My Heart in Your Hands
by Princess of Monkeys
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: So a nun, a rabbi, and a blonde all walk into a bar....
A/N: I'm just making up geography for this part, because I have no idea where Bayville is supposed to be in relation to New York City. And I don't know if there are main highways, or what they're called, if they're freeways or whatever- I'm from California, never even been to New York! So if I'm screwing it up royally, someone please tell me! And yes, there will be Rogue-Remy-ness soon; but I'm a mean author and I want to do all this plot development stuff first. It'll be in a few more chapters, I promise! Keep reading!
Remy woke early the next morning. He was one of those lucky people with an accurate internal clock- he hadn't had to use an alarm in years. No one else was awake yet, and he slipped quietly out of the warehouse. Putting a small white envelope carefully in his coat pocket, he put on his sunglasses and rode to the nearest flower shop.
A few minutes later, he was in and out of the shop, holding a red rose with a satisfied smile. He wanted there to be no confusion about his intentions- paler flowers might be for friendship, but red was for romance. Placing the rose carefully in one of the empty saddlebags, he rode towards the school, trying to quantify his emotions.
As he rode through the chill morning air, he wondered _is this really love? How can it be, when I don't know her at all?_ Magneto's file had given him only the most basic information about her background, and even most of that was still a mystery. All he really had were his own guesses from spying on her so much, and the quick glimpse into her journal. It wasn't a lot to go on, and he almost started doubting himself.
Yet, when he thought about Belladonna, things were completely different. He'd known his ex-fiancé well- almost too well- and had never felt anything remotely like this for her. He had definitely felt obligation, duty and friendship towards her, and there had even been a healthy measure of attraction- she was nothing if not beautiful- but he'd never been unable to get her out of his head, like with Rogue. Bella had just been there, an irrefutable part of his future, someone and something to just accept; but Rogue was his choice.
The question was, would he be hers?
Remy knew exactly where all of Rogue's classes were- Mystique had been useful for a few things after all. He picked the lock on the door of her first period classroom, and stepped inside, careful to move across the floor soundlessly. It wouldn't do to get careless and have some janitor come in and ruin everything. He thought for a moment, figuring perspective in his minds eye, trying to pinpoint which desk was hers. Looking in from the window was a completely different view than actually standing in the classroom, but he finally found the right desk, setting down the envelope and placing the rose down gently atop it.
As he left the classroom, he looked up- and froze. _It's that red head- the telekinetic one- what's her name... Jean! Did she see me?_ Jean, however, was intent upon her own purposes, and didn't notice Remy standing motionless in the shadows only a few feet away from her. She disappeared into a classroom up the hall, and he let out a sigh of relief. Jean was the attack first, ask questions later type, and he highly doubted that Rogue would much want to see him that night if he had to fight one of her teammates in the morning.
Remy quickly left the school, personal errand finished. He would be back later to check on her, but now he was on Magneto's time. No matter his doubts, he still worked for the man, and he'd never let anyone say he tried to shirk his responsibilities. Catching the main highway south, he headed towards the distinctive skyline of the city. _Anti-mutant rallies are such fun early in the morning,_ he thought sarcastically.
Hours later, he felt disgusted. Listening to anti-mutant propaganda always made him feel so polluted and unclean. This morning's assignment had been especially enjoyable- anti-mutant protesters had camped out in front of one of the glass-walled TV studios, waving their banners and chanting their slogans, and the young leader of the Friends of Humanity had come down from their headquarters in Albany to make a speech. His speech had been full of anti-mutant slurs and impassioned rhetoric, calling for immediate quarantine of all known mutants, mandatory registration and testing of all newborn children, and new laws to "prosecute the abominations for their crimes against humanity!" The rally had been so big that several news stations had done features on it, reporting live from the scene, thereby giving the Friends of Humanity national exposure, and Remy was sure every city would be clamoring to have its own chapter of the organization by day's end. The worst part, though, had been some of the pictures they'd had taped up to their banners. They had obviously come from the original news footage of the Sentinel fight, and they showed pictures of the X-Men with targets painted on them. When he'd seen the ones of the rest of the team, it hadn't really affected him, but when he'd seen a man carrying a sign with Rogue painted to look like a target, his blood had boiled, and he'd nearly blown his cover.
Riding up the highway back to Bayville, he tried to let the unpleasant memories float away in the wind. He'd have to report to Magneto soon enough, but there was no reason to think more on all of it than he had to. Too bad the wind couldn't similarly carry off the lingering filth that was Graydon Creed.
In his mid-twenties, Creed was a mystery. Nothing was really known about his past, other than that he'd spent all of his childhood in the foster care system, but beyond that, he was a complete unknown. Sometimes Remy wondered what had happened to him to make him hate mutants so much, to drive him to create his organization. Either way, mysterious past or not, the man was an exceptional orator, able to get crowds to hang on his every word, and he had such enormous sway over his followers that he was a grave danger to mutants everywhere. It wasn't pleasant to think about.
When Remy arrived back at Bayville High, he parked his bike in a teacher's lot (less conspicuous that way), and headed for his usual spying tree. Leaping up to catch a low hanging branch, he pulled himself up and perched on it, looking over at the bleachers.
He could see her sitting there, headphones on, head bent over as she wrote in her black book. He could see the rose sticking out of her backpack, and he smiled- she had gotten his message. But his smile disappeared when she raised her head, and he could see that she looked upset, even slightly sad.
His heart skipped a beat. _Was I wrong? But she kept the rose..._ He watched as the girl with the perpetual ponytail came up and tried to talk to her, and he noticed how Rogue completely shut her out, first ignoring her, then yelling at her. When the bell rang, Rogue grabbed her bag and ran, leaving Kitty and Remy both with identical feelings of helplessness.
by Princess of Monkeys
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: So a nun, a rabbi, and a blonde all walk into a bar....
A/N: I'm just making up geography for this part, because I have no idea where Bayville is supposed to be in relation to New York City. And I don't know if there are main highways, or what they're called, if they're freeways or whatever- I'm from California, never even been to New York! So if I'm screwing it up royally, someone please tell me! And yes, there will be Rogue-Remy-ness soon; but I'm a mean author and I want to do all this plot development stuff first. It'll be in a few more chapters, I promise! Keep reading!
Remy woke early the next morning. He was one of those lucky people with an accurate internal clock- he hadn't had to use an alarm in years. No one else was awake yet, and he slipped quietly out of the warehouse. Putting a small white envelope carefully in his coat pocket, he put on his sunglasses and rode to the nearest flower shop.
A few minutes later, he was in and out of the shop, holding a red rose with a satisfied smile. He wanted there to be no confusion about his intentions- paler flowers might be for friendship, but red was for romance. Placing the rose carefully in one of the empty saddlebags, he rode towards the school, trying to quantify his emotions.
As he rode through the chill morning air, he wondered _is this really love? How can it be, when I don't know her at all?_ Magneto's file had given him only the most basic information about her background, and even most of that was still a mystery. All he really had were his own guesses from spying on her so much, and the quick glimpse into her journal. It wasn't a lot to go on, and he almost started doubting himself.
Yet, when he thought about Belladonna, things were completely different. He'd known his ex-fiancé well- almost too well- and had never felt anything remotely like this for her. He had definitely felt obligation, duty and friendship towards her, and there had even been a healthy measure of attraction- she was nothing if not beautiful- but he'd never been unable to get her out of his head, like with Rogue. Bella had just been there, an irrefutable part of his future, someone and something to just accept; but Rogue was his choice.
The question was, would he be hers?
Remy knew exactly where all of Rogue's classes were- Mystique had been useful for a few things after all. He picked the lock on the door of her first period classroom, and stepped inside, careful to move across the floor soundlessly. It wouldn't do to get careless and have some janitor come in and ruin everything. He thought for a moment, figuring perspective in his minds eye, trying to pinpoint which desk was hers. Looking in from the window was a completely different view than actually standing in the classroom, but he finally found the right desk, setting down the envelope and placing the rose down gently atop it.
As he left the classroom, he looked up- and froze. _It's that red head- the telekinetic one- what's her name... Jean! Did she see me?_ Jean, however, was intent upon her own purposes, and didn't notice Remy standing motionless in the shadows only a few feet away from her. She disappeared into a classroom up the hall, and he let out a sigh of relief. Jean was the attack first, ask questions later type, and he highly doubted that Rogue would much want to see him that night if he had to fight one of her teammates in the morning.
Remy quickly left the school, personal errand finished. He would be back later to check on her, but now he was on Magneto's time. No matter his doubts, he still worked for the man, and he'd never let anyone say he tried to shirk his responsibilities. Catching the main highway south, he headed towards the distinctive skyline of the city. _Anti-mutant rallies are such fun early in the morning,_ he thought sarcastically.
Hours later, he felt disgusted. Listening to anti-mutant propaganda always made him feel so polluted and unclean. This morning's assignment had been especially enjoyable- anti-mutant protesters had camped out in front of one of the glass-walled TV studios, waving their banners and chanting their slogans, and the young leader of the Friends of Humanity had come down from their headquarters in Albany to make a speech. His speech had been full of anti-mutant slurs and impassioned rhetoric, calling for immediate quarantine of all known mutants, mandatory registration and testing of all newborn children, and new laws to "prosecute the abominations for their crimes against humanity!" The rally had been so big that several news stations had done features on it, reporting live from the scene, thereby giving the Friends of Humanity national exposure, and Remy was sure every city would be clamoring to have its own chapter of the organization by day's end. The worst part, though, had been some of the pictures they'd had taped up to their banners. They had obviously come from the original news footage of the Sentinel fight, and they showed pictures of the X-Men with targets painted on them. When he'd seen the ones of the rest of the team, it hadn't really affected him, but when he'd seen a man carrying a sign with Rogue painted to look like a target, his blood had boiled, and he'd nearly blown his cover.
Riding up the highway back to Bayville, he tried to let the unpleasant memories float away in the wind. He'd have to report to Magneto soon enough, but there was no reason to think more on all of it than he had to. Too bad the wind couldn't similarly carry off the lingering filth that was Graydon Creed.
In his mid-twenties, Creed was a mystery. Nothing was really known about his past, other than that he'd spent all of his childhood in the foster care system, but beyond that, he was a complete unknown. Sometimes Remy wondered what had happened to him to make him hate mutants so much, to drive him to create his organization. Either way, mysterious past or not, the man was an exceptional orator, able to get crowds to hang on his every word, and he had such enormous sway over his followers that he was a grave danger to mutants everywhere. It wasn't pleasant to think about.
When Remy arrived back at Bayville High, he parked his bike in a teacher's lot (less conspicuous that way), and headed for his usual spying tree. Leaping up to catch a low hanging branch, he pulled himself up and perched on it, looking over at the bleachers.
He could see her sitting there, headphones on, head bent over as she wrote in her black book. He could see the rose sticking out of her backpack, and he smiled- she had gotten his message. But his smile disappeared when she raised her head, and he could see that she looked upset, even slightly sad.
His heart skipped a beat. _Was I wrong? But she kept the rose..._ He watched as the girl with the perpetual ponytail came up and tried to talk to her, and he noticed how Rogue completely shut her out, first ignoring her, then yelling at her. When the bell rang, Rogue grabbed her bag and ran, leaving Kitty and Remy both with identical feelings of helplessness.