Me just quietly posting an update after five years...
I can only offer a huge apology for abandoning this story for so long. It certainly wasn't my intention, but what can I say? Life got in the way and I am very sorry for letting that happen.
We pick up this story with...errr...a bang? Rated very M. Hopefully there are still people out there who enjoy a good Romy romp!
Remy
"Sssshhhhiiiiittttt-!"
An electric shock knocked Remy from in front of the control panel squarely onto his backside, his head clanging against the floor.
"Ow…"
His twitching arm tingled from fingertips to elbow, and he flicked his hand as he rolled up to sit cross-legged on the floor. It smarted, but at least he hadn't been burned this time. He wasn't sure how long he had been working the White Room's lock, but hell if he was giving up yet, not while he still had fingers that worked. Tante Mattie always said he was too stubborn for his own good…
He had his lock picks with him, but the control panel on the inside wasn't a traditional lock, and sure as hell didn't match the panel in the hall. Where Jean had punched a code into the panel on the other side, the door inside appeared to operate instead by fingerprint recognition. He would have normally made short work of his cage, but his powers were still on the fritz. He had tried to charge every blasted thing in the room, but nothing, not even a single spark. Had Jean done something to his brain with her powers? Remy rested his elbows on his knees, taking slow, deep breaths until the tingling subsided, working himself up to take another run at the lock.
Feeling like an old man, he pushed himself to his feet and leaned over the control panel. You can do this, he told himself, ain't no lock you can't pick.
The doors to the room slid open before he had a chance to give it another go, and he spun to face whoever had opened it, a dud playing card popping into his hand as reflex.
"Where have you been!?"
Instead of Jean, it was Rogue standing in the entrance with her hands on her hips. She grabbed him by the fabric covering his chest and yanked him into the hall.
"Good to see you, too, cherie." It wasn't exactly the welcome he had expected, but she redeemed herself by throwing her arms around him.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled against his chest, but he barely heard her. He raised his hand and stared at the now charged card held over the wild mess of her curls. As soon as he had cleared the room's doorway, the card had flared a brilliant magenta, his powers back.
Rogue was babbling, but Remy freed himself from her arms and took the smallest of steps back into the White Room. The card snuffed out of its own accord the second he crossed the threshold. He rocked back and forth twice more with the same results, and a giddy understanding bubbled over him. Jean hadn't done anything to him, the White Room itself had cancelled out his mutant powers.
"…they kept me in that infirmary forever, goin' over and over my powers - gettin' all pissy 'cause I wouldn't show 'em how they worked - and then when we were done, you were nowhere t'be found, and Lorna took me to get food - which was god awful, by the way." Rogue didn't pause for a breath, and Remy tugged her gently forward. "I tell you, sugar, I never expected to miss starving to death in that ship! There were eggs for breakfast, but do you know what they were tryin' to feed me? 'Cause, let me tell you, they sure as hell weren't chicken!"
Laughing, he held her face in his gloved hand, brushing her full lips with his thumb. Could they really be so lucky? Didn't the universe owe them a few moments together? Was it really worth getting locked in that room again? Mon dieu, he was going straight to hell in a handbasket.
She scowled and pulled out of his grasp. "Don't you laugh at me, Remy LeBeau! Have you seen any chickens 'round here?"
"I'm sorry, Rogue," he took her hands in his, pulling her further into the room. "Please, continue your story."
Rogue eyed him warily, but let herself be led inside. There was the thrill of anticipation and guilt when the doors hissed closed once again, but Remy found he didn't care so much this time.
"So," Rogue continued as he gestured for her to sit on the couch. "Lorna got called away, and I got the nickel tour from Magneto himself."
Remy sat bolt upright next to her. "Magneto?"
Rogue arched an eyebrow at him. "You're just never gonna guess what he showed me."
"And what's that, petite?"
"Their infirmary has one resident," she continued. "A permanently brain injured man that goes by the name of Charles Xavier."
Her words hung in the air, and Remy felt the breath rush from his lungs.
"Xavier?" he finally croaked, as in the Xavier that Rogue and her mutton chop loving guardian had been trying to find - the man who was supposed to fulfill her future telling foster mother's final prophecy? It was just a story she had told him, something to pass the time, wasn't it? It couldn't be for real.
"You…you didn't tell Magneto what your momma said, did you?"
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Give me a little credit. We don't know enough about these people or this Xavier to say boo about diddly. It could just be a coincidence." She rested an elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. "I just don't get it. If this is the guy Irene saw, Magneto says he's been brain dead for almost twenty years! How is he supposed to bring hope to anything lying in a hospital bed? How could Irene have gotten it all so wrong?" Her voice broke on the end of her sentence, and Remy leaned forward to pull her carefully back against his chest.
"Hey…hey…this Xavier is here, right? Finding him meant us finding these knuckleheads." Her laugh was a snort against him. "Let's not jump to conclusions."
She sighed and leaned into him. "So," she mumbled, "what is this place? What have you been doing?"
"Just doing a little sightseeing myself, chere," he rested his chin on top of her head. "Girl named Jean Grey been dragging me around all day."
"Oh?"
Remy caught the hint of jealousy in that one syllable, and he kind of liked it. "Jean's a nice girl. You'd like her."
Rogue snorted. "I met her. How d'you think I found you? She was waiting for me…outside your room I might add…and told me where you were hiding." She pushed free of his arms and scowled at him, her lips puckered. "Did she at least show you anything interestin' on yer fancy little tour?"
He couldn't hold back the grin. "Matter of fact, cherie, she did." Fast as lightning, he leaned forward, planting a kiss on those pouting lips. Just as fast, Rogue shoved him back, and he landed with a thump at the other end of the couch.
"What do you think you're doin'?!" Her eyes were wide, scared, and Remy sat up, rubbing what was sure to be a new knot forming on his head. "You know what happens when I touch people, you…" She froze and touched her fingertips to her lips, staring at him, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "You're awake?" she whispered. "How are you awake?"
"Magic." He produced a fan of playing cards from nowhere and made them disappear again, her wide eyes following his every move. "What d'you say, chere, wan' give it a try?"
When she didn't run or slap him, he removed his gloves, first one, then the other, hardly daring to breathe for fear he would scare her away. He reached out, and it felt like an eternity before he closed the distance between his hand and the warmth of her cheek. When he made contact she flinched, closing her eyes as he traced her jaw with the back of his fingers. She opened her eyes when he pulled his touch away and took her trembling hands in his.
"It's this room," he whispered, "it cancels out our powers." He slid off one of her gloves and held her palm against his face. Her fingertips brushed the stubble on his cheek. He scooted closer, ignoring the voice deep inside reminding him he was going straight to hell, and brought his lips back towards hers. "We're safe here," he murmured, "we don't have to do anythin' you don' want to…"
She swallowed his words with a wild kiss, shoving a surprised Remy onto his back and following him down, pressing her body against his. Their lips danced together while the touch of her hands was everywhere, twining in his hair, moving under the hem of his shirt to explore the hardened plane of his abs. He pulled his lips away from hers to catch his breath.
"Rogue, maybe we should slow down, chere…" He groaned when she moved her lips to his neck, and her hands slid up to the bare skin of his chest. He wanted her, more than anybody he had ever known, and this had been his idea, but the chastising voice inside was gaining traction. He didn't want her to jump into something she wasn't ready for just because they could. Ignoring him, she wrapped one of her legs around his hip and worked her lips down his throat. All the blood left his brain as she rocked against him, and he grabbed the back of her thighs and tugged her forward so she was straddling him.
She withdrew her lips and flipped her hair from her face, her eyes dancing playfully. "Slow down? You're kidding, right? The world we live in? We might not get another chance." Bending down, she nipped his ear. "I promise I'll be gentle…"
No one would ever accuse Remy LeBeau of being a saint. He flipped her on her backside with those long legs wrapped around him, drawing him right up against her. It was his turn to explore, and his hands and lips rambled beneath her clothes, delighting at the tremors across her smooth skin. He sat up slightly and ripped off his own shirt, tossing it onto the rug, then helped Rogue out of hers. Beneath, her breasts were barely contained in a lacy bralet, and he could see the darkened outline of nipples. He groaned and bent down to run his tongue along the fabric, his hand shifting down to the waist of her pants. Rogue's breathing grew heavier as he slid his hand down the front of her pants, his fingers moving beneath to find the wetness waiting for him.
"You so beautiful," he murmured, meaning to take his time, but Rogue seemed to have other ideas. Her hands freed him and moved him close to her entrance. It was all happening too fast. He jumped off of her and leaned back against the couch, panting.
"Remy? Did I do something wrong?"
He was a lecherous, rotten man seducing a virgin, and she thought she had done something wrong. Straight to hell, he thought, do not pass go.
"No, chere. I did something wrong."
"Funny," she said softly and stood in front of him, his hungry eyes following her. "This all feels pretty right to me." She slid her pants down her hips and her panties followed. Remy groaned when she undid her bra and stood naked before him. "I want you, Remy. There's nothing wrong with that."
She bent down and took his face between her hands, kissing him deeply, and climbed back onto his lap, with a leg on each side of him.
"We can take it slow, Rogue," he crooned. "I don't mind." He held her hips still, but she had taken him into her hands and was rubbing the length of him against her.
"Anna," she breathed. "My real name, it's Anna. And I've waited long enough."
She cried out when he entered her, a flash of pain mixed in the pleasure of their joining. He showed her how to move, and after a few deliberately slow strokes they were grinding breathlessly into each other. He was too close to finishing, though to be fair he had been halfway there the whole time he had known her, his self-abuse doing little to satisfy the overwhelming urges she stirred in him. It was a longshot, but he wanted her to come before him, and reached between them and stroked her where their flesh met. Her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back, rocking her hips between his cock and his touch. He picked up the pace, watching her breasts bouncing furiously in time to his thrusts. Those beautiful eyes widened.
"Remy…Remy!" Her body fluttered around him and he couldn't hold back any longer.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but it had just felt so good, so right, with Rogue – Anna - in his arms. One second he had been running his fingers along the skin of Rogue's back, inhaling the smell of her hair and listening to the soft rise and fall of her breath, the next his eyes were opening to bright lights and the grinning face of Jean Grey.
"Merde!" Remy jumped, nearly knocking Rogue off the couch, but his reflexes saved them both from tumbling butt ass naked onto the floor. He felt Rogue start, and held her close, not sure whose modesty he was protecting.
"Well, good morning, sunshine!" Jean snickered.
"Bonjour, petite." Out of the corner of his eye, Remy spotted his pants, too far away to grab even with his toes.
Rogue buried her head against his chest and covered her face with her hair. "I think I'm gonna die," she whispered instead. Remy had to swallow to hide the laughter that threatened to tumble out of his mouth. Even so, Jean caught the grin that twitched his lips.
Jean stood and retrieved Remy's pants from the floor and held them out to him. "You just might if Magnus finds you both still together in here."
Remy snatched his pants and motioned for Jean to turn around. The girl smiled but obliged, stooping to collect Rogue's garments.
"None of M'sieu Magneto's business, cherie. Nothing but consenting adults in this room." He let go of Rogue and shimmied into his borrowed outfit, then rescued his paramour's clothing from where Jean held them out behind her.
"That's true," Jean acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean he isn't looking for you."
"What?" Rogue's voice was muffled by her top, and Remy said a silent farewell to her bare breasts.
"Magneto's looking for you." Jean confirmed. "They all are."
Remy pulled on his own shirt. Making sure Rogue was fully dressed, he tapped Jean on the shoulder. "Why?" he pushed.
"Because they couldn't find you, that's why." A baffled Remy watched Jean glide over to the armchair and flop into its seat. "Your beds weren't slept in, then you weren't at breakfast. No one had seen you since yesterday. They thought you left somehow, maybe got lost in the jungle." She leaned her head back against the chair, closed her eyes, and sighed. "It's all so tiresome, really. Their brains are so loud. I had to come down here for some peace and quiet."
"Lord." Rogue ran a hand through her wild mane of hair, Remy grinning at how crazy it was thanks to their romp. "Thought Remy said you couldn't read their minds?" she questioned Jean. "Not when they're wearing their little Bluetooth doohickeys?"
"I can't," Jean frowned and stared at the ceiling. "Those things jam me from getting a clear read on their minds, but only by replacing it with static, like an out of tune radio station. Sometimes I still get flickers, like fiddling with the knob and catching the right frequency, but most of the time it's just…noise. When their thoughts are racing, the noise just gets louder." Jean rolled her head towards them. "That's what's nice about you two, and Charles. You're all so very quiet."
"Charles?!" Rogue jumped next to him, but Remy grabbed her wrist to settle her.
"We're quiet?" Remy redirected Jean. Rogue glared at him, but Remy avoided her gaze. He knew why his mind would be quiet thanks to his natural resistance to telepathy, but why was Rogue?
"Well," Jean sat up and tucked her legs beneath her. "Quiet, but not the same kind of quiet. Remy is quiet, but I can still feel that he's there, he's just blocking everything I try to do, putting himself into a box I can't open. It's frustrating. But, you…" she fiddled with a tendril of long, red hair while she put her thoughts into words. "You're just…a vacancy. Like, there's an empty space where I know you should be, but I can't see you." Jean blinked and focused her eyes back on the pair of them. "Stupid, right? Some mind reader I am."
Rogue finally caught Remy's eyes and smiled. "Logan taught me to do that," she confessed. "A form of meditation I've kept up on out of habit. Always thought he was full of crap. Guess the old man really knew what he was talkin' about, huh?" Remy found Rogue's hand and ran his thumb along her knuckles.
"It's okay, Anna," he whispered. "Maybe wit' the X-Men's help, we'll find him."
The White Room's door swished open, and an exasperated Polaris panted at the entrance. "Seriously?" she glared at all three of them, then touched her communicator. "This is Lorna. I found them." Polaris stepped into the room and placed her hand on her hips. "We thought you two were dinosaur chow. What the hell were you doing down here?"
For the first time in his life, Remy LeBeau didn't have a cover story. He stared blankly at Rogue, whose face slowly flared pink.
"We were playing poker," Jean announced, and when Remy looked at her in confusion, the girl produced a deck of his playing cards and fanned them out like a Vegas dealer. "And they didn't want me cheating and reading their minds." She must have snatched the deck from his pants pocket before handing them to him, and he nodded in approval at her quick thinking.
"Whatever," Polaris dismissed. "My father wants you in the Danger Room. There should be clean uniforms in the changing rooms, I'll show you where."
"Danger Room?" Remy challenged. "We ain't a part of your team."
"Obviously," Lorna proclaimed. "But if you're going to stay here, my father wants to see what you can do."
"Right," Remy mocked, but offered his arm to Rogue when he stood. She bent to retrieve her gloves and pulled them on before taking the elbow he offered, letting Remy direct her towards the door. "Magneto's just curious, that's all."
A backwards handspring kept him from getting scorched by a laser beam, and Remy let fly a charged card that hit the targeting camera located high up on the wall. It exploded in a shower of sparks, but he was already on the move. At last check he was almost out of cards, though he had a feeling running him out of ammo was what old Magneto was trying to do.
Remy bounced off another wall and delivered a flying kick to a robot with buzz saws for arms, using its head to cartwheel around to its backside. He crammed some of his last cards into a seam at the robot's waist, then rolled out of the way of the resulting explosion.
Three hours Magneto had been testing him, three solo hours in this place they called the Danger Room, just Remy LeBeau versus everything they could think to throw at him. Solid light holograms of monsters and villains, trap doors that opened up to pits of fire, steel cages, and robots of every shape and size imaginable had all taken their best shot, but he was still on his feet. He only broke a sweat when they opened the roof to let in the sun climbing high in the sky, Remy half expecting a pterodactyl to swoop in and carry him off.
He was down to his last card, the Queen of Hearts, the one he always kept for emergencies. Instead of throwing it, he grabbed a fistful of robotic shrapnel to hurl at the next contestant. At first, the new robot didn't look to be anything special - as run of the mill as the rest of the X-Men's death machines - but as Remy watched it grew in size, from six feet to sixty, towering over him
'He wants to see what you can do', Lorna had said. Well, thought Remy, who was he to deny a request? Flipping to avoid the car-sized feet stomping towards him, he jumped onto the back of the robot's knee and climbed. The robot worked to throw him off, but Remy made it to where its shoulder blades would have been and held on tight. Ignoring the whir of giant electronic arms flailing at him, Remy got a good grip and started charging. Magenta flared the length of the robot's sheet metal skin. It wasn't the biggest thing he had ever charged, but it was going to make a hell of a show.
Keeping one hand on the robot, he threw his lady luck, the Queen of Hearts, against a nearby wall. The kinetic bomb blew a Remy sized hole into the metal plating and circuits, and he leapt for it, throwing himself into its shelter just before the giant robot blew sky high. His landing wasn't pretty, but he braced himself for the big boom, a split second later only hearing the detonation, not feeling it.
He poked his head out of the hidey-hole to find Magneto floating in the center of the Danger Room, a bubble of magnetic energy containing the fire and debris of Remy's explosion.
"That was reckless," Magneto reprimanded as the flames collapsed within the invisible sphere.
Remy flipped backwards out of the hole and landed kitty-cat on his feet. "I think the word you lookin' for is 'impressive', M'sieu."
Still floating, Magneto trained a wrathful stare on Remy. "Do not presume…"
The Danger Room's intercom cut Magneto short. "We got all the raw data we need, Magnus," Mr. Cassidy called down from the overhead booth. "I think the lad deserves a break, don't you?"
Magneto landed, and with a wave of his hand swiped the remnants of Remy's battle away. "Of course," Magneto acknowledged. "We have other tests to administer today."
A door slid open and Rogue emerged, accompanied by Polaris, Colossus, Nightcrawler, and Iceman.
Remy wiped his forehead on his sleeve and grinned at Rogue.
"No fair, Rogue. Gambit had to take this place on all by himself, but you get to fight with the whole team?" He was teasing, but her already light skin paled.
"Not exactly, sugar," she mumbled.
"Banshee!" Magneto turned his attention back to the booth "Where are the other students? I explicitly requested the full complement for this test!"
On closer inspection, all of the assembled X-Men looked a bit squeamish to Remy.
Mr. Cassidy snapped back on the intercom. "Aye, I got yer explicit request, and I ignored it. Volunteers only, I'll not place those children's lives in danger, not until we have some preliminary readings."
"Very well." Magneto and his cape spun back towards them, and an uneasiness travelled up Remy's spine.
"What's goin' on here?" Remy demanded, hoping that what he was imagining was wrong.
It wasn't.
Rogue slipped off a glove. "My test," she confirmed flatly.
Lorna looked to her father, then reached out and took Rogue's bare hand.
"NO!" Remy reached for Rogue, but felt a magnetic tug anchoring him to the ground. "Rogue! You don't have t'do this!" Unable to move, he could only watch.
Rogue's face contorted, and Lorna slumped over, Magneto catching her unconscious body before it hit the floor. One by one the rest of the X-Men followed suit, the last one Nightcrawler, opting for a kiss instead.
"My apologies, fraulein," Kurt winked, "but, the fur? It itches." His lips brushed Rogue's cheek and her power stole his. Within seconds she was blue, though she had been spared the tail. Haunted yellow eyes stared at Remy.
"Banshee," Magneto signaled, "begin the sequence."
"What the hell are you…non!" Remy sputtered. "Don't do this! Stop!" Magnetic energy wrapped around him like chains, and Magneto hauled a struggling Remy and the unconscious X-Men up to the Danger Room's observation booth.
"What are you doin' to her?!" Remy roared and thrashed against the invisible bonds.
"Testing her limits," Magneto replied calmly, and took a seat at the control panel near Mr. Cassidy.
"She's not in any danger, boyo," Sean stressed, but Remy snorted.
"You kiddin', right? She's in a room you people named Danger! And I noticed neither of you offerin' up yourself for this little test!"
"Lad makes a good point, Magnus," Sean conceded. "At least let him watch what's goin' on so he can see we mean the lass no harm."
Magneto merely grunted, but Remy's body zipped along the floor and snapped into an upright position near the window.
Below, the Danger Room had come alive against Rogue. Floating in the middle of the room, her borrowed blue fur was now covered in Colossus's armored skin. One hand created a wall of ice between her and a robot, the other magnetically dismantled another assailant. The pieces zoomed around the room, tearing through other machines. A battering ram shot from the wall, and Rogue teleported out of its way, materializing on top and ripping it from the wall with her bare hands. A shot of ice crystals froze another droid, and her fist shattered it.
Remy couldn't follow everything she was doing; she was a one-woman mutant army taking down a dozen robots at a time. Hunks of melting metal swirled around her like globs in a lava lamp, reforming at her will to slice through rows of laser cannons.
"Now that," Sean turned to address Remy over his shoulder, "is impressive."
"Indeed," Magneto agreed. "While it lasts."
As if on cue, the floating globs of metal rained to the ground below Rogue.
"Hey!" Remy yelped. "She's had enough!"
"Aye," Sean agreed. "The lass is running out of steam. I'm aborting." Sean's hand froze over the controls.
"Not yet," Magneto ordered.
"What do you mean, not yet?" Sean's face reddened and his hand shook as he visibly struggled to move it.
One of the larger robots came at her, and Rogue locked arms with it.
"Stop this, NOW!" Remy barked and wriggled around. It wasn't him or his skin Magneto had ahold of, it was the bodysuit, he could feel himself slipping away from the fabric, but he would never be free in time. "ROGUE!"
Below, the armor disappeared. There was a sickening crack, and Rogue screamed.
"God dammit-!" Sean's scream became the Banshee's wail, an ear-splitting keen that knocked Magneto backwards and freed them both. The Irishman slammed the abort button and continued blaring an angry string of curses at Magneto.
Remy sprinted from the control booth, taking the stairs four at a time. He found Rogue in the fetal position, a spray of blood decorating the floor around her.
"Anna!" Remy slid across the floor on his knees, reaching her just as a recovered Nightcrawler appeared out of thin air. Rogue was conscious, but just barely. One of her arms was cracked in two, and the bluish white bone glinted through the torn edges of her costume. Remy couldn't look away, though the sight brought the taste of bile to his mouth. But there was something else that caught his eyes, silvery threads hanging loose from the torn fabric. Upon closer inspection, Remy found strands of metal woven into the cloth.
"Mother fucker," Remy hissed. Standard issue uniforms courtesy the Savior of Mutantkind. Costumes threaded through with metal. What better way to keep your students in line?
Kurt touched Remy's shoulder. "I will take her to the infirmary, but I had better not make it a trio this time." Kurt was gone with Rogue before Remy could stop him, and he could only pray the trip was easier on her than the last teleport they had taken.
Remy stood and took a deep breath, scrubbing his hands down his face. He wanted to march back up to that booth and beat the hell out Magneto, but instead sprinted towards the infirmary.
Night in the prehistoric jungle was unsettling, even safely hidden behind the glimmering sheen of the forcefield that covered the X-Men's base like the puffy silk of the Superdome. The barrier, impressive as it was, did nothing to block out the roars of the unknown and extinct reptiles on the other side. Remy paused to listen, the goosebumps raised under his thin shirt having little to do with the clammy tropical air, the knots in his stomach even less to do with dinosaurs.
He had left Rogue sleeping in the infirmary. Remy took a deep breath and raised his eyes to the swirling mix of clouds and stars above. The urge to throttle Magneto hadn't dimmed. Just where the hell did that man get off…!? Remy didn't want anything to do with his little band of martyrs. Pushing Rogue like that, making her use her powers when she wasn't ready…they were lucky it had only been a broken arm. The sight of her lying there would be just one more nightmare…if he could ever sleep again.
Dropping his chin, Remy raked his hands through his hair, his fingers trailing along the puckered scar hidden on his scalp. Nobody did nothin' for no one without expecting something in return, he reminded himself. That ghost faced son of a bitch Essex hadn't been the first to teach him that lesson, but why had he thought these X-Men would be any different?
Pain killers had kept Rogue unconscious for hours, but he had needed to duck out for some fresh air. He was driving himself crazy in that hospital room. This whole set-up reeked. He knew they should be grateful to these people - the X-Men had saved them from who knew what fate at the hands of the Marauders - but it seemed their rescue came with strings attached. So, what else was new?
Remy didn't completely object to the idea of trying to help out and pull their own weight, but there was something so disturbing about the way Magneto looked at them, Rogue especially. The way the man's eyes moved over her was almost…possessive…it raised the hackles on Remy's neck. He needed to find out a little more about this place, and about what Magneto's motivations were before they decided to stay. Remy found it hard to believe the man was as saint-like as he pretended to be.
Overhead, the silent hum of an airplane's engines preceded the outline of the Blackbird as it descended through the forcefield to the hangar bay. Remy stepped off the softly lit path and moved through the shadows towards the landing pad. Secret missions in the middle of the night seemed as good a place as any to get more information, he reasoned.
By the time he reached the jet, bodies were already walking towards the hangar. Magneto led the way, in full costume even at four in the morning, followed by a sweatpants wearing Sean and three mutants Remy hadn't seen before, a young girl and two men. One of the men had a moustache and dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and looked to be closer in years to Sean. The other seemed to be Remy's age, but it was hard to tell because his hair was a silver white. He looked twitchy, agitated, and was a dead ringer for Magneto. The girl, on the petite size with wavy brown hair that came past her shoulders, couldn't have been more than fifteen, and was chattering at Sean, her hands an exaggerated flutter.
"That had to be it!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "We have to go back! With a few more bodies, we could bring it all down!"
Sean smiled grimly around the stem of his pipe. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, lass," he cautioned.
"But…!" the girl's face fell and she stopped.
The rest of the men kept walking save Sean, who stayed with her and put a hand on her shoulder. Remy kept to the shadows and paused to listen.
"We can't afford t'be wrong on this one, Kitty." Sean's low voice was stern. "We all know what's at stake, but we have t'be right. We won't get another chance."
Magneto's shadow fell across the pair, his face obscured in the dark. "We are also running out of time. We cannot afford to let Essex make good on his promise."
Essex. Had the X-Men been reading his mind? Remy inhaled sharply, a sound that did not go unnoticed. With a wave of his hand, Magneto directed the path's lanterns towards the noise. His eyes accused Remy, but Sean chuckled and raised his pipe in salute.
"Fine night for a stroll, me boyo. What's the matter? You get lost?"
Remy stepped onto the path and met Magneto's glare with a cocky smirk. "Seems like I'm right where I need t'be, M'sieu Cassidy. Believe me, Dr. Essex is one homme you don't want to mess wit'."
The girl, Kitty, stared at him like a fish out of water. "Have you met him?"
"Oui," Remy replied grimly. "On what was supposed t'be my wedding day." That was all they needed to know about what that monster had done to him. His dark eyes met Sean's, and the Banshee's eyebrows raised in surprise.
"There have been few who have met Nathaniel Essex and survived to tell the tale." The accusations continued in Magneto's tone, but Remy swallowed his temper.
"If it's any consolation for you, M'sieu," Remy elaborated, "the Guild's benefactress didn't. It was her head Essex delivered to my father's house. Bastard even put a bow on the box."
Kitty turned a delicate shade of green, but Sean frowned.
"Guild? As in Thieves' Guild?"
Remy caught the look that passed from Sean to Magneto, and raised a defiant chin. "Oui," he challenged. Just try and let them lecture him, Remy thought. He was liking these people less and less by the minute. If they were going after Essex? He was scooping Rogue up from her sick bed and riding off into the sunset in a stolen supersonic jet. The further he could stay away from that pasty butcher, the better.
"Take it easy, lad. You wouldn't be the first X-Man to walk the wrong side of the law, and ye'll hardly be the last. Saving the world is more shades of grey than black and white." Sean seemed not to be speaking directly to Remy, but Magneto, who instead of responding turned abruptly on his heel and walked away.
Sean took a puff off his pipe and looked Remy up and down as if he was seeing him for the first time. "Guild's been out of service, what, goin' on five years now? Are ye a little rusty then?"
The Blackbird was just begging for a set of skilled hands to hotwire it, and Remy would have loved to jack it just to prove that he still could, but like a magician he produced the lockpicks he always carried seemingly from thin air. "Nothin' rusty 'bout me. Like a boyscout, M'sieu Cassidy - I'm always prepared."
A broad smile split the sun weathered face of the Irishman. "If you wouldn't mind joinin' our little debriefing, then? We could use someone with your…expertise."