Disclaimer:  I don’t own them, Marvel does.  But if I did I could certainly think up some interesting situations for them J

Thanks:  To anyone who reads this, your thoughts on it would be greatly appreciated and mega huge thanks to Firesong for being my beta, without whom there would be a distinct lack of punctuation and Remy would talk like a Jamaican.  I can’t write French or even attempt a French accent I freely admit it…so sue me I’m British.

Authors e-mail:  adamantiumlaced@hotmail.com

Rating:  NC17 eventually.

Summary:  I have no idea where this story is going, the plot bunnies have refused to accept my calls, I got an urge to write and here it is.  J
 

Logan sighed and inhaled deeply on his stoogie before flicking it away across the veranda fence.  He leaned further back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the floor and placing his own, ankles crossed on the rail.  He rested his beer comfortably on his stomach and settled back to watch the argument unfolding in the garden.

Gambit and Rogue were standing about 150 feet away from him, in the growing shadows cast over the garden by the woodland that surrounded most of the house and he could tell from the pained expression on the Cajun’s face and the extreme annoyance on Rogue’s, that he was again trying to convince her to give their relationship another go.

The Arcadian had been wandering around with a face like a kid who’d had his pet puppy shot ever since their resident southern belle had finally called their on again, off again relationship to a halt and taken up with collousis or Petey Pure Heart as she had affectionately nick-named him. Gag.

He couldn’t see why Gambit couldn’t just let it go, Rogue could have a more normal relationship with Pietor, relatively speaking.  At least she could touch him without draining him, even if it did mean he had to be metal at the time, which bought to mind amusing thoughts of what the pair did on chilly evenings.  When Rogue and Remy had been an item they had been unable to touch each other without a layer of clothing or a geneshian collar, which for some strange reason no one could fathom, Rogue had been completely against using…at all.  ‘Sides all they had ever done was argue, scream at each other and he knew for a fact that Rogue had beaten Remy around a bit, he had heard them and seen the bruises the Thief had tried to hide.

Logan realised he had let his mind wander and jerked back to reality just in time to witness the culmination of the row, as Rogue knocked the rose Remy held out to her from his hand and stomped off.

The look on Remy’s face actually pulled at his heartstrings, something that didn’t happen often.  The kid looked crushed, like Rogue had actually ripped his heart out and proceeded to line dance over it.  He watched with a faint pity as the Cajun clenched his fists and tried to get a hold of his emotions, a few moments later he seemed to have attained a semblance of control and started walking toward the kitchen door, a few feet from where Logan was seated.
As he approached the veranda he seemed to realise for the first time that Logan was there and Logan watched as Remy’s poker face, the one he showed the world, crept up.  The broken-hearted, crushed look was replaced by a devil may care; slightly flirty, bemused expression and his steps became lighter and slinkier.

It never failed to amaze him how the Thief just seemed to ooze sex appeal and he found himself wondering how many people Remy had made feel special with his flirting would feel if they knew that Remy flirted with anything with a pulse.

He snapped back to attention as the younger man sauntered to a stop beside his chair.  “Nice night ‘eh Mon ami?”

Logan reached into his shirt pocket for another cigar, tore off the cellophane, nipped off the end cleanly between his teeth and spat the end into the growing darkness.  “Not bad.”  He patted his front pocket, no lighter; he cursed remembering that he had left it on the counter in the kitchen when he first headed out here.  He pulled the cigar from between his lips irritably and shoved it back in his pocket.

Remy leaned towards him and plucked the cigar back out of his pocket, he lazily placed it between his own lips and concentrated on using just enough charge to light it without blowing it up.  Logan watched, as a faint glow seemed to spread up the Cajun’s finger and spark the cigar to life.  Remy took a long drag before passing it back to Logan with a smirk.  “Remy jus’ light your fire for you, eh? Been out ‘ere long?”

Logan glared up at him and grabbed his cigar, he took a long drag.  “A while.”

Remy grabbed the sides of his trench coat and pulled them around himself to ward off the slight chill in the air, Logan hardly felt it, but ever since Antarctica the Cajun always seemed to be cold, he figured that was more a mental thing than anything to do with temperature.  “Oh.”

They shared the silence for a while, before Remy shivered and pulled the back door open.  “Bon nuit Wolverine.  Don’ catch a chill.”

Logan snorted in answer and turned back to the garden, he waited till he heard the footsteps of the Cajun enter the hall, before setting his bottle on the floor beside his seat and pulling his feet from the rail, headed for where he had seen the rose fall.
As he stared down at it in the darkness, it looked grey, but he assumed it would be blood red, as that was the colour Remy normally purchased and he had bought one or two.  A dozen for the x-women on their birthdays, a dozen and a bottle of expensive champagne for Slim and Red’s anniversary, two dozen and a huge box of chocs to cheer up Storm when she broke up with Forge, not to mention the one or two he used to present to Rogue every week.

It looked forlorn lying there, tossed aside just like Remy.  He didn’t agree with the way Rogue was treating the thief now or the way she had handled their spilt, but he couldn’t really say much about it, they had to handle this themselves.
“Stupid kid, should'a learned by now, she aint gonna come back to ya.”

As he turned to walk away the moon came out from behind a cloud and glittered on something attached to the stem, curious Logan picked the rose up, ignoring the pierce of the thorns and carried it back to his chair, where the light from the kitchen cast a faint golden glow over the veranda.

Settling back in his chair he examined the rose, tied to the stem was a beautiful diamond solitaire ring.   The Cajun had obviously decided that he needed to offer Rogue something more and thought marriage was the answer.  Logan’s pity for him in this situation grew and his opinion of Rogue slipped a notch, there was no need for her to be such a bitch about the whole thing.
He sighed again and taking a last swig of beer, picked up the wrapper from his cigar and took it and the beer bottle into the kitchen.  Getting away with smoking was one thing, but littering was a big no-no, Red would have his hide if he left rubbish in any of the communal areas.  He dropped the wrapper and bottle in the bin and spent a few minutes searching through the cupboards before finding a single stem vase, he half filled the vase with lukewarm water and slipped the rose in.  Placing it on the side, he stared at it for a moment trying to decide what to do, finally he decided to keep it tonight and give it back to the Cajun in the morning.  Taking the rose with him, he turned off the light and closed the door, in the hallway he sniffed the air and listened closely, everything seemed fine, nothing to worry about.

As he mounted the stairs to his room, his mind churned over the thoughts of Remy and Rogue’s argument and tried to come to a decisive conclusion of what he could do to lessen the pain of the thief.  He was still mulling this over when he reached his room, placed the rose on his nightstand, removed his clothes and dropped them into the wash hamper, blew out the memorial candle and whispered a quiet goodnight to the photograph of Mariko, that stood on a low table at the bottom of his bed.

Beneath the warm covers on his bed, with the silence of mind that sleep brings creeping ever closer, his thoughts turned to the way Remy had looked on the veranda, the way the light had shone on face and the sweet way he smelled.  Logan smiled softly as he drifted off to sleep, maybe he did have a way to help the kid after all.

TBC