Author's Note: Fury's in the story again. I never intended to use him much as a character but the one-eyed man just won't go away. What to do? Perhaps Lapin will chase him off next chapter. This was my first attempt at writing a dream sequence, let me know how it went. As always, critisism and suggestions are both welcome and appreciated.

Warning!!! This chapter contains allusions to adult subjects. They are fairly mild, but if such things bother you then don't read this chapter. It does not contain any crucial plot points. Also, please let me know if I should increase the rating.

The Hotel, Room 513

"I booked you a room right across from theirs. Have a nice stay," Wolverine muttered under his breath mockingly. When he had heard the target couple enter their hotel room, he had thought it would be a good idea to listen in on them and see what they were up to. Now, he was lying on his hotel bed blushing like an overly modest school-girl during her first day of co-ed health class. He really did not want to know quite this much about them. "Screw the mission," Logan grumbled softly and turned on the TV. He flipped rapidly through the channels searching for something to focus his attention on. He didn't care if he missed a few pieces of information; he was not going to play voyeur to a couple of under-aged kids. He paused slightly, at the thought of them being kids, and made a mental note to find out what Xavier's policy was on boys in the female dorms when he went back to the mansion to check on Marie. Then, to be on the safe side, he dug out a post-it, wrote an actual note to do so, and stuck the note in his wallet. Frustrated with his inability to find anything decent to watch, he flipped to a station broadcasting a car race and allowed his enhanced hearing to home in on the monotonous sounds of engines, blocking out the intimate sounds from across the hall. He dug out the three files that Fury left with him. Well, the three electronic gizmos that he presumed contained the files. He started trying to figure out how they plugged into his computer. He really didn't understand why people felt the need to switch technology every six months. Floppy disks still worked didn't they?

The Hotel, Room 514

Across the hall, Belle smiled as she tucked her lover's hair behind his ear. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as she did so, but he was well on his way to sleep. She was slightly tempted to find something to drink, but she didn't dare to get out of bed and wake him. She knew he had to be exhausted. He had been up for well over 48 hours. She had caught an afternoon nap, while he worked on some paper, presumably over one of the exhibits they had seen yesterday. She wasn't sure if he was thoroughly solidifying his excuse for being in Kyoto, or if he was just taking advantage of a convenient paper topic. She assumed it was the first. Normally, no amount of convenience could get him to focus on something that didn't truly catch his attention. After finishing his paper, he had dragged her out for dinner, sick of being cooped up in the little room. He was always such a bundle of energy. It really was a challenge to get him to stay in one place for very long. Sometimes, she thought he was simply hyperactive, sometimes she thought his powers filled him with a living energy that he couldn't quite contain. He very often skipped sleep just because he couldn't sit still long enough to rest. Belle had learned however, that if he was tired enough, all she had to do was get him to stay still for five minutes and he would crash wherever he was, no matter what he was supposed to be doing. She knew that he hadn't slept his first night in Kyoto, electing to watch over her instead. Unfortunately, she hadn't realized this until morning when she caught him trying not to drift off from sheer boredom. Otherwise she would have put a stop to the ridiculous plan immediately, She could waken at the drop of a hat just as well as he could and she didn't need his protection. He really had allowed himself to drift for a scant 20 minutes after she had risen, but she hardly thought that counted. It didn't help that the poor boy had mistaken her innocuous comment about gardens for a genuine desire to see them. He had taken her to one that morning, stopping only to shower, change, and get something to eat. Sometimes he forgot she didn't have his energy, not that she would ever admit she couldn't always keep up with him. She could keep up with him when she needed to, but honestly, why couldn't he remember that you were supposed to sleep on a daily basis? So now he was asleep and she wanted to keep him that way, even if she was thirsty and had a nice bottle of water sitting in the bucket of ice just across the room.

Room 513

Logan grinned in satisfaction as he finally got the files on one of the gizmos to open. He reached over and picked up his room service steak. Munching on it, he wished more of his stake-outs took place in five star hotels. He'd have to check out the whirlpool in his bathroom later. Sighing he turned the TV off. It had been an hour; surely they couldn't still be… 'busy'. He sorted through the sounds of the night until he knew which came from the room across from him. He sighed again. He wouldn't be getting any useful info out of the kids that evening. One of them was sound asleep. The other was busy slurping water. No devious plans were being concocted. He wondered again if Fury didn't have him barking up the wrong tree entirely, before turning his attention back to the files. He left one ear tuned to the room across the hall, just in case.

Room 514

Remy's mind drifted as he slept. Shapeless images and blurred colors swirled through his dreamscape, dissipating immediately and leaving no impressions within his memory as his subconscious sorted through the events of the last few days in no particular order and no logical pattern. All images, sounds, and colors, faded into the silent darkness of sleep as quickly as they were created, none to be remembered in wakefulness. Then one image, seemingly at random, seemed to stand out. It was the painted face of the Geisha. Slowly the imagination filled in what the mind did not know; young women, all in a line, painstakingly painting their faces and arranging their hair. They dressed in fine silks, their kimonos all looking vaguely identical as the young women seamlessly morphed into young girls with whip marks on their backs.(1) They changed from on thing to another without the mind recognizing that a change had taken place, a phenomenon solely possessed by dreams. Likewise, the young girls morphed into young boys dressed in black velvet and colored silk. Suddenly the make-up needed to be reapplied, though the mind recognized nothing strange about this. Indeed, it had forgotten that the original make-up had ever been there. Frantically, concealer was used to cover bruises and mascara was used to bring out haunted eyes. Hair was twisted into chin length ringlets as the young boys stood all in a line. Soon the patter of bare feet would be heard, as the young boys, painted like dolls, would be herded into a room where the true nightmare would begin.

Room 513

Logan frowned as the smell of fear drifted into his nostrils. It was coming from across the hall. He listened more closely but only the sounds of deep breathing met his ears. They were both asleep now, though the heart beat of the first sleeper had picked up slightly and his breathing was not quite has even as before. Logan could tell now, from the scent of the fear, that it was the male that had fallen asleep first. Bad dream, he assessed. He snorted, as he turned back to his work. The file that he had managed to open first was about the boy. The file contained the boy's adoption papers, the results of his background check, financial information on his immediate family and a Mattie Baptiste, and the educational background of everyone close to the boy. Fury had also included the documentation from the Catholic orphanage that had housed an eight-year-old with red on black eyes for two months, the birth certificate for the child of a Jane Doe who had left her 'devil baby' in the hospital, the report to the police two weeks later that the child had gone missing, and every reference to the 'demon child' contained within the original case files of the Antiquary. He was serious when he told Fury that he didn't want to know anymore about the Antiquary than he already did. He didn't really see how any information on the bastard was involved with this case. Still, he was the one who always insisted on knowing everything about the people he was dealing with. It helped him predict the actions and reactions of his enemies. Logan sighed, either red on black eyes weren't as uncommon in New Orleans as one would assume or Fury was right and the adoption papers were fake. The timelines didn't match up at all. There were two seperate birth certificates; one attatched to the adoption papers, and one that wasn't. There were no medical files, except for the check-ups the child had recieved at the orphanage, and what passed for medical information in the files from the Antiquary. He groaned as he got to a particularly graphic description of how the child had once been punished for trying to run away. He pulled the 'gizmo' out of the computer and tossed it aside. If he ever felt he needed that information he could look at it then. He selected a different 'gizmo' and hoped it was the one containing what was left of the evidence actually pertaining to the case. After all, the girl was their suspect not the boy.

Room 514

The boys were in two rows now, kneeling and silent. It was always the same. There was no sense of time as they waited for their master to make his decision. Sometimes, it seemed he was impatient and called one of them forward immediately. Sometimes, it seemed he made them stay there for hours, kneeling on the cold, hard marble. This time he would call forth his favorite, the one who seemed to be picked more than the rest. The mind morphed the scene again and the other children were gone, their existence already forgotten. Now there was only the child and his master, alone in a dark void. As the master reached out, the boy could feel his mind invaded; ripped open and torn as his very essence was stolen. The scene shifted again. Now the boy was dressed in filthy rags, his hair long and unkempt, broken sunglasses atop his nose. An elderly beggar grasped his thin arm like a vise, as his mind was invaded. This time it was not emptied, this time it was filled; with desperation, and pain, and confusion, and things that he did not recognize as his own. The grasp tightened, ignorant of his pain, and new things filled boy's mind, things deeply dark and deeply disgusting. The hand gripping his arm morphed from skeletal and wrinkled to large and muscular; from female to male. This terror was too much and the conscious awoke from its slumber, fighting the subconscious, it tried to rise from the darkness. It rejected the images and shoved them into the recesses of the mind, struggling for control.

Belle's arm flew towards her purse, hand automatically searching for a weapon as she felt the weight of a body brush over her. It wasn't until the bathroom door audibly closed that she realized it was only Remy, who had taken a short-cut over top of her slumbering body. She sighed, returned her gun to her purse, and pulled out a hair tie. She followed the sound of retching to the bathroom door and knocked lightly, not wanting to startle him. "Remy? Cher, ya' all right?… Husband, please answer me," she pleaded unwilling to go in and risk scaring him. She still didn't know if this was physical or emotional. "I'm a'right," a soft voice responded. He hadn't immediately given her an excuse. This wasn't physical and he wasn't trying to pass it off as such. That wasn't a good sign. She entered, pulled his hair back for him, and busied herself wetting a washcloth with cool water to give him a moment to compose himself. All men had their pride. She sat down beside him, "Want to talk about it." "Non." It was bad then. She didn't ask anymore questions. She just sat quietly next to him, rubbing his back.

Room 513

Logan released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he heard the safety device on the gun being reset. For a moment, he'd been afraid he'd have to clean up an accidental blood bath. His senses had told them there were still only two people in the room, but that hadn't stopped him from wanting to rush into the room and make sure no one was grievously injured before this mess was sorted out. He still wasn't completely convinced these kids were their culprits, but he wasn't about to let any members of SHIELD die on his watch either, and the ease with which the girl had pulled that gun didn't make her look particularly innocent. He retracted the portions of his claws instinctively poking out of his knuckles and returned to his room, glad that he'd refrained from actually breaking their door down and giving himself away. He continued to listen in on them, and was startled to here the girl call the other husband. Surely, these kids weren't married. He had to admit that they seemed fairly serious and they lacked most of the typical awkwardness that normal couples their age exhibited, but he'd assumed that was because they were focused on things going on outside their relationship. They were way too young to be married; it was probably some game they played based on future intentions. He would never understand kids. Logan needed to know more about them. Logan made a mental note to find out what else SHIELD had dug up on the girl's parents, the boy's adopted father, and the kids' connection to one another. He needed to know what was going on in New Orleans.

Room 514

"Ya' ready to go back to bed, cher?" Belle asked her husband quietly. "Oui," Remy replied, "mais 'm gonna shower first." "K," the blonde said and rested her hand lightly on his shoulder for a moment, before exiting the bathroom. She listened as the shower turned on, then borrowed Remy's laptop to email her brother Julien. She told her brother that the job had gone well, with no complications, and that she was planning on taking a few days to sightsee before returning home, and that he should convince her teachers that she had mono. She turned off the computer and went to bed, knowing her spouse would join her eventually.

SHIELD Base, 41 km Outside of Kyoto

Fury frowned as he received a request for more detailed information on the families of the two suspects.(2) Both families were 'old money' families. They had been consistently wealthy for years. On paper the wealth appeared to be maintained by the profit of well made investments. Both families were either extremely stock savvy or extremely lucky, but there was no indication that the money came from questionable sources; every penny was accounted for. Fury's men were comparing changes in the Boudreaux accounts to records of unsolved assassinations and attempted assassinations, for the past 200 years, trying to find any sort of pattern. They were also searching recent financial transactions of Belladonna, her immediate family, and Remy LeBeau; attempting to trace a money trail back to Japan or any major business that might be involved with the environmental disaster predicted by the deceased. Neither search was proving to be fruitful. They were also attempting find the person/company/companies that had hired the assassin, in order to track the money trail to the responsible party. This particular task was made exceedingly difficult by the sheer number of businesses, corporations, and monetary transactions taking place on any given day. They had no idea where to start. Fury's team's overtime hours had skyrocketed as they added yet another line of investigation without anymore personnel. They were now attempting to delve into the business transactions of the small companies owned by both the LeBeaus and the Boudreauxs. Marius Boudreaux, father of Belladonna, owned and ran a bank. Jean Luc LeBeau owned a small company that manufactured security systems. The initial interest in this detail was subdued by learning that the company didn't have a single design on hand that wasn't at least one or two steps behind the newest technological advancement. The company was, in fact, disappointingly mediocre. As far as immediate family was concerned; Julien Boudreaux worked for his father, and Henry LeBeau ran a small trade shop that had been in the family for generations and was kept for tradition rather than profitability. Both Marius and Jean Luc had lost their wives. Mercy LeBeau apparently supplied her husband's store with handcrafted quilts and other handicrafts. There were several other small businesses and restaurants owned by the extended family of both clans. The only thing interesting about this was that very few members of either family worked outside the family businesses. Unfortunately, none of the businesses appeared to be fronts for anything shady. The normal surveillance had yet to provide anything either. All communication within the families and every bit of contact the young couple had with the outside world was being monitored. The bugs planted within the couples hotel room were useless. No matter how many times they were replaced, they malfunctioned, with no sign of tampering. SHIELD's technicians had given up on discerning the cause of the malfunctions and speculated that the boy's mutation must disrupt them somehow through his presence. Fury had already included all known information in the files he left with his friend. He sighed and began a report for Wolverine on their progress. It would be short, they hadn't made any.

1. This is not meant to imply that modern Geisha are abused in any manner. Quite frankly, I know very little about the subject. This is supposed to Remy subconsciously reacting to the heavy makeup and servile attitude. He is projecting his own issues onto someone else. Please do not be offended.

2. Belle is a suspect for the assassination of the environmentalist. Remy is a suspect for destruction of evidence.

A/N II: Due to popular demand, Rogue and Remy will go on at least one date. (sighs in resignation) That's what I get for not making up my own mind.

Does anyone have any suggestions on what immediate, world-threatning, ecological disaster could be caused by a handful of businesses? I'm drawing a blank, but it will be somewhat important later. I don't care about scientific accuracy so long as their is some grounding in logical thought. It would really help me out, thanks.