November, 1997
Then it seemed practically an insult to just up and leave and go back to New Orleans now, Uncle Stephen's warnings be damned. Remy was perfectly safe here. All the X-Mansion's science and hi-tech gadgetry would work just as well as any magical wards or mystical spells. The X-Mansion was (nearly) impregnable, unless you were the best thief in the world, and really there was but one Gambit, aka, Remy Étienne LeBeau (and the world could heave a giant breath of relief because one Gambit was plenty). Then it got to be close to Thanksgiving, and no one seemed to be of a mind to cook; even Rogue seemed to struggle. Far be it for Remy to ruin her favorite holiday. He could cook perfectly well, trained as he was at his Tante Mattie's side since the age at which he could stand at a stool and be trusted not to touch the burners. No, actually it was before he stopped doing that, he had the scars to prove it.
There was a memorial service for Warren and Maddie and Baby Christopher in the X-Mansion's tiny cemetery on campus. Remy did not attend that part, but spent his time ordering some of the younger New Mutants around telling them where to put plates and serving dishes and what have you for the post-services meal, then cleaning up the mess they made when someone inevitably spilled or dropped something. Afterwards, Rogue made sounds at him in a fake angry way that he was horning in on her turf. This resulted in a Bake-Off to determine The 1997 Kitchen Master. Rogue won with a stone-fruit pie and did a victory lap around the island counter with much accolades. Later, Logan admitted there was no way Remy was going to take the title, because no one wanted to end up in the lake. It was too cold. Remy was a more graceful loser anyway, having had much experience in this area. He gave up his plans for a seafood-based Thanksgiving spread and volunteered to make groceries with Ororo.
"I do enjoy this tradition," Ororo said to him as they walked across the parking lot toward the crowded store. "Of giving thanks with friends and family. But I must protest the addition of animal stock to nearly every dish."
"I can make you a pan of bread pudding," he told her. "As long as dairy is acceptable."
"A locally sourced vendor, perhaps," Ororo said, smiling at him. They were a similar height, so it was easy to share glances as they walked. "One with humanely raised and handled animals."
"D'you know how much dat stuff costs?" Remy complained. He looked over at her: "I guess it's once a year. We won't break de bank?"
"No, no breaking of banks," Ororo insisted.
"I'm not dat kind of-," Remy began.
Ororo shook her head, which was covered in a knit cap to keep her partially shaved head warm, her elegant neck was wrapped in a scarf. "I am aware," Ororo said. "I jest only. I should tell you... I was once a thief myself."
Remy blinked at her. "I thought you were a goddess?"
Ororo smiled. "No, no, that was...some foolishness," she laughed at herself. Then, in a somber tone added: "As a young child, I lost my parents in an accident."
Remy made a sound of sympathy, pulled a stuck shopping cart from the queue. "Sorry, t'hear."
Ororo nodded her head briefly. "I lived on the streets, in Cairo, picking pockets. Stealing small treasures."
"Look at dis, we're thick as thieves." Remy grinned and together they guided the cart into the mass of shoppers.
"I had forgotten how crowded the stores were at this time of year," Ororo observed, with a touch of nervousness.
"Make way! Make way!" Remy announced to the public at large, leading the charge. "Goddess a-comin' through! A goddess amongst us, y'all! Look away, lest she smite thee!" Some shot Remy a dirty look, but the majority smiled, laughed, and moved aside. Ororo trailed behind, shaking her head in admonishment.
"You are ridiculous," she said smiling.
"Incorrigible, some might say," he added. "You can't have been any kind of thief, padnat! What'd you do, blow their wallets from dey pockets?"
Ororo produced Remy's billfold, holding it up as evidence.
He laughed at her. "More de fool you, I ain't got nothing to steal!"
Ororo perused the wallet's contents. Remy tried to snatch it back, but she was too quick. "Is that so?" she asked and fished a photograph from the wallet. It was the one Remy had taken of himself and Rogue in the leaf pile.
"Bah!" Remy grouched while depositing a huge bag of potatoes into their cart.
Ororo smiled at the photograph. "How happy the two of you look. Or perhaps, Rogue is slightly vexed, but mostly happy."
Remy narrowed his eyes at her, attempting a surly look he'd seen on Magnus' face.
Ororo laughed. "And who is this?" she had found a second photo hidden where perhaps there should have been credit cards.
Remy looked away. "That's my friend," he said. It was a photo of himself and BellaDonna, standing quite close. Her body pressed his back against a brick wall.
Ororo considered it. "She is quite lovely," she observed. "It appears you and she are more than...friendly."
"Well, we started as friends. Things escalated quickly," Remy said, he cast about the produce section. "Where de yams? I'm all lost in the supermarket, I can no longer shop happily…"
Ororo recovered an elongated tuber. "These are labeled as yams, but they do not appear as such. I believe the correct name for these are 'sweet potatoes.'"
"You're right, chère," Remy said, taking them from her hands. "Let's call a yam a yam. And these are better anyway."
Ororo protested, but he was already wheeling away.
"This friend of yours…" Ororo persisted.
"Belle."
"Belle. Will you reunite as friends when you return home? Or continue to escalate?"
"I dunno, Stormy," he began.
"Do not call me that," Ororo said, poking him in the back with his wallet.
He grinned over his shoulder at her for a moment, but his smile dimmed. "I'm pretty sure I ruined my chances wit' her," he took his wallet back, glanced at the photo of Belle, then put the billfold back into his coat pocket. "And...not entirely sure about the whole 'going home' part."
They walked in silence for a moment, one or the other grabbing an item for the shopping cart, consulting the lists they'd been assigned.
"I think if you were willing, you could find a place with us," Ororo finally said. "You would make a welcome addition."
Remy shrugged a bit. "Dunno," he said noncommittally. "Y'know back home, I wasn't so much welcome. Always de outsider. Then I come here and see how y'all treat each other. Not even related by blood, alla you different, but still family. Think it coulda been better for me. Think I got dealt a bum hand."
"It was not always so," Ororo admitted. "We have made a better effort in welcoming all. We have reaped the rewards of our investments, of our trust for their loyalty, friendship. We have placed great trust in other people, who have experienced… and caused...unfortunate events, done significant harm."
"Understatement." Remy looked back at her. "Magneto?"
Ororo nodded. "Among others," but she did not go into further detail.
"Sounds nice, padnat. I think maybe not all of it is based on trust. I think you might've just got lucky."
"I do believe in good fortune," Ororo said. "I do believe we have been blessed in many ways."
"Does dat mean you hope t'get lucky wit' me?" Remy asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning. Ororo shocked him in the elbow with a tiny static bolt and he yelped.
"Holdin' a metal cart here!" he said. "Last time I drive your chariot, Your Highness!"
"'Incorrigible' is a good word," Ororo said. "I have a feeling I will be using it often."
"Okay, let's say I end de sin and shame in which I wallow, follow the fold and stray no more. Join up with de X-Flock. I have one condition."
"What is that?" Ororo asked guardedly.
"I get t'be on your team, Stormy!"
"Do not call me that!"
"Ow! Y'just cooked my yams!"
Next time: Darlin' don't you go and cut your hair.
I'm all lost in the supermarket - The Clash
follow the fold and stray no more - Follow The Fold, Guys and Dolls