<Jesus Wolverine> Logan thought. <Didn�t know you had such stunts in you. You some high school kid?>
Well apparently.
He had, ever so subtly, brought up the subject of a poker night with Hank, brought it up so successfully in fact, that Hank had thought it was his own idea.
Which was the point, obviously.
An evening with the team, relaxing, socializing. An evening when he could watch Remy.
It was a brilliant success actually. Everyone was there, even Fearless, after Hank had laid a few well placed words about �team unity� in his ear. Gambit had won of course, but not badly enough that the others weren�t eager for a rematch. It was a lesson a thief knew better than anyone- sheer the sheep before you skin it.
After that, game night became a tradition. Then there was ice skating (when Remy got to make up for his ease at the card table with his total lack of grace on the pond) and Christmas that passed with all of them together, laughing and giving unexpected gifts just like some sort of damn Norman Rockwell lithograph.
Logan, watching the kid blossom, watching the team begin to pull together as a family again, began to think that maybe this was real. Maybe the other shoe wouldn�t drop. He even managed to convince himself, watching his friends and loved ones, that the strange melancholy longing he felt when he watched the Cajun across the dinner table, or felt the soft weight of the kid�s head resting on his shoulder after having dropped off during some stupid sports show or other, was his own happiness, was the nostalgia for a peace he had never known until now.
Well, it was possible.
And then the other shoe did drop.
Looking back, it turned out that what saved them, ironically, was Scott�s idiotic pride bruised at losing another poker game.
�Damn it, Cajun, you�re cheating.�
Remy looked up and winked. �Non, monsieur. With your skill Remy don�t need to cheat. Remy jes have the luck of the devil.�
�Really? The luck of the devil?�
�Oui.�
�Alright then. Tuesday, when the rest of us go on that mission to rout out that nest Friends of Humanity low-lifes in Iowa, one lucky team member is going to have to fly to Scotland, to pick up new medical supplies.� There were groans all round. Everyone hated med-runs, they were boring and took forever, a full day and then jet lag as a result of the small plane�s sonic flying system. To be forced to forgo a mission that sounded like good fun, for one that was a huge pain in the ass would be hard to bear.
�Now,� continued Cyke, �I was going to add that into the chore rotation, but how about a wager Remy, you and me? If I lose, Storm can lead the team.�
�Oui, monsieur, sounds fun.� Remy flipped the cards. �Any game you want.�
�Oh no, no cards. Let�s do this square. We�ll flip a coin. You call it and we�ll see how the luck of the devil holds out.� Remy nodded.
Beast pulled out a quarter and spun it through the air.
�Tails.� said Remy.
Hank caught the coin against the back of his hand and paused theatrically. �It�s heads.�
�Ah well,� Remy said philosophically, �mebe there be some cute lassies in Scotland Remy can meet, non?�
�Oh no. We had a deal. There and back in less than 12 hours. I�ll be timing you Cajun.� Cyke smiled as Remy sighed theatrically.
They all got an early start on Tuesday. Cyke wanted to get a few hours stake-out on the hive and rousted Remy out of bed as well, with all the apparent pleasure of a true sadist.
�I�m going, I�m going.� Remy grumbled as he climbed into the small plane and took off a full 4 minutes before the rest of the X-Men.
Even by med-run standards it was a hellish trip. The plane broke down in mid flight and Remy had to limp all the way to the island six hours late, then spend the better part of that day and the next flat on his back trying fix the damn thing.
�I hope you�re timing me Cyke. I hope you�re timing me and imagining me in all them pubs with a sweetheart on each knee. Mebe you get an ulcer, non? Who was supposed to be in charge of maintenance anyway?� he muttered. �Oh right, me.�
He grimaced as a jet of oil hit him square in the face. At this rate he�d never get back.
************************************************************************
Logan dodged a bullet that came whistling past his ear. �Fuck, fuck fuck fuck FUCK.� They were in it heavy, that was for sure, far heavier than any of them had expected. Scott was down somewhere to his left and Logan couldn�t get clear to help him. On his right Storm was battling hand to hand. Hand to hand? He spared time for a glance over his shoulder and saw something glowing around her neck as she swung a knife up towards the face of an FoH attacker.
What the fuck is going on? No way this trash is getting the drop on us! Then to his left he heard a scream. <Jean!> He spun towards the sound and suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. He couldn�t move. His legs were locked, his arms- He watched his body as it crumbled upon itself in slow motion. <What�s happening?> He heard a sound above him but, paralyzed, couldn�t even turn his head to see it was.
Above him came a hollow laugh. Sinister! Suddenly it all made sense, their being outnumbered, the collars, the presence of strange mutants in the fight. It was a trap. He struggled against his own muscles but still couldn�t move. Then he felt a pinch around his neck, something came down across his nose and mouth and the world went dark.
Back at the mansion, Xavier was monitoring the fight through Jean with increasing concern.
~Professor, we are being overwhelmed. I think- then he felt her being hit, felt her fall-
~JEAN!
~Hello Xavier.- A different colder voice. ~I would like to introduce you to my new mutant. She�s a telepath too.
Then there was blinding pain. Sometime before he hit the floor Charles Xavier was conscious only of his own screams.
************************************************************************
Remy touched down on the landing pad at the mansion with a sigh of relief. Home at last. Surprisingly, he almost believed it. The past few months had been some of the happiest in his life. Ever so slowly Remy was beginning to believe he was a member of the team again.
<I�d never believed in second (or third) chances. Lucky for me I guess a few others do.>
He smiled. He had always loved his teammates for the work they did. Now he loved them for the kindness they showed him. <Even if Remy don�t deserve it.> He pressed the button to unlatch the pressurized door.
Something was wrong.
Before his feet touched the landing pad he was running flat out, afraid of what lay around each corner, afraid of what he might find. But the mansion was empty.
He found Xavier in the control room. The older man was curled against a consol, his arm against his head and his eyes closed as if he had fallen asleep there. He barely stirred as Remy lifted him from the chair to lay him down on the floor.
�Professor?� asked Remy. �Can you hear me?�
Xavier�s eyes fluttered open. �Remy,� he gasped. �Thank God.� Xavier�s voice was hoarse. How long had he been unconscious?
�Professor, what happened? The others-�
�Ambushed, they were taken. Jean was hurt, the others, I don�t know. They had a telepath Class 7 or 8 maybe- I wasn�t expecting- I wasn�t on guard- �
Remy watched alarmed, as his mentor became more and more agitated. Whatever had happened to the team there was little that Xavier could do about it in his present condition. Even through his shields Remy could feel the man radiating pain. <They hurt him somehow, don�t know how bad.>
�Professor I�m going to take you to the medical lab.� But the professor could no longer hear him. His head had fallen back and he was mumbling incoherently.
Beast had insisted the team be briefed in basic emergency medicine, �just in case� he�d said. Remy had complained, had barely managed to make himself stay in the lab for all of the training, but now he was glad. His hands barely shook as he attached the IV to the professor�s arm, and selected a telepath-friendly sleep aid. His hand hesitated over the pain killers. The professor was obviously in pain, but without knowing what had been done to him.....
He walked back over to Xavier�s bed. �Professor? I want to try to help relieve the pain. Will that be okay?� Xavier looked at him blankly. Remy felt at a complete loss. But whatever injury he had could be worsening and Jean was- far away.
Slowly he placed a hand on each side of Xavier�s head. Then he nudged up against the pain and damage he felt there and pulled.
The first wave of pain nearly knocked him off his feet. He felt his knees give out as he clutched at the bed with his elbows, desperate not to break the connection with the professor, though every instinct in him screamed to pull his hands back. Finally he felt Xavier�s suffering begin to ebb, the wounds in his mind start to close. Remy pulled back.
He had not healed him, just set him on the path to healing himself. He was afraid to do more. The process was extremely draining and he would need all his strength if he were going to- to do what he put off thinking about in his rush to see to the professor.
�Professor, I�m going to give you something to make you sleep, oui?�
As the needle slid under Xavier�s skin he reached up and caught Remy�s wrist in a hard grip. �You will get them back won�t you?� His eyes were suddenly clear and a little too bright. �You must promise me Remy, to bring them home.�
�Oui.� Remy said. �I promise, professor.� He tried very hard not to flinch, not to show doubt as he met Xavier�s eyes. The hand on his wrist slackened. Xavier was asleep.
Remy returned to the control room. His hands were shaking harder now. <Think LeBeau, think.> Images rose in his mind, his friends, hurt, maybe worse, maybe dead. <Okay, don�t think about that.> He made a list, put himself through it mechanically.
Last year Beast had inserted tiny encoded trackers into each of the team members in case of some such emergency. Remy called up his friends� trackers now, knowing with an awful certainty what the coordinates would be before they even flashed across the screen. Sinister�s lab. His jaw tightened. <So be it.>
He called Moira about the Professor. She could be there in seven hours, her plane was slow. Remy didn�t want to leave the professor alone, but it looked like he would have to.
�Moira,� said Remy calmly. �I won�t be here when you arrive. But the professor will know to activate the trackers. If I don�t come back-�
�If you don�t come back we�ll send someone else for them, Remy. Don�t worry. We will get them out. I promise you.� Moira�s voice was all calm efficiency.
�You understand I can�t wait. The odds of success are very small, but in the 3 or four days it would take to assemble another team- � Remy�s voice started to shake along with his hands.
�Yes.� Said Moira. �I understand. Needs must. Goodbye, Remy. Good luck.� Then the com was dead.
His hands moved with precision as he packed his thieving equipment into his bag. He had never gotten rid of it, despite Scott�s insistence. �X-men don�t steal,� he�d said it over and over, like Remy was in danger of forgetting. <Needs must.> Moira�s words haunted him.
His fear of death- never terribly profound to begin with- his fear of Sinister even, were completely overwhelmed, utterly submerged in his profound fear of failure. And failure seemed inevitable.
<Sinister�s labs have the most advanced security in the world. And plenty of body-men, mutants too. Dieu, help me. I have to get them out. What Sinister will do-> the face of his teammates swam before his eyes.
Before leaving the Mansion in the cover of dark he forced himself to take two hours of sleep, precisely regulated with a little medication. His instincts urged him to get underway as soon as possible, but he knew that helping Xavier had taken a lot out of him, much more than he could afford.
<Don�t be a hero LeBeau,> he thought as he reluctantly climbed into bed. His laugh echoed weirdly down the empty corridors.
***********************************************************************
Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. PAIN! Logan jerked awake suddenly, his body screaming at him.
He was on fire everywhere. It felt as is his bones were melting in puddles of acid. He opened his eyes.
Victor Creed stood grinning down at him.
�Wakey, wakey.� Creed kicked him hard in the stomach. Logan doubled up, gagging. He hadn�t smelled Creed. Then he felt the pinch of the metal band around his neck. Collared.
Suddenly the burning in his bones made sense. Adamantium poisoning. Without his healing factor to compensate, his body was being poisoned by the toxic adamantium that laced his bones. <Ugh.> Creed kicked him again. Logan spat blood. <Well it looks as if I won�t die from it.>
�Glad to see me, runt?� snarled Creed. �I sure am happy to see you.� He pulled Logan up by the collar and banged his head against the bars of the cage. Logan felt his head roll against his neck. He was having a hard time thinking. He wasn�t used to pain like this. He hadn�t built up a threshold.
�You�re my little reward, for helping Sinister to capture the rest of the X-men.� said Creed, throwing Logan down and kicking him across the face. �So you and me are going to have some fun.� He unzipped his pants. �Now, first I�d like you to show your appreciation to me for your not being dead.� He waved his cock in Logan�s face. �Open wide.�
�Anything you put in my mouth is dinner.� Logan grunted.
�Not if you don�t got no teeth.� Creed snatched up the iron bar he had carried in and brought it down across Logan�s jaw. Logan felt bones splinter. He fell back against the ground struggling not to black out. Blood was pouring into his eyes. He couldn�t see. Creed grabbed him by his hair and propped him up against the wall. He held the bar aloft, battering ram style to take out what was left of Logan�s teeth.
�Charming as this tableau is,� came a voice from behind him, �I�m afraid I must interrupt.�
�I�m busy Sinister.� said Creed.
�Yes, well, I�d noticed. But the fact of the matter is you haven�t fulfilled your end of the bargain, Creed. There is an X-man unaccounted for. One I was most particularly interested in showing my hospitality towards.�
�You mean the thief? He wasn�t on the mission.�
�Go pick him up.�
�I�m busy. Send the Pest.�
�I have other plans for her. She has to stay here and watch the lab while I go collect the other specimens. You go.� Creed turned to stare at Sinister. A battle of wills ensued, one that Sinister won easily.
�We ain�t through, runt. Not by a long shot.� Creed kicked Logan hard in the head again as he stormed from the cage.
Logan tumbled into darkness.
************************************************************************
If this had been a professional job he would have gotten the blueprints for the compound, studied them carefully, found and exploited every weakness. But that sort of thing took time he most definitely didn�t have. So instead, he tried the next best thing. He walked in the front door.
<What the hell, Sinister�s unlikely to be watching the cameras himself.>
It was the first time in his life he had ever used his charm power deliberately and he was flabbergasted by how well it worked. He�d always thought of it as shameful, something akin to a sickness, but damned if the two security guards at the door didn�t just stare at him in wide-eyed wonder as he passed.
The cranky-looking Commander in the hallway was harder. Hero worship didn�t work for him. Remy had to go with all-out ball-breaking lust. The guy didn�t know what hit him. He literally picked Remy up in his haste to get to the nearest utility closet. Then he didn�t know what hit him. Again. His uniform was a perfect fit. There were even Ray-Bans.
Remy went after Wolverine first. Odds were he would be the one most likely in condition to help get the others.
He pulled out his little tracking device. This was going to be tricky. It showed Remy�s position and Logan�s, but no architectural details in between. He kept hitting blind walls and strange turns and his nervousness increased. Then, just as he was about to bang his head on the wall in frustration, he came around the corner and froze in his tracks, staring horrified at the small cage before him.
Wolverine curled himself tighter into a little ball. His injuries from his beating were still painful, but they were slowly fading from his consciousness. They were nothing compared with the deep seeping pain inside. That pain was mortal.
<Never thought I�d die like this.> He thought. <Caught in a cage like an animal. Fading away. I always wanted to go out fighting.> He tried to pull himself upright, tried once more to get free. But his muscles refused to obey. He was sorry about the others, sorry he couldn�t help them, sorry.....
The lock of the collar was slick with blood. Remy forced all thoughts from his mind, all the screams over Logan�s condition, all the fear that he might already be too late.
<Do your job, LeBeau. Get it done. Think later.> The lock parted, the collar was off.
Remy began to run his hands over Logan�s frame, trying to warm the cold body, trying to massage the muscles into processing the poisons faster. He was worried. Logan was pale, cold and still. Remy could barely see him breathing.
<Oh Jesus, Jesus, be okay. Please, be okay. Remy�s here for you. Remy�s always been here for you. Just reach out.>
Logan came into awareness with Remy running his delicate hands up and down his body. <Jesus, kid, if I�d know this was all it took to get you touch me I would have gotten an ass whipping a long time ago.>
He opened his eyes. �You flirting kid?�
�Oui.� Remy exhaled in relief. The cuts above Wolverine�s eyes were closing. The fact that he could speak at all through that jaw was a very good sign. �Wolverine, I�m sorry, I have to go and find the others. Do you understand?�
Wolverine nodded. �Yeah, kid of course.�
�I think you�ll be alright in a few seconds.� He pressed the second tracker into Wolverine�s palm. �And then you know what to do.�
�Yeah.� growled the Wolverine and he unsheathed his claws.
Storm lay strapped to the slab in Sinister�s lab. Around her lay the other X-men. She needed a bit of wire, a pin or spring -- anything. She glanced around. The slight movement of her head caused a wave of dizziness to rush over her. <I bumped the collar.>
�What is it?� she�d croaked as Sinister had plugged her collar into a strange device next to the slab.
�It takes a biopsy.� Sinister had said. �I already got blood and skin samples from you and now I will drain off some of your powers so I can study them in pure form. Of course I might take a slightly larger sample than I needed for the others. It has the added benefit of leaving you weak.�
Glancing round the room Storm could see it was true. Other than herself, only Beast seemed to be even conscious. Scott didn�t even seem to be breathing. <I have to get up out of here.>
�Hi cher. Miss me?�
For a second she thought she was hallucinating. �Remy? How did you-�
�Easy cher. Not so loud. Remy sort of undercover here. I�ll have you out in a sec.� The collar came loose. The shackles clicked open. Storm started to fall forward.
�Cher.� Remy caught her and a look of genuine fear came over his face. �You okay?�
�Yes I�m fine, the machine just- I don�t know- sapped some of my powers.�
Gambit looked at the glowing cylinder doubtfully. �That must really be a tempest in a teacup.�
He lowered Storm gently to the floor. �Cher, Remy is going to go help the others.�
In just moments he had gotten the collars off, but by now he was seriously concerned. The X-men were weak, Beast was walking and Storm had regained a bit of her color, but Cyke was unconscious and Rogue wasn�t too much better. Bobby had a nasty pallor Remy didn�t like at all.
Remy knelt beside Rogue. �I don�t think you want this Cher, but I don�t see as we have any choice.� He pressed a hand to Rogue�s cold face.
The energy rush out of him faster than he would have believed possible. If Beast hadn�t been there to pull him off he might have been in serious trouble. As it was the room spun around him and he began to shiver. Rogue sat bolt upright.
�What the hell was that?� Storm and Beast, looking at the pale, weakened Remy forbore from stating the obvious. Rogue scowled, annoyed. A lit spark of kinetic energy snapped between her fingers.
�Rogue can you get them to the Blackbird? I got to go after Jean and Warren.� Said Remy. Rogue nodded.
�Can do, sugar.� She took off and blasted a hole through the ceiling then returned to gather Cyke in her arms and fly him out of the makeshift tunnel.
Remy looked at the gaping ceiling. Somewhere in the distance alarms began to shrill. �Well I guess they know we�re here now.� he muttered.
He was sweating badly by the time he found the room where Jean and Warren were being held. To his surprise it was empty. �Where the hell�s Sinister anyway?� he muttered, running into the room.
�How the hell should I know, get us out of here!� yelled Warren. On the bench beside him lay Jean. Remy swallowed when he saw her. She looked very, very pale. But he crossed to Warren first. If anyone came in while he was picking locks it would be better to have Warren watching his back. <Or may be not.>
�Hurry up, hurry up.� Warren was squirming.
�It would go faster, homme, if you would stop moving.� The alarms seemed to be increasing in volume. Hopefully by now the others were on the Blackbird. Where was Wolverine?
The lock snicked and before the tumbler had even fallen to let Warren free, Remy had turned his attention to Jean. He heard a sharp breathe from Warren and turned to see a strange woman standing in the doorway. Telepathic energy radiated from her so forcefully it seemed to warm the room.
<That�s Sinister�s new telepath, the one who took out the professor.> Now she had her sights set on Warren, who was tugging at his sleeve which had somehow gotten snagged on the open cuff.
Remy felt the power building around the woman. Without pausing to think, he grabbed Warren, pushing him down under him. Something hit him square in the back of the head.
His shields crumbled. Somewhere beneath him Warren began to scream.
Wolverine ran into the room just in time to see Remy take the blast meant for Warren. His heart leaped into his throat as both men went down in a tangle of arms and legs, with Warren wailing weirdly. Somewhere in the back of his head Logan noticed that Warren�s screams sounded oddly familiar. <He�s screaming like Remy during the nightmare.>
The telepath began to turn, but before she could ready another blast he crashed into her knocking her down for the count. He reached over and pulled Remy off of Warren.
Warren�s shrieks stopped immediately, he sagged to the ground near unconsciousness. Remy�s eyes opened slowly, a little glazed awareness in them.
Wolverine turned to Jean, slashing at her bonds. But the cuffs were made of Adamantium and wouldn�t budge.
�Shit!� Wolverine turned back to Remy. �Cajun. Cajun! You okay?� Remy nodded. �I need you to get Jean off the table.�
Remy sat up and shook his head to clear it. He felt like he�d been hit by a freight train. He mentally felt around for the remains of his shields and pulled them up, then stumbled over to Jean�s table. Picking the lock seemed to take an agonizingly long time. His hands felt numb and his vision kept fading in and out. Finally the locks clicked. By that time
Warren was moaning softly and stirring.
�I�ll get Jean.� said Logan. �You help Warren. It looks like he can walk.� But Warren refused jerked back at Remy�s touch and refused all help from him. Wolverine just about killed the man right then and there. �This ain�t the time for your snobbery Pigeon.�
Remy waved him off. �It�s fine mon ami.� He scooped up Jean and laid her over his shoulder. �She don�t weigh nothing anyway. Let�s get the hell out of here.� And that they did, running fast.
Back in the large room Rogue was hovering waiting for them. �What took y�all so long?� She grabbed Logan and Remy by one arm each and lifted them to the safty of the waiting plane.
�What the hell was that back there?� asked Logan when they were safely on the Blackbird.
Remy shrugged. He was looking better. His color was back and his eyes were focusing again. He�d admitted to having a killer headache, which meant he was probably fine, since if he�d been seriously injured he would have lied and said he was ok.
�My shields went down under the blast. I was holding Warren and he got a mindful. Guess he don�t like the way Remy feels.� Remy shuddered, knowing that Warren having an inside peek at his mind was going to be the cause of much humiliation farther down the line.
Logan wanted to ask the Cajun why he had taken such a blow for Warren in the first place. <Warren! What crap.> But he kept his mouth shut. In his mind he kept seeing the kid stepping into the blast, his head snapping up with its force, the way he�d slumped to the ground.... he shook his head.
�Pretty good run we had tonight huh?�
It was only then that Remy realized he had done it. He had gotten them all out. They were alive. He felt an impossibly wide grin split his face.
�Yeah mon ami. Pretty good run.�
The best thing Remy had ever seen in his life was Charles Xavier sitting in his chair on the landing and ready to welcome the Blackbird home.
The best thing he�d ever heard was Moira tell them that everyone was going to be fine.
Of course some were more fine than others. Wolverine, as usual, came through the best, better even than Remy, who was suffering from exhaustion and had a mild concussion that would prevent him from getting any sleep. Beast kept him in the lounge next to the lab for observation. Every once in a while he would poke his head out of the door and look at Remy�s drooping eyelids.
�More coffee!�
Remy would jerk awake and pour himself another cup.
Jean would be fine, although it would take Xavier some time to repair the damage done.
Scott would be fine as well. He�d broken an arm, which would keep him off the AD roster and make him pissy as hell, but that would be more of a trial for the people around him.
All the other X-men were just suffering from the effects of Sinister�s power drain, which produced symptoms not unlike a nasty flu. Almost everyone therefore, including Hank himself, were confined to the lab until the nausea, sweats, fever and dizziness had passed.
Warren was actually the first to recover. After only six hours Beast released him back to his own room. As he left the lab he found Remy sprawled in a chair by the door. The Cajun turned his exhausted eyes towards him.
�You did good tonight, swamp rat.�
�Merci.�
Warren cleared his throat. �And I wanted to thank you for the other-�
Remy shrugged too. �It was nothing.�
Warren couldn�t stop himself. �Why did you do it?�
Remy considered. �You�re a team mate. I have an obligation and I thought I might have certain- defenses you lack.� Please God let Warren not find out about the empathy. Please let him think it was the blast.
�Remy, when we got hit, that feeling, that was you, wasn�t it.� Remy nodded. Warren considered. It had all been so clear, the despair, the guilt and carried along with them the snatches of memory, himself lying broken on the floor of the tunnels, listening to screams around him, powerless....
�Then it-� Warren raised his eyes to Remy. �It wasn�t your fault. You tried to stop them. You almost died.�
Remy smiled bitterly. �Almost.�
Warren stared at him in horror. �Why didn�t you say anything?�
�Say what?�
�That you were innocent.�
�Remy was not innocent.�
�But you didn�t know what the marauders would do. They lied to you. They said no one would die. You didn�t know.�
�They lied to me, yes.� Remy paused. �But does that mean I didn�t know. I wonder. Did I take them through the tunnels because I believed them, or because I didn�t believe them and was afraid? That is what haunts me, every night. Did you know, LeBeau, did you know?� He laughed bitterly again. �It don�t matter. The hands, they are bloody just the same.�
Warren stared down at the Acadian in concern. It was exhaustion that had pushed Remy this close to the edge. Even so it was alarming to see. <I have wronged this man. I have wronged him deeply.>
Warren lowered himself to his heels so he was eye level with Remy. �LeBeau if there was ever any debt between us, surely tonight has settled it.� He extended his hand. �And for what it�s worth I forgive you whatever wrong you may have done me in the past.� <And I�m sorry.> But he didn�t say that out loud. He sensed from the few seconds he had shared Remy�s mind that that was an apology Remy would not understand. <I will have plenty of time to show him how sorry I am.>
Remy stared at Warren�s hand for a long moment. Then he took it in his own. �Thank you mon ami. I do not think you can understand what this means to me.�
�Coffee!� Hank bellowed from the doorway.