Thanks/AN

Thank you to the following (in no particular order) for feeding the little wicked demon last chapter: Malice Shaw, RRL24, TrOuBLeDObSeSSioN, E, AmberLady42, couplest, EraticMind, Chica De Lost Ojos Café, and Ardhoniel Marvelite. It greatly enjoyed its little trick but has a full tummy now and will go back to sleep (for a while). Warrior-princess1980, I didn't forget about you in any context but I have a special nod for you in this chapter that I hope will make you happy. ;D

Thank you to all the anonymous readers too. Just knowing you're out there and still sticking with this keeps me going for all y'all as well.

Side Note – I have an unusual schedule over the next two weeks, so it may be a little bit before the next update. It's the one everyone's been waiting for though and will be worth the delay. On the upside, Mr. & Mrs. X #5 comes out on Wednesday, so "Rogue's funeral...or...maybe something else instead" should keep us all tided over, maybe...?


Chapter 28

Etienne slammed the door of the hotel room as he stormed into the suite. They'd changed to nicer accommodations forty minutes away from both the club and their original motel. The new destination served as a means to throw off anyone who might have followed them. After Etienne successfully nabbed the speak, he'd taken a circuitous route to the location. It was no surprise when he saw that Remy had beaten him to their rendezvous. From the state of his relaxed attire and damp hair, he'd been there for quite some time already.

"What de hell did y' do?" Etienne immediately lit into his cousin, referencing his behavior back at the club.

Not taking his eyes off the TV, Remy distractedly answered, "Rien."

"Rien? Vaut-rien is more like it." The younger man furiously fired back. It was the first derogatory name he'd ever called his cousin. "I saw y' go in de room wit' de redhead."

"So?" Remy continued to mindlessly channel surf, comfortably numb in his vegetative state.

Frustrated with the lack of reaction he was getting, Etienne stomped between the TV and his cousin to block the screen. His hands were balled into fists at his side. Righteous indignation flamed in his eyes as he quietly seethed, "Did y' forget y' have une femme at home? Une femme who don't deserve that?"

Remy briefly flicked his gaze to his towering cousin before craning around to focus back on the TV. It was the only acknowledgement he gave Etienne's insolence.

Not feeling the need to explain, he only said, "Y' don't know what yo' talkin' 'bout."

"Connerie!" Etienne shouted. "Even if I don't know what y' did behind closed doors, I know what I saw when I arrived. Y' practically had her tits in yo' mouth!"

The profanity coming from his normally mild mannered cousin finally garnered a reaction out of Remy. He'd never heard Etienne use such coarse language in all his life. And while he was way off base with his accusation, Remy wasn't completely innocent of the charge.

"Un," He started, rising to get in the other man's face, "it's none of yo' business. Et deux, even if it was, she climbed onto me."

Etienne threw his hands up in the air and looked toward the ceiling. "Plus du conneries! Ain't that always de cheater's excuse? Besides, goin' out on a contract ain't a free pass t' do whatever y' want."

"Non. Mais, sometimes y' have t' play a part t' blend in t' de crowd." Remy said, referencing a thief's need to live and breathe the cover story.

He wasn't even going to touch the cheating accusation because he knew Etienne was only looking out for Rogue. It was a quality he appreciated and reaffirmed why he considered his younger cousin to be one of his best friends.

"Maybe yes, maybe no." Etienne conceded, not really interested in the general morality of a thief's life. "Mais, yo' marriage vows shouldn't be compromised just t' keep up some stupid alias."

Anger flared in Remy's eyes as his cousin continued to push the issue. The fact of the matter was that Etienne had no clue what Remy had been thinking back at that club. How Rogue's face had never left his mind; how the feel of her body had never left his memory. Or how he'd felt sick to his stomach by not discouraging another woman to practically fuck him, all for the sake of the guild's reputation. Nor would he share that level of personal detail with his cousin. So instead, he deflected the accusation away from himself.

"And that's why y' barely passed yo' Tillin'." It was a low blow and Remy winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Etienne's jaw dropped and he stared agape. Remy had always been the only family member to stand up for him, to defend him. That was, until Rogue came along and treated him like a person instead a failure that everyone tiptoed around. 'Poor little Etienne, not good enough to be a master thief but too closely related by blood to be exiled.'

Physically shaking off the terrible thoughts, Etienne threw the speak onto the couch where Remy had been sitting and marched over to the closet where they'd stowed their bags. Remy closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before following him.

"Et, I didn't mean it." He stood behind his cousin as the younger man clumsily grabbed his stuff.

Not even bothering to turn around, Etienne answered, "Oui, y' did."

Remy realized his cousin was about to walk out the door and who knew into what trouble. His overprotectiveness took over and he clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Etienne's mad dash was temporarily halted as he stood up but refused to face his new guildmaster.

On a sigh, Remy said, "Je m'excuse. I only meant that yo' better than de rest of us. Yo' still a thief, but y' have higher ethics when it comes t' how y' execute yo' contracts."

Etienne shoved off his cousin's grip as he quickly spun around. "Ouais, I know all 'bout that. How everyone thinks I'm soft. Weak. Compared t' de rest of y', maybe I am."

Remy opened his mouth, ready to assuage the feelings of inadequacy, but Etienne held up his hand to cut him off. "But that flaw is balanced wit' de advantage of noticin' things of greater value. Things that all y' other thieves miss because they ain't profitable. Things that should be cherished and protected, like de love of a good woman. So ouais, I'd rather have that than be a master thief."

"It ain't like that." Remy answered, feeling guilty that he'd hurt his cousin by not providing at least some explanation of his actions.

Motioning toward the couch, the invitation to sit and listen remained unspoken as the two men sized each other up. After a few tense seconds, Etienne nodded and walked over to flop on the couch. Remy joined him, sitting on the edge. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands threaded through his hair.

"What I said was true. She initiated it all," Etienne started to object but Remy rushed forward. "But yo' right. I didn't stop it. I couldn't. Not wit'out drawin' attention t' myself. And since it was more important t' provide y' cover, I had t' go wit' de flow so neither of us would get blown-up. Toussaint did a hell of a job messin' this whole thing up once already. We didn't need de same thing happenin' twice."

A whoosh sounded from Etienne as he leaned heavily into the couch cushions. "I didn't think of it that way."

Remy looked at his cousin, a small sardonic smile barely lifting the corner of his mouth. His expression reiterated the intent of mentioning the Tilling in the first place.

Understanding dawned in Etienne's eyes and his cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Remy hadn't been calling into question his nabbing skills but rather the lack of insight he had with tactics. A master thief required both or else he wouldn't live to see his next heist.

Etienne mulled that over for a few moments before he remembered that Remy's cover involved more than the indiscretion of a make out session. Some of the old resentment flared to life in his eyes again.

"Mais, that don't explain why y' went back in de champagne room wit' her." He said.

Remy had to suppress another sigh to spare his cousin further embarrassment. "Y' had it right when y' said y' don't know what I did behind closed doors. After y' followed de mark into yo' own room, I asked Red t' get my drink, some blow, and one or two of her friends. I'd already flashed de black Amex, so she knew de party was on me."

Etienne raised an eyebrow at his cousin's request for cocaine. Other than alcohol and cigarettes, he knew his cousin didn't partake in illegal drugs. It was surprising to hear he'd asked for it.

Waving off the silent question, Remy dismissed it as he continued his explanation. "I picked things that I knew would take her a li'l time t' round up. A place like that wit' an exclusive membership and sex as a perk definitely operates in other illegal substances. Anyway once she left, I swept de room, shimmied up int' de air ducts over t' yo' room, and planted de touts to watch y' remotely. I also checked on y' firsthand t' make sure y' were okay."

The blush deepened on Etienne's face, rattled that he doubted his cousin's intent to watch his back. Or that he'd take advantage of the situation to be unfaithful. He knew Remy and Rogue didn't have the best of relationship, but Etienne was ashamed he'd assumed the worst.

Looking down into his lap, he asked, "Why didn't y' just tell me that when I got here?"

His mortification only deepened when he realized that he'd demanded an explanation from not only his older, more experienced cousin, but also his new guildmaster. When Remy didn't answer, Etienne looked up to see him wince and shrug one shoulder.

'Didn't want y' t' feel bad,' Remained unspoken between them.

"D'accord." Flushing anew and dropping the subject, Etienne instead asked, "So why were y' so grumpy 'bout it then?"

"I wasn't grumpy." Remy rebuffed, but Etienne just gave him a look that said otherwise.

With a little huff, he said, "After I knew y' were gon' be okay and y' were wrappin' up, I tried t' sneak out. Apparently, there's a rivalry at de club that involves stealin' regulars. Some brunette was on de other side of de door when I opened it and she flung herself at me. Red saw de whole thing and threw my drink at us before flingin' de coke over de whiskey. Waste of good blow, too."

A barking laugh escaped Etienne as he imagined the vivid scene. He didn't want to know how Remy knew whether the cocaine was quality or not, so he chose to focus on the illicit version of a modern day tar and feathering.

"Ta gueule!" Remy snarked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Needless t' say, I took a shower as soon as I got here."

Also needless to say, he'd taken matters into his own hands to relieve the painful arousal he'd received at the club. In the privacy of the steam shower, he'd imagined Rogue's gorgeous breasts in his hands, her long, lean legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself in her tight, welcoming warmth. But that was another thing he wasn't about to share with his cousin. Instead, he decided to give Etienne crap over the three blondes that had entered his champagne room with him.

"Speakin' of showers, y' sure y' don't want t' take one before we head out?" Remy asked with a raised eyebrow.

The ménage à trois the women had unwittingly put on for their party of three had Remy hard as a rock after his earlier activities. It wasn't until one of the women focused her attention on Etienne that Remy had retreated back to his room.

Etienne's confused look was priceless. "Non. Why would I?"

"Cho! Co! Don't tell me y' didn't take advantage of de trois blondes while y' were whippin' off de speak?" He asked, his face split into a huge grin with the double entendre.

Nearly dying from suppressing the urge to laugh outright, Remy totally lost it when his cousin's face turned an obscene shade of burgundy. Etienne's embarrassment surrounding the trio of hot blondes reached a new level of utter mortification. Remy clutched his aching sides as he continued to guffaw, suddenly choking on spittle as he deeply inhaled a much needed breath. The laughing fit turned into coughing and he nearly fell off the couch. Nevertheless, he couldn't stop howling between hacks. Slowly, the gleeful cackles turned into little chuckles, but the knowing smirk never left Remy's face.

Once Etienne was sure his cousin was in a state to listen, he adamantly defended himself. His face was still a flushed red as he said, "Non. I played it cool, just like we talked 'bout. After I acquired de speak, I got all nervous and declined de membership invite before rushin' out."

He left out that he didn't have to fake the nerves. The enormity of the whip off combined with the attention of multiple women almost left him experiencing a different sort of blow up.

"Besides," Etienne continued, "Stuff like that don't compare t' de real thing."

Too late he realized what he'd said. He could feel his cheeks burn again when Remy's eagle eyes zeroed in and read his tells.

Remy was one of the best body language readers in the guild. He'd initially learned from Jean-Luc, who might as well be a human lie detector, but his skill was further enhanced once his mutation manifested. Gaining a hypnotic charm, he could use his voice to compel most people into believing anything he said or doing whatever he suggested. With it came the ability to read just an infinitesimal amount of his subject's emotions so he could tweak the influencing factor. By no means was he an empath by mutant standards, but it was enough to make it almost impossible to sneak anything past him.

Narrowing his eyes, he shrewdly said, "Y' got une fille, don't y'."

It was an observation, not a question. Under Remy's sharp glare, Etienne stumbled trying to come up with a believable misdirection.

"N-n-non," He stuttered, inwardly cursing the speech impediment he'd worked so hard to lose. "I j-j-just know that it'd be b-b-better wit' someone who c-c-cares instead of someone who's p-p-paid."

It was Remy's turn to call him out. "Connerie! Y' wouldn't be blushin' like that if y' didn't. How long y' been holdin' out on us? Who is she? Someone from de guild?"

The rapid fire questions left Etienne's head spinning and the blush deepening. His cousin was worse than a high school girl with the juiciest gossip.

"N-n-non. There's n-n-no one." He tried to lie, but Remy wasn't about to let it go.

"C'mon, homme. Y' ain't foolin' me and de rest of de famille only gon' give y' worse." The older cousin prodded.

"Serieusement," The gallant effort Etienne put into calming his embarrassment and flushing face was commendable, but pointless. Still he gave it a last attempt, a little bit of melancholy showing in his eyes as he said, "It's not like that. I don't have une fille."

Catching the sadness suddenly radiating from Etienne, Remy cut out his teasing. Even though he dialed it back, he didn't completely relent on the topic.

"Let me guess, she's not yo's yet. C'est très bien." He infused his confident response with the happiness he felt over Etienne finally getting the life he deserved. "I'll teach y' a couple moves, give y' a couple phrases and she'll be yo's in no time."

But Etienne's depression only grew. "I don't think that's gon' work."

"Bien sûr que ça va. Have some faith in yo'self, if not in me, cousin." Remy punctuated his pep talk with a light punch to Etienne's shoulder. "Now, c'mon. What's she like? Help me get a feel for her so we can win her heart."

The younger man nearly swallowed his tongue at his cousin's request. When he started violently coughing, Remy slapped him on the back until Etienne felt the air return to his raw lungs. He wasn't sure whether to talk about the woman he'd fallen in love with or not. In the end, it was the memory of her smiling face that pushed him to want to share his feelings.

"She's so very sweet and funny. Honest." He tentatively started, his eyes taking on a far off, glassy sheen. "She really loves family. I don't think she's thought a lot 'bout it, but I think she'd like t' start her own. Oh, andshe's feisty."

"Bon! Y' need some spice in yo' life." Remy went back to good natured teasing, completely missing what his cousin had been saying. "Sounds t' me like y' been thinkin' 'bout settlin' down too, neh?"

The mooneyed expression on Etienne's face fell. "I can think 'bout it all I want, mais it ain't gon' make a difference."

Misattributing his cousin's statement with a simply lack of self-confidence around women, Remy quickly answered, "Foi, cousin. Do what I tell y' and y'll be joinin' de rest of us vieux, homme mariés."

Etienne just rolled his eyes at his cousin's bad joke. As if there was an abundance of married men in the house other than Remy and Henri. "D'accord. Peu importe."

With the mood suddenly lifted, Remy roughly patted Etienne's back a couple times before standing and stretching. With a wickedly teasing smirk, he said, "C'mon. Let's get home t' our douceurs."

(X)-(X)-(X)

It was an hour after midnight when Remy and Etienne finally made it back to the Thieves' compound. Even though they had taken the guild's private jet, the flight from Philadelphia had been delayed due to heavy sleet. Right before takeoff, Remy called Mercy asking for a favor. If all went as he planned, Rogue would be packed and ready to leave as soon as he debriefed with Jean-Luc.

"Where y' goin', Remy?" Etienne questioned when his cousin started up the stairs instead of rounding them to the lower entrance.

Shooing the younger man, Remy said, "Go ahead and get started wit' père. I'll meet y' in a few. Just gon' go check on Rogue."

"Um, I don't think Noncle Jean-Luc will like that…" Etienne hesitated, not used to deviating from the post-contract routine, but Remy just waved him off again as he continued climbing.

Stepping into their suite, Remy silently moved through the darkened sitting room and assumed Rogue must have fallen asleep waiting for him.

"Chérie?" He quietly called, but was surprised to find their bedroom cold, dark, and empty. In a louder voice, he called, "Rogue?" but received no response.

Remy quickly backtracked through the suite and headed toward Mercy and Henri's rooms, thinking she might be with their sister-in-law. When a couple light raps didn't yield a response, he banged a little louder.

A muffled "Fils de pute!" was heard before Henri violently opened the door. "What do y' want at this hour, frérot?"

"Is Rogue in there?" Remy asked, trying to peer around his grumpy brother's shoulder to see their couch.

"Non," Henri's brow crinkled in confusion. "Why would she be?"

"She's not in my room." His younger brother answered.

Rolling his eyes, Henri said, "Check de common rooms. Or down in père's, I mean, yo' office."

The last comment had Henri wincing. Jean-Luc had been patriarch for so long that it was just ingrained to call the office his. It was going to take some time to get used to thinking of it as Remy's. More concerned with finding Rogue, the younger brother just waved off the slipup.

"Is that Remy?" Mercy called from the bedroom.

Not taking his eyes off his brother, Henri answered over his shoulder, "Ouais. He's lookin' fo' his femme."

"Tell him he owes me big time! Makin' me touch his unmentionables like that." She shouted back.

"Why were y' touchin' Remy's unmentionables?" He asked, his eyebrows quirking up. If they rose any higher, they'd fall off his forehead.

Taking the opportunity to sneak away, Remy heard Mercy answer, "Never y' mind that. Just tell him I expect repayment tenfold."

He snuck around the corner before Henri could relay the message. Taking his brother's advice, Remy quickly moved through the usual places but came up with nothing. A rising sense of uneasiness tightened his chest as he made his way downstairs and the only other person who might know where Rogue was. If his father didn't know… well, he'd decided not to think about that until it was necessary.

"Où est-elle? Where's Rogue?" Remy asked as he hurried into the patriarch's office.

"Shhh!" Jean-Luc hissed as his son quickly crossed the room. "She fell asleep on de sofa."

The instant relief Remy felt from hearing Rogue's location was short lived. His earlier anxiety notched back up when he saw her wrapped in the fur throw, her head resting on a pillow on top of Jean-Luc's thigh. While the small, stiff leather cushion made a good barrier between them, his wife had basically fallen asleep in his father's lap. The situation was only made worse when Remy saw the clear view of her perfect cleavage, framed by the low v-neck of her Henley. He could only imagine the display from his father's viewpoint.

Remy's dark, brooding glare tipped off Jean-Luc that his son had taken the situation the wrong way. Quietly, he explained, "She kept noddin' off sittin' up. I tried t' get her t' go upstairs, but she's as stubborn as y' are. One minute she was readin' a report and de next she's slumped over on t' my shoulder." As an afterthought, he added, "Y' owe me a new silk shirt. Yo' femme drools."

Sure enough, a large circular spot marred the upper arm of Jean-Luc's shirt and corroborated at least part of his version of events. Remy appreciated his father taking care of Rogue, but their positions bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

"Y' could've switched seats." Remy pointed out.

"I tried t' wake her, but she's out cold." Jean-Luc shook his head. "Figured sleepin' like this was better than gettin' a kink in her neck."

Remy wasn't satisfied with the answer. A twinge of jealousy infused his voice as he pushed the issue, "That don't explain why y' deux are cuddled up."

His father gave him a withering stare as if to say, 'Please, why would I seduce yo' femme?' Instead, he responded, "Shehasn't strayed too far from Henri, Mercy, Emil, or me since y' been gone. She's afraid."

"De qoui?" Remy scoffed, disbelieving the strong woman could possibly be scared of anything.

She, who had handed him his ass in the training room all those months ago. She, who had stayed cool under pressure during the Andorra contract after it went south. She, who had been forced to learn control of her mutation because the father who had adopted her and was supposed to care for her bound her to her aunt's dead body for two days. Remy didn't believe anything could frighten Rogue.

Jean-Luc indicated the club chair closest to his end of the sofa and waited for his son to take a seat before continuing in a soft voice, "Rogue told me 'bout de night of de Cotillion. How Marius and Julien attacked her."

Remy's brows pinched together. He knew from the bruises that they'd had a serious physical hold on her that night, but he wondered if there was a longstanding emotional grip as well. One that hadn't previously occurred to him. How they must have terrorized her when she was younger. As he turned the possibilities over in his mind, he suddenly wondered if Belle may have contributed to Rogue's traumatic upbringing.

A hollow, bottomed-out feeling dragged in Remy's gut as his paradigm shifted on its axis.

Their whole lives, he and Rogue had lived less than fifteen miles away from each other. While he was growing up surrounded by a loving adoptive family, she was locked in a windowless concrete cell that barely passed as living quarters. Alone after she turned twelve, Rogue was faced with the jealousy, loathing, and pettiness of a household that never really wanted her in the first place.

A red flag rose in the back of his mind, floating out of the miasma of his clouded thoughts. As he tried to get a better grasp on it, the elusive warning darted away and prevented him from connecting the dots. It was like the harder he tried to look at it straight on, the more ethereal it became. But he knew there was something important there. Something about keeping Rogue when it was clear from their actions that they could care less about her.

His focus was drawn back to his wife as a sleepy sigh escaped her full lips. Lifting her hand to assume a more comfortable position, she rested it by her face. If it wasn't for the cushion between them, her palm would be grasping Jean-Luc's thigh.

Remy's mood grew more disturbed as he re-evaluated how close the pair had gotten while he was gone, more so than her just being afraid. Thinking back on his father's revelation that Rogue had shared her secret, he petulantly drawled, "So what? She told y' that her père et frère are connards. That's not anythin' we didn't already know."

Based on Rogue's reluctance to tell him when he initially discovered the bruises, Remy had thought it was a secret that she trusted only him to keep. Apparently, that safeguard had grown to include Jean-Luc as well. His earlier chagrin grew, affecting his expression.

Accurately reading his son's tells, Jean-Luc said, "Don't get yo' panties in a twist, garçon. She only brought it up because she was worried 'bout y'."

He purposefully left out Rogue was also worried about Etienne. That bit of information wouldn't be helpful at the moment. As expected, the tension in Remy's shoulders loosened and the tightness around his eyes eased.

"Elle était?" The surprise was clear in his voice, momentarily wiping away his insolent attitude.

"Mmm." Jean-Luc confirmed before adding the reason why Rogue was so afraid. "De assassins want y' dead."

"What's new." The insolent attitude returned as Remy flippantly answered and rolled his eyes. Throughout the years, the assassins' reason for wanting him dead had changed but their intent was always the same.

"What's new is that y' and Rogue are guildmasters now." Jean-Luc pointed out. "Guildmasters who have targets on their backs."

Irritation bled through Remy's voice. "And we always will have targets on our backs. Just like y' did and just like every other guildmaster before us did. Don't mean either of us are gon' stop livin' our lives just 'cause someone somewhere wants us dead."

Unwilling to be pushed on the issue, his father said, "I'm sorry, but y' can't leave de compound. Not 'til things wit' de Unified Guild settle out."

"Does that include what we discussed before I left?" He tipped his head in Rogue's direction, indicating the time off he'd negotiated to celebrate her birthday.

Jean-Luc only nodded in confirmation, his eyes hard and his mouth set in a firm line.

Anticipating his father's response, Remy's temper flared as he whisper shouted, "C'est de la merde! Y' didn't want us t' go in de first place et this is just an excuse t' stop us now."

"De threat was always a possibility before, though not likely." His father held up his hand but refused to bend. "Now Rogue all but confirmed they have somethin' planned."

"Non! We're goin' and that's final." Remy wasn't going to live his life cowering from some potential plot that might not ever be initiated much less pulled off. Before his father could further object, he added, "And don't even think 'bout givin' me orders. Y' can't. Not anymore. Yo' not guildmaster."

Jean-Luc's ire rose, the seemingly infinite patience finally worn thin. His face turned red and the entreating hand turned into a pointed finger as he glared at his son and said, "Non, butI am still yo' père andI can lock y' up in yo' room."

Jumping out of the chair, Remy got in his father's face as he said, "Do it and I'll have y' charged wit' treason."

At an impasse, the two men stared at each other waiting to see who would cave first. It wasn't until Rogue sighed again that their posturing shattered. Though she didn't wake up, she did draw their focus to her. Jean-Luc gently slid out from under the cushion that was propping up her head. The smooth movement didn't disturb her as he rose to his full height, two inches taller than Remy.

"As I said, yo' guildmasters now. It's time y' start makin' sacrifices fo' de good of de Unified Guild." Jean-Luc matched Remy's dark stare.

"Don't talk t' me 'bout sacrifices fo' de good of de guild." Remy countered, finally having enough of the same old lecture. "Y' have no idea de sacrifices I just made in Atlantic City t' save de guild's reputation. All over an insignificant whip off that a competent thief would have secured in a couple hours."

Twisting his son's words, Jean-Luc answered, "Garçon, y' haven't even begun t' suffer fo' this guild. Come talk t' me when de thing y' treasure most is ripped away from y'."

Jean-Luc forced his gaze to remain on Remy instead of darting down to the woman on the couch. Whether his son wanted to admit it or not, he could already see the hold she had on him. It was no different than his beloved Amélie.

"Remy?" Rogue's sleepy voice effectively ended their argument, preventing the younger man from dwelling on his father's raw admission and the older man from wallowing in his still bleeding anguish.

"Ouais, chère. I'm right here." Remy said, but didn't take his eyes off his father. As he passed the older man, he let his shoulder hit Jean-Luc's and added, "This ain't over."

His father simply nodded before stepping toward the door. "I'll leave y' deux to it and expect y' t' make wise choices then."

"Mais bien sûr. De first of which is strippin' Toussaint of his rank." Remy threw over his shoulder as he crouched down in front of Rogue.

Jean-Luc's eyes widened as he said, "There hasn't been an Invalidation in decades!"

"Exactement. Welcome t' de new Unified Guild." His son ended the conversation when he turned his attention to his wife.

"Yo' right. This ain't over." Jean-Luc recognized the dismissal and stormed out of the office.

Focusing on Rogue, Remy gently stroked the strands of white side swept bangs out of her face. "Chérie?"

Rogue's eyes reluctantly fluttered half open as she sleepily asked, "Is everythin' alright?"

"Ouais, chère." Remy's fingertips brushed across her forehead in soothing lines. "Y' think y' can get up? I got a surprise fo' y'."

"Mmm," Her eyes drooped again, not enjoying the prospect of moving. She'd rather roll right over, burrow into the warm covers, and fall asleep again. "Show me tomorrow?"

"C'mon, petite. It can't wait 'til t'morrow." Remy coaxed as he rubbed her shoulder.

"M'kay." Rogue agreed, but instead half turned onto her back as sleep claimed her once more.

Leaning down, he placed a measured kiss on her forehead. With a deep inhale, he paused long enough to breath in the clean scent of her silky hair. Remy rocked back, his eyes roaming over her porcelain face as he thought, 'Mon Dieu!' and realized how much he'd missed her.

If this moment had been fresh in his mind right before walking into the club earlier that night, he wouldn't have let any of those women touch him. He would have figured out something, anything, other than playing along. He should have any way. Instead, he offered himself as conciliation for the guild's reputation and jeopardized any trust Rogue may have had in him.

In that moment, he decided he'd never tell her about the club. He'd find Etienne and convince him not to say anything either. Confessing his actions would only bring her unnecessary heartache. Heartache that was within his control to protect her from.

Remy continued running his fingers through her hair. After a few gentle strokes, he slid his arms under Rogue's body and lifted her up. As her head lolled onto his shoulder, he kissed her temple and walked out of the patriarch's office with his wife wrapped tightly in his arms.

He was still debating whether to take her to bed or continue with the plan to whisk her away. There was no question about defying Jean-Luc's 'suggestion', but there was a concern for what was best for Rogue. It was clear she needed deep, restful sleep. She hadn't been like this before he left, so he could only conclude that she was more at ease when he was home with her. The idea made his heart swell and his pulse race with the thought that she may have come to lo- like him as much as he cared for her.

His internal debate ended when he ran into Mercy at the base of the stairs. Two small, tightly packed duffels sat on the floor by her feet.

"I don't know what y' did t' piss him off, but père just stormed down de corridor. He threw de Ming vase against de wall." Mercy said, crossing her arms tightly over her robe. "We now have ten million pieces worth a dollar instead of one piece worth ten million."

Nudging the bag with her slipper, she added, "Whatever y' planned, y' better get out of here now or else he ain't gon' let y' go later."

Closing the distance between them, Remy maneuvered so he could kiss his sister-in-law's cheek while holding his still sleeping wife. "Merci, Mercy."

It was an old joke between them, one she really, really hated but had learned to tolerate a long time ago. Rolling her eyes and swatting his shoulder, she answered with a small smile, "Go on, y' scoundrel. Get!"

Remy kissed her cheek again before heading into the formal sitting room. Easing Rogue onto the settee, he caressed her face with one hand while the other gently shook her shoulder.

"Rogue, chère, I need y' t' wake up." He spoke in a louder voice than he had used earlier downstairs.

She groaned, before trying to swat his hands away. Catching her wrist, he tightly gripped it and gave it a little shake. Her limp hand flailed back and forth with the movement, but he at least saw her eyes squeeze tighter.

"I can't carry y' and both our bags at de same time." Remy cajoled, but she only tried to twist away and bury her nose in the cushions.

Sighing, he decided to test how lucid she was. "Lapin's gone through all yo' drawers and has yo' panties hangin' from de banister. All de other thieves are fingerin' 'em right now."

The dirty trick had the desired effect as she sat up, straight as a board, and said, "Ah'll kill him!"

With a smirk, Remy said, "Serieusement, petite. Do y' really think I'd let anyone but me finger yo' delicates."

"Oh, get offa me, ya dirty boy." Rogue said as she pushed him off balance enough to land hard on his rear. She slid off the sofa and started to storm out of the room. "Why'd ya wake me up? And with that of all things! At least Sleepin' Beauty got a kiss."

Gracefully jumping to his feet, Remy quickly caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her trim waist. He spun her to face him before planting his lips firmly on hers.

Instinctively, Rogue threw her hands out to shove him away but as his mouth expertly molded over hers, she relaxed her defensive position. Little contented moans vibrated through her chest when Remy deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease the seam of her lips. Rogue slid her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, her fingers tangling with the shaggy ends of his long hair.

It was when she flicked her tongue out to meet his and pressed her body closer that he finally pulled away. With his eyes still closed, Remy pressed his forehead against hers and panted out, "Hold that thought, petite. I promise t' pick up where we're leavin' off, but we got t' leave now."

"Why?" Rogue pulled away, disappointed that he'd put a stop to their reunion.

Remy smirked when he recognized the pleading tone in her voice. She missed him too. She wanted him too.

Finally opening his eyes, he winked at her before saying, "I owe y' a birthday present. Et fille, it's way better than a couple of trinkets."

(X)

rendezvous – (Canting noun) a thieves' place of meeting

Rien. – Nothing.

vaut-rien – (Cajun) good-for-nothing.

Connerie! – Bullshit!

Plus du conneries! More bullshit!

Je m'excuse. – I apologize.

touts – (Canting noun/variation of the verb) to look out for a fellow thief's motions while he is effecting a private purpose or proceeding

Ta gueule! – Shut up!

Sérieusement, - Seriously,

C'est très bien. – That's fine.

Bien sûr que ça va. – Sure it will.

Foi, cousin. – Faith, cousin.

vieux, homme mariés – old, married men

D'accord. Peu importe. – Okay. Whatever.

douceurs – (Cajun) sweet/sweetness pet name

Où est-elle? – Where is she?

De qoui? - Of what?

Elle était? – She was?