AN:  Yeah, yeah.  Longer chapters, I get it.  I have a tendency to break up scenes per chapter, or things that happen simultaneously.  It's just the way I write.  If Remy's accent is thoroughly screwed up, forgive me, please, and tell me how to write the damn thing.  Comments to reviewers at end.

"Now dis be t' Stormy I know!"  Without waiting for a response, Remy stepped inside the meticulously cared for greenhouse.  Much like Ororo's voice, the scents of the plants inside comforted him, providing one of the few constants in the thief's life.

"Do not call me by that ridiculous name!  And are you smoking?  Stamp out that toxin case before you take one step further!"

Remy just had to laugh.  Without even looking up, Storm had effectively rebuked him and invited him in within the same sentence.  "Non, 'Roro.  Remy jus' came from de bar, smell like smoke from 'dere."  A sudden sprinkle of water on his head made Remy yelp, and look up to see a small rain cloud hovering over him, washing him off.  "What's dat fo'?"

"You smell, Remy.  Someone had to do something before my plants choked."  Rounding the corner, she smiled at the now "drowned-rat" look of the Cajun before recalling her cloud. 

"Funny, 'Roro."

"I do believe it was.  Now, may I ask what brought you out here so late," looking at her watch, she amended her statement, "early in the morning?" 

As Storm turned to continue fertilizing her flowers, Remy leaned against the nearest planter, arms folded across his chest.  "Remy been worried 'bout you, Stormy.  You been so down lately, Remy couldn' help but be worried."

Smiling, Ororo walked over and briefly laid her hand on Remy's crossed arms before responding with a soothing tone.  "I am fine, Remy.  That girl's death must have affected me more than I had previously realized.  It is nothing more than another hurdle to cross, one I will do eventually."  A sad look entered and escaped her eyes before she hastily turned back to her prize lilies. 

In one fluid motion, Remy uncrossed his arms, pushed away from the planter, and placed his hands on Ororo's shoulders.  "You not foolin' Remy with dat act, 'Roro.  I know better.  'Dat girl's got you shook up, and you know it."  Remy could sense a protest coming on, so he continued.  "I'm hurt that my Stormy didn' tell me b'fore dat somet'ing was wrong."

A sigh.  "Remy, this was something I did not feel like broadcasting to the mansion.  'Hello!  I am not quite right!  Accept me as your leader anyway!'" 

"I ain't t' mansion, "Roro.  I'm your padnat."

"No matter.  I do not need to sit around and wallow in my own self-doubt.  I must get through this on my own."

Hopping up on the ledge, placed one leg on Ororo's left, the other on her right, trapping her from leaving.  "An' how long you been tryin' t' get t'rough dis on your own?  Since t' mission?  'Roro, dat was four months ago."

Effectively trapped, Storm conceded and hopped up on the ledge facing Remy.  "Some things take longer than others.  I have been through worse things, Remy.  As have you.  We both know that it will eventually pass."

"Non.  It won'."

Irritated, Storm bit out a reply.  "And why not?"

"'Cause you won' let it." 

"And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

Remy withdrew his legs from around Ororo, and used the kinetic energy from the retraction to launch himself off the ledge.  He leaped up next to Storm, wrapped one arm around her head, and drew it to his shoulder.  "'Cause you too wrapped up in bein' de leader."

"Remy, I am a leader.  I cannot simply abandon that post and go off to do Goddess knows what."

"But why you makin' your leadership your definin' characteristic?"

"What?  I am much more than a leader to this team, Remy."

"Name one thin' you are t' dis team dat has no'tin t' do wit' bein' a leader."

Hesitant, Ororo lifted her head up and searched Remy's red on black eyes for a purpose behind his line of questioning.  Finding no ulterior motives, she cocked her head a bit and answered, "I am a friend."

"Really?  And why is it, then, dat they not be friends to you?"

"What are you driving at, Gambit?"

"It not take a telepath t' see dat you're not right, Stormy.  And dey continued to pour on the requirements for you."

"And yet, you did nothing, either.  Stop being sanctimonious."

"Gambit know how much you like t' work t'ings out.  And he know dat you been getting training from de Wolverine.  I jus' realized that not be de help you need."

"So, you consider yourself my friend, while the others are not?"

"Oui.  And as your frien', I'm asking you to step down." 

Incensed, Ororo shoved herself off the ledge.  "Are you implying that I am unfit for leadership?"  Whirling around, she pointed her finger in Remy's lean chest, pressing her weight behind it.  "What sort of matter is this, Gambit?"

Reaching up, Remy gently removed Storm's finger, the thunder outside making him wary.  "Non, 'Roro.  I'm saying 'dat you're too concerned wit' everyon' else, and not enough wit' yourse'f.  And it obvious to Remy that you're not gonna fix yourse'f without taking yourse'f away from de pressure."

"And leave the entire duty to Scott?  I hardly find that fair, Remy."

"Fo'get fair, Scott's done that t' you enough.  How many times he left you in charge, withou' little more than a 'bye!'  You due, padnat, you due for your turn.  Why is it dat everyone in this house gets a chance, but you?  Why you not allowin' yourself?"  Easing himself down, Remy landed soundlessly on the soft earth below, and placed a small kiss in Storm's hair. "What are you afraid of?"  As he left, he called over his shoulder, "t'ink about it, Stormy."

And Storm was too shocked to reprimand him for the name.

Perhaps he is right.  Perhaps the best action is to take care of myself first.  And that would be a first.  It's much more comfortable to take care of others; taking care of their needs allows me to ignore my own gnawing pains.  But, if I do not, then how long will it be before I fall again?  I do not trust myself on another mission, I am not ready.  How do I fix this?  Anger, venting, meditation, they have all failed. And burying myself further helps no one.  I know what I must do, but I am not sure I can do it.  

Tapping his foot impatiently, Logan waited in the Danger Room for Storm to show for their daily sessions.  He hoped yesterday's talk had done her some good, however, when he happened to catch her eye later that night, Ororo's eyes were lost in another world.  Sighing, he exited the Danger Room to return to his room.  If she didn't want to practice, he had some errands to run.  On his way down to the front door, he overheard Gambit pleading with Storm over something.

"But, Gambit don' t'ink…"

"This is my decision.  I was forced into it."

"Forced?"

"Yes.  After considering what you said, and what others have said, this is the only possible route I can see."

"Remy's glad you doin' this, chere, but…"

"Please, just accept it, and keep my confidence.  I do not want the whole team trailing me to my destination.  Only you and Jean know where I shall be, and have the means to contact me in case of emergency."

"What about th' others?  Don't they get a chance?"

"And have Scott calling me every time one of our enemies sneezes too hard?"

"What about th' Wolverine?  He would wanna know, Gambit's sure."

"Yes, and I plan on telling him, when I work up the confidence.  Pause.  Or when I can find a good piece of paper to write it on and throw at him on my way out." 

Logan heard Remy laugh, and decided to continue on.  Steps slowed, he pondered over where Storm would take off to that she would so desire to keep quiet.  After all, the names of countries in Africa changed so fast that she could tell them a specific country, and by the next week, that information would be outdated.  Where else would she head off to, though?

"Logan?  May I speak to you for a moment?"

AN2:  Look!  I can write a longer chapter!  Huzzah!  And now, since your constant prodding is compelling me to write this instead of computer code, I'd better respond to you all.

Rhapsody:  Umm…I just save it as an .htm document.  Italics just carry over from Frontpage or Word.  And the lettering?  I write everything in 10 pt Arial.  And, as you can tell, it doesn't always bloody work.  Grrr.  Thanks for your encouragement.

Nina:  I'm glad you're enjoying this; my plan is to swing the pendulum in the other direction now, ignoring her brain, and see where that leads her. ;)

Lori, Icequeen, and Stormgirl302: Thanks. :)

SLH:  Look!  I did Remy!  And Pete, did I screw up his accent!

Stormfreak:  She'll get all those…eventually.  And I'm not referring to the G-rated version. ;)