Feather light touches were running along Scott's cheeks. Scott determined that
they must have been Gambit's. He realized that wasn't what woke him though. What
woke him was an intense need for the bathroom. He reached for his glasses and
they weren't where he expected them to be. He felt Logan's fingers brush his as
they were pressed into his hand. He opened his eyes and peered at the clock. He
was surprised to see it was only about two in the morning. He glanced at the
thief whose chin was settled on his chest. "You're awake?"
 Remy grinned. "Told y'. I'm nocturnal." Scott shook his head and shifted
carefully out of the bed and went to the bathroom.
 Logan was sitting on the bed apparently engaged in a staring contest with Remy.
The thief had his arms crossed and a petulant frown on his face. His bristles
were showing, which ruined the effect. He couldn't completely pull off the
little boy look without shaving. Logan reached forward and flicked the younger
man's nose. "Ouch," Remy hissed, head snapping away from the "attack" and
directly into the headboard. "Merde." He rubbed at the back of his skull.
 Jean snickered. Remy rolled his eyes as she sat up. "So, now that we're all
up," she said, "what's the plan?"
 "Going back to sleep?" Scott suggested.
 "We don't have a session in the mornin'," Logan stated. "There's no reason to
get up later. No, I think our little thief is gonna tell us what's eatin' at
him."
 "Not'in'," Remy shrugged.
 "Why are your shields glowing?" Scott asked settling on the bed and letting the
thief lean back against his shoulder. Remy sighed miserably.
 "Fine. Merde, y' people are sick. Y' know that right? Y' get too focused on
knowin' everythin' about a body and y' lose the mystery in life." Jean's jaw
dropped and Logan chuckled.
 "Come on, Jeannie. Ya don't mean ya bought that bayou-boy act?" Logan
questioned.
 "I'm good, Logan. I don't break character," Remy grinned at the Canadian.
"Especially not around spooks."
 "Hey!" Jean protested. "I do not like the term 'spook'."
 "And I don' like bein' called a whore, but that don't stop people. Deal with
it, woman," Remy snapped. Jean stared at him. She sat up carefully.
 "You're shields are glowing brighter."
 Remy sighed. "Too much t' hope that you'd be diverted int' a discussion of
names, non?"
 "Definitely. What's going on, Remy?" Jean asked. She gently squeezed his hand.
 "Part of m' shields is failin' and Sinister's keepin' 'em up f' moi," Remy
answered quickly. He snapped his jaw shut. His shoulders curled in and Scott
wrapped his arm around him, pulling him in closer.
 "Let me help," Jean demanded. His shields flared at the probe that accompanied
that. Gambit's jaw tensed. "Please," she softened the order. Remy wavered. He
shut his eyes and reached past the shields to let his charm run over the Phoenix
for a moment. Satisfied, he opened a tiny slit and let her in. Scott looked at
Logan as Remy seemed to fall asleep. Logan's nose twitched.
 "He don't smell like he's asleep. Jeannie, what?"
 "He's letting me in," she answered. //Remy, would you prefer having someone
else here too?// Scott heard the question clearly through his link with Jean and
his eyes widened behind his glasses. She wasn't shielding against him.
 //Mebbe,// Remy answered. //But de only one I can dink of lettin' in y' ain'
gonna like.//
 Jean's surprise was easy to see. Remy gave her a wry smile. She considered. She
curled a mental lip. //Fine. I'll deal.//
 //Oh, y' already draggin' in Scotty, why not have a party?// Remy asked her.
 //I suppose this would be the time to announce my presence?// Sinister asked,
leaning against the bookshelf in Remy's "parlor". Remy scowled over his shoulder
at him.
 //Always said y' never knew how t' make an entrance,// Remy sneered. He looked
the man up and down. //That suit's de wrong color f' y'.//
 //You would prefer silver?// Sinister asked, raising a brow.
 //Anythin' but brown.// Sinister morphed into his more familiar shape.
 //Better?//
 //You'll do.//
 Jean's eyes were very wide. She watched the interaction with avid interest.
Almost as if she were a tennis spectator.
 //Shall we get down to the reason why *that* woman has been allowed into your
mind?// Sinister prompted. The thief sighed.
 //Fine. How do we do dis den?// Jean was surprised that the question wasn't
directed at her.
 //It would be best to show her where the damage is. Unless you'd rather I fixed
things?//
 //Non, merci, M. Essex.// Remy rolled his eyes. //Y' take us dere, oui?// he
asked the scientist. Jean felt a knot in her stomach. She didn't like the looks
of this at all.
 //Very well.// Sinister straightened and opened a portal. //You can do this
yourself. If you would merely practice, you would be able to move around your
mindscape with a minimal effort.//
 //There's too many nasty dings in m' mindscape, merci.// Gambit glared at
Sinister.
 //You can not blame me for difficulties of your own creation, boy.//
 //I most certainly can, ole man.// Jean was startled by Sinister's chuckle.
Remy put out his hand for her and led her into the portal. //Don' worry 'bout
him, chere, he's just a pussycat. Like Creed.//
 //Very comforting,// Jean replied dryly. Remy winked at her. Sinister crossed
his arms.
 //We are here. Get on with it. I have things to be doing.//
 //But not'in' as important as po' lil' Remy, non?// Remy fluttered his lashes.
 //Don't test me, LeBeau.// Jean could keep herself from smiling.
 //What is the trouble?//
 //Yesterday, dis shield was near on t' bein' gone. Don' know what all dat
woulda let out. I need t' do somethin' about containin' what's behind it.//
 //And what is behind it?//
 //I don' know.//
 //You don't know?// Jean echoed. //Interesting.//
 //This portion was erected well before the rest of the shielding,// Sinister
informed her. //These shields held well enough for nearly 18 years. The other
shields were consciously created to make some sort of sense of the chaos his
thoughts were in when we… met. Theoretically, anything he has repressed or
forgotten would not be captured by the newer shields.//
 //Dere's only one layer of shieldin' here,// Remy explained. //An' whatever's
behind it was eatin' t'rough it.//
 //Then maybe we should face what's in there.//
 //I don' dink dat's wise. I dink it's better t' just seal it up. Contain it.//
 //This falls under my lecture on releasing the pain you absorb from other
people,// Jean said sharply. //Can you let me in?//
 The distress on Remy's face almost made Jean hesitate. He took a long moment to
breathe. //Oui, chere. Jus' hurry.// A tiny sliver of dark appeared and Jean
slipped inside.
 Scott's scowl deepened. "What's going on, Slim?"
 "She's going into repressed memories. I think Gambit's containment idea is
better myself," Scott informed Logan. "But Sinister's there and he's what's
getting to me."
 "How?"
 "His reaction to Gambit is so out of character, but it doesn't seem to be a
con. I hate the bastard."
 "I know."
 "I want to rip his head off and piss down his throat."
 "Ain't a bad idea."
 "And he's treating Remy like a teenager."
 "Huh?"
 "They're fighting, but like I'd fight with Jubilee and it's making me nervous."
 "Why?"
 "Because Gambit doesn't hate him." Logan laid a comforting hand on Scott's leg.
 A tear ran down Jean's cheek and Scott and Logan were immediately aware. Scott
listened actively to the link.
 Jean kept her back against the shield as the chaos roiled around her. Unlike
most of Gambit's mind, there seemed to be no actual landscape here. There was no
theatre, no graveyard, no house, just a bubbling cloud that ate at the shield
with caustic force. Jean hardened her own shields as it started to lap at her.
Dimly, she heard voices in the void. She concentrated, trying to find the
source. Suddenly, the cloud was gone, replaced by an echoing chamber with
glowing lichen on the wall. Gambit's hands caught he and dragged her out of the
room.
 //Dammit, Remy!// she snapped. //I was so close.//
 //T' bein' caught in a trap!// Gambit was agitated. He ran a hand through his
bangs. //Woman, y' in D-14, not C-2 where y' were.//
 //Take us back, LeBeau,// Sinister ordered.
 //I can't do dat.//
 //You brought us here. You can do the reverse,// the man insisted. Gambit's
hands fisted. He was practically vibrating in anger. //Don't question me.// And
a heartbeat later, they were back at the weakened section. //Good.// Sinister
rested his hand on the tousled bangs. //Now give her a way to stay here.//
 Remy took Jean's hand and stepped through the shielding.
 "Slim?" Logan prompted.
 "Jean tightened her shields and Gambit lost track of her for a minute. That's
why he panicked."
 "And he wanted to shake her fer scarin' him?"
 Scott nodded.
 "Know the feelin'."
 "Me too," Scott agreed. He didn't even realize that he'd started to stroke
Remy's hair, trying to calm him.
 //Jeannie, I can't do dis!// The black cloud surged towards them. Jean gripped
Gambit's hand more firmly. She stepped into the cloud without strengthening her
shields. He stayed outside of it.
 //Come here. Who is this?// She showed him a face.
 //De Antiquary,// Remy whispered, eyes dropping quickly. //Jeannie, just help
m' t' seal dis place off.//
 //No.//
 //Why not? Y' don't know! It hurts, Jeannie. I'm burnin'.//
 //Once you face the monsters, the pain will fade,// Jean insisted.
 //What de fuck would y' know about m' monsters, Miss Suburbia?//
 //I know that Scott could face his with help. You can too.// Jean stared into
the cloud. //For the moment only, I want you to create a clear box around the
memories, so we can look in but nothing can get out.//
 //Gambit can do dat,// he agreed after a long moment. Some of the tension left
his spine. He closed his eyes. It amused Jean that his astral projection did
things the same way he did things in real life. A geodesic globe glowed magenta
around the cloud, then faded to shiny glass. //Enough?// he asked softly.
 //For now. We'll deal with this again when you're rested.//
 //Oui, Jeannie.// They were outside the shields once more. Sinister studied the
young man.
 //Have you had your shots?// he asked Gambit. Jean blinked at the question.
 //Oui, M. Get y' a docteur's note if y' want it,// Remy snapped.
 //Not this time,// Sinister responded calmly. //Have you placed your calls?//
 //Non, M.// Remy responded more meekly. Sinister glared at him. As his mouth
opened, Remy raised a hand. //Remy just tell Scott t' give him de standard
responsibility lecture an' we call it good?// Sinister chuckled.
 //Very well, Old Son. Do not allow things to reach such a state again.//
 //Oui, M.// Sinister left them there. //Enough?//
 //For now,// Jean agreed. And with a thought she was awake. Remy's eyes opened
after a few blinks.
 "Was that lecture 49 or lecture 32?" Scott asked.
 Remy considered the question seriously. "Forty-nine."
 Scott nodded. "I don't ask that much. I give you one simple task and it doesn't
get done. Team work relies upon the idea that all members of the team will
complete their assigned tasks," Scott said sharply. His voice softened with
humor a breath later. "This is where you tune out, I think."
 "Non, I've heard de next line. Somethin' like 'when one part of the job doesn't
get done, the entire team suffers as a result of the irresponsibility of one
member.'"
 "Glad to know you hear me at least. Next we'll work on *listening* to what I'm
saying."
 "Cyke, I ain't never let y' down when it was important." Remy rolled his eyes.
"Ain't it past your bedtime?" he asked.
 "Don't try to change the subject," Scott said with a grin.
 Remy's hand settled on Cyke's crotch. "Why not?" the Cajun purred.
 "Because it *is* past my bedtime," Scott yawned. He kissed Gambit's temple,
then reached to give Jean a quick peck. Logan turned the goodnight kiss into a
deep, possessive claiming. Scott was panting by the end of it. Yet, he snuggled
down into the bed and closed his eyes behind his sleeping goggles.
 Logan held his hands out to Jean and Remy. "Come here, kids." They curled up on
either side of him. "Now, you two are gonna tell Uncle Logan what the *fuck*
this is about. First, is the Cajun still glowin'?"
 "No the red is gone."
 "Good. Now spill it."
 "Spill what, Logan?" Jean asked with a frown.
 "What happened in there?"
 "Didn't Scott tell you?"
 "I wanna know what scared the Cajun and I know I ain't gonna get a straight
answer from him, so spill it, Red."
 "Just something from the past that he doesn't want to face," Jean said flatly.
"Now, I think Scott's got the right idea. We can deal with this later, after
we're rested." She touched Gambit's cheek gently. He closed his eyes and nodded,
cheek brushing along Logan's shoulder, the short bristles just beginning to
show. She kissed each of them gently and laid down next to Scott. Logan's arm
tightened around Remy's shoulders.
 "Don't expect yer gonna be sleepin' much tonight."
 "Non," Remy said with a half-smile.
 "Ya want some company?"
 "Non, merci, Logan-cher. Dis is somet'in' I gotta be alone wit'." Logan nodded.
Remy slipped out of the Canadian's grip and went to shower. By the time he
slipped out of the room, all three of his lovers were asleep.

 Scott found Gambit in the Danger Room at five a.m. when he got up. The Cajun
was doing tumbling runs. "Hey," Scott called.
 "Hey."
 "You up for a spar? I'll even let you win." Scott winked - a brief flare of red
against his visor.
 Remy snickered. "Sure, Cyke. Bos okay?"
 "Fine. I'll just stretch out."
 "Tell m' when y're ready, cher." Scott had always appreciated Remy's gymnastic
skills from a tactical standpoint. Now, he was willing to acknowledge the
aesthetic appreciation too. Mid-air twists and flips showed off Remy's agility
and grace. Handstands showed his strength in corded muscles.
 "Ready whenever you are, Gumbo."
 Remy back-flipped to where Scott was waiting, holding wooden practice staffs.
"I'll go easy on y', Scotty."
 "I'd prefer hard." Scott shrugged.
 "Mon Dieu, Fearless made a joke."
 "More of a pass, but whatever works."
 "Let's rock then, cher."
 Scott didn't hold to formal moves so his matches never took on a recognizable
cadence. Remy adored fighting outside the lines.
 About an hour later, Scott was on the floor for the third time. "Yield." He
patted the mat next to him. "Come here." Snickering, Remy settled next to him.
"So are you going to kill Jean or not?"
 "Actually, I was t'inkin' of torturing' her."
 "Always fun. Can I watch?"
 "Depends on what I get in return."
 "I'll have to think on it. What are you trying to work through, Babe?" With his
eyes closed, Scott didn't see the double-take.
 Remy sighed deeply. "Jeannie dug up some nasty memories."
 "Childhood shit?"
 "Oui. Jus' takes time t' bury it again. M' master weren't a nice man."
 Scott's eyes popped open. "Master?"
 "Oui. De Antiquary owned m'. Was plannin' t' keep m' too. Sold most of de
Collection. Dought Remy was too pretty t' sell. Usually, dat's all I remember,
but de memories be tryin' t' get out now. Dat an' Fagan's Mob." Remy shrugged.
"I get it pushed down soon enough."
 "Maybe you do need to talk about things. I know talking about Jack always hurts
like Hell, but id did help some."
 "Jack?"
 "My foster father. Used to beat me." Scott's shoulders lifted.
 "Foster father?"
 "Yeah. Jack the Diamond. He was a thief. Nowhere near your class."
 "Not many are." Remy tugged at Scott's arm. "Shower. Food. Bed."
 "If you're nice, I'll even snuggle until you fall asleep," Scott teased.
 The hot water felt good against sticky skin. Scott chuckled at Remy's almost
shy approach. He put out his hand. The locker-room showers were large. "Why y'
wearin' y'r glasses?"
 "So I can watch you." Scott tugged the Cajun under the stream of water. He
watched the water track down the soft skin. He followed one drop on its uneven
path with a finger. Remy's eyes drooped. The rough stubble on his cheeks caught
the water. The oddly subdued light of the room glinted off the drops.
 Apropos of nothing, Remy commented, "I know femmes dat'd kill f' y'
cheekbones." Scott's hand paused just above his lover's navel.
 "Really?"
 "Oui. Dey show up in dis light." Remy traced the edge of the visor. "I hate dis
ding. Y' glasses are better."
 "But not as useful."
 "Don' need y' t' be useful." Remy rolled his eyes and pressed close to whisper
in Scott's ear. "Keep y' locked up so no one ever hurts y' again, mebbe." He
placed a small kiss just before the ear. "All t'ree of y'. Keep y' easily, me."
 "A cage is a cage, Remy."
 "Ain't done it yet."
 Scott laughed lightly and kissed the thief. His tongue slid easily into the
hot, spicy mouth. Remy wrapped his arms around Scott's neck. Scott buried one
hand in Remy's hair. The other surrounded Remy's cock. The slender hips jerked
in reaction. Remy moaned into the kiss. His eyes closed and his arms tightened
their embrace. The hot water poured over them.
 Scott swallowed the breathless moans that rumbled from his lover's chest. They
broke the kiss, panting for air. Scott looked into lust dilated pupils and
smiled. He recaptured Gambit's lips with fierce possessiveness. The Cajun
whimpered. Scott loved the reckless abandon of Remy's thrusting hips. There was
a brief pause for breath as his teeth tugged at Remy's lower lip. Then, Scott's
mouth sealed over the younger man's again. Remy's thrusting was almost wild.
 "Sil vous plait," Remy whispered barely moving from Scott's mouth. The hand in
his hair held  him firmly in place. "Dieu! Let m' come, cher. Tell m'."
 "Come, Sweets. I want to feel you in my hand."
 Remy came, wrapping his bliss around Scott's mind, not even noticing when he
dragged his lover over the line. They clung to one another for a long moment.
 "That could easily become addictive," Scott murmured. "Let's get cleaned up and
I'll tuck you in."
 "Y' stay wit' m'?"
 "For awhile."
 "Bein."
 Scott smiled.

 Logan was tracing Jean's nipples with one fingertip when she woke. She shivered
under the gentle touch. One finger became two as he traced over her lips. She
sucked at them, tasting salt and metal.
 He ran his wet fingers down the center of her body. Her legs fell open for him
and he continued the line that bisected her torso. He placed a wet kiss just
above the soft, red curls of her pubis. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.
 He licked his way up the inside of her right thigh, stopping before he got
anywhere interesting and then repeated the process with the left. Her quiet
groan of disappointment made him smile. He lingered at the join between leg and
thigh, sucking and lapping at the skin there until he'd left his mark. One of
Jean's fine fingered hands tangled in his short brown hair, urging him towards
her center.
 He inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her and the lingering scents of his
other lovers on her skin. The subtle musk of her arousal made him hard. He nosed
through the soft curls, exploring her slowly with the tip of his tongue. Her
hand settled on his head. "Please," she whispered. He grinned and carefully
outlined the edge of her slit with his tongue once more before nuzzling at her
navel again. "Logan," she moaned. "Don't tease."
 He laughed, the hot air of his breath tickling her sweaty skin. He went down on
her then and licked her to a climax. His tongue was almost brutal in its
single-minded attack. She sobbed as she came, "Logan."

 Scott tucked the quilt more firmly around his sleeping lover. He smoothed the
Cajun's hair feeling overwhelmingly protective. He shook his head and reminded
himself that Gambit could fight. In fact, the young man had just kicked his ass
in the Danger Room. He still couldn't help wanting to keep the world away from
the thief. He wanted to keep him safe. Just like he wanted to keep Jean out of
the line of fire. Especially now that she was pregnant. Maybe if they ganged up
on her they could get her to stay out of battle. "Sleep well, Sweets," Scott
whispered. He shut the door quietly behind himself.

 Warren hummed under his breath as he jogged around the grounds. He saw Bobby
near the lake and so avoided that area like the plague. Bobby and water wasn't
good at the best of times. He moved back towards the house, then turned to look.
Bobby was sitting on the rocks, just staring into the water. He looked pensive.
"Shit." Warren walked over to him and settled down on the rock. "Deep thoughts?"
 "Yeah."
 "Want to share?"
 "Not really."
 "But you will?" Warren raised a brow in disbelief.
 "I've got to talk to somebody. If I don't talk to you, Slim will probably
badger me about it. Then, he'll sick Hank on me."
 "That bad, huh?"
 "I guess. I'm just sort of generally angsting about life."
 "You're allowed. It comes with your age."
 Bobby snorted. "Yeah. My age. I'm older than Gambit."
 "So?"
 "War, when was the last time you saw anyone on this team give me half the
respect they give the Cajun? Even when people don't like him, they respect what
he says or does. Except Scott, but that's just Scott being himself. At least
they think he's competent. Me? I can't even use my powers effectively."
 "Bobby," Warren sighed. "Are you really comparing yourself to a thief?"
 "He's a very good thief," Bobby objected automatically.
 Warren blinked. "And now you're defending him? I thought you didn't even like
him."
 "Well, not exactly." Bobby stared into the water. "I don't like his attitude. I
don't like his profession. I think his clothes are a disgrace. I don't like the
fact that he dated Rogue. I don't like that fucking trenchcoat, or the bullshit
accent. But I know Remy a little better than I used to. You should have been
there when Rogue dumped him, Warren. It was awful. He wasn't even close to the
man we see in battle. And she broke his heart."
 "I think he's doing pretty good on the rebound," Warren drawled.
 Bobby snorted. "Right. Warren, sometimes you don't know shit. They're still
thinking he's going to bolt. There's one of those three with him every minute of
the day, unless he's with Storm or someone else on the team. They only leave him
alone when they're sure he can't just bolt. Wolverine always paces when Gambit's
out somewhere. He always has. I had to threaten to freeze his ass to a chair one
night before I got any sleep. Rogue broke his heart. I saw it, Warren. I was
there. It was the nastiest break-up I've ever had the misfortune to witness. And
that includes Storm and Forge."
 Warren winced. "Okay, so you feel sorry for the bastard. Why are you trying to
measure yourself against him? The two of you have nothing in common."
 "Yeah. He comes from a shit background and I had two stable homes. Damn it,
Warren, I don't even *like* accounting all that much. I've never lived on my
own. Well, never for long enough to count. I couldn't leave work fast enough to
come back to be on the team. Shit, I've never fucked up as badly as the Cajun,
but that's because I've *never* had the opportunity. What was the last big
decision in my life, Warren?"
 Warren didn't have an answer.
 "There isn't one, Warren. That's the problem."

--