Exercise

Author's Note: Hey! Remember me?

Sadly, Ayla and I have something in common. I was recently terminated from my job. I've been busy, what with job hunting and all, so I haven't posted much up. However, things are rolling and I know where this story's going now. It won't be too long for the R/R smut we've all been waiting for.

But it's going to take until "Sunday" arrives in the story. And that isn't yet. Till then, please enjoy!

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Rogue panted as she closed her bedroom door, ready to scream because of Remy. The past night had nearly killed her. Even his voice alone could drive her to distraction. Oh, sure, for the past few days she’d been able to laugh things off. Well, mostly. There were a few things that stuck with her, like his note during their morning briefing on Wednesday about how he’d like to take her down to the old blue couch in the den and bend her over the side and slide into her. Some very hot dreams. That time in the bathroom. And, of course, those wonderful pictures.

She wanted to frame the full size poster of him. She wasn't sure where to put it, but …

She shook it off. She had to concentrate on something other than him. It wasn’t easy, though.

She already was finding it hard to concentrate on work and classes. The men in general seemed far more … attractive than they usually were. While she knew in her mind and heart that she didn’t want to be with anyone but Remy, there were a few men here that she kept staring at, men she’d already been attracted to before he came. She found herself idly staring at Logan’s butt during Danger Room practices, checking out Jamie’s crotch in the hall, and even having to leave Piotr’s weight training session because she was paying more attention to his muscles than the weights.

Of course, Rogue had to laugh about the things she’d put Remy through, too. When they had dishwashing duty earlier tonight, for example, Kitty's old thin white T-shirt just happened to get wet by accident on purpose, and it just happened that it wasn't very strong and split apart whie wae watched, hungry eyes alight with desire. She hadn’t planned to slip on the suds on the floor, either, but ending up spread-eagled on her butt was as good as if she’d planned it from the lusty look on his face and the large tent in his pants.

The date afterward, though, made her unsure she could take any more for this week, much less for the three they’d agreed on. He'd taken her to one of their favorite haunts, a restaurant with live jazz on Friday nights. He'd taken her up to dance while his voice whispered in her ears, his hands dancing close enough to her body that she could feel his body heat. She was ready to collapse. The problem was that while she wanted it all to end, wanted to bury him inside her body, she wanted to have him at her mercy.

She wanted to win.

Her mind flickered over possibilities as she sat on her bed, then seized on one. She rose, purpose in her eyes, and strode out of her room swiftly.

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"Are you certain this will work?" Forge looked at Rogue blandly.

"It has to. It will."

"And you are also certain you can get him out of the way all day tomorrow."

Rogue smiled. "I have a friend who kinda owes me. Yeah. I can make sure he's not here."

Forge nodded. "I will help you, then."

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Hank McCoy, working late in his lab, heard a knock at his door and called, cheerily, "Come in, come in!" He did not take his attention from the test tubes in front of him, but sniffed the air and added, "What is it that you require, Rogue?"

She stopped moving. "You did it before. You're going to do it again."

He cocked his head. "I believe you are being far too cryptic. If you could be more precise, I would appreciate it."

She walked up behind him. "You're going to change Remy's duty assignment for tomorrow to something that'll keep him out of town till Sunday morning."

He did turn to give her an innocent, almost overly innocent, stare. "I? What makes you think I am capable of such a …"

She interrupted him. "Hank, everybody knows you and Bobby usually pull your little pranks together. When he downed the dishwasher, you put Remy and me together for dishwashing. Now it's time to pay for it."

His big blue eyes remained on hers, unwavering, though his face became still and wary. "Should I grant your request, what will be the likely result?"

She grinned. "According to Kitty, I'll be making two X-men very, very happy. Other than me and Remy."

Hank was obviously a little embarrassed, but he bowed his head. "I shall make all proper arrangements. Is there anything else you require?"

"Nope, that's about it." She left the room, taking her tangy scent of desire with her, and Hank put his head in his large hands for a few minutes before pulling out his laptop and hacking into the Professor's computer again.

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Remy was awakened from a very enticing and explicit dream involving Rogue, whipped cream, and the scent of sandalwood by a loud knock on his bedroom door. "Come, Gambit. We have work to do."

He groaned. Waking up early on a Saturday, after a long sexy night when he sensed Rogue's resistance crumbling, to Piotr Rasputin, was about the worst way to arise that he could think of. He reluctantly pulled on some clothing and opened his door.

The tall Russian man was excited, gripping his hand as he tentatively poked his head out of his door. He had probably been up for hours and was disgustingly energetic. "We get to go to Avengers headquarters and do a technology exchange. There will be a dinner afterward ..."

He rambled on as Remy moaned, wishing the man would just let him go back to bed.