Stark Tower, New York City, New York
The Past, Six Weeks Ago
Rogue walked into the conference room to interrupt a conversation. Tony Stark was there, as was Matt Murdock. Steve Rogers stood stoically observing the exchange. Tony appeared irritated, even as he nodded a greeting in Rogue's direction. He was half-reclined in a chair, arms crossed over his chest and looking up at Matt. Matt turned slightly when Rogue entered and pressed his mouth into a vague smile. Matt was dressed professionally in a suit and tie, apparently having just come from work. Unfortunately for him, his slacks and his suit jacket didn't match.
"It wouldn't be for very long," Matt said as he turned back to Tony. "Until Saturday, at the most."
"Do you think I'm running a witness protection program here?" Tony asked.
"The man came to me for help. If he felt he could rely on the authorities for protection, he would have gone there," Matt continued. "His life is in danger. I thought this seemed a safe enough place for him to lie low."
"Safe enough?" Tony remarked, his eyebrow raising.
"What's goin' on?" Rogue asked.
"Mr. Murdock here wants us to offer a refuge to a felon, a gang member," Tony said dryly. "One of his prestigious new clients."
"Ex-gang member," Matt responded. "It's very important that he stay alive. He has information, he knows something that could topple an international terrorist money-laundering ring."
"How many terrorist organizations are you going to piss off this time?" Tony asked Matt conversationally.
Matt seemed to consider this for a moment. "Specifically...? The New Juárez Cartel. And in general...? Like, a lot of other people. But if you could take care of my witness until I clean up this little problem with the local faction of the Juárez gang..."
"I imagined you would get tired of being shot at by common street thugs," Steve said.
"I'm a lot more comfortable with gang-bangers than people possessed by an immortal flaming bird from space," Matt commented wryly.
"When you say it like that, it just sounds ridiculous," Rogue said.
"Why was your client imprisoned?" Steve asked.
"A handful of drug-related crimes," Matt admitted. After an awkward pause he added: "And sexual assault."
Steve glanced over at Rogue. "I'm not sure –," he began.
"He paid his debt to society and he's turned over a new leaf," Matt said, and angled himself to face Rogue. "Earned a degree on the inside, found religion."
"Ah'm sure there are other alternatives," Rogue said stiffly. "Other places your client could stay."
"Sorry, Matt," Tony said.
Matt's mouth was an impatient line as he picked up his briefcase from the conference table. "I don't have the convenience to pick and choose my clients. They pick me because they don't have anyone else to turn to."
"A ringing endorsement of your skills if ever I heard one," Tony said.
"You know, there are plenty of regular people with regular problems who need help. It's not all alien hordes and planet-eating giants and super-powered maniacs bent on global domination," Matt said and turned to leave. Before he exited, he turned slightly and said over his shoulder: "And speaking of regular problems, next time you get sued, find a different lawyer."
"We have you on retainer...!" Tony called after Matt. He shook his head impatiently, then abruptly turned and pointed at Rogue: "So speaking of felons...I need to have a word with your boyfriend. Gambit."
Rogue felt a flash of irritation. "Ah don't have a boyfriend," she said testily.
Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever. I can't keep track of who's dating who in the X-Family."
Rogue put her hands on her hips. "Ah'll draw you up a diagram," she snapped. "What do you want Gambit for?"
"You mean other than the fact that he hacked into my security system, downloaded a virus to my laptop, ate all of Thor's crackers...which he won't stop whining about, by the way...Gambit also borrowed," he made air quotes with the index and middle fingers of both hands, "a prototype of my design, drank my alcohol, hit on my girlfriend, and then tried to free Cyclops from his holding cell!"
"He did?" Rogue asked, perplexed. "When did he have time t'do all that?"
"He must have excellent time management skills," Tony continued. "Because that was just the first day. It's what he did afterwards that I have a problem with."
"What was that?" Rogue said, somewhat dreading the answer.
"Gambit stole a large quantity of information S.H.I.E.L.D. appropriated from a government project called Black Womb," Steve answered.
"Wha – why?" Rogue asked.
"I have an inkling," Tony told her. "Does the name 'Moreau' mean anything to you?"
"As in: 'Island of Doctor'?" Rogue suggested, and when Tony shook his head she said: "No...Should it?"
Tony and Steve glanced at one another. "The strange thing is," Tony started, "is that when I set up Gambit's security profile and put his DNA identification into the system...well, his genetic code was already in our database. Under the name 'Moreau.'"
"An alias?" Rogue suggested.
"The source came from the Black Womb files," Steve said. "Which go back over fifty years. The most recent, about thirty."
Rogue felt a stirrings of nervousness in her gut. "So...what does that mean? You have thirty-year old DNA that matches Gambit's? He would've been just a...Ah don't know. A baby then?"
Tony nodded and pushed his chair back so that he reclined even further. "So your not-boyfriend, for whatever reason, came and helped himself to some secure intel. Now if he had a personal reason to do so, fine."
"But that doesn't excuse the fact that people who are supposed to be our allies are stealing from our facility," Steve said. "I hope you can act as an intermediary. Talk to him. Have him return the data. No questions asked."
Rogue shook her head. "Ah –," she began. "Ah'm not...we're not..."
Tony rolled his eyes in Steve's direction. Rogue felt her face color. "Ah haven't seen him since Tuesday last," she said.
Tony sat forward. "What, did you have him here for a sleepover?"
Furious, Rogue shook her head, her hair whipped over her shoulder. "Ah picked him up at Central Park and took him...someplace. He was never here."
"Not according to my security logs," Tony challenged.
"Well, your logs are wrong," Rogue retorted. "He was drunk as a skunk and bleeding from his face. Not in any condition to be skulking about Stark Tower."
Steve held his hands out, palms up. "Rogue, we don't care if you and Gambit are –."
"Ah'm not lyin' to y'all," Rogue announced. "Ah'm tellin' you there's something the matter with your security. Maybe you should concern yourself with that!"
"There's nothing wrong with my security," Tony interjected.
"Oh, yeah? Then how's come your laptop's got a virus on it? Why's there a cat on your desktop background?" She pointed at the oversized monitor behind Tony Stark's head. "You can't even password protect your own computer!"
"When you make me up that relationship diagram, Rogue, could you label which members of your team are criminals? Thanks, that'll come in handy," Tony said with sarcasm.
Steve once again raised his hands. "All right, that's enough."
On the monitor, Wolverine's face replaced the image of the cat wearing the lime as a hat. "Stark," he said over the video relay.
Tony turned his chair to face the monitor. "What is it, Logan?"
"I need to talk to Rogue. Sam too, if he's there," Wolverine answered.
Rogue stepped forward so she could be seen on camera. "Ah'm here," she said. "What's up?"
Wolverine's eyes flicked to Steve then back to Rogue. "I need you back at the school."
"Is there a problem, Wolverine?" Steve asked.
Wolverine seemed to consider his answer for a moment. "Yeah," was his unsatisfactory response.
Steve seemed to be running out of patience with his reticent recruits. "Care to elaborate on that?"
"It's none of your business, bub. This is a family matter," Wolverine growled.
Tony interrupted: "That's the team spirit."
"Logan, what is it?" Rogue asked. "Did something happen to one of the students?"
"No," Wolverine said. "Not a student. But something came up. Or I should say someone. Sinister."
Rogue stiffened. "Ah'm on mah way," Rogue said, and turned to leave. Steve grasped her by the upper arm.
"Wolverine, I'm going to insist. If there's an issue, we can help you handle it. I'll assemble a team. What is the nature of this mission?" Steve asked.
Wolverine held up a gray slip of paper, torn along one edge and folded in the middle. A note had been written out with a fountain pen. "Search and rescue," Wolverine said.
~ oOo ~
Next time: Cat fights, sex, monsters, explosions, all that and a bowl of soup.