So after finishing my first fic, I decided that I just wasn't finished with ROMY, so here is a story about them that may take things in a hot direction quite fast! Hope you enjoy!
Oh and as always I own nothing Marvel does, those greedy bastards own Remy and I would totally buy him off of them if I could, Rogue too, but sadly I can't and so I write these stories; but I digress, here's the story.
Chapter 1-Hot Summer Days With Gorgeous Waitresses
The one thing I'll never forget
How his heat permeated everything.
He remembered the day he first met her. If he had known then what he did now maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have let himself get the better of him. Maybe he would've put a stop to the pain and suffering. He never thought he was very smart, but he knew about these kinds of things. Was supposed to know how to deal with these kinds of situations. It was a liability if he didn't. He was never one to follow the rules.
He sat down at the counter of that tiny little diner on Seventh Street on a warm, humid, July morning. The Louisiana heat mixed with the moisture and was causing everything in the room to curl and warp in odd ways. The French Quarter had yet to come to life; it was too early for the type of excitement that Remy Lebeau was used to in his home town. But then again he was too exhausted to even enjoy the chaos that was New Orleans at this current moment.
His limbs ached for the first time in a long while as he pushed himself onto a worn wooden stool at the edge of the counter, brushing his trench behind him so he could sit more comfortably. He cracked his neck and let out a yawn as the waitress pushed a menu toward him. He rubbed his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin as his blood red irises scanned the various items on the small plastic covered menu. It was too early to think let alone get out a coherent order for a meal, but he had to be here. He yawned yet again as he told the waitress to bring him an extra strong cup of coffee and nothing else. She smiled at him tiredly as she disappeared to fetch him his order.
Remy looked down at his hands. They were dirty, both literally and figuratively. So was the life of the Prince of Thieves. He had just gotten back from a job, had hitched a ride on a commercial flight from Paris, had just stolen an ancient ceremonial mask from some private owner and handed it over to a black market dealer, for the right price of course. The job had been trickier than first thought, but Remy put the blame of that on the damn, greedy client, although he could never admit this to anyone but himself. The client had demanded that the mask be transported through a specific channel, which wasn't the first time a client had requested to do so, what was the tricky part was that particular channel happened to be monitored by Interpol for such black market transportation. Gambit knew this, the client knew this, his team knew this and yet they still went along with it. For vast sums of money his father would most likely lay down his prodigal's son's life or at least Gambit like to think so.
The second Gambit hit the channel he knew he was being watched, and rather than risk getting caught he high-tailed his thieving ass out of there and caught the first connecting flight to Paris, the European head quarters for the guild. Once there he detailed to his client the issues he faced and once again the bumbling fool wanted to send him back to the prior drop off point. At this point, Gambit had been close to letting the man have a piece of his mind, but remembered that his father wouldn't be too happy with him if he did, not that it mattered much to Gambit how his father felt at any moment in time. Nevertheless, he had to sneak his way back into the channel and confirm the drop off of the item to his client who seemed far from pleased, igniting frustration once again in the demon-eyed man.
Needless to say, Gambit was having a hard time getting used to the fact that he had to take orders which resulted in the unnecessary beating of his client which Gambit took great pleasure in, as the man had been a pain his royal ass the entire time he had been contracted to work for him. Rule number one of the thieves guild: never get caught, rule number two: always please the client but when large amounts of cash came into the equation rule number one could be pushed aside and have slightly less weight than rule number two. Because of Gambit's blatant breaking of rules, he was being reviewed by the council, hence his current position in this tiny diner. Henri, his older brother, and right hand man to the council leader i.e. Jean Luc Lebeau, i.e. Remy's father, had requested they meet to discuss the terms of the council's assessment of the damages Remy had caused to their reputation. He really wished he didn't have to be here.
The waitress had finally returned with his coffee and placed it in front of him with a small smile before adding that she would not be his waitress anymore because her shift was over and that some other waitress with an odd name that piqued Gambit's curiosity could help him if he needed anything else. He nodded sleepily as he took a sip of his coffee that tasted like it had been brewed from acid and watched as the waitress removed her apron and walked away, his eyes glued to her backside. He wondered idly why she had been hired if she made such a horrible mockery of coffee, and then he realized that the way her hips swayed would give most men the idea to tip heavily. He smiled, the world was just as perverse if not more so than he was. It was a good way to feel sometimes.
After a few more sips of his coffee, Remy decided to keep the cup as far away from him as possible, lest he get some sort of sickness from the bitterness. He watched the fat Cajun cook from the tiny window that revealed the kitchen as he cracked some eggs to fry and had bacon sizzling on the grill already. If Henri didn't hurry up Remy was going to leave and find solace in the comfort of his king sized bed in his room with black out curtains. It was far too early for him to be up. Remy took a look at his watch, it read 5:32. If Henri didn't show up in the next three minutes Remy was leaving and taking his bed up on its offer of a sound night's (day's) sleep. But sadly just as he lifted his head to check the door for the hundredth time, this time he actually saw Henri's tall slender body and curly brown hair bustling through it. He muttered under his breath as he turned around and took a sip of his coffee, choking on it when he remembered the acid taste.
"Frérot (little brother)," Henri said with a sheepish smile as Remy stood up and hugged him.
"Henri," Remy stated with a deep breath as he took comfort in his older brother's presence. Henri had always had a calming effect on him, ever since they were boys and especially when it came down to guild issues; Remy knew he could always count on Henri to have his back.
"So why do ya have ta find at leas' one way ta piss off père a week?" Henri joked as he took a seat on the stool beside Remy, placing his hands in front of him as he stared at Remy with a reproving smile.
"Je ne sais pas (I don't know), Henri, cause it be fun," Remy joked back with a roll of his eyes as he went back to the cup of coffee and then thankfully remembering the taste before he actually had to drink, pushed it aside. "What be de word wit' de council anyway?"
Henri's expression took on a grave tone as he shifted ever so slightly on the stool and took to looking at the cook as Remy had to keep his brown eyed gaze away from his brother's demon eyed one. Henri knew that he might as well be admitting to him that it was a fight that he wouldn't win. The brothers had been schooled in the intricacies of body language, and how one movement or blink could give away whole thoughts, motives, and truths. Remy knew before Henri's movement that his fate had already been sealed; he had just hoped that he could have had some say in it. Remy swiveled on the stool and faced the cook, both brothers staring blankly at the rather large, dark man humming to himself while he flipped pancakes and sizzled bacon. Life could be so simple, for the lucky ones.
"It's not ya fault frérot, it's just de rules of de guild," Henri mumbled still staring at the cook.
"Je Sais frère, c'est amer (I know, bro it's bitter) is all," Remy stated plainly as he thought of the coffee. He figured he might as well order another one; maybe ask for a side of bourbon if they had it. This was definitely a time to mourn. Remy waited for the new waitress to pass by to order and was overcome by the beauty of the young girl who walked by him, a tray perfectly balanced in her small, delicate, creamy hands.
"Ya know, its not de end of de world or anyt'ing Rems, it's just de guild's way of keeping everyt'ing in order, makin' an example out of ya. They'll be knocking on ya door in no time, ya wait an' see," Henri encouraged as he stared out of the corner of his eye at his brother, Remy's signature wolfish grin, showing its beginnings on the man's lips.
"Rem, are ya paying attention?" Henri laughed at him quietly. But Remy was too busy watching the goddess in a waitress uniform pass out meals to listen to anything besides the beating of his own heart and the throb that was making itself known quite a bit more south.
The woman was absolutely gorgeous and Remy had to make sure she knew it. He flagged her down, he had forgotten about the coffee he just needed to get this woman to speak and then maybe after a few sweet nothings and devilish smirks he could get her to moan. The second Henri saw Remy eyeing the waitress he knew he might as well leave, when Remy got his mind on a woman there was no dealing with him until he had had his fill of the fille. The waitress, already looking tired but still outrageously beautiful, walked up with downcast eyes and waited for Remy's order. She wasn't really paying any attention to him, she just needed to be there, and it was her job after all to wait.
Remy gazed up at the angel standing in front of him, he had been wrong when he said she was gorgeous, she was so much more than that, she was dazzling, stunning, strikingly beautiful. She was slender with milky white skin and a body that screamed sin. Her ample breasts were covered by a simple white tank top and her shapely hips and behind were encased in tight black shorts. But this was not where Remy was looking; he was overcome by the angel's emerald locked orbs, wide and deep, and dazzling, framed by two strands of white that fell from auburn locks held in a messy, curly bun. She was fiddling with her bottom lip, red and plump and Remy couldn't keep his eyes from darting to the perfect attribute and notice a small cut mark. He looked back up at her eyes and for the first time saw that there was a slight purple hue around her left eye that was only partially hidden by makeup. His wolfish grin automatically turned to a scowl as anger flooded his veins. She waited quietly, almost shyly for him to order before Henri finally spoke.
"Remy, homme vous y (man are you there)?" Henri whispered as his brother was taken over by his thoughts. Henri shrugged it off and politely ordered. "Well in any case, I'll take a cup o' coffee."
"Nothing for ya, sugah?" the angel asked curiously. Remy's eyes immediately darted up to hers and she was lost in the ruby waves set upon a sea of onyx, she began to gnaw at her lip again nervously. This man was making her extremely uncomfortable.
"Faire que les deux (make that two) coffees, chérie," Remy said as he kept staring into her eyes. She felt shaken up, could this stranger really see past her carefully crafted façade? For a moment the two did nothing but stare until finally Henri made a coughing sound and the waitress was startled and quickly straightened up, plastered on a fake smile for Henri's sake and slowly walked away, not before sending a few looks over her shoulder at Remy though.
"Homme, je Sais pas comment vous le faites (Man, I don't know how you do it)," Henri commented lightly, shaking his head and smiling at his younger brother. Sometimes he just wondered how he made women swoon without so much as saying a full sentence.
Henri was waiting for a response but he wasn't going to get it. Remy's attention was still on the beautiful goddess with the pain etched into her emeralds, the ones set in her eyes. How could someone so magnificently gorgeous, be so riddled with pain? The second he had seen the marks he had wanted to run to her, console her, as well as bury whoever had caused this dazzling creature pain. This feeling was odd. He'd never felt this kind of connection to any woman that wasn't family, let alone some stranger. Remy was overwhelmed with thoughts as Henri continued to glare at him awaiting an answer. Finally Henri gave Remy a signaling whistle to see if he was still paying attention and Remy snapped back to reality.
"Je suis désole (I'm sorry)," Remy told his brother as he shook his head and tried to bring his gaze to the curly haired Cajun sitting beside him.
"Ya okay dere Rems?" Henri asked half concerned, half mockingly.
"Hmm?" Remy answered once again lost in the many thoughts and images of the waitress that had been floating through his mind. "Oui just-"
"De waitress, Rogue," Henri mentioned playfully. "Yeah I caught dat already, homme."
"Ya know her?" Remy asked eagerly and somewhat confusedly.
How did Henri know the goddess? Did he know about her past, about the pain written in her eyes? Did he know why she was hurting internally and externally?
"Oui, frérot, she's our waitress," Henri stated simply and watched as Remy sighed and rolled his eyes before diverting his attention back to watching the waitress hand out plates.
"But-"Henri began in a teasing tone and Remy's ears perked up automatically.
"But what?" Remy asked excitedly.
"Dat dere fille is also a contact of de guild's. She has connections wit your ol' ami, Logan," Henri teased yet again.
"Ya kidding," Remy stated in awe as he stared at the slender woman.
"Non, she used ta be an X-Man, befo' she moved down here."
Remy whistled and looked back at his brother. He had had his fair share of run-ins with the X-Men but never before had he witnessed such a beauty on their team, nor could he ever remember her face amongst the many that composed the team. But then again the majority of the time he ran into them he was doing exactly that running. His relationship with Logan on the other hand was somewhat less strained, at least at the moment. They had a way of helping each other out without the knowledge of the X-Men; the two would swap information concerning targets often, always covertly of course.
"What happened? Why'd de fille leave?" Remy kept asking questions, he wanted answers, wanted to better know his angel.
Henri merely shrugged as he saw Rogue approaching with their coffee in her hands. He smiled idly at Remy, winking at him before giving Rogue a sheepish grin and taking a sip of the coffee. She placed Remy's cup in front of him and dashed away awkwardly, she was scared that if she lingered too long another staring match would result and she could not afford to be caught lollygagging at work. As soon as she was out of earshot Henri resumed their conversation.
"Anyways, as far as why de fille left New York, it's not certain but de guild t'ink it might have something ta do wit her powers. She lost 'em," Henri continued. "But we're not really inclined ta find out de whole story as dat fille is a très bon contact and we plan on keeping 'er."
Remy looked away for a moment to digest what he had just heard and at that moment he heard Henri whistle yet again in shock, and look down at his watch in such a fake manner that Remy swore Henri might as well have just left without saying goodbye.
"Well look at de time frérot, Mercy gon kill me if I ain't home for breakfast an' ya know moi got de guild meetin' ta be at ta put a bon word in for ya ungrateful ass so I'll leave ya to ya coffee and see ya later," Henri stated as he took one more sip from his and stood up.
The brothers embraced and Henri left Remy to sit at the counter and gape at Rogue longingly. Only moments after Henri left, Remy decided he too should leave. He paid the bill, leaving a rather generous tip (a hundred dollars to be exact) and then taking his leave to that comfy and alluring bed and its promise of sleep, but not before making a call to an old friend for information.
"Bonjour, mon ami, guess who?" he practically sang into the phone as he walked down the street, the first morning light beginning to light the French Quarter and people began to fill the streets with music and the sweet smell of freshly baked pastries, Remy stopped for a moment to test some beignets at a small stand before continuing on as the person on the other line grunted a hello. He wondered how long this conversation was going to take even with someone as short sighted and impatient as his old friend.