SUMMARY:  Gambit/Joseph/Rogue.  Adult material, explicit sexual
content.  Both Gambit and Joseph are used to having problems that
keep them from finding true intimacy with Rogue.  But what happens
when the two men decide to collaborate?

NOTES:  Credit for pushing me into writing this goes to Jane of
Shadows (shemar@mindspring.com).  If her fascination goes further,
there may be a sequel or sequels to this story.  Please feel free
to bug her over it.  ;)

ARCHIVE:  Please.  As often as possible, and wherever you like.


Confusing The Issue, by Mercutio (mercutio@europa.com)


"We both knew what we wanted, 
 and we took it believing it free..."
-- Sarah MacLachlan


     "'Allo, Joseph," Gambit said quietly into the darkness
surrounding the small grove of trees.  He sat perched on one of the
railings of the gazebo.  He had been staring quietly up at the
stars when he first sensed the approach of the other mutant, his
rival for the hand of the woman he loved.  Or thought he loved.
     "Gambit," Joseph acknowledged curtly.  "I apologize for
intruding.  I did not realize that you were already here."
     He had turned to go when Remy spoke.  "Dat's all right. 
You're not intruding."
     White eyebrows raised.  "I think that I am."
     "Non.  Remy come out here to share de night wit' de stars.  No
reason not to share it wit' you, too.  'Sides," he added shrewdly,
"Remy t'ink dat you got your own reasons for coming out here, no? 
Maybe some darkness inside you like de darkness inside me."
     "Under the circumstances, I don't think that you and I are
appropriate confidantes for each other."
     "Neh.  We de perfect pair.  Nobody want to talk to us, an' we
both got too much inside t'tell anyone about.  Too much t'not talk
about, but den, dere's not'ing we can do about dat, is there, mon
ami?"
     Joseph had paused, and now stood next to the gazebo, outside
it, looking at the stars instead of Gambit.  "And what about
Rogue?" he asked, in a voice that was both wary and fierce.  "Are
you going to attack me again?"
     Gambit shrugged eloquently, a gesture that would have garnered
full marks from any panel of gymnastics judges.  "Not going
t'attack you.  Roguie's made her choice and dis Cajun know better
now dan to try t'change her mind.  But Remy t'ink dat mebbe he not
de only one with' lady problems."
     Joseph looked up sharply at that remark, but Gambit seemed
fully occupied with lighting a cigarette.  "What do you know? -- or
think you know?"
     "Gambit don't know not'ing," the other man said in a voice too
carefully neutral of pain and bitterness.  "Not'ing at all.  Just
t'ought it be strange dat you wandering out here alone on a
beautiful night when you could be inside wit' a beautiful lady. 
Don't need to tell me anyt'ing 'bout dat.  Gambit mind his own
business.  And you and Rogue not it."
     "Fine."  Joseph leaned back against the white painted wood.
     Long silence passed, as the pair observed the slow, careful
movements of the stars.  Joseph made no move to speak, and Remy
smoked one cigarette after another, snuffing out the butts and
stowing them away in one of the many pockets in his jacket.
     Gambit stretched and stood, balancing on the railing, then
leaped lightly down.  The darkness and silence had enclosed them in
an almost companionable bubble.  "Tell you dis, t'ough -- I know
what it's like to be on de outside just de same as you do.  An'
Gambit don't like it neit'er.  I respect you for trying t'stay here
and be on de inside even when nobody wants you."
     "How much effort could that be?" Joseph asked sardonically. 
"You've done the same."
     "'Xactly.  An' it's hard, non?"
     Joseph regarded his long-time rival, then nodded.  "Yes, it's
hard."
     Gambit held out his hand.  "Remy sorry dat he harass you
before.  I know better dan dat.  Been harassed myself.  An' you and
Roguie -- de better man won, and Gambit just gonna have t'accept
dat, dat's all.  Don't know dat you and me can be friends, but at
least we don't need t'be enemies, non?"
     Joseph regarded the outstretched hand with caution, but as it
was empty, he took it and shook it.  Nothing untoward happened --
Gambit met him with a solid clasp and let his hand go.  "Thank you,
Gambit."
     "You're welcome."
     Joseph felt a sudden surge of feeling for the former thief. 
His main reason for not liking Gambit was the man's own animosity
for him.  That the animosity came from Gambit's feelings about
Rogue had not mitigated Joseph's feelings, as it was Gambit's
actions and attitude that disturbed him.  He could understand the
other man's jealousy; he did not understand his possessive anger. 
And yet, they shared some things in common.  They were indeed both
outsiders amongst the X-Men -- men with checkered pasts who were on
the side of evil as often as the side of good.  Joseph, in fact, if
his identity as Magneto were true, had more to atone for than
LeBeau ever could.  A weight of past evil that hung over their
souls and shadowed them even in the brightest light.  Even in the
sun of Rogue's love.
     A sun that, he had learned that night, did not shine for him. 
"She loves you, you know."
     "Excuse moi?"
     He steeled himself and repeated his words.  "Rogue loves you."
     Gambit shrugged.  "So de chere has some feelings still.  Dat's
nice of her, dat she hasn't forgotten me completely."
     "No," Joseph said.  "She *loves* you.  Not me.  You."
     Gambit's body shifted into a tense, guarded posture, but his
tone remained light.  "You had a quarrel den?  Not a problem.  In
de morning, t'ings all seem better.  Just remember t'apologize when
you get back -- 'specially if you were right."
     "Is this some attempt at being noble?"
     "What?"
     "Your refusal to hear what I'm telling you."  He met Gambit's
eyes until those red eyes dropped to the ground.
     "Non.  Gambit just know dat men and women fight, and den dey
make up and t'ings get better.  Rogue not gonna stop loving you
just because you got angry wit' each ot'er, whatever she said
t'you."
     Joseph hesitated, the urge within him to stay silent and keep
his feelings -- an odd thing for a former supervillain to have at
all -- to himself quite strong.  But he felt an equal need to have
someone, anyone, understand what was going on.  And damn it, if he
were going to beat Gambit up for this, the man deserved to at least
know why first.  "It wasn't one fight.  The situation's been like
this since we started making love."
     A small explosion resounded, and Joseph saw two halves of a
burnt card floating to the ground.  "What the--?"
     "Gambit only a man, Joseph," a dark voice said.  "An' some
t'ings too painful t'hear. Comprenez-vous?"
     He nodded.  "Yes.  I apologize.  I meant that the problem is
a long-standing one."
     "Do I need t'hear dis?" Gambit asked, shuffling and
reshuffling his cards.  His voice was still under his control, but
his rapidly moving hands betrayed his strain.
     "I think I need to tell you."
     "Fine den.  Whatever."  He leaned back against the gazebo, his
posture mirroring Joseph's, as if consciously forcing himself to
relax.
     "Our relationship -- my relationship with Rogue -- isn't
working out.  I... I care for her, but I think the only reason she
wants me at all is because she can touch me safely.  My magnetic
powers allow her to touch someone without her needing to be as
vulnerable as other methods of negating her absorption powers would
make her.  Her interest in me is, I believe, purely sexual." 
Gambit tensed, and Joseph went on, "She loves you.  I'd say that
she was merely satisfying herself with me because she can, if it
weren't that she seems so starved for any kind of physical contact.
It's special to her, and I can't help caring about her even if,"
his voice trailed off, and then returned, strengthened, as he
turned and clenched his hands around the railing, "if what she's
really doing is simply using me as a safe alternative to the man
she really wants."
     "Rogue's not a user," Gambit observed in a dispassionate
voice.  "De girl sensitive to dat -- her powers make her a user and
she don't like dat."
     "That's what I thought.  It only makes the situation more
difficult for me."
     "Gambit can see dat."  He shuffled the cards again and
replaced them in their box.  "What do you want Gambit t'do about
it?"
     "Is there anything that any of us can do?  Besides hurt
because the one we love isn't the one who wants to or can be with
us?"
     "Gambit don't know."
     "I don't either."
     They stood there a while longer before Gambit extinguished his
cigarette.  "I t'ink I know where t'find some brandy if you're
willing t'drink it.  It's traditional t'drown your sorrows in
liquor, non?"
     Joseph considered.  He didn't care to drink, because being
drunk was to lose control, but on the other hand, neither did he
wish to risk the fragile understanding between himself and Gambit
that had been formed this evening.  "I think it is."

****

     Gambit sat in the windowseat, windows open to let in the cool
night breeze, a half-full glass in his hand.  Joseph sat on
Gambit's bed, another glass in his.  Gambit was halfway to being
under the influence, and Joseph was halfway to needing to be
carried back to his room.
     Except that he didn't seem to want to go back to his room, for
the reason that Rogue was already sleeping there.
     "Mon ami, why not?"
     Joseph shrugged.  "I left because I couldn't stay, and now I
can't go back."
     "Dat really makes sense," Gambit said, meaning it
sarcastically, but without any edge to his voice.
     "Right," Joseph agreed with the perfect equanimity of the no
longer sober.  "I knew you'd understand."
     "Why can't you go back?"
     "Because I've been drinking.  She'd know and ask what I was
doing."
     "If you don't go back, she's going t'wake up alone, and den
she'll know dat you were doing somet'ing."
     "That's different."
     Gambit laughed, a low rich laugh that rumbled warmly through
him.  Somehow everything seemed more understandable now, with some
brandy in him, and with this newfound agreement with Joseph.  "Not
dat different.  Where you gonna sleep?"
     Joseph considered him for a long moment, then laid back on the
bed, the glass tilting with him.  "Here."
     "And just where is Gambit supposed t'sleep?" Remy asked,
amused.
     "Here?" came the ingenuous suggestion.
     Remy laughed again at the display of drunken logic.  "You've
had too much t'drink, mon ami.  Dat's enough for you."  He got down
from the window seat and bent over Joseph to extricate the glass
from his hand.  "Give dat to Remy."
     "I'm fine.  I'll be fine."
     "Mebbe.  Mebbe not."  Remy looked at Joseph, stubbornly
holding onto the glass and sighed.  No, the other man wasn't going
to give in easily.  And he was in no mood for a fight.  Smiling
deliberately, he pulled on his charm powers.  "Just give Remy de
glass and let him take care of it for you.  Okay?"
     "All right."  The glass slid easily away from now-loosened
fingers, and Remy set it out of reach.
     A hand caught at his leg as Gambit stood.  "What?" he asked,
turning back to Joseph's reclining figure.
     "Don't go."
     "Dis is Gambit's room.  Where do you expect him to go?" Gambit
asked reasonably, coming back to Joseph and sipping on his brandy. 
He sat down on the side of the bed, feeling his legs sigh in relief
as they relaxed.  *Maybe I should stop drinking too.*
     "Remy--"
     Joseph sat up, and Gambit drew back, expecting a mad dash to
the bathroom to throw up or perhaps an attempt at reacquiring the
glass of brandy.  What he did not expect was Joseph leaning forward
to capture his mouth in a kiss.
     If there were truth to any of the rumors surrounding Gambit,
the rumor about him being a consummate flirt was the truest.  He
could no more resist an invitation to dalliance than he could a
game of cards.  At least, not with his defenses down and his heart
as lonely and cold as a barren Antarctic afternoon.  He returned
the kiss with passion, imagining for a moment that he was cared
for, that he was being kissed with love, with true wanting, and for
a moment losing himself in that illusion.
     Then he drew back.  "Not dat Gambit's complaining," he said
mildly, watching Joseph's face for some sign that the man realized
what he'd just done, "but he don't t'ink dat Gambit's really de
person you wanted to kiss.  Mebbe we get you back t'your own bed
now?"
     Rogue was not going to be happy if she woke up and caught him
assisting Joseph into bed -- she would most likely assume the
worst, that he had gotten Joseph drunk for some nefarious purpose,
such as humiliating the other man.  Gambit could live with that. 
He'd lived with a lot of misunderstanding of his intentions.
     "I kissed you because I want you," Joseph said.
     For a moment, Gambit almost believed that.  But the person
saying it was simply too impossible.  The more likely explanation
came to his mind.  "You're reacting t'de charm powers, homme.  Not
what you really want.  C'mon, I'll help you get up."
     "No," Joseph said stubbornly, "I want you."
     Gambit shook his head.  "Dey always say dat.  An' den in de
morning, dey say 'how could you?' and dat I take advantage of dem. 
Non, Gambit not going t'let you do dat to yourself."
     Joseph attempted to stare him down, failed, and then nodded
sadly.  "I don't believe you."  He extended a hand.  "But if you
could help me up, I'll leave."
     His tone conveyed the infinite pain of rejection, and Gambit
sighed as he helped the other man to his feet.  "Aww, don't do dat,
mon ami.  Dere's not'ing wrong wit' you.  Dis just what's going
t'be the best t'ing in de morning.  You'll see.  You won't even be
able t'look at Gambit t'morrow."
     "And if you're wrong?"
     "Gambit not wrong.  Trust me."
     He wrapped Joseph's arm around his shoulder, and successfully
walked him down the hall to his own room.  Contrary to Joseph's
prediction, Rogue was not in the bed, for which Gambit was
grateful.  He pulled the blankets further back and helped Joseph
lie down.  Joseph's eyes were closing even as Gambit released him.
     Sighing again, Remy slipped off Joseph's shoes and then pulled
the blankets up over him.
     Instead of leaving immediately, he stood in the shadows of the
dark room, watching Joseph sleep.  *Dis only complicates matters,*
he thought.  *Don't know what any of us are going to do now.*

****

     By the dint of rising unnaturally early and using his thiefly
skills, Gambit managed to avoid both Rogue and Joseph the next
morning.  He could not, however, avoid himself.
     Seated in the curve of a tree, he stared up at the unnaturally
bright sky -- fortunately dimmed by his sunglasses -- and wondered
yet again what exactly it was that life had against him.  Life
wasn't fair -- he understood that.  But sometime the luck had to
break his way.  Didn't it?  The percentage was on the side of the
house, but there was such a thing as luck, wasn't there?
     A stupid question to ask yourself when you knew that the only
way to guarantee winning was to cheat.  When you'd spent much of
your life learning how to cheat and how to get away with it.
     He dreaded facing Rogue and Joseph again.  Not because he knew
what would happen.  But because every possible situation he could
imagine was bad.  Maybe Joseph had told Rogue about last night, and
now Rogue had yet one more thing to hold against him.  She wouldn't
appreciate Joseph telling Gambit that she loved him, especially if
it were true, and she wouldn't appreciate anything else that had
happened last night earlier, like Joseph getting drunk or the kiss.
And then there was Joseph.  Gambit decided that, if a punch was
forthcoming, he would take it.  Getting hit might trigger some
survival instinct that he was obviously currently lacking.
     The real issue was how to handle things.  Did he slink back
into the house at dinner and hope the whole thing had blown over? 
Pull a Logan and disappear for a month?  Pretend that nothing had
happened?  Ridicule Joseph if the matter were broached?  Sit in the
tree 'til he starved?
     Gambit shuffled his cards, wishing he hadn't run out of
cigarettes.  The half-empty pack he'd brought with him hadn't
lasted long enough, and now he was faced with going back to the
mansion if he wanted more.
     Was nicotine worth braving the dangers of the mansion?
     He reshuffled the cards.
     He didn't know what he felt anymore.  Exhaustion, betrayal, an
ever-present darkness of spirit... these were the things coloring
his personality now, and they weren't feelings.  His feelings were
buried too deeply to trust, hidden away because feeling hurt too
much and gave him too little.
     Gambit swung himself down from the tree.  Time to return to
the mansion.  He couldn't face these thoughts without nicotine, and
would have preferred to put them aside entirely for some more
physical form of expression.  But the Danger Room was not
available, no crisis seemed imminent, and there was no one he felt
able to tolerate enough to battle.  Not this morning.
     Avoiding the inside of the mansion, Remy easily scaled the
side of the house and slipped into his room.  He grabbed a new pack
of cigarettes and threw out the old one, cleaning his pocket of
butts as he did so.
     Hiding in the woods no longer seemed appealing, and if one of
the people he'd been avoiding found him, well, the resulting
confrontation would only be what he deserved.  Gambit slipped out
onto the roof, curling his legs under himself and lighting one of
the cigarettes.
     Rogue found him there, flying up to hover across from him. 
"Remy, Ah want to talk to you."
     "Den talk, chere."
     "It's about Joseph."
     Gambit kept himself from stiffening from long practice at not
showing his reactions outwardly, although he knew that this would
be the conversation he had been dreading.  She knew what had
happened last night, and would scold him for encouraging Joseph to
drink, tallying up yet another reason why he was no good for her. 
"An'?"
     She sat down beside him on the roof.  "He's been acting
strange lately.  Ah don't know what to do about him.  Last night,
he left our room after he thought Ah was asleep -- Ah'm not sure he
wants me anymore."
     That wasn't quite what he'd expected to hear.  "Mebbe you
should talk t'him about dis, p'tite."
     "Ah've *tried*," she said, frustrated.  "Don't you think Ah
wouldn't try?  He just says it's not mah fault and there's nothing
wrong.  And Ah know that there is.  Ah'm not dumb."
     Gambit sighed.  So she was only guessing that something was
going on.  For a moment, he felt tempted to tell Rogue the truth,
and then went with a safe answer.  "What do you t'ink is wrong?"
     She glanced at him sideways before looking out at the same
landscape he was currently surveying.  "Ah don't think he really
wants me.  As a woman, you know."
     He swallowed hard.  If this were anyone else, he'd be gone,
away from her, no longer listening to the discussion.  He was a
person, damnit, a man who loved this woman, and the last thing he
wanted to do was to take part in this conversation, to do the right
thing and cement the relationship between her and his rival.  But
he wanted her happiness most of all, and that was the important
thing.  Wasn't it?  "You're sleeping t'gether -- don't you know dat
he wants you?"
     She shook her head, and then insinuated her gloved hand into
his.  "That's just it, sugah.  He can't want me -- he can only keep
up the shield when he's concentratin', so Ah never get to do
anything for him.  Ah don't know if he wants me at all -- he nevah
gets turned on or anythin'."
     Gambit's mouth quirked into a wry smile.  "Chere, when a man
give up sex for a woman, he love her.  Trust Remy 'bout dis."
     "But Ah want to touch him.  Ah want to make a man go crazy
over me."
     He felt his fingers stroking hers as her hand rested in his,
and he forced himself to let her hand drop.  "Lots of men'd go
crazy over you."
     "Yeah, but Ah only want one."  She pulled away from him,
floating up from the roof.  "Guess Ah just can't make a
relationship work with anybody."
     She was gone before he could reply, and Gambit closed his
eyes.  He didn't feel tears in his eyes.  There was nothing in this
whole unfunny paradoxical triangle to make anyone laugh, and he
certainly would not be crying.  Not him.  Not Gambit.
     Remy wanted Rogue, but she wouldn't have him because she
couldn't touch him without absorbing his personality and self along
with her touch.  Rogue wanted to be touched, and so had acquired
Joseph, who could touch her -- but apparently that was not enough
because she could not touch him in return, not the way that she
wanted to.  And Joseph wanted Rogue and thought that he couldn't
have her because she loved Remy.
     Dear God.  It was enough to drive a sane man to drink.
     Gambit didn't move from his position on the roof.  An idea
struck him, and a tiny grin enlivened his face.  There could be a
solution to their problems.  If everyone in this little triangle
were sufficiently flexible and open-minded, everything could be
fixed -- he could have Rogue, Rogue could have Joseph, and Joseph
could have Rogue as well.  Of course, he'd have to share Rogue with
Joseph, and he didn't think the other man was up for the threesome
thing, even if he, Gambit, had the experience to appreciate such a
thing.  But wouldn't that be a tidy little way to solve things?
     He firmly stepped on the idea, and his smile disappeared. 
Things didn't happen that way.  No, their dance of pain would
continue until someone was mortally injured, in the heart where it
would hurt the worst.
     "Remy?" a voice called from the window.
     Gambit recognized it as belonging to Joseph and stubbed out
his cigarette.  Time to face his doom like a man.  He dropped down
to the window, perching on the sill.  "Dis be Remy."
     Joseph stood in front of the window seat, expression unhappy. 
"I wish I didn't have to say this--"
     *Here it comes,* Gambit thought, expecting anything from an
accusation to an attack.
     "Rogue's left me.  I'm not the better man, after all.  You've
got another chance with her now.  After last night -- after our
conversation last night -- I don't think I'll stand in your way. 
She loves you and you love her--"
     Taken off-guard by yet another unexpected turn of
conversation, Gambit chose to respect Joseph's desire to confide in
him, and observed quietly, "You love her, too, mon ami."
     "I know.  That only makes it more painful."  Joseph's
expression twisted.  "I want her to be happy.  And she wants you. 
She didn't say that, but I know that it's true nonetheless.  I love
her, and I have to let her go.  Remy, if I thought it would make
her happy I'd stand by the side of her bed and cast a field around
her while she had sex with *you*, that's how much I want her
happiness over my own.  I want her to have what she wants -- you."
     Gambit's expression was as pained as Joseph's.  "Dat be de
best of both worlds if Gambit could have Rogue an' hold her too. 
But dat's not fair to you, homme, even if you were serious 'bout de
offer.  'Preciate de t'ought though.  Gambit don't know dat de lady
is t'inking what you t'ink she's t'inking eit'er.  Not going t'kiss
and tell, but Gambit t'ink you could still work t'ings out wit'
her."
     Joseph shook his head sadly.  "No.  As strange as this may
sound considering our history, I-- I thought you and I connected
last night.  And I have few enough friends to risk even one for any
reason.  I'm not going to try to work this out with Rogue.  I'm
going to let her follow her heart."
     "Rogue didn't want me before, homme.  What makes you t'ink dat
she want me now?  She only want Gambit if she can touch him, and
she can't.  We both be losing if you don't fight for her, and Rogue
too, 'cause den she not have anybody t'love her."
     "Then let me help."
     "What you have in mind?"  Gambit looked at Joseph curiously,
then raised his hands.  "Oh, no.  Not dat.  You not going t'use
your powers t'make it possible for dis t'ief t'get Rogue.  Dat not
fair t'you."
     "It's fair if I say it's fair."
     "Dis gonna get real complicated real fast," Remy warned
Joseph, wondering why he was talking as though this crazy idea were
actually a possibility.  "It's hard enough t'manage a relationship
wit' two people in it -- t'ree people is even more difficult, not
easier."
     "Three people?  I was only talking about helping you and Rogue
to..."
     "I know what you said.  But Gambit t'ink he know somet'ing you
don't about de problems you been having, and dat he could help you
if he wanted.  An' he couldn't let you help him and not help you
too."
     Joseph began to look vaguely horrified, as though a new and
fascinating world had been opened to him, and one that he wasn't
sure he liked very much.  "Perhaps this isn't the best idea..."
     "Dat's what Gambit's been trying t'tell you.  Now, shoo.  Go
find Roguie and 'pologize."
     "I didn't do anything."
     "Wit' women, dat only makes it worse.  Shoo."
     Joseph shook his head.  "There's still something else we need
to discuss."
     *Shoulda known that this wouldn't be so easy.*  "Gambit's
listening."
     "About last night -- I'm sorry."
     "You're what?"
     "I'm sorry.  I rarely drink, and what happened must embarrass
you as much as it does me.  I-- I can only say that..." he looked
uncomfortable, "it's, uh, been a while for me, and you and I seemed
to have just made some kind of emotional connection, and then I did
something unwarranted.  And I am truly sorry for it."
     "Den you're not--"  Gambit cut himself off as he realized
where that sentence was going.
     "Not what?" Joseph asked curiously.
     Gambit threw up his mental hands and gave up on caution for
the day.  His love life couldn't get any worse than it was already.
"You really are attracted to me, den?"
     "I'd prefer to forget about last night."
     "'Cause if you are, den you ought t'know dat de only reason
Gambit stopped last night was dat you were drinking an' I t'ought
you wouldn't know what you were doing."
     Joseph drew himself back a bit.  "You love Rogue."
     "Sure I do.  But dat doesn't mean I've given up on loving
ot'er people too.  Rogue doesn't seem t'want me, y'know."
     "She does."
     Gambit shrugged.  "Not going t'argue dat wit' you, homme.  But
if you serious 'bout last night, den mebbe you don't have t'leave."
     "Why not?  I'm glad that we established some sort of
connection yesterday, but that's barely enough to base a friendship
on, let alone what you're suggesting."  Joseph's words spoke of
revulsion and rejection -- but he did not leave the room, and his
expression was guarded, as though there was something deeper here,
something that he wanted but was afraid to take.
     Gambit came in the window, stepped down from the windowseat
and stood, stretching languorously, a move that he knew showed off
many of the best points about his body.  "Mebbe dat's so.  Not
going t'argue dat eit'er.  But Gambit t'ink dat dere's one t'ing
dat neit'er of us is getting and dat both of us want."
     "What's that?" Joseph asked warily.
     His eyes had dilated as Gambit stretched; something that Remy
had not missed.  So, Joseph *was* interested?  Gambit stepped
closer to him, smiling blatantly now, one of his most heartstopping
smiles.
     "Sex, mon ami.  Sex."
     Joseph turned a dull red.  "I-- how do you know about that?" 
He turned a deeper red.  "Rogue told you, didn't she?"
     "Oui," he said, nodding.  "Don't hold it against her -- de
chere needed t'talk t'someone, and Gambit won't tell."
     "You just told *me*."
     "Gambit t'ink dat it relevant t'you an' me.  An' you already
know all about it."  He reached out a hand to Joseph, fingers
touching the cleft of his chin, then running down his neck,
caressing his chest and feeling down to his solid thigh.  "Don't
you?"
     "Um, yes."
     "So what do you want t'do?" Gambit asked, feeling his answer
in the way that Joseph pressed his body against Gambit's hand,
seeking more of that elusive touch.
     "This."  And Joseph took hold of Gambit's head, fastened his
lips over the other man's and kissed him fiercely.
     Gambit thought that Joseph was more taken off-guard by his
sudden action than Remy was himself.  Gambit, at least, had been
taunting Joseph with the idea and was mentally prepared for the
sudden influx of warmth and intimacy -- and need -- running between
their bodies.
     Joseph broke the kiss, startled to find his body intimately
entwined with the Cajun's, one of Gambit's legs thrust through his,
bodies chest to chest, and desperate wanting hardness up against a
hardness resonant with its own.  Gasping, he looked at Gambit,
desire muddling his vision.
     Remy seemed less affected, his hand on Joseph's cheek,
stroking it while he smiled knowledgeably.  "Gambit got no problem
wit' dis."
     "I should," Joseph said, fighting to find some semblance of
control inside himself, and instead finding lust rampaging through
him -- his body demanding that he pull Gambit down on the bed, pull
him down and cover himself with the other man.  "I'm certain I
should have a problem."
     Gambit's smile grew warmer.  Almost crooning, he said to
Joseph, "Dat's not what your body's telling me."
     "It's not what it's telling me either," Joseph admitted
frankly.  If he were as honest with himself as his body was being
with Gambit, he wanted this too much.  Not because he was
specifically attracted to Gambit -- although the man did give off
signals like a peacock flashing his feathers -- but because it had
been too long since he'd allowed himself to feel any sort of
desire.  He couldn't risk it, not with Rogue.  The magnetic shield
he could put up to protect him from her powers only worked when he
was concentrating.  And he could not concentrate properly when he
was at the mercy of his hormones.  To protect them both, he had
consciously forced himself not to feel anything sexual while around
Rogue.  To selflessly harness his desire for her in order to give
her the touching and physical contact that she so wanted.  But
here, with Gambit, it was safe to feel, and he felt, if anything,
too much.
     Remy kissed him, long fingers still cradling his face, and
Joseph began pulling at the other man's shirt, hands reaching under
it to feel the skin underneath.  To feel it for his own pleasure,
rather than because his touch gave pleasure to someone else.  It
was a relief, and freeing, to be able to feel without consequence,
and he put his hands on Remy's shoulders, pulling the duster off,
and then rapidly moving to open Gambit's shirt further so that he
could enjoy the skin below.
     "Mon ami, dere's no need to rush," Gambit rebuked him softly,
breaking off their kiss.  "Dere's plenty of time."
     Joseph met his eyes with some of the desperate need he felt,
wondering if Remy could read him better than he could read those
red pupils.
     "Or mebbe dere's not."  Gambit pulled his hands away from
Joseph and willingly stripped off his shirt, leaving his chest bare
for Joseph's further exploration.  "Dat better?"
     Joseph looked at the masculine chest before him, and wondered
for the first time, what his sexual orientation had been before he
had lost his memories.  He himself had no idea, but as he felt no
swell of revulsion looking at the swirl of hair over taut muscles
that he was currently seeing, he had obviously had nothing against
homosexuality.  Instead, he felt the desire he had not allowed
himself to feel with Rogue.
     He reached out to Gambit, letting his hands roam over the
other man's body, closing his eyes to better experience the
sensations running back to him through his palms and fingers.  Warm
skin that shivered under his touch.  Muscles that flexed in
interesting ways as his hands tightened on them.  The sensitive
spot he found at Gambit's navel that caused the Cajun to twitch and
yelp before grabbing Joseph's hand.
     "No more o'dat." Gambit said firmly, then with a mischievous
grin, "Your turn."
     Joseph felt confused for a moment, then Gambit's hands went to
his own shirt, helping him to remove it.  Regular work-outs and
basic genetics gave Joseph a body even more impressive than
Gambit's -- his frame ran to muscular upper-body strength, while
Remy was more wiry and less bulky.  Gambit showed every sign of
appreciating Joseph's body just as much as Joseph had appreciated
his, and Joseph felt compelled to ask, "You, then, are...
bisexual?"
     The question could have been awkward, and Joseph regretted
asking it as soon as it was out of his mouth.
     Gambit looked up quickly from his visual exploration of
Joseph's exposed skin and flashed white teeth.  "Gambit don't make
de distinction 'tween male an' female when it come t'sex.  Suppose
you call that being bisexual.  Gambit prefer de term ambisexual,
t'ough."
     Joseph thought that might have been a joke, intended to make
him laugh.  If so, he missed the point.  "I was only curious."
     "Not'ing wrong wit' dat."  Gambit smiled again, and then said
in a velvety, seductive voice.  "Dere's somet'ing dat Gambit's
curious about as well."
     "What's that?"
     "Dis."  With one fluid motion, Remy knelt before Joseph,
undoing the fastening of his trousers and reaching inside to free
Joseph's erection.
     Joseph found himself unable to do anything except breathe
heavily and try not to shove himself into Remy's sensitive hands. 
"My God."
     "Non -- but dat's a good guess."
     Joseph froze, eyes closing as Gambit began first licking at
his erection, and then took it inside his mouth.  "I don't think--"
his hands reached down to find Remy's head and stroke the other
man's hair with impatient, needy fingers, "I don't think I can take
very much of this."
     Remy's hands fastened on his buttocks, and squeezed,
encouraging Joseph.  He knew he could only stop himself from doing
this by jumping away right that moment.  In a few more seconds, it
would be too late to stop.  And he didn't want to.  No, he didn't.
     He surged heavily into Remy's mouth, coming in a sharp burst
of something almost like pain.  He felt the other man taking it,
sucking at his penis, encouraging little aftershocks to run though
him until Joseph sagged over onto Remy, hands dropping to Gambit's
shoulders to support himself.  "My God, Remy."
     "Dere you go again," Gambit said with good humor, maneuvering
Joseph onto the bed, where he fell down gratefully.  "Gambit tell
you -- he no god."
     Joseph watched him as Gambit came to sprawl on the bed, form
haloed by the light from the open window and looking deliciously
dissolute.  "A fallen angel, then."
     "Oh, sugah, Remy's definitely not that."
     The voice caught Joseph off-guard and he jerked upright,
staring at Rogue, who was hovering in the space left by the open
window.
     Gambit did not seem surprised.  "'Allo, Roguie.  Did you see
what you wanted t'see?"
     "Ah think Ah saw more than Ah ever wanted to."  Rogue's tone
was filled with a resigned kind of jealousy, even though her
posture screamed of anger.  "Ah know why now neither of you ever
really wanted me.  No wonder Ah couldn't turn Joseph on."
     Joseph felt mortified.  Only his overwhelming orgasm seconds
before kept him from hiding under the sheets and perhaps hoping for
a cataclysm to occur so that he could somehow sneak away.  As it
was, his body could not react, and he laid back, stunned, letting
Gambit respond for the both of them.
     "You could've stopped us if you wanted, chere.  Gambit know
you were watching."
     "Why should Ah?" she asked tensely.  "It's obvious to me now
that neither of you ever truly loved me.  How could Ah be so
stupid?"
     "You not being stupid, p'tite.  Gambit t'ink dat dis de best
demonstration of how we both want you."  He swept his hand over the
bed, gesturing to himself and Joseph.  "Gambit can't touch you so
he's feelin' frustrated.  An' Joseph even worse off 'cause he can
touch you but he can't do anyt'ing about what he's seeing and
touching."
     "What are you talkin' about?"
     Gambit regarded her quizzically.  "You know what I mean,
femme.  De magnetic shield dat Joseph be using to let you touch him
-- he can't use it if he be aroused."
     "If he really wanted me..."
     "Den he be in as much of a world of hurt as Gambit."
     Remy turned his head to look at Joseph for his opinion, and
surprised, Joseph could almost believe for a moment that what he
saw on the other man's face was tenderness.  "You want to add
anyt'ing, mon ami?"
     Joseph shook his head.  "No.  You've got it right."
     "So dat's de way it is," Gambit said, returning his attention
to Rogue.  "Doesn't have anyt'ing t'do wit' not loving you, chere. 
Only t'do wit' not being able t'have you."
     Rogue collapsed into a sitting position on the windowseat. 
Her hands went to her face, and she dropped her head.  "Ah'm never
gonna have anybody ta love me."
     "Chere, didn't you listen to Remy?  Both of us love you.  Too
much, mebbe, an' not in de way you want, but we do."
     "But I can't have either of you!" she wailed, tears falling.
     "Aw, chere, don't cry."  Gambit sat on the bed, helpless to go
to her.  He knew what she was feeling right now -- he had many and
varied romantic experiences, and had a very good idea of what
someone might be expected to feel even in a situation as unusual as
this one.  What she needed right now was to be physically reassured
that one or both of them did want her -- to be taken to bed and
thoroughly loved.  But it was the one thing neither man could give
her, not the way she wanted.
     Joseph watched the two of them and made his own decision.  His
experience was less, but he came to the same conclusion that Gambit
had -- Rogue needed something that he couldn't give her, something
that Gambit could, if Joseph were willing to make the sacrifice
that would allow it.  He caught Gambit's shoulder so that the Cajun
turned to look at him.  "She needs you.  I'll make it right. 
Just... do something.  I... I can't stand seeing her cry either. 
At least this way, she'll have someone."
     Gambit regarded him seriously, and then nodded.  He didn't
ruin Joseph's moment of altruism by protesting against it.  "T'ank
you, mon ami."
     Joseph stood slowly, watching Gambit go to Rogue and coax her
to the bed, then redressed himself and settled into the windowseat,
careful to look outside rather than in.  He only wanted Rogue to be
happy -- and he felt grateful to Gambit -- and so he could and
would do this.  But he couldn't watch.  So instead he concentrated
on holding up the magnetic shield that separated Rogue from Gambit
by the barest of margins, and tried not to listen to the soft
sounds of lovemaking going on behind him.
     Those sounds accentuated his loneliness.  Whatever changes had
occurred to his relationship with Gambit over the past day, he knew
that Rogue was the most important person to the other man.  And
Rogue loved Gambit as she did not love Joseph.  Rogue didn't love
him and would not want him if she could touch Gambit.  And if they
could have each other, then there was no place for him.  He'd been
working for some time on a device that would neutralize Rogue's
absorption ability without removing her other powers; it had been
his hope that she would use it with him, but it would work equally
well, once it was complete, to allow Rogue and Gambit to be
together without the unwelcome interference of a third party such
as himself.  It could be his gift to the couple -- to Rogue, for
the relationship he had almost had with her and the caring she had
mistakenly given him, and to Gambit, for the comradeship that the
Cajun had had no reason to extend, but had anyway.
     That he would be left out and left alone was painful, but
inevitable.  He would lose Rogue, and Gambit as well, and there
would be no one for him.  Perhaps, if he were very lucky, they
would remain friendly toward him, giving him some bastion of
support amid the mostly hostile X-Men, but he knew it was more
likely that Rogue and Gambit would turn against him, shutting out
the intruder who could only threaten their newly acquired
closeness.
     He could deal with that.  He would deal with that.
     Joseph closed his eyes against tears, but felt them prickling
at his eyes nonetheless.  He let them fall, trying to keep his mind
on the shield rather than on the aching pain of loss that he felt
inside.
     Focused in on himself, he was taken off-guard when a hand
touched his chin, holding it so that his face could be inspected.
     "Mon ami," came Gambit's sensuous, caressing voice.  "What's
wrong?"
     Startled, Joseph looked up, the shield dropping.  Gambit bent
over him, unselfconsciously nude, still touching him.  Joseph
glanced behind him; Rogue rested on the bed, also nude, curled up
and looking very satisfied.  "Nothing.  I'm fine."
     "Gambit t'ink dat you're not fine."
     Careful fingers brushed his face, taking the tears away. 
Joseph bit down on another wave of tears, the casual gesture of
affection almost undoing him.  "It's nothing you can do anything
about."
     "Why don't you let Gambit be de judge of dat?"
     "I'm very happy for you and Rogue," Joseph said tightly,
trying to keep his emotions leashed long enough to say what he
needed to say and get out of there.  "I think that I can construct
some sort of device so that the two of you can be together without
needing me."  His voice started to crack, and he forced himself to
cut what he was saying short, his words running together as he
spoke faster to get them all out before he broke down.  "You belong
together.  I know you'll be happy."  He stood, making for the door.
     Gambit caught him by the arm, pulling him back.  Joseph held
still as Gambit put his hands on Joseph's arms, forcing him to look
into the other man's eyes.  "What you t'ink?  Dat Gambit going
t'steal Roguie from you?  Non.  I wouldn't do dat to you, homme. 
Gambit promised."
     "Then what," Joseph choked out, trying not to hope too hard,
"are you doing?"
     "Gambit going t'show you how much it means to him dat you give
him dis chance wit' Rogue."  Red eyes regarded him seriously. 
"Your problem wit' Rogue is easy t'fix -- Gambit show you how t'get
'round it so dat you and Roguie can be toget'er."
     Joseph didn't understand what the Cajun was proposing.  "It's
all right.  I've given up.  I know now that you love Rogue and she
loves you, and that I'm only in the way."
     "You're really upset, aren't you?"
     Joseph nodded miserably.
     Before he could object, Gambit was steering him toward the
bed, and sitting him down on the edge of it.  The other man pulled
a sheet up over Rogue, covering her bare skin, then sat as well,
back against the wall.  Gambit opened his arms to Joseph. 
"C'mere."
     In a daze of non-comprehension, Joseph followed the
instruction, letting Remy hold him close.  A hand stroked his hair,
and Joseph wondered what bizarre alternate reality he had stumbled
into.
     Rogue looked up at them, expression glazed, as though reality
was a long distance from where she was now.  "Is there a problem,
sugah?"
     "Non," Gambit replied.  "Everyt'ing be all right."
     She seemed to accept that, and moved closer, settling into
them until the three of them were jumbled together, Joseph sprawled
half-over Gambit, leaning against him, while Rogue curled up
alongside them, face pressed into the pillow Remy had thoughtfully
placed between her head and his hip.
     Joseph didn't know what he felt, lying there cradled in the
other man's arms.  Confusion, security, perhaps even affection.  It
felt good to close his eyes and rest there, breathing in the scent
of Gambit's skin.
     They laid there in a comfortable silence, until Rogue started
to come back and began to notice her surroundings more thoroughly. 
She wrinkled her nose in perplexment.  "Not that Ah have a problem
with it, but just what are we all doing here together?"
     "Gambit t'ought dat it a good idea if he show de two of you
dat not being able to touch doesn't mean dat you can't arouse a
man."
     Rogue's eyebrows went up.  "And why do you want to do that?"
     "'Cause you tol' me dat de reason you be unhappy wit' Joseph
is dat you don't know dat he wants you.  Gambit t'ink dat you're
wrong, an' he t'ink dat he can prove it."
     "How?" Rogue challenged him.
     "Gambit show you if you want."
     She looked at Joseph, who nodded shakily.  The world was a
terrible and confusing place, but if Rogue wanted this, and if
anything could get him closer to Rogue, then he was all for it. 
For a moment, his mind wondered about Gambit, and whether Joseph
had made the right choices to begin with, but he skittered away
from that thought and back to the now desperate hope that this
situation might somehow be put right.
     Gambit pushed on Joseph's shoulders, guiding him to lie down
on the bed next to Rogue, as he himself slipped out of the bed. 
"Just a moment."  He got up, pulled on a robe, then left the room.
     Joseph laid there, alone with Rogue, looking at her.  He
brought up the magnetic shield so that he could reach out and brush
her hair back from her face.  She was so beautiful, and at the
moment, she looked happy, something he'd always wanted her to be. 
He'd thought he'd brought her a certain sort of peace in his arms
before, and perhaps that was true, but she had never found this
kind of incandescent happiness with him.  He resolved to accept
whatever Gambit was offering, and then leave.  For Rogue's sake. 
For his own.  He tried not to think about Gambit.
     Remy returned with a pair of Rogue's gloves, and then went
through his own clothing, emerging with a white silk scarf. 
"Perfect."
     He approached the bed, and handed the gloves to Rogue, who put
them on.  "These are silk, Remy."
     "You noticed!"  The Cajun pretended to pout.  "And dis is
another piece of silk."
     "What am Ah supposed ta do with this?" she asked dubiously. 
"Ah've been able to touch people using gloves for years, and Ah
already know that's not what Ah want.  How is this gonna be any
different?"
     "Trust Gambit, p'tite."
     "Hah!  That's a joke."  She smiled at him, taking the sting
from her words.
     He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the hit, then knelt
back.  "Joseph, you just lie dere and enjoy yourself.  You don't
need t'do not'ing."  He looked at Rogue.  "An' you, chere, are
going t'touch him.  All over.  An' see dat you really do have an
effect on him."
     "But Ah can't -- we can't have sex," she protested.
     "Don't worry 'bout dat.  Gambit don't t'ink dat'll be a
problem.  But if it is, he promise dat he'll take care of it."
     "Ah hope you know what you're doing, sugah."  She sat up,
sheet spilling over her, and looked down at Joseph.
     "You really don't have to do this," Joseph said, nervous and
uncomfortable.  He had the sickening feeling that Rogue felt
obligated to him in some way because he'd given her time with her
lover.  The alternate explanation, that he was being used as some
sort of lesson in how to arouse a man did not appeal to him either.
     "But Ah want to."
     Joseph stared at her helplessly, then gave in.  He couldn't
refuse Rogue.  "As you will."
     She giggled, and he felt a smile forming on his own face. 
Perhaps this would be all right.

     Twenty minutes later, naked, and arching from her touch, he
felt as though he would die at any moment.  Rogue had touched him
everywhere, as if memorializing his body, leaving no patch of skin
neglected.  The silk gloves made her hands even softer than they
were naturally, a sensation that only added to his torment.  He had
hardened only a short time after she had begun touching him -- only
a subconscious response that this was Rogue and that he should not
react to her had held him at bay, and once he was able to struggle
past that, all of the old desire he had felt for Rogue from the
first came surging back.
     If she had done this earlier, if he had not already achieved
orgasm earlier with Remy, he would have already ejaculated, unable
to take the sensual teasing on top of the toll his weeks of forced
restraint had imposed upon him.
     But he had already had one orgasm, and his body seemed capable
of stretching this out an infinite amount of time, as long as he
remained deprived of direct contact with the part of him that
wanted it the most.
     The scarf floated down over his face, and he focused on
Rogue's lips and hair as she bent down to kiss him through the
thin, sheer silk.  He wanted to take her head in his hands and hold
her, but did not dare.  He could hardly concentrate on his own
thoughts for more than a moment at a time, much less the magnetic
shield that he would need to protect himself against Rogue's
powers.
     "So," a drawling voice asked from the other end of the bed,
"do you b'lieve now dat de man wants you?"
     Rogue pulled away from Joseph, and he moaned a little at being
deprived of contact with her.
     "Ah *think* so."
     Remy's laugh was as rich and rippling as it had been the night
before, and Joseph felt as much caressed by it as he did by Rogue's
hands.  "C'mere, chere, and look at dis."
     Unlike Rogue, Gambit had no restraints on how he could touch
Joseph.  Now, he leaned his hip and part of his torso against
Joseph's thigh, winking at the other man before returning to
grinning at Rogue.
     Joseph drew in his breath sharply at that warm contact. 
Gambit's body was touching his, and even through the other man's
robe, he could feel heat spreading from the Cajun to him.  A heat
that was missing from Rogue's teasing touch.  She was cautious
about how she touched him, even with the sheet between their bodies
-- and that was the best thing for all of them -- but it left him
exposed and without much in the way of physical reassurance.  The
kind of physical reassurance that Gambit was now giving him
unthinkingly, casually.  *I must have some twistedness buried in my
psyche that the first woman I fall in love with is someone whom I
can't fully touch.  When I can touch her, I have to be emotionally
closed off to do it.  When she touches me, we're separated by a
different kind of barrier.  Of space as much as silk.  What does
this say about me, or about the man I really am, but can't
remember?*
     Silk trailed over his erection, a whisper soft caress that
could only have come from the scrap of silk.  Joseph raised his
head to see Gambit demonstrating on him to what effect that item
could be used.
     Rogue giggled, and took the scarf, imitating Gambit's actions
and giggling more when Joseph's penis bobbed in response to that
tantalizing touch.
     She hardly seemed to realize that he was there at all.  Joseph
wondered how much more he could take of being a sexual experiment. 
Then the silk wrapped around his erection, and his head fell back
onto the bed, as he forgot about thought and concentrated on
sensation, thrusting into that elusive caress.
     His hands clutched at the bed, and one of them was taken in a
strong grip and held.  Flesh against flesh.  Gambit.
     His need for physical contact met, Joseph relaxed into the
tension then, letting it build as it would.  The silk slipped
against his skin, tantalizing him without giving him enough contact
to give him any hope of actually finding any release this way.
     Conversation went on around him, and he took no notice of it.
     "Now what do Ah do, Remy?"
     "'Pends on what you want t'do, chere.  T'ink dat Joseph
appreciate just about whatever you want t'do."
     "Like what?"
     A laugh.  "Like dis."  A hand stroked his penis, touching him
lightly, yet more firmly than the scrap of silk fabric ever could,
sliding along his hot, stretched skin.
     A silk-clad hand joined it, and his hips rocked with the
motion of the two hands touching him.  They explored him, tested
his textures and his reactions, seeing what kind of groans they
could draw from him.
     But there was no rhythm.  No steady pressure, and he found
himself opening his mouth to beg, "Please... finish it.  Please..."
     He didn't hear the reply, if there were a reply.  All Joseph
knew was that the touch stopped entirely, and he cried out, in
frustration and pain.  "No! -- Please... you have to... let me..."
     "Now do you b'lieve dat he wants you?" Gambit's dark voice
asked.
     "Ah think Ah do," came Rogue's wondering voice.
     "D' you want t'give de man what he wants, chere?  'Cause he
does want it, b'lieve me, he does."
     "Ah don't think Ah could," she said, glancing doubtfully at
Joseph's erection.  "Ah mean, Ah thought I could when we started
this.  But Ah've never... well..."
     "Know what you mean -- but you sure?  Gambit t'ink dat the man
appreciate your attention."
     "Please, Remy--" she said, anxiety in her voice.  "This is
just all too much for me.  Ah--" she blushed, "--just barely lost
my virginity and this is..."
     Joseph registered the anguish in Rogue's voice, in the voice
of the woman who had just brought him to this state of need. 
Desire to finish this encounter in any way possible warred with the
need to comfort her.  "Rogue!  It's all... right," he interrupted,
panting.  He sat up, trying to reach out to her.  "I... I'll be
fine.  You don't have to do anything.  I don't mind."
     Rogue's expression became more pained as she recoiled from
him.
     Gambit intervened.  "Non, Joseph.  You don't have t'do dat. 
Gambit take care of you.  An'--" he addressed himself to Rogue, "de
man so desperate dat he offering to forget dat you got him all
riled up.  Take dat as a compliment, chere, 'cause it is."
     Joseph looked between them both, mind still too overwhelmed by
his body's needs to be able to follow Gambit's thought-process. 
His expression was full of fear and attenuated desire.  "Please... 
I'll be okay--"
     "Yes, you will," Gambit said, gently pushing him back down
onto the bed.  "You be just fine.  Let Gambit help you out."
     And then that marvelous mouth was once again on his penis, and
Joseph forgot about Rogue.  Forgot about his offer to stop wanting.
Forgot about everything but the fulfillment that was rushing
through him.
     He cradled Gambit's head in his hands, hardly aware of doing
so, fingers combing through the mop of red-brown hair.  He did not
grab or demand -- this was a gift, and he knew it, if he could know
anything at all at that moment.
     There was no build-up in tension, no warning.  One moment, the
unbearable agony of wanting held him -- the next, his world was a
sharp vastness of release, the sensation like pain, but the kind of
pain that he needed now.  Joseph held his breath as the feeling
lasted longer than he thought it could possibly last, then exhaled
in panting gasps as it passed through him.  He shivered, trembling
with his reaction to that climax as Gambit continued his attentions
until Joseph had become nothing more than a boneless, unresisting
puddle of flesh on the bed.
     Remy moved up, grinning.  "Trust me, chere, he wanted dat
bad."  He made as if to lie down on Rogue's other side so that the
woman would be between the two men, but Joseph roused himself
enough to protest, grabbing Remy's arm to tug him down.
     Gambit raised his eyebrows.  "What you want, cher?"
     Joseph couldn't speak yet, couldn't articulate his thoughts. 
But he knew what he needed.  He tugged again, and Gambit
acquiesced, coming to lie between a sheet-clad Rogue and Joseph. 
Joseph found the strength to curl up against Gambit, then
collapsed, tugging at the robe Gambit had donned earlier until he
felt the reassuring warmth of bare skin against his, and knowing
that this was where he wanted to be.
     Not with Rogue.
     The thought should have bothered him, but at the moment,
nothing could bother him.
     "Thank you," Joseph said, slipping into sleep.
     Gambit regarded him with a tender smile.  "You're welcome, mon
ami."
     Rogue was wide-eyed.  "Wow.  Ah didn't know that was
possible."  She blushed.  "Ah mean, Ah know it's possible, but Ah
didn't know Ah could do that to someone."
     Remy's smile turned to Rogue, becoming broader, a caricature
of a leer.  "You can do lots of things, p'tite.  Remind me to show
you all of dem."
     "Today?" she squeaked.
     He grinned.  "Gambit hadn't planned on dat, but seein' as how
he's in bed wit' an apparent nymphomaniac, guess he doesn't have a
lot of choice."
     "Why, Ah ought to..."
     His grin grew wider.  "No need t'use force on me, chere. 
Unless you like dat kind of t'ing."
     She glared at him and nestled under his arm, protected from
contact with his skin both by the sheet and his robe.  "Just shut
your mouth, Cajun.  Before Ah forget that Ah like you."
     Gambit was about to drift off as well when Rogue asked
sleepily, "So why is Joseph sleeping next to you and not me?"
     Discretion was the better part of valor, wasn't it?  Remy
pretended to be asleep, and in a few short breaths, the pretense
was the truth as he, too, fell into an exhausted, sated slumber.


-the end-