The city seemed so quiet from this height. Through the heavy glass of the window, the sounds of the street were cut off, leaving only the view. The skyline of a thousand buildings was silhouetted against the bright color of the morning light, trying to claw its way over. To the eyes of anyone else, it was a peaceful and beautiful scene. Isabelle knew better.
She stood by the ceiling high glass pane as she tried to drown it out. It was part of her gift - which was far more accurately a curse - that she could feel it. The city. Its pain and anger. Everything. From this distance, she could push it away, at least to the back of her mind. There was nothing else to be done. It reminded her why she lived alone, so high above the streets. As she watched the light over the city grow brighter, a familiar static seemed to crawl over her skin. She focused on the warm energy, letting it ebb away her other thoughts. Soon, it became the only feeling left. The sensation grew more focused as a hand brushed up and down her arm gently. Another was used to brush her long hair over her shoulder, away from the back of her neck.
"Good morning," she smiled, feeling a slow, lazy kiss on her neck.
"Mornin," came the reply, spoken in a deep voice still heavy with sleep.
Both of his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her back closer. She easily allowed herself to melt back into the welcome attention.
"Somethin' on ya mind, darlin?" he asked between the kisses he placed on her neck and shoulder.
"Not anymore," she sighed, contently leaning her head back against his shoulder.
While it was true that her favorite company always had a heavy accent, the way it grew more defined when his voice was low and tired sent shivers down her spine.
"Don't buy that. There's always somethin," he chuckled, "Tell me."
"I want this," she answered, "I want to take this second and stretch it out forever. The one moment where everything can be just...perfect. Which is usually right about the time you tell me you have to go."
"Wish ah didn't," he sighed, "But you know me too well."
"You're forgetting something, aren't you?" Isabelle asked, turning around to wrap her arms around his neck.
"What?"
"I was promised breakfast."
She smiled up at him before pulling him into a kiss.
"Well…ah'm already late," he figured, "So, what's a bit more?"
Stepping back a bit, she noticed that he was already dressed to go, aside from a missing shirt. Looking around the room briefly, it occurred to her that she honestly didn't know where she'd caused him to lose it.
"Not that I'm complaining," she started, watching him walk into her kitchen, "But where's your shirt?"
"If ah knew that, ah'd have it?" he smirked at her over the counter.
"That one's on me," she laughed.
"Ya think?"
"I'll find everything else. You stand half naked in my kitchen and cook for me. Everybody wins," she smirked back at him, before walking back down the hall.
It didn't take long before she walked back toward the kitchen with a dress shirt in hand.
"You'll never believe where I found-"
She cut herself off when she heard a cellphone vibrating harshly against the kitchen counter. It rang out, ignored, until she spoke up again.
"Uh, Remy," she asked, "You need to get that?"
With a huff, Remy grabbed the phone off the counter and looked at it.
"One of your other women wondering where you are?" Isabelle smirked, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Not unless her name's Logan," he huffed in reply, setting the phone back down unanswered.
"Friend?"
"You know ah don't have many of those."
"Someone from work then?" she asked further.
"Yeah."
"Which job?"
Rolling his eyes briefly, he leaned over the counter to distract her with another short kiss.
"No more questions, Belle."
She sat at the stool by the open countertop as he slid a plate of food across to her.
"Just one more," she persisted, "How in the world does anyone make an omelette this perfect? I've been trying for years and all I get is egg on my floor."
"Well, if ah told you that," he answered, "Ya wouldn't need me ta come over and make 'em for you. That's just no fun."
"Do you really have to go?" she pouted as she watched him sit across from her with his own food.
"Afraid so. But...I'll tell you what," he offered, "Let me take you out to dinner sometime and you're sure ta see me again."
She looked from him down at her plate and grew a bit quieter.
"I'm sorry. That's still gonna be a no."
"I do not understand you," he laughed, looking down at his own plate briefly before his attention turned back to her, "You're fine with me stayin' over, but you won't let me be a gentleman first?"
"You're asking me on a date, LeBeau."
"So?"
"So, if I go on a date with you, then we'd be dating," she explained, "Right now, I get to not care what you do or who you do it with. If we start dating, I start caring and I cannot go down that rabbit hole right now."
"You think mah life's that complicated, huh?" he wondered.
"No, Remy. I think you're that complicated," she chuckled, "But, if you wanna get dinner, then bring takeout next time you stop in."
"And…" he started to ask, face growing a bit more serious as he spoke, "What happens if ah drop by and you already got company?"
"Then just wait a few minutes for me to send him away," she answered without skipping a beat, "Because whoever it is won't be Remy LeBeau. For now, save your dinners for the other women I'm sure you have stashed around the city. I'll be just fine with breakfast."
A few hours went by before Remy's bike pulled up to the school. When he got to the garage, he cut the engine, propped the bike up, and dropped the helmet on the seat before running inside. He made it as far as the kitchen without being noticed and took it as a sign of a good morning. As soon as he set foot in the kitchen, it turned around. Scott was already standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, glaring at him through red lenses.
"Ah guess ah'm late," Remy shrugged, knowing his flippant attitude would only upset the other man more.
"Late?! You were supposed to help lead a training session four hours ago," Scott scoffed out bitterly, "Logan had to cover for you again, which you'd know if you bothered to show up!"
"Had other plans and they ran late," Remy offered as a vague explanation while he pulled a water bottle out of the fridge.
"You wanna tell the rest of us what those are?"
"When it becomes your business, ah'll let you know," he answered, "In the meantime, that stick is exceptionally high up yer ass today, so ah'd get that checked out if ah were you."
Scott didn't bother with a response. Instead, he grabbed the jar from the kitchen counter and slid it across the island to Remy, who simply laughed at the all too familiar "swear jar" that Storm had put in place.
"Outta ones."
"Well, with you and Logan bankrolling that thing, there should be enough to break a fifty," Scott huffed, walking out of the room.
Remy just half-heartedly smiled at the pitiful jar before pulling the first bill he could reach out of his pocket and sticking it in.
"Sorry ah'm late," he sighed, when he saw logan enter the room in the side of his vision.
"Don't mention it," Logan shrugged, clearly used to the occurrence, "You cover when I'm not here."
"What happens the day we both decide not to show?" Remy wondered.
"Then Scott's screwed," Logan answered simply.
When Gambit didn't make any kind of comment at Scott's expense, Logan turned to look at him and raise an eyebrow in question. With a small sniff, he knew just which question to ask.
"Same girl again?"
"Different one."
"Bullshit."
Remy slid the jar back across the island toward Logan. Logan scoffed at it.
"We're really still doing that?"
"Guess so," Remy shrugged, taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.
"Not done asking about the girl."
"Why's that matter? Ah keep that separate from the school, so it never bothered anyone before."
"It matters because you haven't so much as looked at the same woman twice since Rogue," Logan noted, "Now five dates with one girl? I'm almost worried about you."
"Funny," Remy faked a laugh flatly, "And we're not dating. She's expressed many times over that she's not interested in changin' that."
"So, what? You two just-"
"Pretty much."
"Must be really difficult to have a nice looking girl that only wants to sleep with you," Logan scoffed sarcastically.
"What makes you think she's all that nice to look at?"
"The five trips," he answered, "Look, everyone knows you've been an insufferable ass since you and Rogue broke it off. You started acting like yourself again and I'm just wondering if we're gonna get the chance to thank her for getting you to shut up."
"What? You think ah like her or somethin'?" Remy laughed under his breath.
"Do you?"
"Not always that simple," he shrugged.
"Just ask Storm," Logan suggested, "She's dying to say something about it, but doesn't think we know she's right around the corner."
Storm walked into the kitchen with her hands in the air in mock surrender.
"Fine, you caught me," she accepted, "Now, tell me about her."
"Not happening," Remy chuckled, standing from his position of leaning on the island, "Because ah don't like her like that."
"Break up with her," Storm shrugged, skillfully baiting a reaction from him.
"We're not together!" he emphasized again, irritated by the conversation.
"Then just stop seeing her and we'll stop asking questions. Easy," she continued.
When his face seemed to drop at the thought of it, a bright smile grew across Storm's face.
"Aha!" she beamed, "You do like her!"
"That's it. Ah'm gone."
He walked out of the room before any more questions could be asked. Storm just turned to look at Logan.
"Don't look at me. You chased him out," Logan defended.
"Why won't he talk about it?" she wondered.
"Something to do with him getting rejected."
Storm's smile faltered only for a moment.
"He's forgetting something, then."
"What?"
"She's seen him all those times too. No woman puts up with that man for that long if she doesn't see something there."