X3: The Ace Of Spades

Disclaimer: X-Men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-Men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)

A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry for the wait (thought it’d be out a lot sooner). Hopefully this chapter will make it up to you. Lots of fluffy goodness this chapter, plenty of Romy, skiing, Lorna makes a friend, more Kitty and Piotr interaction, and plenty more. Enjoy – and thanks for the reviews last chapter!

Chapter 23: Vacation – Part Three

Remy jerked to the left, the muscles of his ankles turning his skis quickly, as another skier sped down the hill past him, swerving in front of him and just barely missing the tips of his skis.

‘Merde, ’ he cursed as he felt his right ski catch an edge at the sudden swerve. He tried to throw his body to the side to make up for the loss of balance caused by his ski getting thrown off course, but it wasn’t enough, and he landed on his back with a expelling of breath as his shirt and coat caught on the ground and snow slid up his bare back.

“Maudit, watch where you’re going, asshole!” He shouted at the skier that had cut him off, and sat up, trying to brush the icy snow out of his back, and glared when the man, already several hundred feet away, raised his right hand to flip him off.

He heard the sound of someone else coming down the hill above him, and then the skidding, ski-on-snow sound of someone braking before Rogue came to a somewhat wobbly halt next to him, using her ski poles to keep her balance as she stopped completely.

“Hey,” she said, slightly out of breath, and braced herself with one ski pole while reaching down to offer him her other hand.

He grabbed it as he crossed his skis, and she helped pull him upright.

“You alright?” She asked softly.

Remy nodded, brushing off his backside. “Yeah, Chére, some jerk cut me off, an’ I’m not dat great at skiin’ in de first place, so….” He trailed off, gesturing at where he’d fallen.

Rogue smiled. “Well Ah’ll be – somethin’ Remy LeBeau actually isn’t good at.” She said teasingly.

Remy chuckled, and shook his head. “Hey, ain’ my fault someone thought strappin’ two flat sticks to y’feet and slidin’ down a snowy hill wit’ dem was a good idea.”

They moved sideways along the hill, to stay out of the way of others coming down, and Remy raised a hand in greeting as Peg and William skied past them.

He pulled off a glove and reached up behind him, removing the last bit of the cold, melting snow from his coat, and glanced over at Rogue.

She seemed to be much more in her element in the cold weather, more than happy to layer her clothing and bundle up, hiding her skin from contact with others. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses – extras that Remy had taken along – and the only skin in sight was whatever parts of her face weren’t covered by the glasses, her cap, and the top of her coat.

They’d been skiing for hours now, William and Peg giving the two of them tips, and they’d improved as time went on, Rogue seeming to have a slightly better natural talent at it than Remy, but Remy’s ability to learn quickly balanced that out, and they were both equally average skiers.

“Should we go meet up wit’ Sarah an’ Dani?” Remy asked, slipping his glove back on.

Rogue nodded, and leaned forward to plant a feather-light kiss onto his lips. “Dani’s probably got her skiin’ better’n us already,” she said, laughing.

Dani – the best skier out of any of the group – had taken Sarah off to the smallest of the bunny slopes, the Molly Hogan trail, to give her beginner lessons.

Rogue smiled, and shifted so she was aimed downhill, and glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was coming down uphill from her. “Race ya.” She said.

“You’re on, Chére,” Remy said, getting into position himself. “On three - Three!”

“Hey, no cheating!” Rogue called as they both pushed off of their ski poles, and barreled down the hill – not exactly as fast as one could get on a black diamond trail, but fast enough for the green trail they were on now.

They remained neck-and-neck for several hundred yards until they reached a slight turn to the right. Rogue suddenly changed from the parallel turning she and Remy had been using – where the skis were kept parallel and they shifted their weight from ski to ski to turn – to a carving style: one used by more professional skiers, and she quickly pulled ahead.

“Shit,” Remy muttered to himself, trying to catch up by limiting his turns that slowed him down. She didn’t look shaky in the least anymore, and she continued to pull away around another slight curve, and she reached the bottom of the hill – where it leveled out to a gentle slope toward the base lodge – a good fifteen seconds ahead of him.

Remy slid to a stop next to her. “Damn, Rogue, you been hustlin’ me dis whole time?”

Rogue shuddered, and leaned back against his chest for a moment before looking up and grinning at him. “I let Carol take over,” she said, “she’s been skiin’ for years.”

Remy’s jaw dropped. “You little cheater,” he said admonishingly.

Rogue elbowed him lightly. “’Least I didn’ cheat on the count-off. Ain’ my fault y’don’ have a skier in y’head.”

Remy sighed exaggeratedly. “Alrigh’, you win. What d’ya want as a reward?”

Rogue looked back up at him, a smile flitting across her face. “Ah guess Ah’ll hafta settle for a kiss.”

He grinned, leaning down to brush her lips with his, just long enough to begin to feel the tingling of her powers. “C’mon, Chére,” he said, his arm around her shoulders as they slowly made their way past the base lodge toward the Molly Hogan trail.

Peg and William were already there at the base of the hill, and they made their way over to them. “You seen Dani an’ Sarah yet?” He asked.

William nodded and pointed up the hill at a pair of descending figures. “I think that’s them now. They wanted one more run before we met up.”

Soon the figures were visible enough, and Remy saw Sarah skiing down, with Dani following carefully behind. Sarah spotted them, and began to slow using the “snowplow” braking technique, a beginner’s technique, the front tips of her skis turning inward until they nearly touched one another, leaving them in a V-shape that helped to slow her down.

He could see her straining to keep her ankles turned as she neared them. She was moving slowly, but not yet at a complete stop as she reached Remy, and he bent down, grabbing her up with one arm, lifting her from the ground for a moment before turning her around and setting her next to him.

“Y’look like you’re learnin’ pretty good, petite,” he said to her.

Dani slid to a halt in front of them. “She definitely is. She’s a really fast learner.”

Sarah nodded, and grinned up at Remy. “This is really fun, Remy,” she said, her cheeks rosy from the cold air, her breath visible as she panted slightly. She’d taken to the weather as well as Rogue, liking the heavy coat she now wore with her cap and hood, because it concealed her bone-growths completely from sight.

Remy smiled. “Told ya you’d like it,” he said.

“You t’ink she’s ready for one of de bigger green circle trails?” Remy asked, looking to Dani.

Dani nodded. “If you’re feeling up to it, Sarah,” she said, glancing at her – she knew that the first few runs they’d had, Sarah had been somewhat frightened once at the top of the hill when she saw the (relatively) long way down the bunny slope.

Sarah beamed. “Yeah, I’d like to.”

“Alrigh’, petite. Let’s get some lunch, an’ den we’ll all go down one of dose hills together, hein?”

Remy shoved off with his ski poles, letting himself coast down the slight incline. “You said de restaurant up hill is good?”

Peg nodded as she and the others followed close behind him. “Yeah, we’ve tried the ones down here, but we like the one up there better.” She said.

Within minutes they’d reached the Exhibition lift – a chair lift that Remy, Rogue, Will and Peg had been using – which serviced the green circle trails Remy and Rogue had been running, as well as several blue square trails and two black diamond trails. At the top of the lift, about midway up the mountain, was a smaller lodge with its own restaurant.

Dani, William and Peg moved ahead of them in the line, and all took the same lift chair. Remy moved to one side of Sarah and Rogue to the other as they moved forward, bending their knees and sitting down on the next lift chair as it came up behind them.

In moments their feet were off the ground, and dangling in the air as the lift swiftly rose. Sarah’s gloved hand suddenly grabbed Remy’s, squeezing tightly, and he glanced down and saw her face had gone pale as they went higher and higher above the ground.

He squeezed her hand back, and leaned down lightly to kiss her forehead. She looked up at him with a weak smile.

“Don’ worry petite, you ain’ gonna fall. Jus’ look ahead, an’ don’ look down an’ it’ll feel better.” Remy said.

Rogue glanced over, surprised, not having noticed Sarah’s reaction to the height. She shifted her ski pole to her other hand, and then put an arm around Sarah’s shoulder, giving her a one-armed hug.

“Remy’s right, sweetie. And even if yah did fall, remember Ah can fly, so Ah’d just jump off an’ catch yah.” Rogue said soothingly.

Sarah visibly relaxed, and squeezed Remy’s hand again with less urgency, leaning into Rogue’s hug. Some color returned to her face and she looked straight ahead, glancing only to the side at both of them. “Thanks.” She said softly.

The lift quickly neared its end, moving back closer to the slope as they came in. Their skis touched the ground, and Remy and Rogue stood, pushing off from the lift, and each grabbed one of Sarah’s hands to help her off as well.

“Remy, are we gonna ski again tomorrow?” Sarah asked, seeming recovered from her momentary scare.

Remy nodded as they planted their poles and shoved off toward the building where Dani and her parents stood waiting. “Yeah, petite. Today an’ tomorrow. Den we’re headin’ back to Denver. Maybe we’ll go to a museum or de aquarium in de city an’ do some other stuff ‘round town before we hafta head back Sunday.”

Peg had talked Remy into cancelling his hotel reservations for the rest of the week and staying instead at their house, so they’d be closer together and not have to drive back to a hotel to go to sleep or grab something they’d forgotten.

Sarah nodded happily at his answer, and then they caught up with Dani and her parents where they stood near the entrance to the lodge their skis already off.

Remy shifted a leg, pressing down on the release of one ski with his other one, and then using his boot on the remaining release. He stacked them together and set them in the ski-rack provided for the guests, leaning his poles against it as well. He turned, bending down to help Sarah remove her own skis and set them on the rack as well.

“Alright’, let’s eat,” he said when Rogue was done removing her own skis. “I’m starved.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Dani said as they walked toward the entrance in the awkward gait most people had wearing the bulky ski boots. “Especially if you like pulled pork – theirs is really good.”

Remy grinned. “Den what’re we waiting for?” He said walking faster and grabbing the door handle ahead of the others, opening it. He gestured for them to enter.

They moved inside, Rogue taking up the rear of the line, and they pulled down their hoods as they felt the warm inside air on their faces. Remy let the door swing shut behind him, and moved forward to stand next to Rogue and put his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her hair, which was slightly damp from her exertions on the slopes and from being confined by her hat.

“You enjoyin’ y’self too, Chére?” He murmured into her ear. He thought she was, and hoped it was taking her mind off of everything that had happened during the last few weeks.

Rogue nodded, a smile on her face, and leaned back into his chest as the line to order moved forward slightly. “Yeah. Thanks for comin’ out here. It wouldn’ have been the same without you an’ Sarah here for this.”

Remy smiled. “No problem, Chére. It woulda been lonely back at de mansion without ya, an’ I’m glad Sarah’s getting a chance to have fun like dis,” he said softly.

“We all needed this,” Rogue said softly, looking at him knowingly.

***

Remy reached a hand out across the table to steal one of the fries from Rogue’s plate. She batted it away, leaning forward to curl a protective arm around the remaining few bites of her pulled-pork sandwich and fries on her plate.

“Don’t be getting’ greedy, Cajun,” she said, smiling slightly. “Yah already took a bunch from mah plate before when yah thought Ah wasn’t lookin’.”

Remy raised his eyebrows innocently. “Non, dat wasn’ me. I think you’re mistaken. Dat musta been Sarah,” he said, grinning at Sarah who sat next to him.

Sarah poked him in the side, a mock affronted look on her face. “I did not, Remy. Rogue an’ I both saw you.”

Remy dragged two of his own fries through a small puddle of ketchup on his plate, and sighed resignedly. “Well den, guess I’m losin’ my touch if y’both saw me do it,” he said, popping the fries in his mouth and chewing them quickly.

Peg shook her head, smiling at their banter, and then leaned forward from her spot next to Rogue. “So Remy, you’re from New Orleans?” She asked, continuing the general conversation that had been going on and off during the meal.

Remy nodded. “Oui. Born an’ raised dere.”

“Where abouts? My uncle lived down there and we’d always go visit him at least once a year when I was younger.”

Remy smiled. “We lived in Jefferson Parish – just a mile or two from Orleans Parish – until I was ‘bout eight or so. Den when my père got… promoted,” he said, hesitating slightly at the word, “we moved down to de French Quarter in N’awlins Proper.”

Peg nodded. “My uncle would take us down to the French Quarter all the time. I loved walking around Jackson Square. He’d always take us to eat at the restaurants in the Quarter. Is Arnaud’s still there?” She asked.

Remy shrugged slightly. “I ain’ been home for ‘bout five years now, so I dunno. Dey were dere when I was in town last, though.”

Peg nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Not like it there or….”

Remy shook his head. “Non, I loved it dere, just… dere’s some family issues now, an’…” He shrugged. “An’ I jus’ ain’ been back since den.”

Peg looked at him sympathetically. “I know how that can be.” She said, and left it at that, realizing he didn’t seem to want to go into it further.

And she did know how that could be – she thought of how her aunt on her mother’s side had pretty much been cut off from the family when she tried to embezzle money while working for Peg’s parents, and remembered the first few awkward family reunions before her aunt had ceased to attend them.

Remy glanced at her thankfully, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Sarah tugged at his arm then, and he glanced over to her, noting her half-eaten sandwich still on her plate.

“Remy, I’m not hungry anymore,” she said softly.

“You aren’t? You sure?” Remy asked.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I just don’t feel very hungry right now, but I don’t want to waste it…”

Remy smiled. “It’s fine, petite. Sometimes when y’get really active like dis, y’don’ feel hungry. Used t’happen to me all de time, but now I’m jus’ a big pig an’ I’m always hungry.” He said, winking at her.

Sarah giggled at that. “What should I do with it?” She asked, gesturing at the sandwich.

Remy reached over and grabbed the plate, sliding it in front of him. “I’ll finish it off if you’re abs’lutely sure you don’ want any more,” he said, grabbing the sandwich and raising it to his mouth, pausing for a moment for her reply.

She shook her head. “No, you can eat it, Remy.”

He nodded, and took a large bite of it, finishing it off in a mere three bites. Sarah wrinkled her nose at him as he rinsed it down with the rest of his water. “Yep, you are a big pig,” she said, grinning.

Remy rolled his eyes at her, and Dani looked over everyone’s now empty plates. “Everyone ready now? We’ve still got a good three and a half hours until the slopes close.”

Everyone nodded, and stood, taking their trash to the nearest garbage can, and filing out of the now-crowded lodge restaurant.

Remy helped Sarah pull her hat back on, careful to not tear it on her bone protrusions on her forehead, and kissed her cheek before she walked over to her skis.

“You ready, petite? Dis’s a longer hill den de last one, but it ain’ too much steeper.”

Sarah nodded, and smiled widely as she set down her skis and stepped into them, the locking mechanism snapping onto her boots as she pushed down. “Yeah, it’s not so scary anymore lookin’ down the hill now that I know how to stop myself if I wanna.” She glanced up at him as he put on his own skis. “Will you stay with me though?”

Remy grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Of course, ma mignonne. You go as fast as you wan’, an’ I’ll keep up wit’ you.”

Sarah moved forward, pointing her skis toward the trail Remy and Rogue had come down before they’d stopped for lunch. “Alright, I’m ready,” she said.

He gave her a soft push to get her started across the short area of flat snow around the lodge and toward the start of the hill, and then shoved off with his ski poles. “Okay, petite, first one down chooses de next trail.”

Sarah giggled softly as she picked up some speed, and in moments both he and Rogue were following closely behind her.

*****************************************************************

Lorna padded softly down the stairs, knowing most people would still be asleep this early in the morning, the sun just beginning to come up. She’d slid on a light jacket that Ororo had lent to her. Ororo had told her she was going to take Lorna into the nearby town to get her some clothes of her own today.

Lorna walked by the kitchen, which was empty, and she sat down and quickly ate a small bowl of cereal. Eating quickly was a skill she’d picked up with the Purifiers: each mutant was given a meager tray of slop, and they had three minutes to eat before the guards came in and took away whatever was left.

She shook her head of those thoughts as she placed the bowl and spoon in the sink, and walked towards the glass door to the outside of the mansion – the sun had risen higher, and the grounds of the mansion were highlighted by its rays.

She opened the door and stepped out, her jacket just warm enough against the chill of the morning air. She shoved her hands in her pockets, and walked aimlessly down the sidewalk in the direction of the basketball hoops.

She’d gotten perhaps an hour’s sleep last night, and when she’d looked into the mirror before she’d come downstairs, she saw her eyes were bloodshot.

Her sleep had been riddled with nightmares – each dream she was back in that cell, watching mutant after mutant be taken away and then brought back bleeding and seemingly lobotomized and lifeless. And none of them had the happy ending of Remy opening the door to her cell and telling her he was there to rescue her – they all ended with the doctor opening the cell, smiling evilly, and telling her it was her turn.

She shivered, not from the cold, and slowed slightly as she neared a bench that was already occupied. A young man sat there – he looked older than her, but not by much – and his blond hair glinted in the sunlight. He was shirtless, only wearing a pair of jeans, and he looked well-muscled, although more wiry muscle than bulky. She stared in wonder at the enormous, white-feathered wings that spread out from his back.

He glanced up at her, finally noticing her standing a dozen feet away, and raised a hand in greeting, a smile coming to his face. “Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Lorna said. “D-do you mind if I join you?” She asked, gesturing at the empty seat on the bench next to him.

He shook his head, and his wings automatically folded up on his back as she moved to sit next to him. “You’re that new girl they brought back from that Purifier’s base?” He said questioningly.

She nodded. “My name’s Lorna,” she said, extending a hand to him.

“I’m Warren,” he said, shaking her hand, “nice to meet you, Lorna.”

She smiled. “You been here at the mansion long?” She asked.

Warren shook his head. “No, almost a week. It’s pretty nice here, good place to get away from it all.”

Lorna nodded in understanding. “I like it here so far, gonna try the whole school thing here.”

She leaned back, bracing herself with her palms against the seat of the bench. “It’s so weird, hearing everything that’s gone on while I was locked up by the Purifiers. A lot has happened in six months. That anti-mutant Creed guy is running for president, Magneto rips a hole in the Golden Gate Bridge……. Jesus, my mom and I used to drive over that every day – I grew up in San Fran.” She said, shaking her head.

He smiled slightly. “I did too. It’s a lot different here out on the East Coast.”

She nodded, and glanced at him. “Definitely a bit cooler, although sometimes the fog…..” She trailed off. “Speaking of San Francisco, there’s this whole Cure thing….” She said, trailing off when she saw him tense up at the mention of the Cure.

“It just…. It feels like a dream, all of this. It feels like I’m gonna wake up any second and find myself still in that cell.” She said softly.

Warren looked over at her at that, and patted her arm with his hand. “You could always try pinching yourself,” he said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Lorna laughed, and held out her arm, pinching it. “Well, that definitely hurt, so I guess it must not be a dream.” She said, smiling.

“So… you’re staying here… not going back home to San Francisco?”

Her gaze dropped, and her hands fidgeted on her lap. “No,” she said quietly. “The Purifiers… I don’t have anything or anyone to go back to now.”

Warren swallowed heavily at what she was hinting at. As much as he… disagreed with his father, especially now, he couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he was killed. “I’m sorry,” Warren said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a hesitant squeeze.

She glanced up, and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said, as he pulled his hand back. “Sometimes I start to think I’m getting over it – it’s been a while since it happened – and then it all comes rushing back as painful as when it first happened.”

Warren nodded, and remained silent, not wanting to delve into the subject further and make her feel worse. They sat in silence for nearly a minute before Warren’s right wing twitched slightly near her head when a fly landed on him, and she glanced over at it, now much closer than she’d seen it earlier. It was covered with downy feathers that looked no different than those of a bird.

“Can you fly with those?” She asked, nodding toward the wing, seemingly trying to shake off the previous topic and its affects on her.

Warren nodded. “Yeah. Right now I need a running start, and I need to jump from at least ten feet above the ground to get going decently, but I’m working on taking off while I’m standing on the ground. Professor Xavier said it has to do with my muscles in my wings. Always kept them tucked away, hidden from my dad, so they’re not as strong as they could be.”

“Your dad not like mutants?” Lorna asked curiously, tucking a strand of her long green hair back behind her ear when it drifted in front of her face.

Warren laughed softly – bitterly – and shook his head. “Not one bit.” He sighed. “When he found out I was a mutant, he… well, he freaked, and the last ten years or so, he’s thrown all of his money into trying to change the fact that I’m a mutant. I think most everyone here has figured it out, and you’ll probably hear it soon enough so I might as well tell you – I’m Warren Worthington III. My dad’s the one that made the Cure.”

Lorna’s eyes widened and she looked at him sympathetically. “Ouch. That definitely explains why you’re here.”

Warren smiled wryly, and nodded. “Pretty much. I… I actually almost took it. I’ve tried for so long to be the son he wanted, the human son he wanted, hid my mutation from everyone for him… I was right there, the needle almost in my arm, and I just…. I just couldn’t. I can’t get rid of something that’s such a part of me like that – can’t give up this,” he said, his wings flexing out slightly on his back.

His right wing accidentally nudged her side, and she reflexively reached out and brushed it with the tips of her fingers. The feathers not only looked like those of a bird, they were soft like them, almost like goose down.

His wing twitched at her touch and she jerked her hand back as if scalded, her cheeks turning red. “I-I’m so sorry, Warren. I was just wondering how they felt and I wasn’t thinking, and… I should have asked you, I-“

He broke off her stammering apology with an amused smile. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” He said, shrugging.

She glanced to the side - still blushing - her hands firmly in her lap, and nodded slightly, not convinced, and still slightly mortified at what she’d done.

Warren reached out and patted her arm gently. “Really, it’s fine. It’s no different to me than me touching your arm like this,” he said.

She nodded mutely. “I…. okay.” She finally said, glad that he hadn’t cared.

He smiled and flexed his wings again, this time taking care to not bump into her, and he marveled at the feeling of being free. He’d spent eleven years with his wings confined, pinned to his back with harnesses all day. The only time they’d been free was at night when he removed the harnesses his father had gotten custom made – ‘All in secret, of course. Wouldn’t want the public finding out his son’s a mutant.’ Warren thought bitterly.

And now, since he’d come to Xavier’s, he hadn’t put those harnesses on for even a moment. While he’d been free at nighttime, each night ended far too quickly and then it was back into the harnesses. Now he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to wear them again.

“I think I’m going to go flying for a little bit,” he said suddenly, surprising even himself.

Lorna looked over, and nodded. “O-okay,” she said, “have fun.” She hoped he wasn’t just trying to get away from her now, despite his reassurances that he wasn’t bothered.

Warren smiled warmly, and reached out a hand, shaking hers. “It was nice meeting you, Lorna. Thanks for… letting me vent and all that.”

Lorna smiled as he stood from his seat. “No problem. We all need to let it out sometimes – otherwise we’d probably just go nuts. I –“ She hesitated. “See you around.”

Warren released her hand and turned, his wings folding carefully on his back, and he walked off toward the mansion.

Minutes later, as Lorna still sat on the bench, drinking in the warmth of the morning sun, she saw a blur of movement from the mansion, and turned her head. She looked just in time to see Warren leaping from the balcony of his room on the third floor, wings spread wide. He dropped for several moments, and then his wings caught the air, flapping and pulling him up and in moments he was soaring above the roof of the mansion.

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and a slight smile crept onto her face. It seemed that even if she didn’t have a shot with Remy – and she knew she didn’t: she’d seen the devotion in his eyes when he’d talked about the girl, Rogue, who he was with and knew she wouldn’t stand a chance if she tried to compete – there was at least one other person around this place that gave her the same feeling of a spark – like a tingle down her spine – that Remy did.

*****************************************************************

Logan hesitated outside of the door to Jean’s room. It was late in the morning, and he’d still not seen her up, and she was typically an early riser. While she’d been secluding herself quite a bit since they’d found her, she still came down early for breakfast before everyone else woke up, and if he didn’t run into her then, he at least could smell that she’d been there – something he hadn’t this morning.

Xavier had told him that this isolation was to be expected, what with Scott gone, and her recent breakdown of her mental barriers against the subconscious entity in her brain, the Phoenix, but Logan was still worried at the lengths she’d gone to draw away from everyone else. She was afraid she’d lose control and hurt them, or worse, like she believed she did Scott.

He raised a hand to knock on the door when he heard Jean cry out something, as if in pain or anguish, and heard several objects inside clank around.

Logan turned the knob and threw the door open, and was stopped short by the sight before him. Jean was floating nearly a foot above her bed – tossing and turning like she was having a nightmare – and every object in the room not bolted down was floating as well, rotating slowly clockwise around the room, bumping into the objects near them.

He moved forward quickly, dodging a dresser, and cursing silently when a lamp thumped him in the head, and then he was at Jean’s side. He grabbed her hand, reaching up to touch her forehead. “Jean… Jean, wake up.”

The objects started swirling faster, and he reached down with his hand to grip he shoulder and shake her. “Jean, wake up!”

She shuddered visibly, and a hoarse cry of “Scott!” tore from her throat before she dropped from the air, onto the bed – the name on her lips making a pang of irrational jealousy in Logan’s heart. The sound of all the objects in the room crashing down – vases and lamps breaking as well as the television – left a ringing in Logan’s sensitive ears for several moments, and he was sure that if anyone had still been sleeping this late, they no longer were.

Jean’s eyes blinked open at the crash, and Logan swallowed when he saw a faint hint of an orange glow in them that seemed to originate from behind her eyes and project outward.

“Jean,” he said slowly, “That still you? Are y’alright?”

She sat up and he started to speak again, but she reached up and pressed her hand over his mouth as she closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

After several moments she shuddered visibly, her breathing rate increasing even more. Finally she opened her eyes, and dropped her hand weakly from Logan’s mouth, resting it on his chest as she slumped back.

“Jean…” Logan said softly.

She shook her head. “It’s alright, Logan,” she said hoarsely. “She’s back under. She tries that every other night.”

Logan looked down at her, a concerned expression on his face. “What was she doin’?”

“She tries to get me really involved in my dreams – make them bad or personal or very realistic, and then tries to trap me there to give her time to break out and take over.” She said, and shivered.

“Shit, Jean.” Logan said, his free hand moving to stroke up and down her bare arm from the sleeve of the t-shirt she’d worn to bed, down to her fingers. “This happens that often? Have y’told Chuck?”

Jean nodded, and sighed weakly. “Yeah, he knows. We’ve been working on it – the human mind is always at its most vulnerable when it is asleep, and mine’s even worse because she’s right in here all the time,” Jean said tapping her forehead with a finger.

She glanced around the room in dismay when the mess caught her eye. “It’s been getting better, I’ve been building up my walls each day and her attacks haven’t been as often, but she must have been conserving her energy for this attempt – never been that bad before,” she said, nodding toward the objects around the room.

Logan nodded, and reached his hand up to stroke a strand of hair out of her face. “I came up to see if you wanted any breakfast, but now maybe we should go see Chuck.” He said.

Jean nodded, and shifted off of his chest, and stood with momentarily wobbly legs. She walked carefully across the floor, avoiding a broken vase, and opened the drawer of one of the dressers. She pulled out a pair of pants from the dresser, and slid them on over the boxer’s she’d worn for bottoms during the night.

“He does need to know, if he didn’t already feel it,” she said softly as she followed Logan out of the room.

“You want me t’come with?” Logan asked softly.

Jean shook her head and gave him a small smile. “No, that’s alright. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Logan nodded in understanding. “Okay, come to the kitchen when you two are done and I’ll make something for you to eat.”

Jean smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Logan.”

He nodded as they exited the elevator and she continued down the hall in the direction of Xavier’s office. He turned, walking past the family room on his way to the kitchen.

He heard Ororo’s laughter from the open door of the room, and he glanced in for a moment, feeling a momentary pang of… jealousy, he decided was the best description… when he saw her sitting next to Kurt on the couch, laughing heavily at something he’d said – Logan had noticed her and Kurt seem to become much closer friends over the last few days since he’d returned.

‘Like you have any right to feel that way, ’ he could almost hear his conscience say. Who knows how Ororo might be feeling ever since Jean came back and he’d spent so much time with her. ‘If she felt about me how I feel about her, ’ he thought as he moved down the hall and into the kitchen, grabbing a frying pan and placing it on a burner.

He sighed as he cracked open several eggs – he had no clue what to do, no idea what was the right thing to do. He realized he loved them both, and that made any choice that much harder.

Ororo was the obvious choice, the safe choice, the uncomplicated choice. No weird love triangles in the past, nothing out of the ordinary.

Jean was the not-so-safe, much more complicated choice. There was Scott, and the whole mess attached to that issue: the fact that she’d chosen Scott over him already, the fact that Scott may or may not be dead. Then there was the whole Phoenix/mind split she was dealing with, which was “not-so-safe” in its own right, especially if Jean lost control like she’d nearly done mere minutes ago.

Logan was used to taking the not-so-safe choice all the time in his life, and sometimes it turned out perfectly and better than he could even hope for. And yet many other times it turned out badly, often hurting those involved in some way, turning out worse than he could have imagined.

He wished he could know which outcome taking that choice would end up with in this case, and if perhaps he should try to stop making those choices and be safe – uncomplicated by something that seemed like it was pulled from a soap opera. Even if he didn’t choose her, he knew Jean would be close to him for the rest of their lives, and he’d always care for her in some manner.

He closed his eyes, leaning his palms against the countertop, and stood there, his mind in more turmoil than he could ever remember, as he waited for the eggs to finish cooking and for Jean to come back, hopefully without Xavier being concerned about what had happened.

*****************************************************************

Rogue groaned and tossed her sheets down to the foot of the bed as she glanced at her alarm clock for the fifth time in thirty minutes. She’d woken in the middle of the night and had been unsuccessful at getting back to sleep. Rogue sat up in the bed, her eyes moving aimlessly around the guest room at Dani’s house.

They’d skied another full day at A-Basin, and driven back to Dani’s home just hours ago. They’d all gone to sleep, exhausted by the day’s activities, but she’d woken for some reason she wasn’t sure of, and was now left unable to fall asleep again.

She sighed, and turned until her feet touched the floor, pushing herself up off of the bed. She slid her gloves on automatically, covering her hands to block anything like that. She also wore a light grey shirt, and a pair of pants, which covered most the rest of her body, something she’d become used to doing at the mansion just in case she accidentally ran into someone.

She padded across the room, her white socks dulling the noise as she moved. Her lips were dry and her throat was parched, the dry mountain air being not what she was used to coming originally form the very humid south and then moderately humid (compared to Colorado) New York.

She opened her door quietly, trying not to make noise and wake anyone else up, and moved down the stairs, intending to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

She quietly moved around the corner to the kitchen, hearing a rustling of the sheets on the pull-out bed Remy and Sarah were sleeping on in the living room. She continued into the kitchen and gulped down a glass of cold water from the faucet. She stood there for a moment and then poured another glass, and just sipped at it, intending to bring it upstairs with her.

She paused at the stairs when she heard the sheets move again and the metal frame of the pull-out make a squeak. She moved across the family room toward their bed, a smile coming to her face when she saw Remy laying on his side, an arm curled protectively around Sarah, whose head was resting on his chest.

Remy turned to the side in his sleep, obviously the source of the previous noises, and his breathing increased. He mumbled something, and she saw his fists clench, obviously in the middle of a bad dream.

She set her glass of water on the coffee table that had been shifted to the side so the bed could be pulled out of the couch, and she gingerly sat on the edge of the bed.

She leaned forward, a hushed “shhh” coming automatically from her lips, and she reached out, her gloved fingers brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead. She let her hand move back and forth across his forehead, and leaned further forward to press a brief, soft kiss to his cheek.

In mere moments his breathing slowed noticeably, and his tensed body relaxed, his head leaning unconsciously into her touch. Rogue smiled, and stayed there, continuing to stroke his forehead – she loved watching him sleep, the few times she’d had the opportunity to do so.

While he always seemed open around her and Sarah and Ororo, more open than around most others, he always had some sort of wall up around his mind and his emotions – something she figured was the result of how he’d been brought up as a thief. But when he was asleep, even that disappeared and he completely let down that last guard.

Her hand slipped down to stroke his cheek, and she felt a pang at not being able to do this without these gloves – at least not without worrying about breaking contact in a minute so she didn’t kill him.

‘And he doesn’t care if that’s all we can ever have,’ she thought with a sense of wonder, a single tear slipping down her cheek. It was something that was hard for her to grasp, that someone cared for her enough to be with her, even with the possibility that she never got control of her powers.

It hadn’t been like that with Bobby – he’d always been convinced that she’d get control just around the corner, and as time went by and she didn’t, things had strained and then broke.

But Remy knew that it might take even years if she ever completely controlled them at all, and he simply didn’t care. She felt a flush of embarrassment course through her when that thought led to remembering how she’d been jealous when Remy had talked about Lorna – she couldn’t believe she’d been so jealous and scared that he’d leave her.

But that jealousness had fully opened her eyes to their relationship, and how deeply and quickly it was developing, as well as the true depth of her feelings for Remy.

With Cody, it had been attraction built on a previous friendship. With Bobby, she decided, it had been attraction along with desperation, reaching out to anyone that would accept her mutation the slightest bit.

But with Remy, it was much more. It was more than she’d ever felt for someone, and it felt like her heart was exploding with happiness whenever she even thought of him. And the loneliness of the few days in Colorado away from him had been awful.

She’d never really loved anyone aside from Logan – but that was in a different manner, an affectionate, almost father-daughter love – but she couldn’t think of anything else to describe how she’d come to feel for Remy.

Rogue felt her eyes droop as sleep finally crept up on her, and she started to stand to go back to her bed, but then instead shifted from her seat on the pull-out, and laid next to Remy’s warm body, tugging the sheet until it covered her as well.

She turned on her side, pressed up against his back, and in moments her arm joined him just below his own arm in curling around Sarah. Her slowly fading thoughts drifted to how much fun tomorrow would be – she’d be combining two of her favorite things: spending time with Remy and Sarah (as well as Dani and her parents), and spending a day horse-riding.

Her eyes slipped shut, and she rested her forehead on his back, and she murmured her feelings softly – “Love yah, Remy.”

Perhaps, she thought as she slipped to sleep, perhaps she would work up the courage in the next few weeks to say it to him when he wasn’t in a dead sleep.

As Rogue’s breathing evened out, she missed the large smile that curved across Sarah’s face – she hadn’t realized Sarah had awakened when Remy first started moving, and probably would never had said it aloud if she’d known.

Sarah knew for certain Remy felt the same way about Rogue, and sometimes she just wanted to whack them over their heads so they could get over their hesitancy and just tell each other how they truly felt, especially when even she – someone young enough that most people still dismissed her as simply a ‘little kid’ – could see how they felt and acted.

She’d said as much to Ororo before they’d left, and Ororo had laughed heartily at that, saying she sometimes felt the same way, only she’d use lightning bolts. She then told Sarah she had to be patient as much as she didn’t want to be, and let them go about it their own way, especially after everything Rogue had been through with her mutation and with Bobby, and Sarah had reluctantly promised she’d leave it be.

Sarah sighed contentedly, and wriggled closer against Remy’s chest and into Remy’s and Rogue’s arms. This, she thought, is how I wish we could sleep every night.

*****************************************************************

“Come to bring me good news?” Graydon Creed asked as Ron Maldrone entered the hotel room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Ron glanced around the room, and Graydon nodded to him, indicating it was safe to talk. “A little good and a little bad, I’m afraid,” Ron said, taking a seat in front of Creed.

Creed sighed. “Let’s hear the good first.”

“I just got the most recent polling numbers – mutant distrust is now fifty-five percent – highest yet. Magneto’s attack really shook a lot of people, and Friends of Humanity and the others are doing as you said, increasing their message, and it looks like it’s really working. Right now, just on the mutant issue, you have a huge base for the election. I take it you saw the ‘attacks’ last night as well?”

Creed nodded, a small smile on his face. Last night, several government buildings and police stations in Pittsburgh had been attacked by a mysterious group of people, destroying buildings and cars with blasts of energy that seemed to emerge from their hands and chests. People were blaming it on a gang of mutants. “Our Purifiers, I presume?” Creed asked.

Ron grinned. “Indeed. They’re planning another one in Kansas City in a few days. Those energy suits that we… *ahem* ‘acquired’ from that secret S.H.I.E.L.D. weapons shipment seem to have them eager for more, and the fact that it makes it look like mutants doing all this only makes it better for them.”

“Any word from Montana?”

Ron shook his head. “Not much. It’ll take some time before what they are working on is even feasible, like I said when I got back, but when it’s ready… I think it may be just in time to use and cinch us the Presidency. Apparently they found some more of Stryker’s files from years back, and let me just say, he was up to some interesting things…….”

Creed nodded – he’d met the man several times, but not really gotten to know him. Now in a way he wished he had, apart from the possible political consequences he’d be facing now after Stryker’s operation had been shut down.

Creed then sighed. “And the bad news?”

“I just heard from our friend in that DoD Artificial Intelligence project. Apparently he had been… exaggerating a bit about the first test today. While he’d given us the impression it would be a fully operational ‘proving’ test, apparently it was only semi-operational, just enough to test out the AI and look for bugs. They apparently found a few and it could be two weeks or more before we even get to the first proving test. After that they start trying out group exercises once they work out any bugs revealed in that test, and I think that’s when we’ll have him activate his Trojan programming for us.”

Creed shook his head, and sighed in frustration. “Damn, I was hoping to see it a lot sooner than that. Well, hopefully it will be before the Democrats chose their candidate.”

Ron nodded. “I’m sure it will.”

Ron reached into his briefcase and pulled out some papers. “Now, we have to go over what you need to say tomorrow at the next press conference. We need to keep these up each week, or else the press will forget about us while the Democrats keep fighting, and we can’t have that. Now… What do you think about this?” Ron asked, handing him the speech that had been prepared.

*****************************************************************

Piotr knocked again on Kitty’s door, louder than his first rather soft knock, and this time there was a response from inside. It was Saturday night, the two of them just recently returned from Chicago, and Piotr was worried.

They’d had a great time at the Chicago Art Institute, and Piotr had enjoyed meeting Kitty’s mother, Theresa Pryde – her father, as Kitty had predicted, had been unable to come with them – Theresa was just as friendly as Kitty herself.

Today, after Piotr had said his goodbyes to his parents and his sister and promised to take a day off to fly out for her graduation, Piotr’s father had dropped him off at the airport. Kitty was on the same flight back, just as they’d had the same flight there, and Piotr looked forward to spending the extra time with her.

But she’d only arrived ten minutes before the flight boarded, and aside from a quiet hello and a few niceties during the flight, she’d been completely silent, staring at the same page in one of the on-flight magazines or simply at the tray-table on the seat in front of her.

The trip home in the taxi had been even more awkwardly silent, and led Piotr to wonder what had happened to affect her like this. He wasn’t sure if he’d unknowingly done something wrong and she was giving him the silent treatment because of it until he apologized, or if it was something else.

He’d spent the cab ride back and nearly a half an hour working up his courage as her: to find out what it was – hoping he hadn’t done something to hurt her. He’d been wracking his mind, replaying the previous day’s events, trying to think of something, but he kept coming up blank. Only talking to her would end this, he’d decided.

He heard Kitty’s muffled voice inside the room answer the knock. “Bobby, I’m really not feeling like doing anything right now. Please… can we just talk tomorrow?”

He closed his eyes briefly at the mention of Bobby, who’d not been there when they arrived. “Kitty, it’s Piotr,” he said.

There was a pause and a sound of rustling sheets, and what sounded to him like a nose being blown. “Oh, sorry, Pete. I don’t feel up to much right now.”

“I… I just really need to talk to you. Please,” Piotr said, resting his forehead on the door.

There was another, much longer pause, and another rustling of sheets, and for a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. “O-okay, you can come in, Pete.”

He opened the door, and stepped into her room – it was a neatly kept room, with posters of various rock bands covering the walls, science fiction books occupying much of her shelves that weren’t already occupied by programming language and computer science books.

Kitty was sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, facing the balcony of her room, the sheets on her bed messed up as if she’d been laying down.

“Kitty,” he said hesitantly, moving closer to her.

“Hey Pete, what’s up?” She asked quietly, her throat sounding slightly hoarse.

She turned her face to look at him, and his stomach dropped.

Oh. Tears. Big tears. On her face, running down her cheeks. He’d been hoping he’d not done anything to anger her, and thought that she’d simply been mad at him, but this was even worse. She’d been crying – since they’d come home, from the looks of it, and as she looked at him another tear trailed down her cheek, dripping off onto her lap.

Tears, Girls, and Piotr didn’t go well together – other than his sister, he became even more awkward when tears entered the equation, especially when it was a girl he liked.

“K-Kitty,” he stammered, “I – I’m sorry. If I did something that hurt you or made you cry, I’m really sorry – I don’t know what it was, but I’ll make it up to you: just tell me what it-“

His rambling apology was interrupted by a wet giggle from Kitty. “P-Pete,” she said, trying to keep from laughing. “Thank you for trying to apologize, it means a lot to me, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Piotr blinked. “I… I didn’t?”

She sighed, and looked down, one of her hands grabbing a Kleenex and wiping her nose with it. “No, you didn’t. I guess I must’ve really been a bitch to you on the way back to make you think that. I didn’t mean to give you the cold shoulder.”

Piotr smiled slightly, mentally sighing in relief. “N-no, you just… seemed distant, and I thought you were giving me the silent treatment, and then I saw you crying…” He trailed off, and frowned. “If it’s not me, then what’s got you so sad?”

She blinked away a tear for a moment, and then gave up, letting it fall. “It’s……..” She began, and then stopped, swallowing heavily.

“If you don’t want to talk about it-“ Piotr began.

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. It’ll probably feel better if I talk to someone.” She raised the Kleenex and blew her nose.

“All last week when I was at home, something felt… off. Something was just weird the way my parents were acting. I thought it was just because I haven’t been there since Thanksgiving time…”

She trailed off, and then began again. “Last night, after we went to the Art Institute with you, my dad came home, and then he and my mom started arguing, shouting. I-I’ve never seen them like that before, and they didn’t even seem to remember I was there until I tried to break it up.”

She cleared her throat, her voice now trembling. “They sat me down after that, and… they told me they’re getting a divorce,” she said, her face crumpling. “Daddy’s been seeing someone else for two months now, and he’s been living with her for a while. He only came back home to be there when I got back while they decided how to tell me. I guess they started the legal stuff back in December, and it’s almost all done.”

She sobbed one, and looked up at Piotr. “Why didn’t they tell me? How could they be getting divorced? I thought they loved each other…” She trailed off, sniffling.

“I – Kitty, I’m so sorry,” Piotr said, moving to sit on the bed next to her.

He reached out to put an arm around her shoulder, and nearly lost his balance when it passed through her. “Kitty,” he said, concern in his voice. “You’re phased out….”

She frowned, and then looked up to him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing that. I guess I just feel….. safer. Nothing can touch me.”

“Could… could you unphase?” Piotr asked softly.

She sighed. “I –okay. It’s probably not very good for me anyway.”

She reached out and patted his arm with her hand. “I’m back.” She said softly.

Piotr hesitantly put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He said.

Kitty’s shoulder’s hitched, and she turned her head into his shoulder, and in moments he felt warm tears on the fabric of his shirt.

“They should have told you…” Piotr said. “Maybe they didn’t want to worry you or upset you when they decided it, but they should have told you, not hid it from you like that.”

She nodded into his shoulder. “I- I know,” she mumbled. “That only made it hurt more. I’ve.. been thinking about everything now, trying to figure out where it all started, why I didn’t notice something was different.”

“Kitty,” he said softly, you were in a different state. How could you know?”

Kitty laughed bitterly. “You’re right, I’m just beating myself up over this, wondering if the only reason they stayed together was because they were raising me…”

She leaned against his shoulder silently for several minutes, and then glanced up slightly until her eyes could meet his. “Thanks, Pete. It’s a bit better now that I talked to someone. And… sorry for being such a bore on the way back.”

Piotr smiled back and shook his head. “It’s fine. I was just worried. With good cause, it seems,” he said sadly. “If there’s anything you need – anything – let me know. Even if it’s just someone to talk to.”

Kitty nodded, and rested her face against his shoulder. “That’s really sweet of you, Pete,” she said, her position leaving her oblivious to the blush that blossomed on his cheeks.

“Right now, I just want a shoulder to cry on. If you don’t mind a wet shirt,” she said, a smile in her voice.

He shook his head, and shifted so she could lean more comfortably against him. “I don’t mind.” He said, smiling down at the top of her head.

Even if this was all he ever was – a friend whose shoulder she cried on – it would be enough.

A/N: Well, hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. I’d planned on getting it out on time, but my sister surprised me with a visit, and I didn’t get around to finishing up before we left for Florida (stayed at my grandmother’s and didn’t have internet access there). So, instead, I expanded the chapter, added a number of scenes for you guys – originally it was going to be a short wrap-up but I fleshed it out a lot over vacation, lying on the beach :p.

Anyway, hope you liked it (awkward Piotr is one of my favorite things ever :) ), sorry I didn’t have time to reply to your reviews, I’ll try to once I hit the submit button on this chapter. Next chap will be the return of the others to the mansion, Leech will get his first taste of the mansion, and hopefully plenty more Romy+Sarah.

On a side note, I watched the movie “2012” over my break with my family, and saw the cutest little actress, playing the daughter in the movie. Her name is Morgan Lily, and I was shocked because she was pretty much the spitting image of what I think of when I’m writing Sarah (even about the right age). So, if you’d like to see what Sarah in my story looks like, look her up – though you have to imagine pinkish hair and a few bony growths on her forehead and arms, LOL :D.