Well, hello there. Late night update. Or at least it is for me. Almost four in the morning.
Thanks to everyone who got the black-skin-white-hair joke. I so love inserting those in there.
BlueFox: I do believe this chapter will earn back some of your trust.
Fire Makes Me Smile: I am back! And I'll try to not make the gap between chapters as large. And I will get around to fixing those mistakes. Thanks bunches.
And onward to chapter ten!
XXXXX
"Mind if I join you?"
Rogue looked up, more than surprised to find Emma Frost standing over her. She was even more surprised to see the blonde wearing a white mini skirt. Rogue understood that Emma liked wearing revealing clothes. But seriously?
There was a chance it was going to snow tonight.
Despite Emma's poor choice in clothing, Rogue saw no reason to not allow her fellow teammate to join her. She was seated in the rec room, along with almost every other member of the X-Men. All of them were engaged in various activities. Rogue had been sitting alone at a table with the only vacant seats left. And since she and Emma had formed a very tentative pseudo-ish friendship since Emma proved she wasn't a completely cold hearted wench, Rogue nodded and gestured for her to take the seat across from her.
Emma sat and then looked at the activity Rogue had been engaged before she arrived. A game of solitaire. "Picking up Mr. LeBeau's habits?"
"It's hard not to."
"Where is Remy anyway?"
Rogue shrugged. "Probably robbin' someone blind."
"I thought he was turning over a new leaf? Leading an honest life? 'Makin' t'ings go boom for the betterment of society?'"
Rogue snorted. "And you believed him?"
"Oh. Right." Emma laughed at herself. "Silly me."
"And while he may not necessarily be up to any thievery, it's probably no good. I haven't seen him since he left this mornin'?"
"And when, exactly, was that?" Emma asked with a knowing smile. Rogue scoffed and turned back to her game.
"Shut up, Frost."
"Trouble in paradise?"
"Shut up, Emma."
"I suppose that's a yes?"
"That's a none of your damn business."
"Oh. It is a yes."
"And what about you?" Rogue demanded, slamming a card down. "How's your love life goin'?"
Emma sighed wistfully, casting her gaze across the room. Scott was there, engaging in a game of pool with some of the other boys. Emma watched him for a very long time. Rogue watched for just as long a time, but only because she remembered what she had done on that pool table just a couple of weeks ago.
She really hoped Emma couldn't hear her thoughts.
"Don't worry," the blonde said, turning back to Rogue. "I can only get a vague idea of what you're thinking. Which I am thankful for. I don't think I want to know the full extent of your thoughts."
"You don't."
"And in regards to the state of my love life, it is nonexistent. You know Scott. So noble. We have formed a very careful friendship but nothing more. Meanwhile, he and Jean are able to speak without her attempting to claw his eyes out."
"Progress, I guess."
Emma shrugged noncommittally. "What about you and Remy?"
Before Rogue could not answer the question, the sound she came to associate with Remy speeding into the gates of the mansion thundered through the room. "Speak of the devil and he will come."
Emma did not respond. She had a somewhat far off look in her ice blue eyes. She tilted her head to the side inquisitively, her brow puckering.
"Emma?"
"Shh…I'm finding out where Remy was."
"You're readin' his mind? Isn't that kinda…intrusive?"
"This is me we're talking about. Besides. It's not so much I'm reading it. He's all but screaming his thoughts excitedly."
Rogue sat up straighter. "He's excited?"
"Shhhh!"
Rogue watched Emma, who sat motionless, silently. There was a significant gap before she spoke again. When she did, Emma nodded with understanding.
"Oh. I see."
"See? See what? What do you see?"
"Oh." Emma pressed a hand to where her heart was rumored to be. "How sweet."
"Sweet? What's sweet? Did he buy more chocolate? We still have two bottles of chocolate syrup left. What's sweet?"
Emma frowned deeply at Rogue. "That was far more information than I ever needed to know. Are you aware of the fact that Remy had intentions of buying you a gift?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well then. He bought it."
"He did?"
"That is where he went this morning."
Before Emma had a chance to further interpret Remy's thoughts, Rogue had thrown herself across the table and was holding her by the collar of her shirt. Surprised blue eyes met wild green ones. Rogue not-so-gently shook Emma.
"TELL ME!"
"…excuse me?"
"Tell me! What did he get me? What, what, what, what!"
Emma stared at her for a beat. She then coolly brushed Rogue's hands away. "Darling, do not take this the wrong way but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't muse this blouse. I do not think you could afford to purchase me another one. As for what Remy got you, I do believe that he wants it to be a surprise. I would so hate to ruin his surprise."
"Emma!"
"He's looking for you right now."
As if on cue, Remy LeBeau, clad in his faithful duster, entered the room. He was obviously in search of Rogue, his dark eyes scanning the room for her. Rogue half considered slinking out before he could find her and hiding.
Emma, apparently, had other ideas.
'Remy! Reeeeeeeemmmmy, darling! We're over here!" she yelled, waving him over. Remy broke out in a broad grin, coming toward them. Emma turned back to Rogue, smiling her dazzling smile. She chose to ignore Rogue's glare. "I'm not going to tell you what he got you but I will say that it is something that will prove his commitment to you."
Emma then flitted away just in time for Remy to occupy her now vacant seat.
"Roguey!" he said, smiling that blindingly happy smile.
"Oh. Hey, Rems. Where have you been all day?"
"Out."
"Doin' what?"
He grinned. "Stuff."
"What kinda stuff?"
"Boyfriend stuff."
"What kinda boyfriend stuff?"
"I was gettin' your present."
She hadn't expected him to reveal it so easily. "…you were?"
"Oui. And lemme tell ya, Roguey: it's perfect."
"It is?"
"Oui." He looked down at her game of solitaire, distracted. He moved a few card around, progressing the game. Moves Rogue hadn't even noticed. He was entirely too good at that. "Anyway, it took me a real long time to figure this one out but when I did, everythin' worked out perfectly."
"It did?"
"Oui." He moved his hand away from her card game to take hold of her left one. He ran his thumb over her fingers. "I wanna give it to you tonight."
"Uh…I dunno if that's such a good idea."
"Why?" He didn't ask it unkindly. Or demandingly. It was just a simple question. Why?
"I gotta…I gotta help Lorna with her math homework."
Remy stared at her for too long a moment. "Roguey, did you forget that you're awful at math?" Before she could answer, Remy nodded at something across the room. "Seems to me like Lorry got 'nough help wit' her homework anyway."
Rouge looked. Sure enough, in a corner off to themselves, Lorna and Bobby were hunched over a text book, smiling secretively to themselves.
It was entirely too cute of a sight to be tolerated for more than a few seconds. But Rogue was afraid to look back at her boyfriend. But what else was she supposed to do? Just ignore him sitting there. Maybe with other people, they would take the hint and go away. But this was Remy LeBeau. The more he was ignored, the harder he tried to get attention. And that was just with any regular person. If Rogue ignored him, it was not unheard of for him to do something stupid and very noticeable to get her attention.
Like blowing the head off the Statue of Liberty.
So she looked at him. He was looking at her with eyes that were smoldering with love. So hot, it burned her to her core. Beneath the table, Rogue's toes curled.
"Rogue, I promise." He lifted her hand to his lips. "You will love it."
He kissed each knuckle on her left hand. But when his lips made contact with her ring finger, it all clicked in her head. The perfect gift. Something that would show his true commitment. The way he was staring at her hand so much.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
No. no way. Rogue was overreacting. She was making this into something it wasn't. No way.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
No. It was just her imagination. No way.
He wouldn't.
Would he?
XXXXX
Lorna Dane looked down at the substance before her with a mix of disgust and confusion. She wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to be but she was trying to decide if she was afraid of it or not. She was like, ninety-five percent sure that she was afraid of it. Across from her, Betsy poked and probed hers, her upper lip curled.
"What…the hell is it?" Betsy finally asked, poking it with her fork again.
"Language!" Logan barked from the other end of the table.
Betsy threw her fork down. "I'm over eighteen! Aren't I allowed to swear?"
"Not until everyone else at this table is eighteen too."
"Humph." Betsy pouted. "You swear all the time."
"That's different."
"Not really."
Emma snickered, making Lorna laugh too. Despite this amusing back and forth, she still had no clue what was on her plate. Two seats down, Kitty had adopted a wounded look.
"It's pizza," the prep said softly.
Almost everyone at the table had a simultaneous moment of realization.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh," they said, nodding their heads with understanding. Kitty still looked sad.
"I'm sure that it is…." The Professor cleared his throat but smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sure it is delicious, Kitty."
"Really?"
He looked down at it, cringed, caught himself, smiled, and looked back up. "Certainly. Everyone, dig in."
Everyone hesitated but, because they seemed to care about Kitty, took a bite. Lorna did too. She then fought hard at not spitting the "pizza" back up. But she didn't. Because she did like Kitty and didn't want to hurt her feelings.
This was only slightly worse than when Remy cooked dinner. When he did, he insisted on covering everything in spices that burned off Lorna's taste buds. Jean was okay, but her food was always very health conscious and kind of tasteless. If she thought about it, her favorite person to make dinner was Logan. His was always healthy but filling and delicious.
She would never forget the image of him standing over the stove with an apron on though.
Still, Lorna ate her dinner, happy to be surrounded by her new family, teammates, and classmates. Around the table, people interacted. Scott and Jean were pointedly not making eye contact. Emma was talking to Betsy about mind reading. Jubilee and Rahne were making fun of Sam and Roberto. Ororo, the Professor, and Hank seemed to be discussing something. Kurt was trying to dispose of his meal as inconspicuously as possible. Kitty and Remy laughed over something while Rogue looked anxious. Bobby was talking to Logan, who was clearly ignoring him in favor of taking a swig of his beer.
This setting somehow made Kitty's pizza and Remy's spices completely worth it.
She lifted her knife but at that exact moment, someone poked her in her side. Lorna squealed in surprise, dropping her knife in the process. Before it could hit the ground, she acted on instinct. She didn't think about it. It happened before she realized she had done it. But Lorna reached out, stopping the knife before it touched the ground.
It hovered only an inch off the ground.
She stared at it for a long time. The knife, then her outstretched hand.
Until this moment, she had been starting to believe she would never be able to use her powers again.
Concentrating, Lorna willed the knife to float higher and higher until it rested in the palm of her hand. Her fingers closed around it and the moment was over. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then she remembered that someone had been trying to get her attention. She turned to find Kurt staring at her with wide eyes.
"Uh…yeah?"
He looked at the knife then back at her. "…would you pass the salt?"
XXXXX
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Rogue knew that just because she ignored a problem did not mean it would go away.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
But she was really hoping that tonight would be the exception.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
But she doubted it. Because it wasn't just a normal problem she was dealing with.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Nothing easy like a fly buzzing through her room.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Nothing easy like Magneto.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Nothing easy like Logan barking orders at her in the Danger Room.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
No, her problem was a very persistent Remy LeBeau, tap-tap-tapping on her balcony door. If it weren't for the fact Lorna was in the bed next to her, tossing and turning and groaning as usual, he would have long ago started calling her name. Or he would have just walked in.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
She had been feigning sleep, hoping maybe he would go away. He wouldn't.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
He—
Tap! Tap! Tap!
—just—
Tap! Tap! Tap!
—kept—
Tap! Tap! Tap!
—tapping!
Groaning, Rogue pulled the covers from over her head and turned toward the balcony before he could rap on the glass again. Sure enough, Remy LeBeau stood at her balcony doors. Snow drifted slowly from the sky, gathering in his already wet russet hair. When he saw her finally acknowledging him, Remy grinned broadly and waved excitedly at her. Unable to stop herself, Rogue smiled and waved back a little.
She pushed herself out of the bed and padded over to the door. Quietly, she opened the doors and slipped outside, leaving them only partially cracked so she could get back inside. When she turned to Remy, he pulled her into his arms and planted one on her lips before she had a chance to breathe.
She briefly considered fighting him. Then coherent thought went bye-bye. So she just curled her fingers into his duster and kissed him back.
Maybe it was because he was an expert kisser. Maybe it was because she loved him. Maybe because he loved her. Maybe it was all that potential energy in him. Maybe he was just barely using his powers on Rogue in a way that wouldn't hurt her.
Either way, whenever Remy LeBeau kissed her, it was like a hot summer's night. Even now, in winter, with snow drifting around them, kissing Remy felt like she was standing outside on an August night.
When she finally managed to pry her lips from his, her worries from earlier that day flooded her mind.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
This was bad. This was so bad. She should have just left him out here. In the snow. He would have gone in eventually. He might have gotten hypothermia but he would have gone inside at some point. She shouldn't have come out here. And she definitely shouldn't have let him kiss her. She never could think straight when he kissed her. Now she was here and he was going to unveil that gift which she hoped it wasn't what she thought it was.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
The only way this could have been any worse was if he took off his shirt. If he took off her shirt, she was done for sure. Because then she would be able to look at his washboard abs. And when washboard abs were involved, she was a brainless pile of two-toned estrogen and would say yes to just about anything he asked her. And if he took off his shirt and asked her that one question she really hoped he wasn't going to ask her, then she might say yes and then it'd be a really big problem. Because eventually he would have to put his shirt back on and the washboard abs would go away and then she would be able to think straight and realize what a horrible mistake she had made.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
Rogue really hoped he didn't take off his shirt.
Remy smiled down at her, blessing her nose with a tiny kiss. "Roguey."
"…yeah?"
"Remy got a present for you."
"You do…?"
"Oui. And I think you will be pleased to know that I didn' eve steal it. I spent my own money on this." He frowned thoughtfully. "Even though where I acquired some of this money might be a slight problem…"
He trailed off thoughtfully. Rogue waited for him to continue but he went on with his contemplation as to where he got his money. Rogue didn't even want to know.
"Remy."
That was enough to snap him out of it. "Huh?"
"The gift?"
"Oh yeah. That. Rogue I…"
He stopped, his gaze drifting downward. He frowned a little more, squinting. With a slight nod, he let go of his southern paramour and knelt down in front of her, getting down on one knee.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
"Remy, no!"
He stopped half-way to the ground, staring up at her in confusion. "Huh?"
"You can't do this."
"…I can't?"
"It's not worth it."
He grinned a little. "I disagree."
"I'm not worth it, Rems," she amended, pressing her hand to her heart.
The little grin disappeared. "This ain't 'bout you, Roguey."
"Huh?"
"This got nothin' to do wit' you."
She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be relieved or insulted. She decided a combination of the two would work well enough for this particular situation.
"What the hell do you mean?"
"What the hell do I mean?" He sat back on his haunches. "What the hell do you mean? I'm jus' tryin' to tie my shoe."
"…what?"
"My boots." He gestured at the heavy black boot he wore. Sure enough, the laces on his left boot were loose and resting in the snow that was slowly building up on the balcony. "The things on my feet. To keep 'em safe and warm. These boot are really expensive—or they woulda been if I bought them—and I don' wanna get the laces all wet."
"So you aren't…your gift isn't…"
"Isn't what?"
She didn't answer, flooded with first relief. Then complete and utter humiliation.
God, she was an idiot.
Unfortunately, Remy LeBeau seemed to realize this at the exact same moment she did. Or, at least, Rogue assumed he did if the way he broke out into hysterical laughter was anything to go by. He sat down in the snow so he could laugh at her a bit more comfortably.
And he just laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.
The bastard.
"Shut up," she snapped, blushing. "It's not that funny."
To which he responded to by laughing even harder. Tears leaked out the corner of his eyes. It was at that point that Rogue decided that she was ready to crawl back into her warm bed instead of standing in the snow with her stupid Cajun boyfriend.
Remy caught her by the hand before she could go back into the room, getting back to his feet.
"Roguey, Cherie, mon Coeur, don' go. I'm sorry. Desole. I didn' mean to laugh at you."
"Yes, you did."
He considered this. "You're right. But I didn' mean to laugh that hard."
"You better get movin' with this gift business before I break my foot off in your happy ass."
"Okay, okay." He took her by the shoulders and pulled her close again. "But seriously. It's me we're talkin' 'bout. You do 'member Belladonna don' you? And my paralyzin' fear of marriage, right?"
"LeBeau…" she growled.
"Right, right. Desole."
He reached inside his trench coat, sifting around for something for a few seconds. After a brief search, he pulled out a box. Not a tiny velvet one. It was actually rather long. And narrow. With a nice, neat red bow on it. Without a word, he handed it to Rogue.
She wasn't afraid anymore, now that she knew he wasn't giving her jewelry. Or at least a certain kind of jewelry.
Now Rogue was curious. So she pulled the red bow off the box and let it fall careless to the ground. It contrasted nicely against the pure white snow.
Rogue didn't have any expectations when she pulled the lid off the long, narrow box. Still, she wasn't expecting what she was presented with. In fact, it was the last thing she would have expected to see.
A pair of gloves.
Long black gloves.
She reached out to touch them and they were of the softest material. They felt like water resting on her chilled skin. They had to have been silk. There was no way it could have been anything else. At the very top of each silk glove was a sing pearl button. And they were real pearls, Rogue knew.
Remy LeBeau didn't go cheap.
She didn't want to think about how much this could have cost him. Not like it really mattered. She just stood there, blinking down at her extravagant opera gloves. All of her other gloves were pretty cheap. Her most expensive pair cost about fifteen dollars. They got the job done and sometimes they looked nice.
But these?
These weren't for fighting crime. They were elegant and soft and beautiful. Gloves for special occasions. Gloves that were to be cherished and fawned over and taken care.
Breathlessly, Rogue looked up at Remy. He smiled at her. Smiled the "you're my emerald" smile.
"It took me awhile to figure it out," he explained. "You still wear your gloves and I couldn' figure out why. Then it clicked. You weren' ready to take them off. Not all the time anyway. Maybe you need more time. Maybe you'll always wear them. I didn' get it. I do now. Those gloves are a part of who you are.
"I wanna hold your hand wit' nothin' 'tween us. You wanna wear gloves. That works. 'Cause I'm willin' to bend to your likin' to make you happy. Whatever your likin' may be. So you can have these. And you can wear them. Or not. You don' havta wear them. But it's an option. You always gotta an option wit' me." He came a step closer. "'Cause I love you. Gloves and all."
"Ohhh…" she breathed.
Oh.
She didn't know what to say. But she could feel her heartbeat speed up and she could feel the blood pounding through her veins. She felt her ears starting to hurt from the cold. She felt a lot of things.
She also felt something inside her—deep within—starting to change. Starting to grow. Starting to really come to life. She didn't know what it was, but something told her that it was a big deal. And Remy LeBeau was to blame. She would have liked to further explore this new feeling.
But then, from within her bedroom, a scream tore through the silence of that winter night, effectively ruining and ending the moment between Remy and Rogue.
Seriously. They couldn't get one bloody moment alone without something going wrong?
XXXXX
I'm surprised no one was able to guess what Remy got Rogue. I mean, I said it was obvious. It's the title of the story after all, haha.
Oh well.
NEXT CHAPTER: Lorna reveals some secrets and Remy connects the dots.