AN: I am sooooo sorry it took so long! But I made this chapter extra long to make up for the wait! I also apologise for the strong language used by several of the characters; what can I say, its just who they are. Oh, and as a final note (and then I will stop wasting your time, I promise!) I envision Logan as kind of like Luke from Gilmore Girls - facial expressions and short temper included, lol!
And now for the moment you have all been waiting for…
Disclaimer: I own the concept…not the characters.
Ain't Such A Bad Place to Be
"…Soldier on, be strong, the simple reason is I'm skin and bone.
Best not be scared, just to be aware that alone;
It ain't such a bad place to be because we're opposites
I know you, so don't come creeping back, I'm on my feet again
I'll show you, put you out like a cigarette
A metaphor not to forget
To forgive, it's positively wrong…"
'Ain't Such A Bad Place to Be' by Will Young
Two hours after Rogue and Logan's emotional display, the girls were prettying themselves for that nights show - after promising Logan they would not mention the 'incident' ever again. Rogue was still tense; it had been three months since she last missed a show - and even then she was capable of working if she was needed. She didn't like leaving the girls 'unprotected', if something happened tonight she would never forgive herself. Then there was Kitty to consider; she was supposed to be eased in gently - instead, she was being thrown in at the deep-end because they were a girl short. But the the Roses seemed unaffected by the turn of events.
It was just like any other, normal, day in the dressing room; Amara was trying on different outfits for her performance, Tabby was painting her toenails - whilst clad in nothing but a thong and a bra, Jean was straightening her already perfect hair and Emma was smoking in the corner - not even having started to get ready. Rogue was ignoring her anxiety by helping a completely hopeless Kitty to apply her make up.
The tranquillity of the room was broken by a sharp squeal; Amara had suddenly frozen clutching a skirt to her exposed chest, in an attempt to cover herself. Tabby was by her side within a second, staring at her best friend with anxious eyes.
"What is it 'Mar?" At Tabby's question Jean moved towards the pair, scrutinising the wall where Amara's gaze was fixed.
"Spider?" The redhead guessed, throwing a confused look at Amara when she failed to notice anything out of place. Amara shook her head at Jean assumption, her eyes never leaving their focus.
"The red light is on…" All the others simply looked on with confusion, but Rogue felt a jolt of adrenaline as she made sense of the young girl's words. She was at Amara's shoulder and focused on the corner of the room before Amara could finish her sentence. "The camera is on!"
"No way!" Tabby turned her attention towards the small security camera, as she laughed in disbelief. "There is no way he would be that stupid…"
"I wouldn't be so sure; Fred Dukes is as thick as shit." Emma added as she too scrutinised the camera. Rogue's reaction was instinctual; her lack of sleep and emotional turmoil over last night had left her feeling slightly reckless.
"Get yaselves decent gals; we're goin' nerd huntin'" She announced and stopped briefly to put on a pair of five-inch stiletto boots, before storming out of the room. Grapping their clothes, the girls followed suit; an air of excitement sweeping over them.
"What the hell are you up to now?" Logan demanded as the army of scantily-clad women marched through the club.
"Dukes has been spying again." Tabby explained with a smile, as she and Amara dragged a thoroughly bemused Kitty after their leader. Logan assessed the situation - Rogue was fuming and out for revenge - and stepped in between his favourite Rose and the door behind the bar.
"You need any help kid?" He asked, when Rogue glared at his interference.
"Do Ah look like Ah need ya help, Logan?!" She fumed in response, raising her eyebrows to challenge him. He automatically stepped down, letting her push past.
"Ten bucks says she leaves him with an injury." Emma grinned, throwing a note onto the bar as she passed.
"Fine. But I want twenty if she makes him cry as well." Logan agreed as he added his own note to the pile.
The door behind the bar led to the club's storage area, the 'security' headquarters and the real emergency exit. The walls were grey and damp and the floor was plain concrete. The storage area could be see through a large archway on the right wall; it consisted of three rooms, leading off of each other and joined by arches. The first room had been turned into a make-shift coat-room with a small curtained-off area at the back, where all of the non-live-in girls changed for work. The other two rooms were Logan's domain; filled with shelves and crates of alcohol ready and waiting to restock the bar - there was also a small desk and lamp, pushed into the corner of one of the rooms, which held all of Logan's paperwork and was, therefore, never used.
The 'security' headquarters and emergency exit were right down the opposite end of the corridor, on the far wall - two doors next to each other. In fact, they were so far down the corridor that they were actually part of next-doors building. The exit - which the girls had been taught to use in case of an emergency, because their fire-escape, upstairs, was too much of a safety hazard to actually be used - was really a door leading into the shop next-doors basement. It also served as an entrance and exit for their security officer, Fred Dukes; he, the Wild Roses, Ororo Monroe and Logan were the only people that knew of it's existence - as well as Mr Lensherr and his bullies, Victor Creed and Poitr Rasputin, of course.
But, at the moment, the girls only cared about the small room at the end of the corridor; they didn't even pause outside to knock - they just barrelled straight in and faced their Peeping-Tom.
The six girls burst through the door and fell into the cramped room. The majority of the room was filled with stacks of empty pizza boxes and bottles of beer; it was disgusting. The small desk, squashed against the far wall, held piles of small televisions; all showing a different view of the club - from outside to inside. In front of the desk sat an exceedingly large man who was in his early twenties; the small office-chair that he dominated appeared to be to small and frail to hold his bulk, especially with the arm-rests digging into his sides.
"Um…hey, girls…this is a surprise!" Fred Dukes stuttered, looking completely flustered and utterly guilty. Rogue put on a coy smile and made her way towards him; swaying her hips and inclining her head to make the perfect 'come hither' look.
"Now, don't ya tell me ya didn't see us coming…" She gestured towards the monitors on the desk, while positioning herself so that she was standing virtually in between Dukes' open legs.
"Um…well, yeah…I did, but…" He faltered when he noticed the alluring look in Rogue's eye. "How may I help you girls?"
"It's good of ya ta ask. Ya see; we have this lil' problem - it appears that the light is on, on the dressing room camera…" Rogue moved closer to the increasingly uneasy boy "Which would seem ta suggest that it was on…"
"That's impossible!" Fred objected, far too quickly "I swear; it isn't on Rogue!…Look at the monitors; it's not there!" Rogue shot a conspiratorial smile in Emma's direction. Clearly interpreting the instruction; the blonde made to move a pizza box that was, rather conspicuously, propped against one of the monitors - exposing a view of their dressing-room.
"Now how about that, gals? Ah think Freddie here has been lying ta us…"
"I swear; I don't know how it got turned on!…I didn't…I wouldn't…I, mean…" Dukes' stuttering was swiftly silenced by the dangerous flash that illuminated Rogue's eyes. Without warning, Rogue's foot had risen and was placed in between Fred's legs; the heel of her stiletto firmly placed against his groin. Suddenly the room was tense.
Kitty was shocked. She had heard of Rogue's reputation and experienced her infamous temper; but Katherine Pryde could honestly say that she had never seen anyone look as dangerous as Rogue did at that moment. Purely in complete control, yet wild enough to do anything; this was survival of the fittest and it was clear how Rogue was still standing.
"Now, ya'll are goin' ta turn that invasion of privacy off…and ya'll are goin' ta keep it off. Do ya understand me?" Rogue's voice was pitched so low that its woven threat could make even Logan squirm; yet it still managed to sound alluring. She was a human siren and all Freddie could do was nod.
"Then, ya'll are goin' ta destroy all of tha footage from tha dressin' room - without keepin' any copies. Is that clear enough?" Once again, Fred nodded. The mammoth man then emitted a strangled squeak as Rogue's heel was pressed closer to his manhood.
"Ah suggest ya stick ta tha rules from now on, sugar… 'cos tha next time Ah have ta come down here, Ah won't bring my stilettos; Ah'll bring my knife." Blessing Fred with a predator's smirk, Rogue removed her foot and turned to leave - leaving Freddie with a hammering heart and damp palms.
She was halfway towards the door before inspiration hit. Before anyone even notice the glowering of Rogue's eyes; she was already back in her previous position - Fred looking as though he may suffer a stroke, as a result of the near continuous stress the Angel was causing him.
"Give me tha tape from last night!" Her voice wasn't as controlled as before, which bothered the other girls; Rogue did not lose control in situations such as these. The slight change in her demeanour appeared to have confused her victim.
"What?" Fred's shaken question was barely audible. In his head he was re-living the last few moments; trying to discover what he had done to cause The Rogue to pounce.
"Ah said; Ah want the tapes from last night!…" She emphasised her demand by applying more pressure to her heel. "Ah don't trust ya ta delete it…Ah need ta makes sure that it's gone…"
"I…I, well…I can't…" Fred's body was starting to quiver.
"That's tha wrong answer, sugar…" Rogue's heel started to bite at his skin.
"No! Please!! It was Creed…I-It was Creed!"
"Explain." The order was barely a growl, but it caused a shiver to engulf all that heard it.
""H-He came in a-and got it this morning…I don't have it - I swear!"
Creed. Of course he would. The bastard, the fucking bastard…Freddie was released as Rogue regained control. She swept across the room and launched the monitor, displaying their dressing room, at the opposite wall. Her destructive behaviour appeared to have knocked Dukes out of his fear induced stupor.
"Are you crazy?! Do you have any idea how much that cost?!"
"Get Lensherr to bill me…" Rogue was in control again. She knew Creed; knew what to expect - so why should she expect anything else? So he had a tape of…it; so he could relive it - maybe it would keep him entertained enough to stay away…for awhile.
"Come on girls."
As they made their way back towards the bar, the phrase "Crazy Bitch!" followed them through the halls. Rogue smirked as the tension finally left her body.
When the girls emerged back into the bar, Logan could see the difference in Rogue immediately.
"You look happier."
"Ah happen ta find that threatenin' someone's family jewels is very therapeutic." The Rogue grinned seductively and disappeared backstage, the girls in tow. Emma picked up her money as she passed the bar.
"Hang on there Blondie!" Logan's call caused Tabby and Emma to stop at the door. "You only bet 10 bucks." Emma smiled and place the 20, from the bar, down her top.
"That's funny, because I distinctly remember betting a 20..." her smirk only served to infuriate Logan further.
"Come on, hand the money over." Emma turned to Tabby - rather uncharacteristically - for support.
"How much did I bet Tabs?" The pixie blonde smiled impishly.
"Sorry Logie; but Emma owes me money, so I'm siding with her." Tabby reached down Emma's top and retrieved the note, as they followed the others.
"Bloody hookers! Can't trust 'em." His gruff mumble was interrupted by a shrill laugh.
"They've so got you wrapped around their fingers." Raven was leaning on the bar smirking at the imposing man in front of her - highly amused. "Tell me Logan; how does it feel to be so whipped?"
"Fuck off, Raven, and get back to work!"
"Moody Wanker…"
A month passed, and things had began to settle into a steady routine at the Rose Garden. The girls would wake up around 10 o'clock and spend their day taking care of whatever chores needed to be done; at 6 o'clock they would start preparing themselves for an evening of work; by 12:30pm the club would be cleared ready for the girls to have a wind-down, before heading to bed - of course there were a few exceptions to this rule, depending on whether one of the girls was entertaining a "special" client. Sundays, of course, were reserved for shopping and any other recreational activities the girls wished to partake in - however Logan would still come in, declaring that he needed to protect his bar against the girls (if he left them alone, there would be no alcohol left by Monday); but his real reasoning was so that he could look after them.
The normality of it all had lulled the girls into a false sense of security. They were perfectly comfortable to continue their lives as they had been; The Rogue went back to work after gaining Eric's "approval", Katherine Pryde had settled in and no-longer needed to be looked after, Fred Dukes had obviously taken Rogue's threat seriously and Victor Creed had apparently decided that his job security was far more important than his libido. However, exactly one month after that fatal week, the third unfortunate event hit the Wild Roses - just like they say; bad things always happen in threes.
It was a Friday evening and the girls had finished work for the night. Logan had yet to announce that the club was clear, so the girls were waiting in the dressing room. Amara and Kitty were trying to get Jean to admit that she dyes her hair, Emma was smoking and reading an out of date magazine, Rogue was pouring over several work-related documents and, as usual, Tabby was the last to be ready. A quiet knock rang through the room, but the visitor was ignored by it's occupants.
"I'm starving!" Tabby proclaimed as she threw herself on the bench, in between Kitty and Amara - after, finally, dragging herself away from the mirror. "You think Logan will cook me something?"
"I wouldn't push him tonight if I were you." Ororo Monroe's voice drifted through the now open doorway. As usual, she was hardly acknowledged by the girls; but she knew that they were listening. "He is rather tense tonight. St John had a meeting with Mr Lensherr earlier this evening and he has been sitting at the bar - annoying Logan - since it finished. It's quite entertaining…"
"Whoa, there 'Ro!" Tabby announced whilst jumping to her feet. Rogue was also affected by Ororo's news; but she chose a less obvious reaction. "Did you just say that the one and only St John; The Avenger is in our bar, right now?" Tabby pressed, her excitement evident as she gripped Monroe's shoulders.
"Yes…" Ororo smiled at the young woman's child-like behaviour; this was why she was here, braving the dangers of their inner-sanctum, to spread joy to them with news of their visitor. "He said he wanted to see you…"
"Oh-my-god!" Tabby and Amara squealed whilst sharing a gleeful look and rushing out of the door.
"Excellent. I hope Logan actually throws something this time!" Emma smirked and followed the two teenagers. Jean took a bemused Kitty by the arm and lead her after the others.
"Come on, this is something you won't want to miss."
Rogue was the last to leave; slowly standing and processing the information everyone else had overlooked. She turned to Ororo, who was clearly about to leave; 'Ro didn't look too upset - a little tired, perhaps, but not upset. Then again, it was unlikely that, if there was any news, it would have found it's way to her already.
"Do ya know what tha meetin' was about?" The question had clearly taken Ororo off guard; so if there was any new information, she clearly hadn't been exposed to it yet.
"No, sorry…" Rogue smiled encouragingly, so as not to worry the older woman, and waved over her shoulder before making her way towards the bar and the rest of her dysfunctional family. "Goodnight Rogue."
They entered the club to find a harassed looking Logan towering over a flame haired youth, who was grinning manically at him from the other side of the bar. The young man appeared to be unperturbed by the gruff barman's deadly expression; his crystal blue eyes that danced with laughter and excitement showed that, perhaps, he rather enjoyed the stress he was inducing.
"I'm not going to pay for it. Look mate; it ain't my fault if you can't make the right cocktail. I asked for a Tequila Sunrise."
"This is a Tequila Sunrise!" Logan slammed he glass, he was holding, onto the bar.
"No it isn't, mate…" The boy with the Australian accent let his smirk grow, as he pushed the drink back towards Logan - it appeared that the argument had been going on for sometime. "I wanted; Tequila, Cointreau and Lime…"
"Well then, that would make it a Margarita!" Logan was yelling in exasperation. "A Tequila Sunrise is; white Tequila, orange juice and Grenadine! If you want a Margarita, I will make you a Margarita!"
"But I want a Tequila Sunrise…"
"You have a Tequila Sunrise!"
"But it's not made with Tequila Cointreau and Lime…"
"Because that would make it a Margarita not a Tequila Sunrise!" Logan looked as though he was seriously considering smashing the glass in the youth's laughing face.
"Why don't ya just make him what he asks for, Logan?" Rogue suggested from the doorway - where she and the other girls had been watching the show, put on by the two men who were oblivious to their presence.
"I will, but only when he admits that he is asking for the wrong drink!" Logan's attention had not swayed from the boy in front of him. The youth, however, now had his attentions firmly turned to their audience. He took a bow and then opened his arms towards the girls.
"Sheilas!"
"Monkey!" Tabby ran forwards - knocking over a chair in the process - and launched herself into his awaiting arms. He squeezed her back ad then opened one of his arms so that he could scoop Amara - who had followed Tabby with same much enthusiasm - under it.
"It's good to see you girls, its been too long!" Amara and Tabby disentangled themselves from the beaming boy, so that Jean could kiss him on the cheek.
"You are the one that hasn't visited in two months!" Tabby administered a friendly punch to her long-absent friend's shoulder. Emma - who had thrown a victorious grin at the still trembling Logan whilst hugging the boy - and Rogue had now joined the group. At Tabby's statement, the mischievous grin had left the youths features and he let out a sigh before taking both of Rogue's hands in welcome.
"Sorry about that Sheila…I didn't think it was a good time to be visiting." He looked closely into Rogue's eyes and then turned to look at Kitty. "I figured you girls had too much to deal with at the moment…"
"Oh, yeah! Monkey, this is Katherine Pryde. Kitty, this is St John!" Tabby - who was now snuggled up to St John's side, with his arm slung over her shoulder - motioned between the two as way of introduction.
"Nice to meet ya Sheila! If Tabs is this excited about you I'm sure you'll be fun to have around." St John took Kitty's hand in greeting before turning back to Rogue.
"Ya really shouldn't have stayed away so long, Sugar. Us gals can cope just fine; its not as though tha world is goin' ta end 'cos we have ta look after a new gal." Kitty thought that Rogue's answer was vaguely hypocritical, considering their reactions to herself as the 'new girl.'
"Yeah, well…I knew you were likely to be stressed out and wouldn't want my handsome face around, distracting all of your workers!" Logan tutted audibly from somewhere behind them. After a pause, St John became serious again. "And…well…I figured you would need your space…" He looked over at Rogue again "Creed has a big ego and an even bigger mouth…"
"Been braggin', has he?" Rogue's voice didn't even waver on the question. Her brief time of weakness was officially over; she could now go back to hating the bastard.
"You know what he's like Sheila…"
"Why are ya here St John?" The abruptness in Rogue's change topic, confused the usually undisturbable.
"Um, well…I just thought I'd stop by and say hi…I can go if you want…"
"Ah didn't mean that, sugar…Ah wanted to know what ya meetin' with Eric was about. He mentioned that ya were lookin' into Charles 'incident', Ah wondered if ya had any leads?"
"Ahh…Sorry Sheila; I was just here for a job debriefing." Rogue sat down and put her head in her hands. "I'm looking but there just ain't no information to find."
"No leads?" Jean joined the conversation furrowing her brow and taking the seat next to Rogue.
"Oh no, we have plenty of leads." St John smiled and joined Rogue and Jean at the table, leaning across it towards them. "In fact, we know who did it…"
"Nathanial Essex." Rogue added.
"Exactly. Problem is; we have no bloody evidence! And you know the rules; we can't take revenge without proof. Unfortunately, everyone that works for Essex knows that it is more than their life's worth, to brag about anything as high-profile as the hit on Xavier." St John sighed in exasperation of the dead-end his job had taken. Then he smiled up at Tabby, Amara, Emma and Kitty, motioning for them to join the group; to anyone that knew him, it was obvious that St John was changing the topic of conversation because the current one was becoming too serious for his liking.
"So, St John, what exactly is, like, your job here?" Kitty enquired, once the conversation had turned to topics she could actually follow.
"Well, I technically don't work here, Sheila. I work freelance, but I have a contract with Lensherr." He smiled at Kitty's bemused expression. "I'm a professional arsonist Sheila."
"Professional arse is more like it…" Logan's gruff mumble came from behind the bar.
"Play nicely Logan…" Emma drawled at him, whilst hanging over St John - who had his arms draped across the back of her and Tabby's chairs - for effect.
"When did arson, like, become a profession?" Kitty asked.
"Since someone as skilled as me decided to charge for it Sheila." St John smirked over at Logan "They call me Saint John; The Avenger, and I have to say; I'm pretty famous…"
"And modest too…" Logan's rant was cut short by Rogue's warning glare.
"…Even the police have heard of my work, Sheila. I target the homes of scum, lowlifes and crooks. Lensherr hires me to go after people that owe him money; I torch their house as a first warning, then - if they still don't pay - the Boss sends Creed or Rasputin after them. Simple."
"But, if the police, like, know it's you; why don't you get caught?"
"'Cos Sheila, they don't know who they are looking for. There are very few people in this town that can actually put the name St John to a face - yourself included." St John gave a beaming smile, clearly proud of his achievements. Logan cleared his throat and set two pitchers and seven glasses down on the table.
"There you go; one Margarita and one Tequila Sunrise. Happy now?"
"Actually, I'd rather just have a beer." St John handed his glass back to Logan, who stared at him in amazement.
"What?" The question was no more than a hiss through Logan's teeth.
"Yeah, I'm not really a cocktail kind of guy…so I'll just have the beer thanks." Logan spun around and threw St John's superfluous glass to the floor. At which, Emma held her hand out to Tabby - who grudgingly handed over a folded 20.
"So, St John, ya'll never guess who Ah was talkin' ta last week." Rogue sat back at the table with another round of drinks in hand.
"Santa Claus?"
"Cute, but no. It was Wanda, Sugar."
"Really? How is she these days?"
"She said ya call her every night. Said that, once - when she refused ta answer - ya called seventeen times in a row!"
"What can I say? I'm in love, Sheila!"
"That's not love, Sugar; that practically boarders on stalking."
"Well if she would agree to go out with me, then I wouldn't have to follow her around, would I?" He said it as though it were the most obvious behaviour in the world.
"Ya'll are crazy."
"Love makes us crazy Sheila, love makes us crazy…"
"Ya'll are creepin' her out. Ya have seriously gotta stop this, Sugar. If not for her sake, then for your's; Eric ain't goin' ta like it when he finds out that ya are pervin' over his daughter."
"Wanda Maximoff is going to wake up one morning and realise that she is desperately in love with me…until then I just will have to make do with imagining her in the shower…" Kitty and Jean pulled disgusted faces as the other girls laughed along with the pyromaniac.
"I was under the impression that our meeting finished three hours ago St John. Would you kindly explain to me, what you are still doing in my club, after-hours?" Eric Lensherr's dangerously polite voice wove across the room.
"Sorry Boss, just catching up with the Sheilas…" Lensherr's eyes hardened "Well then…guess I'll be off…Night boss." St John collected their glasses and took them over to Logan.
"My office, now." Lensherr demanded of Rogue, who followed immediately; throwing a small wave to St John as she left.
"You'll visit us soon, right Monkey?" Tabby and the rest of the girls made their way over to the bar.
"Why do you, like, call him 'Monkey'?" Kitty enquired, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.
"'Cos he's short and hairy." Logan chimed in with a gruff smirk.
"You might wanna look in a mirror before you start making accusations like that, mate…" St John looked Logan up and down to emphasise his point and then quickly dodged the punch Logan threw his way. "Night Sheilas."
"It's a term of endearment Kit…" Amara clarified as they waved St John out of the door.
"Yeah, he's cute, funny and adorable." Tabby sighed "Just like a monkey in dungarees and rollerblades…"
"Since when do ya care whether we have visitors?" Rogue sat in her familiar seat in front of Eric Lensherr's desk. Her boss was visibly stressed, which made her uncomfortable; Eric never showed any type of emotion - except for infuriating politeness - unless he was too far gone to reign it in.
"You have work tomorrow. I would prefer it that, my girls - the best of the best - were not to tired to function adequately. I do not wish to lose money through your error, Rogue." Eric's eyes were dangerously dark.
"It's barely one o'clock; most nights, we don't turn in until three. We still manage to 'function adequately' then."
"It would do you good to remember your place, my dear. You may lead the girls here, but I am still your superior." The icy edge to his tone told Rogue that she needed to back-down.
"Ah'm sorry, Sir…" She added with false politeness.
"Good, now that that's settled, we have a few matters to discuss." Eric walked over to his cabinet and poured two, rather full, glasses of Scotch. He downed half of his own before handing Rogue hers. She took it cautiously; it was severely unlike Eric to offer a mere prostitute his personal supply. "Am I correct in assuming that Miss Braddock took all of her possessions with her, when she…left?" Rogue almost choked on her drink.
"Betsy?" She clarified that she had heard correct; nobody mentioned them - Lorna and Betsy - especially not Eric.
"Yes, my dear; Elizabeth Braddock - I'm sure you remember her, she used to work here…" If Rogue was not so shocked, she would have been more bothered about Eric's condescending tone.
"Yes, Betsy took everythin' with her…" Rogue was cut off by Eric's smile; it made her suspicious.
"So, the room is empty - is that correct?"
"Yes; tha only people that go in there are tha maids, when they clean once a month…What's goin' on Eric?"
"I am simply making sure that the room is ready for your new housemate to move-in." Eric levelled his gaze with Rogue's, waiting for the reaction he knew was coming.
"Eric…" Her voice was steady and her body was tense. The Rogue was desperately trying to control her emotions; she could not afford to infuriate Eric further. "Ya promised me that there would be no more after Kitty. We - Ah cannot handle it…"
"Well I suggest you try! I believe that I have already mentioned this once tonight; but I am your boss! You will do as I say, when I say it! I am becoming quite tired of you constantly questioning my actions; I suggest you re-think your attitude." By the time Eric had finished, Rogue was shaking. Her body was tense with anger and hatred; she could not stand being controlled or dominated - and there was no way she could win in this situation.
"When does she arrived?" Eric smirked triumphantly; he had won.
"Poitr is picking him up now; they should be arriving in about five minutes." Rogue threw a petulant look towards the older man in front of her, but then balked as his phrasing finally dawned on her.
"Did ya just say him?"
The girls had almost finished tidying the bar, when the club door slammed open. Logan - who had been in the stock room, behind the bar, retrieving his coat - ran back towards the girls, who had all frozen at the sight of their intruder.
"Poitr? Is that you?" Jean - who was closest to the door - squinted at the darkened entrance, just making out the bulky outline of a tense giant.
"Da, Jean. It is me..." Poitr sounded tired and slightly guarded.
"What do you want at this time of night?" Logan demanded of the considerably taller man. As Poitr moved into the light, he visibly cringed; refusing to meet their eyes.
"It is not a good thing for why I am here…" Whenever Poitr was worried he struggled with his English, preferring to slip into Russian as a defence mechanism. "I am sorry…"
"What's the matter, Petey?" Tabby used Poitr's nickname to try and soothe the obviously anxious Russian. At that moment Emma caught sight of another body in the doorway - this one considerably smaller and leaner than Poitr. But she could not identify him.
"You got something you want to tell us, Rasputin?" Emma cautioned; throwing a wary glance at the person, still shadowed, in the doorway.
"It is difficult…" Poitr, too, gave the stranger a fleeting look before returning his attentions to the six other occupants of the room; all five girls were standing with their arms crossed looking expectant. "I was not supposed to have to tell you this - Rogue should be the one to…but, she is clearly not here…"
"Get on with it Tin-man." Logan gruffly cautioned. (A/N: In this story, Poitr's 'Tin-man' nickname refers to his job as muscle-for-hire but with a heart of gold - which is unusual - comparing him to the Tin-man in 'The Wizard of OZ' - who wanted a heart.)
"I have been to the airport…" Poitr Rasputin sighed; Mr Lensherr should have briefed Rogue by now. She should be the one to tell them - then again; maybe it is better that she is not here. I do not wish to face her anger of the situation. "I went to pick up your new housemate…I am so sorry."
"Say that again, bub; 'cos you did not just say what I thought you said." Logan's eyes turned hard as he glared at the gentle Russian. The stranger in the shadows decided that his introduction was taking too long; it was time to face the music.
"Bonjour, mes amis…"
"No Eric! No Fuckin' way!" Rogue was on her feet; blood and adrenaline pulsing through her body too fast.
"I would advise that you sit down, my dear." Eric's eyes narrowed "This matter is not up for discussion; you will do as I say!"
"No Eric!" Lensherr's eyes flashed dangerously; warning Rogue that she was stepping out of her place. "Ah mean it! There is no way Ah am lettin' a male live with us!"
"That is not your decision to make, my dear; the premises is mine to do with as I wish, as you well know."
"Ah will not let this happen, Eric. Ah work myself in ta the ground, Ah risk my life and Ah put myself through hell - all ta keep those gals safe. Ah refuse ta just hand them over ta some guy on a plate! Ah will not put them at risk!" In a split second, the room changed; suddenly Lensherr was fuming. He launched himself across the table, grabbing Rogue's arm in a vice-like grip and pulling her towards him so that their faces were practically touching. She allowed her eyes to go wide and her body to tense; trying to pull away from the raging man.
"You will do as I tell you! Is that understood?! You will not argue; you will not complain! It would do you good to remember that I can make your life a misery; you belong to me - all of you do! You will do as you are told! Do you understand me?!" He shook Rogue until she nodded her head in agreement. Satisfied that he had won, Eric pushed Rogue back into her seat and released her arm. The Rogue looked away from the older man; unable to meet his eyes as she fought the traitorous tears that tried to escape hers eyes. Instead, she focussed on massaging her arm; it would definitely bruise. When she had finally gained control over herself, she looked up to find Eric Lensherr staring at her intently.
"Ah don't understand why he has to stay here…" Her voice was small, weak and embarrassing.
"The boy has many talents and some particularly impressive contacts that will benefit my business considerably." Eric levelled his gaze with Rogue's; clearly warning her against anymore emotional displays. "He has nowhere to live; so I am offering him shelter in exchange for his services."
"But why does he have ta stay with us? Why not make him share an apartment with Logan or Poitr?"
"Because, my dear, it has come to my attention that I no longer hold the loyalty of many of my employees."
"We are all loyal ta ya, Eric, ya know that."
"Really? Then why did it take me two months to discover that you were living here without paying your way? Why was it a client, not an employee, that told me of Miss Danes betraying a clients secret to the police? How was it that Miss Braddock successfully managed to partake in a relationship, with a client's son, for four months before I was told? And let us not forget that when Miss Braddock and Mr Worthington decided to run away together, my 'loyal' employees actually aided them - rather than turning them over to me, as they should have done."
"But…" Eric raised a had to halt Rogue's protest.
"I do not underestimate the power you have over people, Rogue; it is a great gift that enables you to be the best at what you do. Unfortunately, for me, that same gift has also forged relationships between you and my other employees." Eric smiled "I am not naive, my dear; I realise that Logan, Mr Summers and Mr Rasputin hold more loyalty towards you and your girls, than they do for me. Unfortunately, that is becoming a problem."
"So ya are brinin' in a new guy ta keep an eye on us?" Eric smirked when realisation dawned on Rogue.
"For awhile now, I have relied on Victor Creed to 'keep an eye on' my Wild Roses." Rogue suppressed a shiver as she thought of Creed. "However, of late, Mr Creed has become an unwelcome guest in your home; which makes it difficult for him to gain any information.."
"He was always unwelcome…" Rogue's icy mutter cut through the conversation, but was ignored by Eric.
"…So, I believe it is time to try a different approach. I think that you and the girls will get along particularly well with the young man; he has an exceedingly charming personality…"
"No Way!" The five girls screeched in unison.
"Rogue won't like this Petey." Tabby shook her head.
"I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do. Mr Lensherr was adamant that he is to stay here." Poitr Rasputin was desperate for the angry women to understand him. They were becoming rather confrontational and his companion was no help what-so-ever; just leaning against the wall and smirking as though he were enjoying the show.
"Well you can go and tell Lensherr where he can stick his 'new employee'! He is not staying here!" Emma was becoming particularly aggressive.
"Leave Poitr alone, Emma. It's not, like, his fault." Kitty felt obliged to stick up for the man who spent the last month looking after her and helping her settle in to life at The Rose Garden.
"What the hell is Lensherr playing at?! Rogue is barely keeping it together as it is! Any more 'surprises' and she'll go into meltdown!" Logan growled, switching his attention between the Russian and the cocky -looking new-comer.
"I do not know what to say…I am so sorry…" Poitr was cut off by a southern voice, as two people entered the club from backstage.
"It's alright Poitr, don't ya worry yaself, Sugar." Rogue smiled gently to reassure him and then turned to her girls. "He stays; end of discussion." They all nodded and threw apologetic glances at Mr Lensherr, before turning to the bar to get drinks.
"Now that, that is all settled…" Lensherr turned towards his newest employee "I must apologise; the delayed arrival of your flight has caused a few problems for me. Perhaps we can reschedule your welcome meeting for tomorrow morning? I'm sure the girls will look after you until then."
"Ce n'est pas un problème. See you tomorrow Boss." The stranger inclined his head and pushed off of the wall, making his way towards his newly-acquired housemates.
"Mr Rasputin, perhaps you will be so kind as to drive me home?" Eric Lensherr did not wait for an answer; he walked straight out of the door, knowing that Poitr would follow. The Russian waved towards the girls before following his boss - desperate to escape the tense atmosphere in the club.
He was enjoying the atmosphere; he had always enjoyed winding other people up - and these guys were too easy. The blonde bitch was worried that he was going to try and take advantage of them. Ha! Was it even possible to take advantage of a hooker? Besides, he had never had trouble getting women; if anything, these girls should be paying him. But, regardless; He had no interest in these girls. Of course they were pretty - plain gorgeous in some cases - but he had been raise to respect women, even if they did not respect themselves.
They were doing their best to ignore him; which suited him fine. It gave him more time to study them and figure them out. Currently, his attentions were focussed on the woman that had entered the room with his new boss; by the way the others talked to and acted around her, it was clear she was their superior - hierarchy amongst hookers, what will they think of next? She had her back to him, but he could tell she was stunning; long shapely legs wrapped in dark jeans - that were slung low on her round and well proportioned hips, a small waist - emphasised by her cropped black cardigan that covered a hunter-green vest top - and long wavy, chocolate locks - whose silk practically begged to be touched. Her outfit was, by far, the most modest of all the girls - with, perhaps, the exception of the red-head who was clad in a black velour tracksuit - yet it managed to make her more appealing. Finally, she was turning - giving him his first glimpse of her face.
He froze. His heart stopped. His breath stuck. Images of that face, only much younger, flooded his mind. In his head he saw a river bank; felt the terror as he saw a boy, he hated, push a girl, he cared for, into the water and into the path of a moving boat. He felt the cold water prickle his body as he dove in after her; felt the adrenaline rush that enabled him to pull her free - her hair, that had tangled in the boats propeller, yanking from her head - and onto the bank. He felt the tears that had prickled his eyes as he saw the great bloody gashes that marred her forehead; he felt the guilt that had consumed him as he watched her hair grow back - only to be turned pure white with the shock of the incident.
He knew only one person with white streaked hair that framed dazzling emerald eyes.
"Anna?" His whispered question was heartfelt enough to gain the attention of everyone in the room. Those pools of green were finally focused on him - sharp with alarm - and he knew it was true.
"You want something punk?" Logan's gruff question was ignored by the young man; who moved closer to The Rogue.
"Anna, is that y'?" His eyes were so focussed on Rogue that there was no longer any doubt of who he was talking to.
"Ah think ya are mistaking me for someone else…" Rogue's eyes turned steely as she gave a warning glare to the boy in front of her.
"Anna, chere, its Remy; Remy Labeau…"
"Ah honestly don't know what ya'll are talkin' about. Now, if ya excuse me, Ah have work ta do." As she turned to leave - annoyingly aware that all eyes were watching them - Remy lightly clutched her arm; almost desperately.
"I know it's y' chere! I recognise y' hair.; who else has white streaked hair like that?"
"Um…Ah dunno; Anyone that can read tha instructions on tha back of a packet of hair dye?" Rogue let her sarcasm hide her panic.
"Y' hair is natural…" Inside Rogue was cringing - they were going to find out, she could see it in their eyes; she had always insisted that her hair was natural. "And I have never met anyone with eyes like y'. I know it's y' chere." Rogue pulled her arm out his grip and turned her back on everyone. "Please, Anna! I have been looking for y' for five years; please talk to me!" Then she knew Logan could see that Remy was telling the truth; five years - exactly how long she had been working at the club.
"Just leave it Remy!" She spun around and glared into his eyes; those eyes - those brown eyes that darkened when he was angry or sad and that almost sparkled with red when he was infuriated. Those eyes she knew so well, she could tell his thoughts from them - eyes that she hoped she would never see again.
"I knew it was y' chere!" He pulled her into a hug; his beaming smile showed that he was too ecstatic with relief to notice that she did not return it. "What are y' doing here?" The laughter in his voice proved that he had not even considered the answer his question might prompt.
"Ah work here…" Rogue's voice was hard, as though she was defying him to give the reaction she knew was coming. Remy's arms dropped immediately; freeing her from his embrace and enabling her to cross her arms in a protective stance.
"Oh…" Remy appeared almost confused. "How long have y' been here?"
"Five years…" Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it was enough to change Remy's whole demeanour. His body tensed and his eyes became hard. His newly adopted aggressive stance caused Logan to make his way towards the pair.
"Five years? Five years?!" Remy's voice was getting steadily louder "We have been looking for y' for five years. I have been looking for y' for five years! An' y' were here all along! Working as a…as a…" In his rage, Remy appeared to be struggling with the correct terminology.
"A what Remy? A prostitute? A hooker? A whore? Pick a name that's good for ya sugar, 'cos they're all tha same!" Rogue was in full defensive mode; who was he to come into her home - after all this time - and treat her like dirt?
"Hey, hey, hey! Why don't you kids calm down, yeah?" Logan thought it best to intervene before one of them completely lost it.
"Why?" Remy ignored Logan and growled his question in Rogue's direction.
"It's easy money." She raised her eyebrows and gave Remy a seductive look. He moved to grab Rogue by the shoulders; Logan was there immediately, placing a hand on Remy's chest and stepping between the two.
"No! I don't care why y' are working here; I want to know why y' left! Why y' never called! Why y' left us all worrying! Why y' let us desperately look for y' for five years! Why y' never put us out of our misery! WHY DID YOU LET US THINK Y' WERE DEAD!" Remy was hysterically screaming by the time he got to the end of his tirade. Rogue just stared at him; his face flushed, his breathing heavy and his eyes gleaming a blood red. Her lack of reaction only infuriated him further. "ANSWER ME!" He demanded and launched himself towards her, ready to attack. The Rogue braced herself for the impact; ready to fight back. But Logan had Remy contained in a restraining hold - with his arms pulled behind his back - before he had even taken a step.
"If I were you; I'd cool it, bub." Logan hissed in Remy's ear. The boy stopped struggling immediately and looked at Rogue with heart-broken eyes.
"Why did y' run away, chere?" His voice was hoarse with confined tears and the stress of the situation. Rogue walked right up to him, placed her face so close that their noses were practically touching and snarled her answer.
"Why do ya even care?"
A/N: So there it is folks! Pryo and Gambit have officially entered the game! So, next chapter we hear how Rogue and Remy know each other and fear not; there will be plenty more tension! Until next time folks, keep reviewing! Please!