"Road Trippin'"

Ianto

We would be driving to New Orleans; everyone said it would be a great bonding opportunity for me and Remy. That and Remy said I should see the country the only way it was meant to be seen, by way of a leisurely pace on the ground, not by air and not by a fast moving train. He said America was part of my birthright and I should experience it the best way possible. Ever since he found out he was half Welsh, he'd become more patriotic towards the States. Funny, that.

Anyway, he bought a car, a blue 1990 Mustang convertible (they were apparently out of red) for the trip. Our first stop was Philadelphia and then we would go on to Baltimore and Washington D.C. After that we would continue going south on through South Carolina and then go west into Georgia, followed by Alabama, Mississippi and finally Louisiana. It would be a long trip. We wouldn't be going to Boston, first of all and I wanted to. I fully agree with the Boston Tea Party—well, I hate tea. Damn the tea to the depths, I say! Anyway, Remy promised he'd take me to Boston some other time.

As we were sampling the famous Philly cheesesteaks, I asked him, "So, when you gonna teach me to fly a plane?"

He was silent for a moment and then he sighed and said, "Sometime after you learn to drive. You can't get a learners' permit till you're fifteen and a half and that's not till February."

"So then, you won't be letting me drive any on the way to New Orleans?"

"Not a chance. I don't wanna have to deal with cops."

"What if there's an emergency? What if you're incapacitated?"

He sighed again and added Tabasco to his sandwich, "In the unlikely event that that happens then you may drive."

While in Philly, Remy showed me the Liberty Bell. I still don't see what the big deal is.

"You really don't have to remind me that we let you win," I told him.

"What?" he sputtered "Let us win? You didn't let us win."

"Did so. We were still paying for the French and Indian War and we grew tired of the added expenses from your little tantrum." Yes, I was being a bit, well let's say silly. It's great fun.

"Tantrum? You're lying. He's lying," he told the onlookers we had acquired and then he said to me, "Remember boy, you're half American."

I stared him down, nearly equal with his height, "And you're half British."

…..

Remy

Our little debate about the Revolution continued once in Baltimore when we were looking at some other famous memorial that I don't care to remember.

"And it wasn't a revolution" Ianto said.

"What now?" I looked at him.

"King George was not overthrown. It was an insurrection. France had a revolution."

I whacked his shoulder "Shut up."

"It's true."

"I don't care. Whatever it was we won and we're a country. End of story."

"That's what we let you believe" he was smiling wickedly.

I stared at him a moment or two "Don't be a brat."

"I'd call you 'damn colonialist' but Louisiana was originally a French colony." He said as we moved away from the memorial.

"That's right."

"A French penal colony. Which explains so much."

I sighed "That's true; The Thieves' Guild has been around for more than two hundred years. Come on, we gotta get to that crab bake." I got in the car. The party we were going to was inside because it was the middle of winter.

Once he was in too he said "Any interesting stories?"

I thought for a moment searching for one I was comfortable telling him. "Today the Thieves' rivals are the Assassins. Was a time though, long time ago, before the Civil War there were the Swamp Pirates. They were the Guild's biggest rival, always competing for territory."

Ianto looked at me "What's the difference between a thief and a pirate?"

"Pirates are loud, they don't bother sneaking around and they have boats. Thieves' Guild tries not to kill, Jean-Luc's policy. Swamp pirates died out long ago but people say they still see the ship on the River and the dinghies in the swamps. So maybe they're still around or maybe they be ghosts."

"Creepy," then he switched into a Cajun accent "so, seeing how I can do dis accent so well. Let's see if you can do Welsh."

I stopped at a red light "All right, might as well." I cleared my throat, good thing I'd been spending so much time around a couple of Welshmen "How's this?" I started "I have been paying attention to the way you and Jamie speak."

He was looking at me with wide eyes "Say something else." He closed his eyes.

"Like what? Ianto, what is it?"

He took a breath "You sound just like Tad."

That was interesting "Really?"

"Yes. It's creepy."

I smiled "Well," I continued the Welsh accent "that is very good information, Ifan."

He shuddered "Remy, cut it out!"

I laughed and switched back to my real voice "You asked for it."

The crab bake was pretty good, I prefer crawfish myself and I'd take Ianto to a crawfish boil when we got to Louisiana. I also informed him that he would be trying gator. He looked at me and told me he'd think about it.

Ianto

In D.C. Remy took me to several sites, some even he hadn't seen before.

"Where are you getting the money for all this?" I asked as we toured the Smithsonian.

"Honest answer? Next time the Professor plans a field trip for the kids, you won't go."

"So, that's how it is."

"That," he put an arm around me, "and I'm not as frivolous with my allowance as the others believe."

"You know the word 'frivolous'?" I said with a smile.

He shoved me lightly, "Shut your mouth."

…

We didn't stop in many places for very long till we got to South Carolina. Remy apparently has something against the Upper South. When we passed the "Welcome to South Carolina" sign, I said,

"While we're here, think we can teach Will's dad a lesson?"

He was silent for moment, "Tempting, but I doubt it would improve the situation."

"I know, but we don't have to let him see our faces."

Remy sighed, "Ianto, if you wanna attack people for not liking mutants then join Magneato."

"I was kidding. Besides, I didn't mean attack him, I meant scare him a little, maybe influence his thoughts…"

Remy shot me a look, "Ifan."

I cringed, he really did sound like Tad that time, "All right, I'll shut up." Why did I have to go and tell him about his Welsh accent?

At the motel we stayed at in Columbia, we had a television. I'm thinking it was a mistake to have watched "Deliverance" before going into Georgia. I'd never seen it before and I'd wanted to. Remy hadn't seen it either. We both regretted it.

"Do we have to go through Georgia?" I asked as I clutched his arm while the credits rolled.

"No choice now, 'sides it's better than driving through the Appalachians in the middle of winter. I hate snow."

"Yeah, I heard about that skiing incident in Germany."

"Who told you? Rogue or Wolverine?" his cheeks flushed.

"I take the Fifth."

"Damned Constitution," he muttered "and that tree jumped in front of me."

"Sure it did."

He sighed, "Anyway, at least we don't have to go through the desert after watching "The Hills Have Eyes."

"Why, what happened in 'The Hills Have Eyes'?"

"You don't wanna know."

He was right, I really didn't.

Remy sighed again, "This movie," he waved a hand at the television "gives people in rural Georgia a bad name. They're just misunderstood, so are Cajuns. A lot of backwoods and water types are."

"I think I read somewhere that the word 'Cajun' used to be offensive."

"Really?" he quirked an eyebrow, "Imagine that. Well, times change. Negro used to be proper. Words do one eighties all the time."

"Okay, but one thing I don't get; are we half Cajun? Our mother's from Louisiana but was she really Cajun—despite what Tad said about her accent? Do you have a right to call yourself Cajun?"

He took a breath, "I was raised Cajun."

"I guess it's that whole nurture vs. nature thing."

"It's also in my nature to be Cajun; it just feels right to me. Maybe I was Cajun in a past life. Besides, I don't think it's really what's in your blood that matters but what's in your heart and soul."

"I agree."

Still, it was a bad idea to have watched "Deliverance". Not only was I unable to sleep that night but once in Georgia I was completely on edge. Especially when we pulled off the highway to fill up the tank. I was ready to bolt if I saw a boy with a banjo.

All right, truthfully, we made it through Georgia just fine. I just scared myself a little. We were never attacked by crazy hillbillies, not in Alabama either. Though apparently, Remy has something against Alabama. It was in Mississippi we had problems.

Remy

Have I mentioned how much I love Rogue? Well I fucking hate her goddamn state. There is evil in them there woods. Evil I tell you!

We had crossed into Mississippi late the night before and the day started out nice enough. We stopped for breakfast at a friendly looking diner just off the highway. It was normal, nothing felt wrong, nothing at all. We even had a cute waitress if a bit pale looking and she acted a bit weird. I just figured she'd smoked a joint before work; she didn't look much older than Ianto. Not that I stereotype teenagers or anything. I was a teenager once.

I wasn't that hungry so I just ordered biscuits and gravy. It even tasted good.

"Go easy on that stuff" I told Ianto when he started on his third cup of coffee "I don't want to have to stop till we get to Jackson."

"Oh I'll be fine. No worries." The liar.

We hadn't been on the highway long before we reached a rural stretch of road and I realised that my breakfast was disagreeing with me. Not good.

"Ianto," I said "check the map, when's the next rest stop?"

He looked at the map "Looks like another half hour, why?"

"We need to pull over."

"Good, you were right about the coffee."

"Next time listen when I tell you stuff." I pulled off the road at the next turn off and stopped near some trees. There was a dirt road a little ways ahead.

Normally, when not stopping at a rest stop, we'd take turns going into the trees, one of us watching the car. But neither one of us could wait any longer.

My coat had many pockets and thankfully I'd been carrying toilet paper in one of those pockets because I really didn't have time to dig through the trunk. What the hell did Mississippians put in their food? I'd have to ask Rogue sometime.

"You know," Ianto called from the other side of the bush I had dived behind, "we could have waited till you digested properly."

"Are you done peeing? Go wait with the car. Besides it was just biscuits and gravy!"

"All right, but I'm not done taking the micky out of you," and I heard him walk back the way we had come.

Just as I was pulling up my jeans, I heard what sounded like struggling and half of a scream coming from the car. I grabbed my coat off the bush and ran towards it. Unfortunately my jeans weren't all the way up and I tripped. By the time I got to the road, the car was being driven away, Ianto was slumped in the back seat and two creepy looking men were in the front.

"Hey! What the fuck you think you're doing?" I ran after the car. One of the men turned around and shot at me. I rolled on the ground and the car turned down the dirt road.

I cursed as I got up, the damn bullet had grazed my shoulder—which is NOT the same as actually being shot—I checked my pockets. Damn, those bastards didn't hotwire the car, they didn't need to. I had left the key in the ignition. Again. I am such an idiot.

I took several deep breaths and took in my surroundings. I was on an empty road, off of a spooky highway in the middle of Mississippi, I'd been grazed with a bullet which was just not supposed to ever happen, the first aid kit was in the car which had been stolen, I for some reason didn't have my communicator on me and my younger brother had just been kidnapped by what appeared to be a couple of nefarious looking hillbillies. There wasn't time to get help or to wait for it. I was on my own; I could handle a couple of thugs. I walked towards the dirt road and turned down it, cards at the ready. Nobody messed with my brother and got away with it. To top it all off now there was a hole in my coat, why'd I have to go and put it back on?

Ianto

The smell was the first thing I noticed when I came around. It was thick and rancid, worse than a clogged toilet during a woman's period. I gagged as I opened my eyes and struggled to sit up. My head throbbed and my body ached like they had kicked me after knocking me out. I wasn't tied up, which was a blessing, but I was groggy and didn't think of my powers quite yet. I only hoped Remy heard me scream.

I didn't get a good look at who had taken me, it all happened so fast but they were certainly human. At least I hoped they were human. I was in some sort of basement but there were windows and light shone through. I could see well enough. I honestly wish I couldn't. The room not only smelled of but was also covered in blood and other bodily fluids. There were piles of clothes and shoes all over as well. I had to wonder how many people had been down there. A lot by the looks of things, from different eras too, I saw some Civil War uniforms, both Union and Confederate.

There was even a fridge. I didn't think anything of it at the time, lots of people kept fridges in their basements.

I told myself that I didn't need to look in the fridge. It wasn't my business. Did I listen to me? Do I ever? Apparently not.

I opened the fridge and it was full of body parts, arms and legs and dear God, even some poor bloke's penis. I slammed the fridge shut and told myself not to panic. I would get out of here alive and in tact. I wanted kids someday, god damn it. I took a few deep breaths and remembered I was a mutant and telepathic.

Remy, Remy can you hear me?

Ianto, he answered, thank God, are you all right?

Just bruised really.

Where are you? I followed the tire tracks to some sort of farm or plantation.

Oh, I think I'm in Hannibal Lector's basement, or rather his messy twin brother's.

What?

There's blood all over and body parts in the fridge.

Mon Dieu. You alone?

For the moment, but who knows when they'll come to finish me off. I didn't see where they took me. There've been a lot of people down here, Remy.

Damn. Well, like I said, I followed the car to a farm, I'm watching from the trees. It looks harmless, nice big mansion but I got this creepy feeling. You need to let me know where you are, any of these buildings could have a basement. Think you can blast you're way out.

Maybe. Did they see you on the road?

They shot at me and didn't check to see if they got me. I guess they think I'm not a—

He cut off abruptly.

Remy? Remy, what happened? Can you hear me?

It's all right, he responded, just a possum. I think I scared it too. Those guys that took you just came out of the big house and are headed to what appears to be a carriage house or once was anyway.

Carriage houses have basements?

Not in New Orleans, what with being six feet below sea level and all. I don't know about anywhere else.

The basement door opened then and a woman came down the steps. She was wearing a yellow house dress that looked like it belonged in a Civil War museum.

….

Remy

I watched the two men (clearly not hillbillies if they lived here, the dang place was well kept, very well kept. Maybe they were servants) enter the carriage house.

Remy, said Ianto's voice I don't think I'm in the carriage house. A woman just came down. She's saying she's going to prepare me for supper. The creepiest thing, Remy; she's dressed like it's 1865.

My gaze shot back towards the big house, Southern Belle ball gown and everything?

No, more like a house dress but still 1865. She's saying I have to come with her. Remy, she's very pale and her eyes are completely black.

Then a woman's voice entered my head, I can hear you.

I lost the connection with Ianto and a gun cocked behind me. It was followed by a barrel being shoved against my back. A musket if I knew my guns, Belladonna's father had a musket.

"March," said a gruff male voice.

I swallowed, "Whatever you say sir," I allowed myself to be marched towards the big house. I needed to think of a plan. The problem was, I don't normally plan; I tend to just make things up as I go. I thought of trying to call the Professor but if that lady could hear my thoughts—maybe the Professor will just know.

I was marched past my car which looked unharmed, not that the car was important in the grand scheme of things but Ianto and I would need transportation when we escaped. That's right, when, think positively Remy.

I was shoved through the large double doors. Just inside the hallway was the waitress that served us breakfast. She was hanging on the wall and appeared to be dead. Were we talking zombies here? Son of a bitch. She must have put something in my food. What the hell was going on? I wanted to turn around and see who had a musket to my back but I continued to let him lead me further inside. I couldn't help but notice that the inside was just as grand as the outside. Whoever owned this place was rolling in it.

I was taken to the kitchen which resembled the one in "Gone with the Wind". This was not good. But fortunately, through another door came Ianto and apparently the lady of the house. Her eyes were indeed completely black and she was very pale. Corpse pale. Other than that she was quite breathtaking. Ya know if you were into that sort of thing.

"Hands on the table, both of you," she said, accent definitely Mississippian.

Ianto did as she said immediately but I of course was more resistant.

"Unless you got a badge, lady, I ain't listening."

"Remy," Ianto said, voice shaking "you should listen, there's something very unusual about this place."

The woman came closer, "Your brother is very wise," she touched my cheek lightly which sent bonfide shivers down my spine and her eyes fell to my shoulder, "you're wounded," she tsked "I have told those boys to be careful. We might need to replace them, Captain." I had forgotten about my shoulder, I barely even noticed it then, it hardly stung and it had stopped bleeding.

"Yes, ma'am. These two?" said the man with the musket in my back.

"Maybe this one, I can't stand Cajun cooking. But the boy, it's been so long since I've had food from the Mother Country."

"Now, just you wait—" I started but Ianto cut me off.

"Remy! Seriously, put your hands on the table," he enunciated each word, "there's a fucking Confederate soldier behind you."

"What?" I dared turn around and sure enough, the man was a Confederate captain. He looked like a zombie. I guess we were talking zombies here. That didn't make sense, voodoo country was a little further south-west.

Ianto

Remy turned back around and put his hands on the table. I hoped he got my message. For you see, I meant to charge the table and throw it at the kitchen window, thus creating an escape route. I had no idea what was going on but so far I had garnered that the Lady in Yellow, which I had come to call her wanted to eat me, she had at least three minions, the dead soldier and those two blokes who took me and she still lived in the 1800's. Except for the fridge. What was up with the fridge?

The only logical conclusion I could come up with was that she was some sort of demon. But why would a demon need with a fridge?

"Lady," Remy said, "What's the meaning of this? What the hell is this place?"

She tsked again, "Such fire, you will make a fine lieutenant. Once you learn your place."

"I ain't gonna be nobody's lieutenant, and you're not gonna do anything to my brother."

"You think so? Perhaps he'll be all right as is. I was thinking of a marinade. Perhaps with vinegar. They like vinegar in Great Britain don't they?"

I wanted to be sick, she was taking about how she was going to cook me.

"Captain, ring the bell please," the Lady said.

Remy and I stared into each other's eyes, we didn't use telepathy, didn't need to. The look we shared said, do we bother to find out what this is all about or just get the hell out now? Remy nodded once, we chose to get the hell out.

"Trois," he mouthed.

During our eye conversation, the zombie captain had rung a bell and within moments the two men that took me arrived. I then lost track of what the others were doing, I focused on Remy and escaping.

"Un, deux, trios," he said and in unison we charged the table (the light was purple), threw it at the window and ran like hell. Dodging bullets all the while. I didn't look back. We ran to the car and dove into it.

Remy swore in French.

"What's wrong?" I asked, daring to look at the house, "You might wanna start the car."

Milliseconds later the car revved to life and we barrelled out of there.

It wasn't till we were back on the highway for about half an hour and other cars surrounded us did either of us speak again. I broke the silence when I noticed Remy was driving without a key in the ignition.

"Remy, where's the key?"

"Motherfuckers must have took it. I had to hotwire."

Ignoring the fact that he could hotwire a car, I said "That wouldn't have happened if—"

"Shut up."

"Fine," I opened the glove compartment and saw that the map was still in there. I took it out and looked at it, "Remy, we were in Bienville National Forest just now. Why was there a plantation?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Let's just forget it."

I agreed.

"Why didn't we go down Interstate 59, it turns into Interstate 10 and that goes into New Orleans."

"I know but I have a friend in Jackson and we ain't stopping till we get there. Besides, I think I might be wanted by a motorcycle gang that patrols the I59."

I didn't ask. I wasn't in the mood. So after a quick stop in Jackson—we didn't want to stay in Mississippi any longer than necessary—we would take the I55 into Louisiana and the 310 into Jefferson Parish.

Remy's friend in Jackson was completely high on cocaine when we got there. It took all my will power to leave the apartment and wait in the car before I was tempted to look for left over drugs. Even so the smell was on me and more on Remy when he came out a few minutes later.

"Is your friend all right?"

"Oui, he'll be fine but I doubt he'll remember we were here. Come on, we'll fill up the tank, get a snack and we ain't stopping till we get to Nawlins."

"Will the car be all right, driving without a key?"

"Oh," he fixed the wiring he had messed with earlier. Then he got back out of the car and dug in the trunk, "all our stuff is still here. Ah ha," he closed the trunk and got back in the car, the spare key in his hand.

"How'd you open the trunk without a key?"

He just looked at me.

"Never mind."

I don't know what time it was when we finally got to Remy's house in the Garden District but it was late or early. I didn't care. I don't even remember flopping onto the sheet covered couch and falling asleep. But apparently that's what I did.

…

Remy

I let Ianto sleep as I locked up the car and moved the stuff inside. I'd call the X-Mansion in the morning to let everyone know we'd made it alive. I wouldn't mention the plantation in the forest though. I didn't see the point, it was just too bizarre.

Tomorrow, we'd de-dust the house and get things set up. The house had come furnished when I had acquired it, so we'd only brought clothes and other small necessities. We might wanna do some personalization though. We'd have to go shopping anyway. Especially for food. The mattresses might need replacing too, they were pretty old.

I didn't sleep the rest of the night. I kept watch over my brother.