"Kyle …"

It was dark.

"Mon ami. It is past time you be up and around for this mission of ours."

I opened my eyes up and Remy was grinning down at me.

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. "How on Earth can you be so darn energetic at this hour?"

"Practice, mon ami. A proper thief must know when to seize the right moment. If we are to liberate this Blythe we must do it when they least expect it."

I rubbed my eyes. "All right. Do we have time for breakfast or are we supposed to eat and run?"

"The sooner you get ready, the sooner we can begin." Remy was smiling—I don't think I had seen him entirely serious since I met him—but I could sense a level of professionalism about him that I hadn't encountered before. This was Gambit on a mission.

I ran—okay, stumbled—into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, doing my best to avoid the sight of my reflected scars in the mirror. If I were going to die I wanted to make sure that I did so with minty fresh breath. The shower was colder than I liked but I didn't want to waste time waiting for it to heat up. As Remy said, the sooner we started the sooner it'd be over.

And I did not want to think about the risks of what we would be facing. I had prepared my magic as best I could—but Wolverine had shown me quite convincingly that magic wasn't enough to guarantee my safety. I could still die.

If the Lady would permit it.

When I came out wearing a towel, Rogue was there to greet me.

"Where's Remy?" I asked her in confusion, acutely aware of how naked I was.

"He went to grab us some breakfast up before we leave." Rogue smiled at me. "Ah must say, sugah, Ah like what Ah'm seeing."

I blushed.

I wasn't used to this. Wasn't used to being looked at like this. I had spent most of my life learning how to go about unnoticed (good things seldom happened for me when someone did notice me.) But now … Rogue was looking at me in a way that I had never experienced before

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Though I think I had better dressed. It's hard to work magic when you're holding a towel up with one hand."

"Ah'm not stopping you, sugah."

"You kinda are. Not really big on putting clothes on in front of a beautiful woman."

"But you'd have no problem taking them off?"

"Depending on the circumstance, maybe." I looked for my clothing. I hadn't come to the X-Mansion (get it; X-Mansion?) with a lot—heck, I didn't have a lot of anything period these days—but I was sure I still had at least one pair of clean underwear left.

"Ah got you something, sugah." Rogue stepped aside so I could see the bed.

There was a wrapped package on it.

"Go on. Open it."

"Okay. Thanks." I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea that she had gotten me something. Gifts implied … obligation? I opened the package up. "My own clothes? Thanks."

"Not exactly, sugah. They're duplicates made of something called 'unstable molecules.'"

"You're kidding."

"No Ah'm not. It's something Reed Richards came up with. You've heard of him, right?"

"Yeah. Tall guy. Likes to use big words and has a really hot wife, right?"

"Y"all think Sue Richards is hot?" She gave me a look of mock disappointment. "Ah thought you had taste, Kyle."

"Hot in a Mrs. Brady kind of way?"

"That's even worse. Ah suggest you stop while you're ahead, Kyle."

I scooped up the clothes and headed for the bathroom. "So what was the occasion?" I was surprised at how well the clothing fit. They didn't feel like my clothes somehow—and these fit my new, more slender build.

"The clothing is a bit tougher than normal cloth. It won't make you bulletproof but it can turn aside a blade and protect you from fire and electricity. Ah thought that'd be a good idea."

"Appreciate it. Thanks."

"If you stay, it's a welcome to the team gift. If you leave, it's a farewell present. Either way, Ah'm covered." She was wearing a thick green bodysuit and heavy green gloves now. She reached out with a gloved hand and took one of mine. "Let's go, sugah."

I took her hand in mine. "Just because you bought me clothes doesn't mean I'm going to put out."

Rogue laughed. "Ah love it when they play hard to get."

I squeezed her hand. What the hell was going on here? I knew there was no future here—knew there was no future with Rogue. Why was she doing this to me?

Why was she doing this to herself?

What was I doing to myself?

We made our way down to the kitchen. The mansion was mostly dark—by the clock it was just three in the morning. I could smell coffee brewing in the kitchen.

Remy was there, and to my surprise so was Scott.

The leader of the X-Men was wearing his uniform, but his mask was still pulled down. He looked impossibly awake for someone up at three a.m. "Kyle."

"Scott."

"Rocky!" Henry McCoy—the Beast—bounded out of the kitchen, balancing a tray of food on one oversized paw. "Sorry. I could not resist the moment. Have a pancake, Kyle."

"Can I have a plate too?"

"But of course, mon ami." Remy sauntered out of the kitchen. He was wearing an apron over his trench coat. "Remy make the best pancakes in all of New York."

"Really?"

"They are very good," Henry told me.

"Thief. Hero. Maker of pancakes. Truly you are a Renaissance man, Remy."

"Gambit's talents are endless, mon ami." Remy flashed a grin at me. "Now eat up. We must soon be on our way."

"You understand the plan?" Scott asked me.

"I think so. I cast the wards to prevent Blythe's powers from affecting the team. You pilot the jet to get us near the coordinates of the X-Terminators aerial headquarters that Blythe gave Rogue. Rogue uses the knowledge Blythe gave her to get us inside. Gambit uses his skills to get us to Blythe. Henry uses his scientific knowhow to free her from whatever is holding her captive and then we make a break for it with her. Do you have maple syrup?"

"I would rather not have an untrained civilian on this mission, Kyle. Are you positive you won't just stay in the jet?"

In truth, that was sounding better all the time, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. "No way. These wards are a bear to cast and I want to be there in case something goes wrong. And Blythe asked for me specifically. It could be that her cage—whatever it is—can't be broken by a mutant."

"This could still be a rather complicated stratagem for the express purpose of luring you into a trap, young sorcerer. And call me Hank."

"Anything is possible, Henry. Hank. It just doesn't make sense to me. I mean, they just met me."

Rogue paused. "Kyle, there's something you should know."

"I always get nervous when people say that."

"Blythe could be from the future."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The outfit she was wearing when we met her? That was a Hound's outfit." Rogue looked over at the others as though she wanted one of them to continue the explanation, but Remy gestured at her with his hand for her to continue. "The X-Men have encountered people from the future—several futures maybe—one of our members was a daughter of Scott's named Rachel."

I glanced over at Scott and saw the leader of the X-Men wince slight. His lips twitched but he said nothing.

"Rachel was a Hound."

"Scott's daughter was a dog?"

Remy stifled a laugh.

"No," Scott said in a harsh voce. "She was a slave. In that future humanity enslaved humanity and used some mutants as trackers, hunters—they hunted down their fellow mutants."

I thought about that for a moment. I looked over at him. "I'm sorry, Scott. Is she-?"

"She's gone now." He covered his face with his hands. "It's a long story, Kyle."

"The point is, sugah—these X-Terminators may know all about you by now. They may have records that tell them exactly who you are and what you can do. You may even be what they've wanted all along."

There was only one thing I could say to something like that.

"I'd like another pancake please …"