Ha ha! A study break! And a new chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. Your reviews are awesome! And thank for all the faves and alerts. It's so nice to know people are interested. I had one review that questioned if this was a giant trap laid by both the Thieves and the X-Men to get Remy and Rogue together. That isn't true. But the chapter that will explain Logan's reasoning about some things is the next chapter. So if I'm giving that impression, hang on, I will hopefully get that cleared up fairly soon.

As always I don't own anything X-Men or Marvel related. Just lots of engineering text books that I would currently like to throw out the window.

Please let me know what you think and enjoy!

Layla

Remy stood silently in his bedroom, staring at the space that had been named his since Jean-Luc had taken him in off the street. At one time he'd believed the LeBeau's had saved him and this room had been his haven. But then the tarnish had started to show. Like finding out in the middle of the heist that the object in question was fake and of no value, Remy had in a quick moment put the signs together and realized that there was no love or care binding his new family to him. Just greed.

This room had become his temporary refuge in his Guild prison, the only place he could guarantee that he was alone. Until his powers had manifested and then gone crazy. His whole life had become a prison, his uncontrollable power trapping him more completely than anything before.

He'd been truly grateful for Jean-Luc's help with that. In spite of everything, the Guild had stood by him through it. It had bonded him to the Guild and to his family. For a time he'd been desperate enough and, impossible though it seemed, naïve enough to believe his family had come to actually love him. By the time he and his father had found Sinister, they had both been so relieved. And even through the hell that had turned out to be, Remy could honestly say Jean-Luc would never have put him through that had he known how it would have actually turned out. His father was bastard, but he wasn't a butcher.

After he finally thought he was out of that, he'd then been doubly betrayed. Jean-Luc had inadvertently revealed that a prophecy was why he'd held on to Remy through his insane powers. The family that he'd thought he'd gained during those horrible months was still just a ruthless band of thieves who wanted to use him. And the man who'd both tortured and experimented on him in the process of giving him the control he'd so desperately needed had demanded an additional price for his work.

It had taken a year, a year of piece by piece selling his soul to find a way out. But he'd eventually found that way out. And in the course of the escape he'd run into an angry Goth mutant who'd intrigued and surprised him. And whom he'd lied to in order to save his worthless father. And with whom he was now going on the run with again.

Although this time she'd come to him…

His internal musings where interrupted by the arrival of Henri. He turned to face his brother. Maybe the only person in this whole mess who actually gave a damn about him personally.

"I can see why you like the fille." His brother said with a small smile. "She's got your kind of spark."

Remy returned the smile tightly. "Southern spitfire."

Henri nodded. He looked at the floor for a moment before drawing a deep breath. "You don't belong here, frère. Never have. Best thief I've ever laid eyes, but you aren't meant for this life."

Henri walked around the room, eyes taking in the details without absorbing them. "I know you came back out of loyalty. Some sort of debt you owe to the Guild for pulling you off the streets." Henri stepped up to him, and looked him straight in the eye. "Consider it paid. In full."

Remy started to argue, but couldn't. Thief he might be, but had his own rules of honor. He paid his debts. That's why he'd come back. And very nearly married Bella Donna. "That the ruling of a prince?" he asked, giving his brother a chance to not draw their father's anger when this came to light.

Henri nodded resolutely, accepting whatever recriminations the decision might incur. "Oui." And added as an afterthought, "Mattie's and Mercy's too, for what it's worth."

Remy tipped his head slightly in acceptance. He quickly pulled a single photograph from the built in bookshelf, ripped it out of the frame and tossed it, and the disk hidden behind it, in the bag that would fit on the back of his motorcycle. A pair of jeans. A shirt for daytime. He hesitated only on a pair of flannel sleeping pants and a long sleeve t-shirt, but eventually tossed them into the tiny bag with a toothbrush, a comb, and a couple of pairs of gloves and his sunglasses.

He stopped and looked at Henri one last time. Remy gave his only real family member one last hug. They nodded at each other. Without a backward glance he went to meet Rogue.

They left just a little after four. No one was on the roads outside New Orleans except for truckers. Their immediate plan was to drive north, staying along the Louisiana-Mississippi border instead of taking the fastest route to Bayville, which would have meant heading east across Mississippi and into Alabama. Jean-Luc had demanded they stay within Louisiana for as long as possible. His way of ensuring the X-men couldn't approach too quickly. Although counterproductive in terms of drive time, the plan worked just fine for Gambit at the moment.

The route took them north out of New Orleans, skirting around Baton Rouge, briefly into Mississippi, before crossing back into Louisiana at Vidallia. But most important to Gambit was that it took only one road. They would follow U.S. 65 the whole way to Tallulah. And there they would pick up Interstate 20 and go east into Vicksburg. Straight line driving was about all he was up to at the moment.

It was four and half hour's drive time from New Orleans to Tallulah, and then less than half an hour east into Vicksburg. Small highways and towns meant limited speeding in order to avoid local law enforcement, but that was also just fine with Remy. At least for now.

Tired, feeling as though the world was speeding by twice as fast as he could ride, the only thing that felt real at all was Rogue. Her arms wrapped around his waist, her legs pressed tight to his as they rode. Her chest was warm against his back. Even through his duster and hers, he could still feel the heat from her body. And the tension. Neither of them would relax until they had put some distance between themselves and both the Guild and the Mauraders.

Other than a quick refill for the gas tank in Natchez, they drove without stopping until they hit Vicksburg. It was a few minutes before ten when they stopped at a little café for breakfast. Sliding the bike into a spot visible from inside, they both took a moment to stretch after so many hours hunched over a motorcycle.

Watching as she pulled off her helmet, Remy couldn't quite control the smile pulling at his lips. Just before they'd left his father's house, Mercy had raced out, her black Guild Thief duster in her hands. Rogue had been surprised at the gift. But Mercy had insisted, saying she'd get another one in no time, and that Rogue would need a coat for the drive.

From a practical standpoint, Mercy was right. Driving through the Appalachian Mountains on a motorcycle in November did require a coat. But Gambit couldn't help but think that the black leather coat looked far better on Rogue than it ever had on his future sister-in-law. It was cut to be more fitted and feminine than his own tan duster, and it suited her.

Shaking his head to clear it, he ignored Rogue's questioning look and headed inside.

It was a typical truck stop café, filled with people who were friendly enough, but mostly minded their own business. Perfect for two people who intended to pay cash and keep to themselves, but didn't want McDonald's as their only food option.

A couple of nice breakfast scrambles later and both were ready for a nap. No amount of coffee was going to overcome the last 48 hours for either of them. They needed sleep. A small, local drive-in motel had a room with two double beds ready. They used Anna James's credit card to pay, before stumbling into the room.

Rogue didn't even bother to change clothes. She just pulled her shoes and jacket off and fell on the bed farthest from the door. Remy gave her a small laugh before essentially doing the same, willing to bet that both of them were asleep within five minutes.

The sound snapped Gambit awake, his hands reaching for the deck of cards he'd set on the nightstand before falling asleep. Heart pounding and eyes burning as he scanned the room for intruders, he paused, finding nothing out of place. A second sound, more mumbled distress, pulled his attention to Rogue. She was pale and sweating, her face twisted in a grimace, one hand grasping the sheet tightly.

Taking a moment to breathe and get his bearings, Gambit noted the sunlight coming in from the edges of the motel room's curtained window. He had no idea what time it was, but he now had the mother of all non-hangover headaches, so he assumed it hadn't been that long since they arrived. Just enough to really fall asleep.

Rogue drew his attention again with another mumble, this time sounding more angry than afraid. He wondered briefly if he should wake her up or just leave her be. Reluctantly deciding she would hate knowing he knew of her nightmares, he lay back down and was just drifting back to sleep when she shouted, sending him flying out of bed in surprise.

"Get your hands off me!" Even half awake, he could hear the fear and disgust in her twangy voice.

"Easy, Rogue," he said softly, gingerly reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder. Well aware of her prickly nature, he gently nudged her shoulder to wake her up as she squirmed in her sleep. "It's only a dream, chérie. Wake up."

Despite his careful movements and reassuring voice, she still bolted upright, panting, her hands grasping at the one he'd placed on her shoulder, her fingers jerking his thumb back painfully to make him let go out of habit.

With a muffled Mfff of pain, Remy let go of her shoulder, shaking his hand to get feeling back in his thumb. "Easy there, chérie! It's only me."

It took a moment before she could do more than stare at him blankly. "Remy?" she muttered, sounding both relieved and confused. Her eyes darted around the room before she looked at him again. Mumbling something that sounded like 'we're safe', she pushed both hands back through her hair.

Uncertain of what to do or say, Gambit sat on the edge of his bed facing her. He might have shared a bedroom with various women, but none of those encounters had ever involved waking from nightmares. They really hadn't involved much waking at all.

Rogue finally sat up straight and looked at him. "Sorry," she apologized quietly, her cheeks an odd mix of fear pale and blush pink.

"Pas de probleme," he answered lightly. He tried to think of a gentle way to ask what she was dreaming about without unduly prying when she interrupted his thoughts.

"You really got a scar below your left eye?" she asked hesitantly.

His eyes widened in surprise, and without thought he reached up and touched the scar, so faint that he could barely see it in bright light when he was looking for it. But he could feel it. If she knew about the scar, then she'd been having one of his nightmares. His stomach turned. She shouldn't have to see that.

Reluctantly Remy looked her in the eye and nodded. "I'm sorry, Rogue. You shouldn't have to mess with … all of that."

She gave him a tight smile. "It wasn't just your memories. My own got in there somehow." She paused considering, "And Logan's. I think." A shiver ran down her back at the memory of the dream.

Rubbing her temples she muttered. "My head is killing me. What time is it?"

Gambit glanced at the clock. "Eleven forty-five," he grumbled. No wonder they both had a headache. They'd only been asleep a little over an hour. "Definitely need more sleep," he groaned.

Rogue nodded, but slipped into the bathroom.

Remy laid back down, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She really shouldn't have to face his nightmares. He wouldn't wish his time with Sinister on any one. Knowing she picked that information up in the process of saving his life just made it worse. He knew just enough details about her past to know that she'd faced more than enough nightmares on her own and from her fellow X-Men without adding in his misadventures.

Rogue returned from the bathroom and settled back under her covers. She gave him a tight smile and closed her eyes.

He watched her for a moment. Even with the disturbing nightmares she was still beautiful, all pale skin and auburn hair. He shook the thought from his head. They had more important things to worry about than the fact that he could happily watch her for hours.

With a sigh, Remy turned on his side, facing away from Rogue and tried to push thoughts of her and Sinister away. He was just drifting off when Rogue jerked, a faint "No" on her lips.

After the third time in half an hour that Rogue jerked them both awake, Gambit had had enough. He was desperate for sleep, and so was she.

"C'mere, chérie." He rolled to face her and pushed himself up on one arm. Palm up, he reached out his fully gloved hand. He knew she didn't like being pushed into decisions. But he hoped she let it go this once since there was no way he'd be able to convince Rogue to come lay down beside him any time in the near future.

Uncertain of what he was doing and why he was doing it, she cautiously extended her arm to him. With a lightning fast tug, he pulled her into the bed beside him.

"What the hell!" It came out as more of a squawk, and she tried to pull away.

"Easy, chérie. Just relax," he purred softly. "You won't hurt me. Just relax."

He settled her on her side, her back against his chest, wrapping one arm around her waist, and took a deep breath letting the tension in his muscles melt away against her warmth.

It took a moment, but Rogue forced herself not to hyperventilate. She could feel Remy stretched out behind her, a feeling that was somehow both terrifying and warm and reassuring. He was careful to keep his hands away from her skin and away from any other parts of her body. He made no further moves, no suave flirting or teases; he just let his body drift toward sleep.

She took a deep breath, willing her body to relax. She told herself that he was not trying to seduce her. It was more like an attempt to comfort her so she could sleep. Maybe.

The pillow smelled like Cajun spices and cloves, the same scents she remembered from when he'd wrapped her in his coat on the train to Louisiana. She paused. She hadn't realized she even remembered that.

Her thoughts drifted around the man behind her, clearly the only man crazy enough to voluntarily get that close to her skin and then relax. She pushed all thoughts of Sinister and Trask and Weapon X out of her mind. For the moment she was safe, and she needed sleep. She fell asleep with the memory of Remy placing the Queen of Hearts in her hand. You've got people watching over you.

Gambit woke first, his mind easing toward wakefulness lazily. Without moving the arm around Rogue's waist, he stretched, lifting his head to read the clock. Five o'clock. No wonder he was so hungry. A quick glance at Rogue made it obvious that she was still out like a light.

He watched her sleep, trying to remember if he'd ever been in bed with a woman where the only intent was sleeping. If he had, he didn't remember it. But then he was pretty certain no one had ever been in bed with Rogue for any reason. Their loss, he thought to himself with a smirk.

It had always surprised him that no one had tried to gain the girl's affection. He knew she'd had a crush on One-Eye for a while. But after he and the perky red head had finally gotten together that had seemed to fade somewhat, much to Gambit's relief. He just couldn't picture that relationship working out, Scooter being much too tame for a woman like Rogue. But in all the time he'd spent with Magneto as an Acolyte he'd never seen anyone act even the slightest bit interested. Aside from himself.

He'd never understood that.

Of course he'd never found her untouchable skin to be a deterrent, and from what he'd seen most people had purposefully avoided her because of it. There were a few exceptions, but they were either female (Storm and le Chat) or as close to family as she got (Wolverine and that Nightcrawler guy). He didn't quite get why everyone found her skin so off putting. There was more to relationships than skin on skin touching. He would know. He'd had plenty of skin on skin contact without having a real relationship with any of the women.

He silently snorted. He didn't do relationships. They weren't his style.

Except possibly with her.

The thought of an actual relationship with Rogue had crossed his mind even before their train ride to New Orleans. The first time he'd genuinely thought about it, it had surprised him. So much so that he'd nearly fallen over, banging his head on the wall he'd been lounging against while pretending to listen to Magneto.

After several days of outright denial he'd finally attributed the thought to Rogue herself. For all that she was a rebel the trust and effort required by both parties for her to have romantic-esque contact with someone essentially demanded a relationship. And with her already rampant issues about self-worth that Mystique and her mutation had heaped on her, it would take serious effort on the part of her partner to earn that trust.

But he couldn't quite kick the idea that he'd wanted to earn that trust and be the one who got to hold her. And after her little knockout kiss, he was pretty certain she was at least a little interested in him.

Of course all that had gone out the window when word of his father's kidnapping had arrived. She'd been in the middle of a personal crisis herself, and he hadn't had the time to gently convince her to help him.

That trip had been an eye opener for him in a lot of ways. He'd already known he enjoyed annoying her. Hearing her growl out a challenge during a battle or coaxing an angry retort after school were favorite pastimes of his. But on that trip he'd learned that he enjoyed making her laugh too. He liked that she hadn't just let him push her around. She'd gone along with him after he'd untied her, but she hadn't blindly followed. He'd enjoyed fighting with her and not against her. And judging from the grins he'd seen as they raced that boat through to bayou, he wasn't the only one.

He'd never before appreciated how much it helped to have someone who could relate to his past. He'd started telling her about that to keep her hooked and helping him. But by the end, he'd been telling a friend about his past because it somehow made facing his father a little easier. He still wasn't sure why that was.

But in the end, after she'd stopped Wolverine from killing him, he'd gone back to his family. He hadn't planned to stay. It had just worked out that way. And in not immediately leaving he'd set himself up to be trapped by the Guild again. By the time he'd seen the X-Men taking on Apocalypse on the news, he'd been engaged. Bound by Guild law to his family and his future wife's family, not the stripe-haired X-Man on the TV screen.

He snorted silently, easing away from Rogue and out of bed. He was free of his almost marriage to Belle, free of the Guild if he wanted it, and he'd just spent the last 5 hours asleep with Rogue in his arms. Without intent he now had all the things he'd desperately wanted just a few days before. And he hadn't any idea in hell what to do with any of it.

He had a feeling that someone, somewhere was laughing at him.

-sings off key- "On the road again...seems like Remy's always on the road again..."

Okay enough Willie Nelson. Just where will the road take them, and how long will they be traveling together? That and more next time.