Remy scowled at the cast on his wrist. He put the rubber band in his teeth and awkwardly tried to brush his hair out with his left hand. He'd never practiced the motion. He'd never even thought about it. He was sitting on the couch, his wet hair dripping into the towel he had around his shoulders. Scott was watching him out of the corner of his eye. The young man was doing his best, but it was starting to grate on Scott's nerves. He knew that Logan's new little pet wouldn't ask him for help. He knew because he'd made it quite clear that he didn't like him, but still.
"Gambit," he said finally. "Come here. Let me brush it out."
"Ah, merci, Cyke." Gambit settled on the floor in front of the older man. It was a show of trust. But then again, Scott had just been allowed off bed rest. It wasn't as if he were at the top of his form. He handed him the brush. Scott lost himself in the rhythm of brushing the red mane under his fingers. The thief relaxed against his legs. It was a little more interesting than reading at least.
Logan laughed. "Ain't ya a sweetie," he teased Scott.
"I was thinking 'sucker.'" Scott responded. "It's your pet. You should take care of grooming."
"I'll just cut it all off. Ya sure about hitting Nakamura tonight, Gumbo?"
"Hell, yes. De sooner I'm outta here de better." Scott smacked him with the hairbrush. Remy rubbed the offended arm. "Case in point."
Logan laughed again. He shook his head. "Then I'll go get what I need."
"You sure?" Scott asked. "What about your wrist?" Remy looked up at him.
"Dat ain't a problem." He waved away the concern. "Always able t' do wit' just one hand. Don't matter which on jobs. Doin' m' hair's different," he said with a grin. "Dought y'd like m' t' do it sooner too. De sooner I'm done, de sooner I'm gone. Den y' won't have me messin' up y' routine." Scott shook his head.
"You actually believe that Logan's going to let you walk away?"
"Dat's de deal, homme. I ain't here f' a permanent deal. Dis ain't m' scene. Too many people. And y' don't like m'. He ain't gonna upset y' like dat." Scott snorted.
"You think I've got a lot more power in this household than I do. Jubilee is my pet so she does what I want. Logan picked me up off the streets."
"He loves y'."
"I know."
"Y' love him."
"I like to believe that." Remy rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Scott pulled the hair up into a ponytail. "Did you want it braided?"
"Oui. If'n y' ain't got not'in' else t' do."
"It's been a few months, but I think I can remember. Jubilee just cut her hair recently." Scott parted the hair. "Why do you keep it long?"
"M' wife likes it. Look too damn young when it's short."
"You look young because you are young."
"Look who's talkin'."
"I've got a good eight years on you. I can play old man if I want to. And didn't anyone ever teach you not to get smart when someone's doing your hair."
"Never had anyone t' do it, really."
"You're married?" Scott asked as the silence lengthened.
"Oui. Didn' Logan tell y' about de blonde I was wit' in Madripoor?"
"No, he forgot to mention it."
"Dat was m' wife. She's an assassin." Scott laughed. Remy shrugged. He turned to look over his shoulder and Scott smacked his arm again.
"Stop that. I'm not done yet."
"Ow, what's wit' de beatin', homme?"
"I like it. Now, be quiet until I finish this."
"I ain't de one askin' questions."
"Don't try to blame this on me, Kid."
"Don' call m' kid."
"Ok, Puppy."
"Dat's even worse."
"That's what Jubilee calls you."
"Dat's what I jus' said."
"If Logan gets hurt because of you, I'll kill you."
"I know."
Scott twisted a rubber-band at the base of the braid.
"Merci. Gonna go make sure everyt'in's in order." Remy escaped to his room. He made sure that all of his things were packed. He made sure he had everything he'd need and a few things extra just in case. Then, he laid down to sleep before the job. Jubilee looked into the room. The thief was curled up in bed. His cast was stark against the darkness of his clothes. She sighed. Logan had found out what really happened. She knew that Scott would never know unless she told him. But he most likely wouldn't give a damn. She had to make things right just in case. She knocked on the door.
The thief sat up with his gun in his hand pointed directly at her head. "Hi."
"What do y' want, petite?" he demanded.
"Puppy, I just want to talk to you for a minute."
"Don't call me that."
"Don't call me petite." They glared at each other, but he folded his legs up and put his gun down. She climbed onto the foot of the bed. "Logan knows."
Remy shrugged. "Don't matter. What's done's over, chere."
"I ain't yer chere."
Remy shrugged again. "What y' want?"
"I want to say I'm sorry."
"Y' were upset. I understand that."
"Ya aren't mad?" She stared at him.
He shook his head. "Is that what was worryin' y'? Don't worry, petite. Y' were scared and worried and pissed. That ain't a good combo. Y' just wanted t' be there f' y'r Scotty. I understand."
"So we're cool?"
"We're cool."
Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Then, she left the room, closing the door carefully after her. Remy shook his head. He looked at the clock and went back to sleep.
About three hours later, Logan tapped lightly on his door, but he was already awake, checking his tools one last time. "Dinner time, kiddo."
"I ain't hungry."
"I don't give a fuck. Ya know that. Get yer ass downstairs to the dinner-table. I don't give a fuck if ya sit there and watch us eat. Move it, Cajun."
"Fuck off, Logan. I don't eat before a job."
"I told ya. Ya don't have to eat. Get yer ass to the table before I carry ya there."
Remy surrendered. He finished packing his tools while Logan watched. He looked up. "I'm getting' ready."
"I ain't goin' down without ya. Oh, and Cajun, loose the accent."
"Fuck off, cher."
"I ain't yer dear."
Remy rolled his eyes. "Tell that t' y'r amour, sil vous plait."
"Scotty causin' trouble?"
"He don' like me." Remy shrugged. "He's jealous."
"Scott don't get jealous."
"I'm t'inkin' he ain't never had reason b'fore."
"What're ya talkin' about?"
"Y' spend a lot of time with dis boy. He's t'inkin' y' don' love him no more."
"That's bullshit."
"I'm just tellin' y'. He ain't gonna ever like me bein' around y'." Remy shrugged.
"No more stallin'. Get yer ass down to dinner."
"Y' want t' get in or not? I don't got t' do this. I just pay y' back and walk out of this place. Y' can find y'self another t'ief."
"They sent me to you, boy. Don't get stupid."
"Y' hurt me, y' ain't gettin' in."
"Ya don't get down there, I don't gotta let ya live. I can sub-contract the work."
Gambit's eyes flared red. "I wouldn't if I was y'."
"Don't try threatening me, boy." Logan flashed his claws.
"Don' t'reatin' Remy den," the thief snapped. He closed his case carefully and set it into his bag. "Bein, let's do the family tradition bullshit, den, cher." He shooed the Canadian ahead of him. He hoped that the man hadn't noticed that his duffle was packed as well.
*****
"Finally." Scott dished out a serving of Pad Thai noodles gratefully. Remy settled at his usual place across from Jubilee. She smiled sunnily and filled her plate. Logan followed suit. Remy sat back with a cup of tea. "You should eat," Scott stated.
"Ain't hungry. Merci."
Scott let it go. Jubilee frowned at him. "You didn't eat hardly anything for lunch. Come on, puppy, you've got to eat."
"Non, merci, *petite.*" She scowled at him and ate her food.
Logan glared at the young man.
"F' fuck's sake, Logan, back off. I ain't eatin'. Y' want m' t' get y' in and out, don' fuck wit' m' routine. I don' eat b'fore assignments so I can hang around wit'out gettin' sick. Bien?"
"Fine." Logan held a hand up. "Don't get yerself worked up."
"Asshole," Remy muttered. Scott coughed. Logan's eyes narrowed.
"You okay, pet?"
"Fine," Scott said nodding. He took another bite to keep himself from smiling more widely. It seemed his competition was even more sharp than he'd been before. Logan was going to have to work harder to tame this one. Scott hadn't had anything to lose. Gambit came intact with his own reputation, his own family. He wouldn't give it up easily. But they'd have to keep him. They'd fed him after all. And Jubilee had taken a liking to him. At least, she had recently. He knew she wanted to keep him around. Jubilee was Scott's pet and he liked spoiling her.
*****
Gambit took a few minutes to center himself and reviewed the plans in his mind. He'd get Wolverine in and out of the building. He'd collect his fee and he was free. That part of the plan confirmed, he started rehearsing the rest of the night, one last time.
Wolverine watched the thief settle into the shadow and close his eyes. The boy seemed the blend into the wall and his estimation of the boy's abilities skyrocketed. Finally, the boy nodded once. He leapt the fence, clearing it easily. He touched down with barely a sound. He rewired the alarm around the door quickly and opened it. Nakamura had never questioned the loyalty of their own staff. They had a rather alarming tendency to kill anyone from the organization who betrayed them. Logan entered the door. He glanced at the work. He couldn't see the splices and it was a good bet that none of the guards would check it.
Gambit was moving. He gestured for Logan to stop. He timed the sweep of the cameras. Logan waited on his signal, then bolted to the next door. Luckily, trapped in the city Nakamura didn't have long expanses of grass to bother them. Logan could smell the dogs, but they hadn't been turned loose yet. There were still people working in the building. It was only eight o'clock. Several of the departments operated until at least midnight. Logan's target would be there until two a.m. He had to report in to the home office in Japan. The thief manipulated the lock on the door. Logan's brows rose. How'd the boy gotten ahold of one of the company's badges? He hadn't been out of the house since Scott had fallen ill. Gambit just grinned and ushered the Canadian in carefully.
The Cajun's head tipped to the side. He was listening to something, but Logan wasn't sure what it was. Then, he heard the little click. Remy stepped forward then. Logan wondered idly what new trick the security company had come up with. Once they had made it into the main part of the building, security consisted of nothing more than cameras. Gambit glared at the little machines. It was too early for the good security to be turned on. He straightened his tie. Logan sighed and did the same. It was better to blend in with the locals than to have to sulk in the corners and attract more attention. Remy snapped a visitor's pass on Logan's jacket. Logan rolled his eyes. He followed the young man. No one spared them a second glance. They were too busy doing their own thing. Remy led Logan up to the top level. He looped the cameras on the floor.
"Fifteen minutes. I'll be back. Don' fuck up."
Remy disappeared around a corner. Logan disabled the security camera in his target's office with one well placed silenced shot. The man didn't look up. He had earphones on with his CD player turned up. His eyes remained focussed on some report or other. Logan slid his sword from its sheath. The contract had been very specific. Logan sighed. He hated using his best blade for this kind of work. With one clean slice, he took the man's head off. He cut a lock of blood-soaked hair from the body and slipped it into a plastic bag. He wiped the sword off with a soft cloth and wiped off the outside of the bag. Then, he put both of them away. He slipped into the hall. The thief collected him on time to the second. They were off of the floor by the time the cameras came back on line. The camera in the executive's office wasn't connected to the main security room. It had been put into place by a suspicious CEO to watch his officers for betrayal.
They walked out the back door. Remy reset the alarm and jumped the wall to join Logan outside of it. He put on his sunglasses. He mounted the motorcycle behind the assassin and they drove back to Summers' Consulting's headquarters in McLean.
*****
"How'd it go?" Scott asked.
"Send the invoice." Logan dropped the evidence onto Scott's lap. "That boy's good. Pay him."
Scott nodded. "Now, sit down." Logan grinned. He joined his lover on the couch. Scott laid across his lap. He looked up at the Canadian. "Do I really have to wait until Bassley says I'm good to go?"
"Yes."
"Shit. I'm gonna go crazy here."
"The brats'll keep ya on yer toes."
Scott sneered. "Your new pet isn't going to stay."
"Oh, he'll stay alright."
"You can't keep him against his will. It's not like you."
Logan tweaked Scott's nose. "I don't know. Could be interestin'."
"Not your style. You believe in honor and justice, and getting the most for your money. He won't do you as well as I do."
"Don't tell me ya really are jealous?"
"I might be a little put out about the fact that you brought a replacement in."
"Ain't nobody in the world that could replace ya, Babe."
"You sure about that?"
"Completely." Logan placed a gentle kiss on Scott's lips. "No one could replace you."
"Prove it to me."
****
Gambit peered in at Jubilee. She was asleep. It was a school night. "Au revior, petite," he whispered. He shut her door. Jubilee blinked awake. She could have sworn she'd heard something. She listened hard and heard Scott and Logan in the bedroom. She covered her head with her pillow. "Fuck. Why can't they get better soundproofing in there?"
*****
Gambit smirked at the noise from the lovers' bedroom. He quickly rerouted the circuit around his window. He slung his bags over his back and jumped lightly from the window to the ground. He started towards the street. He stopped, hearing something in the bushes. He frowned. Maybe he'd better alert them to the breech in their security somehow. The pause was his undoing as someone leapt from the bushes and took him down. Creed's large palm closed off the Cajun's air. He held firmly. Remy managed to toss a button towards the lawn. It exploded, setting off the alarms just as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Creed snarled and tossed the kid over his shoulder. The brat was heavier than he'd thought with his tools and shit with him. He dumped him into the back of the van and was off.
*****
Logan jerked awake at the sound of an explosion. Scott was already reaching for his clothes when Jubilee came streaking into the room. "Remy's not in his room. The explosion was him. I'm sure of it."
"Shit." Logan dashed for the thief's room. He growled low in his throat. He'd hoped the boy would at least have the decency to say goodbye. He noted the re-routed system as he slammed the window closed and locked it. Scott threw clothes at Logan as he pulled on his shoulder holster and sheathed the knives he carried at his wrists and ankles.
Jubilee had her laptop open. She had turned off the alarms and was reviewing the security tape. "It's Sabretooth," she stated. "Van went west. Black cherry. Thing's fucking invisible in this town. With the red racing stripe. Back plate is Maryland. I'm running it now."
"Coms?"
"Here." She handed them the ear-pieces. "Bring him home. Or a Doberman if you can't find him."
"Mercenary bitch. She's definitely yers, kiddo."
"I learned from the best," Scott replied. "The plate?"
"Reported stolen last night."
"Send the cops a tip. Give them a description of Creed as the driver and that there was someone with him who didn't look happy about being there. Anonymous of course."
"Like, duh, Scotty."
"Keep your head down. And fix the security in the thief's room, pet."
Jubilee rolled her eyes. She turned back to her computer and filed a report to the police. "Try to at least get a tag on it okay?"
"Of course, sunshine," Scott stated. He adjusted his earpiece. "Test."
"Got ya. Wolvie?"
"Test."
"That's two. Be careful. And someone has to call in to school tomorrow."
"I'll call in the morning. Just keep us in contact." Logan considered telling Scott to stay in the house for approximately ten seconds, then decided that he liked having his balls and that regenerating them was too much trouble. "Good choice," Scott purred into his lover's ear, reading the conflict on his face. "Let's go. I'll even let you drive. West you said?"
"Yes. Get going. He's got one Hell of a lead already."
"And the tracker in Gambit's cast?"
"Signal's clear. I'll give you streets as soon as I get the fucking program to start."
Scott and Logan jogged out of the room to the Jeep.
*****
The first thing the Cajun became aware of was the feel of velvet beneath his cheek. It didn't smell like a pillow or a cape or anything else he might have fallen asleep on. He slitted his eyes. He was in the back of a car. "I know yer awake, punk. Just sit up and be a good boy, and maybe I'll let yer sorry ass live through this."
Gambit snorted. He caught the reflection of Creed's fangs in the window as he smiled in amusement. "Chatton?"
"Yer life expectancy's gonna be better if ya don't call me 'kitten' again."
"Oui, Chat, y' mind if'n I smoke?"
"I don't give a fuck. Ya want the lighter?"
"Non, merci, got m' own." Remy lit a cigarette from the crumpled pack in his coat. He took a lungful of smoke and sighed in relief. His body had been craving the nicotine. He tried not to give every once and awhile. But what the Hell, in his line of work, cancer was the last thing he was worried about. He hadn't been able to smoke in the house because Scott's lungs were sensitive to the smoke and he hated hearing the man cough. It sounded painful.
Creed tried not to let his amusement at the thief's attitude show.
"Chat?"
"What?"
"Why'd y' kill Genny?"
"To piss ya off."
"Worked."
"I know."
"Why'd y' follow m' t' Madripor?"
"I was following Wolverine. We got unfinished business. Yer just an appetizer."
"T'ink I'm offended. Gotta work on bein' more of a pain in de ass den."
Creed snorted. "I'll kill ya slow if it turns ya on."
"Merci." Remy shrugged the packs onto the floor. "Y' mind if'n I climb up front? Sittin' in the back always makes m' feel like une petite."
"Sure. I don't give a fuck. Look our fer the toys though."
"This ain't yer kind of toys?" Remy held up a stuffed Barney doll. He tossed it towards the trunk and climbed into the front seat. He pulled on his seatbelt.
"Naw. The brat who's parents owned this wreck. Gotta tell ya. I was lookin' fer Summers."
Remy snorted. "Dat ain't smart."
"What happened to yer wrist?"
"Broke it."
"How?"
"A fall."
"Ya know I ain't gonna let ya stay awake much longer?"
"Had a feelin' me. Y' gonna drug Gambit or hit him?"
"I think hittin's more fun."
"Sick bastard."
"Yup." Creed lashed out suddenly, clipping the young man's jaw and knocking him out. He grabbed the boy's cigarette and finished it. The Cajun was slumped against the window. It looked like he was sleeping. He should've waited fer Cyclops, Creed thought, then he'd know that Wolverine would follow. Setting off the alarms had not been in his plans. He was going to ambush Logan's brats. He knew about the kid's charge. He'd seen it in Paris. Could come in handy if he could tame the boy. He grinned suddenly. That'd piss Logan off double. Then he'd be able to get Cyclops and the littler brat too. What the fuck was her name anyway? Oh yeah, Firecracker.
*****
"He's taking 81 North," Jubilee stated. "He's gonna have to stop for gas sometime soon."
Scott nodded. "Right. Tell us when he stops. Shit there are a lot of fucking vans out here. Do they breed or something?"
"If you put two of then together in a parking lot, you get a third one," Jubilee lectured. "He's turning off. He's back on the road. Wonder what that was about?"
"If we're lucky Logan's new pet is making a pain of himself. We know he has the practice."
"I like the puppy. I wanna keep him."
"Oh, don't pout, Jubes. We'll get your puppy back. Fuck. I promised to get a Doberman if we can't find the thief."
"True. Thanks, Scotty."
"She's yers. I'm tellin' ya."
"Oh, shove it, Wolvie."
"Don't call me Wolvie."
"Why not? It suits you? Just a big marshmallow under it all. Taking in strays."
"Keep a leash on that mouth, boy," Logan threatened idly.
"Spank me and I'll call Hank," Scott shot back. Logan growled. The doctor would have his hide if Scott called him up with the fake tears he was so good at creating in his voice.
*****
Creed looked at his guest. The young man was still out. He shook his head. "Should've pulled it." He parked the van in the hotel lot. He pulled the bags out of the back. He broke into the pick-up he'd parked next to, pleased to find that there wasn't a security system. He dumped the bags into the back, then bundled the Cajun into the passenger side. He strapped him in, unintentionally binding his hands down. Then, he put the truck in reverse and screeched out of the parking lot.
*****
Scott stretched. "You want me to drive?"
"I'm good. You get some more sleep."
"Logan, don't mother-hen me."
"I ain't. There's no reason for both of us to be tired."
"I'm not going to be able to sleep right now. Let me drive."
"No."
"Don't trust me."
"Not when yer still coughin' up a lung when the weather gets too cold."
"Fine." Scott crossed his arms and slouched down in his seat.
*****
"Okay, kiddo, sit up. I know yer awake," Creed said almost gently. The Cajun looked at him warily, waiting for the blow. "Gotta get that cast off of ya."
"Why?"
"Because there's probably a tracker in it and I ain't goin' to take ya up to my place with a tracker on ya."
Remy swallowed hard. "How y' plannin' on removin' it?" He peered at the sign on the building in front of them. "Tattoos?"
"Yup. Come on. Trust me."
"Not fuckin' likely." Remy didn't argue, however, sure that it'd just get him smacked around some more. He followed the large man into the shop meekly.
"Benny, Karla in the back?"
"Yep. Go on ahead." Benny nodded them towards the back room without looking up from his work. Remy attempted not to touch anything as he passed, afraid that the dirt was going to choke him.
"It's not real dirt," the woman, who had to be Karla, informed him with a smile. "It's a paint effect."
Remy blinked. He reached out hesitantly and was surprised when he came away with nothing on his finger.
"Health standards of sanitation. They can't do anything about décor though. Makes people feel more tough than going to someplace that looks like a hospital room. What can I do for you?"
"Need to get the cast off the kid. Some folks are following him and there's probably a tracker in it."
Karla took in the bruises on the young man's face and the slumped shoulders. She smiled. "I can do that. Leave us alone for a minute or two. I'll send him right out."
"No deal."
"I'm not going to do anything with you hanging over me. You're upsetting him and you're irritating me."
Creed snarled at her, but left them alone in the room. Remy stood up straighter. He didn't dare say anything against Creed's story. But he had a feeling that this lady had already guessed everything. She patted the chair next to her. He sat down in it, arms folded across his stomach. "Cast. How long have you had this thing?"
"A week."
She sighed. "This will hurt, but I'll wrap it up nice and tight for you. It should heal quickly enough that way."
"Merci." He let her take his arm and looked away as she cut it off with a sharp, whining, saw. He bit his lip when the pain shot up his arm again. She carefully wrapped it with a strong Ace bandage. She scribbled a note: I won't destroy it. He nodded at her. He went back to Creed. There was no choice. He wasn't going to give up his tools, just because M. Chat had gotten it into his head that he was bait for Wolverine.
"Here." Creed handed Karla a hundred. "We weren't here."
"Of course not. Who is?" She rolled her eyes. "You be careful, Tooth. I don't want to see that boy back in here with puncture wounds, you hear me?"
Creed snorted. "He's tougher than that."
Karla shook her head. "Go on. Get out."
*****
"The tracker's stopped. I've got an address for you." Jubilee gave them the address.
"Got it. Hang a left at the next corner. There's a tattoo shop down there called Karla's."
They pulled to a stop in the front of the building. "And how do ya know about this place, kid?"
"I was thinking of getting a tat."
"No."
Scott pouted in Logan's direction, but the older man looked down his nose at him. Scott shrugged. "Fine. It was just a thought. She's a nice lady. Met her doing research."
"On what?"
"Something. Nothing you need to worry about. Just a job. It's done."
"I hate it when ya pull shit like this."
Scott grinned. "I know. That's half the fun of it."
Logan growled low in his throat as they pulled to a stop. Scott kissed him on the cheek and got out of the car. He sauntered into the shop and Logan took the time to appreciate the view. "Hey, Karla!" Scott called.
"Hey, pretty boy, what's got you out this way? Finally going to get that ink?"
"I wish. My lover's all growly about it though." Scott rolled his eyes. He pushed his shades to the top of his head. Scott looked over his shoulder at the glowering Logan. "He gets conservative at the strangest times."
Logan snorted. He nodded a greeting to the woman.
"You be good. Don't scare off the customers. I'm going in back to talk with Karla."
"If I scare 'em, they ain't really customers." Logan crossed his arms and settled on the chair.
"You're serious? He doesn't want you to get those initials on your arm? It was such a beautiful design."
"I'm serious. He doesn't want me to have anything pierced or inked. I don't get it. If I hadn't had the earring before I met him he'd have raised holy hell about getting one."
"So what brings you in, gorgeous?"
"Someone stole our newest recruit. And according to our sources, he was here."
Karla raised a brow. "Really. And what would make me remember him?"
"He had a broken arm."
"He was here with Sabretooth, but you already know that." She shrugged. "My guess is they're going to head further in state. I think Tooth has a place in Eastern Bumblefuck near the mountains."
"Great. Very helpful. I just wish we still had the tracker on him."
"Tracker?"
"The one in the cast that you must have taken off for him."
"Oh, that tracker. You want it back? I kept it."
"Yes. Those things can get expensive."
She dug around in her desk drawer, then handed over the device. The main wire was hot pink. "It looked like one of yours."
"What can I say, I like the flair." He winked at her.
"You didn't get one into his coat?"
"He searches it twice after he hasn't been wearing it."
Karla couldn't help but laugh. "He's got your number."
"I only tried to rig one blaster cap in there to see how he'd react."
"You're a sick, sick, boy." She shooed him out. "And don't use the highways."
"I'm going to be sleeping in the car. I can sense it now."
****
Remy tried to stay awake, but the lack of activity and the dull ache behind his eyes made him close his eyes. Once he did that, he was done for. Creed smirked down at the boy sleeping across his lap. The long auburn hair looked soft and pettable. Creed indulged his curiosity, but the one rule he did have was that he never did kids. He might try to kill the boy, but he wouldn't fuck him until he was of age. Some lines simply weren't for crossing. Still, the hair was silky under his fingers and the boy settled more deeply into sleep. Creed smirked. They drove on, sunrise glinting off of the hood.
****
Scott curled up against the side of the car. He flipped the lock shut so that he could rest without feeling paranoid. Logan followed the road west, stopping at every gas station and little shop to ask if Creed had been in. Jubilee had found a picture of him and sent it to Scott's phone. Scott loved that damned phone even if it had gotten him teased for months. Scott felt the lingering heaviness in his chest as his breathing slowed. He hovered in the weird restless half-sleep that had been his only rest when he'd been literally sleeping on the streets. He could wake in an instant. Logan wouldn't be too long. There was a tap on his window. He looked up to find Logan grinning at him. He flipped him the bird and sat up. "You got him?" he asked.
Logan nodded. Scott climbed out of the car. "Yer gonna want to use the facilities. We're headin' uphill. Next store's gonna be in about four hours."
"God, Pennsylvania is huge."
"Yup. What with all the twists, turns and back roads we're gonna be takin' it's gonna seem a lot longer. If we don't get lost."
"I hate you. Just so you know that. My back is going to be wrecked."
"Don't sulk. Bathroom's in the back. Clerk's got the key at the desk."
Scott sauntered into the small gas station shop. The man behind the counter grinned. "Yeah, you're the kid's brother all right. Here the key."
"Thanks," Scott said. He waited until he got to the restroom before he let his hands fist in outrage. There was no way he was related to that little brat of a street rat Logan had brought home with him. They probably should get him de-liced when they got him back from Creed. Scott took a deep breath. "I am not jealous," he whispered to the dirty toilet. He took care of business, then went back to the car. "Why are we going after him anyway?"
"Because he's Jubilee's pet any ya don't want a Rotwieller."
"Pit bull."
Logan snorted. His nostrils flared. "What's wrong, pet?" he asked quietly once they were inside the car and gassed up.
"I. . . I don't know."
"Scott," Logan growled. He hated it when the boy wouldn't talk to him.
"I just can't shake the feeling that you're replacing me with a better thief. A younger model that doesn't get sick all the time."
Logan started the car. When they were on the road he started to talk. "Scott, I love you. You. Not yer hair, yer face, yer clothes, yer cock, none of that. I love you. I love the spirit inside the boy that was shivering on the street-corner. Even wet, sick and hungry, ya were proud. I respected that first. I loved ya the minute I smelled the musk of yer hair. You are not someone I can replace. I'll love ya until death do us part. Ya know that."
"It doesn't matter, Logan. I still look at him and all I can see is a brat who didn't have to be rescued like a sick kitten. He doesn't need to be coddled. He doesn't need to be trained. Why the fuck don't we cut him loose like he wants?"
"Because that boy needs a home base and ya know it. He needs some normalcy in his life."
"You think we're normal?"
"Okay. He needs something steady in his life. He needs to have someone who can watch his back. Besides, he's fucking incredible fer a thief."
"Are you ticked because you taught me to kill?"
"No, ya took to it too quick fer me to ever regret that. Be careful with the kid, okay? He's not as self-reliant as he thinks. And I ain't gonna leave him to Creed. Ya saw what that son-of-a-bitch did to him in Madripoor. He'll destroy him and I ain't willin' to watch that happen."
Scott smiled. "If you sleep with him, I'm going to cut off your balls and feed them to you."
"If I sleep with him, first, he'll be 18, and second, you'll be in the bed."
Scott laughed. "Then I can relax because there's no way in Hell I'm ever going to sleep with that little shit."
Logan shook his head. "We'll see." Sometimes he liked riling Scott up. It kept the boy honest. Besides, if he let him sulk Scott'd be jealous forever.
****
Remy stood, docile, aching, next to Creed. His eye had swollen. The clerk of the supply shop looked at him and then back to Creed. "Your cousin?" the man confirmed.
"Yeah," Creed explained. "Kid's got a drug problem. His folks pulled him out of the middle of a flop house and asked me to take him up country and clean up his act."
The man behind the counter nodded.
"He's got some assholes followin' him. Direct 'em out of the way. They're gonna claim to be kin to him. But they're the ones that messed him up."
"Dealers?"
"Dealer and pimp. Boy needs to be away from them for awhile."
Remy raised his head, frowning. He wanted to glare, but he didn't dare. The man was violent enough when he wasn't mad. "I ain't a whore and I ain't a junkie," Remy stated.
"Denial," Creed countered. "He don't think he needs help."
"I don't need y'r kind of help, Chat," Remy replied. "Listen, homme, is there a phone I can use. I want t' call home an' ask Mama if this is f' real. I can't believe she'd send me up here wit' him. He can't even keep his fists down when he's talkin' t' my wife."
Creed snorted. "Ignore him, Pete. We'll take the supplies and get out of yer hair. Don't let him near the phones. He'll call those pieces of shit he thinks are his friends and we'll have to do this all over again. Come on, kid. Let's go."
****
"Logan, come on, not another one. One more dirt road and we're going to be seriously lost."
"I know what I'm doin', Scott. Just call Jubilee in sick to school."
"I already did that. She's also had lunch and is going over to Tiffany's house for dinner, then back home. She's checking in once an hour with the police system blotter."
Logan scowled at his lover. "Then shut up and pretend I'm a professional."
Scott punched him in the shoulder, frowning. "Don't treat me like a child."
"Don't whine then. I hate whinin'."
"You hate everything. I still say let him hang. He didn't want to be with us."
"He needs a beatin' fer leavin' our system vulnerable."
"You have no way of knowing that he wasn't just interrupted."
"Scott. . ." Logan sighed. "I know this place. I remember it. We're gettin' close to the general store. Let me do the talkin' or stay in the car."
"You're doing it again. You promised me that you wouldn't turn into an overbearing asshole every time I get a cough."
"I lied."
Scott sat back, arms crossed. "They won't believe you're related to him. Let me try to talk to them. Even if I am wearing leather, I look like I might vaguely be related. He looks like my fucking twin!"
"He don't look anything like you."
Scott laughed bitterly. "You just don't recognize that you brought home your pretty new version. What's the matter, am I too high-tempered for you or something? I get too sick."
Logan slammed on the brakes. Scott glared at him as he got the breath back into his lungs. He stroked Scott's cheek gently. "Scott, I need ya to listen to me. Really listen to me. I love you. I want you safe. There's nothing in the world that I want more than for you to be completely safe. But I haven't locked ya up somewhere. I haven't forced ya to stay home unless the doc says I gotta. Please, pet, try to be reasonable."
"You don't understand."
"I'm never gonna throw you away, Scott. Never. Yer mine." Logan growled and surged to catch Scott's lips in a harsh, claiming kiss. Scott put all of his yearning into the kiss and felt Logan respond. When they broke away, they were both calmer. "Okay, come in with me, but let me talk?"
"Don't I always?" Scott answered, smiling.
"I'll believe it when yer mouth stays shut."
"But I'm a much better con-artist than you are."
"Scott."
"I know. I know. Older, wiser, more irritating."
"Meaner. Ya fergot meaner."
Scott smirked. "Matter of opinion."
****
Creed hauled the Cajun along by his collar. He wasn't as rough as he could have been, but this kid didn't seem to know the first thing about forests. He pushed him into the cabin, making sure he'd fall with a well-placed kick to the back of his knees. Remy fell to the floor, catching himself with his good hand. He glared up through his bangs, but Creed could smell the fear. The young man took in the small cabin. There was a kitchen, a fireplace, a table with two chairs, and a bed in the main room. "Bathroom's through the door. Water yer gonna have to heat on the stove." He gave the kid a toothy grin. "Don't worry, it flushes. I just ain't got a water-heater yet."
"Merci," Remy said sweetly. He went to the bathroom, hoping for a window, but was disappointed. The small room was cedar paneled and completely enclosed. It was like peeing in a crypt. Except crypts weren't as well insulated, he thought ruefully. Cold water baths didn't bother him. He'd learned that he could heat water by touching it. It didn't explode like beer caps or anything, but it still got hot. He'd better not let Creed know that though. Let him think he was just taking a cold bath.
"Door open!" Creed said firmly, opening the bathroom door. "Yer not gonna hide out in here. Time fer dinner. Take off yer coat and sit down."
"I'm cold."
"I don't give a fuck. Go set up the fire."
Remy looked dubiously at the fireplace. He'd never set up a fire before. He didn't want to admit that to the man currently in the kitchen. "Say what, cher, Remy make dinner, y' get the fire?"
Creed blinked at him. Then, he smirked. "Sure, kid. Just don't cook the meat too much. I like it bleedin'."
"Oui, M., Remy only lives t' serve." The thief followed that with an extravagant bow. It was a quiet night after than. Remy fell asleep in front of the fire.
****
Scott leaned against the counter while Logan talked to the man behind the desk. It was useless. The man was lying to them and all three of them knew it. Scott pushed his shades up to the top of his head. He looked at the clerk. "Listen, I don't know what sort of shit his boyfriend fed you, but Remy's underage and Victor's been beating him for months. I don't want my brother to end up a fucking statistic because Victor scared you into saying they weren't here." He deliberately let traces of Remy's accent into his speech. "This is the only place left t' look. If we don't find him soon, we're goin' t' be looking for a corpse. I know how irritatin' the little prick can be and I didn't even get to see him grow up. I'm only here because Mama asked me to find him and I'm not going to let her down."
The clerk blinked. No matter what Creed had said, these two probably were kin to the boy he had. Pete rubbed his nose. "I didn't tell you this. You ain't never seen this place. Creed was here, with the kid. He went up to his cabin. It's a good five hours from here. You're better off staying at the motel on the main road and startin' up tomorrow. You won't find it in the dark."
Logan sighed. "Just gimme a map."
Scott turned around and dropped his shades back over his eyes. He had a headache. He did need to sleep in a real bed, or at least the back seat tonight. He'd never admit it, but his chest hurt and he was tired. Not to mention the fact that he want very much to feel Logan wrapped around him, holding him in the world.
****
Creed shook his head. He shook the kid awake. Remy looked up at him, a little dazed. "You stay here. I'm gonna catch lunch. If I've gotta track ya, yer gonna regret it." Creed slammed out of the cabin. He was smirking to himself as he bypassed the trip-wires he'd set around the porch.
Remy looked around the cabin, brain piecing together what had happened. He noted that his bags and coat were in plain sight. He bit his lip. There's no way Creed would be that stupid. But he had to try. He couldn't stay here. He wasn't going to be Creed's hostage, toy, or partner. He used the bathroom and got himself some breakfast. Then, he gathered his things and opened the front door. He slipped through the maze of trip-wires with ease, looking for the trick. There wasn't one. He closed his eyes in a brief prayer of thanks and headed for the road after finding that the truck was disabled.
Creed returned with his prey neatly cut for transport. He paused. The Cajun's scent shouldn't be this far down. In fact, it shouldn't be anywhere but near the truck and in the house. His thief was free. He bared his teeth. He stowed the meat. He had plenty of time. The Cajun was a city boy.
Remy was beginning to accept the fact that he was lost. He'd missed a turn somewhere. His concussion was making everything hard to remember. The light of the sun was making his eyes water and he'd found that his shades were broken. He was just about ready to turn back when a steam engine hit him. No, he found, looking up into golden eyes, Creed had found him.
Sabretooth lifted his hand and extended his claws like a cartoon cat preparing to slice up a dog. He pressed one claw to the boy's temple. He left a shallow cut down the side of the young man's face. His other hand settled on the boy's throat. "That was a mistake, boy." He beat the boy, thoroughly, careful not to break anything. The bruising would keep him docile. He put the Cajun over his shoulder and carried him back to the cabin. He dumped him on the bed, ignoring the dirt and leaves. The thief watched with dull eyes as the larger man opened the root cellar. "Put yer shit back where it was." Remy complied, eyes blazing in sudden anger.
"Why y' doin' this?" he demanded. "Why the fuck y' want me? I ain't Cyclops. I ain't somethin' Logan's gonna care about or come after!"
"Maybe I just want ya all fer myself. Get into your new room. If yer good I'll even feed ya."
Remy glanced around the room. He was trapped. He could avoid the trip wires on the way out, but Creed was too fast and he was too hurt. He moved slowly towards the trap door. He noted the latch wouldn't be accessible from the other side and balked. Creed grabbed the young man's ponytail and wrapped it around his wrist.
"Yer gonna get in and stop stallin' or I'm gonna have to get nasty with ya. Maybe I'll just fuck ya to remind ya that yer my bitch now."
"Fuck off, Chat. Y' ain't my type."
"That don't actually matter," Creed smirked. He caressed the bruised cheek gently. "Get down there."
"Let go then," Remy snapped. He turned from the touch and Creed laughed at him. He let go and the thief descended into the root cellar. He found himself a corner that was mostly free of spider webs and settled down, cradling his aching wrist against his chest. The door slammed shut and he heard the latch close. Remy closed his eyes. He felt the tears finally slide down his cheeks.
****
Scott braced himself as they went down another "road". "I have an idea, let me kill Creed. You go find your new pet."
"Shut up, Scott." Logan's voice was a little strained. Scott had been a bastard all morning. He knew the younger man was just a little cranky from the "bed" they'd had to use. It had been little better than a jail-room cot. In the normal scheme of things, Scott didn't care where he ended up sleeping, but after being sick, he craved soft beds. Well, at least beds that didn't have metal springs poking through them. Logan patted Scott's thigh, then went back to the gearshift. Scott's mouth tightened as they hit another bump.
Fucking Cajun, he thought to himself. You better be worth this shit. Scott knew he'd do whatever Logan wanted, so his protests were never that vocal. He stared out the windows and considered how many different ways he could torture Logan's new pet. Then, he started to really think about the brat. The Cajun tried his best not to be irritating. It wasn't really his fault that Logan ran to type. He rested his forehead against his arm. He'd be civil to Logan's pet, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. That decided, he put himself into the proper mind-set for attacking Creed's stronghold.
Logan pulled up and stopped. "We're gonna go in hard. I'll take Creed if he shows. You get the kid and get out. If I ain't in the car within fifteen minutes, pull away. I'll make my way back."
"There is no fucking way I'm leaving without you."
"No arguments, pet." Logan kissed his lover with harsh passion. "No arguments. You leave. I don't want to lose you. Will you do it?"
"I'll get your new pet out." Scott's voice was soft, cold, "but if you aren't in the car, I'll hunt you down and get at least two good shots in before I leave."
Logan growled low in his throat, but they both knew the threat was useless. Logan would never hurt his mate. He nodded once. They drove up the dirt road as quickly as possible. Logan slammed on the brakes and was out of the car and in the middle of a fight before Scott even noticed the cabin was there. He hurried inside. He found Gambit's things easily enough, but there was no sign of the thief. "Gambit?" he called.
****
Remy scrubbed at the tear-marks on his face with his good hand when he heard the front porch creak. He wouldn't give Creed anymore satisfaction than he'd already gotten. He frowned. Those steps weren't right. Creed was effortlessly silent. This person wasn't making any attempts to be quiet. "Gambit?"
Remy's eyes widened. Logan had actually come after him? And brought Scott? "Cyclops?" he called back.
"Where are you?"
"Root cellar." Remy moved to the door. He pounded on the solid wood.
****
Scott saw the rug vibrating. He kicked it out of the way and opened the trapdoor. Gambit looked up at him, head canted to the side. "Hi," Scott said with a grin. "Need a ride?"
"I suppose I could do wit' one, cher." Remy pulled himself up carefully. He went immediately to his coat and bags. "Y' be nice enough t' help m' wit' this?" Scott helped him put on his trenchcoat. The thief scooped up his bags. He looked at Scott. "Merci. Y' didn' need t' do this."
"Thank Logan. Come on. To the car." Scott guided the young man out the door and to the Jeep. He got behind the wheel, while Remy threw his things into the back and climbed in after them. Scott started the engine and put the car in gear. He was ready to move when Logan loped out of the woods and into the passenger side. He ignored the blood on Logan's clothes and hands. "Is he alive?"
"He'll heal. I'm gonna have to hunt the fucker later. Get us out of here. Too many folks know we were lookin' fer him."
Scott nodded as they flew down the roads towards the main roads. "Call Bassley."
"When we get closer." Scott looked into the rear-view mirror. Logan's pet needed a full check-up. Remy looked out at the trees.
"Y' shouldn' have come f' m'. He'll go after y' Firecracker now. I could've gotten out."
"Really? You looked rather well penned to me," Scott stated.
"He was already talkin' sex. Once a man starts t'inkin' wit' his dick, he's easy t' convince. But y' know dat."
"Why'd he take ya?"
"T' get t' y' two at first. Then, t' keep m'." Remy's voice dropped low at the end.
"Keep ya?" Logan prompted with a frown.
"Oui. Don' know why, me. Must be dis fuckin' bullshit t'ing the two of y' got goin' on. Y' keep tryin' t' outdo each other."
"He wanted a partner?" Scott laughed. "Bullshit."
"Tol' y', just t' get Logan's goat. T' piss him off. Always heard he didn' do jailbait, but t'ings change."
"He wanted you in his bed?" Scott clarified. "That doesn't sound right."
"Figure he was tryin' t' fuck wit' m' head some." Remy shrugged. "Don' matter. Y'all mind if I nap?"
"If you can nap on the roads we're taking, you have a concussion," Scott stated. "Therefore, you stay awake."
"Y' just a bitch, cher. Y' know that?"
"He's also right," Logan said to keep them from sniping at each other. Remy sulked quietly. His head throbbed.
"Y'all can drop me at the next city we come by."
"Shut up, pet," Scott said.
"Connard."
****
Bassley frowned at Logan's new pet. "Remy, you must allow me to examine you completely."
"There ain't nothin' wrong except some bruising."
"Strip down and let me take a good look at you."
"Why, Mademoiselle Docteur, I didn' know y' felt dat way."
"Remy."
The thief scowled, but finally stripped down to his, well, his skin. He didn't wear underwear. Bassley handed him a paper gown. He sat on the table, gown open in the back. The doctor's hands were gentle, if impersonal as she poked, prodded, and stroked over his body, checking for broken bones, possible internal bleeding, or cuts. She looked at the claw marks on his leg in dismay. "When did you get these?"
"About the time Logan found me in Madripoor." Remy's lips tightened.
"And you didn't have me check them?"
Remy shrugged. "They was healin' fine. Didn't even get infected."
"But they could have. Next time, you will tell me of any major injury, understood?"
Remy didn't answer. She glared at him until, after what seemed like ages, he nodded.
"Now, let me set your arm again. Honestly, why can't people just leave their casts on?" Remy snorted. She worked quickly and efficiently. "As soon as this dries you can get dressed. You're very lucky that I'm not forcing you to stay here for observation. You're MRI came out clear, but I don't like taking chances. If you have any dizziness you call me immediately. I'll tell Logan and Scott as well, just in case you forget."
His lips tightened. "I ain't stayin' with them any longer'n I have to. I told y' I'm independent."
"You will stay with them until your arm is healed. I don't want to have to fix this again. You could lose all movement in it if it doesn't heal properly."
He met her eyes. The thought of that did scare him and she could see it in his eyes. "Oui, Mademoiselle."
"Good. I'll see you in two weeks, if not sooner." She smiled at him. "Don't worry, Remy, they're good people. They'll take good care of you."
"I don't want t' be taken care of."
"Everyone needs a little help now and again. Jubilee is fond of you."
"She's a brat."
"Scott will come around, Remy. He'll get over it. Speaking of whom, I should check him out while he's here sulking. I'll leave you to get dressed. If I find out you lied to me about whether or not that bastard raped you, I'll make sure you don't enjoy your next physical."
Remy stuck his tongue out at her.
She smiled. "Someday, I'm going to take you up on that."
He winked. "Lookin' forward to it, chere."
****
Scott shook his head. "Put it away, Doc. You don't get to torture me today."
"Don't be stubborn. Open your shirt."
"You just do this because you want to see me topless."
"Exactly. Someday, you'll actually strip down for me instead of having the EMT's do it for you."
Scott sighed, knowing there was no hope of escape. She checked his breathing and vitals.
"You'll live. Just get some rest, sweetie, you're getting frazzled."
"Doc, fuck yourself, please?"
"I didn't think you were into women." She batted her lashes at him.
He laughed. "Where's the puppy?"
"Puppy?" Bassley shook her head. "You have the most unusual family. Jubilee came up with that one, didn't she?"
"Yes. But it fits. Another stray. Though I think he might be more of a stray cat than a stray dog. It irritates him though, so it's all good."
"Why don't you like him?"
Scott shrugged. "I just don't."
"I give it three months. Either you two will kiss and make up or you'll kill each other and be done with it."
Scott put out a hand. "I say it'll be one month before I kill him."
"Now, ma petite, it ain't fair t' be makin' a bet like that wit' one of the primaries."
"Shut up, pup."
"Fuck y'self, Scott." Remy leaned against the wall. "Now, tell me why y'all ain't gonna let me get a hotel room?"
"Jubilee wants to see you're alive."
"Right. Dat's bullshit, but I'm too tired t' argue. Can I sleep on this trip?"
"Yeah. I get to wake you up ever hour. Should be fun."
"Be nice to him, Scott," Bassley said. "He sat with you when you were sick."
"Only because Logan threatened to gut him if anything happened to me."
"Okay, get out before I trank both of you," Bassley said pointing to the door. "And take your pills, both of you."
They didn't deign to answer her.
****
Jubilee caught Remy in a tight hug. He patted her back. "I'm fine, petite. Don' worry y' head over m'."
"I missed you, puppy."
"Well, I ain't gonna wag my tail, even if y' keep callin' m' dat, petite."
"I'm glad you're okay. I fixed the reroute on your window and upgraded it." She smiled up at him innocently.
"Oui? Guess I'll have t' check it den."
"After you sleep for an hour." Scott's smirk was evil. Jubilee frowned at him.
"Why only an hour? Did you hit him?" she asked.
"No, Creed hit him. I just get to wake him up to make sure the concussion doesn't kill him."
"Cher, I hate y'. Just thought y' should know."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, pet." Scott winked. He pointed up the stairs. "Jubes should have it all nice and clean for you. Catch a shower. You're gonna be sore in the morning."
Remy snorted. "No shit, cher. Show me this upgrade, chere."
Jubilee pulled Remy up the stairs to his room.
Scott watched them go. Logan came in from the garage with the bags. "Kid took his stuff up?"
"Doesn't trust me with it."
"Smart."
"I'm going up. You get to take care of it."
"He's a boy. Use 'him'."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He kissed Logan on the cheek. "I'm going to bed."
Logan caught Scott in a firm kiss. "Sleep well, Darlin'. I'll join ya after I make sure the kid don't bleed out on us."
"He's got too hard of a skull to do that."
"Goodnight, Scotty. Yer gettin' snippy."
Scott gave his lover a smile, then went upstairs.
Logan put the bags by the stairs and followed him up. He'd hear the shower go off. That would give him and Scott plenty of time. He wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and lifted him up over his shoulder. Scott laughed. Jubilee looked out of her room. She shook her head. Her parents were such mushes.
FINIS
Return to ASTOS Index
Return to XM Bedroom
Return to the Library
Return to the Main Page