My shock and suspicion caused any tears to dry up immediately. He'd read our files at the mansion. He'd had access. What did he really want to know? I glanced at Alex and saw the same wary look I was sure was on my face. Then he asked, his tone very cautious, "What do you want to know? Master." The last word was added like a warning. Remy couldn't lay claim to our most precious memories. He had no right.

"You've read our files at Xavier's." I said as if to drive the point home. "You know our history."

"Oui. I know your history. But I want to know what it was like for you growing up wit' your baby brot'er."

"Why do you want to know?" I had to ask, but I tried to keep my voice casual. It didn't fool Remy. He sighed, almost sadly as if I'd betrayed him after all he had done to make this day pleasant.

"Just indulge me, cher. Lie if you want to." He shrugged. "I wouldn't know de difference. I'd just like to hear what it was like."

I felt a twinge of guilt for my suspicion. I'd assumed he had an ulterior motive, and while I was pretty certain he did have one, perhaps it wasn't something that he'd use to hurt us with, to control us. I got the sense he was sincerely interested in knowing more about us, as...not necessarily friends, but not necessarily as slaves either. Perhaps he was lonely, here in his domain of wealth and ostentatious living? Perhaps he was tired of court intrigues and wanted honesty? Although he'd told us we could lie. I don't think he'd really meant that. There was moment of pensive silence, when Alex said, "I don't remember much before the accident. I was pretty young. But I wasn't much trouble."

"Bullshit!" I snorted, caught momentarily off guard by my brother's comment, my wariness easing. "You were a brat!"

"I was not." Alex replied indignantly. "Mom said I was the perfect little angel."

I laughed. "She just knew how sensitive you were. She didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Alex grinned. "You are so full of it. You're the sensitive one." He looked up at Remy before I could defend myself and said, "I could piss him off so easily. We use to fight a lot. I liked to see him get all red when he got angry. It was hilarious."

The tension began to ease between the three of us as my brother spoke. Remy was meeting Alex's grin with a similiar heartwarming smile. But all the same, I was getting a bit ticked at Alex for what he was saying.

"Perfect little angel, my ass." I muttered

Alex knew full well he was just trying to rile me up. And he was succeeding to some extent. But then I smiled. I had an ace up my sleeve. "You know," I said to Remy. "now that I think about it, he really was a little angel." I almost laughed when I saw Alex frown wondering what I was up to. "In fact, he even looked like an angel one Christmas."

"Scott..." Alex warned, a vague memory coming back to him in a flash, "don't you dare..."

"Mom thought," I continued, ignoring him, "Alex was so cute with all that blond hair - it was curly then - that he could win the littlest angel contest. So she made the most adorable angel outfit for him."

Alex groaned. "I'm gonna kill you, Scott." It was like dragging out a picture of a naked baby on a bear skinned rug, and I was going to play up every minute of it. Remy was grinning from ear to ear in enjoyment.

"She made this white dress like a christening gown, all trimmed in gold." At this point I had to fight off Alex's hands as he tried to cover my mouth. "She..."

I slapped his hands away,

"even made..."

I slapped them away again,

"pretty white..."

This time I grabbed his wrists,

"wings!"

Fingers had reached a ticklish spot on my neck. "Stop!" I cried. "Master!" I implored Remy who was laughing heartily now. "Don't you want to hear this story?!"

"Oui! Oui!" Remy exclaimed as he tried to catch his breath. Finally he was able to stop laughing long enough to give Alex a stern look. "Alex. You let your brot'er finish." He ordered.

Alex pouted, but withdrew his fingers from my neck. I gave him an evil grin at which he immediately thwacked me on the head. "Hey!"

"Now, now." Remy scolded. "Behave." It was quite comical. Remy was acting like an amused mother hen with Alex and I reducing ourselves to preadolescent boys.

"G'on Scott. I want to hear dis," Remy bade me, smiling at Alex whose lips were pursed in a psuedo-irritated look. But he didn't really mind. We were two loving brothers sharing a fond memory.

"Well, the wings were white and trimmed in that fluffy material. They looked like the wings on those Victoria Secret models."

Remy glanced up at me amused. "You like to look at dose catalogs, cher?"

"Er...Jean use to order from them." I said, blushing a little in embarrassment. Alex and Remy broke out in renewed laughter.

"That's priceless!" Alex quipped, delighted to be gaining the upper hand for a moment. "Do you look at them when Jean's around? Or do you have to check them out when she's not looking? I bet that's a thought you have to shield around her."

I scowled at him and thumped his belly. "We're not talking about me." I retorted. Then I glared at Remy who was still laughing. "You want to hear this story or not?"

"G'on, g'on." He waved a hand, stifling his laughter with his other hand. It was Alex's turn to scowl.

"So anyway, she made a gold halo too. Now Alex was three, I think, when Mom entered him in the contest. It was being held at her church. The winner would receive an angel ornament and a 20 dollar gift certificate to the local toy store. Of course Mom really wanted that ornament. Dad thought it was hilarious. But he took tons of pictures."

"Too bad we lost them all." Alex said sarcastically.

I snorted and continued. "At the church all the little angels were lined up on stage, and the judges started looking them over, when Alex suddenly decided he could fly."

"Non!" Remy cried, his eye wide in mock horror.

"Yep. He caught Mom completely off guard and was able to pull out of her hand. Then he ran to the edge of the stage. He was giggling. I remember him giggling. Mom had recovered by that time and started after him, when he just leaped into the air. His halo was flung into the crowd and the fluffy stuff from his wings was flying everywhere. And Alex's little angel robe flew up over his head as he went down."

"Non!" Remy exclaimed again with a huge delighted grin. Alex was sulking, but his lips were having a distinctly hard time not twitching up into a smile.

"Yep." I answered again. "He landed smack on his ass. But he was still laughing like crazy. I can remember one eye peeking out from under the gown, which was part way over his head. He'd somehow managed to get his hands untangled and was clapping and bouncing."

"Dat's so cute!" Remy said, chuckling.

"Oh he was." I agreed. "The crowd was roaring and the judges too. Mom was standing at the edge of the stage looking confused. And Dad was laughing so hard he was crying. Of course Alex won the contest."

"How could he not?" Remy nodded.

"It was that kid's fault." Alex grumbled. "Johnny what's-his-name."

"What?" I asked looking up at him.

"The kid I was standing next to," Alex explained. "He told me I could fly. That the wings were real."

At that Remy and I started howling with laughter.

"Hey!" Alex, caught up in our amusement, started to crack up himself. "I was just a kid!"

It was a wonderful moment, all three of us laughing with tears in our eyes, as if we were the closest of friends. I had to admit I didn't want to see it come to an end. And for a while it didn't. Alex and I began to tell Remy about our childhood. What would have been the point not to? Maybe he could use the information against us. Maybe he couldn't. He had us pretty much where he wanted us. And it was nice to forget for a little while that we weren't really friends.

I did most of the telling because Alex couldn't remember much of what happened before the plane crash. We even shared some memories of the orphanage, before Alex was adopted. Although it wasn't much. Some stories we couldn't share. Not even with each other.

Remy seemed to hang on every word. He asked question after question. How did we feel? What was it like? How did that happen? He grilled us for details as if he wished he could have been there. Could have been part of our life. And I realized how lonely it must have been growing up on the streets of New Orleans with no one to take care of him. No one to really care whether he lived or died. At least I had Alex. I knew that even the Thieves Guild had never really accepted him. There were many in that group that wouldn't have minded seeing him dead. The X-men were vastly different too. In that group I was accepted, respected and loved. Even Logan gave me grudging respect. It must have grated on Remy to have no one who completely trusted him. Even the X-men had held him at arm's length. In a way he only was accepted out of deference to Ororo. That must have galled.

After a while had passed he grew thoughtful, the questions ceased and I had nothing much left to tell. We all became quiet then, lost in our own musings. I think Alex was asleep.

"It must have been nice." Remy suddenly said softly.

Startled, I asked, "What?"

"It must have been nice to 'ave grown up wit' a brot'er. To 'ave had a family...even for a short time."

"Yeah." I replied, not certain what else to say. A wave of sadness came over me and I wasn't sure if it was Remy's empathy at work or if I felt a genuine sadness for the little boy who had been Remy Lebeau. "Remy..." I started to say.

He interrupted me with a wave of his hand and he sat up waking my brother when he abruptly pushed his head from off his belly.

"Well, mon chers," Remy smiled cheerfully, all traces of his thoughtful self gone in a flash. My sadness still lingered. "I 'ave a meeting I must attend." He stood up. Alex and I sat up to watch him, Alex rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Stay here for as long as you like. De servants will come to pick up all dis." He gestured to the leftover food and the cooler. "Alex, remember to show Scott where de gym is." He looked at me. "Don' strain yourself, pet. Take your time. Been awhile since you worked out."

I nodded.

"Bien." His gaze went from me to Alex. "I want de bot' of you back in de room by eight. D'ccord?"

"Okay."

"Sure." I said.

Remy turned to go, but then swung back again with a slight, but lethal smile. "And keep your hands to yourselves. I ignored what happened last night. After your obedience at de party, I felt you deserved your pleasure. But from now on you only have each ot'er when I allow it. Comprendez vous?"

We both nodded in agreement, but I could feel Alex's resentment as much as mine. However, neither of us wanted to find out how he'd punish us if we argued with him. Remy looked at us both sharply and nodded to himself. "Until tonight den." He strode away without a backward glance.

Alex sat back on his elbow, plucking a long piece of grass from the earth and twirling it between his teeth. He kept his eyes on the way Remy had gone for a long time after our master had disappeared through the trees. I sat Indian style looking out at the forest behind us and wondering how far into it I could go before the collar activated. I was startled out of my analysis when my brother sat up and said, "Dammit! That's like leading a man dying of thirst to the water and telling him he can't drink! It's too much fucking temptation!" Alex didn't really sound all that angry. More amused than anything. As if it didn't really matter what Remy had said. When Remy wasn't around he'd do whatever the hell he wanted to.

I wasn't so confident. I'd had a few tastes of what the collar could do. And what Remy could do. But nevertheless I smirked and retorted, "You're not that irresistible."

"Oh no?" My brother asked. For a long moment he did nothing. I watched him out of the corner of my eye watching me. Then he got to his feet and walked passed me toward the palace. For a second I thought he was going back inside. But then he lowered himself behind me. I grinned, knowing what he was up to, but not really wanting him to stop.

Alex let one of his fingers drift slowly down my spine. He leaned into me, nipping at my earlobe. "Are you saying you can resist this?" His finger reached the end of my spine and he placed all five digits just above my rear. Then he drug them back up to my shoulders, his nails grazing the skin. "Ah." I let out as I shivered. My cock hardened immediately. "Stop it Alex."

But he was determined to prove me wrong. And I can't say I really minded. Alex licked my ear, driving his tongue into the opening. His other hand reached down between my crossed legs to lightly brush the swollen head of my penis with his fingers. "Or maybe this?" He whispered.

"Alex don't." I croaked. Despite the marvelous sensations he was causing, I was getting nervous. Paranoid perhaps. I felt as if we were being watched. I was so certain Remy would know if we coupled.

"Don't what?" Alex chuckled as he let his hand curl around my thick moistening shaft, stroking it all the way to the root. Suddenly an image of another hand came to mind. A hand raising a whip. I heard the swoosh in the air and felt fire on my back.

"Alex, cut it out!" Knocking his hand away before he could work me up any further, I said, "I don't want to feel the whip again."

As if he had doused his hand in a bucket of ice water, Alex immediately pulled it away and sat up straight. I kept my eyes focused on the forest, not wanting to see the horror, or the pity in his eyes. I had never intended to tell him about the lashing, but the words had come out without warning. If it was intentional, I didn't know.

"Jesus! Scott!" Alex's voice was tight and stunned. His fingers touched my back gently, not to arouse, but to examine. Looking closely he could see the faint traces of the lash marks, the red welts all but faded. Only visible to close inspection. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it doesn't matter." I spoke with a flash of irritation. "I provoked him and he...corrected me."

"With a whip?!" Alex exploded. "Corrected you?! How the hell can you say that?! You're not a child, Scott! And you're not a slave!"

I turned to look at him then and said icily, "This collar says differently, Alex. And the way I respond to him...like some cheap whore. If I'm not a slave, then what am I?"

When Alex didn't respond to that I stood up clenching my fists. I looked down at him. His head was bowed and one forearm rested on a bent knee. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's over and done with. I said I was sorry and he forgave me. Just let it drop. Okay?"

After a moment he looked up to meet my gaze and nodded. Then he reached out a hand and I helped him to his feet. But as he stood, he refused to let go of my hand. Instead, he pulled me into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, Scotty." He murmured low against my neck. I felt a drop of moisture land on my upper back and roll down my skin. God how I loved him. "You're no whore. And you're no slave."

Then he released me and started walking back to the citadel.