Chapter 2: Rendezvous With Remy

             When Rogue's eyes opened, the room was an abyss of darkness, except for a tiny bit of moonlight that showed through the blinds.  She yawned and raised her head from her pillow, wondering how late it was.  She hadn't even thought to bring her travel alarm clock. 

             She pulled herself up and stretched, and something in the corner caught her eye, she gasped and jumped, two red glowing orbs in the blackness of the corner.  She threw herself back up against the wall.

             "Relax, it's only me," it was Remy's voice, he sounded ever so slightly amused, the sound of him shuffling in the darkness became apparent, then the light flicked on, he was sitting on the top of a wooden stool, his feet up on the bed side cabinet, back against the wall.

             "Jesus, you fucking scared the shit out of me," Rogue hissed, she kicked one of her shoes at him.

             Remy laughed a little, "didn't mean to," he smirked, "I was bored and just thought I'd wait out in here until you got up."

             Rogue sighed, "what time is it?"

             "Eleven."

             "At night?" Rogue blinked.

             "Duh," Remy smirked, "doesn't exactly look like it be morning out there, now does it?"

             Rogue blushed and pursed her lips for a moment, "I guess not."

             "So…wanna take a lil' rendezvous together?"

             Rogue yawned a little, "do I have to?"

             "If you wanna hear what I have to say," Remy remarked.

             Rogue sat down on the floor and began to pull on her shoes, "why can't you just tell me in here?"

             "Even the walls got ears," Remy stood up, he picked up his long leather trenchcoat, which Rogue had just noticed had been on the floor folded neatly.  She watched him pull it on, black leather complimented him, gave him a more dark and mysterious look. 

Rogue got up, "we can take the window," she walked over to the window and pulled the blinds up, then flung the window open.

             "Never were one for takin' the long way, were you?" Remy grinned, he watched her climb out of the window and take to the sky, he climbed out slowly onto the ledge, and Rogue grabbed a hold of him under the shoulders, flying them both to the beach.

             She headed towards the sound intent on a gentle landing, instead, accidentally losing her balance at the last moment and sending them both tumbling across the sand. 

             "Ooph!" Remy huffed as he landed roughly and rolled across the sand, finally stopping before hitting a large rock.  He watched Rogue tumble past a few feet.  "What is up with your landings?"

             "It's not so easy, okay?" Rogue pulled herself up, staggering a little, she frowned at the sand all over her, and began to dust it off.

             "How can it not be easy?" he asked.

             "It's hard to explain," Rogue explained, "It's not like Jean's telekinesis where she can pick herself up and put herself back down neatly."

             "Then what is it like," he dusted sand off of his front.

             "Its like…making myself as light as a feather and trying to control myself against the currents, its hard to explain," she sighed frustrated a little, "if I lose concentration too soon, I become heavier and I hurtle to the ground rather than soar towards it…god, why am I even trying to explain this?"

             Remy shrugged, "Beats the hell out of me…" he reached his hand out to her, "c'mon, walk with me."
             Rogue took his hand, and they walked together, "so…you gonna tell me why you think the robberies are an inside job?"

             Remy was silent for a moment, as if thinking of a way to explain it, "whoever is doing it seems to know how to beat being seen on any of the security cameras, without disturbing even the hidden motion detectors, and surpassing every security authorisation panel in the building.   Whoever it is knows their shit," Remy said, "I don't think anyone outside of the staff could possibly get through this kind of security…" he explained, "The only kind of person who should know—"

             "Is a staff member?" Rogue asked.

             "That's right?"

             Rogue nodded, "I guess you have a point, it COULD be an inside job."

             "But now I gotta find a way of settin' a trap to catch them in the act…"

             "Y'know, maybe we should have gone to find Pinocchio, see if he could tell us who the supplier was?" Rogue suggested.

             "Pinocchio can't be traced, the Professor checked.  As long as Pinocchio keeps usin' MutantX, his powers aren't being used, hence, Cerebro ain't gonna pick up his signal."

             "Damn," Rogue muttered.

             "Besides, he's just a dealer.  Dealers usually don't get their supplies directly from a main source," he admitted.

             "How do you know?" Rogue frowned a little.

             "Inside sources."
             "You don't take drugs do you…or deal them…?" Rogue said suspiciously.

             "No, but I've known people who do," Remy admitted.  "Dealers usually get their supplies from another source.  Main suppliers of drugs usually have several people working for them, sometimes patsies, people that aren't easy to trace back to the original source.  Sometimes a supplier will pass drugs on through 10 people before those drugs will get to a dealer," Remy explained. 

             "So you think Pinocchio would be a dead link?"

             "More or less."

             "But he knew about Muir Island…" Rogue pointed out.

             "Doesn't mean to say he knows who's runnin' the show," Remy pointed out, they stopped walking, and Remy leaned against a rock, "Whoever is doin' this is smarter than your average dealer, that's all I can say, they gotta be someone who has some degree of intelligence to be able to combine the chemicals stolen," he pointed out, "and it's gotta be someone who can easily access the stuff."

             "But the thing is, if it was a staff member, wouldn't they just take the stuff anyway?  Why go to the trouble of breaking in?" Rogue asked.

             Remy glanced over at the water, watching the waves rolling in violently against the rocks, "Because it would be too easy, wouldn't it?" he took his tobacco tin out of his pocket and took out a ready rolled cigarette, he pulled his lighter out, put the cigarette to his mouth, cupped the end and lit it. 

             "I don't understand," Rogue admitted, she sat on a nearby rock.

             "All of the chemicals in this building are measured and accounted for every day," Remy explained, "at the end of each day two research assistants take inventory of everything in the labs," he added.  "If a staff member were to just take it, it would be too easy to suss out who was doing it – just by who'd been workin' in the lab that day," he explained.  "However, gaining the knowledge of the centre in and out, and breaking in and taking the stuff makes it look like it's an outside job rather than an inside job."

             "Sounds like you have it sussed already," Rogue admitted.

             "I don't though," Remy sighed, "thing is…I can't quite figure out who the hell is doing it."

             "Okay, so who do we have for suspects?" Rogue asked.

             "Okay, three full time researchers, Halley Robertson, George Redding and Marlene Royston," he stated, "I found out what I can about them, all three are human, but supporters of mutants as far as I can tell.  Halley and George, they're an item, they live together, have two children, and as far as I can tell no criminal records."

             "What about the other one?"

             "She's a rich bitch," Remy remarked, "her father is a multi-millionaire, owns several properties worth a mint or two, runs four businesses, and invests in seven other companies.  She works here voluntarily.  Her father takes care of all her financial needs," Remy explained, "So if Marlene had a motive for stealing chemicals from the centre, it definitely wouldn't be for money."

             "Who else do we have?"

             "Four research assistants, two of them just got out of college, Janine Rowling and Ray Bullock, both are closet mutants, she has the ability to decipher almost any piece of information, even languages she's never learned, and his mutant power is that he can absorb raw electricity into his body, store it up and use it as a kind of lightning strike laser," he responded, "if they had a motive, it would be for money, they both have huge debts."

             "The other two?"

             "Carmen Murdoch, she's in her fifties, married money, inherited a small fortune, her son apparently died of his mutation years before.  She does research part time.  She seems like a rather sweet old lady…" Remy shrugged, "She'd have a motive if it was to stop others from dying during powerful mutations, I guess," he shrugged.

             "Who does that leave?"

             "Sean Cassidy," Remy remarked, "He's not officially a 'research assistant', but more of Moira's lapdog," he explained, "As far as I can tell Sean used to be in Interpol a long time ago.  One thing I know for sure is that Sean is definitely a mutant…he has a scream that could make your head explode.  I can't figure out a motive for him, he seems proud of what he is, and he definitely doesn't have any money problems…"

             "What about Moira?"

             "She's human, has a nice car, wears designer labels, and I snuck into her room one night – even though I shouldn't – and investigated.  She definitely doesn't have anything suspicious we could pinpoint.  No debts, nothing…"

             Rogue sighed, "okay, so how are we going to figure out who's doing this, then?"

             "First thing is first…" Remy gave a soft yawn, "I'm gonna case the place and break in myself."