Chapter 7

"Bonsoir, Jean." Remy said as he opened the door to see the red headed woman's hand poised to knock on the door.

"Gambit," she nodded, a noticeable smirk on her face, "I need to talk to Ororo."

He bowed slightly and gestured towards the stairs, "Stormy will see you now."

"Cute." Ororo interrupted, "Go get dressed!"

He rushed off and Jean shut the door behind her. "You get a chance to talk to him?"

"About what?" Ororo asked casually as she grabbed her clothes off of the back of a chair.

Jean looked at her exasperated. "You very well know."

Ororo stepped behind a Japanese screen Logan had brought her from Japan years ago and flung her shirt over the edge as she changed, "I know something of what you're implying but no, I have not talked about 'that.' I prefer to do this the old fashioned way."

"You mean bat your eyelashes, giggle at his charms and hope to death he gives you his letter jacket?"

"No, by using what the Goddess has given me: making his eyeballs explode in his head, thereby rendering him helpless and submissive to my whims."

"Must be the Ororo special, I've never heard of that method…" Ororo stepped out from behind the screen and Jean had to do a double take. Ororo turned around to show off her new dress. It was rather simple, made from white cotton with brown flowers woven into the fabric with spaghetti straps and a multi tiered skirt that stopped just at mid thigh but on Ororo's figure, the dress became stunning.

"That's new isn't it?"

"The whole thing... How do I look?" Ororo placed one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, striking a model pose.

"Wow, 'Ro. Just… wow… I think I'm going to start calling you Legs!" she giggled. The white high heel sandals Storm wore added inches to her already luxuriously long, cinnamon legs, making them seem endless.

"That's the second time I've heard that today… I went to the spa and met a lovely makeup artist name Donovan. You should go see him- he now has a crush on Logan- you would have much to talk about." She sat down at her vanity and after putting in small gold earrings, started brushing her hair, her eyes resting on the photos wedged in the mirror. They were at a different angle than before.

Jean shook her head with a big grin on her face, "I'm not going to ask. Before I forget why I came up here, Betsy and I took Anna out for lunch and everything's good."

A white eyebrow rose, "I thought I made it clear-"

"It's not like we had a mafia don dinner with her, 'Ro. She actually criticized Braddock and I over our antics. But if anything, she seems least opposed."

Ororo placed two tortoise shell clips in, the shiny brown flecks contrasting beautifully with her flowing white mane. Satisfied, she turned to face Jean, her blue eyes pleading, "I appreciate your intentions Jean but please, PLEASE, I am begging you as a friend and a woman, do not interfere tonight. I just want to have a good time, whether or not anything happens. My love life's problems do not need to be solved in one day. I just want to enjoy the night for what I can."

"I'll pass that on." Jean said, interrupted by a honk from outside, "That's probably Scott and Rogue, I said I'd be down 5 minutes ago."

"Stormy- what's takin' so long?" Gambit called from the bottom of the stairs. Wasn't that how it always was? The woman shoos you off barking out the deadline but in the end is the one holding you up.

Both women looked at each other with big grins and Jean crossed her fingers. "Um, thanks for the, uh, earrings?" The red head blurted before running down the stairs past Gambit who looked at her oddly. Jean didn't wear earrings.

He tromped up the stairs and paused at the top, catching sight of Ororo putting finishing touches on herself in the mirror. Within 10 minutes, the woman had transformed into sex on legs. He found himself staring unconsciously at her legs, following them past the very short hemline of her skirt and resting on her shapely rear end as she stood up and turned her back to him.

"Could you zip me please? Jean left before I could get her help." She called innocently to him over her shoulder, her slender arms stretching behind her to lift her hair out of the way, noticing he was wearing faded blue jeans (the ones that accentuated his cute butt she thought), leather boots and a black t-shirt covered by his well worn leather motorcycle jacket.

"Uh, ah, sure." He snapped from his stupor and walked over to her, his heavy boots cutting through the dead silence. Red on black eyes stared intensely through auburn tendrils as his fingers gently touched her back before slowly sliding the zipper up.

The scent from his leather coat mixed with his cologne and cigarettes reached her nose and combined with his warm breath on her neck, she shivered slightly. Remy eyed her carefully and rested his hands on her hips, staring at her in the mirror and whispered, "Y' look good, Stormy. Who ya tryin' t' impress?"

"Trying? I think I already have." She cast a coy look and leaned back into him, resting her back on his chest. "And don't call me that. I'm assuming from your jacket that you intend on taking your motorcycle?"

"Oui. Fraid' you'll mess up yo' hair?" he asked as she headed towards the stairs and she flipped the lights out.

"It crossed my mind… I never said I would ride with you." Her voice took on a playful tone.

"Unless y' plannin' on flyin,' I t'ink everyone's left by now. An' besides, what femme would pass up de chance t' wrap herself around handsome ole' me?"

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"Yo' chariot awaits."

Once outside the mansion, it occurred to Ororo that she was wearing a skirt, which was far from choice attire for riding a motorcycle.

"What ya waitin' fo?" he asked from his seat.

"I am wearing a skirt."

"So?"

"I do not want to give the world a peep show."

"Stormy, Stormy, Stormy…" he tsked. "Jus' hang on close n' tight an' no one will get a peep show. Why would I want de world t' see dat? It's not fair t' me…"

She smacked his shoulder playfully for the nickname and the innuendo before she climbed on board; Ororo stood straddling the bike and paused before taking her seat behind him, catching him adjusting his mirror to where she was about to sit. "Mr. Lebeau, if you peek at my panties when I sit down…"

He readjusted the mirror and mock pouted as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hmph. Not dat I'd see any'ting, y' don't wear 'em." He started the bike, revving it to drown her response out and they took off.

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The ride to Harry's was too short for Ororo. She was tempted to ask Remy to just keep going so she could keep her arms wrapped around him and her face pressed against his back, the rumble of the bike below them and the fading sun above them.

She longed for the days they spent in New Orleans, when the enchanting city belonged to them and they knew it. The romantic fantasy of Bonnie and Clyde, living on their whims and impulses…

Remy helped her dismount from the motorcycle, himself noticing, with unexpected jealousy, the stares Ororo was garnering. Not a male head ignored the leggy African as she walked the distance to the front door. He wrapped a protective arm around her waist to dissuade any man that thought he had a chance and led her into the tavern to meet their friends.

Harry's Hideaway was a tavern, but was far from being the kind of seedy dive where you would need to worry about out of control drunks. The owner, Harry Morell, was a man proud of his bar, keeping it well maintained, weeded out the riff raff attracted to his type of business, and always willing to lend an ear to a client on the bend.

Over the years, he had established a solid patronage from Xavier's students, and despite knowing they were mutants, he could care less. To him, a man's worth was measured by his actions, not his tail or lack thereof. And never causing trouble, it was never an issue for him to assemble enough tables and chairs for their group.

"We were about to start scavenging the road for you two! What was the hold up?" Scott joked as Remy pulled one of two available chairs on the end of the table before taking his seat across from her.

"Y' know femmes, Cyke. 15 mo' minutes…. Every 15 minutes…" The men around the table laughed, despite the condescending glares from their significant others.

"We've already ordered a round of drinks, ah almost ordered ya a frozen Mai-Tai but decided y' might want something more like a Fuzzy Navel ," Rogue smiled from next to her.

"That is very thoughtful of you, Rogue... or should I say, Honey Nut Buster?" Herself stifling a laugh as she whispered the racy nickname, recalling Jean's bachelorette party; Ororo had chugged the frozen drink on the dare her mutant powers would not save her from a frozen headache. She had lost, but only on the third one downed and ended up in the Med-Lab treated for alcohol poisoning after passing out from leading a raid on the men's locker room. (see 'Bachelorette Party' hosted at Gambit and Storm Group).

Ororo searched the sea of faces around her. Towards the other end of the table, Hank, cleverly hidden with an image inducer, and Bobby were having a heated debate about Start Trek vs. Star Wars with Warren and Scott. Jean and Betsy were attempting to break their significant others away from the 'nerdy' conversation while Rogue and Wolverine tried to make small talk with the late arrivals.

The waiter arrived, distributing drinks and taking orders for appetizers.

"Is Kurt coming?" Ororo asked, plunging her straw into her drink and taking a generous sip.

Wolverine pulled his cigar out of his mouth, "No, since Chuck's out o' town, he said someone should stay home and supervise Jubilee- the kid got caught on the phone organizing teenage Armageddon." Wolverine growled as he kicked Gambit who was bending under the table.

"Cut it out, I dropped my napkin." His red eyes blazed as he rubbed his shin. "Y' wearin' steel toe boots or somet'tin?"

"Napkin can stay on the floor. Y' ain't gonna use it anyway." Logan glared, knowing exactly why the man was under the table.

In truth, Gambit had actually dropped his napkin but was not going to pass up the opportunity to verify Ororo's undergarment status.

Remy muttered a less than pleasant phrase in French, Ororo and Rogue casting amused glances at each other.

At 10 o'clock, karaoke began and so did the heavy drinking. Ororo, still stuck with the memories of the bachelorette party, called it quits after her fuzzy navel and stuck with soda. Rogue nursed her third margarita and Betsy was on her 5th. Most of the men just stuck to beer and daring each other to go up on stage and sing.

Somehow, Robert signed Hank up to sing 'She Blinded Me With Science' which Hank adamantly refused to sing unless Robert helped out. Warren jovially joined in taking over lead vocals as Bobby shrilly sang "she blinded me with science!" with Hank interrupting candidly, "Science!" and garnering an uproar from his comrades table at the ad lib, "Stars and Garters, Ms Sakomoto… you're BEAUTIFUL!"

This started a war of X-men signing up other X-men for songs they wouldn't be caught dead singing. Even Wolverine got up and with a smooth baritone, sang a rather amazing version of Frank Sinatra's "I Get a Kick Out of You." Complete with scotch in one hand a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

The waiter returned for more drink orders and Ororo insisted on having soda despite the odd teasing from Elizabeth, "Get the Long Island Iced tea! Long Island Ice Tea!"

"I'll have soda, thank you."

Cyclops descended the stage, receiving tons of jabs from his friends for not having to read the words to Phil Collins Genesis hit, "I Can't Dance" as well as imitating the robotic movements from the music video flawlessly.

"Anna Marie and… Elizabeth Braddock?" The DJ asked the crowd.

"Ah'm gonna kill you Jean!" Rogue threatened as she helped Elizabeth walk to the stage, the Red head looking proud of herself. "Ooo, Baby do you know what that's worth…" she started singing with her twangy southern accent and Elizabeth's slurred British lull joining in "Oooo Heaven is a playsh on earth…"

"YEAH!" several men shouted at the women as Elizabeth began sexing up her role with tossing her hair around and dancing provocatively towards Rogue, the southern woman struggling to stumble through the song without laughing.

Ororo gave Remy a mischievous smile and rose to head for the karaoke sign-up when Remy grabbed her wrist, "Where y' goin?" He had his suspicions and there was no way he would let her get him on stage.

"I recall someone telling me once they were a closet White Snake fan…" she smiled and began humming "Here I Go Again."

"If y' sign me up fo' dat I swear, y'll be de only one on de list de rest o' de night."

She rolled her eyes, "Come on, Remy. Have fun. Even Logan sang…"

"No use, 'Ro. Cajun's a coward."

"When I sing it sounds like Sid Vicious beltin' out 'My Way.'" Gambit said brushing a piece of hair from his eyes and lighting up a cigarette, noting the cringe on Wolverine's face from the idea and Ororo took her seat again, giving him a glance of cleavage as she leaned forward.

"I know you are lying Remy, I've heard you sing before, but I will respect your request."

"Merci." He nodded, watching as she turned to cheer her friends on in the final moments of the song. She had a beautiful smile. "Well, looks like de ladies are done an' de bar can take over de stage again."

"Next up is Ororo? Is Ororo out there?" the DJ asked the crowd. Surprise rushed through the weather goddess at the announcement of her name. That couldn't possibly be her, but what are the odds of another woman with her name in the crowd at Harry's?

"Remy, you rat!" she glared.

He held his hands up in surprise, "Non, I didn.' Promise." He was as bewildered as she was.

"Logan?" Wolverine shook his head in response.

"'Ro, you're up." Warren gestured to the stage with his beer.

"I…" Storm looked confused, searching the faces around her for a sign of whom had signed her name up for karaoke. Rogue gently pushed her out of her seat and before Ororo knew it, she was walking to the stage. Her heart was pounding; she has never sung in front of people, not willingly, and it appears that was not going to change tonight.

Once, Remy had caught her in her bedroom rocking out with Billy Joel as she excavated her closet for spring cleaning, but that about summed up her public singing experience.

It was the first week of April, the birds songs signifying winter's departure. Ororo decided it was time to bring out her spring clothes and retire her heavy winter garments. She'd asked Remy if he needed anything taken to the charities along with her old clothes to which he replied, "Ain' touched dat closet in t'ree years- I'm too scared to t'ink bout what dis Cajun might find in dere!"

"Nonsense. You're just lazy." She taunted to which he grinned, looking off to the side in a 'you-caught-me-but-I-won't-admit-it-in-a-million-years' expression.

In her attic loft, she flipped on her radio to make the time consuming task less lonely. It took a while to find a station playing songs she enjoyed, especially with all the commercials, and had decent reception but finally found one that she could tolerate. Having gone through her drawers and boxed up her extra clothes for the local charities, it was time to tackle the closet.

Just as she opened the closet doors, the 'Only the Good Die Young' came on the radio, inciting her to sprint across the room and turn the radio up full volume so she could sing along. She used to hate this song, until one day, in the mansion's garage after a severe lamenting to try and persuade Remy to change the radio station, he berated her.

Gambit peeked out from under his motorcycle, grease stains up to his elbows, and pointed out her distaste was most likely owed to the song being true to her life, which she vehemently denied.

It took no explaining once she truly listened to it, to know what he was talking about. Parallel to Joel's woman in question, always pious and following the book of Xavier in the X-Bible, that was, without question, very much Ororo. And Remy, most noted for his devil may care attitude, was dually noted for coaxing the wild side out of her every now and then.

Abandoning her project, she scrambled to her vanity and snatched her hairbrush, nearly dropping it in her haste. Work could wait, but for now, she wanted to rock out to her old theme song in the sanctuary of her room. Sparing no expense in emotion, she whipped her hair around wildly and sang at the top of her lungs, the star of her own concert.

"You say your mother told you all that I could give you was a repu-tay-shun," She belted into her hairbrush as her socks slid across the wood floor a la Tom Cruise in Risky Business, which quickly turned into tossing her hair behind her and shaking her rear to the beat, seducing her imaginary crowd. "Aww- She never cared for meeee, but did she ever say a prayer for me? Oh whoooah… whoah…" she froze and her voice trailed off as her eyes caught Remy's sparkling red ones.

In her zeal, she did not know he was listening until she turned around to see him standing on the stairs, box in hand, nothing but pure amusement on his face.

"How's de rest go, petite? C'mon…" he flashed his trademark smile.

She couldn't help but smile back, bringing the 'microphone' to her mouth, and with all the melodrama she could muster, finished the words now with the radio, "You know that only the good die young…"

"I t'ought y' hated dat song." He climbed the staircase, and dropped the box on the ground next to hers. "I foun' some stuff fo' ya t' take, by de way."

"I used to, until you made it a theme song of sorts."

"Bah, I just wanted y' t' shut up while I worked on my motorcycle. Y' wouldn't stop naggin' bout dat damn song. It is a good song…Me t'inks I Like yo' live p'formance best- De 'Piano Man' has nothin' on yo' figure." He winked.

"Indeed… Will you help me take these down?" She tossed the hair brush onto her bed and rested her hands on her hips.

"Careful, chère. Microphones are 'spensive."

"Well if people would stop sneaking in to the show without paying the cover charge, that would not be an issue."

"Hey, I knocked. Y' were t' busy playin' Gem n' de Holograms t' notice. Shoulda locked de door."

"I did."

He shrugged, "I like private shows."

"Boxes. Now."

"Yes'm."

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Once she got up to the DJ, she tried to explain that she wasn't singing but a microphone was thrust in her hand and she was waved onstage before a sea of expectant faces. It was madness! She didn't even know what she was supposed to sing! The title of the song flashed on the screen in front of her and she cringed, wishing she'd ordered that Long Island Iced Tea Betsy had insisted upon.

The bass line intro of the song began and Ororo shot icy looks at Betsy and Jean, the Red head talking to her husband, oblivious to Storm's gaze. However, Elizabeth Braddock looked as if she were about to die from laughter, giving herself away.

"I'm sorry, love. I couldn't resist. What's a night out without a little inside joke?" she cast Ororo's way.

With shaking hands, Ororo seethed and vowed that if she lived through this, she was personally going to see to it that Ramòn made an unexpected public appearance, probably impaled through Braddock's BMWs windshield. But only after she borrowed an anti-contamination suit from the med-lab, she was that damn angry. However, for now, she dedicated herself to giving the team the performance of her life.

"Let it never go unsaid that Ororo can take a joke," she thought over the thundering of her heart. Elizabeth may have started the joke but she would get the last laugh.

Billy Joel had nothing on her… and neither would Christina Amphlett.

The words on the screen flashed with the music, the countdown to show time… 3… 2… 1… Ororo took a deep breath and reaching into the depths of her soul, for the brave, take no prisoners part of her that she kept repressed since losing her Mohawk, she sang.

"I love myself

I want you to love me
When I´m feeling down
I want you above me…"

Most of the members of the X-team cheered Ororo on with cat calling, howls, giggling and all out gut busting laughter, most recognizing the risqué song from the intro anyway. Jean cast Betsy an icy glare to rival Ororo's, only to receive a million dollar smirk with no guilt whatsoever behind it. There was no question Psylocke was Ororo's friend, attempting to prod Ororo into admission, but her tactics leaved much to be desired. Shaking her head, she took to supporting her friend verbally with her team mates.

"I search myself
I want you to find me
I forget myself
I want you to remind me"

"Come on, Darlin'! Give us yer all!" Logan hollered. What the hell was in her white hair covered head? He shook his head at the brazenness Ororo was showing. Betsy was probably right, Ororo was a big girl but… "If she only knew…" The woman was in for a rude awakening some day, if the Cajun ever got off his ass, but for now he was going to enjoy the show, "Looky there, Gumbo. She's all but givin' it away, huh?" he laughed to a very stunned Remy, making sure no one noticed him smacking him on the back.

"I don't want anybody else
When I think about you
I touch myself
I don't want anybody else
Oh no, oh no, oh no"

"Oui." Remy hadn't heard the song before so had no problem matching the actions of his team mates, until she hit the chorus. He had to catch his jaw from dropping to the floor when the words proclaiming her self-love hit his ears. Now his only feelings that matched his team mates were he didn't know she could sing like that while the rest of him became absorbed in Ororo's performance onstage.

"You're the one who makes me come running
You're the sun who makes me shine

When you're around I'm always laughing
I want to make you mine"

Fueled by her friends and not lost on the idea of the delicious backhandedness of the lyrics, by the second stanza, Ororo had completely immersed herself into performer mode and began to playfully trail her fingers all over her body, across her stomach and gently lifted the hem of her skirt a few inches (which couldn't spare the length to begin with) as she stroked the inside of her mid thigh with the palm of her hand and outstretched fingers, staring Remy down as she did; delighted to see that devilish grin just for her.

"I close my eyes
And see you before me
Think I would die
If you were to ignore me"

After she eyed him, she quickly licked her top lip, like she always did when she concentrated- a subtle something he always found attractive about her- and broke eye contact with a coy smile, leaving him tantalized as her voice dropped to a husky, alto tone, dripping with wanting:

"A fool could see
Just how much I adore you

I get down on my knees,

I'd do anything for you…"

Gambit's head was a mess of thoughts, "Mon Dieu! Who signed Ororo up fo' dat song?" He was beginning to wonder what to make of the blue eyed, bronze skinned goddess on stage. Considering the previous night's events, her trying to act cool and reserved this morning, consenting to the game in the Danger Room, and now letting loose with that song on karaoke? The woman was perplexing to say the least, hiding her true nature behind a chimera of reserved regality. Something inside Remy Lebeau told him that was not a problem…

"I don't want… anybody else…"

Despite what was going on before her, and being completely privy to it, Rogue couldn't help being enjoying Ororo cutting loose. Just over a half hour ago, Anna had seen Elizabeth go up to the karaoke table and admitted she was curious as to what the Brit was up to, after having insisted she could not carry a tune and would not be caught dead on stage. She had also noticed the not so furtive looks Ororo cast Remy's way as she sang.

"When I think about you…I touch myself…"

Rogue looked at Remy staring at Ororo onstage, and saw the obvious that the other two women had pointed out to her earlier. Yet, she felt at peace and harbored no ill will towards either of her friends. They were ignorant as children with their attraction for each other. Something that had always been there, they were just too blind to see… However, it looked like the spark was fanning into a flame before her eyes and all over some ridiculously kinky song. She gave Ororo the thumbs up side, thinking, "Give him hell, Sugah."

"I want you. I don´t want anybody else. And when I think about you I touch myself…" Ororo closed her eyes and ran a hand through her platinum hair, rocking her hips as she breathed in sharply into the microphone, "Oo… oo… ooo… Aahhhh… I don't want, anybody else, when I think about you, I touch myself… I touch myself… I honestly do…."

The music faded and Ororo opened her eyes to the stunned barroom. After the brief pause, many clapped and whistled as she replaced the microphone and wandered offstage, relieved to be out of the spotlight and have gotten it out of her system.

"Whew! I dare say the room has raised several degrees…" The DJ teased, "Now, for our next song, we have Earl Watson- man, do you have a tough act to follow…"

"Ororo, you minx!" Betsy greeted her smugly before sipping her 6th margarita. "I didn't think you'd actually do it, the saucy subject matter and all."

"You seem disappointed I came through for you…" Ororo smiled.

"I think you did a great job Ororo, especially with what you were given to work with," Jean interjected, her green eyes again shot daggers to the haughty purple haired woman.

"It helps when you pull from real life, eh?" Betsy arched an eyebrow, not able to resist the tease and leaving the rest of the table members tense from the insinuation and Storm valiantly remained unphased.

Ororo's pride was draining fast from the behavior of Elizabeth's cruel remarks and anger was creeping in, her cheeks becoming hot.

"Storm, she's just a little sauced is all…" Jean insisted.

"I bloody am not!" Psylocke blurted.

"Betsy, cut it out. you're drunk." Logan said gruffly from across the table.

"I am not drunk. I am pleasantly intoxicated and I daresay, what did you think, Monsieur Lebeau?"

Red eyes glared at Elizabeth from behind the smoke of a slow burning cigarette. "I agree wit' Logan. I t'ink y' drunk."

She rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just fuck her already? Everyone here already knows how bad you want each other." Betsy regretted it as soon as it exited her mouth. And not because the hard, sobering slap she received from the cocoa woman she was taunting.

"How dare you Elizabeth Braddock!" Ororo hissed, ignoring the hard stares she was getting from other patrons of the bar. Her fists were clenched tight, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to remain centered and fought the urge to pulverize the arrogant woman before her. "Where do you get acting as my friend and then attempting to humiliate me! You vicious, manipulative, backstabbing, drunken whore!" she raged, a wind picking up outside from her anger.

"Sod off, Ororo. I did you a favor tonight!" she spat, nursing the sting in her cheek and ignoring the insult, it wasn't the first time she'd heard those words directed her way, even if not in that combination. She'd expected a rise from Ororo, but not to such a degree.

"I can do without your favors." Storm said coldly before turning on her heels and running out the door of the tavern.

"I'll go talk to her." Rogue scrambled from her chair after Ororo.

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"Ro! RO!"

Ororo turned to see Rogue running out of the tavern for her.

"Go away, Anna." She fumed, trying to take deep breaths of the cool night air. The moon was full and stars dotted the sky, illuminating the dusty gravel parking lot of Harry's Hideaway.

Rogue ignored her, "Try an' shake me. Storm, don't pay attention to Betsy."

"Being drunk is no excuse…" tears were forming in her eyes.

"No, perhaps it ain't but can't you see what she's tryin' to do? I admit, her idea may be, well, tacky- this comin' from me," She laughed nervously, "but she cares for you. She wants t' see ya happy and she knows who would do it- Lord only knows why she chose that song." Rogue wrinkled her nose, "But ya keep lettin' your damn pride get in the way and if you keep it up, you're going to lose out on your chance with a hell of a man. Ah'd feel better knowin' he's with you than that other woman he's supposedly got his eyes on anyhow."

Ororo looked at Rogue, the honesty in her green eyes and in her intent. She began to calm down, "I'm sorry for you having to be the one to tell me this."

"Ah admit, it is a bit weird pep talkin' a friend into goin' after mah ex, but… it seems wrong to dissuade it when y' seem so happy t'gether. Storm, look, when ah came back, ah was lookin' to breathe life in a dead horse. At first, ah thought you were shackin' up with Remy and lyin' t' my face about it."

"Oh Rogue, I am so sorry…"

"Quit apologizin'! Ah'm not finished. Jean and Betsy brought other ideas to mah attention that I wouldn't have seen on mah own and t' be honest, Ah'm jealous. Have you ever noticed the way Remy looks at you, girl? His eyes light up, his charm amps up double- which is nauseating at best if you're not the target; the way he talks and listens to you…" Rogue's eyes were beginning to brim with tears.

"After givin' him that performance tonight, if you do not tell him how you feel, I will beat the living shit out of you, Ororo Munroe."

Ororo laughed through her forming tears and hugged her friend tightly, "After that heartfelt admission, I think I would let you."

"Gawd, look at us, cryin' like somethin' on the Hallmark Channel." Anna sniffled. "Ya gonna come inside now?"

Ororo looked at the ground, "I do not think I can."

"Ah'll go tell Remy…"

"Don' bother." Gambit interrupted from the entrance of the tavern. "Ev'ryone's headin' out. Grabbed yo' purse, Stormy."

"It looks lovely with your jacket." She said weakly. Goddess, give me strength. She thought.

"Ah'm gonna hitch a ride back with Jean an' Scott," Anna waved to Ororo and turned to Remy giving him a stern look and mouthing, "Go!" as she tossed her head towards Ororo and retreated inside.

"Anxious t' head back?" he took her hand and helped her up on the bike. "S' only midnight."

"Being ready to go home does not mean being ready to sleep. Would you be opposed to a late night walk? I have a lot on my mind."

"Non. Any'ting fo' my Stormy." He kissed her hand, and took his place in front of her.

"Gambit…" she started to berate and then sighed as she pulled herself close to him, "Never mind."

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Longest. Chapter. EVER. (that I've written at least, I think). Would you believe this story is just a smidgen shorter than Fairy Tale Epic? Yikes!

OH MY POOR ELIZABETH BRADDOCK! Alas, I needed a martyr and she came through. I actually love Psylocke's character very much. I'm just sorry I abused her in this way. I'll have to make it up to her.

Next Chapter: Epilogue!