This plot bunny came out of nowhere and attacked me. I thought it was too funny not to write. Hopefully you find it as funny as I did. The book Rogue is reading is something I made up. I don't even know if they write books like that. I just needed something that fit Rogue's usual taste with my plot twist. Let me know what you think.
Layla
Takes place the same night the X-Men pulled Rogue, Gambit, and Jean-Luc out of Blood Moon Bayou in Cajun Spice. The X-Men have just arrived home and finished grilling her on what happened.
She was grubby, slightly slimy, and tired.
She blamed Gambit entirely for the grubbiness and swamp slime. The tired she split between her adventures with the Cajun and the follow on interrogation at the hands of Cyclops and Wolverine. Either way she was tired and cranky. The only things she wanted were a hot shower and a prolonged and uninterrupted date with her pillow.
She moved silently about the mansion until she made it to the bathroom with all her shower things and clean night clothes. Letting the hot water steam and soak away the dirt, Rogue felt her muscles relax. Clean and refreshed, and now really feeling the tired, she brushed her teeth, combed out her hair and went quietly back to her room.
Congratulating herself on avoiding the ever inquisitive Kitty and mothering Jean she dumped her dirty clothes into the hamper and turned on her bedside lamp. As she moved to turn on the overhead light, her eyes caught on the playing card sitting on the floor beside her hamper. It must have fallen out when she tossed her jeans in.
Determinedly not thinking about Gambit and where he was, she turned off the room light and set the card on the table beside her book. She'd deal with it later. When she wasn't so tired. That was a line of thinking that would require perspective and rational thought. She didn't think she was up to either of those things right then.
Settling herself comfortably in bed she reached for the book on the table. She was halfway through and couldn't wait to finish it. Reading was one of her truly favorite past times. She read classics, mysteries, historical novels, paranormal romance, anything with a plot and characters that drew her in and let her see another world. With a book her hands she left behind her own life and savored the highs and lows of the characters she read about. The words before her fell away until she saw only the story playing out her mind like a movie. It made a nice change from her own life.
Adjusting her pillow behind her she opened the book and started to read. This particular novel combined historical spy fiction with paranormal romance. The French spy working for the British crown to ensure that Napoleon could never come out of exile was the son of a gypsy woman and a former French nobleman. His gypsy blood gave him visions of the future and the ability to change his body into that of a wolf. The latter was useful since Napoleon was conspiring with a group of werewolves to gain his return as Emperor of France. Highly probably? No. Entertaining? Yes.
At the moment the hero was just returning to the chateau where the ruler of the werewolves lived with his wife and very beautiful daughter. The daughter was naturally the love interest of the hero, which left both hero and heroine torn between each other and their duty to country and family.
Rogue snickered at the flirty banter between the spy and the daughter. They weren't yet lovers but Rogue was fairly certain that this encounter would change that. They'd been dancing around their attraction for nearly half the book with only a quickly stolen kiss to satisfy them.
Happily forsaking her exhausted and mixed up emotions for the simple and entertaining ones in the book Rogue read on, enjoying every moment of the attraction and flirtation of the two characters.
Right up to the point where she gasped and dropped the book in shock, a furious blush burning her cheeks and creeping down her neck.
Embarrassed by her own reaction and staunchly refusing to give in to the thoughts fluttering around her brain Rogue grabbed the book off the floor and told herself to stop being ridiculous. Shaking her head to clear it, she forced herself back to story, starting a few paragraphs back to ease herself into the scene once more.
Except now her mental image of the hero had red on black eyes, his elegant French accent had been replaced with a Cajun lilt, and she could picture that sly, wicked smile only too well.
She growled in annoyance and tried once more to focus on the book.
Nope. The beautiful daughter was now being thoroughly and willingly seduced by a French gypsy spy who was very quickly taking on more and more traits of one very annoying Cajun thief.
Unable to get the flame out of her cheeks, Rogue grabbed the playing card off her night table, very un-gently stuck it between the pages, and slammed the book closed on her nightstand in utterly embarrassed fury.
It wasn't fair. She'd been enjoying that book! But there was no way she could finish it now. Not with that image in her brain.
There was no choice. She'd have to choose a new book. And never, ever speak of this moment with anyone. Ever.
With a vicious glare at the book she opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out her dog eared copy of Much Ado About Nothing. No Frenchmen in Shakespeare's Italy. Just highly entertaining banter between Benedick and Beatrice and lots of misunderstandings.
Settling herself into the story Rogue let the familiar words and story line calm her. She hated not finishing a book. It was usually a matter of pride with her. But not this time. This one she would let go.
All because in the midst of their passion the hero had called his heroine cherie.
Hopefully you laughed. :-)
I've got a longer post-series Romy that I'm playing with. Maybe I'll get around to posting it. Have a good night, and let me know what you think.
