"Sugah, Ah can't believe they're makin' me wash dishes! Yah always wash!"
"But M. Bete t'reatened t' tie me t' de med-lab bed if'n I get de splints wet again."
"That could be interestin'," Rogue smiled. Remy took a step back.
"Non. Not in de med-lab it ain't." Rogue looked at the rubber gloves on the counter with distaste.
"Ah still don't see why ya can't do the washin'. The gloves'll protect yahr fingers."
"Dey're taped t'gether, chere." He held up the splinted fingers. He still wasn't about to explain how he'd broken his ring-finger. No one needed to know about his discussions with Mystique just yet. Not even her daughter. Well, considering the discussions, especially not her daughter. Rogue crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "It's not dat hard, chere. Honest." Her brows raised. She put on the rubber gloves over her usual satin.
"Fine, Swamp Rat. Ah'll do them this time. But don't go tryin' ta wiggle outta things next time."
"Gambit sure t' be healed by den." He tested the temperature of the water for her. It was a little too chill. He turned it up and flicked his wet fingers at her. She tossed her hair.
“Ya don’t wanna get inta a water fight with me, Swamp Rat.” Remy grinned at her.
“Non, y’ right. Dere’s ot’er t’ings dat be more interestin’ t’ get int’ wit’ y’.” They finished the dishes. Remy stacked them on the counter. He snapped his wet towel across Rogue’s backside. He was almost fast enough to avoid the bowl of water Rogue dumped over him. He wrung out his hair. Getting the splint sopping wet in the process.
“Ya went and got yahr splint wet, Sugah. Ah ought ta help Hank out.” She grabbed for him. He ducked out of the way and grabbed the sprayer from the sink and flicked on the water. The spray caught the turning Southern Belle in the chest and face. “Ah’ll get ya fah that,” she threatened as he let the sprayer snake back into the sink. He found himself, suddenly pinned against the wall, next to the hall door. Rogue held his wrist still. He twisted and managed to push away from the wall. She compensated and controlled their fall into the solid oak table. “Poutin’ ain’t gonna work, Hon. Ah’m immune.” She shifted to get a better grip and suddenly he was out from under her, along with the salt and pepper shakes that were on a direct course towards the basement stairs. Hank ducked them and slammed the door shut.
“I’ll just return later for my evening coffee,” he consoled himself. He heard Gambit’s threat through the door.
“One step closer an’ I’m aimin’ f’ de hair,” he warned her.
“Try it,” she dared him. She dodged the stream of water with the speed that was a part of her flight. The water splashed into the wall behind her, not to mention on the floor. She wrestled the sprayer away from her lover and turned it on him. They were soaked. The floor was developing puddles of water. Scott Summers was attempting to appear stern when a burst of water caught him in the face.
"Children!" he barked out. They froze, turning identical, innocent faces to him.
"Yes, Fearless?"
"What is going on here?" Rogue looked around.
"We're cleanin' up tha kitchen, Sugah," she tried. Scott frowned.
"A water fight in other words. Half an hour. I want you changed and in my office." The two southerners winced. They sulked away to their rooms. Scott shook his head and called Bobby to come clean up the mess. He needed to be punished for last week's stunt anyway.
*****
Much quieter, Rogue and Remy sat waiting for the lecture. Rogue was retaping the splint when Scott walked in. He had a pinched look around his mouth that usually indicated a headache. He stared at them for a long moment from behind his desk. Rogue hadn't felt so much like a child in years. She looked at Remy. He didn't seem impressed, but then he rarely did. He didn't like to give up that edge.
"I won't even begin with the standard lecture on safety because you'll both ignore it. I will state this, however, Rogue, you may be invulnerable, but Gambit is not. If he'd slipped he could have been seriously injured." The red on black eyes narrowed, but Gambit kept his mouth shut. "Furthermore, accidental contact could be dangerous." Remy frowned. He didn't like this the way this was headed. "Rogue, Storm needs assistance in her gardens. You will be working with her for the next week. Gambit, Beast needs help in the lab. And he mentioned that he had already laid down consequences for getting the splint wet. One week in the lab on top of whatever consequences already laid out." Scott didn't miss the brief flash of panic on Gambit's face. "Get moving. They're waiting for you."
Rogue squeezed Remy's hand as they left the office. "Ya gonna be okay, Swamp-Rat." Remy shrugged.
"Oui, chere. Now, y' hurry on. Don' need a t'under storm t'day."
*****
Gambit hesitated at the entrance of the med-lab, but stepped in. Hank looked up at him and smiled. This was the first time Remy had entered the room without being unconscious, hurt, or helping someone. Hank's smile did nothing to ease the anxiety simply being in the lab evoked. Remy returned the smile with a smile that would pass muster unless someone actually looked at his eyes. Hank let the mask lie to him. "Scott said that you would be down. What have you done to incur our fearless leader's wrath?"
"Y' walked in on it."
"This is over a water fight?" Hank asked in amusement. He and Bobby had done far worse, with fewer consequences.
"Non, dis is because Cyke don' dink dat Roguie an' Remy be consenting adults!" Remy spat out. "He worried dat one o' us is gonna get hurt." Hank frowned. He didn't tend to interfere in any of his friends' sex lives. He was their doctor, not their preacher. But this seemed to be something unusual.
"What do you mean?"
"He's so damn worried dat Rogue's gonna touch Remy, dat he forget dat it ain't his decision. She laughed t'day. Really laughed. She don' do dat so often. No on in dis damn house laughs. It jus' gets t' Remy." The Cajun shrugged. "What y' need Remy t' do, M. Bete?"
"I need you to sit down and let me take a look at that finger. Then, we're going to talk about why you disobeyed doctor's orders."
Remy made a face, but sat down on the bed. Hank changed the splint. "There we are. All better. Now, you were going to tell me a story."
"Rogue and me was doin' the dishes. I snapped de towel at her. She normally do dat t' me. Anyway, she dumped de soap water over m' head. I grabbed de sprayer and got her a good one. Then, we were wrestlin' 'round de room. And Summers ended up gettin' wet. Dat's why I'm here."
Hank's brows rose. "And I have you for one week. Fascinating. Very well. What do you know about culturing tissue?"
Remy's eyes narrowed. "Y' want m' doin' hard shit? I t'ought, I don' know, y'd have me give the place a cleanin'. Sure could use it." Remy looked pointedly at the mess under the lab table.
Henry McCoy was not an easy man to surprise. He'd been Bobby Drake's best friend for years. It had inured him to shocks. This, however, was enough to make him lose track of his thoughts for a moment. "If you would prefer. Most of my victims prefer the lab-work."
"How 'bout we do bot'? I know 'nough that there's down time built int' stuff like cultures an' all."
Hank nodded. He patted the Cajun's bangs. "We'll begin with the culture augers."
Remy sighed. He pulled on one of the lab-coats hanging on the wall. It was too long in the arms and he had to roll them up. "Feel like I’m playin' dress-up."
*****
Rogue looked at the dirt, then at her gloves. "I'm takin' off my gloves, girl, just be careful."
"It should not be a problem. Tell me, though, what has given Scott such a frown on his face."
"He thinks Remy and I should be playing so rough."
Storm blinked. "And what has brought him to this conclusion? I haven't seen anything to indicate that Remy is in any kind of danger from you, nor you from him."
"Scotty thinks we don't know how to take care of ourselves. 'An accidental touch would have lasting consequences.' 'Remy's not invulnerable, Rogue.' Cocksucker should keep his nose out of our business."
Storm's brows rose again. "I did not know that Scott had actually consummated his relationship with Logan."
Rogue blinked. "He ain't."
"Then who's cock would he be sucking?"
Rogue's jaw dropped. "You are bad, girlie."
*****
Scott rolled over, trying to get away from the stifling heat of a cuddled close body. He didn't mind cuddling occasionally, but sometimes even the tiniest touch just hurt. It had something to do with over-absorbtion of solar energy, or so Hank tried to tell him. His head throbbed with the agony of a building migraine. Maybe he'd take tomorrow off, put a pillow over his head and pray for relief. That sounded like a very good option. He'd have to tell everyone when his head stopped feeling like it was going to explode.
*****
"Henri?" Remy nearly squeaked when the doctor picked him up and put him on the bed.
"Don't look at me that way. I don't buy the tragic pout. You weigh far less than one would suppose. Lay down, it's bedtime for little thieves."
"It's only ten, Bones."
"Do not call me that."
"Why not?"
"Because I detest it."
Remy made a talking hand, but laid down on the bed. "I could just go on upstairs, cher. Dat way I won't be botherin' y' none."
Hank shook his head and held up a piece of gauze. He fixed it around one wrist, then around the bed.
"Non, Henri. Y' weren't serious?"
"Very. I learned a long time ago from our resident psychopath that I cannot make idle threats."
"Y' got a psycho here? Who? This Charles I been hearin' about?"
"No, no. Our Fearless Leader of course, Scott Summers."
Remy snickered. "Y'all are crazy here, y' hear m'? Crazy."
Hank chuckled. "Sleep well, Gambit."