

"She wants ta earn her degree in secondary education and teach here," Remy answered. Paying attention to the camera image on the tablet, he positioned the camera to maximize its range. "I support dat. She's talking about takin' 18 credit hours in the spring, and then she wanna take summer classes again."

"That's quite a load," Alex replied. "You think that's wise with her taking on so much…you know she can stress herself out by the time June and July roll around."

"Try telling her dat. But she's got more focus on school dan I," Remy said, walking down the ladder. "Dat's one down. One to go."

"So you're going to stay here, and both of you are going to teach?" Alex asked, helping Remy move the ladder down the hall to the second camera.

"I guess," Remy shrugged. Teaching full-time wasn't something he thought about doing for the rest of his life. He was a thief…no he was an X-man…his head spun. He wasn't sure.

"So when are you two going to get married?"

Remy lined up the ladder for easy access to the camera. He had thought about marriage to Rogue, but being married to another woman made things complicated. Yes, he had a ring, but he had a lot of things to work out before he reached that point. He hadn't even talked to her about meeting his father yet. He climbed up the ladder and offered a good excuse. "We've been dating for six months. Dere be no need fa rush."

"Yeah, but I thought with Rogue being pregnant an all…"

Pregnant? Remy missed the next step on the ladder, causing him to lose his balance. He fell off, but his cat-like reflexes helped him land on his feet. The ladder slammed into the wall, punching a hole in it. "What de hell ya talkin' 'bout?"

Alex held up his hands. "I thought you knew?"

"Knew what?" Remy's eyes blazed. There were enough rumors going around the mansion about he and Rogue. This one was not funny.

"I thought you knew about her being pregnant," Alex admitted. "There were like five pregnancy tests in the med-lab…all positive."

"Those ain't Rogue's," Remy corrected. He felt his head throb. Where's a cigarette when I need one? Damn you, Hank!

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Well, that wraps up chapter 12.

Thanks for taking the time to read my fanfic!

On to completing chapter 13….