OCTOBER 2014: Updated and minor changes applied!
Chapter 9 – Second Impressions
The day began with an onslaught of sunlight, swiftly followed by a headache most foul. Disorientated, Marie laid there blinking for a minute or two before her eyes finally adjusted to the morning light. With her gaze narrowed and a slight grimace across her face, she managed to pull herself to a seated position and from there let her gaze sweep over the unfamiliar surroundings. Starting as blurred shapes, it took a moment or two for her gaze to sharpen only to find herself encased in a grand master bedroom bathed in sunlight and warm white walls. Her narrowed gaze turned to a bemused frown. "Where the hell am ah?" Unable to move for the moment, Marie took the time to study the room with growing suspicion. She definitely hadn't been captured as the word itself entitled a description of darkness, barred windows and other cold hospitalities; all of which this room did not instigate in the least. The paranoid Acolyte in her told her to be wary of the warm, welcoming surroundings but her gut-instincts ignored the tug of paranoia. The room was like something out of the 18th Century with all its elegant furnishings; the four-poster bed, the small sofa seat near the windows. However that only caused Marie's confusion and concerns to heighten.
"What happened last naght? How the hell did ah get here?"
Her circumstances didn't improve when she finally took note of what she was clothed in...There wasn't much to call clothing except a man's dress shirt and her underwear.
Even with her little experience with men, she knew waking up to find your memory obscured and your body clad in nothing but a man's shirt wasn't a good start to a hangover. With a slight edge of panic, Marie tried to recall something about the night before but all she could recall were blurred shadows and a pair of red, glowing lights. The memory caused her to frown. Lights? Marie rubbed her eyes, ridding them of sleep as she tried to shake off the pounding in her head. A frustrated sigh escaped her as she sat for a moment with her eyes closed and her hands spread across her temple. Finally, she decided she would worry about the night's escapades after she figured out where she was and who had brought her here.
Her headache practically blared in her ears but she managed to pull herself to her feet and out of the comfort of the tall bed. Smoothing the long white shirt over her bared legs, thankful for it being too big for her, she proceeded to look around in search of her clothes. Though not particularly surprised, she was still annoyed when she found that none of her clothes were present. "Then who the hell undressed meh last night?" With a tad more confusion and agitation added to her concoction of emotions, Marie made her way to the bedroom's double doors. The slender Art Nouveau-style handle turned and clicked as she carefully eased the door open and stuck her head out into what appeared to be a hallway.
An undeniable, awed look spread across her features.
"Money ain't no object for whoever lives here."
She deduced from the furnishings that she was definitely in some kind of Upper-class hotel in New Paris as Old Paris wasn't, or more, couldn't be endorsed with such luxurious living. The honey-coloured polished wooden floorboards ran down a long corridor adorned with lush looking furnishings here and there and several closed doors. Marie cautiously wandered down the corridor, her feet moving in soundless steps, until she came to a pair of open double-doors at the end. Beyond the doors, she found a grand looking living-room joined to an equally spacious kitchen.
Her brow furrowed in confusion. Had she fallen into 18th Century Paris or something?
She figured her answer was no when she took note of the modern kitchen appliances. She was certain they didn't have running water taps in the 18th Century.
Or waffle makers.
The lingering smell of fresh waffles was torturous as it was sweet but wasn't kept in mind for long. She had moved a few steps passed the living room threshold when a pleasant, masculine voice spoke up from behind her. The familiarity of the voice caused her eyes to widen.
"Bon Matin ma chére." (Good Morning my dear)
A startled sound escaped her mouth as she turned on the spot only to find that the familiar voice had a familiar face. Smirking, the young man proceeded to fold up his newspaper and rose from his place on the sofa seat nearest to her. Her brow furrowed in confusion while her eyes remained wide with startled surprise.
"You-?!"
The Cajun dared to broaden his smirk to a full-blown smile that met his eyes. His eyes. She had never seen him without the sunglasses until now. However immediately the one thing that caught her attention was the colour of his eyes; brown. For some reason, she was instantly bothered by the colour. They looked...unnatural, like they should have been a different colour. She didn't have long to ponder over the why she thought that as she was suddenly hit with a jolt of recognition. She vaguely recalled her first near-encounter with the Apoc soldiers and the charming, egotistical Cajun that made it a near-encounter. Her eyes widened in alarm as another theory shook her thoughts.
She had woken up in a stranger's bed, dressed in nothing but a man's shirt and her underwear...
"Did y' sleep well?"
Marie gulped silently. Oh god did she hope that was all she had done. She fell out of her thoughts upon realising that the Cajun charmer from the night before was standing before her with about two feet of space between them. Those brown, indistinctive eyes became rimmed with concern when she didn't answer straight away, or refrain from her bemused expression.
"Are y' alright chére?"
She managed to silently gulp a breath of air before answering in what she hoped wasn't a shaky voice.
"What exactly... happened last naght?"
It was his turn to be bemused; a concerned frown marred his handsome features.
"Y' don't remember?"
Marie swallowed silently. "Oh gawd. Please don't tell meh ah-" She barely had the thought worded in her mind when his expression turned from bemused to a mix of alarm and, dare she believe it, distress. That unabashed and impossibly handsome smirk that had played across his lips faltered as he began to quickly assure her that nothing of THAT sort had occurred. Her cheeks burned darker shade of pink; she was certain of it as she anxiously crossed her arms and tried not to look too relieved.
"Chére, believe moi. If we had done somet'ing- amnesic or not, y' would remember it. Gambit guarantees it."
While Marie was proud that she managed an indifferently raised brow and not another shade of pink, the snake of a charmer before her still had the gall to smirk at her expense. She wanted to hit him; hard and preferably where that infuriating, charming smirk was placed. Instead, all she got was more pain to add to her already blaring head. She suddenly lost her hold on pride and reached a hand to her temple and groaned slightly in pain. Somehow, she figured this wasn't the normal kind of hangover she was used to. She was brought out of her mental grumblings when she felt a pair of warm, large hands rest on her shoulders and redirected her gaze to his. She noticed with a slight jolt of surprise that he was bending down to her height in hopes of trying to get a look at her face.
"Chére y' bes' sit down non? Y' took a nasty blow last night-"
Though his words brewed confusion and questions, she said nothing as he got her to sit down on the couch he had occupied beforehand. From what she saw of the rug and bed pillow beside her, it appeared he had occupied it all night. So they had definitely not done anything she was bound to regret. However, considering how strong her headache was at the moment, she wasn't totally free of regrets. While she did her best to bury her head in her own hands, it wasn't long before she felt Gambit's warm fingertips wrap around her hands and gently pry them back. She caught his gaze as he replaced his fingertips on the sides of her forehead and began to draw soothing circles. Though gentle, he kept the pressure firm as he knelt before her with her locked in his gaze. Marie was amazed to find that not only did his ministrations help, she barely felt anything except the flush of her cheeks and the soothing feeling his fingertips invoked. Her headache was gone completely by the time he removed his hands. He continued to kneel in front of her as he spoke gently, the smooth charmer was still there but there was a kind of tenderness across his face that took centre stage for the moment.
"Feel better chére?"
Marie managed a feeble nod. As her emotions remained scrambled and warm with a strange sort of ease, she managed to speak gently. Her brow furrowed with confusion.
"How'd ya do that?"
The Cajun smirked and uttered a husky chuckle, the glint of charm returned to his eyes.
"It be an old medicine secret he was taught once, mais y' should take some painkillers nonetheless. Un instant s'il vous plait." (Just a moment please)
And before she could assure that she was perfectly fine now, he left her side only to return from the kitchen with a glass of water and painkillers in hand. She took them as offered, and drained the glass dry before speaking again. Her brow remained knitted with confusion as she spoke up softly, her voice strained from disuse.
"Ah don't really remember what happened after...after the club."
His expression, which had been so full of a charm and warmth suddenly became sullen; full of grim knowledge she was obviously not privy to if her assumptions were correct.
"Y' really don't remember what happened last night chére?"
She shook her head.
"Everything's a bit fuzzy after we uh- parted."
Marie watched as Gambit's facial expression became more woeful. Heaving a deep breath, he ran a hand through his fringe to the back of his neck. He came to stand before her, shame practically wrote itself across his face as he avoided her gaze for a short while. When he did catch her gaze again, he offered a grave reply.
"Y' were cornered by a troop o' Apoc soldiers chére. Gambit is ashamed t' say his timing could've been better. Would've saved y' dat monstrueux headache et a few bruises."
At her confused expression, he sat down beside her and continued, this time with his eyes set directly on hers as he spoke gravely.
"Dey had y' half-unconscious by de time Gambit caught up wit' y' chére. T'ough Gambit be relieved dat he got t' y' b'fore dey could do anyt'ing...Je suis desole ma chére. J'aurais appris à vous tôt." (I am sorry my dear. I should have got to you sooner)
In that moment she found it very hard to put this chivalrous, sincere man into the same context as the arrogant, smart-assed bastard she had deemed him the night before. His first impressions lay forgotten as she witnessed the genuine regret and shame kindled in those chocolate brown eyes. The way he spoke made it sound like it had been entirely his fault and not the brigand that had the sick audaciousness to...
It all came rushing back to her; being circled by those soldiers, getting knocked out by that electrical surge and her almost-rape at the hands of that foul-mouthed soldier. She gulped silently as a sickened shudder coursed down her skin, the tainted breath and feel of the man who had nearly succeeded in having his way with her was suddenly refreshed in her thoughts. She was beginning to feel nauseous when she suddenly felt that familiar warmth that came with the touch of Gambit's fingertips over her hand. She had not noticed her tight hold on the edge of the sofa seat until then. She gave a weak, grateful smile before clearing her throat before speaking. The nausea she had felt at the memory was washed out by the feeling of reassurance...that strangely came with his touch.
"How- how did ya fahnd meh?"
He looked away and withdrew his hand, breaking the trance of his touch as he replied quietly, reverting to first person.
"I heard y' scream."
Marie directed her gaze to the empty glass clamped between her fingers; her fingertips were white she was clutching the glass so tightly. It was a few silent moments before she replied softly, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in habit as she did so.
"What happened after ya found meh? Did you-?"
Though it was obvious he was still quite ashamed of himself, he explained coolly that he more or less knocked their lights out (there was a glimmer of morbid amusement in his eyes at those words) and since he had no idea where she lived, brought her back here to his apartment. On his last note, Marie subconsciously tugged the hem of the large shirt she wore a little further down her half-exposed thighs. A fresh coat of pink coloured her cheeks as he caught her eye and smirked ever so slightly.
"Y' clothes were in a bad state when Gambit brought y' here, et Gambit would say he didn't look..."
She was prompted to arch a brow at him with an irritated look. His grin broadened as continued.
"Mais it be a little difficult t' dress a woman when she's unconscious."
Whether it was because he admitted this without so much as a hint of shame in his voice or the fact her state of dress was noticeable to him, she wasn't sure, but it certainly made her want to hit him. Again. It was astounding to her how he could change his intentions so swiftly or maybe not his intentions but his emotions. One minute he was sensitive and almost gallant in his intentions, next he was the suave charmer trying to make her smile. But considering he'd been nothing but helpful and more or less pleasant (sans their first introduction) she decided to ease her balled fist and mutter 'Fair enough.' While she resisted the urge to blush harder (or punch that smirk off his face), the Cajun began a new subject with a light enthusiasm that sent her reeling yet again.
"Now seein' as y' can't really go out in jus' mon shirt- as trés belle as y' look in it, et y' clothes won't be ready f' a petite while longer, y' should 'ave somet'ing t' eat. Gambit don't mean t' brag mais he does make trés bonne waffles. Are y' hungry chére? It's almost noon so Gambit would not be surprised-"
He hardly gave her the chance to refuse let alone refuse politely as he ushered her towards the kitchen bench while he began to cook up a storm of waffles and coffee. When she offered the excuse that she didn't want to be more trouble, he gave her a winning smirk and insisted she needed some food in her belly to go along with those painkillers and that it simply wasn't any trouble at all. From the way he artfully broke egg shells without fault and whisked the waffle mixture he had made from scratch as he spoke, Marie was completely reassured that him cooking her breakfast wasn't any trouble in the least. It was obvious that he enjoyed it simply for the fun of it but there was no doubt in her mind that he had won the heart of many a woman over breakfast as well. That being said, she wondered if they really called him Gambit. It was undoubtedly an alias. It wasn't uncommon for people to go about with different names to protect themselves…
"What would y' like on y' waffle chére?"
She broke from her thoughts only to find Gambit holding up a bowl of cream in one hand and a jar of maple syrup in the other. Marie offered a small smile and replied 'both,' all the while deciding that it would be better not to ask him about his name. Men of this day and age were known to wear many masks to protect themselves just as she was to use the name Rogue when out of the protective walls of Avalon. A man who saves damsels in distress and cooks said damsel fresh hot waffles as an act of chivalry could be a man of many faces if not already so, and was he ever. She was still reeling from a few character swaps he had already made. He must have read her thoughts or read her face for expressions, for his next question was.
"Y' look amused chére. Is dere somet'ing on Gambit's face?"
Marie shrugged as she leant her crossed arms over the bench top.
"Impressed more lahke. Ya pick up girls with 'bourbon-and-a-cosmo' lines, ya chase Apoc soldiers down for things anyone else would turn a blind eye to and ya cook? Ah can hardly imagine what ya actually do for a livin'."
To her surprise, Gambit unleashed a hearty laugh that for some reason aroused the same feeling his remedy-touch had not a half hour ago. His face came alive in laughter and she found it suited him just as well as a charming smirk or a shameless prying eye. His laughter was warm and sincerely amused, and for some reason Marie couldn't tear her eyes or ears away from such a scene. It was bad enough he was handsome, but his husky laugh was practically dipped in honey and cream. When his laughter subsided, he pushed her full plate in front of her and reached for a fork and knife. He sighed but it was wounded lightly by a slight wince that was teasing if not a mockery.
"Kind of hoped y' wouldn't remember de bourbon et cosmo t'ing. Mais ma chérie mus' be feeling better if she remembers dat far back into de night, non?"
Marie couldn't help but smile slightly as she took the knife and fork he offered. She replied with a hint of sarcasm in her good humour. She ignored the fact that he kept calling her 'dear' in favour of a good come-back.
"That happened t' beh a terrible- no, probably the worst pick up line ah have ever heard."
He nodded lightly in agreement, or more, half-agreement.
"Mais it did get y' t' stop et talk t' moi for a moment non?"
After a moment of surprise, she raised a sly brow as she stopped cutting into her waffle and looked up at him from her plate. A devious tone coated her words as she replied casually.
"Do ya mean before or after ah dunked those cosmopolitans on ya an' ya woman of the hour?"
That rich, masculine chuckle erupted from those perfect lips only to settle back into a perfect, matching grin as they fell into a comfortable silence. While he wiped up the mess of cooking utensils on the bench, she managed to take the first bite of her waffle only to pause suddenly and widen her eyes as the flavours were savoured in her mouth. She caught his broadened smirk as he leant against the bench and spoke.
"Gambit take it from dem wide, belle eyes o' yours dat it tastes good, non?"
It was a little overly dramatic to think it, but honestly it was like tasting waffles for the first time and falling for their sugary ploy. Marie swallowed before she replied, licking a dash of cream off her bottom lip.
"That would be an understatement."
His smile brightened. As she took another bite, he replied genuinely.
"Gambit is very pleased t' hear dat chérie. He'd be offended if y' said it was jus' good."
Marie's laugh was stifled by the piece of waffle still in her mouth. She managed to swallow before she spoke up again.
"So much for not meaning to brag. Now why do ya keep callin' meh that? Ah have a name ya know if ya'd care t' ask."
Gambit made a mockery of shock but it was deflated by the knowing glint in his unnaturally brown eyes.
"Je suis desole ma chére, what would y' name be?"
Marie tilted her head to one side ever so slightly to match the tilt of his own as he leant forward in dare. After a moment's hold, she replied simply.
"Rogue."
He extended a polite hand for hers and she, expecting him to shake it, allowed her right hand to become enveloped by his. To her surprise, he no sooner took it then raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss over her exposed knuckles, all the while with her gaze locked by his. A shiver ran through her at his touch but she did not turn away or pull out of his hold. When he withdrew his lips, he continued to hold her hand as he spoke.
"It's a pleasure t' meet y' chére."
She returned to the land of the living with the roll of her own eyes. But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu hit her.
"Do ya call all girls that or am ah jus' lucky?"
He revealed nothing behind that charming smile.
"Non. Jus' y'."
She raised a sceptical brow.
"Do ya tell all girls that too?"
For the first time, his brow furrowed with bemusement.
"Do y' always react dis way t' compliments chére?"
Marie closed her eyes a moment and shook her head, more to shake the cynicism from her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking rather bemused still but with a tell-tale grin across his face that told her he was more amused than anything. She gave a small sigh of defeat and rest a hand under her chin as she spoke.
"Look, ah'm sorry- ah'm just...not used t' compliments t' beh honest."
It was more or less true in the context of her and any man who had any interest in her. She would hardly give them the light of day let alone accept a compliment when given but for some reason, with this obvious womanizer no less, she was sincerely sorry for being so outwardly cynical to compliments. She rationalized it was because she was already indebted to him for saving her.
"What else could it possibly be because?"
She was brought out of her thoughts when Remy gave a small snort of amused disbelief and muttered more to himself than her.
"Vous êtes une femme très intrigante Rogue." (You are a very intriguing woman Rogue)
Marie blushed for possibly the millionth time that hour but this time, she actually felt flattered rather than embarrassed. Still, the cynic in her could not surpass the chance to deflate a compliment. She gave a genuinely amused chuckle as she licked the last of the syrup on her fingers off her index. Knowing what such a gesture could entice from a man, she wasn't surprised by the slight falter of his smile as he watched her.
"Ya certainly favour a lot of cheesy pick-up lines."
A look of slight surprised appeared across his face before he replied in a gentle, husky tone that sent new tremors down her spine.
"Says de woman who isn't used to being admired?"
It was Marie's turn to smile as she finished the last of her waffle and pushed her plate forward for him to take. They shared a smile for a moment before Gambit turned towards the sink across the kitchen and dumped their used plates. He asked if she wanted a drink, and teasingly stated that he did not have the ingredients for margaritas so not to get any big ideas. Marie could not help but laugh.
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More updates to come! REVIEW!
-Gams