* * *
Ah hung around the mansion for a couple days. Some of the smaller chunks Ah could lift myself. Ah don't know when Ah decided ta go back to Trask ta find the others an' Ah certainly didn't stop ta think about how Ah had no idea where ta start lookin'. Or how ta start either. All Ah knew was Ah needed weapons.big ones. Funny how things happen--four months before Ah don't think Ah'd have lifted a finger for any of them, but right then Ah was willin' ta risk my own life for th' Blob?
That o' course was th' exact moment when he walked over top of the hill. For a minute Ah thought Ah'd fallen asleep and was dreamin' him up.
Nightmare more like.
Even when he thought no one was watchin' he swaggered. All of my good feelin's flew outta the window. Ah wanted ta wrap my fingers around his neck, feel his skin before he passed out. Even now Ah'm not sure if my motives were only homicidal. Sometimes, skin on skin seems like the defining goal of my life, like push comes to shove and nothin' else is as important. Ah took off my gloves and reached into the rubble. A broken bit of pipe makes a nasty weapon.
He wasn't expectin' me. Ah'm good at bein' sneaky. My power is just touch and if Ah don't get close enough ta touch there's no use in it. Ah used the fence and tree line for cover, went in low, thankful for all the hours with Logan in th' danger room. Ah won't say Ah'm the best fighter of the x- men, but top five percent an' damn proud of it.
Ah swept the pipe into the back o' his knees and he went down like he was wet clay.
"Putain (fucking hell)!" Ah'm not sure what happened next, he seemed ta twist in the air and Ah saw a flash outta the corner of my eye. My own legs went out and Ah landed hard on my ass. Seems he hit th' ground harder than Ah did though. When Ah looked, he was on his front, not movin'.
"Hey," Ah said, standing and brushing myself off. Ah'm not stupid. Ah still didn't trust the bastard farther than Ah could throw him. I figured he was fakin' on me. His staff was lyin' right next ta him on the grass and Ah toed it away. "Hey, get up! Ah'm not fallin' for it." Ah shuffled closer, poked him with my toe. Nothing. Gingerly, Ah rolled him over, still expecting something dramatic.
Ah shoulda realized that life rarely gives ya the dramatic you're expectin'. He was out cold: bump on the side o' his forehead and a little trickle of blood down his face. It wasn't a bad face, Ah hope Ah've made that clear (Ah'm not made of stone), but all the frustrations an' worry of the past few days all crashed down on my head and Ah kicked him. Not hard, but not too gently either.
Then Ah helped him o' course, but ya understand why Ah had ta kick him first? He was a lot heavier than he looked, then again he looked ta me then like a skinny son of a bitch too cocky for his own good. Even unconscious his mouth had a smirk to it. Ah was mad at myself for findin' that interesting.
Ah dragged him to the tree line and propped him against the trunk o' an old maple. Ah was careful not ta touch his skin, towin' him by his collar like he was a damn dog. He fussed a little, just like a kid. Ah put my gloves back on, squatted in front o' him and patted his face gently with the back of my hand.
"Hey you, wake up. Wake up."
Ah didn't think he'd actually listen. When his eyes snapped open all at once, Ah let out a hoarse yelp and jumped away from him.
"Oo yee-yi (ouch)!" At least his vocal chords had recovered. Ah felt better. Not that Ah regretted knocking him out, exactly. Now Ah figured Ah had a whole other set o' problems. Ah hadn't heard him speak any English yet an' my French is best described as creative.
"Comment tu t'appele (what is your name)?" Ah asked haltingly. My tongue was fumbling over th' words. Ah felt angry again. The situation was out of my control. He smiled. "Well aren't ya gonna say something?" Nothing. Just that grin. "Ooh!" Ah shoved him in the chest and stalked away.
"Actually, beb (sweetheart), I was havin' a bit too much fun listening t' you. Good t'ing my English is better den your French or we have a problem, neh?"
"Barely better," Ah grumbled.
He continued like he hadn't heard me. He touched his head with a rueful look. "Good t'ing I got de tete dure (hard head) or we have a problem. Dat's a nice hickey (lump on the head) you give me." He stood then but fell down just as quickly.
"Are ya always this stupid?" Ah helped him ta his feet an' even though he tried ta look suave he was leaning hard into my shoulder. Together we started walkin' toward the mansion.
He flashed me a smile that was both strained an' dazzlin'. Ah felt my breath catch and hoped he hadn't noticed. "Are you always dis charming?"
"Only if the guy is really special."
"I'm flattered, beb."
"Ah wish you'd stop callin' me that."
"D'you know what it means?"
"Nothin' good Ah'm sure."
He shrugged. "Comment tu t'appele?" The words sounded much more at home on his lips.
"Rogue. You?"
"Remy. You got a last name, chère?"
"No. You?"
"LeBeau." He tried a little bow, but Ah held him back. Ah wasn't about ta hoist him on his feet again. "You weren't expecting t' see me here."
"Ah wasn't expecting ta see ya ever." His lips on my lips. Ah could feel my face gettin' hot. "Except in my nightmares."
"Or maybe your dreams." He raised one eyebrow and Ah became fascinated with something just over his left shoulder. He shrugged again. Ah was beginning ta hate the habit. "'S okay. I thought you were dead."
"Thanks for th' vote o' confidence," Ah gritted.
He laughed an' Ah told myself Ah shouldn't find it charming. "Ca c'est bon (that's good) dat you're here! Nice t' know I wasn't wrong 'bout you."
"And what did ya decide about me?" We'd reached the outskirts of the wreckage and sat on a chunk o' concrete.
"Dat you might be almost as stubborn as me."
* * *
Dere's not much in de world t' surprise me, but Rogue did when she left me sitting on de concrete and went back t' de house. Open permission t' escape. Fo' awhile I stared at de rubble. Dere's something especially sad 'bout a house dat's been destroyed, as if all de ideas of all de people who ever lived dere been killed.
Look at me, de high and mighty philosopher! First, I was only wondering how badly I'd have to hurt Rogue t' get away, it was only after she left me on my own dat I wondered what might be dere for her dat she didn't want t' leave.
"Where ya going, beb?" I saw her shoulders tense. Was too easy to annoy her, but I couldn't leave it alone for de life o' me. What can I say? T'ief dat I am, trained t' be silent, dere's still a part of me dat wants all de attention, especially from a belle femme. A game of chance, de best one in de world: dey t'ink de're getting your heart, dey give you deres and poof.all gone. De King o' Hearts.
"Ah have ta look for weapons. Ah have ta rescue my friends."
"Vraisemblablement (most likely) your friends dead, chère. C'est la vie but you're wasting your time." Figured it was time for de girl t' face reality.
Dat was de wrong t'ing t' say. Rogue came at me like a bat outta hell, gray eyes dark and wide and shooting sparks straight t'rough me. Dere was a moment when I wondered what her power was. Dere was a moment when I wondered if dat would be de last t'ing I wondered.
"Shut th' hell up!" She clocked me good and my head snapped back. Somet'ing cracked and multicolored stars burst in front of my eyes like de Fourth o' July. "God, don't ya ever shut up?" I heard de waver in her voice. My jaw stung where she'd hit me. Girl was bad news. Every instinct dat I had told me not to look at her. I looked anyway, mebbe for de perversity of it, mebbe I started growin' a conscience after 20 minutes wit her, who 'm I t' say? She was on all fours on de ground; her tangled hair covered her face. I dropped down, lurching wit nausea--too much head trauma in one day scramble de brain, non? I pushed her hair away. Her face was red and shiny wit sweat, her mascara flaked into de dark circles under her eyes, she was crying silently in anger and exhaustion. Ga lee (wow), in dat moment she was de most beautiful t'ing I ever saw. Dere was somet'ing Jean-Luc said dat I never could understand: man chase a woman until she catches him. Never knew how dat might be so until I saw dat face. Always thought dat a man had de choice t' keep runnin'.
"Don't cry, chère." She folded herself into a sitting position, edged away. I reached out and touched her hair, expecting t' have my hand bitten off. T'inking mebbe it was worth it anyway.
She wiped her eyes roughly wit de back of her hand. "Ah'm not cryin'."
"Dere's a Cajun saying: lache pas la patate."
She sniffed. "What does that mean?"
"Don't let go of de potato. Never give up. Myself, I'm a capo (coward) but you--lache pas la patate, beb."
Den.
Merde, dis is embarrassing.
I dropped my hand from her head, threw up on de grass and passed out.
Couldn't have been out for more den a couple minutes, but when I woke up Rogue was brushing my face wit a damp cloth. I saw dat she'd torn off a part of de uniform she was wearing.
"How romantic," I mumbled.
She shook her head. "You're crazy. You've probably got a concussion. Ya should see a doctor."
"Ain't got no time for doctors, chère."
"Why not? Th' nearest hospital is just."
"Be time for dat after we rescue your friends." Dat shut her up quick. She sat dere wit her mouth open. Drops o' water splashed onto my face from de cloth. "Dat mouth be good for catchin' flies, non?" I raised my hand t' tap her cheek.
She twisted away from me. "Weapons. We need weapons." At first I thought dat she was just gonna leave me dere again, but she came back quickly wit my staff, dropped it on de ground next t' me.
Ah hung around the mansion for a couple days. Some of the smaller chunks Ah could lift myself. Ah don't know when Ah decided ta go back to Trask ta find the others an' Ah certainly didn't stop ta think about how Ah had no idea where ta start lookin'. Or how ta start either. All Ah knew was Ah needed weapons.big ones. Funny how things happen--four months before Ah don't think Ah'd have lifted a finger for any of them, but right then Ah was willin' ta risk my own life for th' Blob?
That o' course was th' exact moment when he walked over top of the hill. For a minute Ah thought Ah'd fallen asleep and was dreamin' him up.
Nightmare more like.
Even when he thought no one was watchin' he swaggered. All of my good feelin's flew outta the window. Ah wanted ta wrap my fingers around his neck, feel his skin before he passed out. Even now Ah'm not sure if my motives were only homicidal. Sometimes, skin on skin seems like the defining goal of my life, like push comes to shove and nothin' else is as important. Ah took off my gloves and reached into the rubble. A broken bit of pipe makes a nasty weapon.
He wasn't expectin' me. Ah'm good at bein' sneaky. My power is just touch and if Ah don't get close enough ta touch there's no use in it. Ah used the fence and tree line for cover, went in low, thankful for all the hours with Logan in th' danger room. Ah won't say Ah'm the best fighter of the x- men, but top five percent an' damn proud of it.
Ah swept the pipe into the back o' his knees and he went down like he was wet clay.
"Putain (fucking hell)!" Ah'm not sure what happened next, he seemed ta twist in the air and Ah saw a flash outta the corner of my eye. My own legs went out and Ah landed hard on my ass. Seems he hit th' ground harder than Ah did though. When Ah looked, he was on his front, not movin'.
"Hey," Ah said, standing and brushing myself off. Ah'm not stupid. Ah still didn't trust the bastard farther than Ah could throw him. I figured he was fakin' on me. His staff was lyin' right next ta him on the grass and Ah toed it away. "Hey, get up! Ah'm not fallin' for it." Ah shuffled closer, poked him with my toe. Nothing. Gingerly, Ah rolled him over, still expecting something dramatic.
Ah shoulda realized that life rarely gives ya the dramatic you're expectin'. He was out cold: bump on the side o' his forehead and a little trickle of blood down his face. It wasn't a bad face, Ah hope Ah've made that clear (Ah'm not made of stone), but all the frustrations an' worry of the past few days all crashed down on my head and Ah kicked him. Not hard, but not too gently either.
Then Ah helped him o' course, but ya understand why Ah had ta kick him first? He was a lot heavier than he looked, then again he looked ta me then like a skinny son of a bitch too cocky for his own good. Even unconscious his mouth had a smirk to it. Ah was mad at myself for findin' that interesting.
Ah dragged him to the tree line and propped him against the trunk o' an old maple. Ah was careful not ta touch his skin, towin' him by his collar like he was a damn dog. He fussed a little, just like a kid. Ah put my gloves back on, squatted in front o' him and patted his face gently with the back of my hand.
"Hey you, wake up. Wake up."
Ah didn't think he'd actually listen. When his eyes snapped open all at once, Ah let out a hoarse yelp and jumped away from him.
"Oo yee-yi (ouch)!" At least his vocal chords had recovered. Ah felt better. Not that Ah regretted knocking him out, exactly. Now Ah figured Ah had a whole other set o' problems. Ah hadn't heard him speak any English yet an' my French is best described as creative.
"Comment tu t'appele (what is your name)?" Ah asked haltingly. My tongue was fumbling over th' words. Ah felt angry again. The situation was out of my control. He smiled. "Well aren't ya gonna say something?" Nothing. Just that grin. "Ooh!" Ah shoved him in the chest and stalked away.
"Actually, beb (sweetheart), I was havin' a bit too much fun listening t' you. Good t'ing my English is better den your French or we have a problem, neh?"
"Barely better," Ah grumbled.
He continued like he hadn't heard me. He touched his head with a rueful look. "Good t'ing I got de tete dure (hard head) or we have a problem. Dat's a nice hickey (lump on the head) you give me." He stood then but fell down just as quickly.
"Are ya always this stupid?" Ah helped him ta his feet an' even though he tried ta look suave he was leaning hard into my shoulder. Together we started walkin' toward the mansion.
He flashed me a smile that was both strained an' dazzlin'. Ah felt my breath catch and hoped he hadn't noticed. "Are you always dis charming?"
"Only if the guy is really special."
"I'm flattered, beb."
"Ah wish you'd stop callin' me that."
"D'you know what it means?"
"Nothin' good Ah'm sure."
He shrugged. "Comment tu t'appele?" The words sounded much more at home on his lips.
"Rogue. You?"
"Remy. You got a last name, chère?"
"No. You?"
"LeBeau." He tried a little bow, but Ah held him back. Ah wasn't about ta hoist him on his feet again. "You weren't expecting t' see me here."
"Ah wasn't expecting ta see ya ever." His lips on my lips. Ah could feel my face gettin' hot. "Except in my nightmares."
"Or maybe your dreams." He raised one eyebrow and Ah became fascinated with something just over his left shoulder. He shrugged again. Ah was beginning ta hate the habit. "'S okay. I thought you were dead."
"Thanks for th' vote o' confidence," Ah gritted.
He laughed an' Ah told myself Ah shouldn't find it charming. "Ca c'est bon (that's good) dat you're here! Nice t' know I wasn't wrong 'bout you."
"And what did ya decide about me?" We'd reached the outskirts of the wreckage and sat on a chunk o' concrete.
"Dat you might be almost as stubborn as me."
* * *
Dere's not much in de world t' surprise me, but Rogue did when she left me sitting on de concrete and went back t' de house. Open permission t' escape. Fo' awhile I stared at de rubble. Dere's something especially sad 'bout a house dat's been destroyed, as if all de ideas of all de people who ever lived dere been killed.
Look at me, de high and mighty philosopher! First, I was only wondering how badly I'd have to hurt Rogue t' get away, it was only after she left me on my own dat I wondered what might be dere for her dat she didn't want t' leave.
"Where ya going, beb?" I saw her shoulders tense. Was too easy to annoy her, but I couldn't leave it alone for de life o' me. What can I say? T'ief dat I am, trained t' be silent, dere's still a part of me dat wants all de attention, especially from a belle femme. A game of chance, de best one in de world: dey t'ink de're getting your heart, dey give you deres and poof.all gone. De King o' Hearts.
"Ah have ta look for weapons. Ah have ta rescue my friends."
"Vraisemblablement (most likely) your friends dead, chère. C'est la vie but you're wasting your time." Figured it was time for de girl t' face reality.
Dat was de wrong t'ing t' say. Rogue came at me like a bat outta hell, gray eyes dark and wide and shooting sparks straight t'rough me. Dere was a moment when I wondered what her power was. Dere was a moment when I wondered if dat would be de last t'ing I wondered.
"Shut th' hell up!" She clocked me good and my head snapped back. Somet'ing cracked and multicolored stars burst in front of my eyes like de Fourth o' July. "God, don't ya ever shut up?" I heard de waver in her voice. My jaw stung where she'd hit me. Girl was bad news. Every instinct dat I had told me not to look at her. I looked anyway, mebbe for de perversity of it, mebbe I started growin' a conscience after 20 minutes wit her, who 'm I t' say? She was on all fours on de ground; her tangled hair covered her face. I dropped down, lurching wit nausea--too much head trauma in one day scramble de brain, non? I pushed her hair away. Her face was red and shiny wit sweat, her mascara flaked into de dark circles under her eyes, she was crying silently in anger and exhaustion. Ga lee (wow), in dat moment she was de most beautiful t'ing I ever saw. Dere was somet'ing Jean-Luc said dat I never could understand: man chase a woman until she catches him. Never knew how dat might be so until I saw dat face. Always thought dat a man had de choice t' keep runnin'.
"Don't cry, chère." She folded herself into a sitting position, edged away. I reached out and touched her hair, expecting t' have my hand bitten off. T'inking mebbe it was worth it anyway.
She wiped her eyes roughly wit de back of her hand. "Ah'm not cryin'."
"Dere's a Cajun saying: lache pas la patate."
She sniffed. "What does that mean?"
"Don't let go of de potato. Never give up. Myself, I'm a capo (coward) but you--lache pas la patate, beb."
Den.
Merde, dis is embarrassing.
I dropped my hand from her head, threw up on de grass and passed out.
Couldn't have been out for more den a couple minutes, but when I woke up Rogue was brushing my face wit a damp cloth. I saw dat she'd torn off a part of de uniform she was wearing.
"How romantic," I mumbled.
She shook her head. "You're crazy. You've probably got a concussion. Ya should see a doctor."
"Ain't got no time for doctors, chère."
"Why not? Th' nearest hospital is just."
"Be time for dat after we rescue your friends." Dat shut her up quick. She sat dere wit her mouth open. Drops o' water splashed onto my face from de cloth. "Dat mouth be good for catchin' flies, non?" I raised my hand t' tap her cheek.
She twisted away from me. "Weapons. We need weapons." At first I thought dat she was just gonna leave me dere again, but she came back quickly wit my staff, dropped it on de ground next t' me.