Jean turned the suasages with her telekineses while she mixed the third batch of pancake batter. She flipped one dipper-full of batter onto the griddle. It sizzled immediately. She looked up when Remy came stumbling into the room. He was wearing yesterday's clothes and dark glasses. He poured himself a mug of black coffee and leaned against the counter.
Jean cheerfully slammed the cabinet door when she got out the tray for the pancakes. He winced. "Have mercy, chere."
"Nope." She whistled and off-tun redintion of "Whistle While You Work." Remy topped off his mug. "Where are the rest of the delinquents?"
"Y' can't blame po' Remy for followin' the example of his elders." He pouted at her.
"Remy *usually* has more sense than to get drunk with the boys." She flipped the golden brown pancakes. Breakfasts were her specialty in the kitchen. "What will Rogue say?"
"Give me the coffee and Ah won't kill yah," the woman in question stated. Remy handed her a mug.
"Sausage and pancakes?" Jean's voice echoes around the room.
"You are a sadistic woman, sugah." Rogue closed her eyes and leaned next to her boyfriend. "Ain't yah got a man to take it out on?"
"Scott was still passed out when I got up. And he'll sneak meds before he comes to breakfast. Were any of the others stirring, Remy?"
"Don' know. Stormy kicked m' out an' I came down."
"Logan's out back smoking." Jean desposited another set of pancakes into the warming tray. "You two'll just have to eat more." Her smile was cheefully menacing. "Wouldn't want breakfast to go to waste after all."
"You know ole Remy don't eat much breakfast," the thief stated.
"You *will* eat food this morning."
He gulped at the fire in her eyes. "Oui, Jeannie." He shot a desperate lookat Rogue over the top of his sunglasses. She shrugged at him. Rogue looked tired, but nowhere near as hungover as her boyfriend. With her Kree genetics it took a lot to get her drunk. Jean was almost impressed by the attempt.
"Of course, sweetie," Rogue said in the most poisoned honey accent she'd ever used. "Let me just change up some chores."
"Put Warren on bathroom duty. He'll have the worst symptoms."
"Don't know why folks t'ink y' a good person, Jeannie."
"Did you know that telekineses can be used to close off airways without leaving bruises?"
"Belladonna's been lookin' f' someone t' train."
Rogue snorted. "Jeannie ain't young enough. Might find someone at the academy."
Remy seemed to perk up. "Need t' find m'self an apprentice. T'ink Cassidy'd stroke out if'n I took on one of the kids?"
"Did he ever hunt you?" Jean finished up the batter. "Put this on the table." She pointed to the platter of pancakes.
"Mais. Once or twice. Can't prove it was me."
Rogue pout the pancakes on the table. She fetched the maple syrup, peanut butter, and strawberry jam. Remy pulled the chopped fruit out of the refrigerator and dumped it into serving bowls.
"He won't be happy, but he won't forbid it."
"You taking an apprentice from the academy. Sean's pragmatic enough to know we need your talents. Just don't pick Syren."
"Non. An orphan. Usually got a better feel for it."
"Your father raised you into it right? How's that different?"
Remy refilled his mug and refreshed Rogue's. Jean smirked when he didn't offer he any. "Pere took Remy off the streets." His voice was soft. "Adopted him at ten."
Jean startled, her eyes going wide. "Oh. I just assumed that you were by his second wife."
"Henri was his, oui. Jean-Luc aint' never remarried. Ain't never fallen in love again. Still loves Marie-Claire somethin' fierce." Remy sighed. "She was pretty. And Henri," he paused. "Henri always missed her. Worst when his chilen did somethin' like startin' high school." His voice took on a wistful note. He settled at the table.
Logan joined them a minute later. Cigar smoke still clung to his hair and clothes. Remy and Rogue both looked queasy when the smell hit them. "Mornin', Red." He leered at her. "How about a kiss, since yer boy's still out of the way?"
She laughed at him. "Make another pot of coffee. Remy's not allowed near it."
"Y' cuttin' me off? Enough t' make a man feel unloved."
"Oh, you're allowed to drink it, just not make it. You make coffee like a military man."
"Ain't my fault y'all like wuss coffee."
"I like *coffee* not battery acid." She shook a finger at him. "And just why were all of you idiots singing 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' at the top of your lungs last night?"
Rogue snickered. Remy pushed his glasses up to meet her eyes with twitching lips. Jean's eyes narrowed.
"Sorry, chere, need t' know information. Ask y'r husband."
"Which of the kids were yah thinkin' about?" Rogue asked.
"Paige Guthrie or Monet."
"I hate to point this out, but neither of them are orphans."
Remy shrugged. "I'd say Jubilee, but me an' Logan got a difference of opinion on the matter."
"My girl ain't gonna be a thief." Logan raised his brows. "Right?"
"Oui, M. Logan." Remy leaned away from the Canadian. "Y'r girl's gonna be a merc like you."
Jean filled Remy's plate the pancakes and pushed the strawberry jam in his direction. "Why those two?" She filled Rogue's plate with twice as much an handed her the glass-bottled maply syrup.
"Paige changes shape. Well, leastwise, her face. An' she can hold it long enough that her husks can be properly disposed of, oui? An' Monet's got... merde, she jus' feels right. A mindset mebbe? An' the ability t' walk in the right circles wit' no one suspectin' her."
"Hm." Jean pushed the susage toward Rogue. The younger woman blanched and pushed the plate to Logan. He downed three of them. The younger two watched him. Remy swallowed once, then turned to his girlfriend.
"Chere, what y' t'ink about finishin' the work in the pantry t'day?"
Rogue's smile was nearly feral. "Think yahr head can handle it, sugah?"
"Ah, Roguie, Remy's got a high pain tolerance. Comes from spendin' so much time 'rough sadists."
Jean laughed at his pointed glare.
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