Author's Note: I am so sorry this took so long to upload! God, time flies! Please know that I haven't abandoned this story and I hope you all haven't either. Thanks for your patience!

French Translations:

Bien sûr-Of course

Merde-Shit

Monsieur-Sir

un problème-a problem

Parce que-Because

Désolé-Sorry

maintenant-now

Are you sure you can do this?

Remy smirked as Jean's voice filled his mind. Like a cat, he gracefully jumped into the darkened conveyor room. It hadn't been hard to get in—a few locks to pick, a window to deal with, nothing even a small child in the Thieves Guild couldn't handle—and in a matter of minutes, Remy had managed to find the main room where he figured the nano-bots were made.

Bien sûr, Jean, Gambit's done harder jobs den dis.

Just be careful, ok? And if you encounter any trouble, I want you to come back immediately.

Jean, you worry too much.

Remy, Rogue's already out of commission. The last I need is for someone else to be too.

He froze as he thought back to Rogue and how she had looked the last time he had seen her. She had been saving him from Logan's wrath, as usual. Her green eyes held a fiery determination as she forced Logan to spare Remy from certain death.

But behind those emerald eyes, he could see her breaking inside. He could tell that the pain was starting to consume her whole. Remy wanted nothing more than to comfort her in that moment, to wipe the beads of sweat off her forehead and let her rest knowing that he would be there to protect her. He knew that couldn't happen this time. Staying away from Rogue was the only way to keep her alive long enough to save her.

"Merde." Remy's whispered, his voice full of anger towards his lack of usefulness. He was truly pathetic. After all, this was his own fault to begin with and now he couldn't even be there next to Rogue. Was God punishing him for all his past sins? Was this the pain and suffering that one experienced in Hell?

"Please, Remy,"

And he was back in that room with Logan and Hank. Rogue ran in, saved him, and then she endangered herself even more when she had hugged him. Normally, Rogue avoided contact—always afraid she would hurt someone—but to see her reach out for him . . . that was painful. It was painful because he had to reject her. He had to turn her away for once. But her voice, so soft and quiet, begging him to help her.

"Please, Remy,"

He had to save her. There was no other option now. It was either save Rogue or take her place in death. He wasn't going to lose now, not when he loved her and she finally had reciprocated his feelings.

"Please, Remy," Her voice, calling to him to save her. "Please."

"And what do we have here?" Remy froze, his gloved fingertips, brushing against the deck of cards in the front pocket of his trench coat. How could he have been caught? Either he was losing his touch or this had been a set up.

Jean, Remy's got a problem.

There was no response.

Jean?

"Looking for these?" The man stepped into the light and Remy stiffened. In his hands were blueprints and it didn't take Remy long to know that those were the blueprints he needed. He was dressed in a black suit and had a bald head. "Hate to admit this, Mr. LeBeau, but I honestly wasn't expecting you." Remy froze at the use of his name. Who the hell was this man and how did he know Remy?

"Oh, Monsieur?" Remy played along, feigning nonchalance. "An' just who were you expecting?" His fingers gripped the edge of a few cards.

"An angry Canadian with claws perhaps," He smirked as he said this and it was starting to piss of Remy. "Or even a red-haired telepath, anyone but you . . ." He took a step forward and Remy maintained his position. "After all, encountering a Cajun thief wasn't part of my plan."

"Den we can make dis all very simple, Monsieur," Remy told him congenially. "You give moi dose plans et Gambit here'll be out of your way."

The man laughed. Remy prepared himself for a fight.

"Mr. LeBeau, you really think I would let you out of here with these?" He held them up in disbelief. "While I failed my client once, I will not fail again. While she is pleased that your little girlfriend will be dead, she specifically asked for you to be killed." The man slowly cracked his neck, a wicked grin on his face.

"Den we seem to have un problème, Monsieur," Remy finally pulled out some and let them glow bright pink. "Parce que Gambit ain't gonna be dying today."

"I would disagree," He smirked as he put his hand in his pocket. "Pity, I thought we could settle this peacefully."

"Désolé," Remy replied, but he too was smirking. He had been itching to punch this guy since he had started talking. "But Gambit'll be taking dose plans maintenant."

And then he charged.

Author's Note: Review please!