Circumstantial Evidence

 Scott tempted Remy's eyes into opening with fragrant fresh
coffee. The Cajun peered at him. "Time's it?"
 "An hour to the team meeting. Even Jean's up already."
 "Who made de coffee?" Remy asked suspiciously.
 "Hank."
 "Okay." He put a hand out for it. He frowned at the color.
 "If you want it done right, you should get up sooner. Get
dressed. Come on. Up."
 "Fuck. You," he said carefully as he sipped his coffee. "Why
am I goin' t' dis meetin' again?"
 "Because I said so."
 "Dat ain't a reason." Scott kissed him firmly.
 "Because I *said* so. Get up."
 "Bossy bastard," Remy grumbled at him and swung his legs over
the side of the bed. He looked around. "Merde. Gotta start bringin'
clothes f' de mornin'." Scott smirked.
 "Here."
 "What is dis? Y' just go t'rough de closet until y' find de
clothes y' might wear?" Remy whined.
 "Nope. Jean did."
 "Y' tellin' m' dat woman's been dressin' y'? Y' gotta let m'
take y' shoppin', cher. Honestly. Dat woman's so…"
 "Preppy?" Remy nodded. He frowned.
 "Ain't she got no sense of playin' de crowd? If she still
plannin' t' just announce dings right now, so dat po' Remy'll get
beat f' her gettin' taken." Scott blinked.
 "What the hell are you talking about?" Remy rolled his eyes
and pulled on just enough clothing to be decent before he went to his
room. Scott followed him. "Well?" Scott asked, leaning against the
wall by the closet.
 "It's simple, Cyke. Gambit worked f' Sinister. Sinister took
Jean and Logan. Ergo, Gambit must have been a part of it. Dat's why
Cyke left him at HQ." Cyclops straightened.
 "That's not what's going to happen."
 "Y' watch. Have Jeannie listen in on Ange's doughts. She tell
y' if Remy's right or not. Dat's de conclusion. Gambit knew who did
de snatch. He must have set it up." Remy pawed angrily through his
clothes. He hung the flannel shirt up in the back of the closet
again. He located a Saint's sweatshirt and pulled it on. He pulled on
his hiking boots and tucked the laces in. He took a gulp of coffee
and pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail. He hung his shades on
his collar.
 "Remy," Scott said eventually, "if you let Jean show them
your memories, there won't be any accusations like that."
 "Bullshit, Slim. Ange an' Iceman an' probably even Bish are
gonna make de accusations. Dat's how it's gonna happen. Ole Bish
still ain' sure if Gambit's de traitor. An' Ange is gonna blame m' f'
losin' his wings, which he got every right t' do."
 "Which he does *not* have the right to do," Scott
contradicted.
 "He does," Remy insisted. "If I hadn'…"
 "Shut up, Gambit, and listen to me for once," Cyclops
snapped. Remy stiffened resisting the urge to step back. Scott cupped
his chin. "Were you in command of the operation?"
 "Non," Gambit whispered.
 "You are not to blame for the actions the Marauders took.
Scalphunter and Sinister take the blame for it. You were following
orders which you had no reason to distrust. You went there why?"
 "T' get blood samples. Said dey were promised t' him by de
leader, but dat dings could get messy cuz dere was resistance from
some of the group."
 "Not to slaughter them?"
 "Non."
 "You tried to stop them," Cyclops stated.
 "Oui," Gambit said after a long moment of silence.
 "It was not your fault that they died. You made the only
choice you thought you had available to you. You trusted Sinister's
word. Had he ever lied to you before?"
 "Non." Remy's eyes dropped.
 "I won't let you take on guilt for things that are not your
fault. Is that understood?"
 "Oui."
 "Good." Scott tugged on the tail. "Come on. Let's get you
fed."
 "Non, merci. I don' eat breakfast, cher," Remy pleaded as the
older man took ahold of his wrist and tugged.
 "Then you can help set up the coffee for the meeting," Scott
said stubbornly.

 The weekly meeting wasn't a formal affair. It took place in
the war room, as did all of their briefings, but usually it consisted
of chore lists and gossip more than anything else. There was a
celebratory mood in the room. There was more food than usual. Fruit
and donuts and other odds and ends that made it to the room from the
kitchen. Remy chewed at an apple so that Scott would stop watching
him. He put it down half-eaten on a napkin and wrapped his hands
around his coffee, gently charging it to heat it up. No one noticed
the little frown of concentration. They were too busy talking to Jean
and Logan and making sure that they really weren't hurt. Jean kicked
him under the table and his eyes jerked to hers. She tilted her head
toward the head of the table. Scott was sitting there, hands folded
in front of his face, staring at the thief. The rest of the table was
silent. Once he had Remy's attention, Scott looked carefully at the
apple, then back up at Gambit's face. Remy rolled his eyes and took
another bite of the apple. Warren snickered from his place at the
other end of the table next to Betsy.
 "What is up wit' y'? Tol' y', I don' like breakfast."
 "You need to keep your strength up." Scott's smile wasn't
seductive so much as warning. Remy's eyes widened. He glanced down at
the sheet in front of him, the agenda for the meeting. He cautiously
flipped to the Danger Room schedule. He stared.
 "Y're a sick, demented connard, Cyke," he stated. "Dat better
be 4 in de afternoon."
 "Nope." A card appeared between Gambit's fingers and started
to glow in the dangerous signature magenta that indicated Gambit's
charge. Scott didn't look phased.
 Suddenly a question flashed into Gambit's mind and his mouth
was moving before he could think, "If'n y' don' see anyt'in' but
reds, what does dis look like t' y?"
 "A card."
 "What color is it?"
 "Light pink," Scott said confusion coloring his tone.
 Remy rolled his eyes and let the card flicker out. "An' now?"
 "Pink. Why?" Cyclops brows drew down.
"Well dat explains everyding. Can' even see de damn charge can he?"
he asked Jean. She shook her head with a smile that shone through her
eyes. "Den we gon' t' have t' do dis de ol' fashioned way."
 Jean glared at him. "Don't even think about it." He thought
hard at her. She snagged the closest mug with a thought and held it
over his head threateningly.
 "Do it!" Warren urged. "Come on, Jean. Live a little."
 "Jean," Scott warned. She sighed.
 "Fine. I'll just throw it by hand." She floated it over to
herself.
 "I want my coffee back," Bishop said firmly holding out his
hand for it.
 "Livin' on caffeine, eh, pup?" Bishop took the mug back and
looked at LeBeau.
 "Yes," he said simply. "But I do so out of duty, nothing
more."
 "Bullshit," Gambit snorted.
 Xavier finally graced the team with his presence. Scott put
his feet up on the table and Xavier frowned. Scott grinned at
him. "Would you like some coffee, Professor? I'm sure Jean would love
to get you a cup."
 "Brown-noser," Bobby muttered as Jean did just that. She
actually physically got up to make it and measured in just the right
amount of sugar. She looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue
out at him, then handed the professor his coffee. She settled back
into her seat, ostentatiously leaning against Logan. He pulled away
and put his hands up.
 "No way. I'm stayin' outta whatever this is. Yer gonna fight
it out and let the rest of us know who won."
 "Three to one odds against Scott."
 "Hey!" Scott protested.
 "Oh, come off it, Slim. Your whipped and we all know it,"
Warren stated.
 "Not often enough," Xavier said in an undertone. Scott was
the only one who heard him. His head jerked around so quickly that
his feet hit the floor to keep his balance. Xavier smiled at him over
his mug. //They'll never believe you.// He could feel Scott's glare
and his smile broadened. "I'll take that bet, Ororo," he stated
quietly and Warren's jaw dropped open.
 Ororo looked at him in suspicion. "Very well. Do we have any
other takers?"
 "My money's on Jean," Bobby stated.
 "I believe I will have to rely on the professor's opinion in
this matter. Five on Scott," Hank said.  Scott and Jean looked at
each other for a long moment. Scott cocked his head to the side. For
once it didn't indicate a telepathic communication, just the language
of people who have known each other for too long. At Scott's
challenge, Jean's smile grew wicked. Remy tossed a pen to Storm and
she started writing down the bets. He watched the tension between the
two of them roil and spin. Logan smirked at his fascination. He'd
never seen Slim and Red go at it. They hadn't had a pricking session
like this one in over a year.
 "Five on Jean," Betsy said.
 "Anyone else? Warren?"
 "Five on Scott," Warren answered.
 "Cheapskate," Scott muttered. Warren ignored him.
 "Brother?"
 "Ain't stupid enough t' get in de middle of dis."
 "Bishop?"
 "In this matter, I think LeBeau is right. I am staying
neutral."
 "Fine. The books are closed," Ororo said regally.
 "Now that that's been taken care of, we have several things
on the agenda. First off, new Danger Room schedules. Make sure you
look at them. If you're late, this week's adventures include raking
the lawn and making sure the firewood is chopped and drying." Scott
ignored the groans. "Second, new chore lists are out. The usual
rotations. They're posted on the bulletin board and on the
refrigerator in case you misplace your copy. Next, Jean and Logan.
What happened?"
 Logan grunted. "Ain't much to tell. We were gettin' the food
into the van. Jean'd just closed the back. Somethin' jangled our
nerves. Then, I was out."
 "I was looking up at the sky. I'd just concluded that Remy
and Ororo had had their talk, when I realized that the lot was empty.
There was no one there. Then, that wench Arclight grabbed me. I got
off one burst to the professor or anyone else who would listen. Then,
she drugged me. The next thing I knew I was waking up on the floor of
the cell and you were riding to the rescue."
 "Logan, what happened during your captivity?" Xavier asked.
 "Talked with Scalphunter a couple of times when he brought
food. Then, Sinister drugged me. Woke up in his lab. Told me Jeannie
wouldn't be hurt if I submitted. Still muzzled me. Knocked me out and
put me back in my cage. Arclight came in to have some fun and ya
showed up." Logan shrugged.
 "You talked to Scalphunter?" Bobby asked.
 "Guy's a merc. Ran into him a couple times before he went to
work fer Sinister." Wolverine shrugged. Scott rubbed his temples.
 "You could have *told* me that," he pointed out.
 "Ain't the same guy I knew. Been cloned too often."
 "Did Sinister give you any hint of his objectives?"
 "Said I was a good specimen. Nothin' more."
 "Fine. Last order of business…"
 "But there's nothing else on the agenda," Bobby whined.
 "Shut up, Bobby. This is not going to be easy to hear. I want
*everyone* to hear the *full* story before reacting. Am I understood?"
 Grumpily, the team agreed. Scott kept his eye on Warren, who
would be the biggest problem. "Gambit?" he said gently. Remy pulled
one foot up onto the seat of his chair.
 "Gambit assembled the Marauders," the Cajun said softly. He
launched himself into the air, up and over Angel's lunge across the
table at him. He landed behind Jean and Logan in a defensive crouch.
 "Warren!" Scott snapped. Angel scowled, but took his seat. He
glared at the thief. Remy made his way back to his chair, fairly
unruffled.
 "I told you so," he murmured as he passed Scott's chair.
Scott swiped at him lightly.
 "Just sit down and talk."
 "What else do y' want m' t' say?"
 "How long did you work for Sinister?" Betsy asked.
 "About t'ree years."
Hank frowned, calculating something in his head. "From your bone
growth, I'd say you are no more than twenty-one. That would mean you
were approximately seventeen when you took up with the most
pernicious Mr. Sinister?"
 "I'm 22," Remy corrected, "I dink. Least dat's what Pere says
when people ask. It was a couple weeks before Remy turned 18."
 "You're Kitty's age?" Bobby gaped. Gambit scowled at him.
 "Oui. Suppose so."
 "What on earth possessed you to join Sinister?" Betsy
asked. "And did he set up the parlor?" Remy blinked at her.
 "Saved m' life. An' oui, he helped wit' dat. I was
distractin' him." Remy shrugged. He pulled his knees up to his chest.
 "What about the Morlocks? Why did you attack them?" Angel
asked, voice icy. Gambit's face was a mask of indifference.
 "Let me," Jean said softly.
 "Non!"
 "Yes," she snapped. She stared at him until his eyes flicked
to Logan for help.
 "Ain't worth the fight, Gumbo."
 "Fine," Gambit ground out. He opened his shields to her
probe. Xavier's brows rose.
 "Tell me exactly what you want to know, Warren," Jean said
calmly.
 "I want to know why he attacked them."
 "But *he* didn't attack them," she informed the team. She
shook her head. "These are his memories, so they'll be a bit biased.
Starting with his receiving of the assignment through the end of the
attack. They are a little disorganized." She drew the team into a
communications net, drawing strength from the professor.
 //Flashpoint. "Deliver this to Callisto."
 "Oui, M. Essex," Gambit sighed, tucking away the envelope.
 "Arclight will drive you. Don't give me that face, Boy."
Sinister cuffed the side of Remy's head gently. "I've warned you
several times that it will be at least one month before it will be
safe for you to drive. I could send Sabretooth, if you would prefer?"
Gambit scowled. "I thought not. Go."//
 //Flashpoint. "Hey, Punk," Victor said, leaning against
Gambit's bike.
 "What y' doin' here, Chat?" Gambit demanded.
 "Drivin' ya. Keys, kid." Remy reluctantly handed them over
and mounted behind the larger man.//
 //Flashpoint. "I hate takin' samples," Gambit muttered.
Sinister ignored him. "I don' like dis deal. Somethin's gonna go
wrong."
 "Do as you are told, Son, and nothing will happen that I
haven't accounted for."
 "Ain' a good idea t' take Chat t' fetch blood."
 "LeBeau," Sinister warned.
 "Fine."//
 //Flashpoint. "NON!" Gambit cried, cards already charging.
They fell to the ground, rocking the walls, as Creed caught his wrist
and opened five parallel runnels of blood around his side. Their eyes
met in a moment of shock.
 "Behave," Creed snarled, pushing the thief into a corner. The
surprise gave way to pain. Fear. Terror. Pain. Agony. Grief. Anger.
Pain. Hate. Gambit couldn't shut the dying mutants out. His shields
cracked under the pressure. He shut his eyes to the horror. He felt
the cold of the wall seep into his back. Hope. That made his eyes
snap open. Betrayal. Anger. Fear. Pain. Horror. Terror. Agony. Grief.
Screams echoed off the walls and shook his teeth. Blood ran down his
side, through his fingers. Fear, his own this time, as his eyes first
say the freely bleeding wounds. He looked away and saw a little girl.
 He forced his legs into action, grabbed the child and ran
deeper into the tunnels, seeking a hiding place. He shoved the child
into the arms of the woman he knew as their leader and continued on,
dragging the blood trail away from them. He found a corner, dark and
small. Creed would never get into it. He curled into a ball and
rocked in the dark.
 He prayed for death.//
 Jean released the net and soothed Remy's thoughts carefully.
The thief's shields snapped up and threw her out of his mind. He
didn't really care if he hurt her. He was curled up, face hidden by
his arms. Jean looked around the room. Scott had seen it before so he
didn't really react.
 Storm was weeping softly. She went to Remy and wrapped her
arms around him. He held her close as she cried, rocking her
gently. //Stop that! We talked about absorbing pain.//
 //She's m' sister. I ain't gonna let her hurt like dis.// He
closed his shields to further communication. Jean frowned at him in
frustration. He reached to soothe her anger and she glared at him, so
he turned his attentions to Warren and Betsy instead. He absorbed
Angel's rage as his due, but was surprised that he could feel nothing
from Betsy. She smiled at him.
 "You're an empath," she stated quietly. He looked away.
Xavier nodded at the statement.
 "You're twenty-two?" Bobby asked again.
 Gambit snorted in amusement. "Oui, Bobby."
 Bobby grinned evilly. Remy cocked his head to the side. "Now
I get to boss you around."
 "Quoi?" Gambit asked in confusion.
 "I'm older than you. I get to boss you around."
 "It also means that you have to be a good role model," Jean
told him.
 "Damn. Forget it then," he said. Xavier just shook his head
in amusement.

 Hank hummed as he read through the results of the tests. He
glanced at Gambit's X-rays once more. He supposed that recovery from
the trauma could have retarded the growth process. There was
something odd in Jean's blood samples. And there was an odd signature
in Gambit's DNA. He'd have to run the tests again.

 Gambit stared out at the ran. His leg ached from the damp. He
rubbed his thigh absently. He let out a lungful of smoke. Then,
without warning, his arms were pinned by a familiar embrace. "Yer
makin' this far too easy. Toldja I'd be huntin'," Logan grumbled.
 Remy twisted against the hold, but it was not use. He
scowled. He hated being caught unaware, even if he did enjoy Logan's
emotions rolling over him. He was allowed to turn in the circle of
Logan's arms to face him. Logan hemmed him in against the porch. Remy
stroked along one thick sideburn, no longer even registering the
sound of the bell. Before he could use the distraction, Logan's knee
was between his legs.
 "I love ya, Darlin'," he stated.
 "I ain't y'r darlin'. Ain't no body in deir right mind would
want Remy. He's too fucked up."
 Logan growled and the thief squirmed. "No more of this
bullshit, Cajun. Yer more'n deserving. And I love ya. Yer not gonna
push me away." Gambit couldn't help but respond to the love and
desire that pelted him. He melted into Logan's arms, cheek resting
against Logan's hair as the Canadian's mouth renewed his mark. He
whimpered under the assault. "Yer gonna let Jeannie help ya," Logan
whispered in his ear.
 "Oui," Remy said shakily. His cock was throbbing. Logan
kissed him gently on the lips.
 "Good." He left him as suddenly as he'd arrived.
 "Merde," Remy muttered as he adjusted his pants.

 Jean looked at Hank blankly. "Say that again."
 "Jean, you are pregnant." She blinked.
 "I'm going to have a baby?"
 "Yes."
 "But we always use protection."
 "There must have been a leak. Those methods are not
infallible."
 "Well, dang. Oh, I have to tell the boys," she said suddenly.
She jumped up. "Thanks, Hank." She hugged him and left. He shook his
head. Things were about to get very interesting around the mansion.

 Jean found Remy after telling Scott the news through their
link. Of course, she wasn't sure he'd remember that she told him when
Logan stopped playing with him, but she did try. Remy was still
watching the rain, still watching his memories replaying. She settled
onto his lap, squirming against the erection she found. She
giggled. "Did someone leave Remy hot and bothered?"
 "Oui, chere, dey did. Ain't goin' after him. He wants Remy on
his knees and beggin' f' it." Remy put on his best pout. "What's
Jeannie flyin' so high about?"
 "I'm pregnant." He stared at her.
 "So y'all are gonna have a bebe? Congratulations."
 "No, Silly." She tweaked his nose. "We are going to have a
baby. This is not an excuse for you to disappear." She kissed him.
Her tongue outlined his lips and they parted to let her into his
mouth. She changed position, straddling his legs. She rubbed against
his trapped cock and swallowed the soft moan. "You were naughty this
morning," she told him. "I'll have to punish you for blatantly
ignoring your teacher." He blinked at her. His hands stroked down her
back to settle on her hips.
 "I ain't Scotty," he informed her. "I ain't int' dat sort of
ding."
 "Really? You seemed to enjoy it last night." Remy sighed at
her.
 "I don' mind *watchin'* it. I just don' like bein' tied down.
Freaks m' out. Gets hard on de budget."
 "Bet I could change your mind."
 "Chere, m' wife couldn't change it. What makes y' dink y' got
a chance?"
 "I'm a 'path."
 "Who can't get past m' shields. 'Course, I ain' got a problem
wit' tyin' y' down if dat's what y' like." He shrugged. She wiggled
closer and kissed him again.
 "You let Wolvie pin you down."
 "Dat's different."
 "How?" she challenged.
 He thought for a moment stroking her back idly. "I trust him."
 "And you don't trust me?"
 "Non, chere. Especially, not after dis mornin'. Y' said y'
wouldn' tell if I told y' not t'. Y' lied."
 "Yes, I did. I'm sorry. But it was necessary for the team to
know."
 "Dat's what words and ears are for, chere. Y' ain' gettin' in
t' any more of dis boy's memories. Dought I should tell y' dat." He
cupped one of her breasts and she rubbed herself against him.
 "We'll see," she replied. She kissed his forehead. "Now, I'm
going to track down the boys. Come with me."

 Scott's fingers traced lazy circles onto Logan's chest. He
loved the feel of the thick hair under his finger tips. He felt
Logan's erection pressing against his thigh. He moved his legs and
felt Logan shudder. He smiled smugly and rubbed the thick cock once
more.
 Logan's fingers tangled into Scott's hair. He
growled, "Either stop or do somethin' about it, Boy."
 "I am doing something," Scott said innocently. Logan's
fingers twisted in his hair.
 "Somethin' more active."
 "Like what?" Scott asked, fingering one of Logan's nipples.
 "Like gettin' yer hand or yer mouth down there. Or gettin' on
all fours so I can fuck ya into the rug." Scott considered as he
turned his attention to the other nipple.
 "Or you could wait until Remy and Jean join us and fuck one
of them." He rubbed purposefully once more and Logan's hips jerked up.
 "Tease," Logan accused.
 "Don't think you've got room to talk." Scott purred into his
ear. Logan forced Scott's mouth to his own for a hungry kiss. "You're
the one," Scott panted when the kiss broke, "who can keep a man on
the edge for hours."

 Jean's hold on Gambit's wrist was one shade shy of
painful. "Slow down, chere," Remy said, pulling back hard and making
her stumble back into him. He held her molded to his body and nibbled
at her ear. "Sh." He ran a finger over her breasts and down to her
navel. "Y' tol' Cyke, non?"
 "Yes."
 "Den slow down." Remy pulled her into the guest room. He
pushed her against the door and kissed her. His tongue darted in and
out and around her mouth until she wasn't sure where it was going to
touch next. Then, he worked kisses along her jaw, licking at the
patch of skin behind her ear. She shivered.
 His hands stroked down her arms and then back up to her
throat. He kissed her sweetly. Then, he opened the top button of her
shirt. He kissed the hollow of her throat. He slowly worked down the
front of her. His tongue slipped between her breasts and she moaned.
He kissed her stomach reverently, then plunged into her belly button
until her hands clutched his hair. She hadn't realized she was so
sensitive there. He stood and carefully pulled her shirt down her
arms until it slid to the floor. He traced the edge of her bra with
his tongue. He bit down gently on one nipple through the lace of her
bra and she mewled in the back of her throat. She stroked his hair
and cheek.
 "Oh, Baby, please keep going," she begged. His tongue worked
along her ribcage. He seemed intent on tasting every part of her. He
nipped along the waistband of her khakis. He carefully released the
buttons and pulled down the fly to reveal the lacy black thong
panties she wore. He pressed his tongue to the fabric until it clung
to her skin.
 Her little breathless pants encouraged him to take his time,
sliding her pants down. He traced the panty over her hip with his
tongue. He did the same with the other hip. Her pants pooled around
her ankles. She tried to kick them off, but Remy's hands pinned her
knees to the door.
 Then, he stopped. She moaned in frustration. He pulled her
pants back up. He wrapped the shirt around her and she slid it on,
tying it to showcase her bra and flat stomach. She wrapped Remy in
her arms and kissed him harshly.
 "You are such a bad boy." He snickered and ran his hand
between her legs.
 "We go find Fearless and Wolvie now, oui?"
 "Just do me here," she demanded. He shook his head.