Bits and Pieces
"Good morning, padnat," Ororo Monroe said to the young man laying in her bed. "it's time for breakfast."
"Oui, petite, Remy hears y."
"Then why aren't you moving?"
"Mebbe I ain't hungry."
"Maybe you are hungover."
Remy scowled at her. "I ain't."
"Then what *is* bothering you, brother?" She sat down on the bed and stroked his bangs. "You do not believe that I hold any ill will towards you or you would not have sought out my bed when you have three lovers waiting for you. Is that what's bothering you?"
He wasn't smiling and that worried his sister to no end. "Talk to me, my friend."
"I ever tell y' 'bout me and Sabretoot'?"
"I heard about the Paris incident."
Remy snorted. "That weren't true. Asshole was jealous of Rougie."
"Jealous of Rogue? What do you mean?"
"He don' like me takin' lovers or bein' happy. Don' know why. Ain't like we were engaged or somethin'. Just fucked every once and awhile." Remy shook his head. "He's actin' like I owe him. Not like I ain't been payin' him f' his work."
"You've lost me, brother. You've seen him recently."
"Oui. Hired him f' a job me." The Acadian shrugged. "And he's pushin' me hard. T'ought havin' Raven would calm him down some. Ain't done not'in' more'n kiss m' really, but he's talkin' and I don' rightly like it."
"Have you told Scott or Logan?"
"Dey know. Some of it at least. But what dey gonna do, petite? Lock me up? Time's it? I gotta meet Belle at one."
"It is eight in the morning."
"And y' wonder why I ain't movin'?"
"I think you should tell Logan."
"About Chat? Non. Still need him. And he won't do shitall if'n he and Logan get int' t'ings. Just cause more trouble'n it's worth. Hear y' been spendin' time wit' M. Bete."
Storm stared. "And who told you that?"
Remy grinned. "M' sources are protected. Dat true, ou? Y' and Bete been datin'?"
"He's been bribing me to talk about you. He wants to know about your family."
"Y' been stonewallin', non?"
"Good. So y' like Henri."
"It's a good question. Y' start spendin' time wit' a homme it's news. Y' finally over Forge de connard?"
"He is not that bad."
"He stolt y'r powers and manipulated y' wit' the promise that he could get dem back. He's a bastard."
Storm shook her head. She brushed Remy's bangs out of his eyes. "Stop hding your eyes."
"Answer m' question, petite."
"No comment, you gossip." She tugged on his arm. "Come to breakfast."
Scott watched Remy make his coffee and then settle into his favorite perch on the counter. Jean settled next to him there and slid an arm around his waist. "Aren't you going to have some pancakes, Sweetie?"
"Don' eat breakfast, chere. Y' know that." He automatically put an arm around her shoulders.
"Missed you last night."
"Had t' curl up wit' ma petite Stormy."
Jean leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "But *I* had to put up with two mother hens who don't think you can take care of yourself. You owe me for that."
"Oui. *You* get to find new wallpaper for the parlor."
"That parlor?" Remy pointed to the formal front parlor.
"Yes," Jean smirked. Charles smothered his smile as Remy considered.
"Anyt'in' else t' change in there?"
"Hmm. Red silk, mebbe. Y' got a price limit, Charles?"
Xavier's smile broke free. "No, Remy. Just try to keep it reasonable. No original brocades."
"Well, dat ain't fair. Reckon I can find somet'in'. Mebbe even have enough t' reframe that paintin' Peter done f' y'. Deserves better'n what it's in."
Bobby frowned. At least he could always redo the details on that room.
"True. You know of a good local framer?"
"Don' worry y'r bald head over it, M. Remy'll get y' a good deal."
"He'd better or it comes out of his salary."
"I'm gettin' paid f' this gig?"
"Better tell m' accountant. He t'inks I'm payin' tuition."
Bobby laughed out loud. "I"ll give you a good deal if you let me get a crack at your books."
"Not in this lifetime, Robert. Had the same accountant f' ten years. No offense, cher, but he's cuter."
Bobby flicked the Cajun off.
"Day an' place, cher."
Scott cleared his throat pointedly. "I wouldn't offer what's not free."
Remy rolled his eyes. "He always been dis possessive?" he asked Jean. She smiled.
"He's more fun in this mood. Did you know that your accent's stronger today?"
"Talkin' t' someone from home always does it. It'll pass."
"Too bad. I think it's cute. Some people are sticks in the mud." Jean pouted.
"What I tell y' 'bout dat, Red?" She rolled her eyes.
Warren stared. "Now *that* deserves respect. Can you really resist a pouting woman?"
"Can't y'all?" Remy blinked at the other men in the room. Betsy covered her laugh with a cough. "Po' chers. That sure explains a lot 'bout this place." He shook his head. "Don't seem fair, but well, it ain't my problem, right, cheres?"
"Bet your arse, Cajun," Betsy stated.
Remy drank his coffee. He charged it lightly to keep it warm. Jean peered into his cup. "Your coffee is glowing."
"So it stays hot."
"You can charge coffee?"
"Oui." His brow furled. He wasn't sure where the questions were leading.
"You can charge liquids?"
"Chere, everyt'in' has potential energy. Watch, it'll glow more de higher I hold it." He beecame aware of a very sudden focus on his actions. "Quoi? Ain't y'all never had physics? Coffe's easier t' charge den water. It's a suspension. Basic cookin' on dat point. Course, since only half of y' can cook, I'll f'give dat." Remy rolled his eyes and took another sip of coffee.
"I thought you could only charge solids," Scott said.
"Can't make liquids explode, but I can heat them." Remy shrugged. "so next time someone tried t' freeze m' wheels he's gonna get a special treat."
Bobby looked around with exaggerated interest. "What do you mean? Has Storm been trying to freeze you out?"
"Non. Stormy's warm an' cuddly."
"In an attempt to forstall this festival of implications, Gambit, you were going to procure something for me?"
"Oui, Henri. Remy's got samples. Hear tell y' been goin' behind m' back f' some t'ings. Don' know if I approve. Mighty sneaky way t' get a date."
Hank blinked. "I don't need underhanded tactics to appropriate Storm's time. Do I?" He looked to the weather goddess for confirmation.
"Of course not. So long as those delicious sticky buns remain on offer, I shall endeavor to spend as much time with you as you would like."
Remy wrenched his mind out of the gutter and went back to his plotting. The rest of the team had been pleasantly diverted by the topic so he remained undisturbed for the rest of the meal.
"Alice, Darling. Come back to bed. It isn't even noon."
"I can't rest. Something's wrong. I don't know what. Belle's meeting Remy at one. I can't hear Creed or Ray. It's too quiet."
Cherry sat up. She stroked her lover's bright pink hair. "They'd have sounded the alarm if there was trouble. Relax."
"No. It's like they aren't there at all. I can feel Belle's left, but the other two are just blanks."
"Can you usually read them?"
"Well, no, I'm not that good. But that's not. . ."
"You're going to give yourself grey hair if you keep this up."
Alice stiffened. "That Gods-be-damned freak is on the grounds. This is the last straw. HE's gone too far tracin' us here."
Cherry frowned. "He's just a freak, sweetheart. He won't do any harm."
"Bullshit. He wants to kill me. He thinks it will prove his love for you." Alice flipped back the blanket, then pulled on her pink and purple striped robe. She took the gun from the nightstand and checked to make sure it was loaded. Cherry pulled the covers up around her chest.
"Is that necessary?"
Cherry nodded. "Why don't you call Victor? He'll take care of it."
"I'd rather not. He'll be a mess to clean up after. No, this one I can handle. We'll have to call the hospital for him though." Alice walked boldly into the living room, just as Cherry's pet stalker walked through the kitchen door. His eyes flicked up and down, taking in the naked female form that the robe displayed as it hung open. Alice smiled. "Hi. Are you a friend of Victor's?" She put a hand on her hip, sweeping the robe further back.
Frank shook his head. "Fucking dyke bitch," he hissed. "Filling Cherry's head with bullshit!"
"You're wrong, Frankie." She reached out for his mind. She pushed and he fell off the edge of sanity.
"I'm gonna kill you, cunt!" He lunged for Alice.
"Stop," she ordered. He stumbled to keep his balance, then froze.
"I called the police," Cherry stated from the doorway of the bedroom.
"You'll tell the police exactly what you've been up to for the last two days."
Frankie nodded, eyes glazed.
"So you're a spook, hmm?" Raven said with a smile. "I wondered why Belladonna was so sure of you."
"Sit." Alice held the gun on the man. He sat. "Cherry would you mind?"
Cherry tied her lover's robe shut.
"You're dangerous, husband. Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes. If this shipment goes missing in this neighborhood, all Hell will break loose."
"You've confirmed the time?" Remy just looked at his wife. She grinned and patted his cheek. She was sitting in his lap, one arm wrapped around his neck as they watched the street from atop a nearby roof. "I need to meet your new girl," Belle stated.
"Don't make this one cry."
"I don't make women cry unless they aren't good enough for you. And this one's going to have children. Take care of her."
A car exploded in the street below. "Thirty seconds early," Remy tisked. Belle leaned forward to get a better view.
"Shipment's gone. The horses are dead."
"And so the war begins."
"Who'd you get to do it?"
"One of O'Shaunessy's boys. He thinks I'm a talkative drunk. He'll be dead by tonight. Got my own people here. Quick bullet from a mugger."
"That lacks class."
Remy shrugged. "Don't want to be too fancy or the Kingpin will catch on. He likes me now. I don't want to lose that."
"If it fails will they be able to trace it back?"
"Non. They both think I'm a pretty red-headed slut who smokes a little too much."
"Well, I suppose someone would take you for a contralto if you were in drag."
"Built one with M. Bete's help."
"Let's go check on the girls."
Scott gathered the last strip of wallpaper into the trashbag. "Jean? Where are you, you deserter?"
"I can't do any of that hard work. It might hurt the babies." Jean held a mug of coffee out. Scott shook his head and she set it on the counter.
"Remy'd accept it as an excuse."
"No, he wouldn't. This isn't hard work. And if you tell me you can't be around the chemicals in the glue I'll laugh in your face."
"Damn. Okay. I'll help you with the papering. Where's Logan?"
"He's getting lunch."
"Really? He's cooking?"
"No, he's getting lunch."
"Pizza or subs?"
"Subs." Jean kissed Scott's cheek. She nuzzled at his throat, enjoying the scent of him and the salt of his sweat. Scott tied the bag shut. He dropped it, then wrapped an arm around her waist. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts. "Wash that when you're done with it. I don't want to smell like Chanel #5."
"Maybe I'll just keep it. Serve you right."
She bit his ear gently. "Watch it, boy-o." She stared at the wall over his shoulder. "Who dented the wall?"
"Remy. You get to take out the trash, honey."
"Don't 'sweetie' me. And I am not going to look at you so don't bother pouting."
"Spoilsport." She slid a hand up his chest. She kissed along his jaw and then kissed him gently on the mouth. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. "Do you think we made a mistake?"
"Good. Sometimes I wonder."
"There is no further except what we choose to make of it."
"You sound like Storm."
"I stole the line from her. I'm glad she and Remy worked things out."
"She's worried about him."
"So are you. If you relax a little bit, you'll find out more about him."
"He doesn't like talking to me."
"He doesn't like being interrogated." Scott rested his forehead against hers. "Now, I'm thinking that there's a nice sturdy table over there."
"I don't know how sturdy it is given the nubmer of times it's been used."
"Well, we should field test it." Jean cleared it with a thought. "You are so useful."
"That's why you love me." Scott picked her up and walked her to the table and sat her on the edge of it. He kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I feel like a teenager."
"That was Warren," Scott informed her.
"You were *so* jealous."
"You know something, honey?"
"I won." His hands slid up and under the flannel, brushing gently up her soft cream colored skin. He ran his fingers along the edge of her bra, barely touching her skin. She wriggled back a bit and spread her legs wider so he could settle more closely. He slipped closer and ran his hands down her back and into her jeans. "Planning ahead?"
"Too lazy to do laundry." She kissed Scott to shut him up. She slid one hand down to cup the bulge in his pants. She squeezed gently, feeling his warmth through the denim. Her tongue dueled with his for a long moment as she slowly undid his pants. Scott's eyes were closed behind his shades, so he didn't notice Betsy as she froze by the window. The Englishwoman stared at the couple, then hurried to the woods. No meditating on the pier today, she thought with regret.
Scott ran his hands along the inside of Jean's waistband, then opened the fly with more urgency than she was working on his. He lifted her gently to get the denim off of her. The jeans settled around her ankles and she didn't bother kicking them off. Scott was more focussed on the soft fingers that were teasing his already hard cock.
He sighed softly against her lips, then moved down her jaw to bite at her throat. One hand cradled his head against her throat. The other continued to stroke along his erection, deepening its color as each touch brought blood rushing to the surface. He sucked at the base of her throat as she threw her head back. With a twitch of her legs, her jeans tumbled to the floor. She wrapped her now free legs around his thighs. "Now," she ordered. "Get in me now."
Scott was happy to comply. He slid into her moistness gratefully. She moaned. Her body was shivering against his cock as she pulled him deeper with muscled thighs. He moved in and out with tiny delicate thrusts. His arms raised to support her back. Her hands ran through his hair, petting him. "More," she groaned. "Stop playing and fuck me, Slim."
His lips quirked into a grin and he thrust home. Her hands fisted in his hair. "Damn! Yes." He drove in and out of her body until her words melted away into nothing more than encouraging pants and groans. Scott thrust deep into her body and came. She shuddered under him, riding the waves of his pleasure into her own orgasm.
"One of ya better be ready and willin' fer me," Logan growled from the doorway." Jean collapsed back on the table. Scott smiled at him.
"Maybe. Depends on what you need I suppose." Scott leaned over their lover's body as her heart slowed. Logan grinned.
"I want to watch," Jean said, propping herself up on her elbows. Scott's brows rose. He leaned against the wall, jeans open, sated smirk on his face. He crossed his arms. Logan tossed the subs onto the table and kissed Jean deeply. Then, he turned to Scott. He stalked across the room to where the younger man was leaning.
"You look like a slut, Slim."
"Been told it's a good look for me."
"Depends on who's seein' you. Don't mind if its one of us, but you go paradin' in front of Wings, well, things'll get hard."
"I'm sure they will, though he won't ever admit to it."
Logan growled low in his throat. Scott's smile grew wider. The Canadian stepped closer. His nostril's flared taking in the mixed scents of Scott and Jean's arousal. He loved that scent. He hemmed Scott in against the wall and captured his lips. He pressed for entrance and Scott's lips parted to allow him in. Scott didn't drop his arms from their crossed position. Logan plundered Scott's mouth, one hand cupping the back of Scott's head. Scott's hands fell to keep his balance as Logan's other hand cupped Scott's quickly recovering cock. Logan broke away. "Take his glasses, Jeannie."
//Close your eyes.// Jean pulled his glasses off as soon as she knew he'd complied with the demand. Logan's mouth was covering his again. Scott's hands rested on Logan's shoulders. Then, Logan moved away. Scott fell back against the fall. He could practically feel Logan looking him over. His ears strained to hear the sound of Logan's zipper. He licked his lips, tasting the residue of Logan's flavor on his lips. Suddenly, Logan's hands were back.
"Turn around, boy." Scott licked his lips. He shook his head. Logan growled. He caught one wrist and bit it none too gently. Scott gasped. His body was singing so the pain blended into the sensations. The edge of danger was the most intriguing part of Logan's attraction. If that meant a little pain in the mix, he didn't mind it at all. "Turn." This time Scott did as he was told. The grip on his wrist remained, grounding him. He turned his head, giving Logan a good look at his profile. His cheekbones were sharp and high, his hair a deep brown, darkening every day he didn't spend in the sun. Logan held Scott's wrist in the small of his back, pushing forward to hold the man in place. His other hand freed Scott's pants from his hips. The denim puddled around Scott's ankles. Logan unsheathed his claws and felt Scott relax under his grip. The Canadian grinned. He ran his claws along Scott's thighs. He leaned forward and bit the back of Scott's neck. His lover inhaled sharply. Then, Logan decided to stop playing. He used the oil that Jean passed him to slick Scott's entrance and pressed in one finger, then a second. Scott's hips rocked as Logan fingered him. The fingers disappeared.
"Hey!" Scott protested, erection brushing against the wall. Then, Logan was pressing firmly forward. Scott writhed a bit, to see if he could control the motion. He couldn't. Logan had him slightly off balance, not that he really minded it. The Canadian was fully seated. He paused to let Scott adjust to the feel of him, then, moved slowly. In. Out. In. Out. So slowly that Scott was ready to scream for it. He bit his lip. Logan moved more quickly. He jerked in and out faster and faster until Scott was moaning, his fingers twitching against the bare plaster. Then, Logan drove deep and bit hard at the back of Scott's neck, tasting the sharp tang of Scott's blood in his mouth. He wrapped his hand around Scott's cock and brought him off. The field leader was breathing raggedly when Logan slid free. Logan lapped at the bite comfortingly. "Glasses?" Scott asked idly as his brain fired sluggishly.
"I t'ought y'd just kill him," Belle informed Alice.
"Well, I didn't feel like it. He's just a stalker. He's going down for murder. They said there's someone in Cherry's apartment carved up just like the dog he kept talking about."
"Oui. We'll have t' clean the place up b'fore y' move back."
"Belle, tell me what's going on."
"My husband is starting a gang war. And I'm going to visit his new femme while y' take another day off wit' y'r girl."
Alice rolled her eyes. "Filling out paperwork you mean. Fine. Leave me to drudgery while you torture the female Summers."
"I'll tell y' all about it."
"You better. Will Rems get in the way?"
"Non." Belle shook her head, the beads in her hair clacked lightly. "I called Wolverine t' keep him occupied f' me."
Alice snickered. "You approve of Logan then?"
"Oui. And Scott even. But this femme, well, we'll see. Can't be worse dan Rogue. Course, Rogue didn't love him, so it was a different game."
"Wonder how Logan's going to distract him."
"I ain't sure, but it's got great possibilities."
"Yeah. Wish I could get a video."
"I'll see what I can do f' y'."
Remy was distracted by his plans until it was almost too late. He barely managed to duck under Logan's arm and take off. He streaked across the grass towards the boathouse. Logan grinned and gave chase. He could smell excitement with just a hint of fear rising from his lover's skin. That was the way the Cajun always smelled when Logan was after him. Logan growled low in his throat as Remy swung up into the trees and into the branches. He loved a challenging hunt.
Remy's brain fell into automatic evasive plans as if Logan were a dangerous enemy not his lover. He went high, knowing his scent would be harder to track that way. What he didn't expect was for Logan to get ahead of him. The Canadian caught his thief as he fell from the weakened branch. "Gotcha."
"Gettin' predictable me."
"Ya were headin' for better maneuvering space. Makes sense."
"Y' gonna put po' Remy down, cher?"
"Nope. We're due fer a talk, boy." Remy wriggled, feeling his bo poke him in his back. He had very little leverage laying as he was in Logan's arms. "Settle down, Gumbo. I ain't gonna drop ya."
"Lemme walk, Logan."
"Don't whine." Remy gave a long-suffering sigh and let Logan carry him to their clearing. "Hank ever figured out why yer so light?"
"T'inks mebbe m' cells are moving at a more accelerated pace. Makes m' burn off all excess sugar and makes m' bones lighter'n they should be."
Logan nodded. He set the young man down gently on the leaves immediately settling down next to him. Remy sat up, eyeing his lover suspiciously. He'd been set free too easily for their usual games. "We're gonna have that talk now."
"About rape, kiddo."
"Logan, I know about rape."
Logan sighed. "Well, we're gonna talk about bein' taken advantage of then."
Remy rolled his eyes. He laid down across Logan' lap. It wasn't the first time the Canadian had lectured him and it wouldn't be the last. "Y' mind?"
"Not if yer listenin'."
"Remy always listens. He don't always believe, but he listens."
"You define rape as what?"
Remy blinked. "Bein' forced int' sex."
"T'reats or violence or weapons."
"If you love me, you'll do it."
"Love ain't necessarily about sex. Belle and me learnt that. 'Sides, once y' been paid f' sex, it don't got as much allure. Get t' the real point.'
"Creed rubbin' off on ya was rape."
"Non. He weren't angry wit' me."
"Anger ain't the only part of. . ."
"Y' don' understand," Remy was amused. "Victor fucks m' when he's pissed. Better'n him tryin' t' kill me. He's jealous. I'll deal with it."
"Rems, any sort of sex ya don't want is rape. Shit. What Scott did the other night was rape. Ya said 'no.'"
Remy snorted. "I was expectin' it from you. Weren't anyt'in' like rape, cher. Y' f'get, mon ami, I know what m' partner's feelin'. F' better or worse. Don' get raped no more. Learnt how t' project t' stop it when I was a pup."
"Shit, yer powers make it easier to use you."
"Logan. . . How can I make y' understand? Bein' raped. . . it's like maggots crawlin' on my soul. It eats away at m' like acid. It hurts more in m' head than body. Sex, merde, sex is like flyin'. Makes m' feel so good. Even just watchin' it's like the best drunk y' ever known mixed wit' the rush of a heist. The better I make y' feel, the better I feel. Vic's just tryin' t' scare me some. It don't work now I know how y'all react t' him touchin' me."
"Ya thought we'd do what?"
"Yell. Scream. Let m' go."
Logan read the rest of it in the young man's face. "Hit ya? Throw ya out? Ain't gonna happen. Ya could screw everyone in the Mansion and ya'd still be ours."
"You'd get rid of me."
"No," Logan stated. "This ain't about sex, Remy. Ya know damn well I been wantin' ya fer as long as ya been here. Didn't do more'n steal a kiss. You wanna leave, I'm gonna beg ya not to, but I won't hurt you. I'll just watch from a distance again. I'll always love ya, boy."
Remy felt tears pricking behind his eyes and ruthlessly banished them. "Je t'amie, Logan," he whispered as Logan's hand stroked through his hair.
"Ya wanna tell me what upset ya last night?"
"Worked it out. Ain't a problem."
"Okay." Silence fell and that was fine. Logan stroked Remy's hair. He fell into meditation as Remy slipped into sleep.
Jean froze at the sight of a blonde woman cleaning her gun. It was the gun Jean kept in the nightstand. "Y' got t' take better care of y'r weapons, chere."
"Hello, Phoenix. Don' look so worried, chere. I don't kill Remy's femmes, though some of them deserve it. Y' treat him right, y' ain't got t' worry 'bout me. Just came t' meet m' heirs."
"Hello?" Belle finished cleaning the weapon.
"How did you know?"
"Remy told me of course. We don' have any kids. I don' want them and he can't have them, so this is perfect. Y' take good care of them." Belle put the gun back in its drawer. She smiled at Jean. "Remy'll do anyt'in' t' protect y'. Y' keep those chilen safe or it'll kill him. Be careful. Lovin' him's like lovin' mail-bomb. It needs more care than it looks like on the surface. He's more than he'll ever believe. Keep him alive if y' can. Make him stop hurtin'." The assassin paced across the bedroom. She kissed each of Jean's cheeks. "Welcome t' the family." She turned to leave through the window.
"A question before you go."
"What do you think of Rogue."
Belle considered. "She's all wrong f' Remy, but she's a good weapon."
"Y' know m' address. Write me sometime."
Warren stared into his after-dinner coffee as if it would give him all the answers he needed. "Hey, Wings."
"Hey, Slim." Warren looked up. "You found your guitar?"
"Bobby was keeping it for me. You got the time to listen?"
Warren grinned. "Of course. Even if you are probably rusty as Hell."
"Not my thing."
"I know." Scott tuned the guitar quickly. He strummed a couple of chords, then started picking out a tune.
Charles Xavier hovered in the hallway outside the den, not wanting to intrude. Scott always got horribly embarrassed when Xavier was listening. The professor smiled. He'd thought he'd never hear that guitar again. The next thing I know, I'll be yelling at him to turn down the amp because its shaking the paintings. He chuckled softly.