Rogue was surprised how Gambit had found an open pizza restaurant in the middle of nowhere and it was actually delicious. At times like these, she kind of felt a little homesick because her Aunt Carrie made the best pizzas she had ever eaten, even though it was no southern food at all, but she added some shrimp and some spices that made it look southern and it was one of the things that she craved since coming to New York.

Thus, she lifted the whole slice and took a big bite and realized that she was way hungrier than she had thought. Thinking she probably looked like a savage, she grabbed a napkin and wiped the tomato sauce on her lip and gave him a sheepish look.

Looking amused at her eagerness, he grabbed a slice and mimicked her eating. Although he wasn't that hungry to begin with, it would be still nice to show her some familiarity. He chose the seafood special as she ordered a Mediterranean vegetable one and she kept glancing towards his better looking pizza with interest. He flashed her a grin and cut a slice with his knife, putting his slice on her plate as she objected.

"Oh, you don't have to," she protested, her mouth full.

"Oui," he shrugged. "Mais, I want t'."

She gave him a soft smile and took a bite of his pizza, letting out a satisfied moan as her tongue tasted all the mixed flavors in her mouth. "Now," she said, eyes closed momentarily. He couldn't help but note the melody somewhere in his mind. "That is what Ah call a pizza."

He smirked before drifting off to wander how she would sound like if it was him –not the pizza that gave her that pleasure and shook his head to get rid of the dirty thoughts. "I didn't wanna say anythin' but plain veggies on pizza, p'tite?"

"But it's nice," she gave him a pout, her ungloved finger wiped the sauce from her bottom lip and licked the finger slowly. "Yours is just undoubtedly better."

Merde, she had no idea what she was doing to him.

Looking at her full pouty lips, he licked his lips as a series of unspoken things that he wanted to do with that mouth pictured in his mind. Her white streaks were falling down her cheekbones, framing her beautiful face. She had the kind of eyes and the look that made every men turn to check her out again, she looked so naïvely stunning, yet she was deadly and dangerous.

Such a delicious combination.

He frowned at that, why was he unable to contain his thoughts? Sure he was a man with primal needs, but he had to act and think better if they were going to work together and he really needed her to work beside him. Not to mention, he knew better than to get involved with partner in crimes. Nothing good ever came out of it and he ought to know it.

"Gambit?"

Crimson irises on black blinked blankly, was she talking all these time? Shaking his head, he leaned back and offered her a soft smile. "Desolé," he said, taking a sip from his coke. "Y' were sayin'?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his drifting off, but remained nonchalant. "Thanks for the dinner," she said, also taking a sip from hers. "Ah would've paid, but you know, Ah was robbed."

He let out a delighted laugh, it was loud and genuine that made the couple on the next table look at them with questioning looks. "Don't mention it, chére," he shook his head, a grin on his lips. "What kinda gentleman would I be if I let y' pay?"

She did actually roll her eyes at his smugness, he had thrown her stuff away after all. That probably meant he was going to finance everything for the big plan, didn't it? Because she sure wasn't going to take a loan from the bank or ask a friend to borrow some cash to go on a fucking heist.

"Ah need clothes," she pointed out bluntly, then biting her bottom lip out of her outburst. "Y' did actually messed up mines," she added, pointing out the holes in her blouse.

"Oui, y' do," he gave her a nod, a mischievous look appearing on his face. They both probably thought of different things to dress her in. Rogue folded her arms as he grabbed a peck of cards from his pocket, casually playing with them in his hands. "We'll take care of it."

Taking a sip from her drink, she eyed him carefully. There was so much to talk about, she had so much to ask but she was enjoying the little silences now, it was peaceful not thinking about anything. Letting herself free from many things seemed to ease her mind a little, like she was floating on the surface while calming waves lifted her body. She had always been running and come to think of it, maybe Xavier's was just a stop on the road, who knew.

He was switching the cards from one hand to another like a professional, she couldn't help but stare at the hypnotizing gesture. It seemed like a soothing manner for him, he was staring at her but his mind was somewhere else obviously. Then he put the cards back in his pocket and grabbed a cigarette instead, his ungloved index finger lightly touching the tip of the cigarette, it burned a light magenta and the smoke began to come out, he inhaled it slowly.

Rogue cocked her aside, her palm resting on her cheek. "How did ya learn?" she asked, her emerald eyes fuming with interest, a questioning look on her face.

His red irises found hers as he gave her a soft sigh, thinking. "It wasn't easy, p'tite, nothin' beautiful ever comes easy," he began, the look on his face darkened. "I was an enfant when m' powers manifested, began blowin' things up. I hurt m' famille, too. Denyin' y' mutation is the worst y' can do t' yourself," he addressed. "I was in denial, wore gloves an' shit, still it got worse when I avoided learnin' t' control."

"Ah'm not avoidin'," she frowned, face resting on her palm. "There's just… not much Ah can do 'bout it."

"There's always somethin'," he cut off, shaking his head. "Y' are avoidin' direct contact and if y' wanna learn how t' control y' powers, y' have to touch."

"But Ah don't wanna hurt anyone."

He nodded his head, looking considerate. "Eh, what's a few naps before y' learn? I'm willin' t' participate," he added with a grin. "More other things if y' down."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Hush, swamp rat," she put her face in her hands. "These naps you're talkin' about are called comatose and you're in the minority who don't fall into a three day coma right away when my skin touches yours."

"I told y', p'tite, always been lucky."

"Ah'm serious, Gambit."

"Call me Remy," he flashed her a genuine smile and leaned towards the table. "Don't really have an explanation for wakin' up that soon, maybe I'm a fast healer or kinda resistant t' your mutation. But we'll have t' try and see," he gave her a nod. "How many hours did y' say the coma usually lasts for?"

"Depends," she said, arms folded and feeling uneasy about the conversation. "Put my boyfriend in a coma for three weeks and it was just a kiss," she began, looking down. "Others usually lasted for a couple of hours to a few days."

He gave her a whistle. "Chére, it must've been a hell of a kiss," he said, offering a playful smile.

She frowned. "Don't joke about it, Gam-" she stopped, rethinking of what he said and added. "Remy, it was awful, it still is."

"Desolé, p'tite," Remy tried again, reaching out for her gloved hand. She nearly jumped at the first contact but slowly adjusted to his warmth through the leather. "He was a mutant, non?" he asked, referring to her old boyfriend who was put into a coma.

"No," she blinked, eyes darting off to recall her memories. "He was the quarterback, the golden boy everyone admired. Honestly, Ah don't know how Ah would be doin' if he never woke up. Ah know Ah didn't mean to do it, but still he has every right to hate me."

His hand tightened around hers, his thumb drawing circles on her palm. "It wasn't y' fault," he began sincerely. "We all deal with our démones, yours is just a little harder than t' rest."

She sighed deeply, her green eyes rested on their hands. "But it gets exhausting," she said and took a deep breath to calm herself. It wasn't like she was going to cry her heart out, but she was talking about one of her major traumas and it wasn't easy to talk about, let alone, with a stranger she met at the bar. Her stare found his and cocked her head aside when she realized the similar darkening of his red irises. He had suffered, too, maybe more in comparison to her and she realized that he understood.

"Oui," he said softly. "That's why y' gonna have t' learn. How 'bout we begin tonight?"

She blinked blankly at him, a questioning look on her face. "What, tonight?" she bit her bottom lip, slowly taking her hand back. "Okay Ah guess, if you're still interested after all this."

A faint grin appeared on his lips. "We made a deal, chére," he said, leaning back. "I'll do m' part of the biddin', don't worry. B'sides, told y' I'm a fast healer."

Sighing, she nodded her head. Even though she wasn't showing it much, she was nearly dying with excitement. Well, both excitement and thrill –that she didn't want to hurt him, but his point was remarkable, as long as she was avoiding to touch anyone, she wasn't going to learn anything. But still, his claim to teach her how to control her powers within five days was still insane.

Things were starting to have patterns between them, Remy would flirt with whomever like the cashier or the waitress and leave the place with a few torn papers with some phone numbers written on it, he would act as if nothing ever happened. She would just watch in bewilderment, how was he so lucky to get all these attention? Surely he was a charming and devilishly handsome man, but as a woman, she had never been so up and front with how she felt. Maybe that was due to her powers, but still, watching all these women throw themselves at him was just strange for her.

And strangely, he never called them back.

On their way back to the hotel, they walked past some liqueur store and he insisted on getting a bottle of bourbon, saying that would help ease her tenseness a little. She argued about not being tense, which he strongly disagreed. He also walked into a super market to buy some Redbull, a couple of bananas and some chocolate –such an odd guy, she noted.

Back in the room, he grabbed two whiskey glasses and poured some bourbon, offering her. She was chewing on her bottom lip anxiously and it didn't take a professional to diagnose that. She needed to be calm before doing the touching or it would be just a zap and he would go to sleep.

Rogue drank from her drink as she made herself comfortable on the bed. Her body was aching from all the fighting she had to put up with Remy and her hand touched the fabric of her turtleneck which had holes on it. She wanted nothing more than to actually curl up and sleep, but she wasn't going to turn down the offer that was brought up in a silver plate.

Offering her a reassuring smile, he placed himself on the edge and sat down with the remote on his hand, turning on the television. There was one of the Fast and Furious saga on some channel and he made a cheerful sound. Rogue focused herself on the movie, taking faster turns on the bourbon. "You know," she began, eyes not leaving the television. "This is by far one of the strangest things Ah've ever done in m' life."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't do one night stands?"

"This isn't that!" She protested, looking absolutely horrified as she put the glass down.

"Desolé," he looked at her with a playful grin. "Hotel rooms and strangers remind me of such."

"Filthy swamp snake," she narrowed her eyes at him. "Ah'm talkin' about this whole thing, agreein' to be in your plan, trustin' someone who had just kidnapped me and learnin' to control my powers. This is a little overwhelmin', don't ya think?"

"Relax, chére, these are mon expertise."

They stared at the screen for a long time, until their first round of drinks were finished. He poured the second ones and kept on watching the movie for a little while more, until he leaned against the bed frame and looked at her. "Come on," he said, head rest against the frame. "Let's do this."

Rogue blinked heavily and let out a long sigh as she removed the glove on her right hand, her body positioning towards him. "Here goes nothin'," she raised her palm and by the time she was about to touch him, his half gloved hand caught her wrist through her long sleeved blouse. She looked puzzled as he stared into her eyes.

"Non," he said, slowly lowering her hand back to her lap. "Y' have t' change your mentality. If y' think like this from the beginnin', y' will achieve nothin', p'tite."

"But-"

"Y' are focusin' on the hurtin'," he explained softly. "Y' brain must be screamin' not t' hurt me loud and clear, but y' are still focused on the pull, whereas it should be on the touch."

"But Ah don't know how."

"Chére," Remy began, taking her gloved hand in his. "Remember how y' used t' touch people before your mutation manifested or when y' got the cure. Y' need t' focus on the feeling when y' touch someone. Imagine how y' feel."

She bit her bottom lip, thinking deeply as his fingers played on her hand. "Ah guess it's the explorin' for me, every time Ah touch someone it's like tryin' to find your way on a map."

"A map," he said approvingly. "Bien, let's imagine this as a map for y'," he raised his free hand and offered her. "I want y' t' touch it with y' bare hand and focus on the map only, not about the pull or me going t' sleep, none of it."

Rogue took a deep breath and watched as he removed his glove, putting it as an offering in front of her. Slowly, she reached out and her fingertips brushed on top of his hand, it was smooth but not soft. She blinked, her emerald eyes focused on their bare hands as his crimson irises were focused on her face, studying with great interest. It was not more than five seconds, she looked up and saw his intense stare, stunned by the fact he was not zapped just yet –then she felt the pull, he sucked in his breath momentarily before she pulled her hand away.

"Are you okay?"

Remy closed his eyes, gathering his thought. Yeah, he was okay, she felt the upcoming pull and she pulled away –which could be something to work on. Giving her a nod along with a soft curve of his lips, he stretched his arms above his head and reached out again. "Come on, p'tite, y' gotta do better."

"What," she blinked. "You wanna do it again?"

He let a smirk play on his lips and actually wondered what kind of help she had gotten previously meeting him. "Y' know what teachin' means, hein? It's not happenin' if y' not learnin'," he shook his head. "'B'sides, I got lots of energy. It was barely an itch."

An itch? Okay, then.

She closed her eyes shut first, then opened them, took a breath and lifted her hand to touch his. This time, her fingertips brushed his palm and she frowned when she felt that the surface that was supposed to be soft, was actually scarred. Her curiosity got the best of her as she let her fingers explore the tissue, wondering what might have happened to cause the damage. His red on black eyes were shining with intensity, trying to read her thoughts through her face.

He closed his palm then, his long and skilled fingers trapping hers in an elegant hold, his thumb carefully brushing on top of her hand.

"What happened?" she found herself whispering, trying to feel the scars in his palm.

"Failure," he answered shortly, a sad look appeared on his eyes before closing them slowly. Her elegant hand in his own was comforting, her thumb moving along side. It was then he realized the pull wasn't happening, he had fucking found a bug –as in an error in something. Her mutation was being delayed whenever she was focused on something else. That was exactly his theory, as long as she didn't focus on the hurting, she was going to do it.

Then the pull happened.

Rogue pulled her hand away swiftly, biting her lip. "Are you okay?"

Sighing loudly, he leaned back to the bed frame. "We'll be doin' a lot of touchin', p'tite. It's better if y' don't ask me that every once in a while, gotta get used t' it," he said, taking a banana from the shopping bag and peeling the skin, before putting the Redbull aside.

Oh, that was for this.

He had been prepared to get some energy after the lessons and she was amazed. "You've really put some thinkin' into this, haven't you?" she blinked, watching him eat his energizer.

He frowned briefly, then kept enjoying his snack. "Oui," he began, throwing her a grin at her side. "And yet, y' still underestimate m' teachin' abilities."

"Ah guess trust isn't our strongest suit, Cajun."

"No kiddin', chére, I had t' kidnap y' to do this."

She rolled her eyes and he shot her a look, before she also leaned against the bed frame. Both of them were focused on the channel, it was the scene where a bunch of cars were drifting in a street, carrying a heavy metal case around. Both of their heads cocked aside when the metal case hit the building and a snort came out from their mouths. They exchanged looks at the similar reactions and smiled into the easiness.

She curled up in a fetal position, her body facing him as her head rested on her own pillow. His gaze was on hers, as she put the glove back on and gave him a cloudy look. A yawn escaped from her lips before she muttered wearily. "Tell me 'bout yourself."

Remy looked taken aback momentarily, before sighing silently. He had so much to say, yet so little to tell. His past was like an IMDB movie with a point of 7.8 and the genre was definitely psychological drama –which made him think that nobody had to go through the same disappointing path that he had. Why share a depressive story where he could just talk about the good stuff?

"Had pretty much a hauntin' past, p'tite," he said honestly, taking a drag from his pocket. "Not a bed time story, really. Unless if y' wanna hear about a ménage â trois with two hot blondes in Ibiza, they were both illusionists and Remy thinks they were twins, but don't remember askin' 'em so it's just a guess. Y' should've seen the wild stuff they did in bed, like étonnante when one of them actually put imaginary mirrors around my-"

"Remy," Rogue groaned, playfully punching his shoulder. "No, Ah wanna hear about you. Surely you're not some art collector."

"But why, chére, I did find somethin' beautiful such as yourself, didn't I?"

"My god," she rolled her eyes. "That had to be the cheesiest thing you've ever said to me, swamp boy."

"Y' didn't even see t' full of it," he gave her a grin proudly. "Maybe not an art collector, but rare things get m' attention."

Her eyes fixated on his red on black ones, his long fingers reached to his lips, taking a breath through the cigarette. She wondered about his past then, how come such a beautiful man could have a troubled past like the ones in his memories? It didn't make any sense.

"Sabretooth called you a thief."

"Did he now," he exhaled a thick smoke that made a grey fog in the air. "And what do y' think, p'tite?"

Rogue bit her lip, it made sense seeing as he was good with the handcuffs, his hands were fast and he was thinking like a villain when it came to stealing pieces from some club, so yeah. But also she wasn't sure if it was smart or not to be here. He was still a stranger, although she had seen parts of his past in the memories. He was still very much unknown, just as she was to him. Come to think of it, he was a stranger that was lying beside her and sharing the same room. At least, when she was older, she would have some wild stories to tell to her friends in some nursing home.

Hey ladies, did Ah ever tell ya this one time Ah got kidnapped by a thief?

She suppressed an eye roll, which was directed at herself. She was acting like an impulsive little brat, she didn't know the man, she didn't know if she could trust him –and yet, here she was, sharing a bed with a man who had promised to teach her how to control her powers in exchange of some ring.

Maybe they should've watched the Lord of the Rings, instead.

"You don't have to tell me anythin' about your past," she said, eyes feeling heavy. "Just tell me enough to trust you."

His crimson eyes pierced through hers in a flash, studying her face carefully. She was wondering how easily their flow was changing, one minute it was chill and casual, the next she was walking on a floor with shattered glass, step by step avoiding the pieces.

Taking a deep breath, Remy broke the eye contact and put out his cigarette. He shifted his arms behind his head, leaning against them. "Y' need t' learn not t' trust anyone," he observed, eyes closed. The advertisement jingles coming from the television was the only sound that filled the room for a long while, she was thinking about his words as his mind was wandered off to somewhere.

Then how was it possible to trust him to teach her what he knew?

"Fuck," she mumbled through the soft pillow. "Ah hate gamblin'."

Her comment made him chuckle lightly. "P'tite," he began, tilting his head towards her. "Y' met me at the bar, agreed t' be in this plan after everythin' and y' sharin' a bed with me. Y' can't possibly say y' don't like gamblin'."

"Ah'm not sharin' anythin' with you, swamp rat," she frowned through half closed eyes. "Go sleep on the couch."

He looked offended as he patted the pillow beneath his head. "But, pourquoi? As y' can see, there's plenty of room on my side o' the bed, and Remy's tired from the drivin'."

"Ah didn't ask you to fuckin' drive," she snapped, opening her eyes accusingly. "Ah could've, ya know, if Ah was actually awake."

"Can y' even legally drive?" he asked, an amusing look on his face.

"What the hell," she sat up on her elbow, shooting him an angry glare. "Ah'm twenty one."

"Bien, I was feelin' bad with givin' y' all the drinks without seein' some ID."

Her jaw dropped in awe, a pair of green eyes shooting daggers at him. He let out a light chuckle and lifted his arm as a shield to protect himself, even though she wasn't being a savage, she felt the upcoming need to punch him.

"Relax, chére," he said, shaking his head as a grin played on his lips. "Remy's only kiddin'. B'sides, why did y' wear the glove back? Don't recall sayin' the session's over."

Rogue blinked again and gave him a huff which meant to be in annoyance, yet it was again in thrill. She took off the glove and for this time, she reached out and offered him to touch her. They both were still in a comfortable position, lying down as he took her hand in his bare hand.

He knew from the previous experiment that he had to find something to distract her, so he lifted her hand up to his face, stunning her. She sucked in her breath as he let her fingers brush through his cheek. His jaw hardened at the contact and closed his eyes, she got a sudden sense of courage mixed with thrill and began exploring his facial structures, his chin, his lips and his cheekbones. He truly was something to explore, like an ancient Roman structure or something like that to be kept in a museum. But here he was in front of her and she was literally touching him.

Then it happened again.

Her index was on his chin when the pull began and she didn't realize the light tingling, as she was focused on feeling his lines, it was when his hand caught her wrist and pulled her hand away, his eyes opened wide as a faint gasp escaped from his lips.

Rogue blinked at blankness a few times before an image appeared in her mind, freezing her momentarily.

A blonde woman was beneath him, completely naked and utterly in pleasure as he was breathing huskily on top of her. The woman cried out his name, her long nails trailed on his biceps and he closed his eyes in satisfaction, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden trembling as he found the muscles on his arms fail on him with a loud groan, letting the orgasm take over him. After getting his senses back lying on top of her, he grabbed his jeans from the floor and she protested, both of their bodies were all sweaty and the climate of Brazil didn't help at all, it was hot and damp from the early summer rain.

"P'tite, y' okay?"

Taking a huge breath, she closed her eyes and prayed to god silently to take some color from her cheeks, she was sure as hell that she was oh so red and she felt so fucking embarrassed. These were his personal memories, she had no right to see them –let alone, live stream them. "Ah'm okay," she said, short and hastily, eyes still closed.

"What did y' see?"

"Nothin'."

"Hm," he observed, sitting up slowly as his red on black eyes eyed her lying down figure carefully. She was hiding her face to the pillow unconsciously and he raised an eyebrow at that. She had seen some of the worst things in his life, yet she never showed this kind of reaction, especially a reaction that made her face flush. What could possibly cause her to go silent now all of a sudden? Was it one of the favors he had to make for Sinister? Was it Julien at the wedding? "Y' know, it's kinda your part of the biddin' to tell me what y' see."

She tilted her head a little, facing him from the pillow. "Ah didn't promise anything 'bout that."

"Mais, y' tiptoe 'round my head, chére. It's only fair if y' tell me what y' see."

Okay, he had a point. It would be so horrifying if she had been exposed as he did, but she just didn't know how to talk about it. What was the better way of talking about one of the sexiest thing she had ever witnessed in her life? She felt like a stalker, the creepiest one to be exact.

Opening her mouth, she cleared her throat softly. Maybe she could give him some hints, yeah that would do. It wasn't like they had to talk about all the details, it wasn't some documentary for god's sake. "Brazil," she said, face on the pillow as she stared at him with one eye open.

He blinked a few times before laughing out loud, he looked beyond relieved as he shook his head amusingly. She had seen one of his one night stands and she was hiding her face because of that, he was utterly amazed. She was fine with witnessing crimes, yet she was so embarrassed with his sexual encounters? She truly was marvelous. "Dieu, y' have seen Rio," he let his head fall to his own pillow.

She sat up on her left elbow, a puzzled look on her face as her body faced him. He wasn't freaking out by the fact that she was creepily streaming his intimate memories, but rather he was enjoying it and she had to make sure that he was a sane person. It was maybe the second or the third time she actually had to double check his mental state. "And you're okay with it?" she asked, blinking blankly.

He gave her a reckless shrug and stretched his arms above his head. "Y' better get used t' it, p'tite, got lots of those in here," he tapped his temple with his index, making her groan into the pillow softly. An amused expression took over his face, he had realized he quite enjoyed making her feel the way she did.

His attention, however, was taken by his burner phone when a text arrived. Grabbing the phone, he read the text before sitting up. He mumbled something negative and sighed, getting out of the bed as she shot him a questioning look.

"I need t' deal with a few issues," he said, wearing his trench coat and grabbing his shades. "Y' welcome t' make yourself at home meanwhile, chére. But save the naughty stuff for me."

His response was a pillow thrown at his chest. He flashed her a mischievous smirk and eyed her lying down figure carefully. She was resting on her back, her emerald eyes watching him back as well. As always, he was gambling against all the odds. It was easy as hell to lose her sight if she had decided to flee, even though he was confident that he could still find her traces, but he knew his hand and he trusted his cards.

"Relax, Cajun," she raised an eyebrow and studied his confused face. "Ah'm not goin' anywhere yet."

"Bien," he replied, his red irises twinkled at her words. Casting a final glance at her way, he wore his shades and walked out of the room. He reached to the elevator, pressing the button. He leaned his head against the mirror, thinking of the situation he pulled her in. Was it a smart move? It had to be, but why was he having second thoughts now?

Remy found himself in the lobby and made his way towards the entrance that opened to the bar, it was nearly empty but he didn't expect anything different. That was quite the reason he often chose the place after all.

Placing himself on the bar stool, he dialed a number and waited for the second ring. "Henri," he said, gesturing the bartender for a bourbon.

"Mon frére."

"Didn't think y' would be so desperate without moi."

"Remy," the voice on the other side replied with a chuckle. "Things take time and y' know it."

"Oui," he said impatiently. "Mais, I have a deadline."

"If pére knew, things would've been faster. Y' told me t' keep it silencieux, that's what I'm doin'. It's just a few days, mon gars is workin' on it."

"Who's the guy?"

There was a pause on the other line. "Emil."

"Baise ma chance," Remy made a face before a few other curse words escaped from his lips. "Henri, are y' serious? Emil can't pull this up for god's sake."

"Y' not givin' him enough credit, mon frére, he's actually done a couple of things since y' been gone."

The Cajun sighed loudly and thanked the other man before hanging up. He gulped down his drink and ordered another one. That was the first fuck up in his plan, without getting himself invited to the Hellfire Club under a fake alias, the plan was useless. However, he had learned to trust his brother on more than a single occasion, so if he said he was working on it, he would.

He recalled not liking this choice of his liqueur, so instead of going for the usual, he ordered a scotch when his second drink was finished. Emil was still a boy, how on earth was he going to achieve this part of the plan? He would be the last one of the guild that he would call if he needed to get into somewhere, simply because Emil didn't have a contact list as useful as the others. His father, however, was a whole different story. The man had eyes everywhere, there wasn't a single person on earth that Jean Luc couldn't get the information of. He would just need to make a few phone calls and the info would be in his hands.

He thought of Henri and his fiancé, maybe she was keeping his brother busy. She was a wonderful woman, she truly was. But Henri was a changed man, sure he did his part in the guild, but his first priority was his relationship now and that actually annoyed the Cajun, simply because the same privileges weren't given to him when he had wanted it.

And getting expelled on top of it didn't help any at all.

Frowning at the thought, he gulped down his scotch and ordered another one, numbing the painful memories. His throat burned like hell and he liked that, it wasn't the time to feel homesick now. He had to focus on his plan and the ring, even if that meant blindly trusting on his family.

"My, my," a feminine voice interrupted his melancholy. "Didn't think I'd see you this soon."

He turned towards the woman, cocking his head aside as the familiarity hit him. "Bonsoir, chére," he said, eyeing the redhead from the register earlier, through his shades.

"Trouble at paradise?" she asked sweetly, placing herself next to his stool.

"Somethin' like that."

She ordered a glass of red wine and tilted her head towards him. "Frowning doesn't suit you, honey. We need to cheer you up," she said, lifting the wine glass up to her red lips.

A flirtatious smirk appeared on his lips before he drank his scotch. Her long nails touched the hem of his shirt under the leather coat, mirroring his flirtatious demeanor as she took another sip from her red wine, batting her lashes seductively.

"What y' have in mind?"

That was the only question asked before he found himself in the bar's restroom, although his vision was cloudy, he recalled being dragged to one of the empty stalls as the redhead smacked her lips against his hastily, he responded back with pleasure as her hand found its way to his jeans, her nails touching his throbbing erection through the fabric as he let out a groan.

Fed up with the games, her mouth went lower from his neck to his chest, stopping at the muscular groin when he sucked in his breath and she went down on him. His head leaned against the plastic wall of the stall, closing his eyes as her lips touched the tip of his hardness for a moment and she let out a satisfied moan at his reaction, before taking all of him eagerly in her mouth.

His eyes darted open at the ceiling as a growl came out of his lips, his hand tightly grabbing her red hair.

When he looked down, all he could dream of was a pair of bright emerald eyes looking up at him.