Disclaimer: All characters belong to and are currently suffering under the hands of Marvel. Adopt an X-Man and save them from much needless angst now! Your X-Man needs you!

A/N: We've both been busy. In fact, the likelihood is that I'm going to be busy for the next couple of weeks or more depending on how things turn out, so I don't know when the next chapter will be out... Might be able to churn something out though. This is the only fun I get these days.-sigh- Just to say a big thanks for all the reviews you guys left. I just had to reply to some of them. Oniongurl - Hmmm. We wonder whose voice it was in the background too...;) And we'd just like to say, welcome to the crazy world of MnM, and thanks so much for all your input so far, girl:D ishandahalf - Muahahahaha. Doesn't Remy LeBeau just sound like a male stripper's name to you? If we didn't know any better, we'd think Remy LeBeau ain't his real name at all! Still, we just had to add that little joke in, glad you picked up on it, chere. ;) As for the 'vicious cycle' of Remy and Rogue's 'relationship' - it's going to be disrupted fairly soon, and lead onto more explosive events and revelations... Expect the unexpected with our fave couple! ;) Seven Sunningdale - Whoo, I still feel the need to bow down and say 'I'm not worthy!' ;) Thanks for reading, and more importantly, for reviewing. Yes... Emma and Jean interacting like the best of friends - who woulda thought it? ;) And about Monet being ultra-practical - you're right that's EXACTLY the way I envisioned her, glad you don't just see her as the 'enemy', because in a way, Remy does deserve her, and he does deserve the crap Rogue's dishing out to him. It's karma, as you say. And soon enough, it's going to get even crazier... Oo demiducky25 - Thanks so much for pointing out all the things you liked best about the chapter - it really helps us know what we're doing right. :) Yes, we can envision plenty of angst for Betsy and Warren, and not just including Emma either... :p "and what a FINE back it was I'm sure!" Girl, you had me cracking up there! XD I know I'd be thinking the same thing if I was Anna... Sweety8587- You know, I was thinking of doing a little list of all those rules together...Putting them at the end would be a great idea. Thanks, hun! 4rogue - All I can say is, you'll find out why Rogue's being so defensive soon enough. ;)

Anyways, I could go on forever, but then we wouldn't have a story. But thanks again to all those who've given their support, we appreciate it as always! Love yah muchly! And now on with the story! - Ludi x

-oOo-

Mix 'n' Match

(12) Back to Square One

It was midday when Betsy arrived back in her New York apartment, and once she'd gotten there she ran straight to her answer machine. She had received various phone calls, mostly from her friends and acquaintances, but none at all from Neal. Every message she expected to hear his deep, somehow comforting voice, but every time she was left disappointed. At last the tape ran to the end and she was left standing there, frowning in dismay and confusion. Just what had she done that was so wrong? Obviously it was over between them, but why couldn't he at least have told her so?

She sighed and stripped off her coat, allowing her disconcerted mind to wander over to Warren. They'd spent the entire plane trip chatting, and once they'd arrived at the airport they'd even shared the same cab back home. Warren had helped her load and unload her luggage, and even insisted he paid the cab fare. Somehow, she hadn't minded him seeing exactly where she lived. Not only did she find him very attractive, but she also found him completely comfortable to be around. Even more comfortable than Neal, she had to admit. He was smart and gentlemanly, and had a great sense of humor. Not to mention he was stunningly good-looking and she knew her mother would approve of him…

Betsy suddenly frowned. If Neal wasn't even going to give her the time of day anymore, then why bother with him? It was almost as if fate had pushed Warren her way, as someone who could understand and comfort her. She didn't need to seek him out as a potential serious partner… But at least he could be a friend to her, someone she could talk to without feeling she needed to be anyone but herself. Besides, she had nothing to be guilty about. She wasn't the one that had dumped her boyfriend without rhythm or rhyme, was she?

Just then, the phone began to ring and Betsy snatched it up, still hoping against hope that it was Neal.

"Yes?" she asked breathlessly.

"Betts!" It was Jean's voice, laced with its usual friendly exuberance. Betsy's heart calmed somewhat. Truth be told she was rather nervous of talking to Neal again. "Girl, I thought you were going to call us once you got back?"

"I was," Betsy replied. "Actually, I only arrived back just this minute."

"I see," Jean returned. "So how was it? Nothing too bad, I hope."

"Actually…" Betsy answered serenely, as she recalled the calming effect Warren had on her, "I had a lovely time."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. See, it was nothing to worry about at all, was it?"

"I suppose not."

Jean laughed. "Sometimes you and Rogue are way too paranoid. Speaking of, I was wondering whether you'd be up to having a get-together at her place this evening?"

"Sounds like fun. I'd love to," Betsy agreed. At least it'd take her mind off Neal…

"Great. Just remember to bring along some food and drink, okay? It's meant to be a surprise. Rogue hasn't been feeling herself since you left and I wanted to cheer her up."

"Sounds great to me. I could do with chilling out, actually."

Jean quickly caught her sober tone of voice. "Really? What's happened?"

"Neal," Betsy answered shortly with a sigh. "It's kind of a long story. I'll tell you on the way down to Rogue's place."

"All right." Jean's voice was faintly worried. "I guess we could all do with some time out. I'll pick you up at 6, okay?"

"Okay. See you later then."

Betsy hung up and looked round her empty living room. No – she simply refused to be sore over Neal. Reaching into her coat pocket, she brought out a slip of paper and stared down at it. There, written in neat calligraphy, was Warren's address and phone number. At first she'd felt reluctant to accept it, but now… Making up her mind, she quickly began to dial the number into her handset.

The phone only rang twice before it was answered.

"Betsy?" Warren's now familiar voice answered expectantly. He'd already typed her number into his address book while they'd been in the cab together, and she couldn't help smiling to hear his voice again.

"Hi, Warren," she replied, hearing the drone of a car engine in the background. "You still heading back home?"

"Yup," he replied. "The traffic's murder round here. You okay, Betts? We only just dropped you off."

"I'm fine," she assured him, feeling flustered as it finally sunk in what she was about to do. Come on Betsy, just ask him, you have nothing to feel guilty about! "Look, I was just wondering… Well, I'm kind of free this weekend and I have absolutely nothing to do but stare at my boring apartment all day long, and I was wondering… how about we go out to dinner on Saturday?"

She was expecting a lot of replies, but not the one she got. He simply burst into laughter.

"What?" she cried, not knowing whether to feel surprised or offended.

"Nothing," he replied, after his laughter had died down a bit. "Just…Well, I guess you just beat me to the punch, Betsy. I was going to ask you the exact same thing once I got home."

She relaxed, a smile instantly playing across her lips. "Does that mean a yes?"

"Yes. That's exactly what it means. How about I pick you up at 7 on Saturday?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Good. I'll meet you then." He paused and she could almost see the smile on his face. "Until then…I'll be counting the days. Au revoir, Betsy."

"Bye, Warren."

Betsy hung up, her smile widening. I'll be counting the days too, Warren. I'll be counting the days down too.

-oOo-

It was just another day at the L&L building, another day of intrigue and suspense that normally Remy LeBeau would have been straight at the heart of. But, much to the chagrin of all the ladies – from unit supervisors down to filing clerks – the man in question had hardly stepped a foot out of his office all day, and everyone was whispering about the mysterious letter he'd received the day before.

Little did they know.

Remy was chewing on an unlit cigarette as Peter Rasputin sat before him, waiting for him to say something about the project updates he'd sent him. The fact was, Remy wasn't really focusing on the notes at all. What was really distracting him was the fact that he could smell Anna Raven's light and sensual perfume all over them.

"So I was thinking," Peter continued to talk over Remy's head, "that if we could get Kitty to work on some of the composite rendering of some of the more difficult scenes of the advertisement, we'd be onto a real winner. Mr. LeBeau? Sir? Did you hear what I just said?"

Remy looked up sharply, his cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, his expression blank.

"Huh?" he said. Peter shifted, looking embarrassed.

"Sir, you're obviously distracted. Maybe this isn't the right time… I'll come back later."

He was about to take back the papers when Remy stopped him.

"Non, non, non… I'm sorry, Peter… I was jus' a bit confused… I thought Anna was supposed to be givin' me de updates today."

"Well, she was," Peter admitted. "But she said she had something else to do. A meeting with Mr. Beaubier, or something…"

"Oh." Remy hoped he hadn't sounded too obviously disappointed. He didn't doubt for a second that Anna's sudden enthusiasm to see Jean-Paul was really down to her enthusiasm for ignoring him. She t'inks I'm a bastard and she'd be about right, he thought miserably. I don't deserve her. S'better dis way.

Still, it didn't stop him from feeling he'd gotten a raw deal out of the whole thing. There she was, blithely ignoring him as if nothing had happened. Monet wasn't coming round anymore, Lila had finally found herself a real man, some idiot called Guido who ate a lot of beef and raw eggs from the sound of it, and all the other girls in the building… well, they were barely worth looking at, he was so disinterested in them since Anna Raven had shown up. And to top it all off, the only thing keeping him company these days was a treacherous wedding invitation from someone he'd rather forget.

Peter, being no simpleton, knew Remy definitely had other things on his mind; and considering the rumors going round, he even thought he had an inkling as to what they were about. So he picked up the papers quickly and backed off.

"I'll leave you, Mr. LeBeau," he said decidedly. "I'll come back tomorrow."

"Okay," Remy replied, still distracted as Peter closed the door quietly behind him. Finally left alone, he sprawled back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, sighing heavily, only to ruminate once more on that kiss – and the subsequent rejection.

"She don't want me," he murmured firmly to himself. "Yesterday was a mistake. I'm her boss and she's my marketin' assistant. It's never gon' work. So stop t'inkin' about her already, LeBeau!"

But for the first time in a long time, he knew it was going to be easier said than done.

-xXx-

Sheesh.

Ain't it ironic how all romances follow the same kind of formula? Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl encounter some seemingly insurmountable obstacle that keeps them apart. Boy and girl struggle to stay together, no matter what the odds. Usually, true love overcomes all and boy and girl end up marrying and living happily ever after.

It's all a load of old baloney, I think. Some relationships just get it right the first time round and for the rest of us old maids…well, sometimes they don't even get off the ground before they're over. But all this melodrama… God, sometimes it makes me wanna heave.

Still, that doesn't stop me from snuggling up on my sofa in my bathrobe and reading yet another Harlequin romance. Actually, I've read the same book twice before, and I'm only reading it again because the sex scenes in it are about as close to the real thing I'm ever gonna get at the rate my love life is going these days. Actually, that's not strictly true. After all I had kissed Remy LeBeau the other day, and to be honest, if the kiss had gone any further… Well, having sex with your boss, up on his desk no less, sounds like a 'Harlequin-eat-your-heart-out' moment to me.

My mind involuntarily wanders from the sex scene on the page to the moment of passion I'd shared with Remy that afternoon, and I find myself lost in the memory of his beguiling lips and caressing hands, that sexy crinkle in the corner of his mouth as he'd smiled at me…

Forget it, Anna, he's your boss, the little angel on my shoulder hisses peremptorily in my ear.

I sigh and put the book aside, feeling guilty. I sit and brood for a moment, knowing my mind should definitely be elsewhere and not on that arrogant Cajun and his phony seduction techniques.

Phony? Rogue, sugah, you're the one who started it!

Great, so now my angel's guilt-tripping me! I growl at myself and get up, frustrated. I hate to admit it's the truth – I'd been the one to kiss him, I was the one that had led him on. It doesn't make an ounce of sense. It just isn't like me to be so forward with a man I barely like. Unless I do like him…

Stop thinkin' about him!

She's right – I told him what happened between us meant nothing, didn't I? It's in the past, and it's never going to be in the future. I reluctantly focus my mind to the task at hand, the task I've been putting off for weeks now. Remy LeBeau's been a convenient distraction, but I know it's just not on anymore. This is something I simply can't put off any longer. I walk over to the phone and pick it up, looking at the note tacked onto my fridge. It's the telephone number to Caldecott County General Hospital. I stare at it, my hand hovering over the handset, ready to punch in the numbers. Just dial the damn number already, Rogue, and stop stallin'!

My finger presses the first number.

Knock, knock.

I set down the handset quickly, half annoyed and half relieved to have been interrupted. Grumbling under my breath, I make my way to the door and throw it open, ready to berate whoever's on the other side, only to find myself staring at Jean, Betsy and Emma, their arms laden with takeaways and other goodies.

"Surprise!" they chorus, when I reveal myself in all my glory. All I can do is stare.

"Wh-what are you guys doin' here!" I finally blab.

"What does it look like?" Emma retorts rather rudely. "Jean said you weren't feeling yourself, and since Betsy was back this morning, we thought we'd have an impromptu get-together – just to lighten your spirits. You could look a little bit more grateful, you know!"

I calm myself, feeling a little guilty. Trust the gals to always be thinking of me when I'm down.

"Ah'm sorry, Emma," I reply apologetically. "Ah'm just a bit surprised is all – Ah was just about t'…clean the kitchen. But Ah'm glad y'all came round. And Betsy! Where have yah been! Ah thought yah were comin' back yesterday!"

"I was," Betsy smiles as she hugs and kisses me on both cheeks. "But daddy extended the gala, lucky me."

"So how was it?" I ask, ushering everyone inside and shutting the door behind them, hoping the conversation will ease my mind off things. "Did your momma give yah any trouble?"

"You wanna bet?" Emma cuts in sarcastically, setting out some Chinese take-away on the table and getting out the chopsticks. "Our purple-haired ex-model here was actually so frightened of the old bat she had to call me on her cell-phone just to get some advice on how to get rid of her!"

"Shut up, Emma!" Betsy pulls a face at Emma before turning back to me. "Actually, mum wasn't so bad as I thought," she replies. "It turns out I had… other things to distract me."

"Other things?" I repeat expectantly, catching her coy tone of voice.

"Oh, you know, the usual thing," she answers with a slight smile. "Meeting up with old school-friends, catching up with Brian…"

"Personally, I smell the odious whiff of 'men' around you, Betts," Emma notes with a wicked grin. "Are you sure there wasn't something more than just family and friends on your agenda, my dear?"

"Don't be an idiot!" Betsy throws back – perhaps a little too defensively, or so I think. "Why does everything have to boil down to men with you!"

For some reason Emma seems more offended than usual at the throwaway remark she's often heard from us before. She practically bristles when she hears Betsy's jibe.

"Well excuse me, but it seems that every time we meet up all we seem to talk about is men," Emma snaps back. "I mean, hello, it isn't like we haven't got a life outside those worthless, good-for-nothing, despicable creatures already, is it! I, for one, am fed up even thinking about them! You want to know what I think? I think it's time you girls grew up!"

Surprised at Emma's outburst, Betsy and I stare first at her, then at each other. Emma gives an explosive snort and marches into the bathroom, refusing to explain herself any further and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Well!" Betsy proclaims, infuriated, her blue eyes flashing once an irate Emma is out of sight. "That was all a bit rich coming from the likes of her!"

"Ah'll say," I declare, crossing my arms and frowning heavily. "What reared up and bit her on the ass?"

"Carlos," Jean replies matter-of -factly, her mouth set in a heavy line as she continues laying out the food that Emma had left in disarray on the table. "You know, that fitness instructor she was seeing for a while? She caught him with another woman in her house. She won't tell me the details, so I'm guessing she's pretty cut up about it."

"Oops," Betsy mutters under her breath. "I knew she was feeling bad, but I didn't know it was something that bad."

"She'll get over it," Jean shrugs. "She is a grown woman, after all." She stands up and gives me an apologetic look. "The truth is, Rogue, we've all feeling a bit under the weather lately, and so I was thinking that maybe the best cure would be lots of junk food, booze and a good old chat."

"Oh no!" I exclaim in concern. "What's happened to you guys? Is the wedding off? Did Betsy have a row with Neal?"

"Well," Betsy replies morosely, "Neal and I did have a bit of a tiff before I left for England. I thought he'd call to patch things up, but no such luck. So I tried to call him, and still no answer. So…" she shrugged with a downcast slump of the shoulders, "I guess we're finished."

"Aw, Ah'm so sorry, Betts," I say, placing a soothing arm about her. "Of all the rotten bastards, not even havin' the decency t' tell yah it's over! Sugah, y'all are better of without him!"

"That's what I said," Jean nods, stony-eyed. "It's one thing to be dumped, it's another thing entirely not having been notified!"

"And you?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"Oh, it's nothing," she answers with her usual penchant for downplaying her own troubles. "Just a minor bust-up with Scott, nothing we can't handle."

"Are you sure?" I persist. She seems more downcast than usual, which isn't like her at all.

"Of course. You know nothing ever gets me down. Scott and I can always work things out. Besides, it's nothing compared to what you've been through, Anna. I know how upset you were the other day." She pauses and says in a lower voice. "You know, if you ever want to talk about things…"

"Ah know, Jean, and thanks," I assure her. "But Emma's right. It's time we forgot about guys once and for all! Ah don't know about y'all, but right now, all Ah want to enjoy mahself and have some fun!"

I smile and pick up the cheap cocktail bottle beside me.

"Pina colada, anyone?"

-oOo-

Betsy pushed open the door of Rogue's bathroom gingerly, only to find Emma sitting on the edge of the bathtub with a furious grimace on her face. Betsy knew full well that times such as these were not the best to tackle her man-eating friend, but since this was supposed to be a party for Rogue's benefit, it really wasn't fair of Emma to be sitting around and moping.

"I'm sorry, Emma," she apologized, shutting the door softly behind her just in case Emma did decide to make a scene. "I didn't know about you and Carlos… Jean just explained everything to me and I feel such an idiot…"

"Oh, don't apologize," Emma replied, still rather ungraciously but with a less frosty tone. "I'd just rather forget the whole sorry affair. Like I said, men are scurrilous bastards and I'd rather have nothing to do with them!"

"That's a bit unfair, don't you think?" Betsy protested. "After all, wasn't it your gardener who came and saved the day?" Emma gave her a piercing look and Betsy sighed. "Look, Jean didn't want to say anything, but I wanted to apologize to you so I asked her for the whole story. And you should count yourself lucky that Bobby Drake is such a kind and considerate guy, otherwise you'd probably be feeling ten times worse!"

"Oh, I suppose you're right!" Emma finally conceded, throwing her hands up in the air. "I suppose some men are worth all the endless hassle they give us. Although you would say that, since you're obviously so starry-eyed!"

Betsy stared at her, not knowing what to say since she'd obviously been caught out.

"Oh, come on!" Emma prodded her, a sly grin forming on her face. "I can sniff these things out from a mile away! So who is he? Come on, don't be shy!"

It took a moment for Betsy to find her voice. Just how did Emma always find out these things before anyone else did?

"Okay, okay!" she finally caved in, looking harassed. "Not that it's anything exciting. I just met this guy in England, but he lives in New York – actually not far from here – and he's gorgeous and smart and funny and kind and I think he likes me too. His name's Warren Worthington and we've planned to go out on…"

"Wait a minute," Emma cut her off mid-sentence and Betsy stopped, seeing a funny look cross her friend's face. "Say that name again."

"Warren Worthington," Betsy repeated, confused. "Why?"

Emma's eyes narrowed, and that famous vein in her temple began to twitch.

"You stay away from Warren Worthington," she commanded Betsy in a voice little boys would've run away in terror at. "Don't you step within a one meter radius of the guy, do you hear me? And whatever date you've planned, cancel it!"

"What…?" Betsy was utterly bewildered now. "Emma, what on earth are you…?"

"Betsy," Emma continued with an icy calmness. "The guy is a prick. A pompous, arrogant, devious and whimpering little rich-boy, who has not an ounce of respect for anyone, let alone the female species."

"But…" Betsy faltered, utterly confused as to how Emma should create a picture of someone so unlike the Warren she knew. "But Emma, how can you know all this?"

"From first-hand knowledge," Emma replied knowingly. "His happens to be the company I'm trying to create a merger with, and every step of the way he's been stalling and dodging, putting all sorts of obstacles in my way and treating me with nothing less than utter disrespect! I don't care what kind of a picture he's been painting for you Betsy, but I guarantee you, it's all lies. He's going to use you, and once you get to know him better, I warrant you'll finally get to see his true colors when he ends up treating you like dirt."

Betsy said nothing, her mind in a whirl. What Emma was saying just didn't match up to her impression of the handsome head of Worthington Inc., but after all, who was she to know the true facts? Emma obviously knew him better than she did, and if she had to choose between trusting one of her dearest friends and a man she barely knew, there was really no contest.

"I can't believe it," she finally spoke. "He seemed so nice… Do you really think he'd lie just to use me, Emma?"

"Believe me, I know what the man's capable of," Emma replied ominously. "He even neglected to phone me to tell me he was away on business – twice! We had arranged two very important meetings, and he set his lawyer on me instead! I can tell you I'd never felt so humiliated or threatened in all my life!"

Betsy was shocked to hear all this. It suddenly dawned on her that the business associate Warren had been talking about so humorously on the plane was Emma herself. He'd made light of it, treating it as a joke. Yet here was Emma, saying she'd been threatened by his lawyer! How like a dishonest and manipulative man to look upon his exploits as nothing more than a cheap laugh!

Betsy sank down beside Emma in a daze, her mind forming wild images of a devious and immoral businessman, someone who'd have his way with her and kick her to the curb when he was done. She wasn't to know that Emma, in her misplaced conceit and her anger over Carlos, had exaggerated just a little too much. As it was, Betsy could only take everything her friend said at face value.

"Like I said," Emma continued darkly, "stay away from him. I doubt he has respect for you, and I doubt very much his company has a proper respect for the environment either! Trust me, Betts – you're better off without him!"

-xXx-

It's a perfect setting for one of those girly get-togethers men so often find strange and intimidating.

The four of us are sitting in a ring in my darkened living-room, the TV set on low volume in the background, Bridget Jones flickering across the screen as we dig into our meals, sip our drinks, and gossip mostly about the crap in our lives. So far, it's been nearly an hour and we've managed to leave the subject of men well alone, especially since Emma agreed to come back only if we swore we wouldn't talk about them under pain of death.

Somehow, though, I should've known it wasn't going to last.

"So," Jean finally asks me, refilling everyone's glass as if she was warden of the drinks, "any news on that Remy LeBeau? Did you report him?"

I instantly freeze up inside. Of course, Jean doesn't know what happened yesterday, and she probably just brought up the subject because it was work-related rather than relationship-related. Still, a familiar sense of dread settles over me at the mentioning of his name.

"Remy LeBeau?" Betsy repeats before I can get a word in, instantly forgetting our promise to Emma. "What Remy LeBeau! Excuse me, but did I miss something while I was away?"

I look at Jean, then at Emma, who's suspiciously quiet about the subject. I can't help but pout a little at her apparent knowledge. Gee, word sure travels fast in these parts!

"He's mah boss," I explain, giving Jean a pointed look, who grins sheepishly and passes me an extra helping of chow mein by way of apology. "Ah've been havin' a bit of…trouble with him," I say, not really sure of how to put it.

"Trouble trouble or romantic trouble?" Betsy questions eagerly, her interest already sparked. Jesus, why does it have to be my love life that's always the center of attention?

"Ah'm not sure," I shrug, trying to make light of it. "Maybe a bit of both?"

"Ah, so now comes the admission that maybe romance does have a little part to play in this whole affair," Jean comments, her eyes glimmering. I frown at her, saying don't push it.

"Does this mean you have the hots for your boss?" Betsy cuts in enthusiastically. She sits back and breathes in through her teeth. "Rogue, I just don't know how you manage to play with fire all the time. You know what happened with Joe! He was your boss too. I would've thought…"

"Trust me, Ah know," I interrupt her firmly. "And that's kinda what Ah'm worried about."

"All's fair in love and war," Jean smirks. "You can't help it if the man you fancy just happens to be your boss. And what makes you say that romance has come into the equation anyhow? You seemed dead-set against it the other day."

I pause, wondering whether I should tell them or keep schtum. I hadn't intended to blab about my embarrassing faux pas at all, but I know now that whatever I say to dodge the situation, they're never going to believe me. They know me far too well.

"Ah kissed him," I finally confess in an undertone, averting my gaze, feeling stupid simply for feeling stupid. There's a silence. Everyone does a double take.

"What!" Emma practically screams, all of a sudden now firmly out of her anti-men funk. "Lips or tongues?" she demands voraciously. I glare at her.

"Emma…!"

"Ohmigod, you snogged him, didn't you! I can see it in your eyes!"

I blush. As if it wasn't enough that I'm berating myself about it, I have to get the third-degree from the girls as well.

"Rogue, you simply can't get away with this!" Emma insists. "I want details and I want them now! How? Where? Why?"

"Emma…" Jean speaks up warningly, but Emma waves her aside.

"Jean, since when has our Rogue kissed a man of her own will and volition?" She turns back to me. "It was of your own will, wasn't it?" she asks.

"Well, Ah… Yes, Ah s'ppose so." I'm blushing furiously now, confused that I'm even admitting it, let alone that I even actually committed the foul deed.

"Well then, that must mean that you must have some kind of feelings for the guy," Betsy reasons. "Don't you?"

I feel everyone's eyes on me, willing me to explain it to them when I can barely explain it to myself. A part of me fears relating the event to them, but whenever I replay it in my mind I can't deny that warm glow inside of me, as if he was still here with me, with his hands on my skin and his mouth on my mine… And it's a glow that should've gone by now, that should've been in the past if it was only for the sake of lust… But it isn't gone.

So is it something more?

"Ah…Ah don't know," I reply at last.

"Well, there must be some reason," Betts persists. "What's he like? What charms does he have to recommend?"

The charm of the Devil, I think wryly to myself. "Well, he definitely ain't like the guys Ah've dated before," I reply slowly. "He's Cajun (and hasthe accent to go with it!), tall, tanned…has this gorgeous auburn hair, and these exotic eyes that just make a gal go weak at the knees, like he's lookin' right inside yah soul. And his body…boy oh boy does that guy have a body…" Dammit! Now that I'm getting the chance, I realize just what a fine catch Remy LeBeau really is. Yeah, and what a fine example of male chauvinism too! "In short, gals – he's simply drop-dead gorgeous." Yup. A beautiful boy with a not-so-beautiful soul…

"Sounds like my kinda man, alright," Betsy remarks, blowing a lock of hair off her face and fanning herself. "Cajun! I love that accent!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Emma protests impatiently. "It's all well and good, but it still doesn't tell me how you ended up kissing the guy! And call me a nosy bitch, but I want to know, goddammit!"

"Ah just don't know how it happened, Emma," I reply honestly, spreading my hands hopelessly. "Just one moment we were in his office and he was readin' mah report, and the next…" I falter, my cheeks now so hot I feel dizzy, as if he'd left me in a fever. I swallow hard, refusing to look at the others. "Ah thought maybe Ah was feelin' sorry for him… He had this invitation, a weddin' invitation, and he looked so… so sad, because obviously he'd lost this woman and Ah knew how it felt to lose someone…" I pause and Jean slips an arm comfortingly round my shoulder before I continue. "…And somehow we just ended up kissin' and… …"

I trail off, and I must have a certain look in my eyes, because they all share knowing glances amongst themselves.

"Sounds to me like it wasn't just a mistake," Betts speaks up softly. "Sounds like your mind was trying to tell your body something, girl."

"Yah think it wasn't just lust?" I ask incredulously. It can't be true…

"What do you think?" Jean asks gently. I turn away, the color still in my cheeks.

"Alright," I admit. "Ah like the guy. Ah find him attractive and witty and smart… not to mention incredibly sexy. But anythin' more than that…" I shake my head vehemently, "Ah just can't see it happenin'. Besides which… the whole episode was a complete and utter mistake," I finish firmly.

"A mistake!" Emma repeats, outraged. "Rogue, when you take the initiative to kiss a man…!"

"Emma, he's mah boss," I interrupt quietly. "And even if there was a chance of us reconcilin' that, the guy's not interested in meh. He's a slut and Ah can guarantee he knows every woman in the company – personally. Ah'm just another conquest to him."

"But, couldn't that all be just hearsay?" Betsy asks desperately, and I know she's trying hard to make things right for me, for me to finally be happy. "I mean, after all, where there are good-looking men around, there'll always be jealous woman… What if he really likes you and people are spreading rumors to keep you away from him?"

"Fat chance," I reply with a wry smile. "Mah very first day at work, Ah caught him red-handed behind a filin' cabinet, makin' out with his secretary."

And if it hadn't been for her callin' when she did yesterday, things probably would've got a lot more than just 'steamy' b'tween us, I think, trying not to feel sore about it and remembering just how close he'd been to undressing me. It makes me wonder just how far we would've gone. It makes me wonder what would've happened if anyone had decided to walk in on us. Ugh! I guess I owe Miss. Lila Cheney something after all, even if only because she managed to preserve my honor. Pfft. Honor. Right. If I had a choice between keeping my reputation and spending one night with that insufferable man, I know which one I'd be choosing right now. And I hate myself for it.

"Besides, it's obvious, isn't it," I continue, reasoning to myself as much as to them. "He was obviously feeling put-out because this woman – whoever she is – had rejected him. And since Ah'm the first gal that comes along, Ah'm just the right thing to make him feel like he's a man again and hasn't lost his pathetic mojo after all." I shake my head dismally. "Ah just can't believe Ah fell for it."

Emma snorts and crosses her arms.

"He sounds like a real gem," she declares sarcastically. "I'm beginning to think Carlos wasn't so bad after all." She downs her cocktail ferociously. "I'll tell you one thing, Rogue – he'd better like you, and he'd better treat you right, otherwise he'll be hearing it from me."

"And your whip, I bet," Betsy adds slyly.

"The likelihood of that happening is virtually nil," I interject before they can start arguing. "I pretty much told him I wanted nothing more to do with him this afternoon. So it's over now. Finished, done for! And Ah haveta say, I'm glad!"

"Are you sure?" Jean asks quietly. She hasn't said much, but I can tell from her tone and expression that she's concerned. I put on a brave face and nod.

"Yup. So the search is still on, gals. Remy LeBeau is not the guy for me, and he never will be."

The girls look at one another, and I can read their doubtful looks from a mile away. But it ain't the fact that they're doubting my conviction that bothers me.

It's the fact that I'm doubting those convictions myself, without any help from them at all.

-oOo-

It'd been a long night, and Jean had just arrived home feeling tired but somewhat more cheerful. Just as she was fumbling with her keycard outside her apartment complex, she heard the sound of motorcycle engines coming to a stop behind her. Startled, she whirled round, only to find, to her amazement, that it was Logan getting off the bike and coming towards her.

"Logan!" she cried, almost dropping her keys. "What are you doing here! How did you know…?"

"I overheard you givin' your address t' the cab driver the other night," he explained, looking a bit embarrassed about it. "Looks like I caught yer just in time." She stared at him, confused and bewildered and not a little worried at his impromptu presence. He caught her look and hastened to reassure her. "Oh don't worry, Red, I ain't gonna try any funny stuff on you. I just… well, t' tell you the truth, I just wanted to apologize. You know, for makin' you feel unwelcome the other night."

Jean blinked, suddenly realizing that since she hadn't turned up at the Hideaway since that last night, he'd assumed she was angry with him – which was actually a long way from the truth…

"Logan…" she protested, but he held up his hands, stopping her.

"It's okay, I understand," he insisted. "And if you don't want to see me anymore, I respect that. You won't hear from me again. Just…" He stepped a little closer, and held out a worn slip of paper to her. "I came here to let you know… If there's anything you ever need, if you're ever in any trouble with anyone in this town… anyone… Just give me a call, okay?"

Jean looked down at the paper, speechless.

"Logan," she finally found her tongue, "this really isn't necessary…"

"Make this easy on me, Red. I'm still feelin' bad about the other night. This is the least I can do."

He turned then and went back to his bike, climbing on and revving up the engine as Jean stared after him in bewilderment. He fastened his helmet securely, pausing only to look back at her once.

"Take care, Jean," he said, and the next moment he had sped off.

-xXx-

To be continued...