Outside the lab
The small room, usually empty, was crowded, as the small group waited for
McCoy to return with the lab results. Thanks to Sh'air medical technology,
DNA tests were quicker but the wait was still just as anxious.
"Remy," Scott's called, waking his younger brother out of some daydream.
It infuriated the X-Men leader to no end at how Gambit always had a knack
for tuning him out. "What was Sinister telling you before we destroyed the
force field?"
Remy gave him a nonchalant look, acting as if he hadn't a clue.
Things never changed, and as usual, Scott lost his temper. "It's
important, damn it."
"It can wait, Scott," Corsair said, ending Scott's hopes of learning
Sinister's next move. The pirate ignored his puzzling expression, and
returned to slapping the pages of a sports magazine as he flipped through
it.
Cyclops stared at his father, understanding Corsair's reluctance to have
the test done, but another glance at Remy surprised him. Usually Gambit
masked his feelings, giving no indication at what he was thinking, however,
now, Remy looked distracted.
Something wasn't right, and somehow Scott was convinced Sinister was
occupying Gambit's attention, and it had nothing to do with the DNA test.
"You worry too much," Jean whispered in his ear. She clutched his hand
and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "No matter what happens, we will get
through this. We just have to be patient."
Corsair heaved a frustrated sigh, and then tossed it down on the table.
"What's taking so long?"
"I guess I spoke too soon," Jean added with a smile.
"Twenty-five minutes, it's been only," Hepzibah answered, attempting to
calm her agitated lover. She picked up the magazine and gave it back to
Corsair, adding, "Time needs McCoy, hindrance not."
Moments later, the lab door opened and McCoy and Cecilia walked out, each
holding a clipboard.
"I have the results," Hank stated, removing his glasses and pocketing
them in his lap jacket.
Corsair, Hepzibah, and Jean slowly stood up, each waiting for the news
that would either be exciting or devastating. Scott climbed to his feet,
fighting the urge to run. He wanted to know the truth, and yet was afraid
of it.
He glanced at Remy, who apparently was still memorized by the wall he had
been staring at for the past half-hour. Scott backhanded him, striking
Gambit on the shoulder to get the younger man's attention. "Hank's here,"
he said, nodding at the doctor when Remy shot him a threatening glare.
Remy's eyes darted to McCoy, and at the clip board the doctor was
holding. "Henri, Mebbe..."
"Destroy it," Corsair said, interrupting whatever Remy wanted to say.
Corsair's words shocked everyone into silence. "I said, destroy it," the
pirate repeated, gritting his teeth tightly. "or I will,"
Both doctors exchanged confusing glances before McCoy slowly nodded in
agreement. "I'll do it, Christopher," Hank promised, pulling the paper free
from the clipboard. He disappeared inside the lab, and then returned a
moment later. "I incinerated it," McCoy revealed. "Is it your wish that
only Cecelia and myself know the results of the DNA test?"
Corsair glanced at Scott and then at Remy. He walked over to Gambit,
placed his hands on the young man's shoulders. "I don't want to know
because it makes no difference to me," the pirate said, almost choking with
emotion. Without warning, Corsair pulled Remy into an embrace, holding him
for a long time before he was able to speak. "You're my son, nothing else
matters." With those words, Corsair released the younger man, took Hepzibah
by the hand, and walked out of the room.
McCoy cleared his throat, politely wanting an answer to the question
Corsair had refused to answer. "Remy, do you wish to know the results of
the DNA test?"
"Non," Gambit answered, staring back at the door Corsair, and Hepzibah
just exited. Relief swept across his face, and then disappeared just as
quick. "If dere be nothin' else, Henri, I'm leaving. Rogue's been waitin'
long enough."
Amazed that Remy revealed such emotion, Scott wondered if his brother had
another motive for not wanting the results known, but before he could ask,
Remy left the room. He turned back to Hank, and asked, "Did you perform
other tests with Remy's blood sample?"
"Now Scott, you know that is privilege information," Jean teased, winking
at McCoy before guiding her husband out the door. "I'm sure I can take your
mind off being a leader for awhile, hum."
"Who's leading who?" He asked, kissing her as the door sealed shut
behind them.
Hank followed Cecilia back inside the lab. He hung the magnetized
clipboard on the metal board, walked over to the refrigerating machine, and
pulled out the test tube marked 'LeBeau'.
He mentally debated the ethical issue of performing tests without the
patient's knowledge or approval. Perhaps if he tried hard enough, Hank
could convince himself that learning more about Remy's genetic makeup would
give the X-Men a better understanding of how they could destroy Sinister.
"Well Corsair solved our problem, didn't he?" Cecilia said, interrupting
his thoughts. "I didn't have the heart to tell the man the truth."
"I know, Cecilia," Hank replied, staring at the blood sample. "I know."
___________________________________________
Rogue stood up and hitched in a sharp breath when her tired muscles
screamed in protest. It wasn't until she glanced skyward and noticed the
stars did she realize night had fallen. Shocked, she checked the time and
discovered she had been waiting for three hours.
Three hours? That had to be a record for her. Normally she wasn't so
patient, but with her thoughts on how she would face Remy, time had simply
gotten away from her.
What seemed like minutes, but had actually been hours ago, Storm had
visited, trying her best to convince Rogue that everything would be all
right. Once Storm left, Jean and Betsy took her place on the balcony with
what they called a serious 'girl talk', but had in fact turned into a pep
talk.
Did the professor think she was so worried that he had to send in
reinforcements to encourage her? Deep down Rogue was thankful for their
support, but dealing with Remy and the Antarctica fiasco was her problem.
Secretly she had rehearsed how she would apologize, and make things right
between the two of them again, but the dilemma facing her was one small
detail; How to be sincere without sounding like a helpless idiot.
Footsteps announced she wasn't alone.
"Rogue?"
The moment she had been dreading finally arrived. She swallowed,
moisturizing her dry throat, and turned to face the unknown.
"Remy," she acknowledged, waiting until he moved closer. When he walked
by her, choosing to stare off without looking at her, she got anxious.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and stood beside him by the
balcony railing.
The security lights, usually a nuisance when one wanted some privacy,
gave off an eerie glow. It illumined the balcony, shedding enough light to
conceal nothing within several feet. Rogue reached up, and allowed her
fingers to run through Remy's hair. When he didn't respond to her touch,
she grew concerned, and wondered if the family reunion hadn't gone as
planned.
"Ya look tired, Remy," she said, reluctant to ask about the reunion. If
he wanted her to know, he would tell her. "We could wait and talk later if
ya want."
"Non, we need to clear de air," he said, lifting his head. "But, after
today, we never bring it up again, no?"
Unsure what that meant, Rogue decided to take matters into her own
hands. "Remy, Ah didn't know at th' time that you were controlling mah
actions, making me leave you behind."
"Chère, I,"
"No, Remy," she pleaded, placing her gloved fingers across his lips.
"Please let me finish while Ah still have tah courage."
Reluctantly, he nodded.
"Once Ah regained my senses Ah shoulda told th' others what happened, but
Ah was too ashamed to admit what Ah had done," Rogue began, nervously
waiting for his response to her confession. Surprisingly Remy remained
silent, giving her reason to be optimistic. "Ah honestly believed Ah could
find you, and make things right for the way Ah acted at the trial..."
"Blaming yourself for something beyond your control is pointless."
"But Ah feel like a damn fool," she countered angrily, wondering why Remy
was being so forgivable? Rogue placed her hands on her hips, and glared at
the man she loved, determined for once to get a straight answer out of him.
"Do ya know something about that trial that you're not tellin' me?"
Remy started laughing.
Rogue stood there dumbfounded, unable to comprehend what was happening.
She had prepared herself, expecting to be cursed, ignored, or at best
forgiven, but never had she expected Remy to laugh off the Antarctica
incident as a joke.
"Ah don't understand how you can laugh when Ah left ya to die," she said,
growing angry. "Here Ah am, pouring mah heart out and you're standing there
laughing at me."
"I'm not laughing at you, Rogue. Jus' something you said 'bout feelin'
like a fool,"
"And?" Rogue asked, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. "This
better be good, swamp rat, because Ah 'bout ready tah..."
"Who called themselves judge, jury an' executioner at that trial?"
"Magneto, but Ah don't see how..." her eyes widened, finally
understanding. Discovering a crime against mutant kind had gone unpunished,
Erik never rested until he chastised the offender personally. It bordered
on an obsession with Erik Lensherr Magnus. "Oh mah Gawd, if Sinister used
Magneto to make that trial a mockery..."
"Ol' Bucket Head is gonna blow his top when he finds out too."
Rogue started laughing, visioning Magneto kicking the tar out of
Sinister. "How 'bout some payback, Sugah? Ah think we're both entitled."
"I can think of other people I prefer to see than Magneto, Rogue," Remy
said, frowning at the idea. "De FOH, de Assassins, Apocalypse jus' to name
a few."
"Heck no, Ah'm not talking about Magneto," Rogue gasped, feigning shock
over the suggestion.
"Who den?"
"You have your little secrets, Remy, an' Ah have mine." She said,
taunting him with a confident grin. Let him stew in his own juices trying
to figure out a secret or two for a change.
Her wrist communicator started beeping, interrupting her moment of
triumph. Annoyed, Rogue huffed an angry sigh, and snapped into the
communicator. "Ah'm busy, what'da want?"
"Rogue, the professor has invited us to his favorite restaurant," Scott
answered.
"Is that what you wanted?" Rogue asked, furious over Cyclops' bad
timing. "Remy and Ah have other plans."
"Not tonight," Scott said, raising his voice with authority. "You two
can do God knows what some other night."
"What's tah matter, Sugah? Jealous?"
Remy started laughing.
"That's not funny, Rogue," Scott snapped, clearly offended by the
laugher. "We're leaving in ten minutes, don't make me come looking for
you."
"For cryin' out loud, Cyclops, why don't ya slap a diaper on mah ass and
tell me to go to bed," Rogue shouted, seething at the man for treating her
like a baby. Well, Scott Summer had better think his lucky stars he wasn't
in her line of sight now or he would be sucking on her fist. "Remy and Ah
will meet ya at tah dad blame restaurant. Rogue out."
"You hung up on Scotty," Remy joked, tsking her with a long finger.
"Remind me to pop in on him and Jean late one night, will ya," Rogue
vowed. "Ah know Ah should try to control mah temper but Ah swear Scott
knows how to push mah buttons."
______________________
Downstairs
"Don't think those two are goin' to be pleasant company tonight, Slim,"
Wolverine said, biting down on the unlit cigar. China could have heard the
heated conversation between Cyclops and Rogue, and judging from Summers'
current disposition he could only imagine Rogue's temperament. "Mebbe ya
shoulda asked them instead of orderin' them."
"It wasn't an order, Logan," Scott countered, crossing the center of the
room to explain his interpretation. "Until Sinister plays his next hand, I
don't want anyone alone and becoming a possible target."
"Forget Sinister, I wanna know why Creed took off before the real action
started," Wolverine remarked. Summers' was in a snit, and he wasn't in the
mood to argue with the man. His concern was Sabretooth, and the ominous
feeling Creed had another motive behind his departure.
"Maybe Creed didn't like the deal he made with Sinister," Warren
suggested, entering the room, dressed in a black tuxedo. Angel gently
pulled at a cuff, and added, "I'm sorry I wasn't here when everyone needed
me, but the second I saw Harpoon, I guess I lost it."
"It's alright Warren," Jean replied. "We captured the other Marauders.
What happened to Harpoon?"
"I let him go. Where he went, I have no idea, but I believe he will not
be bothering us anytime soon," Angel answered, and then changed the
subject. "I'm ready for dinner, anyone else?"
"What about the Marauders?" Scott asked. "I don't feel right leaving
the mansion while those characters are..."
"Don't wet on yourself, Summers', I'm stayin' behind," Wolverine said,
ending Cyclops' tiresome routine 'security first' speech. Casting a casual
glance at Prism and Vertigo, he added with a toothy grin. "Prism, yer gonna
help me feed yer former friends. I jus' hope they don' like the grub, cause
I'll enjoy crammin' it down their throats for my amusement."
"Logan, I'm counting on you not to start anything with the Marauders."
"Don' worry about me, Cyke. I don't start anything, I finish it."
"I don't like the idea of leaving you alone to guard the prisoners,"
Cyclops admitted. "Are you sure that I ..."
"If you don't stop yer worryin', yer gonna be old before ya time,
Summers," Wolverine said, walking Scott to the front door. "I said I can
handle things, now go. Everyone's waiting on ya."
"Logan, don't disappoint me."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slamming the door the instant Scott was
outside. He stood by the door, listening as the vehicles cranked up and
left the mansion. "Bout time," he declared, walking back to his favorite
chair. He picked up the remote, determined to watch a game without any
interruption.
"What about the Marauders," Vertigo asked. "I'm sure they are..."
"They can wait until the game's over," Wolverine snarled, changing the
channel to ESPN. The hockey game had already started. Growling, he added,
"An' I hope th' game goes into triple overtime."
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Vertigo leaving. "Goin'
somewhere lady?"
"My room," Vertigo answered, stopping in front of the television screen
to give him a dirty glance. "I don't like sports."
"Then move yer ass outta my way," he sneered, trying to see the game.
"Unlike Prism, yer not made outta glass."