Knave of Hearts

Third Person Closing

Tue, 15 Aug 2006 22:34:21 GMT

Once the decision was made, things fell into place easily enough. The jet that the Guild kept in New York couldn't be moved to Africa, but the Guild had longer-ranged aircraft. Maybe not left in Africa, but they could have one ready if it was necessary.

There were several days filled with getting various things set up. There were secure lines that he and Ororo could be contacted through. Even though they would have communicators with them. he'd also gone out and gotten new satellite phones for himself and Ororo. Where they were going, cell phones would be iffy.

He made certain that his number was left for a couple of the students. Kate and Timothy. He'd input it onto Jono's Sidekick and sent a letter to Eddie with the number and permission to give it to Wicked. The team got all numbers for him and Ororo, including how to get ahold of them through the Guild.

There'd been the one fight to break up with Timothy. And the letter from Ian. That he'd had to sit down and read through a few times. He rubbed his hand over his face, feeling almost guilty about his choice for the first time since he'd made it.

There was a package and a manila envelope left inside Ian's apartment on the dining room table the next morning.

Inside the package was a brand new Sidekick with several numbers already programmed into it. One of them was Remy's new number. The others were marked 'Jean-Luc', 'Mercy' and 'Ororo'.

The manila envelope held a certificate for a first-class ticket to the nearest airport to Wakanda and a letter.

Ian,

I wasn't sure how to respond to your letter. I'm still not sure how to respond.

I'm not staying at the school. Ororo...before she came to Xavier's, she was living in Africa. I won't go into everything, but an old friend of hers has asked for her help. A lot of people over there lost their powers. It's a bit of a mess and he's hoping that she can help get things under control again.

She's asked me to go with her. I'm not entirely sure how much good I can do, but I know that I can't stay here. I trust Scott, but I can't trust Sentinels and I can't trust the government. Funny thing, that.

You don't have anything to apologize for. There were a lot of things said and done on both sides that we're sorry for. I knew you never hated me, even though I wouldn't have blamed you if you had.

I regret all of those things as well. I regret that I didn't tell you everything that first night back, or at least let you know that I couldn't talk about it right then. I regret letting you walk out, rather than trying to talk things out.

Most of all, I regret that I didn't give you a chance to accept things. I was wrong.

We're heading to a place called Wakanda. I don't know if you've ever seen it on a map, but it's kind of small. The Sidekick has the info you need to get ahold of me or Ororo. Satellite phones, so they should work just fine. If they don't, the other two phone numbers are for my father, Jean-Luc LeBeau, and for my sister-in-law, Mercy LeBeau. Either one of them will be able to get info to me, and I should be able to check e-mail as well.

The certificate is for a travel agent that I trust. If you want to come and if you get a chance, maybe you could come over to Africa for a while. It would be somewhere more than Maine that we'll have been. And maybe we can see another sunrise together, oui?

I still love you, Ian. I've never, ever regretted that.

I'll be as careful as I can. You be careful too, all right?

Je t'aime.

--Remy

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Mon, 19 Dec 2005 22:29:30 GMT

I've really got to start writing in this more often. Not that there's been a whole hell of a lot to write about lately, but I really should make more of an effort.

Finals are done with. Kids have all done pretty well. Don't know if I'm offering another, more advanced French class next semester or if I'm going to carry on with French II for more indepth learning. I think I'd prefer that. There's a lot more I can get into a full year than just a semester.

There's a new school for mutants in town. MAMAs been about as nice to them as they have to us. Which is to say, not at all. I do feel sorry for those children. From hearing some of the children talk, though, I think that some of our kids are going to be transferring. Can't really blame the parents, I guess. Doubt it's all that comforting to have your children being taught by the X-Men.

Especially if you ever go looking into just how many times we've rebuilt this school.

Ah well. Just because we have students leave doesn't mean we won't get more. I have full confidence in that. Unfortunate that the kids have to look for places like this, but at least they exist, right?

Things are going well with Ian. We had a conversation that didn't end in either of us running away. It was awkward, but I think it's a good step in the right direction. We're going to come out of this and it'll all be fine. Or, close to fine.

Everything is set for me to go back to Louisiana for the New Year. It'll be useful to get an idea of just what is really needed there yet. And I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again. Hell, I'm looking forward to actually being able to spend a couple of days with Poppa. Used to be he might get a couple hours away to see me when I snuck down. Now I can actually go home.

It's almost strange to me, just how necessary I'm finding that to be.

Journal Entry: Rooftop

Sun, 30 Oct 2005 02:10:57 GMT

It's getting easier. Slowly but surely, we're relaxing back into each other's company again. It's not easy and sometimes I really have to sit on my hands so that I don't reach out and touch him without his permission.

But Ian touched me during dance class this week. And like a fool, I tensed up about it, but I relaxed almost right away. Because it just felt nice to have his hand against my shoulder again. It didn't last, but...it was a start. It was something.

Gotta talk to Scott and Rogue about doing something with Eddie. It's bad enough that so many of these kids get it in their heads that they're stronger or know better somehow. That they can just push themselves to the fastest levels and learn everything there is to know. It doesn't work that way. And so many of them seem to have this romanticized idea of what being an X-Man is. The kind of idea that walking them out to the memorial garden isn't going to help.

Especially not with Betsy back in residence.

That was a surprise. Guess it figures, though. X-Men aren't real good at staying dead. We had a pretty decent conversation, I think. Not too terribly awkward. Or, at the very least, could have been ever so much worse.

Need to remember to sit down and just talk with Ororo more often. I don't do it often enough and I felt a lot better for the conversation. I hope she did too.

Right. Papers to grade. Going to hit the Danger Room for a bit later. If I'm lucky, nothing much will happen for a while and the school can just go on being a school.

And yeah, I did just knock on wood. Isn't that just sad?

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Sat, 24 Sep 2005 01:11:57 GMT

If it's going to be like that every week, I'm thinking we might want to give up the dance class.

That was painful. There's just no other word for it. I want to touch him but I don't dare. I want to tell him everything will be all right, but I can't lie to him. I want to be able to put that uniform back in his closet, then curl up around him and just watch him sleep. I want to be able to get to sleep without having to rely on pills again, but it's looking like I'm going to have trouble every time I see him.

Fuck. I never, ever wanted to cause him pain. I didn't want to cause Rogue pain. I'm really, honestly starting to believe that I don't belong in a relationship. That I don't deserve to have a love like that. Every time I admit to it, something goes wrong and I'm alone again.

I'm being melodramatic. God, I'm such a--I'm not finishing that thought.

Right now, my best bet for getting through this is to concentrate on the students. To teach my classes and just deal with things as they come along. Try to convince them that going into the X-Men is something they should think about after college. After they have more to offer the team than just their powers. Not sure I should be talking about that. Lord knows I can't tell them about what I offer the team.

Ignoring any reports about Gulf Coast hurricanes. I just...there's nothing I can do about them. I won't ask Ororo to exert herself again. I'm just tired of it all.

Mercy and Belle can handle it. I trust them. I maybe trust Mercy a bit more than Belle--okay, a lot more than Belle. But they know what they're doing and they know who needs help.

Belle agreed to the changes. It took an hour, but she did it. And I had to explain to her why. I'm sure she'll needle me about it later, but she was...remarkably understanding.

I still love him. I don't think it could hurt this much unless I actually loved him. I don't think I could still want to touch him as badly if I didn't still love him.

I love Rogue and I love Belle too. Those are older hurts, ones that have started to heal. I'll always love them.

I'll always love him.

There's just no way to fall out of that kind of love.

E-mail

Thu, 22 Sep 2005 21:35:04 GMT

Henri,

I know it was about six months ago, but you said to let you know if I needed any more sleeping pills. I think I need it right now, though.

--Remy

Phone call

Fri, 16 Sep 2005 17:21:34 GMT

Remy looked at the phone for a long while in the morning. He had woken up early, then realized that he had to wait a while until Belle might actually be awake. Not that he was looking forward to the conversation. It needed to be done, though.

Not that it would make things better with Ian. He was pretty certain at this point that nothing would.

Finally, he got fed up and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in and sitting back to wait for it to be picked up.

The ensuing fight was long and loud, but then again, any conversation with Belle was like that these days. Belle pointed out that Candra had made the Guilds for specific purposes while Remy reminded her that Candra didn't own the Guilds anymore. He told her that the Elixirs were gone and she growled about whose fault that was.

All in French.

All very loud.

He would have to apologize to David and Emma. Possibly Ororo. He was pretty sure that it didn't get any farther than that.

It went like that for an hour before they seemed to run out of steam. Remy sat back, hand over his eyes and just trying not to think. The phone was still to his ear.

"Why are you doing this, Remy?" Belle's voice was soft, puzzled. "You never showed any interest in the Assassins' Guild before."

He snorted, letting his hand drop to stare at the ceiling. "How many Assassins have you got that have never had the Elixir, Belle? How much longer until those who have lose their powers? And just because I never talked about it doesn't mean I didn't have an interest in your Guild. I just never agreed with it."

"You never told me that, Remy."

"Never told people a lot of things. That's gotten me in trouble."

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a sigh. "You have any suggestions as to what to do instead, Patriarch?"

"Oh, don't fucking go and use my title like that, Belle." Remy really, really wasn't in the mood. "I don't know. Your people would make excellent bodyguards. The pay isn't as good as assassinations, no, but it is easier to come by."

"Bodyguards." He could almost hear the sneer over the phonelines and braced himself for another fight. It didn't come, though. Instead, she said, "I will consider it." Then, before he could be relieved, "Is this about your lover? The one Mercy mentioned?"

He was going to kill his sister-in-law. "We broke up. Partly because I'm working with you, partly because of the Assassins. Mostly, I think, because I've never shown that I trust him. Not enough."

"That was dumb, mon ami."

"No fucking kidding." Remy sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I did trust him, though. I just never quite worked out how to tell him that."

"I find English works best."

"Belle..."

"All right, all right." He heard her shifting papers around on her end. "Look, Remy, I'm not going to lie to you. You and me, we fight like cats and dogs--yes, I know. That makes me the bitch. And I hated you for a long time. But I think...you screwed up, Remy. You know it. Learn your lesson and move on." She probably didn't mean it to be that cold, but it hurt. "Maybe he's a better person than I am and can forgive your dumb ass."

It brought a bit of a laugh to his own voice. "Thank you, Belle. You're all heart."

"Only if it's fresh from my enemy's chest and still beating."

And now he remembered why they didn't talk about her work. "We'll talk again soon, Belle. More about toning down the Assassin work."

They said their good-byes and Remy hung up, rubbing his hands over his face before looking at the clock. It was almost noon. He'd better be getting ready for lunch, then class. Even if it didn't seem like such a big deal now.

Italics = Translated from French

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Thu, 15 Sep 2005 19:49:36 GMT

It's over.

I'm such a god-damned coward at the best of times. I really, really didn't want to tell him. I wanted to be able to just hold him and ignore it. Pretend none of it was happening. That I hadn't gone to New Orleans and become the Patriarch. That I don't now lead the Assassins as well as the Thieves.

I think it was the Assassins that got Ian worst. ~~I'm not~~ ~~I could never be~~ I suppose I am, in a way, aren't I? If I'm their leader, it makes me an assassin as well as a thief. The rest of them have the luxury of picking one side or the other. Even if I consider myself a Thief, there's always going to be a little bit of me that wonders.

He'll never know how much it hurt me to tell him. Because all I wanted was for him to be happy. I will admit, he's the one who broke it off. I always knew he would because I wouldn't do it. There's no way in hell I could ever turn my back on him. I love him. Of course, I also still love Belle and Rogue, so I'm not sure what that says about me. Probably that I'm a major dumbass that doesn't know when he's licked.

Maybe he could have accepted it better if I had told him that first night, right when I came home. When I stood there in his window, watching him sleep and aching because of what I had seen. Because of what I had done. When I stood there and knew that a handful of oaths meant he was likely going to leave me. I always knew it wouldn't last, but I would have thought that the X-Men would come between us long before the Guilds would.

I'm a fool. I'm a fool and this just hurts.

I'm not stupid enough to think that I won't fall in love again. Despite the masks and not being the most trusting of people, I do love. Possibly too easily. Maybe not easily enough. Shit, I don't even know right now. My mind is just going around in circles.

What I do know is that I'm going to call Belle in the morning and curtail the activities of the Assassins Guild. In a few years, the Thieves are going to start aging and the Assassins are going to lose their powers. Maybe Candra will come back and try to turn us against each other again for the Elixirs. It'll be fighting in the streets again if that happens. New Orleans has seen enough trouble now, without the addition of warring Guilds once more. If it happens...it doesn't matter. I've lost Ian. I've lost Rogue and Belle and Genevieve in their times.

He didn't even say good-bye. I'm not sure he could find the words.

For what it's worth, Ian, if you ever read this...I'm sorry. I love you and I'm sorry I couldn't be who you thought I was. Who you needed. Who you deserved.

I'm sorry.

Journal Entry: Dallas, Early Saturday Morning

Sat, 03 Sep 2005 21:56:15 GMT

It is done.

Father finally convinced those who were against it to allow the ceremony to take place here in Dallas. I think that had more to do with the fact that he informed them he was retiring tonight whether there was a new Patriarch in place or not. They couldn't exactly leave the Thieves' Guild without some sort of leadership for the six months or so it's going to take to deal with getting the city up to spec again. So they finally allowed it to go through. Probably a good thing they did. Another day of waiting and we may have had more trouble with the Assassins.

The ceremony was nice. I can't exactly go into details. Might get my tail kicked for telling state secrets and all. Father told me later that it was a lot longer than any previous initiation. Which makes sense since we had to incoporate the Assassins into it. I'm pretty sure that Belle didn't like the idea of having to bend knee before me. That girl has one hell of a stubborn streak, but I think even she knows we need to be strong right now. Combining the Guilds is in all our best interests.

Once the cermony was done, we holed up to talk about how to deal with Katrina. Not that there's a hell of a lot that we can do. Help kick in with rescue efforts, I suppose. We can probably use our resorces best with the refugees in Baton Rouge and other cities around the coast. I know that more places than just New Orleans were hit, but that is our home and those are our people. They are the ones that I feel we need to concentrate on.

We're heading back for New Orleans in the morning. Some of our people will be left behind to help with rescue efforts. Tante Mattie, Father, Mercy and I will be going north to Baton Rouge to start getting things set up there. It's not quite two hours from New Orleans, so there are a lot of refugees there. They're the ones that the Guilds will be doing the most to help, I think. Them and the poor people who couldn't get out in time.

I know I'm going to look at the city in the morning and my heart will break. Eighteen years ago, I used to run those streets. The streets were my home. How many people were killed there when the levees failed? People who couldn't evacuate because there was nowhere for them to go? Who may not have even realized there WAS a reason to evacuate? What hits me hardest are the children, though. So many...

Fagan lives, though, and got his pickpockets out of town with the rest of the Thieves. They aren't actually part of the Guild, but Fagan and Father are friends. At least I know some of the street children are safe. It makes me feel better. Not a lot, but some.

Some of the Thieves and Assassins have been grumbling, wanting to know why, if mutants are so great, why couldn't one do anything to stop Katrina. I nearly snapped one's head off for saying that around me. It's not that Ororo wouldn't have wanted to kill the hurricane and make sure the Gulf States were all safe. It's that she can't. To do so would set off a chain reaction that could have had dire effects all over the world. You'd think these people had never heard of the Butterfly Effect at all. Besides, Ororo took some of the bite off the storm as it was. Things could have been so much worse had a catagory 5 made landfall rather than a catagory...whatever it ended up being. Catagory 4, I think. Bet that girl stayed up all night to try to bring it down.

I haven't even had time to think about how I'm going to talk about my new position with Ian. It would be bad enough, I think, being the Patriarch of the Thieves' Guild. I'm not sure he realizes I still AM a thief. Adding in the Assassins?

This may be that other shoe. The one that always seems to drop once I've said 'I love you'. Most of the time I can't say it until it's already too late. At least this time I had a few weeks of time before things went horribly wrong. And they will. I just hope that he realizes that the reason I never told him these things to begin with is...well, I am not a good person. I'm a thief. I'm now THE thief, along with heading the Guild of Assassins. I'm working side by side with my ex-wife, who doesn't seem to quite hate my guts as much as she used to. My attention is going to be divided even more ways. And I just...I can't make him the first thing in my life. I wonder if I ever could have.

I'm sorry, Ian. So, so sorry.

I return to New York tomorrow from Baton Rouge. I'll be leaving the Guilds in the hands of Belle, Mercy, Father and Tante Mattie. Father just wanted to retire from the paperwork, I think. I don't know what I'll do once I'm home. Curl up and sleep, I think. And maybe see if I can't get some advice from someone in the house about how to tell Ian all of this.

Journal and E-mail - New Orleans

Mon, 29 Aug 2005 00:44:49 GMT

God damned timing. Just as I get to New Orleans, I've got to leave. Of course, they're evacuating everyone. I don't think we're going to be able to do the initiation until we're back in the city. Which may mean delaying my return to the school. Father's not about to let me leave until it's done.

It was a surprise, knowing why he called me back. Leading the Guild...the GUILDS. He's hoping to combine them into the Unified Guilds. It would mean an end to the fighting. The same fighting that killed Henri. I reminded Mercy that Julien wasn't working under the Guild's orders, though I'm not always real sure of that. Marius was angry with me for what happened to Belle. What happened to Julien too, though really, that was Julien's fault.

Doesn't matter right now. What matters is trying to get things settled here.

Need to e-mail everyone and let them know I'm all right. Let Ian know I'm hoping to be home by Labor Day. Let Emma know it might be a bit longer.

Shit. What is it with me and women? Even the storms named after them don't like me!

Ian,

Sorry this is so late, cher. I was caught in discussions with my father all day yesterday, then Tante Mattie wouldn't let me get away long enough to send anything. And now we're evacuating, so I have to keep these short.

I'm hoping to be back by Labor Day, but there are things that I need to take care of down here and Katrina is making it difficult. Just so you know, my father didn't call me back because anybody was sick or dying. I'll tell you more when I get home.

I love you.

--Remy

Just wanted to let you all know that I'm safe. The family is evacuating along with most of New Orleans. I don't know how long I'll be. Just wanted to let you know you don't have to worry.

--Remy

Emma,

Right. Here's the deal.

My father is retiring as Patriarch of the Thieves' Guild and he's asked me to take his place.

I've said yes.

However, the initiation can't take place anywhere other than New Orleans. Which is in a bit of a state right now, as you might imagine. Depending on how fast Katrina blows out of here, I might be stuck for a while. If it doesn't look like it's going to go before Labor Day, I'll head back to Westchester and take a long weekend to get this done.

I know that it isn't a good idea to do this so near the beginning of the year, but I don't have much of a choice. They're family and they need me. I'll contact you when I know more.

--Remy

Sun, 28 Aug 2005 22:05:59 GMT

Who: Remy and Mercy LeBeau (guest star played by Jess)
Where: The Church of Lost Thieves, then a cafe: New Orleans, LA
When: Late Friday/Early Saturday
What: Remy goes to pay his respects to his brother and runs into Mercy. Explanations abound.
Warnings: Two Cajuns talking to each other. Please don't run this through the spellchecker if you love your computer.

It was the first time in nearly ten years that Remy LeBeau had freely walked the streets of New Orleans. Even in his one visit at the behest of his brother Henri, he'd been on the job. No time to pause and see the sights. After that second exile, he'd been to the edges of the city, but never really inside.

He stood in the graveyard of the Church of Lost Thieves, before the LeBeau family tomb. Again, the first time he had visited since his brother's death. It was odd, knowing that he would be able to come here again. Assuming things went well with the Assassins.

Any other night, arriving at her usual thinking spot and seeing Remy posed like that in front of the family tomb would have been an utter coincidence, and might have bowled Mercy LeBeau over. But a certain few knew he was meant to be coming back, so she wasn't terribly surprised that this was his first stop. None the less, her presence might've been a surprise to him, being that she'd tread lightly into the graveyard, with respect for the departed. Remy looked a little older than the last time she'd seem him, but Mercy may possibly have seemed younger. Despite that they no longer had access to the Elixir, and she'd turned 54 the spring previous, Mercy looked no older than 25. "No matta' how hard you look, mon frere, he ain' gon' jump up an' say bonjour..." Mercy said into the stillness of the tomb, speaking of his brother and her husband. "He too lazy." A welcoming grin sat on her features. it was good to see him back where he was raised.

No matter how lightly she tread, Remy was not about to be surprised just because he hadn't heard her coming. He turned, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. "Non, guess he ain't. Figure he earned some res' by now, though." Even a few hours on his old stomping grounds had thickened his accent, though it had lost some of the deeper qualities. Those would come back in a day or so. "Bonjour, ma soeur. Lookin' good as ever. Makes my heart heavy knowin' you gonna look dis good when votre beau-frere is an ol', ol' man." With that, he stepped forward, taking her hands and kissing both of her cheeks chastely.

"Oui, I s'pose he has." Mercy agreed, eyeing the grave fondly over Remy's shoulder. Her attention resumed upon him a moment later, and he was received with a warm hug. "Den we even; it makes my heart heavy knowin' dat now you're back, I get downgraded to second-best t'ief in town." A wink proved she was teasing. The only thing that gave away Mercy's real age was the wisdom of years in her gaze, and it was with such that she inspected Remy, noting the changes and what had stayed the same and where he seemed more care-worn. "Lookin' good yourself. For now."

"An' dat, I reckon, is gonna change 'bout de time dat you get me an' Belle in de same room." He wasn't looking forward to it. At all. All in all, though, Remy was looking better than he had at Christmas. Something about the way he stood, like something had finally been lifted from him. "Poppa's wit' her now, I t'ink. Makin' sure all de 'Sassins know dat I'm home an' I ain't to be touched."

Mercy promptly rolled her eyes and tisked. "Dat girl gonna tear up de whole goddamned state o' Lou'siana ova' dis." A good number of Assassins were likely less than pleased that Remy was off limits this time around, and she'd put good money on a rash of unexplained killings in the next morning's paper that meant there were frustrations being worked off. A languid smirk crept over Mercy's features, though. "Den again, I'm sure dere's less excitin' t'ings to be doin' dan stirrin' up de hornet's nest."

"Ma soeur!" Remy's own grin turned into a sort of sly innocence. An expression Mercy knew better than to EVER believe. "De way you talk, soun's like you t'ink dere's somet'in' wrong wit' wantin' to stir dem up." His face sobered a little, though, as he remembered where he was. "T'ink maybe we betta fine someplace to sit an' talk. Poppa met me at de airport an' let me know what's goin' on. You're gonna wanna be sittin' for it." There were few among the Thieves with better reason to hate the Assassins than his sister-in-law, after all.

"Ah, you know me. I say dere's more merit in stirrin' 'em wit' a stick of dymanite dan a twig." Mercy replied, pursing her lips. Extended discussion about the other Guild made her peevish. When he suggested someplace else, she nodded. His words, and his serious tone made her stomach clench. Bad news, then, or at least a largish pill to swallow. Stepping past Remy, Mercy collected the lone rose she'd brought along and set it on Henri's grave, her hand lingering amoment on the stone marker. When she turned back to leave with Remy, her blue eyes were hard. "You hungry?"

No, this was not going to be easy for Mercy to swallow. Still, the question made him smile boyishly once more. "Mercy, I'd say dat was a dumb ques'ion. You eva know a time when I WASN' hungry? Even Tante Mattie had trouble keepin' me fed, an' you know de way dat she cooks!" He glanced over her shoulder and nodded solemnly toward the marker, then turned and put his arm across Mercy's back. "Lead de way."

"Je suis folle. I knew dat." Mercy replied with rueful humor, dredging up a smile and leaning into his arm around her. "Let's find a cafe, den." From the sounds of it, a drink would be in order after he broke whatever news was floating around in his mind to her. Luckily for his appetite and her nerves, every cemetery in New Orleans seemed conveniently close to at least a few establishments. She picked the closest one - it had the added bonus of boasting the best all-night breakfast in the city.

Remy slid out of his trenchcoat, offering a smile and nod to the waitress and followed Mercy to a table. Once she sat, he did as well, plucking up a menu and perusing it. "Ain't sure if Poppa tol' you why I'm back," he started, glancing up at her through his bangs. "'Parently he's decided dat it's time he retired from bein' Patriarch." It should have been Henri taking Jean-Luc's place, and they both knew it.

"Quoi?" Mercy exlaimed, her surprise evident. Obviously, Jean-Luc had seen fit not to pass the news on to his daughter-in-law. Absently ordering a cafe au lait from the waitress, Mercy leaned back in her seat and eyed Remy with evident turmoil. There'd be shouting at the LeBeau estate tonight when she got her hands on Jean-Luc for not telling her himself. Now that she thought about it, Tante Mattie had been tight-lipped about something for a while now, too. Exhaling the frown off her features, Mercy shook her head and nodded. They did both know it should have been Henri, but none the less, "He's namin' you. S'a good choice." Mercy thought very highly of her brother-in-law, and found no issue with him taking over the patriarchy of the family.

"Dere's gonna be a lot of people in de Guild dat don' t'ink so." Remy ordered a cafe au lait himself and went back to the menu for a moment. "Mos' of de Guild ain't gonna look too kin'ly on Poppa namin' a successor dat's only of de LeBeau name by 'doption. An' den dere are dose dat'll have a pro'lem wit' de fact dat he's naming Le Diable Blanc to head de Guild." That wasn't the worst news. Not by a long shot.

"To hell wit' dem." Mercy replied vehemently. "It's Poppa's choice, an' dey gotta respect dat. Who else he s'posed t'name? Theoren?" Reaching across the table, she patted his hand warmly. "You know you got me behind you, mon frere. Dey'll come aroun'. Although when dey do, dey might not like you headin' back to de big city..."

"Ain't sure I'd call Wes'ches'er big, Mercy. But it's somet'in' I gotta do." Mercy would understand, even if nobody else in the Guild besides Lapin
might. He shifted, turning his hand over and catching hers. "I wan' you to be my righ' han' in dis, ma soeur. De T'ieves, dey'll lissen to you."

Nodding once, firmly, Mercy squeezed his hand and smiled. "Bon. I'd be
honored." She strongly believed the guild would come around, knowing Remy had support. She questioned wether they actually would listen to her, though- a lot of them still smarted over her being the first woman in the Guild, despite that she'd proven herself time and again. "Don' you worry 'bout it, Remy. Dey're stubborn, but dey also know what's good for dem, an' havin' a Guild wit' you for a patriarch will be good for dem."

They'd listen better to her than...well, that was the next step, wasn't it? He smiled slightly, squeezing her hand in return before he sat back. The waitress brought them their drinks and he ordered a plate of beignets to share, along with an omlette. Then he waited until she was gone before speaking again. "Dere's somet'in' else you should know 'bout all dis."

“Ah. De catch." Mercy observed, curling a leg under her and folding her arms on the table. "What else do I need to know, den." Lifting her cup, she took a long sip of the piping hot coffee and watched him over the rim. All an effort to disguise the dismay that had settle don her features. She'd felt her stomach drop at the way he was being delicate with his next news.

Remy picked up his coffee, taking a sip and watching her for a long moment. Then he set it down. "Poppa...is still hopin' to cool t'ings wit' de 'Sassins," he said slowly. "He's tryin' to convince dem dat unification of de Guilds is still possible." Even without the marriage that would have cemented it.

Mercy nearly dropped her cup. As it was, her hands shook as she set it down on the table, any hint of relaxation gone from her pose. Briefly, her face seemed to betray her real age before it clouded over with anger and she spent a minute cussing in French under her breath. "He can' possibly want dat. Not after..." She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Julien wasn' actin' wit' de blessin' of de Guild, Mercy. Not when he challenged me to a duel an' not when his men killed Henri." It was the best he could do, though the twist of his lips showed that Remy wasn't very happy with it either. "Poppa wants me to head bot' Guilds, wit' Belle as my Viceroy. He knows I can't stay here all de time. De X-Men need me an' I need dem jus' as much." He sighed, sitting back and frowning. "Dat's why it's importan' for me to have you here an' leadin' de T'ieves. Tante Mattie'll back you up if you need it, but I t'ink we bot' know dat you ain't likely to need it."

Jaw clenched through his entire speech, Mercy remained silent, staring out the window of the cafe. She was chewing over her defiant fury, but in the end, she decided that Henri would have pushed for unification as well. When she turned back to him, her gaze had softened marginally, if only because it was him, and he was asking for her help. A sigh of resignation passed Mercy's lips and she nodded. "Fine. Le's do dis. But I'm tellin' you, Remy... if dey so much as try anyt'in'... I cannot promise dat I will act in de best interest o' diplomacy."

He smiled slightly and nodded. "I ain't gonna as' anybody not to defen' demselves or ot'ers. Family 'fore even de Guild, oui? But it's time dat dis all stops. 'Sides, Mercy. I also know dat you're one of de few who I can trus' to stan' up to Belle an' won' back down. Ain't like dat's somet'in' I could as' of Lapin, hein?"

"Non, I suppose it ain't." Mercy replied. The whole thing left a sour taste in her mouth, but doing this for him - with him - had never been a question. She picked up her cup again and sipped pensively. A sly smile crept on to her lips a moment later. "Dis mean it ain' proper to go aroun' stirrin' up de hornets anymore?" It was only a tease - she'd act as decently to the Assassins as they chose to act to the Thieves.

Remy looked up at her, all wide-eyed innocence. Which, coupled with those red-on-black eyes, didn't particularly work well. "ma soeur, when did we ever go 'roun' an' stir up de hornets?"

Wide-eyed innocence. Right. Even when he'd been a child, it had never worked on her, and she didn't believe it now for a second. "Nevah. We're above dat," she replied, chuckling. Trust Remy to snap her out of a spectacular mope. Easing back in her seat, Mercy stared out the window again, picturing the state of Guild politics within the week. "Belle'll be pleased as pie. Dat girl, she gon' enjoy havin' a bit more authority t t'row around."

"I figure she pro'ly will, oui. But she can't order de T'ieves 'roun' directly an' she has to report to me. It'll be more power in a way, but less in ot'er ways. She'll give up a lot of autonomy in order to be Viceroy, but I t'ink Poppa will make her see dat it's for de bes'. For everyone." Less killing between the Guilds, for one. That would be a help.

"Dat's true." Selecting a beignet, Mercy took a thoughtful bite and nodded. Between herself doing the actual day-to-day leading of the Thieves, and Belle reporting directly to Remy, that would significantly cut down on the amount of headaches they would have to deal with. "Bon. Dis is for de best, den. An' it'll give you an' excuse to visit us more of'en, non?"

Remy smiled, just a little bit and picked out a beignet for himself. "It's good to be 'lowed back for more dan jus' Chris'mas," he said softly, tearing off a piece of the pastry. "Reckon mos' of my work can be done by 'puter an' over e-mail an' fax. If I can get Summers to let me borrow one of de run'bouts, I can be back here in an hour. If I can't, I'm sure dat de Guild can keep a plane in New York, so dat I can come down more of'en."

"I t'ink we can arrange dat for de Patriarch," Mercy replied with a smirk, and attended to their snack more interestedly. "Anyway. Dat's enough o' dis business for now. How's de spandex contingent treatin' you?"

He snorted, eying her amusedly. "De spandex contingent's been treatin' me jus' bien. Had a couple fights earlier in de year. De Inauguration an' den a few more later on wit' de Brot'erhood. Got some cracked ribs in de las' fight wit' dem. Den I ended up helpin' a detective frien' of mine take out some mutant mafia chiens. Dat wasn' really part of de whole 'spandex' t'ing, though."

"Oui, we heard about de business wit' de president," Mercy said around a bite. "Dat homme, he seems to have backed off wit' de anti-mutant business, oui?" She shook her head, a few strands of blonde making their way loose from her braid. "De Brot'erhood, on de ot'er hand. Dey jus' keep on comin'. Been a pain in you asses since as long as I can remember you bein' wit' de X-Men, an' before dat, I'd imagine."

"Only Sabertoot' for me, really. An' dat's been since Paris." Henri had been with him for that, so Mercy would know. "An' de president..." Remy paused, not bothering to look around. The people here were used to keeping their mouths shut about what they heard, after all. "De person dat was inaugurated wasn' Hatcher at all. Was dis femme named Mystique. You may have heard of her."

"Dieu," Mercy exhaled. "I have. Y'know, whenever we talk, I end up feelin' extremely grateful dat de only trouble we see roun' here are tourists trompin' roun' de cemeteries at all hours and noisy drunks roun' Mardi Gras." Mutant troubles seemed a relatively low compared to Guild issues and the usual crime rates.

"Believe me, ma soeur, I definitely miss de days when de only t'ing I had to worry 'bout was gettin' beat up by some 'Sassin jus' for bein' a t'ief." Remy shook his head. "Mystique's out of de Oval Office now, though, an' dat is really Hatcher as president now. I t'ink, though, part of de reason he ain't so gung-ho on anti-mutant issues is 'cause Emma was a bit unet'ical wit' her powers." As if a thief had anywhere to speak of about ethics, really.

Which, of course, Mercy commented aloud about. Before she moved on to, last time she'd checked, choppier waters. "An' you settled down wit' anyone Belle might try an' toss into de swamp? I need to know dese t'ings now dat I gotta corral de guild on your behalf." There was that teasing glint in her eye again.

Oh. Oh, he hadn't really wanted to talk about that. Unfortunately, as Patriarch, his love life was a thing to be scrutinized. "Umm..." Remy paused, picking up another beignet and tearing off a corner. "I ain't sure dat 'settled down' is de right word for it."

Picking up on his reluctance to answer, Mercy did what any good sister would do and pried more. "What's de right word for it, den?" If she seemed to be taking particular relish in finding out the details of his love life, it was purely out of professional interest.

Remy looked at her, then back to his beignet. Her reaction was going to be interesting. "Relationship, oui, but settled down? I ain't sure dat he'd be all dat interested in it."

To her credit, Mercy did her best not to scoot forward on her chair and clap like an over-interested child. She did pause in her chewing, though, while she processed the careful words, and resumed with a warm smile. "Hmn. And his name is..." It made no difference to her where Remy's persuasions fell; she loved her brother-in-law unconditionally, and hoped her reaction to his news was illustrating that.

The bad thing was that he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since they had said the three words, it was on Remy's mind. "His name's Ian. He's one of de former students at de school. Empat'. Deaf. An' gay, though I bet you figured dat part out."

Nodding slowly, she listened with perfect attention. "Oui, I figured dat part." Eyeing Remy with interest, she took another sip of her cafe au lait to wash down the beignet and chuckled softly. "You two 'appy?"

"I...oui." He smiled slightly. "When he ain't bein' a total drama queen an' worryin' 'bout me likin' girls or wantin' to be wit' girls insteada him. He foun' dat picture I keep of Belle. De one from when we were sixteen? An' I had to 'splain to him 'bout her an' some of what happened." Remy grimaced and sighed softly. "He's got some self esteem pro'lems. I'm doin' what I can to help him out wit' dat."

"Bon. He's lucky to have you." Mercy assured him. "I'm sure the sound of t'ousands of ladies hearts breakin' all over de world was deafening," she added with a cheeky smile. Whenever she happened to feel lonely, it always helped to see someone she cared about in love. Lifting her glass, she tipped it in toast. "Moi, I'm t'inkin' of starting a cat collection so I can be crazy ol' Widow LeBeau." Mercy grinned ruefully - everyone knew she'd only given her heart once, and wasn't likely to do it again, no matter how may years she had ahead of her.

Remy's grimace turned to a soft smile. "I ten' to t'ink de ot'er way 'roun', Mercy. I'm lucky to have him." He raised his coffee mug in a return toast and laughed. "De only part of dat dat you ain't is ol'. Or you t'inkin' 'bout gettin' de cats to justify bein' called dat?"

"I just don't like makin' y'all feel bad dat I'm so sprightly at my ripe age." She replied with a wink. " 'Specially since I'm so much prettier dan de rest of you." Settling back in her seat, Mercy smiled contentedly. She'd missed spendng time with the younger of the LeBeau brothers. "Anyway, when you gon' bring Ian down here to meet de family? Tante an' I, we promise we'll lock up de pictures of you when you was jus' a petit bebe."

"You don' HAVE any pictures of me when I was a petite bebe." That, at least, was one thing that he never had to worry about. He'd been ten when he was adopted, so the earliest pictures of him were around that age.

"You still de petit bebe," Mercy corrected, wagging her finger at him. "I'm talkin' bout dat particularly han'some one from when you was jus' come to live wit' us."

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. "Oh non. Not dat one!"

Tossing her head back, Mercy laughed brightly at his reaction, and reached across the table to pat his cheek. "It's alright, mon frere. Lots o'folk go t'rough an' awkward phase. An' look, you turned alright, non?"

"Al'ight, dere's awkward phases an' den dere's dat picture." He shook his head and smirked slightly. It quickly faded to a smile, though. "I missed you, Mercy. De X-Men, dey're my family. But not like dis. Not like you an' Poppa an' Tante."

"Fair 'nough. It wasn' all dat flatterin'." Mercy conceeded generously. She, too, smiled softly. "Missed you, too, Remy. Ev'ryone else is so serious all de time, an' to be honest, de family ain' whole wit'out you aroun'."

"I'll be 'roun' more," he promised, smiling. "See if we can't get de family back to bein' able to enjoy demselves, oui?"

"Oui," she agreed, glancing up at the clock on the wall. They'd been talking for quite the long time. "Dieu. Poppa's prolly done wit' Mademoiselle Guillotine." Sitting up and draining the last of her drink, Mercy smiled fondly. "Why don' you head home an' get settled in. I'll be along soon. I need to have a word wit' your brot'er about dat damn chicory coffee he got Poppa addicted to. Stinks up de whole house."

Remy grinned and stood, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Who am I to keep you from bitchin' out mon frere? Chicory al'ays was one of dose t'ings I never did figure out how anybody could like it." He straightened and took her hand. "Dis'll work out, Mercy."

"Wait til you get up tomorrow. You'll be smellin' it all day." She stood as well, and dropped her own kiss on his cheek in return. "Course it'll work out. An' if it don' wanna work out, we'll make it." Mercy assured him confidently, dropping a few bills on the table and leading them out. It was hideously humid out, even this time of night. Parting from Remy with a grin, Mercy started off backwards towards the cemetery. "See you later, mon frere. Watch out for anythin' blonde an' formerly married to you on de way home. I hear she stalks de streets worse'n Marie Laveau."

"Dat remin's me. Really do need to go down to Saint Louis num'er 1 an' pay my respects. Ain't got not'in' to as', but it's been a while." And Remy, like any good street kid from the Crescent City, had learned that superstition had its place. Besides, he rather liked walking around some of the old cemeteries at night. "You be careful, Mercy, an' I'll see you back at de house." He gave her a wave and turned back toward the French Quarter. It was time to see how things had gone with Belle, he supposed.

Journal Entry - Maine

Fri, 26 Aug 2005 21:57:03 GMT

(OOC note: Backdated to August 18th)

This trip to Maine may have been the best thing for all of us. Bobby is certainly more relaxed. It's good to see. It'll probably change once he gets back to Mansion, but it's good to see him let go for a bit.

Things with Ian have...progressed. We've said 'I love you'. Hell, we've even said it in as many words. It's not something I ever thought would come out of my mouth again, no matter how much I may feel it. They seem to be cursed words where I'm concerned. I don't want to see something happen to Ian. I never want to see him hurt, and I know I would protect him if I could. But there are always going to be things that I can't keep from harming him.

Like Belle. God, I should have left that picture behind in my desk. I could see it in his eyes when I told him I'd been married. But how the hell do you bring something like that up? Especially when it was nearly ten years ago and nothing was ever done about it. And when I thought for years that she was dead, then she wasn't, then she didn't remember me and now she hates me?

That...looks really fucked up. And it is. Things with Belle and me are not normal. They can't ever be normal. But Ian got this hair up his ass about it meaning that I must want to be married. That I wanted to be with girls. Something like that. I don't think he's ever going to reconcile the fact that I am bi and I do like girls. That doesn't mean that I don't love him and want to be with him.

I like girls. I like sex with girls. It's not for everybody, but that's all right.

I love Ian. I WANT Ian. And I think, sometimes, that disbelief is going to be the end of me. It gets more and more difficult to keep hold of my tongue when he tries to push me away because of some perception he has about my likes and dislikes and what I really want. I don't want to get mad at him, especially for something that I know isn't entirely his fault. But it's just...too much sometimes. Almost too much to deal with.

He apologized a few days later, taking me out for a picnic. I think he's getting more used to me touching him in public. He certainly didn't complain when we ended up behind those bushes. Too bad that family had to come by. Nearly gave me a heart attack. It wasn't any easier for Ian, from the way he looked. Still, I think he had fun.

We're heading back to the Mansion soon, and then it's only a few more weeks until classes start. I'll be glad to get back into the classroom, though. I won't even mind doing the bo class with Eddie, though I think I'll open it up to other students who can get the required permission. I'm not about to teach it to someone that Logan doesn't think is ready, and he knows what the kids know better than I do.

I can't believe I'm giving myself more work. I think Scott's getting to me.

Journal Entry: The Roof

Thu, 14 Jul 2005 14:42:00 GMT

It's been a good couple of weeks. Finally caught up with Kitty. She seems to be doing all right. We're all just waiting for August to get here, though. As much as we love the students, we need some adult time as well. Though I have no doubt that Scottie's hoping to get some team time in as well. Which may be more difficult since a bunch of us really want to get out of the Mansion for a while.

Kitty's one of them. Can't really blame her. It's hard enough for her to get time to go see Wisdom. The late start on the school year likely didn't help. Next summer should be easier for her, though, since it should be a more normal summer. She seemed to take me dating Ian pretty well. Then again, she knows what it's like to try to choose one person over another, though I doubt anybody would want to remind her of Piotr right now, wherever he's gotten off to.

Grace, Bobby, Ian and I are probably going to take off for a little while over the summer as well. Grace has mentioned Maine. I'm sure Ian's going to just roll his eyes about it, but it would be good to get away from the cities for a bit. He can't let his control slip, not with Bobby and Grace's brother there, but maybe I can get him out away from people for a bit so that he can let himself go a little. You can't keep all those emotions behind your shields all the time. That's really not safe.

I owe my father another call. I think it amuses him that I've called him more often since I started teaching here than in all the years since I left New Orleans. Tante Mattie says he's pleased as well, though, so it's not so bad for all that. If only I could convince the students that I'm not the person to talk to when they're having relationship problems. And I probably shouldn't be giving sex advice. At all. Ah well. I hope Kate appreciates what I showed Timothy.

I'm still thinking about last Friday. I get hard just thinking about his eyes. He's so used to letting his empathy do the connecting that I'm not sure it ever occured to him that eyes could do the same thing. I wonder if it would surprise him that it's not his body I think of at night but rather those green eyes of his. To be able to watch his face, to see what he's feeling in his face rather than depending on our powers... I've got to find a better position, though. That one puts too much stress on his back.

~~I wonder if he knows how much I want to say 'I love you' rather than 'I adore you'.~~

Journal Entry - Chez Cajun

Sat, 02 Jul 2005 15:36:59 GMT

I should do this more often. But the last couple of weeks have been pretty quiet, all told.

Scott's closing himself off. Which probably isn't a good thing, but you can't force the man to do anything. He has to decide for himself how to handle this. Maybe, once Jeannie comes back, he'll get better again. And she will come back. She has to.

I need to track down 'Ro sometime soon. I shouldn't let so much time go between when I talk to her. She's family, after all. I need to catch up with Kitty as well. I promised Jeannie that I'd keep an eye on her, and I do try hard to keep my promises.

I've talked to Rogue. She's expanding her room and I've offered to help her out with that. It's nice that we're friends again, though it's still difficult to talk to her about some things. I really don't want to talk to her about Ian, though she's right when she says that it only makes things harder. I know she doesn't want details, but how do you talk about your current love interest to your ex-girlfriend?I have to find a way, though.

Managed to catch Bobby. Or, rather, Bobby caught me. I shouldn't let him hide as much as he is. Unfortunately, other than offer another ear, there's not much I can do. Inviting him out for basketball, throwing him in the pool, that only helps so much. Flashes of the old Bobby, of the kid he still tries to pretend so hard that he is, but it's not permanent. I wish to God I could find a better way to reach him. Or even just understand his problems. Other than letting him know I'm here for him, I'm not sure there's anything I can do.

Ian and I have been spending a lot of time together. I'm being damned careful not to forget my duties here at the Mansion, which makes it difficult sometimes. I can't just go on a date when I know the students might need me for something, and I can't ever leave my comm behind. I worry about leaving a uniform at his apartment. I don't want him to think about what it means. The alternative is to tuck one in the trunk of the car. Which may not save me time in the end, but it may make Ian more comfortable.

On the other hand, I'm not sure there's anything that will make him more comfortable with the fact that I'm an X-Man. He's always going to worry about me going out and not coming back. Or coming back seriously injured. I think what really worries him is that I'll come back injured and they won't be able to save me. And he'll have to sit there and watch me die.

I can handle death. It's something that I've learned over the years. It comes with being an X-Man sometimes. Of course, if you're like Jeannie, it doesn't tend to stick, but it can happen. I don't want to see it happen to the kids, and I'd rather not see it happen to any of the team. And I'd really rather it not happen to me, though I can handle it, I think. One day, he's going to have to learn to accept it too. I'd rather he not, but death happens.

I suppose I need to tell him that I won't ever leave him without a fight. When I die, I hope that it'll be in a blaze of glory.

Which all reminds me, I really do need to track down the new girl. Wicked, I believe Ian said her name was. What a name...but, she's from Genosha. They do things differently there.

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Mon, 20 Jun 2005 16:35:28 GMT

Jean's gone. The Professor contacted her and called her to Genosha. My guess is that Scott isn't taking it terribly well, but he's been hiding. I won't go and try to pull him out yet. Let the man handle this however he can first. Though, honestly, I'm beginning to think that a X-Men drinking day is seriously becoming called for. Between Scott and Bobby...

Bobby's seeing a therapist. Which is good, I think. I've been telling him that he should talk to someone for a while now, since before he left for Genosha in March. He's family. I worry about him. I should track him down and make sure he's all right.

I've apparently become school counselor, at least to a couple of the students. Timothy especially. Ran into him this week while he was hiding from Rogue. Apparently she ran a teamwork exercise with Timothy and Eddie and it went fine. Except for the fact that Timothy's got it into his teenage boy head that Eddie is trying to steal Kate away from him. I've seen the way that she looks at Timothy. The chances of Eddie having a chance getting her away from Timothy are somewhere between slim and none, and slim was catching the next bus out. Ah well, they're teenagers. What can you expect?

I am lucky, however, that things are going as well as they are between myself and Ian. After the fight last Friday, I talked with Jane some, and she made a point that I should talk to Ian and find out more about Billy and about what happened that night. Knowing how much he loves to talk about his past, I had to make a deal that if he told me about Billy, and I'd tell him about the Massacre. Well, I didn't phrase it that way, but that was what it boiled down to.

It was difficult hearing him talk about Billy, not because of envy or anything else but because I know how deeply Billy's death affected Ian. But I think it did him some good, though, talking about Billy and what happened that night. Maybe it'll finally start to bring him some closure, though I think the part that bothers him most is the fact that Billy thought he was dying alone. He felt that, which is why he has his troubles shutting people outside his shields.

I was surprised he handled finding out about the Massacre as well as he did. He was shocked, yes, and angry, but I'm not sure the anger was aimed at me. He certainly didn't want me to leave. In fact, he didn't even flinch when I asked to stay the night because I didn't want to drive back to the Mansion. I think we both really just needed someone to cling to that night. Hell, I even slept naked and he didn't bat an eye.

It laid the framework for Saturday night, though. I can't put into words what happened that night. 'Ian and I had sex' just doesn't sound right, but neither was it 'making love'. It was something in between, a connection, though I'm not sure it was that profound. He's a beautiful man and a responsive lover. Apparently he likes to be held down. I'll have to consider that more thoroughly.

Also need to find thank you gifts for Grace and Lotte, to repay them for their help. I gave Emma chocolate, so that might not be a bad idea for Grace. Maybe the same for Lotte. I'll just tell her to hide them from Ian so that she can have them to herself.

I should find something for Ian as well. He gave me a beautiful silk shirt. Lord knows he deserves a very large something for putting up with me.

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Mon, 13 Jun 2005 00:49:21 GMT

Right. That's that taken care of. Everything is in motion for Saturday. Just need to get the menu together and figure out the logistics.

I shouldn't be this nervous. I wouldn't, except that we had a fight the other night. I came back pretty well bruised up from trying to help Friday (Note to self: Do not go into a fight with that woman unless she's sober) and he...

Well, he reacted pretty predictably. I've been expecting it. I'm not sure he quite realizes just how much being an X-Man means to me, and he can't unless I tell him everything. Which I've promised to tell Lotte, simply because she needs to realize that she's not the only one who has made bad mistakes, but that's for another day. As strong as I know he is, I'm not sure if he can handle it. Hell, most of the time I'm not sure if I can handle it, and I lived through it. Then again, it involves telling him about one time when I almost did die. Maybe he'll understand then that I'm stronger than he thinks. Maybe.

Anyway, went to help Friday get her boyfriend back out of the hands of the Mutant Mafia. That was fun, only not. Got slapped around by an eight-foot gorilla. In a zoot suit. That really should be funnier than it is. Still...okay, it's pretty funny as it is.

The kids are getting restless. Timothy thinks that Eddie is going to try to steal Kate away. Which I'd like to see him try, because Katie would give him a piece of her mind. And then she'd turn around and give Timothy another piece for thinking that.

He also said that he thought Rogue liked me. The good kind of like. Shit. I can't deal with this.

Better to concentrate on Saturday.

And call Tante Mattie and Father to apologize for having been a teenager.

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Sun, 05 Jun 2005 21:35:31 GMT

Geez. Busy week.

Finally managed to get the team together for some basketball. I'd mentioned it to Bobby once, but then I didn't do anything about it until last Friday. Then I sent out an e-mail and got everyone out onto the court at midnight. Just the adults, including the TAs and Ian. Ian was cute and thought I'd e-mailed him on accident.

It was good because I dragged him into the TV room after the game and we watched "The Princess Bride". He didn't make fun of me for liking a girl's movie. Not that he got to see a lot of it. We ended up on the floor before the end, kissing. Which would have been fine at his place. In the middle of the TV room at the Mansion? Not so much.

I slept over again Friday night. That was nice. I don't think he even realizes how much it means to me to have him sleeping against me. Touch...I wanted that with Rogue. I have it with Ian. I feel a little bad about that, but...well, I think I have to let it go. Rogue and I are doing well. We've gotten...somewhere. We're still friends. Funny. I used to say that just being friends with her would hurt worse than not having her around at all. Now...guess things change. I want her as my friend, not just as someone who lives here.

Too many people around here to worry about. Something is up with Bobby. I don't know what to do to help him. Every time I pull him out of his shell, he goes back in. Short of locking his door behind him so that he can't retreat, I don't know what to do. Not that I can't lock his door behind him. I'd just rather not. Seems a lot like forcing the issue.

Kate's mad at Bobby because he's been home two months and hasn't contacted her. Which I can understand. I really can. If he'd been here that long and hadn't given me a holler...okay, he wouldn't have because I'd have tracked his ass down and dropped him in the sauna or something equally nasty. She gave up after trying to catch him for a few days, which I'm sure didn't help. I told her to e-mail him. Which is something she should have done in the first place when she couldn't catch up with him, but I'm not going to tell her that. I would have thought it made sense, though.

She's also stressing out because she's putting all this pressure on herself. She's almost seventeen and she still gawky and frizzy hair and she thinks she's dumb. She doesn't understand that these things happen. She'll grow out of the gawkiness. Her hair may always be frizzy. I swear, we should let her see Kitty when the humidity gets high. Love you, chaton, but you know it's true. Kate is doing fine, but she's got this idea that you've got to be perfect to be an X-Man. Katie, if you only knew...

Talked with Timothy as well. Still trying to ignore the hero worship from him, but he's having the same sorts of issues that Kate is. Some worries about the way that he looks. Apparently his mutation is more cat-like than I would have originally believed. Difficult for him, and he's scared about how Kate will handle it. His instincts are giving him problems as well. I'm not sure if I had the best advice for him about that, but I basically told him that he can't learn to deal with his instincts if he can't recognize them. Just hope I didn't step on Henri's toes with that one.

Henri...

The vial is open. Apparently Sinister keyed it to my own powers, so it couldn't be opened otherwise. Bastard. Well, Henri has it now, and apparently the matter inside it is mine. I haven't heard anything more about that yet.

Is it wrong of me to wish that I could have Ian up in my room on some nights of the week? Probably.

Should start getting plans set in motion. Need to talk to Grace and Lotte, do some shopping. I told Ian that he'd know it the night we would have sex, and damn it, he's going to.

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Fri, 27 May 2005 19:16:16 GMT

Things seem to be going pretty well, all in all. The students are buckling down in classes. Even Timothy seems to pay attention in class. Well, French class, at least. Had a little trouble in the first dance class, but that seems to have worked itself out. And I think Katie's doing better in math since I started tutoring her. She should be ready for the next level next year.

I owe Emma, big time. She let Ian hear my voice on Wednesday. I could see what a big deal it was to him, and I was happy that I asked Emma to do it. Need to find a gift, but what do I give her? Well, other than Scott, which I can't do. And at this point, I'm not sure she'd take him anyway.

Ian and I have slept together. No sex. Not even sexual touching, just...slept. I don't think I've slept that well in years. I'm fairly certain he hasn't. But it was nice. One of these days, I have to cook for him. I'll even pay to get Lotte out of the apartment. Not that I have a problem with Lotte in the least. It's just...I tend to go a little overboard with the romance when I'm just cooking for two.

Other than that...well, there's one thing. Something I've been trying to avoid thinking about too much.

I let Jean into my head to see what happened. Well, I don't normally like having telepaths in ther (reminds me of Sinister), but she was able to clear away a lot of the emotional stuff that came with my empathy coming to the fore. Including the fact that Sinister basically set me up. He knew where I was and sent Grey Crow to point me to him. No idea what he planned to do with me, but it scares me.

Reminds me, though. I should get hold of Henri and see if he's found out anything about the vial. Maybe that's what he wants to talk to me about. We haven't been able to catch up yet.

Journal Entry: Chez Cajun

Sat, 07 May 2005 16:32:13 GMT

So. I talked to Rogue. She's...upset. Understandably. I wish there was some way I could make it better for her. That I still love her but--God, we never work out. Seattle should have taught me that. Anyway, I guess she ended up talking to Bobby. Which is good. Bobby knows us both almost better than we know ourselves. If anybody could listen to her and really understand, it would be him.

A few days later, I got to talk to Ian. Right after his first ASL class. He was so nervous I could practically feel it across the room, and I know he wasn't projecting. It was just that obvious. When we talked afterwards, I was actually afraid that he'd turn me away. That I'd have gone through all that for nothing. But he didn't. Hell, he was overjoyed about the prospect of going out with me. That's a little new. Rogue was so hard to convince to go out on a date, and Belle...well, we knew each other too early for anything to even be considered dating. So, I said I'd take him out Friday after the dance class was over.

Class went fine. Dancing and being able to move my body are things that I'm very used to. I borrowed one of the cars and took Ian off into the city for dinner. Where I proceeded to make a fool out of myself. This is the first time I've ever dated a man, so I'm not sure what the rules are. I went to pull out Ian's chair for him, like I would anybody I was dating, just at the same time that Ian was pulling it out as well. Damned chair nearly went flying across the room. I blushed. I know I blushed. It's going to take some getting used to.

Dinner was nice and the food was good. I'd gotten the recommendation from a client in the city. I'm sure Scott would love to hear that. Anyway, conversation was sporadic, but I could tell that Ian was making an effort to speak. Unfortunately, the damned restaurant was busy and loud and Ian's always so worried about how loud he is. It was difficult to hear him most of the time, but I wasn't about to ask him to speak up. Next date, I think we'll go somewhere quiet. Or somewhere we can at least get a private table in the back, away from everyone else.

After dinner, I drove him home. He didn't invite me up, which is okay given his roommate. Not that I have anywhere to speak from when it comes to what Lotte did, but I doubt that she'd be all that interested in seeing one of the X-Men right now. Let her get back on her feet first.

Then Ian dropped the bombshell, wondering if I would stay over next time. He was very careful to emphasize that it would only be to sleep. I told him that I would need to think about it. He said that was all right, but I could see the hurt in his eyes. He's so accustomed to being used, to not being turned down when he offers his body... He holds himself so cheaply. He doesn't understand that sex isn't the only thing two people can have together. And I need to work on that. Until he can see that I can know about him and still care for him, he'll think that sex is the only way to get the closeness he desires.

All right, I could feel that he didn't really want sex. Not really with that offer. Which is the only reason I'm even considering it. Not on the next date, though. He understands and respects a no from other people. I've got to see if he can learn to say no on his own, though.

Journal Entry: The Rooftop

Mon, 02 May 2005 17:16:03 GMT

I've been thinking a lot lately. I know I usually do it here, but I couldn't make myself face what I was thinking about in such stark terms as black ink on paper.

I care about them both so much, but I'm hurting them both as well. And Grace pointed out, I'm hurting myself too, though I don't tend to think of it like that. But it's true. I'm having nightmares about Paris. I haven't had dreams about it since Creed was housed in the Mansion and he told Rogue. Only now, instead of Genevieve and Henri, I'm seeing Rogue and Ian. I only catch one, but...I don't know who it is. I wake up before I see who is at the end of the rope that I've caught.

I'm going to let one of them down. The only thing I know is that it won't kill either of them. They aren't really falling from the towers of Notre-Dame. It's just my mind's way of forcing me into a decision, or my subconscious's way of working through the problem.

I hate my subconscious.

I've tried listing pros and cons, making lists of what I like about them each. And as much as I care about them both, it seems to come down to two things: touch and need.

Henri, my brother, always told me that I had a damsel-in-distress complex. I'd sell my own soul to protect someone in trouble, especially women or children. When I arrived here, Rogue...needed someone. Someone to care enough to look past the long sleeves and the gloves, to see that there was someone wonderful beneath them. And...okay, I'll admit it. It took a while for me to do it. I looked at her as a pinch: something that I couldn't have, therefore I wanted it. But in wanting it, I got to know her, and that made the difference. She wasn't a pinch anymore, but a woman and someone that I wanted to be with. Except I'm an idiot and when we kissed in Israel...I lost her. And it's taken all this time to get her back.

I loved her. I still love her. I think I always will.

With Ian, things are different. He made things easy on me. It wasn't a secret when we first me that he liked what he saw. I was...going a little mad at the time, I think, spending all my time out of the Mansion. Finding women and men to sleep with. I didn't want to stay with them, I just...I wanted. Maybe I wanted something to take the pain of Rogue out of my life. Maybe I was trying to bleed something out and couldn't find the way. But into that void came Ian, scared of his own abilities and scared of shielding. And that one night together, I felt a connection that I've never had with another person in my life. Ian is an empath and for a while, I forgot. I was able to just live in the moment again. It all crashed down on me the next day, but...now he's been back at the Mansion and

I care for him. And I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I could love him.

And then there's me, since Rogue insisted. She wants me to put myself first, and...I want to try. I keep putting off a decision because I don't want to hurt either of them, but I think my classes are starting to deteriorate and the strain may well be showing there. I don't know. I...

I'm never this hesitant. This uncertain. But I know that when I held Ian, it felt...good. It felt right. But I worry because...Rogue is an X-Man. She knows and understands the kinds of lives we lead. She understands when I get injured that it was for a good reason. Or, at least, for a reason.

Ian...Ian's normal, for lack of a better word. Deaf, mutant, gay, yes, but normal. There is a life for him outside of the Mansion. A place for him in the world that doesn't include Xs and spandex and codenames. He's an innocent and I want to protect him from that. And God, he needs to be protected. He needs someone to be there to hold him, to beat it into his head that he's a good person, that there are people who love and care for him and that he's accepted and...

I think, if Bobby or Kitty were to read this, they'd point and laugh. Because those are the things that I need, too. Which is what it comes down to: touch and need.

I think...I think I need Ian. And Ian needs me. But God, how do I tell Rogue?

To sleep... -- Wednesday Night/Thursday Morning

Fri, 22 Apr 2005 16:00:08 GMT

Remy knew it was a dream. Nightmare, really. He remembered going to sleep, still thinking about the conversation that he'd had with Rogue. The choice weighed more heavily upon him than ever before.

It was hardly surprising, then, the venue that his mind chose to play the choice out upon. Paris glittered below the Cathedrale Notre-Dame de Paris. Remy could see the Seine to the south, below the tower that he stood on. The vista would have been beautiful if not for the other man who stood on the tower.

"See, LeBeau, it's real simple. You give me the pendant and I let them go."

It was more memory than dream. It had really happened like this, when Remy was seventeen years old. Standing atop the southern tower, watching as Creed dangled the two people he had cared for most into empty space.

"Of course, I let them go and they fall." Creed grinned wickedly. "And you can only save one of them. That is, if you have both hands. So, toss the pendant here and we'll see how things fall out."

For the first time, Remy looked to the two that Creed held. In reality, it had been his brother, Henri LeBeau, and a young woman named Genevieve Darceneaux that he had stolen the pendant from in the first place. He'd half been expecting them to be there in this dream as well. Instead, he was surprised to see two pairs of green eyes watching him: Rogue and Ian. His heart constricted, feeling the weight of the Cheating Star in his hand.

Creed's grin widened. "Which is it going to be, LeBeau? Which one do you love more?" A few inches of rope slid through his hands, drawing screams from both captives.

Logically, Remy knew who he should grab. Rogue was invulnerable. She could fly. She was superstrong and could be out of the ropes in only a moment. Ian would die if he dropped from this height. However, he couldn't get the dream to reflect this. He had one chance, and he could only save one of them. He tossed the jewel at Creed's feet, lunging past him. Maybe, just maybe, if he moved fast enough...

It wasn't to be. Creed blocked him just a moment too long as he let the ropes go. Remy's fingers closed around only one of the ropes. He looked down from the tower, catching sight of wide, panicked green eyes...

...and jerked awake in bed, breathing hard and clenching his teeth. His jaw ached from holding back a scream. Turning over, he jammed a pillow down on top of his head, trying to block out the dream and trying not to think about the fact that he had chosen one over the other.

He just wasn't sure who.

Various E-mails

Sat, 16 Apr 2005 01:44:44 GMT

Everyone,

Just wanted to drop you all a note that Miss Munroe and I will be gone this weekend. We'll be back by Monday, though, so it doesn't mean you get out of homework.

--Remy

Jean,

We need to talk.

--Remy

Bobby,

Je suis idiot. Je suis idiot grande.

And no, before you start worrying, this is something completely different. I...I really need this weekend away to get my head put back together. Kick shit around in the Danger Room on Monday or Tuesday?

-Remy

E-mail to Bobby

Thu, 14 Apr 2005 16:48:29 GMT

Bobby,

I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I talked to Henri and he thought you'd want to know.

I'm not going to look for him. I don't even know if that's the right decision, but I've destroyed far too much for him to begin with. If he finds me and asks, or if Scott ordered me to tell him, I'll do it. But I won't try to find him in order to tell the story.

--Remy

Journal Entry

Tue, 12 Apr 2005 16:11:07 GMT

I will not feel guilty because of the things I cannot change.

I will not feel guilty for needing time to deal with Ian.

I will not feel guilty for needing time to deal with Rogue.

I will not feel guilty for being relieved that Scott didn't make me leave.

I will not feel guilty for needing time away from the school.

I will not feel guilty because Ororo has offered me a way out, even for a little while.

I will not feel guilty for not knowing Nina's name.

I will not berate myself for letting my ribs stay that way as long as they were.

I could not have stopped Mystique. I could not save Nina. I could not save the Morlocks.

I...

I need to talk to Bobby. Or Kitty. Or just...someone. Can't talk to Scott, we'll both just get drunk again.

I have a home here. I have allies in 'Ro and Kitty and Rogue and Scott.

I will not let this happen again.

Journal Entry: In Bed

Tue, 05 Apr 2005 17:56:41 GMT

So, the president is safe. Mystique is out of the office and now we wait to see how things pan out. It may never get out that the president was 'kidnapped', but I don't know that anything is going to change. Even with Mystique under wraps, Hatcher is still a mutant-hating bastard who would have put that legislation through anyway. I don't know if this is actually going to change anything.

Then again, Cyke and Emma took the president out to the drop-off point themselves, so who knows what happened? I don't think Cyke would condone of Emma doing something to the President's head, but Emma's sly and could have done it without his knowing. Maybe.

I can almost agree with Emma, though. Anything to keep the students safe.

Managed to get out of the fighting with two cracked ribs and a whole hell of a lot of bruises. It's making sitting interesting. It's also making standing, leaning, sleeping, walking, getting dressed--just about anything that requires movement or bending--VERY interesting. You never know how much you use some muscles until you've injured them.

Jean got more seriously injured. She's still down in the infirmary. I'll have to go down and at least stick my head in, say hi. If I can catch her without Cyke around. According to Henri, that might be more challenging.

Bobby's coming home. God, I miss Ice-for-brains. Not that I'm going to tell him that. Much.

On a completely different note, had a very uncomfortable dinner with Ian and Rogue in my room. Rogue brought up the last of the jambalaya and we were sitting on my bed, talking, when Ian showed up. The kids had apparently been back for an hour and he comes to see me at exactly the worst time possible. How's that for timing? I think he thinks there's something between Rogue and me still. I don't agree with him, though. Rogue and I will always be friends. We've been through too much, know too much about each other not to be. On the other hand, I don't think that we're ever going to get back to the place we were at before Seattle. Or maybe we can and I just don't want to get hurt again. Rogue is one of the few people I would have laid myself straight open for and she said no.

I...don't know that I feel the same way about Ian that I used to about Rogue. Or that I do feel about Rogue. Or...something like that. God, I'm writing myself around in circles now. I know that I care about Ian. I care about everyone in the Mansion. My teammates are as close as family. I call 'Ro my sister sometimes and it's a fairly good description of our connection. She says that she would follow me if I were made to leave. I believe her. Everyone else is closer to cousins, with some closer than others, of course. And the kids...I love the kids. I would anything to protect them and I can only hope that I keep having the chance.

But what if I do? I mean, care about Ian the same way that I did about Rogue. ~~That I~~ And herein lies the problem. I don't even know how I feel about Rogue. How can I figure out how I feel about Ian as well? I'm sounding like a damned teenager.

I need to give Ian an answer. He deserves better than to be waiting on me to try to wrestle this around. And, unfortunately, this all needs more than just a few days for me to think about. To come to terms with. I'll talk to him after class today. I'll tell him then. I'll always be his friend, but for now...for now, that'll have to be good enough.

And here I thought being bisexual meant never having to be confused about your sexuality.

Journal: Xavier's, after the briefing

Sat, 02 Apr 2005 21:41:40 GMT

The president is somewhere in the Mojave desert. Kitty got a lock on him. They're moving, but that's to be expected. Kitty will be with her Wisdom and Emma in Washington. The rest of us are going after the president.

I just want this done. I want to get back to life. I want to get back to teaching. That last...surprises me, quite a bit. I like the kids. I like having them around. It gets loud but...things are too quiet around here. April Fool's Day and no pranks. Nobody feels much like laughing and we need that right now.

I still don't know what I'm going to do about Ian, but...the letters are all written. One is there for him. If something happens to me, I at least want to let him know that it was all right. The kiss, I mean. I don't know about anything else.

Guess if I die tomorrow, anything else doesn't really matter, does it?

No. I won't think like that. Mattie said that things would be all right. She had Poppa send the bed and all. She said it would all work out. I trust her.

It will all work out.

It has to.