And we're back! Mille grazie to Katt8 for the beta and idea-bouncing services, and also for her unparalleled nagging skills. Thanks to all of my kind reviewers, too – I write more when I think people are interested, and so you've been a big help.

A couple of formal author's notes – the rating has been bumped to R due to language, in case you didn't see that on your way in. Also, I think we can safely say that this is now an Evo-based AU.

Anyway, here it is. For those of you still playing along at home, a brief recap of what happened last time…

Storm, Logan, Scott, and Rogue were called out to help Spyke and the Morlocks with a new anti-mutant group, the Friends. Shortly after they arrived, the Friends attacked again, entering the tunnels for the first time. Spyke went to help the rest of the Morlocks, asking Rogue to transport a small group of Morlock children to a nearby safe house. En route, she realized they had been spotted, and went after the person who had seen her. It turned out that Dane had set the entire attack up, including bankrolling weapons and extra members for the Friends, as a way to draw her out into the open.

Meanwhile, Remy talked Kitty into telling him where Rogue had gone, and ended up bringing her and Kurt with him to New York. He went after Rogue, only to find her fighting on a rooftop with Dane. When he tried to help, Dane knocked Rogue over the edge and escaped, leaving Remy to help her to safety. They were snuggly. Remy said a little more than he meant to. And now, they've arrived home after their adventure. Enjoy.

Later, he tucked her in, settling the duvet across her shoulders. She sulked up at him, and tried to sit. "Ah'm not an invalid, Remy."

"A little rest gon' hurt, chere? Non." He brushed a lock of white out of her face. "Get some sleep."

"Ah slept on the jet," she grumbled. Just because she had jerked awake each time she drifted off didn't mean she hadn't slept. Remy looked at her dubiously, and Rogue quickly changed tactics.

"Don't you want to stay?" She turned her head and caught his gloved fingertip between her teeth. "Keep me company?"

With an effort, he stood and took a step back. "Don' tink dat be real restful," he said, his voice sounding strangled. "B'sides, feel funny crashin' here with Kitty in de nex' bed."

"I can stay in Amara's room," piped Kitty, sticking her head through the door. She wasn't eavesdropping, really; she just didn't want to interrupt.

Remy shook his head. "C'mon in, Kitty-cat." As she phased completely into the room, he turned to Rogue. "I come back later, check on you."

"Ah'm fine, Remy."

"Yeah. You are." He blew her a kiss. "Jus' a li'l rest." In a low voice, he told Kitty, "Don' leave de room. Stay right here. She has bad dreams, you send someone t'get me, but you stay right here. Comprens?"

Kitty nodded. "Thanks," she said softly. "I'm glad you were right."

"Me too." He slipped into the hallway. Food. He needed food. And maybe a few shots of bourbon. Anything to take his mind of the images of the day. Rogue, snarling up at Dane while he held a gun to her. Frantically trying to right herself as she vanished over the side of the roof. The whiteness of her knuckles as she clung to the broken trim. Pellets of mortar falling down eight long stories. "Maybe more'n a few," he muttered, heading downstairs.

He was digging through the refrigerator, assembling a plate of leftovers, when he sensed someone behind him.

"Rogue's asleep?" Logan asked without preamble.

"Will be soon. Kitty wit her." He piled slices of roast chicken on a plate and took out the container of mashed potatoes, setting it on the marble island.

"She hurtin'?" On the plane ride home, and later in the med room, Rogue had refused to absorb Logan. Ah earned these, she had told him with a weary pride. Let me have somethin' t'show for it.

"Henri gave her some pills," Remy said, spooning gravy over the entire plate.

Logan opened the refrigerator and pulled out a drumstick. "Good. You wanna tell me exactly what happened up there?"

Remy slid the plate into the microwave, set the timer. "Came in, saw Dane holdin' a gun on her. Tossed a card, and Rogue tried to take him. He kicked her over."

"Jesus." Logan ran a hand through his hair, the picture of Rogue dangling from the building vivid in his mind's eye. "Was it close?" he growled.

Remy hesitated a second too long.

"How close, Gumbo?" The growl intensified.

Remy pulled out a deck without realizing it and began to shuffle. "You saw de buildin'. Old brick, trim breakin' up. Close," he admitted. "She did good, kept it together. She's a scrapper."

"Damn straight." He bit into the drumstick more ferociously than Remy thought strictly necessary. "You pulled her back up." It wasn't a question.

"Las' I heard, flyin' not her power," Remy snapped. "'Course I did."

Leaning back against the counter, Logan studied him for a long moment. "Yeah. Thanks for that." He opened the refrigerator again, pulled out a bottle of beer. He winced reflexively when the professor's perfectly modulated voice sounded inside his head. Gentlemen, if you have a few moments to spare? My office, please.

Remy shook his head as if to clear it and pulled his plate out of the microwave, snagging a fork from a nearby drawer. "Hope he don' mind if I eat," he muttered, heading toward the door.

"Hey, Gumbo," called Logan.

Remy glanced back and caught the beer one-handed. He lifted an eyebrow at Logan, who shrugged.

"Just don't spill it, okay? Those carpets are a bitch to clean."

"Thank you both for coming." The professor glanced up from the tea he was fixing and handed the cup to Ororo. "I wanted to get your input on the day's events."

"We're trying to piece together what we can about Dane based on what happened in the tunnels," she added, sitting elegantly on the couch. "A profile, if you will."

Logan strode to the window, stared out into the night. "Dane's not the important part."

"What is?" Ororo asked.

"Whoever behind him," Remy answered, before Logan could speak. "Dane a contract player. He don' care bout Rogue, he jus' snatchin' her for someone else." He sat down on a chair and began to eat.

"You're right, of course," said the professor. "Both of you. Still, until we discover who hired Dane, it seems prudent to analyze his behavior and try to predict what his next move will be."

Remy said nothing, just took a swig of beer and a bite of chicken. Logan craned his neck for a better view of the water outside.

"This took planning," Ororo said eventually. "And patience – how was Dane to know that Rogue would go on today's mission?"

"I suspect he didn't," the professor mused. "He must have been prepared to continue the attacks until we sent the entire team."

"Took money, too," Logan said. "The Friends were small-time. To ramp up that fast, with those weapons, cost a boatload of cash, Chuck. Whoever hired Dane has deep pockets."

"True," replied Xavier. "The attacks intensified only a few days after the first abduction attempt."

"It's quite a risk," Ororo mused. "To knowingly take on the Morlocks and the X-Men, just to draw Rogue out."

"Stakes are high, you gonna take a big risk," Remy pointed out. "Y'play for keeps."

The professor inclined his head, acknowledging Remy's words.

"He needs her alive," said Logan, prowling the room. "He's said that, right?"

"Twice," Remy agreed.

"They want her powers," Ororo said.

"Not necessarily," said the professor. "Rogue is quite valuable as leverage, I'm afraid."

Remy straightened, put down his fork. "How?" he asked, fighting down a rising unease.

"She's a key member of the X-Men and one of my charges," the professor said wearily. "It's no secret that I would go to great lengths to secure her safety."

"You'd do that for all the kids," Logan said. "If that's the case, why single her out? Why not grab Jamie, or Amara? They'd put up less of a fight."

"Rogue's mutation has the potential to be singularly devastating, as we've learned with Apocalypse. Even against her will, the havoc she can wreak is tremendous. The need to direct those powers appropriately played a large part in my desire to recruit her."

"To steal her would be to possess both a weapon and a pawn," Ororo said softly.

"A pawn ain't real useful 'till de last row," Remy said.

The professor turned to him, surprised.

"What? I don't jus' play cards."

"So it would seem. Yes, a pawn has unlimited potential, used correctly."

"This is pointless," Logan snarled. "She's not a fuckin' chess piece, Chuck. Lay off the metaphor and let's figure out how to protect her."

"It is unlikely that Dane will strike again immediately," said Ororo. "He's demonstrated patience thus far."

Xavier nodded. "I concur. It seems doubtful that he would attempt a frontal attack."

"Don' know if he'd want to try anyway," said Remy. "She held her own wit' him today. Dane was lookin' pretty bad when I got there."

"He's gonna look worse when I track him down," said Logan, absently flexing his hands.

"Get in line, homme."

"Perhaps we could focus on the matter at hand," Ororo suggested. "How do we protect Rogue?"

The professor smiled just a little. "Oh, I'm certain she'll have some ideas about that herself." He turned to the door. "Come in, Rogue."

The door swung open, and a scowling Rogue appeared, clad in a t-shirt and pajama pants. She zipped up her sweatshirt as she entered. "Didn't anyone ever tell y'all it's rude to talk about someone when they're not in the room?"

Logan rumbled, "You're supposed to be in bed."

"Ah was. Now Ah'm not."

"Kitty was s'posed t'be watchin' you," said Remy, frowning.

She tilted her head, took in the scene before her. "You told Kitty to stay in the room, not me. You also said you were goin' to eat dinner."

Remy gestured to the plate in front of him, beer dangling from one hand. "Dinner," he said smugly. "Never said where I'd eat it."

"Sit down, Rogue," said Ororo, motioning to a spot next to her on the couch. "You must be exhausted."
"Ah'm fine," she said, but sat anyway. "What'd Ah miss?"

Remy leaned forward, glib excuse at the ready, but the professor merely smiled again. "We were discussing how best to go about protecting you from Dane, should he make another attempt."

"And he'll try again, kid." Logan spoke from the corner, watching her closely.

She nodded. "Ah know."

"We need to figure out who hired Dane," said Ororo. "It's the only way to guarantee your safety, Rogue. We've seen the lengths to which he will go."

"Hey, I'm all for trackin' down the man behind the curtain," said Logan. "But until we do that, you stay here."

Rogue's eyes narrowed. "Stay where, exactly?"

"At the mansion. I can protect you here."

Remy recognized the dangerous gleam in Rogue's eyes and leaned back, ready to enjoy the show.

"Ah can protect myself," she said, straightening. "Why the hell am Ah gettin' up at four-thirty in the damn mornin' if you think Ah can't?"

The professor cut in smoothly. "I think what Logan is trying to say is that we can control the situation here, Rogue. Away from the mansion, even with chaperones, the risk increases significantly."

"There's always a risk," she said, shaking her head. "Every time we go out on a mission, we're takin' a risk."

"Fille got a point," Remy drawled, dancing a bottle cap over his knuckles. "Chancy stuff ain't new to y'all."

Logan glared at Remy before turning back to Rogue. "This is different, kid. We go on missions 'cause we have to, not just for kicks."

"Dane is targeting you specifically, Rogue, and he has proven to be ruthless." Ororo laid her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Perhaps for the time being, it would be best if you did not leave the Institute."

"No missions," said Logan. He hated to say it, knew what he was taking away from her. But there was no way he would let her walk into a trap like that again. "He could try for another setup. And you stay on the grounds."

"That's not fair," Rogue said tightly. She was nearly vibrating with fury, but she kept her voice controlled and even. "Ah've done everything you've asked since this started, Professor. Ah've gone to all of my sessions with you and with Logan. Ah've kept up in my classes, come to dinner. Ah got those kids out and safe and Ah was holdin' my own with Dane. This is my reward?"

Xavier regarded her sympathetically. "I know how frustrating this must be, Rogue. Please remember that we are merely looking out for your best interests."

"There's gotta be another way," she pleaded. "Please, Professor. It's just not fair."

"What 'bout a compromise?" Remy offered. "Dane's always hit when she was alone. And he wants it quiet – dat why he drugged her de first time, got her up on de roof today. If she's got someone with her…"

"Like you?" Logan challenged.

"Like anyone," Remy said calmly, refusing to rise to the bait. The cap glinted between his fingers, quick and smooth. "If dey stay close, stay out in public, don' t'ink Dane gonna try somethin' dat bold."

"We cannot predict Dane's behavior at this point, but I think it is safe to assume that he is growing impatient," Xavier pointed out. He studied the teacup for a moment, then set it down. "For now, Rogue, I think a compromise is in order. You may leave the mansion to attend school. One of the staff will accompany you and the rest of the students, both coming and going. If you should want to leave the grounds for any other reason, you must first clear it with me—"

"—And me," growled Logan.

The professor merely continued, "and you must be accompanied by a senior staff member the entire time."

Rogue sat back on the couch. Remy caught her sullen glance across the room and gave her an encouraging one in turn. It was the best offer she would get, he was certain.

Xavier spoke again, regret obvious in his tone. "I must agree with Logan as regards your inclusion on missions, Rogue."

Her head whipped back towards the professor. "But –"

"Child," Ororo said quietly. "You handled yourself beautifully today. Without your assistance, those children could have been injured, or worse. Evan told me how very grateful he was for your presence."

Rogue ducked her head. "They were in danger because of me."

"No. They were in danger because of small-minded ignorance and bigotry. You are not responsible for the actions of the Friends, nor Dane's influence. But if we can avoid giving Dane the opportunity to strike against the team again, then we must."

"Ah get it," Rogue said softly, nodding. Then her voice hardened and her gaze swung up to Logan. "But Ah don't have t'like it."

Remy stood, tossing the bottle cap in the air and catching it without looking. "Enough f'now, hein? Let's get you tucked back in, chere."

A muscle jumped in Logan's jaw, but he stayed silent. Rogue turned to the professor. "Can Ah go?"

"Of course. We'll talk in the morning."

Remy placed his hand on the small of her back and steered her out. "Jus' settle down," he hissed in her ear as they rounded a corner. "You ain't gon' win any points pitchin' a fit."

"What are they gonna do? Ground me?" She blinked back angry tears.

"Dey tryin' t'keep you safe," he said mildly, reaching for the doorknob to her room. "Not such a bad idea."

"You're agreeing with them now?" She rounded on him, temper splintering. "Jesus, Remy! If Ah wanted a boy scout, Ah'd go chasin' after Scott again."

His eyes darkened and he slammed the door open. Kitty jumped, eyes round and startled. "Hey, you two. I was just going to go visit Amara for a little bit." She shut her laptop and stood up, nearly knocking her chair over in an attempt to escape.

"Kit, you don't need to leave," Rogue protested, shooting Remy a dirty look. "Swamp rat's not staying. Ah'm all talked out."

"De hell you are. Roof. Now." He took her arm and propelled her to the window.

She goggled at him. "In case you've forgotten," she said haughtily, jerking her arm away, "Ah've spent enough time on a roof for one day. Ah'm not goin back up there."

He studied her flushed, angry form. She had wrapped her arms tightly around herself, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. His fury and hurt dissolved in the face of her panic, but he kept his face skeptical. "Scared o'heights?" he asked.

Kitty perched on the corner of her bed and watched the pair, fascinated. Remy was good, no doubt about it. It was exactly the right button to push, as long as Rogue didn't snap and drain his powers until he passed out and shut up. She was tempted, just a little, to phase up through the ceiling and watch it all play out.

"Ah'm not scared," Rogue snapped. "But Ah'm not goin' up there."

"Makes sense," he said over his shoulder to Kitty. "She tol' you 'bout Dane?"

Kitty bobbed her head.

"De fille gon' be spooked a while yet, my guess."

"Ah'm not spooked!"

His voice oozed mock sympathy. "Course not, chere. You jus…tired. She sulkin', too," he added, turning to face Kitty. "Mus' be hard, livin' wit such a moody little river rat."

"I – I – manage," Kitty choked out, as Rogue's eyes glittered maliciously.

"Ah. Am. Not. Sulkin'."

"S'okay, Rogue. Every fille need time t'pout. Southern girls jus' need a li'l more." And wasn't that the truth, he thought wryly.

"Ah'm not sulkin' and Ah'm not scared. Get it through your thick Cajun skull, LeBeau. Ah just don't want to go up there with you."

"Prove it," he said.

"Prove what?"

"If you ain't scared, then go on up. I won't stay and bother you."

"You're botherin' me now."

He smiled lazily. "Prove you can do it, I leave you alone."

She clenched her fists convulsively and set her shoulders. "Fine." She threw the window open and stopped short, suddenly overwhelmed by the distance to the ground. One hand gripped the window frame, knuckles whitening.

Remy came up behind her and rested a hand on her waist. "Get back on de horse, chere."

"Screw you and your horse, swamp rat," she tossed back. Annoyance and pride trumped her fear, and she swung a leg out, clambered up.

Kitty tossed him the soft pink blanket at the foot of her bed. "It's chilly," she pointed out innocently when Remy looked askance at her. "See you later!" She phased through the door, anxious to tell Amara all the gory details.

He joined Rogue on the roof a moment later. She was sitting pressed against the chimney, knees to her chest, staring out at the water. She didn't move when he sat next to her.

"That's a stupid cliché," she said, keeping her eyes on the horizon.

"Cliché cause it's true."

"Still stupid."

"Yeah. Worked, though."

She snorted. "You think Ah didn't see what you were up to?"

"Non. You too busy bein' pissy 'bout Xavier's new rules."

"Talk about stupid."

"He's lookin' out f'you. Dey all are."

She didn't say anything, but she leaned across him to pick up the blanket he had brought. "Scoot forward," she instructed, and slung the pink chenille around his shoulders. Then she settled herself between his knees and leaned back into him. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the light scent of her shampoo.

"Nice night," he said. "Weather ain't too bad yet."

"It's comin', though. Where you gonna put the moves on me when it's too cold to come up here?"

"I'm a creative thinker. Figure somethin' out. B'sides, t'ink you puttin' de moves on me."

"You wish," she laughed. But she didn't move away, and he rubbed his hands lightly up and down her arms.

"So," she said finally. "What are we doin'?" When his hands stopped and tightened for a second, she laughed again. "About Dane."

"Oh. Dane. Right." He gave himself a mental shake and then shrugged. "Not lookin' much past tomorrow, chere. He'll try to hit you again. We make sure we ready."

"Yeah." She pressed herself closer against him, soaking up the warmth of his body through their clothing. Resting her cheek along the narrow ribs of his sweater, she smelled the lightest hint of tobacco, of spice and coffee and soap under it all. "Y'know," she said, "When Ah joined up with the X-Men, freezin' my ass off on the Blackbird and Logan sayin' I had to choose – Ah knew there wasn't ever gonna be a normal. We're mutants, right? Normal for us wouldn't really be normal."

"Kind o'de point o'bein' mutants, I guess," he said lightly, willing her to keep talking. Exhaustion, the blow of Xavier's new rules, the stress of coming back up on the roof – somehow the combination had cracked the wall Rogue used to keep him at bay, and he wanted to get through as many of the chinks as he could before she rebuilt.

"Still," she continued, "It might be nice, you know. Just for a little while. Plain ol' normal – no bad guys, no combat trainin', no savin' the world. Just normal – it might be nice."

"Normal ain't really my strong suit," he said apologetically. And that was putting it mildly. Most mutants developed their powers when they hit adolescence, but Remy's eyes had marked him as a mutant as soon as he was born, branded and burdened and betrayed him until normal was nothing but a bedtime story. Normal wouldn't sit well with him now, would ring as falsely as paying cash. The naked longing in her voice had him wondering, though.

"What would you do?" His voice was gentle. "If you could touch?"

"Ah'd go dancin," she said softly. "Ah'd go to the movies and share my popcorn with Kitty. Extra butter, too. Ah'd tickle Kurt, just to make him bamf. Ah'd get a tan. Ah'd play Marco Polo in the summer."

"You don't play Marco Polo?"

"Ah can't swim if there's anyone else in the pool."

He tightened his arms around her, but said nothing.

"Ah'd kiss you," she said quietly, intensely. "God, Ah'd kiss you forever, Remy."

Something in his throat constricted. "Long time, f'ever."

"You complainin'?" She turned carefully to face him, placing one foot on either side of his hips and resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Pas d'tout. Let's go out," he said abruptly.

She tore herself away from the image of Remy's mouth on hers. "We are out," she said absently, flipping a hand towards the blue-black sky.

"Out, Rogue. On a date. Like normal people."

She rolled her eyes. "Weren't you listenin' in there? Ah can't go out." Logan might be grateful enough to give Remy a beer from his personal stash – and she had noticed that, despite her anger at the time – but he wasn't so grateful that he'd okay dinner and a movie.

"You can't leave de grounds," he pointed out. "Not de same t'ing. You want t'be normal, chere, here's y'chance."

"Hangin' out up here ain't a date."

"Never said we'd come up here. Like it up here," he said, closing his hands on her hips and pulling her closer, "but it ain't what I had in mind. Say yes, 'less you scared."

She stared at him, too distracted by the warmth of his breath on her neck to get properly indignant.

"You put on a fancy dress. I pick you up. Dieu,chere. We ain't negotiatin' peace in de Middle East. It's a date."

"A fancy dress?" she echoed, dumbfounded.

"Oui," he said.

"Ah…Ah guess," she stuttered.

"Y'could be a little more enthusiastic, chere."

She grinned despite herself. "Savin that for the end of the date, sugar." She tried to give him a sultry look, but spoiled the effect by yawning widely.

"C'mon," he said. "We ain't sleepin' out here." He ran his hands lightly over her arms one last time. Even knowing what her skin could do, he couldn't resist touching her – the casual arm around her waist, the light brush of lips against her hair or shoulder, the slow, deliberate slide of his hand up the long, lean muscle of her thigh. He wanted to sink into her, to bury himself in her, to absorb her the way she had absorbed him, and the very thought had him scrambling back. "It's late," he said, neatly cutting off her protest. "Y'need t'sleep. C'mon," he repeated, standing and helping her up. "I'll stay a li'l longer."

There was something unreadable in her eyes when she looked up at him. "Promise?"

"Jus' did."

Logan didn't take his eyes from the amber rectangle of Rogue's window when Ororo approached.

"Save it."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say." She studied Logan's profile. The anger was there, she thought, hovering over everything like the fog that had encroached upon the mansion's grounds. But something else was coiled underneath it. "It worries you, their relationship."

"So?"

"She cares for him."

"She's a kid."

"Perhaps. But she cares for him, Logan, and he makes her happy."

"He's gonna break her heart. She'll get hurt."

She watched as Rogue carefully lowered herself to the window, Remy keeping a light hold on her wrist until she was safely inside. "Quite probably."

"And you're okay with that?" He bit off the end of a fresh cigar, spat it on the ground.

She kept her eyes on light from Rogue's room, speaking again after it had darkened. "What would you do, Logan? Would you deny her happiness to keep her from grief?"

He was silent, staring at the now-black window. He didn't know the answer, he discovered, and the realization jarred him. "I should have seen it comin'. I should have known it was a trap."

"I was the mission leader," she said mildly. "I had studied the pattern of the attacks, and still failed to make the connection. If anyone is to blame, Logan," she began.

He cut her off. "It's not the same. I should have seen it," he repeated. "She could've—"

"She didn't. Let that be enough for now."

Logan didn't answer, merely stared at the window with his jaw set. Ororo watched him wordlessly, and finally returned to the mansion alone.

Remy watched her drift off, one arm crooked under her head, the other grasping his sweater lightly. The streak in her hair gleamed silver, and he pulled back the fingertips of his glove to brush it back from her face, entranced by the feel of the strands against his skin. At the curve of her jaw was a livid bruise, and for a moment, his fingers hovered over it, anger spurting through him.

Rogue stirred and pressed closer against him. "Remy?"

His words, rough with delayed fear and anger, smoothed in an instant. "I'm here. Gonna have t'go in a li'l bit."

He could feel her nod against his chest. A few minutes passed, and her voice floated up, thick and sleepy. "Remy?"

"Still here," he said, smiling into her hair.

"Y'ever been in love before?"

The smile died on his face and he went still. She was drifting off again before he answered.

"Tried, once. Didn't really take."

"What d'y'mean?" She tilted her head back to see him better, but she was struggling against the fatigue of the day, and her eyes fluttered closed against her will.

"I couldn't. Don' know why, really. Would've made everyt'ing easy," he said softly. "Wasn't any reason not t'be in love wit her, an' lots o'reasons I should've. I jus'…couldn't," he said, the worn-down sensation of helplessness swallowing him again in an instant.

"Why? Why not?" This was important, she thought dimly. And yet she couldn't make herself wake up fully, couldn't pull herself up through the layers of sleep to get a better read on him.

"Don' know, 'xactly. Guess it scared me."

"So y'left?" There was no blame in her voice, so low and dusky that he wanted to wrap it around himself like a blanket.

"I left." He gave a bitter half-smile at all that short sentence didn't tell. "I was a kid. Got scared, Rogue."

"Ah think it's s'posed t'be a little scary," she murmured. "Lovin' someone."

He touched her hair again, closed his eyes briefly. "Mebbe. Mebbe de trick is not t'run."

She gave a small noise of assent, and her breathing slowed.

"How 'bout you?" he asked.

The corner of her mouth curved, and she said drowsily, "Not sure. Ah'll let you know how it turns out, though."

"Much obliged, chere," he said, and watched as her hand loosened on his sweater, dropping down to the sheet between them. Carefully, he disentangled arms and legs, and listened to the creaking and settling of the mansion around him. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, eyes like coals in the dark. "Not runnin' now," he said, faintly defensive. There was no reply, from his reflection or from Rogue.

He let himself out.

Dane shifted uncomfortably on the warehouse's cement floor. The man opposite him sat at a steel desk, half-shadowed. Further back in the darkness, near the corner, someone – something – stood at the ready.

His employer regarded him with obvious disgust. "And so, Mr. Dane, you have failed to acquire the girl. Again."

"It was the guy. He wasn't supposed to show up." With an effort, Dane stopped his excuses and tried to remember exactly how far it was from the desk to the exit.

"You have cost me a considerable amount of money. Your fee was ridiculously high, but you came to me so highly recommended. I am disappointed." Fingers drummed meticulously on the desktop. "Perhaps I should be seeking…restitution."

He tried to wipe his palms unobtrusively on his pants. "I can deliver. I just need a little more time."

"Why should I grant you time? You have done nothing but waste it since the moment I hired you. Tell me, why should I not kill you now? Make your argument a compelling one, Mr. Dane."

He drew in a ragged breath, scrambling for a plan. "I know her," he said quickly. "I know every weakness, every soft spot. I know her routines, I can predict what she'll do."

"I don't want you to play chess with the girl, you incompetent toad."

"She's been training," he said desperately. "She's faster. She's tougher. You bring someone else in, someone who doesn't know her like I do, and they won't take her easy. I can bring her in without a scratch on her. And fast."

The other man stared at him, unblinking, as he stood soaked through with nervous sweat. "You have been spectacularly inept," he said conversationally, and Dane braced for his own execution. "Very well. You will bring me the girl immediately. You will not leave any trail back to me. And," he said, motioning the figure in the corner forward, "You will work with a partner."

There you go, folks. Next up: Remy makes a call. Logan goes outside the job description. Rogue gets some food for thought.