The Queen of Wands

A/N: Remy deals with more new experiences and Logan loses his control. Someone is watching....erm or two someones.....

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Chapter 11

The next three weeks were spent with Remy getting to know his new body and how it moved. The dancing and subsequent self defense, had proven to them both that Remy's skill wasn't that impaired.

Training sessions with Logan, Scott and whom ever else they could enlist, had them convinced that the Cajun still had it.

A new uniform was ordered, Remy made adjustments to the trench coat. Hidden pockets and such, to hold all manner of things that could turn into charged projectiles.

They also began the process of trying to reverse the curse. Something Remy fervently hoped would work. Charles had certain magic users he trusted come to the manor. They all would try what they could to divine the original incantation. It was tedious and trying. Remy got sick of getting his hopes up only to be told, again and again, it couldn't be done this way. He had to find the gypsy who cast it.

Of the circus there was still not hide nor hair. Charles kept a look out for any ripple or whisper. He was always sorry to tell his friends there was nothing.

Remy slowly got used to being in the female body but it wasn't normal or comfortable all the time.

Then, Logan had to go on a solo mission for Charles. Remy was strangely frustrated by the fact. He knew he wasn't in danger with Logan gone but he still felt alone and exposed. The three days before Logan had left, the Cajun was oddly insatiable.

They put the box of condoms to good use before Logan left. Remy finding every chance and excuse to draw his lover into a bought of vigorous sex.

They were getting used to the new body and the things it did to both of them. Remy had decided he liked to be on top. Something that Logan indulged, for a bit, before the Wolverine would flip the thief over and rut for completion. The night before he left, they got almost no sleep. Testing to see how many orgasms Logan could give his lover.

Now alone in the big bed, Remy felt frustrated and irritable.

He marched down to the kitchen the second morning Logan was away and scowled at Jean and Hank. He grumbled about their cheery 'good mornings' and poured a cup of coffee. He sat on the stool frowning, snapping when spoken to.

He couldn't explain it if he tried. He just hated everyone. He wanted to kick Bobby for simply being alive. Jean's voice grated on his nerves. And even his beloved Stormy seemed to be a bitch this morning.

After making several rude replies to questions, Remy stomped out of the kitchen and went back to their rooms.

Throwing himself on the empty bed, he hugged Logan's pillow to his face. It was permeated with the smell that was Logan. The deep lung full of his lover's scent made the Cajun begin to inexplicably sob.

He fell asleep and had frustratingly erotic dreams about his absent lover. Waking up angry again, this time at Logan for being gone, Remy went for a walk around the grounds. Thinking a smoke or four and some quiet thoughtful time might help him shake this strange irrational anger.

When the walk didn't do anything but make his stomach ache, the Cajun slumped back into the house. He drank another cup of coffee and sulked around the rec room.

Rogue and Bobby's incessant chatter made the thief snap at them to shut up. They both looked at his with wide startled eyes. Rogue's green ones slanted and she smirked with malicious glee.

"What's wrong, Swamp Rat? PMS?" She let out a snicker at the stunned expression that crossed the empath's face.

Remy felt a cold rush over his body and he sat down, arms wrapped around his waist.

"MON DIEU!" he shouted and stomped out of the room cursing and swearing under his breath in French.

Bobby and Rogue rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing.

He marched to Jean and Scott's quarters and banged on the door.

"Jeanie, I don't care if you an' Cyke are shaggin'! I need to talk to you!" he called in a desperately strained voice.

After a moment, Jean opened the door looking concerned and surprised.

"Scott is in the Danger Room, Remy. What's wrong?" she asked, reaching out to the fidgeting Cajun. Remy pushed past her into the suite and sat on the sofa.

"Been feeling angry and snappish. And I can't explain it. Wanted to punch Bobby for breathin'. Den Rogue said someting that made me worry." The boy twisted his hands together before looking up at the concerned woman. "Jeanie, tink I've got PMS." he said in a whispered voice then clutched his arms around his waist.

Jean controled the giggle that wanted to slip out. She thought something life threatening had happened. She cleared her throat and sat next to the frightened boy.

"Rems, it's going to be ok." she assured him. "I'll show you what to do and I have some Midol. That will help with the cramps." She said and rubbed her hand down his back. Remy turned his faced into her neck and began to cry, again.

"Sorry, Jeanie, don't know why I keep ballin'." he said, hiccuping softly. Jean held the sobbing girl and comforted the scared boy inside.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Remy. You can trust me." she whispered and pushed back the copper hair. She handed Remy a tissue. The thief took it and wiped his face.

"Tanks, Jeanie." he said and gave her a watery smile. Jean shook her head and kissed him on the cheek.

"Come on, let's get this over with. I fear you might flush so much you'll pass out before we get through it." she teased making the Cajun whine and slump after her.

He was thoroughly freaked out.

He couldn't believe he had to endure this.

While Jean was teaching him a bout...Tampons....The thief had been suddenly racked with the most unusual and painful deep muscle cramps he had ever felt. It was like an intense and deep down ache that couldn't be soothed. He had been further horrified by the need to use said Tampons.

Now he was curled up in a pout on the couch in Storm's loft. She handed him a mug of herbal tea to wash down the pills Jean gave him.

"There, Padnat. That should help rather quickly." she assured tenderly. She took a seat next to the miserable Cajun and turned on a movie for them to watch. Something sweet and romantic. It ended up making the, now high, Cajun cry.

Seeing the glassy eyed mess Remy was, Storm let him sleep in her bed like old time. Grateful for the warm body and the affection, Remy slipped into a deep slumber.

The next five days were sheer hell for the empath. Between the volatile emotions and the strain on his shields, Remy had snaped, snarked or out right yelled at everyone. Including Kurt, who just happened to be standing there at the time.

By the time the boy's female body had worked through it's cycle, the whole mansion was looking forward to the end.

When Logan returned home, he was filled in on what his lover had put them all through.

He tried not to laugh, much.

He was amused by the threats of locking Logan and Remy in the boathouse next month. He knew Scott had no leg to stand on, Jean was a right cow when she was on the rag.

Making his way to the library, Logan found his lover sitting in the window seat reading.

"Hey, Baby." he said when the thief looked up. Remy dropped the book and lunged for his lover. Wrapping his arms around the feral, he hugged Logan as hard as he could.

"Dat was de worst week of my life." he muttered and refused to let Logan peel him off.

"Darlin', you sure made an impression on the rest of the house." he chuckled. Remy's head came up, auburn brows wrinkled.

"Ain't funny, Logan." he said in a dark voice. Logan sobered instantly. Remy sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry, Cher, can't help it. Still feeling bitchy." he said and took the feral's hand. They walked back to their rooms and Remy listened to the Canadian talk about the mission.

Remy related some of what he went through, there were parts he would never be able to share with anyone, it was just too weird.

Logan kept his face sympathetic and neutral. He didn't want to make the Cajun angry again by being amused.

After the fifth wave of Logan stifled amusement made it through their link, Remy pulled away and went to sulk on the bed.

Logan racked his brain and suddenly a sliver of a memory filtered up to him. Smiling softly, he told his brooding lover he would be right back.

Trotting down to the kitchen, Logan rummaged through the cupboards until he found the things he needed. Whistling to himself, he took his supplies and returned to their rooms.

Locking the door, he made his way over to the sofa and laid out his items. Logan made sure Remy's favorite martial arts film was in the player. He carefully set up a pair of shot glasses and a full bottle of whiskey.

Then the feral went to the bedroom and collected his pouting lover. Picking up the smaller body easily, he ignored Remy's protests and carried him to the sofa.

Not answering the demands to know what he was up to, Logan tucked a throw around the thief's lap and then took a seat next to his lover.

"I'm gonna help ya change yer mood, Love." he said simply and set about making a smore.

When he had the graham crackers, chocolate and marshmallows all in place, he turned to Remy and smiled wide.

"Do the honors?" he asked and nodded to the sweet in his thick fingers. Remy tried to hang on to his resentment but it wasn't happening.

Faced with his lover's thoughtfulness and desire to make him happy, Remy gave in. He gently charged the confection enough to melt the chocolate and marshmallows just right.

After they had eaten a few, Logan handed the Cajun a shot and turned on the movie. Remy snuggled against his lover's side and smiled.

Logan knew him so well, didn't matter what sex he was, the feral knew what the soul inside needed. He leaned over and gave Logan a sticky kiss and then began to build another smore.

"You are too good to me." he said and smiled honestly at his lover. Logan shook his head and kissed the chocolate smear off Remy's chin.

"Other way around, Darlin'."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The information on Remy LeBeau had been slim to none for months now. Essex tapped a pen on the reports before him.

In the past month the Cajun thief hadn't been seen at all. The X-men seemed to not take any issue with this. They were more focused on a new team member that his informant had nothing on.

Cursing to himself, he stood and crossed the room. He hoped they hadn't tried to kill the Cajun again, that would set his work back ten months while he cloned the empath.

He needed to focus. He knew Remy wasn't really dead. If the boy had died, Essex knew he would have felt it on the psi level.

Nothing that expansive had occurred. Remy had, however, suffered a great influx of energy. So maybe he was laid up in McCoy's lab.

Essex frowned and paced back to his desk. He pondered the thought and then let it go. He would have to inform his spy that more was needed.

They would have to get closer.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

A week later, Remy seemed to have settled down once more. Logan and the thief found a mostly normal place to exist in. The ate, slept, trained, went drinking, made love. Things were just a little altered in some of the activities.

The training was where the thief focused his frustration and anger. He put all the emotion into his blows, into the sparing and acrobatics. He used his despair and fear to fuel his training.

After a particularly intense session with the majority of the team, the Cajun remained in the Danger Room. Practicing with his bo.

He wanted zero hesitation with his changed grip on the weapon. After another hour, Remy felt he was doing much better with the new grasp.

He headed for the women's locker room, the team had all decided that it was best for them all if the Cajun showered with the girls. Logan really didn't want the other guys around his mate while they were all wet and naked.

Chuckling, Remy stripped out of his workout clothes and stepped into the empty showers. Turning on three heads and angling them toward his body, Remy indulged in a long shower, as hot as he could take it.

Billows of steam filled the echoing room, muffling sound and giving an other worldly atmosphere.

Scott made his way down the hall toward the locker rooms. Jean had forgotten her wedding ring when she showered after training. She was in the midst of 9th grade chemistry and asked him to fetch the ring before it got lost.

Grumbling to himself, he made his way to the women's locker room and pushed through the doors. Instantly the wall of steam alerted him that either someone had left the showers running or there was a team member bathing.

Moving silently, he hoped to grab the ring unnoticed. He tip toed across the tiled floor and made his way toward the sinks.

As he reached out and wrapped his fingers around the gold band, the smokey sound of Remy's voice filled the air. The Cajun still had that honeyed southern drawl and his female voice was just as seductive as his male.

Scott froze, rooted to the spot, as the Cajun sang an old spiritual. Beyond his own control, the team leader began to creep toward the shower room.

Standing at the threshold. he panted in the damp air and tried to will his feet to turn around. Slowly. he peeked around the corner and the shapely form of Remy came into view.

The thief was enjoying the hot water and lathered his full curves with lots of soap. Runnels of soapy water poured down the creamy skin and drew Scott's eyes lower. His mouth went dry and he felt his cock thicken with interest.

Remy turned under the spray and the peeping mutant got a full frontal view of Remy's female body. The thief had gotten the hang of shaving and found he preferred hair only on his head. The mutant leader thought he might pass out from lack of blood in his brain.

The things that flashed through his brain were dirty and erotic. He couldn't believe he was staring like this. What the hell was wrong with him?

He licked his lips and wondered idly what Remy tasted like. Images flashed in his head of the Cajun laid out beneath him, moaning like Scott had accidently overheard when passing the couple's rooms once.

His stomach tightened and he clamped his lips together as a groan tried to jump out.

He was startled out of his lascivious staring by the sound of someone pushing the doors open.

"Rems, ya in here, Baby?" Logan's voice called through the steam. Scott felt his blood run cold and he darted silently across the room. He prayed the thick steam hid his movements from the feral.

Logan walked toward the shower room a smile on his face, until he reached the door.

Stopping dead, he turned his head and sniffed. A dark looked came over his face and he moved into the shower room.

Seeing his lover jump and look at him with surprise, he realized Scott had been spying. Turning back to the locker room, he began to search. But the leader was long gone.

The Wolverine was livid and felt the pull to be territorial.

Remy turned off the water and grabbed his towel. Padding to the feral, he reached out to stroke the burly arm.

"Cher, what's wrong?" he asked feeling the anger and possessiveness over their link. The soft touch snapped the feral and he turned golden eyes to the Cajun. Remy was overwhelmed by the emotional surge and staggered back a little.

Wolverine caught the wet thief up in his arms and pulled the body close. A low guttural growl echoed in the tiled room. Remy floundered to not be caught under the intense feral emotions the Wolverine was pushing out.

He couldn't hold back the small cry that slipped out as Wolverine pressed Remy against the wall and took a savage kiss.

The threat of another alpha male around his exposed mate had sent the feral into a claiming spiral.

Remy tried to form words but Logan was sucking the air from his lungs. The feral lifted Remy up, cupping the rounded ass in a hard hold.

"Cher---Wait---what--" Remy tried to speak but every word was met with a biting kiss. There was the trill of a zipper and suddenly Wolverine was IN.

Remy cried out and tried to hang on to the big man. Spots dancing in his vision as the very large cock drove into his body.

The feral's hips snapping with hard deep thrusts. Claiming the mate as his and his alone. His thickness made the thief groan and clamp his eyes tight. He hoped his lover got control again before the finish.

Wolverine was lost in the empthic feedback that always happened when they mated. His plunging hips almost violent in their passion. Remy was hanging on, trying to breath as his body was wracked with pleasure. He gasped for air and let out a long moan when the orgasm swamped him.

Scenting his mate's climax, the feral began to thrust harder and faster. His back arching in the moist damp air and his powerful hips jostling the limp thief with each buck.

Suddenly he let out a loud barking sound and his cock cramped before spilling liquid heat deep into his mate's body. Remy blinked his eyes open bleary with afterglow, then the reality set in.

"FUCK!" he shouted and pushed at his lover's chest. "Vous fils de pute!" he swore and pushed the dazed feral away. Logan's cock slipped free and that seemed to bring him round. His face took on a look of profound guilt.

"Rems....Baby...I'm-I'm sorry...I didn't..." he stammered as the Cajun glared at him and shook his head.

"I know!" he snapped and picked up his fallen towel. "It was Wolverine. Don't mean Remy ain't still pissed off." he shouted and wrapped the towel around his female parts. "What the fuck prompted dat?" he demanded and stared daggers into his lover. Logan sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"I came looking for ya and ...I smelled Scott in here. He was standin' at the door there, not moments before I came in. The scent was strong and it was thick with lust. He was fuckin' peepin' at ya and it turned him on. I am sorry, The beast snapped. He had to reassert his claim." he said, his voice dipping to guilt again. He knew he should have had better self control.

Remy sighed and ran his fingers through his wet hair. He knew Logan didn't mean for it to happen. This was exactly what he had been telling Jean he was afraid of.

Remy was pissed off but also knew he'd probably be safe. Ro and Jean had explained in excruciating detail about fertile days and unfertile days.

"I know...I--just give me a few seconds." he said, holding out a hand and walking away from his lover.

The thief could feel the warmth slipping down his thighs and couldn't stifle the mixed emotions he felt. There was a part of him that was growing. It was a small voice that whispered "it's the only way to break the spell".

Turning the shower back on, Remy cleaned up and tried to let go his fear.

TBC...