DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this. So fuck off.
(I would like to thank: Anon goddess, for being my lovely little peach; Laceylou76 for being so supportive and wonderful; Irual for the cookies, thanks luv!; LadyMageLuna, thank you for your concern!; TitansRule, don't worry, I'm taking care; Rogue-scholar07, thank you so much; Bloodypassion, I'm so happy for you so please tell me what you think of this^^; RogueMoon, you're new but thank you so much, I hope you continue to let me know how you like this; Valnar, always a pleasure sugah, I'm sure y'all are helpin meh heal faster when ya review lahke ya do - stay brutal!; and my darling AshmandaLC, honey, I may not wait for you updates-wise, but ya know Ah ain' never gon' ferget ya honeypie - Ah'll be ragh here when ya can review again, don't worry, Ah understand! To all of you, thank you so much for being there for me lately and let me know if this is total fail. If it is, I'll blame the painkillers I'm not supposed to take - they're not good for me but no pain is a small price to pay for wooziness and lack of control over motor functions^^ All of you, take care, stay safe. Luv to y'all!)
~Scarlet Letter ~
Belief...
~*****************************************************************~
"I've decided t' go stay at de Institute for a while," he said cautiously, awaiting the response which would hands down be an angry and disappointed one. That is, should have been. Would normally have been. But nothing was normal anymore. Instead, the Aussie just shrugged and said,
"Ya wanna be closer ta the Sheila, fine by me. Jus' make sure ya give 'em hell while y' there an' don' let 'em stick ya in anythin' made o' spandex." Remy raised both eyebrows.
"Y' not gon' tell Remy t' stay de hell away from dat place?" he asked incredulously, and John shook his head wearily.
"Can' be bothered mate. Ya wan' ta be with 'er, easiest way ta do it is ta go where she is, easier ta do it when y' actually allowed ta be there in the firs' place. Y' get what y' want. Why should I muck that up for ya?" Remy ran a hand through his hair.
"Je ne sais pas... T'ought y'd be pissed is all."
"Never understood why you blokes have completely changed the meanin' o' that word," John sighed.
"No, I'm not pissed off at ya. I get it. You're a helluva lot luckier than me, mate. She actually want's you aroun'." Remy shrugged.
"Peut-être."
"What, you two 'ave a barney or..?" Remy shook his head and sighed, making an extravagant gesture involving both arms and a generous dollop of pure Cajun melodrama.
"Non, 'm jus' worried dat ma chere only accepted ma déclaration son amour 'cause she wasn' expectin' it, and den all de drama wit' de petite friponne came along an' she needed someone t' lean on so she accepted it, an' now y' Wanda's jus' fine an' de worl's turnin' again an' she can have secon' t'oughts, y' know?" John nodded.
"See what ya mean there mate."
"Can' y' tell me what t' do, mon ami?" Remy looked at the same time hopeful and assured that it was a lost cause.
"Rem', the only thing I'm good at is runnin' away. Don' see how that would help ya much righ' now," John said solemnly,and Remy sighed and pulled a cigarette from nowhere, John's comfort-flame which he had been cradling between his pams flicking up to kiss the tip and lighting it. Remy took a deep drag and exhaled slowly.
"What if... What if she doesn' tink I'll stick aroun', mon ami?" John shrugged.
"If she knows ya she'll know the fact ya even considered livin' with those straight 'n' narrow dingbats in that place for 'er sake is practically equal to you chainin' y' goddamned heart to 'er bedpost mate." Remy chuckled ruefully.
"Ce n'est que trop vrai... Y' should 'ave 'eard all de tings de professeur wanted ole Remy t' promise 'im! Never heard s' many rules in all m' life!" John chuckled.
"What do you care? Not like they'd know if ya were breaking 'em all six times a day an' even if they did, y' don' belong to them an' y' old enough ta be doin' whatever the hell ya want." Remy regarded him with appraising eyes.
"Jus' what I said, mon ami!" John shrugged.
"Well, I know y' better 'n they do, don' I? Damn it, Rem', y' hate bein' caged up like that, why'd y' say yes? I get y' wanna be closer ta Rogue but Jesus mate, y' gotta try an' hold ya horses before ya go makin' cracked deals with those blokes!" Remy sighed.
"Y' gon' laugh at moi," he warned and John raised an eyebrow.
"I laugh at ev'rythin', Rem'. Since when d' you care?"
"Since now," the Cajun bit back and John raised both hands in a gesture of dropping the subject.
"Fine, whatever... suit y'self..."
"'m afraid if I leave 'er, she'll get t' tinkin' bout all o' dis an' come up wit' ole Remy not bein' such a great inves'men' in 'er future..." he mumbled in a cloud of expelled smoke, and John sighed.
"Chris', mate..." Remy poked the ground with his boot.
"Y' ain' laughin', mon ami," he pointed out and John shook his head.
"Some things aren' funny, mate."
"Like y'self an' Wanda?" John's little comfort-flame flowed over his hands almost like some small, fiery pet sensing the distress of it's master and attempting to soothe it away.
"No. That's fuckin' hilarious."
"Pardonnez-moi, mon ami... Je sais ce faire du mal..." Remy said quietly and John shrugged.
"Doesn' matter righ' now... Ya need ta get back up mate. Where the fuck's all o' that Cocky Cajun shit ya normally got goin'?" Remy chuckled despite himself.
"Doesn' work on ma chere... She sees righ' t'rough dat. Sees righ' t'rough a lot o' tings, dat femme..."
"Well ya ain' y'self without it. Look, I think she likes ya mate, jus' think maybe all this crap wi' Wanda an' ev'rythin's givin' her room fer thinkin'... Sheilas thinkin' is always a bad thing."
"Got dat righ'. So what do I do?"
"Don' give 'er room t' think. Bes' thing I can come up with." Remy rolled his eyes.
"Great. What am I s'posed t' do? Stal – " John's look cut him off and he nodded.
"Deserved dat one."
"'S long as y' know it, it's fine." Remy flicked his cigarette butt away and John's little flame shot out to incinerate it completely. The Cajun pulled out another one which John just looked at.
"C'mon, mon ami. Stressin' out here!" He sighed and the flame licked up to touch the tip of the offending item, Remy dragging in the smoke like a man deprived.
"Gonna keep y' address in town, right?" Remy nodded, sucking on his cigarette much like a child with a pacifier.
"Oui... Une homme's still gotta work. An I promised de professeur notin' would trace back t' him or de Institute."
"Can' say fairer 'n' that now." Remy turned dim red eyes to John and mumbled around the cigarette,
"Am I makin' a mistake?" John shrugged.
"What the hell are ya askin' me for? I don' know the firs' thing abou' avoidin' mistakes. My whole life is one long mistake. By rights I should be under lock an' key somewhere bein' poked at by people with degrees an' recedin' hairlines!" Remy smiled ruefully.
"Dey ain' gon' take y' again, mon ami. I'll spring y' if dey do."
"Oh, great, thanks a billion. I'd rather jus' not have ta worry abou' it at all!" Remy shrugged.
"Pardon." John's flame wreathed his hands again and he conjured a rough image of a laughing Rogue that dissolved again quickly.
"I get it. I do. I can' tell ya you're makin' a mistake. I don't wanna tell ya. I jus' wan' ya ta be bloody careful, alrigh'? An' if she starts havin' second thoughts jus' convince 'er otherwise. Shouldn' be that hard." Remy threw his hands in the air dramatically and said,
"Merde, Johnny-boy, de femme is harder t' crack den a goddamn safe an' shit scared o' committin' t' someone like moi, y' tink I c'n jus' sweet-talk her int' acceptin' dat 'we' should be 'us'?" John stared him down.
"Y've already convinced her ya mean what y' say. Now y' jus' need ta convince the Sheila that ya always will. Work it out."
"I love her, Johnny-boy," Remy said hoarsely through a cloud of smoke, and John patted him on the back.
"I know, mate. I know." Remy nodded once, rose and walked to his bike and John got up and turned to enter the house, not looking back.
~***************************************************************~
"Coming to live with us?!" the offended disbelief in Scott Summers' voice would normally have been hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that this was a serious announcement.
"Why, Professor? He could go anywhere," Jean asked in a more reasonable tone. Scott made a derisive noise.
"Isn't it obvious? He's coming to drool over Rogue and get the minors into trouble! Professor you cannot be serious about this! He's a thief and a liar and I don't trust him around all these underage girls to be honest." Jean glanced at her fiancée with a 'don't push it' look in her eyes but he didn't back down at all.
"Come on, Jean, you can't tell me you're okay with this!" Jean shrugged.
"Well, maybe it's not easy for him being all alone out there with all this anti-mutant hate going around right now – and last I heard he's not exactly friends with his family so he can't hide out there," she said in a tone clearly meant to calm him down but he just shook his head.
"I can't believe you're agreeing to let him into our home, how can you not see that this is going to cause trouble?" Jean just ignored him and addressed the Professor again.
"I'm sure we'll all do our best to make him feel welcome, Professor," she said calmly, mentally connecting with him at the same time. Leave Scott to me, I don't want this to turn ugly. The Professor nodded and smiled at the young couple.
"You two may go now. I'm expecting Mr. LeBeau to turn up later this evening although he may not be staying with us on a full time basis. I gather he has other commitments alongside this one," he said neutrally, Scott glaring holes in his desk.
"Professor, why are you letting him in here? He's a criminal and even worse, he's proud of it. That's not what we stand for," the young man said quietly, and Charles sighed.
"Because, Scott. Everyone deserves a second chance. That is what we stand for. That is what you stand for, as an X-man. I expect you to remember that." Clearly dismissed, Scott turned on his heel and stalked out, Jean giving the Professor a knowing look before she followed him, closing the door behind her.
"Scott Summers, don't you walk away from me!" she called to the man she planned to marry and he turned to face her, his anger evident in every aspect of his behaviour.
"What, Jean? You wanna tell me he's really a good guy and that I should give him a chance too?"
"No you jerk, I was going to tell you that if you're going to be in such a bad mood all day you can forget our date tonight," she huffed, and he glared at her.
"You think I'm gonna leave the house if he's gonna be here? Him, alone, with the kids and a bunch of people who think he's changed? Are you out of your mind?!"
"So you were going to blow me off so you could stay here and spy on him? That is so low, Scott!"
"I'm low? I'm low?! Yeah, sure, because I'm the one who's been stalking Rogue, I'm the one who goes around stealing shit for the highest bidder, I'm the one who's lying to the Professor to infiltrate our home and spy on us! Yeah, I'm real low!" Jean stared at him in shock.
"Don't swear at me! It's bad enough that your stupid prejudices have rubbed off on the kids, they've been acting like there's some kind of war still going on when we've worked so hard for peace and unity, I just can't believe you're taking it this far!" she said loudly, and he laughed at her instead, throwing his hands in the air.
"Fine, fine! You wanna believe he's changed, that he's a decent guy, you go right on ahead and believe that Jean but when he's robbed us blind or knocked up one of the girls or sold us out to the government you better be ready to hear I told you so!" and he spun on his heel and stormed off, Jean shrieking after him.
"Scott! Scott Summers if you walk away the wedding is off, you hear me? Off!" But he didn't turn around. With a confused sort of sob, Jean Grey covered her mouth with her hand and took a step back. She hadn't meant that. But he apparently had. Tear threatening, she turned tail and ran, only knowing where to when she ws in front of the door and knocking with the hand that wasn't holding back her hiccups.
"Come in," was the reply, and she opened the door carefully, standing in the entrance without knowing what else to do.
"Ah said – Jean?" Rogue had barely spoken the words before Jean was in her room, slamming the door after her and burying Rogue in a one-sided, unwilling hug.
"Jean – Jean, be careful, Ah – "
"The wedding's off!" Jean wailed piteously, and Rogue stopped trying to extricate herself from the other girl and stood stock still.
"Y'all said what?"
"We – had – a – fight – and – the – wedding's – o – o –oooff!" Jean cried, raising her head to look at Rogue, and Rogue stared at the telepath. Jean Grey did not cry well. Her eyes were already pink and swollen and her face was wet and all screwed up much like an unhappy toddlers. Rogue fought the growing urge to gloat mercilessly and helped the other girl to sit on her bed next to her, handing her a tissue. Jean blew her nose inelegantly.
"What were y'all faghtin' about? The wedding can't jus' be off lahke that!" she reasoned, and Jean shook her head, scrubbing at her nose.
"We – we were talking to the Professor – and he said – he said your Remy was coming to stay for a while – and Scott got mad – and he said things – so I told him not be such a jerk – and – and I said if he left the wedding was off – and – and – he didn't stop!"
"Stop walkin' or stop bein' an ass?" Rogue asked, and Jean sniffled.
"Stop walking! He just walked away! The wedding's off!" She dissolved into tears again and Rogue put a hesitant arm around her shoulders.
"Ah'm sure he jus' needs tahme ta cool off, Jean. Ya know how much he hates Remy, he'll get over it – maybe he didn' even hear y'all say the wedding would be off?" Jean shook her head miserably.
"He heard me – this stupid thing he has about this is more important than me – e –eee!" Rogue sat there for about another ten minutes trying to comfort Jean, handing her fresh tissues as the need arose, and when the crying fit subsided she took her arm from her shoulders.
"I - I don't know why I c-came to you – I'm sorry, Rogue," Jean began, but Rogue shook her head.
"It's alragh', really. Y'all don' need to aplogise. Look, Ah'm sure Scott will get over this, take y'all out somewhere nahce, an' it'll be okay. Ah'll try an' keep those two apart – Ah think Remy would love ta piss Scott off as much as Scott would hate it. We just keep 'em away from each other, okay? Go clean up an' talk ta Scott..." Jean smiled through her tears, the swollen cheeks and puffy pink eyes taking away somewhat from the overall effect.
"Thank you Rogue, thank you so much!" she cried, getting to her feet quickly and rushing to the door, exiting the room as suddenly as she had invaded it, and Rogue put her tissues away and stopped, suddenly, by her mirror, looking at herself.
The deep green eyes looking back at her looked painful for some reason and she dug for a reason. Maybe she just felt guilty for gloating inwardly over Jean's plight, her usually perfect facade ruined as though it never had been. But no, it ran deeper. Allowing herself to admit it, she saw a single tear spill from her own right eye past the thick sooty lashes and roll down her smooth pale cheek.
She knew she'd never be in the same position as Jean. A potential engagement – even the breaking off of one – was not possible for her. It wasn't a scenario Rogue's future included and it hurt. No one would ever want to marry a girl they couldn't touch, and certainly that meant a definite lack of proposals featured in the film of her life. Who would want to marry a woman they couldn't share a bed with, who couldn't bear their children or take an active part in the things a husband and wife were meant to share? She would never know what it felt like to stand at the altar with the man of her dreams and say 'I do' to a lifetime of marital bliss.
"Rogue..?" two furry, three-fingered hands rested gently on her shoulders and turned her around. She turned her face away.
"Rogue, are you alright?" She nodded, her thumb darting across her cheek to intercept another tear.
"Yeah, Kurt, Ah'm jus' fahne. Think Ah'm jus' glad Wanda's okay now, y' know?" she said weakly, and Kurt looked at her suspiciously.
"Is that all?" She nodded again.
"Yeah, why? Nothing else is goin' on," she sad quickly, and he gave her a hug which she stepped into gratefully.
"As long as you say so," he sighed into her shoulder, and she petted his hair.
"Ya know, Kurt... Ah really am glad you're mah brother," she said quietly, and he smiled at her, pulling back.
"Me too! Want to be alone, or..?" Rogue nodded, smiling, and her brother stepped back, waved twice, and bampfed out of her room. She walked out to her balcony and leant on the stone railing where Remy had sat that night, taking in the view of the bleeding sky, wind blowing through her hair almost as though a ghost was running his fingers through the auburn strands, and she heard the familiar sound of an approaching bike carried on the breeze. His bike. Abandoning her horison-watching she fairly flew out of her room and down the corridor to be the first one to greet him, her boots not hindering her speed at she burst through the double glass doors to see him standing there by his bike, she barely waited for him to open his arms before she'd thrown herself into them, inhaling the scent of leather, clean sweat, cigarettes and something uniquely him as she buried her face in his shoulder and felt his arms around her waist, so tight she almost couldn't breathe. It didn't matter. Breathing was for later.
"Missed me, ma chere?" he asked, so close to her ear that she shivered, his voice a gravelly whisper, and she shook her head.
"No," she lied, her own voice sounding so strange to her, all breath and hesitation, and he sighed into her hair.
"Y'all took a long tahme gettin' back, huh sugah?" she asked, and he twirled her around twice before setting her down again, laughing delightedly.
"Y' did miss me chere!" he crowed, and she laughed at him, secretly revelling in the ease with which he lifted her, the way he was so much bigger than her, so much stronger.
"Maybe a little – gets borin' round here pretty quickly," she teased, and he groaned.
"'m just a jester t' y' den chere? Ah, ma belle Rogue, y' breakin' mon cœur!" She laughed and stepped back, taking his hand and pulling him after her. He followed willingly.
"Tahme t' face the music," she said under her breath, and he caught up in one fluid step and put his arm around her waist possesively.
"Sing f' me den, ma belle chere..." he growled in her ear, and she turned in his grasp, laughing as their faces drew closer to each other, her eyes closing as his other hand cupped her chin, his gloves between their skin –
"She's gonna zap him!" someone hooted loudly, a chorus of laughter surrounding them as they broke apart, Rogue's eyes promising a gruesome demise to those responsible for wrecking her moment, Remy's glowing a deep, affronted red.
"Like, get a room!" Jubilee called from the stairs, Rahne elbowing her as she dragged her away from the scene, muttering about extra Danger Room sessions and death. Roberto shook his head at Ray and Bobby who seemed to be the ones responsible for the cat-calls, and Rogue glared at them while the ever-discreet Sunspot legged it.
"Why Ah swear ta Gawd Bobby Drake Ah will end you – " she grated, stepping in their direction, and the two X-kids fled, Remy taking Rogue's hand to prevent her from giving chase.
"Dey always dis annoyin'?" he asked, and she nodded, turning back to him.
"Ya have no ah-dea," she spat, and he smiled at her tenderly.
"Y' accent's worse when y' angry," he noted, and she sighed.
"Least it's english," she said, and he rolled his eyes.
"Y' know y' don' mind de french, chere," he stated, and she shrugged.
"Keeps a gal on her toes," she acknowledged, pulling him after her into the kitchen where they were both equally surprised to see Jamie sat at the table with Ororo going over some equations. The boy looked up at the Cajun with wide, staring eyes and an open mouth, Ororo just smiling at them.
"Hello Rogue, Remy – will you two be joining us for dinner this evening?" she asked, and Rogue nodded, slightly distracted by Jamie's reaction to Remy, who looked both embarassed and a little ashamed at the way the youngster was staring at him.
"Wow – your eyes are totally awesome!" Jamie blurted out, Remy's evident shock almost funny.
"What?" the Cajun asked at the same time as Ororo scolded,
"Jamie! We don't stare at people!" and Jamie grinned winningly.
"They're so cool – just like a real superhero!" he said with definite hero-worship on his face, and Remy just stared at the kid.
"Jamie, behave yourself – I'm so sorry Remy, he's so young, and – " Ororo began, but the Cajun broke into a slow, amused grin of his own and winked at her.
"I like dis kid," he said, and then to Jamie,
"Y' know sometimes it's not so cool to be a permanent superhero, mon ami," and Jamie made a dismissive gesture.
"They just don't get it," he said seriously, and then looked to Rogue.
"You're not gonna suck the life out of him, are you?" Ororo immediately clapped her hand over the child's mouth, turning a deeply ashamed, apologetic red face to Rogue who just looked stunned. Remy hid his smile behind his hand.
"I – no, Jamie. No," the Southern girl said quietly, reaching over to ruffle the boy's hair before exiting the kitchen, Remy following. Behind them they could hear Ororo open fire on Multiple for his impolite outbursts and the child's brave defense of his actions, his reasoning including 'it was too awesome!'. Remy caught up to Rogue who had a thin-lipped expression of hurt on her face and took her hand.
"Chere, wait," he murmured, and she turned around to face him, her eyes burning.
"Chere, he's just a kid," Remy began, but she held up her hand.
"Out of the mouths of babes, Remy. Ya know he's raght," she said, and the Cajun rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Non, chere. I know dat I don' care what anyone says. F' God's sake, y' really okay wit' bein' wit' someone who can' hide what dey are? I can' do dat. I won' ever look normal. Y' don' seem t' care bout dat, so why don' y' believe dat dis ain' a big deal f' me?" She began to protest and he was suddenly pinning her against the wall, his mouth on hers as she closed her eyes and gave in, fully intending to taunt him for his bravado in even contemplating a kamikaze move like that, but the kiss seemed to go on and on and she felt no pull. She drew back, panic in her eyes, and he smiled, tucking a section of her hair behind her ear.
"Y – you – " she said breathlessly, and he kissed her again, just barely touching her lips with his own.
"I, am fine," he said softly, and she swallowed and cast about for something to say, anything that wouldn't sound stupid.
"Y'all are insane is what you are," she blustered, and he laughed quietly.
"Oui, chere, if dat makes y' happy den by all means," he agreed, and she couldn't help but lick her lips and take in the fact that they were so close, he was practically leaning on her, all corded muscle and Cajun glory – and she realised that he meant it, and that he wasn't devouring her with his eyes the way she was doing with him. He was gazing at her steadily, lovingly, waiting for her reply. Her reply was to kiss him again, a heartbreakingly slow slide of her lips over his, the pressure between them so light it could have been a dream excepting the fact that she could taste him still, feel him.
"Rogue... Je t'aime..." he breathed when she pulled back a fraction of a centimetre, and she smiled.
"Ah know..."
~****************************************************************~
They were deeply involved in their private moment when a snickt of adamantium claws alerted them to the possibility of their timing and lack of prudency in choosing such a public space being a poor decision.
"Gumbo, I don' wanna have t' say this again but I want a half metre between you two at all times, is that clear?" The Cajun bowed his head and stepped away from Rogue, who crossed her arms and glared at her father figure with apparent murderous intent.
"Logan, ya can' tell meh how close ta stand ta people," she said dangerously, and he smiled at her proudly.
"That's my girl!" he said with a hint of a growl at the end where Remy nodded sympathetically at his sentiments.
"An' maybe I can' tell you what ta do anymore Stripes, but I can damn sure tell him – not a word, bub, not a word," he warned the offended Cajun who was about to correct him.
"Y' can' make me – " Remy began and Logan raised his hand to silence him.
"Y' better count on me makin' ya if I see the two of you like that again kid. Not on my watch." Remy sighed and muttered under his breath and Logan chuckled.
"Damn straight boy, damn straight. You seen 'Ro aroun' here?" Rogue jerked her head at the kitchen and he walked past them, murmuring in Rogue's ear,
"Not in public Stripes.." She shook her head with a disbelieving laugh and Remy pouted.
"I don' like 'him chere," he sulked, and she had to laugh at the face he was pulling.
"Course ya don' lahke him sugah, he's jus' lahke you!"
"Chere, y' take dat back!" Remy gasped, his eyes widening in shock and she giggled and ran, the Cajun in hot pursuit as they bowled over each other into the library and almost up-ended Rahne who howled in surprise at the two mutants who lay sprawled on the floor in a chortling heap of legs and arms and general physical perfection.
"Rogue!" the younger girl exclaimed, and Remy sprang to his feet, pulling the Southern Belle up with him and tipping a wink at the redheaded Scotsman. She scowled at him and Rogue rolled her eyes.
"Rahne, ya seen Kit' roun' here?" Rahne shook her head, backing away from the two older mutants and they shrugged as one and turned to exit the room. Minutes later Rahne was joined by Sunspot who sat next to her with his own book and she looked at him gravely.
"You'll not believe what I jus' saw," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Rogue an' some bloke wi' red eyes – an' she was laughin'!"
~*************************************************************~
"Fred!"
"What now?"
"We're outta ice cream!"
"It wasn't me, I swear," Freddy yelled from his post at the stove where he was concocting something that smelled vaguely like lasagna on the half way mark, and Pietro zipped into the kitchen and resumed his search for things.
"Wanda's not happy," he muttered as he rummaged through cupboards and darted around the kitchen table, and Fred shook his head.
"Calm down Pietro," he said slowly, and the agitated speed demon shook his head and began adding things to the sauce bubbling away on the cooker, Fred having to smack his hands away.
"Why's she not happy?" he asked, and Pietro actually did a lap of the kitchen in a futile attempt to calm his nerves.
"She's feeling weird and she doesn't recognise her stuff and she wants to know when Pyro's coming home and she wants her dinner now and ya gotta help me Blobbo, she's gonna kill me for sure, she's gonna kill me if she doesn't get what she wants – eep!" Fred lifted the annoying Quicksilver and strode out of the kitchen and up the stairs to Wanda's room with him, not needing to knock since the door was ajar.
"Wanda? Dinner won't be ready for another hour, could ya please tell Pietro you're not gonna kill him just cos there's no more ice cream?" Wanda looked up from where she was meticulously picking up everything on her dresser item by item and running it through her hands. She looked tired.
"Things don't look right in here Freddy," she complained, and he stepped into her room and enveloped her in a one-armed hug that was still more than cosy enough given his size. Pietro hung from his other arm, paralysed by fear.
"I know, but it's all gonna be okay, alright? We'll make things work," the huge teenager soothed and she pulled back, smiling brilliantly.
"I have the best brothers in the world," she trilled, hugging Pietro and kissing his cheek as Fred set him down.
"I just wanted you to have everything you want and I feel like such a failure and – " she shook her head and he shut up, Fred leaving them with a cheery wave at Wanda.
"I'm just feeling weird after all of this... I'll be okay. I'm not going to hurt you," she said seriously, and he threw his arms around her impulsively.
"I have the best sister in the world – you're my only sister – I want you to be happy!" he muttered quickly, and she giggled.
"Remember when we were little and you used to win all those races at school just for me? You said I was your princess and I brought you luck," she said quietly, and he nodded, nostalgia pouring off him.
"You're still my princess, sis. I'll win anything you want if it'll make you smile again..."
"Are you still afraid of the dark, Pietro?" He shook his head ruefully.
"Nah, I grew out of that coupla years back when I stopped sleeping normally," he confessed, and she smiled.
"Guess you passed it on to me then... Will you tell me stories if I get scared like I used to tell you?"
"Anytime. You don' need t' be scared for me to tell you stories Wanda. I still remember the one you used to tell me about the princess in the tower waiting for her prince to save her – that was your favourite." She giggled.
"The irony of it all!" she said sarcastically and he smiled proudly.
"Y' know even when we were kids I had the most beautiful sister in the whole world?"
"Pietro, back then the whole world was about a hundred people!" she protested, laughing, and he shook his head.
"I'm serious! An' you gettin' older hasn't made things any easier on me! I'll be fighting guys off with a stick," he mused, and she rolled her eyes.
"That used to get you in trouble, Pietro, maybe you should think twice before you go battering people with sticks."
"It was barely a twig and I hardly touched that kid," Pietro defended himself,
"Besides, he said he was gonna marry you when you grew up. No one's good enough to marry my Wanda." She laughed at the haughty expression on his face.
"You should see yourself! Anyway, I don't wanna get married... I'm good right here with my brother and my pretend-brothers. Unless Freddy doesn't get dinner ready soon. I'm starving!" Pietro looked into her stormy eyes gravely.
"You sure we're all brothers to ya, sis?" She shrugged.
"That's how I remember it. Am I wrong?"
"No, I just... Kinda thought maybe you and Pyro were friends before all this, that's all." Wanda's mirror cracked and he flinched in spite of himself. Wanda took a deep breath.
"No, Pietro. We just hang out because I borrow his stuff and all of that. Nothing's going on. I'm not cut out for all that stuff," she mumbled, and her brother stroked her cheek fondly.
"I jus' wanna make sure you end up with a prince, okay? It's my brotherly duty and all that jazz... And... I don't want you to be upset ever again..." She put her arm around her brother's waist and looked at their reflection in her now-cracked mirror.
"Know what I want? A family portrait..."
~**************************************************************~
Dinner was a hushed affair. The X-kids were either too busy nursing bruises or staring at the newcomer at their table to talk much, the adults speaking in low tones about very little of relevance to any teenage lifeform on the planet, Rogue and Remy each eating with their attention entirely on their plates while their feet under the table were a different matter altogether, Kitty and Kurt shoveling down their food to speed up the process seeing as they both had dates after dinner, and Jean and Scott ignoring each other completely. It was almost a shock to them all when Rogue's mobile rang.
"Uh, yeah?" she picked up, hiding under her bangs, the fact that Remy never even looked up from his dinner seeming to go completely unnoticed.
"Well yeah sugah... Uhuh... Yeah sure... Kitty's gonna be over soon though... Ah know, Ah know... Are ya sure? Okay. Okay honey. Love ya too. Take it easy. Yeah, they all say hey. Bye bye." She put the mobile away and looked up apologetically.
"Can we be excused? That was Wanda," she explained, and Logan grunted in the affirmative.
"Kid need somethin'?"
"Think she wants someone around who isn't scared shitless of her," Rogue said drily, getting up and being shadowed by the Cajun charmer whose every move was being catalogued by four pairs of teeny bopper eyes.
"She say anything about Lance?" Kitty asked, rising too, and Rogue shook her head.
"C'mon Kit, ya gonna be seein' the guy in lahke, twenty minutes, he's even comin' ta pick you up." Kitty blushed prettily.
"I know, I know, just asking..." Kurt got up too and ported to the kitchen, Ororo's slight frown indicative of all the times she had asked him not to bampf in the kitchen.
"Well you children enjoy yourselves," she said airily, and Remy and Rogue disappeared into thin air while Kitty waved her goodbyes and ran out after them.
"You're okay with those two running off like that?" Scott asked Logan snidely and the older man just glared at him.
"Quiet bub."
~************************************************************~
The ride to Wanda's was exhilarating in a great deal of ways. Firstly, Rogue had come to realize that there was nothing quite like speeding along the road ignoring all limitations as to how fast one ought be going while pressed against the firm, muscular back of a handsome Cajun whom your legs happened to also be currently wrapped around. Secondly, the night was crisp and already the sky was a dusky moonlit grey, the breeze whiplike in the sudden absence of the sun. Thirdly, the fact that her main source of warmth was the aforementioned Cajun made the trip an exercise in sensory stimulation and she felt quite lightheaded when they arrived in Wanda's driveway and he courteously helped her off the bike. They spent a mutually instigated five-minute ride aftermath that consisted of a bit of kissing and some rather experimental above-clothes groping before they were interrupted by Kitty opening the door and calling them in.
"What took you guys?" she asked once they were inside, and Remy saved Rogue by shrugging and saying,
"Took de scenic route, petite. Where's de fire?" Wanda came down the stairs wrapped in a slightly overlarge black hoodie whose faded white gothic text proclaimed Die For Dethklok.
"Good question. Where is he?" Remy looked a bit confused for a second before cottoning on.
"Johnny's been in his room all day – unless he went out after I left him dere," he said, and Wanda raised an eyebrow.
"He's not there – the door's locked and no one's answering if you knock." Remy considered this and then took Rogue's hand and led them all upstairs where he knelt in front of John's door, fiddled with something that made no noise at all for half a second by the keyhole and then opened the door to pitch black and flicked on the lights. There was a John-shaped bulge on the bed under the covers and Remy spread out both arms like a magician's lovely assistant.
"Ta-daa, petite! Happy?" Rogue and Kitty giggled and Wanda just stifled a grin. An offended voice drifted out from the vicinity of the bed.
"Remy if that's you I swear I'm gonna kill ya..."
"Y' an' what army, mon ami? Smile f' y' audience!" The rumpled head of St. John Allerdyce made it's appearance and he glared at his friend and his entourage of clearly amused young ladies.
"What the bloody hell..?" mumbled the Aussie, and Wanda tucked her hands inside her sleeves and said,
"I didn't know where you were and you were supposed to be home hours ago. I got worried..." Remy put his arm around Rogue and drew back, Kitty following at the beckoning of Lance who was stood on the landing smiling at her, and suddenly Wanda and John were alone.
"Right'... Well, I'm fine," John said needlessly, and Wanda nodded.
"You've been up here all along?" John nodded warily, uncertain what she was getting at, and she fiddled with her hair.
"Okay... Umm... I feel silly now," she said, and he waited for her to carry on.
"I got all upset and called Rogue and Remy over to find you for me... Kind of stupid," she muttered, and he smiled softly.
"Come in an' close the door, luv..."
