CHAPTER TEN! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ALREADY HERE! AND I HAVE ALMOST FIFTY REVIEWS! AWESOMENESS!
BlueFox, I have read the original fairy tale but I don't plan on being that cruel to Belladonna. Ace of Cyberspace, once again, thank you. Indy, you caught me. I'm a Tangled fanatic (partly because Flynn Rider reminds me of the Disney version of Gambit. Think 'bout it). aecul and Wisteria, thank y'all for being fabulous in general. All of the reviews keep me going. You're all just so dang awesome. Which is why I proudly present...
Chapter Ten: But Then The Clock Struck Midnight
Rogue and Remy both looked up at the clock. Rogue looked worried but Remy looked completely at ease.
"Heh. It's midnight," Remy said, still holdin' onto Rogue's hand.
The clock struck again and Rogue jumped up to her feet. "I gotta get outta here."
Remy didn' believe her at all so he jus' threw his head back and laughed. "That's funny."
"I'm serious. I gotta go, Remy."
That wiped the smile right offa his face real quick. Remy stood up to, his hold on Rogue's fingers gettin' tighter. "You can't go."
"I have to."
She tried to run away but he didn' let go of her hand. She couldn' go jus' yet. He still hadn' proposed or planned the weddin' or—more importantly—the honeymoon. He had so much he wanted to say to her but now all the sudden Rogue wanted to run away. She can't go.
"You can't go," Remy told her.
"Please, just let me go."
"But..but..but…."
Stop laughin'. He ain't talkin' 'bout that kinda butt. 'Sides. You shouldn' laugh at poor Prince Remy. He had silver tongue all his life and now all the sudden he couldn' find words when he really needed them the most. So I don' care how many times I "but" you keep your little tushies shut and feel sympathy for the drop dead gorgeous prince.
No, silver tongue don' mean that they gotta tongue made outta silver. No, that wouldn' be "cool". It'd probably make eatin' real hard and I bet it ain't to comfortable neither. Why, I bet if a person who had a silver tongue probably don' got any teeth 'cause they knocked them all out wit' their impractical tongue. What's that?
Impractical means it don' make much sense. Like Belladonna. She's impractical.
…among other things. But mostly impractical.
"I gotta go."
She turned 'round to leave but she was only able to take a couple of steps 'fore she had to stop. Remy wouldn' let go of her hand and she couldn' get away from him. He kept askin' her to stay but she kept tellin' him she had to go and kept on tryin' to take her hand back.
"I've gotta go, Remy."
Wit' dat, she pulled her arm one good time. But she pulled and the prince didn' let go. When she got her hand free, he was still holdin' jus' one of her pretty white gloves. She wanted to get it back but she didn' have time. So she jus' ran as fast as her feet would carry her away outta the garden and back to where Kurt was waitin'.
Remy tried to chase her but tried to follow her but there were too many people and she got lost in the crowds. All he had left was her white glove. He realized that in the whole "I'm in love wit' her process", he never even got her name.
It wasn' very bright of him, now was it? Non, it wasn'.
Rogue was halfway out the door someone grabbed her by the arm—the gloved one—and spun her 'round. Belladonna was standin' there, lookin' murderously angry.
"Get out my way," Rogue hissed, aware of the time.
"We gotta talk."
"Move."
"You keep your hands off of Remy—"
"Get out of my way."
"—else you gonna havta deal wit' me."
"Move, chienne, get out the way."
"I ain't done wit' you—"
"Get out the way, chienne!" Rogue won' gonna say nothin' again. So she pulled her gloved fist way back and punched Belladonna square in the nose. "Move."
When she punched her, Bella's face made a satisfyin'…I mean unpleasant crackin' noise. The blonde screeched like a crazy animal, holdin' her face. Some blood ran out 'tween her fingers and down her face and onto her dress.
"Ah hink you bwoke mey noose you witch!" Belladonna yelled, only some of her words were all funny soundin' 'cause she couldn' talk right 'cause of her nose. Not all the words sounded like they s'posed to. Do you get Remy's drift? You don'?
That's probably for the best anyway.
But Roguearella? She didn' have time to worry 'bout the bleedin' blonde in front of her. She jus' kept on walkin, her fist hurtin' from the hard punch she gave Bella.
Violence is bad, kiddos. You should only do it when it's necessary. But it never should be necessary. But sometimes it is. So make it your last resort. But don' let no one pick and beat up on you, either. Stand up for yourself. Don' take anyone else's…crap. But don' be violent. Unless you have to. Which you shouldn'.
But you might.
Don' ask too many questions, a happy endin' is waitin' for you, don' ever stop tryin', no one has it perfect, don' run away from your responsibilities, learn French, don' hit a man in that one spot, don' always trust a pretty face, don' let the ones who hurt you have the satisfaction of seein' you upset, don' let your anger consume you, everythin' is better wit' Cheyenne pepper, violence is not the answer but sometimes it's the only solution, and somethin' about rats and birds.
So don' hit people. Unless you gotta hit them it's okay. But even then you shouldn' do it.
Do you understand what Remy means?
You don'? That's okay. It'll make sense one day. Jus' like all that other stuff I told you.
Dang it!
Hey, I didn' swear in front of you this time. Remy did good. 'Cept now I don' 'member what I was gonna say…Dammit.
Dammit! I mean, dang it! I'm swearin' again. Don' swear kids. Remy is a bad guy. Don' listen to him.
'Cept for all that other stuff I said. And the list. But other than that, don' listen to me. Oh, but listen to me finish my story. You should listen to that, too.
Rogue ran away from the bleedin' Bella and to the doors. But on her way out, a flash of red and pink caught her eye. Even though she could feel the testosterone magic wearin' off—literally this time—she stopped. And her mouth dropped open.
"Jean?" she said, shocked. Cause her sister was hidin' in a corner of the hall kissin' the messenger boy Scott from before. She couldn' believe what she saw because Jean's hand was on his…well, Scott he…uh…
They were kissin'. End of story.
Jean turned her head and looked at her sister who was missin' one glove and had a pretty dress that seemed to be dissolvin' 'fore her very eyes. They both jus' stared at each other for a minute.
"What are you doing here?" Jean asked, but not in a mean way. More of n a surprised way.
"What are you doin'?" Rogue asked her right back.
'Fore Jeannie could answer, the clock chimed again. Rogue's fancy shoes disappeared and were replaced wit' the raggedy flats she wore at home. She didn' wait for Jean's answer, she jus' ran away. Jean called after her as Rogue ran away, but Rogue didn' turn 'round. She ran back to where Kurt was waitin' for her. She threw herself in his arms.
"Take us home!" she hollered.
One thing good 'bout Kurt was that he didn' need to be told twice. He jus' ported them away from the French Quarter. Rogue closed her eyes to blink. When she opened them back up, she was standin' in her room again. As the clock continued to chime, she got to watch her dress slowly dissolve into a pink haze and become the old tattered one that Mystique had ruined.
She looked at where Kurt was standin' but all she saw was a mouse runnin' by her feet and under her bed real quick.
And jus' like that kiddies, her magical night was over. And all she had left was a mouse under her bed, one glove, and an ol' Queen of Hearts card. She sighed, feelin' real sad all the sudden.
What did you say Amy? Oh, yeah! Kill rats and throw rocks at birds! That's what that item on the list was! Thank you, chere. I really appreciate you remindin' me. But, for the record, the mouse version of Kurt is the exception to that rule, kay?
Don' ask too many questions, a happy endin' is waitin' for you, don' ever stop tryin', no one has it perfect, don' run away from your responsibilities, learn French, don' hit a man in that one spot, don' always trust a pretty face, don' let the ones who hurt you have the satisfaction of seein' you upset, don' let your anger consume you, everythin' is better wit' Cheyenne pepper, violence is not the answer but sometimes it's the only solution, and kill rats and birds 'cept for blue fuzzy ones named Kurt.
But where was Remy? Oh. Back the Quarter.
At the Quarter, Prince Remy had found Belladonna on the floor, bleedin' and swearin' to the point where she could put any ol' Frenchman to shame. He helped her up 'cause he was a prince and that was the polite thing to do. But mostly 'cause he didn' like her gettin' blood all over his floors. He tried not to laugh at her face as he was takin' her to the nurse.
He was right when he thought that Rogue could handle herself jus' fine.
After he got rid of Belladonna, he went back out the garden to think a little bit. He pulled out Rogue's white glove from his pocket. She was gone and he didn' have her name. But he had her glove. That was all he needed.
Cause Remy LeBeau was gonna find that girl and he was gonna marry her.
What, Scott? Geez, you gotta be kiddin' me, boy.
Yes, the glove is my version of the glass slipper. Am I gonna have to add somethin' to the list 'bout not askin' stupid questions?
Wow. The story is getting close to being over.
Did anyone catch the song lyrics in this chapter...*snicker* Don't have much to say besides the usual praise for your ideas and reviews. I'm thinking about, after the story is over, adding an "alternate ending" chapter where I incorporate one or two of my favorites. But no promises. I'm also surprised no one has asked what I was so pleased about a few chapters ago when I mentioned Monopoly. Oh well. You'll figure it out soon enough. And I'm going to enjoy that part *snicker*
Heh. Guess I did have a lot to say after all.
NEXT CHAPTER: Remy searches for Rogue, Mystique acts like "that word" and, once again, we add more stuff to our growling list. Unitl then, goodnight everyone!
-M.A.