My great apologizes for taking so long to post this. I had some writer's block and a small case of lazy. Since I got home early from work I figured I had no more excuses and I had to write today.
Random notes:
A review mentioned that the doctor comment about small talk and sex talk put together wouldn't' fit Rogue because Hank would never say anything like that. However the whole sexually active questioning started when you are like 13 (scary huh?) and at that time Rogue wasn't at the mansion. I was actually referring to doctor visits you have to have fore school and everything. It wasn't referring to Hank at all.
More reviewer notes (reader's digest version):
I want a Remy clone too
Don't feel bad about squealing- I do it when I get a review
Here is my McUpdate (or would x-update be better?)
Noooo! Don't harm Frank the chicken!
I award extra points for giggling like an idiot
Roguey senses- ROFL
Alright- free blog advertising. I can't complain
Yes indeed- all hail Remy the walking sex god
"One more screw up and you are on probation, Gumbo" Wolverine said, finger into Gambit's chest, "Got it?"
"Oui, monsieur Wolverine. I'll be good." Gambit said his smile not matching his words at all. I hid my smile at that. To tell the truth I was still astounded that he was being yelled at while I got completely off the hook. But I wasn't about to complain. Don't bite the hand that feeds right?
Off I went to bed. Wednesday managed to be a perfectly normal day. School, work, home. Yadda Yadda Yadda. Thursday was pretty much the same except for when I had to go down to the family room after dinner. I needed to use the dictionary that was on the shelf in there. I saw Gambit talking with his little fan girls for about 2 minutes before Logan came storming in. He was holding cigarettes.
That's it Gumbo. You are on probation. Smoking is strictly not allowed in the institute. I found these in the garage. I know they are yours. Whatever time you don't spend in the danger room is spent cleaning something. I warned you Gumbo."
"Dat's not very fair Monsieur Wolverine. You have no proof that those are mine. A lot of the students go in the garage."
"Can it Gumbo, you ain't gettin' out of this one. Let's go find some chores for you to do, eh?"
I had no doubt that they were Gambit's cigarettes. I've smelled smoke on him enough to know that. Logan may not like him very much, but he would never try to frame him or anything. Yet for some reason…
"Don't Logan," I said, "Those are mine."
Logan looked like I had hit him. "What?"
"I said those are mine. Those are my cigarettes. I must have left them in the garage. Don't blame the swamp rat."
"You're lying Stripes. I know you don't smoke. Stop covering for him."
"I'm not covering. Those are mine." I said pointed at the package. By this time I was right beside Gambit.
"These are yours huh? Smoke one." He said with a smile. I was just surrounded by arrogant idiots.
He expected me to choke. I wouldn't. I detest smoking. A lot. However I was an anti-social Goth kid. You really think I wasn't sitting behind the bleachers smoking and looking cool during school? Yeah right. I could smoke. If I could light the damn thing. Considering I didn't have a lighter, that was a problem. I couldn't ask for one either. It would look mighty suspicious for a smoker to ask for a lighter.
As I quickly contemplated this I felt a small weight drop into my back pocket. I reached back and felt a metal Zippo lighter. Brilliant. I pulled it out and stuck out my hand for a cigarette. Logan looked a bit affronted that I already had a lighter. Point for me. Okay point for the Cajun who snuck it in there. Picky, picky.
Logan handed over the pack and I pulled one out. The cool way too. You know, where you tap the package on your palm so the cigarettes slide out. I lit one and inhaled. Awful- but I didn't let it show. Kudos for me. Instead I blew a smoke ring for good measure. It was like I was right back under those bleachers. Good times, good times.
You would have thought I made a Semi-truck disappear by the astounded faces that surrounded me at that moment. I held back the clichéd, "Why don't you take a picture…" Someone should give me a trophy.
By that time Logan has gone from astonished to angry. He glared at everyone around him demanding in a rough voice, "Don't you all have homework or something?" Apparently they all did, since they went running. He glared at Gumbo, but Gambit stayed put. "Don't you have something to clean, bub?"
"Non," he replied, "I finished."
"Good, then how about I find you something else to do then?" Logan said with a rather unsettling smile.
Gambit still didn't move so I gave him a pointed look. With a nearly invisible nod to me, he left the room. Logan put his attention back on me. He grabbed the package out of my hands and said, "You don't smoke, kid."
"Well of course I don't," I replied, "you just took my cigarettes."
Some people are ruled by common sense. Some people have dropped it down a drain on their way to kindergarten. Can you guess which category I fit into?
Logan growled but said, "Fine kid, if that is how you want to play it, I'll go with it. You've got car duty."
"Didn't Gambit already clean them?" I asked. It was true. For once, I wasn't' just being a wise-ass.
"He cleaned the outside. You have the inside- vacuuming, dusting etc. Make 'em pretty." He said.
Logan is one man that should never say the word 'pretty'. Gives me chills.
"Fine." I said. He continued to stare at me for a while, maybe in hopes that I would crack and admit that it was Gambit that had smoked. It was a funny moment, the kind you see on T.V. They know you are lying. You know that you are lying. They know that you know that they know you are lying. But you stick with your story anyways and they can't do anything about it. Kind of a queer power trip.
I eventually made it up to my room. When I sat down of course I realized that I hadn't looked up the word that I needed to. Instead of going back down I decided to just lay back on my bed. Not that I find small excuses not to do my homework or anything. Not me. I'm a good little girl.
It didn't really matter anyways, because a knock interrupted my daydreams soon after.
"I don't want any!" I shouted. I should work for customer service when I grow up.
"Wow cherè, no wonder you're so popular." A familiar voice said through the door. Great- a comedian.
"Go away Swampy," I called. He opened the door and came in.
"Were you really bad at those dot to dot pictures when you were younger?" I asked, "Since, you know, you had to follow directions to finish them?"
Gambit just smiled and sat down my bed next to me. In a laughing voice he said, "You covered for me."
Not a question. Just an amusing statement.
"No idea what you are talking about." I said in an innocent voice. Always deny everything. Never confess to anything unless you absolutely have to. (And I mean absolutely).
"You covered for me," He repeated.
"Whatever" I replied. Notice that I admitted nothing.
"So…Truce?" he said, holding out his hand.
I'm not a complete moron. I knew what it meant. If I shook his hand, it would be much more than a truce. It would be a friendship thing. Did I want to be his friend? He had tied me up once after all. But he didn't exactly do it out of malice. Truth was, he had already started to make this place more bearable, whether I wanted to admit it or not. He just wasn't that bad. With a small smile I shook his hand. I figured- who knew? This could turn out to be fun.
Friday came and I went straight to the institute after school. I had requested this day off on Wednesday so that I could do my collar thing. I really should have picked a different way to phrase that to the boys of Hellion's.
"You need to train with a collar? Kinky."
"Wow, they start young this days."
"So, who's helping you with this…collar?"
"We'll be very willing to assist if you need it…"
"I even have a leash at home if you want it…"
I blushed quite badly and told them to go shove their handlebars up their…well, you know where that was going.
By 4 o'clock on Friday afternoon I was sitting on a med lab table sounded by my usual posse of adult males (Thank god I didn't offer that sentence to Marcus and Frank.). Logan snapped the collar on. I was to wear it until nine o'clock. The Professor encouraged me to hang out with the other students during that time for the whole skin on skin thing. (Boom chicka wow-wow) Obviously keeping the training from the other students had stopped being an option when I collapsed. People get a little curious when someone ends up unconscious in the med-wing for over 12 hours. The whole situation had to be explained. I wasn't crazy about it, but I got over it. Hopefully the motivational speeches wouldn't start coming for a while. Motivational speeches annoy me. While I'm stuck listening to people telling me to go do something I could be off doing it. Time is money people!
As requested I headed down to the living room area. Without gloves. I'm just sexy like that. I sat down beside Kitty who was talking amicably with Kurt. Both greeted me warmly when sat down. Too warmly.
"How are you, like, doing Rogue?" she asked in a cheery tone. I've heard her say that sentence without the word "like". She only adds the excessive valley girl stuff when she is nervous. Kurt was smiling at me too. When I caught his eye, he waved. He couldn't have been more than three to four feet away from me. I prayed to god these two would never have to go undercover.
"I'm fine." I said looking at her strangely. She looked right back at me, her odd smile still fixed in place. Kurt just the same. I could see clearly what she was thinking. I know she was asking herself if she should mention the collar- "would it make her upset? Should I just pretend it isn't there? I would I pretend it wasn't there? Should I seem optimistic about it and get her hopes up? What if it doesn't work? Should I act differently? Should I touch her or would it bother her?"
I smiled then. I was curious to see what she would say next. Her smile waned as she said, "Umm…so…um…. like uh, how do you like the weather?"
Okay I was actually starting to feel bad. I think I am growing soft in my old age. I decided to be nice. I reached out and touched her face. Smooth skin. Not hairy. Very nice.
"I don't know if the collars are going to work, Kitty, but I am hoping. Yes it is weird touching again. Don't worry- you can talk about it. I won't bite your head off."
A smile, real this time, came across her face. "I hope it works too." I quickly stood up after she said that. She looked like she was about to hug me or something. Instead I went over to Kurt and grazed my hand over his head. If I didn't know any better I would have thought I accidentally petted the carpet. Holy god- the kid was fuzzy. Really really fuzzy. I couldn't resist- I rubbed his head quickly, making all his fur stand up. He laughed and Kitty reached over to touch the spiked fur.
"Ouch" she cried, pulling her hand back. Bad static electricity, bad!
Just then Scott and Jean entered the room. They spotted me in the collar immediately and came over. Before they reached the couch I quickly rubbed Kurt's fur again, ignoring his strange look.
"I see you are wearing the collar, Rogue," Jean said.
I see why you got into top schools, Jean.
"Yep." I replied, "I'm getting used to it." I held out my hand to shake hers. She jumped back as soon as she grabbed it. Good static electricity, good! (I could see Kurt laughing out of the corner of my eye).
"Sorry Jean," I said with an apologetic look on my face (all I needed was a halo), "I was rubbing Kurt's fur."
Wow, incestuous porno lines. I'm on a role.
She nodded in understanding. And looked at Scott. Scott looked down at me and started, "I think it is great that you are trying to do this. Even when it is slightly dangerous. I know Jean and I are really proud to see you putting your all…"
Ooo, look- shiny things. Even cooler, the shiny things are making light patterns on the wall. Look how they dance. Dance, dance, dance. Dancy, dancy, dancy. Lancy, lancy, lancy. Mancy, man-
Suddenly there was silence. Jean and Scott were staring at me expectantly. I figured they had asked me a question.
"Sure" I said, hoping that it would fit.
"What?" Scott asked in confusion. "I asked how long you had to wear the collar tonight."
Damn. "Oh sorry, I thought you asked if I had to wear the collar tonight. My mistake." I said, "Oh…um…five hours."
"Ah" Jean said with a nod, "Yeah that seems reasonable. I mean-"
You know? I think the lights look like an airplane. Well if I squint it is more like a whale.
"Rogue!" Jean uttered sharply, "Are you listening?"
Of course Jean darling, why would I ever not want to listen to you?
"Uh huh." I replied, "Will you excuse me? I have to got to the bathroom. Thanks." I quickly made my exit.
Luckily by the time I got out Jean and Scott had left. So had Kitty. Since Kurt was left alone on the couch, he informed me that Jean and Scott had gone to talk to the professor and Kitty had gone to go make dinner.
It took me a full second to realize the horror of that sentence.
"Kitty is making dinner!" I shouted.
"Ja- don't worry Rogue," Kurt said. "Remy is helping her."
I sighed in relief. That was a very scary moment. I almost didn't notice that now even Kurt was calling Gambit "Remy". Maybe I should get on the boat too, eh?
I settled down into idle chitchat with Kurt until we were called for dinner. Barbeque chicken wings, corn on the cob, and such littered the table.
"Hey Rogue," Kitty called when we all finally sat down, "try some of this bread that I made."
"Uhh.." my mind raced for an excuse when I saw out of the corner of my mind that Gambit was holding his thumb up. "I'd love to Kitty." I said with a smile. Is it wrong to trust the kid I've known for about a week over my former roommate? When it comes to Kitty in the kitchen- absolutely not.
"Very good dinner," Storm complimented as we finished up.
"Thanks, Ms. Monroe." Kitty said, "Remy did most of it. He picked out the food and showed me how to make it and everything."
Kudos for Storm for acting like this surprised her.
It was only after I went to my room after dinner (I needed a socializing break, collar or no) that I realized that the food at dinner had all been finger foods. That is- food that is best eaten with your hands. Drum sticks, corn, bread, little cherry tomatoes etc. I noticed these things because I usually avoided eating them. Eating drumsticks with a knife and fork can drive you up the wall, while trying to get barbeque sauce out of a glove is impossible. Ten washings later and you can still smell the spices. It was the same with corn and everything. It was just easier not to bother. But tonight I had the collar and didn't have to wear gloves at dinner. And Remy had chosen the food.
Yep. He wasn't that bad.
I have charmed my boyfriend with my exciting tales of fan fiction. In fact I have made him quite interested in x-men. Jokingly he typed "good night cherè," the other day. I told him that he couldn't say that unless he suddenly became, tall, Cajun, and really hot.
I think he took offense to that.
Story note:
Yes Rogue and Remy are friends. Just friends. Keep in mind that Remy is 6 years older than Rogue in this story. I did that for a reason. (A reviewer once mentioned that he seemed too old).
I should have chap 8 up this weekend if all goes well.
Ciao