Aaaand...I'm back.    

***

Thief of Spirits

***

De Gambit's Family

***

Rogue looked around testily at the assemblage in her head, reserving the most scathing look for Kurt.  And Jimmie, how could she leave that little bastard out? 

"Someone please tell me what just happened," she said with a snarl that rivaled Lupe's.  It surprised her a bit when the animal sound came from her own two lips and not in the mind.  She blinked, with her own two eyes, and everyone in the room disappeared.  Save Jimmie; he still sat on the damn coffee table.  The girl briefly wished that the glass would shatter and somehow cripple him in the process.

She winced.  A month ago -nay- five days ago, she never would have thought such a thing.  Maybe it was the water.

Jimmie laughed and Rogue bristled, then forced herself to relax.  The boy watched her intently -warily- waiting for her to speak.  She thought of Cara, the incident in the alley, and the way she sometimes went brain-dead near Remy.  Ah yes, Remy. 

She looked sadly at the door where the dog had lain, where her husband lay within. 

Finally, Rogue thought back to only an hour before...had it only been that long, an hour, maybe a bit more?  An hour ago, she had been eating lunch among new friends.  An hour ago, she had thought she loved Remy.  An hour ago, she had believed in innocence.  Now it seemed that everyone was a betrayer, just biding away his time for the most hurtful moment. 

"Jimmie..."

"I'm sorry."

That sob shot her dead out of the water.  The boy, the little boy, covered his piercing eyes with his hands and began to cry.  The sound was heart wrenching and she had taken him in her arms before she knew what she was doing.  God, that position was getting familiar.  All she seemed to do anymore was cradle scared little boys. 

Carefully, Rogue held Jimmie's head to her heart.  Then she realized who was in her arms and nearly recoiled.  What was she doing?  He was the enemy!

Rogue froze and almost laughed at her thoughts.  Enemy?  She could hardly call a frightened eight-year-old her enemy, especially next to Knave and the old Martin and Gambit. 

Gambit...Rogue shook her head, trying to destroy the memory of duct taped hands, a straitjacket of sheets, and paralyzing crimson eyes.  It did no good.  Instead, her imagination kicked in and told her what could have happened if things had continued down that path. 

She shuddered.  Jimmie shivered as if in response.  Rogue sighed and shook her head.  "Jimmie...Why?"

Yes, why.  Why had he wiped her memory and fiddled with her mind? 

"I 'ad to," came a muffled sob. 

Rogue pulled the unwilling child from her sweater and looked into those incredibly blue eyes that were now rimmed with red. 

"You had ta?"

He nodded.

She smiled, a little exasperated.  "Yes, well what does that mean?  Why did you hafta, Jimmie?"

"Gambit." 

Rogue winced.  How very much that explained.  The mutants at the café only knew Prince LeBeau as Remy.  She doubted they even knew his last name.

"Now how'd you get messed up with this Gambit fella, huh?" 

"Too nosy.  Can't keep my mouth shut." 

Rogue couldn't help but laugh.  "All little kids are that way, Jimmie."

*'m not little, Rogue.*

"Stop that," she demanded, a little too harshly.  "An' of course you're little.  I'm no giant myself, but you fit in my lap an' not tha other way around.  So you know Gambit."

"He's gonna kill me."

The teenager's mouth worked for a moment.  "Jimmie, you gotta stop feedin' me one-liners like that.  You'll turn all my hair gray."

"White, your hair will age white," he said offhandedly.  "But not soon.  That full head of chestnut hair is gonna stick with you for a while."

"Assumin' I live that long: a while," Rogue retorted, a little depressed.  "Gambit might do me in too."

"Nuh-uh.  He'll kill anyone, everyone but you."

Well that was flattering.  Then again, there were fates worse than death.  She went on, trying to drive said worse fates from her head.  "So, what'd you do that's so bad?  Besides brainwash his wife."

Jimmie pointed to the door.  "I let this happen to him and he knows it.  He called -I think, screamed for me and I didn't answer."

"You were unconscious."

"Don't remind me.  Should've been keeping an eye out, paying attention to the important things."

Rogue began to stroke his hair, but stopped when she found the terrible, sticky bone bruise.  "You're 8.  Gambit can't expect you ta be on top of things."

"Mell's been working for Gambit since she was eleven.  He's beat her up lotsa times, for almost nothin'.  I hadta tell on her."  Jimmie looked away for a moment, his gaze going through the wall to study something.  "I don't wanna tell on her, but I have to."

She shook her head.  "Why?"

The neon blue eyes turned to her.  "Gambit's my Dad."

It was lucky Rogue hadn't been carrying him; she would have dropped him.  "What!"

Jimmie wormed his way out of her arms and walked to the curtains.  He parted them and looked down to the left at something.  "Gambit adopts a lot of kids.  Me, Mell –though she don't know it, Leo as a brother...you."    

Rogue frowned.  Jimmie talked about Mell twice in less than a minute.  "Who is Mell?"

He laughed, turned to let her see his twinkling eyes, and then looked back across the street.  "The girl who took Gambit away.  You'll meet her soon enough.  Inevitable.  She's gonna take you two home in about three hours.  It will be safe then."

Rogue shook her head and Jimmie turned, somehow knowing she had silently disagreed.  She glared at him, but then his eyes shimmered and her own pair unfocused.  "Rogue, you're a strong person, but you don't know when you're out of your league.  This isn't high school; you push someone in this world and not only will he push back, he will destroy you.  I'm tired.  I could very easily warp that mind of yours so it acts and talks like Rogue, but is terrified of leaving Gambit's arms.  It would certainly make my life easier."

Some part of her knew what was happening, but her body was frozen and her mind listened to the boy's voice with rapture.  "You're nice.  You should get to go to high school, have a boyfriend who lays you for Christmas, fall in love for real and get married, birth twins that cry all-night duets, that whole thing.  Won't happen.  You're stuck here like me and Mell and misery loves company.  Make the best of it, at least he loves you.  We're just convenient."

Jimmie walked to the front door.  Putting his hand on the handle, he stopped.  "You love him too, though I can't imagine why.  And Rogue, either Cara won't remember what happened today or you won't see her again.  I'm sorry."

He walked out the door.  It was very quiet in the room.  She wondered where her boarder-minds were.  She couldn't even feel their presence.  Rogue went looking around.

In her head there was a sort of door set against one wall.  The lovely wood had a J engraved into it.  She opened it and Lupe leapt out, knocking her flat.  He immediately began licking her face.  She shoved the rude thing off of her.

The next person walked out more slowly.  Matt smiled at her, "It's nice in there.  Feel free ta visit."  He took Leo's mind by the scruff of the neck and led it back inside.

Rogue smiled too when the door shut.  Privacy was a wonderful thing, even if it was granted by a little beast.  She put a hand on the J, and then opened her eyes. 

It was confusing to jump between her mind and the real world.  Everything was confusing.  Mutants, why she couldn't touch, how Aunt Irene had known she was there, Gambit's whole world...she didn't understand any of it.  She could get by, follow along like an innocent lamb, but the questions plagued her.  Everyone was so cryptic, like it was illegal to say anything outright. 

That's why she liked Cara so much; the young woman was straightforward.  She saw what needed to be done and did it.  Rogue hoped she was okay.  Remembering Jimmie's words, she shuddered.  She hoped even more that Cara would stay okay.

The girl got up and walked to Remy's door.  There, she opened it and peeked into the dark room.  Remy lay on the floor, broken, but breathing and no longer bleeding heavily.  She shut it and went back to the lounge.  He would wake up and she didn't want to deal with him until then.  She needed time to think.

The mini-fridge sat under the counter, waiting.  Rogue was tempted to just take a beer, but she held off.  Alcohol reminded her of Xavier's wild man.  Where had they gone?  At some point during Kurt's romp with her body –that sounded plain wrong, Mush Mind had fallen into deep thought.  He stayed like that for a long time, then disappeared.  He had been there and then the world popped and he was gone.  There, pop, gone. 

Rogue shivered.  It had only been with her mind's eye, but it had been disconcerting.  She'd seen people teleport before and that hadn't been a teleport.  Kurt left a trail of smoke and Allan's victims glowed for a split millisecond before going on their merry way.  Xavier just went gone, like he no longer existed. 

She smiled.  That was wishful thinking.  If only people did just wink out of existence.  Rogue had a very choice list of which people, too.  They would all disappear, one by one, until there was no one left to block her way out.

But did Remy belong on that list?  If the right people disappeared, would the Gambit disappear forever and leave Remy, the person Jimmie said loved her more than anything?  The person he said she loved? 

Unfortunately, no one would disappear and Rogue had only one choice.  She could stay and deal with the madness or run.  If she ran, how long would she last until she was dragged back?  Long enough?

But if she ran, it would be Gambit who gripped her chains and pulled her to him.  The Remy she knew was so fragile, it would be broken forever.  Only the monster would remain. 
Why had he married her, this girl he knew he could never touch?  If the real Remy had made the choice, then it was love.  The player would have done it as a challenge, turned her into a conquest.  But he hadn't tried anything, so she doubted it. 

The monster, he chose her as a tool or a toy.  Rogue didn't know which was worse.  She curled up on the couch.  The necklace curled about her neck, cold as always.  Remy had said it belonged to Lilly.  Until she died.  That was the kicker there.  When the old one died, another Belle wore it.  If Rogue died early, next month for example, would Gambit just find another girl and lock it to her neck too?  Was Rogue that other girl?  Had there been someone before her that Gambit called Petite? 

It was chilling to think and she tried to push it away.  As always, the attempt failed.  She and Kurt had fought to convince Xavier that Remy hadn't killed those two kids.  By judging times, she knew he couldn't have done in Kurt and carried her off at the same time.  And he'd never known that Kitty person.  He hadn't even known about Lilly's tomb crashing in. 

Rogue shivered, thinking that could have been her under all that rubble.  But just because he hadn't killed those two or had them killed didn't mean he hadn't killed before.  There was that girl in Disney World, for example.  No one knew anything about that except that he had killed her.  Gambit's private life was damn near unknown, except that he was a player.  How bad a player had he been?  One that didn't take no for answer?  He certainly hadn't given Rogue any choice.  He'd barely given her a reason and a lame one at that.               

A set of strange noises came from the hall and she went to the eyehole.  A workman went by with a roll of wall paper and then another with wood paneling and another with wood varnish.  She cracked the door and watched the men repair the extensive damage the "fight" between the wild man and Remy had caused.  They worked quickly and silently, like robots.  In a few hours, all evidence of the incident would be gone.  Rogue wondered if Xavier had sent them.  Whoever the person responsible, he wanted very much to keep the incident a secret.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jimmie knelt in front of the fallen Cara.  He touched her face and found out she was real, if he could trust his hands.  He listened for breathing and found a pulse.  It had been disconcerting not to know if she was alive. 

Alive...yes, that was the void he felt.  Cemeteries had that kind of void, at least they did six feet under.  Corpses were just bags of rotting matter; the universe didn't care about them.  The universe was alive and the dead were not part of it.  Not that graves were entirely voids, but Jimmie was too squeamish to listen to the chatter of maggots, so they might as well have been. 

He placed a hand on the woman who universe said was dead.  Was she a ghost or had her mutant abilities done it to her?  Whatever the reason, it meant he couldn't find her mind.  Unfortunately, Jimmie had to find her mind and alter it or she would die shortly. 

The boy remembered the conversation with Gambit on that one.  People who knew too much died, plain and simple.  If Jimmie didn't want them to die, he fixed their memory.  Annoying and inconvenient as Cara was, he didn't want her to die.  Jimmie could erase memory, he'd learned how to a few months after Remy had adopted him.  A person who didn't know anything wouldn't die.

Unfortunately, Jimmie couldn't erase hard information like the computer files Mell made up for Gambit.  Gambit read his file once a week, locking Jimmie as his adopted son and dirty worker.  Jimmie rubbed his arm, remembering the first time he had tried to make the prince forget him.  Gambit wasn't stupid.  He pieced the story together.  Then he smashed Jimmie's arm into pieces.  Jimmie knew the young man hadn't meant it, but it still scared him straight.

Then things got bad and he tried again.  The second time, he had left no loose ends, no trail of incriminating bread crumbs.  He got out of New Orleans and headed all the way north to Minnesota.  Jimmie latched onto a barren couple and became their kid.  Then the grocery trip.  Gambit had learned from past mistakes and kept a little "reminder" about his son.  Jimmie had gone to get some milk for his "mom" and a man disguised as a clerk had dragged him into the storage room.

Jimmie hadn't been so aware back then.  He had to concentrate to find anything.  Finding Remy in the café had been pure bad luck that never ceased to haunt him.  He had never seen the kidnapping coming. 

Jimmie rubbed his head absently.  Some things never changed.

The man-for-hire had slapped him into a crate and shipped him south.  A day and a half later, Gambit tore the top off the crate.  Jimmie had slunk down, but the wood and metal bars began to glow and then he couldn't get out fast enough.  It had been bad, real bad.  Bones hadn't been broken, but his "dad" had better control than before. 

That had been the last "lesson."  There were threats, a whole lot of threats, but Jimmie had learned how to hide his tracks.  With time, it turned into a sort of playful relationship, but the threat was still there every time the boy stepped out of the little box Gambit had put him in.   

Some part of the boy knew it was better than being homeless, like he had been before Gambit.  Still, it chafed and he wanted to be a normal kid, even a normal mutant kid.  Like Caleigh.

It was funny, but Jimmie was in love with the girl.  He was old enough -he knew enough, rather- to know he did.  She would grow up so kind and cheery.  She would be so beautiful.  Her nose would be too large and her skin would mottle with age, but she would be beautiful until the end.

The sad thing was: Caleigh would grow up and be a rainbow lighting the world while Jimmie...he was LeBeau.  If not in blood, then in name.  He had seen his path and saw it led into darkness, away from rainbow painted skies.  So far, Remy had held him an arm's length from the LeBeau world, but he had already let Mell fall in.  How long until Jimmie was submersed too? 

And Rogue, how long would she last until she became Lilly?  How long until she started to use her ability to manipulate people's emotions skillfully and selfishly?  The old matriarch had done enough damage.  The last thing the Thieving world needed was another Madame LeBeau pulling the strings.

Jimmie sighed and put his hand on Cara's forehead.  After a deep breath, he dove into the void.  He would either find a mind or become lost in the Dark. 

After half an hour of flying through nothing, he found it.  He was so surprised, he almost lost it again.  The tiny sphere floated in the very center, connected to the void by so many threads of darkness.  The boy fought his way through the black tangle to the glowing shield.  Then he put his hands out and passed through the light.

Inside, there was a blue-violet abyss, like the green one in Rogue's mind.  This was the real Cara, hidden so deeply in the darkness, surrounded by it.  Jimmie closed his eyes and got the feel of her mind.  Cara was a military kid, had grown up on a base.  She had wanted to join the army, but the accident –that's what she called her mutation: the accident- it had destroyed her dream.  It hadn't seemed fair to the normal people.  She was a fair person. 

Cara was a drifter, but she relied on no one.  She always did the odd good deed.  She didn't deserve to die.

Jimmie held out his hands and cycled through her most recent memories.  Remy's eyes had frightened her out of her wits.  He could hardly blame her; they did that to everyone and the terror never really went away.  You could hide it or overpower it, but it was there.

She had been so worried about Rogue's muddled behavior.  Jimmie had just dismissed it for what it was: the beginnings of love, but Cara hadn't seen it that way.  Looking through her eyes, the teenager had seemed mesmerized.  When Rogue had been unable to answers Cara's questions about Remy, the woman had expected the worst.

Then Jimmie had made the goof.  He'd ignored her and tried to take Rogue away.  It would have worked; he could have fixed Rogue not to remember Cara at all and let the woman fade out of the picture when she saw she couldn't do anything.  He hadn't expected such a...violent reaction. 

It didn't matter, Gambit was alive, Rogue was finally processing that she was stuck with Remy, and Jimmie had reached Cara's head.  No one had to die. 

He looked once more through wood and concrete to where he knew Mell sat in her car, drunk and smoking.  No one had to die, and Jimmie wanted to make sure he was the only one who would get hurt when Gambit woke up.

*Mell, they're comin' out 2 hours, 23 minutes at the earliest.  Go in and get a few strong cups of coffee.  It won't do anything towards getting you sober, but it will get the stink off your breath.  Get the smoke out of the car.*

Jimmie smiled at her face, even though he couldn't really see it.  *I won't tell on you, just don't get caught.  I'm in enough trouble already, I don't need Gambit thinking I'm holding back information.*

"Who are you?" she whispered and Jimmie shook his head.  How in the dark was Mell, really?  Death threats from Remy set aside, she had the most sheltered life he had ever seen.  She lived in the LeBeau complex and never left unless on a job.  Openly, anyway.  Mell had been visiting bars and other sleaze joints for years. 

People never said anything; she was LeBeau.  And no one dared tell Gambit anything about it.  Knave had made sure of that.  Jimmie disliked the King with a passion.  The bastard had so many shields on him that the boy never had the faintest idea what the man was thinking.  Jimmie hated being in the dark. 

Why Knave showed such an interest in the girl was beyond him, but it was something that he truly did not want to think about.  The relationship between those three was a nuclear weapon.  If he nudged it the slightest bit, it would be sayonara.

Fortunately, Jimmie didn't have to deal with it.  All he had to do was fix one woman's head.  He focused on one question.  "What do you see in him anyway?"

He grabbed hold of the memory, millions of intricately knotted threads, and it came undone.  Then came the hard part.  Bit by bit, he tied the fibers into the form of his choosing.  When he was done, the boy tapped the center of the geometric spiral.  The taunt cords chimed like bells and the question played again.

"What do you see in him anyway?" 

Rogue turned, a bit startled at the question.  Then she smiled and her eyes shone, emeralds lit from within.  She didn't say anything, but those eyes said it very clearly.

'I see true love,' they said.

The memory knot began to shake violently and all the following knots fell apart.  Jimmie picked up the threads and went to work.

They went shopping.  Jimmie was just adorable, acting like a little gentleman.  He offered to carry the bags but the two adults waved him off.  Cara looked at Rogue.  Her friend seemed younger than eighteen, but she hardly looked twenty-six herself.  Rogue laughed and played tag with Jimmie in the street.  The girl was eighteen; she just acted young, sometimes. 

At others, she seemed old as the world itself.  Rogue was so vibrant, but she acted dark and gloomy.  It was laughable, but she just couldn't laugh at Rogue; she was too good a friend.  It had been two days, no more than five hours, but Rogue was a friend.       

She walked with Rogue to her hotel.  The concierge was nice, if a little too cheerful.  Cara said goodbye outside her room and offered for Rogue to visit her at the hotel the next day at noon, but the girl already had plans.  She could see Rogue in three days, if her friend's plans didn't change.  The southern girl was a busy one, that was for sure.  She shut the door and yawned. 

Cara went to the table and picked up a book.  Laying on the floor, she opened to the bookmarked page.  She tried to read, but her eyes kept unfocusing or rereading the same line again and again.  Finally, she just fell asleep on the floor.

Jimmie smiled grimly, his work done.  Turning towards the wall of the abyss, it turned into a thoughtful frown.  It would be terribly hard to find Cara's mind again in the void and he had feeling he would need to fix thing again, and quickly.  He placed a hand on the spherical wall and began to drill.

He tunneled through the darkness, traveling to the real world.  Looking back, he decided it would be bad to change the structure of Cara's mind like that.  Two steel doors sprang up and each end of the tunnel.  Cara's mind wouldn't be able to reach out and outside forces couldn't worm their way into her head.  Except for Jimmie, of course, but he liked to think he wouldn't abuse the privilege.  He may have been a LeBeau, but only in name. 

Halfway out the door, Jimmie froze and shook his head ruefully.  He had almost forgot.  He went back to the table and picked up the book.  He opened it to the marked page and set it under Cara's hand.  He'd almost left a loose end.  You'd think he would have learned that lesson by now. 

The boy left the hotel and walked into the bar to keep an eye on Mell.  No one saw him.  He told their eyes not to see him or not pay any attention, which ever was easier.  Despite that, he managed to get a root beer.  Jimmie drank it out of a cup.  He didn't like the feel of a mug or a bottle.  Across the room, Mell cradled a cup of coffee in the nook of her arm. 

It seemed that she was taking slow sips, but there were already two emptied mugs besides her.  She had no concept of moderation, not a bit.  When Mell raised a hand for a fourth, the waiter just left an entire pot.  Jimmie raised his eyebrows -he hadn't figured out how to just quirk one brow yet.  That much caffeine wouldn't be good for her.  Still, "Mell's conscious" didn't pipe up as it often did when Jimmie was around.  Unlike drinking or smoking, it wouldn't kill her.  She would be up all night, however.  That meant she would sneak out and yet again there would be an extra teenager dancing at the club.  And there would be an extra man in the crowd, keeping an eye on the extra girl.  Knave would see to that.                   

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the dark, Gambit opened his eyes.  There was no friendly kick in the balls to greet him, so he wondered what was wrong.  Lurching to his feet, he winced.  The shredded shoulder hurt a lot more than it had now that the adrenaline was gone.  He listened at the door, but there was nothing.  He opened it clumsily.  It swung out, and asleep on the couch in the lounge lay Rogue. 

Gambit stiffened, but no beast came out of nowhere to threaten her.  There was no voice in his head.  He scouted around the suite and found it deserted.  There was no laptop, no coats, and no leather duffel.  He distinctly remembered seeing a leather duffel in the bathroom and it was gone.  His trench coat –or rather, what was left of his trench coat was still where it had been.  But the mirror over the counter in the lounge hadn't been cracked before. 

Remy looked at his Petite, confused.  The lonely look was back and he went to her.  It was warm in the room and she had removed her sweater.  The tank became her, but there was too much skin.  The man looked down at his own clothing, shredded in several places.  His arms were completely bare save what the gloves covered.  Even then, it wasn't much.  His fingertips were showing.

An uneasy laugh escaped his lips.  Why hadn't he thought to use his power?  It would have been a lot easier to just blow the Wolverine to smithereens.  The answer to his question sobered him up completely.  Xavier had been messing with his head.  Why hadn't the man just looked in Remy's head and found out whether or not he had anything to do with the deaths?  Again, the answer was obvious and depressing.  Xavier hadn't cared; he just wanted someone to hurt.

The young man gingerly touched his smashed nose.  It would need to be broken again if he wanted to have anything resembling a nose ever again.  The Professor had found a good scapegoat.  Remy wouldn't even go to the hospital.  He would fix the nose himself and bind the shoulder and clean the slices in his flesh.  By himself.  The iodine was going to have a field day. 

Remy went to the bathroom and washed his face to get rid of the blood.  She gave the shoulder similar treatment.  It wasn't pretty and still seeped blood.  Remy pressed a folded hand towel to the wound.  He went back into the lounge and struggled into the trench coat.  The coat kept the impromptu bandage on the shoulder.  Finally covered enough, Remy went to Rogue and put her in his arms. 

She awoke and looked up at him.  He smiled, but she looked away.  Something had happened to her in the...how long had it been?  Since lunch, something had changed.  "Petite?"

"How could you, Gambit?"

He shook a little.  She had never called him Gambit before.  Rogue tore out of his grasp. 

"I didna kill dem, Chere."

She snorted, "Yeah, I kinda figured that one out on my own.  What tha Hell have ya been doin' to me!"

Remy looked at her in shock.  "What do you mean, Petite?"

She shook her head and walked away.  Damn if she wasn't irrational.  Before she was half-way to the door outside, Remy took her in his arms.  "What do you want, Rogue?  If I can, I'll give it to you."  She struggled, but he held onto her.

"Let go a' me," she said finally.

Remy shook his head.  "Said I'd never let you go, ma Petite."  Still, he let her out of his arms.  He only held onto her hand and led her to the tall chair Logan had shoved him into earlier.  He sat on one chair arm and leaned around, boxing his wife in on all four sides.  Then he let go of her hand.

"Anyt'ing else, Chere?"

She glared at him.  "I want ta go home."

"Okay, I'll have Mell bring by de car."

"My home, Gambit!"

Remy grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.  "Don't call me Gambit, Belle.  He might just come out an' scare you.  Yo' old home is not'ing.  I am your home now.  Me."  He stopped, then said softly, "You're my home too, Petite, an' I'm gettin' awful homesick.  I want to go home too, but I can't."  He let her go and walked away.  What would she do, run?

Part of him, the dark part, wished she would.  Then he could just become Gambit and force her to be what he wanted.  He'd done it before.  But it didn't work that way.  However much Rogue aggravated him, she didn't deserve Gambit and he wouldn't force her.  So they both would be lonely.

"Let's go home, Petite."  He pulled a sturdy cell from a battered pocket and made the call to Mell.  Looking down at himself, he realized not only did he look like a rag man, but his shades were destroyed. 

'Jimmie.' 

*Yes?*  The voice was small.  Good. 

'Get Gambit home without anyone noticin'.  Den get home too.  We're goin' to have a talk.'

***


Things are piecing themselves back together...poor Remy and Rogue.  They seemed so close at lunchtime.  Oh well, Remy still loves Rogue, so it's just a matter of time...shoot!  This is turning into a typical Remy fights to get the girl fic!  NOOOOO!  I tried so hard to get away from it and it still came back and bit me.

I'll just have to throw in *another* cruel plot twist.  Don't y'all hate me?  Cara is still bumming around.  And Lizzy and Darien are strangely absent...                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

At least it's not a Mary-Sue.  NO ONE can call this a Mary-Sue...if you discount the dozens of OCs.  At least they back up Remy's rather...how shall I put this...EMPTY character.  He goes in, woos the girl, blows up stuff, does the look at you with demon eyes things, and disappears.  And then there's that vague thing about why he works for Magneto, but that doesn't apply to my fic.  How boring.  He had ONE episode in Evo, big whoop.