SUMMARY: two friends talk. that's all.
WARNING: none, at all.
NOTES: the wise and talented LN Tora once said, "everyone should write a character they're not fond of every once and awhile just to see if they can." and, by gods, I have. I'm experimenting. don't get confused by the format. remember, it's just two friends talking. it's not confusing. really.

"So just sit down and do it. C'mon. Just sit down and-"

"Okay, okay. There. I'm doing it."

"And . . . ?"

"And what? It's me. It's my reflection."

"And what do you see?"

"I just said that-"

"That's not what I meant. I mean, what do you *really* see?"

"I *reallly* see my reflection."

"You're making fun of me."

"No, I'm not; I just don't understand what you're wanting from me. You sit me in front of a mirror, and then expect me to get all deep and insightful?"

"I'm not asking for insight. I just want you to be honest. With me. With yourself."

"Are you quoting something? General Hospital, maybe?"

"Warren, If you don't want to do this, fine."

"Now who's not being honest? If I don't do this, it's not going to be fine. You're going to storm around rolling your eyes at me for weeks, crying, 'You can't help a man who won't help himself.' That drives Scott crazy, you know."

"I'm . . going to ignore that for right now, because I realize that you're just trying to distract me."

"That drives Scott crazy, too."

"Shut up, and listen to me. Thursday night, you came to me and you said-"

"I was drunk."

"You were drunk, but you were sincere. Now, you said-"

"I think we both remember what I said. There's no reason to bring it up again."

"I think there is. Now, I can say it, or you can look yourself in the eye and say it."

"Look, Jean, I know you're just trying to help, but trust me. This isn't a matter of inner truth. It's a matter of twisted drunk-off-my-ass mentality."

"So you're saying that alcohol is the only reason you admitted to having a crush on-"

"Don't ever use THAT word again."

"What word?"

"You know. 'Crush.' It's a stupid word."

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's kind of cute. Especially considering you and-"

"Jean! Come on! Can't we just let this rest?"

"Warren, seriously, if this is an issue - and I think it is - then you need to deal with it. I'm not saying that you necessarily have to tell him about it, though that is an option- Oh, come on now, Warren, don't be like that. It *is* an option. If you have serious feelings for him, then-"

"Jean, stop it! It's *not* an option. I'm not telling anybody anything because there's nothing to tell."

"That's not what you said Thursday night."

"I told you, I was drunk."

"Yes, Warren, you were *drunk*. Not insane or possessed. You have to admit to yourself that what you expressed exists on some level within you."

"Fine. *On some level*. I can admit that."

"Good. Now sit back down, look into the mirror, and say it."

"Say what?"

"What you said you would say. What you said you could admit."

"But I just said it."

"No, you said you *could* say it. I want you to actually say it."

"Jean . ."

"Don't 'Jean' me. Just sit down and do it. C'mon."

"Didn't we just go through this?"

"Warren . ."

"Okay, I'm sitting! I'm sitting and looking, there I am."

"Now what do you say?"

"This is stupid."

"That's not what you say."

"Fine, 'I admit it.' There, I said it."

"No . . . "

"What? I said I admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Admit that it's true."

"What's true?"

"What we talked about Thursday night."

"And that was . . ?"

"Dammit, Jean!"

"Warren, repeat after me."

"This is so stu-"

"I haven't started speaking yet, Warren. Want to try it again?"

" . . ."

"Good boy. Now, repeat after me: I . ."

"I."

"have feelings for . . "

"Oh, no way, I'm not saying that!"

"Fine, fine; we'll go with something more suitable to your alpha-maleness."

"Now *you're* making fun of *me*."

"Never. Now: I . ."

"I."

"find . . "

"Find."

"Remy . . "

"Gambit."

"You called him 'Remy' Thursday night, Warren."

"Well, I'm calling him Gambit now. I find *Gambit*."

"Fine. I find Gambit . . "

" . . . arrogant, obnoxious, slimy, manipulative-"

" . . attractive."

" . . . "

"C'mon, Warren. You said you could admit it; now do it."

" . . and attractive. I find Remy attractive. There, I said it. Is anything magically better? Did we bring peace and happiness to the world? Am I any less confused?"

"No."

"Then what the hell was the point in that?"

"The truth will set you fr-"

"Well, thank you, Jean, for cliche-ing me into clarity."

"I can't give you clarity, Warren. Only you can do that."

"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place? I would've kept my own drunken woes to myself."

"And you would've been just as miserable as you were Thursday, as you are now, except alone."

"Well, at least when I'm alone I don't have anybody wanting to talk about it all the time, and I can . . "

"Can what, Warren? Pretend it doesn't exist?"

"Well . . yes."

"Why? Why do that? They're feelings, they're *your* feelings, and they're just as valid and worthy as anybody else's. Why pretend they aren't?"

"Because . . "

"Because they're wrong? Because they're unnatural? Because if anyone ever found out about them, your family and friends would turn their backs on you, because you're some kind of freak?"

"Oh, come *on*, Jean. You're turning this into a crusade. It's not like that; you're not releasing the poor, repressed guy. I'm not *Bobby*."

"Warren! Shame on you! And you are too repressed."

"No, I'm not! I just admitted I have feelings f- that I'm attracted to a male teammate! That makes me the opposite of repressed!

"You admitted it to yourself, that's only half the battle. If you weren't repressed, you could admit it to others."

"I admitted it to you."

"You were drunk."

"THAT'S what I've been trying to tell you!"

"Warren, you have to consciously, *soberly* admit the truth to your friends."

"Why? What business is it of theirs?"

"They're your friends, Warren! They care about you. They want to help you."

"Help me do what? You said that only I could give myself clarity. And we've already established that nothing is going to happen between Gambit and I."

"We haven't established that."

"*I* have established that!"

"Exactly. Because you're repressed."

"No, I'm not!!"

"Then why can't you consider the idea of being with Remy?"

"What? Where did this come from?? You just wanted me to sit down in front of a mirror, you didn't say anything about-"

"Warren, calm down."

"Jean, come on! I'm not-- I'm just not in that market, okay? I admit I can find him aesthetically pleasing, and that's fine, that's great, I'm a healthy modern man. But I'm not -- I'm Warren Worthington III. I'm not *looking* for a guy.

"Apparently, Warren, you are. You're looking for *this* guy."

"And that just makes it worse! *Him* of all people. He's so insufferably . . beautiful. And he *knows* it."

"You know, Warren, the same has been said about you. All things considered, I think the two of you would make a wonderful cou-"

"Do. Not. Jean."

"You're right, I'm sorry. But really, Warren, now that you've admitted your feelings for Remy, can't you admit that the two of you . . maybe . . that it could actually be a good thing?"

"Actually, no, I staunchly refuse to think about it. And I'm not about to start."

"Oh, Warren, it couldn't hurt to just *think* about it. Daydreaming is what makes a crush so much fun."

"There's that word again . . "

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"And I don't see anything at all fun about this situation."

"That's because you're not letting yourself enjoy it. What are you so worried about?"

"Maybe being made to sit in front of this mirror all my life?"

"Yeah, right, like you don't spend most of your time in front of a mirror anyway . . "

"Hey, I don't-"

"Kidding, Warren, just kidding. You're so defensive."

"Well, I *am* in the middle of an identity crisis, Jean."

"I knew it!! An identity crisis! What did I tell you??"

"That's not what I meant-"

"What you *meant* was . . you're in the middle of an identity crisis, because admitting that you fall into the ranks of insipid Remy fawners shakes up your shallow, virile millionaire playboy image."

"That's not true. I still have plenty of faith in my virility."

"Mm. Remy's too, I bet. You two could-"

"Jean!! You're not helping!"

"Sorry. It's just that . . "

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, really, what? I want to know. You've been pushing hard for this, and I want to know why."

"Mm. 'Pushing hard' . . "

"That's it, I'm leaving."

"No! Warren, c'mon, sit back down. I was kidding."

"No, you weren't. You've got some kind of . . some kind of strange interest in this."

"Well, of course I do, Warren. You're my friend. So is Remy, really. And, well, you know . . a girl would have to be crazy to not push hard for the union of two gorgeous, arrogant, *virile* men . . "

"Mm. 'Union' . . "

"See? It's fun!"

"Agh!! What've you done to me??"

"I haven't done anything to you, Warren. This is natural, you're just settling into . . I'm going to say it . . . "

"Sigh. Go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Say it."

"You're just settling into a crush. It's a *good* thing."

"How can it be? I *hate* Remy."

"Yeah . . but in a sexually-frustrated way."

"You think so?"

"Well . . sure."

"Okay. Is that also why I looked the other way when Rogue left him in Antarctica?"

" . . No. I think you were drunk then, too."

"Oh."

"So, what was the first thing you noticed about him?"

"I don't really think I'm ready for this, Jean . . "

"Oh, come on, Warren. This is part of it. The girl talk. Or, y'know."

"Boy, you got over that sensitive-supportive thing really quickly."

"We can talk about your innermost feelings some more, if you want . . "

"No!"

"Fine. Then spill."

"Well, um . . what did I notice about him first? The eyes, obviously. Then, I think, the walk. You know what I'm talking about?"

"Oh, yeah, the Gambit Walk. I know what you're talking about. I'd have to be blind not to."

"When he first got here . . he strutted around the mansion, doing the Walk. I hated him. Except, well, you know."

"Yes. The sexual frustration."

"And then there was his magnificent-"

"Warren, hold on, there's someone coming."

"Who?"

"Him."

"Who?"

"Eh, salut, mon amie. And . . Warren."

"Oh, hello, Remy. . . Say hello, Warren."

"Hello, Warren."

"No, say hello to Remy."

"Hello to-"

"Shut up. So, Remy, what've you been up to?"

"Well, notin' really . . I . . I just came in to get de Scotch tape . . Henri said it was in here . . . if you could jus' hand it to me . . "

"Well, yes, of course, but before I do that . . Warren, stand up . . would you mind sitting down in front of this mirror for a minute?"

"Uh . . d'accord. Why?"

"*giggle*"

"Warren, shh."

"Sorry."

"*giggle*"