Okay not much to say, really just one thing. GiveGodtheglory, I know where you're coming from with the 'mug, 'profile' thing, but when he says profile he doesn't mean as in their looks, he literally means their personal profiles with the information the school has about them on it, this including the fact that they're mutants on it. Okay? Hope so. Anyway, I'll leave y'all now to read, enjoy.
~Telaka~
Storm was never one who co-operated well with being grounded. Despite all the guilt and shame she felt for almost being expelled from school it didn't stop the fit of angry protestant rants or the spell of bad weather that obediently followed her mood.
For the time being she paced back and forth across her room, her cold arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she watched and waited restlessly for the clock to turn ten, even though it was only nine. She dutifully ignored the frustrated frowns of her studying roommate, Kitty, and even the small coughs she uttered as way of subtly hinting for her to stop making a general nuisance of herself.
It wasn't until half nine before she finally did sit at peace, grabbing a CD and placed it in the played on her bedside at near to full volume. Closing her blue eyes, now with a film of wispy white hanging over them, she began to will away the time with the music, relaxing a little and easing her tense grip on the weather outside.
Then the music was switched off.
"Hey!" She sat bolt upright and made unflinching, hateful eye contact with Kitty who stood above her CD player, arms crossed and eyes narrow. "What you do that for?"
One looked as spiteful as the other as they duelled with their looks.
"I've got a biology test tomorrow, I'm trying to study for it, okay?"
Storm frowned, the air around her almost seeming to sparkle and crack with the tension she generated. But she didn't retaliate, much as she would have loved to. Instead she grabbed her black leather duster coat from off the floor and none too quietly exited the room.
"Hey, you're grounded!"
With a wave of her hand she called upon a strong icy breeze and slammed shut the door behind her, leaving at that with Kitty.
It was rounding up to quarter to ten; the school's curfew had finally kicked in and, even though she had wanted to wait till ten, now was her chance to break the confinements of her room and grab a little freedom.
She strode down the deserted hallway, her long graceful steps making near to no noise that would betray her presence and carrying her quickly. Her cold hands dug deep in the soft lined pockets of her jacket that swept behind her like a cape. So many times Logan had teased her about it but she just threw comments back about his rather fetching jeans collection.
The mumbled chatter and laughter of the students could be heard faintly from behind the rows of closed doors, they wouldn't hear her even if she were to tread nosily.
But the teachers would so she kept herself as near to silent as was possible.
With a sudden stop she came to stand in front of Logan's bedroom door, one of the rare few dormitories that housed only one student. She wrapped her hand around the handle tightly, then, hesitated, because only a little further up the darkened hallway was the small staircase that led up to the attic.
For years she had been begging the Professor for that room, the one place in the world she loved more than anywhere else, except Africa. She had pleaded and preyed for it, bargained and offered so much but every time she asked she was refused.
His favourite answer to back the denial was, "I can't just give you the attic as a bedroom and not to say Jubilee or Kitty if they asked. It wouldn't be fair, would it?"
Her whole life had revolved around unfair; why she could not just be given a little fairness for once she didn't know. But still, it didn't stop her from actually going up there in the first place just to spend some quiet, tranquil time there. That he could not deny her.
Her poised hand that remained lingering on the handle of her friend's door slowly unwrapped itself from its grip and came to rest back at her side. Her heals pivoted and she carried on her silent way towards the attic now to seek a little refuge there instead.
The old wooden steps moaned quietly under her weight and the cold downdraught of wind that seeped through the door at the top whistled past ears but the noises brought none to investigate. She paused in front of the grand oak door, sneaking a look over her shoulder just to make sure, but she truly was alone on the first floor of the mansion.
With her hand gripped firmly around the cool brass handle she turned her wrist once and watched the door swing smoothly open on its hinges.
The sight that greeted her as always was breathtaking.
Moonlight burst into the room though the white framed glass roof spreading its crystal wash over every wall and corner of the vast and long room. In the light breeze that skipped around the space plants and flowers of every species, shape colour and size imaginable swayed back and forth slowly, dancing the dance of the night in the enigmatic moon cast light. The stars shone through just as bright and through the glass cast a roof of white dotted navy blue.
Slowly she shut the door behind her and stepped into the room, smiling contently to herself as she did and breathing deeply into her chest.
Here she could be at peace, her restless soul settled amongst the original beauty that nature first cast for herself to live in. No lectures, no teachers, no authority, no rules or restrictions. Nature knew none of these. The plants would listen and there would be none who answered back, no right or wrong for what she was saying with morality tales thrown in at every chance seized.
Here was home and Charles would no let her have it.
Here was home and tonight she was not alone.
It took her a few minutes to notice the open skylight that allowed a flood of bitter night air to rush in and ruffle the loose stands of hair that had escaped her messy ponytail. She frowned when she caught sight of it and eyed it suspiciously. To the best of her knowledge almost no one came up here, especially at night. It was Dr Grey's job to tend to the plants but she did that in the evenings, plus there were no plants on the roof.
She tilted her head more in curiosity now and began to step forward walking carefully between the sea of pots and beds. If there was one thing those God-awful Danger Room runs had taught her, it was how to tread skilfully at night.
The cold night air continued to sweep in through the opening, skidding past her face and making her eyes water at the edges. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her slim body. How could anyone handle such a bitter cold at such an hour outside?
The answer came in the form of the nine of diamonds as it floated down through the wide-open skylight and landed at her feet. She stared at it with confused blinking eyes for a second then bent down and picked it up. Scrawled in one corner was a tiny, blotchy red 'R' and in the opposite corner in back was a 'G'.
"Bonjour."
Ororo started, dropping the card and catching her breath in her throat, only just managing not to swear a flow or curses. It was Remy.
His shadow cast face peered in through the opening, his body skilfully balanced on the sloping glass roof. His eyes were barely visible, only a tiny red glint in amongst a pit of black shadows. But Storm could see they were cast down and shifted about uncomfortably in her presence. Even the way he had said 'bonjour' hinted great unease and shyness in the boy. Storm felt no better.
"I—I'm sorry if I'm intruding. I didn't know…I mean if I knew you were up here…no I mean… Here's you're card back."
With a sheepish grin she picked the nine of diamonds back up and past it to Remy's outstretched gloved hand.
"T'anks."
"S'okay." She paused for a second then tilted her head, a curious gleam running across her eyes. "What do the letters stand for?"
He looked a little surprised, as if wondering why she still wanted to talk to him. His fawn, suede clad fingers passed over the surface of the card before he stuffed in back into his black duster coat, one much like Storm's own.
"Em, well de 'R' stands fo' Remy."
"And the 'G'?"
He hesitated in an answer then sighed. "You wanna come up?"
It was her turn to look visibly surprised. "Up there, on the roof?"
He nodded.
"What if I fall?"
"You won', ah won' let you. 'Less you don' wanna…"
"No, no I do want to, looks like…fun."
Ororo could have sworn he smiled but it was too brief to catch for definite.
He dropped a hand for her to grab onto but she shook her head and smiled herself. "It's okay, I can fly."
Under the shadows he lifted an eyebrow, something she could see.
It took some degree of control and concentration to kick up a wind strong enough to carry her full weight, but at the same time one that was tame enough so she wouldn't send Remy flying past the Professor's office window at this fine hour. She did it though, just.
Remy grabbed her as she dropped the wind only a second too soon and dragged her onto the roof before she could go crashing back down into the attic. He watched her worriedly as she knelt over herself, catching her breath that was laboured and heavy.
"Y'okay chere?"
He didn't get an answer for a second then, to his relived surprise, she began to laugh. He sat back again and she tossed her thick white ponytail away from her face.
"I'm fine, just need a little more practice is all."
He nodded then got up and began to walk along the glass part of the roof, over to the tiles. She watched him for a second as he balanced himself with the greatest of ease and no visible fear.
When she didn't follow he turned and beckoned her to come with him. She managed to brave one look down at the silhouetted ground below and shook her head with a wiry grin.
"You are kidding? No way! Look at the height we're at!"
He simply shrugged. "So? You can fly, non?"
"Yeah, but not very well."
"Bet you could if you fell."
Both paused, locked in unflinching eye contact just as he said it, then smiled and shook their heads.
He beckoned again. "C'mon, ah won' let you fall, on a t'ief's promise."
"A thief?"
"Best promise der is chere."
She teetered for a second on the decision then imagined with a cringe what Logan would say to her cowardliness. "Okay, on a thief's promise it is then."
With not a second more hesitation she forced her tense body up and slowly and painfully forward. He waited for her patiently on the line where glass met slate then walked with her as she came to his side.
For any unfortunate passer-by's it would have been the most bizarre of sights. If any teachers happened to be passing by, well the orphanage looked like a most plausible end to their stay here at Xavier's mansion, or at least for Ororo it did.
"So…what does the 'G' stand for?"
They stopped in their travels along the grimy grey tiles and Remy sat on the jut above the triple garage. Ororo followed suit to his actions.
"Huh?"
"The 'G', in the card you dropped. You said the 'R' stood for Remy, so what does the 'G' mean?"
He hesitated for a second, his face was now clearer in the moonlight and she could see the uncertainty in his devil red eyes.
"It—it stands fo' Gambit."
She raised her snowy white brows a little. "Gambit?"
Now he looked very slightly abashed, reddened lightly across the cheeks. "Yeah, it what dey called me back in New Orleans, Gambit. Suited me more'n Remy anyway."
"They?"
Remy didn't answer this one.
"So what be bringin' you out 'ere? Thought you were grounded."
Storm scoffed. "Did you think that was gonna stop me? Seems you obviously don't know me too well Gambit."
He paused for a second then lowered his voice to a shy mumble. "Ah don'."
She fell silent and her brilliant blue eyes dropped away from his face down to her knees that rested at her chest.
"Ah mean, you an' Logan, you pretty close, ah'm jus' de strange loner on de roof of de mansion. But ah don' mind or anythin', much…"
Storm bit her lower lip and tried to conceal the blush of red that crept across her own dark cheeks now.
"Why don't you talk to anyone Remy? You know the world's not gonna bite, well not all of it." She thought for a second. "Em, who's your roommate?"
"Bobby."
"So why don't you get talking with Bobby, he seems like a nice guy?"
"Bobby's terrified o' me, won' say a single thing even if ah tried to talk to 'im."
Storm bit harder. Then it occurred to her—
"You're talking to me right now and you seem fine with it."
To this Remy shrugged. "Jus' suppose you aint easy scared then."
With a small, creeping smile she began to wonder why she hadn't talked to Remy before, or at least taken the time to try. Logan had never particularly liked him, but when did she ever listen to him?
Slowly black misty clouds began to pass over the enigmatic glow of the hauntingly beautiful moonlight, gradually blocking out the shimmer of silver and casting the two in silkier black shadows. And during all this they never noticed because for the first time in their lives together at the mansion they talked, and laughed, shared stories and grew to enjoy the company they basked in together.
As the night drew in Remy began to sound and look gradually more relaxed, like the seventeen year old he was and not some forty-year-old cynic of everything around him and Ororo grew more and more fond of him for it. Tension and unease lifted, any awkwardness that had lingered passed and as the sun began to ascend, taking the moon's place in the sky both found themselves disappointed that they had to drag their stiffened bodies back into the stuffy mansion.
As they stood at the base of the rickety old staircase that brought them back down from the attic they found their parting strangely difficult, reluctant almost, considering they lived under the same roof and beyond that only a few bedrooms down from each other.
"Well, guess I'll be seeing you around?"
"Yeah, guess."
"Bye then."
Finally they split, Remy carefully opening the door to his room, making no more noise than a gentle click as he turned the handle and Ororo sneaking back down the corridor to her own warm bedroom.
All the time they were being watched.
At the very bottom of the corridor, further down than either teen bothered to check for life, a pair of kindly old blue eyes watched them closely, the face they nestled in creasing into an overwhelming amount of unspoken joy and pride. It seemed, finally, Remy had made a friend.
Detention with Logan and Ororo was never a voluntary task. Of the four teachers in the mansion not one would honourably put up a hand and offer to spare the other three the challenging, and more often than not temper rising, chore. So Charles was forced to draw up a timetable and for the first of a fourteen-day punishment program, weekends included, Henry became their mentor and ruler. Henry was usually the one teacher that neither Ororo nor Logan dared to mess around with.
Six o'clock in the morning rolled around and through it the mansion lay in a state of blissful sleep. Students buried deep into their warm, cosy beds, hugging their soft pillows tight and wallowing in comforting darkness, their eyes closed over to welcome fanciful dreams.
All but two.
An hour before they were usually due to rise both the condemned mutants could be found out of bed and staring crusty eyed at Henry who stood tall above them, arms crossed, inside the mansion's hanger.
The infamous Blackbird rested behind him, sleeping in parallel with the students. Yesterday it had been out in Canada, both Scott and Jean taking it with them on a hushed up mission that not one of the students knew the full and true story about.
In Canada it had been raining. The Blackbird had landed in a swelling bog of mud and general filth. And so Logan and Ororo's job for the day had been created.
"Okay you two. I think the buckets and Blackbird speak for themselves; to work."
It was a shame the duo, as well as most of the student body, felt so much spite towards McCoy, he really was a nice guy.
On that word he left, only to return for half hourly checks.
Rolling up his sleeve and snatching an old greasy rag Logan grudgingly plunged into a bucket of soapy, lukewarm water with it and began to work on the belly of the ship. Ororo watched him for a second with distaste to the task he operated them grabbed a bucket and cloth for herself and climbed up the ladder that gave her access to clean the roof of the plane.
For a good while they worked silently, the sloshing of water and squeak of cloth and metal rubbing together being the only noises that sliced through the resentful mood that hug in the hanger. Then Logan coughed and cleared his throat as he craned his neck back to catch sight of Ororo who took to actually standing on the roof and cleaning.
"So, where were ya last night 'Ro? Thought you'd be comin' round my way."
She didn't answer immediately, instead pretending to be engrossed in her work. It was only when he coughed again that she finally looked up, loose strands of white hair falling over her misty blue eyes.
"What?"
"Ah said, where were ya last night?"
She looked at him blankly for a few seconds and blinked. "In my room, studying."
He almost laughed as he dropped the cloth and leant his left arm on the body of the ship. "Tell me another. Ah could smell ye goin' by, you were right outside my bedroom door ready to come in an' then ye left. Plus, you wouldn't be studying. Did Scooter catch you?"
She went back to work, mumbling an answer that he only just caught with his sensitive ears.
"Went up to the attic."
He raised a bushy brown eyebrow and smiled a teasing smile. "Again? Thought you were banned from goin' up there?"
She straightened her arched back and frowned. "No. I'm just not allowed it as my own bedroom. And even if I was banned, see if that would stop me."
Instantly his tone sharpened as he remembered something, another scent he had caught in the corridor outside his door that night. "The Cajun was up there, wasn't he?"
Storm's frown grew darker, angrier. "What's your problem with that?"
"The guy's a jerk 'Ro! Only cares about himself and his stupid cards, ignores everyone point blank an' says nothin'. You wouldn't seriously want to spend a night with him, sittin' in silence and swallowin' down yer throat awkwardly. Why didn't ye just come round to ma room?"
With more vigour in her scrubbing Ororo went back to work. "He's not all that bad really. He's just a bit…shy. Anyway, I don't have to come round to your room every night I feel like a wonder, do I? You know you can be such a jerk yourself sometimes!"
She regretted it the second she shouted it but didn't stop in her work to apologise.
He stared for a second then silently went back to work again with her.
Half an hour passed and Henry came back dutiful for a check, half expecting the entire hanger to be soaked through and through, his two prisoners standing sheepishly in the middle of the flood. But to his quiet and pleasant surprise it wasn't. Instead they worked in silence, already half way through their chore.
"And after that there's a good number of cars in the garage needing a once over, inside and out."
Their only acknowledgment to his order was a small nod and quiet mutter.
With a shrug he left.
A few hours later
"You know what I said earlier—"
"I'm sorry."
"But I can be—"
"I didn't mean that."
"'Ro, would you just let me speak! I'm not your big brother; it's not up to me who you talk to and who you don't, who you want to be friends with. If I do that then I become Chuck. I just don't, you know…"
Ororo dropped her sponge, abandoning the white striped red sports car she was carefully cleaning (carefully because it was Scott's prised position and he would hold no hesitation in harming her if she so much as dared to scratch it), and walking over to Logan who scrubbed the mansion's black people carrier. With a small smile she touched on his filthy cheek with her soapy hands and shook her head.
"You really are a jerk sometimes, but I still love you for it 'cause you make such a fool of yourself trying to apologise. Me, I usually just say sorry. So, sorry."
He smiled back, and then grinned almost, a gesture in the corner of his mouth most wouldn't notice. Ororo did.
"Oh, oh don't you dare, don't you—Logan!"
She screamed and jumped as he dove for the nearest bucket of ice-cold water and with one swift throw poured the contents over her head. Her cried were ear piercing, but worth it.
"You are a jerk! And a stupid one at that, you forget why they call me Storm!"
The smirk was gone. "Oh crap."
"Oh crap it is."
A crack of thunder hailed the skies and from the tips of Storm's fingers a pour of ice-cold rain, more chilling that what Logan had throw, drowned him, drenching his through to the bare bone.
And hence why not one of the four teachers would ever honourably volunteer to take on the task of detention with Ororo and Logan into their hands.
The cold that reined through the battered old house that sat outside a forest that sat out of the way of any busy street or road was a very different one from what Ororo and Logan inflicted on each other in their rough play. Instead a sense of misery rang clear with the breezes that ached through the walls and windows, desperation and haunting realities that the three occupants were forced to live in every day lingering forever under the roof of the home. They kept that cold hidden from the general outside world, but in here, in the household of the Darkholme's, there was nowhere to hide from it.
The sun outside was glorious, beautiful, warming to the touch, but as soon as the front door was shut over Rogue blocked all of that out.
Moodily she threw her bag to the ground, allowing it to skid into a filthy corner to rest, and kept on walking forward. There were only three doors she had to choose from on the ground floor, Rogue chose to enter the one on the left.
A small pale glare from a long outdated computer was the only thing on offer to pass light through the darkness in the small cramped room she walked into now.
"Hi sweetheart. How was school?"
Rogue allowed a small smile to play across her black lined lips. "Don't call me that, please. School sucked, so what's new with you?"
The young teen wrapped her arms around her mother's neck but was carefully not to come near her with her bare skinned face. Raven touched on her lightly with one navy blue hand then brought it back down on the rustic keys of the old computer's board.
"How about I show you what's new? I promise you, you'll like this."
On command she brought up the faces of about ten teenagers, all around Rogue's age, for her to see. She watched them appear with an excited gleam in her dulled green eyes.
"They're all—"
"Xavier's students. Help me pick two to capture for the job."
Rogue's eyes truly lit up now as she caught sight of one face in particular.
"Her, that one. She's a real bitch in school."
Raven considered the pretty dark face lined with silky white hair and in possession of shocking blue eyes for a second. Then she turned to her daughter with a proud smile and nodded.
"Her it is then. I need a male now, just to keep things even."
Rogue paused; her eyes scanning the screen then locked them onto the second face that caught her attention.
"Him."
She pointed at a pair of devil red eyes and again her mother nodded. "And him it is."
Rogue watched her mother's fingers pass over the keys with amazing speed, thoroughly impressed. If it weren't for the fact that 'Mutant DNA detected' was literally written all over her personal profile she may have been able to hold down a decent job with computers. As it was though she was forced to work with the likes of Him, the man they hated more than any other in the world. Inwardly she scowled.
"Go see your brother Rogue."
She snapped out of her trail of thought and nodded. "How is he?"
"Same as always."
A twang of pain and regret was injected into the last statement but Rogue only nodded once again.
She left her mum with her work alone again and stepped back into the darkness of the hallway. On passing the stairs she grabbed her bag and tiresomely trudged up the stairs with it.
She could hear his moans and yelps even before she reached the top of the grimier still landing. They made her sigh in pity. Long before they used to make her cry but after years of the same behaviour, cries and please that no one could ever make any sense of, she had grown a hardened shell to it. The sight was however no less painful at times.
"Hey big bro', you sista's home, come give her a big hug, eh?"
As she swung the door open and a musky breeze passed over her pale face, sweeping back her ice white streaks the moans and mutters that had seeped through the walls halted and with them a pacing shadow stopped in its tracks.
A hunched back slowly straightened and a black head rose, turning to face the girl in his doorway. In the lapping shadows a pair of piercing yellow eyes locked onto Rogue's apprehensive green ones and for a second neither person moved, only stared.
Then with a bound and a leap the shadow flew across the room and seized Rogue in a loving bear hug.
"Rogue! Rogue, c-come see, see what I-I did today, come see!"
She let go a quick sigh of relief and with a wide smile allowed him to take her by the gloved hand across the small, murky room.
"Hey slow down ya big dafty! Okay, okay, what is it?"
In the back corner of his bedroom trapped under an upside-down jam jar scuttled a franticly circling insect.
"Aw, you caught a…em, cockroach."
His eyes lit up with the excitement of a six-year-old at the fair with a mouth full of cotton candy. "Ja! His-his name is Roachy! Do you like, do you like him Rogue? He's my new fr-friend."
She teased him with a mock frown. "An' what about me? Yo' one an' only lil' sista who loves ya more than anyone else in the whole wide—"
"Universe! Ja, you my special friend but."
She ruffled his head of silky blue-black hair and touched on his rich royal blue cheek lightly with her velvet green gloves. "'Atta boy."
Her smile was sad, it always was with him, but he rarely noticed it.
Years ago she had vouched on an act of murder, of revenge on Him for ever doing this to her only beloved brother. So far the only thing that had stopped her from trying was the concern of her mother, but she still held the personal promise true to heart and the will to do it only strengthened with every day that went by like this.
He continued to bounce around the room more like that excited six-year-old than the sixteen year old he was, telling her eagerly about his day's adventures in the house. Most were made up but the tales he wove made him happy and she was all too pleased to hear them in turn for that happiness. Days like these, good days when he wasn't fitting with frustration and lashing out at the objects around him, were far and few between and so in Rogue's view, they deserved her full attention.
But always at the back of her mind lingered His face and His foolishness and her lust for revenge on her dear, beloved brother Kurt.
They say revenge is sweet, a saying Rogue held just as close to her heart as the wish to commit the act was.