Hi! Gosh, I have several unfinished fics that I should be working on but i couldn't rest until I wrote something for Rogue and Remy. I've wanted to for forever, but nothing ever finished itself!!! (how mean, right?) But as I was sitting here, avoiding filling out my schedule for next semester's classes, I started typing. Maybe It needs help, maybe its fine. Either way, its getting posted. :)
I do not own Rogue, Remy, and/or any other mutants. But Marvel is like the rich kid on the block, and lets me play with its toys so I'll be its friend. That, or they just don't know.
Please
R&R, either at Eileenblzr@yahoo.com, or ffnet. Also, I'm not
like one of those people who say they can't get the accent right and then
do a tiggerific job. I really can't do accents. Sorry.
Strangers in the Night
By Eileen Blazer
January 2003
It has to be a dream
a world so pristine
I turn my wide-eyed gaze
on crashing violet waves
and I think, nay, I believe
either my eyes decieve
or it has to be a dream
They say when you're dreaming, you don't know it until you wake up. But as Rogue soaked in her strange surroundings, she knew it had to be a dream.
Rogue was walking, black and blue-gray clouds beneath her feet, cool mist swirling around her body. It had to be a dream, there was no other explanation. When, in the waking hours, had she ever seen the stars hover around her like fireflies, their flames intense, yet not consuming?
She reached out to her other side and touched a water lily. Not the conventional sort, but a lily actually made of pristine liquid. It curved in where her fingers were, but filled out the minute she pulled away.
It had to be a dream. There was no solid ground to hold her feet, no sense of reality whatsoever. Only strange, bizarre beauty.
A light glowed in the distance. Her head cocked to the side, her mind pondering the source. What would shine so brightly? In this place, it could be anything. A giant lantern? A lit match?
"Dis yo' world, Chere?" The voice came and went, startling her. She spun around, looking for the speaker but he wasn't there. It sounded so familiar, as though she should have known it.
It had to be dream. Every step she took was punctuated by a sound, like a bell ringing from atop some ancient church. There was a breeze, and she drew the slippery silk black robe tighter around her shoulders.
Rogue payed some attention to her attire. It wasn't something she would have chosen for herself; the sleek gown under her robe was a bit too risque to wear around the mansion. Yet it was nice, made her feel elegant and graceful, like some kind of old fashioned movie star.
"You always look so good, Chere?" There was the voice again, the purr of a man. But she was alone with the red waterfalls raining down on nowhere.
It had to be a dream. Maybe if she called to him, he would answer. He would step out of his hiding place and meet her, eye to eye. It was burning inside of her to know what kind of man would be in this kind of place.
"Who are ya?" She asked the purple sky above her. "Where are ya?" She demanded of the golden mountains.
"You da one who t'ought dis place up?" This time he was behind her; she twirled around one hundred and eighty degree and gasped.
He was beautiful.
His eyes were like rubies set in a black night, twinkling. They drank her in slowly, starting at her 'skunk' hair and running down her body like warm water during a shower, glued to every part of her.
Hair auburn, features fierce, yet softened by the senuous, sinuous mouth. Full lips, not really smiling, but curved as to give the appearance of it.
He was taller than her, thin but not skinny, dressed in a pair of loose black slacks and an unbuttoned black shirt. Like her, he was barefoot.
She licked her lips and tried not to notice how it affected him. "This ain't muh world. Ah was kinda hopin' ya could explain things..."
The man with the ruby eyes glanced around. "Wish I could. I'm just as lost as you, Chere." He reached for her hand and she flinched away instiinstinctively.
It had to be a dream, but she wasn't taking any chances. Her new accquaintance wasn't discouraged though. He stepped closer and placed two hands on her shoulders, the warmth creeping through her thin robe."But bein' lost ain't so bad, anymo'."
She swallowed hard, trying to pretend there was more than two inches between them. If he even leaned in a little, he might...
"Ah ain't ya 'dear'. So why da ya keep callin' meh that?" She jerked back.
"De femme knows french?" Already, he was advancing again.
"Qui."
"Ah, such a perfect girl. 'F I wasn' so sure I'm goin' t' Hell, I'd t'ink I'd died an' gone t' heav'n." She tried to back up and found her back against a wall of smooth diamonds. Her companion placed a hand on either side of her head and once again closed much of the distance between them.
"Ain't ya bein' a little forward? Ah just met ya." She asked the man, though the husky tone of her own voice surprised her.
"Qui." He got even closer. "But dis all be a dream, and I don' wanna was'e de chance."
"The chance...?"
He nodded, staring at her with those crimson pools. "De chance ta kiss de belle of my dreams. Dat would be a was'e, non?" Her eyes grew wide as he lowered his mouth to hers, his lips melting against her own.
For a moment she couldn't so anything; she was too scared to move at all. But after several seconds, when he kept kissing her and didn't keel over dead, she began to respond, disregarding the fact that she didn't even know him.
She'd never kissed anyone like this. A peck on lips maybe, just long enough to make them stumble. Never so prolonged, sweet...
...perfect.
She felt his smile as he realized she was kissing him back, his hands pulling hers up and around his neck, then sliding down her gown to rest possesively at her waist.
It had to be a dream, and she never wanted to wake up again. If this was how it felt to touch without barriers, it was no wonder Scott spent his life pining after Jean. No question of why Kitty and Lance risked detention to sneak out of class to spend time together.
No one told ever told her she was being denied heaven itself.
Her knees were growing weak and wobbly. The man seemed to sense this, and lifted her up off the ground, in one swift movement drawing her completely into his arms, never breaking away.
Were
this real life, they would have needed air, but that didn't even occur
to the lip-locking strangers. The kiss was enough to sustain them.
What
finally did draw them apart was the need to know the person in their arms.
She remained in his embrace, staring up at him. "So." Rogue said, somewhat breathlessly. "Ya got a name?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but frowned. Rogue knew why, she had the same odd feeling in her own stomach all of a sudden. A feeling very different that the warm sensation that had filled her during their meeting.
He tried to talk again, but the words wouldn't come out. She tried to say something too, and encountered the same problem.
And then...
light flashing...
she closed her eyes...
opened them...
and saw Kitty, tapping her foot.
"Geez, Rogue. Its about time you woke up. I've been trying to wake you for, like, an hour." She pointed a pink fingernail at the clock on her nightstand. "You're going to be late for school." The brunette wandered away from her bedside, picking picking up the clothes her friend had layed out the night before.
"Put these on. And I'd hurry, Scott said he wasn't going to wait again after yesterday when we..." The remainder of what Kitty said was lost as her form exited the room and disappeared around the hall.
Rogue sat up, fingering the black tank top. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember what. Her feet slipped off of the bed, and she sighed.
Her dream. She knew she'd been having one, and the memories of it lingered in the back of her mind, refusing to surface and clear the early morning confusion.
Had it been a good dream? She believed so; her sleep was far too restful to have been tainted by a nightmare. But what about? Had any of her friends"Geez, Rogue. Its about time you woke up. I've been trying to wake you for, like, an hour." She pointed a pink fingernail at the clock on her nightstand. "You're going to be late for school." The brunette wandered away from her bedside, picking picking up the clothes her friend had layed out the night before.
"Put these on. And I'd hurry, Scott said he wasn't going to wait again after yesterday when we..." The remainder of what Kitty said was lost as her form exited the room and disappeared around the hall.
Rogue sat up, fingering the black tank top. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't remember what. Her feet slipped off of the bed, and she sighed.
Her dream. She knew she'd been having one, and the memories of it lingered in the back of her mind, refusing to surface and clear the early morning confusion.
Had it been a good dream? She believed so; her sleep was far too restful to have been tainted by a nightmare. But what about? Had any of her friends been there?
Or...
She could've met the man of her dreams, literally. Had he been immune to her powers?
Or, maybe, in her dreams, she'd finally had the chance to wipe the grin off that infuriatingly smug Cajun lackey of Magneto's. Ever since that day he handed her the glowing card and nearly blown her hand off, she'd have killed for a chance at revenge.
As Rogue threw on her clothes, everything from the black tank top, to the sheer purple blouse, to the black and white shoes tied over fishnet stockings, she imagined both scenarios in as much detail as she could think of.
But she
never imagined they were both true.
Let the morning storm in
though it acts in gravest sin
stealing blue flowers
and razing golden towers
i know, though memories have fled
either astray I have been led
or it must have been a dream
Fin