Brief comments here regarding my other stuff. WMB is on temporary hiatus while I revise it some. If anyone wants to work with me on that, just drop me a line. I'll back to updating, though, in a few weeks. Slowly, Silently updates will start within days, though, because it's a project I'd like to finish during summer.

Your comments, as always, make me feel all giddy and warm inside. Thanks! Keep 'em coming!


Chapter Three:Of Flies and Honey


She never would've thought that it was possible to know someone too well. But as she stared into Remy's face, seeing his guilt, Rogue was suddenly faced with that improbable truth. Her stomach twisted into knots. Before she could betray her discovery, Rogue muttered soothing but brief words to Jubilee, and then left the kitchen. She headed upstairs, passed her own room, and went straight for Remy's.

There was several security precautions built in, not because he was so protective of his privacy, but because whenever he got bored, Remy installed a few new ones for fun. Most of them were insignificant –a handful of cameras, a few silent alarms, and a particularly sophomoric bucket of shaving cream that he'd installed specifically for the next time Bobby Drake tried to sneak inside- but there were also some that Rogue took care to disarm. The very loud alarm, for one, and also the trick laser that served the purpose of blinding an intruder.

Once inside, and done with the security measures, Rogue glanced around his room. She'd been in there a number of times before, but never paid particular attention. He had a black comforter, a wall of movie posters, a bookshelf, an uncluttered desk, and a sword collection that had once belonged to his now deceased fiancé. She wondered where he would keep something that he stole.

"Closet." Remy's voice was tired, as he walked past her and pulled open the closet door. He shoved a number of his clothes and hangers out of the way, and opened up a very large metallic box. Inside, she saw, sat a collection of screens, a random buttons, a keyboard, and a drawer. He tugged at the drawer until it gave. Resting in it was a pair of gold cuffs, a pearl necklace, and a thin silk scarf. Remy scooped them into his hand and presented them to her.

She was hit by a wave of fury. He'd stolen. He'd caved. He'd followed his feelings and instincts and history and stolen from someone. And maybe her anger wasn't fair, because she would've been much more understanding of Kurt or Kitty or Scott or anyone else; but it wasn't anyone else, it was Remy and…

They'd had that in common, back when there was nothing else between them. She was bound and chained by circumstance and fate, denied the chance to live life the way she might've liked, and so was he. But they'd forged a bond of friendship, and that had made things so much better, because finally, there was someone to talk to, someone who could understand what it meant to be without a basic need.

But he didn't understand anymore, because he'd broken the vow and stolen.

"I'll give 'em back," he whispered softly, but somehow, that didn't help.


Scott Summers ran a hand over his mouth and stared out the window. The trees in the distance leaned from side to side, a slow dance with the heavy wind. "I'm not sure what you want me to do about this," he said finally, in a tone that reminded him of… a grown-up, he thought, and nearly winced. Was this what his much-imagined life of leadership and pride really amounted to? Asking his teammates to hold out their hands while he retrieved his ruler? Nevertheless, it was his duty to act, to… reprimand. Remy LeBeau had once promised to give up his illegal activities, and now he'd gone and broken that promise, so. It fell to Scott's jurisdiction, awkward as that sounded.

Remy LeBeau shrugged, in that annoying way. It made him look like he was clueless, when Scott knew for a fact that the Cajun was unusually bright. "Whatever y' find is best," Remy said, "I'm prepared t' face da consequences."

"Right." Scott nodded solemnly. He leaned back in the plush chair, ran his hand over his mouth again. "Well, clearly this was a huge breach of trust on your part. We need to be able to rely on you for a lot, and-" He continued on his speech, something he'd memorized years prior, when Xavier had leaned back and made a street urchin take the same pledge. He could remember what Remy's seat felt like. "You're being taken off of active duty for… a week, and you'll report to the kitchen tomorrow morning. Until you're back on duty, you'll handle all of the kitchen chores. If there's a spoon that needs washing, a hand towel that isn't clean, a smudge on the tile, that's all your business. We'll meet again when time's up and reevaluate your dedication to this team."

The Cajun agreed easily. Not a complaint, or a smug grin in sight. Scott sighed and stood. That had gone suspiciously smooth, but Jubilee had already bought his claim of ignorance, and Jean was waiting, and he wasn't about to accuse Remy LeBeau of being too cooperative.


"Hi, Rogue." Remy said into his phone, while he picked at a cookie. "I just wanted t' say I'm sorry an' I talked t' Scott an' Jubes and we're workin' it out. It'd be more n' I deserve for you t' call back soon as y' get dis, but I'll ask anyway just t' give you da satisfaction o' turnin' me down."

He hung up the cell and dialed a different number. While it rang, he surveyed the restaurant. It was a small place with an average name –John's- but the cookie was good and he wasn't really there for the food, anyway. His coffee, at least, was kept constantly hot. He returned the waitress' smile before pressing the phone to his ear again.

"Hey, kitty-kitty, I wanted t' call an' check in. Guess y' not near y' phone, or y' avoidin' me 'cause y' found out about my mistake. I'd like a chance t' explain, or at least present y' wit' da tickets I bought us t' dat concert. Here's hopin'." He hung up again and settled the phone on the table.

Moments later, it was lifted up by slender white fingers. Luc turned it over in his hands a few times, before finally looking up at Remy with a half-grin. His blue eyes twinkled pleasantly. "I bet the job was just beautiful. I bet you could've done it in your sleep. You impress me immeasurably, Remy." His smile slipped into a frown. "It wasn't beautiful?"

"J.L." Remy said slowly. "Who is dat?"

Luc raised an eyebrow. "Jubilation Lee. She's the only daughter of the Lee family. The father's a high-powered doctor, who made a few enemies when he testified in court against an ex-colleague. They put a lot of stuff into boxes during the trial, mostly to secure their own protection. I haven't checked up on them in a few months, though, so I couldn't tell you where they're living. I promise, Remy, they don't miss the contents of that box. These people define the word luxury."

Remy ran his tongue across his lips. "They're dead. Jubilation Lee is a friend o' mine, a member o' da X-Men. Dat stuff is all she has o' them these days. I gave it all back, and so help me, if anyone else tries t' re-steal it, I'm gonna track 'em down an' make 'em sorry."

"Woah!" Luc lifted his hands into the air. "I had no idea. Detailed research is done months in advance. I never would've sent you after it if I'd been aware. You have to believe me, Remy." He didn't have to do anything, Remy wanted to say, but even as he formed the thought, he felt it increasingly difficult to point the finger at his newest acquaintance. Luc looked earnest. "Look," the man continued, "Let me explain that it was all my fault. I'll accept full blame for everything that happened."

"I'm handlin' it myself," Remy assured him. He told him about the week of punishment.

"Are you grounded?" Luc wondered.

"No." Remy confessed.

Luc leaned forward. "I feel so awful about this mishap, Remy. You have to let me make it up to you. There's this great band playing at a club tomorrow night. Bring a date, and everything will be on me. Whatever you want, whatever you need, you won't even have to ask." He looked hopeful.

Remy sighed. And accepted.


He dipped into the clear water, made the sign of the cross, and tossed one last smile at the altar of Her Lady of Grace. It was dark enough that the sun didn't burst through the stained-glass windows and flood the floor with color. The sight of the Church was always a comfort, because it never changed. In Germany, in America, or any other nation he visited, it was always some variation on the same theme.

He allowed himself a smile before exiting the building. Outside was... well, it was a different world. Lady of Grace wasn't the closest church to his home, so he never spent much time in the neighborhood. The buildings, ranging in color and height, were only vaguely familiar. The faces were completely unknown, because the streets were always empty. Kurt Wagner tucked his hands into his pockets and buried his chin in the plaid scarf slung around his neck. Like this, he began the quiet journey home.

He'd taken all of six steps when a voice beckoned to him from the shadows.

"I've been waiting for you, Kurtie."

The blue elf turned to the church doors, but suddenly they seemed a mile away. He swallowed, looked down. "Luc?" His voice wasn't as strong as he wished it.

Luc moved into the light and eyed the church appreciatively. "Most people find it hard to believe, but I've spent quite a lot of time in the House of the Lord. I was a perfect angel in my earlier years, really." The smile of strange nostalgia slipped off his face, and he moved towards Kurt slowly, like a predator not wanting to scare off his prey. "You're far more skittish than you ought to be. I know you, and me, and both our limits. Honestly, right now, you're just a waste of my time." He sighed dramatically and placed a cold hand on Kurt's shoulder. His voice dropped low and serious. "But if you threaten my work, Kurt, I will make you a priority. There are things going on here that've been in the works for decades, and I won't let you ruin them."

Kurt turned to see the church and found that the sight of it strengthened him. He clenched his fists. "Whatever you hoped would happen… it's not going to end well for you, and that outcome won't be because of me. It'll be because you chose the wrong person in Remy LeBeau. He's good."

Luc laughed out loud. "He's good right now, Kurt. Right now." But things change, Luc didn't say.

One of the streetlights exploded suddenly, spraying sparks and small streams of light in all directions. Kurt's eyes were momentarily distracted, caught up in the dazzling and impromptu display. When he looked back to Luc had been standing, he saw only a vast emptiness that extended far down the blackened street. He stood there for a moment longer, before he himself disappeared, leaving a trail of sulfur and smoke in his wake.


Rogue fastened the last of the buttons on her coat and stepped out into the night. The wind was refreshingly cool against her face. She paused to inhale the night air. It wasn't so bad living with a crowd of people, not anymore, but it was still soothing to be out in the open, with miles and miles of open space around her. Her eyes caught sight of someone in the distance, a smiling curling her lips.

Her date.

Her date!

It seemed so long since she'd actually done this part of living. After her powers had manifested, she'd been too scared to consider it for a while, and then Scott was never interested, and- and it was nice to have someone show that kind of interest in her, even knowing her limitations. It was nice to get away from the mansion, the Mission, and her quarrel with Remy. Luc gave her a peculiar sense of freedom.

She rose up a gloved hand and waved.


Remy was running from someone. At first, he thought his pursuers were the police, and that thought made him giddy. His feet moved faster in response, while his eyes scanned the foggy backdrop for any place to hide. But all the walls were solid, not a window or small corner in sight. Never mind. Remy chewed on the corner of his lip and indulged himself with a sharp grin. He could outrun them. He was bursting with energy and adrenaline; this was the sensation he'd been missing.

But then, he passed them, and nearly tripped over their bodies. He had to jump to avoid the boys in blue, who lay scattered and far from consciousness. The giddy feeling left him, and a newfound sense of dread crept in to fill the empty space. If the police weren't after him, who was?

He dared a peek over his shoulder and saw only a deed lying on the floor. He fell out of his run and went to pick it up. The scribbling was small, red, and he didn't bother reading it because it seemed insignificant to the property being signed away: himself. The signature at the bottom was unfamiliar to him, but he memorized it anyway. John Black, it read. Whoever that was.

"Remy?" He turned, and saw Luc, all concern and worry. The older man walked up to him and tossed an arm over his shoulder. Luc gave him a brief, comforting squeeze. "You're not alone, you know. I'm here with you. I'll always be here. This," and he snatched the deed away, "isn't anything you should fear."

"I don't understand it," Remy said.

"You do," Luc assured him. "Trust me."

Mirrors suddenly surrounded them. If he squinted, Remy could make out the shape of a monster, and he coiled back in disgust and horror. A string of curses slipped out in a hushed, harsh whisper. The hand on his shoulder dug in harder, until he could feel nails pressing into his skin. "Resist the urge to flee, Remy."

Blinking hard, Remy said, "What is dat?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Luc shook his head, like he couldn't believe Remy hadn't caught on yet.

Remy looked back to the monster, all claws and teeth and bloody, matted fur. "Big foot?"

"Not quite."


Well, I've accomplished a bit this great American holiday: threatened Kurt, sent Rogue on a date with Mr. Evil Incarnate, and hey, even added a tiff between Rogue and Remy, because hopefully you've all gotten the idea that they're chummy and now it's time to toy with that notion some. Happy Fourth to my compatriots, belated as the sentiment may come. As always, any comments, questions, and red-white-and-blue-painted coconuts may be sent to me, c/o Eileenblzr (at) yahoo. 'Til next time!

On a more personal note:

Kyo-Kitty, Kitsu LeBeau, Rogue14, GothikStrawberry, Nettlez, texasgrrl: Ahem. A poem for my reviewers.

Thank you, dear readers, for all that you do

I hope you will continue to

Leave feedback and comments and fun musings for me

Because they make me so happy

Ta da!

Ishandapenny: There probably aren't flowers in Hell, but I kind of imagined these weedy, vine things. Sort of like the creepy junk on War of the Worlds, but taller and thicker. And while we did have the presence of holy water, chances of an exorcism are looking slim, alas. Although known I really feel like watching Constantine. Hmm. You're not a Buffy-Spike fan, are you?

Cat2fat900: I'm frightened at the prospect of having a ghost and a band of fire squirrels haunting me. PS. You're probably right about Luc not caring so much about the contents of the box. Thanks!

IvyZoe: The Rogue-Luc relationship is taking off isn't it. I blame you. And yes, she does know him that well. Ha!

Lace123: You're so good for my ego! I know how it is to have interest wane at times; that usually happens around the time when there are months between my updates. Heh. I must catch up on your story! It's on my list of things to accomplish in the near future. Thanks so much!

Rogue238: You didn't believe I'd make Rogue actually fall in love with Satan? I'm a little disappointed! Sadly, survey says Rogue will probably have the harder time forgiving Remy. Why must this happen! Oh right, because I wrote it that way…

Jade: I will update SS! Soon! Before the week is through, or my name isn't Amelia Beatrice Hearst. Interesting this is, it really could be Amelia Bea Hearst! Haha! Okay, seriously, thank you so much.

Heartsyhawk: Little known fact: all science and math teachers have to sell their soul before they are given their credentials. It's true. The shock of having one's soul owned by Satan is probably going to hit Remy hard, yes, but… well, I don't really have anything to make that better. Oh well. Thanks for the review!

Betrayed Daughters: Kurt is the most strongly religious. You're welcome. And go online more!

Lady MR, Rogue4787: So you know by now, hopefully, that Rogue didn't go out and spill the beans about Remy's guilt. He's still got enough sense and honor at this point to do the confessing himself. But from here on out, that honor may be in question… Thank you both so much!

Shira's Song: I denied everyone Kitty's reaction. Mostly because, well, I haven't thought it out yet. At the moment, Luc's not entirely bent on appealing to Remy's bad side, only because Remy isn't a bad person, only a confused teen that's trying to balance his loyalties and desires. He might slip a little further each time, though. As another villain once said, these things must be done delicately, or you hurt the spell.

Roguechere: My lips are sealed! And, er, my hands are… sealed too? You know what I mean! I honestly don't know yet how the relationships between Rogue and Remy and Luc will play out, but hopefully in a way which readers like you find fun and interesting? Yes, I shall hope. Thanks!

Silverbells: Cookies? Mine! At least Jubilee got her stuff back. Glad you're liking Luc!