Title: Step Back From That Ledge

Author: eoen

Email: wedchild@mail.com

Pairing: Jean/Logan/Scott/Remy

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Sinister decides to meddle in our fearless foursome's lives.

Archive: yes, let me know where. (All yours Lu)

Series/Sequel: Yup. Follows: Two's Company, Four's…?, Wild, That Healing Touch

Web Page: http://www.yathink.tvheaven.com

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.

Warnings: Slash, Foursome, *very* mild bondage


Step Back From That Ledge
By Eoen


Gambit snuggled under the pillow in an attempt to block out the evil sunlight. "Logan," Scott snapped from somewhere by his right shoulder. Logan chuckled and the mattress shifted. The curtains were drawn shut and the sunlight dimmed.

"Better?"

"Yes. You know the sun makes me cranky."

"I'd noticed. Wake up, Gumbo. Time fer food." Remy muttered something into the mattress. Jean snickered. "What was that?"

"He said 'die, alien scum.'"

"Funny. Sounded more like Bobby with his mouth full." Scott pulled off the pillow. Gambit's eyes were resolutely closed. "Come on, Sweets." He tugged on a chunk of hair.

"Fuckin' mornin' person." Remy cracked one eye and winced. "Can' y' afford blinds?"

"Don't need 'em, Darlin'."

"Light bad."

"Seconded." Jean raised a fist briefly in support of that and yawned.

"Time to get up," Scott told them. Remy gestured vaguely in the direction of his robe.

"M' shades," he demanded. Logan fished them out of the pile of satin and passed them over.

"I thought you only wore those when you were hungover," Scott commented.

"De light's too strong f' m' eyes in de mornin'. Dey'll adjust a bit later. If'n y' had blinds…" he trailed off with a sigh. Scott shook his shoulder.

"I'm not letting you go back to sleep."

"Cul."

"Damn. Now I've got to learn French."

"Called ya and asshole," Logan translated with a grin.

"Brat." Scott flicked the younger man's ear. Remy pried his eyes open behind protective shades. He was startled to find Scott and Logan both dressed. Jean had the decency to be naked. He glared at them and crawled out of the bed. Logan held his robe out for him. Remy slipped it on. He looked around for his pajamas. He found instead a neat stack of clothes.

"A valet? Pour moi? Tres bon. Merci." Logan shook his head.

"Don't get used to it." Remy took the stack to the bathroom.

"So what scheme are you two hatching?" Jean asked.

"Just politics." Scott waved a hand. "Nothing dangerous. More of an intellectual pursuit."

"Liar," Jean accused.

"So maybe I hope it will be more, but I'm not betting on the outcome." Logan shook his head.

"Ya know, Jeannie, I think we just found the downside to this arrangement. Scott's tactics, Remy's deviousness. We're toast."

"Hey," Scott protested. "I'm merely channeling out powers for good."

"Right, cher," Remy said from the doorway. "As if dey're gonna believe dat."

"It all depends on how you define good," Scott responded stubbornly.

"I'm guessin' y'r de one dat raided m' room," Remy said with a raised brow in Cyclops' direction. Scott grinned.

"How'd you guess?"

"Because y' de only one dat'd pull out m' leather." Remy said, looking over the top of his sunglasses.

"Fits better'n yer jeans," Logan defended the choice. "Besides, they're the only thing he knew fer sure the color of." Remy's brows drew down.

"I see in reds, Remy." Gambit was confused. "I just matched your shirt to your eyes."

"Oh. But I dought dat y'r eyes adjust t' filters."

"The brain damage affected the visual cortex. I see in red, like my powers."

"Brain damage?" Remy asked.

"I thought everyone knew about that. When I was a kid, I got pushed out of a plane. When I hit the ground, I hit my head and ended up in a coma. There was not apparent damage except memory when I woke up. I started getting headaches. The quartz eased them." He shrugged. "It's the only thing that controls the beams." Scott shrugged.

"Knew about de quartz, but not de damage. I dought it was another Xavier moment. Y' know, like tellin' Rouge her powers are uncontrollable. Or teachin' Stormy t' shut off her emotions instead of her powers." The three stared at him. "What? Roguie could modify a collar int' a necklace t' be able t' touch. An' Stormy should be able t' control de effects she's got on de weat'er rather dan her emotions. I figured dat at least de connard let y' have de visor t' save on property damage."

"I didn't realize you were so… critical of the professor," Jean commented. "I know you don't like him, but I thought you'd at least bond over Star Trek or something."

"He likes Picard," Gambit informed her. "Remy, he likes de original, one and only, Kirk. Y'r professor is driven. He an' Mags go head t' head because dey bot' believe dey're right. De man ain't all dat different from Sinister. Straight ahead. My way's de only way. Damn, de consequences because I’m right." Gambit gestured with a sneer. "Dey're users. All t'ree of dem. Dey use whoever dey get t' believe in dem or trust dem, an' don' care who gets hurt."

Jean pressed against his shields and found them harder than before. They reflected back more of her energy. He looked chagrinned. "Je suis desole, chers. Didn' mean t' go off on y'. Better dat I yell at him f' makin Betsy try t' force her way in or somet'in'."

"What?" Scott and Logan chorused as Jean went to get ready. She already had Betsy's side of that story.

"I was in a coma a few weeks back, oui?"

"I vaguely recall the incident," Scott said sitting down on the bed and patting for Remy to join him as Logan took the other side. Remy opted for the foot of the bed so he could look them in the eye.

"Well, Charles asked Betsy t' scan m'. Wanted t' know m' secrets. De shield held, but it's weaker where she hit it now. Shut her out. Had t' up security around dat area." His eyes were focused on a point between their heads. "He can't get t'rough m' shields at all. He dought a femme'd have a better chance at it." Remy shrugged. "What's on de plan books, Cyke?"

"We figure out what we're going to say at the briefing tomorrow."

"How about, none of y' business, mes amis?"

"Well, it's short, but it lacks certain detail points," Scott assessed.

"Ain't no one else ever discussed sleepin' arrangements before. And y' know dat suddenly tellin' dem about m' history ain't gonna go over well."

"They'll get over it. Especially if you do the tearful confession bit and let Jean give them snapshots of your past."

"Non!" Remy's eyes flared brightly enough that they could be seen through the dark glasses. Scott put out a hand.

"Come here." Remy crawled up the bed and settled between the two older men. "Who are you worried about?"

"Mon petite Stormy's gonna hate m'," Remy said softly. "And Ange is gonna have reason f' hatin' m' now." Scott bit back a comment on Warren's reactions to people. He settled a comforting arm around Remy's silk clad shoulders. Logan's arm wrapped around the younger man's waist.

"Storm should probably be told privately. Warren will just have to suck it up."

"His wings…"

"Aren't your fault. They were crushed and then amputated. But you aren't Harpooner."

"But dey… Merde. Gambit done hired dem. Dey were m' team. Dat's what makes m' responsible." Jean sat at the foot of the bed.

"And you still feel their victims' pain," she stated. "You still hear their screams. You have to let them rest. Then you'll be able to think clearly about things."

"But I *can't*, Jean. If I forget dem, den who's t' remember?"

"The X-men remember. Storm remembers. A little girl named Sarah remembers. You don't have to bleed for them."

"I should. If I hadn'…"

"Trusted your boss?" Scott interrupted. "At least I know why you question me." He squeezed gently.

"I should've…"

"Known? You aren't a 'path, Honey," Jean told him. "How was that mission different from any other one?"

"Besides genocide?" Remy asked icily.

"Yes. Besides that."

"Was de first time wit'out m' full powers. De first time Chatton's claws hurt. First time 'Hunter yelled at m'. First time it weren't a quiet raid f' information or a kidnappin'." Remy's voice grew steadily colder until Scott expected icicles to form on the windows. The shoulders under his arm grew stiffer and straighter with every word.

Jean removed Remy's glasses. She stared into his demon-child eyes without flinching. "It was *not* your fault. Creed nearly killed you when you tried to stop them." Remy could taste her angers, hot and bright against her sincerity. "You cannot take the blame for this. I want to show them your memories," she informed him. "Just like I showed Scott."

"Non."

"Oui," she snapped back. "This is important, Remy. If this stays a secret someone is going to use to use it against us. Maybe even Sinister himself. I am not going to let that happen." Remy flinched away from her anger, not bothering to hide the reaction. "Consider it a good-will present." There was a long silence, then Gambit slightly inclined his head.

"After I tell Stormy."

"Agreed."



Jean surveyed the kitchen in dismay. It was obvious that no one had been shopping in weeks. She cursed silently. //Logan, we're going grocery shopping.//

//Why me?// Logan practically whined.

//Because I said so.// Logan looked longingly at the television.

"Damn," he muttered and hauled himself to his feet. "Women," he commented with a shrug at Warren's questioning look. He tossed the remote to him and stalked out.

"Yippee!" Bobby said wrestling the remote away from Angel and flopped down on the couch.



Storm smiled at Remy. He was dressed up for a Saturday. "Petite, y' got plans f' lunch?"

"No, Remy."

"Y' come wit' m' den?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course." She assessed her outfit against her brother's and judged it appropriate. She blinked when he opened the door of the Corvette for her. Normally, they rode his motorcycle. She waited until they were on the road to ask, "What is the special occasion?"

"We need t' talk, Ro," he told her seriously. He shifted gears, the bell on his wrist chiming incongruously. "We need t' talk."



//What *are* you working on, Scott?// Xavier asked.

//Propaganda,// Scott replied.

//You know I don't approve of manipulating people.// Scott's immediate snort of disbelief was answered by Professor X's disapproving frown.

//I'll run the final drafts past you as soon as Kitty mocks them up.//

//You're bringing Kitty into this waste of resources?//

//Well, it won't be *your* money that will be funding us then,// he said thoughtfully. He was already listing alternate sources of income in his head. //That also means I won't have to waste your time with those mock-ups,// he told the older man cheerfully. //That worked out well, didn't it?//

//----// Xavier couldn't think up a good response and cut off the contact. Scott grinned and turned up his "work mix" CD.


Logan grumbled as they worked their way through the discount club. Jean glared at him, hands on her hips. "Yes, Darlin'?" he said sweetly.

"Don't 'Darling' me, Logan. Stop griping or else." He raised a brow.

"That could be interestin'," he leered. She looked down her nose at him, a smile twitching at her lips.

"Just get the paper towels down," she gestured at the pile. He blinked at her, pushing his hat back on his head to see her more clearly. He rolled crystal blue eyes and yanked down a flat of paper towels. "And TP." He grabbed the toilet paper and added it to the cart.

"Good thing we brought the van," he stated.

"I always plan ahead. That's why the seats are out of it." She checked her list. "Meats and frozen foods next."

"Great," he said. She led the way past a snickering couple. Logan glared at them, but shrugged. "Redheads," he stated. That set the newlyweds off. He grinned as Jean looked back, fire crackling in her eyes.



Storm frowned as Remy played with his food. The booth was comfortably protected in the back of the restaurant. High backs muffled the conversations. "What is the matter, brother? I am not upset about your new relationship," she told him, putting her hand over his and squeezing. "Or even upset that you haven't told me yet. I know it is hard for you to accept new lovers."

"Non, dat ain' it, Stormy."

"Don't call me that," she teased gently.

"Sorry, Ororo." She stared starting to get a twist in her gut that indicated there was something going wrong.

"Remy, what is wrong?" She squeezed his hand again and he gave her a wan smile.

"Y' know I don' talk 'bout m' past much, 'tite."

"I know that." She was confused. He gently disengaged his hand and took a sip of red wine. He pushed his sunglasses up to expose his eyes. She was surprised. He never did that in public.

"I need t' tell y' somet'in'. And I need y' t' hear m' out. Den y' ask questions, oui?"

"Of course." He nodded and dropped his shades back onto his head.

"Y' know I ain't always de smartest," he said ruefully. "Act before I dink, me. Y' know I ain't afraid of much. But I'm afraid t' tell y' dis. I'm afraid of m' Stormy hatin' m'."

"Remy?" She reached out to comfort him, but he shook his head.

"Let m' talk, D'Accord?" She nodded.

"I used t' work f' Sinister," he said bluntly and she gasped, horror in her eyes. "He saved m' life, 'tite, and I owed him f' dat. Part of dat payment was t' assemble a team of mercs f' him. De Marauders." She bit her tongue to keep from speaking. "And de last mission he sent ole Remy on, it wasn' what I dought it was. He said he wanted t' get samples from some mutants livin' underground." Ororo trembled. She forced herself to stay calm. "Seems he told de ot'ers different from Gambit," he whispered. "When he led dem in, people started dyin'. Tried t' stop dem, Ro. I did. But dey be too strong." A single tear tracked down his cheek. "All dose people died because Gambit led does monsters int' de Morlock Tunnels." Thunder echoed through the skies and Remy dropped his head into his hands. His pasta lay abandoned. He couldn't look up at his best friend. He felt the sorrow and the anger and the fear and betrayal and guilt. They pounded into his gut like Sabretooth's fists. He wanted to cry or throw up or scream, but he didn't. He let her emotions wash over him and did nothing but wait.

"Why, Remy?" she whispered. "Why?"

"Why what, 'tite?" he asked in a low voice.

"Why did you owe him?"

"M' powers went haywire and nearly killt m'. He saved m' life. An' he wanted a team. I made him a team. Trained wit' dem, got dem workin' t'get'er and turned it over t' Crow, uh, Scalphunter. And he asked m' t' get dem past de security. I did dat. I didn' know dey were gonna kill dem, chere."

"Your powers?" she said sadly. Remy shrugged, helpless to explain further right then. The storm outside whipped through the trees and darkened the sky into night. And the Goddess wept.



Scott looked up at the first peal of thunder. He closed his eyes. So Remy had told her. He just hoped they'd get home in one piece.



Jean looked up at the darkened sky. She looked around. The parking lot was deserted. When did everyone leave? She wondered. She looked around again. Something wasn't right. Logan stiffened next to her, straining to pick up an elusive scent. He spun just as the hands clamped around his throat with a collar. He didn't see Jean struggling in Arclight's grip. He growled as the sedative took effect.



Professor Charles Xavier sat straight up with a cry on his lips. //Jean!// he called out. There was no reply. //X-men scramble!// he broadcast.



Storm's head tilted. "We must go, brother. We will deal with this later." Remy dropped a fifty on the table and led her out. It always paid to tip well. That way the waiters remembered to forget him. He jammed the car into gear as Storm fastened her seatbelt. She reached over to do his. He felt her worry.

"Le Professeur?" he questioned.

"All alert scramble. There's an emergency." Remy skidded around a corner, thankful that the rain and gusts avoided their car. It was always best to have Ororo close in the middle of an emotional storm. The car screeched to a halt and they ran into the war room. With a practiced eye, Gambit noticed who *wasn't* there.

"Merde," he muttered softly. "Why now?" Scott was looking pale. His lips were compressed with fury however and Gambit pitied the idiot who'd been stupid enough to hurt the man's wife *and* his man.

"Good. Let's begin," Xavier stated. "No more than fifteen minutes ago, Jean cried out to me. I do not know what exactly happened, but I can no longer find her or Wolverine." Scott's jaw twitched. "I have scanned the area around their last known location. There is no trace of them there. Cerebro recorded a disturbance at the same time Jean's cry went out. There was tesseract activity."

"Sinister," Scott growled. Xavier nodded. "I assume their coms have also been put off-line?"

"Yes."

"At least we know he won't kill Jean immediately," Scott stated. "That gives us a little leeway. Iceman, Angel, Beast, I want you to check their last location. And bring home the groceries," he added. "Take the spare keys to the van. Look for any traces of which Marauders he sent. We can be fairly sure that it wasn't Sabretooth or we would have had more notice."

"More likely Arclight and Scalphunter," Remy stated, softly. Scott glanced at him and cocked his head to the side. Gambit gave him a small shake of the head. No one seemed to think it was strange. Gambit was one of their "underground" sources after all.

"I don't know what he wants with Wolverine. I don't know if he's expendable in the bastard's view or not." Cyclops ruthlessly squashed his emotions. "We have to assume he's either sedated or dead." Xavier frowned, but didn't contradict the assertion. Cyclops stood and began to pace. "Iceman, Angel, Beast, go. We'll be waiting for your results. Psylocke, I want you to monitor Cerebro for any further tesseract activity. Professor, would you continue to scan for them?" Xavier inclined his head. "Gambit, Storm, go over the files. Find any past locations where Sinister has been active. We'll focus there first. Bishop, with me for mission prep."



The team scattered to their assigned tasks. Gambit and Storm barely spoke as they went through the files. They were sitting in Scott's office with reports scattered around them. "Does he know?" Storm asked quietly.

"Oui. Learned about it a day or so ago. Logan made me tell Jean, who told Scott." Remy grimaced. "Den, Scott, he decided dat we got t' tell everyone, but I dought it best t' tell y' first. Roguie might know now, if'n she went t'rough m' memories."

"And you have written up a list of Sinister's bases for Scott."

"It's here. Need t' see where de recent activity is dough. Need t' see which base he be usin'. Dis was a snatch and grab, petite. I dink we get dem back." He found himself playing with the bell and forced his hands back to the papers. "I dink Essex got a plan f' dem," he said more to himself than Storm. Ororo watched her brother carefully.

"You would rather be with Cyclops at this moment." Gambit snorted.

"Non, cher. Dat's de last place f' m' now. Dat wouldn' be a good move. People start askin' too many questions dat we can' answer yet. Ain' dat many people dat register dat dey be a trio. Let alone t'rowin' ole Remy int' de mix. Non, best t' keep dings normal f' de moment. T'night, if dere ain' no word, den I go t' Cyke. Make him relax. Right now, he's de Fearless Leader, not Scott. T'night, he break down." Gambit shrugged. "Y' got de last mont' records dere? And why ain' we checkin' wit' dat damn computer?"

"Because Betsy is currently using it to do sweeps of the countryside."

"Must be losin' m' edge, padnat." Gambit shook his head. "F'got dat."

"Considering you were in a coma less than a month ago, that Psylocke didn't think you would awaken from, I believe you are doing well." The storm was lessening outside. There was still anger and grief to be dealt with, but for the moment, there was something more important. "Have you found the last time that Jean was kidnapped?"

"Oui, it's here. But she weren't alone den. Took de whole team, chere. Even y'."

"Oh, that one," Ororo looked chagrined. "We got out of that by turning one of his people against him."

"Not hard," Remy snorted. Storm's lip twitched. "He ain't never had de girl alone. And accordin' t' dis report he ain't never run tests on her. But dat can' be right. Weren't Cable's mama a clone of Jeannie?"

Storm shrugged. "Perhaps he took samples we were unaware of."



"Sir?" Bishop asked in concern as Cyclops glared at the Blackbird's computer.

"I can not believe this is happening. I'm going to kill Drake. I'm going to throw him throw my office window into the back yard and drown him in the lake."

"What's wrong?" "He forgot to do the fucking re-supply checklist last time we landed. What the fuck am I supposed to do when no one does their god damned chores?"

"Discipline them?" Bishop suggested.

"Can I borrow your gun for that?" The large man's lips twitched into a smile.

"Of course, Cyclops. However, I think the recoil might be a bit too strong to handle without practice."

Cyclops considered this argument as he started running down the checklist. "Oh well, I'll just have to get Gambit's gun out of his nightstand."

"The 9mm or the 45?"

"Oh, the 45 has so much more presence."



"Okay, Hank, what exactly is that thing?"

"A scanner. I'm looking for evidence of a struggle."

"There was no struggle. Jean would have called for help," Warren contradicted. "What did she do? Buy out the place? Drake, get over here and freeze the frozen foods again."

Bobby stuck his tongue out. "I'm not a cooler."

"You are if I say you are," Warren said mildly.

"If I remember correctly, Slim named *me* first, which I think means I'm in charge here."

"Robert," Hank said with a sigh. "If the ice cream melts, it will destroy the Twinkies' box."

"Good enough for me. Frozen foods container coming up. Can we get moving now?"

Hank nodded sadly. "There's nothing here for us to find. They even took her purse."

"Hey, isn't that Logan's hat?" Warren asked pointing to a battered cowboy hat that had been half-sucked into the gutter. He went after it. Hank assessed that it was indeed their Canadian compatriot's hat and that he would be most appreciative of having it in waiting for him upon his return. Bobby had taken the hat reverently and pulled the moisture from it for use in protecting the food stuffs on the way home.



Eventually, they had to pull back. The professor and Betsy set up two hour shifts to scan for Jean's presence on the astral. Scott set up a security rotation to watch Cerebro. Storm made a light dinner for them all, but no one had much of an appetite. Xavier urged Scott to go to bed, but it didn't work. Scott settled in the den, unable to sleep. He couldn’t think of anything except Jean having to deal with Sinister alone. He couldn't feel her in his head and the lack of her was beginning to scare him. He was staring at a silent television when he felt an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into the embrace, not caring who it was. The soft cotton wool brush against his shields told him more than any words could have. "Hey, Rem."

"Hey, cher," Gambit responded softly. He rubbed Scott shoulder gently. "Y' need t' get some rest y' know. Y' ain' gonna do dem any good stayin' up."

"I can't sleep." Remy smiled sadly. He gave the older man's a squeeze. He stood and pulled Scott to his feet.

"Come on." He led him up the stairs with an insistent pressure on his wrist. Scott looked around Remy's room as if he hadn't just seen it earlier. Remy shook his head and sat Scott down on the bed. "Stay. Good, Cyke." He went downstairs in search of something stronger than the beer in the kitchen. That meant, of course, that he was poking around in Xavier's personal stash when the professor came into his office.

"Gambit?" he questioned carefully.

"Y' want y'r scotch while I'm in here?" Gambit asked without shame.

"No thank you. I need to remain clear-headed. Scott doesn't drink, Gambit."

"Non, but Remy does," Gambit snapped. He took the whiskey and two glasses from the professor's stash and returned to his room, Xavier staring after him.



Scott was playing with a small top he'd found on the thief's desk. It glittered in the light as it spun, the small mirrors that lined it twinkling. He looked up and saw Remy's indulgent smile. "Fun, non?"

"Yeah. Looks like something Bobby'd have though."

"I *like* shiny dings," Remy stated with a grin. "It was an impulse, non? Dought it shined nice. M' good luck charm. Don' work most of de time," he added. "Drink?"

"Oh yeah. Hand it over, Cajun." Scott took a gulp of the burning liquid. "Charles is going to go livid about this," he said gesturing at the bottle.

"He knows."

"Duh."

"Y' spend too much time 'round Jubes."

"Pot, kettle, kid."

"An' just why y' get away wit' callin' po' Remy 'kid'?"

"Because I've got eight years, plus fourteen in the future on you, Kid."

"An' dat don' bother y' none?" Remy asked suddenly.

"Nope. My other boyfriend's over eighty." Scott shrugged. Then, he gulped more of the whiskey. "Do you think he'll give them back?" Scott asked, looking down at the liquid in his glass.

"Oui. I do. I don't know what sort of shape he give dem back in dough," Remy whispered. "Better t' get dem out. He gonna mind-wipe dem. We ain't gonna know what he done t' dem, less we get dem out now." Remy toed off his shoes and folded his legs up onto the bed. Scott took a deep breath.

"That list you gave me…?"

"Complete as I can make it, cher. Don' know which bases he's usin' know. De one in Seattle ain't exactly in de best condition," Remy said blushing. "We had a fight dere."

"Oh, I have to hear the whole story on this one." Scott settled on the bed. There was something truly disturbing about hearing his lover talk about Sinister plainly. Remy rolled his eyes.

"Well, after he got m' mostly back in order, 'cept f' m' leg was still healin', Remy started doin' dings dat le docteur, he don' like. I was stretchin' t' keep de scars limber. And I was pushin' m' PT a bit too far in his opinion. Well, turns out dat Genoshan collars don' stop Omega class powers. We were havin' a screamin' fight about what Remy should or should not do while he was healin'. Nearly nose t' nose we were. An' de collar shorted out from havin' too much power in it. Blew out half de man's machinery in dat hall. De only reason I didn' bring de place down around our ears is because it were made of adamantium. Stuff don't take charge dat easy. Too stable. Nat'aniel, he gave m' de same long sufferin' look Charles gets when y' start talkin' about mebbe makin' dis place a real school." Scott snickered. He brought the subject up precisely because it got that reaction from the professor. "So, he looks down his nose at Remy, non? He says, an' dis is a direct quote, cher, 'That is quite enough of that, young man. I think LeBeau didn't turn you over his knee quite often enough. This discussion is closed. The remainder of your bed-rest will include recreating the data you have just destroyed.'" Remy gave Scott a conspiratorial grin. "Lucky for Remy dat copyin' all of de man's files was de first ding he did every mornin', non?"

Scott's jaw dropped. "You stole his data?"

"An' sold it t' half de worl', cher." Gambit looked quite pleased with himself. "Not all of it, course. Didn' let no one have all de research. But enough t' get dem in de right directions f' curin' cancer an' all."

"The bad news is?" Scott queried.

Remy frowned. "Lost all m' stuff when I ran from de tunnels. Had t' replace most of m' tools on top of it. Cost m' about two mill t' replace what dat bastard made m' lose."

"Ah." Scott nodded.

"Come on, cher. Let's get y' int' de shower."

"But…"

"Y' dink somet'in' goin' t' change in ten minutes?" Scott sighed.

"It might."

"Den y' go t' fight wit' wet hair." Scott hesitated before putting his glass down on the desk. Remy took it from him and set it on the tray on his dresser. He tugged Scott to his feet. He pulled at the older man's clothes until he was striped bare.

There was nothing but comfort in the gentle kiss Gambit pressed to Scott's lips. "Y' go arrange dings f' y'self. Remy get y' somet'in' t' change int' and y'r uniform just in case." Scott gave him a half smile.

"You'll be back soon, right?"

"Oui, cher. I won' leave y' alone t'night." He squeezed Scott's hand and left the bedroom.



"I take it Scott's spending the night in *your* room," Warren said, watching the Cajun come back from the boathouse.

"Oui," Gambit said.

"Why?"

"He can' go back t' de boathouse wit'out Jeannie t' tell him what's happenin' here. He can' sleep in Logan's room wit'out dinkin' about him in de labs. He can't sleep in his ole room wit'out dinkin' of Jeannie." Remy shrugged. "Gambit, he don' care where he sleep. Crash wit' Stormy. Or wit' Roguie's animals."

Warren had to admit to the logic in that argument. He felt off-kilter himself without Jean in the house. It had to be worse for Scott. He looked at Logan's hat on the kitchen table. "Take this too," Warren said handing it to the thief. A flash of something like grief passed over Gambit's face. It wasn't until the Cajun had left that Warren remembered that Gambit and Wolverine were friends.



Scott rubbed his hair fairly dry. He looked at the neatly laid out clothes. "Thanks." Remy shrugged.

"Turnabout." The Cajun was curled up at the head of the bed. Logan's hat hung off the edge of the desk chair. Cyclops' battle-visor and sleeping goggles were next to the bed. On the side of the bed he usually took at the boathouse. He fingered the visor. "An' dis is when Scotty gets int' bed like a good boy."

Scott snorted, but slid between the satin sheets, letting Remy take the towel from him. Gambit pulled the velvet coverlet up to Scott's chin. Scott's eyes closed, enjoying the cool slither of the sheets against his skin. He heard the soft click of the lights shutting off as he changed into his still-hated goggles. The bed shifted. A kiss ghosted over his forehead. "Be back in a second, cher," the Cajun promised.

"Better be." Scott opened his eyes to watch Remy move around the room. He watched as he poured a measure of whiskey into what appeared to be a red glass and set it in front of a lighted candle. Remy murmured something, then set a glass hurricane over the candle. "That's not safe."

"Dat's what de glass is for. Keeps de flame from leavin' de holder. De base is metal. Sometimes, y' need t' ask f' help."

"I never thought of you as religious." Scott snuggled closer as Remy spooned behind him. The thief draped an arm over Scott's stomach before responding.

"I ain' really. I believe, oui. But I don' practice dat much. Don' seem t' be wort' it, non? But I know dat dere ain' never been not'in' bad come from prayin'." Scott rubbed the silver tag between his fingers.

"I've never prayed. I never believed that there was someone listening."

"S'okay, cher. Dey believe in y'," Remy teased. "An' so do I," he added more seriously. He kissed the back of Scott's neck. "We get dem back, mon amour."

Scott turned to face his newest lover. He traced the high cheekbone with a single finger. He kissed Remy gently, exploring his mouth, savoring the taste of him beneath the mint of the toothpaste. He nipped lightly at the thief's lower lip as he pulled back.

Gambit's lips stayed parted asking for another kiss. Cyclops obliged. It was reassuringly real to be kissing. He settled into Gambit's hard grasping hug and let himself be tucked in safely. "It's so quiet in my head right now," Scott whispered. Gently, resolutely, his shields were wrapped in the silken threads of protectiveness.

"Ain' a crime t' cry," Remy whispered. "Y'r scared, cher. Dat's normal. Let it go." Scott wrapped his arms around Gambit's torso and let himself be held as the emotions coursed through him. There were no tears. There never would be, if Scott had anything to say about it. In the light of day, he would and had, forced the emotions down with activity. He'd been able to forget about the link. But Jean wasn't *there*. The link had a vacant, echoing feeling and his thoughts doubled back on themselves, swirling in eddies through his brain.

It was so much easier when she helped him sort through things. They had a mental shorthand. She filled the empty parts of his mind, kept him from brooding. He lowered his shields and soaked in soft, airy light, gentle, cushioning pressure, and sharp, hot spice. "Thanks," Scott whispered.

"D'Accord. Remy keep y' safe, cher. Sleep, Scotty," he commanded, voice dropping into a whiskey whisper that vibrated through Scott's mind. His eyes slipped shut and he slept.



Morning came far too early. Scott woke quickly, as usual. But he didn't move. He felt a hand stroking through his hair. It felt nice. So did the steady heartbeat under his ear. "Mornin', cher," Remy whispered. "Y' sleep okay?"

"Fine, Rem." He looked up at the thief and smiled as the stroking changed to his cheek. "Didn't you shave that off last night?" he asked poking at the bristles on Gambit's cheeks.

"Oui. Grows fast. Have t' shave at least t'ree times a day t' keep it smooth. If dat's what y' like." Scott was startled.

"It doesn't matter to me," he replied. Remy nodded.

"D'Accord."

"Rem, did you sleep at all last night?"

"It's still night, cher," Remy told him, rolling his eyes. He shook his head. "I'm nocturnal. M' eyes like de dark better'n de sun. I told y' I'd watch over y'," he added in exasperation.

"Oh, Sweets, you didn't have to stay up for me." Scott said stroking Remy's hand where it was settled on his stomach.

"I promised, cher. I said I'd keep y' safe. Dat means keepin' watch. Ain' like it's gonna hurt m'. I catch a nap once y' ready t' get up."

"What if I don't want to get up?" Scott asked

"Den I stay here, non? Cuddle f' awhile. Den, we go pester de pup about what happened durin' de overnight. Y' take y' rotation at noon. An' Remy takes his at four." Scott rolled his eyes. He sat up.

"You aren't supposed to be responsible." Remy grinned.

"Well, y' don' need t' be in charge all de time, cher." Scott sighed.

"Brat."

"Prick."

"So, we're back where we started how many months ago?" Scott said, brows raised. Remy snickered.

"Well, I weren't dinkin' about sleepin' next t' y' at de time. Oh, Ange is gonna ask y' about why y' stayed here. I tol' him it was t' get away from memories and dat I could crash somewhere else."

"Could?" Scott grinned. "Well, if he asks, we tell him the truth. I don't give a fuck what they think, Rem. You're ours remember?" He pulled on the collar. "And I really don't care how the rest of the team feels about it. I think they need to know, but I'm not putting my love life through a committee. And I want you to get some sleep." Scott sat up and kissed Gambit's palm. "I'll call you for lunch, okay?"

"Oui, cher. Got get 'em."



Scott made pancakes. Bobby stared at him in wonder. "My God. Jean trained you to cook. I'm impressed."

"Only some things. And according to certain people, I'm still not allowed to touch the coffee pot or the meat," he glared at Warren who smiled blandly at him. Betsy looked him up and down.

"Just tell me there's coffee made."

"It's in the pot. Bishop made it before he went off shift."

"Thank goodness," Betsy sighed and made herself a cup. "I have to put my vote in with Gambit, Bishop, and Warren. You are *not* allowed to touch the pot."

"It's not that bad. Jean and Logan drink it," he pointed out, without thinking.

"Yeah, but you're screwing them senseless," Betsy shot back, not falling into the silence that had descended on the rest of the part at the table. Scott grinned at her and sent a thought to her mind. She choked on her coffee. She fell into a coughing fit.

"Bloody hell. Warn me!"

"Where's the fun in that?" Scott asked in wonder.

//Did you really?// she asked. //Jean wouldn't tell me.//

//Hell yes.//

//I am not worthy, Master,// Betsy told him, eyes wide. //I want details.//

//Later.//

//Bet on it.// Scott smirked smugly at her. Warren glared at him.

"What have you done to my girlfriend?"

"Not a thing," Scott said. "Food?"

"Please. Make some up for Hank and I'll take it down to him. I don't think he's eaten yet today. He's preparing for casualties."

"Hopefully, there won't be any." Scott served up a plate for Warren and then the rest of the team that was gathering around the table. Storm settled in her chair. He looked at her for a second too long. "I need to talk to you later, Ro."

"Of course, Scott."

"Thank you. Pancakes?"

"Yes, please."

The group was startled out of their discussion when Remy barreled by and down to the med-lab. Scott looked startled. "Did I just see…"

"Yes," Storm answered. "Should I?"

"No, I'll go. I've already finished. Bobby, you get clean up."

"Ten-four, Scotty. Warren's still down there."

"Oh, shit." Scott sped out of the room. The enmity between the two men was growing legendary. He skidded to a stop beside a bewildered Warren who had just been thrown out of the lab. He was holding his plate protectively. "I'll find out what's going on. Go up and finish your breakfast."

"Okay. What is up with Gambit lately?"

"A lot more than you know," Scott said. He went into the lab. Hank was huddled in conference with Remy. The blue doctor nodded. He looked up.

"Yes, Slim?"

"What's going on?" he asked, looking at Remy.

"Just remembered somet'in' I need le docteur t' check on f' moi."

"And what would this be?" Scott asked as he stepped closer and stroked down the silky hair Gambit hadn't pulled back yet. Remy leaned into the touch.

"Don' want t' get y'r hopes up. In case it don't work."

"It's okay. It's not like anything else is working either." Remy leaned his head against Scott's hip as the man continued to pet him.

"Well, it seems t' me dat if le docteur put so many trackers in m' leg, dat mebbe dey work on different frequencies. Like one f' each lab or somet'in'. Even if dey don' I was dinkin' dat dey don' just broadcast all de time. Dey'd've been picked up by someone else before now. So what if dey respond t' a call. An' if so, we could backtrack it like a cell phone. Figure he don' know I told anyone 'bout what happened." Remy pressed closer. "An' after runnin' int' m' in Seattle he's probably watchin' now."

"That makes… After you broke up with Rogue?"

"Oui." Scott held him for a moment.

"We need to talk about secrets, Rem."

"Oui, Scotty," Gambit said softly. Scott fingered the earring Remy still wore and the thief shivered at the absentminded gesture. He felt a rush of sensation as the field leader continued to trace the shell of his ear.

"It's logical. Hank, can you let me have one of those trackers I know you haven't disabled yet?" Hank sighed and turned over one of the samples.

"An' why haven' y' destroyed dose dings yet?" Remy asked, frowning.

"I didn't want to alert Sinister before having a chance to examine them while they were still functional."

Scott grinned. "That's our resident mad scientist for you. Come, have some breakfast before you go to bed." Hank looked carefully at Gambit, but he saw no indication that he was tired.

"Oui, Scott," was all the Cajun replied.



Logan paced the length of the holding cell. He couldn't keep from growling almost constantly. The metal half-gloves wouldn't let him pop his claws, or bend his wrists. He could smell Jean, but he couldn't see her or hear her.

Scalphunter came with the oatmeal that was breakfast, as opposed to the rice cereal that had constituted dinner. The Marauder looked him up and down. Logan cursed his height. The man shoved the bowl through the slot. "How's the punk?" Logan looked at him in confusion. Scalphunter shook his head. "Gambit?" Logan blinked.

"Fine. Last time I saw him," Logan answered. He took the bowl up carefully.

"The bitch didn't do anything permanent? Got a message she passed through town with red on black eyes." Logan grimaced.

"That faded when he woke up. Why're ya so interested?"

"Vested interest." Scalphunter shrugged. "Enjoy your gruel." Wolverine shook his head. The kid chose the weirdest friends. Of course, the man *had* been his boss. Cyke would have asked too.



Angel watched in fascination as Storm and Gambit proceeded to have a complete conversation with eyes, shrugs and cocks of the head. Telepathy had nothing on that. Storm suddenly looked a question at Cyclops. The filed leader nodded before setting down a glass of orange juice in front of Gambit.

The thief poked suspiciously at the pancakes. He looked up at Scott. Then, he looked back down at the plate. Without a word, Cyclops took the fork from Gambit, cut off a bite and held it to the Cajun's lips with a challenging smile. Gambit obediently opened his mouth and chewed at the pancake. Scott set down the fork with a warning look.

Okay, Angel decided. The thief had *reason* to be suspicious of anything *Scott* cooked. But for Slim to be so forward was unusual. He wasn't sure what had caused the change. And he didn't think he liked how cozy the two were becoming. Gambit wasn't eating still. He was looking for a way to distract Scott. Scott was watching very carefully. Finally, he surrendered and ate breakfast for the first time in over two years.



Remy curled up for a few hours' rest between Scott scented sheets. He half-awoke when Scott sat next to him with a stack of files and a headache. The soothing stroked of Scott's fingers urged him into a deep sleep. They missed lunch, which prompted Storm to seek them out. "Scott?" she said quietly. "You have security duty."

"It's all ready noon? I'll be right there. Make sure he eats something."



Storm found Gambit in the Danger Room a few minutes later. He was working through an obstacle course of high wires and rafters. From the control room, she watched him get into his rhythm and start jumping form one to the next with ease. His mouth was a frown of concentration and she wondered what else he'd programmed in.

The first scrabble of metal legs made her eyes widen. Mechanical bugs swarmed along the floors and up the walls. She looked down at the read-out. "Laser grid active." So there were alarms, no unusual. She looked up when Bobby entered.

"I wondered who was in here." He glanced over the program specs. "He can see lasers?"

"Yes."

"Cool. Why isn't he just blasting them?"

"No powers on a job. It's against his principles. If you use your powers indiscriminately, you are too easy to track."

"He's gonna get caught on that wire. The bug's following him." Gambit flipped over it. The wire vibrated and the bug fell off. It was immediately attacked by the other bugs. Gambit leapt for a high hand-hold, twisting in mid-air when he sighted a bug. He caught on a level lower.



"Slim, what's going on between you and Gambit?" Angel asked.

"Jean, Logan, and I are screwing him." Warren laughed.

"No, seriously."

"I am being serious, Warren. We've brought him into the relationship."

"But he's…"

"If the words 'slut,' 'whore,' or 'guy' pass your lips, I'll hit you."

"Gambit! I can't believe you're doing *him*."

"Just because you don't like him, is no reason for me not to. Grow up, Wings. You don't like Logan either."

"I could understand sharing Jean with Logan, but…"

Scott shook his head. "You don't understand. Logan and I play with each other, just as much as with Jean." That stopped Warren's thoughts.

"I never saw you as gay."

"I'm bi, War. Always have been. I just wasn't interested in sex with one of those Barbie-doll girls you wanted me to like. I'm attracted to people not equipment."

"But even given that, Gambit?"

"As Jean put it, 'those eyes,' 'that hair,' 'the accent.'" Scott grinned. "But he isn't what you think of him. Even at his worst."

"He's a thief."

"So is Storm."

"He's disrespectful."

"He has his reasons. I understand that now."

"He sleeps around."

"No, he flirts. He plays, but he doesn't give it away. Not since he and Rogue got serious. Logan's nose if *very* handy. He gets wild every once and awhile, but he loved her more than he should have."

"And how are you planning to explain this to Rogue?"

"Rogue dumped him. He's fair game."

"Four at once?'

"Yes."

"I need some time."

"I thought you might."

"Who else knows?"

"Hank, Prof X, Ro."

"Bobby doesn't know?"

"No."

"Well, at least I made fourth on the list."



Gambit landed on his feet and braced for the alarm and lights. The spotlights were blinding and he had to shut his eyes against them. He cursed himself and went over the mistake in his head. "End sim," he called after a minute.

He cautiously opened an eye. Everything was washed out in a lingering red glow. He tried to blink it away and realized it would have to fade on its own. It should only take a few minutes, he told himself as he stretched to cool down.

"Why do you insist on punishing yourself for small mistakes?" Storm asked when he emerged from the locker room, ready to take over the security shift. He rolled his eyes.

"If dere ain't a punishment f' gettin' it wrong I don' learn. De lights remind m', but don' do not'in' permanent. Better'n goin' t' jail or gettin' a whippin' from Mattie."

"I have more questions, Gambit. May I join you on watch?"

"Of course, chere."



Logan tried the bars on the cage. But without his claws he couldn't break them. Scalphunter returned with dinner. "Where's Phoenix?"

"In Arizona," the Marauder replied. "Oh, the girl. She's with the doc. Just eat your dinner and shut up."

"What's he doin' to her?"

"Do I look like a fucking lab tech?" the merc demanded.

"Never know around here," Wolverine shot back.

"If you shut up, I'll get you a beer."



Hank emerged triumphantly. "Come, my Cajun lab rat, we have work to do." He physically picked the thief up from the couch, despite Scott's protests, and put him over his shoulder.

"Hey!" Remy snapped. "Put po' Remy down, Henri!"

"No." Gambit pouted as Hank settled him on the exam table. He fiddled with a few controls. Remy was starting to get nervous. Hank wrapped a modified blood pressure cuff around the young man's let. He squirmed.

"Y' sure 'bout dis, homme?"

"Completely. Just lie back and relax."

"Funny, M. Bete. Very funny."



"Scott, where is that list of sites Gambit and Storm created?" Scott handed it over to Hank. "Splendid." The doctor returned to his lab. Scott followed him. Remy was sitting with his knees drawn up. He didn't look up when they entered the room. Scott went to his side. He offered his arms and Remy curled up into the embrace, careful not to tangle the wires of Hank's invention. Scott held him firmly. He glared at Hank, who ignored him.

"This is science, Scott. It cannot be hurried." Scott brushed a kiss over Remy's hair. Gambit had settled in for the mind-numbing wait. He was trying his best not to let the room get to him. The strength of Scott's possessive protectiveness surprised him. He let the older man take his weight and closed his eyes. He eased the tension from Scott's headache. He was used to absorbing pain. Scott rested his cheek against the wild auburn bangs.

"Arizona!" Hank exclaimed. "The exact location, however, is still a mystery."

"I'll have Betsy tighten the scans."

"Dat all y' need?" Remy asked softly.

"Yes. Allow me to remove the cuff and you will be free to go on about your business."

"Merci," Remy murmured.



Logan knew he'd been heavily drugged. He could feel the last of the drug leaving his system. He couldn't move. His arms and legs were pinned down. He growled. Dispassionate red eyes studied him.

"While I do not understand Gambit's attempts at rational thought, I know that you will be a most useful specimen. If you do not fight, your woman will be returned unharmed. Do you understand?" Sinister asked.

Logan growled more fully. "I hear ya, bub," he snarled. "Ya hurt Red and I'll kill ya."

Sinister bared his rows of fangs in a cold smile. "Do not be so foolish as to threaten me, Wolverine." He fitted the muzzle over the man's head. He'd designed if for treating his more recalcitrant subjects. The Grey woman was still under sedation.



Remy kissed Scott almost feverishly. He needed to feel wanted. Scott carefully took control of the kiss, ignoring the application of the Cajun's "charm". He pressed Remy to the wall outside of the med-lab. "Y' be wit' Remy t'night?" Remy begged.

"Yes," Scott kissed him once more. "Hush. No more talking. Go up to your room, okay?" Remy nodded, adrenaline begging to leave his limbs. Scott tracked down Betsy. "Psylocke, scan Arizona specifically for any trace of them. Then, check the records for any recent crimes."

"Certainly, but…"

"I'll explain after we get confirmation of the results."

"Very well." She leaned forward and ran a hand down his cheek. //Go fuck him through the mattress.//

//Betsy!// She winked.

//Give him a kiss for me.// Scott flushed as red as his glasses at the accompanying picture. //It'll do you both good.//



Bobby Drake, king of the pranksters, knew he should feel guilty for playing "Quake" on Scott's computer. He knew he should feel even guiltier for reading his private reports. But, truth was, he didn't. There wasn't one speck of guilt in his head. That's why he knew before anyone else that Gambit was sleeping with the Summers trio. That's why he knew about Gambit's connection to Sinister.

So, when he opened the file labeled Gambit, he was expecting something a little less clinical than the usual team member profiles. What he found shocked him.

"Remy Etienne LeBeau. Codename: Gambit Age: Unknown Family: Father Jean-Luc (adoptive), Wife Belladonna Boudreaux. Weaknesses: Fond of children. Prone to rash action. No regard for personal safety. Possible death wish."

That was all the file contained. Bobby blinked. He must have missed something. The file must be located elsewhere. He started to search the computer.



Gambit was waiting patiently for Scott. He sat on the edge of the bed, stripped to just his faded and torn jeans. He looked up through his bangs when Cyclops came in. Scott shut the door carefully. He turned to his lover and was hit by the wave of needy lust. He caught Gambit's mouth in a rough kiss, very different from the tenderness he'd been feeling most of the day.

He looked Remy firmly in the eyes. He knew his eyes were glowing because he could feel the pressure building behind his glasses. "I will *not* loose you too. Is that understood? I don't care if I have to lock you up. You will be staying here when we go after them."

"Non! I'm comin'," Remy snapped back. "Y' de one Sinny been watchin' since he was a pup!"

"And until Hank makes a portable jammer for those tracers, you'll be a liability fighting the Marauders. You will stay here with Charles. He's vulnerable when he's providing a communications net." Scott kissed the Cajun again.

"Dat's like tellin' Jubilee t' guard de Mansion," Remy panted when his lips were released.

"He's the closest thing I have to a father. You will watch him for me, won't you?" he asked, with a sweet kiss. "He can't read you, so you won't be a distraction. Besides, who else will be able to break in and save our asses if we get caught?" He added one more kiss for good measure.

"Okay. Point t' y'. Remy'll be good." Scott kissed him once more, then caress his cock through his jeans. Gambit's hips rose. His fingers tangled in Scott's hair and pulled him into a hungry kiss. "Don' y' dare get hurt," Remy warned. "Or lose m' Stormy in de lab. She don' do so well in does places." Scott sucked at "his" spot until he drew a sharp whimper. "Oh, Saints! Scotty please." Remy squirmed.

Scott's mouth kissed each rib carefully. Remy whimpered at each touch. "Damn you're responsive," Scott whispered. "I like it." The muscles of Remy's stomach trembled. Remy's clever fingers stroked through Scott's shock of brown hair. Scott's mouth moved back up to fasten over Remy's once more. Gambit's lips opened eagerly.

"Please, cher. More," Remy begged. He pulled as Scott's belt, sliding it free. Scott grinned.

"Impatient."

"Tres. T'encule moi," Remy demanded.

"I don't speak French, Sweets. Tell me what you want."

"Dieu," Remy murmured eyes nearly full black. He tugged at Scott's shirt.

"Tell me," Cyclops ordered, steel in his voice, as he pulled off the Cajun's faded jeans.

"I want y' t' fuck m', cher. Make m' y'rs. I need t' feel y' in m'. Need t' know y're real and hard and hot. Need t' be filled and held. Need y'r cock buried so deep dat I can' hide away from it or pretend y' ain't dere. Need t' feel y' fingers on m' skin. Need t' make dis ache disappear f' a lil bit. Warm me, cher. Own m'." Scott caught his mouth once more. He'd stripped off the rest of his clothes.

"Drawer?" he questioned. Remy nodded as he was pressed down against the clean silk sheets. Scott found the lube easily. "And I'm accused of being a neat freak," he murmured. He lapped along Remy's collarbone, tasting the sweet sweat. He settled his mouth firmly over Remy's, swallowing the whimper of need when he stroked along the edge of the tight sphincter with the cool gel. He deepened the kiss and pressed for entrance. He captured the sob as Remy fucked himself on the questing fingertip.

He settled himself between Remy's legs, the knees spread wide for him. He pushed in slowly. "More, sil vous plait, cher," Remy begged. "Deeper." Scott took his time, imprinted every cry on his memory, just in case. When words failed, Remy opened a link and gave back every inching motion with the desperate need to relieve fear with sensation, to loose emotion through physical contact, to cherish and hold fast to loving memories. Scott nearly wept at the combination of emotion and the sensation of being filled and filling at the same time. He slowed down to savor it more.

Remy's fingers clutched at Scott's shoulders. He tilted his hips for more contact. Scott wet a finger and drew it over one sensitized nipple. Scott couldn't help but notice the helpless shudder. Logan was never this passive. Remy's fingers traced over the muscles of Scott's chest and over the fine scars that occasionally ran against them. Just as he was fully seated, Remy's eyes closed. He bit his lip as he adjusted to the feeling of the thickness fully in him.

The low moan tingled along Scott's nerve endings. "Sil vous plait," Remy whispered. "Move."

"Soon," Scott soothed. He stroked the trembling thighs. Remy's cock was hard and leaking. Scott stroked it once and Remy's hips bucked, seeking more stimulation.

"Bon Dieu. Y' gonna drive m' insane, cher. Move." Scott pulled out most of the way, then slammed home. Starbursts of pleasure flashed behind Remy's lowered lids and through the link. Scott set an almost painfully slow pace at first. Gradually, he sped up. He lost himself in dual sensations and heat. He thrust more harshly. The heat and grip was too much and Scott came, holding tightly to Remy's body as the empath let himself be dragged along. The spasms of his body milked the last of Scott's cum from him.

Scott pushed back the damp bangs and watched Remy's dazed eyes gradually come aware again as they stared up at him adoringly. "Merci," Gambit whispered. He sighed in satisfaction as Scott's mouth slanted over his for a deep kiss. Scott bit the Cajun's bruised lips, drawing a small drop of blood. "Gonna have t' change de sheets again." Scott laughed. He cleaned them up and settled down for the night.

"I'll have Hank and Betsy with you as back up."

"Won' y' need Bets t' scan?"

"Not with the professor."

"Y' dink y' can find de place or do y' need more direction? Ain' never been t' dat lab," Remy added worried.

"We'll find it. We'll get them back."

"Oui, cher. Dat we will."



The first thing Jean realized was that she ached. It was as if she'd just had a day long Danger Room session. There wasn't one muscle that didn't hurt. Next, she felt the coolness of metal beneath her cheek. Then, she heard her name being called urgently. //Jean! Jean!//

She tried to respond but couldn't call out. I'm here, she thought weakly. Charles, help me.

//Jean. I am here. The others are en route. Is Logan there?//

//I just woke up.// She was so glad of the link he'd created that she nearly wept. //Let me look.// "Wolverine?" she croaked with a raw throat.

"I'm here, Darlin'," his welcome voice replied. It was muffled, like he was talking through a wall. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she realized that he *was* talking through a wall.

//Jean?//

//He's here.//

//Good.//



Betsy found Gambit on the back porch smoking. "Gambit, Professor X has found Phoenix. Wolverine is alive too."

"Merci, Dieu. When dey be home?"

"We're not *that* far along yet. The team still has to get in. Cyclops wants you as part of the team-link to help Storm with security. The professor wants you in his office."

Gambit tossed his cigarette into the air where it burned up with a sharp flare. He followed her into the professor's office. He settled into one of the visitor's chairs. He pushed his shades up onto the top of his head. Xavier nodded in welcome, his attention on the link. He turned his attention to the waiting thief. Gambit was as still as stone. His eyes were cold.

Xavier knocked politely at the young man's shields, and they parted to allow a shallow communication link. The brief attempt to go deeper was met with sharp resistance. //I'm here,// Gambit stated to the team. There was a brief acknowledgment from Scott and one from Storm. Then, it returned to the silence of the pre-battle team.

//Knock. Knock.// Bobby threw out.

//Who is there?// some imp of humor prompted Storm to actually answer.

// Bett Shaw.//

//Bett Shaw who?//

//Betshaw we're gonna win.//

The was a mental groan shared by most of the team.



"Wolvie? Are you okay?"

"I'll live, Red. Ya hurt?"

"I ache like… like a mother-fucker with a taffy machine's been working at my muscles," she stated. The wording stopped Logan completely. Jean *did not* curse. Ever. Not even through telepathic contacts. "But I'll live. I just want to be home right now. Where the Hell are we?"

"Sinister's labs."

"Oh, fuck." Logan raised a brow. "And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you," she added before he could call her on the language.



//Storm. Give us cover.// The weather witch closed her eyes and reached. There! The sandstorm was already lurking. She pushed it to full bloom. The animals scattered to their burrows. There were no humans in this area to worry about. The think sands confused the alarm's sensors. Inside the base, Vertigo groaned as the alarms went wild.

"Sandstorm alert," she said into the general loudspeaker. "It's here. Alarms will be off-line for the duration. Full alert. Repeat full alert."

"Looks like it's you, me, and the X-punks, V. The others are gonna be stuck in town," Arclight told her.

"Shit. Where's the boss?"

"New York. Something about checking on his investments."

"Fuck. *I* wanted to visit Remy," she pouted. "Oh well. Want to go play with Wolverine?"

"Meet you there," Arclight laughed.

//Jean, I'm joining you to the team-link,// Xavier informed her.

//Status, Phoenix,// Cyclops stated.

//Lab guards are on full alert. Alarms are off-line due to the sandstorm. Phoenix and Wolverine are mostly unharmed. Remove the suppression equipment and they can fight. Alert, Arclight and Vertigo are in the cell area.//

//Understood. Storm, get us in.//

//Gambit?//

//Still here, chere.//

//Green or blue?//

//Blue to override.//

//Thank you.// Storm over-road the doors and the team was in.

"Widdle Wolverine fall down," Vertigo giggled. Arclight secured his wrists to the tether and he snarled at her from behind the muzzle he still wore. She laughed at him and pulled out her knife. "Ooh, that shined up well," Vertigo commented, leaning against the wall.

//Am I the only one thinking this is far too simple?// Angel asked.

//No,// Cyclops answered him.

//Arclight's doing something to Wolverine.// Phoenix warned.

//Professor, which way?// Xavier directed them through the base.

//This place is deserted,// Iceman concluded as they moved cautiously through the dark halls.

//Don't get cocky,// Cyclops warned. They rounded the corner to the main lab, which was silent except for the steady beep from one of the computers. Iceman checked the screen.

//This is the school!// Cyclops nodded.

//He's been watching. That's why it was a smooth snatch and run.// They moved on to the holding cells. Cyclops took out Vertigo with a blast that knocked her into the wall. Arclight looked up and dodged the blast aimed at her. Wolverine shouted a warning as she dove for Iceman. Iceman dodged the woman, coming up to his feet behind her. The sharp scent of ozone accompanied the lightening bolt that killed her. Cyclops glared at Storm. //No killing.// Storm ignored him as she picked the lock on Jean's cell. They didn't bother to try to release either team member from their suppressing bonds. They just loaded up onto the plane and left.

//I will see you after landing.// Xavier closed down the net and leaned back. Gambit sat calmly watching him with no word. "You will need to remove the bonds for them."

"Oui, M.," the Cajun said politely. Xavier waved a hand in dismissal. He saw a flash of anger in the thief's eyes, but disregarded it as being directed elsewhere.



Remy hadn't realized he was asleep until he looked up from the letter he was writing and saw Sinister waiting patiently at the door. He glanced around and found he wasn't in his room. He stood and opened the parlor door to allow the scientist into his mind. //Bonjour, Remy.//

//M. Essex. Would you like something to drink?//

//No, thank you.//

//Please have a seat.// Sinister chose the leather armchair as usual. Remy settled into the red velvet couch. //And what can I do for you?//

//Rather more blunt than you used to be. Good. Your outer shields are deplorable, Son. There are cracks everywhere.//

//I will work on repairs. Thank you for the warning.//

//I've returned your lovers to you. You should have informed me of the change.//

//The situation is still unresolved?//

//A pity. How is your leg?//

//Still functional. But it will never be the same as it was before.//

//And the gating mechanism?//

//Effective.//

//We will have to return you to full powers shortly.//

//Non. We will not.//

//Do not argue with me, Boy. As your doctor I will do as I deem necessary.//

//That is not a necessary step. I am quite comfortable with my current level of power. Please leave it be.//

//I will not.// Sinister looked disapprovingly at him. //Do not allow that misguided fool to convince you that remaining crippled is best. Your potential is so much greater, my boy. Your lovers are returning. We will speak again.// Sinister blinked out of existence. Remy cursed. He locked the door and added an additional bolt with a thought.



Bobby shook Gambit's shoulder, jumping away from the automatic swing. "Sorry."

"Not a problem. Hank needs your help with Wolvie." Gambit raised a brown and followed the blond downstairs. He saw the muzzle and grimaced. His fingers found the catches easily and it swung free. He undid the wrist restraints, nimbly avoiding the claws that popped free.

"Sorry, Darlin'." Logan pulled them in, with a bit of effort. Remy shrugged and handed the restraints to Hank. Logan caught the thief around his waist and hugged him, pressing his forehead to Remy's chest to scent him. Gambit stroked his head gently, projecting as much affection and relief as he could. "I missed ya." Remy was startled when he was pulled into a deep kiss. Time seemed to stand still as surprise registered around the room. "Thanks, Gumbo," Logan said, ignoring the reactions. "Come here, Red." He kissed Jean thoroughly, keeping and arm around Gambit's waist.

Betsy fanned herself. //Is it hot in here, or is it just me?// she asked Jean.

//You ain't seen nothin' yet." Jean turned and caught Remy with a possessive kiss as Logan was welcomed back by Scott.

//Oh, sweet Jesus,// Betsy whimpered. //That will fuel fantasies for years. Why do you even bother to get out of bed?//

//For food.//

"While we're making statements," Scott grinned. He winked at Gambit – a brief flash of red against his visor. "I told you we would get them back."

"Oh, y'r havin' memory problems den. Seems t' m' dat was de ot'er way around."

//The other reason,// Jean informed Betsy. //Men.// Bobby grinned at the group.

"We sorta already guessed, Fearless," he informed them. "Not even Blue was clueless this time." Bishop shook his head and wandered away from the group to talk with the professor.

"But this means that Storm wins the pool about when you would go public. And we can't even claim that Gambit put the fix in," Warren whined. "Damn. There goes thirty bucks." He shook his head. "I still don’t get it though."

//Mind-numbing sex,// Betsy explained to him privately. There was no need for a debriefing. And Xavier didn't trust the security at the boathouse. //Betsy, will you fetch Scott and Jean's things so that they can stay here for the night?//

//Of course.//

Logan and Scott used Logan's shower, while Jean opted for Remy's. "She's jus' usin' m' f' de detangler," Remy sniffed in mock hurt to Storm. She gave him a small smile. There were still many things they needed to work out, but there was time enough for that.



Gambit flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes. He checked his shields carefully, sealing the cracks in each layer. Jean settled on the bed next to him. She stroked the bristles on his chin. He startled back to awareness. "Sorry, Sweetie," Jean purred.

"Y' hurtin'?"

"A little," Jean admitted. "No, you will *not* absorb it. You've already taken in too much of that. Don't try it again until we work on purging some of it," she ordered.

"Oui, mere." He rolled his eyes.

"I mean it."

"I hear y', chere." She kissed him sweetly.



Logan's left hand tangled in Scott's hair, while he kept his balance with the other pressed against slick tiles. Scott stilled as Slogan's hips thrust deep into the safe haven of his mouth. Scott's hands gripped the edge of the bathtub and the built in soapdish, to keep himself steady. Logan tensed and shot into the moist, hot mouth. Scott sucked him dry. He licked the last of the liquid off of his lips.

Logan groaned as his cock decided he liked that look on Slim's face. He also liked the red cock that jutted out from his lover's groin. He lifted Scott to his feet. He stroked the hardness once, then twice and then stopped. He kissed Scott, the grip forcing Scott to lean against his bulk. "Do ya trust me, Slim?"

"Yes."

"Good." He turned off the water and carefully rubbed his partner down, trailing brief touches down his cock randomly. He tied the belt of his robe around Scott's eyes as a make-shift blindfold. Scott frowned. He wasn't *that* familiar with Logan's room. Logan pressed a finger to his lips. "Stay," he ordered, palming Scott's erection briefly. Scott nodded, chewing at his lip. He shivered as the cool air from Logan's room hit him.

Then, Logan was back. The Canadian guided Scott's hands behind his back and crossed his wrists. He fastened them there and before Scott could react, engulfed his cock with one swift move. Scott twisted in the grip wanting to hold Logan's head, feel his hair. He moaned as Logan started the maddening patter of suction that was his alone. He came with a cry when he felt Logan's throat convulse around his tip. Logan grinned and carried Scott to the bed. Scott hated being that disoriented. He struggled when Logan set him down. Frustratingly, the simple restraint worked. What the hell was it? He investigated it with his fingers as well as he could. Logan snickered. "It's a tie, Scott."

"One of those damn boleros?"

"Yep."

"I promise not to disrespect them again, as long as you untie me."

"Jeannie wants to see first." And Jeannie did see. She watched silently from the chair by the window where she'd curled up on Remy's lap while the boys were still, ahem, showering. And they accused *her* of primping.

"Oh, no." Scott shook his head. "Logan, you know what she gets like in one of those moods."

"Yep. Yer in fer a real treat."

"Logan! What happened to I'll take care of you and watch your back?" Scott asked.

"Don't whine, Slim," Jean said and he stiffened.

"Hi, Red," he said with a smile.

"I get to watch," she purred. "Logan's got something he needs some help with." She winked at the Canadian. Logan smirked and stroked Scott's cheek gently. He kissed him carefully.

//Now, remember. We're going to see how you absorb feelings.//

//Only *you* would turn dis int' trainin',// Remy grumbled. //Dey look good t'gether.//

//They definitely do.//

"Ya gonna be okay with this, Babe?" Logan asked gently. "Say the word and it's over." Scott shook his head.

"I’m okay. I'm just not used to not being able to touch you when I can't see you. Jean's got a dirty mind you know?"

"I've noticed. Just relax and let me do the hard work." Logan kissed him again, not letting up until Scott was moaning into Logan's mouth. His cock was hard again.

//No, you may *not* project. Don't link them.// Remy buried his head against her breast. She stroked his hair. She could feel his cock throbbing inside his jeans.

Logan had positioned Scott face-down on the bed, a pillow under his hips. A butterfly of doubt sailed through Scott's stomach. "Sh, Babe. It's just me." Logan stroked down the captured arms. "Yer safe. Just let go." The fear eased and Scott relaxed into Logan's touch.

Logan was harder than he'd been in a long time. He wanted to be buried deep in Scott's ass, but he waited and soothed. Scott was disoriented by quick moves. Logan stroked and stretched and lubed until Scott was begging breathlessly for contact and fucking himself of Logan's fingers. With an almost feral grin, Logan pushed past the inner ring. He held Scott's hips with one arm and stroked his straining cock with the other. Scott's hips rocked back and forth between the stimulants, not caring about anything else.

Hot and tight and clutching, Scott's body wrapped around Logan's cock. Logan thrust almost recklessly into the younger man's body. He set his teeth to the back of Scott's neck and bit. That stimulus drove Scott out of control and he came in Logan's fist. His body clenched hard around Logan's cock. Logan shuddered and came. He sagged against Scott's back and closed his eyes.

Jean wiped the blood from Remy's lip with a finger. He'd bitten through it, trying to stay quiet. His eyes were hazy with pleasure. She knew he'd come. She hadn't let him share the sensation with her. She kissed him and felt a hand slide between her legs. Deft fingers stroked her clit and slid into and out of her slit. She sucked on his tongue and his fingers continued to work in and out and around in tiny circles until she was panting against his lips. He pressed hard against her clit. There was a tingling sensation that Jean was too blissful to question. She stiffened in his arms, riding high, her hips pumping frantically as his fingers continued to fuck her. She climaxed and rested against his shoulder.

//Where did you learn *that?*// she demanded.

//M' wife.//

//Remind me to send her flowers.//

//?//

//For training you so well.//

Logan watched them with twinkling blue eyes. "Bring her here and get ready fer bed. Yer over-dressed, Darlin'."

"Stop wit' de darlin's." Remy mock-growled as he laid Jean down on the bed.

"Not a chance, Darlin'. I like seein' ya get flustered."

"You both talk too much," Scott informed them. Jean settled back with a satisfied smile between Scott and Logan. As Remy settled next to Logan, Scott reached out a hand. Remy took it briefly and squeezed. Jean turned out the lights and drew the curtains tight.



FINIS