Ha, oops! My bad! I didn't mean for this to take so very long. Really. True story! I dunno where the years have gone. Comments give me peace of mind, lack of comments gives me writer's block. The future is in your hands!

Chapter Six: Mind Games

--------------

---------------------

-----------

-----------------

--------------------

--------

There was writing on the carpet, large black type against a cream-white backdrop, and Rogue squinted to make out the words. She got as far as a single sentence, a quote it turned out, that read, "To him that you tell your secret you resign your liberty". She tried to read the next part, but by then the whole trio of them was out of the elevator and Remy was admiring the hallway – its pure white walls, doors, and ceiling – and Luc was talking about scientists and "years of study". They pulled Rogue along, and she gave a half-hearted sigh before deciding that words on the floor didn't really matter anyway.

"It's called The Game," Luc said, "And we think it's going to be the next big trend in clubs. Each door leads into a room, each room holds a neuro-scanner and holo-emitter head-piece that taps into the user's subconscious and divines that person's great fantasies. The fantasies are then projected out as life-like, interactive holograms for the user's pleasure."

"Like a holodeck," Rogue said.

"An' the Danger Room," Remy added, before Rogue had a chance to hurt him, physically, for bringing up the still top-secret facility.

"Close." Luc grinned. "We have a prototype up and running, though the consumer ready version has to be tested by the state before it's officially approved. You know the government. Still, I bet you'd both enjoy a chance to encounter your own fantasies. The scientists working on it assure me it's safe for testing. So what do you say? Care to make this my Grand Gesture?"

"Hmm," Rogue said, just a little wary of things that tapped into her already-unruly mind.

"Hmm." Remy agreed, set as he was on not jumping into anything Rogue didn't approve of.

"Damn it, Remy, can ya have your own opinion, please?" She glared daggers at him, so sharply he had the urge to feel his chest for wounds.

"Ow," he said, unhappily.

"Just wait," she promised.

"For forgiveness an' love?"

"More like an untimely death."

He said, "... And then, forgiveness an' love?"

"No!"

"So, why would I wait for dat?" She was mad again, or still, but suddenly he wanted to smile. He hid it with a cough that fooled no one.

Rogue clentched her fists and turned back to Luc. "If it gets me the hell away from him, Ah'll do it."

"One person per room is a strict rule. Come on. I'll show you both to your own room, if you'd like to participate, Remy..." For lack of options, and perhaps for curiosity's sake, Remy did.

---------

-------

--------------

----------

The head-piece was more or less a helmet in appearance, a slim thing that Luc slid over her head with ease. He pressed a button and then backed out of the room. "Just relax," he told her. "The Game will figure out when you're ready and begin then."

With a deep breath, Rogue closed her eyes...

She opened them...

She was standing on a shoreline, salt water licking at her ankles, one hand stretched up above her head to block the sun. She lowered it slowly, pausing when the ring on her finger caught the light. The inscription on it lit up, like fire on gold: A promise. Rogue frowned. The rest of her arm was bare. The rest of her was bare, practically. Her dark layers of clothes had given way to cut-off jean shorts that exposed her thighs and a small green bikini top, supported by a tiny string that looped around her neck. "What the..." She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, more from unease than cold.

A low, long whistle pierced the air, and all around her, sound came alive: the roar of the ocean, the cry of the pelicans, and the molasses-heavy voice of the Cajun admiring her. "A vision o' beauty, if ever I saw one. Oh, Chere, y' must be an angel come t' carry dis poor sinner t' paradise."

She frowned. She knew that voice. Knew that boy, and damn it, there weren't supposed to be any intruders on her mind-scape. This was her room in the Game; what was Remy LeBeau doing in it? She spun around, so fast all the sand around her feet twisted up into the air. "What do ya think you're doing here, Cajun? Ah thought Ah made myself clear."

He was there, all right. Sunglasses on his head, champagne bottle and glass flutes in his hands, and a white, unbuttoned shirt on his back, he shrugged. "So did I. You said, Remy, go get da drinks. An' here!" He held up the champagne. "Like a well trained puppy, I obeyed. Y' supposed t' reinforce my good behavior with kisses an' love, not dat scrunched up mad face. It's cute, but inappropriate." He made a 'tsk, tsk' sound with his teeth.

"Screwyou, Cajun."

"Won't y' please? I ain't gotten none all day long." He pouted in a way that would've been charming, if she hadn't wanted to rip off his head.

"Like that's ever been your problem."

"Well.Oui. But Chere, be serious! Y' know dis firecracker only sparks for you!"

She frowned. "What?"

He grinned. "Dis sailor only sails one sea!" She blinked. He added, "Dis pirate only claims one booty?" When she didn't respond, he raised an eyebrow. "Rogue. You're da only girl for me."

She gaped. "Are ya really doin' this?"

Remy lifted his chin and the grin disappeared into an honest frown. "Wooin' da love o' my life on a beach in California? Oui!."

"No!" She insisted.

"No? Umm..."

"You're treatin' me like Ah'm every other girl. Plain talk didn't work, so now you're gonna turn on that Cajun charm, an' Ah'm supposed ta fall, just one more domino on your path ta total conquest o' the feminine population? Ya think Ah'm that dumb? That stupid? Ah thought at least – ha, at least – ya'd have enough respect for me ta treat me like Rogue, a friend, not Girl Number Three Three Nine." She shut her eyes and clenched her fists. "Stupid me, after all."

"Rogue!" Remy held out his hands. "I just went for champagne!"

But she wasn't done. She said, "Did ya even think about Kitty? It hasn't been a whole day since the two o' you split. Doesn't that matter at all?"

"Kitty... Katherine? La Petite?" He moved back a step this time, like she might be crazy and dangerous, and good for him because she probablywas. "With da 'likes' an' da giggles and da pink... everywhere?" He laughed. "Now I know dat's a joke. Ain't no two people less compatible in da world. I'd sooner canoodle with Scooter. 'Least he has nice shoulders... an' don't tell me there ain't a desperate need t' be dominated behind all dat posturin'."

"Ew.Ugh. Can ya stop?" Not that she disagreed, she thought reluctantly. But... but, "Damn it! This is so dumb. Go away!" She leaned forward enough to give him a push, and he stepped back once before disintegrating into the air. He was just... completely... gone. Like some kind of Evapo-Remy. Like someone who wasn't really there at all. Like... part of the Game. But that was just absurd, because a game that was supposed to latch on to her dreams and fantasies should not have brought her Remy LeBeau on a beach in California, with champagne and professions of love.

Of love. Of love! That was ridiculous. Talk about a glitch in the program. She'd rather die a lonely, desperate, cat-loving psychopath than to trade notes and kisses with the Cajun Man-Whoring Wonder. Remy LeBeau was a bastard, plain and simple. She turned around and headed for the other side of the shore...

"Rogue! Y' can't leave me alone here. Where's da romance in dat?" There was a tap on her shoulder and then a rose peeked over, glistening and bright. "Roses are red, my love, violets are blue. Sugar is sweet,Cherie, but not as sweet as you. Da poem is lame, but da sentiment is real. Give me another chance. I'll be better."

"Remy!" She stopped walking and seized the rose. "Ah'm gonna cram this rose inta your head."

"Didn't we do a face threat already?"

She said, "Wrong head," and shoved the flower towards him. "Go."

"But... Rogue."

"Ah don't want ta hear it."

"Chere!"

"Not remotely interested."

"But Rogue!"

"What, Remy? What could ya possibly have ta say that would make the situation improve?"

There was only the slightest hesitation on his lips before he said, "I can't leave. Y' won't let me. Dis world is yours, an' you control what happens here. I'm just... part o' da scenery." He shrugged. "I left because y' said, but y' brought me back soon after. If y' want me to go again, I will, but... y' have t' want it, first. Really want it, if its gonna stick."

She shut her eyes. "Ah do really want it."

Almost sadly, he said, "So how come I still be here?"

"Because you're a bastard in any incarnation." With a heavy sigh, Rogue dropped down onto the sand and rubbed her hands over her face. "Okay. Fine. Tell me what it is Ah think Ah want ta hear from Remy LeBeau... o', whatever. Get it over with."

Remy knelt down beside her, and his eyes were pools of concern. It sickened her. "I don't know how ta say it in a way dat doesn't make y' mad. All I can do is confess what I feel... Rogue, I love you. In da crazy, dumb, dis boy must be whipped kind o' way." He reached for her, and she instinctively shied back – but he reached again, and caught her arm. The Game worked well in one regard, she didn't drain his powers away. Then he caught her by surprise: he looped his arm around her neck and kissed her lips.

He tasted like salt water and felt like satin, and the feel of it made her heart bend and bend until it cracked in half. Everything oozed out. She pushed him back, cursed his name, but the damage was done. Nothing could erase the taste of his mouth on hers, and even though he wasn't the Real Remy, just a fabrication of her mind... even though it was just a fantasy... God... she wanted it to be real. She wanted to kiss him. To dive at him, pin him to the sand, and keep him there until she'd had her fill of his taste and feel and sounds. She wanted Remy LeBeau. Her best friend. And that would've been all wonder and magic, except when she was done playing with Pinocchio, she had to go back to reality and the Remy of real, and that one didn't want her back. Not like that. They were just friends. (And he was a bastard, still).

She cupped her mouth and muttered a half-muted a "Crap."

----------

--------------------

---------------------------

------

-----------------

When Remy opened his eyes in the game-world, he was running from someone. At first, he thought his pursuers were the police, and that thought made him giddy. He'd been missing a good chase. His feet moved faster from the thrill, while his eyes scanned the foggy backdrop for any place to hide. But all the walls were solid, not a window or 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.

But then he passed them, and nearly tripped over their bodies. He had to jump to avoid the unconscious cops, who lay scattered and far from consciousness. The giddy feeling subsided, 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 for future reference. 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. 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."

"Haha, maybe next time." But then, movement in the mirrors caught his attention. 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."

"Its…"

"You? Is that what you hesitate in asking? There are a lot of mirrors here, Remy. That could so easily be a reflection of you. Your inner demon. Or, of mine, I suppose, but I feel fairly certain I don't have an inner demon." He laughed. "Anyway, there's only one way to find out if it's you or if it isn't."

Remy wanted to say that he didn't care. Him or not, it was freaky, and he would be perfectly fine to just leave it alone. Walk away. Was there an exit to the fun house from hell? There had to be. How else would he have wound up inside? If he could just find it… But Luc pulled him closer to the monster and all protests died on his tongue. Certainly, they didn't register in his feet, which moved exactly where they were instructed. Closer, until he could see it's sharp claws, curling tail, and bright eyes. Bright red eyes.

"It is me." He whispered.

He turned to Luc, because the man seemed to have all the answers. "What do I do now?"

"I've heard that some people battle their inner demons, Remy." Of course. Except…

"But he's a reflection in da mirror. An' even if he weren't, I don't have no weapons. He's got claws." Sharp claws, at that.

"And I thought you were supposed to be resourceful. Reach in and pull him out. You don't need weapons. You've got spirit."

Yes. He had spirit. Remy swallowed hard and stuck his hand towards the glass. Amazingly, it went right through. His fingers curled around the shirt that the demon was wearing. He gave a yank, and the demon stumbled. Remy laughed, mildly surprised. Was he really that strong? How… empowering.

He grinned, and attacked.

"Woah, Remy! Relax! Wake up!" A hand seized his and shook it; the world around him fell away with a shake, like reality was made of puzzle pieces and they were all tumbling to the ground, vanishing into the white tile of the floor. Remy opened his eyes and gasped. Luc was still holding his hand, moving his fingers back and forth in a vaguely soothing action. He said, "I'm not sure what happened... but I think you fell asleep with the Game on. Come on, sit up. Take a deep breath."

Remy nodded and did as he was told. "What next?"

"Next?" Luc patted his back. "Next we find Rogue and see how she's doing."

------------

----------------

-----------------------------

She wasn't doing overly well. She'd separated herself from the Game on her own, and was sitting on the floor, her back up against the wall. The hair in the corners of her face had turned to ringlets, probably from sweat, and Remy had the urge to be sit next to her and speak soothing words; instead, he held his tongue while Luc took the actions he'd wanted for himself. He ran his hand along Rogue's arm, murmured something Remy didn't hear.

Then, he held up his head and spoke to both of them. "I'm not going to lie to you two. The neuro-scanner technology recorded both your Games and I was able to see bits and pieces of what you experienced. It's a protective feature; sometimes our own fantasies can be deadly. Regardless, I know what it is you saw." Rogue cringed at that, and Luc said, "But trust me, I have no interest in exploiting the... secrets exposed to me." And Remy was relieved, too, because he was already in hot water for getting back in the thieving game briefly; if Rogue and Co. found out he was still dreaming about the thrill... "Your secrets are safe," Luc said. "You can trust me."

He offered Rogue a helping hand in standing up, and slipped his arm around her waist, tugging her close to his side, after. She said, "Ah didn't see what Ah expected ta see here." She didn't look Remy in the eye, at all. He was never going to get out of that dog house.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. Apparently, there are more kinks to work out than reported." He shook his head and looked apologetic to Remy. "I'm afraid this isn't quite the perfect evening I had planned. Maybe I should give up trying." Luc's pale face cracked into a grin, all of a sudden. "But I have one more trick up my sleeve but I throw in the towel completely. I know exactly where we can go."

"Ah don't know, Luc." Rogue sighed. "Mostly Ah'm just tired."

"But Rogue! One more place?" He bit his lip and creased his brow and was at once the handsome, slightly misplaced man he'd been on their doorstep, pale and friendly and eager to please. His cool blue eyes were almost warm. He whispered something in her ear and she laughed, faintly, and then nodded. "Thank you, Rogue," he breathed, lightly. "You never fail to delight. To Remy he said, "Are you in?"

"Maybe not." He sighed. "Dafemme isn't da only one who's tired."

"But this is your night."

"But it's not my night, mon ami. Part of me feels I should go home early n' start tryin' t' make amends with da people I got upset. Lord knows it's gonna take enough talk." There was Kitty, for starters. He had to at least apologize, for being a terrible boyfriend if nothing else. He had been the initiator of their ill-fated romance.

"Remy. Are you sure?" Remy looked at Luc, at Rogue, and then at the floor.

"Oui. I'm sure."

"Well, if you insist. I'll call a taxi."

Remy tried again to make eye contact with Rogue, but she just leaned against Luc's weight and stared at the floor. He didn't want to leave her, but he didn't want to exacerbate their problems anymore than he had already done. He said, "I'm sure."

------------

------------------

--------

----------------

"Ah'm so glad that wasn't awkward," Rogue muttered dryly, when Remy was gone and Luc was busy arranging transportation for him and Rogue for their next Big Adventure. "Clearly, living with him is gonna be a snap!" The false cheer in her voice died as her face fell into a frown.

"Rogue?" Luc said, glancing from the phone book in his hands to the girl at his side.

"Did ya see?" She asked, not sure how much he knew, or how much she wanted him to. If he knew nothing, all the better to keep the secret. But if he'd seen the fake Remy – and she wanted to cringe, because how could he have missed such a centering feature of her mind-scape? - then maybe she could talk to him. Ask for advice. And after all, it wasn't like she could go to Kitty or Remy. DamnitDamnitDamnit.

"If you're referring to the whole Cajun-love-professions part, absolutely not." Luc said, with a small smile.

"Ugh! All this time Ah've been calling Remy dumb, and here Ah am, secretly loving the worst possible person." She buried her face in her hands and let out a frustrated groan. "Ah'm an idiot. How did Ah not get that? Did Ah miss the warning signs? Not take 'When Harry Met Sally' seriously enough? Fall in the crazy pool while my eyes were closed?"

"You're panicking," Luc said.

"For reals?" Rogue said, with fake earnestness. Then, "That doesn't help!"

"Rogue, Rogue." Luc clicked the phone off and gestured for her to step closer. "All I can tell you is that sometimes things happen we can't control, and the only way to recover is to make some alteration in the things we can. You're attracted to Remy. Okay. That was unexpected. But maybe you could counter it with a little bit of planned romance. "

"Ya mean..."

"I mean... find someone who can help you take your mind off the things you don't want to think of. I happen to know someone who'd be willing to be used... however you might see fit." He gave her a smile and placed a hand on her shoulder. "This might be an awkward time to announce my attraction and interest. Sorry for that." The apology sounded sincere, but he gave no outward physical reaction that would confirm it.

She looked up at him. That Luc was an attractive man was nothing new. There was something in the easiness of his smile that made him seem easy to please – and pleasing was not something she did easily. Something in the way that he looked at her that made her feel attractive, made her want to blush and look away – and that was not common, either. Remy was the best friend she could imagine, but Luc was the first guy since Scott that just... appealed to her. That way. Maybe indulging that attraction a little could help her get over the whole 'being in love with the best friend' thing.

MaybeMaybeMaybeMaybe... (not?)

"Whatever you say, I'll still keep your secret." Luc assured her, edging his hand up towards the sides of her face. "And in return, I'll give you a secret of my own. You're a mutant, but I'm not exactly 'normal' either..." He trailed his hand up – up – up until it was brushing her cheek, and there was the secret and the surprise – her powers never kicked in. She remained herself, with a hand on her face that was warm and shocking and pleasant all at once.

"What the..."

"See? I wouldn't be such a bad choice." Luc leaned in – hesitantly at first – and brushed the slightest hint of a kiss across her mouth.

"Oh," she said. "...Okay then." And while her mind seemed to fizzle and evaporate, she stood motionless and let him kiss her again.

--------------------------

------------

------------------

------------------------

------------------------------

End chapter six, the source of much consternation. Um, so there were a couple of problems in the story tone, etc, that I wanted to revise before the posting of chapter six, but then today I was like, ah, screw it! And decided that finishing a fic might be better than trying the (undoubtably impossible) task of perfecting it. Perhaps if the idea works here, I might apply it to many more of my unfinished fics. Anyways, it's been a while, so forgive me if I need to find my X-voice (that sounds almost r- rated), but I will be sure to find it soon! (We can hope). As always, all questions, comments, and coconuts can be sent to me as a review here, an email to eileenblzr(at)yahoo(dot)com, or to the Yahoo Messenger ID of the same name. I love feedback!