Disclaimer: The Marvel universe isn't mine… I just play with it when I have free time.
A/N: Well, you never think it'll happen to you… But it did. I'm so sorry for taking a long time to update – this would have been posted a week ago, but my laptop abruptly went kaput and took this chapter and the next (which I stupidly hadn't backed up) with it. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper! Ironic that they were the pieces I was actually really pleased with and couldn't fathom rewriting, eh?
But! Luckily, things worked out – I took my baby in to get fixed, and that will take a few weeks (grumble), but the important thing is that the geeks managed to recover my data. I am eternally indebted to them! Oh, wait, no I'm not – I shelled out good money for it! The funny thing is that when I finally got the recovery disk, it almost crashed my desktop… Yeah, definitely not a ha-ha type of funny. Technology is clearly out to get me… The point is, I've definitely learned my lesson, and will now be backing up my work with a never-ending paranoia.
Anyhoo, your new chapter is finally here. I swear, after all the trouble it gave me, it better be the best one yet! It certainly is the longest, if that counts for anything…
Symbiotic
Chapter 25 – Interruptions
January 2006
A bullet just barely missed him by a distance (or lack thereof) that was too close for comfort. Diving out of the way, Gambit hit the floor with a grunt and rolled forward. Bending his knees, he used the momentum to get back on his feet and straighten up – and then found himself directly between two gun-toting men intent on pumping enough bullets into him to make him look like a piece of Swiss cheese.
He grinned. There was nothing like the Danger Room to relieve some stress!
With the way things had been going lately, he definitely needed a way to calm himself down. Carol had been more annoying than ever after he had told her the Guild news (the untruthful tweaking of it, of course). He had been hoping it would put her off him slightly, knowing his fate was already decided, but it only seemed to make her all the more desperate to spend as much time with him as possible.
The irritation had been building inside of him for days, and he worried it would burst at an inopportune moment. Hence he had taken to ensconcing himself in the Danger Room, going through countless training programs that served the dual purpose of acting as catharsis and keeping him away from Carol. Currently he was running through one of Kurt's designs, which featured enemies based off of the agents in the Matrix movies. At first he had chuckled at the boy's obsession with the trilogy, but now that he was actually facing off with the agile, multiplying holograms, Remy was less inclined to laugh.
Shots were fired at him from both directions, and he quickly ducked and rolled towards one of the suited men. He coolly aimed his firearm lower, but before his finger could pull the trigger Gambit jumped up and tossed a charged card at his chest. With the explosion stunning him enough to stumble back a few steps, it gave the thief the opportunity to grab his arm and twist it behind his back while pushing him in the direction of his companion. The mutant used his captured man as a shield, forcing him towards the other agent before shoving him forcefully, knocking the two to the ground.
Removing his bo staff from a trench coat pocket, the Cajun quickly extended it and forcefully smacked his enemies on their heads, knocking them out of commission before they could stand. Keeping his weapon in hand, he moved out of the alley he had been in and then found himself in courtyard tucked between apartment buildings.
The cement setting looked like it had been lifted directly from the movies. "Dieu, Kurt, couldn't y' be a bit more creative?" he wondered, but then the thought fled from his mind as he sensed somebody creep up behind him.
He tried to spin around, but his reaction time wasn't quite fast enough. A black slack-clad leg struck and kicked him in the back of his knee, instantly causing his leg to collapse. Falling forward, Remy tumbled down a few steps before coming to rest on his back at the bottom.
"Hello, Mr. Gambit," he heard an oily voice say. Peering up, he saw the agent staring down at him through black sunglasses. The demon-eyed mutant vaguely wondered if he himself appeared that disconcerting when he wore his shades.
Again he was being distracted with inconsequential thoughts! He was swiftly brought back to reality when Agent Smith aimed another strong kick in his direction. This time his lightning fast reflexes were effective, and he captured the foot just inches before it would have crushed his nose. Wrenching it firmly to the side, the agent was forced to twist with it to avoid the ankle being snapped, thus throwing himself off balance and falling over.
Swinging his own legs up and over his head, Remy used his hands to push off the pavement and hop to his feet. Reaching down to grab his staff, he brought it up in time to bash another agent in the jaw as he came rushing towards him. Whipping around, he swung the metal rod in a wide arc as two other men ran at him from behind, striking them on the sides of their faces. They careened down to the ground amidst shards of shattered sunglasses.
The broken pieces were crushed further into the ground as more agents stomped over them, rushing out of the doors around the courtyard until a crowd of at least a dozen encircled Gambit. They surrounded him and then froze, seemingly pausing for him to make the first move. He smirked, using the delay to regain his breath before taunting, "Well, hommes? What y' waitin' f'r?"
Those words broke the spell that hung over them all, and they all charged the Cajun at the same time. Cursing and suddenly wishing he hadn't goaded them, Remy moved forward as well, grabbing the jacket lapels of the first agent to reach him – crouching and yanking him over his head, he propelled the man into his cohorts and knocked a number of them over like bowling pins. However, there were still too many left standing, and they all sprung towards Gambit simultaneously.
The young man braced himself for a painful dog pile, but to his surprise it didn't come. Instead a powerful force zoomed by him, toppling the remaining agents in seconds. "Simulation completed," the Danger Room computer announced, and the inner-city hologram and the heap of dispatched agents disappeared, leaving behind the cause of their defeat.
"Hey there!" Ms. Marvel greeted him perkily, looking particularly satisfied as she stood in front of the thief in her training outfit. "Thought I'd lend you a hand!"
"Uh, t'anks," he reluctantly expressed gratitude (though he certainly didn't feel any), willing something that resembled a smile to form on his face. Since when had she started coming after him during training sessions? He thought he had found a safe haven from her in the Danger Room – if that wasn't the case anymore, what was he going to do? "But I didn't really need de help, y' know… Y' didn't have t' go t' de trouble."
That had apparently been the wrong thing to say, since she frowned and crossed her arms. "Well, coming in here seems to be the only way I can spend time with my boyfriend these days!" she complained huffily. "You're always training – what's the deal? It's like you never have time for me anymore!"
"Well, I have t' keep dis body lookin' sexy, don't I?" he joked with a wink, trying to alleviate the tension he could feel building in the room (although not too much, since he realized that keeping her somewhat annoyed at him was what he wanted).
"Hmph," Carol scoffed, tossing auburn and white hair over her shoulder haughtily, but his keen eyes noted the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "Whatever you say… How about we run a program together then?"
That was the last thing he wanted to do! After all, the only reason he was there was to avoid her. He didn't particularly feel inclined to fight by her side and potentially have to save her from danger, making her all the more enamoured with his chivalry and bravery. "I don't know, belle, I was actually just finishin' up…"
"Don't be silly, it'll be fun!" she insisted, floating to the control console next to the door. Before he could walk over and think of a reasonable excuse to give, she had skimmed through the training catalogue and picked a sequence. The next second it was loaded, and Remy found himself on a downtown street with giant Sentinel robots slowly clomping towards him.
"Merde," he sighed, putting his staff back into a pocket and pulling out a deck of cards instead, anticipating a few big booms.
It turned out that he needn't have bothered – Ms. Marvel took the air and simply ploughed through the mutant-hunting machines with her super strength, bashing them into pieces without an ounce of finesse or skill. The program ended in minutes, with the Sentinels smashed to smithereens and lying smoking on the street. After the computer announced the run's completion the simulation faded from view, and all that was left was a seemingly exasperated Carol hovering in the air.
"That was it?" she whined, pouting. "That was way too easy! The X-men really need to go through some harder practise…"
Remy privately thought that anything was easy when you could simply bash your way through it with a guarantee that you wouldn't be hurt, but he kept that to himself. Then, to his amusement, she continued, "Hey, why don't we spar for a bit?"
His forehead furrowed. She wanted to fight him? Well, that would surely be interesting – but that would mean the two of them getting sweaty and breathing heavily, with lots of close body contact… And that probably wasn't a position he wanted to be in! No, it would be much too tempting, so he rapidly replied, "Don't t'ink dat's a good idea, belle."
"Oh, come on!" she wheedled, moving closer to him and widening her blue eyes pleadingly (which didn't have anywhere near the same effect as when Rogue did so, he compared). "I promise I'll go easy on you!"
The Cajun blinked in surprise at that comment. She was serious! She hadn't said that teasingly, to provoke him into agreement – she actually meant it! She thought she could defeat him in a fight? With her powers it was certainly possible, but his skills far outweighed hers. Suddenly he was insanely curious to see how a tussle between them would turn out, and before he could stop himself, his pride had forced him to accept. "Y're on."
Calling for the computer to load Wolverine's preferred setup, the pair then found themselves standing in the middle of a dojo. Shooting the girl a cocky grin, Gambit asked, "Shall we dance, den?"
"I'd love to," Carol replied before taking to the air and zooming right towards him.
He dove to the floor and felt her swoop over him, the air whooshing and rustling through his hair as she flew by. As he tumbled to the side and rose once more, she was already looping around for another pass. This time she attacked from a steeper angle, legs first as she tried to strike like a hornet – he kept evading her, quick on his feet as he wove around her attempts.
"Y' gonna keep t' de sky, belle?" he panted while scowling at her. "Dat's not a very fair fight, henh?"
"Just keeping you on your toes!" she informed him in a sing-song voice, but she lowered herself back to solid ground and curled her hands into fists.
That was more like it. He bowed grandiosely, as if to thank her, and as she smiled at the motion Remy then swiftly crouched and pivoted on his left foot, bringing his right around to sweep her off balance. To his surprise it worked, and she would have fallen right on her rump had she not caught herself and begun floating just mere inches above the floor.
"Hey, no fair!" she whined, straightening herself back into a standing position once more. "I wasn't ready for that!"
"All's fair in love an' war, henh?" Gambit pointed out with an unrepentant shrug, while wondering how the girl would ever last in a real fight. She would probably be worried about breaking a nail.
"Oh, whatever," she huffed. "Let's just start again, okay?"
"If y' insist," he sighed wearily, and readied himself.
Ms. Marvel kept her eyes on him, but when it became apparent that he wasn't going to make the first move, her impatience took hold. Stepping towards him, she began throwing punches. Her fists flew through the air with a great deal of force behind them but Remy dodged them effortlessly, simply walking backwards and shifting from side to side. It was almost too easy, with a pattern behind her swings and them constantly aiming for the same area. They also left most of her body wide open and undefended – it would be all too easy to get his own jabs in.
Oddly enough, he felt torn at the prospect. It was all too appealing to be a bit more aggressive and hurl some hits her way, but at the same time he was reluctant about it – technically, that was Rogue's body he would be attacking. Looking at her face, even with blue eyes in place of green, he didn't know if he would be able to do it.
Lost in his inner debate, he almost didn't notice when Carol decided to add a kick into the mix, lashing out to Remy's left side. Falling backwards to duck underneath her leg, he allowed his momentum to roll him over his shoulder and land him back on his feet, before moving rearward again as she kept up with her barrage. It went on like that until Gambit backed into the dojo's bamboo partitions, leaving him no further room to manoeuvre. She wound up and tossed another punch his way, and he lunged to the side as her fist made contact with the wall with such power that its impact on the metal siding of the Danger Room could be heard.
It obviously did her no more damage than swatting a fly, but she was still bothered. Turning and narrowing her eyes, she shouted at Remy, "You're going easy on me!"
"Non, o' course I'm not!" he denied, and went back to evading her punches.
"You are so!" she maintained, stopping in her tracks and stomping a foot petulantly, somehow managing to be perceptive for once and sensing his reluctance to retaliate. "Stop it, seriously!"
He cocked a brow, finding her demand amusing. He had figured she would want him to treat her specially – and if he didn't and actually managed to land a blow on her, she would probably wail about that after the fact. But if that was really what she was asking for… "Okay den, if y' say so."
She renewed her assault on him and he withdrew his bo staff, deflecting her blows while being especially careful that she wouldn't damage it. This time he also used it offensively, prodding her when she left herself open for it. Still, it wasn't doing much, and as the pace of their sparring increased the Cajun grew more frustrated. Finally, he held his staff in one hand and clenched the other into a fist, cuffing Carol's jaw.
She didn't even blink. It did more harm to him than her, and Remy grimaced in pain as he flexed his throbbing fingers. Forcing himself to ignore it, he retracted his staff and tucked it away before grabbing a deck of cards, deciding to add a bit of firepower to the fight.
Backpeddling a few steps to give himself more room, he then charged an Ace of Spades and tossed it towards the girl. He hadn't expected it to do much damage (in fact, it did more to her clothes, singing the hem of her shirt), but it prompted her to stop her movements for a moment as she looked down at her scorched top, utterly surprised at his action.
"I can't believe you did that!" she exclaimed, seemingly put out. He knew she would start complaining again, no matter how adamant she had been about him not holding back!
Still, Gambit was glad he had found something that irked her. Fanning out a hand of cards, they glowed brightly before he released them, one after the other heading straight for her. She saw them coming but not in time to completely fly out of the way, and they ended up exploding on her right side and down her leg. Having been charged with more kinetic energy than his previous shot, they burned completely through Carol's outfit and left a span of pale skin exposed. The thief noticed that instantly and grinned, a devious idea forming in his mind.
Drawing a few more cards, the mutant put his precise aim to the test, hurling the small pieces of volatile paper towards his target. They struck true and fizzled, leaving a few more holes in her uniform, this time providing a tantalizing view of her collarbone and the sensuous curve of her hip. Her uncovered skin was always pleasant to see, and it distracted him more than he thought it would. It also irritated Carol more than expected, and before Remy knew it, he was flat on his back as the girl tackled him to the ground.
He tried to get up but found it impossible with Ms. Marvel straddling him. While he would usually appreciate such a position, this one was all too tantalizing – not to mention rather compromising, with her perched precariously on his hips as her tattered clothes hung scantily off her.
Remy gulped.
"Uh… I guess y' win, belle," he laughed nervously, shifting slightly in an effort to get out from under her – but that only caused her to press more tightly against a sensitive part of his anatomy, and he froze.
She smirked at him, leaning down until her mouth was next to his ear. "So what does the winner get then?" she whispered seductively, licking her lips and smug with the knowledge that his eyes were glued to her every move.
"Well, um… I…" Gambit began to falter, and was unable to finish speaking as she shifted on top of his again. Unconsciously, his hands fluttered to rest on her waist, and he was torn between wanting to push her off and needing to pull her closer.
Carol pulled her upper body away, only to place her hands on his shoulders and leer menacingly over him. "I can think of something I want," she purred, slowly bending her head down, and Remy could only lay there and watch as her lips headed on a collision course with his. The space between them was rapidly closing and…
"Am I interruptin' something?" a gruff voice spoke from off to the side, startling them both (and prompting Carol to dig her nails into him in shock, at which he winced). Glancing over, they saw a less-than-pleased Logan glaring at them. He stood there calmly, but the tenseness in his muscles and the clench in his jaw indicated he was anything but.
Surprisingly Ms. Marvel was the first to recover, straightening up and coolly replying, "We were just sparring."
The man raised a bushy eyebrow in disbelief. "Computer, end program," he ordered, before hiking a thumb over his shoulder and demanding, "I want the room for a while, so get outta here. But since you're so keen on training all of a sudden, ya can come back for a run with me tonight."
She scowled and was about to complain, but was at least clever enough to realize that protesting would only make him question her excuse. "Fine," she huffed, before finally rising up off of the prostrate Cajun. Shooting him one last pout, she then flounced past Wolverine and out of the sliding door.
Remy raised his shoulders slightly to watch her leave, but otherwise didn't move. Once she was gone, he released a long-held breath and let his head drop back to the floor with a dull thud. The peace didn't remain for long. He lay flat, sensing the ground's vibrations throughout his body as Logan stalked over to him.
"Get up," he commanded, his voice full of suppressed anger. He didn't give him a chance to comply – instead he dug a foot in underneath the thief's side and kicked, flipping him over onto his front.
"I'm up, I'm up," the younger mutant grumbled, getting to his knees and then standing.
"Not for long," Logan uttered ominously, standing there with his corded arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Ya wanna tell me what the hell that was all about? An' you're not dancin' your way outta this one, bub – I ain't blind, I saw what was goin' on."
He wasn't about to back down an inch. Carelessly brushing some dust off of his sleeve, Remy flippantly retorted, "Y' know de femmes can't resist me, henh? Who am I t' disappoint dem?"
Ignoring the cockiness, the man threateningly growled, "Thought I told ya to stay away from her."
"Don't t'ink y' ever actually said dose exact words," he casually shrugged. "An' besides, y' ever t'ink dat maybe it's her who can't stay away from me?"
The Canuck snorted and began to circle Gambit like an animal preparing to pounce on its prey. "Yeah, right – an' I'm the Queen of England."
"I'm serious," Remy declared, dropping his arrogant attitude for once. It would only antagonize the other mutant, and he couldn't afford that right now. He needed him on his side, and perhaps if he played his cards right… "Y' haven't noticed how she's always lookin' f'r me, wantin' t' spend time wit' me?"
"Of course I noticed!" Logan scoffed. "I'm not an idiot. I can see the way she looks at ya, an' I can smell the freakin' lust comin' off her whenever you're around! An' don't think I can't smell it on you either."
The Cajun frowned slightly, not having thought of that. That certainly made it harder to deny… So maybe he had to stick in a morsel of truth amongst his explanations? It was worth a shot. "I ain't denyin' some lust… But dat don't mean it's f'r Carol. She's in Rogue's body, remember."
A rumbling emanated from deep in the feral man's throat. "That's not winnin' ya any points, Gumbo."
"Just tellin' y' de truth, mon ami," he claimed, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. "Can y' really blame me f'r admirin' dat beauty?"
"I can blame ya when I find you two up close an' personal!"
"Hey, dat was Carol, not Rogue," the thief pointed out, making the all-important distinction. "An' me admirin' her is de furthest t'ing from de truth."
Logan stopped his pacing directly in front of him to stare at him sceptically. "Oh yeah?"
"Absolument," Remy asserted resolutely, looking directly at the other man. "Y've spent time wit' her, y' know what she's like! Y' honestly t'ink I'd want t' be around her more den I have t'? I can't stand de fille!"
The expression on Wolverine's face didn't change (he'd make a good poker buddy, he fleetingly thought), but Gambit could see something flicker in his dark brown eyes, and he knew he agreed with him – even if he would never explicitly say so. He wasn't completely persuaded, however, and continued on with his interrogation. "That don't explain why you two were so damn cozy."
"Hey, dat was all her!" he exclaimed indignantly, shaking his head. "I was in here trainin' t' get away from her, an' den she insists on sparrin'. Can't exactly push a femme wit' super-strength off me, can I?"
The Canadian stepped closer, until he was almost in Remy's face. Mere inches away, he inhaled deeply, his gaze never breaking from the younger mutant's. A few moments later he grudgingly stated, "You're not lyin'." Gambit grinned in relief and opened his mouth to speak, but Logan raised a hand and cut him off. "But that doesn't mean I trust ya, Gumbo."
"Den I'll prove it," he declared, tilting his chin up stubbornly.
"Oh yeah? How?" the stocky man challenged.
Good, now if he worded this correctly, maybe he could even get an unknowing partner in his plot… Dieu, it was a desperate measure, but then, he was in a desperate situation. "Y' want me to stay away from Carol? No problem – give me reasons t' avoid her an' I'll do it," Remy proclaimed decisively.
Wolverine blinked, clearly not expecting the boy to willingly offer to do what he'd been threatened to do instead. Frowning, he wondered, "You serious?"
"As de grave," came the response, but the thief could see that he needed more convincing. "Look, I told y' – Carol's feelin's, dey ain't reciprocated. I want t' stay away from her just as much as y' want me to, so why not work together on it?"
He could see the cogs in Logan's brain churning away, mulling the idea over – yet he could also see them churning the opposite way and crushing him between the gears. He hoped the offer would be too much for him to resist… But it seemed he'd forgotten a crucial thing, the thing the man cared most about. "What about Stripes?" he asked gruffly.
"What about her?"
"Don't suppose this little deal would extend to ya stayin' away from her too, would it?"
Remy shook his head firmly in the negative. "No can do, homme," he answered determinedly. "We're friends – don't want t' stay away from her."
The Canuck's eyes rolled impressively. "Yeah, right – friends. Sure."
"What?" the young man cried defensively.
"I told ya, I ain't stupid," Logan replied brusquely, shifting uneasily. "I can smell the lust on her when you're around too."
"Really?" Remy lit up at that, but wilted slightly when the fiercest glower yet was directed at him. Sighing, he tried to reassure the wild man. "Look, y' don't have t' worry about me an' Rogue. We've talked, we know where t'ings stand between us. Carol's de one y' have t' worry about."
"Don't want ya standin' near either of 'em," the Canadian glowered, the muscles in his arms bulging as he flexed – possibly wanting to hit him for having some sort of arrangement with Rogue, Remy assumed. Thankfully he didn't follow through on the urge. Instead, he continued to stare the Cajun down for what seemed like an eternity. No doubt he was trying to decide the lesser of two evils: protecting Rogue from him, or from Carol. To his amazement, he then resentfully extended his hand.
Gambit wanted to sigh in relief, but he played it cool, taking the hand and shaking it. The moment he did, Logan squeezed it hard, his adamantium-laced skeleton exerting practically enough pressure to crack his bones. "Ya got a deal, bub," he snarled warningly. "But listen carefully. Ya try anything, an' I mean anything funny that hurts that girl, an' you'll be gettin' to know my three pals here –" He popped out the claws on his other hand, pointed them at his throat and then slowly trailed them down south to an area Remy wanted them nowhere near. "– real well. Got it, Gumbo?"
Doing his best not to flinch from the pressure on his hand, the thief merely nodded, but couldn't help wisecracking, "Now dis conversation I t'ink we've had before."
"Do we need to have it again, or has it sunk in yet?"
"Non, dat's fine, I've definitely got it," he quickly said, turning down the all too eager offer and finally getting released from the strong grip. "Just glad we got all dat straightened out… Guess I'll leave y' t' y'r session, den." He swiftly spun on his heel to exit the Danger Room without further incident, but didn't get far.
That same strong grip now latched onto the collar of his trench coat, yanking him backwards. "Not so fast – you're doin' the run with me."
He silently cursed to himself. "Great…" But then he turned and tetchily queried, "Hey, why am I de bad guy in dis when Carol started it? Why not make her run de gauntlet?"
"I'll be runnin' her through a session later, remember? An' believe me, she won't enjoy it," Logan promised before giving him a pointed look. "An' while she's in here, you'll be packin'."
"Packin'?" Remy echoed curiously.
"Yeah. Chuck's sendin' me up north to check out some anti-mutant activity. If you're so serious about gettin' away from Carol, then ya won't mind comin' with me," Wolverine proposed, just waiting for the younger man to protest.
There was no way he was going to, however. An extended period of not having to deal with the clingy girl? Hell, despite having to spend time with the gruff Canuck, it would still be considered a vacation. "Not a problem, homme," the Cajun acquiesced easily.
"Good," Logan grunted, nodding in reluctant approval. He didn't appear to be particularly thrilled about gaining a travelling partner, but at the same time he seemed somewhat pleased (or at least, as pleased as the animalistic man ever was) that Gambit had agreed to prove himself. The next instant a smirk materialized on his face. "Now, let's get trainin', Gumbo! Computer, start program 112!"
And as the environment around them shifted into a war-torn street with exploded buildings lining the route and rubble strewn everywhere, the lightness in Remy's attitude faded slightly. Sure he would get a temporary reprieve from his current troubles, but first he would have to survive whatever Wolverine was preparing to throw at him…
- X -
That evening…
Grabbing a few t-shirts out of his dresser, Remy placed them in the duffel bag lying open on his bed. They didn't seem to fit very well on top of the pants, boxers, toiletries and decks of cards he'd already stuffed inside, so with a frown he removed a couple and tossed them haphazardly onto his pillow. Pressing down on the pile of clothing with one hand, he tried to use the other to zip up the compartment and just barely managed.
Smiling in satisfaction, he then dropped down onto the mattress and stretched out. He was still sore from the hours spent in the Danger Room getting thoroughly walloped, and now all he wanted to do was sleep. With his packing done, all he had to do was rest for the night and then in the morning he and Logan could take off. The thought made him feel considerably more buoyant – soon he would be hundreds of miles away from Carol, and he couldn't wait.
His good mood was dampened a bit by recalling that her switch would be in a few days, meaning he would miss Rogue's return. That wasn't something he wanted, but he hoped Rogue would understand his desperate need to get away for a while. Well, she definitely would if he explained what exactly Carol was doing, but that wasn't a very good option at the moment – so he would simply have to make up for his absence when he returned. He remembered Valentine's Day was coming up, and a multitude of ideas came flooding into his mind with just how he could woo his chère…
His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, and he sat up, startled. He hoped that wasn't whom he thought it would be…
"Remy? Hon, are you in there?" he heard the shrill voice call out, and he grimaced. No such luck.
He wasn't in the mood to deal with her now. Well, not that he ever was, but he had been hoping more ardently than usual to avoid her this evening – after all, leaving without saying goodbye would have to piss her off! So he kept silent, thinking she would take the hint and leave.
She knocked again, much louder this time, the door actually shaking under her strength. "Remy? Come on, are you there? I just had the worst session ever with Wolverine, he was so mean to me! I was hoping you'd find some way to cheer me up…" she ended with a suggestive coo.
He swallowed nervously, trying to purge the thoughts of what she could mean from his mind and wishing she would just head off already. Rather than giving up however, she began to turn the doorknob instead.
What was she doing? The door was slowly creaking open, and Remy panicked. Thankfully he kept enough of his wits about him to remember he didn't want her to see his duffel, so he grabbed the bag as he dove across to the other side of his bed. He landed on the floor just as the girl entered. The bed hid him from her view, but that wouldn't last if she walked around it – with nowhere else to go, he silently slipped underneath it while Carol shut the door behind her.
Now all he could see of her was her feet, those silly furry boots she insisted on wearing slowly treading further into his room. "Remy?" she tentatively called out once more. The lack of a reply didn't deter her – she only grumbled under her breath, but kept skulking around. What on earth was she doing? Then he silently chuckled at the question. What was he doing? He had resorted to hiding under beds now? That was pathetic.
Still, he wasn't about to crawl out and face her, so he remained still and observed. Her feet meandered over towards his desk, and he could hear her picking up things and shuffling through papers. The nerve of her! Despite his leanings towards the less-than-legal, he had never resorted to peeping through her things… Yet.
At least he didn't have anything incriminating lying around, or else he would've been in trouble. No, he wasn't stupid enough to leave things unsecured, especially in a mansion full of curious kids and unlocked doors.
Her feet moved closer to the bed and he held his breath. She had no reason to look down and peek underneath it, but what if for some reason she did? She stood still for a bit, and he heard her inhale deeply. A few moments later she started walking again, thankfully out the door. Only after it shut firmly and Remy heard her steps fade away down the hall did he crawl along the floor and rise to his feet.
Taking a glimpse at his desk, he saw his wallet had been moved, along with the various other knickknacks that had been sitting there. The items had been so obviously rearranged that he would have been able to tell even if he hadn't been watching her do it. Some people were so unprofessional about their snooping around…
Glancing around the rest of the room, he saw nothing else had been disturbed. …Or had it? Something seemed off – but what?
Then he noticed it. A t-shirt he had thrown over his pillow was gone. Unbelievable – she had stolen it! He was supposed to be the thief, not her!
- X -
February 2006
Curled up on her usual window seat in the library, Rogue's lips quirked as she read over the romantic dilemmas of the Dashwood sisters. This was the life! All she needed was the pleasant ray of sunshine that warmed her through the glass, a classic novel, and no distractions whatsoever. It was a perfectly pleasant way to spend Valentine's Day, far away from Scott pathetically attempting to serenade Jean (the boy simply couldn't sing – anybody walking past his bathroom while he crooned in the shower could have told him so) and the younger girls giggling madly whenever a boy so much as walked by them. She revelled in the peace and quiet that surrounded her.
But going over what she had just thought, she realized she had probably jinxed herself. With baited breath, she turned towards the door and anxiously waited for somebody to barge in. …But a few minutes later there was still no noise or movement of anybody invading her sanctuary. She sighed in relief, turned back to Sense and Sensibility and tried to immerse herself in the pleasant environment of Barton Park.
Two sentences later, the door creaked open. It figured! At least it was only Remy. She had wondered when he would come looking for her, assuming he would want to drag her on some ridiculously amorous outing. Of course, it wasn't like she could (or would) accept, but she had to admit to herself that the offer would be rather flattering…
"Bonjour, chère!" he announced, striding over eagerly and plopping down beside her. And, just like she predicted, he grinned winningly and asked, "So, ma fille, got any plans f'r today?"
Something within her felt crafty, so she decided to have a bit of fun. Calmly returning her attention back to the page, she coolly commented, "Sorry, swamp rat – another guy got to me first."
The girl could tell he had been expecting her to decline the invitation, but not because of what he probably instantly considered competition. "Quoi?" he blanched, tensing perceptibly.
"Yeah, Ah've already got a date lined up fo' later," Rogue continued casually, pausing just long enough for Remy's jaw to drop before she informed him, "Yah know, that trainin' session with Jamie."
The relief on his face was palpable before he scowled and muttered, "Dat was cruel, chère, scarin' me dat way."
"Sorry," she smirked back playfully, completely unrepentant. "Ah couldn't resist."
"Well, dat just means y'll have t' make it up t' me," he negotiated promptly, his unease already forgotten. "Let's go out somewhere, what do y' say? Befo' Wolverine sniffs us out an' drags me off."
She frowned at that. Remy had told her about his confrontation with the Canadian and how he had helped him avoid Carol – which was good news, but it seemed the man was including her in the deal as well. And if she knew Logan, then it wasn't just because of a misunderstanding. No, he no doubt knew that the last thing the Cajun wanted to do was avoid her, but he made it happen anyway. Damn the man's overprotectiveness…
Although that wasn't completely fair. She was thankful for it occasionally, especially if it helped Remy stay away from Ms. Marvel – who knew what that floozy would do? But he'd been dragging Gambit off for so many Danger Room runs and missions and odd jobs that she'd barely gotten a chance to spend any time with him this month, not to mention the fact that he'd been gone the first few days she'd been back in her body.
So his request to spend time with her was enticing. Incredibly so, actually, but the Southerner was hesitant. The timing may have been fortunate in terms of them both being free, but it certainly wasn't in terms of the day's date – so she reluctantly shook her head in the negative.
That didn't dissuade the thief one bit, who instead put his patented puppy-dog expression on, widening his eyes and making his lips droop irresistibly. "Oh come on, why not?"
"Have yah forgotten what day it is?" Rogue glowered at him, immune to that face (as cute as it was).
"Valentine's Day, o' course," he answered promptly. "Y' didn't t'ink I'd forget a day as important as dis, would y'?" He seemed extremely proud to have remembered it, not falling into the trap that spelled disaster for countless other men when they missed celebrating the holiday.
"Exactly! It's Valentine's Day – yah don't think it'd go against everythin' we agreed on if we went out today?" she pointed out in annoyance, irked that he hadn't taken the consequences of his invite into account. She couldn't go out with him on today of all days after insisting that they only be friends until everything else had been settled! Yes, Belladonna was now out of the picture and she had been overjoyed at learning that, but Carol was very much still involved and could even be considered the more complicated factor. The Mississippian couldn't let herself flip-flop on the issue – she had to remain firm and resolved.
But Remy was resolved to get his way. "Well, we don't have t' do it as an official couple, do we?" he suggested straightforwardly, leaning back in a relaxed posture that seemed to call for her to try and argue against him. "We could just go out an' have fun, like we usually do. I know y' like t' gripe every time, but why not let me do somet'in' special f'r y' dis once?"
He said that so sincerely, and Rogue's heart did gymnastics in her chest. She would have never predicted being in this scenario, with a handsome young man practically begging to take her out on February fourteenth. The idea was an alluring one, and she really did want to throw caution to the wind and consent… But she forced herself not to. If she agreed, what then? She would use the same rationalization the next time, and the next, until before she knew it they would probably end up truly dating! And that couldn't happen, not yet.
Besides, an outing with the Cajun Casanova today reeked of some sort of sentimental and extravagant gesture – as if she didn't have a hard enough time resisting him already! "Somethin' special on Valentine's Day, arranged by a sneaky Cajun who's tryin' to win me over? D'yah honestly think Ah'll fall fo' that?"
"Hey, I swear I don't have anythin' planned!" he swore, throwing up his hands in surrender. "No romantic arrangements whatsoever."
Rogue eyed him sceptically for a few seconds before concluding he was telling the truth. "Good," she stated, but was then unsure whether she had expressed relief or disappointment. Neither was a sentiment she wanted him to pick up on – what if it then prompted him to arrange something, or gave the impression she wasn't interested? Grumbling to herself, the girl spared a fleeting thought for how things used to be far simpler when she had no romantic prospects. Deciding that reverting back to that attitude would probably be her best course of action, she then stated, "'Cause yah know Valentine's Day really isn't as romantic as people think it is, right?"
"Ahh, is this where y' rant about how it's a fake holiday concocted by florists an' greetin' card companies?"
She wasn't sure if it was sweet or eerie how well he knew her. Deciding not to obsess over that, she simply nodded. "Yeah, that's a big part o' it."
"Not exactly true, though," he declared, leaning towards her conspiratorially as if imparting some great secret. "Did y' know dat in ancient Rome de Emperor banned marriages, so a priest, Valentine, married people in secret? He was found out an' executed, but years later he was made de patron saint o' lovers an' Valentine's Day began t' be celebrated."
"An' how on earth do yah know all that?"
"Uh… Remember it from Sunday School, actually," he admitted sheepishly, moving back to his original reclined position and shoving his hands into his trench coat pockets boyishly.
Rogue rolled her eyes, secretly finding that adorable – but at the same time easily imagining him charming all the nuns. "Well, Ah knew that too," she drawled. "That's part o' my point! What's so romantic about a guy gettin' his head chopped off?"
"But chère, he died f'r love! Dat's de most romantic t'ing y' could do!" Remy winked at her.
"Right, so are yah gonna drag me out an' arrange fo' us ta get killed?" she replied sarcastically, ignoring the swooping of her insides and her private concurrence with his statement. Lord, when had she become so fanciful? It was worrisome.
"Non, but dat's not a bad idea f'r a first date…" he joked mischievously, before he slipped into a more serious guise. Standing up and extending a gloved hand towards her, Remy beseeched, "Please just come wit' me? Don't t'ink about it havin' anyt'in' t' do wit' Valentine's at all – how 'bout us celebratin' a year o' me bein' here at de Institute? Dat's surely an occasion t' commemorate, henh?"
Staring at his hand warily, Rogue's mind raced. She could allow that, couldn't she? It would be no different from the other times they went out… Still unsure, she bought herself some time by retorting, "Oh, yah mean commemoratin' th' day yah became a constant thorn in my side?"
The comment didn't phase the Cajun at all, his hand unwavering. "I'll let y' rationalize it whatever way y' want, as long as y' agree t' come."
She bit down on her lower lip. "No romance whatsoever?"
"None." He raised his other hand as if giving a solemn pledge. "I swear it'll be completely platonic. Any signs o' roses or chocolates an' I'll let y' hit me."
"Yah'll let me? Please, like yah could stop me!" she shot back, a small smile growing on her face as the emergence of some banter made her feel more comfortable. That would be acceptable, wouldn't it? They were friends, and friends could go out and spend time together, no matter what the date. She had his word that there wouldn't be anything to remind her of the holiday, so she could pretend it was any other day… Sighing, she finally relented and grasped his outstretched palm. "Aw, hell, why not? Not like Ah got anythin' better to do."
His eyes lit up in delight, belying his words as he sarcastically said, "T'anks chère, I'm feelin' de love!"
"Oh, shut it, swamp rat – yah should be thankful Ah agreed!" She couldn't believe she had let him talk her into it. But it wasn't a big deal, she sternly told herself – nothing out of the ordinary, just a normal excursion with a friend. It would be nice to finally spend some time together…
…And she couldn't believe her pathetic attempts at justifying it, so she finally gave up. It was too late, her choice was made, but it would be fine. It didn't have to mean anything at all – she was the only one reading anything more into it.
"I'm more thankful den y' know," he grinned, leading her over to the door. Then he opened it and swept his arm out grandly. "Shall we?"
The pair made it out of the mansion without any diversions, stopping to grab coats and scarves before stepping out into the frosty air. The sun was shining brightly and caused the light sprinkling of snow on the ground to sparkle, and the effect was so nice that Rogue suggested they walk about town for a bit. With no specific destination in mind, Remy was in accord with that, and the two leisurely strolled down the streets of Bayville.
Their light-hearted chatter (from Remy's recent missions to Rogue's latest fashion tips from Kitty) took them through the park, and without even discussing it, both knew they were heading towards the coffee shop so they could get out of the cold. The goth didn't mention it, but knowing that they were on the same page like that was enough to warm her up a bit…
As they emerged from the alley beside the café, Remy had been laughing at a comment she had made. "I can't believe y' actually said dat t' Scott!" he exclaimed before his chortling continued – but then it halted abruptly, the pleasant sound dying in his throat like he had been choked.
Observing him curiously, Rogue saw his mouth had fallen open in shock. His sunglasses concealed where exactly he was looking, but she followed his view as best she could down the street and deduced he had to be staring at the young woman rapidly approaching them. Her brow furrowed, unsure of what exactly had interrupted the boy in his mirth… And unsure of why exactly she suddenly felt so uneasy. She had no reason to, since she had never seen this woman before, but the gritty determination etched on her pretty face and blue eyes was foreboding for some reason.
"Remy Etienne LeBeau!" the blonde girl then shrieked, and Rogue detected a Cajun accent in her words. She glanced up at Gambit, thinking he would greet her – it had to be a family member or a friend, she assumed. But the thief had paled and tensed, as if he wanted nothing more than to turn and bolt in the opposite direction.
An instant later, Rogue knew why. Her jaw dropped when he disbelievingly whispered, "Belladonna?"
How many of you saw that one coming? ;)
Next chapter – our least-favourite blonde (well, one of) tries to make some trouble…
Okay, seriously folks, I'm begging you for reviews! After reading my sob-story author's note up top about my technological trials and tribulations, don't you think I deserve some? Pretty please? Lemme know all the stress I went through was worth it! ...Not that I want to sound desperate or anything. ;)
Toodles,
– ish –