THE HEAVENS OPEN
by Stormkeeper
CHAPTER THREE
My heart started beating faster. I couldn't believe that Rogue and Gambit had just vanished. Wolverine said, "I can smell which way they went. Follow me." So we quickly placed the dilithium we'd acquired into the shuttle and followed Wolverine.
"They couldn't have gone too far," Kurt said, teleporting back to the shuttle join the rest of us. "We have not been gone long."
The three of us then followed Wolverine. We swiftly walked towards a heavily wooded area. The shuttle and the dilithium had been in a clearing, but Wolverine was apparently tracking Rogue and Gambit towards a forested area. Storm flew slightly above us to get a better view. We had to step over twigs and dodge thick bushes. I got a scrape on the side of my face from something as I tried to keep up with the others. This forest seemed woodier and heavier than those on An'zhina. Kurt held a flashlight to help illuminate our way.
I considered making a joke along the lines of how funny it would be if the two of them had simply decided they couldn't restrain themselves and were screwing in the woods, but I knew they wouldn't do that on a mission like this.
"I see them," Storm said.
"I smell them. Up ahead," Wolverine said.
Wolverine pushed a thick bush out of the way, and we came to a halt when we saw Rogue and Gambit sitting together on a large, fallen branch in a small clearing. Standing in front of them was a man.
"Hello, Wolverine, Storm, Iceman and Nightcrawler," the man said.
It was mega-confusion time, at least for me. This guy was apparently speaking English! And he knew our names. This man looked human, just as human as the Endarians appeared. I would say that the man was perhaps in his forties, tall and slender with salt-and-pepper colored hair and a mustache and beard. His hair was long. He wore a dark cloak----I couldn't really see what else he had on.
But Gambit and Rogue were the strangest part of this whole thing. They just sat there on the branch, looking straight ahead. Like zombies or something.
"Who are you?" Storm asked. "How do you know our names, and what have you done with our friends?"
"There is no cause for concern, Storm," the man replied. "My name is Dagron. I noticed that I had visitors from another world and I wanted to get to know them."
"What did you do to 'em?" Wolverine asked, peering at Rogue and Gambit. "They're lookin' pretty out of it."
"Your friends are unharmed. I simply wanted to know more about where they came from and what they are doing here."
As this Dagron guy spoke, I noticed Storm take out a tricorder and scan Rogue and Gambit. Apparently they really were alright; Storm did not look concerned..
"We would like to return to our shuttle now," Storm said. "Reverse whatever it is you have done to them."
"And do it now," Wolverine said, with a look on his face indicating he would unsheathe his claws in an instant. I myself was ready to shoot out a burst of ice at this guy if I had to.
"I will gladly do so," Dagron said, "in due time. It seems an exchange of some sort is in order. After all, you are taking a substance from my land, a substance you need very much. In return, I want to know more about you and what you plan to use it for. If you'll allow me but a few more minutes with them."
Storm's response surprised me. She agreed to it. I later found out that Jean had telepathically hooked up with Storm again and assured her that Rogue and Gambit were basically alright….just "on hold." Storm's own tricorder scan had confirmed that physically they were unharmed as well. Storm gave Wolverine a look which commanded that he stand down from his urge to fight this guy. So we had an awkward few minutes as we stood around Rogue and Gambit and this Dagron. We were all silent. I could hear the sounds of the forest whispering all around us. An animal which sounded, I swear, just like an owl made a hooting noise.
Then Dagron nodded. "You may leave now. Feel free to take as much of the substance you call dilithium as you need." He then snapped his fingers, and Rogue and Gambit both looked like they'd just waken up from a nap.
"Where are we?" "What's goin' on?" the two of them asked, looking around.
"Are you alright?" Nightcrawler asked.
"Yeah," Rogue said, her voice slow and weary. "'Cept I feel like I been nappin' for a while…..How'd we get over here?"
"Come on, let's get out of here," Storm said. "We will explain later." As we helped Gambit and Rogue to their feet, Wolverine turned his head.
"He's gone," he said. "Dagron's gone."
I looked up from Rogue and Gambit, and saw that Dagron had somehow silently and instantly departed the clearing.
"I wish I knew what the hell just happened," I muttered.
"Dat make two of us," Gambit said, rubbing his head.
"Let's sort this out later," Storm said. "For now, let us return to the shuttle and take inventory. We might have enough dilithium to leave this place now."
Rogue and Gambit were still weak, so Nightcrawler held onto both of them as he teleported them and himself back to the shuttle. Storm seemed to be in a hurry as well. She grabbed one of my hands and one of Logan's, and flew us back to the shuttle.
Rogue and Gambit were sitting down inside the shuttle, as Nightcrawler ran the dilithium through several scans.
"This is enough to get Freedom back to An'zhina," he said.
Storm looked over his shoulder and shook her head. "To be safe, Kurt, I think we need a little more. I find this place as unsettling as I suspect the rest of you do, now but we must ensure that we truly have enough dilithium."
"Then I will teleport one more time," Kurt offered.
"I'll go with you," Wolverine said. "We can carry more this way."
The two teleported away and returned just seconds later. Storm had already made her way to the captain's chair and started pressing some buttons. When she described the place as "unsettling", I think she was using characteristic understatement. The whole thing was giving me the creeps. I'd never seen Remy and Rogue looking so out of it, and how did that Dagron guy do it so quickly?? And how'd he just disappear?
"What's wrong?" I asked, at the gasp I heard from Storm. Hearing Storm gasp is just not a good sign either.
"All of our systems are off-line. And I have no idea why! Bobby, it appears that we have no functional propulsion systems on this shuttle."
****************
From Freedom, Jean now continuously monitored the away team's minds. Upon sensing this new burst of panic, she "spoke' directly to Storm. //What is it?// Jean asked.
//The shuttle is completely inoperable.// Storm responded. //I cannot even run a diagnostic on it to determine why---none of the controls are responding. The back-ups are all non-functional too. This makes no sense. It worked just an instant ago when Kurt scanned the dilithium.//
On board Freedom's bridge, the X-men debated what to do. From the distance they were at, they couldn't diagnose the problem with the shuttle; their reduced sensors could not get anywhere near specific enough. They did not have the dilithium left to launch the other shuttle to go after the other X-men on the planet. And the downed shuttle did not have the equipment necessary to process the raw dilithium, even if its power had been working.
"So how do we get them back on board Freedom?" Jubilee asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
Jean saw the eyes of those clustered onto the bridge look towards Cyclops, and she felt her husband's growing fright. He didn't have any ideas. Jean then walked up to one of the computers on the bridge and started pressing a few buttons.
"I think I have a solution," she said. "We might have enough dilithium to beam them back up."
"But I thought that we didn't," Jubilee said. "I mean, isn't that why we had them take a shuttle in the first place?"
"If we shut down each room and shut down life support everywhere----except engineering. And if we turn off the cloaking device. I think then we'll have enough to beam them back up and to process some of the raw dilithium they have."
Cyclops looked over his wife's shoulder at the projections she was keying in. "That's a brilliant idea," he said. "It would mean leaving the shuttle on the planet though. We don't have enough energy to beam it back up."
Jean nodded. "Once we process the raw dilithium, we can beam the shuttle back up."
"Shutting down the cloaking device is terribly risky!" Jeanne-Marie said.
"I think we have no other choice at this point," Jean said. "If we can process the dilithium quickly, the risk might not be so great."
Many on board Freedom did not like that plan; Jeanne-Marie felt her pulse start to soar. She knew they had to rescue the away team and bring the dilithium back on board. But as the X-men had discussed, in space terms they were not far from Endaria, and according to all last known reports, three Friends of Humanity starships still patrolled Endaria. But the decision was already being made.
"Let's do it!" Cyclops stated.
Hector Rendoza spoke up. "What about Mark?" he asked. "Didn't we configure our on-board sensors so that he can't enter engineering?" Indeed Mark was one of only two people on board Freedom who was not standing in the overcrowded bridge; that was another room he'd been barred from.
"I'll override that piece of programming right now," Panda said, adroitly pressing a few buttons. "Ready!" she said, in seconds' time.
"Beast, meet us in engineering, right away," Cyclops called over his communicator. Hank McCoy still worked away in the lab, never leaving his research. "We're shutting down life support to the rest of the ship!"
"I shall be there straightaway," Hank replied.
The X-men scrambled to relocate themselves into engineering, walking or jogging swiftly down the halls. Once inside engineering, Cyclops quickly performed a count to ensure that they had everyone.
"Any change in the status of the away team?" he asked Jean.
"No," Jean replied. "Their systems still completely off-line."
"I'm shutting off all life support now," Cyclops said.
**************
The six of us stood or sat inside the shuttle. I was starting to feel as dazed and confused as Rogue and Gambit looked. But next thing I knew, I was being beamed back aboard Freedom.
"We have them all!" I heard Jubilee exclaim.
And then it was a blur. I think Cyke had Shaman and Panda get to processing the dilithium, Hank scanned us with a tricorder, while Jean looked us over. We were all pronounced to be in good physical health, none of us having picked up anything while on the planet's surface.
But Rogue and Gambit still looked as if they'd spent last night getting wasted and now had the hangover of the century. I'd really never seen them looking like this.
"How do you feel?" she asked them, as the others scrambled feverishly in the background to get the dilthium into a usable format. I'd heard something about our cloaking device being off and knew that meant we had to get this dilithium ready for use ASAP.
"Tired," Gambit managed.
"I feel weird," Rogue said, her words slurring together oddly.
I couldn't make sense out of what had just occurred, so I decided to stand against a wall and let the others figure things out. As the others madly processed the dilithium and Jean looked at Rogue and Gambit, I made my way over to where Jean-Paul stood. Engineering was a fairly large area, but with everyone crammed inside, room to maneuver was limited. In the background, I saw little Aurora running around and Jubilee trying to calm the child down. Rory ran into Nightcrawler, and he picked her up and cooed to her in such a way that she quieted down. I managed to reach Jean-Paul's side.
"Hi," I said.
"Hello," he replied, reaching for one of my hands and grasping it. But his face was a mask.
Jean-Paul, I had noticed during the time we'd been together, had a few different facial expressions that I would see. My favorite was a look of love that he'd give only to me, his eyes blazing. But other times his face would display what I referred to (in my mind, at least) as 'the mask'-----the unreadable look of him retreating into himself and not wanting to deal with the outside world. That was how he appeared at that time. I swallowed my melancholy. Well, at least he reached to hold my hand. But that didn't mitigate the fact that we were in for a difficult period for our relationship, the relationship may or may not survive, and Jean-Paul might succumb to this disease at any point….no, life was just not going to be easy anytime soon.
"Done!" I heard Panda say. "We've processed the dilithium and we have enough to take us back to An'zhina."
"I'm re-engaging the cloaking device," Cyclops said. "Sensors show we're still alone out here." He looked down at his monitor and I could tell something was wrong. "I'm trying to lock onto the shuttle and beam it back on board…..but it's gone."
Cyke and the others were stumped by that. They checked and rechecked all the sensors and could not figure out why they were unable to detect the shuttle. Since our dilithium supply was replenished, they had enhanced sensors back on and should have been able to pinpoint the shuttle as easily as they'd been able to beam us up.
"I wonder if that man---Dagron---has something to do with this," Storm said.
"Who?" Jean asked.
"Dagron," Storm repeated. "The man who…lured Rogue and Gambit away from the shuttle. When you communicated with me telepathically, were you not also able to tell that another mind was there?"
"No," Jean said, sounding perplexed. "I wasn't looking for anyone else, but all I sensed was the five of you."
"That Dagron guy's the reason Rogue and Gambit are lookin' like they were hit by a bus," Wolverine added.
"Whoever he is, he must be very powerful," Nightcrawler said. "If indeed it is him who is causing all this."
I saw Jean take another look at Rogue and Gambit. She closed her eyes and nodded. "I do sense….the footprint, so to speak, of another. It is as though both of your minds were opened and scanned by some….great power."
"That's almost what it feels like," Rogue said. "I know what it's like when I got someone else in my head and that's what I felt like," she said, referring to, I guess, Carol Danvers. Rogue had told me that story during one of those long, lazy days on the Paradise planet, about how Ms. Marvel had been contained inside her mind for a long time.
Gambit nodded. "'Dough I feel like it gone now."
"Me too," Rogue agreed. I was glad to hear that both of them were starting to sound a bit more like themselves.
We X-men talked some more and decided to just head back to An'zhina. No matter what the others tried, they couldn't find the shuttle. We hated the idea of leaving it on this strange world----imagine, as Hank pointed out, the ramifications of leaving a shuttle from earth on a planet which does not yet have warp capability. We might **really** have fucked with their natural evolution. But try as we might, we couldn't locate the thing and it just didn't make sense for us to send any more parties down to try and find it. Not after the kinds of things that occurred on our mission. It was far too risky.
So back to An'zhina it was. A few cheers in engineering broke out when Cyke programmed Freedom to take us back to our heavenly haven.
We had enough dilithium to get us back there, but we didn't have much to spare either. Therefore, we decided to continue keeping most parts of the ship shut down. We did reopen the personnel quarters so we'd no longer have to sleep in the mess hall (yay!!), and we decided to re-open the gym/Danger Room for limited time periods. We kept the rec room shut down though; we'd simply continue to use the mess hall as our "hanging out" place. All the children's toys were there anyway. We slightly raised the ship temperature and decided to travel at a slower speed so that although we were near An'zhina, the trip would take an additional two weeks. If we went at maximum warp, we'd be there in far less time, but warp speed really drains the dilithium.
"Yay!" Jubilee said. "I'm so glad the mission was a success. We'll be home in two weeks!"
She summed up how I felt. I was glad to leave that strange world behind and couldn't wait to get back to An'zhina.
*************
The overcrowded shuttle reached the dense mists that surrounded Endarian space. Its cloaking device intact, it was able to slip past the two FOH starships which patrolled that area of space.
Professor X, Angel, Moira and Banshee met the shuttle when it docked. As the Xavier's powers had foretold, they found nine female mutants, all former captives of the Friends of Humanity. The tale they told was surprising, but not altogether shocking either. The women had been rescued by two who met the description of Psylocke and Marrow. Moira and Banshee took the nine under their wing and showed them around An'zhina.
"Well, I'm happy for these ladies, that they're free now. But that doesn't bring us any closer to my daughter or my two younger grandkids," John Grey proclaimed.
His wife Elaine nodded. "We have to be patient, John," she said. "You know what Charles told us. The minute he senses that the X-men are returning to An'zhina, he'll let us know."
John forced himself to take a deep breath and exhale is slowly. "I know. Ever since Jean joined the X-men, I've done nothing but worry about her."
"This is the burden we must bear."
"I suppose," John added, after a pause, "that it is nothing compared to the burden that Jean—and the others like her---have to deal with."
**************
As soon as the dilithium had been processed and the X-men started to file out of engineering, Northstar returned to the mess hall to carry his belongings back to his quarters. He was glad to be finished with spending nights on a sleeping bag in the same room with everyone else. Every fiber in his body yearned for **privacy.** He couldn't take any more condolences, anymore "Is there anything I can do to help you?''s. Now everyone knew (if they hadn't guessed it before) that the FOH soldiers had raped him, now everyone knew that he had HIV. He knew that he should not feel shame over these things….but still, it was all way too much, far too invasive.
Before leaving engineering, he nodded at Jeanne-Marie, knowing (and loving the fact that) she understood exactly how he felt. Northstar's head felt heavy when he thought of Bobby, though, and saw the look on his lover's face when he slipped out of engineering. Fortunately, Bobby had the sense to give him some solitude and not charge right after him.
And so alone Northstar remained for several hours, until his communicator sounded.
"It's Bobby. I just wanted to let you know that dinner's ready."
A pause. "Thanks for telling me."
"…are you gonna eat with the group?"
"I don't think so. I need some time alone."
"You want me to bring your dinner to you?"
Another pause this time. Northstar was split between his own desires, and not wanting Bobby to feel like a servant. Jean-Paul could go get his own dinner when everyone was finished. "I don't want to inconvenience you," he said, sounding more cold than he wanted.
It was Bobby's turn to hesitate, and Jean-Paul knew from his lover's tone that he had hurt him. "You're never an inconvenience to me. I would be happy to do it."
"Okay. And Bobby…thanks."
Moments later, Bobby appeared at Northstar's door with a tray full of food. "You want some company when you eat or do you wanna be alone?" Bobby asked.
Northstar noted that Bobby was doing an admirable job keeping the pain out of his voice. "I thank you, ma coeur, for being understanding of me. I think I would like to be alone for now."
Bobby nodded and silently withdrew.
Northstar ate very slowly, thinking as he chewed each bite. For a mutant with the ability to move at hyper-speeds, he had come to develop an appreciation for slowness too. That appreciation would grow more and more now, he speculated. He took his time with dinner and savored each bite. `Who knows how much time I truly have left to live?' Jean-Paul asked himself. It was a mind-boggling thought, one which he pondered endlessly. `I'm not sick now, but anything could happen. I might have a few months left, or I might have eight years.'
More time passed and it was getting late on board the ship. Jeanne-Marie used her communicator to wish her brother goodnight. Her action prompted Jean-Paul to then call Bobby.
"I just wanted to wish you good night, amour," Jean-Paul said.
Jean-Paul could practically hear Bobby smile on the other end. "Pleasant dreams to you, too." Bobby paused. "Do you want a hug before you turn in?"
Jean-Paul hesitated. No, he really did not want a hug, frankly. But he wanted even less for Bobby to feel hurt. He sighed inwardly. Shaman had once told him that relationships were all about compromise, and Jeanne-Marie had added, `You can't have it your way all the time, mon frere, although we both know that is what you want, oui?'
"Yes, I would," Jean-Paul answered Bobby's question.
"I'll be right there."
Bobby was at Jean-Paul's room in an instant, clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt. "You look like you are all ready for bed," Jean-Paul commented.
"I was." Bobby walked over towards the bed and sat right down upon it. "You still have your uniform on. Are you going to change? You still have that cozy sweatshirt, right?"
"Of course. It's still too cold on this ship to sleep without." He looked at Bobby sitting on the bed and walked over towards him. Bobby held out his arms, and Northstar allowed himself to be hugged.
"It feels so nice to have my arms around you," Bobby murmured, hugging Northstar tight.
Northstar didn't reply but he did return the hug. Bobby started gently moving his hands, his caresses gradually becoming more and more insistent.
Northstar pulled away. "It is time for us to sleep."
"Can I sleep here?" Bobby asked, eagerly.
Northstar shut his eyes. Bobby certainly could be persistent. "No, amour. I told you that I need some time alone. You understand, oui?"
Bobby looked downwards, though his grip on Jean-Paul remained; he still had one arm around Northstar's shoulders and the other resting on his thigh. "Then maybe I can stay just a little while longer?"
A few moments of silence slipped away. Northstar couldn't meet those pleading eyes. "Alright," he replied.
Bobby again drew him closer, into another hug. "You're so tense," Bobby murmured, his hands working. "You need to relax. Maybe I could give you a backrub."
"I'd prefer not," Jean-Paul kept his voice flat.
"Why not?" Bobby asked, undeterred though he knew where Northstar's thoughts were headed.
"You know why not."
"Well, tell me anyway."
"Because every time we do something like that, it always leads to something more than just a backrub." He moved himself away from Bobby's reach, out of the grasp of his hands. He turned and sat with both feet on the floor.
"So what if it does?" Bobby asked innocently. "Then it will really help you relax." Upon seeing Northstar sigh markedly, Bobby pressed on. "Jean-Paul, you read the literature that Hank gave us. People can live for seven or eight or ten years---or more!---with this disease. Do you mean to tell me that we're **never** going to make love again?" Bobby kept his voice solid and steady but persistent.
He scoffed. Did Bobby not understand?? "Bobby, amour, don't you realize….if I infect you, then I will never **ever** forgive myself!" Northstar didn't try to hide the passion or the pain he felt over this prospect.
"Then you won't infect me!" Bobby asserted. "We can do it safely."
"Everything is just so simple with you, isn't it?" Northstar barked.
"And you don't need to make life more difficult than it already is," Bobby said, softness in his voice. He looked into his lover's eyes.
"Perhaps you are right," Northstar said quietly. Somehow Bobby's calmness and steadfastness were very reassuring. And something about Bobby standing firm was pleasing as well. "If we take precautions…." He let his voice trail off.
Bobby then gently pulled Northstar closer to him and kissed the side of his face. His hands started to caress Jean-Paul's body again, slowly and rhythmically as he nuzzled his lover's face with kisses. At some point, Northstar began to reciprocate, returning kisses and putting his hands under Bobby's shirt. Bobby felt his lover relax and surrender. His tongue found its way inside Northstar's mouth as his hands rubbed against thighs. Content and excited to be taking the lead, Bobby planted wet kisses down Jean-Paul's soft neck, evoking a moan. Bobby practically wanted to squeal with glee. He was so glad that Jean-Paul agreed to this, his heart dancing with joy at holding his lover like this.
Soon, Northstar's uniform was shed and Bobby was kissing a trail down towards his groin. Bobby knelt on the floor in front of him and began to use his lips and tongue.
Northstar stiffened and then sighed with the pleasure he felt. Slowly and languorously, Bobby licked and loved the tip of Northstar's cock. A few drops of precum presented themselves, and Northstar tried to draw back, but Bobby wouldn't let him. He circled his tongue around and around the head of the shaft. Northstar tried to relax as his hands reached down to rumple Bobby's hair. Before he knew it, Bobby had engulfed most of his cock and was moving his head up and down, contracting his throat muscles against it. Northstar moaned again. `Mon dieu, I am so weak!' he thought. `All my resolve slipped away so easily.' What Bobby was doing just felt so good that he couldn't resist.
A few moments passed, Northstar enjoying himself immensely but not allowing himself to get swept away. He mustered every ounce of self-control. "That's good, amour. I'm close to cuming now," Northstar whispered as he tenderly pushed Bobby's face away.
It was much sooner than usual but Bobby understood that Jean-Paul was going to be careful to not ejaculate inside his mouth. A good idea, Bobby knew. Watching Northstar then use his hand to pump himself, Bobby knew that he would miss swallowing his lover's cum. But he did enjoy the visual delight he was witnessing. Northstar spilled his cum on Bobby's shoulder as Bobby kissed and licked his abdomen. Moments later, Bobby reached to touch the stickiness, but Jean-Paul moved his hand away. "I know," Bobby said, quietly.
Northstar then gestured for Bobby to lay on his back on the bed. Bobby's pants were pulled down and Northstar kissed his way towards Bobby's midsection, ready to reciprocate for the man he loved. Somewhere along the line, Northstar realized something. `Whether I am to live for eight more years or eight more weeks, I damn well want to enjoy them!'
**************
"Man, I'm so glad we're heading back for that An'zhina place," Hector Rendoza said one day, sitting next to his friend Sam Guthrie on the bridge.
"Me too," Sam agreed. He shook his head. "You know, it's weird. Before we left, the Professor asked me what I expected my first mission as an X-man to be like. And I'd heard from Gambit and Beast and everyone all these exciting stories of things they did in the past. I never really expected that life as an X-man would mean sitting around on bridge duty and spending weeks in a starship with nothing happening." He looked from Hector back out towards the large viewscreen on the bridge, watching the endless array of black space and shining stars fly by.
"At least we can train again since the Danger Room's open again. Look at these muscles I'm getting." To punctuate his claim, Hector rolled up a shirt sleeve and flexed a muscle.
Sam smiled wryly. "I can see. I can see **easily** since your skin is see-through." He knew that Hector was ok with him making reference to his unusual appearance. The two young men had spent months ensconced in the attic at John and Elaine Grey's house and were able to say virtually anything to each other.
Hector glowed with the praise and didn't seem to mind his obvious peculiarity being called out at all. In fact, Sam had noticed that his friend seemed to have an air of confidence about him lately, an air which Sam felt couldn't be explained solely by Wraith's increase in fitness.
"You miss earth?" Wraith asked.
"Sure I do. I really miss my parents and sister. I even miss workin' in the mines. And I miss the girls too," Cannonball added.
"Girls? What's up, hombre? I thought you didn't have a chica back on earth."
"You mean a girlfriend? Well, I don't---not anymore. I mean, I have a few ex-girlfriends. I actually kinda miss one of `em." Sam went on to talk at length about Nancy, a non-mutant woman. High school sweethearts, Sam and Nancy had been together for about a year. Sam spoke fondly of her, without bitterness now as he himself had been the one to end it. He shook his head. "I sure miss having a girlfriend." Then, realizing that he'd talked a lot and Wraith had been quiet, he felt somewhat awkward. Obviously Wraith had no previous dating experience to talk about (nor was it likely he'd have any future experience either) and he surmised that Wraith had to be a bit jealous.
"What about Jubilee?" Hector asked. Upon seeing no response from Sam, he pressed. "She doesn't have a boyfriend. Looks like she'd want one too, I think." He added that last sentence in because, as both men know, so many of the women who lived on An'zhina had been horribly scarred from their experience with FOH and were not exactly eager to jump into the dating game. Jubilee, however, seemed to be mostly recovered from her ordeal.
"I do think she's awful cute. I never dated an Asian girl before, but she's real pretty. And she's fun to hang out with. But I dunno. She don't seem interested in me." Sam didn't want to admit that he was petrified of rejection and he despised making the first move. He'd been turned down once before and wasn't in a hurry to repeat that painful experience.
"If she was interested, you think you'd go out with her?"
"Sure I would," Sam shrugged. "I'll try anything once. Though it sure ain't gonna be like home where you can take a gal to dinner and a movie. I don't even know what you'd **do** on a date on board this ship. But man….it sure would be nice to kiss a girl again." And, he silently added, do other things, about which he had bragged earlier to Hector.
There was silence on the bridge for a few moments. Then Hector decided to do some bragging of his own. "Hey, Sam….guess what happened to me a while ago. I slept with Storm."
Wraith went on to relay, to a disbelieving Cannonball, the morning Storm that charged into his room and seduced him.
Sam listened to his friend, trying to keep from smirking. `Poor Hector,' he thought. `I really did make him jealous with all this talk about girls.' Sam had heard other guys in high school boast like Hector was now and he didn't believe half of it then either. `What is he smokin'? No way would Storm ever do that. 'Sides, she and Wolverine are together now. And if this really happened, why'd Hector wait so long to tell me `bout it?' Sam bit his lip to keep from making up a crazy story of Jean Grey seducing him (something he would **definitely** have welcomed.)
When Wraith was finished, Sam told him that he was happy for him and promptly changed the topic.
*************
Rogue had to admit that Gambit generally had a lot of good, creative ideas.
They were availing themselves of one of those ideas now. Rogue smiled, wondering why she suddenly felt self-conscious. `Well, 'course I feel self-conscious,' she said to herself. `I feel like I did when Remy and I first got together.' Her heart fluttered and her limbs felt like melted cheese. Remy always had an effect on her. And their plans for tonight helped bring back those feelings when she was first realizing how much she cared about him and first opening herself to the possibility of a relationship. She would never forget the combination of excitement and nervousness of those days.
Rogue took a breath and pressed the button to slide the door aside. She emerged from the small washroom and entered the main part of their quarters. As all rooms on board Freedom, it was compact and utilitarian, consisting of little more than a bed (which scarcely accommodated two people), closet, tiny dresser, nightstand, metal desk with matching chair, a plush reclining chair the couple had brought from An'zhina, and a mirror also from An'zhina. The married couple occasionally brought in a small card table and chairs, when they wanted to enjoy a meal together alone. When those extra pieces of furniture were brought in, it became nearly impossible to maneuver around the room without jostling against something.
Tonight the room was mostly dark, lit by a few candles which rested on the nightstand and desk. Rogue smiled as she padded to the bed and sat down on it. The darkness brought back warm memories; she used to insist on darkness, as the cover of the dark made everything so much easier for her during the beginning.
It later became something she and Remy had fought over because he loved **looking.** He loved using his other senses too; he loved feeling and tasting and touching and hearing…..but he really loved **looking.** Remy wanted to be able to look and see everything. A patient man, he had waited until Rogue had gotten comfortable with him and with the way their relationship had progressed. Eventually, Rogue had given in and permitted the lighting to be on.
At this point, that was all ancient history for them. But tonight they were reverting to the comfort of the darkness. It was Gambit's idea that tonight they start out making love as they once had, before the collars, before Rogue mastered her powers. Back when they couldn't touch each other without having something between them. And so that meant the only permissible light would be candlelight.
She groped for the communicator, thinking she had left it on the nightstand. When she realized that it was not there, she walked over to the desk and found it.
"I'm ready, Remy," she said. She was wearing a full-length body suit, which covered most of her skin. The soft flannel body stocking completely covered her arms and legs, hands and feet----truly, only her face and the upper part of her neck were exposed. The body suit, however, was skin-tight, accentuating every curve of her figure.
"Be right dere, chere," Gambit said.
Rogue smiled at the obvious glee in her husband's voice. Like a child being given a pile of birthday presents, he couldn't wait for what was to follow. She walked back to the bed, propped up a few pillows against the bedboard, and reclined against them, waiting.
The door to their quarters opened, and Rogue closed her eyes against the temporary and annoying brightness from the hallway. Gambit set a few items down on the desk and then walked past her, into the small bathroom. When he emerged, he was clad in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms.
Rogue's heart really started thumping at the sight of Remy, standing there in the semi-darkness. His stance suggested strength and confidence, something which had impressed Rogue from the start. Back when she thought it was ridiculous for them to date, to try to begin a relationship, Remy had acted supremely confident from the get-go that it would work out.
But it wasn't just Remy's self-assuredness that was causing Rogue's pulse to accelerate. It was **him**; yes, even after all these years together. The man was beautiful. Beautiful. His auburn hair being pulled back into a ponytail allowed the emphasis on this face. The well-chiseled cheekbones, strong chin, sensuous lips, and those incredibly unique and sexy eyes. As Rogue's gaze traveled downwards she could see, even in the semi-darkness, his amazing form----the shoulders and muscles and arms and abs that would've bested anything Michaelangelo ever sculpted.
What continued to astound her was the knowledge that **she** had a similar effect on **him.** Gambit, who had experienced so many different women in his lifetime, picked her above all others and wanted to be with her. Rogue was honored.
The combination of all those thoughts and feelings was intoxicating. Rogue sensed her cheeks start to burn. She brushed an arm across her chest and felt that her nipples had hardened.
Remy walked over towards the bed and reached for one of Rogue's hands. He held it for a moment, gazing into her eyes, and then kissed it through the soft fabric of the body suit. "Remy would be enchanted, chere, if you would spend the evening wit' me."
Rogue smiled sweetly, deciding she liked this game very much. "My pleasure, sugar."
She grasped his outstretched hand and slowly rose from the bed. Remy guided her over towards the bottle of wine and two wine glasses he had carried in. He poured a glass and handed it to her. "Why thank you, Sir," she smiled. Remy then poured himself a glass. They had brought the wine from An'zhina; it had not been illegally replicated on board Freedom. Despite the dilithium they had gathered from the planet, the supply was still not copious and everyone did their part in conservation.
In an ideal setting, Rogue knew, they would have a loveseat to cozy up in, but the reclining chair they brought from An'zhina would have to do for now. Remy gracefully seated himself upon it, and Rogue sat in his lap, careful to not spill her drink. They leisurely drank the wine and chatted about nothing in particular.
She was less careful now when it came to keeping her face away from Remy's. The couple had agreed to spend this evening paying homage to "the old days", before they were able to touch, but Rogue knew truly that she could relax. If a skin-to-skin touch happened tonight, it would merely go against the rules of "the game" they had agreed to but it thankfully would not put her husband's life in jeopardy.
But Remy played along very well, cautiously not caressing her face as he usually did. He touched her gently and lightly, running fingertips along arms, shoulders, and her back. He leisurely played with her hair too, knowing that was "safe." Rogue, in turn, touched Remy the way she knew he liked----with a stronger, firmer press.
Remy brought his lips to one of Rogue's ears, holding them tantalizingly close but just far enough apart. "Remy would like to make love to you tonight, chere," he whispered. Just as in the old days, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end now and she felt dizzied with excitement. "What do you say, ma chere?"
"Yes," she whispered, knowing she sounded as breathless as she felt. She also knew that Remy gained a great deal of pleasure over the fact that he had this effect on her.
They both rose from the chair, and Remy swiftly scooped her up into his arms. When they first got together, during their years at the mansion---which now seemed like an entire lifetime ago!---they used to do this as well. He would carry her to the bed. Their cramped quarters on board Freedom meant that the bed was only a step or two away from the chair, but they played along with this as best as they could.
And next thing she knew, Rogue was laying on the bed, on her back. As Remy murmured her praises---telling her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her----he stroked her body through the garment that encased her. The body stocking had been replicated on An'zhina and served its purpose perfectly, the thin material transmitting sensations well. `Still ain't nowhere near as good as the real thing,' Rogue thought. Making love this way on occasion, however, allowed the pair to realize what they had gained and how fortunate they truly were that Rogue had learned to master her powers.
Remy continued the expert work of his hands, running them along thighs, calves, hips, the sides of her torso. Rogue reveled in the pleasure she was receiving, aware that she was a very lucky woman. Although she'd been with no other man, she knew from talking with other women that she was fortunate indeed to have a man who took his time, savored every moment, and never was in a hurry.
When they'd first started out, she would routinely have to fight back the fears that welled up when another person touched her in such an intimate manner. Because of the abuse during her childhood, abuse which she'd buried deep inside, touch was a terrifying thing. But both she and Remy were fighters----though her manner of fighting was more direct and his more subtle. Remy's amazing patience had allowed her the space and time she needed to relax.
So on this evening, she eased into his touches naturally. He nipped at a shoulder and began cupping and stroking a breast through the cloth. He liked gently kneading the flesh. Rogue enjoyed that Remy was taking the lead tonight, too. She knew that he really loved it on the occasions when she took the reigns and became the more active partner during lovemaking---Rogue herself liked it too----but today she just wanted to enjoy his efforts. She likened Remy to an artist in the way he approached his lovemaking.
Rogue groaned deeply and Remy responded by increasing the pace. His fingers danced down towards her core and lightly stroked against the fabric covering that area as he kissed her breasts through the material. "Mmmmmmmm," Rogue sighed.
"You like dat, chere?" Remy whispered.
"You know I do," she responded. He continued to work his fingers exactly in the manner that she loved. Through the fabric, he touched her wet lips, traveled upwards to stroke against her clitoris, and occasionally traveled back downwards again. She started to move her hips against the touch. Remy's fingers were becoming wet even through the barrier of the cloth. She reached a hand around and caressed him as well----the back of his neck, his shoulders. Around and around he worked his fingers, bringing her little bud to the brink.
Rogue pressed herself against Remy and let out a yell as the sensations overtook her. He felt her spasm and smiled with pleasure. His hand, wrist, and forearms were all somewhat sore but to him it was worth it. When he felt his muscles getting tired, he simply pretended he was an Olympic athlete running the last leg of the race.
Rogue's instincts now commanded that she kiss Remy's sexy mouth but she knew the rules of the game they played tonight. She reached for a portion of the sheet, placed it over his lips, and kissed him through the cloth. Her eyes then traveled towards the silky pants he still wore and the very visible bulge that protruded.
They looked at each other and both grinned. "Okay, sugar. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll give you a little taste of down home Southern hospitality."
After Remy made his wishes known, Rogue scrambled to comply. She rose from the bed and slowly removed her garment. Remy sat up. Entranced at her alluring form, his eyes hungrily caressing her curves. Knowing that she was being watched like a hawk in the candlelight, Rogue made a show of cupping her bared breasts. She then turned towards the nightstand, bent over to give him a good view of her backside, and then withdrew a few items from the nightstand's drawer.
As Remy lay on his back, Rogue carefully pulled his pants down, his erect penis now proudly revealing itself. Just as she used to, Rogue put on a pair of plastic gloves and squirted lubricant all over her hands. She reached for his cock which was jerking with anticipation. Rogue then pumped him up and down, trying to keep her mind on the rules of the game they were playing. She so wanted to kiss his abdomen and rub his chest, play with his nipples as he enjoyed, and lick the head of his cock.
Remy tilted his head back against the pillow. Although he would obviously prefer to be inside of her, this game had its benefits too. He loved to be reminded of how far they truly had come together. Soon, however, his thoughts abandoned practical ideas and focussed on the sheer pleasure he was receiving. As his body shuddered its release, he called out Rogue's name.
"Sugar," Rogue began, in a sweet and quiet voice, moments later. "Can we end the game for tonight?" She had discarded her plastic gloves.
"Sure t'ing, chere," Gambit said, still reclining amidst the pillows. He was mellow and tired, and very relaxed. "But Remy a little tired now."
"That's okay. I just wanna snuggle with you."
"Den come here," he said, gesturing. She took her place beside him, wrapping her arms around him.
"This feels so much better," she said, resting her head near his and enjoying the scents of their lovemaking, the warmth of their bodies underneath the blankets.
Remy reached a hand to leisurely play with her hair. "Dat is one of the mos' beautiful sites," he said absentmindedly.
"My skunk-stripe?" she asked incredulously, knowing that's where his fingers were twirling.
They both giggled at the nickname given Rogue's streak of white hair. "Well, Remy did say it be **jus' one** of the mos' beautiful sites."
Her hands made their way to his shoulders and down towards his chest. "You're so beautiful, Remy. I know I'm the luckiest gal in the world."
They hadn't intended to, but the couple ended up making love again, this time without the restrictions they had placed upon themselves. It went without saying that it was supremely better this way, so neither said it. It was better for all the obvious reasons, as well as for one additional one.
The couple was trying to conceive a child.
They had made that decision a few days ago. Once the X-men had the dilithium on board and were warping towards An'zhina, Rogue and Gambit had talked again about children. "We don't know how long it might take for me to get pregnant," Rogue had said. "Moira told me she thinks it might take me a while, given that I'm so thin, and she said women without much body fat sometimes take longer."
Remy agreed, and he was most swayed by something that Jean Grey had once said. It was along the lines that when she and Scott had decided to start trying to get pregnant, they'd realized that they'd never have "normal" lives---or easy lives, for that matter----and if they waited for something like normalcy, they might never become parents.
The pair was in no particular hurry to conceive (which was one of the reasons they'd agreed to the game tonight) but they didn't wish to put it off any longer. Rogue's birth control pills sat gathering dust inside the cabinet of their bathroom.
************
TO BE CONTINUED
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