| DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters in the story belong to Marvel. No, I don't have permission to 'borrow' them, but no infringement intended, blah,blah,blah. Please, please, please do not reproduce this story in part or in whole anywhere without at least asking me first! Thank you...Oh, yes, and thanks in part to F, F & M. You know who you are AND why. email me at: psiren@x-men.com Author's Note: Displacement - Part One Never mind it was the best of times, it was the worst of times'. This was, without question, the worst of times.Maybe it had been something in the water, but tempers and attitudes at the Academy had been next to unbearable all day. Cyclops had been like a bear with a sore head, expressly forbidding anyone to leave until he lifted the curfew that he had imposed for some anally retentive reason. Gambit and Wolverine, naturally, had slipped quietly out and were now heading down town, looking for a little entertainment. They had sniggered like schoolboys the whole time - the whole concept of disobeying one of Cyclops' direct orders proving too much to resist. Gambit pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears and jammed his hands in his pockets. Night was most definitely falling now and it was a little on the chilly side. He missed the humidity and what some would call oppressive air of the bayou sometimes. But then..he'd survived Antarctica, so what was a little north wind amongst friends? As they walked, they crossed past the front of the Old Town Bar, a night spot notorious for the number of people who left through the glass window at the front. Glancing up briefly, his eyes caught by the movement and lights inside, Remy's eyes, behind their shades, briefly alit on a young girl, of around nineteen, but doing her utmost to look older - standing behind the bar looking forlornly back at him. In that fraction of a second, something unspoken and unseen passed between them - a recognition, perhaps? An understanding? Remy shook his head irritably and he and Wolverine continued past the bar. He couldn't resist throwing a casual glance back again, however. Anna O'Shea had her attention yanked away from the two men passing by when the man in front of her reached over the bar and grabbed for her, trying to lock his lips on hers in a drunken kiss. She dodged nimbly back and treated him to one of her colder stares. "C'mon, baby, ya know ya want me," he slurred, smiling at her. "I suggest you keep your hands to yourself," she said, politely, but firmly, her English accent cutting through his Bronx drawl like a knife. She didn't know how much more of this crap she could stand. She had only taken the job in the first place because the owner had promised her a stint on the stage. Well, that had yet to happen and Anna's patience was beginning to fray. She sighed heavily and turned to pour another glass of whisky for the guy the other side of the bar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and for the briefest moment surveyed herself critically. She wasn't bad looking, she knew that - her fair skin positively glowed with health and her shiny black hair curled around her face, falling to just below her shoulders. Her small nose and full lips were perfectly set off by her large, dark blue eyes. And it was those eyes that caught her attention now. They were definitely taking on a purplish hue, and she was frightened by that, not really understanding the implication of what it could mean. The ugly ridges just behind her ears seemed to be growing, too, and she had no idea what they were. She couldn't afford to visit a doctor, but knew that she had to do something soon. Her attention not entirely on the matter in hand, her heart stopped as the drunk across the bar got hold of her again and pulled her by the lapels towards him. "I'm gonna get what I want, baby," he said, "an' there ain't nothing you can do 'bout it." Anna struggled to break free of his grip, but he held her tightly, too tightly. "C'mon," he rasped hoarsely in her ear. "Put out for me, baby." Anna sighed inwardly. Here we go again, she thought. She suddenly altered her attitude and fluttered her eyelashes at the man. "Not here," she said, gently. "Let's...go somewhere a little more private..." The guy couldn't believe his luck as he let her go and took the hand she offered him. Leading him out the back door of the bar to the alleyway behind, Anna smiled up at him. Five minutes later she returned to her position at the bar. Chris, the owner, glanced across at her, a look of something crossed between disapproval and admiration on his face. "Another one?" "Another one," she replied, smiling slightly and wiping the blood from her knuckles. * * * I'm tellin' ya, Wolvie, said Gambit, his red eyes narrowed in seriousness. It was likelike we connected instantly, non? I look at her, she looks at me The Cajun was animate as he spoke, perhaps much more than he had been recently, his hands waving wildly around his head. Wolverine cocked one eyebrow at him. Yeah, sure thing, bub, he said, amused. Just like you connect with every other girl you come across. Gambit shook his head earnestly. Don't mock me, mon ami, he growled. It was as ifah, Dieu...I jus' dunno. Maybe I's should go back. Find out who she is? Sure, sure, laughed Wolverine. Remy, you don't fool me one little bit. You want to get yourself another girlfriend, you go right ahead. Just don't expect me to defend you when Rogue finds out. Logan wasn't prepared for the fiery glare that Remy shot him. Somewhat quelled, Logan downed what was left of his beer. Well, where next? He looked at Remy, who gave him a grin and a defiant, disagree with me if you dare' look. The Old Town Bar. Aww, c'mon, Remy, man...no way. They are SERIOUSLY anti-mutant over there. So that girl was kinda cute. Get over it, bub. The Old Town Bar. Ya scared of a little bit of potential trouble? Gumbo...I'm warnin' ya... The Old Town Bar. I's goin' – you c'n follow iffin you's wants. Remy slid off the high stool and walked to the door. Swirling the foam around the bottom of his glass, Logan sighed and followed his friend. Why the insistence of walking into the maw of trouble? Why couldn't the damn Cajun ever find himself a quiet hobby...like...topiary or something? But no. He had to go seek out strange, exotic women in hostile environments. Man, thought Logan despondently. Whatever it is that they feed their kids down in the Big Easy sure affects them BIG time... * * * The Old Town Bar was one of the more affluent and prominent human haunts. That by itself was a good enough reason for Logan and Remy, two visibly obvious mutants, to avoid it. However, tucking Logan away in a shadowed corner was part one of the solution, and the usual excuse of damaged retinas explained Remy's sunglasses. Affluent and prominent it may have been, but there were some impressively suspiciously characters skulking around. Where better for the criminal element to hang out than the most innocuous of places? As Remy sat himself down, his eyes were drawn to the pretty barmaid he had locked gazes with before. He could hear her voice now: an English accent, and a well-spoken one at that...he'd put her...in the South of England. What was an English Rose like her doing in a weed patch like this...and other such chat-up clichés ran through his mind. What can I get you fellas? The man who stood by the table gave them a suspicious look. said Logan, readily. Remy took a few moments to respond, finding it next to impossible to pull his eyes away from the girl at the bar. The waiter laughed. Don't waste the time or effort, my friend, he said. That one is barbed. Sure enough, watching her, Remy saw her shove a couple of over-enthusiastic customers back to their own side of the bar. he murmured when the waiter pressed him for an answer. On de rocks. Please. An' the lady's name if it ain't too much trouble? The bar owner recognised the look and smiled. Smitten, huh, pal? Chris laughed and patted Remy on the back. I sure hope I don't have to scrape you off the wall like the last guy who asked me her name. He left Remy and Logan and delivered their order to the bar. He said something in an undertone to the girl whose eyes lifted briefly from her work to meet Remy's. In a different world, there would have been sparks. Hearts, flowers, maybe a tweeting bird or two. This was New York on a Friday night. There was no time for such special effects. A clamouring at the bar and their eyes lost contact, but it seemed to Anna that something stayed fixed on the strange man at the corner table. * * * The night wore on. The number of empty glasses on Logan and Remy's table grew by the hour – a task that Logan seemed fully capable of achieving by himself. Remy toyed idly with his drink, his attention seeming to be entirely on the spunky barmaid who could clearly more than take care of herself. Now dat, mon ami, is de kind of woman I could get t'know VER' well, he said, leaning across the table to whisper conspiratorially at Logan, who smirked, somewhat drunkenly. Y'get to know ALL women, very well, Gumbo, said his friend. Some guys have all the luck. How about findin' a girl for ME for a change? Find your own, he said, grinning back. Excuse me just a moment. I gotta go try talkin' t'her. Without waiting for further comment, Remy got to his feet and snaked his way easily through the throng of people lining the bar. He got himself tucked in at the end and stood there, staring at the reflection of himself in the mirror. Why worry bout appearances now, Remy? Can I help you? She speaks! Speak again bright angel...ah, it is my lady, oh, it is my love...all these pretty words flew through Remy's head. He opened his mouth to utter them. Uh...yeah, I guess. Although the smile remained fixed on his face, his brain was currently beating his voice box around the proverbial head with an incredibly large stick. prompted the barmaid again, her dark blue eyes narrowing in impatience. Look, I don't want to rush you, but as you can see... She made a vague gesture that took in the entire bar. Ah, dere's de trouble, chere, said Remy, somewhat sadly, shaking his head. All dat I gotta say t'you ain't gonna be possible in a few moments. Do ya...y'know...get any time off? Anna's mouth fell open. This was not something she was used to. She was more familiar with the more...direct...approach. Pretty words from...she had to admit to herself – a pretty stranger were highly unexpected. Unable to stop herself, she giggled. I get a twenty minute break in about ten minutes, she said. If you're still alive by then, and if I remember I'll come say hello. Alive? Chere...dere ain't no problem there, said Remy, beaming happily. He never had problems with women, yet he felt like he'd achieved something here. He grabbed hold of her hand and kissed the back gently. I see ya in ten minutes, non? She had to give him credit, he was certainly charming. And persistent. she said, carefully, not wanting to commit herself. But I guess I need to know your name first? Ah, my name. Well...dat's mystery of the evenin', chere. Iffen ya come t'see me and my friend, I'll maybe let you know. She hastily withdrew her hand. Why not just tell me? Why all the beating around the bush? You got something to hide? She was suspicious of this mercury-tongued man, whose eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark, dark sunglasses. He held his hands out wide in a gesture of mock wounded innocence. Chere! I'm hurt! You not trust me? Let's say I'm jus' a page of an open book and I'm dyin' for you t'fill me up wid your story. Against her better judgement, she blushed furiously. The kind of chat up lines she was used to from the clientele in this...establishment...generally had the phrases cute little piece of ass', come over to my place' or the rather creative hey, babe! Fancy a fuck?' in them. This man was different. And she felt very, very drawn to him. she relented. I'll be there in ten minutes. You won't regret it, ma belle petite, he said, kissing her hand again and melting away into the crowd. She watched him go and shook her head in disbelief. "Why," she wondered to herself, "did that last statement seem somewhat inaccurate?" She had a feeling she would regret it very much indeed. You smooth, fancy-talking bastard, said Logan, admiringly as Remy slid back into his seat. How do you DO that? Just lucky, mon ami, said Remy with a grin as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge. Just lucky. Leaning forward, Logan frowned a little. But isn't she a little...well...young? Remy shrugged. She seemed fairly grown up t'me. I ain't talkin' physically, Cajun and well you know it. She's just a kid and you know how vulnerable girls can be... Why, Wolvie! I di'n't know you was de world's expert on women! Remy turned to his friend, a wide smile on his face. Ah, can it, Gumbo, grumbled Logan, returning to contemplation of his beer. * * * Anna did, indeed, have a break. Chris nodded to her as she cast a pleading glance at him. She had been on her feet for almost twelve hours solid serving these miserable people their lousy drinks that would probably make their pathetic little lives even worse when they got home to beat up on their wives. She cast a glance over at the man who had come to talk to her at the bar. He seemed to be in deep conversation with his companion so she took the opportunity to slip out the back and have a cigarette. As she lit up and took a long pull, a voice by her ear said, You shouldn't smoke, chere. Is bad for your health. Her heart almost stopped. I thought we had a date. What you doin', avoidin' me? God, don't do that! You scared the life out of me! She turned to look at him. He was tall, and well built, but not overly so. Strong shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and a pair of exceptionally well-muscled legs. //Stop it, Anna//, she chided herself. //You don't even know his name yet!// As if in response to her unspoken words, the man grinned broadly. Let me introduce myself. Remy LeBeau. At your service. The man performed a sweeping bow that made Anna giggle a little. You're a bit fancy for these parts aren't you? I'm from Nawlins. Wh en he saw the little furrow in her brow he grinned. Dat's New Orleans t'you, chere. Oh, I get it. That explains the accent and the French. I'm Anna. She held out a hand. Anna O'Shea. He once again kissed her hand and examined it closely. O'Shea. Dat Irish? I think you's got a decidedly English accent dere. foster father was Irish. Her reply was curt, short, indicating that this was the end of the subject. She wasn't about to spill her guts to a stranger. Young and naïve she might be – but she wasn't stupid. I grew up in Oxford, England. Came over to America about seven years ago. Been here ever since. That's my lifein a nutshell. //Or at least as much as you're getting right now//. Distrustful of men – with reason – Anna was defensive. Remy also wasn't stupid. Taking out a cigarette of his own he held it between his lips whilst he looked around. What your plans for de future, chere? You ain't gon' stay here, you're way too smart f'that. Gambit knows dese things. Anna sounded amused. What's thata nickname? Again, that enigmatic smile. Sorta, chere. All in good time. Right now, I wanna hear bout you. Dat's FAR more interestin'. He leaned back against the wall and lit his own cigarette. Thought you said it was bad for your health? She pointed at his cigarette, a faint smile on her face. Touché, chere. He grinned at her. They smoked in a companionable silence for a few minutes. Anna glared at her watch. Somehow her twenty minute break was already half over. She sighed heavily and very audibly. S'up, chere? Remy glanced at her. I don't want to go back in there, she admitted. I hate working this place. The money is bad, the lodgings areand the men are scum. Ohpresent company excluded, of course. She blushed. Is it really all dat bad? No positive side to it at all? Not that I've noticed yet, no. She viciously stubbed out her cigarette. I want to make something of my life, and all that seems to happen round here is that people try to get me into bed. Well, dat's understandable, said Remy, grinding his own smoke out on the ground. You's a very pretty girl, non? Well, excuse me, she said, slightly annoyed – yet quietly flattered - by his response. There is actually more to me than just body, you know. I do have a brain in here. She tapped her head and swung her face away from him, angry with herself that she'd let him annoy her. As she made the movement, her hair swung away from her ears and Remy caught a brief glimpse of the strange growths on her neck. Knowing better than to say anything, he swung into his most charming mode. Pardonez moi, mademoiselle, he said. I di'n't mean t'upset you. I was jus' sayin' what I b'lieved t'be the truth. Oh, forget about it, she said, turning back to face him. Doesn't matter. LookI have to get back to work. Thanks for coming out here to keep me company, Remy. De pleasure was all mine, chere, said the Cajun, lifting his sunglasses for the first time since they had come out. Anna drew in a shocked breath at the first sight of his eyes, but her surprise, found herself even more drawn to him. He was a mutant, of that there was absolutely no doubt. She had almostbeen involved with a mutant beforehad her foster parents not intervened. She had so many questions for him now. And he knew it. He grinned at her and replaced the sunglasses. Gambit sorry if he startled you, petite. Promise me you won't say a word back in dere. Dese people don't likemy kind ver' much, non? I won't say a word, she replied, honestly. She turned to go back inside. you didn't startle me. Actually, I think they'rekind of nice. "An' will I see you again?" Not too much hope, a casual, throw-away line that had never failed him in the past. Anna stopped for a moment, then, without turning back to him, said, "Maybe. Call back tomorrow. It's my night off." She shot a shy glance back at him. "No promises, mind you." With that, she disappeared back into the throng. Remy leaned back against the wall and sighed in satisfaction. Ah, the thrill of the chase. * * * Logan was fairly drunk by the time he went back into the bar. Remy sat down and looked across the table at him. "I think we'd better be gettin' you outta here, my friend," he said, patting Logan's hand. "Wha'?? Why? The evening's just warming up." "The evenin's over, Logan. We been out long enough. The Eyeball will blow a gasket if we don't return t'the institute." "Ah, I'm not scared of Mister-Oh-So-Strict Scott Summers," scoffed Logan as Remy carefully prised him out of his seat. "There's nothin' he can say to me that'll make me in the slightest bit worried…" He continued ranting as Remy helped him slowly to the door. A ruckus from behind him caused him to cast a glance over his shoulder at Anna behind the bar. He almost dropped Logan in fury. A burly man had climbed over the bar and was trying his hardest to get a kiss from her, and she, fighting back, had already sustained a cut to her cheek and was currently looking very frightened indeed. Remy could not hear what was being said, but he did hear what he presumed were the rampant primate's friends cheering and egging him on. "Meet me outside, Logan," said Remy, shoving him towards the door. "I gotta go be a knight in shinin' armour." "Oh, man, Gumbo," whined Logan, staggering to the door. "Why do you have to get into these situations?" "Part of my contract, mon ami. Di'n't the Professor ever tell ya?" He let go of Logan's arm and walked to the bar. "Dere a problem here, chere?" "Remy…" She looked up at him, almost in thankfulness. There was a look, a plea for help in her eyes and Remy was about to open his mouth when he swore he could hear her thoughts. //Don't let this happen again…help me, Remy…// Now was not the time to wonder how that was possible. "Put her down, mon ami," he said, pleasantly to the gorilla who was pawing her. "Dat's my girl you's playin' wid dere." "Aww, c'mon, baby, just one little kiss, that's all I want…" The man stopped speaking as Remy's finger knocked on his shoulder. "I said, put her down b'fore I get mad." The big guy turned round. Remy winced at the overwhelming scent that emanated from him: dirt, body odour, alcohol. He was very, very male. And primitive male. The very worst. "What are you going to do about it?" he sneered, taking in Remy's long, untidy hair and aggressive stance. "I said," Remy repeated, stepping forward and taking his glasses off. "Put her down." "Mutant scum," hissed the big guy, spitting at Remy. "Might've guessed." There were some angry mutterings from some of the other men around the bar. Anna looked at Remy, frightened for his safety. "You should leave now," she said. "In a minute, ma cherie. I want t'be sure that you're gon' be OK." "I'll be fine, Remy. Please…get out of here." "You heard the lady," said the big guy. "Get out of here." He stared as Remy took an object out of his pocket. A card. The Ace of Spades. "What's that meant to do, frighten me? Gonna give me a paper cut?" "No, mon ami," Remy said, smiling pleasantly. "Dis is just a little somet'in' for you to remember me by." The card began to glow ever so slightly in his pinch. Leaning across the bar and grabbing hold of Anna by the waist, he lifted her bodily, slinging her unceremoniously over his shoulder and ran for the door. "Au revoir, mes amis," he said, tossing the card across his other shoulder and leaving the bar. "Remy, put me down!" Anna was indignant and was about to say some more when the small explosion inside caused her to draw in her breath sharply. "What was that??!" "Just my callin' card, chere," he said, setting her down lightly. "Now den. Shall we go back t'my place, or yours?" His question was answered by the flat of Anna's hand as it connected solidly with his cheek. "You arrogant, presumptuous, overbearing…" "Obnoxious?" prompted Logan from his vantage point nearby. "Insolent? Impudent?" He lapsed back into drunken giggles. "Hey, hey, what is dis?" Remy caught hold of Anna's hand. "Ignore my friend, chere, he's de walkin' Thesaurus all of a sudden. Look, I'm sorry. I just got de impression you was wantin' some help t'get outta there. I'm givin' ya a chance iffin ya wants t'take it." He let go of her hand and shrugged. "Entirely up t'you." Anna's wind had been taken squarely out of her sails and she could do little more than stare at this strange man who was offering her the much-sought-after ticket out of the gutter. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Look…I can't just up and leave…like that." "Sure y'can." Remy grinned infectiously and, despite her better judgement, she smiled. //He's certainly charming//, she thought. //But is he honest?// "Course I'm honest," he said, aloud. "I'm as honest as the…day….is…." He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't say anything then, did you?" He removed his glasses and looked closely at her. //Are you hidin' somet'in' from me, chere?// Fear. Cold, icy terror gripped at her heart as she stared into his burning eyes. She had felt his telepathic brush against her mind but refused to accept it was possible. "I…I have to go now…thanks for your - help in there…but I really gotta go…" She turned away from the two men and began to walk towards the door of the bar. "Chere…" Remy made to move after her, but stopped dead in his tracks as the big man from whom he had saved Anna along with four other men exited. They looked, probably understandably so, pretty mad. "I think you got some explaining to do, mutant," said the leader, his unkempt hair blowing in the night wind. "What are you doing coming into our quiet little bar and destroying our pleasant night?" One of his goons grabbed hold of Anna. "Wrench wants some fun with you, little lady," he said, his thick hands clamping over her mouth and stopping her from making a sound. "You upset him by brushing him off like that. We're here to make sure he gets what he's after." "S'right, baby," said the leader, the man whose name was apparently Wrench. "You and I are going to take a little walk together." He moved over to her and pushed his companion's hand out of the way before pressing his lips to hers in a brutal kiss. //Don't worry, chere, it's gon' be OK//, Remy tried to communicate to her, but his efforts met up with a blank wall. In her fear, Anna had closed her mind to the horror that she knew was going to happen to her. "You didn't reckon on gettin' past me, now, did you?" he said, twirling another card lazily between his fingers. "And you, my mutated freak did not reckon on this, did you?" said a soft voice from behind Remy. Startled, the Cajun turned, to see another of Wrench's henchman stood right behind him, hefting a metal pipe in his hand. Remy didn't have long to consider the implications of this as the man swung the pipe and it sailed in a graceful arc on an impact trajectory towards the side of his head. The moment slowed and seemed to take forever. Remy was about to kiss goodbye to his skull… SHNIK! SHNIK! The sound of adamantium claws stopping the travel of the bar allowed Remy the single instant he needed to duck out of the way. He glanced instantly to Anna and was horrified to see her being dragged off down the alleyway by Wrench, struggling desperately to get away from him. He swore in Creole and flipped his charged card towards the three other goons who were standing there looking useless. It impacted with a loud explosion and Remy began to run after the terrified girl. "Ya got a problem, pal?" sneered Logan, pressing up and outwards with his claws, sending the metal bar to the ground with a loud clatter. Remy's would-be assailant stared in terror at the short man with very, very big claws, thought about fighting, then came to his senses, screamed like a girl and ran off down the street. "You better hurry up your daring rescue, Gumbo," yelled Logan after the thief. "If the Eyeball finds out we're fighting, we'll probably get lines." Wrench had dragged Anna to the alleyway behind the back of the bar and had pressed her up against the wall. His hand remained clamped over her mouth and nose and she was painfully aware that she was having difficulties breathing. With his other hand, he pulled at her top, running his hand over her breasts. "You want me, girly, you know you do," he said, his breath hot on her neck as he bit and clawed at her breasts. She squirmed and struggled, desperate for breath. "Let her go, mon ami," said Remy, appearing around the corner. "Let her go now." Anna's frightened eyes turned to meet Remy's and the tears were pouring down her face. Never before had Remy felt such utter cold out and out hatred for a single human as he did at that moment. He stooped to the ground, picking up a small rock and tossing it casually in his hand as he spoke. "Gambit givin' you your last warnin'. Let her go." "You throw that thing at me and she dies," said Wrench, breaking off from his assault and smirking at Remy. His smirk soon turned to a look of surprise as Anna's body began to convulse under his tight grip. "Hey, what…you going into a fit or something?" he said, surprised. "No you don't, I like my women alert…." The distraction was all Remy needed. He hurled the rock with deadly accuracy. It exploded, sending Wrench flying backwards into the bins where he remained, motionless. "Anna!" Remy sprinted immediately to her side and took her in his arms. She lay on the ground, twitching and struggling. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was desperately opening and closing. "Chere, what is it?" He brushed her hair back from her face and put his fingers on her pulse. Then he saw the ridges behind her ears opening and closing, flapping…like… "Gills!" She was suffocating. He had to get her to water. "Damn!" He racked his mind desperately. They were not close enough to the river for him to take her there quickly enough… "Ah, chere, what am I gon' do?" Remy was frantic, until he realised that her breathing was returning to normal. He frowned. Then he worked out that Wrench's effectiveness at cutting off her air supply had encouraged her gills to work. They had thought she was suffocating and assumed naturally that she was in water. Now that her airways were clear…she could breathe again. But was this the way it would be? Would she have control over her breathing? Or would her mutant ability, like so many others, manifest itself randomly at first? Either way…Remy knew there was no time to waste. If she suddenly made the complete transition to gills whilst she was in air…he didn't waste time thinking about it. Kneeling down beside her, he helped the frightened girl into a sitting position. "Remy…" she said, brokenly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her close to him. "It's gon' be OK, Anna. It's gon' be OK." She went limp in his arms and he realised she had passed out from a combination of fear and what had just happened to her breathing. Picking her up bodily, Remy walked out of the alleyway with her. "We gotta get her back to the academy, Logan…she's a mutant and she needs our help." End of Part One |
