Chapter Fifty-One:


God, it's been a long day...

Sighing, Rogue closed her eyes and sunk lower into the lavender scented bubbles cascading over her, and rested her head back against the soft bath pillow that was affixed to the back of the bathtub, letting herself relax.

It had been a fairly busy day, which wasn't unusual for life in New Orleans, much less in the Thieves Guild, but it had left her exhausted. She had woken up early to brave the crowded mall with Tessa in order to find some last minute presents for Jacques, who was turning two tomorrow. It was hard to believe that it had been two years since Henri and Mercy's son had been born, but her nephew was already walking and talking, proving to be as adorable as Henri was in his youth, and just as mischievous, as well.

After they'd gotten the toys on Mercy's list, the two women had done some errands of their own, which included stopping by the market to pick up fresh bread and jam for Tante Mattie, as well as going to see Genard Alouette on Jean-Luc's behalf.

Genard Alouette was a member of the Thieves Guild, and his job was to sell the loot brought in from various jobs the thieves pulled. His official title was "Harvest Disseminator", but Rogue preferred to call him a pawn dealer, and it amused her to see the man get miffed whenever she called him that. Today they had just been sent to him to collect the money made off of a rather large ruby that had been placed in his possession for selling less than a week ago. Already he'd found a buyer and completed the deal, and Rogue had to admit she was impressed.

By the time they'd gotten home, arms heavy with shopping bags, Remy and the boys had already left for their latest heist. Since they wouldn't be back until much later in the evening, Rogue had hurriedly put away the shopping bags, hiding the presents on the top shelf of her closet where Jacques couldn't find them, and then come back down to the kitchen to give Tante Mattie a hand with dinner since the older woman was trying to cook the evening meal and bake a birthday cake for Jacques at the same time.

Sometimes Mattie kind o' reminds me o' Ororo, Rogue thought, a sad smile flickering across her lips. She remembered Ororo rushing around the house trying to make birthdays special for the kids at the Institute, and, even though Rogue had never wanted her birthday to be a big deal, knowing that Ororo had gone through so much trouble to make it special had always meant a lot to her.

She only wished she'd gotten the chance to tell Storm that.

As painful as loosing the X-men had been, it taught her to never take the people she loved for granted, and it made her all the more appreciative of the family she had in New Orleans. At dinner it had just been her, Mercy, Jean-Luc, Mattie and little Jacques, since Remy, Henri and Emil's chairs were empty, but the dining room had been filled with laughter and smiles anyway. While the adults had talked about all sorts of things, Jacques had taken to kicking Rogue's foot playfully under the table, a habit he'd no doubt picked up from Remy and Emil. Rogue hadn't minded, though, and had tapped his foot back a few times, earning a delighted giggle from her nephew.

He's such a precious li'l thing, Rogue thought with a smile. Those big blue eyes, that charming li'l grin... he's gonna be a heartbreaker jus' like his daddy when he grows up.

After dinner Mercy had given Mattie a hand with the dishes, so Rogue and Jean-Luc entertained Jacques, whose laughter had echoed through the house, making both his aunt and grandfather smile. Remy had told her once that Jacques looked like a very young Etienne, and, having since pictures of Theo's fallen brother, Rogue was inclined to agree. She knew the pain of Etienne's death still haunted Remy, in the place inside of her that was Remy it haunted her, too, as so many tragedies experienced by others that she had touched did.

She had Scott's memories of the plane crash that killed his parents, Mystique's memories of being harassed and tormented because of her appearance, Lance's memories of abuse in the foster care program, Wanda's memories of spending years locked away in an asylum. All of them were disturbing memories, ones that she kept locked away in the very farthest corners of her mind, but the most horrifying memory that she possessed was one of Magneto's.

The first time that she had absorbed him, she'd had nightmares for a week about concentration camps and gas chambers, waking up in a cold sweat and screaming uncontrollably. Kitty had ended up sleeping in Jean's room for a few nights, just so that she could actually get some sleep.

Maybe that was part of the reason that Rogue had never been able to look at Magneto in the same light after that first encounter. Until then he'd just been the enemy, but after seeing his own personal demons, after having them become her own, she couldn't find it in her heart to hate him. If anything, she understood him better because of it.

Yo' afraid, Magnus, she thought grimly. Yo' afraid that it's all gonna happen again, t' mutants this time.

The thing was, in the deepest part of her heart, where she kept fears that she didn't even voice to herself, Rogue was scared that he might be right. It had been several years since the world learned of the existence of mutants, and every day it seemed as if the situation got worse.

Henry Gyrich, one of the members of the National Security Council, was pushing for mutant registration laws to be passed, and had approved the activities of Boliver Trask and his anti-mutant army. Not only that, but he had been the one to introduce Trask to William Stryker, a man just as determined, if not more so, to wipe out the mutant race as Trask himself.

Needless to say, Project: Wideawake was becoming a serious threat.

An' with tension as high as it is, she thought darkly. It's only a matter o' time b'fore somethin' snaps an' it all comes apart.

This was a subject that had been coming up more and more in the LeBeau household as of late, and though no one said it, Rogue knew that everyone was worried. Not that she could blame them, she was concerned, too. The majority of the world was fearful of mutants, and that fear was quickly growing into hatred.

And Magneto certainly wasn't helping matters.

If she didn't know him, not the mutant terrorist but the man beneath the helmet, she would have been amazed that he continued to evade capture, but as it was she couldn't say that she was surprised, nor was she disappointed. She might not agree with his methods or his ideals, but she had seen into the heart of Erik Lensherr and she rather liked what she saw.

Of course, she still thought he was wrong, and every time there was a piece on the news about some sabotage attack that he was suspected of, or the rallying number of mutants sympathetic with his cause, it broke her heart to see that he was proving Trask and the others right.

The militaries of just about every country in the world now had a warrant out for his arrest, and the U.N. had labeled him an official enemy of world peace, but they had yet to catch him. They hadn't even come close.

If the X-men had still existed, they might have gone after them, but they were gone, and as it was Rogue didn't see the point in pursuing him, especially when he was always in and out of his missions so quickly that by the time anyone knew what was happening he and the Acolytes were already gone.

Sighing in frustration, Rogue was about to sink all the way under the water, submerging her head, when she heard the sound of the front door of the suite opening. Pushing aside all of the stressful worries plaguing her mind, she stood and stepped out onto the mat on the floor, reaching for her bathrobe and slipping it, tying the string around her waist before leaving the bathroom.

Remy was just dropping down onto the couch when she entered the living room, and he offered her a tired smile when he spotted her. "Hey dere, chere," he called as she drew closer. "Y' have a good day?"

"Yeah," Rogue replied, giving him a quick kiss as she set down beside him. "Ah did. How about ya? Things go okay t'night?"

"Oui," Remy nodded with a yawn. "Everyt'ing's fine."

"Good," Rogue said, scooting closer so that she could rub his shoulders. "Ah'm glad t' hear it. Tessa an' Ah got the last o' Jacques' presents t'day. Did ya remember t' wrap our gift t' him?"

"Non," Remy mumbled, his eyes closed as he moaned softly under her ministrations. "Fo'got t' do it. Don' worry, de kid don' like wrappin' paper anyway..."

Rogue rolled her eyes, but chose not to argue with him. He was obviously exhausted, and he did have a point. Jacques would just shred the paper to pieces once they gave him the present, so why bother?

"Anyt'ing interestin' happen while I was gone?"

"Not much," Rogue replied, kneading his shoulders with her small fists. "Mattie baked a cake, Bella called t' say that she an' Theo will be by in the mornin' in time t' celebrate wit' the family."

"Dat's nice," Remy murmured sleepily.

"Jacques said his first curse word," Rogue announced.

This caused Remy to open his eyes. "Really?" Rogue nodded. "What he say?"

"He said damn," Rogue informed him with a smirk. "In French."

Remy's face paled. "Mercy's gon' kill me."

"Yeah," Rogue agree with a laugh. "Ah reckon she is."

"Yo' jus' gon' have t' protect me den, chere," Remy yawned again, draping his arm around her and pulling her close to snuggle against him.

"How much ya gonna pay me?" Rogue teased.

"Drôle, chere," Remy murmured, his eyes closing as he began to drift off to sleep. "Drôle."

Rogue smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, picking up the remote control for the television. She was about to turn it on when suddenly Remy's eyes opened, and he gave her an appraising glance, his red-on-black eyes narrowed intently.

"What are y' wearin' under dere?" he asked, eyeing her robe.

Rogue grinned wickedly, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Merde," Remy breathed, forgetting all about the sleep he'd wanted only moments before.


Translations:

Drôle- funny
Merde- shit