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Warnings: Mature themes throughout the story, dealing with rape, torture and the psychological traumas of imprisonment in a concentration camp. Sexually explicit scene in Chapter 23.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Author's Notes



Sinister gazes down on the young couple, noting the man's arm draped across the woman's waist as if holding on to a lifeline. Notices, too, Rogue's fingers reflexively stroking Remy's hair. Only in sleep do they succumb to the true intimacy of lovers. Quiet sighs. Reassuring touches. The unconscious awareness--the rightness—of being with each other.

If their affections stir any depth of emotion in Sinister, it isn't reflected in his icy appraisal of the situation. His eyes flick to the Genoshan collar. His lips curl into a chill, satisfied smile. For all of its technical innovations, it is still, after all, a mechanical device. And, as with all mechanical devices, subject to failure--or manipulation.

A flash of his long fingers, and the collar is readjusted to his requirements via an upgraded biochemical chip. Rogue flinches in her sleep. Sinister's smile warms slightly to one of tolerance as he considers his latest Adam and Eve. He feels suddenly drawn to Rogue, overwhelmed by an urgent need to touch her. His lips brush hers before he realizes with a laugh that he's reacting to the pheromones the modified collar induces. If even he can be affected, then he's confident that his specimens will likewise react. As predicted.

Remy wakes slowly to the comfortable warmth and softness of a woman's breast beneath his cheek, a woman's fingers resting lightly against his thigh. By her deep, even breathing, he knows that she is still fast asleep. Memories stir, faintly distant. He braces for an onslaught of images that never comes. He remembers New Genosha as one half-remembers the nightmares of childhood. Vaguely, without detail.

He opens his eyes, finding himself face to face with the woman responsible for his release, overcome with a gratitude beyond words. Rogue sighs, then snuggles closer, letting her thigh rub against his. He considers waking her. Seeing the shadows under her eyes, he bites back his own discomfort at her close proximity to let her rest.

Jus' Rogue.

Remy suppresses a smile at her unconscious intimacy. Any lingering thoughts of gratitude are quickly replaced by a surge of desire. He chokes back a groan as his body responds to Rogue's with an intense erection. Again, he considers waking her. Instead, he contents himself with moving her hand lower, letting her fingers close lightly around his shaft. He keeps his hand over hers as he drifts back into sleep.

Ororo enters Remy's room, silently chiding herself for abandoning him in his time of need. She carefully balances a breakfast tray as she saunters across the room and sets it down on the bureau. She opens the curtains wide, flooding the bedroom with sunlight.

Instantly, groans of disapproval sound from the bed. Ororo turns, appraising the situation. She watches as Rogue and Remy slowly waken in each other's arms. Remy scowls at her cheerfulness. Without apology, Ororo silently consents to closing the curtains and leaving the room.

Remy stretches, then focuses his attention on a still-drowsy Rogue. She wakes suddenly, bolting upright, hands frantically clawing the sheets away from her body. She gasps for air. Remy understands instantly. When she absorbed him, she absorbed the memory of suffocating from the burning lime of the New Genoshan pits.

"Don't leave me!"

She absorbed his terror at being left behind. He embraces her tightly, as another, who did not survive, once held him. Her fingers tighten with need, just as his must have.


He feels her shuddering gasp.

"...mah baby..."

He watches as she slides her hands across her stomach. She frowns. He sees the confusion in her eyes as she glances up at him uncertainly.

"They shot her."


"And--your baby?!"

Reluctantly, he nods.


Rogue's hand slips to his.

"Ah understand. Ain't that what ya wanted from me, Remy? Understandin'? Acceptance? Lovin' ya no matter what?"

"She was de only t'ing I had t'hold onto, chere."

Rogue kisses the tears from his cheeks. She brushes his lips lightly, then lets her mouth travel down his chest and belly. Her tongue laps gently at the criss-cross of scars until she feels the sudden tension in his body. She pauses at the curling patch of pubic hair just below his navel. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Remy's fingers tighten in the sheets, knuckles turning white from the effort.

Her palm cups his flesh, feeling the slightly raised scars that remind him of the pain that was inflicted. He flinches.

"Ain't ya the one sayin' that your grandmere used ta kiss your hurtin' away?"

She opens her mouth, drawing him into her warmth. He flinches from her touch again. Rogue looks up. Eyes closed, Remy has his face turned to the pillow, the strain of his effort to submit to her attentions clearly showing. Sensing an unexpected pause, his eyes snap open to meet hers. For a moment, she glimpses the hesitation and fear, before he throws her a weak grin.

"Don' 'member grandmere ever kissin' like dat, eh?"

Rogue frowns, considering the situation. She remembers a comment Wolverine made about men being aroused by sight, while women were stimulated by touch. She presses her palms experimentally on Remy's chest.

"Does that hurt?"

"'Course not."

"Ya think ya can take my weight?"

A spark of interest lights his eyes. Part of him is confounded at the sudden turn of events. The other part, the instinctive part, doesn't give a damn. He wants her. And she's here. He runs his palm playfully across her smooth, muscular midriff. She shivers unexpectedly.

"Depends. Y'been layin' off dat fried chicken?"

She gives him an icy glare, causing him to chuckle. Even subdued, his laughter stirs an ache in her heart. She straddles his chest, careful until she's certain he can support her without strain. Remy grins, enjoying the view. Rogue starts to peel her nightshirt off, but he catches her hands. Rogue hesitates.

He slips his palms to her waist, sliding his hands along her skin as he strips her of the shirt. His fingertips trace the fullness of her breasts as if memorizing them. He lets his fingers fall to her thighs, brushing a strand of dark auburn hair which curls from beneath her silk underwear.

The scent of her desire stirs his blood. Still tentative, he tugs the fabric aside just far enough to get a good taste of her. Rogue's gasp of pleasure electrifies his senses. She squirms. He flicks his tongue again.

He's rewarded with the sight of Rogue's body arching to encourage his endeavours. For a long moment, he revels in the sight of her aroused. Eyes closed. Flush of color from her face to her throat to the tips of her nipples. Her lips part, anticipating a kiss. He delivers.



Reluctantly, Rogue moves back, causing him to look up.

"Please, Remy, let me pleasure ya."

"Ah, chere, you doin' all dat an' more."

"Ah want ya, sugah. Ah need ya--ah need the taste of ya. Trust me, hon."

She kisses his throat, licking then sucking the soft skin. She nips his earlobe. Then, her soft breath caresses his skin as she whispers words of comfort—and desire. Remy LeBeau succumbs to the bliss of the moment. He had forgotten so much. Given up on so much during his imprisonment on New Genosha.

The simplest of comforts. A bed. A shower. As much food as he cares to eat. The knowledge that the woman he loves, loves him in return. It is that knowledge which gives him the courage to give in to Rogue's attentions.

Rogue stirs. When Remy opens his eyes, he sees that she has removed her panties and changed her position. He's greeted by the sight of her softly curving backside and firm thighs. He feels her breasts on his groin and braces himself as she takes him in her hands, then her mouth.

"Mon Dieu..."

Rogue looks over her shoulder with a wicked grin.

"Ah'll take that as a compliment."

In response, Remy grabs her hips and yanks, causing Rogue's weight to slip from her elbows to the full length of his body. She laughs in surprise and delight as the bed responds to their movements. Her laughter quickly turns to soft moaning as Remy's lips open her tight, warm skin to his taste. His tongue quickly finds the surge of moisture he seeks.

"I take dat as a compliment, n'est-ce pas, chere?"

He winks. Rogue nods, breathless. He wonders, not for the first time, what it might be like to spend a lifetime with this woman. A smile plays on his lips. He wonders what it might be like to watch Rogue's body swell with the life of their child. A brief remembrance of pain. His firstborn is lost to him. Forever.


The concern in Rogue's green eyes touches him.

"Y'ever t'ink 'bout havin' chillen?"

It's a difficult subject for her. He can see that in the way she chews her lip, thinking.

"Ah think about it. Sometimes."

"Y'ever t'ink 'bout havin' chillen--wit' me?"

"Ya know that ain't--"

She bites back sudden tears. Without warning, Rogue scurries from the bed. Immediately, Remy follows, catching her before she can escape. He's surprised by the anger brightening her eyes.

"Ah thought ya were done hatin' me."

"Eh?! Rogue, no, dat ain't what I--chere? Mignonne?"

She turns her face away. Silence. He presses his body to hers; she doesn't resist. His lips, his fingers again seek her out, finding renewed pleasure in her response to his knowing caresses. His cheek rubs hers.

"You ev't'ing t'me, mon amour. Ev't'ing."

Grudgingly, Rogue gives in to his touch. She parts her legs, then cries out as he enters her. Her mouth seeks his even as her hands move to draw him deeper inside. He slips a finger between them. Her gasp as he strokes her is answered by his own muffled groan. His lips break from hers.

"Say it, Roguie, jus' for me."

"...ain't possible for me..."

"If it were--"

"Ah'd love--oh--ta have your--children!"

He rolls her onto the floor, pinning her down in a mock wrestling move.


"Ah said so, didn't ah?"

He thrusts deeper, feeling her muscles tighten, then withdraws. He savors this moment, letting the reality of once again holding Rogue in his arms wash away the lingering traces of New Genosha. His eyes catch hers as he enters her again. His lips drop to her throat, even as his fingers again find her breast. He groans with pleasure.

"Rogue--don' t'ink I c'n--hmph!"

A wave of ecstacy crashes over him, and he succumbs completely. Rogue smiles, holding him close as he shudders from the passion of his release. His ragged breathing slows, then steadies. His body relaxes against hers. Rogue tilts his chin to hers, a glimmer of amusement lighting her eyes.

"Ya were sayin'?"

He grins sheepishly.

"Don' t'ink I c'n control m'self."

She chuckles.

"Do tell."

"Y't'ink dat funny, eh, girl?"


"Show you hysterical..."

He kisses his way down her body, gives her a quick nibble on the thigh, then lets his tongue lap her wetness. He feels her tense beneath his mouth. Her fingers stroke his hair as her body arches under his efforts.


"Jus' gettin' good, chere."

A stab of pain cramps her body. Her hands tighten on his shoulders.

"Ah mean it, Cajun!"

He glances up, surprised to see her eyes again wet with tears. She rolls onto her side, doubled-over. He stretches out beside her, gently pulling her body to his. Concern darkens his eyes. He rubs a palm soothingly across her back.



"Y'sure dat necessary?"


"Mais oui."

He kisses her shoulder, covers her with the comforter, then leaves to find the X-men's resident medic.


Continued in Chapter 24.


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