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The Freedom Caper: Finale
Children Behave

Children behave,
That's what they say when we're together,
And watch how you play,
They don't understand,
And so we're

Running just as fast as we can,
Holdin' onto one another's hand,
Tryin' to get away into the night,
And then you put your arms around me,
And we tumble to the ground,
And then you say,

I think we're alone now,
There does't seem to be anyone around.
I think we're alone now,
The beating of our hearts is the only sound.

Look at the way,
We gotta hide what we're doin'.
'Cause what would they say,
If they ever knew and so we're,

Running just as fast as we can,
Holdin' onto one another's hand,
Tryin' to get away into the night,
And then you put your arms around me,
And we tumble to the ground,
And then you say,

I think we're alone now,
There does't seem to be anyone around.
I think we're alone now,
The beating of our hearts is the only sound.

There was garbage everywhere, stacked, piled, draped, shoved, and boxed into all the corners of the large, gymnasium-sized room. Old buckets sat bursting with crumpled up papers and rags. A row dumpsters, filled with old garbage, tilted towards the wall. Rogue shoved her hands in her pockets, and smiled, all too sweetly, at her companion. "Ah gotta hand it to ya, ya sure know how ta keep a girl entertained. Most guys might, Ah don't know, catch a movie with their date, go on a picnic, sit under willow trees eatin' strawberries an' whipped cream...but not you. You know the secret. Every girl secretly dreams o' bein' escorted through a whole room o' garbage."

Remy LeBeau had braced one leg on an old carton, and was holding a communicator device between his hands. The whole of his attention had been previously focused on the tiny hunk of metal, but upon hearing Rogue's words, he paused, looking up to share an arrogant smirk with his new wife. "S'matter, Chere? Wishin' we were havin' a traditional honeymoon? Somewhere a lil' more comfortable, lil' more private?"

"Try sanitary."

He shrugged. "Sorry, girl. Da Hilton doesn't provide access into Nazi headquarters." A spark went flying from the object, and he glanced down sharply, before cursing softly in french.

"What happened?" Rogue leaned in to better see what he was doing. "Yoah not blowin' it up, are ya? That's the only communicator we got. If it ain't fixed, there's no way ta contact anybody else, Scott's group o' Kit-Kat's."

"But no pressure?" Gambit joked, wryly.

"Didn't think the World's Greatest Thief needed reassurance ta know he could keep his mission t'gether."

They'd split up from Shadowcat, Colossus, and Mystique. The other group was following Gambit's instructions, trying to free the hostages, while Rogue and Gambit found themselves again alone, and on the path towards the command room. Scott's group had been notified. The problems, of course, had started when the communicator had began acting up, beeping loudly. In endeavoring to fix it, Gambit had accidentally worsened the problem. Now, it didn't do anything. He glared at the object, but found it immune to his cold stares. "Chere, not only do I not need reassurance... I don't need a communicator, neither."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Y'all can't fix it, can ya?"

"Got other t'ings on m' mind."

"So ya can't fix it." She repeated.

"Don't need it, Chere. Dat's all da matters. We have faith in da others, non? An' in ourselves t' get outta any trouble we might wind up in. So why waste time wit' gadgets?"

She sighed. "Can't fix it?"

Gambit stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. "Non. Who built dis junk anyway?"

"The X-men's House Mechanical Genius," She said, as she sat on a discarded box, chewing on the tip of her glove with her teeth. "An' it ain't his fault if yoah clumsy hands broke it."

"Sweet as sugar, ain't you?"

"More like molasses." Rogue corrected.

"Ah, 'course. Well...I'm sure Mystique's trustworthy for now. An' if not, Shadowcat an' Colossus'll find a way t' deal wit' her. We shouldn't waste worries on dat. Plus, we just talked to da others, so there probably won't be any new news in the near future anyway. I t'ink we all right." Facing a lack of options, Rogue agreed with a nod. "We best keep movin', Chere." Gambit took her by the elbows and urged her back up to her feet.

"Okay." She pointed to a door located on the wall farthest from them. "That door goes our way, don't it?"

"Prob'ly." Gambit said. "Unfortunately, though, we're goin' dat way." He pointed directly above the door. Rogue squinted her eyes to see better.

"What, the air vent? Will we fit?"

"Of course, Roguey. Trust me, if dere's anyt'ing I know, it's how t' get into placed I don't belong."

********

Scott took a deep breath and knelt down to feel for the man's pulse. It wasn't like he was searching for life -he was confident his X-men hadn't killed anyone, however sallow and gray the man's face appeared- rather, he was making sure the man hadn't injured himself in his fainting spell and checking the pulse was all part of the routine he'd memorized in class. He valued any chance at routine during bouts of chaos. His gaze traveled up to Jubilee and Pyro, who were locked in a staring game.

"Don't worry," Jubilee said, tear drops beginning to form in the corners of her dark eyes. "We just scared him an eensy, weensy bit. A small show of sparks, and THUD!" She dropped the flat of her hand down hard on the desk, the sound making Pyro blink. He squinted, but kept his eyes open.

"She's telling the truth, mate. The man passed out like a little girl whose just downed a gallon of Jack Daniels." He grinned, "So how did the theft go? Well, I presume, given the bundle you brought in with you?"

Scott took to his feet and nodded, raising his left hand to show off the sack of tapes. "Did you guys find a VCR?"

Without moving too much, Jubilee managed to open a drawer and pull out a remote. "Take the controls, Captain. There's a TV, VCR, and DVD all in the closet behind Kurt." She paused, as the tears began to trickle down her face. "But don't get excited," she said after a moment, "there is absolutely nothing on."

Kurt opened the closet and revealed the screen. He looked to Scott, who threw him the tapes.

"YES!" Jubilee cried out suddenly, throwing back her head in laughter and stamping her feet, while John collapsed down on the table. "Ha ha ha! I am the Staring Contest Queen!"

Scott took a seat. "Are we ready now?"

"I am. I don't know about Mr. Loser of the Tournament!"

Pyro shrugged. "I was distracted by the arrival of our peers, is all. You know, and concerned about the redhead. Sorry we can't all be so selfish and self-centered as to put our energy and efforts into silly games while a friend-in-need may be a videotape away from rescue."

Scott ignored them, pushing the 'play' button. The first video was short and rather boring. It consisted of an interview between two men, who talked more about the weather and the local football game than the mutant issue.

The second tape was much more useful.

The picture at first was plain and uneventful. The camera, evidently resting on someone's shoulder, was capturing a speaker, someone standing in front of city hall. Thin and tall, the speaker, preaching a pro-mutant message, seemed weary. His voice played like a horn kept in a dusty attic, out of tune to the crowds ears. Then, in a swift change of events, someone pushed the man aside. The camera rocked a bit, but steadied as the new speaker cleared his voice.

"Friends, neighbors" this second person spoke out, in a clear, strong voice, "there is a threat. Yes, that much you understand. A threat to the peace which has long thrived in our little community. But please, I don't want to scare you. Fear is only for those who too weak to change things. For the rest of us, there is something called courage. My friends, my family, the only way to stop the threat is to eliminate its cause. What is that cause?"

There was a great, powerful pause, and the tension slowly crawled up higher and higher.

"Our outward differences," The man said, answering himself. "There is enough uniqueness in our hearts, we don't need it in our faces as well."

Kurt widened his eyes. "Well, zat's not nice."

"No," St. John agreed. "Not at all. I'd like to catch the man between a set of candles and explore the uniqueness of his insides."

The video man continued, stepping down into the crowds so that his plump, cheerful face was no longer visible. "The means by which we do this, the means by which we ease the suffering and violence and hatred in the world, is simple. Its an approach called Tough Love for Humanity, and it utilizes what we know of Natural Law and evolution. Its believed, if we stifle the bizarre and troublesome adaptations of mankind, if we suffocate our problems, then nature will recognize that her adjustments aren't working, and she will stop making them! As a species, we will be stronger and more peaceful in the end!"

"You're out of your mind!" An unseen man in the crowd said. "How can any of you stand here, and listen to him? It's wrong. He's wrong. These problems, as you call them, are people. Humans."

"Of course you'd say that, George" someone else shouted. "I've seen that daughter of yours flying over your house when you think its too dark for anyone to see. She probably got the gene from you!"

"They're everywhere!" Came the agreement. "Hidden, disguised to look just like us. You don't know where you're safe, anymore. They infiltrate our lives, slipping in right under our noses!"

"It's like a nightmare!"

"It's like Hell!"

"We've got to get rid of them!" The X-men watched, and even though it wasn't live, a sick feeling took them all. They'd seen enough real life examples of anti-mutantism to know what it must have felt like to be there when it was happening. On video, the mob began to move, to pulse, as the cries grew angrier, meaner. The man called George became the fast target. But he was not alone. Instantly, several of the people came to his aid, including one woman within the camera's vision, who shed her hat and sunglasses to reveal hair and eyes the color of amethyst.

"You're going to hurt him," the woman shouted. "Let him go." She grabbed someone's shoulder, and was pushed violently back. That's when the fight broke out. The camera held steady as its carrier put distance between himself and the fight.

"I'm not seeing Jean anyvhere." Kurt sighed after another moment of violence.

"Unless she walked right by the camera, we might not see her at all..." Scott leaned back, chin to palm, and narrowed his eyes. "Does anyone else notice that every now and then, we get a glimpse of ladies standing to the camera man's left? They're elderly ladies, white hair, upper to middle class clothing. But they're not... doing anything. They're just...standing there. Like they're waiting."

"For what?" Pryo asked.

"I haven't a clue. But look," He froze the picture so they could see what he was seeing. Sure enough, a small group of women were there.

"Wait a second," Jubilee bit her nail. "I know who they are... after I lost Jean, I ran into one. She was helping someone... this tall, limping guy. I was about to ask if she'd seen Jean, but this other man pulled me away. He said he'd seen me do my thing, you know, with the sparks, and that I wouldn't get anything but trouble if I talked to her. He said she was a sympathizer... for the other side. He said it was their deal, these guys come around stirring up trouble, and they bring the mom types to take care of them afterwards, so that it looks like mutants are the trouble makers."

"Zat's low."

"Tell me about it."

Scott said, "So...if you'd just kidnapped someone and were looking to throw off suspicion, where would you hide the person? Near yourself... or near your innocent-seeming mom? No one's going to raid an old lady's home."

"No one but us, right?" Pyro sighed. "I've never sunk so low until I met you all."

"Just pull me up a list of the suspected Golden members, and cross reference it with women living in this area. Kurt and I will watch the other videos. Unless a miracle happens and Jean wanders by a camera man, the lady thing might be our best lead."

*****

"Remy," Rogue said, attempting conversation to distract her from the way the bottom of the vent kept rubbing against her sunburned forearms. "What do ya think Magneto would do if he caught you? He wouldn't kill you, would he? Wouldn't that be a little drastic?"

"Honestly, Chere, I dunno. He was workin' on a big project, I can tell you dat. This must've put him behind schedule. So, I can guess dat it's not gonna be anyt'in' pleasant. Murder? Torture? Slow death by a thousand paper cuts?" He laughed out loud. "I spent enough time wit' assassins t' know dere are a hundred thousand different ways t' harm a person."

"Why would you keep company with assassins?"

"You know us men. We do anyt'in' for a pretty face, non? M' girlfriend, Belladonna, was da assassin heir."

"Ugh. What'd she stand ta inherit? A closet full o' shrunken heads an' dismembered corpses?" Rogue tried to picture this girlfriend, and found herself unable to come up with anything other than a drabby, fat, stupid girl with missing teeth and matted hair. Probably not a realistic picture, Rogue knew, but an entertaining one nonetheless.

"Well dat," Remy said. "An' several million dollars...an army o' minions...nothin' I don't also get."

"Oh, really?" She pondered that; little by little she was beginning to understand what world Gambit was from -a place where organized thieves and killers intermingled on the streets of New Orleans. It all sounded like the plot of a mystery novel, but Remy mentioned it with such ease and detail and all the right touches of nostalgia; it had to be real. She stared at the bottom of Remy's shoes, which were aligned with her face. "So what made ya join Magneto in the first place?"

"C'n we talk about sometin' else? I'd like t' postpone dis discussion t' later, if y' don't mind."

Rogue sighed. "Just crawl faster."

********

Handsome. Talkative. Disturbing.

Red tried to reconcile the strange feeling she'd gotten when Alma's son, Christopher, had arrived at the house. He'd come with hands full of flowers for his mother, smiling widely, asking questions about their week. There hadn't been anything at all to make her doubt his kindness and sincerity. Nothing, really...except a feeling.

He seemed to have an open, pleasant personality, and for a moment, Red chided herself for worrying too much.
The voices are obviously messing up your head, Red. Alma's son has arrived, and he can help you figure out where you belong. He's here to HELP. And here you are, looking for things wrong with the boy.

But then he sat down at the kitchen table with the two older women, the door halfway closed, and begun talking in a much more hushed, reserved voice. They mentioned something about a 'lack of time' and 'a big demonstration'. From her position on the couch, Red frowned, wishing she could hear what was going on. Her eyes wandered over to the water pitcher, which was sitting innocently a table near the kitchen door. She stood up and walked over to it, careful to not attract attention.

"She's lost, Chris." Alma was saying. "Her parents are probably going crazy, looking for her. I know I'd be terrified if you suddenly vanished after a fight with the mutants."

"I know that, mom. But...we've got the mutant coming to us! It's perfect. Everyone's gonna wanna be watching, I don't know if we have time to... time to waste."

They're working against the mutants again, Red. Why are they so against them? And why aren't you, also? You think it's wrong, right? That's something. If you're not anti-mutant, what were you doing at that rally? Are you pro-mutant?

Red felt all the more confused. If she was pro-mutant then...

You don't belong with these people. Maybe you sensed it when Christopher came in. You're no mind reader, but it's like you felt his bad thoughts about mutants. That's why you're so apprehensive about him. You don't want him to take you deeper into the anti-mutant scene. But that's where this might be headed if you stay here.

Red sighed. If she left, however, she'd be alone in a strange place with no identity.

Of course, you could always go to the police. You're not scared, like they are.

She looked to the door. She could do it.

She might have to do it. To leave, before they convinced Christopher to help her. It was surprisingly easy to reconcile herself with that deciscion. Then, in a great rush, Red sought out a pencil and paper. The former, she saw between two books on a bookshelf and the latter... she grabbed it from the top of the coffee table so quick, it almost seemed like the paper had flown out and met her hand halfway. She scribbled a thank you note, added an apology, and then quietly made her way out of the house.

It was bright and warm. Sunny California. She cast a nervous glance around.

*****

They were walking now on solid ground.

"Dis way, Chere." Gambit led Rogue down a hallway, his eyes searching for something unseen. Cameras, he'd explained to her. They could be hidden anywhere. So far, he'd put out seven obvious ones, and then destroyed over ten more objects, or parts of the carpet, that had looked innocent enough to Rogue, but not to the Cajun. So far as guards were concerned, they'd encountered only three. Rogue had silently absorbed them all.

She was surprised. She'd imagined that Golden was crawling with little rat-like soldiers, ready to shoot her down at every turn of a corner. But, as Remy had been quick to remind her, sometimes there's no better way to stop an enemy than to surprise him. She had to watch herself.

As if to confirm that thought, a woman appeared in their view, her gun raised and waiting. Even with the distance, Rogue could see her clearly: black hair pinned back tightly at the nape of her neck, posture slightly droopy, as if her body weren't yet used to the weight of the heavy uniform, lipstick too red for the lighting and her complexion. Her gun angle was off too, tilted downwards, so that she'd stand a better chance of shooting their legs than their heads and hearts. Or maybe she just hasn't had Mystique's survival course, Rogue. It didn't matter, though, Rogue instantly disliked her anyway. Sloppy people and too much power was never a likable combination.

The guard had seen them. Her hand tensed around the trigger of the gun. "Hey you, freeze! Both of you," She cried. "What the hell are you doing here? We don't give tours."

"What's the plan?" Rogue asked Gambit, whispering.

"No talking!"

"I'll handle dis one." Gambit answered, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I said shut up! And put your hands in the air unless you want me to blow them off!"

Gambit complied, but lazily. It was almost eerie how quickly he switched between Thief In The Hallway to Lover Stepping Out of Bed In The Morning. "No need t' scream, mon cheri, I'll put m' hands anywhere you want dem." He took a step forward, brightening his features with half-grin. "Don't tell me dey let pretty girls like you do dangerous jobs like dis. Surely, wit' a face like yo's, y' deserve t' live in an ivory tower an' be waited on, hand an' foot, non?"

"Ugh. Tell me girls don't actually fall for that kind of line." The woman spat. "Now be quiet and go back where the girl is standing." Her tone was harsh, but Rogue was sure she'd heard a hesitation. Remy defied her again, and got closer.

"I wanna obey, but truthfully, da only female I've been able t' see since you crossed paths wit' me, was you." Now his tone had changed also, growing lower, softly, making his the kind of voice that people lean in to hear, so that they don't miss a word. And though they were close by now, Remy and the guard, she didn't fail to deliver.

"You're an idiot." She exclaimed, but Rogue knew the insult wasn't an insult at all. It was more like...flirting. Remy'd won, the guard was actually flirting with him. Apparently, he worked fast. "Step back, now." The guard purred.

Purred? Couldn't she at least play hard ta get?

"Don't t'ink I could tear m'self away from you."

And Remy, well, Remy IS an idiot. A good actor, though. Don't know if Ah'll ever be able ta believe those lines o' his again.

"I got a job to do, Mutant. You're not going to persuade me to put down this gun."

Gag.

"Not even if I say pretty please?"

Double gag. Hasn't this gone on far enough? What happened ta our limited time?

The lady giggled. Suddenly, she was not a heavily armed guard anymore, but a shy, smiling girl. Rogue watched as Gambit whispered something, and slipped his hands around her waist. He works very fast. Whatever their exchanged involved, it ended as soon as Rogue crept up behind them and touched the guard's neck. The contact was brief, but it was enough for the woman to go limp. Rogue giggled, hit by a sudden burst of giddiness the lady had probably been feeling.

Remy raised an eyebrow. "I was tryin' t' interrogate her, t' see if she could verify our path, hand over some hidden key..."

"Well," Rogue reached into the guard's boot and grabbed a skinny card that had been shoved inside. She shrugged. "Mah way is better. We get the information, save time, and get rid o' the annoyin' lady! Ta da!"

"Oh, I get it," Remy said, slyly.

"Ah should hope so. Mah point was fairly obvious."

"It was, wasn't it?"

She frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Why do Ah get the idea we aren't thinkin' the same thing?"

"You're jealous, Roguey, an' I gotta tell you, it's downright adorable."

She glared. "Jealous? That's a good one, Remy. Now can we hurry up an' be on our merry way? Which, incidentally, will be a lot more merry now that we've got this key."

"MmmHmm." He gestured towards the hall. "After you, m'lady."

She glared at him. "Stop thinkin' Ah'm jealous. Ah know yoah still thinkin' it."

"I'm not."

"Yes, ya are."

"Nope."

"Ah hate you, Gambit." She said, as she pushed her way past him.

He smiled after her. "Love you too, Chere."

*****

Red didn't know what direction to go in. Her grand idea had turned out to be a little bit..less grand. All the houses looked the same, they all blended together in a mix of pastels, with the same kind of fences, the same type of trees, even the cars were startlingly similar after a while...it was like suburb hell.

This is straight out of Edward Scissorhands, Red. And guess who's the lost, misunderstood one now? It's YOU! Damn this... Instinctively, she bit her tongue and stopped the thought before it could lead to something inappropriate. Inappropriate? Why censure my thoughts? They're mine. Goodness knows they're all I've got right now. Nevertheless, she tried to focus herself on more positive things.

The walk hadn't been so long. The scenery was lovely. And if she could just find a public building or something, then she could call a taxi.

Except you don't have any money, smart girl. Whoever I am, I make me sick. No identification, no money, no nothing. You must not have a very exciting life, Red, if you don't need those basic things. This is probably the most thrilling thing that's happened to you, like, ever. And does this stupid headache EVER go away?

She resisted the urge to yank at her hair. Keep walking. Just keep walking and you'll find something.

Several cars drove by. One, a shiny black one, sped by her so fast the hair on her neck stood up. The next, a clunky gray toyota left her choking on its exhaust. But it was the third car that left a truly lasting impression. Two of its passengers saw her. There was a boy in the front, who just sat, staring blankly in her direction, and another boy in the back, who widened his eyes. The car kept moving.

That was... odd.

I've got the strangest feeling...

Then, the car came screeching back. The boy in the backseat was hitting the boy in the front seat with a newspaper, while a third party, a girl, laughed. But it was the driver who caught and held Red's attention, as he jumped out of the car and came around towards her. She couldn't see his eyes through the ruby-colored sunglasses he wore, but she could tell that he was staring intently at her.

He's really cute, isn't he?

Cute, Red? For all you know, he could be a mass murderer. A crazed killer who dangles his victims from rooftops and cuts open their stomachs so they can watch their own internal organs fall thousands of feet to the ground before they too, take the big plunge. But by all means, waste your time wondering whether his hair is chestnut brown, or more of a deeper, darker color.

It doesn't matter. It goes perfectly with those red glasses.

He was near her now, near enough to grab her and throw her in the car, should that be his intention. Of course, he didn't. He kept the four feet between them. A smile slowly dawned across his face, as though he couldn't believe his own good luck. "Jean? Oh my God, Jean." He laughed in amazement.

Jean? She froze.

And then he stepped closer, enveloped her in a tight hug and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

Can you hear me now, Jeannie? I haven't been able to get a clear connection through our, uh, link. I've been worried sick. What have you been doing? Where were you all this time?

Red didn't know what to say. His voice was inside her head. He kept calling her Jean, and kissing her. Am I dating a telepath?

He pulled back, just a little. What?

Oh God, he heard me. He is a telepath.

Jean, what's the matter? It's me, Scott. And I'm no telepath.

I um, I'm sorry. I have amnesia. I fell during a riot near the Eureka City Hall. If you're not a... a telepath, then how come I can hear you inside me?

He sighed. "Amnesia. Oh, jeez...wow. Well, here. You're uh, Jean Grey, um, my, uh...."

"Girlfriend?" She guessed. "Unless you go around kissing all of your regular friends."

"Yeah," He blushed, sweetly. "My girlfriend. The thing is Jean, I can explain this a lot better if you help me find our link. It's a mental connection that lets us share...things."

"Things?"

"Thoughts...feelings...look, you're the telepath, Jean. A telekinetic telepath. We've known each other for a long time, and several trying experiences that promted a link between us. That's how you heard me in your head. Uh, you seem okay, but has your head been bothering you? A telepath whose not aware of her powers can experience great difficulty."

"It's been bothering me a little..." She confessed.

"Just a little? Good. Maybe your subconscious has been taking care of the rest. That's... good. Um, look, we need that connection up and running for the rest of this mission, so..." He bit his lip. "I've never tried to find it myself, you usually take care of that, but we'll have to try, okay?" I'm here again, but don't worry. Just follow the sound of my voice.

She did. It was a strange sensation, to be traveling through one's own mind. But it was easy to focus on this Scott person, he was like a bright beacon in the middle of a murky night. And his head was so organized. She saw his worry -worry for her, and for others who seemed vaguely familiar. Most of his feelings and thoughts, however, were neatly boxed away.

Then she saw him. He was standing there, offering his hand. As their fingers met, she felt the light surround her, warm and soothing, like a glass of milk before bed. She shut her eyes...

And opened them again as Jean Grey. "It worked," She murmered, not needing to explain it, really, because Scott could feel her again through the link.

Inside her mind, the world kept spinning, and with each rotation, she'd learn more and more. She found out about the marriage between Rogue and Remy and thought it surprising, but sort of funny. Their relationship was touching, really, from what she saw through Scott's eyes. The cult thing was like most cult things are: a bit bizarre, better left unanalyzed. And Golden...

"You're wrong," Jean said, after a minute of processing.

"What?"

"You assumed I'd been taken for their weird demonstration, but I wasn't. They didn't know I was a mutant. They wanted to help me find my parents. I did overhear them say that the mutant they were looking for was coming to them at their base. And you said Rogue and Gambit's team is at Golden's base. I think you better contact them, Scott.

"Kurt was just trying. We can't get through. To any of them." He groaned.

****

"We really are the best, aren't we?" Rogue said, as she leaned against the command room door. "We're Undefeatable Rogue, and her handy sidekick, Wonder Cajun."

"Wonder Cajun?" Gambit repeated. "Sidekick? Let's not forget who did most o' da hard work here."

"Right. So, how 'bout Ah cram ten personalities into yoah head, an' then we talk about whether or not mah job is easy." She rested her forehead on the door and stared at the silver handle. All she had to do was slide the key, pull the handle, and they'd have reached their destination.

"We call it a draw den. An' let's keep Gambit as m' codename, oui? Not dat Wonder Cajun isn't da second best possibility."

"Okay." She said, fingering the key.

"Wait!" Gambit said, suddenly.

She looked alarmed. "What is it? Another camera? More guards?"

He shook his head. "Non... A gentleman always opens a door for a lady." He bowed, allowed her to step back, and then assumed her position next to the door. He yanked key through and opened the door widely. "Watch out inside."

"Yeah, Ah know. Ah'll be smooth as butter on a warm grill." She advanced inside. The room looked empty. Just a long row of computers, a few cabinets, wine-colored carpets, a water dispenser, and a trash can. But for the computers, it could have been the inside of a dentist's office. They'd expected a fight, at least a small one, but there weren't any people around, either. "Remy," She wondered aloud, "Are we in the right place? Where is everyone?"

"Precisely where they ought to be," a cold female voice intoned. Like a scene out of Star Wars, a side wall opened up and there stood a figure Rogue recognized from the computer: Ami Lorrell. Clothed in combat pants, a white t-shirt, an old baseball cap which struggled to contain white strands of hair, and wearing an expression of disgust, she looked every bit the old shrew. From behind her, a large group of uniformed men came rushing foreword.

Rogue snapped her head in Gambit's direction, but found he'd been rendered unconscious. His legs slumped, and a needle stuck out of his neck. More shocking still was the strong, but slender blue arms which held him up. Rogue felt her jaw slip open. "Mystique?" It didn't make sense. If there was one thing always consistent about Mystique, it was the absolute loathing she felt for people like Lorrell. Why would she be cooperating with them now?

"She won't answer you," Lorrell called, as the guards circled Rogue, like vultures waiting for a straggling lioness to collapse on the hard, rough dirt. "She's not herself. I'm afraid your mother has been found guilty of trespassing onto private property. We've assumed control of her actions until further notice."

Someone, one of the guards who'd gotten to close, touched Rogue's arm. Caught off guard, she gasped, while the man fell.

"So it's true," Lorrell remarked with interest, "You really do steal people's souls. You know, you're quite the catch. After we found Mystique, we thought we'd use her. But her mind probe revealed a mutant so perfectly fitted to our needs...you...and then, when you showed up, just hours later. It's fate, I guess."

Rogue's eyes went wide when she realized what Lorrell was saying. They'd been pulling Mystique's strings since they'd arrived, which meant... "Kitty..."

"Ah yes. You're partners. The little one is proving slippery, but well have her contained with her steely companion shortly." Lorrell nodded, crisply, to someone, and Rogue felt her knees buckle. She saw a needle clatter to the floor. The world went black.

*******

"Miss Lorrell, what should we do with the trespasser, now that we've got her daughter?"

"Remove the chip. We'll need it for this one. Then get rid of her."

"Yes, ma'am. Can't say I'm sorry to hear those orders. The freak nearly stuck a piece of glass in Herb's eye when we were trying to sedate her. And, she blew up the whole conference room."

"Like I said, get rid of her."

****

"Ah've been havin' the weirdest dream," Rogue said, her voice as thick and groggy as the haze of semi-sleep that surrounded her. Her eyes weren't completely open yet, but she knew Remy was nearby. The cologne-cigarette smell wafted through the air, and there was the unmistakable sound of shuffling cards. She rolled over to her side and yawned.

"Some dream." Remy said. He gave an audible sigh. "How y' feelin', Chere? Y' head hurt? Y' arm botherin' you?"

Now that he mentioned it, a spot above her elbow stung slightly. Not the kind of pain that would merit her concern, but since he'd brought it up, she told him about it. "Good," he said, surprising her. "It means da feelin's almost back." She felt his hand on the back of her head, tangling with her hair, coaxing her up.

"Mebbe y' better sit, Chere. Sometimes a person comin' out of a Renoxilin sleep gets nauseous."

"What's Renoxilin?" She asked, lazily.

"A knock-out drug."

Her green eyes shot wide open. Perhaps too quickly, because the sudden burst of dreary gray -the walls, the ceiling, the metal floor, the thick door- stirred the contents of her stomach. She swung her hands up to cover her mouth, prompting Remy to jump away. "Careful, Chere."

She was about to ask him what he meant, when she realized her fingers were unnaturally cold. They were bare. "Mah gloves," she cried. That's when it all came back like a bad nightmare: Lorrell, the drugs, Mystique... Suddenly, she wished she hadn't woken up.

"Dere's not a lot o' time t' waste now. They've completed da lil' collection dey need for da demonstration. They won't risk holdin' us all for a long time. Whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen soon."

"How long ago did you wake up?" She asked. There was something about him that was... different. Wrong, somehow. Something she couldn't place.

"Not sure." He knelt down on the ground and began feeling his way along the base of the wall.

She licked her lips and nodded. She didn't like being suspicious of him, but she couldn't help it. "They said Mystique wasn't in control o' her actions. They'd taken over her, probed her mind...how could they do that, Remy?"

"Again, Cheri, not sure. Want m' guess?" He stopped at one specific space near the wall. "A while ago, I heard about dis gadget...y' put it on a person, and dey don't even know it's on 'em, let's you control how much o' their memory dey have access too. Da only clue is dat da chip scratches."

Rogue thought back to Mystique's frequent ear-rubbing. "Ah thought she'd been bitten by a mosquito."

"Me too. Anyway, it's hooked up t' a computer. Y' can also get control o' their actions. Didn't t'ink da gadget would work any, but apparently, I was wrong, non?"

"Oh..." He certainly has a lot o' answers. She moved to the other side of the cell, still watching him. He seemed an awful lot like Remy. His posture, his frown, his accent, his cards, and most telling of all, her ring visible on his neck. But why had he been able to keep his things, and she'd lost half of her own? Why she get the feeling that he wasn't quite normal?

"Oui. Listen, I'm gonna need you t' get as far away from..." He turned to look at her, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Guess y' already moved."

"Guess so."

He gave her a funny look. His lips bent in a quirkly, curious smile. "Roguey, is somet'in' wrong? I mean, besides da obvious."

"No."

He shook his head. "Y' lyin'."

"Ah'm not."

"Roguey, I know y' lyin'. Da more y' try t' hide yo' worry, da more obvious it is."

"Don't know what yoah talkin' about."

"Chere..." He said, whining like a little kid who's just been told he can't watch an R-rated movie.

She rolled her eyes. "All right, fine. Have it yoah way. Ah think yoah hidin' somethin'. Ah'm not completely certain that you are Remy LeBeau. There's somethin' strange about the way you move, an' ya know an awful lot for someone just speculatin' on how Mystique was controlled."

"You t'ink mebbe I'm Mystique. Dat I'm here t' lead you astray again."

Rogue gave him an even stare. "Frankly, yes."

He grinned. "Well frankly, m' dear, I don't give a damn." He teased, then added, "Just kiddin'. Chere, da reason I'm able t' guess about Mystique what a fair amount o' confidence is 'cause a while ago, someone approached da Guild, offerin' t' sell us similar devices. Like I said, we didn't t'ink it' work. Plus da damn Assasins gotta have their hands in everyt'ing we do. It too dangerous a concept to introduce. But it looks like someone accepted da offer. As for m' movements, I'll admit dey may be a bit off, wit' good cause. Did y' wonder how I knew we'd been given Renoxilin?"

She shook her head no, though it ought to have been one of her first questions. He explained. "I'm allergic to it, Roguey." He came closer and pulled up his sleeves. Up close, she saw his skin had taken on a red hue, and all the muscles of his arms and hands were tensed. They trembled, slightly. Careful to not touch him, she moved his collar, surprised to see a large, swollen bump where the needle had been.

"Oh mah Gawd."

He shrugged. "I'm a survivor. Remember dat when you leave me here, okay?" Gambit walked back to the area he'd chosen. He managed to work his nails beneath it, and lifted the slab upwards and over to the side. "Da grounds not as t'ick as it looks. Dere's a tunnel underneath it. I saw it on da maps. Leads y' home better'n da yellow brick road. Except home's really da command center an' da tunnels not really yellow, an' there ain't likely t' be furry lil' woodland creatures helpin' you along." She saw the tunnel as he moved away from it.

A thought occurred to her. "What do ya mean, leavin' ya here?"

"We need t' be efficient. Dere's no tellin' what kind o' reaction I'll have next. Violent spasms? Lapses of consciousness? It's a lil' tunnel. I can't make it quietly. Can't risk it."

Rogue frowned. She couldn't just leave him. She wouldn't just leave him. She tried rationalizing it out. "Well, what if Ah need yoah powers t' help me along?"

"Well, Roguey. It's rather convenient -in more ways dan one- dat y' don't have t' be wit'out m' powers just 'cause I ain't dere."

Her eyes widened as she realized what he was suggesting. "Ah'm not gonna touch ya!" She cried, shrinking back, as though he were offering her a bucket of slugs. "Yoah outta yoah mind."

Gambit was not about to back down. "It makes sense," he insisted. "Considerin'. Besides, I can explain which turns t' take, but what if you forget? It'll be so much easier if y' just take it from me. Remember da Boyscout motto: be prepared."

"Ah ain't a boy."

"Believe me, I've noticed." He smiled, and reached out for her. "C'mon, Chere. I finally found an excuse t' really kiss you. Y' gonna steal a golden opporunity like dat from me?"

"Better that than yoah soul."

"Promise t' give it back, an' we'll say yo' just borrowin' it."

She faltered. Sick as he was, he was beautiful standing there in the dark, his crimson eyes looking to her imploringly, the auburn hair messily pointing in all directions. She wanted to go to him, but she didn't dare. "What if Ah don't absorb the right memories? Then you'll be unconscious, an' Ah won't know where ta go."

"You'll just have t' keep touchin' me then, 'til you get it right. I could t'ink o' worse fates."

"Yoah ill. Losin' strength now might 'cause all sorts o' problems."

"We don't have much choice. I'm willin' t' take dat risk."

"Ah'm not."

"It's not yo' choice t' make, Roguey." His tone had changed again. It was almost a warning. Almost a growl, a subtle hint that he wasn't really asking for her cooperation anymore, but demanding it. She'd never know if it he used his powers of persuasion on her, or if the drug was still impacting her judgement, or if he'd just managed to wiggle his way past her infamously stubborn nature. It didn't matter.

Reluctantly, unhappily, she closed the space between them and allowed herself to be drawn again into his embrace. He held her close for a few moments. He laughed suddenly, and she could feel the rumble in his chest through the thin material. "Chere, you be makin' seem like you never gonna see dis Cajun again. Trust me, if it were dat easy t' get rid o' me, I'd have been dead a long time ago."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She mumbled.

He pulled her back, just a little bit, and tucked a strand of white hair behind her left ear. "I've wanted t' kiss you, even before I really liked you, know dat? Y' just so damn pretty."

"Aw shucks. Don't make me blush." She answered sarcastically. "Ah just-"

She cut her off her sentence abruptly, not from any lack of cynical remarks, but because he didn't wait to kiss her. Just like that, he dipped his head, and pressed his lips against her own.

It wasn't fair really.

At first she felt only the physical things: the warmth of his lips, the strength of his arms, the renegade strands of auburn hair that that wilted towards her and tickled her forehead. It was entirely pleasant, an experience akin to running through the sprinklers on a sunny day, or biting into a chocolate cake for the first time in six months; she just wanted to hold on and let it last forever.

And then she felt him smile, and his happiness was her happiness. A feeling she couldn't quite place settled over her, warm and comforting and soft, as though someone had slipped a blanket over her heart. She was almost ready to forgive Lorrell and all of Golden, because she felt too good to hold onto anger. All of this lasted so long, impossibly long, so that somewhere in the corner in of her mind, a voice asked: what if you're powers didn't kick in at all? What if you got to kiss Remy whenever you liked, and he didn't crumble over like an old teddy bear?

What if...

But it didn't last. Suddenly, she felt the familiar tingle, the pitter-patter of a thousand microscopic feet along her skin. Suddenly, her mind was not her own, but the home of too many foreign thoughts and memories. Suddenly, Remy was not supporting her anymore, but rather, clinging. He slipped away, down to the ground.

Rogue herself had to fight to keep standing. Absorbing someone, especially a person as powerful as Remy, was a trying experience, both invigorating and draining. The Remy Thoughts and Feelings warred for control with her own mind, but she'd gotten better at controlling the voices in her head. She swallowed them like a pill, with closed eyes and a big gulp, shoving it all down deeper inside her.

When she was confident she could move again, she crouched down beside Remy.

Oh mah Gawd. What've Ah done?

Not'in' I didn't ask y' too, he answered back.

She took a step back.

It felt incredible; her body seemed to move a few seconds faster, her weight seemed lighter, her walk more controlled and graceful. It was some intangible, almost indiscernible difference, as though she'd stepped back into a slightly altered reality. Absorbing mutants was often an experience - a kick, a jolt, the kind of occurrence that makes you pause for a millisecond and want to gasp- but walking in Remy's shoes outdid them all. Perhaps because his powers were married to his thoughts and emotions, and they all contributed to the dizzy, warm, soupy sensation that coursed through her body.

Pull yoahself t'gether, Rogue. Ya can't just stand here, starin' at LeBeau with bleary eyes an' a mixed up head. He's layin' on the floor for a reason -so you can go do yoah business. The longer ya take ta finish yoah task, the greater the chance that they'll find Remy when yoah gone.

The logical voice was strong, and probably influenced by Remy. Nevertheless, it was not an easy thing he asked of her. She never thought she'd use the word 'helpless' to describe the fast-talking, wily Cajun, but he lay there with closed eyes and limp limbs, just barely breathing on his own and no other word would suffice.

What's done is done. Move on.

Rogue nodded, though there was no one around to see. She bend down and straightened his shirt, careful to not make contact and do any more damage. As she was fixing his collar, she noticed the twinkling of a ring dangling from the thinnest of chains around his neck. She delicately pulled it off and slung it over her own head, where it clattered and chimed as it met it's golden counterpart. "Don't go gettin' into any more trouble, boy." She sighed. The last thing she did was take a disc he had hidden on himself. It holds a virus, she understood. Was gonna use it on the computer place.

Then, she walked over to the tunnel he'd revealed. Giving Remy's body one last, sad look, she dropped herself into the small tunnel. It was a tight fit inside, the sort of cramped space that made Storm sweat, and everyone else cringe because it would be so easy to get stuck. On top of that, it was difficult to navigate. The tiny tunnel spawned a million side tunnels. Thankfully, Rogue found herself following some bizarre inner-compass, as if someone were reading her brain the instructions.

How do Ah know this? She asked. An image of the blueprint Mystique had supplied entered her head. Ah, of course. The map. Remy studied that for a while. Didn't realize he had such a fantastic memeory.

As she moved, she heard noises above her head, and realized that Remy had been correct in his guess: the barrier between her head and their feet was very thin. The slightest bang on her part might've alerted them to her position.

His plan was almost childishly simple, the sort of questionable scheme that worked in movies but failed to convince skeptics. This time around, there would be real soldiers. The game Golden had been playing was over, so that meant business as usual, except, perhaps, for the few men who were still in pursuit of Shadowcat. Rogue would partially charge the hallways leading up to the command station -two places in particular. The first would draw as many soldiers as possible away from the room. The second would explode and cave in the space around the doorway, so that there was no way to enter or leave. Rogue would quickly enter the room by way of her own homemade entrance - a hole she'd blow open herself.

Of course, there was a lot of estimating involved. She'd be more or less guessing where it was that the hallway ended and where the room began. Rogue found herself glad that she'd paid attention to Logan's rigorous training sessions, especially the ones on direction and distances. She'd never roll her eyes at his unlikely scenarios again.

Not that Ah'm gonna tell him that, she thought, as she laid her hands on the ceiling that doubled as a floor. Bright sparks began to crackle and fly, and the glow spread to the area where her hands were. It took a lot out of her to keep the space from blowing up right away, and left a strange pressure in her body. But Rogue ignored it, charged the second spot, and went to place which she hoped was the center of the command center.

Anticipation filled her. Ah'm gonna enjoy puttin' mah fist into someone's nose.

She let the first charge blow. She heard the ground groan and shriek and break, and then footsteps thundered loudly above her head. It was like listening to a stampede of elephants, the way the sound was tossed around the cramped tunnel. After a moment more, she released the second charge. It was infinitely quieter that second time.

Taking a deep breath, reminding herself that she'd have to move fast to survive, Rogue let go of the last charge. Relief shook through her as the pressure stopped pounding in her blood, but things were far from over. She vaulted up quickly through the space and spun around to assess her situation.

"They're gone. All except for me."

Lorrell.

This time, she wasn't accompanied by a mob of soldiers, nor had she assumed any attack position. The older woman was seated at a desk, typing into the computer as Rogue stared on, her only defense a large gun -Rogue recognized it as Mystique's- resting in her lap.

"I thought you'd escape." She said, indifferently "One of you, it seemed, would make your way here. I let them chase your ghost anyway. I figured, I'd subdue you myself." Her fingers stilled on the keyboard, and she turned to look Rogue in the eye. Up close, her age was clear; there were lines beneath her eyelids, around her mouth, and on her forehead. But most telling was the expression, so hardened, cruel, and tired.

Rogue was not intimidated. She couldn't be, there was too much of her own anger boiling up inside her, like lava gurgling at the top of a volcano. She fisted her hands and took a step forward. "You an' Ah both know that ain't gonna happen."

Lorrell smiled, lifted the gun and fired. Her aim was remarkable, but Rogue sprang backwards and out of the way just in time. But her foot tangled with a cord, and she fell, pulling down one set of tables with her. Her back absorbed most of the blow, and she winced, imaging the dark purple and blue splotches that would probaby appear by the morning.

Sighing, Rogue forced herself up. The gun, thankfully, had to be recharged.

"I can't understand you freaks." Lorrell said. "You, for example. You just sucked away your husband's soul, didn't you? I can see it in your eyes...literally." She help up the reflective part of the gun; the picture was blurry, but clear enough for Rogue to see her own red-eyed reflection. She looked away. Lorrell continued, "And what a boyfriend he was to actually stick by you when he could have someone like Belladonna. We couldn't resist a quick look inside his head. You've seen Bella, haven't you?"

Rogue kept her poker face. She had, in fact, seen Bella. Sort of. The long-legged, sensuality-oozing Goldylocks of Remy's memories didn't exactly match the ugly girl she'd been hoping for, nevertheless, she refused to be jealous. So Remy had grown up with a beautiful blonde girl. He was with her now. The past didn't matter. Much.

What was very important was the Now. The gun beeped, signifying that it was recharged. Lorrell fired at her again, but Rogue slipped behind a filing cabinet and was spared. Taking note of the 30 seconds the gun needed to charge, she danced closer to Lorrell, countering the older woman's steps, refusing to keep the distance between them.

She felt around for a card and did a brief, elegant flip over Lorrell's head, landing on the desk behind her. She peered down at her enemy and shook her head. "Ya wanna know what yoah problem is? Ya underestimate me." Energy instantly blazed up from the card, and she let it flitter downwards.

Lorrell rolled her eyes and tried to wave the card away with her gun. She did so successfully, but left herself open to physical attacks. The second before card disintegrated into harmless glowing ash, Rogue rammed herself into the standing woman, knocking her off balance. Lorrell reeled sideways, and Rogue reached over and artfully touched the very tip of her finger to the woman's bare neck, until Lorrell was completely unconscious.

We really are the perfect team, Rogue told herself, noting how easy things had gone with the combination of both her and Remy's strengths.

An' Ah must be gettin' better at this, she thought, as it took her only seconds to swallow up the unwanted memories and emotions. Stealin' people's souls don't even phase me anymore. Or, she reasoned, as she searched Lorrell, maybe it was just the fact that absorbing Remy had affected her so much that made everything else pale. She felt something hard inside Lorrell's shirt pocket. It was a disc. What the hell...tryin' ta sneak information away, are we?

"One minute and thirty seconds." The computer bleeped all of a sudden. She looked up, sharply, and saw it.

A timer.

Lorrell had set off the self-destruction mode.

"Aw, damn it!" Rogue cried out. Ah hate you, she thought bitterly, glaring at the lump at her feet. Forcing herself to focus, she crushed the Golden disc beneath her shoe, pretending it was Lorrell's head. Rogue then slammed Remy's virus disc into the computer slot and watched the program start itself. As a happy-go-lucky Jack of Spades danced across the screen, she thought about Remy. He was unconscious, there was no way for him to escape before the building blew up.

Her instinct was to leave Lorrell. But as Xavier had once said, everyone is tempted to do the wrong thing sometimes, but a good person ignores that temptation. Besides, she reasoned, letting Lorrell go down with the ship would've been too honorable an end for the fiendish criminal. Rogue struggled to lift the woman over her shoulder.

"Thirty seconds to self-destruct."

Rogue looked around, this time uncertain what to do. Maybe it would've been better if Lorrell had remained conscious after all. She looked at the wall and pushed her hand against it, trying to call on Remy's powers again. It was harder now, despite all her better efforts, she was panicking a bit, and couldn't concentrate on anything in particular. Hopelessness hit her like a wave from the ocean.

What about Kitty and Peter? How am Ah gonna help them? The hostages? The soldiers? And Remy...oh Gawd, Ah never should've left Remy alone....

"Fifteen seconds to self destruct."

"Oh, damn." Rogue shut her eyes and winced. Ah knew Ah never should've listened ta that idiot! Never time we're in a potentially fatal situation, Ah'm callin' the shots. O' course, by that time, we'll be nothin' but fragments o' people. Bits o' bone an' dried up flesh an' damn it...this ain't helpin' none.

"Five seconds to self destruct."

Suddenly, she felt as though she were soaring, moving, spinning, and by the time she opened her eyes to see what had happened, she was outside, back in the forest, standing next to Kitty Pryde and Kurt Wagner. In the near distance, the Golden base exploded, coming apart piece by piece, room by room. Lorrell's unconscious body slipped down from her aching arms. Rather automatically, Rogue untied the beld around the older woman's waist and used it as a makeshift pair of handcuffs, tying it tightly around Lorrell's wrist.

"Jeez, Rogue you look like hell." Kitty mumbled. "Way to put a stop to the bad guys. If we hadn't cleared everyone out of there, well... it'd been an even bigger mess. A grosser one, too."

"Ya pulled people outta there?" Rogue asked, hopefully, glancing up sharply from underneath dark eyelahses.

"With our help, of course. We arrived just as Kitty and ze hostages were leaving ze building." Kurt said.

"Minus innocent lives to worry about, and plus the help of Scott's team, we were able to contain the soldiers a lot quicker. Everyone's okay."

Rogue whispered, "Ya didn't happen ta find Remy, did ya?"

"In the building?" Kitty said. "No...what happened with you guys, anyway? I freed Pete, but I couldn't figure out where they were holding you two."

Rogue wrapped her arms around herself, feeling very cold. And ill. Ah never shoulda left him alone, she repeated.

"Rogue? Are you listening?"

She wasn't. She was too busy fighting the tears brimming along the edge of her eyelids, threatening to tumble down her face.

"Da fille's got cotton in her ears, Petit. Maybe you should try smackin' her head a bit t' clear 'em out."

She heard his voice, and thought it was inside her head. That is, until she smelled the cologne again. Her eyes opened wide and she saw Remy leaning against the tree, weary. The ordeal had made him disheveled and messy. The sunlight brought out the five o' clock shadow on his face. And he couldn't have looked better.

"Ah thought ya said ya didn't rescue him." Rogue demanded of Kitty.

"We didn't. He was already here."

"But..."

"Look, I think ve better leave you two and let you talk and stuff. Come on, Kitty, let's go." Kurt pushed the brunette away.

******

Rogue collapsed across from Remy. "One fight an' Ah'm ready ta sleep. Can you imagine?"

Remy laughed softly. He was still a splotchy kind of red, and the color was heightened by warmth of his laughter. "Actually, I can. I once fell alseep in da middle of a job. I was eleven years old, visitin' Tokyo an' I heard about dis jewel called da-"

"Silver Crystal." Rogue interrupted. "Ya tried ta sneak into the princess' room an' somehow ended up sleepin' like a baby. They woke ya up an' sent ya home."

"It's weird t' t'ink y' know so much about me," Remy sighed.

She looked at him and found him smiling strangely. "How come yoah lookin' at me like Ah'm wearin' a princess hat an' a red clown nose?"

"No. None o' dat. It's just...yo' eyes, Chere. They're... mine. Dey look much better on you," He added quickly.

"Easy for you t' say." Execpt it wasn't, she knew. Remy's eyes were his insecurities, odd as that seemed. To her, they were beautiful. To him....a problem. She sighed. It was sweet of him to be so kind, though. She asked, gently prodding, "What happened, Remy? How'd you survive? An' how come you ain't in a coma? Or havin' a seizure right now?"

"I've been told recently dat you saved me from da Renoxilan and da Renoxilan saved me from you. Dey sort o' cancelled each other out. I recovered a lot faster than I should've."

"Who told you that?" She asked.

"You'll never believe it." He warned.

"Ah've got an open mind."

"Not dis time."

"Yes, Ah will. Just tell me."

"Okay," he said, as if he were about to answer with 'the easter bunny'. "Mystique helped me out."

Rogue frowned. "No, seriously."

"Seriously, yo' mama dragged me along. Wasn't too gentle, but I'm not complainin'."

He'd been right. She didn't believe it. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she cares about you. She also t'reatened me again. Dat femme's got a million painful ideas in her head. She an' da Assassins oughta compare notes. Dis time, it was if I hurt you, she's gonna stick me over da fire like a pig and keep da flames low, so's I can smell m' own flesh cookin' away while I squirm in agony. Nice lady, yo' mama."

"Mystique." Rogue repeated.

"Oui."

"Blue, shape-shiftin' Mystique. Who never sticks her head out for anybody else. Who stuck you in the neck with the needle? That Mystique?"

"She also explained dat yoah powers an' da poison were doin' opposite things t' m' body. One speed up m' heartbeat, da other was slowin' it down, dat kinda t'ing. Anyway, I'm not better yet, but almost."

Rogue smiled, "So you been just restin' here? Ah'm out there workin' mah butt off, an' you're outside sleepin' like a baby."

Remy cast her a long, lazy glance, scanning her from head to toe. "Trust me on dis, Chere," he drawled, "y' butt is perfectly intact."

She rolled her eyes, hiding her relief behind mock disgust. "Ya make me sick, Gumbo. Ah'd jam a tree branch through yoah head, but yoah skull is so damn thick it'd probably snap the branch like it was a two inch twig."

He smiled at her, and then yawned. "Good job, Roguey. In dere, wit' Lorrell. Didn't expect y' t' blow da whole place up, but..."

"Lorrell did that. She set off th' self-destruct program. Ah found a disc on her, she probably downloaded a considerable amount of information onto a disc. Ah think she wanted me ta be distracted, so Ah'd spend so much time tryin' ta escape or turn off the program that Ah wouldn't notice the disc."

"Mmmm. But she didn't judge m' girl accurately, non?" Remy nudged her with his toe. She swatted it away.

"Yeah, me...an' you. Never knew anyone could be so loud an' annoyin' inside mah head."

"C'mon. Y' know y' love me. Da sooner you admit it t' yo'self, da sooner we can move on an' go live happily ever after."

She surprised herself. "Ah do love you, Remy," she sighed, shocked a bit at how easily those three words slipped away from her mouth. But they were true. She couldn't figure out when she'd decided that she really was in love -if it was during that magical moment during the kiss, or when she thought that she'd left him to die, or just whenever, but it was true.

They stared at each other a moment after she'd said it, before breaking off into exhausted, confused, relieving laughter. The sun was almost gone, low enough now to cast cooling shadows on their faces. Finally, it seemed the day was ending on a peaceful, calm note. Remy extended his arms for her.

"So," She said quietly, taking to her knees, "Do we get ta move on an' live happily eva' after?"

Remy never got the chance to answer. And Rogue would never know what reached him first: her hushed, private words, or the long, shinning blades that came out of nowhere and stopped just shy of slicing his throat. His eyes went wide as rough hands lifted him fully off of the ground and shoved him violently into the bark of the tree he'd been leaning against.

"Wolverine!" Rogue screeched, jumping up as she recognized the face of her friend. She tried to intervene, but someone was near her now, too. A gentle, but firm hand held her in place. She groaned. "Storm, Logan's gonna hurt him if ya don't stop him!"

"How's the kid lookin'?" Wolverine growled over his shoulder. "Any signs o' brainwash? Massive injuries?"

"Not you, too. Ah'm perfectly fine. At least, Ah would be if you'd stop slammin' Remy around. He didn't do nothin', damn it!"

"Stop swearin'." The older man answered.

"Let him go!" Rogue cried out again. "Ya can't just come around assumin' ya know everythin'. Ya can't possibly imagine what we've all been through these past few days. Remy can't fight back right now, Logan. He's injured an' drained an' in no condition ta be tossed around like a rag doll. So either you let him go, or Ah'm gonna fight his battles for him. Even if it means goin' against you," she warned, as she broke away from Storm. The air between the X-men sparked.

"Stripes, you got enough explainin' to do already. If I were you, I'd mind your mouth and go find your seat on the jet."

"Well you ain't me, an' mah place is here between you an' him, Logan. Ah don't know what kinda crazy scenario ya cooked up on the flight ta California, but the truth is Ah came along willingly. The whole way."

Despite his acute hearing, Logan wasn't listening at all. "Sure," Logan said, glaring accusingly at her eyes, as if her altered appearance proved his point beyond debate. "He hasn't influenced you at all." He leaned in to Remy and snarled.

"Is that it, Gumbo?" The young Cajun didn't respond. He seemed to wilt, as if there wasn't enough energy in his body. The effects of her touch and the drug were more lasting than Rogue had realized.

"Don't ya get it, Logan? Are ya even thinkin'? If he hurt me, how come Ah'm the one standin'?"

"She has a valid point," Storm chimed in, having previously kept her silence because Wolverine and Rogue shared something special, it seemed, and they deserved a chance to work it out on their own. Unfortunately, Logan wasn't being cooperative. Even she could acknowledge that.

The wind blew, whistling over the treetops. Everyone looked up. At first, they thought it was a reflection of Storm. But her smooth face registered only curiosity. They watched her then, as her eyes clouded over, a thick, brilliant white and she took a deep breath, as if readying herself.

Logan's grip loosened, giving the Cajun just a fraction of an inch, as he seemed to understand what Storm was experiencing. He growled lowly, "Magneto."

A deep, rumbling laugh echoed down to them. "My, my, my. Isn't this a fractured fairytale." Cloacked in black, and in full armor, Magento descended on the group from out of nowhere, wearing a twisted little sneer, and crossing his arms. "And here I thought the X-men were a united team."

"What the hell is this?" Rogue spat, "A freakin' mutant reunion?"

He held up his hands as the X-men tensed up. "I'm not here for a fight, of course. Not now, not like this. I seek only to retrieve what is mine." He indicated Remy and the two other Acolytes, who were just joining the group, along with the rest of the X-men.

"Aw, hell." Pyro muttered, as he stopped walking several feet away from Magneto. "He found us. Should've known it was only a matter of time."

"He must've followed Wolverine and Storm." Jubilee muttered.

Magneto commanded, "Release the boys into my custody, and I shall leave you alone to settle your family fued in peace and privacy."

"We ain't givin' you nobody." Rogue said. "They ain't yoah property."

"No, but they are bound to me by contract. Wolverine. You came here to settle your domestic issues. Allow me the same curtesy before you do too much damage yourself." To Rogue's horror, Wolverine actually seemed to be considering that. He was looking at Storm, a silent coversation passing between them.

However, a clear, articulate, commanding voice called out, "I think, perhaps, that won't be neccessary," and everyone turned to see a tall stranger, built like a football player, with wild wiry hair, blue jeans, and a crooked grin approaching the group. He held a computer notebook in his hands.

Kitty frowned. "Was he, like, one of the hostages, 'cause I totally don't remember him."

"Me either," Piotr answered.

Magneto remained serious and unconcerned. "Unfortunately, you haven't a say in this business, whoever you are. I suggest you be thankful you survived one encounter with an enemy more powerful than yourself, and do not become involved with another."

"You're reaction is completely understandable," the man said, undetered. "Nevertheless, I must expostulate. You see, this is my business. And the business of my employer." At this, he unfolded the notebook and spun it around on his agile hand, so that they could see a face on the screen. A very familiar face, that made even Magneto smile wryly.

"Charles." He remarked with surprise.

"Eric."

"The professor!" Several of the X-men said at once, stunned to see his face.

Magneto lifted his chin up. "I'm afraid these are my boys, this time. I don't care what you do with your X-men, but Gambit has broken the agreement we made. I will punish him as I see fit. It's out of your hands."

Xavier nodded, but asked, "How much is it worth to you, Eric, the lives and freedom of these boys?" They all noticed the tone, and wondered again at the strange bond that existed between the two men; how could they possibily still think themselves friends?

"This one time, I'm not interested in selling."

"Eric, be reasonable." Xavier folded his hands. "This is not the place or situation in which to decide these matters. Allow me to escort the boys back to New York, where we can meet and discuss this."

"You may have the other two, they're of no use to me anymore." Magneto conceeded. "But the Cajun has deliberately ruined my plans and cost me a fortune. I'll not surrender him to you to be pampered by the comforts of wealth and friendship."

"We have holding cells." Xavier reminded Magneto. "We could take him there. I'd hardly call it 'pampering'."

"No, thank you."

"Old friend, you're outnumbered by far. Consider my offer again." Xavier said, his voice taking on an certain threatening edge.

"Since when has that been a problem for me?"

"Eric... the boys have earned my respect, and my aid. I will not abandon them, but I do not wish for and my X-men to engage in battle. The local authorities will be arriving within minutes. It's best if we're all gone by then. Just until it's decided." Xavier said firmly.

Magneto lifted his chin up. And sighed. "Very well... only until it's decided." The Master of Magnetism floated up into the air, summoned his capsule with a gesture. It hovered far above all of their heads. "But remember, you've only postponed the inevitable. I will not give him up so easily. Not after all the trouble he's caused me." As he departed, everyone exhaled.

The stranger with the computer turned it around, so he could face Xavier. "Well done, Professor." He acknowlegded. "Your powers of persuasion are most remarkable."

"Thank you, Mr. McCoy."

"Mr. McCoy!" Jubilee cried out in disbelief. "But..."

"Hank?" Ororo said with suprise in her face.

"Ah, yes." The stranger touched his sleeve, and his whole being flickered several times, before melting away completely to reveal the acrobatic blue genius Hank McCoy. He took a bow, careful to keep Xavier's face balanced.

"Wait a minute!" Scott interrupted. "We can assume, I guess, that Magneto followed you all here. But how did you follow us?"

"Yeah." Jean said. "One minute we're alone, and the next everybody and their guardian is here."

"Jubilee's parents contacted us. They'd gotten a call from her old babysitter, sayin' that she'd heard the kid was back in California. They wanted the details. We followed you from there." Logan said, gruffly.

"But Hank," Ororo asked. "You and the professor weren't notified. How did you know..."

"Ah. Allow me to answer this. Hank's been keeping an eye on Rogue for me. I was concerned about her, and I thought it best to make sure she'd be safe whether or not she opted to remain with the X-men." Xavier said.

"I've been... around..." Hank agreed. He pushed the button on his sleeve again. First, it made him look like a familiar cab driver. Rogue's eyes went wide. Then, he touched it again, and he looked like a thin man in blue robes.

"You've been followin' us the whole time?" She asked.

"I'm afraid so."

"Since New York?"

"Yes."

"An' ya didn't think it was neccessary ta intervene when we were captured by cult people? An' by Nazis?"

"Rogue," Xavier said, "It was all of you who decided you could manage by yourselves. Once the choice was made, what I could do, but hope you could handle the burden?"

"For the record, Professor," Scott said, clearing his throat. "We didn't do it by ourselves. We did it as one team. Together."

Xavier nodded. "Accompany your teammates home. I'm leaving this place now, we'll discuss this soon. Unless I'm very much mistaken, the police are already on their way out there. They'll take care of everything else."

"Yes, sir."

Hank closed the computer screen and they all started walking in the direction which Storm led them. They were interrupted only once, by the Leader, who ran out of the bushes to greet them.

"Ah! You did it! Master, Lady of Peace." He cooed, happily. "I knew all along you were the ones. This only proves it, Master. More than even the-"

Gambit, who was relying heavily on Hank McCoy's strength, gave a weak smile. "Da Lady did it, mon ami."

"Ah, but the two of you are a set. You are bound by the ties of fate and destiny. You act as one. Husband and-"

"T'ank you. I order y' home." Gambit said, quickly. But it was too late. Wolverine's claws poked into his back.

"What's this about?" He said, addressing the Leader.

"Goodbye, I'll speak wit' you in a few weeks." Remy said, using an assertive tone. Wolverine's look was intimidating, but given the choice between his own Master and a powerfully built man, the Leader wisely chose to follow his Master's wishes. He backed away, bowing respectfully.

"Until next time, I shall live in your shadow of peace!"

"You have a helluva lot o' explaining to do," Wolverine muttered, glancing down at his claws, as if visualizing all the ways they could make a person explain things better.

********

Incidentally, Remy hadn't explained much after that. He'd been locked up in the cell, where Rogue had snuck in to visit him often during the weeks that followed. They grew ever closer. Magento and Xavier, Rogue figured, couldn't reach a resolution.

The X-men were given punishments for not following the rules. The blackbird never shined so bright. The floors were too clean to squeak. It was as if Xaver had hired an army of maids to take care of the mansion, things were so perfectly ordered. Nobody minded much. Piotr and Pyro were formally inducted into the X-men group.

And then one night it was announced that in twenty-four hours, the big decision -the Who Would Get Remy Decision- would be announced. That night, Rogue snuck into Remy's cell one last time.

****

The Present...

"Wit'out you, m' life would've taken a turn for da borin'." Remy said, as he took the opportunity to toy with her white hair. It was the color he always touched. She asked him once if it had some kind of significance, like he was embracing the mutant part of her, making her feel comfortable with the person she'd become. He'd smiled. Maybe that's a part of it, he'd told her, but mostly I just like da color. He twisted it around his finger. "Chere... I got a confession t' make."

"If you're confession involves tellin' me ya snuck a letter ta the LeBeau family, makin' it considerably more complicated ta get an annulment, Ah already know. Keep in mind, Darlin', you ain't got many secrets anymore." A strange, torn look on her face took her face as she said that last statement, as if she wasn't sure if she ought to feel annoyed at his actions, or guilty, because of how she'd not so much learned that information as absorbed it.

Remy, for his part, just nodded. He'd suspected. And besides, ever since their kiss, discussion between them had been a curious game. They talked like people dancing around fire, moving here and there, unsure as to where they'd step next. Sometimes they'd burn themselves with a secret revealed; sometimes they were fine. Usually, like now, they were sort of lukewarm and inbetween.

"An'..." She continued, "If a present arrives from you're family, an' it happens that you aren't around, wear it, love it, but for goodness sakes don't prance it around the police station? Ah got it, Rem."

"Also, word travels fast around da Bayou an' some people hold grudges 'gainst me, so..."

"If a package arrives from the Bourdeaux family, it's probably gonna either blow me up, or inject me with a fatal dose o' poison, via hidden needle?" Rogue reached up and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. Ah'm on top o' things."

He leered. "Now if y' could only be on top o'-"

"Remy, Ah love ya. But if you finish that sentence Ah'm gonna hurt ya. Badly."

Remy sighed and took a step away from her. He ran a hand along down her arm, and when he reached her palm, he gave it a squeeze. "Well, guess dat's it, den. Time t' face da music."

"Maybe we'll get lucky an' it'll be a tango."

"Or a waltz." He suggested. "Always wanted t' waltz. M' brother an' me had t' take lessons when we were young. Never had a chance t' use da skills."

"Mmm. Except when lil' miss Bella turned twelve, right? An' y' snuck into her party, just like Romeo."

Remy laughed. "I love da way you say her name, Roguey. All full o' jealousy an' spite. Don't try an' deny it. Our communication, Chere, is so good, I can read you like a book. Never knew lettin' a girl inside m' head would improve communication so much."

"Easy for you ta say. Ya know how long it took mah eyes ta look green again? Everyone kept avoidin' me."

"Chere, da only reason dey avoided you was 'cause you were always pinin' over me. Face it, y' turnin' it no a lovesick doll. If I weren't da object o' yo' affections, I'd be avoidin' you."

"That's not true." She insisted.

"Den how come Kurt said it? Gonna call yo' own brother a liar, Roguey? Da boy's as good as wearin' da cloth now."

"Kurt didn't tell ya that!" Rogue accused, narrowing her eyes sharply, as if to pierce her way to the truth.

But Remy, for the first time in several weeks, had the upper hand. He grinned, smugly. "Seems y' don't know everyt'in'. Y' haven't been m' only visitor."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Kurt's visited you?"

"Among others, oui. We still got our disagreements, me an' da blue man. We gonna settle 'em da old fashion way soon as we get da chance. Turns out, we both know how t' carry a sword. A duel sounded like fun. Y' don't mind, do y? 'Cause we gonna do it anyway."

"Nice ta know ya value mah opinion."

"We'd like t' trust yo' judgement, but really...look who y' datin'."

"Yoah absolutely right. Next time I'll choose bettah."

"Next time?"

Rogue grinned, but then sighed heavily. "Come on, Remy. We gotta do this."

"Oh, yeah." He too sighed, and grabbed Rogue closer. "Lead me on."

She did, taking several slow but steady steps. It wasn't too late for him to escape on his own -the mansion had an amazingly effective security system, but he was a LeBeau. He stayed for several reasons: for the X-men, who'd given him their loyalty, for himself, because he felt that he might actually be on the verge of finding a home, and to spite those of the Guild who thought he'd wither up and dry without their support. But mostly, he stayed because of Rogue. He could only hope she'd still understand that when she found out that Magento wasn't waiting for him all...

*******

"Surprise!"

Rogue wasn't sure she was awake. She was standing in the room, streamers falling down into her face, and someone had just shoved a balloon into her hand. A pink balloon that read Congratulaions! She released Remy's hand to block the sea of confetti that came blowing towards her like Pecos Bill on a hurricane. It tangled in her hair and landed like snowflakes on her black clothes. "What the hell is goin' on?" She demanded. This was hardly the solemn scene she'd been preparing for.

From amist the chaos, Professor Xavier came wheeling out, that patient You're-Still-Learning-Quite-A-Bit, Aren't-You smile written on his face. He reached out with his mind. Rogue, it's customary to show some joy at a surprise party. Especially one that was thrown by your friends and husband.

Suprise party? Ya mean Magneto ain't gonna take him away? Ya did it?

Xavier looked past her, as if signaling someone else. Obviously, that someone was Gambit, because he stepped up and sighed. "Chere, I got a new confession t' make. I haven't been waitin' for Xavier t' save me from Magneto. Dey settled dat a few days after we got here. I've been doin' time for my previous crimes, so dat I could join da team wit' a clear conscience... and so's we could convince Freddy Krueger on Steriods I hadn't stolen you away an' gotten off da hook. As it is, I'm gonna have t' have private session wit' him t' catch me up after all dis time o' wastin' away in a cell. Let's hope I can survive dat."

Rogue felt her jaw slip open. "So all along, you been lyin' ta me? All those lines 'bout Magento bein' a cruel dictator, an' you lookin' all sad an' mopey..that was just some melodramatic play?"

Remy shifted uncomfortablu. "Mais..."

She spun around to face the others. "An' you all knew about this?"

Jean was near a punch bowl, her head nearly drowning under the weight of a giant-sized party hat. She shrugged. "The way we figure it, you freaked us out by leaving suddenly without a note. We all helped freak you out by lettin' you think that Magneto still cared about what happened to Remy. We'll drop our complaints if you drop yours." She smiled. "If not, Scott's got these great programs he's written for the DI room, and he needs to pick someone to try them all out."

Ah hate them all, she thought.

Liar, she answered back.

They're the liars! They had me thinkin'....even Scott! What happened ta Mr. Morality?

Obviously, Remy's gotten to them. But do you really care? He's free.

Ah hate 'em.

You love them all, especially Remy. You've never felt so good.

No!

And they made chocolate cake.

So what?

With chocolate frostin'.

Rogue bit her lip and wrinkled her brow.

Damn it. Ah guess now Ah'll have ta forgive 'em. Since they made chocolate frostin' an' all.

"I suppose," Xavier said pleasantly, noticing the change in her, "I must return to my work now. Good night." He settled his glass onto a table and started to drive away. But just before he was out of earshot, he tossed over his shoulder, "Oh, and children? Behave."

*****

Remy heard the air gush into his room, and felt it, light and feathery, along his face. He frowned, but did not open his eyes. It was his first day in a real room since he'd been released from his cell; a little wind wasn't going to lure him away from long lost comfort of a warm bed.

Except, Remy realized with a half-frown, he'd taken extra care to shut the window. The weather report said it was going to rain, and he hadn't wanted to flood his new room. Carefully, he peeked an eyelid open. Sure enough, the window was open. Strange. Very strange.

He sat up, reluctantly, and placed two feet on the icy floor. He was running his hands over his head and hair, when the phone beside his bed rang. Rogue was the only one who knew the number already. Deciding it must be her, he reached over and picked it up.

"Allo?" Remy asked, stifling a yawn.

"It's me, Rem."

"Roguey." He smiled.

"Remy, Ah got bad news."

"Oh?"

"Ya know how everyone at the mansion was careful ta not tell Logan all this time 'bout how we got married an' stuff? You know, since he was a lil' sensitive about that an' still hates yoah guts?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I heard from Kitty that Bobby accidentally said it in front of Logan. He knows Remy. Logan knows we're married. An' somehow, Ah doubt he's happy about it."

Remy looked back at his open window. The curtains danced, tauntingly, as if dangling a secret in front of his face. Suddenly, something clattered near the other side of the wall. He quickly turned, but the only visible culprit was a book that must've tumbled from the edge of the shelf. It lay harmlessly on the floor, pages wide open.

"Remy? Still there?"

"Uh, Chere...I gotta call y' back," Remy whispered. "Love y'."

"Love ya too. Night."

He put the phone back on the hook and slid his feet back inside the covers. But his eyes were as wide and careful as ever. They scanned everywhere for any sign of an intruder. Logic told him that there was nothing to worry about. But that didn't stop the shadows from playing tricks on his eyes. The reflection of the coathanger looked like a scarecrow against the moonlit wall. The stack of books situated on his new desk seemed more like starecases leading directly downwards. And the...

He licked his lips and inhaled slightly. What exactly was casting that three-clawed shadow so close to his head?

FINIS

1. General Notes: Sorry it took forever and a day to post this. I've decided, rather than to beg individually, to just put it all in one comment. I'd like to summarize it with these three words: I'm SO sorry.

2. Gn: Thank all of you who read and/reviewed, but especially to those of you who reviewed. Thanks! I love you. *breaks down into tears.

3.Reviewer Awards:
Tiara of the Fic goes to Gaea, whose persistance helped get me back on track. Thank you for that.
Magic Wand of the Fic: Ishandahalf, because I could always count on her fun reviews, and because she made me feel really bad about not updating and her comments helped jump start this update.
Golden Goblet of the Fic: Alara, who will eventually get tired of reading my stories but for now is my new consultant. Yay!

1. Individual Comments:

Mistyblue: I thank you kindly for your review :)

The Tourniquet: I'm glad you like St. John and even more glad you like Remy. And super glad you like my story. :)

Ani: The First Song featured in this story is called If I Never Knew You, or something like that. Again, I'm not sure who the singers are, but it's from the Pocahontas soundtrack. Thank you. :)

Yumiko, Ashes of Marie, AngieX, Samson, coldqueen, Delylah: You guys are all so nice for reviewing, and I wanted to say something wonderful and nice and worthy of you all... but then I realized I'd have to plagerize something to obtain that goal. So, I offer you instead my heartfelt gratitude and invisible, paper-light cookies. So thin, it's like they're not even there!

Edainme: I'm glad you like Jubilee. She's such an awesome character in most of the X-men world. Why didn't they use her more in Evo?!

Gaea: First off: you are the nicest person. You get the The Reviewer Crown for the fic, because it was your continued interest that made me look at my fic and think: Stop Procrastinating! Yes, I made Scooter break the rules. I couldn't resist the chance to pose the ultimatum: Jean vs. following the law. :) I'm sorry this didn't come in time for christmas, or new years, or Valentines Day, but it IS here before St. Patrick's Day... thanks again. :)

Goddess Evie: I'm such a liar! I said I wouldn't apologize in individual responses and here I am about to do it again: I'm sorry the update took so long. I'm not sorry that you liked it though, and I totally agree that Remy and Rogue are like, the one of the most funnest couples ever. :) Thanks!

Lace123:It's funny. I'm responding to your review just hours after watching the final episode of My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance, and if they're looking for a sequel, they should so totally go with the My Professional Thieving, Cigarette-Smoking, Terrorist Fiance. You did color-guard in HS? IN-ter-esting. You wanna hear something funny (and slightly pathetic): my first year in high school, our band only had 3 colorguards. We could've used you!

Ishandahalf: Why hello there...*cringes away*. Um...suprise! An update! A finished story! Yay! I finally did it, Ish. And it was partly because of you. Really. I was reading something you wrote, and you said that you hate how writers start stories and then don't finish them and I was like, I don't want Ish to hate me, I like reading her reviews. I said to myself, Eileen, sure it's only been five months, but that might be a long time to some people... Anyways, you get the Reviewer-of-the Fic Wand. Not the crown, I'm sad to say, because Gaea got that for being insistent and nice, but the wand is good too. It's sparkly and you can always use it to beat me across the head next time I take too long in my update. :) Thank you for the reviews throughtout this story. And I swear WMB is like, right around the corner from here. Promise!

Ima Super Cute Ant: I like your name. :) Thanks!

Deathsangel195: I thank you kindly. Your review was a joy to read (that's a nice little mutualistic relationship, isn't it?)

Aro: Bonjour. Good day. And thank you, ever so kindly, for the review.

BadaBindBadaBoom: I'm glad you liked Jubes and I totally agree with you about her. Your pun made me smile. In fact, I'm still smiling. :) Well, Mystique wasn't communicating with Magneto, but she was being affected by someone, wasn't she. :)

Katrina 5, Matla2ndengine: You guys are the best! Thank you, much.

Alara: Just a note: I fixed that kinda creepy typo. (I should mention that to everyone, shouldn't I...) I glad you liked the story; I was wondering if maybe it'd gone a little too crazy somewhere between the Cult and the amnesia and the yellow-eyed nazis... ^_^ I will see you soon. (v. soon indeed)

Rogue4787: Does the numbers of your name have any special significance? It reminded me of Species 8472 on star trek...but that's another crazy obsession better left unmentioned, isn't it. Glad my fic stands out. That's always one of the best compliments I like to get. :) I know I wasn't exactly fast, but I still demand the fake secret surprise I was gonna get...

RogueMaverick: Well, I'd answer your question, but hopefully you've read the story and know the answer yourself by now. :) Hope the ending was okay! Thanks for reviewing!

Pomegranite Queen: I totally accept pineapples. And do you know why? Because then I have all the ingredients to make Pina Colada! (do you like pina colada, and getting caught in the rain, and the feel of the ocean, and the taste of champagne?)

Fallen_angel99: I thank you much for your review! Hopefully, your questions are all more or less answered by now... thank you so much!

Queen of Hearts20: Thank you so much! I really like that song too.

Krac: Sadly as 'out there' as this may seem, it's all been cooked up in my own twisted little mind. Thank you for the review.

Monidylle: You know, I never try to be mean to the guy characters. I don't know how this happens! Thanks :)

Personage: Thank you, kind reviewer. :) I can't believe you read the whole thing in such a short amount of time. (personally, I need to be unconscious to make it through one of my own fics.) Bye!

Walmartshoplifter: Thanks! BTW, I like your name. Never cared much for Walmart.

Questions? Comments? Coconuts? As always, I'm at [email protected]