He-he, sorry that this isn't a chapter of 'Hiding', but a gruesome, hairy troll came by with a huge stick and beat the crap out of the part of my brain with the rest of the story planned out.
Yes…that's exactly what happened.
Just kidding, ha ha. But, since the fiction doesn't want to write itself (dag-nab-it) it's going to take a while. I have chapter…something… typed up for the most part. So hang tight and read this while I go work on that.
Disclaimer: I don't own the x-men, the characters, the cool drawings, the masses of animators, the voice actors, the studio, the television I watch it on, the car in my driveway or the house that I live in! I got nothing'…
On with the show…
For the seventh time that evening Rogue pulled up on the white glove that covered her entire arm. The satiny fabric refused to stay put
on her pale arm and would slide down every time she bent her elbow. She bent her arm slightly, allowing a little pull in the fabric and then set her
arm strait again. It seemed to work, and the glove remained in place.
From her spot in the room she could see all of her teammates laughing, dancing, and having a good time.
A good time…it had been months since any of them could really even think about enjoying their young lives. That day so long ago
still had a way of lingering and turning every happy moment bitter even now. Rogue remembered every detail of it. Everything from teaming up
with the Brotherhood, fighting the strange new forces…that boy…getting covered in a paralyzing slime…that boy…His eyes were etched on her
mind no matter how hard she tried to forget.
Even during those few weeks…Rogue closed her eyes again, shaking her head as if to send the memories flying out. For nearly a
month those monsters and mutant-haters had held her, experimented on her, and tortured her. Her sense of being had been lost, replaced by the
overwhelming feeling of shame they had given her. She had been a guinea pig to them, a toy even to be taken out for their leisure and then
returned to a small cage when they were done with her. And the games they used to play with her. She would lie on those tables for hours while they forced her to absorb her fellow mutants. It was never for long, but she had to watch as they writhed in the pain. Her mutation was horrible,
and the less she had to use it the happier she was.
And then, finally her team had come. In all of their heroic glory that had come and rescued them all. It was right out of the movies the
way they blasted their way into the dark underground levels of the laboratory where they were being kept. With fire erupting from hands and
eyes, ice shooting from fingertips, and all their unearthly powers they had stormed in and saved them all.
After that Rogue had remained more to herself then ever. They all had comforted her, telling her it would be all right, and inside she
knew it, but the knowledge that there was still a huge organization out there that knew her secrets and weaknesses and wanted her dead was not
exactly a comforting thought.
Now, months later, here she was, albeit with a new sense of paranoia, at the dance. The Halloween dance at her high school.
All the team had said it was impossible, that there had been too many cameras and it had been too widely televised to reverse the
affects. Professor Xavier ignored their pleas and used every fiber of his mental power to erase the images of nearly half a million people's minds
what they had seen about mutants. He could not erase the fight, but he had been able to erase the faces of his children that had been flashed on
the news for weeks. The act had sent him into a type of coma for a week but he soon recovered and was willing to sacrifice much more if that's
what it cost to keep his children safe.
Rogue smiled inwardly relieved to have back a sense of normalcy. To her right Kurt was flirting with some girls, unsuccessfully.
Though, it wasn't entirely his horrible pick up lines…he had decided on an Austin Powers costume for the night and the crushed velvet just
wasn't working for him.
Scott was telling jokes to his friends at the punchbowl wearing a rather tight spider-man costume. Rogue enjoyed the view or his
muscular frame heightened by the tight spandex. But Jean was warding off all attempts by other girls. She had decided on a Mary Jane costume
and was sticking to Scott like glue. Again, the Goth girl smiled. She knew the two were going to get married some day and have a million kids. Her
small crush on the boy was already waning.
The new recruits seemed to form a group of themselves and were having a great time out on the dance floor. Even if all of the boys had
picked the same costume: Jason from Friday the 13th, they were constantly laughing and flirting with the girls that opted for any costume with a
short skirt.
Logan had come dressed as the scariest thing, himself and was leaning against the far wall with Ororo at his side. Her long white hair
was pulled up in to a complicated bun with many tendrils hanging down. Rogue supposed she was going for Marie Antoinette. Whatever, she
looked great and it was obvious that Logan was trying to keep her away from the prying eyes of the horney, testosterone guided boys that kept
glancing at her revealed cleavage. He was doing a good job.
And so, for an hour Rogue had stood by the wall, watching everyone and thinking about all that had happened. Kurt had come up to
her and asked if she wanted to dance, but she declined, saying that her shoes were hurting her too much. And they were!
The only shoes that the costume shop had had were just half a size too small for Rogue, but she had to have the outfit. Something that
eluded her convinced her to go beyond her budget and buy the extravagant dress, wig, shoes, and accessories that made her the Queen of
Hearts.
Her light make up was replaced with pure white powder and her lips were tinted a flaming red to match the hearts that were placed all
around the long white dress. The wig was the same color of her hair, minus the white streaks and was piled high into curls and curls with small
hearts pinned in. Her crown was also a small ornament that rested on the crown of her head and was ornately twirled into a heart shape.
The other's had raised their eyebrows at her strange choice of costume but had quickly let it slide when she gave them the glare. She looked down at the watch and noticed it had only been an hour since they all had arrived and it would be another two hours before any of them would want to leave.
She sighed, really regretting her choice of shoes and heading toward the open door. Hoping that sitting in the cold, autumn air opposed to the hot, stickiness of the dance hall would make her feel better she left the gym and sat down on a near by bench. From the corner of her eye she saw Logan turn toward her but she simply waved her hand at him and nodded. He gave her a curt nod and went back to talking with Ororo.
Rogue lifted her chin and let the slight wind cool her off.
She was content for a few seconds before the tickling sensation appeared on her arm. The white glove had slipped all the way down her upper arm and had gathered in an itchy bundle at her elbow. She raised her other arm to fix it when her hand bumped against another's'.
Her eyes were open in a heartbeat and she found herself staring into the same eyes that had hypnotized her all those months ago.
"You…" she breathed feeling the same sensation she had felt before.
Her stomach was tingly and there were all these sensations around her body that compared to a ticklish feeling. Her breath came in short breaths and her heartbeat quickened.
She allowed him to pull the offensive glove up her arm and shivered as his gloved hand brushed her bare skin. He had brought the glove up all the way and then had run his hand down her arm and had taken her hand in his. He gently kissed her covered knuckles and winked at her.
"Oui, m'chere." He held her hand in his and just smiled at her in that same confident way he had long ago.
Rogue removed her eyes from his for a brief second to notice what he was wearing.
An exact copy of her outfit only made for a man. He looked charming as the King of Hearts.
The crown that he wore atop his head began to slide a bit and she reached up to correct it. His hand met hers again as she straitened the crown and briefly touched his chestnut hair. Now he held both of her hands and commanded her attention with his two brown eyes.
Rogue felt there was something off about his eyes, like they should be a different shade, but allowed the feeling to pass as she heard him speak.
"Would chere care to dance wit' Remy?"
She hardly felt herself think as the warm feeling of his presence washed over her,
"Ah don't think ah'm allowed…"
Remy tsked and shook his head at her.
"Why would 'dat be, chere? Remy only wanna' dance wit' a fine belle. C'est bien, non?"
"You're the enemy…"
The boy frowned at this and the lines that had been hidden when he smiled appeared around his eyes when he frowned. He started to lean in close to her and Rogue flinched.
He continued and was merely a breath away from her ear.
"Remy don' wanna' be your enemy. Remy only wanna' dance."
Before she could object he was pulling her up by her hands and had his body pressed closed to hers. His tall, thin, muscular frame seemed to fit her curved one almost perfectly. Remy ran his hands along her back and let one hand rest on her hip while the other took her hand. He started to move in a small circle and Rogue followed, lost in his eyes, afraid to look away. She didn't notice that he had started to move her away from the gym doors.
All the time they danced he either gazed at her or leaned in and whispered strange phrases of French into her ear and hair. He had moved his hands to her back and was pressing her smaller form to his. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, praying this was not a dream, but if it had to be then let her never wake up.
For the first time in a long while she felt safe and had an overwhelming feeling that everything was going to be all right.
Remy eventually stopped dancing and started to pull away from her. She looked up at him, missing his heat that had flowed through the fabric of her dress, and saw that there was something akin to tears dewing his eyes. For the first time she saw that the white area looked a bit too dark and there was red shining through the brown haze of his eyes.
"T'ank you fo' the dance, chere, but Remy 'fraid he can't-."
Rogue pushed her gloved fingers onto his lips. She felt their moistness through the fabric and was ready to die right there.
She looked him strait in the eyes.
"Ah don't want ya to go."
Remy embraced her and kissed her hair and even planted a brief kiss on her forehead recieveing a small pain comparable to static shock.
He finally pulled away and held her at arms length.
"Chere, Remy promise he will be back for you. Can't you wait a bit longa'?
She nodded feeling tears beginning to form. He smiled at her and began to back away from her. Within seconds he had faded into the shadows.
Rogue knew it hopeless to search for him; he would find her when he was ready.
So she turned away and started to head back towards the gym. As she walked the glove began to fall down again. With a snarl she pulled it up but instead found herself being turned around.
Gentle hands pulled the glove completely off of her arm.
Rogue barely knew what was happening before she felt warm, wet lips attacking her own. For the briefest of seconds Remy held her and kissed her. From head to two Rogue fought off the familiar connection that came with contact of flesh on flesh. She held her mutation at bay for a few seconds but began to feel its pull.
Remy somehow sensed it and moved away, winked at her and then dashed into the shadows again.
Rogue stared at where he had been, dazed by the amazing thing that had just happened.
She was only brought out of her state of bliss when a strong hand pulled on her bare arm and turned her around. Logan quickly removed his bare hand and flicked it as if he had put it on something to hot.
Rogue saw his angry face but didn't feel anything but contentment about everything.
"What are ya doin' out here, Stripes?" Logan drawled, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He took in everything from the flushed
cheeks, the missing glove and the musky scent that clung all around her. Somebody had been all over the girl and yet she was smiling like no tomorrow.
Concern was evident and he looked all around the area to see if anyone was still there. No one was and so he was forced to question the only one there.
"What's going on Stripes?"
Rogue shook her head, the feeling of warmth starting to fade from her and looked Logan strait in the eye. With her usual smirk she just lifted her skirt and walked past him.
"Nothin' ta worry about. Ah was just playing a bit a poker…"
I know, I know the general feeling is "Cry Havoc! And Let Loose the dogs of war!" (a cookie to anyone that will name what play this is from, well not a real cookie.) I am progressing and the new chapter of Hiding should be out in two weeks at the most. Please hold tight and thanks for reading,
Love, always,
Caramia~
Yes…that's exactly what happened.
Just kidding, ha ha. But, since the fiction doesn't want to write itself (dag-nab-it) it's going to take a while. I have chapter…something… typed up for the most part. So hang tight and read this while I go work on that.
Disclaimer: I don't own the x-men, the characters, the cool drawings, the masses of animators, the voice actors, the studio, the television I watch it on, the car in my driveway or the house that I live in! I got nothing'…
On with the show…
For the seventh time that evening Rogue pulled up on the white glove that covered her entire arm. The satiny fabric refused to stay put
on her pale arm and would slide down every time she bent her elbow. She bent her arm slightly, allowing a little pull in the fabric and then set her
arm strait again. It seemed to work, and the glove remained in place.
From her spot in the room she could see all of her teammates laughing, dancing, and having a good time.
A good time…it had been months since any of them could really even think about enjoying their young lives. That day so long ago
still had a way of lingering and turning every happy moment bitter even now. Rogue remembered every detail of it. Everything from teaming up
with the Brotherhood, fighting the strange new forces…that boy…getting covered in a paralyzing slime…that boy…His eyes were etched on her
mind no matter how hard she tried to forget.
Even during those few weeks…Rogue closed her eyes again, shaking her head as if to send the memories flying out. For nearly a
month those monsters and mutant-haters had held her, experimented on her, and tortured her. Her sense of being had been lost, replaced by the
overwhelming feeling of shame they had given her. She had been a guinea pig to them, a toy even to be taken out for their leisure and then
returned to a small cage when they were done with her. And the games they used to play with her. She would lie on those tables for hours while they forced her to absorb her fellow mutants. It was never for long, but she had to watch as they writhed in the pain. Her mutation was horrible,
and the less she had to use it the happier she was.
And then, finally her team had come. In all of their heroic glory that had come and rescued them all. It was right out of the movies the
way they blasted their way into the dark underground levels of the laboratory where they were being kept. With fire erupting from hands and
eyes, ice shooting from fingertips, and all their unearthly powers they had stormed in and saved them all.
After that Rogue had remained more to herself then ever. They all had comforted her, telling her it would be all right, and inside she
knew it, but the knowledge that there was still a huge organization out there that knew her secrets and weaknesses and wanted her dead was not
exactly a comforting thought.
Now, months later, here she was, albeit with a new sense of paranoia, at the dance. The Halloween dance at her high school.
All the team had said it was impossible, that there had been too many cameras and it had been too widely televised to reverse the
affects. Professor Xavier ignored their pleas and used every fiber of his mental power to erase the images of nearly half a million people's minds
what they had seen about mutants. He could not erase the fight, but he had been able to erase the faces of his children that had been flashed on
the news for weeks. The act had sent him into a type of coma for a week but he soon recovered and was willing to sacrifice much more if that's
what it cost to keep his children safe.
Rogue smiled inwardly relieved to have back a sense of normalcy. To her right Kurt was flirting with some girls, unsuccessfully.
Though, it wasn't entirely his horrible pick up lines…he had decided on an Austin Powers costume for the night and the crushed velvet just
wasn't working for him.
Scott was telling jokes to his friends at the punchbowl wearing a rather tight spider-man costume. Rogue enjoyed the view or his
muscular frame heightened by the tight spandex. But Jean was warding off all attempts by other girls. She had decided on a Mary Jane costume
and was sticking to Scott like glue. Again, the Goth girl smiled. She knew the two were going to get married some day and have a million kids. Her
small crush on the boy was already waning.
The new recruits seemed to form a group of themselves and were having a great time out on the dance floor. Even if all of the boys had
picked the same costume: Jason from Friday the 13th, they were constantly laughing and flirting with the girls that opted for any costume with a
short skirt.
Logan had come dressed as the scariest thing, himself and was leaning against the far wall with Ororo at his side. Her long white hair
was pulled up in to a complicated bun with many tendrils hanging down. Rogue supposed she was going for Marie Antoinette. Whatever, she
looked great and it was obvious that Logan was trying to keep her away from the prying eyes of the horney, testosterone guided boys that kept
glancing at her revealed cleavage. He was doing a good job.
And so, for an hour Rogue had stood by the wall, watching everyone and thinking about all that had happened. Kurt had come up to
her and asked if she wanted to dance, but she declined, saying that her shoes were hurting her too much. And they were!
The only shoes that the costume shop had had were just half a size too small for Rogue, but she had to have the outfit. Something that
eluded her convinced her to go beyond her budget and buy the extravagant dress, wig, shoes, and accessories that made her the Queen of
Hearts.
Her light make up was replaced with pure white powder and her lips were tinted a flaming red to match the hearts that were placed all
around the long white dress. The wig was the same color of her hair, minus the white streaks and was piled high into curls and curls with small
hearts pinned in. Her crown was also a small ornament that rested on the crown of her head and was ornately twirled into a heart shape.
The other's had raised their eyebrows at her strange choice of costume but had quickly let it slide when she gave them the glare. She looked down at the watch and noticed it had only been an hour since they all had arrived and it would be another two hours before any of them would want to leave.
She sighed, really regretting her choice of shoes and heading toward the open door. Hoping that sitting in the cold, autumn air opposed to the hot, stickiness of the dance hall would make her feel better she left the gym and sat down on a near by bench. From the corner of her eye she saw Logan turn toward her but she simply waved her hand at him and nodded. He gave her a curt nod and went back to talking with Ororo.
Rogue lifted her chin and let the slight wind cool her off.
She was content for a few seconds before the tickling sensation appeared on her arm. The white glove had slipped all the way down her upper arm and had gathered in an itchy bundle at her elbow. She raised her other arm to fix it when her hand bumped against another's'.
Her eyes were open in a heartbeat and she found herself staring into the same eyes that had hypnotized her all those months ago.
"You…" she breathed feeling the same sensation she had felt before.
Her stomach was tingly and there were all these sensations around her body that compared to a ticklish feeling. Her breath came in short breaths and her heartbeat quickened.
She allowed him to pull the offensive glove up her arm and shivered as his gloved hand brushed her bare skin. He had brought the glove up all the way and then had run his hand down her arm and had taken her hand in his. He gently kissed her covered knuckles and winked at her.
"Oui, m'chere." He held her hand in his and just smiled at her in that same confident way he had long ago.
Rogue removed her eyes from his for a brief second to notice what he was wearing.
An exact copy of her outfit only made for a man. He looked charming as the King of Hearts.
The crown that he wore atop his head began to slide a bit and she reached up to correct it. His hand met hers again as she straitened the crown and briefly touched his chestnut hair. Now he held both of her hands and commanded her attention with his two brown eyes.
Rogue felt there was something off about his eyes, like they should be a different shade, but allowed the feeling to pass as she heard him speak.
"Would chere care to dance wit' Remy?"
She hardly felt herself think as the warm feeling of his presence washed over her,
"Ah don't think ah'm allowed…"
Remy tsked and shook his head at her.
"Why would 'dat be, chere? Remy only wanna' dance wit' a fine belle. C'est bien, non?"
"You're the enemy…"
The boy frowned at this and the lines that had been hidden when he smiled appeared around his eyes when he frowned. He started to lean in close to her and Rogue flinched.
He continued and was merely a breath away from her ear.
"Remy don' wanna' be your enemy. Remy only wanna' dance."
Before she could object he was pulling her up by her hands and had his body pressed closed to hers. His tall, thin, muscular frame seemed to fit her curved one almost perfectly. Remy ran his hands along her back and let one hand rest on her hip while the other took her hand. He started to move in a small circle and Rogue followed, lost in his eyes, afraid to look away. She didn't notice that he had started to move her away from the gym doors.
All the time they danced he either gazed at her or leaned in and whispered strange phrases of French into her ear and hair. He had moved his hands to her back and was pressing her smaller form to his. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, praying this was not a dream, but if it had to be then let her never wake up.
For the first time in a long while she felt safe and had an overwhelming feeling that everything was going to be all right.
Remy eventually stopped dancing and started to pull away from her. She looked up at him, missing his heat that had flowed through the fabric of her dress, and saw that there was something akin to tears dewing his eyes. For the first time she saw that the white area looked a bit too dark and there was red shining through the brown haze of his eyes.
"T'ank you fo' the dance, chere, but Remy 'fraid he can't-."
Rogue pushed her gloved fingers onto his lips. She felt their moistness through the fabric and was ready to die right there.
She looked him strait in the eyes.
"Ah don't want ya to go."
Remy embraced her and kissed her hair and even planted a brief kiss on her forehead recieveing a small pain comparable to static shock.
He finally pulled away and held her at arms length.
"Chere, Remy promise he will be back for you. Can't you wait a bit longa'?
She nodded feeling tears beginning to form. He smiled at her and began to back away from her. Within seconds he had faded into the shadows.
Rogue knew it hopeless to search for him; he would find her when he was ready.
So she turned away and started to head back towards the gym. As she walked the glove began to fall down again. With a snarl she pulled it up but instead found herself being turned around.
Gentle hands pulled the glove completely off of her arm.
Rogue barely knew what was happening before she felt warm, wet lips attacking her own. For the briefest of seconds Remy held her and kissed her. From head to two Rogue fought off the familiar connection that came with contact of flesh on flesh. She held her mutation at bay for a few seconds but began to feel its pull.
Remy somehow sensed it and moved away, winked at her and then dashed into the shadows again.
Rogue stared at where he had been, dazed by the amazing thing that had just happened.
She was only brought out of her state of bliss when a strong hand pulled on her bare arm and turned her around. Logan quickly removed his bare hand and flicked it as if he had put it on something to hot.
Rogue saw his angry face but didn't feel anything but contentment about everything.
"What are ya doin' out here, Stripes?" Logan drawled, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He took in everything from the flushed
cheeks, the missing glove and the musky scent that clung all around her. Somebody had been all over the girl and yet she was smiling like no tomorrow.
Concern was evident and he looked all around the area to see if anyone was still there. No one was and so he was forced to question the only one there.
"What's going on Stripes?"
Rogue shook her head, the feeling of warmth starting to fade from her and looked Logan strait in the eye. With her usual smirk she just lifted her skirt and walked past him.
"Nothin' ta worry about. Ah was just playing a bit a poker…"
I know, I know the general feeling is "Cry Havoc! And Let Loose the dogs of war!" (a cookie to anyone that will name what play this is from, well not a real cookie.) I am progressing and the new chapter of Hiding should be out in two weeks at the most. Please hold tight and thanks for reading,
Love, always,
Caramia~