BENEATH THE SURFACE

Part Seven

*** as mentioned in previous chapter, mission in Germany isn't important, the only part that really counts is the distance between Rogue and Remy (don't flame for the shitty storyline surrounding the mission, lol). ***

Rogue stared out of the kitchen window of the cottage they were renting just outside of Munich, a dismal rain was drizzling down over the wooded area surrounding the back of the place. Rogue wasn't sure the word cottage was appropriate when it came to this place, as it looked far more like a manor. The inside was quaint, cottagey in a way, with panelled walls, oak cupboards, stone fireplaces and far too many patterns on the drapes, blankets and sheets.

She'd wondered why such an unusual place to use as a base but it had space to land the red-eye in a clearing in the woods at the back, and Hank had assured her it was ideal as a base as it was near enough everywhere they needed to get to while being out of the way enough that their operations wouldn't arouse any suspicions.

"It's rained for two days solid," Rogue muttered, she sighed and moved away from the window to go to the kitchen table where Kurt Wagner was sitting at his laptop, expression one of intense focus.

"Since when do you care about the weather?" asked Kurt, raising an eyebrow, his eyes never leaving his screen.

"Ah don't," she shrugged. She supposed she'd had to have something to say. She felt useless here, standing around, waiting for Hank to come up with solid leads.

"I thought you liked the rain."

"Sometimes..." she shrugged. "Where's Hank anyway?"

"We almost got caught hacking last night, he's gone to get a piece of hardware that's going to make it harder for us to be traced," Kurt shrugged; Rogue realised he wasn't going to go into explaining the technical jargon to her because by now he seemed to have realised she had very little head for it.

Rogue paced a little, she felt irritable and restless, she couldn't settle.

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked, raising his head, his silvery yellow eyes followed her from one end of the room to the other.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked, she stopped in her tracks, "Ah'm fine..."

"You're going to start wearing a trail through those tiles if you keep doing that," Kurt pointed out, "You've been like this for days..."

"Bit of an exaggeration," Rogue rolled her eyes, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her hooded top. Her thoughts drifted to Remy; he'd sounded strange when she'd called two days earlier. She couldn't fathom what it had been, something had been rather different about his voice, he'd sounded a little angry and frustrated, while at the same time there had been a little lingering sadness.

It wasn't just about the frustration of not being together. It was more, she wished he would just admit it. Was he getting annoyed being with the X-Men? Getting annoyed with not being able to go on missions?

You know what it's about...he's still not gotten over the fact that Jean-Luc died, Rogue decided. Her heart ached a little at the thought of Remy being hurt over it all. Her heart ached at the thought there seemed to be absolutely nothing she could do to help her poor husband.

My husband...husband, god it sounds so weird now that it's real, she thought dully. God, Ah hope Logan has an eye on him...hope that he's okay. Maybe Logan is the one Ah should be callin'...

"Rogue..."

"Hmm?"

"I said you seem preoccupied."

"Ah'm just...sick of standin' around here..." she grumbled. Yes...she was sick of standing around wondering if she'd been foolish to think distance would help Remy. She'd thought at the time it might help him focus on helping himself rather than worrying about their relationship. She'd thought it might give her peace of mind to get her own distance for a bit, that she'd be able to relax. Since she had come she had not been able to relax at all. It seemed ironic, really.

Damned if Ah do, damned if Ah don't, she realised miserably.

Rogue felt it necessary to elaborate her dilemma, to make something up just to justify her preoccupation further. "If we could just find these two guys, if there was somethin' Ah could do to help..." she sighed.

"You are helping," Kurt assured, although she could see how, other than offering suggestions every now and then, she offered very little.

Without meaning to, she blurted, "Ah just wish Ah could get away from this place."

"What's wrong with Germany?" asked Kurt, slightly offended.

"Nothin'..." Rogue replied quickly, she tried to force a smile. Except Remy isn't here, Ah can't keep an eye on him. "Germany is beautiful, Kurt," Rogue spoke up, "But here...it's so out of the way, there's nothin' to do here...there's nothin' Ah can do here to help with the search...you guys have it covered."

"You could always make me a sandwich," Kurt gave a dazzling fanged smile.

Rogue sighed, she supposed it was at least something vaguely helpful. While she was in the middle of making the sandwich, Kurt's phone went off and he picked it up while still in the midst of typing hastily into his laptop.

"Kitty, hi!" he answered the call, sounding bright and cheerful. He pushed a button to place the call onto speakerphone, and he placed the phone, "What is up?"

Kitty Pryde's voice replied a moment later, slightly crackling from the long distance and a poor connection, "hey – I got a result on that search you asked me to put into the system," she sounded just as irritatingly bright, "the police database had some info on the American in that gang, he goes by an Alias, I'm sending you his record right now. There's a property listed about fifty miles away from your location that he owns...it might be a lead, I don't know."

"Awesome," Kurt said enthusiastically, "that might be a huge break in locating our missing mutants."

Rogue stood spreading butter upon the slices of bread for Kurt's sandwich, she listened to the call.

"Is everything all right there?" Kurt asked casually, waiting for the email with the information Kitty was sending to arrive.

"Everything is fine," Kitty sighed, "I've been back a few days, it's already chaos here. Bobby is annoying the heck out of everyone right now. Oh, and Tabitha is back by the way."

Kurt paused, Rogue knew he had something of a crush on the girl; the crush had died out a little when Amanda had been around but Amanda and her family had moved halfway across the country and Kurt had heard very little of her since. Rogue supposed it was only fitting the boy would want to move on after being heartbroken over it.

"She is?" asked Kurt, his voice couldn't hide the enthusiasm at this news.

"Yeah, but, I don't know, she's calmed down a lot. She's not as crazy...I think she's grown up a little maybe. I swear though she's stealing my stuff..."

"What stuff?" Kurt asked.

"I've lost two shirts and a sweater...when I left I know they were in my closet, and now they're like so not," Kitty grumbled. "Either that, or it's the Thief in the house."

Rogue turned to look over her shoulder at Kurt who had paused to listen.

"The Thief?"

"You know...Gambit," Kitty retorted, "he's at the institute now."

"No one told me," Kurt announced, Rogue felt him gaze at her with something of a curious expression. She hadn't thought it important to mention, had assumed it might make her affection for the boy seem rather obvious. "So he's a thief?

"Yeah, I mean, that's what Lance always said he was. A professional thief"

"Why would Gambit want your clothes, Kitty?" Rogue asked, snapping a little. She wished that Kitty hadn't brought this up.

"Oh, Rogue!" Kitty said, suddenly sounding slightly surprised, "I didn't know you were there..."

"Gambit isn't a thief any more, Kitty," Rogue swallowed, trying to bite back her irritation, "and he's not a cross-dresser either."

"Wow, relax," Kitty gave a nervous laugh on the other end of the phone, "I was just making a joke. I'm a hundred and twenty percent certain it was Tabitha. I think I saw her wearing one of my necklaces too..."

Rogue drew her breath, she didn't force an apology, it seemed unfair for Kitty to be spreading gossip about Remy over the phone, it was unwarranted, and definitely the last thing the boy needed right now in his life.

"It's cool Tabitha is back, place has not been the same since she left," Kurt spoke up, trying to change the subject from the stolen items.

"I wouldn't be too enthusiastic about her return until you've checked to see what's missing from your room," Kitty teased.

Rogue spoke up, "How is Gambit settling?" she asked, hoping that the question seemed casual, as if she may be asking how the weather was.

"He seems okay I guess, he hasn't been around much. He's painting his room or something..."

Rogue supposed it was a good sign if he was painting his room, it meant that he intended to settle. If he was putting effort into making his surroundings nicer, then it was definitely a positive. "Is he trainin' yet?"

"Yeah, he's training with the New Mutants."

"Wow...he must hate that," Kurt commented, "those kids don't do anything seriously."

Rogue snorted, it was ironic that he should comment, at times Kurt could be something of a joker too in the Danger Room and it usually got him in trouble. She said nothing and listened to the call.

"I better go, I have to get to a training session with Logan, and you have some searching to do," Kitty announced, "if you need me for anything else, call me, let me know."

Kurt hung up the phone, a little smile playing about his face. Rogue recognised it as the same smile he used to have when Tabitha had been around the last few times. "How come you didn't mention that Tabitha is back?"

"Ah guess it's just...you know, she's back and forth so much it's the norm," Rogue shrugged, "Barely seems mentionin' these days."

"And Gambit?" Kurt seemed slightly confused, "You didn't say anything about that..."

"It didn't cross my mind," Rogue shrugged.

"It didn't cross your mind to tell us that one of the Brotherhood had come to live with us?" Kurt asked, a little laugh escaped his lips.

"He wasn't one of the Brotherhood, he was an Acolyte," she reminded, "And Ah just...Ah didn't think it would matter...he doesn't have those affiliations any more. Ah mean, you guys offered me a chance after Ah was with the Brotherhood so..." she trailed off.

"It's just weird is all."

"Why is it weird?"

"That he'd come back at all. I didn't think the X-Men were quite his thing."

"Ah have no idea what his thing is. Ah think he's tryin' to figure it out himself."

"I know I heard that you had gone to help him with some mission but no one said he was going to be coming back with you," Kurt admitted.

"Ah don't think he knew. It was a last minute thing...a sort of fancy he took Ah guess," Rogue forced a smirk, trying to seem almost whimsical about it, "he said to me 'what if I came back with you and joined'...and Ah thought he was jokin'. And then after we'd done in the Bayou, he asked if the offer was still open, he had no where better to be be, so...why not?"

"I just hope he can behave," Kurt mumbled.

"As if any of the rest of us at the institute know how to behave?" Rogue laughed a little, "that's what bein' young is about...misbehavin', mischief..."

"Yes, but...isn't Gambit older than us."

Rogue blinked, "he's my age..."

"Seriously? Man...I thought he was like twenty five..."

"No..." Rogue commented, "He sometimes acts like he is. Other than when he's bein' a baby," she muttered.

"Okay, the email got here, lets check this lead out."

"I want a word."

Remy LeBeau raised his head; he had been lying on his back stretched out on his bed looking at his iPhone, studying various motorbikes, trying to determine which the best Harley Davidson would be to buy. Logan had decided to come and interrupt that.

For the past few days he'd been feeling especially intruded on, as people kept sauntering into his room to ask if he wanted help with the repainting of his room (now he was going with a rather dingy grey colour which he'd found in the large shed in the grounds (he'd happened upon it while putting the lawnmower away). Something about Logan coming into his room left Remy feeling even more uncomfortable. Just as uncomfortable as he usually felt when he'd spy Jean-Luc in there.

"Yeah?" Remy asked, trying to sound casual, unaffected, unbothered.

"I've been watching you in the Danger Room," Logan said, standing by the door, arms folded, expression stern as it usually was.

"So?"

"You've been on the novice runs, and you've come out pretty all right. Your team work is...okay...it could use work, but the Professor thinks you're not being challenged enough," Logan explained. "You far surpass the others physically, your speed is exceptional, your reflexes, your quick thinking..."

"So?" Remy asked again, he sat up slowly.

"I'm thinking I need to assess you properly."

"Oh?" Remy was intrigued now, "What y' have in mind?"

"It's only been a few weeks, but the Professor sees a lot of potential. I know you want to train with the X-Men but until you prove that you have it in you to be focused, in both a team environment and that you're capable of handling yourself, we can't think about pushing you forward."

"So...what now?" Remy queried curiously.

"I want to put you into the Danger Room on your own, to evaluate whether you're ready or not to be moved onto the next level of training."

"Then I can train with the X-Men?"

"Depending on how you do," Logan supposed, "the X-Men are on an exceptionally high level of trainin' – I'm sure even you get that just one person not knowin' what they're doin' in a session could be dangerous for them."

"I know that," Remy responded. He wondered if that was why Tabitha had been moved back into the New Mutant's training sessions again for the meantime. She had a tendency to be rather...unfocused. He'd seen it himself yesterday when she'd showed up during their session, her attitude rather foul. If that last mission she'd been on was anything to go by, Remy could see it being a wise decision.

"Suit up," Logan turned to leave, "meet me in the Danger Room, ten minutes. Be alert, and be focused, be prepared for anything."

Remy waited until Logan was gone and wedged the door shut with a magazine (something he had taken to doing when he changed because he was still slightly uncomfortable with the idea of someone walking in – especially Logan). He changed, his mind drifting to Rogue. He'd tried sending a few texts to her since she'd called two days before but each text was returned with a 'your message was not received' warning. His phone calls wouldn't connect, he wasn't certain what he was doing wrong. He'd hoped by now she'd have text him to at least keep him updated on what was going on in Germany but so far nothing.

He'd heard Kitty mention something earlier that morning (something about going to do some research for the mission in Germany) but nothing had been mentioned about Rogue or what she might be doing or how she was.

Rogue was still in his thoughts as he made his way quickly down to the danger room after dressing. He missed her badly, the mission in Germany was taking far too long. She should have been there with him, not halfway around the world.

Logan should have gone there, not her, Remy thought dully as he left the elevator and moved to the Danger Room; the doors were open for him and he walked in, looking around.

"Okay...I'm here..." he called up to the control annex, "What y' want me to do."

"Be ready," said Logan over the speaker, "You won't know what's comin'. Eyes and ears, eyes and ears."

You can do this, show them what y' got, show them y' as capable as the rest, Remy told himself. There were times when he had to rely on his confidence, to tell himself he was better than he thought he was and this was one of those times. It didn't matter about any doubts he suddenly thought he may have, it didn't matter if Rogue wasn't there to cheer him on or to talk him through it. What mattered was he knew how to fake his way through almost anything and he could fake his way through this.

There was no warning. It started nearly the second the doors hissed shut. The holograms shifting from one thing to the next, collapsing terrains, Remy having to dart his way across gaping crack and splits in the earth, then he was dodging what looked like whirring razors; he dodged one so poorly at first that he was certain he lost a lock of his hair (in fact, he was positive he saw the feather like strands dancing through the air).

"Pay attention! This isn't a game!" warned Logan. "These things can and will hurt you!"

Almost embarrassed about the slip, Remy dodged, and twisted and parried with opponents that came out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly, robots that shot at him with lasers, they had deadly precision, him being almost burned (in fact he felt it graze his shoulder and burn through his uniform but he wouldn't let him stop him.

He was doing brilliantly; his focus was superb, just as he had told himself it would be.

And it was one thing that changed everything.

Opponents with the kind of powers Nightcrawer possessed were flitting in and out of his sight, slashing at him with katana like blades, he had to dodge and jump to avoid being hit; and then, one face flashed in front of him.

He hadn't expected to see Jean-Luc there, so close that he could almost feel and smell the alcohol on his breath. Remy staggered, falling backwards, losing his focus, Jean-Luc disappearing just as quickly as he had appeared. One of his opponents – this dark wispy shadow, almost robot-like slashed at him with a katana and Remy swung himself out of the way of it, he felt it slash his cheek. The blade came down again, this time Remy knew it was coming right at his neck and there was no way he could dodge it in time, it was too fast, and he was too thrown off thanks to Jean-Luc.

The Danger Room powered down almost immediately right then, holograms disappearing into a grainy sense of nothingness, and then the room was nothing but four steel walls and a very cold tiled steel floor.

Remy lay there for a moment on the floor, breathless, heart banging mercilessly like a snare drum so much that he could hear it in his ears.

"Gambit, are you all right?!" came a gasp; he felt a hand grabbing his shoulder, trying to lift him up a little. He turned to look into Ororo's soft face, her cool blue eyes examining the slash on his cheek.

"I'm fine..." he drew a breath shakily, "Los' my balance..."

"You're bleeding..." Ororo took a tissue from the pocket of her black pants and she pressed it against his cheek.

"Jus' a scratch," Remy gave a nervous laugh, trying to play it off.

"Come...the nearest medical kit is in the hallway," Ororo pulled him up slowly.

Remy glanced around the empty room, trying to hide his anxiety; Jean-Luc was nowhere in sight but he could still feel the bastard's presence strongly, clinging to him like tar to a roof. To try and play off his nerves a little more and the mistakes he'd made, he asked "How I do?"

As they got into the hallway, Logan met them, his expression dark, "what the heck was that?"

"What?"

"You were on form, you didn't miss a beat – you were doing great then...suddenly you panicked, lost focus..."

"I don' know what happened, I los' my balance," Remy shook his head, "think all the runnin' left me a little dizzy."

"If you can't do this..." began Logan, sounding slightly concerned.

"I can do this."

"Not for a while, you can't," Logan said, "you need more time, more practise."

Remy stood as Ororo wiped his cheek with an antiseptic swab, he winced at the stinging it left him with, "Y' know I'd be a good addition t' the team, don' let this one stupid thing-"

"That's right, LeBeau," Logan stood, arms folded, his brow furrowed, "one stupid thing. One stupid thing that in the field could be the difference between life or death. Yours or someone else."

Swinging his eyes away from the man, Remy felt furious, with Logan, with himself, and especially with Jean-Luc. It crossed his mind then to tell Logan what he'd seen, but he knew the kind of opinion it'd be met with. People who saw things like dead people were usually assumed to be insane or mediums. Remy knew the route that Logan would take if he should admit such things.

He'd find it a reason to keep him off the team. The less said about this, the better.

Remy tried to calm himself, tried to still the anger inside. If y' ignore it, it's got t' go away.

That didn't seem possible...he'd been trying to ignore it for weeks and it only seemed to be getting worse; every time he looked somewhere, there was Jean-Luc, hanging around, reminding him of the things that he didn't want to be reminded of.

Ororo checked the cut on Remy's face, "it is just a scratch – you were lucky..." she placed a bandaid on, Remy thought it was going to look more obvious than the slash itself.

Remy thought what was more lucky that she didn't seem to see the burn in his shoulder; the fabric of his uniform had melted a little from the laser, but he could feel the burn beneath. He didn't want to complain about it and he didn't want to have to strip down in front of Logan just to get it seen to. "It okay if I go?"

"We'll talk later," Logan said as Remy went to pass him.

"I'm sure we will," Remy muttered, wishing it hadn't sounded so cold.

All the way to his bedroom, Remy was cursing himself, cursing Jean-Luc, cursing Logan. He cursed the X-Men too, although it probably wasn't their fault. Most of all he cursed Rogue, because she wasn't there and he needed her here. In his room, he stripped down and threw his uniform angrily towards a trashcan (missing it entirely). As he dressed back into his shirt and pants he kept cursing himself for letting Jean-Luc blow his chance at getting onto the team. For a while he paced anxiously feeling like everything was falling apart. Rogue was gone, he was in the New Mutants, and his walls were still ugly. Furiously, he kicked the paint pot sitting on the dust sheet near the back wall of his room (the one he'd been painting last). As he kicked it, it tipped over and the lid, which he had neglected to put on properly, flipped off and the paint seeped out onto the dust sheet.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"What that paint pot ever do to you?"

Remy turned to look at Tabitha who was standing in his doorway looking slightly amused at his behaviour. He felt quite foolish then.

"You've got quite a temper, don't you?" Tabitha asked, walking in, she moved over to the paint pot and picked up slowly. "Let me guess...bad session?" she looked him up and down in his uniform.

He turned away from her stubbornly, "lost my focus."

"Yeah, I've...been there," she said lightly, she grabbed the rag he'd been wiping his hands on and tried to mop up the spilled grey paint.

Remy watched her, wondering for a moment just how there she had been. He tried to make sense of her intrusion instead, "is...there somethin' y' want?"

Tabitha ignored the question; with a bare finger she smeared the paint from the plastic dust sheet, examining it thoughtfully, "what was wrong with the red paint?" she asked, gazing up at the painted wall.

"Changed my mind."

"What about all that stuff about how red was the colour of energy and passion?" she laughed, it sounded slightly vague.

"Ain' got much of that in my life right now, not sure a few red walls is gon' make it happen," he shrugged.

Tabitha wiped her paint-smeared finger off on the rag and tossed it aside, "well...hiding in your room isn't going to make that happen either, Gambit..." she pointed out. Remy almost thought to point out to her that she was hiding just about as he was. He might have said something, might have snapped due to his frustration if there had not been an immediate interruption.

"There you are!"

Remy turned to the doorway, one of the other students who had recently returned – Amara Aquilla – stood there folded armed, her expression fiery. In fact, it almost seemed like her eyes were on fire a little.

"You took my jeans and I want them back," Amara hissed.

Tabitha chewed her lip, "I'm only borrowing them."

"I don't care! Every time you borrow stuff, it never comes back in the same condition it left in, and those jeans are Gucci! They cost a fortune!"

Remy stared at Tabitha up and down for a moment; it took him a moment to realise that nothing looked right on her. The jeans – far too tight on the girl - digging into her hips and belly. It also seemed to him the cardigan the girl was wearing was slightly smaller than it should have been; it was definitely not hers either (in fact, the colour looked like something he'd see Kitty Pryde wear). Far too 'pastel' for a girl like Tabitha Smith. Then there were the shoes she was wearing – he immediately realised they were Rogue's. His wife had been wearing when he had been in Louisiana with him; he recognised the slight drop of blood on the edge of the sole – it had been there since he'd accidentally elbowed her in the nose. God that moment brought so many unhappy memories, the entire thing was still too close to the bone.

"Look, I'll wash them and put them in your room tomorrow, okay?" Tabitha sighed.

"Now," Amara commanded snootily, and spun on her heel – a rather expensive looking one, Remy realised – and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

A heavy silence fell on the room, Tabitha sighed and walked over to the window, pulling the cord on the blinds and lifting them up so she could stare outside into the gardens.

"You came with nothin'," Remy said, his voice rather low. "Y' left y' home and came with nothin' but the clothes on y' back."

Tabitha lowered her head, Remy saw in her profile view that her left cheek seemed to go furious red, she frowned a little. "I didn't have a choice."

"Why didn' y' tell someone...?"

The blonde spun around to look at him almost accusingly, "would you?"

It was a ridiculous question. He supposed he wouldn't have, really. Instead...he'd have figured out a solution himself rather than admit to being in a bad situation. He'd grown so used to doing it since he was young that it hardly occurred to him any more that it might not be so easy for others. It struck him then that the day he'd taken her to the grocery store, she probably hadn't even had the money to pay for those groceries in the first place. He wondered if she'd intended to con him into buying them for her, or she'd have waited until they reached the checkout before admitting she was flat out broke.

Remy looked at his t-shirt with a sigh, he supposed other than a few small flecks of paint, which had dried, he looked acceptable enough to go out. "Fine...lets go."

"Go?" she asked, her expression somewhere between lost and hurt.

"T' the mall. T' buy y' some clothes so people get off y' back. I need t' get some things myself anyway..." he swept his hand through his hair tiredly.

"I can't afford to-"

"Don' worry 'bout it," Remy sighed, "I got funds."

"I can't let you do that..." Tabitha shook her head.

"But y' can steal Magma's Gucci jeans and Rogue's shoes?"

Tabitha dropped her eyes to her feet, "how did you know they were-"

"Only Rogue would wear shoes with skulls on the laces," he said quickly, trying to hide the fact he paid attention to these things, paid attention to Rogue more than Rogue would like him to admit to.

"Look, it's a nice gesture and all, but I can't pay you back, and the Professor isn't giving me a decent allowance until school starts, so-"

"It doesn't matter. Y' can pay later in favours."

"Favours?" her eyes widened. "What kind of favours?"

He realised that her mind immediately went to the kind of favours a man might expect a pretty young girl to use as currency. He felt foolish and more embarrassed than he usually did. "Y' can take over my chores f' the next few days. Especially the laundry...I fuckin' hate doin' it...and y' can help me finish paintin' this room..." he gestured.

"Really?" she seemed somewhat surprised.

"Really."

"You're sure it's okay?" she asked, she chewed her lip. Remy thought it funny, she'd never seemed the type to suddenly be so worried about taking advantage of someone else's kindnesses or money. But then...he'd been the same until coming here.

"It's fine. C' mon."

At first, the idea of going to the mall with Tabitha had been almost stomach churning; in the car (he borrowed Scott's car without permission, but luckily Scott was away on a mission with Jean and Logan so he'd never know hopefully) Tabitha had been sitting watching the mirrors, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity...watching that no one – such as her father – was following.

From store to store she'd be looking over her shoulder although Remy didn't sense that Tabitha's father was stalking them. Jean-Luc on the other hand he spied in the display window of a men's store they were passing. Remy had to look twice, feeling anxiety rising in his throat at the thought of Jean-Luc being there too. When he'd looked the second time at the display window, a mannequin had been in Jean-Luc's place, modelling a rather stylish grey jacket.

Instead of thinking about Jean-Luc, Remy tried to distract himself by thinking about how as of late he'd grown to detest shopping due to Rogue's complaining about how much he liked to spend. He always wondered why Rogue was so worried about money; it was as if she thought there was never going to be any more in the world.

Tabitha on the other hand, wasn't quite as anxious about money as Rogue was and had picked a fair few things without seeming to care much about the prices of them. She was somewhat slightly unrealistic about her size though. The poor girl had grown rather reluctant to admit having gained a few pounds and kept picking her old size out on racks then complaining about not being able to get the right fit, or them looking far too tight.

Remy watched her, she was stood in front of a full length mirror in a trendy clothing store, examining herself in an aviator style jacket. The jacket was more expensive than he had thought to spend on one item (it being somewhere in the region of a few hundred dollars), but he decided he wasn't going to fight her on this. The girl had nothing of her own other than perhaps one set of clothes. Rogue would have picked out about five outfits for that amount by now and probably been looking in a sale bin for shoes by now.

The thought of that made him miss Rogue more, even if she was a little bit of a penny-pincher. They would have not spent this long clothes shopping if Rogue had been here.

"It isn't closing," Tabitha sighed, the zip refusing to shut at the bust. "What is it with this place? Nothing fits."

"Maybe they're gettin' in sizes from elsewhere. Not labellin' them right," Remy shrugged, trying to play along with her self-denial. Nothing had fit properly in the last four stores, resulting in her having to either go a size up or look for the slightly more generous alternative. "Try the next size up."

Tabitha shrugged out of the jacket and handed him it to put back on the hanger, she turned to go find a larger size, sighing unhappily. "My dad used to take me clothes shopping," she said after a minute, expression slightly distant. "We'd go into stores where they didn't pin electronic tags on things...I'd go out wearing half the stuff I tried on. Layer things on...he'd be hitting on the shop girls to distract them and I'd walk right on out wearing stuff I hadn't paid for..." her lips curled into a strange almost bitter smile. "The only one time he ever really gave me anything..it was...it was a ring..."

Remy tilted his head, listening, feeling drawn in by her admissions.

"This stupid...dainty little sterling silver ring..." he dropped her eyes to her hand, "it's a real diamond...he said he bought it. I don't know if I believe that now..." she examined the ring in question, moving her hand thoughtfully, "that was after the first time."

His stomach churned a little, "the first time he did it..."

A diamond ring...and a minuscule one at that. Not much of a sorry for scarring your child for life. It almost made him so angry he wished he could hit something.

Tabitha drew her breath, "it's stupid...isn't it...accepting that ring. Payment for services rendered, daddy's little whore..." she chewed her lip. "He put it on my finger like he was proposing...took a minute to get it past my knuckle...and then it just...wouldn't come off. It never has..."

Remy wondered right then how she could be so blasé about it at that moment. He never could have admitted to things like that, not without being prodded and prodded and perhaps being drunk first. He wondered if he hadn't admitted to what he had a few days before, if she'd have said anything at all.

"Gimme y' hand..." Remy said, he reached out to her.

An expression of uncertainty painted on her pretty face, she gave him her small hand, he clasped his hand over hers, pressing his middle finger and thumb hard against the ring, covering it with his other as he focused all his kinetic energy into the ring.

Tabitha gasped a little, "what...what are you doing...?"

"Stay still...don' panic..."

"It's...it's getting hot...it's shaking..."

"Stay still..."

"Wha—ow!" she cried out; there was a strange loud pop, and then three small clinks as the ring fell to the floor in pieces. "That hurt..." she winced, rubbing her right hand ring finger, her cheeks red.

"It's gone...one less thing t' remind y' of what that asshole did," Remy muttered, he pushed the broken pieces of ring away with his toe, hiding them under a rack of clothes. "C' mon, lets finish pickin' out y' clothes so we can get out of this place."

End of Part Seven

Weee, two updates in one day, I'm on a roll. Mmm...roll...preferably with bacon on it...okay, this diet is driving me mad. Anywayyyyyyyyyy.

A few more little revelations, a little more drama (not too much angst hopefully). Don't pick at me for Gambit's new astounding power of blowing up rings on people's fingers...I don't pick at you guys when you write Rogue suddenly gets control of her powers in one day, lol. I doubt Gambit could actually blow up a ring on someone's finger without blowing the finger off too, but this is fiction people, fiction. Lol.