Professor Charles Xavier was in his room. He'd changed into his pajamas and was sipping his evening tea and reading the latest genetics journal he'd received. A tap on his window pane was the only warning he got before a familiar red-head popped his head through the window. "Hey, Wheels, up f' a game?" Gambit asked waving at the chessboard. He was perched in the sill with a grin. He held a bottle of wine and glasses in his hand.
"Come in, Gambit," Xavier responded, setting aside the journal. He rolled to the table and set up the pieces. Remy settled down across from him and opened the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses.
"I take black," he said. The professor nodded. Jean touched the professor's mind to see if he needed help getting into bed. He sent her off. He felt her amusement as she realized he was with the mansion's resident thief. "Tell Jeannie, Bon suir."
"I will. She says goodnight, Remy." He edited out the "don't stay up too late." The thief grinned at him. They played for about two hours. The professor was glad to find an opponent that matched him. He suppressed a yawn, but Remy glanced at the clock.
"I dink we best be getting t' bed, non?"
"Yes, that would be a good idea." Remy helped the professor into the bed with the ease of practice. He tucked the older man in, then settled down next to him. "Now, what are you plotting?"
"Moi?"
"Vous. You never bring that good of a wine unless you want something." Gambit shut off the lights and snuggled into the spare pillows on the professor's bed. It was rather like having a cat, the professor reflected. A Gambit took possession of whatever place he was in and seemed to think the residents were merely there for his amusement. The Cajun was smoothing the blankets along the professor's side absently as he gathered his thoughts.
"Well, dere's been so much tension in de house lately, dat Gambit be dinkin' dat it need t' be released."
"Tension?"
"Oui. 'Tween Scotty, Logan, an' Jeannie, at least."
"What are you talking about?" Xavier felt his stomach tense.
"Professeur! Y' seen it. I know y' dink about dem. Scotty and Jeannie at least. Dey a cute couple. An' de tension 'tween Scott and Logan is..." Remy paused searching for the right word. "palpable. Dey don' know dat dey can jus' take care of it. Scott, he worry what y' dink of 'im if he wit' bot' Jean an' Logan. But dink about what dey be like toget'er. Tall an' t'in wit' short an' strong wit' de willowy curves o' Jeannie." Xavier was thinking. He blamed it on the wine, but damn it, the boy's hand was ranging lower than was strictly necessary.
Gambit's hand rested on the professor's groin as he thought. It seemed innocent enough, but Xavier wasn't sure. He wished he could find away through the damnedable quicksilver shields that the thief had up. "Jeannie, she afraid dat she not bein' true t' Scotty dough she love bot' o' dem. Dink o' y' favorite girl 'tween dose two. Dey be drivin' her crazy. And den her shields slip an' y' can feel her. She feels so good, she be flyin'. De boys dey be workin' toget'er wit'out any trouble for de first time in f'ever. Scott's fingers trailin' over her body. What he feelin' is pourin' int' Jeannie an' y' know what he feels. Her skin be so soft an' his fingers dey so sensitive. He can feel de tremors in 'er afore she climbs towards bliss. De rough calluses on de Wolverine, dey leavin' trails o' fire along her skin. She be flushed an' dey not don' wit' her yet." Remy's fingers moved lightly as he spoke, his voice soft and hypnotically low. "Her hair fallin' free 'round her shoulders, she rises up and dey move t' hold 'er like a goddess dat dey be worshipin'. Her body be tight. She shudderin' as dey start t' follow deir fingers wit' deir mouths. She can taste 'erself on Scott's lips. Logan's tongue whips 'round her nipples." The professor closed his eyes and groaned softly. "An' she pull Logan int' de link. Dey feel each oder as dey slid int' 'er. She can move, but she don' care. She use de TK t' keep her weight feather light. When dey move she be flying. She so slick an' tight. 'er face be thrown back, 'er breath pantin'. Her chest be moving up and down as she try t' catch 'er breat', but it don' work. She flushed pink. Don' y' wan' her t' be in dat bliss? T' f'get dat dere be so much sadness in 'er?" Remy purred. "I can do dat, Prof. Remy can get dem toget'er," he whispered.
"Yes, fine, do it," Xavier gasped as he climaxed and passed out. Remy removed the bottle and glasses and went down to the kitchen. Rogue was waiting for him.
"So?"
"'e said 'yes.'" They high-fived and Rogue led him to her room. She knew the flush in his face and the half-lidded eyes for what they represented.
"Tell me what yah told him, sugah," she said as she changed into her silk gloves and stroked down Remy's stubbled face. His voice started to fill the room with rough whiskey. They ended up curled together.
*****
Logan was hunting. His beer and the remote control for the television were missing. He knew who took them. There was only one thief stupid enough to try to get away with it. He found the aforementioned thief curled up on the couch in the library, the beer by his feet the remote in his lap. He had the gall to be reading. He looked up with a mild smile. "'Alo, Logan," he greeted.
Snikt. Logan's claws were out. Bobby and Rogue cleared out so quickly that they left a vacuum in the room. The door slammed behind them, but Logan ignored it. He was growling. The opening of a bottle of beer distracted him. The beer and remote were offered up willingly. "Sit down, mon ami. Gambit wan' t' have a talk wit' y'."
"Ya coulda just asked me." Logan said downing most of the beer.
"But den ot'ers be askin' what we be talkin' about. Dis way dey dink dat Gambit just be quick-talkin' 'is way outta a beatin'."
"Then I'd be getting ta it." The Cajun patted the couch.
"Sit down. Remy be dinkin' dat dere be a lot o' tension in de house lately. He wan' t' know somet'ing."
Logan sat down and glared when the younger man got closer. Then he realized that the boy was probably just cold. He didn't seem to have any resistance to the winter weather. He had been hibernating for the past month. He hadn't gone out on the town for weeks. "So?"
"Remy wan' t' know what be between Logan and Scotty. Hav' y' done it, or just been dinkin' 'bout it?"
Logan choked on his beer. "I think y' got yer messages scrambled, kid."
"Non, old man. Remy watch better den dat. I seen y' lookin' at him. Y' watch 'im in de Danger Room when he be workin' out. Y' watch him when he be workin' on 'is bike. Y' look at 'im de same way y' look at Jeannie. So de t'ree o' y' toget'er or non?"
"Ain't never gonna happen."
"Gambit dink he can get it t' happen. Dink about seein' Scotty goin' wild fer y'. He be layin' dere. He don' have 'is visor, so Jeannie's blindfolded 'im so he don' have t' dink about it. His skin so sensitive now. Jeannie been makin' 'im ready f' y'. He don' know dat y' be watchin' him. Den, he feel y' hands. Y' mouth makin' him moan. De two o' ye be touchin' him. He can tell de difference, but it take t' much energy. He so hot f' y'. He wan' to not have t' be de one in control o' dis one. Jeannie's holdin' him f' y'. She want t' see de two o' y' toget'er. Y' touch makes him writhe. Y' want 'im so bad an' Jeannie pulls y' in. Y' can feel what he's feelin'. Y' know what Jeannie's feelin'. Dey bot' so hot f' ye, Ole Man. Dey wan' it bad. Dey linked toget'er. Jeannie feels y' hands on 'er when y' touch Scotty. Scotty feel it when y' kiss Jeannie. He reach out t' pull y' down t' him, but Jeannie holds dose sensitive fingers away fr' ye. Y' wan' him don' y'? Gambit he know." Gambit reflected back the lust he could feel rolling off of Logan. The added stimulus just heightened the feelings. "Gambit do dis f' y', Logan. He get Scotty and Jeannie toget'er f' y'. Y' like dat?"
Logan curled his fingers into Remy's hair and pulled back. His claws pressed against the vulnerable neck. "Ya better not be shittin' me, Kid."
"Non, M. Logan. Gambit not lyin' t' y'. He want one ding in payment."
"An' that is?" Logan was suspicious.
"Details, y' got t' tell Remy all 'bout what 'appens." Logan grinned.
"Ya not getting ya quota?"
"Dere be only so much y' can do with silk 'tween y'," Remy pouted. Warren walked in on the scene. Logan was snarling, holding Gambit very much as his mercy. A small trickle of blood was running down the Cajun's neck from where a claw had pricked him. "Gambit promise, Logan."
"Fine. Ya break that promise, you an' me got a Danger Room appointment. Unnerstand?"
"D'accord, Wolvie." Logan threw the thief away from himself, collected his beer and the remote and stomped towards the kitchen, shoving Warren out of the way.
"Christ! Are you okay, Remy?" Angel might not trust the Cajun, but he didn't want to be a witness to murder.
"I be fine, Angel," Remy said. He rubbed at his neck. "Y' seen Scotty?"
"He was in with the professor when I saw him last."
"Merci." Remy pulled the quilt around him like a cape. "Mebbe Gambit can convince 'im t' turn up de heat. Jus' because he be from Alaska," the Cajun muttered. Angel grinned and went to find the book he'd come for. He looked down at the book Remy had been reading, Lady Chatterly's Lovers. He must be doing an assignment for the professor, Warren decided. He set the book on the table and threw away the empty beer bottles.
"That thief has more luck than sense."
*****
"What did you do to the professor, Remy?" Jean demanded, hands on her hips. The young man was wandering through the halls, quilt wrapped around him like a cape. He looked at her with wide eyes.
"What y' talkin' 'bout, chere?"
"He's been wandering around the mansion in a daze. And this morning, he had a hangover!"
"So he not sleep 'nough after de wine las' night. Dat not be anyt'ing new."
Scott came to stand behind his wife. "She's right, Remy, he's not acting like himself. He actually cursed this morning during our normal meeting. What happened last night?"
"Gambit an' le professeur, play chess and drink a lil'. Dat's all. Honest!" Remy protested. "Den, Remy put de professeur t' bed. Dat's it."
"Chess?" Scott asked with a raised brow. Remy glared at him.
"Y' be dinkin' dat Gambit not know how t' play chess?"
"I just never saw it. Pool, yes. Chess, no."
"Well, now y' know. Ask de professeur what he dink be wrong den, Jeannie," Gambit sniffed. His face had settled into a stubborn pout. Scott was ready to strangle him. When Remy started pouting, Rogue was soon to follow and suddenly the household would be theirs to run. Scott hated that ability.
"Fine, I will," Jean stated and went in search of her mentor. Scott moved to go to his office and Remy followed.
"Remy talk t' y' now, Fearless?"
"Fine. Come on." Scott shut the door behind the thief who took possession of the one of the visitor's chair. "What is it?"
"Gambit wan' t' talk t' y' 'bout Logan an' Jeannie."
Scott frowned. "What?"
"Gambit be wonderin' why y' not take de two o' dem t' y' bed," Remy said bluntly. "Gambit watch y' wit' Logan. He see y' study de man in de Danger Room. Y' watch him when he go stalkin' in de forest. Y' watch 'im when he wit' Jubilee. It de same look dat y' give Jeannie. Remy know y' wan' 'im. He wan' y' too. What be wrong?"
"Remy," Scott sighed. "It's not like that."
"Non? Remy dink it is. De tension is so strong. Gambit know what y' feelin' Scott. Y' so tense. Der's no need. Can' y' see it? Can' ye feel 'is hair under y' fingers? Don' y' want t' know if it be coarse or soft? Don' y' wan' t' be in Jeannie's min' when she kiss him, so dat y' can taste dem bot' at de same time? Don' y' wan' t' feel Logan's fingers o'er y' skin? He be so strong, y' don' have t' worry dat he be hurt if it get rougher. An' Jeannie, she wan' t' see de two o' y'. She wan' t' see y' toget'er. Y' know dat if she didn' dink dat she be disloyal t' y', she'd be wit' him too. Can' y' feel de two o' dem runnin' deir hands o'er y' skin?" Scott nodded unconsciously. He felt his cheeks reddening and his cock stiffening. "An' it so hot in Logan's mout'. He smell like de forest and Jeannie smell like de fire. Toget'er y' can' resist it. Dey draw y' int' dat heat. Y' don' have to worry. Jeannie can hold y' wit' 'er mind. Logan can take y' away fr' de worries. Dey let y' fly wit'out de fear, wit'out de pain. In de pleasure dere be no more sadness. Dere's no worry dat it not gon' t' last, dat dey gon' t' leave y'. All dere be is strengt' an' heat an' love. Don' y' know dat dey love y'? Dey love Scott, not Cyclops. Y' don' have t' be deir leader, just deir lover. Y' wan' dat, Scotty?"
"Oh, yes," Scott breathed. He didn't even realize that the feelings he was feeling were being magnified by Gambit's "charm" power. It wasn't that they weren't real feelings, but his inhibitions had been overwhelmed by that charm. He could practically feel muscles under his fingertips.
"Gambit do dis f' y' den, Fearless. He get dem f' y'."
Scott regained some of his wits. "Why?"
"So dat y' be too tired t' have mornin' Danger Room sessions f' a while." Scott laughed.
"Fine. If you can get them to agree to this, I'll make sure I schedule your sessions after 11." Gambit smiled and left. Scott escaped to the kitchen and took the open beer bottle out of the very surprised Wolverine's hand and swallowed it down. Logan watched his throat moving.
"Y' get Cajuned, Scott?"
"Yup. I need another beer."
"There's plenty."
*****
Jean was surprised at Scott's midday ambush in the library. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear. "I want you so badly, Sweetie." He pushed his need through their link making her shiver.
"But Scott, what if someone sees," she whispered back as he slid a hand down the front of her skirt as they looked out at the snow covered lawn. "What if they do?" She gasped at the roughness of his voice. She smelled beer on his breath, but didn't question it as she turned and kissed him. Bobby opened the door and shut it just as quickly. He quickly made a "do not disturb" sign and hung it on the door. Jean's ankle length skirt hid the garter belt Scott knew was beneath it. He stroked along the thigh that raised to pull him closer. He urged her onto the window bench.
"Now, Scott," she breathed. //Just do it fast.//
//Don't worry, Baby, that's just what I had in mind.//
Jean felt her stomach tighten. This was as close to the wildness of Logan as she'd ever felt Scott get. She sat on the bench and spread her legs. Scott scrunched the skirt up around her waist and opened his fly. He slid into her as he kissed her, hard, on the mouth. She moaned and pulled him closer with her TK. She was hot and wet and tight. Scott pumped in and out of her until she screamed into his mouth. They came together and Jean leaned back against the cold window. Scott licked his lips. She smiled a small contented little smile and pushed back the strands of hair that had fallen into her face. Scott tucked himself back in and ran a hand through his hair.
"I'll be in my office," he told her, kissing her once more. She nodded.
"I have some things to finish up here," she breathed.
*****
Remy settled down next to Rogue. His fingers encased in soft silk slid up her legs and under her short skirt. He whispered the scenes of Logan and Scott into her ear as he fingered her towards completion. The silk was barely enough to keep the cool of his fingers from shocking her overwarm skin. Rogue moaned. "More, sugah. Tell me more." He whispered dark words of fantasy into almost into her brain. He laid a scarf across her mouth and kissed her, tongue slipping between her lips. Her own hands moved towards her breasts. She shuddered and moaned when he brushed the hair away from her damp forehead. He traced her silk covered lips with his tongue and she shivered. She arched up into his touch and came. Bright stars flowed behind her eyes and she fell into a dazed, fractured consciousness. Without thought or word, she caressed Gambit's sex through his overtight jeans and he gasped.
His hands trembled as he stroked her stomach. Her fingers tightened and he moaned, "Chere, y' drivin' dis boy insane." She rolled up and straddled him. Her gloved hands opened his shirt as she pinned him with her thighs. His hands rested on her legs. He squirmed a bit as she ran touches down his sides, counting ribs. "Chere," he begged and she shook her head.
"No, boy, ya went an' got all hot an bothered without me, so ya got ta wait 'til Ah've had all mah fun." The still functioning part of Remy's brain thanked Raven for training Rogue as a teen in all the things that don't need touch to complete. Warm, wet silk covered his mouth and he opened for the kiss that usually followed. A single finger traced over his lips and pressed in, holding his tongue down for a breath. Then, he felt her other hand in his hair as she pressed him back for better access. The kiss was gentle and teasing. She pressed his jaw shut. "Now, hush." She brushed her crotch to his and he whimpered. He shut his eyes, the input far too much to handle all at once.
The silk and mouth traced along his neck and he turned his head to give her more room. She bit his ear. "I want to know what Besty and Warren do with those wings," she told him. "You'll find out for Roguie won't ya?"
"Oui, chere," he managed. His fingers flexed. He didn't worry about leaving bruises, there were some definite positives to her impenetrable skin. The pressure on his cock was finally released and the silk wrapped around it followed by the warmth of her mouth and she finally let him come. Rogue wrapped the quilt he'd brought from his own room around him and then settled herself under her comforter. Gambit eventually snuggled down closer, using her chest as his pillow. Rogue unconsciously stroked his hair.
*****
Storm and Betsy were in the kitchen when Remy came in to start lunch preparations. "You are up early," Storm commented.
"Remy got dings t' do, 'tite," he said absently as he assembled his ingredients.
"Really?" Betsy said. "Like what?"
"Getting past de defenses o' a pretty lady." They assumed that he meant Rogue. Betsy raised an eyebrow.
"Wasn't last night enough for you?"
"Chere, it ain't never enough." Betsy frowned and reached for his mind. The quicksilver shields kept his thoughts hidden, but she could sense a hunger that she couldn't understand. "So, y' two talk t' Remy, tell him 'bout your plans."
"We were going to the mall. Would you and Rogue like to accompany us?" Storm offered. They could always use someone to carry the bags. Remy's eyes narrowed.
"Oui. Remy carry your bags, chere. But y' got t' do somet'ing f' Remy when he asks."
"Agreed." Betsy grinned.
"I don't think you've got the stamina for this trip."
"Make y' a bet, 'Lizbet'."
"What terms?" the ninja demanded.
"I survive dis trip wit'out complainin' an' y' tell me 'bout y' and Warren." Storm's mouth dropped open. The model's smile grew wider.
"Agreed. It's a bet. Don't you dare back down." Remy smiled at her.
"I get Roguie after lunch. Den we leave."
"Fine. I shall go ask Jean if she wishes to come." Remy was very glad that he was facing the stove. He had a very good idea of what Jean would be feeling this morning.
*****
The mall was crowded. Christmas was three weeks away and the X-women were moving swiftly into gift buying mode. Remy momentarily regretted making the bet. But one look at what Rogue had found at the lingere store hardened his resolve. He wondered if something that sheer would work as well as the silk they both tended to favor. The saleswomen were watching Remy as he leaned casually against the wall near the fitting rooms, the five o'clock shadow on his chin, his shades and the unlit cigarette in his lips as he stood almost stock still. He was toying with them, letting his charm power ebb and flow over them. He got a sympathetic nod or two from men who had been similarly roped into carrying packages.
The security guard watched more suspiciously from two departments over. He couldn't feel the man's powers, but he had to admit, they were selling a lot quicker in the misses area with him standing there. He seemed to be accompanied by four women. They periodically came out to show off outfits. He gave them either nods or passes. The guard was curious as to which one was actually his girl. There was no way that a man like that had been dragged anywhere without it involving his woman. Eventually, the one with the opera gloves and the white stripe in her hair took his arm. She whispered into his ear and he nodded.
"Ya're doin' great, sugah. Don' let me down." She rubbed her knee against his crotch as he lifted her hand to his lips. "Ah wish ya didn't have ta wear those glasses."
Remy shrugged. "We do what we must, non? Did ya decide ta take de blue dress den?"
"No, Ah don' like the straps. Ah'll stop at the leather store. They had a nice one theah." Remy nodded.
"Remy," Jean said, "we're going to split up for a while. You are coming with me." He raised a brow at Rogue.
"No, sugah. You an' Jeannie are goin' ta the auto shop. Ah've still got ta do mah shoppin' fah you." She winked.
"Dought y' did dat at de lacy store," he purred at her. She laughed.
"That's not waitin' f' Christmas," she answered. "Now, go." Remy gathered up the shopping bags and Jean took his arm. She was quite aware of the stir they were creating.
"Y' gon' t' be givin' Remy a bad name, chere. An' I don' know what Scotty an Logan will dink if dey see us toget'er like dis." Jean laughed. It was a pure sound and Remy was glad to hear it. She heard Rogue's thoughts that were directed at her. //Just remember, sugah, Ah don't share without details.//
"Now why would Logan have anything to say about us?" she asked.
"Logan an' Scotty, dey both love de pretty lady," he said with an eloquent shrug. He'd damped down his charm, but he could read her emotions clearly. "Dey so wrapped up in y' dat dey get protective 'nough t' kill."
"Remy, they know Rogue would kill you if you were unfaithful."
"Oui." She got serious suddenly.
"Remy, are you and Rogue okay. I mean, really okay? There have been so many ups and downs lately and she nearly put you through the wall a couple of weeks ago."
"She jus' get frustrated, chere. She wan' control so badly, but she don' know how. It scare her still. And Remy, he forgets. He touch her when she not expectin' it an' she react like he attack her. She worry dat she gon' t' 'urt me." Remy felt Jean squeeze his arm.
"Throwing your lover across the room is not exactly an appropriate response to an affectionate touch."
"Chere, she don' know affection dat way. Dat's all Gambit ever known. We workin' on it. We find de way, Jean. But, t'anks f' askin'. But quid pro quo, Jeannie." Jean felt a queasy churning begin in her stomach.
"So ask."
"Why y' not be in bed wit' bot' Logan an' Scotty?"
"Remy!" she exclaimed.
"Don' y' even dink 'bout it, chere?"
"I never... well, sometimes. Yes, I've wondered, but Remy, that's just not right."
"Why y' live by dose rules, chere? Dey love y' and y' love dem."
"What would people think?"
"Finally?" She smacked his arm.
"Be serious."
"Remy be serious, chere. Y' make a good trio. What y' dink it be like, Jeannie?" he asked as they turned into the auto shop.
"I... I'm not sure. I've never... you know... with Logan." She blushed.
"Ah, chere, I know y' got 'magination. Come on, y' tell Remy."
"Just help me find these things, then we'll get some coffee and I'll tell you, okay?"
"Sure ding, chere. Where de list?"
"Here."
"Merci. Remy leave de packages wit' y'?" Jean nodded and leaned against the wall. She did a good approximation of the position Remy had had in Macy's. He smirked at her and grabbed a basket. It took him less time than Jean had been expecting, but she saw things in the basket that she knew weren't on her list. He waved her over to the counter and placed her things on it. "Dese be f' y' boys and dese be f' me."
"Thanks," she said and paid for her purchases. She watched to make sure that Remy paid for all of his purchases. She couldn't see him roll his eyes at her. "Shall we take a run back to the car?"
"Oui, chere. Dat be good. Den Gambit fin' y' some coffee an' we talk."
"Darn. I was hoping you'd forget."
"Non, dis be one story dat Remy's gonna get all of." They finally settled into seats at the small café in the middle of the mall. "Now, y' be de one talkin'. What y' dink it be like?"
"I'm not sure. All I know is that I want to be in the middle. To feel both of them in me." Remy nodded encouragingly. She shrugged. "I don't really have any idea what it would be like."
"Y' want t' fly 'tween dem, feel deir hands all o'er y'. Feel Logan kissin' y' and Scott wantin' 'im to. Y' wan' t' know how hot dey be f' y'," Remy purred. Jean resisted the pull of his charm.
"Something like that."
"There you two are," Betsy said. She had both hands full of bags, as did Rogue and Storm. Rogue asked a question with a tilt of her head and Remy gave her a small shake of the head. She pouted. He went to collect the bags from them so that they could get their own drinks.
"No peakin', sugah," Rogue ordered as she was relieved of her packages. By the time the bags were at the table, the spell had been broken. Remy nearly growled in frustration, but swallowed it, covering with a cheerful smile.
"Now, y' four stay here. Remy gon' take dese to de car, den do 'is shoppin' f' y'all. D'accord?" The women agreed to that and when he was gone Betsy commented:
"My feet are killing me. I can't believe that the Cajun is actually winning this bet!"
"Bet?" Jean asked. Betsy showed her the scene in the kitchen. "Oh, Betsy, Gambit went shopping for twelve hours straight about six months ago and came back with over two thousand in merchandise. And that was just for him and Rogue."
"I thought with there being four of us we could do it. I will win this or collapse trying!" she declared. "I am going to shut down this mall."
Rogue snickered. "So what are we gonna do fer dinner?" she asked.
"The food court," Storm decided. She didn't like the press of the crowds, but it was better than suffering through the debate of where to eat. Remy was back within the hour with a jeweler's bag in one hand and a music bag in the other. They continued on their marathon shopping session until Betsy admitted defeat.
"You win. I give up, Remy."
"Merci Dieu!" Gambit stated and set down the packages. "Y' all heard 'er. She los' de bet."
"Yes, we will witness it," Storm stated. She smiled at her brother. She knew he was feigning exhaustion for the benefit of his audience. He was making sure that Betsy didn't feel too bad for underestimating him.
*****
Curled up in the library with cocoa and tea, Elizabeth Braddock, psychic ninja, shadow-dancer, and X-man, spilled her guts to the Cajun thief she didn't trust further than she could throw. "Well, Warren's not really all that adventurous," she warned.
"Dat don' matter. Tell me about de wings."
Psylocke smiled. "Sometimes, when we have nowhere to be and nothing to do, we go to the country. It's the best in the fall, when the leaves have just started to turn. We will go into the forest and find a clearing. He'll unfurl his wings and shelter me under them as I undress. Then, he'll strip down. He runs his hands all over me. There's no where he doesn't caress me. The wings shimmer in the light. The leaves swirl around us. The sun shines down, but it's still cold. The heat radiates off of his wings. The flancettes will stiffen up, like he's going to throw them and that's when I know. I brace myself and he lifts us high into the air. He rolls around in the air like it was a swimming pool. The colors swirl around and the ground seems like a foolishness I can do with out. The wind whips around and over my skin. It feels like his hands, soft and gentle in one place, harsh and insistent in the next. I spread my legs and mount him, spinning in the air. He whispers into my ear and I can see directly into his head. I know what I feel like to him. I can feel my body through his hands. The vertigo makes it impossible for me to understand the meaning of up and down any longer.
"My body feels so light. I wrap my legs around his waist and that draws him in deeper. He drives in and out of me as the air currents buffet us to and fro. The wind through my hair is his hands. He folds down his wings and we dive. As he pulls us up out of the dive, just a few feet from the ground, I come, milking him within me. As I shudder he rises one more time and comes, then flips us so that he is on his back and heads back down to earth. We lie in the fallen leaves staring up at the sky and his wings cover over me, like a blanket." Her eyes glazed as she spoke and Remy recorded every color change in her skin and every variation in the emotions that vibrated off of her. He kissed her hand gently and left her to her reminiscences. He had to find Rogue.
Rogue was in her room rearranging her stuffed animals to incorporate the new ones she'd found on sale. He ran his hands down her arms and she spun to hit him. He flipped neatly out of the way of her fist. Her face softened. "Oh, it's jus' ya. Come heah sugah." She brushed the hair from his forehead. "Ya have somethin' ta tell, Roguie right?"
"Oui, chere," he murmured, as he changed his gloves. She ran her hands under his coat. Betsy wandered by and stopped to watch. "Y' dance wit' me, Rogue?" She nodded. Remy waltzed her around the room and into the hall. He spun and dipped her with ease. She was laughing freely now as they spun and spun. Betsy watched with an amused smile. Warren came to meet her halfway and watched the couple dancing. He raised his brows and swept a bow to his girl. She curtsied and they joined the waltz for a few minutes, dancing to the music in their heads. Eventually, Gambit led Rogue back to her room and shut the door. He watched her change and dropped his coat to the floor.
*****
Jean watched Scott and Logan in the Danger Room below her. Remy was perched on the chair next to her. His chin rested on her shoulder. "Look at dem, chere. Look at how Logan move. He be like de wolf he named f'. He stalkin' right now. Y' see it? Look at him sniffin' at de air. He know what his prey be doin'. He know dat Scott not be scared o' him, but he can smell 'im. He knows de man's scent, jus' like he know y'rs. He know when y' be hurtin' an' he wan' t' take y' hurt away. He know when Scotty mad enough t' kill even when he not be sayin' it. He take dat anger. He take all dat force. He like it. He know dat he can heal. He don' care when he fight wit' Scotty. He never hurt 'is boy. He know dat Scott look f' dat release.
"Y' see how dey dance 'round each ot'er. Scott know dat Wolvie be playin' wit' him. Dey drawin' out de game. Dey wan' t' have tension. De one dat make de air be electric when dey in de room toget'er. Y' feel dat, chere?" She nodded, pulled into the spell. "Oh, look at how Scotty smilin'. He havin' fun. Dere's no danger dere. He knows dat Wolvie not gon' t' be hurt if he let go. Dink how he look when he let go f' y'. When he lay dere in de bed waitin' f' y'. He so gentle when he touch y'. Now watch him. He no' so gentle wit' Logan. Look at dem. Dey bot' be feral dere. Scotty like t' let loose. He wan' t' be rough, but he los' y' once. He not willin' t' risk dat again.
"But Logan can make 'im wild. Y' know how good dat feel, non? When he no' care so much about how y' be?"
"Oh, yes," Jean breathed, remembering a few days before.
"Logan make 'im do dat. What y' dink? Y' dink dat Scotty let go if Logan kiss y'? Y' dink dey fight o' y'?"
"No, Logan already said he won't come between us."
"Non? Den what if y' come between dem?" Jean flushed. "Scott gentle, running 'is hands up and down y' front. His cock settled in y', jus' waitin' f' his partner? Logan behind y', thick fingers scraping down y' shoulders. His fingers strokin' de small o' y' back?" Remy's hand drifted down her back, fingers stroking lightly through her blouse. "Y' feel him in y' so hot an' thick. He fill y' up. Dey can feel each ot'er in y'. De pressure o' de two o' dem in y' buildin' 'til y' just got t' move. But dey won' let y'. Logan reach 'round t' touch y' belly. His ot'er hand pullin' y' head back so he can bite y' t'roat. Scott's fingers, so sensitive, brushin' up y' back, his mout' at y' breasts."
Jean gasped.
"Y' wan' dem t' kiss y', to let y' move, but dey won'. Y' deirs now. Dey won' let y' move. Can y' feel dem in y'?" She nodded as she watched the deadly dance unfolding below her overlaid by the fantasies that fill her ears and mind. "Y' wan' t' touch dem. Y' run y' fingers along Scotty's throat, y' hol' him t' y' chest, fingers in 'is hair. Y' feel reach up t' hold Logan's hand 'gainst y' head. Y' moan den?" She nodded. "Y' groan an' beg dem to let y' move, but dey not ready f' dat yet. Dey string it out an' y' feel de tingles up and down y' spine..." Beep. Remy stopped talking as the door announced that someone was asking for entrance into the room. It was Storm. Remy glared at her as Jean put a hand to her head. "If you'll excuse me," she said with the calmness the professor had taught her. She left and went straight to Gambit's room. She locked the door and relieved the pressure that had been building within her. She knew she had at least another forty-five minutes to get herself under control and rushed to the boathouse to shower and change.
*****
Scott and Logan came to the control room to analyze their fight. Logan sniffed the air. The scent of Jeannie's pheromones went straight to his groin. He could smell the Cajun as well and knew he was angry and frustrated. But Jean wasn't in the room. Storm was there and she was in shock. Her mouth was open wide and she was staring at the Thief. Her mind was having trouble wrapping around the concept, but she knew she had to find a way to respond. "Dere's gonna be a blizzard, non, Stormy?" She didn't say anything. "Ororo Monroe answer me!" Remy snapped, crossing his arms.
"Yes, Remy," she said. She lowered her eyes and gave him her best innocent schoolgirl expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Scotty, is Jeannie in de building?" Scott checked. He nodded.
"Now, 'tite. Start de snow patterns so dat dey have 'nough time t' get o'er here. So dat de weat'er stations say it gon' ta be a bad one. Dat way Scott have reason t' move Jeannie and he back t' de main house." Storm nodded in a shell shocked manner and reached for the weather patterns. It wasn't hard to create the storm. "An' 'tite, y' don' be tellin' Jeannie what I tell y'."
"Of course not, my brother." Storm excused herself. Scott and Logan watched her go. The door shut behind her and Remy collapsed into his chair.
"Ya get to caught up in dat charm, kid?" Logan grinned. The dirty look the younger man sent him told him that he was damned to Hell for all eternity. He snickered. The scent in the room though made it necessary for him to hold himself with iron control. The fight had started his arousal, the pheromones reinforced it. The glowering look on the Cajun's face made it clear that Storm had interrupted something important.
"What happened to Jean?" Scott asked running the tape back.
"Stormy interfered," Remy stated. He muttered under his breath. "I was so damn close dis time!" Logan patted his shoulder sympathetically. "So, y' two have fun down dere today, non? It better when y' admit dat y' wan' each ot'er." Logan's eyes narrowed.
"Watch it, Kid."
"Come on, y' tell Gambit. Y' two waitin' on 'er, or y' already talk?" Gambit pressed.
"Gambit!" Scott snapped. He was blushing. Logan looked him up and down.
"Not yet, Kid. We're getting around to it." Gambit locked the door.
"Y' talk now. Tell Gambit y' fantasies." He perched on a chair. "Scotty wan' a wild Logan or de big softy we know he be? Logan, y' wan' t' have t' hold him down? Remy don't care. Y' tell him."
"Not in this lifetime, Gambit."
"Come on, Scotty. Dis be good f' y'. Logan know how t' please y'."
"No, Gumbo. It's not gonna happen. Now git. We got a fight t' review." Crimson eyes studied both of the men in turn. He pouted.
"Non, Remy gonna miss de good stuff he leave now!"
"Git." Logan popped out his claws.
"Y' not gonna kill Remy 'til he get de girl f' y'." Gambit stated. He crossed his arms. Logan grabbed him by the collar and shook him.
"I never said I'd kill ya. I'm just gonna cut ya a little. Maybe Rogue'd like t' watch?" Remy winced.
"Fine. Remy leave. Y' don' appreciate what Gambit go t'rough f' y'," he sniffed. It didn't work. Logan still dropped him outside the room and then locked the door.
*****
"So, Logan, what is your deep dark fantasy anyway?" Scott asked, with a glance over his shoulder.
"'bout you or 'bout killin' the kid?" Scott grinned.
"Oh, they're on the same level? I don't know whether to be flattered or not." Logan smiled.
"Lust is lust whether it involves blood or not. But just so ya know, I rate you higher than the Cajun brat."
"So, tell me."
"Ya know those jeans you were wearing the other day when you were working on the car? The ones with the rip at the knee?" Scott nodded. "Yer wearing 'em and some old tee, just slumming 'round the house. Doin' the odd jobs that we don't hire out fer. Yer up on the roof cleanin' up leaves or cigarette butts or somethin'. It's summer. Ya can hear the basketball game on the roof. An' if anyone looked up they'd see ya. Ya don't know I'm watchin' ya up there. I'm near 'ro's greenhouse. I can smell y' from across the roof. Yer happy. I can't smell the stress on y'. Yer smiling. Ya only do that when we're not lookin' or yer with Jeannie.
"Ya don't hear me come up behind ya, so when I touch yer arm ye get startled. I have to grab ya ta keep ya from going over the edge and ya end up in my arms. Ya don't pull away like I expect ya to. And ya smile at me fer once. Ya don't stop me from kissin' ya. Ya go down on yer knees fer me. Ya look so damned innocent and hot at the same time. Ya run yer hands down my bare chest ta my pants. Ya lick yer lips and I know what yer gonna do. I don't say anything. I'm afraid of breaking the spell. Ya open my pants and kiss my cock, real gentle. Ya investigate it with yer fingers and yer mouth until I'm so hot that I'm growling and I want to ram my cock into yer mouth. I growl. I can see the game still going on. No one's lookin' at us, but part of me wants 'em to. I want 'em to know what yer doin'. That yer on yer knees fer me.
"I get ta run my fingers through yer hair. Finally, ya take me inta yer mouth an' I want ta scream. Yer hot. I try ta control the rhythm, but yer takin' yer own sweet time about things. My legs start ta tremble and I have ta bit my tongue not to scream and draw attention to us. I can smell ya wantin' me. Ya won't let me come and I want ta so bad. I hold ya to me by yer hair, but ya stop suckin' when I do that, so I have ta let ya go. When ya finally let me come, I explode and ya swallow it. A drip of my come is on your chin and I wipe it away with my tongue before I finally kiss ya sweet and deep." It wasn't just Jean's pheromones in the room anymore. Logan inhaled deeply. "Wanna make some of my dreams come true, Boy?" he growled.
Scott smiled and leaned over. "But it's not summer," he said innocently. Logan growled and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He kissed him, hard and deep and Scott moved to accommodate the kiss. When Logan stopped breathing for him, he gasped. "It shouldn't be too much longer to wait, Logan," he whispered. Logan growled. "Time to review the tape." Scott settled much closer than was strictly necessary to see the tape and Logan could feel the heat of the younger man's skin against his own.
*****
The professor found Gambit sulking in his room. Xavier actually found himself pausing at the entrance to his own room and wondered about what emotion caused it. It wasn't fear. It was more like he'd forgotten why he was coming to the room in the first place. It would have worked if it had been any other room in the mansion. It did not work on his "home turf", if you will. The young man was curled up under an old quilt that was showing it's age with small tears and faded greens. He was sitting on the professor's bed staring at nothing and frowning.
Xavier knew the look. The boy was plotting. Usually, it ended up in the professor actually losing the chess match. Tonight the board wasn't even set up. Xavier rolled close to the bed. He reached out and for once the shields let him catch impressions. There was a powerful mix of emotions tied up behind those shields and they were barely strong enough to hold them in. Frustrated rage, Frustrated love, Confusion, Love, Hate, Fear, Chagrin, Guilt, Sadness, Hunger. As Logan would have said, he smelled blood.
Xavier went about his normal routine. He dismissed Jean's inquiry with a pleasant "good night" and turned to his guest. Remy hadn't moved. His eyes were a little more focused now. He must have made some conclusions. Unfortunately, that resolve tightened the shields again. "Remy?" the professor said softly. The young mutant looked up. Remy settled the older man into the bed and curled up under his quilt next to him. Xavier shut off the lights. "Goodnight, Remy."
"Night, Sir," he replied.
*****
Xavier wasn't sure what woke him, but he laid still for a moment listening. A little sniff from the bundle next to him alerted him to Gambit's continued presence. He was dreaming. He was crying in his sleep. The hunger was strong and swirling and the professor felt himself being trapped by the unconscious webs the boy spun out. He felt his affection being drawn to the surface and understood the capture for the protection it was. Even in his sleep Gambit was "charming," people. It was a sound policy. Make your enemy love you and he is not your enemy. But your lover could turn to your enemy. Xavier thought about his best friend and worst enemy, Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto.
"Why don' y' tell 'im y' still love 'im?" Remy asked, half awake.
"Because it can not happen, Remy. We can not be lovers anymore."
"Y' bring Magneto t' y' side before, y' can do it again," the Cajun assured. "He love y'. Dat's why he wear de bucket, so y' don' know dat he can' bring 'imself t' 'urt y'. He 'urts so much when he look at y'." Gambit cuddled under the professor's arm, like a child. "Y' 'urt when y' dink o' him. Dat's no way t' live. Don' let de love 'urt so bad."
"It's not that simple. Our dreams are incompatible. I don't expect you to understand..."
"Remy, he marry an Assassin, Professor. Y' know what dat mean? Remy be a T'ief. Dey hated us. My wife's brot'er, he try t' kill me. My own wife don' remember me. I know what de pain be. I dought she be dead, but den she be back an' don' remember me as anyt'ing but a T'ief that deserve t' die if I cross 'er. Dat don' mean I don' love 'er. I can' touch my Roguie eit'er. Dat don' make it wrong t' try t' love 'er. Jus' because he don' dink de same way don' mean y' can love each ot'er. It be better dat y' admit it."
"And are you proposing to have this discussion with him as well?" Remy nodded.
"I do dat, next time I see 'im," he said seriously.
"And how is your current project progressing?" Remy snorted.
"Oh, it be goin' jus' fine t'day. Dat is til Stormy show up in de middle o' somet'ing important. I dink I be getting t'rough t' Jeannie finally. De boys not de problem. Stormy makin' me a storm so dat I have all t'ree o' dem in de house f' de duration. Mebbee I wrap dem up an' put dem under de Christmas tree f' 'er. Dink she get de message den?"
"She's usually more perceptive than that," the professor commented, smiling. His smile eased some of the leaking pain, he could still feel from the young man he held.
"Well, she not always dink right. De boys, dey turn 'er on dough. It not so bad as it seem I don' dink. But I wan' t' put Stormy o'er my knee like she still de chile I knew. Back den she ne'er interfered in a con."
Xavier laughed softly. "Go back to sleep, Remy. It's too early to be up. Not even Scott is awake yet."
"Damned mornin' person. 'Night, Prof." Jean was only slightly surprised to find Remy curled up on the professor's bed. He had a tendency to sleep wherever he ended up for the night. He kept quilts hidden around the mansion and no one was quite sure where he put them. One good thing, she supposed, was that he didn't steal the covers. "Mornin', Jeannie. How y' sleep?"
"Fine, Remy." Scott had been especially enthusiastic and they'd both been exhausted when the alarm rang. Remy gave her a knowing look and crawled off of the bed and went back to his own room.
Rogue was asleep in his bed. Remy smiled looking down at her. He curled up next to her and they slept a few more hours. Rogue stroked his hair as he slept and he arched into the touch. "Ya have things ta tell me," she whispered and disappeared.
*****
Bobby was in the den watching the morning cartoons when the storm warnings came on. The blizzard that was approaching was predicted to snow in the Eastern Seaboard. He frowned. It was odd that Storm hadn't mentioned something about it. Maybe she had and he'd just missed it. Bobby knew something was up. Scott and Logan had been walking around and snapping at people. The tension that was usually between them had been heightened by something and Bobby didn't know what it was.
Storm had wandered through the room with a glazed look in her eyes on the way to the kitchen. She hadn't even said "good morning." Bobby noted that she had the same sort of glaze that Jean had been wearing when she came to get the professor's breakfast. In fact, even the professor had been acting oddly. It was time to track down the information. There was only one person to confront and that would have to wait a few hours.
Bobby laid in wait by the Cajun's door. He may not have the patience of Wolverine or even Gambit, but he knew how to wait for his prey. Bobby was a prankster. That meant he knew how to plan, how to stalk his prey until he knew their routine, and what to do to make his prey react the way he wanted. He also knew how to watch. Remy was alone, finally. Rogue had left him in his room. Bobby knew that it was now or never. Remy'd be smoking by the window, with a pleased little smile on his face. He'd be so mellow that he wouldn't throw anyone out of his room. Probably not even Sabretooth if the man showed up.
Bobby sat on the pile of old quilts that Remy used on his bed. At the foot of it was crazy quilt of satin and velvet. That was the only one that made any sense. The thief smiled mildly at him. His crimson eyes were half-lidded. "Oui, Bobby?"
"Morning, Remy. So, spill it. What's going on? And what can I do to help?"
"I don't dink I be tellin' y' dat." Remy grinned at him, eyes more alert. "Y' always spoil m' plans."
"I do not!" Bobby protested. "Tell me."
"Y' tell me what y' been seein' firs'."
"Logan and Scott are more tense around one another. They're snapping at people. It's like there's something between them that needs to be resolved. Jean and Storm have been in a daze for most of the day. And the professor has been staring out of windows with this wistful little smile. He seems so sad. Rogue's acting normally for the most part, except she hasn't knocked you around in about a week. And Betsy and Warren have been in their bedroom more than anywhere else for the past few days. dammit! Tell me!"
"Why y' be dinkin' dat Gambit know anyt'ing?"
"Remy. You know everything that happens in this house. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the telepath and not the professor."
"Don' need t' be a telepath. Every one talk t' Remy."
"Tell me."
"Close de door." Bobby did. The Cajun shut the window and curled up under a couple of quilts to get warm again. "Remy be getting Scotty, Logan and Jeannie toget'er." Bobby's jaw dropped. He felt the blush rush to his cheeks. Then he saw the pictures in his head.
"Oh, shit. I'll be... weatherproofing the mansion for the storm," he gulped. He iced over and sped to the outdoors. He hoped the cold would actually keep his erection hidden. He didn't hear Remy laughing behind him.
*****
"Gambit," Bishop stated. "What is wrong?"
"Not'ing, pup. I jus' want t' talk t' y'." Remy was outside. That was strange enough to make Bishop wary. He was bundled up under his trenchcoat and there was a quilt hanging over the handlebars of his motorcycle. It was red.
"About what?"
"What y' be doin' wit' Stormy."
"Gambit? Storm and I have no..."
"Remy be dinkin' dat someone 'ave a crush on 'is Stormy," he grinned. Bishop was not comforted. He might not know Gambit, but he knew the Witness. A grin like that could only mean trouble. He was being manipulated. He knew it, but he couldn't stop it from happening.
"I do not have a crush on Storm."
"Y' are int'rested dough."
"Yes," Bishop admitted. He knew that he couldn't lie to the man. That would just make him more relentless. He wondered what he was being maneuvered towards.
"Dat be good. I don' wan' anyone t' be 'urtin' m' Stormy. Y' unnerstand?" Bishop could smell wine.
"Are you drunk, Gambit?"
"Non. De wine jus' keep Remy warm. So, when y' gonna tell 'er?"
"Tell her what?"
"Dat y' in'erested in 'er?"
"I'm not..."
"Liar. Remy, he know dat Bishop like Stormy. He jus' want t' help. He dink dat Bish be wantin' t' tell Storm, but he don' know how. It be easier if Stormy make de first move, non?"
"LeBeau, do not speak of this to Ororo." There it was, the smirk of death. Bishop knew he'd misstepped. He was screwed. Or maybe, just maybe it was Storm that was screwed. Remy felt the shift in the big man's feelings and amped it up.
"Den y' be tellin' Stormy den."
"Fine. I will speak with her," Bishop lied.
"She be a good woman f' y', Bishop," Remy said. "Y' take good care o' her, pup." The thief wagged his finger at him.
*****
Ororo Monroe felt the sinking fear that she was being hunted. She felt eyes on her. When she looked around, there was no one there. Eventually, she realized she was being tracked from a room over. There were two people in the house that would do that. One of them was Wolverine. The other was her brother. Knowing that she was in no danger, she turned to confront the man.
Remy was waiting for her. He had a calculating little grin on her face. Uh-oh, she was in for punishment. She knew better than to interfere in a con and that is just what she had done. Now, she was going to pay for it. "Hello, brother."
"Stormy," he greeted. He cocked his head to the side and studied her. "When y' gon' t' start datin', 'tite?" That startled her.
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"De Goddess, she like fertility, non? She believe dat de man and de woman or de woman and de woman or de man and de man, dey need to connect. Dat dey need to love an' be loved. Oui? So, when is Remy's Stromy gonna connect?"
"Gambit!"
"Non, dis be serious. Y' need t' have someone in y' life. Gambit, he see two possibilities."
"Really?" she asked archly.
"Oui. Professor X or Bishop." Her mouth dropped open.
"I do not believe..."
"Bish, he t'ink dat Stormy ne'er love 'im, so he won' try. He promise t' tell y', but Gambit know he be lyin'. He attracted t' y', but he wan' t' do 'is duty. He get so caught up in de duty dat he forget dat he be human. He forget dat he need t' be loved. He dink he don' have de right t' be cherished. He t'ink dat Stormy be too good f' 'im. But Gambit, he know better. He know his Stormy need someone t' love 'er. She need someone dat understand dat dere be dings dat need t' be done. Dat sometimes de duty come bef' de love, but, padnat, dere's not'ing in duty dat mean y' can be lovin' someone." Storm drew closer. She knew she was going to manipulated. She could feel the stirrings of the charm pulling on her. She settled down on a chair. Remy leaned closer and whispered low, like a conspirator.
"Jus' dink o' all de power in 'im. Bishop, he take all de energy dat y' t'row at 'im and it don' hurt him. He love it. It be in his power t' take all y' give him. Y' can get angry an' no' hurt him. He be happy for de few stolen moments y' can give 'im. He wan' somet'ing so bad, but he don' understand what it be. Oh, chere, can' y' see de pain in him. He so all alone here. Dis is no' his world. He be back on de streets even dough he livin' in a mansion. Y' and I know what it like t' be on de streets like dat. He survivin' here, chere. He not livin'.
"Y' can make 'im live again. Teach 'im t' love. Like y' taught me. Bring 'im in, Stormy. Y' love him. I know dat. Y' don' dink o' him as y' brother, but as a man. Dat be what he need. He don' need any more comrades. Comrades die in battle. If he lose y', den it hurt, but it be better den never knowin'." His voice had dropped and was sending shivers up and down her spine. She could understand. She could feel the cold loneliness of the street in her bones. She knew the weariness of always being in control, in doing her duty. She knew that Remy was magnifying those emotions, forcing them up to the surface. She also knew that he was right, there might not be love there, but there was affection. She could help Bishop feel like there was something to live for again. She'd teach herself that again as well.
"Remy," she started. He touched a finger to her lips.
"An' in don' f'get dat dere's more den emotions left dere. Don' be so afraid o' de physical dat y' deny y'self. I see y' doin' it. Y' be more dan willin' t' save his soul, but y' cut y'self off. Remy know dat y' need de physical too. Dere's no one here dat's gonna be mad at y' for findin' comfort in dat." Storm felt a strange vertigo and her desire bubbled up along with the affection. "He be strength f' y' if y' let him." She felt herself nodding.
"I know," she whispered back. "I will speak with him." She wasn't lying. Remy nodded and collected his quilt and went to look for Jean.
*****
Jean was in the kitchen making dinner. Sweat had dampened and glued a tendril of hair to her temple. She smiled at Remy. "Sorry about your sheets, but it's your own damned fault."
"Dat's okay, Jeannie." Gambit smiled at her. "Whatcha makin'?"
"Dinner. Now, set the table and leave me alone."
"Y' be dinkin' o' de boys den?" he asked, smirking.
"Out of the kitchen." Laughing, Gambit found Logan and Scott heading for the kitchen as he left it.
"Be careful, mon amis," he warned. The tension between them, hit him like a physical wave and he wavered in the doorway. Scott caught his arm, concerned. "Remy be fine, Fearless," he said, absently patting the hand. His eyes were glazed. Contact made it nearly impossible to shield against emotions. Clothing didn't stop his powers in the least. Not like Rogue. No, that was a bad train of thought to be getting into. Ice, snow, Bobby, nope, that didn't help either. Wolverine's claws.... Rogue watching him and Logan from the Control Room. Logan was grinning at him. He knew. The younger man glared at him, but it wasn't effective. Not with his eyes glowing with pleasure rather than anger.
"Whatcha been up t' with, Jeannie?" Logan asked, popping his claws out.
"She be makin' dinner. She not wan' t' talk at de moment." Gambit stumbled. Damn it, a second hand caught his other arm, this one had pretty shiny blades on it. He giggled, they were sparkly. Merde! Jean heard the thought clearly and nearly dropped the saucepan. Gambit's shields were loosening. A wave of pure animal lust caught her unaware. It bore the familiar signature of Logan. She blushed. A second, more tender wave of aching need, that was Scott followed it. She set the pan down carefully and went to the door. She was shocked to find Remy giggling between Scott and Logan.
"I didn't know he was drunk when I sent him to set the table," Jean stated, fighting down her arousal.
"Go back ta yer cookin', Jeannie, we'll get him up to bed." Remy shook his head.
"Non. Non. Non. Dat not fair! Y' always making Remy miss de good stuff!" The arousal was hard to deny and Jean escaped back to the kitchen. She paused and leaned against the door-frame, trying to catch her breath. She heard the men moving away from the kitchen and went back to finishing dinner.
Scott and Logan walked the still muttering and protesting Cajun back to his room. Scott thought he was going to grind his teeth into dust to keep from leaping on Logan then and there. Logan seemed to be fine. Scott hated that self-control. Remy was like a little kid. He seemed to have no bones. Rogue stopped them blocking the way, hands on her hips.
"What exactly are ya doin' ta my man?" She demanded.
"Puttin' him ta bed, Darlin'. He's drunk."
"Gambit no be drunk!" Rogue looked closely at him and started to laugh.
"No, he's charmed."
"What?" Scott snapped.
"He's reacting to something he can sense. It's good whatever it is. Watch this." She placed her hand on his cheek and he turned into the touch. He looked up at her with a goofy grin that Scott recognized from his own face when he looked at Jean. The urge to jump Logan lessened in intensity. He let go of Gambit's arm and Logan followed suit. The temperature in the room dropped to its usual electric charge. Rogue's expression was pure bliss. They hadn't moved. "Oh, God, I wanna kiss ya, Honey," she stated. Gambit blinked and searched his pockets for something. He withdrew a silk handkerchief. "Good enough." The kiss seemed to wake the Cajun up. The other two left them in the hallway.
*****
"Ye never did tell me yer fantasy, Boy," Logan growled.
"Oh, Christ. I can barely walk right now, are you trying to kill me?"
"Ye're the one that wanted ta wait." Scott buried his face in his hands. They were camped out in the Den playing pool. The television reception was out because of the blizzard. Luckily, Scott and Jean had moved back into the mansion as soon as the reports came out and Storm informed them that she refused to mess with the weather patterns until strictly necessary. They were alone in the room, except for a passed out drunk Remy. Everyone else had drifted off to find other things to do. The women were plotting something. Bishop was haunting the halls. Bobby was with Hank in the lab. And Warren was probably in the library.
Scott set up his next shot as he gathered his wits. "It's fall. We're in the forest. A live action Danger Room session, almost. The two of us. No one else is on the grounds. They're all cooped up in the house because there's a bite in the air. You're the only one I can coax outside. You're stalking me. I know that you'll find me. You probably already know right where I am. I like that. It's nice to know that someone will always be able to find me.
"The leaves are crunchy on the ground, so I'm up in the tree branches. You can't really tell the difference between the leaves I'm making fall and the ones the wind is knocking down. I make a mistake and fall. You're right there to catch me. You lay me down instead of setting me on my feet like you usually do. You start checking me over to make sure I'm not hurt. Your hands are heavy and warm. I can feel them through my sweater. Then, you run your hands under my sweater and pull my shirt out of my jeans. Before I can ask you what you're doing, you kiss me. I can taste the forest in you.
"I reach up to touch you, but you press my hands down to the leaves I'm laying on. I let you explore me. Your hands touch everywhere. I want to touch you, but you growl when I move my hands from where you've put them. You kiss me again. You nip right behind my ear and I can't help but moan. I'm trembling from not moving by then. I want to pull you to me, but I resist. Somehow, I can't remember when, you've removed my sweater and shirt. You trace along my ribs with your claws. It's not enough to cut, but the metal is warm instead of cold and that shocks me. You follow that path with your mouth and I moan. You feel so hot and the air is so cold against the wetness you leave behind you.
"You pull my jeans down and caress me more gently than I'm expecting. You cut off my underwear and I know this is going to be more than I was expecting at first. You're stripping down. Your hair feels so soft when I'm finally allowed to move, to touch you. I want to map you with my fingers. I can feel your muscles corded along your sides. I want to feel your heat. You bite my shoulder and whisper for me to be patient. I feel your fingers, thick and warm, urging my thighs apart and pressing into me. I spread my knees to give you access. I'm so hot for you, I don't know where we are anymore and I don't care. You press in, but won't let me scream. You swallow my screams with your kiss. You feel so big in me, I feel like I'm splitting in two, but it doesn't matter because it feels so damned good to have you there. I run my fingers up your arms as you hold yourself up, to keep from crushing me.
"You pump in and out and my world narrows to that sensation occasionally broken by the feel of your tongue keeping me silent. I want to cry out for you to move faster and harder, but you won't even let me breath on my own. It's shattering when you finally come and I feel you pulsing in me. When you let me breath, I can't speak. We lay there for a long time before moving again." Scott swallowed the rest of his beer greedily and finally noticed Logan studying him as if he was the next meal. Scott flushed and Logan brushed his fingers against the younger man's lips.
"Jeannie waits any longer and I'm gonna take ye on this pool table until ye're beggin' me fer mercy." The comment went straight to Scott's groin. He leaned against the table heavily. His jeans, the old ones, with the tear at the knee, hugged his ass like a second skin and Logan growled. "Better cover yerself up, 'r I won't be responsible for the consequences." Scott licked his lips.
"Get the Cajun up. Now. I want a status report," Scott snapped. Logan grinned as Scott flipped into Fearless Leader mode. Logan shook Remy. The Cajun came up swinging. He had no clue where he was or who was touching him. He snarled and prepared to fight for his life. He could sense two horny males in the room and no one else. That was usually a bad sign. A card was already in his hand as he focused on his strategic target, the back up. He knew these men, his mind screamed at him, just as restraining hands caught his wrists in a vise-like grip. He blinked blearily into Logan's growling visage.
"Log'n?" he murmured. His brain figured out why the man was so angry. "I won' 'urt 'im. Honest." He dropped the card and held his fingers out placatingly. He reached out and soothed the worry he found in the man in front of him. He absorbed the worry and replaced it with calmness. It was the oldest trick he knew, but Logan released his arms. He rubbed at his wrists and looked up at Scott. The leader of the X-men did not look happy. He looked as snarlly as Logan. Gambit gulped. He didn't know what had happened, but these two obviously thought it was his fault. "Sorry, mes amis? Did Gambit miss somet'ing?"
*****
Jean was staring at Storm with undisguised shock. "Ororo!" she exclaimed.
"Oh come on, Sugah, ya and Betsy are the only ones who are definitely getting some. Ya've got ta tell us."
"No, no way!"
"Come on, if I had to spill my guts to the thief, you have to open up to us."
"There is nothing going on between me and Logan. And Scott is not screwing Logan behind my back. That is something I know for a fact!" Jean protested.
*****
The professor was startled when a very scared and still drunk Cajun thief dove over his desk and hid under it. "Don' tell dem, I'm here, d'accord, Wheels?"
//Fine.// The professor soothed. //What happened?//
//Jeannie's harder t' crack den I t'ought. I'm gonna have to work harder on 'er and de boys are getting restless. //
Scott and Logan skidded to a stop in front of the professor's door. Scott couldn't believe that the man had taken refuge there of all places. Scott punched the paneling. Logan growled. "Brat. We'll catch him later. Beer?"
"Oh, yeah. And then a little creative stalking. The girls are having a session in Storm's loft. I want to know what they're saying." Logan grinned.
//You can come out now, Remy,// the professor stated.
//Don' know 'bout dat. It be nice an' warm under here. Maybe Remy show de professeur how nice an' hot it be?//
//Remy, please remove your hand from... Sweet Jesu!//
//Y' like dat, non? Did Erik do dis f' y'? Show Remy what he like.// A pastiche of images followed the demand. The professor's brain was off-line except for the occasional stray thought.
//Need to lock you in the house more often.//
//Non, dis be Remy in de holiday spirit. Tell me what Mags likes.// More images and sensations. Remy trembled.
//I...//
Remy licked his lips. //Professeur?//
//- - - -//
Remy steered the professor's chair to his bedroom and settled him into bed. He went searching for Rogue. He found Scott and Logan listening at Storm's door. He cocked his head to the side and Scott patted the floor. He listened to the women's discussion. He flushed as Rogue started sharing her favorite story.
*****
Logan was tenser than he could remember being in years. He couldn't find any place in the mansion that wasn't swamped with pheromones and he couldn't go outside. He haunted the halls. Bishop and he unconsciously coordinated so that they were patrolling different areas at different times.
Jean's pheromones were like moving through mud. He stopped at the door of the den. She was playing pool with Remy. He was talking her through a scene. Logan's ears picked up his low whisper where no one else could have heard him. Logan settled down to listen. "An' den what would y' do, Jeannie? When y' can hear dem kissin' o'er y'. Y' can feel de heat o' deir bodies, but y' can' see dem, y' can' touch them? Y' call out wit' y' head, but dey don' care. Scott's not listenin' to y', but y' can feel what he feels. Y' know he can' listen. Logan's hands are runnin' o'er his throat. Y' can taste Logan on his lips. Y' warm up dere. So tired, y' can' e'en sit up. Y' wan' t' see t'rough Scott's eyes, but he can' see right now. Y' de one who did dat. Y' de one dat convince him t' take off de visor. Y' wanted Logan t' be able t' see him de way y' have.
"Y' can feel de fingers runnin' up Scott's back, y're back. Dey bot' de same now. Y' in his head." Jean's shot went wild. Logan heard her breathing hitch. "Logan's touch be so soft, so gentle, like he touchin' a kitten. He don' wan' t' hurt 'im. Y' wan' t' scream wit' Scott's voice. Y' know he wan' more. Y' make de leap t' Logan. Y' can taste Scott now. Y' know dat dere's no way y' gonna let dese two escape y'. But dat's not y' dought. Dat's Logan. It be so hard t' tell. Y' wan' dem in y' de way y' get into dem. Y' bitin' Scotty's neck now, jus' behind de ear. Y' know dat drives him mad. He come alive in y' arms. But y' so much stronger. How do it feel t' be Logan right den? To know dat y'r prey can' get away. Y' burn wit' de knowledge o' bot' o' dem. Y' like dat? How y' feel den?" Remy cooed, gently brushing his fingers over her fingers to remove the cue from her hand before it falls to the ground.
"I'm flying. I'm the Phoenix. I'm born back into that fire. Oh, God, it's so damned hot!" Jean gasped.
"Dey wan' y', Jeannie. Y' jus' got t' tell dem," the whiskey-whisper assured her.
"I can't. I can't! What are they going to think of me?" She sobbed.
"What do y' need, Jeannie? Tell me."
"I need. I need them to ask me. I need them to be together before. I can't be the one to do this. It'll destroy Scott to think I want Logan."
"I dink y' wrong, Jeannie," Remy soothed. The red-head was sobbing in his arms and he rocked her. "D' y' wan' me t' get dem toget'er f' y', Jeannie?"
"Yes." He let her cry, satisfied. He laid her down on the couch and covered her with the quilt he'd left there. He stepped out the door.
"Y' heard her," he purred. "Go stalk y'self a Scott." Logan grinned.
"Ye're gonna tell him first." Remy bowed. He winked. He knew the old man just wasn't up to walking yet.
*****
Scott glared at the Thief. "Did you want something, Gambit?"
"I wan' t' warn y' dat Logan's huntin' Cykes. Dey be in season. Wit' de permission o' de wife even."
Scott blinked at him. He felt a smile creep across his face. "Finally. Good work." He went back to his book. Remy leaned across the desk. He put his hand on the book and pushed it down.
"Make de man work for it and he deliver de goods. Trust Gambit on dis one. He wan' a li'l sport." Scott nodded slowly. The crimson eyes were burning. "I keep Jeannie occupied f' y'. Get movin' he on de way."
*****
Logan followed the scent trail all over the house. He finally cornered his prey in the attic. Scott was sorting through a box of old costumes. Logan shut the door of the attic and moved silently forward. Scott looked over his shoulder with a faint frown on his face. He'd heard the door, but there was no one in the room. Logan had kept to the shadows and was moving around the periphery of the room. Suddenly, he pounced, clapping one thick fingered hand over Scott's mouth.
"What did I tell ya 'bout those jeans?" he growled in the brunet's ear. "Close yer eyes, Kid," he said sliding the other hand up and removing the sunglasses. He set them aside. "Think ya can keep 'em shut?" Scott shrugged. Den, Logan's fingers traced up under his shirt and he shook his head, half hoping the hand would shift off his mouth when he did.
A soft strip of material from what had once been Jean's uniform covered his eyes, holding them shut. "Logan," he started. A finger pressed against his lips.
"Quiet. 'Ro's on the other side of that wall," Logan hissed. Scott swallowed hard. He traced his fingers over the hand that had wrapped over his throat. The pressure was gentle, but insistent. It pushed him to the floor amidst the old cotton and leather. The dust and leather filled his senses. "Yer all mine now." Scott felt his heart speed up.
"Wha..."
"Shut up," Logan snarled. His voice softened for an instant. "Don' worry. Kid's standing guard. Jus' you and me here." A tongue swept along Scott's collar bone and up to his ear. A sharp bite made him arch and the mouth moved down biting and tasting all along the way. Sharp points of pressure, danger as the claws ran over his chest, shredding his shirt, but only brushing his skin. He reached to touch the hands he knew were connected to the blade. "Keep 'em down or I'm gonna stop." Scott swallowed. Warm rough fingertips danced flame across his body. He squirmed feeling the warmth and hardness of Logan's crotch brushing his own. He moved to get his feet under him, to get some control. He felt as if he were falling. There was so much sensation. Scent, taste, hearing, denied touch. He could feel Logan's heat so close to his skin, but not touching. He whimpered, but bit his lip to keep quiet.
A too brief pressure caressed his cock and he arched into it. "Ye're never gonna wear these jeans fer anyone else. Not even Jeannie. Ya ever put 'em on again, yer gonna think o' me," Logan growled. Scott shivered. Logan inhaled deeply. He could smell arousal, love, fear, and the underlying crisp musk that was Scott through and through. That scent was cherished and kept close to his heart. His family lived there. All of them scented. Nothing would ever keep him from his family. He smelled need. The warm squirming body under his was trying so hard to be good for him, time for a reward. He licked Scott's lips apart, tasting the blood he'd drawn trying to keep quiet.
Scott's head dipped back to allow greater access to his mouth. Logan stroked the sweaty brow tenderly. He striped himself down, leaving Scott gasping from the sudden removal of his heat. He was back forever, an instant, later. Scott's hands fisted in the material he was lying on. He could smell Jean in the fabric. He could smell Hank and Bobby. Those scents were overpowered by the return of Logan. There was the forest. There was wild passion in that smell. Sweat and strength. Scott felt fingers tracing over his arms. They were followed by a tongue and occasionally the prick of teeth. He moaned. The heat came back to his mouth. He felt his breath removed and replaced by Logan's lungs. He sobbed as the feeling went straight to his cock. He raised his hips. The jeans were too tight. He wanted them off. He wanted anything. He wanted more.
Logan moved down the more slender chest. The fine hairs captured the crisp scent he knew so well. He lapped at one nipple. Scott gasped. His hands twisted convulsively. "Doin' good," Logan growled. Scott was beyond understanding the words.
"More," he whispered. Logan's hands stroked down his legs. He could feel warmth through the thick material. I don't know how Rogue stands this, he thought. Then, his feet were bare and rough-gentle fingers were exploring his feet. He sobbed and twisted. The hands stroked up the inside of his legs. Then, the jeans were open and off. He could feel Logan's skin against his. He raised a hand to touch and it was gently, but firmly pushed back down.
"Ya don't want me ta stop do ya?" Scott shook his head in wild denial. He spread willingly to the questing touch. He was surprised when he felt the coldness of the gel combined with the warmth of the thick fingers seeking entrance. He thrust down on the fingers. He didn't care about safety and he hated Logan for his control. Damned him in his mind, but remained silent and still as a hand fanned out on his stomach. Then, the first wide, hardness was in him and he went wild. It was more than he'd expected. He shuddered and urged for more. It was slow and steady and he felt as if he'd be torn apart. He didn't care. He wanted more.
Logan gloried in the little whimpers of need. He was holding on to his control by the fingernails, but he didn't want to really hurt the man below him. He was finally, agonizingly seated in tight, hot warmth. The muscles contracted, milking him and he grunted. He drove his claws into the floorboards, pinning Scott's arms at his sides. Scott felt the knick on his arm and stilled as much as possible as every nerve in his body tingled. The harsh thrusts filled and emptied him. His cock ached and he wanted to touch himself. He wanted to touch Logan. He wanted to be free to drive down on the cock that drove into him. Logan's kiss is all that kept him quiet when he came feeling the pulsing of Logan's semen in him. Now, he was allowed to touch, the claws retracting. He stroked. He petted. He snuggled closer as Logan's weight pinned him down. He slept.
*****
Remy was concentrating on keeping people out of the attic hallway. Storm had even fallen prey to it, wandering back downstairs without remembering why she was going to her room. The professor was the only one who didn't. He stared down at the glowing ember eyes. He augmented the shield the boy had erected.
"Finally," he stated. "This was the last requirement for Jean, correct."
"Oui. She dink she bein' unfait'ful if dey don' ask 'er." Xavier nodded.
"She's asleep."
"I know."
"I could influence her dreams." Remy brightened.
"Dat be good." He was sitting on the floor, chin resting on his knees. The professor reached out to tweak Jean's dreams and gasped.
"She doesn't need any help," he informed the young man. "You are quite dangerous when you start matchmaking. You need a hobby."
"Gambit have a hobby. Dis be Gambit's hobby. He make people happy toget'er."
"At what cost to yourself," Xavier asked gently. They young man's eyes widened.
"No cost. Gambit feel better when de people 'round him be happy."
//And is that how you got involved with Sinister?// Gambit's mouth dropped. He momentarily lost control of the shield, then it was back up. He shrugged and played with the fraying seam of his jeans.
//M. Essex help Remy when he be in trouble.//
//Tell me more.//
//It be somet'ing like dis actually. But it not work out right. Dey focus on Gambit 'stead o' each ot'er. Dey supposed to be after each ot'er, but dey come f' Remy instead. Remy los' control an' it catch up wit' him. Had t' fight his way out. M. Essex fin' him after dat. He be battered somet'in' awful and Sinister patch him up and give him a safe place again. Y' don' know how sad Essex be. Remy wan' t' make 'im happy again. He be happy when Gambit get 'im de information 'e wan'. When he bring toget'er de team and train dem t' work toget'er, Essex be happy. Den, dere was somet'ing wrong when he send Gambit t' remove de security fr' de Morlocks. Dat didn' sound right. Remy follow de ot'ers down int' de tunnels an' see what dey doin'. Remy feel de pain. He save a little girl, but dat not good 'nough. M. 'Tooth gut him and take 'im back t' Essex. Essex so disappointed. I couldn' stay no more. Started runnin'. Playin' Robin Hood. Gambit, he shut down completely. Den he meet his Stormy and he remember how t' feel good again.//
//It's okay Remy. I give second chances. Have you told Rogue?//
//Non!//
//Remy, do you think Mystique's daughter has any reason to judge you?//
//Non,// Remy admitted. //Fine. Remy talk t' 'er 'bout it. Remy make y' happy t'. //
//Don't make promises to me. You and I both know it's impossible.//
//Not'ing impossible. Y' have t' believe dough. Can' do not'ing if y' don' believe it possible. Y' not be givin' Remy a chance.//
//All right. It is possible, but not probable. Don't push yourself. You were in trouble yesterday. You were frightened enough to seek me out in my office.//
//I won' push it. Promise.//
//Very well. I believe they're ready to come out now.// The professor smiled.
//I want a full accounting.//
//Oui, Professeur. You and de rest o' de house.// The professor left the hallway. The tension between Scott and Logan had been relieved. Remy's eyes shined. They looked sated. "Jeannie be sleepin' in de den," Remy informed them.
"Good a place as any, Slim." Scott shrugged. He wiped at the trickle of blood on his lip. Remy raised a brow. "G'night, Kid." Logan patted Remy on the head, ignoring the outraged protest.
"Y' not gonna just go t' bed an' not tell..."
"Good night, Gambit," Scott said more firmly. Remy gaped at them as they left.
"Rogue's gonna kill me."
*****
Betsy woke gasping. Visions of Scott, Logan and Jean danced in her head. She dressed carefully to avoid waking Warren. She wasn't surprised to find Remy sitting in the hallway outside Rogue's door. There was a heat vent there. He seemed to be on a quest for warmth. Her brush past his shield made them snap at her and she stepped back in shock. He was frowning. "Want to get a midnight snack with me?" she offered. He nodded. Betsy tamped down a squeal of delight. Gossip time, she thought.
They settled at the kitchen table. "Now, why were you sitting in front of Rogue's room instead of sleeping in it?"
"She be asleep when Remy go t' bed an' he didn' wan' t' wake 'er."
"And what exactly does Remy know about a certain trio of people called Scott, Logan and Jean." The sly smile that Gambit gave her made her thoughts stumble and rewind.
"Dat depends on what y' wan' t' know, chere. An' what y' have in exchange f' it."
"You tell me what they're doing and I tell you some rather interesting tales from before I met Warren. From when I was still modeling." Remy nodded.
"Scott an' Logan dey consummate deir relationship t'night. Jeannie she wan' dem bot', but only if dey wan' each ot'er."
"I met Camille in Paris and we had a three month relationship."
"And?"
"You give me details, I give you details."
"Deal."
*****
Jean woke bleary eyed. She was warm and secure, tucked into Scott's arms. He smelled of sweat and she assumed he'd been working out before coming to bed. She didn't really remember falling asleep on the couch in the den with Scott, but she was willing to deal with it. She felt very cozy. She blinked at the bright red and gold that was near her face and discovered it to be a quilt. That was very odd. She and Scott didn't own a quilt. She dragged her brain through the happenings of the night before. She remembered Remy, a bottle of wine and a pool game. There'd been a discussion too. She couldn't quite remember what she'd said, but she remembered crying at the end of it and being soothed. She connected the logic chain and decided that Remy had put her on the couch to sleep it off. Mystery solved, she snuggled up to Scott's bare chest.
Bare chest? Her mind responded sluggishly. Scott did not go bare chested in the house. Not even in the summer. Even though there was a blizzard out, she didn't think he'd break that rule. Though that was a shame. He wasn't exactly the string bean nicknamed "slim" any more. Maybe this was an early Christmas present. That was a good enough explanation. Scott stroked her hair and pulled her closer. She felt something hot and hard along her thigh and grinned. She wriggled a little and his hand spasmed. He came awake and pulled her up for a kiss.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself." He twisted so she was above him. She wriggled out of her underwear and let her skirt bunch up around her waist as she prepared to take advantage of this new positioning. Scott's hands slid up her legs and supported her as she opened his jeans. Bobby wandered towards the den and stopped dead at what he could see through the kitchen door. He ran so quickly that he spun Bishop around as he passed him. He skidded to a stop in the safety of Hank's lab. His face was bright red.
Hank McCoy looked up from his microscope. He gaped at his friend. "What's wrong, Bobby?"
"Scott... Jean... the den..."
"Sit down. Calm down and tell me what's wrong? Are they okay?" Bobby nodded.
"She was, and he, they." Bobby looked dazed. Hank ran through all the texts he'd read and all the training he'd received as a medical doctor and decided that there was only one treatment. He slapped the man lightly across the cheek. Bobby gaped at him and then shook awake.
"Scott and Jean were doing it again! In a public place! I can't deal with this any more, Hank! I mean, I know they're getting some, but they don't have to rub it in my face! And if Remy's telling the truth then it's not going to be just the two of them for long," Bobby babbled. Hank frowned.
"Bobby, am I correct in hearing that Scott and Jean have been indulging in exhibitionistic behaviors?"
"Yes!"
"Now, what did the Cajun boy wonder say to you?"
"That Scott and Logan and Jean are going to. Oh, Christ. He's working on getting them together. All three of them!"
"Bobby. This is Gambit we are discussing. He is more than willing to say whatever he needs to in order to raise the emotional turmoil of the people around him." Bobby shook his head violently.
"Nope. This isn't him out to get my goat. I caught him in a post-Rogue moment." Hank conceded the point.
"Scott and Logan are intensely loyal to one another, however, I don't believe that they have ever been interested in each other sexually. I still believe this is an elaborate hoax. Perhaps Gambit and Rogue are conspiring to pay you back for a mis-timed prank." Bobby scowled.
"Hank, when was the last time you were out of this lab? The tension's so high up there that you can cut it with a knife. Even the professor's being affected!" Hank rubbed his neck, tiredly.
"Fine. I will prove to you that you are merely feeling the effects of being housebound due to the blizzard."
"Hank," Bobby pointed out reasonably, "Storm and I are the only two who aren't housebound."
McCoy decided that it was one of Bobby's attempts to distract him for a few minutes of down time and furthermore decided to play along with it. He knew it would at least be amusing to see Bobby talk his way out of it. He stepped into the kitchen and was hit by the strongest surge of pheromones that he'd ever smelled. He staggered under the onslaught. He knew exactly why Bobby had been imagining things. The house was sealed up and the pheromones hadn't had a chance to dissipate as they usually did. That was perfectly understandable.
Then, he glanced into the den and saw Scott's shirtless torso and Jean's tousled red hair lounging on the couch and smiled. "See Bobby, nothing untoward. They're just sharing body heat."
Bobby snorted. "Bullshit." Hank gaped. Bobby didn't usually resort to foul language. Logan wandered down. He patted Jean and Scott affectionately on their heads before coming into the kitchen.
"Outta the way," he demanded gruffly. Hank blinked. That wasn't the Wolverine he knew.
Just then Storm and Bishop walked by arm in arm talking in low voices. "Way t' go, 'Ro," Logan said softly. He was smiling. Betsy slipped in and out of the kitchen, wrapped loosely in a kimono and reeking of sex, her hair still damp with sweat. Hank was gaping.
Hank decided an investigation was in order. Remy and Rogue were sitting on the stairs. She was whispering something into his ear. Remy grinned at the two men. "Y' right, chere. I dink I need t' do somet'ing 'bout dat. Y' send dat message f' Gambit?"
"Of course, sugah." She stood and sauntered up the stairs. They seemed normal. The professor was the only one left to check on, since it was obvious who was with Betsy. The professor was staring morosely out the window. A half-finished chess game was set out on his desk.
//Yes, Hank? Bobby?// Xavier asked.
"What's wrong, Professor?" Bobby asked.
"I am merely attempting to figure out how I got checkmated within five minutes of starting the game. Usually, it takes at least an hour." Hank blinked.
"Who are you playing against?" he asked.
"Oh, Gambit indulges me usually." That did it. It had to be either a drug or an infection. The only thing to do was to find Remy and test him. He and Rogue seemed to be the only ones unaffected by the infection. Xavier watched him leave with a smile. This was an amusing turn of events. He toyed with the idea of informing Remy and then discarded it. Bobby followed Hank shaking his head. He knew he wasn't imagining things.
*****
Remy settled down on the lab table without a fight. That disconcerted the doctor more than anything else. "What be de matter, M. Bete?" Remy asked. Bobby smirked at him from the doorway. With that little bit of information, Remy knew exactly what was wrong. Rogue'd be pleased.
"There is something very wrong happening upstairs. You and Rogue are the only two unaffected and I want to discover the cause." Remy snickered.
"Oh, Bete. Dere's not'ing wrong. In fact, dat's why y' be dinkin' it be strange."
"Gambit, I fail to see the..."
"Dere's no one tryin' t' kill us. De mansion's intact. Dere's no riots in town. No one needs t' be patched up. No one's getting 'urt in de Danger Room. De professor's not called us t' de War Room in two weeks. Dat's why y' be worried, non?"
"No, I'm worried because Bobby has reported seeing Scott and Jean exhibiting unusual behaviors at least twice now. And when I went upstairs, I saw Bishop and Storm..."
"Y' got a problem wit' Stormy bein' happy?" Remy snapped. Hank recognized him in "protect Storm mode" and sighed.
"It is merely unusual. Besty's lack of... tact this morning was also startling. Then, there was the professor's behavior."
"He jus' distracted. He be dinkin' 'bout de past not de game. What be wrong, Henri?" Remy asked sympathetically. "Is it be de dat y' don' have anyone wit' y'?"
"I do not find myself yearning for companionship."
"Tell y'self dat often 'nough y' gonna believe it. Remy don' dink dat be true. Sit down, Henri." Bobby's jaw dropped as he watched the Cajun focus on his best friend. As he thought of Hank he felt his affection swell to the forefront and with it a hint of desire he hadn't recognized before.
Hank felt his sadness muted as he thought of his long time friend. The only one who ever came to just make him laugh. Maybe Remy was right. He was lonely. "You may be right. I don't leave the lab often. But let us be objective, Gambit. I'm not you. People do not swoon at the feet of a blueberry colored furball."
Gambit noted the use of "people." This was going to be easier than he'd thought. "Hank, dere's more t' love dan looks. One o' de best lovers I ever had was blind. He didn' care dat I be good lookin'. He like m' voice. But y' bein' blind t' Bete. Dere's no need t' look outside for a companion. De one y' wan' is already in y' heart. Y' jus' have t' reach out an' pull 'im in." Bobby moved closer and Gambit didn't have to look up to see the protectiveness in the young man's face. Beast looked startled at the thought of his heart having been stolen when he wasn't looking.
"Y' know dat love isn't de lightening flash o' lust. Y' know dat love o'ercome any obstacle. It overwhelm de fears. It reach through impossible barriers. It be de comforting embrace when de whole world comin' down 'round y' ears. Dat's what y' wan'. Y' wan' de one who see beyond de walls o' long words an' loneliness y' put up. Y' wan' de one dat don' care dat y' keep bad hours, but care' enough t' come fin' y'. Y' don' wan' de one dat make y' feel ugly. Y' don' wan' people to look at y' an' wonder what y' did t' blackmail dem int' it. Dey see de friendship 'tween y' an' dey won' care. Y' wan' someone t' rub y' shoulders when y' been hunched over the 'scopes f' too long." Hank nodded.
"Y' want de one dat heat y' up and make y' blush wit' compliments. He be dere, jus' admit dat y' love 'im. He do anyt'ing f' y'." Bobby nodded at the unspoken question when Remy glanced at him. "He be dere and he not be runnin' away. Y' don' scare 'im. He loves y'. He don't care about anythin' 'cept y' bein' Henri. Can y' feel 'im right now?" Hank nodded, not daring to look up at his long time friend.
"He need y' too. Y' don' dink he be stupid. Y' don' dink dat he immature. Y' understand him," Remy's voice softened and deepened. Hank felt his love overwhelm his intellect for a moment. "Don' dink, Bete."
Bobby's hand rested on Hank's shoulder. He was swept into a strong embrace. The familiar warm spice and musk of Hank's fur filled his nostrils. He squeezed for all he was worth and felt that returned to him. They were both swept away at that moment. "I love you," Bobby whispered.
"I know," Hank replied. Gambit spun out his shields and the men forgot he was in the room. He wished suddenly that the shields worked on Logan and Scott. He pulled his knees up and settled down to watch.
It was a slow exploration. Nothing fast and heavy. Hank slid his hands down over Bobby's back, feeling the cotton of his shirt, the denim of his jeans. They trailed back up to the silky hair. Bobby felt so fragile to Beast's grip. He knew from experience that he wasn't. That the man was as strong as any of the X-men, but he seemed so small. Bobby was stroking through the blue fur with single-minded intensity. He wanted to sort out the tangle hairs. He felt the tension leaving Beast's muscles.
Well, leaving most of his muscles.
The hot erection that pressed against Bobby's jean clad knee through Bermuda shorts was getting tenser by the minute. Still, getting the tangles out was important. He had to have something to grab hold of, he told himself. He stroked over Hank's shoulders and onto his chest. He was surprised when he encountered the nipples there. Even more surprised when Hank gasped.
Hank carefully pulled Bobby into a kiss. He laid siege to the well known mouth. He'd never known it so intimately before. He could taste sugar and coffee and something more basic, more true to Bobby. It melded with the sweet incense like musk that the young man exuded and became a wild aphrodisiac. Bobby melted against him.
Hank considered the logistics in his mind. He thought of consequences. Then, Bobby whimpered and it meant nothing. Bobby squirmed out of his tee shirt and jeans and Hank pulled off his shorts. The blond felt so hot that Hank forgot everything. He pulled the taught body towards him. One large hand wrapped around the not inconsiderable mass of Bobby's cock and stroked it gently and lovingly. Bobby's hips moved with his hand, seeking more contact. Bobby's fingers trailed over Hank's cock. It was only lightly covered with blue fur. It was silky and warm and solid and Bobby explored it gently with his fingertips.
The warm haven of Beast's hand left for a moment and Bobby surged closer to the furry body. "More, Hank, please?" he begged, hesitantly. Hank's hand rested on his nipples and played with them. Bobby arched. Then, Hank was over him, licking and biting at those same nipples. Bobby's fingers tightened on Hank's cock and the large man groaned.
"That feels exquisite." Bobby pulled lightly and Hank hissed. "More," he snarled. His own hand falling back to Bobby's erection. The stroked each other to completion, then laid there, dazed.
Gambit snuck out of the room and shut the door. He grinned. "My work here is done," he whispered to the air.
*****
"He'll meet yah Satahday at tha coffee shop. I hope yah know what yah doin', sugah."
"Non, Remy, he be improvising. But dey both so sad, dat I can' not try. Dat be de best f' Christmas f' de man dat can have anyt'ing money can buy, non?" Rogue smiled. She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his lips. He smiled and kissed her hand. They sat there for a long moment staring at each other in front of the glittering Christmas tree. It had been set up in the parlor so that it couldn't get knocked over by rough-housing. Everyone knew that to be caught even yelling in the parlor was a Danger Room offense, punishment to be meted out immediately. There had only been one instant when anyone had tried it. Bobby hadn't been able to sleep for a week due to the bruises. Jean looked in on them and smiled. It was a picture perfect moment. She lifted the camera to her eye and clicked the shutter. She stalked the halls looking for other unwary X-men. She wondered when she'd started picking up Logan's tendencies.
*****
Logan and Scott were discussing a rather pressing matter in the attic. Scott was searching for the presents he'd hidden up there. Logan was sitting on a steamer trunk watching him. "I warned ye 'bout them jeans, Slim."
"That's the point," Scott smirked. "If we don't get her soon, the sex is going to kill me."
"Havin' stamina problems?"
"No. But just about everything gets me in the mood now. I need to share the load."
"I hate ta say this but..."
"We could..." Scott started at the same time. Then, he grimaced. "I don't want that voyeuristic brat anymore involved in my love life than he is."
"But look at what it's gotten us so far?"
"A week worth of hard ons?"
"He's talked ta her at least three times. He knows what she's waitin' fer."
"Shit. God, why me?"
"Because God ain't all that kind." Scott laughed.
"Okay. It can't hurt my reputation any more than it already has. I'm feeling the need for a Danger Room session. What do you think?"
"I think so. An' I'll even be kind enough ta go collect yer sparring partner." The laugh that came from Scott's lips would have done Sinister proud.
*****
Remy was sitting in the parlor when Logan found him, reading Oliver Twist. Logan snorted and took the book out of his hand. "'ey! Dat's no' fair!" Remy snapped.
"Too bad, Kid. Cyke's orders. Yer goin' ta the Danger Room."
"Gambit ain't done not'in'!" Remy protested as Logan hauled him to his feet with a little more force than was necessary. The grip on his wrist was like iron. "Logan, let Remy go. Y' tell Scotty dat y' couldn' fin' him, oui?"
"Don't think so." Warren smirked as he watched Logan dragging the reluctant Cajun towards the Danger Room. He knew the look on Logan's face didn't bode well for his partner. Betsy watched with mild alarm. She wanted details, not a broken source of information! Obviously, Remy recognized the futility of trying to slow the Canadian down. His shoulders slumped and he followed along, wrist still held firmly. It tightened whenever he tried to shift out of it. He saw Rogue.
"Chere!" he called out. Her lips twisted into an interested smile.
"Logan, ya'll need someone ta spot?"
"No thanks, Darlin'. Move it, Gumbo. You've managed to miss three sessions in the past two weeks and Cyke's ready ta kill."
"What dis poor boy do t' deserve dis life?" he said, putting his free hand to his forehead. Rogue smiled and plotted how to get to the Control Room without anyone seeing her. If what Remy had said was true, there was no way Scott was going to be there, no matter what Logan was saying. There had been something in the way Remy hadn't been scheming to get away that made her very curious.
*****
Cyclops was in "civilian" clothes, except for his visor. Remy shifted nervously. He was glad it was winter. He didn't tend to wear shoes in the summer. At least not in the house. Logan activated a basic warehouse gym setting. Remy was only vaguely comforted by the presence of mats. Scott's grin was evil. Remy dropped his trench by the door. "Now why y' be wantin' t' take Remy t' de mats? Ain't Logan 'nough f' y'?" Scott didn't respond. He knew he was unsettling the younger man. He gestured to the center of the mat.
Remy ran through the past two weeks in his head. He couldn't figure out what he'd done to get under Scott's collar. He glanced at Logan. The feral smile didn't do anything to calm his nerves. They were both high-strung. He sent out an empathic probe and found frustration and anticipation. Okay, so he was dealing with a frustrated Scott. That wasn't all that unusual. What was unusual was that Scott normally just yelled at him. Remy forced down his worries. He had a fight to focus on.
"What de rules, Cyke?"
"No powers. No weapons." Remy sighed and tossed his bo staff onto his coat. He nodded curtly to Scott and they were off. Scott let loose with a punch that Remy dodged as he tried to figure out a strategy. Scott was getting as rough as Logan. Remy flipped out of the way of a rather nasty kick that didn't look like it was being pulled. It was against his principles to hurt his "Training Master." But there was more than one way to skin a cat. He struck at Scott's ribs and the older man twisted out of the way and landed the first blow to Remy's chest. That was all Remy'd been waiting for. He started to fight back.
Logan grinned. He liked to watch Scott working out. And if he was taking out his frustration on the person who'd caused the frustration all the better. He wanted to take the Cajun down a few pegs himself. The kid had been grinning a smug little grin at him for a week now. Logan's nose twitched. Scott was getting turned on. He'd never realized that was the scent he'd been trying to place for years now. Scott's jeans highlighted the muscles of his legs as he ducked and rolled out of the way of one of Remy's flying kicks. Oh, that was nice, Logan noted.
Remy opened up his senses. He knew where the blow would come an instant before it connected and knocked him back. He flipped to his feet. He felt Logan's desire growing and fixed the wild fighting grin onto his face. There was the opening he'd been waiting for. He intensified the feelings with part of his mind as the rest of him concentrated on not getting the shit beaten out of him by a frustrated leader. Scott was getting aroused now, reacting to the blue eyed gaze that seemed to see right through his jeans. That was good. Now, how to set of Logan's primal instincts.
Remy snagged Scott's flannel shirt as he passed and popped off a couple of buttons. Scott thought it was a misplaced punch and slammed into Remy's back, propelling him into a forward roll. Logan's interest surged and Remy knew he'd scored a direct hit. He went for Scott's shins and managed to make him fall forward onto one knee, highlighting his ass for Logan's appreciative gaze. Logan's mind was rather quickly going off-line. All he could think about was tackling the source of the pheromones he'd imprinted as mate. But his mate was hunting so it would have to wait.
Remy nearly growled. Restraint was not what he wanted from the short, compact Wolverine. He wanted the wolf. Time to get serious, it seemed. He landed a kick to Scott's chest, flipping as he did so, catching the shirt with his other foot to tear it open. Logan snarled. His mate's prey was fighting back. Remy got to his feet as quickly as Scott did and they circled. Scott stripped off the shirt, leaving him in tee shirt and jeans. The little buttons called to Remy, but Cyke had called "no powers." Then again, no, wait, he'd called "no weapons." The next flurry of exchanged blows were strong enough to bruise, but not to hurt. This was practice after all.
Remy reached for Logan's desire and wrenched it up as Scott managed to catch his arm in a twist. Instead of giving in, Remy moved with it. Sweat soaked the back of Scott's shirt and Logan wanted nothing more than to lick it off. The short hair at the back of Scott's head glistened with wetness. Remy butted Scott in the stomach with his head. He felt a surge of protectiveness from Logan and amped that up too. Damn it, why wouldn't the man take his lover!
Scott could feel Logan's eyes on him. He felt a surge of adrenaline as Remy grabbed at his tee-shirt. He couldn't figure out what the hell the thief was doing. First, his flannel, now his tee, he wouldn't have any clothes left after this. It was as bad as fighting Logan. Logan. That had to be it. Remy was testing Logan. Fine, Scott could play that game. He'd seen Rogue in the control room. Then, his brain focused on the fight. Remy'd just caught him a glancing blow across the chin.
The remnants of Scott's tee hit the mats and Logan now had a very good look at the muscles of his lover's back. The prey was still struggling. Scott tightened his arm around Remy's throat. The Cajun stilled. "Yield?"
"Yield." Scott released him and he slumped to the floor. Logan pounced and took Scott to the mats as Remy tried to catch his breath. His jaw dropped at Scott's jeans went flying and Logan's clothes followed shortly after. It was what he'd been trying for, but this was incredible.
Logan's mouth lapped up the sweat that had gathered under Scott's throat. Scott was saying something, but Logan was beyond listening.
Rogue made sure the doors were locked and the camera was on.
Thick fingers tangled into Scott's hair, pulling his mouth open for a kiss. Then, those fingers tore off his visor and the only reason his eyes were closed was the kiss. He tried to free himself from the grip, to ask what the hell was going on. The Brat was still in the room with them!
Logan bit the side of Scott's throat and the questions died. Scott moaned in appreciation. The bites and licks trailed down his torso. Then, there was hot and thick flesh filling his mouth. He licked it and sucked it as it leaked. Scott squirmed under his lover.
Logan's mind cataloged: mate's prey was still there, mate was aroused, mate was fighting. All good.
Scott felt little explosions behind his eyes as Logan drove into his ass without warning or preparation. He howled. Pain and ecstasy blended as Logan's cock blasted into his prostate. Logan was reveling in the little whimpers and moans that his lover emitted. He sniffed at his mate's neck and lapped at the tender part behind his ear. His mate's fingers brushed through his hair and over his body in random patterns of petting.
Scott was committing the feel of Logan to his memory. He felt the strong arms hold him down and he climaxed as he felt Logan hilt himself to the fullest within the tight confines of his body and spurted. Logan licked his mate's seed from his stomach as he disengaged himself. He tasted blood. Scott lay shivering on the mat and Logan laid with him, to keep him warm.
Rogue shuddered to climax. She hadn't seen Logan as being quite so enthusiastic with Scott in her mind's eye. Remy moved slightly and Rogue's mouth formed into a predatory smile, reminiscent of Logan's.
The prey was moving. It had only been stunned. Logan snarled and caught it with a flash of claws. Fear scent filled his nostrils, but no scent of blood. Remy was flat on his back, sweater and shirt pinned to the mat by sharp, foot long claws about half an inch from his throat. Remy realized his mistake. Logan wasn't thinking yet. He sent soothing, calming feelings toward the feral man. Scott's hand patted the mat for his visor.
"T'ree more inches t' de right," Remy offered in a soft whisper. Scott snagged the visor and put it on.
"Shit," he muttered. "Logan?" he asked. Wolverine's head came around slowly to regard him, thought beginning to show in his eyes. He smiled at his mate. Scott saw the claws had come rather too close to Gambit's throat. He frowned. Logan's smile widened and he gestured to the young man.
"He t'inks I'm y'r prey, I dink," Remy stated. "My fault f' movin' t' slow." Scott gathered his jeans. That little mystery resolved he held up the jeans, or rather what was left of them. He sighed. Maybe he could get Jean to sew up the seams. He really loved this particular pair.
Logan shook his head. "Oh, fuck," he snarled. He pulled in his claws. "Scott, are you okay?" he asked. Scott nodded.
"I'm fine." At Logan's look he added. "Honest. I want to sleep for a week, preferably curled up in your bed, but other than that, great." Remy's eyes widened.
"Good," Logan grunted. He looked for his clothes that were in better condition than Scott's. Remy watched them get dressed. "What the hell are ya lookin' at?"
"Jus' 'memberin' f' when Jeannie asks me."
"What are you talking about, Gambit?"
"Speakin' of Jeannie," Logan said. "How exactly are we supposed t' talk her inta this?"
Remy sighed. "Don' talk. Make sure she in de room, den do somet'ing like dat and ask her t' join. She'll get de idea. She a 'path."
"Fine. Dismissed."
"Y' sure, y' don' wan' t' use Remy's coat, Fearless?" Remy smirked. Scott sighed and gathered the scraps that used to be his clothes. He could still wear the shirt, he supposed, but Remy was right. He hated that.
"Yes, I want your coat. Now, be a good little scout and make sure no one's in the hall so I can get some clothes."
"I be dinkin' de ladies not be too happy wit' Remy if he do dat."
"And if you don't, Scott won't be happy. And Scott has some pull with Logan," Scott replied with a dark smile.
"Gambit be scouting."
*****
Logan held the back of Scott's head, unconsciously stroking his hair as the younger man licked and nibbled on his cock. All Jean saw before she was unceremoniously shoved forward was Scott's head at Logan's crotch. She heard the door lock and stared up at the men from her place on the carpet. She reached for Scott's mind and tasted Logan's pre-cum on her lips. Logan grinned at her with a glint in his hard blue eyes. Scott's hands clutched at Logan's hips as he was held to his task despite the arrival of his wife. Logan's silent demand sent a curling wave of anxiety directly to Scott's groin.
"Wanna join in, Darlin'?" Jean nodded. She got to her feet and stripped. She stroked down Scott's bare back. "Kid's good at it ain't he?" Logan purred. A jolt of electricity ran through Jean. She touched Scott's hair and then Logan pulled her into a kiss. Scott increased his rhythm as the link opened and he could feel the same sensations as his wife. The hand in his hair tightened and held him fast as Logan came. Jean kissed him and tasted Logan on his lips.
Lick me. Just like you did for Logan. I want him to watch you. Jean settled on the edge of the bed and instantly Logan was behind her as Scott settled in front of her. This wasn't real, she assured herself. She'd just been talking to Gambit too much. Not that she was angry with him. No, this was a nice little dream.
Scott's tongue felt like heaven as it dipped into her slit, then teased her clit. Logan's hands explored her body as he licked and bit at her neck whispering in her ear. "What's it like, knowin' ya can get him on his knees? When ya have the power ta get him ta do anythin' fer ya?" She shuddered and tightened her thighs along the sides of Scott's head. She felt Logan's hand range lower and watched it rest on Scott's head with the gentleness that Wolverine hid so well.
She moaned and arched back into the solid bulky mass that was Logan. She reached out for his mind and dragged him in to form a link with him as well. She melded Scott into the line as well and the three of them were washed in the constricted arousal that was pressing against Scott's clean jeans and the cresting wave that was Jean moving towards orgasm. The blissful peace that was Logan's post-orgasm mind eased the arousal and extended the moment. Jean groaned and came, shuddering so hard she thought she would shake apart.
Scott's fingers twitched towards his fly and Jean was swiftly shoved aside as Logan grabbed his wrists. Jean lay splayed across the covers and Logan pressed Scott onto her. He released the throbbing cock of his lover and bent to caress it. Scott stroked his head as he was licked gently. Then, as he was about to come Logan took him in fully into his mouth. Scott arched mindlessly. And spiraled down into sleep. Logan curled up with his lovers and smiled contentedly watching them breath before he slept.
*****
Rogue dragged Betsy with her to Storm's attic. Storm had a television and VCR combination in her greenhouse so she could keep abreast of the news without having to cram into the den with everyone else. Storm blinked at Rogue in surprise when she burst into the greenhouse. She set down her teacup. "Rogue, what's wrong, child?"
"Ah have something y'all have ta see!" she explained. Remy poked his head in just as she made her declaration. He gave her a thumbs up and went to seek out the professor. Rogue put the tape in the VCR and shut the door. She'd started the tape late in the session. Just before Logan had torn off Scott's jeans in fact. Storm and Betsy gasped and stared.
"Oh my," Betsy whispered.
"Goddess," Storm stated. She felt the blood flow away from her brain and instant later.
After swimming up from the murky depths of her own mind Besty asked, "how did that happen? I thought Logan was going to work out with Remy."
"Scott took Remy ta tha mats. When Remy surrendered, Logan tackled Scott. Mah God it was good."
*****
The professor's eyes were very far away. His book laid open in his lap. Remy set up the chessboard and poured the wine while Xavier was occupied. He was talking to someone, the young man supposed. Remy was hoping that the "girl talk" in Storm's attic wouldn't tire Rogue out too much. She'd been in the control room. He'd been right there.
He considered his reaction. He decided it had probably saved his life and didn't investigate any further. He could still feel the metal leaning against his collarbone. He was lucky that the sharp of the blades hadn't caught him. He speculated as to whether or not Logan had known on some level who he was. Sometimes, you just couldn't tell with Logan.
Remy looked up at the arousal that the professor had started to emit. Remy's eyes widened. Jean must have gotten the message when he'd locked the door. He wondered what had just happened that had caught the professor's attention. Xavier blinked at the young man who was sitting by the chess set. "Good evening, Remy."
"Evenin', Wheels. Y' gon' t' tell Remy what happened wit' Jeannie and de ot'ers, non?"
"Of course." Xavier smiled. He tapped his forehead and raised a brow at the young man. Remy grinned.
"F' dis, Remy let y' in."
*****
Jean Summers was aware of heat and the comforting presence of her husband. Suddenly, she opened one eye. Nope, the hand on her back definitely wasn't Scott's. One of Scott's hands was over his eyes, the other was under her head. She followed his arm with her eyes. Yep, that was another hand in the bed. Scott was holding hands with that other hand. It was a familiar hand. She distinctly remembered it from a dream she'd just had.
Dream she'd just had. Ooops. Looks like it wasn't a dream after all, my girl. No, you are quite clearly in bed with two men. She sat up quickly, pulling away the blankets from the other two. Scott and Logan were holding hands as they slept. Logan growled at the sudden cold and Scott yawned. He reached up for Jean's shoulder with an accuracy that was rather uncanny because his eyes weren't open.
"Come back here. You can only share body heat if you stay in contact with the other bodies," he informed her.
"But. But." She spluttered to a stop. "But Logan is…"
"Tryin' ta sleep, Darlin', so shut up an' come back ta bed. Ya can thank the Cajun tomorrow. Sleep now." She was pulled back down and the covers were tucked back around them.
"Wait. Where are your sleeping goggles, Scott?" she asked. He gestured vaguely towards Logan's night-table.
"Sleep is a good thing, Jean," he muttered. She located the goggles and pressed them into his hands. Logan's hand ruffled Scott's hair before reaching up to pull Jean down again.
"It was a dream!"
"Nope."
"No, honey, it wasn't. Now, shut up and go back to sleep." Jean laid down and shut her eyes. Her mind spun with possibilities.
*****
"Is that all you need, Jubilee?" Betsy asked as the young woman tossed a backpack over one shoulder and picked up a duffel bag. Jubilee considered for a moment, then nodded. Betsy opened the portal and they stepped into the main hall of the mansion. Before the Brit could stop her, she'd dropped her bags and was sprinting towards Wolverine's door. She burst into the room, then stopped dead. She carefully backed out of the room and found Betsy offering her a hug.
"That was definitely scary. What's going on around here? Was Wolvie possessed and no one bothered to tell me or what?" Her voice spiraled up in disbelief. Betsy calmed her and sent a desperate message to Remy. The Cajun wandered down from Rogue's room, fully dressed. That was a shock. He was awake on a Saturday. He smiled at Jubilee.
"Come wit' Remy, chere," he said putting out a hand. The teen took it. "Remy explain everyt'ing as we go t' de mall." Jubilee's mind reeled, but she caught the best words: "explain" and "mall."
"Okay, Gumbo, but it better be good."
"No need t' be growlin' like Wolvie, 'tite."
"I am not yer 'chere' and don't call me 'petite,' Cajun," she snapped. "And how the hell are we getting to the mall? They only streets they've bothered to clear are in the City."
"Gambit gonna show y' a secret, Jube." He led her to the basement, lower than Henry's labs. "Y' got everyt'ing y' need t' shop?" He tipped her a wink and she made a point of searching her yellow trench-coat. The outside pockets were empty and the inside ones were empty as well. Her jeans held her cash and the one credit card that Logan had given her for emergencies. She nodded. Remy offered her a pair of leather gloves. They were too small to be his, so she assumed they were Rogue's. She put them on and took the arm that Remy gallantly offered. He led her into the Morlock tunnels that no one ever mentioned.
"I thought these were blocked off."
Remy shook his head. "Non. Dey f'got 'bout dem. I dink de Proffeseur he de one dat make dem f'get. Dey got a lot o' pain in dese halls. Now, y' have questions?"
"Logan and Scott?!"
"Well, dey been hot f' each ot'er f'ever, chere. An' once Jean decided dat she like de two o' dem toget'er too, de boys get together."
"Like, before they got with her? And Jean went for that?"
"Remy got a tape t' show y' when we get back. Jean likes dem together." Remy's accent was slipping away and Jubilee was surprised to hear it lighten.
"And how did you get them together?"
"What makes y' think that Remy got anything t' do wit' it?"
"Because there's like, no way those two would get to it alone."
"Remy talk t' them. Dey like t' hear it so much that they be walkin' around wit' hard ons. Den, Jean tell Remy that she don' want t' be unfaithful and dat dey have t' ask." Remy shrugged. "They asked."
"What's up with the accent, Gumbo?"
"I'm tryin' t' practice wit'out it, chere. I learned to speak properly once, but I haven' had t' in so long that I can' remember how most o' de time."
"Really? When?"
"When I be at college. De English teacher, she decide dat I need t' learn t' speak proper
English." Remy shrugged. "Like dat help me when I be workin'.""I don't think theivin's on the schedule of normal colleges," Jubilee giggled.
"Non. She be pretty 'nough dat I go along wit' it."
"And you put on the mask when you got back to thieving and it's hard to take it off?"
"Exactly."
"So, what are we getting at the mall?"
"I'm meetin' wit' someone, an' y' get t' do some Christmas shoppin' afterwards."
"So, like, I'm yer back-up? Cool. Who're ya meeting?"
"Magneto." Jubilee stopped dead and spun Remy to meet her eyes.
"You are not serious," she said very distinctly. She sounded suspiciously like Emma Frost to Remy.
"I am," he protested. "De Professeur misses his friend. I wanna make 'im happy f' Christmas." Remy shrugged. "It not like Magneto do anything in a public place. He won' attack. He be too curious."
"Sure." She was unconvinced.
"Den Remy hit him wit' de charm power. It worked on Scott an' Logan an' Jean," he told her. She gaped. As she wrapped her mind around the concept they continued down the tunnel.
"Okay. I'll give ya that one, bub. But, Magneto?"
"Erik Lehnsherr," Remy said archly. He shrugged. "I have t' try." Jubilee squeezed his arm.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?"
"The past, 'tite. Just de past." He gestured at the tunnels. "We be a lot alike, de Morlocks an' me. Outcasts. Remy's eyes brand him as a mutant."
"They think one of my parents is white."
"'Cause of y' eyes, 'tite?"
"Yeah. It hurts when they tease."
"I know. I give y' a hug, y' don' be tellin' Logan, d'accord?"
"Yeah. I'll just hold it over you as blackmail." Remy gave her a one armed squeeze and she put an arm around his waist. "Why doesn't it get as cold down here as it is outside?"
"The Morlocks made it livable here. We almost dere, chere. We gonna have t' be careful. Don' want security t' catch us." Jubilee nodded her understanding. They slipped out of the sewers and into the back hall of the mall. They moved quickly to the actual mall. A security guard looked at them curiously for a moment, Remy wearing his dark shades, Jubilee with her pink shades holding up her hair.
"I mean, like, it's so totally yucky. I don't see how ya can stand it here. It's so cold. Everything gets cold," Jubilee said gesturing wildly. The guard rolled his eyes and ignored them. Remy checked his watch.
"We go get lunch first, den meet Erik at de coffee shop." Lunch was a simple affair in the food court. Jubilee ran through all of her gossip about the Academy and then Remy told her the doings at the mansion. Her jaw dropped.
"You are so bad! You and Rogue. I mean that's, like, wild. Bobby and Hank? Who'da guessed that one?"
Remy grinned. "Y' ready f' coffee now?"
"Yep." She was bouncing already.
"Decaf," Remy decided. Jubilee frowned, but sighed.
"You're buying."
"Oui. Come, chere. Let's find a place t' sit. Over dere, I dink. So dat we can see de mall an' dey can see us, but no one can hear us, non?"
"Sounds like a plan, Gumbo. Bring me a cookie too," she ordered. Remy bowed and went to collect their beverages. A rather calm and subdued Magneto was already in line.
"Bonjour, Erik!" Remy called. Startled the arch-villain looked over his shoulder. He nodded to the young man. He wondered at the amount of sheer frenetic energy as the young man ordered, attempting to make the Spanish speaking clerk understand French pronunciation of the drinks. Erik had to interfere before the frustration led to sparks. He didn't think the young man was that lax in his control, but one could never be sure. He ordered and Remy paid. "Merci, chere. We be sitting over dere."
"With the young woman in yellow?"
"Oui." Lehnsherr settled down at the table after an acknowledgment of Jubilee. She smiled at him with her copy of one of Logan's feral smiles. Magneto fought down a smile. He knew he was in no danger from these two children. "Un café, an' cookie f' y', 'tite."
"Thanks, Remy." She fixed the coffee with cream and sugar as Remy took his seat.
"I can't help but wonder why you asked to see me, Remy, isn't it?"
"Oui. Remy wan' t' talk t' y' 'bout somet'ing. Why y' so sad when y' see de professeur?" Magneto blinked. Hadn't Xavier told them anything?
"We were friends many years ago. But our dreams are different. Xavier believes that humans can rise above their petty hatred. I know that they cannot." Remy nodded, thoughtfully.
"But why y' be enemies, chere? A disagreement not be de end o' de world." Remy leaned forward. The older man found it amusing. These children weren't frightened of him in the least. Remy's hands moved as he spoke. "Xavier, he be sad 'bout y' too. It seem so…" his brow furrowed as he searched for the right word. "Inutile." He looked to Jubilee. She thought.
"Like a Duh?" When that didn't get a response she continued, "Foolish? Stupid? Pointless?"
"Pointless. It seem pointless t' keep fightin'. Dere's so much dat could be done if y' work t'gether."
"We cannot overcome our differences so easily, Remy," Erik said gently. This one was an optimist. He was so like Charles, but so completely different at the same time. "Why do you wear the glasses?" he asked suddenly. He wondered if Charles had taken in another one like Scott. The boy slipped them down his nose to reveal crimson eyes. He felt a surge of sympathy. Obvious mutants had no chance in this world. "I see. Why are you doing this?"
"Remy wan' t' know why de two o' y' don' stay friends. Remy have friends dat he don' agree wit'. What y' believe in don' mean dat y' can' love someone different den y'." He gestured to himself. "Remy love a woman he never gonna be able t' touch. She afraid o' spontaneous touch. Love can overcome dat. Y' know dat y' love Xavier. He be y' best friend an' de only one y' could talk t' f' so long. Y' love dat he can still dream. He make y' wonder if de world still have good in it." Jubilee wasn't sure what signaled the change, but she could almost feel something in the air. It was like being wrapped gently in cotton candy. It was sweet and gentle. It must have been his voice.
"Remy. We can not be friends."
"Why no?"
"Because it… It was over a long time ago," Erik said sadly.
"Y' still ache f' him dough. Y' wear de bucket so he don' see dat y' waver every time y' see him. Remy not sayin' dat it be de same as it was. Non, dere's no way t' go t' de past. Y' can' recreate it. But dat don' mean dat y' can' start again. Don' y' miss talkin' t' him? Or dat lil buzz in de back o' y're head dat tells y' dat y' not alone?" Erik sighed. It had been so long since he had someone to rely on completely. His acolytes were flattering, but he hadn't had a good chess match in ages. And he hadn't had a good argument since he'd left Xavier in a fit of fury.
"Charles and I have nothing left to build on."
"Dat not true!" Remy hissed. "Dere still be affection dere. Dat means dere's somet'ing t' save. Y' so rich in affection, not fawning, not yes men dat y' can turn away fr' someone who really care f' y'? Someone who care f' Erik not Magneto. F' someone dat see y' as a man, not an object t' be fed lines. Someone dat don' worry 'bout pleasin' y'?" Erik smiled. This child seemed so serious about it. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to consider it.
"Perhaps, at times I miss it." Remy grinned at him.
"Y' miss it more dan y' let y'self know. He miss y' too, y' know. He miss y' de worst when he be playin' chess. He talk 'bout y' den. After some wine. He need y'. Y' love him in spite o' what he be. Y' love him even dough y' know dat he could control y' t'oughts. He do dat dough, not even usin' his powers, non? Y' love him. An' y' wan' him t' be happy. He has his children and y' have y'r acolytes. But dere's no reason not t' call. T' write at least. It make de two o' y' feel so much better. Y' have email on dat station o' yers non?"
"Yes, Remy," Erik laughed. "I have email."
"Good. Dis be Xavier's address. Dis be de phone numbers. Dis be de address. Can' miss it. It be a big ole house."
"I wouldn't be welcome."
"Den jus' call an' talk t' him. Y' might be surprised."
"You are meshugga! What are you? Xavier's pet Zunoifirer? Or just a muttelmessung?" I must be oiver botel. This child has me reduced to Yiddish. I haven't done that in years. The only other person who's ever done this was Charles. The young man looked at him in confusion. "You are a crazy meddler."
"Nope, he's a yenta!" Jubilee declared. Remy shot her a murderous look that was inhibited by the shades. Magneto laughed. He hadn't done that in years either, he discovered.
"Alright, meshugga, I'll write to Charles." They chatted on over coffee about politics and the holidays. Just before Erik was prepared to leave Remy handed him a small blue package.
"Happy Chanukha," Remy said. Erik blinked. He carefully opened the package. He smiled. There was a dredel, gold chocolate coins, gloves, a pen and ink, an address book, a stationary kit, a set of marbles, and book of puzzles. He smiled. Remy felt some of the loneliness ease in the older man and knew that he'd won.
"Vielen Dank, Remy." He smiled at the pair. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jubilation Lee. Perhaps I shall see the two of you in the future. You are always welcome to join me."
"Thank you for the offer, sir," Remy said carefully. Magneto left them and Jubilee sagged against Remy's side.
"I think that was probably the weirdest on record meeting of an X-man with Mags."
"Fer sure," Remy teased. Jubilee smacked his arm.
"Now, we need to go shopping!"
"You go t' de music shop f' Remy?"
"Sure."
"Here's a list an' a card an' a note."
"Remington Montgomery?" Jubilee asked. "This legal?"
"Oui. An' if dere somet'ing y' see dat y' wan', get it. T'ink of it as a t'ank y' present."
"You are so cool." Jubilee left and Remy headed directly for the his favorite jewelry store.
*****
"So, y' okay wit' Scott and Logan bein' together, Jube?" The young mutant thought for a long time. They were secluded in Remy's room, wrapping packages. She wasn't even sure if Logan knew she was at the mansion.
"I'll deal. I can't believe it though. They're so… I dunno, opposite."
"Not so opposite as y' might dink, chere. Logan an' Scott bot' be loyal. Dey both like t' fight and they both love Jean."
"Would you pick one accent or the other. The mix is starting to irritate me." Remy grinned.
"F' y', anyt'ing."
"Careful there, Cajun," Logan growled from the doorway.
"Wolvie!" Jubilee launched herself into his arm as Gambit hid the presents she'd gotten for Logan. He hugged her close.
"I hear ya know 'bout Jeannie, Scott and me."
"Yeah. I sorta walked in on you this morning. Remy explained it to me and took me shopping. Ya better be happy or they answer to me!" she declared.
"I'm glad, Darlin'. I wasn't thinkin' all that clearly when we got together. Whatcha been up to, Jubes?" They wandered off together as Jubilee launched into a monologue of her activities. Remy shook his head and kept wrapping. He snuck the packages down to the parlor and set them under and into the tree. He felt an old pang of longing in his chest.
"I hate Christmas," he whispered to the ornaments in French.
"Then why do you do so much for it?" Jean asked from the doorway, with an armful of presents. Remy helped her set them out as he thought about that.
"'Cause I can't no' do it. Dat be worse. Have t' do all I can t' make it better."
"Remy, does this happen every year?" she asked touching his shoulder. He shied away from the touch, reminding her a little too much of Rogue in the motion. That was the one thing she was hoping he'd be able to train out of her, not pick up himself.
"Depends on what Remy be up to at de time." He shrugged. He couldn't tell her that it had been all the time when he was working for Sinister. He couldn't tell her he hadn't enjoye