Disclaimer: If you think I own them, you're more delusional than I am.
A/N: Review; it's a magical word. And frankly, I'm not too proud to beg. Pleassseee!
The winter had been dry, and today there was a patch of sun. Silver sat out in the garden, basking in the little heat it provided.
She looked out into the fields and frowned. There she was again. She hadn't gotten to know Rogue very well in the few weeks she'd been here; Rogue had been in and out of the house, more out than in, her and Kurt swinging between ignoring each other and all out war.
She'd got to know the basics of the story, and had nothing but sympathy for the young couple. Much of what she'd heard came from Violet, now Sword was actually allowing her to stand up and walk around; the healer was a sweet, sweet, woman, but a terrible gossip.
She brushed her hand across the top of the long grass that seemed to be engulfing the garden. She was looking forward to spring; Sword had apparently long ago staked out this area as his territory, but Violet made him promise that Silver would at least be able to help. Funny, she'd thought that Violet would be the gardener, she seemed the homey type. Then again, she couldn't cook, either; Brightling and Remy did most of the 'kitchen work' - although Kurt was rumored to make fantastic pancakes, she hadn't had the chance to taste them yet.
Hell, she'd hardly had the chance to talk to Kurt; according to Violet, since the big fight, no-one had gotten much conversation out of him but Rogue – although the screaming matches they conducted with some regularity weren't really conversation.
"What are y' t'inking about?"
She decided on the diplomatic answer to that question. "I wish Spring would come."
"If Spring will not come here, Chere, den we must go t' it."
"What nonsense are you talking now, Cajun?"
He led her round the back of the old farm-house; curious, she allowed herself to be dragged round the corner. There, sitting in an otherwise barren patch of ground, a little clump of flowers grew, a few daisies and some buttercups, golden in the sunlight. A smile lit up her face, and she knelt to take a closer look.
"Beautiful." she breathed.
"Indeed." replied Remy, but he wasn't looking at the flowers. Before she knew what was happening, he placed a soft kiss on her lips.
Remy thought he could die now and be a happy man. So engrossed was he in the feel of her lips, he completely missed the sound of thunder, rolling overhead, and the sudden darkening of the sky with rainclouds.
All too quickly, the kiss was over as she pushed him away.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Uh, stealing kisses?"
From the look on her face, his famous Cajun Charm wasn't helping him now.
"I can't believe you tried to pull such a cheap trick on me!"
Then he saw her eyes.
"Chere…"
"I thought we were friends, Gambit. I thought you respected me, that I could trust you!"
"Chere, y' eyes…"
You wouldn't last long on the streets of Nawlins without knowing when it was time to run. Remy ran.
And then the rain started.
Violet peeked out the bedroom curtains, and grinned.
"What is it?" asked Sword
"Remy just helped Silver find out what her powers are." she replied, eyes twinkling.
He got up off the bed, wrapping his arms around her as he took a look.
Even through the rain, the figure of Remy was quite visible, chased by the swooping, darting, form of Silver.
"Think we should help him?" asked Violet.
"Nah. He probably did something to deserve it. She won't hurt him – much."
"You're taking the risk of having to listen to him whining about his bruises for the next week."
Sword shrugged, lifting her up easily and placing her back on the bed. "I'll deal."
And from up in the attic, a pair of golden eyes watched the lone figure of Rogue as she continued her exercises, ignoring the rain. If anyone had been watching from the outside, they would have seen fingertips touch the rain-streaked window, briefly, longingly. If they'd had very good hearing, they might have heard, through the howling wind, something muttered in German – perhaps a prayer, or a curse. They might have also heard the sound of tears falling in time with the rain, the sound of a very private grief held back for far too long.
Darkling was not watching; but he did have very good hearing.
~What is it?~ asked Brightling, in the way she only did when they were alone.
He hated to lie to her, block his thoughts from her; but whatever else people might think about him, he did have some morals.
~Nothing~
Wolverine hadn't been spending much time at the mansion – he'd come back every couple of days, covered in dirt and sweat and quite often blood, his own or someone else's, Jean could never guess. He'd stomp in, demand to know if they'd found anything – to which question the answer so far had been no – growl, destroy something, and leave again.
Frankly, she was kind of getting sick of it. Actually, she was getting sick of the whole thing. A group of mutants powerful enough to defeat the Brotherhood couldn't have come out of thin air, and then disappeared again. Yet no-one seemed to know who they were.
Her best friend did not just disappear on her without leaving a trace. Jean growled in a passable imitation of Logan, glaring at the pile of 'Jane Doe' hospital records Kitty had pulled up for her. She'd been searching through the damn things for hours; no luck yet.
Suddenly, something clicked. When the ambulance crew had roused her, there had been another woman. She'd rushed over to see if it was 'Ro; instead it had been a small blonde woman, whose husband had practically shoved her aside to get to her. At the time she'd thought – innocent bystander. But now…
Kitty looked up as she entered the computer labs.
"There's an unusual rainstorm in central Pennsylvania. Blew up out of nowhere. Covers a pretty big area though."
Jean nodded. "That's a good start, at least. I've got another lead. There was another woman attacked by Sabretooth – she was taken to hospital shortly after 'Ro was kidnapped. Can you find her?"
A few taps. "Nearest hospital to the mall is Saint Lukes, right? Give me a few minutes, I'll see what I can find."
Just then, the now familiar roar of the bike could be heard. She met Scott on the way to the door.
"Another visit from the charming Logan?"
"At least this time we might have something to tell him."
"Really?"
"Kitty's working on it."
"Kitty's working on what?" Logan asked, coming in through the door.
Frankly, he looked like death warmed over. Even a healing factor obviously couldn't compensate for little food and next to no sleep.
"I'll tell you if you promise to eat something – sitting down, for once."
"Yes, Mom." he grumbled, but followed her into the kitchen anyway.
"A storm just turned up out of nowhere in Pennsylvania. Got any theories as to why that might have happened?"
"Save me the sarcasm, Red. Where is she, and how long before we find out."
Jean shrugged. "The storm just gives us a general area. I've also got Kitty working on finding a woman who was attacked by Sabretooth that day, taken to hospital."
Logan snorted. "Sabretooth's an area-effect weapon, Jeannie. The girls probably just some ditz who got in the way."
Kitty entered the room – through the back wall – carrying yet another pile of papers.
"Thirty-two urgent cases admitted to St Lukes for the two hours after you were attacked. You know what you're looking for?"
"Small blonde woman, picked up from the mall, address in PA, if we've any luck."
She was the fifth one down in Scott's pile.
"Violet Elizabeth Sword" he read out. "Admitted with a variety of injuries – cuts, bruises, head wound – address in Pennsylvania."
He flipped a page, and frowned. "Oh."
"What?" asked Jean
"I think we have a motive." He handed the report to her.
She read it out: "Three months pregnant; miscarried, probably due to blow to lower abdomen."
The address was rural; nowhere she recognized.
"Kitty, can you find out where this address is?"
Wolverine had that look in his eyes, she realized; the one he got before he was about to destroy something or someone.
"Logan?"
A grunt was her reply.
"I would like a promise that you won't kill anyone."
"I'm not promising anything, Red. Anyone who tries ta keep me from 'Ro is dead."
She swooped into the sky, reveling in the chase, feeling the powers of nature at her command. She felt whole. Her target dodged in front of her, but not quickly enough. He ended up flat on his back in the mud, her hands on his wrists. Funny, he didn't seem inclined to try and escape.
He grinned up at her and her anger fled. "Next time," she warned him. "ask first."
"May Remy kiss y', Chere?"
"No."
He pouted, playing the game.
"But I'm going to kiss you."
The thunder stopped, but the gentle rain continued all night.
Darkling looked down at his sister, her head leaning against his shoulder as she read one of her truly crappy romance novels.
~And what are you smiling about, sister?~
~Nothing. You're not the only one who keeps secrets~