The plane touched down at JFK at 6:15pm. Right on time, Gambit and Rogue both noted. They had avoided talking for much of the flight, each knowing that they needed time to relax and process everything that had just happened. Instead, they had smiled pleasantly and tried to nap, and he'd held her gloved hand in his the entire flight. They were both eager to step into this new future before them, which had seemed so impossible before they'd left for the island retreat. Though they would not admit it, they were afraid to break the spell that seemed to have been cast on Paraíso. Things had seemed so much better there, with all their negative feelings slowly being siphoned away. Now they were home, forced to face their own unpleasant experiences and the resultant trauma, and everything seemed so uncertain.

There was so much to worry about as they deplaned. Would they fall into their same old pattern? How would they go on with Anna's powers still preventing them from the intimacy they both so desired? Would they be able to overcome their own insecurities and make things different this time? How long would the kiss they shared on the beach be their last?

'None o' that matters,' Gambit thought. 'We'll get through this. Things feel so different already. We literally saw the past through each others' eyes. We have been able to move forward so much already in a short time. We can keep moving forward. We have to. We have to.' Though he had to admit, he was uncharacteristically nervous.

As they walked through the airport, he texted Kitty to let her know they'd made it back safely and that they could all sit down for a debriefing when she was ready.

"Where do we wanna go now, chère?" he asked.

"That's a loaded question," she laughed.

"No, seriously. Back to the Institute? We could get some dinner? Or if you're lookin' for quiet, there's my place?" he grinned.

"I'll go anywhere with you." She pondered for a moment as they approached the cab stand. "Your place. I'm not quite ready to give up being alone with you."

He squeezed her hand. "Y'know, I was thinkin' the exact same thing."

The relief they felt once they were in the cab driving through the city was palpable. As worried as they were about what the future held, they were both happy to be back home in New York. They discussed dinner options and groaned at the stiffness they felt from the long flight and the aches and bruises from the battle they had fought, almost entirely it seemed, against themselves. He rested his hand on her knee and that felt like being back home, too. Eventually they arrived at his penthouse.

"I wasn' really plannin' on this happening so fast, but..." he trailed off.

"What happening?" she asked, stepping in to the elevator. She wasn't sure what either of them was expecting in that moment. It hadn't occurred to her until then what going to his apartment might mean. She didn't know if it was safe to spend the night in his bed. But she didn't want to be apart from him. She just couldn't go to sleep alone after how close they'd just been, after just having found each other again, after having been able to make love again. Even if it couldn't happen now.

"The cats, chèrie. You meeting the cats. But they're here and you're here, so..."

"Oh." She burst out laughing. "Well, I hope they like me."

He unlocked the door. They were ambushed by the cats, who stood near the door and meowed loudly to protest having been left alone during his absence. Fence always saw to their care while he was gone, but they still complained when he spent too long away.

"Make yourself comfortable. Want a drink?" He disappeared to feed the cats.

"Just some water, please." She kicked off her shoes hesitantly set her bags down near the door. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She walked along the wall lined with books, running her gloves over some of the leather-bound volumes. She noted the papers that needed grading on the coffee table. The pictures of her, and of the both of them, on the book cases and hanging on the wall. The place seemed like him, she thought. She decided to sit down on the couch. She took a deep breath, attempting to relax. He had said to make herself comfortable, so she tried.

He came in to the room, carrying two glasses of water. He handed her one and seated himself next to her on the couch.

They stared at the television, which was turned off, neither of them sure what to say. "Are you hungry? We could order dinner. We could do that Thai place that I was telling you about nearby that delivers."

"Not really. You?"

"Not at the moment." He emptied his water glass; he'd been thirstier than he'd thought.

"Maybe in a little while, then. Thai food sounds good."

They stared at each other. Several moments passed.

"So..." they both started at the same time.

"You first," she urged.

"Rogue, these last several days have been..." He set his glass on the coffee table.

"Amazing," she supplied. Her heart sank. Was this him trying to let her down easy? After everything they had just made it through, after all the changes they'd seen take place in their relationship, he couldn't be running away. He'd made it clear over and over again that he wasn't going anywhere. That he was her home and her harbor. So why was there a lump in her throat? She took a long drink of water.

"Yes. Exactly. It's how I've always wanted things to be for us," he smiled lovingly. "I love you so much. More than anything. And it feels like… it feels like we've turned things around. Moved forward."

"It does," she said, filled with relief. "And I couldn't be happier." She looked deeply in to his eyes and wished she could kiss him.

"I just want to make sure that we don't lose that. We did a lot of work. We confronted a lot of things that we had ignored because we thought they were too painful. And I think that we have to keep doing that. We have to keep going forward. We have to keep dealing with the painful parts. We owe it to ourselves. We owe it to us, chère." His brow was furrowed, and she was overcome with the need to comfort him.

"Are you talkin' about more therapy?" Figaro had finished eating and curled up on the floor near Remy's feet.

"Maybe." Therapy wasn't normally something either of them believed in. "I don't know. But I know that we have to be able to talk about things. Let each other in. Trust each other."

"Yeah, that's what I want. So… we talk about things. Even if it's hard. Even if it hurts. Even if we are worried that we will hurt each other. It's better than putting up walls. We talk about things. And we promise not to stop loving each other. No matter what." She brought her face close to his.

"No matter what," he repeated. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her even closer.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Anna. So much. And I don't want anything to come between us ever again. So we have to be honest with each other." His voice was little more than a whisper. He ached to put his lips to hers or to caress her face. It felt good to be so open and vulnerable with her, but it was also terrifying.

"So we're honest with each other. And we don't avoid things." It was rare that they talked like this, and it had been a long time. She felt a bit overwhelmed and her voice shook. She had to stop herself from trembling.

"Yes."

It struck Rogue that what they were saying felt a bit like vows. As important as that felt, she tried to put it out of her mind. She knew that whatever they were promising each other now, those vows, the ones she wanted to hear him say, weren't in the cards for her.

"And another thing, chère..." He was so close to kissing her. "Your powers. They don't matter. We'll figure it out. But, in the meantime, they're not an excuse for pushing each other away."

She nodded, unable to do anything else.

"And, if you want, we can find ways to work around them for the time being."

She swallowed. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry and her heart was pounding. She forced herself to speak. "Okay." An orange cat jumped in to her lap. She moved backwards a bit in surprise.

"Rogue, this is Lucifer."

She smirked and rolled her eyes, "Leave it to you..." She stroked the cat with her gloved hand.

"This one," he gestured towards his feet, "is Figaro. Oliver is probably still in the kitchen."

"I like that name," she smiled. She leaned in to Remy, and he put his arm around her. "Have you heard from your Dad lately?"

"Yeah… about that. In the spirit of being honest, like we were talking about… things with the Guild..."

"Do we need to make a trip down to New Orleans?"

"No… it's not about New Orleans… the Guilds have been… consolidated. All the Thieves Guilds from all over the world. And… they chose me… to lead them. Jean-Luc was trying hard to keep them under control… some people were getting in to other enterprises… and with me in power, we can curtail some of their worst impulses."

She knew that he had been dealing with Guild matters and taking "business meetings" with some frequency lately, even though he tried to keep her out of it for the most part. She trusted him not to get in over his head most of the time. And she'd known that the Thieves Guild had chapters in cities beyond New Orleans, because Remy had mentioned Zoe and her brother, who had come from the Guild in Tokyo. But this was certainly news. "Is this… is this what that whole crime spree a while back was all about?"

"Well, it didn't start out that way, but that is what got their attention. Remember the jail break? When… when I got shot and had to be… put back together?"

The memory still gave her pain. She'd been so sure that he was gone. And she also remembered how hurt he'd been when discussing her lack of faith in him later. She felt terribly. "Yeah," she said, her voice barely audible. "I was so afraid… and I felt so guilty."

"That was what that was about. It was… a trial. Sort of. Though not a fair one. A witch trial, maybe. They wanted to see if I'd sink or float, and there was no real way to win."

"But you found one. You always do."

"Doesn't really feel like I won."

"I know… I guess this makes you King of the Thieves. Or President. Or maybe CEO." For an instant she wondered if this would make her Queen if…

"Guess so..." he smirked.

But she sensed the weight on him. "It must be hard on you, all that… responsibility resting on your shoulders."

"Yeah. And you know how I ain't exactly the leadership type."

"Well, I know you don't like it." She nuzzled against his chest. "But you are good at it. But I can definitely see how dealing with that plus everything with the X-Men is… a lot."

"That it is, chère. That it is." He felt… heavy and yet unburdened at the same time. He'd wanted to talk to her about this since it had happened. Having this out in the open, being able to share, it made a big difference.

"I'm here if you need me. I can listen and… help, if I'm able to."

"Thank you. That.. means a lot. Come to think of it, there is one thing I could use… help with. Kitty asked me shortly before we left to… procure a disk, something about mutant genetic research that set off some alarm bells for her. I still have to work out the details of how the job will have to be carried out. Now normally, I would… ask… someone else… to serve as a distraction or alibi or backup." Some other woman, he meant, though he wasn't sure he wanted to say that to her. "But with things between us being what they are now, it wouldn't feel… well, I could use a partner in crime, if you're up to it."

"You know I'm always happy to provide a distraction. And to be your partner in crime anytime you need one. I'm in." She leaned back and put her socked feet in his lap, draining her water glass. He smiled wide, and his hand lightly massaged her feet. They hadn't been this relaxed in each other's company in a long time. And not only did he get to plan an X-Men sanctioned heist, but he got to do it with his Rogue.

"Good. I'm gonna get a beer. Want one?"

"Yes, please." She moved her feet to allow him to stand. Lucifer jumped up from her lap, displeased.

He brought back two beers and popped the tops on both. "Thanks, baby," she said, taking the bottle from his hand and taking a sip. He smiled at the endearment.

"I feel like we should talk about some of what we saw. And maybe things we didn't see. But there's time for that, I guess." He wasn't sure if they'd reached a limit for now.

"There's time, sugah. But that doesn't mean we can't talk now, if you want to. I do want to say again that I know I hurt you. I should have had more faith in you. Trusted you more. I know you're a good man. I know who you are. I trust you. I know you're not always inclined to tell me everything..."

He smiled, "I'll work on that."

"But I trust you implicitly. I do, and I want you to know that." Her green eyes fixed his gaze. He took a long swig of his beer.

"Thank you, chère." His voice hitched. "Thank you. I will try to earn and keep that trust."

"You don't have to, Remy. Don't you see? You already have earned it. You don't have to make yourself worthy. You are worthy. You don't need redemption. You've done so much more good than bad."

He had to close his eyes because he was afraid they would tear up. He'd wanted to hear her say these things for ages. He wished he could believe it for himself in his heart, and maybe one day he would, but it meant so much coming from her.

She saw the emotion on his face and moved to hold him. "I love you, Remy." He squeezed her tight.

"I love you, too. I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, but I'm grateful I have you. And… if there's anything you want to talk about… All of that emotion, crammed in to one moment. It was a lot. And I am sure, like I said, that there are things that I didn't see. But I think it's important that we share."

"I think so, too. And there's plenty to talk about. But for now, maybe we order dinner?"

He placed the order while she played with the cats. Then she went in to the kitchen to get plates and utensils and more beers. They chatted a bit more, joking about the mutiny they planned to depose Kitty. After a bit, the food arrived and they ate in companionable quiet. After the spring rolls and pad thai were gone and the bottles were empty, Remy flipped through the channels on TV, settled on something that seemed vaguely interesting, and wrapped her in his arms. It all seemed so impossibly domestic. 'This is perfect,' she thought.

"How late did you want to stay up, chére? Because I'm getting pretty tired." He yawned. She realized how late it had gotten. She was tired, too, between the ordeal on Paraíso, the long flight back, and the intense emotional discussion they'd been through.

"Yeah… Did you want… Can I… ummmm… ?" she wasn't sure what she wanted to ask. She wanted to stay, but she didn't want to make things difficult.

"You are more than welcome to stay here. As long as you like. Forever, even. Or I can get you back to Xavier's if you'd rather…"

"I want to stay here, but…"

"I'd like that, too. Not sure I'd be able to sleep without you next to me. We'll make it work. Like I said. I'll cover up and we'll be safe."

"Okay." She knew Remy was a light sleeper, which she attributed to his having spent his formative years on the streets. And they'd managed to sleep next to each other plenty of times when her powers were not in her control. But it still made her a bit nervous every time. She couldn't tolerate the thought of hurting him.

She grabbed her bags and he showed her the bathroom so she could get ready for bed. Once her teeth were brushed, she went back in to the bedroom and changed in to her PJs while Remy got ready. She hadn't been expecting to share a bed with Remy when she'd packed for the trip to Paraíso, so she only had shorts and tops that showed plenty of skin. Remy came out of the bathroom wearing long sleeves and long pants, then went to his dresser and fished out socks and gloves. He frequently covered up when he knew they'd be close so that she didn't have to be the one to do so all the time. It always made her want to laugh and cringe at the same time, that he would go to such effort for her. It almost bordered on absurd, she thought, because Remy was not a man who would otherwise own what she thought of as "old man long sleeve pajama shirts". He usually preferred to sleep wearing little or nothing.

"Chére, everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking how lucky I am to have you."

He smiled at that. "Come let me hold you." She could hear one of the cats batting around a toy in the living room.

She got in the bed on her usual side and he snaked his arm around her and stroked her hair with the other hand. She wanted badly to be able to touch his face, his chest, his back, his arms. She buried her face in his chest. "Want you," she murmured so low he could barely hear. He rubbed his hand up and down her back.

"I can… if you like..." he gently prompted. They tried skirting her powers from time to time, when the desire and need for closeness and connection became too much. From time to time when they couldn't resist, they would give in and try making love with Remy completely covered and wearing a condom, but having him inside her without being to kiss or touch his skin made Anna feel something she couldn't really name – cheap, maybe, she thought, like a hooker. So the usual workaround, when they needed release, was much more immature. It was never quite as satisfying as the real thing, and it sometimes made her feel bad afterward, because it reminded her that she couldn't ever give him what they both actually wanted. It felt unnatural to not be able to kiss during what passed for sex. For his part, Remy didn't mind because, as he had told her many times, he wanted to be close to her any way he could. She knew he'd rather have this pale imitation of intimacy than nothing. But it still broke her heart.

"Yeah, I think so." After the emotional closeness they'd been sharing, she wasn't sure that she could go without having his hands on her. Even if they were covered with gloves.

He ran his hand over her back, down to the curve of her ass, over her hip and down her thigh. She shivered at his touch. Even without skin-to-skin contact, he had this effect on her. "I really miss that electricity thing that was happening," she said in a hoarse whisper.

"Me, too. We'll get it back if we can," he said, and then his hand drifted up her belly to cup her breasts. He gently played with her nipples, eliciting a small gasp from her lips. "Feel good, chère?" He had become almost painfully aroused.

"Yeah," she moaned. He placed light kisses over her thin shirt. His hand found its way between her thighs, where he stroked her center through the shorts she wore. She let out a low cry. His eyes locked on to hers, burning with longing. Her breath was ragged and he could feel her heart thumping. He rolled over on top of her. He positioned himself between her flawless thighs and ground his hips into her. This was always a double edged sword for both of them. Face to face, so close, but barely able to resist their instincts. It was about as close as they could get for now. He braced one arm above her head and rested his head on her shoulder while the other hand held on to her leg. His hips continued to slowly pump against her. She felt like she might shatter at any moment. It didn't take long for him to bring her over the edge, and she squirmed and cried out beneath him.

He rolled on to his back and she rolled toward him and engulfed him in an embrace, taking care to avoid any skin contact. Remy reached down, pushed his waistband down a bit, and began stroking his member. His arousal had become nearly unbearable. He obviously would have preferred to bury himself inside her, to finish inside her, but he contented himself with what was possible. He groaned as the waves washed over him and spent himself into some tissue from the box on his nightstand.

He kissed the top of her head and when he settled back down she felt his body relax. "Love you, Anna."

"I love you, too, Remy."

They were both exhausted, and soon Remy's breathing became steady and even and she knew that he had fallen asleep. She snuggled closer but tried carefully not to disturb him. Her mind wandered; so many changes. She had always known she was helplessly in love with this man, but now she knew she could never go without him again. But how would they make it work? Could they build something normal together? Just before sleep took her, she reflected on what she'd said before they left the retreat. Things were messed up, but she'd take messed up with him over anything else.