Thanks to all my patient reviewers!
PandylBas, Angelwingz21, animefan135, Akiko Sakura, Sweetcornbee, Midnight Wolfy (Amen to happy endings!), selina (LOL!), SilverWolf77, Fanfic Connoisseur, MichieT, Regin, RogueNya, ChamberlinofMusic, CaraM (I'm glad! And yeah - it was a packed chapter!), aiRo25, Doesn't Matter, Lizzieturbo (It's okay!), martshi3, Abeytu, drumgirl1923, Wanda W, Ishandahalf (I love inserting humor), ShadowFax999 (thanks!), Allyg1990 (lol!), Folle, Sassyx22x, dreamschemer, edward's blossom (flatterer!).
Favorite long review: Nikari87 - I love "a mixture of longwinded, giddy, and philosophical." Thank for affirming I imbued the sexual side with meaning and kept that as the focus. Rogue and Remy are both damaged - but they can help each other heal, instead of just hurting each other more, it's a struggle. LOL about the ending!
Favorite review: helenxxx - "hi, this is a wonderful & moving story - you really capture both the feeling of falling in love & lust and the very different feeling of being in love and making it work, thank you." Thanks!
And quotables: Chica De Los Ojos Cafe - "I kinda told-her-about-Remy-probably-being-in-Louisiana."-And I choose 'Things Kitty Did to Put Herself in the Hot Spot' for 200 Alex.
He was standing on a platform, ringed by Assassins in ceremonial armor, directly opposite another platform filled with Thieves, who were talking amongst themselves, also clad in ceremonial armor. He checked the swamp discreetly and was at least relieved that the Grand Dame hadn't shown up yet.-Nothing about the situation Remy finds himself is screams, "I'm safe and have nothing to worry about." (LOL!)
Sorry for the delay, but this is what happens when someone enters graduate school!
o
Playing for Keeps
o
o
The Thieves took them in. Jean Luc offered without discussion - with Marius dead and Candra de-powered, the Guilds were in enough turmoil that the apparent nullification of Remy's exile wasn't even marked, especially considering Belladonna was the one who'd brought him into the City in the first place. Besides, Rogue had saved Jean Luc's life and she was in no shape to travel. (No one wanted to risk her 'awakening' while in flight with super strength.)
The Assassins took Candra. Only Xavier dared to ask what would be done with her, but Jean Luc told him firmly it was not his concern. The Assassins had strict traditions concerning death. Despite, or perhaps because of, their trade, they had strict procedures for treating the death of one of their own, not to mention their transfer of power.
Remy, of course, could've cared less about these matters as he sat by Rogue's sickbed, though he was hardly alone…
"Anyone want to tell Remy how his chere went to a C cup?" Remy was trying to contain himself, really he was, but after hearing scattered bits of the story, there was still so much that didn't make sense. Sinister's lab, her break-out and then bizarre break-down - and no Sinister to hunt, to make him pay, but whose fault really? He flexed his fingers, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Rogue's supine form.
"What?" Scott looked aghast, but hurriedly darted his eyes away from Rogue's cleavage. "Gambit this is hardly-"
Xavier leaned forward, interrupting. "Hmmm," his hands steepled. "What other changes do you notice?"
"Professor!"
Remy grasped for professionalism, cold detachment, like Xavier. So clinical…
"Remy undoubtedly can notice what we can not." Scott looked apoplectic, but when had that ever stopped Remy?
"Her hair's a bit longer than it used to," - only a week and a half ago, he realized - it seemed like an eternity, "past her shouldas. Her lips fuller, mais the angles of her face," by now Remy was musing aloud, categorizing the small features that seemed off, "sharper? An' Rogue's always been fit, but she be more slender - not so muscled." He paused. "An' Remy know better than to say, but she heavier too."
"I should refer with Hank…" Xavier mused, but it was obvious he'd already come to a conclusion.
Logan was the most impatient, arms crossed against the doorway, his most habitual place. He didn't trust the Thieves' any further than he could gut them. "What is it Chuck?"
Xavier sighed, feeling his head begin to bow. "I believe she's integrated the physical characteristics of whoever she absorbed."
"What do ya mean integrated? She's never-" Scott broke off, because obviously never no longer applied. Remy stared at his hands. His hands. If not for him and - Sinister…
"It's been over two days. The psyche has remained strong - I'm afraid the absorption was, is permanent."
"Oh God."
Remy bowed his head.
"What do you think happened? To the person-"
Remy's jaw tightened and his gloves began to glow ominously, but he managed to grit out, "Dat not discussed, not in dis room."
Respectfully, they left him there, slouched beside her bed.
o
The minutes ticked by. It was enough to make Remy miss the pristine white walls of the X-Men's Infirmary.
Almost.
His eyes roamed the rich linens, furnished by his grateful familie, decadent embroidery on the antique canopied King sized bed. Surrounded by the opulence of thieves past, Rogue is a pale waif, tiny in her dormant unnaturally still position on the bed. Like Snow White, cursed by the evil witch, but the Prince unable to wake her. His stomach turned.
He needed a break.
Pushing the door open, he was unsurprised to find Wolverine slouched against the wall opposite, Ororo at his side. He waved his pack of cigarettes and the older man gave a brief nod. Ororo nodded as well, giving the cigarettes a frown, but moving to take his place in the room. The room was an inner sanctum, no windows, no other exits - typically a Thieves' nightmare, but ideal for guarding something or someone.
She touched his sleeve though as she passed, a token of comfort that he couldn't help but savor.
He made his way silently out of the mansion to the old smoking banister, a rule enforced intermittently by Tante Mattie's presence, nodding to familiar faces on the way. None stopped him or spoke, merely following him with shadowed eyes.
The cigarette had barely touched his lip when he heard a faint footstep, a tentative step forward. He closed his eyes. It seemed like a lifetime since he'd memorized her step, her perfume - only ever for special occasions - twining in the air. He turned his head, but didn't move. The cigarette dangled from his hand.
"Remy," Belladonna said it easily, with worn familiarity colored by the sound of her homeplace. His homeplace.
"Whatcha doing here?" His eyes ran down her body checking for weapons and she gave a wry smile. With the new uneasy truce between the Guilds, apparently the new Assassin head had free passage.
"Got checked at de door Rems." She stepped out further, to lean against the antique railing, showing him her back. "I ain't heah t' claim y' head."
"Glad to see y' changed your mind," he bit out.
She closed her eyes - and despite everything, he couldn't help but see the lines of fatigue, grief, burden - she's hardly a damsel in distress, but he can't help but see…
Little girl, messy face, hair in disarray. The boys hissing insults, shoving her to the ground - small, thin leg lashed out and caught one in the chest, but there are too many.
Big blue eyes, so determined, yet glistening with bottled sheen.
He can't help but dive in, despite all street rules - don't get involved, all hommes watch de back jus' to know the perfect place t' knife it…
Her broad grin, "Merci."
And he is lost in her easy acceptance…
And he unfurled his empathy. He didn't mean to delve too deep, just bring a little comfort, but he must be rustier than he realized. Even his faint brush burst the dam and she folds.
"I've been angry for so long." She reaches for him and before he realizes what has happened, she is in his arms, streaming tears soaking into his shirt. Yet still her voice is so controlled. "So angry, leaving me. They died protecting me."
As I would've - He can't let her go so simply, but he can't hold her too close.
It seemed so long ago. It had been arranged, but they'd hardly been strangers. No one wanted to mess with him, with her - he'd turned to her when Etienne died, Gennie fallen from the Parisian tower, telling secrets in the dark as he lit up the room with the arc of his fingers. And she'd given her body, whispering a better future in his ear. But it wasn't enough, baring just enough of himself, too much -
And then the hatred in her eyes. "You ain't nothing but mutant scum."
And he'd shut away. He'd broken the rules, ain't no one goin' to look out f'yeh boy, see anyt'ing but de diable's eyes, and so of course, he'd paid. Nothing came without strings.
Until the lovely girl with her lovely untouchable skin…
"They're beautiful."
Belladonna is repugnant to him, but her sorrow mingles with his own. "Good t' get dat out, hein?" he fobs off humor. He doesn't hold her too tightly.
"Oh Rems, y' haven't changed," she pulls away with a faint smile and he feels the sudden urge to squash it. "I've clung to that awful night for so long…" but her eyes remained steady and calculating, distance, "We could still do it, tu sais." She is sober.
"Do what?" He doesn't want to know, but he can't believe she can actually say the words.
"Unite the guilds," she looks at him steadily, eying him up and he feels his stomach turn over. And yet, for a moment, Candra, "look at you, meant to bring peace..."
"I'm with the X-Men," he says, over-enunciating.
She hmms, doesn't disagree. "T'ink 'bout it Rems?" she traces a line on his chest, invisible bonds, before walking away. Once a T'ief…
So intimate…
Dieu, he needs a cigarette. He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly before cupping his hand to spark the light.
It was a flicker of motion in the corner of his eye - and his senses are high alert (being kidnapped from your own 'safe' house and then moved to a city that wanted you dead for years will do that) - his cigarette didn't even have time to hit the ground before the man was against the wall, a dimly glowing staff point at his neck.
Remy scanned the man. "Qui est-tu?" He was nondescript, average height, built, dark pants with a muted blue shirt. He put both hands up by his shoulders, giving a tight impression of an easy grin.
"A t'ief 'course." The accent was right, with the Nawlins drawl.
"Don't recognize you." A number of Thieves had slunk into the woods after the Tithe disaster and were just now slinking back, so it was plausible as to why he was creeping around, but Remy had known every Thief by footstep, let alone sight. The Tithe had attracted a few out-of-towners though…
"Bin a long t'ree years LeBeau."
It wasn't the half-sneer that bothered Remy - there were a number of thieves who, though wise enough not to dislike the ruling House, had no lost love for the erstwhile mutant exile.
The name was the give-away. Remy had a variety of nicknames, some of the more wiseass thieves even called him Prince, but no one called him by his last name. LeBeau was the household name - none addressed anyone but the Patriarch by it. Even an Assassin would know that.
He let a spiral of energy surge through the staff, narrowing his eyes. "Wrong ansa."
The snikt of metal announced Wolverine's arrival and he could practically hear the inquisitive sniff the feral gave. The instant growl confirmed his own suspicion.
"Mystique. Here to see your handiwork?"
Caught out, she shed the disguise like shaking off water, her dark blue skin blending in to the shadows. "I'm not sure as to what you're referring." Her eyes glowed and Remy suppressed the half-smug thought his own were way creepier than her gold.
"Chuck sorted that much out of Rogue's head," Remy's hold automatically tightened at her name. "You're right up there with Sinister on her hit list. Knew there was something off in the tunnel we found her." Her mind a mess of pain…
Her eyes glittered. "You don't appreciate the potential she has!"
Molten lava. That was how the anger erupted in him, balling and charging inside him. He pushed the staff deeper as his eyes misted over red. "Potential? You turned her over to Sinister because of her potential?"
She sneered at him. "As opposed to you?"
Wolverine stepped closer. "Let me handle this Gambit," he used the name deliberately. "Xavier's asking for you."
He could barely hear him over the roaring of his ears. Mystique started to look a little nervous as the wall behind her began to glow as well.
"Dis'll only take a moment," he gritted out.
"X-Men don't kill Gambit." A long minute - You haven't changed - then the staff returned to its normal silver sheen.
The exertion stole his attention and he missed her tensing, instead catching an acrobatic kick straight to the chest. Forced back, his staff goes wild, neatly catching one of Wolverine's ankles as Mystique flung herself over the railing.
She was gone with a splat and Remy swore creatively, before yelling into the night.
"Dis ain't over!"
o
It was a somber meeting in the X-Men's allotted quarters, an expansive double suite with multiple beds. Rahne and Ray slouched on one bed, looking vaguely unsettled, but no one else was sitting. Remy couldn't even stay stationary, pacing the floor despite Ororo's request for him to stand by her. Piotr didn't seem surprised.
"I've made contact with the psyche," Xavier started. "Her name is Carol Danvers. She works for the US Air Force, probably why S.H.I.E.L.D. has been all over Essex's lab since we left it and been trying to contact us. Carol was another of his subjects and she'd been in his hold, well, she wasn't sure how long. Her powers: flight, great strength and invulnerability, were suppressed upon her arrival by Scrambler. Her memories just prior to her absorption are indistinct - I can't be sure how exactly she and Rogue came in contact. It doesn't appear to have been one of Essex's," he couldn't help his hesitation, "experiments, though I did find a few psyches that apparently were."
"So are you going to get rid of them?" Scott demanded, tightly coiled in his strong arm standing stance.
"Scott, what I did after Rogue's first breakdown was extreme. Her mind cannot continually be 'purged' for all intents and purposes," Remy shuddered at the word, making another turn.
"Also, Carol can not simply be 'gotten rid of'. Rogue's body is altering itself to accommodate her powers on a permanent basis. Her mind has done likewise - Rogue is now literally double-minded. When Rogue first awoke, Carol was foremost. Apparently, they were still distinct from each other. However, Essex, as far as I can tell, tore down the wall between them - that is where you all came in," he gestured vaguely to Logan, Ororo and Scott. "Since then, the psyches have either been battling each other or functioning on some kind of jumbled semi-conscious state." The jargon went over most of their heads - Ray gave Rahne's shoulder a squeeze as she paled further. Ororo's eyes flicked over them, but she said nothing. "Actually, Remy I believe you reversed much of Essex's disruption."
"Quoi?" Remy froze, trying to work out if that was good news.
"When you tried to empathically soothe Rogue, you managed to gather most of her psyche back together." Remy frowned - sure hadn't seemed like it.
"But dat other femme was de one dat knocked Remy away."
Xavier steepled his hands. "It's a bit of a paradox. In one way, Carol is just as dominant as Rogue. In another sense, Rogue is still more fundamentally tied with her body - it's hers by nature. Because of this, she's more tied to her body - and her mind's exhaustion. At this point, that has been working in Carol's favor. When you helped draw Rogue back out from the chaos, Carol was also able to re-group, away from Rogue, and take control as Rogue was exhausted from the chaos. But Rogue's body can not be controlled by Carol indefinitely. Rogue physically can not stop fighting for control…" The discussion of Rogue as two people made Scott antsy and Logan himself even twitched.
"So what do we do?"
"If Rogue could control Carol, perhaps she could be suppressed," Remy's frown deepened, remembering Rogue's reluctance to lock the psyches away. "But that does not seem to be an option, so we must convince Carol to cooperate with Rogue."
"An' 'xactly gonna do dat?" Remy asked dryly, absently rubbing his chest where Rogue - Carol had shoved him.
Xavier sighed. "I'm not exactly sure yet. But you may be able to help…"
o
She was full-bodied with long flowing blonde hair, full lips and an air of authority. Practically the archetype of his type.
Remy hated her on sight.
With elegant disdain, she stepped through the opening Xavier provided into the bubble shield he'd created for himself and Remy, sealing it up after she was in. Below and around them there was a cacophony of colors, shapes and figures all thrown together. It was beyond chaos and Remy hated the fact he had to wonder how closely it might represent Rogue's regular mental life.
Xavier was talking, but Danvers' eye immediately snagged on him. He couldn't say he was surprised; their last 'meeting' hadn't been very civil.
"Why is he here?" she demanded, cutting Xavier off mid-sentence. "Surely you don't think he can simply charm me into acquiescence?"
"Don' worry. Gambit ain't got any desire t' charm you," he offered with a fake grin. She looked him over with disdain usually used for refuse found on the bottom of a shoe.
"Man-whore," she muttered.
"Bottle-blond bitch," he shot back.
"Wrong blond-wannabe, thief, that'd be your girlfriend gone wrong." Remy's eyes lit up.
"Please-" Xavier started, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted when the space beside Remy rippled. Carol blinked as a transparent form began to crystallize. It took another moment for it to become distinct as copy of Remy, right down to the outfit - until a second later it rippled outwardly, the jacket morphing into a dark T-shirt, followed by sweatpants.
"What the-"
"Crazy, domineering witch," Remy number 2 cut her off. He crossed his arms and the first Remy smirked as the other's clothes shifted again, this time changing color.
Xavier stared, but then hazarded, "You would be the psyche within Rogue?"
"Oui," he nodded, not taking his eyes off Carol, who was now frowning heavily. "Not nice to forget t' invite moi t'de party."
"Great, two of you," Carol's mouth twisted into a moue of disgust. "As if one of you wasn't enough to turn my stomach."
"More of Remy always be a good t'ing," both Remys chimed. "Besides," the first one continued, "he got just as much a right t'be here as y'-," the second segued "-mais y'don't see me tryin' to take over ma chere's body."
Carol's eyes narrowed. "You still have a body," she hissed. "She completely absorbed me. Everything - my powers, my mind, my soul - for all I know this is it and there's nothing left out there!" She flung out an arm.
Xavier cleared his throat. "We've contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. They've found your-you." His slip was hardly unnoticed and her eyes slitted.
"My body, you mean. My shell body."
"Whenever Rogue has absorbed-"
"-her victims-" Carol spat.
"-the person has always reawakened after a period of time," Xavier tried to placate.
"Not this time," she said cuttingly. "You don't think I can tell the difference between myself and those - shades," she said heatedly, intentionally gesturing towards the fluid form of Remy, now transitioning through various states of undress. Xavier cocked his head, but the static Remy just shrugged.
"She absorbed me plus temps." (a lot of times)
"I have no idea what she sees in you," Carol muttered, turning her eyes away. "I refuse to stay trapped in here," her voice heightened.
"Ms. Danver-"
"Y'ain't got a choice," the Remys said, matching outfits again.
"She took my body-"
"An' y'll take her life?" the stable Remy finished. "Don't work that way. Life ain't fair-if y'ain't noticed yet-and y'gotta deal wit' de hand y'dealt-even if it is 'cuz of dat rat bastard Sinister-y'can't take it out on Rogue, she better dan dat-she hates dat y'stuck in hea as much as y'do-" the two alternated.
"I don't care!"
"Y'gonna have t'start 'cuz you two be roommates now."
"You can't make me! No one can! She took away my life!" She spun around. "Do you hear me, Rogue?"
Xavier cut in. "Ms. Danvers, Carol, you can't just take control. You must cooperate with her. This is Rogue's body - she can't just stop possessing indefinitely. It'll destroy her mind."
For one very bitter moment, Remy thought she was going to say good. But she just pressed her lips together, still stubborn and firm.
He sighed loudly. "Look like I gonna have t'get comfortable." He sprawled on the floor, his doppelganger following suit.
Carol was caught off-guard. "What?" The two were wearing the same clothes again.
"Oh, Gambit gonna keep y'company," the other one replied. There was hardly difference now - they looked equally solid, even if not as full as Carol. "An' I be 'bout as joyeux 'bout it as y' so no complain'."
"What do you mean?" she asked warily.
"Gambit might justa made sure he bein' absorbed by Rogue while we talkin,'" he pulled out a playing deck from his pocket and began to shuffle.
Xavier's eyes widened in realization. "You placed your hand on her chest," he remembered aloud. "When she exhales, your fingers touch her flesh."
Carol looked horrified, then composed herself.
"You're bluffing thief. You wouldn't throw your life away just to annoy me and keep me from controlling Rogue."
Both Remys looked up from their game, mimicking poses as they fingered their cards. "A man will bet it all on love," the first finally said solemnly.
o
Logan stoically held the door open as Xavier wheeled himself out, Rogue's pinched face visible over his shoulder. Remy barely waited for him to clear the doorway before he was in, not needing his empathy to imagine how desperately his girlfriend needed comfort at the moment.
He easily insinuated himself against her in the bed, glad that beyond a tremor, she made no move to repel him. Instead, she laid her head against his chest and he stroked her hair. He wasn't sure how long they cuddled.
"How can yah-" it was verbal vomit and he tilted her head to meet his gaze with gloved fingers.
"Ain't not'ing changed chere," he continued, forestalling her protest, "not'ing dat really matters, hein?"
Her eyes are limpid, lacking their usual fire and he leans in for a reassuring kiss. Her skin tugs at him viciously and he pulls back a bit.
He's not prepared her choked gasp of breath or the look of dawning horror on her face.
"Chérie?"
"I can't turn it off," her voice was tight, thinly veneered over genuine panic. "I can't turn it off!" They stared at each other and then like a popped balloon, she depresses again. "No," she whispered, her eyes wide and disbelieving. She looked like she was about to be sick.
His shock delays his own reaction, but when he regains himself, she's gone, shuttered away - and his reassurance falls on deaf ears. She's curled into a ball and he can not venture beneath her skin.
Not anymore.