The whole mansion was affected by the spell. Throughout the day, truths were flying from people's mouths when they were asked direct questions, some hurtful, some not.
"Why are you being such a stick in the mud, Scott?" Jean asked her husband as she strode from their bedroom, trying to remain as calm as possible, though her anger was getting the better of her quickly.
Scott hurried out to catch up with her. "Because I don't want you doing something that could tempt you away from me!" he answered without pausing. Immediately, he stopped, blinking behind his specialized ruby quartz glasses. He never intended to tell Jean that, but when she asked, he couldn't stop himself. How strange...
Jean turned to look at him, infuriated. "What, you don't trust me now!" she shouted, her fists clenched at her side. "Is that it!"
"I trust you, Jean," Scott returned, "but you are attractive, and I know there are mutants out there with more powerful telepathy than you that could pull you away." His mouth clamped shut. Why was he telling her things he never intended to tell her but was telling her anyway?
It didn't help her anger any. "I'm perfectly capable to protecting myself against them, thank you," she mumbled, turning on her heel to head down the hallway again.
Scott wanted to follow her, stop her from doing whatever she would eventually do, but he couldn't. She knew she needed her space. Instead, Scott sighed, turned, and went into the bedroom to spend time alone and think until she decided she wanted to talk to him again. "This could be a long night."
Meanwhile...
Jean had turned the corner, and found Logan coming toward her. "Hey Red," he greeted. "I heard shouting, and I came to investigate. Everything okay?"
"No," Jean replied, having wanted to say yes. Inwardly, she wondered why she didn't. 'Strange,' she thought. "Scott's just being an asshole."
Logan smirked. "Well, that's ole One-Eye for ya," he returned. "Always got that perpetual stick up his ass." Jean cracked a smile, which only got Logan's mind whirling again. He knew Jean loved Scott, but he couldn't help but wonder if the redheaded telepath had wayward thoughts, possibly about him even. "Jean, ya ever think about other guys?"
Jean thought it was an absurd question, and was about to answer as such, but instead, she admitted, "Yes, I do." It caught both of them off-guard. Jean wished she could retract that, but it was in the open now. She sighed. "Why do you ask?"
Here, Logan wanted to lie, but the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop himself. "I was wondering if you thought about me in the 'let's find an empty room and have a blast' kinda way." As soon as it was said, Logan wanted to kick himself. Talk about being forward! "Th-that's not what I meant..." Yet it was. It was exactly what he wanted to say. Why didn't he stop himself!
"It's not?" asked Jean, an eyebrow raised.
"Okay, I did mean it that way." Dammit! He was contemplating turning and just walking away now, but then his pride got in the way. He wouldn't just 'walk away' from the woman he'd been wanting since the day he'd stepped foot in this mansion because he admitted the truth. Logan smirked again, then asked, "Well, do you think of me that way?"
Jean so wanted to answer 'no', then continue on her way to blow off some steam. Her mouth opened and worked before her brain could think, though. "Frequently." Instead of frowning when the question was answered, she smiled, and laughed at the look on Logan's face; one of a little boy getting the one toy he always wanted.
Logan's heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and Jean admitting how she thought about him was enough to 'start his engine'. A wide grin spread across his face, revealing his sharper-than-natural incisors. "Then what are we waitin' for?" he inquired, then grabbed Jean around the waist, hoisted her onto his shoulder, then ducked into a spare bedroom as the redhead continued to laugh, locking it behind himself.
Rogue hadn't seen Remy all day, and she was beginning to worry. The spell would almost be done come morning. It would be a shame to have cast it, and then have it turn out that this was one of those days Remy took off for a few days or weeks to be by himself.
"Where is he?" she wondered, sitting near a window in one of the downstairs living rooms. She'd been staring out at the night for a good half-hour now, and a couple of her teammates had teased her about it already. She ignored them.
A single headlight turned into the start of the long driveway of the mansion, and Rogue's heart leapt. As the light got closer, she grew more sure that it was Remy; the motorcycle veered off toward the garages, and in the light, Rogue saw his profile, one she'd learned by heart time and time again.
Immediately, she moved to the other side of the room, taking a seat that didn't look at the windows. She didn't want to appear desperate, especially not to Remy. She grabbed the television remote, and started flipping through channels nonchalantly. She was impatient. Rogue really wanted to talk to Remy before the spell wore off. What was taking him so long getting inside?
Remy walked down the hallway that led from the garage on one end of the mansion to the huge kitchen on the other. His head was full of thoughts, and most were about ways to go about things. With a sigh, he shook his head, his brown hair shifting around his face and shoulders. The long bike ride hadn't cleared his head as much as he wished it had.
Hearing footsteps, Rogue looked toward the hallway, and saw Remy start by. "Hi sugah," she called out lightly.
Remy paused before turning to look into the green eyes of the woman who managed to turn his world upside down every day. "Evenin', chere," he returned, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "Ain't it a bit late for you t'be up?"
Rogue glanced over at the digital clock on the VCR/DVD. It was past midnight. "Ah guess so," she answered, turning off the TV. "A'course, Ah can change mah habits sometimes, can't Ah?"
Remy blinked his red-on-black eyes a few times. "Yeah, suppose so," he answered. For a few strained moments, neither said anything, though both wanted to say so much. Finally, Remy blew out a breath, and asked, "I'm headin' for da kitchen. You want anyt'ing from-"
She cut him off by standing up, then headed past him to lead the way down there. "Ah can get whatevah myself, Remy," she stated. "Ya know that."
The mutant called Gambit simply followed the Southern belle, not really complaining; the view was great, as usual. Sometimes, when this lovely lady broke up with him, he stuck around long enough to watch her leave, and he'd have some motivation to try to make up with her.
They reached the kitchen, and Remy immediately headed for the fridge, needing food. He'd been riding around the entire day without stopping for a bite to eat. Rogue waited until Remy had gotten what he needed before going into the fridge to grab a soda.
She watched him inhale the three huge sandwiches he'd made for himself as she drank the can of Pepsi, wondering when to ask him. Rogue waited, though. She didn't want to appear too obvious too soon.
Remy didn't know why Rogue was so silent, but he assumed it was because they were, after all, officially over once again. He gulped his last bite as he wished it weren't so. Still, there was nothing he could do except try to make Rogue see he was willing to try anything to stay in her life. He took his plate to the sink, rinsed it off, then turned to her. "It's been a long day, petite," he told her. "Remy t'ink he jus' gonna head on up t'bed."
Rogue nodded. "Yeah, Ah guess Ah should be gettin' up there, too," she responded. "Ah'll walk ya up."
"Fine by me," he returned, and followed her toward the staircase.