A Steel Magnolia's Guide to Coping with Mutation
Chapter 4
Authors note: Bad author! I apologize mostly to Debby, because she was really vocal about me not updating for a while. "Heathers" is going to be mentioned in this chapter, and there is going to be a Halloween dance in the chapter after this! Yippee!
"Oh my sweet Jesus, he's going to kill us," Kitty whispered to Jubilee in the most terrified voice she could muster.
"No, Rogue's going to die, she's the lucky one."
"Excuse me ladies, I can hear you, and nobody is going to get tortured, maimed or killed...except maybe the Cajun," Logan explained. His voice was very calm, but also at the same time, nearly vicious.
"I don't recall Rogue telling me that she had a father," said Remy in a mocking tone.
"Oh...Remy...no..." Rogue murmured, placing her hands over her blushing face.
"I think it's time for you all to go home. Rogue, you're coming with me." Thankfully, Logan chose to ignore Remy's smug statement. It didn't stop him from wanting very badly to beat the boy's beautiful face in; his hands were shaking from that nearly overwhelming urge.
Remy stepped closer to Logan, his anger rising.
"I don't think-"
"Remy, believe us, just let it be," Kitty interrupted, pulling Remy away from the danger zone that was Logan's personal space.
Rogue was silently thankful that Logan had not taken the motorcycle with him for this little "Rogue retrieving" adventure. That was probably due to the fact that Scott had hidden it not long after Logan had returned from Canada. During Scott's lesser moments of mourning for Jean, he gloated that Logan would be looking for the bike until the day he died, because Scott had picked the most perfect place of all to stash it.
"The lunatic probably has it in his closet," Rogue had mumbled as she left her teacher in the hall, smiling over his spur of genius.
"You shouldn't have let him kiss you," Logan said quietly, as they drove along home. Rogue rolled her eyes from the passenger side of the Focus, Logan's vehicle of choice.
"Nothing happened, Logan."
"Something could've happened."
"Maybe not. I've been working on controlling my power, and it's turning out pretty well."
"That's not what I was talking about."
"You're not my father."
"Damn right I'm not you're father."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Shit. She suspected something. Logan's brain coughed up a fairly lame cover-up.
"I don't like your father."
Rogue just smiled.
"Don't smile. I'm still pretty mad at you."
Her smile faded.
"Why? Because I have a boyfriend whose not afraid to touch me? Jealous, are you?"
"That's sick, darlin', why would I be jealous?"
Rogue, feeling bold, leaned in, and paused inches from his ear.
"Because, I think you saw something you liked when you found out how I looked tonight. Hot enough for you, sugar?"
He applied the brakes roughly. Rogue's body jerked forwards a few inches, and then back into her own side of the car.
"We're home," he announced in a gruff tone, leaving the car as quickly as he could. By time Rogue got out, he was already heading inside the mansion.
"Rogue one, Logan zip," she murmured to herself, triumphantly.
Sunday nights in the mansion were dreaded by the male inhabitants who prized the rec room as their sanctuary, especially during football season. By now, the whole ritual was like going through the motions. The mock struggle they put on as several odd teenage girls shoved them off of the couches with brute strength, to the loud protests they made as they retreated, off to find a different television set on which they could watch their precious games.
Sunday night was "Heathers" night for the girls of the school. Down the stairs they would march, all clad in their various forms of sleepwear, all clutching bowls of ice cream, and one liter bottles of Diet Coke.
Their eager faces would be glued to the screen as they viewed what they called "The Greatest Story Ever Told, with bombs and a young Christian Slater". The boys who were brave enough to stay behind during this ritual told the others of their mentally scarring experience with vivid details:
"They were all reciting the lines as the movie went on...but it was spooky because they did it all in this weird monotone voice, and they wouldn't blink! They wouldn't blink! Why, God, why?"
"I hear that's not Diet Coke they have in their bottles...its draining fluid!"
"That is some freaky Jim Jones shit!"
None of the boys seemed to realize that draining fluid was blue.
Remy wandered into the rec room by accident one night, and the screen caught his attention.
"I love this movie."
All of their heads turned rapidly in unison, looks of astonishment upon their acne-masked faces.
"Y-you like "Heathers"?"
"I'm a no rust build-up kind of man, myself," he replied, provoking a chorus of squeals. An empty spot on the couch suddenly appeared, just for his own personal use.
"Can I braid your hair?" The girl sitting next to him asked shyly, her eyes wide in admiration.
"Sure. I do believe my nails could use buffing as well."
"Well, now you've gone and done it..." Rogue remarked in an amused voice as the girls celebrated the arrival of their new "guinea pig".
After the movie, Rogue and Remy ended being the last two people sitting in the rec room. There was ample space between them on the couch.
"Rogue, the Halloween dance is coming up you know."
"I know."
"I didn't ask anybody yet, cher."
"Yes?"
"I want to take you."
"Yes!"
Rogue's grin nearly broke her face. She gave him a quick hug, and bounded out of the room. Remy felt very satisfied with the answer, considering she said "yes" even with all the makeup the girls had piled on his face in an attempt to make him look like Ziggy Stardust.
End of Chapter
Chapter 4
Authors note: Bad author! I apologize mostly to Debby, because she was really vocal about me not updating for a while. "Heathers" is going to be mentioned in this chapter, and there is going to be a Halloween dance in the chapter after this! Yippee!
"Oh my sweet Jesus, he's going to kill us," Kitty whispered to Jubilee in the most terrified voice she could muster.
"No, Rogue's going to die, she's the lucky one."
"Excuse me ladies, I can hear you, and nobody is going to get tortured, maimed or killed...except maybe the Cajun," Logan explained. His voice was very calm, but also at the same time, nearly vicious.
"I don't recall Rogue telling me that she had a father," said Remy in a mocking tone.
"Oh...Remy...no..." Rogue murmured, placing her hands over her blushing face.
"I think it's time for you all to go home. Rogue, you're coming with me." Thankfully, Logan chose to ignore Remy's smug statement. It didn't stop him from wanting very badly to beat the boy's beautiful face in; his hands were shaking from that nearly overwhelming urge.
Remy stepped closer to Logan, his anger rising.
"I don't think-"
"Remy, believe us, just let it be," Kitty interrupted, pulling Remy away from the danger zone that was Logan's personal space.
Rogue was silently thankful that Logan had not taken the motorcycle with him for this little "Rogue retrieving" adventure. That was probably due to the fact that Scott had hidden it not long after Logan had returned from Canada. During Scott's lesser moments of mourning for Jean, he gloated that Logan would be looking for the bike until the day he died, because Scott had picked the most perfect place of all to stash it.
"The lunatic probably has it in his closet," Rogue had mumbled as she left her teacher in the hall, smiling over his spur of genius.
"You shouldn't have let him kiss you," Logan said quietly, as they drove along home. Rogue rolled her eyes from the passenger side of the Focus, Logan's vehicle of choice.
"Nothing happened, Logan."
"Something could've happened."
"Maybe not. I've been working on controlling my power, and it's turning out pretty well."
"That's not what I was talking about."
"You're not my father."
"Damn right I'm not you're father."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Shit. She suspected something. Logan's brain coughed up a fairly lame cover-up.
"I don't like your father."
Rogue just smiled.
"Don't smile. I'm still pretty mad at you."
Her smile faded.
"Why? Because I have a boyfriend whose not afraid to touch me? Jealous, are you?"
"That's sick, darlin', why would I be jealous?"
Rogue, feeling bold, leaned in, and paused inches from his ear.
"Because, I think you saw something you liked when you found out how I looked tonight. Hot enough for you, sugar?"
He applied the brakes roughly. Rogue's body jerked forwards a few inches, and then back into her own side of the car.
"We're home," he announced in a gruff tone, leaving the car as quickly as he could. By time Rogue got out, he was already heading inside the mansion.
"Rogue one, Logan zip," she murmured to herself, triumphantly.
Sunday nights in the mansion were dreaded by the male inhabitants who prized the rec room as their sanctuary, especially during football season. By now, the whole ritual was like going through the motions. The mock struggle they put on as several odd teenage girls shoved them off of the couches with brute strength, to the loud protests they made as they retreated, off to find a different television set on which they could watch their precious games.
Sunday night was "Heathers" night for the girls of the school. Down the stairs they would march, all clad in their various forms of sleepwear, all clutching bowls of ice cream, and one liter bottles of Diet Coke.
Their eager faces would be glued to the screen as they viewed what they called "The Greatest Story Ever Told, with bombs and a young Christian Slater". The boys who were brave enough to stay behind during this ritual told the others of their mentally scarring experience with vivid details:
"They were all reciting the lines as the movie went on...but it was spooky because they did it all in this weird monotone voice, and they wouldn't blink! They wouldn't blink! Why, God, why?"
"I hear that's not Diet Coke they have in their bottles...its draining fluid!"
"That is some freaky Jim Jones shit!"
None of the boys seemed to realize that draining fluid was blue.
Remy wandered into the rec room by accident one night, and the screen caught his attention.
"I love this movie."
All of their heads turned rapidly in unison, looks of astonishment upon their acne-masked faces.
"Y-you like "Heathers"?"
"I'm a no rust build-up kind of man, myself," he replied, provoking a chorus of squeals. An empty spot on the couch suddenly appeared, just for his own personal use.
"Can I braid your hair?" The girl sitting next to him asked shyly, her eyes wide in admiration.
"Sure. I do believe my nails could use buffing as well."
"Well, now you've gone and done it..." Rogue remarked in an amused voice as the girls celebrated the arrival of their new "guinea pig".
After the movie, Rogue and Remy ended being the last two people sitting in the rec room. There was ample space between them on the couch.
"Rogue, the Halloween dance is coming up you know."
"I know."
"I didn't ask anybody yet, cher."
"Yes?"
"I want to take you."
"Yes!"
Rogue's grin nearly broke her face. She gave him a quick hug, and bounded out of the room. Remy felt very satisfied with the answer, considering she said "yes" even with all the makeup the girls had piled on his face in an attempt to make him look like Ziggy Stardust.
End of Chapter