TITLE: Stacked Deck

SUMMARY: Rogue. Remy. Vignettes.

RATING: K+

DISCLAIMER: I just enjoy playing in other peoples' sandboxes. While making money off this would be nice, it's not happening. Everything you recognize (and maybe even some things you don't) belongs to Marvel.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Apparently, I have absolutely no respect at all for timeline or continuity , a ficlet set during "Cajun Spice". Dedicated to Scribble, who requested it once upon a time.


For a while, she'd actually thought there'd been something there.

She'd managed to get past the kidnapping and their violent confrontation in the train. They'd even talked some to the point where she had been growing less and less leery of him. Hell, the two of them had even made a fairly good team taking on the Rippers at the jazz club.
Rogue had even been willing to give him the benefit of a doubt with the whole crime family thing too. She didn't come from an exactly perfect pedigree herself. He'd been right; the two of them had been down the same roads.

And then she absorbed him, and everything she'd believed fell apart.

She paces restlessly by the edge of Bloodmoon Bayou now - just out of the sightlines of the cameras, of course – with his betrayal fresh and cutting. It plays over and over in her head: you're not a friend, he used you. You're not a friend, you're a way in.

But as she paces, his memories sort themselves a little more.
Jean-Luc's a rank bastard. He'd scooped a very young Remy up off the streets of New Orleans and proceeded to make him a tool for the Guild. There's no real affection, just a recognition of an asset. The sense of obligation that drives Remy back is screwed up, and Remy knows it. He doesn't like it. He does it anyways. He's got to help his father because it's either that or leave him at the mercy of the Rippers.

Rogue bites her lip.

He might be manipulative and cruel, but in his own weird way Remy just might be a better son than she ever was a daughter. None of this excuses him for anything, but it explains him. He does bad things for a living. This particular bad thing, however, is towards as good an end as he can conceive.
Rogue looks up to the Rippers' house. Searching through the pieces of Remy's mind that she now has, she knows it's safe to say he's doing something reckless and stupid. From what she knows thanks to the Rippers she's absorbed, Remy's more than likely not going to make it out okay on his own.
She quits pacing. Growling, and sounding eerily like Logan for a second, Rogue kicks viciously at the ground.

She starts running up towards the house at full tilt.

The idiot's going to need a hand.