Title: That Healing Touch

Author: eoen

Pairing: Logan/Scott/Remy/Jean

Rating: NC-17

Summary: PWP Hank gives the group his results. Some angst. No plot whatsoever.

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

Email: wedschild@mail.com

Series/Sequel: Yup. Number 4, follows: "Two's Company, Four's…", "Wild", and "Think It"

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

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.

Warnings: Slash. Foursome. Don't try this without gymnastic training and a hell of a lot of trust….



That Healing Touch
by Eoen


"Ah, M. LeBeau, just the man I was looking for," Hank said cheerfully. He raised a brow at the bruises on Gambit's throat, but didn't comment on them. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me to my office after our noon-time repast?"

"Oui, Henri. Dere's somet'in' more y' need?"

"I just want to discuss the results with you," Hank reassured.



Hank wasn't surprised that Logan accompanied them. He had after all, been the instigator of the event. He was surprised that Scott invited himself along, then realized that he shouldn't be. Scott had a habit of poking his nose into everyone's business and he'd always been fascinated by the Cajun's secrets. Remy didn't protest, which was odd. Hank let it go. Hank's office was too small to fit all four of tem comfortably, so, much to Gambit's dismay, they moved into the main lab.

Scott let the thief snuggle into his lap. Hank suppressed a snicker. "Y' keep Drac away from m'," Remy told him. Scott grinned. He patted Remy's knee.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you." Hank smiled to himself. "Hank, let's get this over with."

"Very well, Fearless Leader. Remy, your bloodwork is clean."

"Merci, Dieu."

"Indeed. Your X-rays are most interesting. Your bone structure is non-standard, as are your muscle groupings. You have extra vertebra in your spine. Also, your bones are hollow, much as Warren's should be, which contributes to your agility. There are nearly thirty pins in you leg and hip. What happened?"

"Roofin' timber fell on m'." Scott winced. Hank nodded and drew a finger along the air, visualizing the body.

"That would explain the break in your collar bone as well. Now, as for the trackers Sinister placed in your body." Remy tensed, but Scott wrapped his arms around him and Logan stroked his back. "I can remove three of them, but there are several imbedded in the pins and the only way to remove them would be to re-break your leg, which I refuse to do."

"Y' take out de ot'er's dough?"

"Yes. One last detail. The brain surgery. I am loath to remove the implant without…"

"Non! Dat stays. It's de only ding I ever wanted from Essex!"

"What is its function?" Hank sat forward.

"Merde. Okay. It dampens m' powers t' alpha level."

"You're an Omega?" Hank interrupted.

"Oui. Still tip de scale every once an' awhile. De implant acts like a gate, non? It don' let m' int' certain areas of m' brain. If I push it, it makes static in m' head so I can' concentrate." Gambit shrugged unable to explain it better. "Essex says it ain't permanent. He be willin' t' reverse it at any time. More like he want t' reverse it. Make ole Gambit more useful," he added bitterly.

"More useful?" Hank asked gently. Remy tightened his grip on Scott.

"Can kill wit' a glance or hold de world hostage. Jump between worlds even. Don't want none of it! Never did. Didn't do a damn bit of good about m' charm, dough. Don' want dat neither." Hank smiled comfortingly.

"If you will allow me to examine the device…"

"Non," Remy said flatly. "Dat all?"

"I would like your permission to run your DNA against what we have in our databank."

"Fine. Y' leave m' alone dough. No more tests." Hank sighed.

"I will remove the trackers that I can access. That is all."

"Bien."



"Logan?" a voice called from the library.

"Hey, Red." Jean looked up from her work. She was writing a new counter-lobby to the FOH's latest campaign. "What's up?"

"I want to talk to you about Remy." Logan sighed and pulled up a seat.

"So talk."

"Why won't he trust me?"

"Yer a spook, Jeannie. Kid can't stand people in his head. He don't get along with Bets either. 'Cept fer sparrin'," he added.

"But he's willing to sleep with me?" she said.

Logan snorted. "Kid'd probably sleep with Magneto. Trust ain't a part of sex fer him. He let ya scan him. That's more'n he's ever let Chuck do. Yer gonna have to work fer his trust, Jeannie. He knows when yer lyin' to him. He trusts yer word, Darlin' and that's a start. He believes in honor, Red. He's told us more in three days than he's told us in six months." Logan popped his claws. "Ya hurt him, and I'll hurt ya back. Eye fer an eye. Heart fer a heart." Jean stared at him. She ignored the threat.

"Why can't I get a handle on him?"

"Yer relyin' on yer powers, Red. Slim and I ain't. He's the only person in the house other'n Chuck ya can't read. Yer gettin' lazy," he told her.



"What's wrong, Hank?" Scott asked sharply.

"This is the first time anyone's given him a painkiller *before* cutting him open."

"Yeah? Are you really surprised? His last doctor was Sinister."

"I would have though that his family would have taken…"

"His powers go haywire under most drugs right?"

"Yes, and when he's in pain, though not as often. Full anesthesia is impossible unless I suppress his powers. But a mild sedative combined with a topical anesthetic…"

"Would mean taking the boy to a hospital where they would ask pesky questions about their relationship to him. Social services would investigate. No, that would have been too dangerous. Is he okay?"

"I think he is hurting more than he is willing to tell me. And he is quite anxious to go back to his own room. He will heal with minimal scarring. He is going to ache for awhile. The trackers were lodged under muscle."

"So he doesn't have to stay overnight?"

"No. He's free to go as soon as he finishes dressing. Should I call Wolverine do you think?"

"No, thanks. I'll take care of him." Hank's brows skyrocketed.

"So the earring is an 'S' then? And are you responsible for the bruising as well?"

"Only one. And the earring was Jean's idea," Scott said modestly.

"Three lovers? Scott, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm feeling a lot better than just all right." Scott's smile made the doctor chuckle.

"Go take care of the Cajun then. I'm assuming you will make a general announcement of this new state of affairs at the briefing tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. There's more than just sleeping arrangements to discuss and I need to think about how to word things. Thanks, Hank. I'll see you at dinner." Hank watched Scott run his fingers along Remy's temple. The thief turned into the touch. The doctor smiled.

"Good luck, my friends. Good luck."



Jean settled on Remy's bed. //Go 'way,// he thought at her.

//No.// She stroked his hair. She loved the silky texture. He snuggled deeper into the pillows. She massaged his scalp with the tips of her fingers. He arced up. She coaxed his head onto her lap and stroked his jaw and cheeks. The bones were high and delicate as much as they were sharp and defined. She looked at him, truly looked. He's young, she thought in surprise. The bristles on his cheeks helped to hide that fact, much as the bangs helped distract from his eyes. She wanted his lashes. Hell, she knew women went green for his hair, but his lashes were long and full in a way that no make-up could reproduce.

She traced over the faint track of a scar that ran into his hair-line. His skin was smooth and she adored its softness. She ghosted a TK kiss over his lips and he lifted his face to it. His eyes blinked open. He smiled up at her. Se brushed her fingers over his mouth and he nipped at the pad of her index finger. //And I thought Logan was the one I needed to tame.//

"Logan says dat's Fearless."

"We did tame him to touch. It took a lot of work, but you see what he's like now. I'd say we were successful." He shifted as the painkiller wore off. His shoulder ached. His back ached. His thigh ached. He rubbed at his thigh absently. The little bell jangled and Jean giggled. She pulled his wrist up for closer inspection. She read the tag and grinned. "I guess this means I should call Scott and Logan," she said flicking at the little silver fish. He shook his head with a bright grin.

"Just got dem t' quit fussin'."

"Maybe you need someone to pamper you, Sweetie." She tweaked his nose. He sat up and stretched, twisting his spine to relieve the muscle ache. Jean wrapped him in a gentle embrace and e nestled against her. He tried sorting out her emotions. There was love, he was surprised to note, and lust, and regret, and chagrin, and happiness. His touch felt like cotton candy against her shields. Jean blinked. Her mouth formed an "o" of surprise. "Warm fuzzies actually feel like warm fuzzies?" she asked him.

"Oui." He grinned at her. She realized that her shields were completely wrong for controlling her emotional projections. "Dey feel like …" He concentrated and projected "contentment." She tightened her hold and kissed his temple.

"We both have things to learn. And we still have to get that poison out of your head."

"Jean," he warned.

"It's dangerous," she continued. "I'm not going to let it lurk in there ruining things. And you won't hurt anyone if you let it out a little at a time. No more than the charge you use to light your cigarettes, which you should quit smoking by the way."

"Jeannie!" He scowled up at her, but it lacked heat. She stroked his throat.

"Let me try to help you. Maybe if I'd noticed sooner…"

"Chere," he said quietly, "le professeur don' even know what goes on in m' head." He grinned. "Even M. Essex jus' taught m' t' shield. He weren't too keen on de 'emotional and irrational tenor' of m' memories. He don' understand," he added softly. "He can' feel like dat no more, so he don' understand. Dinks Remy's irrational."

"Remy often is, but that's more a matter of age than anything." He was settled between her legs, held close to her body. His cheek rested on her chest. She found herself rocking him. "I *do* love you, Remy," she told him. "Just as much as I love Scott or Logan. We can make this work. Give us a chance."

"No promises, chere. No promises. Couldn' handle another break up."

"Oh, sweetie." She closed her eyes and pushed all her love at him.

"Merci," he whispered. "Dat's a beautiful gift."



Scott stared blankly at the report page. There *was* nothing to report. So why was he sitting there? He could review the information Gambit had gotten for him. Or he could go looking for Logan. What a choice. Maybe he should flip a coin. He debated. Then, Logan walked into Scott's office and shut the door.

He stalked across the room, spun Scott's chair to face him and kissed him. Scott was stunned for a moment, then opened his mouth to the questing tongue. Logan delved deep into his lover's mouth, enjoying the tang of autumn and cinnamon that he labeled "Scott." Scott's head tipped back with minimal prompting. His hands were pinned to the arms of the chair. He didn't care. Logan always tasted so good.

Slowly, Logan pulled back. A small whimper of protest came from Scott's throat. Logan grinned. "Missed ya." Scott snorted.

"I have work to do, Logan."

"Wouldn't ya rather get worked up by me?" More than the words, or the voice, the leer made Scott tremble. He liked his lips.

"Yeah, but. . ."

"No buts, Slim." Logan's mouth closed over Scott's once more. Cyclops warred with the idea of packing it in, even though he'd been leaning heavily towards the "find Logan" direction anyway. Then, Logan's hands rubbed roughly up and down his arms in an off-hand gesture of comfort and duty lost. Scott's fingers danced up Logan's arms to settled on his wide shoulders.

Scott's tongue began to fight for more control of the kiss. He was rewarded by Logan's hand in his hair, pinning his head in place. The sharp nip to his tongue made him jump. "Yer mine," Logan informed him. Scott nodded. Logan's fingers were deftly opening the fly of his jeans. They caressed his already aching member. Logan snickered. "Damn yer easy." Scott glared at him.

"Just get on with it."

"Yer the boss."

"Don't forget that." Logan swallowed him in one quick move and Scott's body tensed. "Oh, God," he murmured. His fingers stroked through the short brown hair and caressed Logan's temples as Logan's tongue ran along the underside of his cock. Logan pulled back.

"Better do somethin' about yer hands." Scott blinked. Logan's palm settled soothingly over the stiff cock. Scott chewed at his lip.

"What do you mean?" he managed. Logan grinned.

"Hands behind yer back, Babe."

"What?"

"Just trust me." Scott rolled his eyes, but shifted so his hands were comfortably behind him. Logan's broad hand against his stomach pinned them there. Logan returned to his task, lapping gently at Scott's erection. He suckled each ball in turn and Scott's head fell back against the chair. His hips rose after more of that sensation. Logan sucked him down once more and Scott groaned. He pressed his tongue to the slit and Scott bit back a scream.

"Logan," he moaned. "I can't..." Logan's suction increased and Scott lost his words. Logan loved the wordless, pleading sounds. Scott wanted to bury his hands in Logan's hair and hold him to his task as the older man pulled back to watch Scott's face. Scott writhed against the solid hand that restricted his movement. "Please, Logan," Scott begged. Logan's mouth descended once again and Scott came. Logan swallowed down the semen and licked his lover clean. Scott's eyes closed as his pulse rate and breathing returned to normal. He could taste himself in Logan's kiss. Logan's hand settled on Scott's chest, keeping his arms pinned.

Scott frowned at him. Logan kissed him one last time. "See ya later, Slim. Get back to work." Scott opened his mouth to protest, but Logan was already gone.



"Yes, Jean. Come in. The letter is a masterpiece." She smiled. She was still the teacher's pet after all these years. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"Remy."

"Haven't you apologized for whatever you said about Rogue yet?"

"No, I already apologized."

"You aren't sure you want another lover?"

"No. I love him. So do the boys."

"Then, what is the matter? He doesn't love you?"

"I'm not sure if it's love or not, but that will grown in time. He's an empath, sir."

Xavier scowled. "And how long have you known about this, Young Lady?"

"About 48 hours. He has ghosts in his head, Professor. He thinks that if he lets out the pain he's absorbed that he's going to hurt someone."

"If you can convince him to allow me to scan him, I'm sure we could channel the 'ghosts' appropriately." Jean laughed.

"No, sir. That won't happen in this lifetime. Just tell me what I need to know."

"Empaths are rare," he informed her. "Normally they barely register as psi's. Are you sure that his talents are strong enough to require training?" She smiled at him.

"Quite sure."

"Then I will make arrangements to train him."

"You won't get past the first layer of his shields," she told him. "Either tell me what needs to be done or we'll wing it."

Charles Xavier's mouth tightened. "Fine." //Let me in, Jean. I'll show you what you need to know.//



Logan grinned to himself as Gambit curled up into a tighter ball to sleep. At Logan's approach, one wary red eye peered out from behind the curtain of russet hair. Wolverine carefully settled on the bed and spooned against Remy's back. He reveled in the tightness of the fit. His cock twitched at the thought of how Remy would feel wrapped around it. He cradled the thief in his arms.

Remy relaxed into Logan's arms, practically purring with pleasure. Logan always made him feel protected. He could feel the warmth of Logan's erection through the pajama's he'd put on to sleep away the sedative. Logan's hands were gently holding him. "Go to sleep, Darlin'. I'll watch over ya."

Logan breathed in the familiar scents of Remy and the lingering scents of Jean. His cock twitched and he willed it to stop, even as Remy undulated back against him. "Somethin' y' need help wit', cher?" Remy asked.

"Nothin' that won't keep till later."

"Doncha want m'?" Hurt colored the tone and Logan wasn't sure if it was real. He tightened his grip.

"Course I want ya. But yer tired. It'll keep."

"Right, cher," Remy drawled. Logan's hand had drifted down to cup the semi-erect flesh at Remy's groin. Remy bucked into it. "Ooooh, cher, Remy likes dat."

"Does he? I couldn't have guessed." Logan inhaled the scent of lust deeply. "How ya feelin'?"

"Horny."

"Ya know what I mean," Logan growled into the back of the boy's neck.

"Dey ache, but dat ain' bad. Tired. Don' like whatever M. Bete gave m'. Makes m' feel fuzzy." Remy lifted Logan's hand to his mouth and placed a wet kiss in the center of it. "Merci, cher."

"Yer welcome, Darlin'," Logan said softly, not sure what Remy was talking about. "Get some sleep, Rem." Logan closed his eyes. He smiled when something sweet and light enveloped his mind. "Love you too, Gumbo."



Remy woke alone and glanced at the clock. It was past dinner time. His stomach protested. He decided he'd have to find something to satisfy it. Then he could make Scott feel guilty for not making sure he was fed. Yes, that sounded like a plan. He pulled on his robe, and put on the silk gloves he stored in the pocket.

He perused the kitchen for food. He was startled when a very pissed off Scott came banging into the room. Scott saw Remy and sighed. "Hi, Gambit."

"Y' just read de papers, non?"

"Yes. I can't believe that Congress knowingly funded that shitty piece of research."

"Dey need t' justify de Sentinel program."

"I suppose. But really. And didn you *glance* at that list of mutants?"

"Y' mean de top twenty most wanted by Interpol? Oui."

"Funny. I am *not* wanted by Interpol."

"Right, cher, an' Gambit neither." He raised his brows in disbelief. "But at least dey used mutant names, non? An' dat's just more justification. All of dem on dat list *are* dangerous. Cher, y' can destroy a buildin' wit' a glance. Magneto blacked out de country. How many died because of dat? Y' can't argue dat Chatton ain't a menace. He loves killin'. Most of de assertion is dat dey're a danger. Oui. Most of us are when it comes down t' it. An' de fact of de matter is dey ain't got no one else t' be scared of t'day. Less'n we give dem a *human* target or a war, dey ain't gonna focus elsewhere." Remy shrugged. "Y' want t' fight dem, y' gotta do somet'in' different den what we do. Y' got t' start an ad campaign. And grass-roots recruitin'. Y' need t' get new people int' power."

"Aim the campaign at women and minorities."

"Anti-abortion activists." Scott though about that, then nodded.

"We'll buy a senator first though." Remy snickered.

"Y' eat?"

"No. I'd volunteer to make something, but you've never been fond of my cooking style." Gambit snorted.

"Frozen dinners and cold take-out ain't cookin'. I'll make dinner f' y'."



Later, Logan and Jean found their lovers on the floor of Scott's office with an easel pad of paper between them, arguing out what seemed to be an ad campaign. "They look happy enough," Jean told Logan. "Let's go see those etchings." Without looking up, Scott threw a marker at her. "Although maybe an aggressive Scott would be interesting." Remy glanced up at them. He wrote down two more points, then put down his pen.

He looked at Scott with questioning eyes. The field leader straightened out the papers then stood. He put out a hand and pulled Remy to his feet. "To Logan's room?" Scott suggested, then led the way.



Logan's bedroom was simply furnished with Japanese elegance mixed with rustic common sense. Gambit's attention was captured by the most ornate piece in the room. It was an obviously old, hand-carved chest. Despite the surprise of his lovers, he settled himself in front of it and studied the scenes. His fingers traced the figures carefully. "De old man dat carved dis, why did he give it t' y'?"

"I don't rightly remember where I picked it up, Darlin'." Logan shrugged. "I keep my gear in it. Ain't my usual style, but I like it well enough."

"I tell y' a story den sometimes. Wort' around $150,000."

"What?" Jean squeaked. Remy grinned at her. Scott rolled his eyes behind his visor. "Watch it," she warned him. Scott kissed her, and she melted. Scott's plan for the evening flashed across the link. "Oh."

"Think you can handle that? Three at once?"

"I'm damn well going to try!" she declared.

"Logan, do you..."

"Top drawer of course."

"Good." Remy shook his head in amusement. He lit the thick white candles next to the bed with a fingertip. He did so with his gloves on, then hoped no one would notice. Staying still most of the day meant tha the had a lot of energy to burn off. He thought that he might be better off in the Danger Room than the bedroom, but the emotions around him came crashing in and he knew he couldn't leave. It felt too good.

Jean tugged at Scott's shirt and got it off of him in short order. Logan worked at her clothes as Remy shut off the main lights. The candle-light flickered over bare skin with dancing shadows. Logan's ears caught the click as the lock was engaged. The soft chime of a bell made him smile. He felt warm hands slide under his shirt then unbutton the flannel carefully. He eased Jean out of her bra, letting her breasts to hang free.

Scott's fingers opened the buttons of her trousers and they puddled to the floor, revealing the garter belt and silk stockings she'd worn just for the hell of it. Logan whistled in appreciation. Scott slid his hands along the top of the stockings. "Nice," he purred in her ear. Logan's cock wanted out, now!

Gambit rested his palm over the desperately straining cock. Logan growled. Then, it was free of the thick denim. Soft, warm silk stroked over it in butterfly light touches. Then, latex was smoothed down its length. Scott's hands squeezed Jean's ass appreciatively, spreading her cheeks so that Logan could prepare her. Jean moaned. His blunt fingers were as gentle as possible, but Jean wanted more. Remy performed a similar service for Scott, rolling the condom on carefully. Scott enjoyed the brief touched of silk against his skin as Gambit eased his jeans off for him.

Logan laid Jean down on her side. He entered her slowly and she moaned at the pressure tha stretched her wide. Once he was seated, he rolled them onto his back, with Jean laying on his stomach. Her legs splayed open lewdly and Scott entered her in one fast thrust. He could feel Logan pulsing through the membrane that separated them. Logan kissed and bit her shoulder. She moaned and rocked her hips gently as she adjusted to being so full.

She wanted Scott to move, but he refused. //Open up, Sweetheart,// he told her through the link. It took a few moments for Jean to understand. Her lips parted and she ran her tongue over them. She reached out with her TK and dragged Remy towards them. He was naked except for the gloves and the now familiar blue collar.

He was startled by the strength of her pull. He straddled them, thankful for the length of his legs, and those muscle groups Hank was still fascinated by. Jean's mouth was open and waiting and he dipped past her lips briefly. She sucked at the tip of his cock and he licked his lips. He felt Logan's hands run up his thighs, then latch onto his wrists. He locked his elbows and let Logan help support some of his weight so he could concentrate on the pleasure of Jean's mouth around his cock.

At about that time, Scott moved and Jean thought she was going to dissolve into nothingness. She had never been so full in her life. She tried to concentrate on keeping the sensations separate, but that didn't work, and in the end they blended together in a rush of movement, smell, taste, and sound. She could feel herself through the link that she shared with Scott and knew that her heat and the brushes against Logan's cock made it hard for him to keep control. She could feel Remy tensing against her sides to keep from thrusting into her mouth and hurting her. She felt the jump and twitch of Logan's cock as it was embedded and pinned in place. He didn't dare move for fear of disrupting everything. Jean felt Scott tweak her nipples and she came. Her muscles milked Logan into a climax. She sucked down Gambit's seed hungrily. Scott thrust one last time into her, then collapsed against her stomach. She was too buzzed to move. She felt Remy settled to one side of them, one of his wrists still firmly held by Logan's orgasmic grip. She tugged on his bangs until he settled his head against her side so she could pet his hair.

Eventually, Scott disentangled himself. Logan released Remy's wrist and they moved the sleeping Jean onto her side. Logan stayed spooned behind her after separating from her. Remy found himself caged between Jean and Scott's bodies and closed his eyes. He was startled that he actually fell asleep again.



FINIS