The Christmas carols echoed through the mansions halls until Scott wanted to scream. If he heard "I'll Be Home for Christmas" or "Jingle Bells" one more time, they were going to have to replace the entire audio system. He pounded on Gambit's door. He got no response, so he pounded harder. Sighing, he opened it and poked his head in. The thief was at his desk writing out his Christmas letters, with a pair of earmuffs in hot pink over his ears. He waved his leader in to the room. "Shut de door." Scott did so and the noise of the songs decreased.
"I'm assuming your fashion statement is Jubilee inspired?" he asked. It was Christmas Eve. Remy frowned, then pulled off the earmuffs. He removed the disposable ear plugs.
"Hehn?"
"Hot pink?"
"Stole dem fr' Jubilee's room. She refuse t' wear dem anymore. Dinks dey're f' kids. I dink dey work f' shutting out dose damned songs." Scott cocked his head to the side.
"Got any spare earplugs?" Remy tossed him a pack.
"Dere somet'ing y' came t' see Gambit 'bout?"
"I feel like doing some property damage. Want to join up?"
"Depends on wet'er de damage be t' de constructs or t' me."
Scott snorted. "Don't dare give you a black eye around the holidays. The professor gets snarky."
"Let's go den. Where's y' boy?"
"He's setting up the program."
*****
Jubilee was coordinating the stringing up of the mistletoe over the doors. With single-minded intensity she made sure that every door and window in the house had a sprig hanging over it. The tree was not so large as last years, but no matter, there was still a pile of presents beneath it. Sam checked them carefully to make sure that there were no nasty surprises or gifts addressed to people no longer around. Ororo was baking pies and cookies. Betsy was preparing for the feast that was dinner. There was little laughter in the house, most of that from gallows humor.
Xavier was directing the moving of furniture in the parlor. Bobby was clearing the snow from the drive. Henry was in his lab as usual. If the music had shut off the house would have been as quiet as a tomb. This doesn't feel like Christmas at all, Sam thought. He wondered again if he shouldn't have gone home with his sister this year and taken Jubilee to meet his family. They would love her. She needed to know that there were good people in the world. But then again, he didn't want her to have to choose between him and Logan. The mansion felt the same way his house had after his grandmother had died. The first Christmas is always the hardest.
*****
Remy and Scott were flat on their backs, breathing hard. "Ya aren't tired yet are ya? Kids, no stamina."
"Stamina, oui. Healing factor, non," Gambit gasped. Scott just put a hand over his eyes.
"I think I'm dead." Gambit poked him, unintentionally finding a ticklish spot. "Stop that," Cyclops ordered.
"Y' ticklish? Logan, dere's dings y' not been tellin' Gambit."
"And Logan would be telling you about me because?"
"He made a deal. What time is it?"
"Almost dinnertime."
"Merde. Gotta get up." Logan offered him a hand and yanked with just a little more force than necessary. "'ey!"
"Ya gotta get a leash fer that mouth, Gumbo."
"Y' been keepin' secrets from y' boy?"
"Git." Remy blinked slowly.
"Y' sound jus' like Kitty."
"Go."
"Oh, so it just be y' accent." Remy smiled.
"Nope." Logan gave him a shove. "Brat."
//Gonna give me a hand?// Scott asked.
//And a hell of a lot more.//
//Good.//
The door closed as Logan knelt down beside his lover. Remy resisted the temptation to watch. Wasn't going to do him any good. Not without someone to tell it to. He frowned at the intercom speaker that was leaking Christmas carols. He changed the channel. Damn it. Why didn't the two of them make more noise? He snorted and left it there. Serve them right to disturb the rest of the house. Maybe he could rewire the security camera in their room.
*****
Xavier was worried. Scott and Logan had missed dinner. He sent out a probe and cut it off before he could lose his composure. That explained that. Gambit was muttering something about Solstice celebrations and where exactly did he put those cuff-links that he'd been wearing last night. The thief seemed to have forgotten that he was in Xavier's room and was pawing through the trinkets on the dresser. Charles watched him prowl around the room. "Y' helped me take dem off, where'd y' put dem?" he demanded of the professor.
"I believe you put them in your pocket before you left."
"Encule."
"Language."
"Y' a soldier. Get over it." He spun on his heel and left the room.
"Gambit!" Betsy snapped as he pushed past her. Well, brushed past her. Okay, okay, brushed some parts that he really shouldn't have on the way past her. He grinned over his shoulder at her. She shook her head. Mourning had never looked so good.
"Diablo!" Raven called up the stairs. "Hurry up! We're going to be late."
"Just because the woman doesn't have a date, Remy gets dragged everywhere. Remy hates Christmas. Always has. Too damn cold in the north. Back home, not so bad, but here, Bah." He took a moment to check his look in the mirror. His hair was down. He slid a rubber band into his pocket just in case. Black with sparks of silver and garnet at his wrists. His wedding ring was on a chain around his neck. He tucked it inside the shirt. He slipped on black leather gloves and his leather jacket.
Mystique looked him up and down. "You'll do, I suppose. Come on. I don't want to be late."
"Just because y' don't have t' worry 'bout y' clothes."
"What happened to your earring?"
"Don' feel like it."
She smacked him lightly. "No pouting, Diablo." He rolled his eyes and then put on his sunglasses. "You won't need those." He shook his head and followed her to her car.
"Top up!" he snapped. "Remy is not ridin' in dat ding wit' de top down! Don' even ride my bike in dis weather!"
"Accent!" He slumped down in the seat.
*****
Scott ran an appreciative hand down Logan's flank. He could feel the stiffness of the older man's cock pressing against his hip. "Healing factor is a wonderful thing," he murmured. The warm wonderful heat that was covering him moved. He followed his living blanket.
"Be right back." Scott sighed and snuggled into the blankets. His stomach growled. He blinked at the clock.
"Shit. Missed dinner," he yawned as Logan came back from the bathroom. He sat up, the sheet falling neatly into his lap. "Wanna get some food?" Logan licked his lips.
"Not exactly what I'm hungry fer at the moment."
"And what are you hungry for?" Scott played dumb. It felt good to play without feeling guilty about it. Damn Jean for dying anyway. Fuck, there were the tears. Logan leaned down and kissed him.
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Feeling guilty. She didn't die because of something you did. And she wouldn't want you to be miserable." Scott sighed.
"Doesn't change anything. I'm pissed and I shouldn't be. I know it wasn't her fault any more than it was mine, but," he shrugged. Logan kissed him again.
"Does it hurt as bad?"
"Not as bad as it did. The sharp pain is gone. Now it's a dull ache. It's like I've gotten used to it. It just comes to my attention when I turn wrong, or think wrong, or look at the kitchen," he admitted. "I know you miss her too."
"I've lost more than I can remember, Slim. I'm not gonna lose you right now. Later, I'll remember her, and you probably."
//Scott, Logan, there's a… situation. I need the two of you to check on.// Scott groaned.
//Where, when, how?// Xavier provided the information.
//And not in costume.//
*****
Scott looked at the doors, then at his partner. Logan was looking at him with an apologetic look. "Somehow, I don't like this," Scott informed him. "And when I figure out why, I'm going to blame it all on you."
"I ain't goin' in there, Cyke. No way in hell. I can smell the pheromones out here."
"I'm not going in alone. Just hold your nose. Or don't you think you can handle it, Runt?" Cyclops challenged. Logan's eyes narrowed. The bouncer was watching them, laughing. She waved them over. She wasn't obviously strong, but neither of them wanted to challenge her.
"First timers, right?"
"Oh, yeah. We're supposed to be here to pick up a friend." Scott sighed. "As if anyone in there even remembers that there's an outside world."
"Oh, you must be the shapeshifter's friends. She said you'd be stopping by. Go on in. She paid your cover. Said it would do you good to get out of the house? Something about a funeral?" Scott's face went flat.
"No way. I'm not goin' in, Slim. Ya can deal with Mystique yerself."
"She paid both of you in, so go on. The drinks are on her tab. Try the mead." She opened the wooden door. "Go!" she ordered. The two men stepped into the middle of a medieval tavern. There was a fire burning in a stone fireplace. Rustic wood tables around the center which had been made into a dance floor. The bar was old and scarred. The barman was grinning as they took it all in. The people inside were dressed from the height of Fifth Avenue fashion, to grunge, to pure goth. And there in the middle of the dance floor, was the red-headed mutant Scott knew was to blame for everything.
Remy wiggled his fingers at them and returned to the group of men and women he was, ahem, dancing with. Scott closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't have Logan's nose telling him that there were pheromones playing havoc with his libido. Nope, didn't need it. He'd have to be blind, deaf and completely head-blind not to be able to catch the feeling in the room. Mystique shimmied her way through the crowd to them. "Hello, boys." She kissed them each on the cheek. "Bye! Have fun!" She shoved them forward and slipped out of the front door.
"I need a drink."
"Amen," Logan answered and headed for the bar. Scott leaned against the door, watching the dancefloor. He knew there was going to be trouble. He just wasn't sure what it was going to be. Remy's eyes were closed and a smug smile graced his face. He was half-leaning against the large man that had just taken up residence behind him. The hands of the people dancing around them seemed to stray from their partners a little more often then necessary. The music was throbbing and almost primitive. The steady backbeat affected Scott's heartbeat and he relaxed. He took the mead that Logan offered him. At least there wasn't a hint of Christmas music. There was fresh evergreen on the mantle. The stones were nearly glowing in the firelight. It was peaceful, protective. "Ya ain't fallin' asleep on me there, eh?"
"No, I'm very much awake. I think I like this place. Even if it does put up with Cajun brats." Remy's current partner had ahold of his wrists. They were facing one another now. "He's gonna get himself killed."
Logan snorted. "Doubt it. He'll make 'em ferget what they were gonna do ta him." Scott gave him a half smile.
"Why the hell did the professor get us up for this?" Scott wondered aloud. The song didn't so much end as reach a low point. Remy extricated himself and prowled towards the bar. He swallowed down what was left of his drink. The bartender took the tankard towards the hot cider. He poured in a measure of whiskey. Scott noticed him drop in a measure of what he took to be spice or sugar and then filled it with cider and gave it a stir. Remy gave him a blinding smile and made his way towards where Scott and Logan were standing. A slow way as he greeted newcomers and said goodbye to people leaving, all the while flirting and caressing.
"Allo, Cyke, Logan. What's up?"
"The professor said there was a situation to investigate."
"So dat's who Raven called." Remy shrugged. "Well, you're here now. Drink. Dance. Have some fun."
"What happened to your accent?"
"Hmmm? Oh, I lost it. Raven don't like it much." Remy shrugged. "Too identifiable in this crowd. So no calling me 'Cajun', D'accord?"
"Right. So, Brat, how did you find this place?"
"Raven brought me. Looks like she's run off though." He frowned. "Gonna have to find a ride home. Come dance with me." He grabbed Scott's wrist.
"I don't dance in public," Scott protested. "And what are you staring at? A little help here would be appreciated." Logan grinned and followed them.
"This is Scott. This is Logan," Remy introduced them to the people on the dance floor. "Big brother and his friend. They wanna drag me home." Remy rolled his eyes.
"I don't think so," a skinny woman in red stated. "You haven't danced with me yet." He took her up on the obvious offer. Scott and Logan were quickly surrounded. //Well?//
//So, dance already,// Scott replied. There were enough mixed same-sex couples to make it not unusual. That didn't keep them from garnering their share of watchers though. Of course, the fact that those watching were appreciative rather than disapproving made all the difference. Eventually, Scott gave up trying to keep track of Gambit and concentrated on keeping his drink from ending up all over everyone else as he led his partner towards the bar. The bartender grinned at them. "You're not exactly as straight-laced as Remy led us to believe."
"And what exactly has the brat been saying?"
"He figured one of these days big brother was going to drag him out of here, so he told us what you looked like. Didn't want Cherry to bounce you." Scott shrugged. It was a sound policy. "Also told me about a sister with white hair?"
"Ro. Yeah. It would probably be her coming to get him out of here more than anyone else," Logan agreed. He settled on a bar stool and pulled Scott onto his lap. The taller man yipped.
"Warn me!"
"Where's the fun in that?" Logan grinned and Scott shook his head. "'sides, ya need to loosen up." They were talking with the bartender when a rather too familiar figure walked in the door. She was surprisingly well-dressed in a green pantsuit with a snowflake on the lapel. She stalked right over to them, glanced them up and down and set herself down on a seat.
"I need something strong," she told the barkeep. She looked at them again. "Someone left something out of the last briefing," she stated. "What the hell are you doing here?" She bolted down her vodka. "More." Scott watched in fascination as she bolted down what amounted to four shots of vodka in one gulp. "What?"
"I haven't seen anyone drink that quickly in awhile." Scott shrugged. "So, Christmas truce?"
"My night off. Don't feel like killing you, yet. So, this doesn't seem like your kind of place."
"Oh, it isn't," Scott agreed. "No, I was planning a nice, relaxing night at home."
"What got you out of the house? A drink for my friends here," Arclight said, dropping a charge card on the bar. "Keep it on account."
"Sure thing. What you boys want?"
"Just keep the refills coming," Logan said.
"You got it."
"So, when did this," she gestured at them, "happen?"
"Last Christmas."
"And no one told me!" she screeched. "I'll kill them. This is not the sort of thing you forget to tell someone. Wonder what else, they've forgotten to tell me. Xavier's making out with Magneto. The weather witch has finally decided to give up on celibacy." Scott smirked at her.
"Someone got left out of the gossip loop? Poor thing." She stared at him.
"And someone bought a personality. Pull in the claws, punk. Geez. You've been hanging around the pet too long." Scott looked at her in interest.
"So, an exchange of information. In the interest of a peaceful holiday season." She looked interested.
"What do you want to know?"
"The inside scoop on a particular stubborn secretive red-head we both know."
"I can do that. Pet's my ex," she shrugged. "He did set me up with someone before he called it quits, so I don't feel too betrayed."
"Really, we'll have to have a little chat about keeping secrets," Scott muttered. He took a drink of the spiced beer. It was really quite good. "So, Xavier's having cybersex with Eric," he said bluntly. She blinked at him. She waved a hand in front of her eyes.
"I didn't think I was that drunk."
"You're not. And Storm's dating Bishop."
"You're shitting me! And you two… for a year?"
"Yup. Now, how well do you know the brat?"
"Oh, he was a kid when I first met him. Barely into his twenties. He spent more time doing stats for the doc than dealing with us. Come to find out of course that he's the one that gave him our names and the one that's providing our information. Doc wouldn't even let him spar full out. Didn't want him to get hurt. Can't figure it. Pet's a real scrapper in hand to hand. Took Creed down even."
"Hmmm. You know how he got involved with…" Scott cut off the question as he saw the thief weaving towards the bar. He ran his hands up Arclight's back and nibbled at her throat.
"Hello, there. Didn't expect to see you here."
"You don't call. You don't write. You'd think you'd forgotten us. You owe me a dance." She turned in his arms and was surprised by the black. She blinked. "You never wear black."
"But wearin' green'd make people think I like this season."
"Looks good." She pressed a leg between his. "Oh, they're playing our song."
"Chere," Remy said as they headed away from the bar, "We don' have a song." She grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. Scott grinned.
//And another woman falls for the charm. Damn. I'm glad I married Jean before he showed up.//
//Kidding me? I was thinkin' I'm gonna have a talk with Jubilee. This whole apprentice thing better not extend to slut lessons.//
Scott snickered quietly and ran a hand through Logan's hair. //Remy's not that stupid.//
//Better not be.//
Arclight and Gambit were doing their level best to ignore all the decency laws. She was plastered against him. One hand resting possessively on his ass, the other tangled in his hair. One of his hands rested on her hip, the other stroked up and down her back. His mouth trailed flame up and down her throat. He bit the area just behind her ear and she shuddered against him. "Fucking vampire."
"Not me, chere. There's others who'll do though." She kissed him, brutally. She licked the blood from his lips.
"That's better. Bruised is always better on you."
"You wound me."
"Not this time. Why aren't you holding back tonight? I haven't seen you this out of control in years." Remy shrugged. Then, he frowned.
"Y' know, I'm not too sure. It's just too much trouble to keep it all in tonight. It feels good to let go. An' they like it. Like me." He kissed her. She tightened her grip on his hair and slid her hand lower as they writhed to the music. Phillipa was surprised as other hands reached out to touch them as they were slowly surrounded by the crowd. A surge of adrenaline pushed through her. She realized that Gambit was enjoying the extra attention. It just wasn't healthy. Then again, she felt him press her as close as possible and the surge of empathic pleasure rushed over her.
She arched back and he licked up the exposed neck and tongued open the top button of her shirt. Her hand traveled up his back and rested on the back of his neck. She gasped as he opened the rest of her shirt carefully. He lapped up the sweet salt of her sweat and ended kissing her. Then, he lifted her out of the arch and spun her so they stood back to chest. He trailed his fingers down her sides finding the hidden knife and gun. He smiled into her hair. "I love a woman who comes prepared," her murmured in her ear. "You come to fight or love?"
"Both, Pet. Whatever I can find."
"Gun-boy not keeping you happy?" he purred as he ran a hand just under her waistband. The skin-warmed leather made her catch her breath. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and whispered into his ear.
"He's out of town. I want to have fun. I gave the stick up the ass a truce for the night. Damn shame. The pretty one in the red dress would make nice eats."
"That's what I love about you, chere. Girl watching." His hand settled on her stomach beneath her jacket and blouse. He fingered the knife there. His other hand rested on her throat. He could feel her pulse strong against his fingertips. "Whatcha wanna do t' her? Y' tell Remy."
"Oh, I'd take her home. Make her think it was a one night stand. I'd use my knife, to make it last. Draw out each agonized breath. I want to hear her scream like bells, like music. I want to see bruises on her pretty white skin. I want her to gasp and know that her last moment is terror and bliss in one," Arclight purred. Remy's hands tightened. He could feel the lust on her. He bit, none to gently, at her collarbone. It would leave a mark. She shuddered. "The big one that's been watching you since I came in here. I want to hear him beg. You can make him beg for me, right?"
"Mebbe, chere. Depend on what he lookin' for."
"In the middle of the dancefloor, where everyone can see." She felt Remy's acknowledgment ruffle her hair. He turned and found that the man she was talking about was still watching him. He wove towards the man. He smiled and pulled him into a close dance. He smiled up in a combination of innocence and deviltry. Arclight had found her pretty one in red and was cooing to her. Remy slid his hands up his anonymous partner's arms. The man was a few inches taller. Remy leaned close as they moved to the music, heartbeats synching. He reached out and tweaked the pure red strand of arousal that twined with the purple red of bloodlust. He amped up the arousal. His partner ground deeper into the dance, urging deeper contact.
Scott put his hands over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."
"Too close to Christmas. Chuck won't go for it."
"I'm not bailing him out." Logan just grinned and gestured for two more beers.
The Cajun was slowly raising the temperature of the arousal. His long fingers danced along the man's zipper and his partner moaned. Remy soaked up the momentary affection. The man's arousal took on a needier edge seconds later as the teasing continued. Eventually, Remy whispered, "Say the magic word."
"Please. Please," the man breathed. He was rewarded by a smile that set the nerves not already tingling on fire. He was shocked when the young man slid down him, making it seem no more than part of the dance. His fingers worked at the fly as he slid back up one leg. His fingers brushed the warm flesh, and the man, too close came harshly. He shuddered and tucked himself back in, forgetting where he was and what had happened. Remy blinked innocently at the other dancers. Arclight smirked at him and offered her hand. They were laughing by the time they hit the bar.
"Another and one for my ex." Scott frowned as the bartender added the sugar to Remy's vodka, but not Arclight's. He slammed his hand over the top of the glass before Remy could lift it.
"What de fuck?" Gambit snapped. "Y' no' my father."
"No. But I want to know what exactly Buddy here has been feeding you." The barman shrugged.
"Nothing harmful."
"How the fuck would you know?" Arclight snapped. No way Sinister's pet was getting hurt on her watch. "How much and what was it?"
"Just something to loosen him up."
"Like he's ever needed that," Scott snorted. "What was it?" he growled a quite convincing growl and Remy stared at him.
"Y' need t' stop hangin' with mon ami over dere." He waved a negligent hand at Logan. "What's de big deal?"
"Did you ask for it?" Remy shook his head.
"Remy don' speedball now. Too dangerous t' loose control."
"Does the drunk you're on feel normal?"
"Non."
"So my question stands. What have you been giving him?"
"Chill out. It's just ecstasy. It's not like it's gonna hurt him." Arclight and Scott couldn't help it, they started to laugh.
"You have no fucking idea what you've just done," Philippa said flatly, laughter gone just as quickly. She snapped a quick punch to his nose and the man fell. Remy peeked over the bar.
"He's still breat'ing. Y' losin' y' touch."
"I told you. Truce."
"Too bad," Scott stated. The manager stormed towards them. Scott leveled the man with an impassive frown. Remy groaned.
"Non, Scotty. Don'. Don' start somet'ing. It feel so good here right now."
"I'm not starting anything."
"What exactly is going on here?" the manager demanded. He was an impressive figure, but Scott was used to dealing with much more dangerous foe. He didn't speak for a long moment.
"I'm deciding whether or not to call the police," he stated coldly. "Your bartender here has been putting ecstasy in his drinks. That is completely unacceptable."
"Scott," Remy hissed as the anger hit him in the gut. He couldn't stop the magnifying effect. He tried to reach for the strand of purple-red to calm it, but he couldn't. He took a deep breath. He was not going to get pulled into this. If he did, there would be a brawl. The manager's head came up defensively.
"You cannot prove that, young man."
"You think not? I think if I called the cops right now and they raided the stash behind the counter they'd have some interesting things to say. Especially if we get someone to test this drink here." The manager's nostril's flared.
"Somehow I doubt you want the police here, considering your friend's reputation." Scott smiled. It was his fighting smile. Remy reached out to touch the older man's arm, but Arclight stopped him in mid motion. She was colder than ice behind him. Her emotions had been neatly channeled out of his reach through years of practice.
"Really?"
"Scott, no problem here, man. We just spread the word that the place sells spiked drinks. Between the four of us we know enough people to make sure it gets to everyone in the city. We'll just drive the bastard out of business," Philippa proposed. Scott considered.
"Hmmm. I like it. Not as much as I'd appreciate seeing him shamed before a judge, but it has appeal."
"Come on, kid. Let's getcha home and have the doc look over ya," Logan said taking Remy's arm. Scott threw down a twenty on the counter. And left the room. The crisis abated, Remy couldn't resist. He sought out as many of the strands of disgust and discontent with the bar as he could and wrenched them up. They weren't the only group leaving. And the rumor mill was already starting.
"The Jeep? Y' gon' t' freeze po' Remy."
"Shut up and get in. Now," Scott snapped. "I leave a perfectly good, warm bed and haul your ass out of trouble and all I get is complaining. I don't think so." Logan pressed the leather jacket into Remy's hands.
"Mebbe Remy go home wit' Lippa." He grinned. "An' her pretty one in red." The boys had to look. Sure enough, the slender woman in red that had demanded a dance from Remy when Scott had first arrived was talking to the Marauder.
"I do not like that development."
"Chere, y' gon' t' hurt her feelings."
"Oh, I doubt that." Remy blinked. Scott didn't usually get catty.
"What's wrong?" Scott didn't answer.
"Get in the car."
"But."
"Now, Gambit. That's an order." The Cajun gaped at him, then climbed into the car. He folded his hands in his lap. Scott tossed the keys to Logan. "You're driving."
"Hey, wait a second!" Arclight called over. "Don't I get a goodnight kiss?" Remy leaned out the door and she came over to get her kiss. Scott shut his eyes. The anger wasn't dissipating. That was unusual. That was dangerous. The Marauder waved over her shoulder at them and took her new friend home. Remy shook his head.
"Dat's no' good. Better check de police reports t'morrow."
"Do you think she'll hurt her?"
"Remy know she wan' t'. But he no' so sure she's no' just talk t'night." He focused on her back. There was nothing there, but cold purpose. "Bah! Can' read de femme anymore." He frowned. "She wants to hear the music of screams and watch the blooming beauty of the bruises," he whispered.
"What?!" Scott snapped as he climbed in. "Wolverine, follow them. Now, talk to me. What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Beauty of death. Lust is lust with death or without." Remy rubbed his temples. "She's hiding her emotions. Most people never learn to shield them, but Gambit taught her. Gambit taught dem all." The odd blending of British with Cajun was making Scott's head ache.
"Of all the accents in the world, why the hell did you pick up Sinister's?"
"Because he need a lab assistant when buildin' up his cover, chere. And dis po' Cajun not good 'nough f' dat. She's a pretty one dough, ain't she. Bet she screams real nice." Scott stared at him. "An' when Lippa be killin' her, who she dinkin' of? Not de pretty. Non. She dinkin' o' her boy? Non, she be dinkin' o' you, Cyke. She be dinkin', wonder if he gon' t' play, or go home. He know dat I be here? He know dat I gonna kill 'er? An' y' gonna stop 'er. Y' gonna walk in an' take 'er down afore dere be too much trouble. She drawin' it out anyway. Be more fun t' fight someone who fight her back. She want t' fight in de club. But she wan' t' really fight, not worry 'bout de death she could cause because she give y' her word and dat's de only ding dat means anyt'ing in our world." Logan looked up sharply at the "our" part. The red eyes were very far away. "Remy get t'rough 'er shields, M. Scott. She gon' t' kill afterwards. After she get de sex. An' mebbe she won'." The thief reached for the strands, but they were whisked out of his reach. The anger in Scott burned so brightly and Logan's bloodlust was beginning to boil. Scott twisted in his seat to look at the younger man.
"Lay down. You're crashing."
"No shit."
//Logan,// Scott said, //something's gone haywire around here.//
//That why you're angry enough to beat the bitch to death?//
//Probably. What do we know about his empathy?//
//Shit all.//
//Fuck me.//
//Later.//
//Allow me to rephrase that. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Why me?//
//Because yer the responsible one.//
//Asshole.//
//Thought you liked that.//
//I'm trying to work off anger here… Aw what the hell. So, we neutralize Arclight and then I fuck you into next week. Work?//
//I'm open to suggestions.//
//Agreed then. She's turning up ahead.//
//I see 'er. I'm gonna pass by and turn up the next block. She knows were followin'. Have ta be blind not to. She's too much of a pro for that.//
"If'n y' don' turn up de heat, Gambit gonna charge de seats," a voice threatened them.
"Cold?" Scott asked, unsympathetically. "Suck it up. You're the reason we're out here in the first place."
"Non. Y' no' blamin' dis on moi! Y' blame Raven."
"Fine. I blame you because you're Raven's date."
"Bastard."
"Brat." //I'd much rather be doing this in the Danger Room. //
//It'll work out. Maybe the bitch is just toying with us.// Remy curled up on the seat further.
"Remy hate de cold. Dis whole damn state be too cold."
"This from the man who went to Washington State University?"
"And de professeur have a big mout'."
"I'm team leader. I need to know these things. And you aren't the most talkative creature on the planet unless it's gossip." Remy pouted, but the effect was lost in the darkness. The pulled up in front of the house a few houses away from their quarry. The car they had been following was empty and there was a light on in the upper window. "How close do you have to be to read someone?" Scott demanded. The red-head blinked at him slowly.
"Closer dan dis."
"Then get closer. Find out what's happening without being seen. Think you can handle that?"
"Remy been stakin' out buildin's since y' be a t'ief." So saying he climbed over them. The rush of anger from touching Scott made him pause. "Don' let her draw y' in when y' fight her. Make sure y' get too close f' her t' use her powers. Or be off de ground fast. Kick 'er. She won' be 'spectin' it from y'," he stated. "Here. Y' gon' t' need dis more'n me." He handed the man he'd grudgingly accepted as his boss a knife. "Don' stop 'til she's no' breat'ing. She most dangerous when she be hurt. Den she can' control." He left them before Scott could reply.
"Should I be worried?" Scott asked.
"Yup."
"You're looking forward to this, aren't you?"
Logan grinned. It wasn't a comforting grin. "Don't tell me ya don't want a swipe at her. Ya gotta kill her, boss. Ain't gonna work any other way."
"I am not a killer."
"Ya better be ready to kill that bitch, cuz she's gonna be gunnin' fer yer blood."
"I am not going to kill her."
"Yeah, ya are. Ya just don't know it yet."
"This conversation is officially closed."
"Y' can have y' spat later, dey're in de middle o' dings, an' Lippa's startin' t' loose it. Y' better come wit' me." Remy yanked open the door. He led them to the front door and opened it with a lock-pick as easily as he would have with a key. He gestured them in. "Dey upstairs," he whispered.
*****
Arclight ran her hands down the slender ribs appreciatively. The pretty one, whose name was Rose, had nearly perfect creamy white skin. Her pretty red lips were open and she gasped in appreciative gasps. Her wrists were secured with a silk scarf. It had been her own suggestion. Her own stupidity. Arclight smiled down at her. It was lust-filled, but not for the reason's Rose supposed. Laid out like a feast of milky white, she was not ready for the knife blade to stroke down her body.
"Flip, we didn't say anything about knives!" Arclight kissed her.
"It's going to be the thrill of your life." She straddled the young woman's hips and stroked down the center of her chest with the flat of the blade.
"Flip, please," she begged. The tip of the knife rested under her chin for a moment.
"Just scream," she told her. Rose whimpered, too afraid to open her mouth into the knife. There was a pounding on the bedroom door. "Who the fuck?" Arclight muttered. Then, she smiled. "Come on in, Boyscout. Out to do your good deed for the night?" She asked Scott. She pressed the blade into the pale white skin, drawing a thin line of blood. "Can you get to me before I kill her?" she asked, voice dropping into a husky undertone.
"Oh, I think so."
"Ooooh, a challenge. I underestimated you. That doesn't happen often. Maybe screwing the mad dog is doing you some good." The knife danced along Rose's sternum between her breasts leaving a trail of blood. The young woman sobbed. Cyclops didn't hesitate. He lowered his glasses and hit her with his optical blast, quickly snapping them back into place as she flew across the room and into the wall. Remy moved immediately to the young woman's side. He released her wrists and held her as she sobbed. He gently wiped up the blood with his handkerchief, glad for the habit of wearing gloves. The knife cuts had been light. There would be no scarring and no permanent damage.
"Oh, God, I didn't know. I didn't know. She seemed so nice."
"Monsters are everywhere. I'm sorry, chere. I'm so sorry." He rocked her. "Everyt'ing be okay now. Do y' wan' t' press charges?"
"No, no. I just… get rid of her. Make sure she doesn't come back."
"We do that, chere. Y' f'get dat y' seen us?" Remy used what little control of the charm he currently had to urge that solution. She nodded. He spun out a small part of the shield he used to incur forgetfulness and she fell asleep.
Meanwhile, Scott had Arclight thrown out the window and to the grass out back. She lay stunned for a moment as he jumped down after her. She leapt to her feet, still armed with her knife. She crooked a finger at him. "Come on, Punk." Scott's eyes narrowed and he felt a feral smile worth of Logan cross his lips. She blinked, but matched his smile. Suddenly, she lunged for the ground. Scott leapt at the same instant, sailing into her as she sent out a shockwave and connecting with her forehead. He straddled her and pounded her down. She fought back, splitting his lip. Her left arm was broken and she scrabbled for purchase in his hair. She threw him off of her, but her attack was reversed by a quick move to flip her. She was stunned and trembled with a combination of lust, anger and hate. She forced herself into a crouch. Scott threw himself at her before she could gather the strength to create another shockwave. He felt her ribs give way beneath him and she coughed up blood. Stunned she stared at him with wide eyes. She smiled as she died. Logan and Remy gave him a polite round of applause as he wiped the blood from his lips and staggered to his feet. The anger was gone now.
//What the fuck do we do now? I'm not trained for this!// Logan grinned.
"Come on, Cajun. We got a body t' move."
"Remy get de bag."
"Good. I'll make sure the bitch is going to stay dead." He slammed his claws through her chest. Then, he calmly cut off her fingers and punched in her teeth. Remy laid out the body bag.
"T'ought I wouldn' be doin' dis anymore," he muttered. He and Logan shifted the body into the bag and zipped it closed. Scott watched with bland disinterest. "Take care o' y' boy," Remy said. "Remy move de rest."
Logan wrapped his arms around his lover and held him as the actual shock took hold. //I killed her.//
//Yup.//
//I killed her.//
//You did.//
//Holy shit. I just killed her.//
//She'll be cloned in no time.//
//I killed a woman. //
//And yer not gonna panic on me are you?//
//I'm still considering options. I feel giddy.//
//Heady stuff, killin'. 'specially someone who needs killin'.//
//I think I'm going to be violently ill, very soon. This is totally unacceptable.//
"Where de fingers and de teet'?"
"Over there."
"Merci." Remy gathered them and charged them. They exploded with small pops that didn't do more than melt some ice. Scott was covered with snow, Remy realized. He wondered if Logan had taken that into consideration. He hauled the body onto his shoulder and out to the car, praying that everyone else was smart enough to be in bed at 2 in the morning. Damn his head ached.
//Come on, Slim. Gotta get home.//
//There's a body in the back of your car.// Scott thought he was being very calm for the situation.
//I know, Cyke. I know. Come on, Scott. Get in the car before I put you in it.//
//I have the distinct impression that I should be very worried right now.//
//Nope, Gumbo and I will take care of this from here on out.//
//I just committed murder!//
//Self-defense.//
//Not in this country.//
//No one's going to ask and if there's no body, no one's going to care.//
//But…//
//Let it go.//
//I can't just forget!//
//Let go.//
//I can't!//
//Scream, cry, have a complete hysterical episode, just do it before we get asked to go with the cops for being out at this time of night.// "The body hidden, Kid?"
"Oui, Old Man. Jus' drive." Scott's guilt was pulsing through the car now. Remy drew it in without thinking. Guilt he knew very well. He replaced the guilt with lust, his usual fall back. Scott felt a weird vertigo as his guilt got pushed to the back. His relief at surviving the encounter surged to the forefront, accompanied by the urge to reconfirm his existence by pounding Logan into the mattress a few hundred times, or until he collapsed whichever came first.
*****
Scott was startled when they pulled up at the back end of a forest that he didn't recognize. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. Remy dragged the body out of the back and onto his shoulder. He let Logan lead the way and they left her carved into pieces along the sides of the forest. She would be eaten by the starving carrion animals and that would remove the evidence before it was bothered by any hunters. Remy destroyed the bag. "Think he's gonna be okay?" he asked Logan.
"Maybe. I just wanna get him home. He's not used ta this."
Remy nodded. He stumbled a little and cursed the tree roots. Logan grabbed his arm. Remy shook him off, embarrassed more than angry. He curled up in the back of the Jeep. "Remy hates de cold," he whispered into the night. The Mansion loomed large as they sped towards it and he shivered. There wasn't enough of anything to block out the lingering grief and pain.
"Ya distract Chuck?"
"Oui, Logan. Get 'im cleaned up. Den y' can face de music." Remy took a deep breath and wove along the front hall towards the kitchen. Professor Xavier was there. He was frowning. Remy wriggled his fingers at him. The room started to shift and he planted himself in an available chair. "Alo, Proffeseur."
"Remy. Have you seen Scott and Logan?"
"Oui. Dey gonna have a shower. Den dey come down. It be too late t' go t' bed wit' Bobby and Jubes in de house." Charles waved his hand in front of the wide red eyes. They didn't seem to react. He sighed.
"What on earth have you taken?"
"Not'ing. Well, not'ing I wanted t'. De bartender drugged m' drinks. Scotty found out an' der was a scene." The professor suppressed his sigh.
//Hank?// He roused the doctor. //Join me in the front hall please.//
*****
Scott leaned against the wall of the shower. It was starting to thaw out some of his extremities. That felt nice. What felt better was the pair of hands that had decided that he was too tired to wash himself. Yes, those felt very nice. Logan snickered at the sappy grin his lover was wearing. //Like that?//
//Hmmm… nice…//
//I'm gonna take that as a 'yes.'//
Logan ran his hands up Scott's sides, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. He felt the heart beating under his fingers. Scott's hands slid down Logan's arms until they located his shoulders. From there they continued until they stroked the line of his jaw harshly. Then, quicker than Logan was expecting, the taller man leaned down and kissed him. The slight tang of copper mingled with the heady taste that was pure Scott. They molded together beneath the pulse of hot water.
The link opened and the world was swallowed in steam as Scott could feel himself through Logan's fingers and Logan could taste the forest that was his own mouth. Heat and blood and fear and lust mingled together, driving their heartbeats up. Somehow, they managed to get from the bathroom to Logan's bedroom without releasing one another and fell onto the bed.
Scott straddled Logan's body, pinning him gently as he leaned in for a kiss. His mouth continued down until it located one of Logan's nipples making him groan in pleasure. He continued his travels, kissing and biting along the solid muscles of his stomach and a series of gentle kisses along the hard, red cock he located at the end of the expanse of salty skin. Scott gripped the hands that he knew longed to bury themselves in his hair and hold him to the task. He drew back, settling one hand on Logan's cock and the other stroking along Logan's thighs. He was startled when the tube of half-used lube was pressed into his hand.
He grinned and prepared his partner. //Just hurry up. Fer God's sake!//
Scott crooked his finger over Logan's prostrate and he arched up to increase the contact. Scott pressed in slowly, loving the heat and the connection. The link made it impossible to mistake the low growls that Logan was making. He moved deeper until he was firmly seated.
The sweetest bliss of knowing his partner inside and out sent warm waves through Scott's body until they centered at his groin. He felt Logan's cock against his stomach as he leaned forward for a quick kiss. "Move! God damn ya, just move!" Scott did. He drove in and out in an erratic pattern until he felt Logan's desire sink with his, driving him into a steady, quickening, pattern. He drove deep once, and Logan, crying out as he came, milked the last drops of orgasm from his lover's cock with clenched muscles. Scott collapsed on top of him. It wasn't long enough before they separated.
"Gonna need another shower before we see the professor," Scott sighed.
"I'll go first. Yer gonna need yer rest."
*****
Hank was getting frustrated. Remy had point blank refused to go to the lab. "Henri," the patient stated finally, "De lab be dark 'nough wit'out Remy cluttering it up wit' more emotions. Remy can' control right now. De bad come in and get reflected back out." His mouth shut with a sudden snap.
"And I believe, my Cajun friend, that bloodwork is the only way to determine the level of drug currently in your system and to prepare for any unusual side effects."
"It be ecstasy. Dere's a lot left. An' de side effects hurt only m' shielding an' control o' de empat'y. Dere's not'ing y' can tell t'rough blood." The professor sighed.
"Remy," he began.
"Non! Dere's no need f' him t' be stickin' me wit' sharp dings. Pah, docteurs be de same. Dey be vampires."
"Remy!" Xavier snapped. The young man pouted and crossed his arms firmly across his chest. The professor narrowed his eyes. Was that blood on his throat? "Who's blood is that?" Remy looked at him in confusion. "On your throat?" Remy rubbed it away. He shrugged.
"Arclight's" Hank and Charles straightened.
"You ran into the Marauders?" Xavier questioned. Remy rolled his eyes.
"Non, jus' Philippa. Don' worry. She not gonna cause any trouble t'night." He slumped in his seat. "Y' mind if Remy go get a coupla hours sleep now?"
"Yes." Remy stuck his tongue out.
"Bastard."
They were interrupted by Scott coming down the stairs. He nodded to the professor and Hank, then grabbed Remy's collar and shook him. The Cajun blinked at him. "What did you do with my guilt?"
Remy was startled. "Quoi?"
"My guilt is missing. I want it back. Now."
"Can' do dat, cher." Remy crossed his arms again. "Y' don' need t' be feelin' guilty over somet'ing y' needed t' do."
"I did not need…"
"She gonna kill de pretty one. Dat's known. She gonna kill y'. Dat's known. Derefore, she needed killin'."
"She did not…"
"Like M. Sinister not gonna kill 'er when she get back t' his lab anyway? She attack his golden chile. He kill 'er wit'out a t'ought. An' might no' even bring 'er back. She a Marauder. She love de fight and de blood."
"My guilt is what separates me from them. I don't like being manipulated. Undo whatever you did."
"It' no' be dat simple!"
"Why not?" Scott narrowed his focus. Remy swallowed.
"Remy don' 'member what he did," the younger mutant muttered. Scott shook him again. "Remy didn' plan it!"
"But Remy is going to fix it. Scott knows he can." The red eyes narrowed and his lips thinned.
"Y' no' gonna like it. Y' don' hold it 'gainst Remy."
"Do as you're told." Remy grabbed the man and kissed him, making the split lip bleed once more. Then, he pushed him away.
"Run," Scott stated and Gambit did so. It wasn't a big enough head start. The tackle was expected, the arm under his throat was not. The pretty shining claws, definitely hadn't been a part of the equation. Gambit stilled instantly and held his breath. "Logan, no! Let him go!" Scott yelled.
"Why? Kid needs t' be taught a lesson about takin' what ain't his." Gambit hoped that Scott had figured it out.
"He was doing what he was told. For once in his life, he was following orders." The tableau was frozen by the high-pitched wavering cry of a baby coming from the parlor. Logan released his captive, who followed the rest of them into the parlor. They located the baby in a picnic basket.
*****
"To Scott and Logan. From Sinister. There's more, but I can't make it out," Scott said as Logan picked up the baby and settled it on his shoulder.
"She's hungry and wet."
"Damn. Someone has to go shopping. This is going to cost a mint." Remy had taken his reprieve from death as tacit approval and was looking in the tree for something. "You and I are going to have a long talk, Mr. LeBeau," Scott stated without looking at him, "in the Danger Room."
"Putain."
"Watch your mouth," Xavier snapped. "There's a child present."
"Who be below de age of language acquisition." Hank raised a brow. "Don' say it, Henri." Remy plucked out a cream colored envelope. He opened it and sighed. He went to the intercom. "Jubilee, come to de parlor." The youngest… second youngest mutant didn't question and was dressed in battle gear and in the room seconds later. Remy held up a platinum credit card. "Shopping. Y' drivin'. Get de keys from de garage. We takin' de van."
"The letter," Charles demanded. Remy handed it over. The professor sighed. "Translation."
"Go shoppin' f' de bebe. On Sinister's account." Remy tapped the card. "Destroy de card after t'night." He shrugged. "De rest be a list f' de bebe."
"Don't get into trouble."
"Dat's why de petite be drivin'." Gambit and Jubilee left the room.
"You're just going to let him walk out?" Scott demanded.
"Logan," Xavier said off-hand, "what's the military term for a thief?"
"Supply officer," Logan grinned. Scott rolled his eyes to the heavens. He reached for the guilt. It wasn't back to it's previous strength, but at least he could feel it. Definitely time for a long, private, bloody talk. //Slim? Stop thinking about killin' him. Yer the one that stopped me.//
//I'm not going to kill him. Just hit him a couple of times. Unless he answers my questions. We're down two team members. Cable and Rachel haven't agreed to stay on full time. No more fucking secrets in this team. That goes for Betsy too.//
//Ya like danger doncha?//
//I love you don't I?//
//Yer feelin' guilty again.//
//Yeah. I am.// Scott smiled. //Thank God. Too bad I have to deal with that after we find out what's up with this little one.//
"Is there anything else in our new friend's manger?" Hank asked, reaching out for the basket. He discovered the birth certificate.
"Rachel Summers. Born December 24. Father: Scott Summers Mother: Jean Summers"
*****
Scott wanted nothing more than to be able to have five minutes alone, but that wouldn't happen until after dinner. Not on Christmas. He was sitting in the parlor reporting to the professor. Shit, he'd hoped he'd be over feeling like a schoolboy any time he did something he wasn't sure the professor would approve of. So far the older man hadn't said anything, merely nodded. It was strange. He was letting Scott actually talk as opposed to just taking the incidents out of his head. That was his normal pattern when it came to these things. Then again, he'd never consciously killed someone before. There were some accidents when he was younger that had hurt people, but that was totally different than crushing a woman's ribs into her lungs so she drowned in her own blood. Scott shivered.
His hands got cold. He could distantly hear his own voice over the pounding of the blood in his head. He trailed to a stop, discussing how Logan and Remy had removed the evidence and convinced him to try to forget it had ever happened. He clenched his jaw to force himself to concentrate and finish the last of the story. His throat closed up before he could speak again. "I killed her," he whispered. He closed his eyes to contain the nausea. He felt the professor's hand on his shoulder.
"I know. The first one is always the hardest. Why don't I get you some tea?"
"Because it won't make it into my stomach," Scott snipped back. He clamped a hand over his mouth. "I… need to think."
"I don't think that would be the best idea. Stay with someone. If not me, then Logan, or Hank. Or for that matter, Bobby. Even Sam, who's up and pining after Jubilee." Scott sighed.
"There's nothing left to say."
"Except what it felt like." Scott looked at him sharply. That was not a normal question coming from the professor. Charles Xavier never gave a damn what Cyclops was feeling, only if he did the job. There was something in the tone of the voice.
"What part of it?"
"All of it. What did it feel like when you watched her smile through the blood as she died?" Scott stared at him. He swallowed to keep his stomach where it was supposed to be. It settled into its normal position with a leaden thud. He stared at the man he'd considered a father. At the moment, he didn't love him all that much. In fact, he was well on his way towards disliking him, almost heading towards hate. Why wouldn't the man leave it? "Tell me."
"Satisfying." Scott wanted something a little more familiar around him than the parlor that he only entered during holidays. He closed his eyes and thought of the comfort of his office. The dart board behind his mahogany desk with the picture of Madeline on it, the worn leather blotter, the seemingly haphazard maps and charts pinned to his walls, the pictures of his family on his bookshelf, even the familiar pattern of green and navy blue on the walls. He wanted to be sitting in his grey leather chair and staring out the windows at the lake and boathouse. He didn't want to be providing details of a murder, his murder. Murder, he thought suddenly, should be a private thing. He frowned at the professor who was watching him.
"And?"
"Sickening."
"And?"
"What the hell do you want?"
"I want to know what it felt like when her ribs gave way under your fist."
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Because you can do it yourself if you're so damn interested in what it felt like."
"I think you're language has deteriorated. You might want to consider spending more time with Storm or Hank." Scott let him change the subject. They sat watching the tree as the baby fussed in Logan's arms. Scott wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to look at red and white quite the same way. He was going to see white skin dappled with red blood. Red lipstick was definitely out. Maybe he could make that a rule for the team. No red lipstick allowed in the mansion. Yeah, right, Betsy'd bounce him into the wall next time they sparred. No candy canes after Christmas. He might be able to come up with a convincing one for that. The colored lights seemed to swim in his sight. He blinked, but the tree wouldn't come into focus. Okay, that was a bad sign. He couldn’t remember if she'd hit him in the head at some point. Maybe he'd better have Hank…
"Come on, Slim. Hank's gonna check yer skull," Logan informed him, pulling him to his feet.
*****
Jubilee stared at the man in the passenger's seat of the van. They'd already hit the 24-hour grocery store. "We're gonna heist a furniture store?" she asked just to clarify.
"Non, we gonna leave dem a credit card number. We're just gonna go in before dey open. Dis is an emergency."
"Emergency."
"De furniture gonna be paid f'."
"Okay. So, like, how do we do this?"
"Y' tell me."
"Great. It's Christmas morning and I've got to take a test. Ya got a lotta nerve, bub." He just smiled at her. "God, I hope baldy doesn't get pissed."
"Not goin' on his card." This time Jubilee couldn't hide the smile. She took a deep breath and got out of the car.
*****
"You seem to be fine, Fearless. However, I would suggest that you get some rest. I would also suggest that you talk to…"
"Shut it, Hank. I ain't talking to anyone about this."
"The professor was correct I see. You're vocabulary is deteriorating." Scott snorted.
"Naw, you're just noticing it now. Where's the baby?"
"I've placed her in the incubator, with a substitute diaper. I've started the DNA tests. We should know shortly if she is indeed the Rachel Summer's we have come to know and love. If she is, then we know what her powers will be and will be able to teach her to harness them quickly."
"What's all the noise?" Bobby asked, scratching at his unshaved chin, a Santa hat perched atop barely brushed hair. He was dressed in penguin flannel pajamas. Scott stared at him. He couldn't help it. He started to laugh. Too much stress and too little sleep attacked him, leaving his ribs aching from his laughter. Logan snorted and made sure he didn't fall off of the examination table.
"Please," Scott gasped, "change before present time. You missed the excitement. There's a baby from under the tree. Maybe we should change her name. Holly? Or Christmas maybe?" he said aloud. //Shut up, Cyke.//
//Oh, hi, you talkin' to me again?//
//I never stopped.// Logan was confused.
//Right. Haven't heard you since…// Scott shook his head. //I'm skipping times I think. I though I just heard Jean.//
//Just me.//
//Oh, okay. Hi, Logan. Read any good books lately.//
//Nope. Didja hear the one about the nun and the royal jewels?//
//~Snicker~ I think so. I'm losing it aren't I?//
//Yep. I think so. Want me to take ya to yer office?//
//The professor doesn’t want me alone. You gonna stay with?//
//As long as you need. You gonna talk to me about things?//
//Maybe. Logan, do you remember the first person you killed?//
//I'm not too sure, Slim. Come on, let's go. //
"We'll be in my office if anyone gets curious," Scott informed Hank and Bobby. The Iceman was still blinking at him.
"Oooookay, Hankster, you've got some explaining to do."
"Sit down, Bobby. This is complicated."
*****
Jubilee looked down at the man slumped on the floor of the garage. "This is so not good." She ran a hand through her hair. //Chuck! I need some help here.//
//Jubilation, what is the matter?//
//Remy's passed out.//
//I'll send someone down to pick him up.//
Cable looked down at the Cajun. "What hit him?"
"Drugs."
"Should've known."
"Not by choice, asshole." Cable grinned.
"I know." He tapped his head. He carried the unconscious man down to the med-lab.
*****
//You need to sleep, Scott. We'll change the schedule for the morning.//
//I'm not tired.//
//Sleep.// Scott slept. Logan took him to the infirmary. It would be the best place to keep an eye on him.
*****
Gambit rubbed his eyes. He saw Scott asleep on the bed next to his. "What happened t' Fearless?"
"The professor put him to sleep." The red eyes widened.
"No' like a puppy! De boy didn' do not'in' dat… Remy still drunk ain' he?"
"Yes, Remy," Hank said with a smile.
"Oh."
"So, Cajun, how long were you a Marauder?"
"A year or so." Logan studied him like a cat with a mouse. Remy didn't like the implications there. "What?"
"Why'd ya join the X-men?"
"To protect Stormy." Remy shrugged. "Mebbe to pay back a lil' bit."
"Why stay?"
"Dere be Roguie here, an' her mama ask Remy t' look out f' her. Den, he want t' stay wit' her. Not'in' much beyond dat."
"And the dream?" Remy snorted.
"Dreams be dreams, no' reality."
"So why fight?" Hank was sitting fascinated. He'd never heard the boy so open. He expected it was the drugs.
"Like fightin'."
"But if you don't care about the dream…"
"Carin' jus' getcha hurt. Y' know dat." Logan's eyes narrowed.
"Carin's what makes it worth the fightin', bub." Remy snorted.
"Dat's bullshit, homme. Dere's not'in' dat makes it wort' it."
"It wouldn't hurt if ya didn't care. So ya didn't care 'bout Rogue." The red eyes narrowed.
"Don' talk in circles t'night."
"Why did you stay after Rogue died?"
"No place else t' go. An' dere's projects left undone." Remy blinked. Logan shook his head. Why wouldn't the man get angry? He could see the anger quite clearly, but Logan's voice remained calm and his claws were sheathed.
Logan cocked his head to the side. "Ya can't lie ta me, Gambit. Shit, kid, yer lyin' ta yerself ain't ya?" He shook his head. "Don't do it. Don't pretend ya don't care or it's gonna eat ya up inside. Ya care." Remy did get angry, at himself, for letting it slip, for letting Wolverine be able to read him. "Why did ya stay?"
"Didn' have anywhere else ta go. Wanna be here ta watch y' boy die." That ought to do it, blast away the grief and guilt with anger. Logan held his anger in check. Remy knew that he wasn't angry. He was just picking up on Logan's emotions. "Wanna blow somet'ing up," he muttered.
"Yer hidin'. Just give me a straight answer. The team needs ta know they can count on ya." The red eyes widened. A cold twist of fear invaded his stomach.
"Hank. Dere's somet'ing wrong wit' Logan."
"Nothin' wrong with me."
"Dere's somet'ing wrong wit' Logan. An' dere's somet'ing wrong wit' Scotty. He growlin'. An' de Wolverine, he not letttin' 'is anger go."
"You're still drugged, Remy," Hank said softly.
"M. Bete! Dere's somet'in' wrong here. He just started askin' f' de good o' de team! Dat's Scotty's line."
"Just give me an answer. Why don't you care?" The voice was soft. The colors were affectionate and trusting. Remy swallowed and tried to get away from the question. He felt Hank settle a hand on his shoulder and was nearly overwhelmed by sensations. He shrugged the hand off. He looked at the still unconscious Scott. "Answer me," the voice rasped again. Bobby bopped into the room and there was too much information.
"Y' jus' gonna die!" Remy snapped. "All o' y'. Jus' like Rogue and Jeannie and Bella and Jenny and Jack and Pete." He made himself into as small of a target as possible and slammed up stronger shields to block out the emotions. Or was that to hold in the emotions? "Jus' de drugs, pup. Jus' de drugs," he whispered. "Y' be fine in de mornin'."
Bobby left the room, chewing on his lip. Grief and depression were bad on Christmas. Very bad. Time to drag the professor downstairs.
Logan pulled in his claws. "That wasn't all that hard now was it."
"Fuckin' bastard." Remy was rocking slightly. Hank squeezed his shoulder. Logan crawled into bed with his lover and went to sleep. "I hate you," Remy whispered.
"Would you prefer to rest in your own room?" Hank asked, gently. The Cajun nodded and ran from the room. //Hank, where is Gambit?//
//Heading to his room. Logan… pushed a little harder than was probably clever, but I didn’t realize it until too late. //
//I'll check on him.//
*****
Hank didn't know that Gambit was in the professor's room. Xavier looked at the young man huddled under a quilt. He looked miserable. And so completely different than the young man that had been looking for his cufflinks earlier in the evening. He was still wearing those cufflinks. Only his boots had been abandoned by the end of the bed. Charles looked over his bridged fingertips. "Are you going to help me into bed?" The real question was, will you allow yourself to touch me. Gambit helped him with the clinical precision that had made Jean's minstrations so easy to deal with. But once the professor was settled onto the bed, the younger mutant let a single tear escape. Xavier wiped it off. "Tell me?"
"It's all dark." The drugs should have forced him to sleep by now. But Gambit was a mutant and thus "should haves" rarely applied. Xavier patted the bed. Remy sat. "All purple and black. De grief an' de hatred dey so close. But dis be de sad more'n anyt'ing. Dere's little purple in de color. It's charcoal. Dark grey everywhere, can' see past it no more." Xavier stroked a long strand of hair out of the boy's face.
"Have you lowered your shields?"
"Dat's what causin' de problem!"
"Lay down, Remy." //Sleep.// The young man collapsed into sleep.
*****
Scott groaned as Bobby's voice blared from the intercom speakers. "Gooooood morning, Xavier's School for the Gifted. It's present time! No time like the present for presents. Just so you nighthawks know, we've postponed this until 10:30 this morning. See, I told my favorite furry blueberry I'd let you sleep. And I have! Get up! Get up! Jingle Bells. Jingle Bells. Jingle All The Way.!" Scott put the pillow over his face.
"I think my head is about to explode." Logan grinned.
"Come on, Cyke. Hank's upstairs. Gotta keep him from killin' the icecube."
"Right, like Hank's gonna kill him. Betsy on the other hand, might decide to carve him into little bits."
*****
The parlor was full of a motley assortment of sleepwear and streetwear as one could ever hope to see. Bobby had not changed from his penguin PJ's, even though he had deigned to shave. Henry was now wearing the Santa cap with his lab coat. Bobby was cuddled on his lap, having the unfortunate effect of making Henry look like a giant teddy bear. Granted with fangs, but it was still disconcerting. Jubilee was perched on Sam's lap, wearing silk pajamas with fireworks all over them. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. Scott was still dressed in the clothes he was wearing the night before. As was Logan. The professor was dressed in a suit. Leaning against his chair was a very disheveled Gambit, and Jubilee had to suppress her giggles.
Storm was wrapped in her favorite cotton robe. Bishop was dressed for guard duty. Betsy was in pink fuzzy slippers and a terry cloth robe that bore Warren's initials. Warren was in kakhi's and a suit shirt. It wasn't clear why they were up. Cable and Rachel looked neat, but nervous. This was their first exposure to the Xavier Christmas morning.
"I'm passing out!" Jubilee stated and went to the pile of packages. Scott leaned into Logan's embrace and sighed