She's really too modest :) But yeah, I second all that. Plus, ask our permission for archiving, and all feedback appreciated and wanted! Love, Spirit

Summary: A romantic evening goes awry; Remy playing hard to get !?! Logan plots revenge. See the X-Men as you've never seen them before.

We don’t own any of the characters in this story, Marvel do and they won’t play nice and share. We make no money from this, it would make life easier and more fun, but we don’t so please don’t sue us. Thanks.
 
 
 

PICTURE PERFECT

Part 3
 
 

"Logan?" Remy poked his head round the door carefully, knowing that Logan was still angry and not wanting to have his head reduced to a bloody pulp. "Cher, you in here?" He pushed the door open a little wider and slipped inside. The room was quiet and calm as always. Predominately white and wood, the room was sparse save for an old couch, a bookcase, an old beaten up chest of drawers, some small tables, one bearing Logan's katanas, the other a reading lamp, and a low slung bed. It was so obviously Logan, Remy almost laughed outloud. He moved further in to the room, dropping the crushed rose petals into the wastebasket beside the door and glancing through the open doorway into the en-suite bathroom. Nothing. He walked over to the battered brown leather couch and sat down, twisting the envelope in his hand slowly round and round. He stared at it for a few minutes; trying to decide whether he should open it and nearly fearing what he might find. Finally he relented, and, slipping his little finger underneath the flap, he gently tore it open.

He pulled out the contents, it was a photograph with a piece of paper wrapped around it, and he unfolded the paper and stared at the picture, his eyes widening in realisation. It was one of the naughty photos he had allowed Logan to take when they had gone to Chicago for the weekend to watch Ottawa play a few weeks back. This one was of him draped over the hotel bed, butt naked, hair down, a huge smile on his face, with one hand supporting his head and the other wrapped around his hardening cock. He remembered what had happened after the little ‘photo shoot’ very fondly. It was one of the first times they’d fooled around, not doing anything specific, just mapping out each other’s bodies and sensitive hotspots. It was sweet, and Remy had enjoyed himself immensely. Then he frowned, this wasn’t funny, what if Rogue had found this picture first. The poor girl might have gone into a coma – or stuck the picture up on her wall, one of the two. He let the photo fall to the floor and opened up the piece of paper, Logan’s copperplate scrawl covered the centre of the page, Remy sighed and started to read.

‘Le vibrateur était une surprise, n'est-ce pas? Je vous ai bet n'ai pas connu la Rogue ai eu cela se cacher dans son tiroir de sous-vêtements. Puits selon le dicton: “le you apprennent quelque chose de nouveau chaque jour.”

Bureau de Scott. Quand vous y arrivez, suivez les pétales.’**

The message confused him, mostly written in French, one or two words had been left in English and it took him a few minutes to recognise their meaning.

His eyes widened in horror as he realised that Logan must have hidden another picture in Scott’s office. He strove to remember just how many pictures they had taken, but for the life of him he couldn’t. Jumping to his feet, he snatched the photo off the floor and shoved it and the note into his back jeans pocket. He moved swiftly across the room and yanked the door open; striding into the hall with the door slamming closed behind him. Remy stood in the middle of the hall and glanced right and left, he knew Logan was in the house, could feel the enjoyment Logan was getting from this -smug connard-, he just couldn’t pinpoint him. He started walking towards Scott’s office, but then stopped and turned sharply back - he felt like he was being watched; had felt it ever since he had entered Rogue’s room.

“Dis ain’ funny Logan! How many of dose pictures you hiding, eh?” No answer came.  Remy snarled and continued onwards. ‘An’ he wants me t’ feel sorry for de t’ings I said. I feel like sayin’ ‘em all over again.’

He stopped at Scott’s door and reached out with his empathy to check that Scott hadn’t come back while he was in Rogue’s room. He didn’t feel anyone and taking a deep breath, opened the door and entered Scott’s inner sanctum. He closed the door quietly behind him and leant against it, surveying the room. Desk, book cases, computer, files, town map, easy chair, wedding photo, photos of Scott and the Professor and the rest of the x-men, all the kinda stuff you would expect a poindexter like Scott to have. Remy was pretty certain if he looked hard enough he’d find pictures of a family pet, just to keep in with the whole family man image Scott tried so desperately to emulate. He glanced down at the floor, trying to ignore the hideous rag rug that covered most of it and sure enough there was a tiny path of delicate petals. A pale yellow in colour, they started a few feet in front of him and ended at one of the built in bookcases. He walked over to it, picking up the scattered petals and shoving them in his pocket as he went. He stared at the bookcase and sighed exasperatedly, then reached up and grabbed the first book on the top shelf and turning it on its side, shook it. Nothing. He sighed again, placing it on the floor beside him and reached up for the next book.

Half an hour later Remy threw himself down in the easy chair and briefly considered screaming. Books were piled around him and the bookcase stood empty. He covered his eyes with his arm and tried to think. He leant forward and rested his face on his hands, staring at the bookcase. ‘Dere must be somet’ing, a secret panel or a hidden safe.’  He pulled himself to his feet and stepped over the piles of books; and then he felt his foot catch on the pile and had time to yelp briefly before he hit the floor face first. His one thought as he lay there trying to get breath back was of the books now scattered around him and how he would never be able to get them back in order, Scott was the type to notice and have Bishop dust for prints; he was dead. He considered taking himself down to the holding cell and just admitting without any fuss; and then everything was forgotten as he noticed the tiny piece of yellow petal peeping out from underneath the bookcase.  He grimaced and muttered one single word: “Connard”.

Remy pulled himself to his feet once again and one by one shoved the books back onto the shelves, not caring what order they were in anymore. He ran his hand slowly down the sides of the bookcase, searching for a catch or a latch of some kind. Not finding anything he ran his fingers along the top of the frame, almost yelling in excitement and relief when he felt a button. He pressed it in and the bookcase swung open, fast enough to smack him full in the face and knock him back. He stumbled, catching his butt on the corner of the desk, righting himself; he rubbed his arse cheek and his nose, fighting the urge to cry. He grabbed the edge of the bookcase and the frame, holding the door open, as he walked cautiously into the room ahead. He let go of the door and, moving forward a little, tried to distinguish the grey shapes barely visible in the room. He yelled as the door swung shut, hitting his fingers. He pulled his hand away from the frame and the door closed with an ominous clank.

“Baise.” He brought his hand up and gently sucked on his injured fingers as he waited for his eyes to adjust fully to the darkness. The grey shapes slowly became fully visible and he almost passed out when he realised what they were.

Erected before him in the room were eleven screens and on each screen hung a rubber doll, each one dressed like a different member of the X-team.  Each one appeared to have the correct uniform, but with the crotches cut away.  Remy gulped and moved up closer to the doll nearest him.  It had been made to look like Rogue, its brown hair had been striped with white paint and it was wearing one of Rogues uniforms.  He reached out, feeling rather nauseous as he touched the rubber skin, he glanced up at the doll’s face, the mouth formed a large O, obviously meant for oral sex.  He shivered in disgust and moved on to the next.  This one was meant to be Storm, the black dolls hair had been dyed badly, traces of black still shone through and the eyes had been painted white with what appeared to be tipex.  He shook his head and moved on.  The next was the Professor, the hair on this doll had been cut as short as possible, Scott obviously hadn’t had the skill to shave it without popping it and it wasn’t the sort of thing you took into a barbers shop. Yes, my good man, would you mind terribly shaving my rubber doll.  Remy giggled nervously.  The legs seemed a little deflated, like they hadn’t been blown up properly, but Remy guessed this was intentional.  It was wearing a suit and tie and came equipped with a dildo.  Remy shivered again and headed on.  In front of him was doll made to look like Jean.  Remy raised an eyebrow and stared at the red haired thing.  Why would de homme need a doll, he got de real t’ing.  Shaking his head in puzzlement he walked to the next screen.  Facing him was what appeared to be a rubber doll wearing a gorilla suit that had been dyed bright blue.  Remy seen Henri plenty and he much better looking den dis.  He glanced down at the attached dildo, which had been painted blue to go with the suit.  Nausea was building again, so he turned away and glanced at the doll to his left.  Wearing a yellow trenchcoat, it could only be Jubes.  Remy lowered his eyes and walked straight past it, refusing to even contemplate examining it.  De homme’s sick even sicker den Magneto and he’s a sick Salop.  He looked at the next one and rolled his eyes.  The black doll had what appeared to be an old seventies afro wig stuck to it’s head and had a large M painted over one of it’s eyes in black marker.  Bishop real obedient, but for dis Remy t’ink he would kick even your arse homme.   Warren hung on the next screen and Remy couldn’t help it, he started to laugh.  The doll had one of warrens old uniforms and a pair of wings out of a child’s angel dress up kit attached to its back.  Next to him hung Betsy, in the purple thronged uniform she favoured, a red lightning bolt painted on her face and a piece of pink triangle shaped cardboard taped to the end of each hand.  After a good five minutes of near hysterical laughter, Remy wiped his eyes and moved on.
The next doll was just a blonde haired male doll, wearing Bobby’s uniforms; Remy stifled a giggle and looked at the next doll.  The laughter rose up again as he purveyed the next, wearing one of Logan’s uniforms, there were clumps of what looked like dog fur taped on the arms in an attempt to copy Logan’s hairiness, but it wasn’t this that Remy laugh, it was the three plastic picnic knives taped to each hand.  The hysterical laughter hit him and he couldn’t stop laughing, every time he glanced at the doll, he would laugh even harder.  Soon tears were running down his face and he was holding his sides trying to draw a breath, in desperation he glanced at the final doll and the laughter slowly died away to be replaced by a whimper, as discovered where his spare trenchcoat had gone.

The auburn haired doll was indeed wearing one of his uniforms and his trenchcoat, the doll’s eyes had been painted black and red and a playing card, the queen of hearts, was glued to one hand and an envelope was attached to the other with an elastic band.   Remy gagged, swallowing convulsively and fighting to relax his gag reflexes.    He slowly reached out a hand to touch it and almost screamed when he heard the unmistakable sound of the bookcase opening, he stood stock still for a few heartbeats, trying to stem the panic, he grabbed the envelope and band, before dashing silently behind the screen that his rubber double hung on.  Crouched down behind the screen, he strove to control his breathing, which suddenly seemed so loud.  He listened carefully, hearing the bookcase swinging shut and the sound of footsteps moving further into the room.

“Hello my pretties, did you miss me?”  Scott’s voice sounding incredibly loud in the silence of the room and Remy couldn’t resist the urge and peeped cautiously around the side of the screen.  Scott stood in the middle of the room, looking left and right.  He was wearing a bathrobe and what looked like tights and stilettos.  “Who’s missed me the most I wonder.”  He wandered back and forth among the screens, touching the dolls, before turning towards the one where Remy hid and his doppelganger was displayed. Remy pulled himself back behind the screen and held his breath.  “Remy.  It’s been a while.  I bet you’ve really missed me.  Need some hot loving Gambit, the kind only Scott Summers can provide.”  The sound of cloth rustling, then hitting the floor followed and then footsteps as Scott moved closer and closer.  Remy bit back a whimper and tried not to breathe.  Holy Mary, mother o’ God, you get Remy out of dis one and he promises to be a good boy.  The screen wobbled slightly as Scott took down the doll and the footsteps moved away a little.  Remy started to breathe again and pulling himself silently to his feet glanced carefully around the edge of the screen.

Scott had moved a few feet away and was holding the dolls hand in his own as he rubbed his cock with it.  He was dressed in a red balconette bra and suspender belt, what Remy had mistaken for tights were actually stockings, fishnet stockings.  “Oh yes Gambit, that’s it wank me, oh yes.  What’s that you want to taste me.  Oh yeah taste me baby.”  He pulled the sex toy around to his front and pushed his cock into the round gaping mouth.  He started to move slowly back and forth and after a few moments began moaning.  Remy gagged silently, bile filling his mouth.  Swallowing it back down, he crept silently to the next screen and then the next, heading for the door.

“Remy, stop.”  He froze, heart pounding in his chest at Scott’s words.  “You keep doing that and I’m going to cum, and I want to cum with that hard cock of yours up my arse.”  Scott laid the doll on the floor, sitting down astride it; he slid slowly down on the hard dildo, moaning he began to move up and down, stroking his cock along to the rhythm.  “That’s it fuck me Gambit.  It’s for the good of the team.”  Remy moved slowly backwards until his back hit the wall and then slid his way silently along it.  He waited when he reached the door until scoots cries became louder and more frenzied, Scott yelled as he cum, come splattering down on the dolls chest.  At that moment Remy pushed open the bookcase and swiftly exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As quickly as he could he dashed out of Scott’s office, up the stairs and down the hall to his own room.  He ran full speed into the en-suite, skidding to a stop at the toilet, he dropped to his knees and shoving his head over the pan, was violently sick.

After what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than five minutes, Remy leaned back resting his head against the cool tiles covering the wall.    He glanced at the envelope in his hand and vowed vengeance on Logan for doing this.

TBC

Translation of note:

**The vibrator was a surprise weren’t it; bet ya didn’t know Rogue had that hiding in her underwear drawer.  Well as the saying goes, “You learn something new everyday.”

Scott’s office.  When ya get there follow the petals.