Disclaimer: Quick, someone find the license for Rogue and Gambit! What? What do you mean Marvel still has it? I thought we had arranged a trade, my dust bunnies for the rights to Stan Lee's characters. What do you mean, all I'm getting is a court summons. Stan Lee fell off his chair and cracked his rib laughing and is suing me for damages? Yeesh, some people are so touchy…

If you heard me speaking French, you would laugh. Really, you would, and it wouldn't matter if you knew it or not because I so very obviously don't. However, there is this fish who's name is Babel…

Chapter 6: Target Practice and Hitting on the Mark

Gambit studied the information on the computer in front of him with an intensity that he usually only reserved for preparing a heist. What he found was…not much. The information raised more questions than it answered.

The government document was disappointingly brief. All it did was write in confirmation that, yes, Rogue a high ranking member of FORCE had gone under cover and taken down the Hellfire Club. Yes, it had gotten a bit more violent than strictly necessary, but everything that had been done was done under the umbrella of FORCE's approval and there was to be no inquiry. Yes, FORCE apologizes for the inconvenience of several high ranking members of political society, but that was the price that they paid in becoming involved in organized crime.

The information that Emil had sent him from the Assassins was slightly more helpful. Apparently, the take down had been a bloody mess--but no one had been killed. This had caused the Assassins no small amount of irritation--who could do that much damage without killing? Why?

Apparently, Rogue could. But she didn't seem like de type to do somet'ing dis sloppy. She seemed more like she would want t' do it without a trace.

It surprised him how calmly he was taking the fact that Rogue was a government agent. Maybe it was because he had yet to consider the personal implications of that fact. It just fit so well with everything that had made her 'not normal,' the way she seemed hyper observant about everything, the way that she had been open to fighting, the way that she had fought, the hotel she stayed in…

She was a government agent.

And he was a thief.

There could only be one possible reason why she would be in contact with him. She wanted to take down the Guild.

There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen. The safest thing to do would be to cut out of town and take his vacation to Bermuda. He had always liked the tropics…

But she had never once approached him…not in the club, not in the park… Could the agency that she worked for be so confident that he would make the first move? No, there was no way anyone was that good. Or that careless.

But "FORCE" had enough authority to politely tell the CIA to take its inquiry and stuff it.

No, Rogue would never be that careless. She relied on control--he could see it every time he invaded her space. She was afraid to hurt him, to touch him…wasn't she?

How much of the woman that so intrigued him was real?

He had to find out.

No, no that was stupid. He wasn't a kid anymore, he didn't need this challenge of cracking this top-notch government agent, making this beautiful, skillful woman think that she had him, getting the untouchable eating out of his hand only to drop her in the dust, leave her thinking that she had played her best game only to find that she had lost everything to the Prince of Thieves…

Damn. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do it.

No, he wasn't feeling betrayed. He wasn't angry that Rogue was just using him for his position. He was just a player who didn't like being played. And he had to admit, he had been. He had been falling for her…her sad eyes, that closed and never let anyone see the pain…

She wasn't making up the pain. He knew that. He had felt it.

Suddenly, he was almost glad for it. After all, she had nearly made him hope.

But she never let anyone see her joy either. The beauty that she felt as she was walking along singing to the morning or dancing and forgetting herself to music.

Unless it was all a lie. Unless she never was any of dat. Unless it was all calculated just t' get t' me.

But how could dey have such accurate information on me wit'out de Guild knowing? I know I haven't ever been obvious enough t' get a good profile, an' no 'path woulda gotten t'rough me or m' family's shields wit'out at least Tante Mattie knowin'…

Sitting here staring at his computer was only sending him in circles. He needed to get out, clear his head. Remy grabbed his keys and headed to his motorcycle.

He drove around blindly, just enjoying the wind on his face and the feel of a powerful machine beneath him.

When the bike came to a stop he had to blink before he realized where he was: Rogue's hotel.

Remy scowled at the bike. He didn't want to go here, not until he had made up his mind about what to do. But apparently neither his bike or his body was listening to him at the moment, because he was off the bike and climbing up the fire escape on the building across from Rogue's window.

Her window was open and the drapes were drawn. She was lying on her bed with her eyes closed, breathing slowly.

Damn, she's beautiful, he growled. He let his eyes trace over the contours of her body one more time. Maybe the last time.

But there were still so many unanswered questions.

Who was she? What was FORCE? It was odd for him not to recognize the name of a secret government agency. He didn't like it.

He could learn as much from her as she hoped to learn from him.

Remy forced himself to review his memories of her analytically, from the moment that he saw her dancing in the club. What were the pluses and minus in trying to figure out how much of the woman lying peacefully in front of him was real?

He would have to be extra careful to never touch her--and though he had thought of several ways around her mutation already, he wasn't sure playing Rogue was worth the risk. He had seen first hand what her powers could do, if she referenced what she had learned from him when she slapped him…

But wait. Last night. When she had passed out after they had fought--No, LeBeau. Don't t'ink 'bout how she felt against ya, how smoothly ya moved toget'er like someone had choreographed ya. She's not'ing more dan a mark. A potential mark at dat. Ya can still walk away--he had touched her. How was that possible? Was it because she was unconscious? Or was it something else--more importantly, could he replicate it?

Showing her touch and leaving her would be the perfect payback for enticing him to hope.

And even if he couldn't do it skin on skin, he could warm her up enough to shatter her heart when he left her. Remy knew that her heart was beginning to be engaged--the way that she had reacted to him that morning was proof enough. All that he would have to do was turn up the charm, appear to be exactly what she never knew she always wanted, give the 'agent' in her just enough information to think that she was succeeding--then disappear.

That would be perfectly satisfying. It was along the lines of what he had planned to do in the first place, anyway. Except this time, he didn't just want to steal her heart and walk around inside her skin, finding out and appreciating who she was only to leave uncaring of the consequences--he would ensure that she would never recover from her encounter with the King of Hearts.

He ignored the twinge of pain and conscience he felt. De femme already carries so much pain. It's better just to leave. Don' need t' hurt her, she didn't know what she was doin' t' me--I can just walk away.

He watched as Rogue got up off of her bed and made her way to her suitcase, then to the bathroom. She was moving slowly, as if gravity was threatening to overcome her at any moment. He didn't need to extend his empathy towards her to see her pain and anger. He recognized it from the way that she moved. It hadn't been too long ago that he had been walking that way himself.

Fine den, he told his conscience, I won' break her heart deliberately, any more dan I deliberately break de heart of any ot'er femme I win and leave.

Rogue had changed in the bathroom. Her steps were a bit lighter now as she slipped on her sneakers and left her room.

Now where she goin'?

He wanted to follow her and find out. How had she gotten into this secret world of spies and criminals anyway?

Non, jus' walk away. Ya don' need dis.

What the heck was FORCE?

Ya can find out some ot'er way. Ya don' need t' get involved. Ya on vacation, remember?

Why had she gone against every pattern that he ever saw in her in the way that she took down the Hellfire Club?

T'ink Bermuda. De Caribbean. Beautiful girls in bikinis. All de rum ya can drink.

And he never was one to back away from a challenge. There was a reason why they called him Gambit.

He smirked and silently as a shadow descended to follow her at a distance. Who wanted a normal vacation anyway?

Acknowledge de risks and play de game. Ya always were one for high stakes. It's de best way t' play. An' dis one looks like loads of fun.

XXXXXXXX

She was lying on her bed after taming her psyches, her eyes closed and her hair splayed out in all directions. This, Rogue decided, was a Bad Day. Having had more than her share of Bad Days in the past, she felt she was somewhat of an expert on the subject. This might even be called a Very Bad Day, except no one had died and she had gotten the satisfaction of slamming Emma Frost into a wall. Yes, she felt very well qualified to make her decision: today was a Bad Day.

Rogue knew that she was faced with several very real and difficult problems. The biggest one she saw at the moment was that the day wasn't over yet. Bad Days had a nasty habit of getting worse once you realized that they were Bad Days and left them alone. No, steps definitely needed to be taken. The way she saw it, her options were either pour over all of the information that she had like a good little super spy and try to figure this whole mess out, which felt like a deliberate stretching out of the Bad Day, or she could go to the store and get a pint of Edy's Dreamery Chocolate Truffle ice cream, some chocolate covered pretzels, a pack of Riesens, and some milk, and wallow in chocolate until she was sick. Or, she could really treat herself and stuff all her problems into the back of her mind and…

Why not? It was still a few hours to sunset. She should have plenty of time to get there.

Rogue got out of bed and walked over to her suitcase, removed some items, and went into her bathroom to change, feeling strangely reluctant to go near her window and shut it. But she didn't question the feeling, it was probably just part of her Bad Day and she wasn't thinking about that anymore.

A few moments later, she came out covered in her baggy sweatshirt and loose pants with her hair up in a pony tail. She stared longingly at a pair of flip-flops, but decided to be practical and shoved on sneakers instead. Then, grabbing a hotel towel, she left the room.

At least the day hadn't been a total waste. She had gotten the keys to a jeep from FORCE's supplies. Carol didn't know that yet, but then she wouldn't since she had refused to talk to Rogue, and that was just too bad, wasn't it?

No, that's not the way ta do it, girl. Relax. Focus on the drive. Have some fun.

Technically, it was a two hour drive to the coast. Rogue made it in an hour and fifteen minutes.

Just as she had thought, the beach was deserted. Who would be at the beach near sunset in early September? No one but the Rogue.

Sure, she had grown up by The River, but it hadn't taken long for her to become equally addicted to the ocean. There was something about the sound of the waves on the shore that soothed her and drew her in. The sound spoke to her of longing and of loss, of a world out there that was bigger than she was. Sometimes she needed that reminder.

Rogue took off her shoes and held them casually in one hand before stepping on the sand. It was still warm from the day's sun--the sun itself was just starting to go down.

She let out a relieved sigh, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease. She had made it in time.

Rogue walked slowly to the boarder of wet and dry sand. She dropped her towel and her shoes on the ground and pulled off her sweatshirt, then her pants, revealing her simple black one-piece swimmers suit. She didn't have time or inclination to wear anything fancier--when she went near the water, she was always alone. And when she went into the water, it was to swim and she didn't want to be slowed down by straps falling off her shoulders.

A light breeze caressed her and she stood and watched the sun dip down into the ocean, admiring the rosy hues reflecting in the sky and water.

Rogue took a deep breath, breathing in the salt air. Smiling a little, she reached up one hand and removed her ponytail holder, shaking her hair down around her shoulders. She tilted her head back so that her long hair fell nearly to her waist. Then she shook her head from side to side, causing her curls to jump and caress her bare back.

That feels so soft, so good.

Then she lay down, her legs on the wet sand and her back on the dry scratchy sand. She let the ocean run over her and focused on feeling nothing but the waves and the sand.

She stayed there for a time, how long she didn't know.

Usually, this was enough. She could get lost in the sensation of the smooth salty water rushing over her skin and the contrasting scratchy-sharp touch of the sand on her back. Everything else would drift away as she closed her eyes and concentrated--simply allowing herself to feel.

But that wasn't happening today. All she could think about was Carol's betrayal, Bishop's secretiveness--why had he joined FORCE, anyway?--, Emma Frost, breathing, and of course him.

The dampness of her swimsuit only irritated her and the water and sand simply weren't enough.

Damn. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. But she wouldn't give into them, instead she smashed a fist into the oncoming wave.

There was no hope for it. It was time to initiate operation STRIP: "Seek Touch Relentlessly In (any) Place." She had to leave the Bad Day behind, she would not lose herself to pity.

Rogue deliberately scraped her back over the dry sand, relishing the torture its roughness provided against her sensitive skin, and slowly stood.

She lifted her hair away--partially damp and dry, shivering in the light breeze--and draped it over her shoulder. The wind hit her back and she relished the stinging sensation. Her hands found the clasp behind her neck and she began to unhook it when she froze. Something in her stomach clenched and her body began to prepare for a fight.

It ain't possible.

But everything in her was telling her that someone was watching.

She pitched her voice so that it would carry while remaining low and somewhat inviting, "Ya just gonna watch, or are ya gonna come out?"

XXXXXXXXXX

Following Rogue unnoticed took all of Remy's skill, and it was fun for that reason, not only because he had to be stealthy, but because his mark drove like an adrenaline junkie, switching lanes and handling curves with finesse and speed.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. He had had fun trailing her--not many a person could stretch the limits of his driving abilities. And this was a mere femme!

Wonder what she's like on a bike?

No, dat's not de way t' t'ink, he reprimanded himself as he stopped his bike well away from where Rogue had parked her jeep. Remember who she is, who she works for.

He had a feeling that not admiring Rogue was going to be harder than he thought. Well, dere ain't not'ing wrong wit' lookin'. Jus' so long as I keep m' head in de game.

Remy watched her as she shed her clothes and gasped at the vision before him. She was wearing a simple modest swimsuit. Her legs, back, and arms were bare. Remy knew that he was seeing what very few people had ever seen before. And he had to say that was a crying shame, a crime. A body that perfectly formed should be put on display. His eyes slowly traveled up her long, long, graceful legs and paid special attention to her thinly clad rear before tracing her perfectly sculpted yet divinely feminine back.

Merde, was all he could think. He clenched his hands into fists to restrain himself from walking over to her. Instead, he hid in the shadows.

As Rogue stood in her swimsuit and watched the sun set, Remy watched Rogue. The colors of a dying sun lit the sky in vivid reds, golds, and purples. The air around Rogue seemed especially tinged with radiance. The sun's rays caught on her hair and brought out the cinnamon highlights, tainting the white streaks red. Her skin--so smooth--was gleaming in the light of the sunset.

It's as if she's drawing de beauty and fire of it into herself… She even absorbs de beauty dat's around her.

He watched as she shook her hair down over her back, exposing the long smooth line of her throat and thrusting out her chest as her curls bounced along her skin.

Remy wasn't sure if he had ever been so turned on.

Rogue slowly lifted her head and began to walk towards the water.

To his surprise, she didn't go in to swim. Instead she lay down on the sandy beach, just teasing the edge of the surf, and let the waves wash over her.

What's she doin'? Why's she doin' dis?

He wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, all he knew was that he was hardly breathing as he watched her.

Suddenly, she raised her hand and crashed a fist down into an oncoming wave.

What now?

She stood up slowly, deliberately dragging her body against the sand. Her hands went behind her neck to the clasp of her suit.

He felt his breath catch. Dis is more dan even I hoped for.

She began to unbuckle it when suddenly, she froze.

"Ya just gonna watch, or are ya gonna come out?" she said.

Remy was surprised. He knew that she hadn't seen him. His shields protected him from telepathic detection. How…?

He stepped forward.

"How'd ya know I was here, cherie?"

"Ah didn't. Ah guessed."

She turned to face him.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"What are ya doin' here?" Rogue spoke first. Her voice was casual, showing only mild surprise.

Remy took out a cigarette, and lit it with his powers, subtly reminding her of 'all that they had shared.' "Could ask ya de same question, chere."

Her neutral expression morphed into a smirk. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Ah go on one date with ya an' ya're stalkin' me now? Ah didn't take ya for the desperate type."

He couldn't let that stand. "Mais, ya misunderstand Remy. He came to your hotel room t' see if ya were interested in a late dinner only t' see ya leavin'. He called out t' ya, but ya didn't hear him. So he followed ya here…" Remy trailed off at the skeptical look on Rogue's face. "It's more innocent den it seems," he finished somewhat lamely.

"An' so ya were just planning on standin' there watching meh strip?"

Remy shrugged, "Couldn't bring m'self t' stop such a belle show. Sure an' it would only improve de view. Not dat," and he moved to step very close to her, "it ain't wort' lookin' at now. 'Cause I tell ya true, it is. Don' know when I've ever seen anyt'ing so belle."

Rogue shuddered. Remy hoped it wasn't just from the cold…that really was doing wonderful things through her swimsuit.

"Don't stand so close ta me," she whispered, taking a precautionary step back.

"I'm covered," he said gesturing with his gloved hands to his trench coat. He stepped forward again.

"That don't mean ya can't still be hurt," her eyes narrowed and she stepped back.

"Mebbe being wit' y' is worth dat risk." He stepped even closer to her and reached out for her with his now fully gloved hands.

"Stop that!" she growled at him, evading his grasp. "Ya don't know what ya're doing. It's not just your risk. It's mah mind. Ah don't want ya in it."

Inwardly, Remy rejoiced. It seemed Rogue really was sincere in her desire not to absorb him. But why? It would be de best way t' get information…

"Ya sure it ain't too late for dat, cherie?" he dragged his leering gaze over her scantily clad form.

"Ya arrogant bastard!" she yelled. "Ya are insufferable! How do ya even breathe past that ego of yours! It's surely stuffed your brain so not a thought can get through, Ah'm shocked that it hasn't blocked your air passages!"

Rogue's eyes were flashing a deep entrancing green and her cheeks were flushed. She had moved her arms away from her chest and her hands flailed wildly emphasizing her agitation, causing her body to move with them.

Remy felt the objective part of his mind turn off--his ability to be cautious was completely gone. But that didn't bother him--after all, his ability to be cautious was completely gone.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes never stopping their observation of her form. "Ya look tres belle when ya're angry, chere."

Rogue gave him a blank look, "Does 'tres' mean three? All this French is makin' me curious about what ya're hidin'."

"Ah quelque chose dat que nous avons en commun. Remy a une langue curieuse. Il veut toujours t 'vont endroit qu'il met appartiennent." (1)

Rogue blushed and glared at him. "Didn't anyone ever tell ya it's rude ta talk ta someone in a language they don't understand?"

"It seems dat Remy has a lot t' learn. Will y' teach him, chere?" He stepped close to her and slid one gloved finger up her bare arm.

Rogue smiled sweetly, "Sorry, Swamp Rat, Ah don't think there's a course for the terminally rude."

"An' y' would know, wouldn't ya River Rat?" he snapped. He was not rude…

She looked smug that she had got him riled. "Ah would. Ah've been diagnosed as terminal long ago. The fact that Ah'm still alive has defied all expectations."

His eyes slid over her body again. "Remy's sure dat's true."

"Drop dead."

"Y' first."

Somehow they were less than a breath apart from each other, standing so close that they could feel each other's heat. They were locked in each other's gaze. Rogue was practically standing on tip-toe so she could meet him eye-to-eye, tension rippling through her body. Remy was equally tense, his hands forming unconscious fists at his sides. Suddenly they each became aware of just how close they were to each other.

Remy reached for her.

Rogue stumbled back.

"Ah told ya ta keep away." She quickly grabbed her sweatshirt and shoved it on.

Remy watched her. He was really beginning to hate that sweatshirt.

"Desole, chere," he said. "Remy can not keep away from y'." He was a little frightened at how close that was to being true.

Her eyes narrowed again, "An' why is that?"

"Ya fascinate me," he blurted. Remy nearly blushed when he realized that he hadn't planned that statement at all. Merde. I'm in it deep. Better play de hand ya're dealt, Gambit. With a stern mental shake--he found it much easier to think now that Rogue was wearing more clothes, though her long bare legs were still distracting--he made the best of his blunder. "I want t' know all about ya. What do ya like, what do ya dream about? What do ya do? What's your real name? Who are ya, Rogue?"

Rogue's mouth set into a grim line. "Look Remy, Ah…" She bit the inside of her lip and turned away from him, letting loose a frustrated breath.

She turned away from m' again. She's tryin' t' lock me out...but no lock has ever stood a chance wit' me.

"Don't ya want t' be wit' me too?" he said after a moment. Bet no one has ever pursued her for her before. And extending his empathy, he found a large amount of confusion, anger, and no short supply of misery.

"What Ah want doesn't really make a difference. All that matters is what Ah can do. An' Ah can't be with ya, Remy."

He stepped up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, "Ya won't know unless ya try."

Rogue snorted. She stepped away from his hand and towards her discarded clothes, slipping on her gloves and then her pants. Remy noticed the odd order and was saddened, for a moment. It was a telling movement on Rogue's part, and he could use what it showed him.

"Ya don't have t' keep y'self locked up and guarded all de time," he said, gesturing to her gloves. "Ya can let yourself be free, even when ot'er people are around. Ya don't have t' hide from me, Rogue."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze evenly and spoke calmly, "Can ya give me one good reason why Ah should trust ya?"

Remy blinked. He hadn't expected to have the tables turned on him like that. She's good. "Ya need t' trust someone, petite."

Rogue rolled her eyes, "Yes, oh wise one. An' Ah'm sure ya're listening ta your own advice. Tell ya what--ya tell me the truth about who ya are and what ya do, an' Ah vow by all that Ah've ever held dear Ah'll do the same."

He really hadn't expected that. Both her body language and his empathy confirmed the fact that Rogue was completely sincere. She had issued him a challenge--and this was a challenge that he was actually going to refuse. Because if he took it, the game was done, and he wasn't finished playing with her yet.

Rogue took his silence as her answer. "We all have our secrets, Remy. Ya can't just go up ta someone an' demand their trust just 'cause ya're there. Ya know that."

"Oui," he said regretfully, and scuffed a foot in the sand, playing up the 'puppy dog' angle. "Remy just wish dat ya would trust him. He wants t' know ya, belle."

Rogue sighed. Her shoulders were tense. She looks like she wants t' walk away, but she's intrigued at de same time…

She reached her hand up to her forehead and massaged her pressure points for a moment, then her hand dropped back down and she looked up at him. "Walk with me," she invited.

Remy slipped off his shoes and followed her. They walked along the water in the fading light, the waves teasing against their feet.

Normally Remy would have felt the need to fill in the silence. But there was something about just walking with her that made him feel…full. He didn't stop to analyze the feeling, he just watched her as they walked. For the first time since he had known her, she was walking with her head cast down. She avoided making eye contact with him.

What was de point of askin' me t' walk wit' her if she ain't gonna talk?

Somehow, the silence itself was a challenge to him. He was determined not to be the first one to break it.

After a little while, Rogue knelt down and picked something up from the sand. "Look. Isn't it beautiful?" It was the inside of a clam shell, the iridescent interior gleaming in the fading light.

He looked at her eyes, they were downcast, looking at the shell, completely entranced. A small smiled graced her lips. Dis girl be de one who took out de Hellfire Club? Then he remembered how she had fought him, how she was staying in the most mediocre hotel, how she had managed to find her way into the Devil's Dare on her first night in town…

"It's so fragile," she said. "And so harsh out the outside. Easy ta overlook. Some people would say that it's worthless. After all, there are thousands of them. But if ya look at it, if ya see it, and it brings ya joy then for that moment it's unique, it has a purpose."

Her fingers closed around the shell for a moment, and he thought she was going to break it. But instead, she simply let it slip through her fingers and drop back down onto the sand, one of many shells waiting to be smoothed over by the ocean into oblivion.

"Ah'm ready ta go back now," and without waiting for him to agree, she turned around and started walking back to her abandoned things.

Remy stared after her for a long moment before walking to catch up. Dat femme is a complete mystery.

XXXXXX

Rogue was washing the salt and sand off of her body in preparation for bed. She supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised that the Cajun had showed up. Murphy's law. Or damn coincidence. Either way, it figured that one of main problems had been trying to escape would find her at her get away.

He had made her feel again. She hated him for that. Rogue was certain that he wasn't actually interested. She was just a challenge to him. And now he was her damn responsibility. She couldn't get away from him and what he made her feel, no matter how much she wanted to.

She scrubbed herself harder.

If she got him to leave her alone, she would probably be cut out of the loop on this operation completely. And she couldn't afford that. She needed to find out what they were hiding.

Rogue had just stepped out of the shower when her cell phone rang. Now who could that be?

"Yeah?"

"Rogue?" it was Bishop. He was the only one who asked her to confirm her identity when calling her private cell phone. Gawd, she hated redundancies.

Great. One of mah favorite people. "The one and only."

"You sound chipper," he observed.

Ah'm a hell of a fine actress. "Aww, are ya callin' ta check up on me, Bishop? That's so sweet." If a sugary tone could be poison, Bishop would have been dead on the third word.

"Actually, I'm calling to tell you that Carol and I have discussed it and there has been a change in your assignment."

Careful. Why didn't they call me in ta tell me? Giving orders over a cell phone is dangerous… "Oh?"

"We want you to absorb him, we're worried we may be running out of time. The next time you see him, hold on long enough to get details about his life in the Guild and relating to any mutant encounters he may have had. Then report back for debriefing."

What? And completely blow the chance ta learn about this legitimately or place someone in this 'Guild' y'all are so worried about? This is wrong, wrong, wrong. They're not telling me everything. There's no way Ah can go along with this without knowin' more.

''Ah can't," Rogue spoke in a subdued voice, as if she was bemused.

"What do you mean you can't? This is Carol's direct order," he said.

"Ah realize that," she said, in that same small, subdued voice. "But Ah can't do it. Tonight he touched me…and nothing happened."

"What! What do you mean? How is that possible?" Bishop was not happy.

"Ah don't know." But Ah'll think of something convincing soon. "It's a good thing ya called, Ah was just about ta call Hank. Can ya patch me through?"

A moment's pause. "I'll go get him."

Even though there was no one there to see her, Rogue kept her expression schooled in the exact pose that she wanted to portray--bemused confusion. Facial expressions could add to tone of voice, Mystique had taught her that, and she did not want anyone becoming suspicious.

Meanwhile, her mind raced--if she could talk with Hank alone she might be able to explain that something was very, very rotten in the state of Denmark, but if not she needed something that would be plausible enough for him to back up her story…

For all their records, they hadn't had any confirmation about Remy's mutation until she had confirmed it herself. They only knew what she told them…

If Remy was able to charge up molecules, what would happen if the molecules around his body became charged? Magneto had managed to charge the air around him in order to block her absorption powers ever since Mystique had joined with him and warned him about her…it was just perfect that the one man in the world she could touch was a 70 year old psychopathic terrorist, but what could she say, she lived a charmed life…

"I have Beast here with me now, Rogue," Bishop said. And unless she was wrong, his voice had a slightly warning tone--what was he warning her of? And why hadn't Carol made this call? Oh, this was just so wrong, there was no way she was--

"I understand that you have a question for me, Rogue?" Hank's calm voice shook her out of her mental rant. She needed to pull this off just right.

"Yeah, Hank. Ah ran into Gambit tonight, an' he flirted with me a bit. When he reached out and brushed back some of mah hair, his hands came in contact with mah face--Ah think he was testing mah mutation. And when he touched me, all Ah felt was the warmth of his hand--no memories, no powers, nothin'. Ah was wonderin' if this could be part of his mutation? Like he builds up excess kinetic energy around his body like some sort of force field or somethin' that keeps me from being able ta absorb him?"

And Rogue shoots…

"Fascinating," Beast said. "This would appear to be similar to how Magneto created a charged field around him that prevented you absorbing him. I would like to study this phenomena further. But I see no logical reason why a mutant who can charge latent energy would not have excess energy around him, particularly if he was aroused in some fashion. It would appear that Gambit's mutation is keyed in with adrenaline, which his hardly uncommon."

She scores! Three points for the home team!

"So you can touch him?" Bishop growled.

"Ah guess so…" Rogue allowed a satisfied smirk to creep into her voice--as if she was the cat that ate the cream, finally able to touch and ready and willing to take advantage of it. If only. An' don't bother being happy for meh, please, Ah don't think Ah could take it.

"This is just perfect," he groused. "Don't let it go to your head, Rogue. He's the target. Have your fun, but remember it's temporary."

Rogue was very glad that this little conference was taking place over the phone. Otherwise Bishop would be missing a head. And she might have a hard time explaining that.

"I hardly think that such a warning is necessary," Hank said. "Rogue can handle herself and has proven so on far more numerous occasions than I can count."

Bless ya, Beast. If only Ah could talk with ya alone, make sure ya're not in on this too, ask ya to help me find out what "this" is…but Ah can't take that risk. Bishop won't even let ya talk with me over the phone, if Ah see ya out it might show mah suspicions…

"But do be careful, Rogue. I realize that you must view this as an incredible opportunity, but remember that the man is a scoundrel."

Enter the big brother.

"What's an incredible opportunity?" Carol's voice.

An' the over-protective, hiding-something-from-meh, sister.

"Rogue is unable to absorb Gambit," Bishop growled. "Instead, he's able to get close to her--to touch her."

Is it just me, or does he sound like a little kid sayin' "Ah told ya so?"

"Well isn't that interesting," Carol said in a flat tone of voice. "And just how are you going to handle this, Rogue?"

"I haven't had much of a chance ta think about it," she said honestly. Especially since Ah just made it up five minutes ago. Ya should know better than ta play games with me, Carol. After all, Ah was "trained by the best."

"It looks like we will have to meet about other methods of gaining the information we need," Bishop said.

"I suppose we will," Carol's voice was clipped, measured. Obviously hiding something. "Rogue, stay on the outside. Continue seeing Gambit. Act as if you had no other responsibilities but simply the joy of finally being able to touch someone. We don't want him getting suspicious. Lull him into a sense of complacency, and we'll contact you with the next move."

"Aren't ya gonna tell me what ya're plannin'?" It wouldn't do to abandon her character, even though Rogue knew that the answer would be no. But they didn't know that she knew that they were hiding from her. And she was going to keep it that way, for now.

"Of course," Carol lied. "We'll contact you as soon as we have a confirmed plan."

"Thank ya. Ya know Ah hate bein' left in the dark," she said, unable to leave off a warning. Please, Carol, ya know, ya know, that this isn't the way we agreed it would be. Ah thought Ah could trust ya…

"Of course not," Carol said briskly. "Oh, and Rogue?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Carol said, a decidedly wicked smirk in her voice.

"Ha, ha," Rogue said to the dial tone.

She clenched her teeth and threw her cell phone across the room. It clattered harmlessly onto her bed.

Great, now Ah'm lyin' ta mah own teammates. This is so wrong. What are they hidin'? Why is this happening? How did things get this bad?

Rogue glanced at the calendar, noting tomorrow's date. She groaned. Someday, someone will invent a working time machine. An' Ah'll go back in time an' ask Mr. Murphy a very important question: is it possible for his law ta fixate on one person? Can the entire universe bend ta make one person's personal life a living example in order ta prove itself in some sick twisted way? 'Cause Ah can offer plenty of evidence for that hypothesis.

She grimaced and stretched out her back. Then she grabbed all of Bishop's notes on this case and her laptop. She wasn't helpless, she was going to act. Rogue decided that she would stay up all night researching Remy LeBeau and the Thieves Guild and any and every possible connection with her teammates, and other known mutants.

She would figure out what they were hiding, and why, and then…

She flopped on her bed and starting pouring through Bishop's extensive notes on Remy's "alleged" heists.

If she was lucky and Murphy's law took a vacation, she would be able to stay up all night and sleep through most of tomorrow, missing the day completely.

Translation: "Ah, something that we have in common. Remy has a curious tongue. It always wants to go places it doesn't belong."

AN: Well, I don't have much to say about this chapter. Except--wow--the ocean scene got mushier than I expected. How'd that happen? Anyway, this is mostly build up. La la la, build build build. Hope it managed to keep your interest.
Favorite line: He was really beginning to hate that sweatshirt.
Reviews make me happy! Don't you want me to be happy?

Review Responses:

Ish:
Yes, I got a dun dun duhh! That's the kind of thing I was going for! Woo! I would tell you what happened to Rogue…but that would spoil the surprise…and then you'd want to kill certain characters before their appointed time…and without the bad/annoying people I would run out of story…so yeah, obviously I can't do that. But I'm glad you're intrigued. AND that you liked Emma's getting slammed…I had that written for weeks before I was able to use it…
I'm glad that you saw that they were getting sweet to each other--I loved the whole 'Remy being unknowingly protective' thing too. No, I can't let things be easy/normal for them…so yes… Sigh, yes enter the 'playing' carousel…but I'm trying to go at it a little differently--at least later. Very curious to see what you think… hope you enjoy!
Sotsumi cormbur:
Thank you for your review! And your correction--I forgot the 'r,' eep! I fixed it though, right after your review. Thanks a bunch for telling me! Hope you liked this bit too.
addtothenoise:
Thanks for your review! Yes, things are sticky for our pair. How will they ever sort this out? Will addtothenoise ever smash through the evil case of writers block? Tune in next time for… LOL, anyways, I totally understand writers block, just want you to know that I'm hoping you smash through it soon. I definitely think the name's a good un', nicely done. Hope you enjoyed this chapter too.
enchantedlight:
Thank you kindly for your review! Hope you enjoy this one too.
Roguechere
Yay! I'm glad you liked that part. I worked hard on it, and it felt real to me, so I was proud of it.
I'm not sure what part of the story you're talking about when you say that he was upset…if you're talking about the whole 'take it off' thing during the fight, he was just playing it cool--he was actually thrilled about it and he just wanted to give her fair warning. I'm sorry that was confusing! No, in this story Remy's always been pleasantly surprised about Rogue's reaction to his eyes…it's a Thing.
Oh, that is a good line. And then the way he laughs after it, and the way his wife just sort of nods and ignores him…yeah, good times, good times…
Kit:
Dang, man--you're a good guesser! But like the PR representative of some celebrity, I can neither confirm nor deny if your suspicions are correct, I will simply let the story speak for itself. (Don't want to spoil any surprise or nothin'…)
Once again, you picked out all the stuff I worked hard at, I'm glad you appreciated it:0) LOL, and your thirdish person in the review caused me great joy, so thank you again for reviewing and I hope that you like this bit too!
bored247 :
See--more! I won't abandon it! LOL, thanks for the pressure, I work better under it… Hope you enjoyed this bit and that maybe it answers some of your questions.
CloeyMarie:
Thank you so much for your lovely review! LOL, better than chocolate--wow. Well, I'm glad that the story enhanced your chocolate experience or visa-versa. Hope that you liked this chapter too. Thanks again for the review!
Cat2fat900:
Dude, I just want to say that I so loved your review. I was having a hard time working up the motivation for this chapter, because--well--I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted to happen in it. Then I would go and look at your review and it would make me happy and I'd be like, but I HAVE to update soon for Cat (btw, calling you Cat is OK with you, right? I noticed you signed CF so I was wondering if that was a subtle hint…)…So here ya go--not one of my best chapters but a chapter for you nonetheless.
So, yeah, thanks for wanting to beat on Bella, 'cause she's icky and I'm glad you liked Kitty and thanks for pointing out that line! I'm glad I put it in there, I almost thought--overkill--but then I decided that I liked it so I didn't care.
This isn't exactly Romy…sadly, we still have to wait for that…but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable silence, either, right? Romy is coming though, promise!
Wrapped in banana foil
Oh, Thank you, thank you very much! Don't worry, I think there are probably at least eight more chapters to go. Glad you liked the Gambit/Remy bit, and I'm very glad you're enjoying this story. Thank you so much for reviewing.
Spicy Sweet
LOL, thank you. Yah, Bella Donna--boo. I'm very glad that you loved this story. I hope you continue to.
Chica De Los Ojos Cafe
LOL, I'm not trying to confuse you! But I'm glad you're basking in the twists. :grin: Twists are fun, I like writing them. This is one of those "plot thickening" chapters, but I promise more twists in the future.
gamro
Yeah, I write long chapters :blush:. Just puttin' down what I see, ya know? Yes, glad you loved the Emma bashing! She quite deserved it. Hope you liked this bit too. Thanks for your review.
azycat:
Good, I want it to be addicting! Thank you for reviewing, keep it up! ;0)
Lyrit Liltrick
Indeed, there is a conspiracy afoot! (In fact: shush! There may be several!)
Hey, I'm not sure what The Decameron was written in, though I know that Boccaccio was Italian so I'm guessing Latin…
Yowsa, a Virgil course? Coolness. He writes good. ;0) Hope ya have fun.
WolvGambit Le Diable Blanc:
Thank you kindly, hope you enjoy this.