A/N: Been on sabbatical working out how I want to plan the direction of Arrival and the Reunion,since at this point there is already four versions of the next installment. (Yes, that would be indecision at it's finest.) While that menace is waiting to come to fruition, I have started this little adventure. It's only planned to be few chapters, nothing deep and involving, but then we'll see where it goes. Reviews, Reviews Reviews as it will be my fuel to continue! So please drop me one.
Read enjoy, and remember.... Marvel owns our souls. Er, I mean creative rights.
"I don't know how you talk me into these things."
Storm touched down to tighten the buckle on her boots after giving Remy a sideways glance. They were standing on the handle of a crowded sidewalk while the neon lights in French basked above. Remy wore a mischievous expression, raking his eyes over Ororo as she finally came up to a complete vertical base.
"Because Stormy knows she wants it. Don' act like she aint gon' enjoy herself."
Ororo caught his eye-over. "As much as you enjoyed staring at my ass, right?"
Remy bit down on the excitement of her words. "Can't mess wit' perfection, Chere."
Ororo laughed a hearty laugh playfully punching him in the shoulder. "I give up."
"Dat be smart. By de looks of it, Remy be fightin' off every homme you breeze past t'nite, non?"
And man was she looking dangerous!
A tube top was her only cover from the see-through mesh material that started at her collarbone and ended to reveal a wealth of taunt and toned abs that screamed femme fatale. Even more, she had those leather pants that clung to hips seemingly made for rockin; thick yet lean and curved in all right places. Her combat boots extended to the knee, zipped with silver buckles up the side. Although they were flat, the thick heal still added ad-least two more inches to her tall frame easily putting her right at eye level with Remy. He didn't mind, for it meant her cobalt eyes highlighted with kohl were more assessable a sight.
All the black contrasted well with her snow-laden hair half-braided and beaded with turquoise and hematite colours that faded into loose tresses. Alongside other accessories; a silver bracelet snaked around the upper arm, silver and gold bangles on each wrist, intricate middle eastern styled chandelier earrings that lightly brushed the top of her shoulders and a striking centerpiece of a necklace in silver and turquoise workmanship. (Most likely a gift from what's his face.)
Her caramel skin was beaming under the lights. It complimented her goddess features well with the kick ass element he knew his Stormy to possess.
Man what a gorgeous belle!
"Well, they can beat it. I'm not here to find men. I've got one already," Ororo said confidently.
Remy grimaced at the thought of her man. No, he didn't like her her man in the least. Almost sensing his angst, she took his arm in his yanking it playfully.
"Which would be you tonight. It's been too long since I've spent time with my brother, one of my best friends. So stop being a lush. You managed to snag me away now tell me what's on the agenda. I'm sure you know this town better then I do."
"Well enough, I guess." His eyes shined their ebony on crimson.
"Remy missed his Stormy so much."
Although she detested that nickname he seemed so adamant about pinning to her years ago, it was presently touching. She leaned into the sleeve of his blazer briefly smelling the scent of musk and cologne before pulling away. Remy found himself smiling all over, his other hand caressing her elbow. They were innocent gestures, although bi-standers would have probably thought otherwise. But here in this town, they passed over without a second thought. Maybe that was another extension of why he liked it so much. Everyone minded their own and no-one was out to be a busy-body. For the more eccentric you looked, it just meant you were a living, breathing art-piece made to be admired, not ridiculed. Everyone was laid back, teeming with appreciation for the simple things in life. It was a pace he could get used to.
They held hands while merging into the melting pot of cultures that made up the crowd. It approached ten PM as most of the clubs, bars, pubs, cafes, bistros and restaurants came to life. Vendors were on the sides of the road offering their wares, and from one African kiosk, smells of patchouli, sandalwood and Egyptian musk filled the air. It mingled with spices, sweet and sharp alongside the hum of acoustic guitars and singing of light folk songs. And briefly, it reminded her of Masr il'adeema, or Old Cairo. The workings of the bazaars were always enigmatic and smells were many, especially that of musks and exotic scents and animals brought to the midaan.
While Remy had stopped at one vendor and purchased a batch of fresh roasted chestnuts, Ororo found herself drawn to another with handmade jewelry. Most was in gold, some in silver alongside precious stones. Emeralds, tourmaline, topaz and sapphires. To quartz, rubies, even jade. What caught her eye though had been something she swore an oath to the goddess she'd seen before. She paused lost in thoughts and memories about how it could have gotten here.
"Bosoin l'aide, maddam?"
Ororo popped out of her trance at the woman before her. Although it was dark, the woman wore sunglasses. It put a whole new meaning to that silly song from the 80's, Ororo thought. Even though she understood French well enough from having resided with Remy in New Orleans for some time, she decided to reply in English.
"Yes, you could help me."
Almost immediately, Ororo could picked up the woman's careful strides. It was then she wished she could see the expression in her eyes. For the eyes were a dead giveaway to the soul. A focal point to explaining things without the use of words. Without that luxury she settled on other features, like her similar dark skin and the scarf that concealed her head. Her clothes were very Bohemian and loose with bracelets of hemp, and beads, alongside some necklaces it seemed she took from her own private stock. Elegant, and artistic.
"This pendant here...." Ororo pointed in the far corner of the glass case to a round sculpted silver and jade trinket.
Without much of a hesitation, the woman bolted in surprise and took it from the case.
"All ap'ol'gees, miss dis one shouldn't have been they'er. They got mix up, zats all. But if they'er's an'nathin' elze, I will be pleazed to help."
Ororo crinkled a nose at the strange dialect. She spoke French but with another accent. And to her, it was no mystery of the other origin.
"Your from Egypt." It was half a question but more a statement.
" Iz my accent dat crude?"
Well damn.
It wasn't meant to be a insult but she sure had taken it like one. The effect came off chafing, something Ororo didn't mean - like calling a Japanese person Chinese or disputing the fact tomato was pronounced tomato instead of To'mau'to. Either way, never a good thing. But still - something about it irked her. Although it had been years since she left Egypt, she could have bet money on the certainty of that Arabic dialect.
It had a distinct sound, ring, not that of Moroccan for sure, but then again maybe it was Algerian. Definitely North African, she pegged.
Goddess she was obsessing hard but it didn't help the only piece of jewelry she gleaned an interest in was one that had been disheveled without a second thought.
She lowered a snowy-white eyebrow and forced herself to drop it. There was no need to cast stones over doubts or misplaced pride. But she highly doubted she had made any type of error. If anything, she was hiting a bullseyes, right on the money. Something was more then odd about the woman who hide all her features.
"I'm sorry. Didn't mean to offend you. It just looks like something I've seen before. But it was many years ago..." Her eyes were the deepest of blue.
"Couldn't be the same I guess."
And at that, Remy walked up, munching on the goodness that was fresh roasted chestnuts. He snaked a hand around her waste squeezing her to him unaware of everything.
"Der you are, Chere. Remy was gettin worried. Cant run off wid'out telling 'em. He think you been taken away by some ada man."
He smiled suggestively and she returned the gesture weakly still eying the woman with those ridiculous sunglasses.
Stop judging,she co-arsed herself.
"Remy got dis place we go, Chere. Ready to start dis t'ing?"
She put the incident in the back of her mind, all focus on whatever Remy had planned. It couldn't have been anyway. Wishful thinking.
"Lead the way, handsome."
And with Remy was all smirks and suggestions, pulling her into the sea of party-goers and down Old Montreal's streets.
The woman of mystery looked on at Ororo's retreating figure finally shedding her glasses as another walked up. The new woman wore a pleasant face with a long plait cascading over one shoulder. Although nothing was said immediately, her almond coloured eyes settled over the balfsje of the dark sitt. Interchange wasn't needed for her to realize something like the moving of space had occurred. And she was sure it involved the previous white-haired woman from minutes ago.
"Why don't you go. I got this."
And with that admonition, she departed her booth and laid claim to becoming part of the crowd.