Disclaimer: No, I don't own or are making any money off of any of the Marvel characters. Period.
Notes: I haven't written in a while, partly due to the fact that my computer has been acting like a piece of crap, so don't kill me if this totally sucks.
Rating: Pg-13 ...just because.
Notes on the story: I was bored, and it's not a fully developed concept yet, I'm hoping I can make it into something awesome. This is also told in Rogue's pov.
***
Chapter 1
On the space ship Galaxia.
My head was pounding and I didn't have a clue as to why. Scratch that. I did know why. A part of my heart was being ripped out as I sat here and watched. There was nothing I could do. It made me feel so weak, and I'm not weak.
I raise a hand, pale and seemingly fragile up to my auburn and tresses, mussing them up and making the swirl of white lay atop the silken strands. Both hands on either side of me on the little cot I use as a bed, I stand and walk closer to the large window in the cabin of the ship.
Bright and brilliant stars litter the view, and in the distance off to the right there's the faint glimmer of Jupiter, with the swirling storm of amber and gold that it is most famous for. On any ordinary day, the scene would be breathtaking, and one in a million. Sure, I go on these little missions all the time, but each and every picture is different.
Pound. Can't get a moment's piece. The two ships in the middle of the such a scene is what has me worried. For all any outsider can tell, it's just a couple of old friends who stopped for a chat. Yeah, right. On that ship, right now is my husband. Remy Lebeau. He's been there for over an hour, and negotiations were only suppose to take thirty minutes.
We're both a part of an elite group on Earth called the X-Men. The planet's finest extraterrestrial round up, clean up, and back up group.
It didn't always used to be this way though. Humans used to hate us. Tried to kill us even. Other mutants too. But then something happened that changed their opinion probably forever. Funny how it takes a crisis to get people to see you're not the bad guy, huh?
It was about seven years ago, we were in a battle with our one time enemy Magneto when this huge burst of light filled the sky. Anyone looking up at the sky that day was blinded forever, including our teammate Jean Grey, the rest of us it was only temporary. That flash of light was the arrival of a new race. Almost identical to our own. Just like all baddies, they wanted to take over Earth and enslave mankind as a whole. And of course, we were there to stop them. To make a long story short, "The Battle to End All Battles" was fought, we won, they lost and there were no more differences between humans and mutants. Sure it was a lot bigger than that, but going into detail now would be pointless. We didn't do it alone though, our team linked up with Magneto's Brotherhood and we all helped each other out. Lives were saved, and lives were lost, and alliances were formed. It changed every one of us. Even me.
The team now consists of Professor Charles Xavier as the head, Remy Lebeau as the team captain, Me, Rogue Lebeau as second in command, Dr. Hank McCoy as our resident doctor, Scott Summers, deceased, Jean Grey, blinded, but still in action as the second most powerful telepath in the World, Jubilation Lee, Ororo Munroe, and Logan.
A loud explosion jolts the ship, and I stumble, nearly falling to my knees with the surprise of it all. My eyes lift and search the space, now illuminated with rolling flames for our ship. They widen and I can feel the color draining from my face, my hands get tremors in them and I run over to the com unit that connects all of the ships.
"Remy! Are ya there? Answah me, dammit!" I can tell that I'm trying to sound tough, but it isn't working, as my voice quakes with my anxiety.
From behind me, the audible whoosh of the airlock door, as someone is obviously entering.
***
Many years ago, in the mansion.
I throw a pillow at Jean's face, and it hits her squarely in the jaw, my voice rings out in a musical laugh and I shake my head, the auburn and white tresses caressing the middle of my back. "He did not get ya that!"
The other girl's laugh erupts shortly after mine, and she holds the pale purple to her chest, knees curling up around it. "He did! And it didn't even fit!"
Valentine's Day. Gotta love it. Jean was telling me her old stories of what Scott had gotten her. Apparently they had gotten into a huge fight and Jean had called him boring, so he went out and bought her edible underwear. Jean nearly passed out from laughing so hard. Good ol' Scotty blushed and rebounded with a handful of daisy's ...might as well stick to what he's good at.
The only reason I'm being all social and buddy, buddy with Jeannie is that I need some kind of idea of what to get Remy. What do you get a guy that has everything? We've only been "officially" dating for about a month now, so what's enough? Gah, I hate this stupid holiday.
"What do ya think 'bout a necklace?"
Jean wrinkles her nose, of course she's comparing it to what Scott would like, so I instantly see possibilities for the decision. "I don't know. What kind?"
I curl up on my side of the couch, feeling my eyes go distant as I picture that gorgeous hunk 'a Cajun, tight fitting pants, a shirt open to expose the bronze expanse of his chest...whoah, this wasn't getting me anywhere. I blink a few times and shake my head, rolling my shoulders into a small shrug. "Ah don't know."
Jean wrinkles her pouty lips and stands, adjusting her tiny sleeping shorts and white tank top. She winks at me. "You'll figure something out. But knowing Remy...you'll have something to compete with."
That was my signal to go. Obviously I made the red haired beauty nervous. I was used to it. The only one who wasn't squeamish around me was Remy, and sometimes that wasn't always a good thing. I was getting control of my powers, the Professor said so, and I could feel it. They just were a little temperamental sometimes.
I hop up, no hard feelings, right? My hands fall to my sides. I still wear the elbow length gloves, though the control in my hands is almost impeccable...old habits die hard, eh? The plush, green
terrycloth robe that Remy got me for my birthday gets tied at the waist tightly. It falls to my ankles, but the sleeves are rolled up, so I'm not worried about any extra contact that might happen. Besides, from here it's to the kitchen for a snack, and then hopefully to bed. "Thanks Jeannie, yoah right, good night girl."
I don't wait for her to reply, she's probably brushing her hair out or something, I just walk to the door and open it, quietly exiting.
Cool, and empty, the hall looked perfect, like something out of a movie. It was so clean. I know Xavier hires maids to clean, but I never see them. Even all the pictures are straight. It's almost eerie. My socked feet pad silently past portraits of landscapes and sober looking people in frilly dresses. My lips part and a soft tune escapes them. I couldn't place it if you asked, but it seems oddly familiar all the same. Turning into the kitchen, I flip on the light and head straight for the fridge. Storm was suppose to made some cookies after supper. They'd be cold, but nothing a little microwave wouldn't solve. After retrieving the cookies, I get myself a glass of milk. Can't have cookies if you don't have milk. It's a rule. And not any of that 2% stuff, or low fat. Milk isn't milk unless it's whole.
Mmm...frothy glass, warm cookies. What else could a girl want? Perfect midnight snack.
Of course these things don't ever last long. I inhale deeply, cookies, kitchen, cigarette smoke, and spicy cologne. Two out of four ain't bad. My slight tensing up has no doubt noted him that I know of his presence. But I'm almost willing to bed that if he didn't want me to know he was there, I wouldn't.
A bare sound of feet hitting the floor before I hear that voice. I'm so used to tensing that I forget sometimes that we do go out, and I don't have to dread his presence anymore. "'ey chere."
I feel him before I see or hear him. Feel his fingertips caress the robe lightly, and feel the soft warmth of his breath caress my cheek. He knows my limits and his, because he's pulled back and lounged in a kitchen chair before I can say anything. I'm suddenly not hungry, but thirsty, my mouth has gone dry. He has the tendency to do that to a girl. "Heya there Remy. Haven't see ya all day, whatcha been up to?"
I lean against the table's edge and dip my head ever so slightly so that my hair falls over my shoulder and covers some of my face. I can practically feel his seductive red on black eyes penetrating through. Two can tease I guess. He doesn't move, and if I didn't know better, breathe. "Jus' makin' arrangements chere, ya know how dat is." His voice isn't above a hare's breath.
"Arrangements? Foah what...mahgt Ah ask?" That had my curiosity peaked. I lifted my head, and tucked my hair behind my ear gently, eyes landing on him.
His own red on black eyes seemed to glimmer just a bit, and a smile tugged at his lips. "Now if Remy told ya what it was, it wouldn't be a surprise, chere." He winked at me, and my knees went weak, but my outside resolve held.
"Surprise? What are ya up to Swamp Rat?" My voice sounded affectionate even to me.
He stood up in one fluid motion and moved over to me, getting within a butterfly kiss of my face. I had the urge to pull back, but I controlled it. Had to let him have something. I couldn't always block him out, even though that was what my first instinct was. His eyes, that look. It scared me. Not afraid for my life, scared. Butterflies in my stomach scared. He cared for me so much...but the question was, was I strong enough to care for him back? "How has dat powah control been comin' along, chere?" I knew he deliberately avoided the subject, but I let it go for now.
I swallowed. It just wasn't right for a guy to make one feel so powerless, even though I had more power than most. I forced my voice to steady itself, even though I hadn't said a word. "Almost there." I pull away from him, or else I'd do something we'd both regret, even though he'd say he didn't until the day he died. Going back over to the counter where I set my milk and cookies down, I pick up the glass and take a healthy drink. I can feel even before I turn around that he's gone. I've failed him in some way and it hurts me. But I freeze up, he doesn't know how hard it is, to be afraid to love someone as much as I am afraid to love him.
***
Ya'll tell me how this is, and if I get the right kinda feedback, I may pursue this thing further. In between my busy life, of course. But ya'll don't really miss me. Anyway, reviews, reviews, reviews!
Notes: I haven't written in a while, partly due to the fact that my computer has been acting like a piece of crap, so don't kill me if this totally sucks.
Rating: Pg-13 ...just because.
Notes on the story: I was bored, and it's not a fully developed concept yet, I'm hoping I can make it into something awesome. This is also told in Rogue's pov.
***
Chapter 1
On the space ship Galaxia.
My head was pounding and I didn't have a clue as to why. Scratch that. I did know why. A part of my heart was being ripped out as I sat here and watched. There was nothing I could do. It made me feel so weak, and I'm not weak.
I raise a hand, pale and seemingly fragile up to my auburn and tresses, mussing them up and making the swirl of white lay atop the silken strands. Both hands on either side of me on the little cot I use as a bed, I stand and walk closer to the large window in the cabin of the ship.
Bright and brilliant stars litter the view, and in the distance off to the right there's the faint glimmer of Jupiter, with the swirling storm of amber and gold that it is most famous for. On any ordinary day, the scene would be breathtaking, and one in a million. Sure, I go on these little missions all the time, but each and every picture is different.
Pound. Can't get a moment's piece. The two ships in the middle of the such a scene is what has me worried. For all any outsider can tell, it's just a couple of old friends who stopped for a chat. Yeah, right. On that ship, right now is my husband. Remy Lebeau. He's been there for over an hour, and negotiations were only suppose to take thirty minutes.
We're both a part of an elite group on Earth called the X-Men. The planet's finest extraterrestrial round up, clean up, and back up group.
It didn't always used to be this way though. Humans used to hate us. Tried to kill us even. Other mutants too. But then something happened that changed their opinion probably forever. Funny how it takes a crisis to get people to see you're not the bad guy, huh?
It was about seven years ago, we were in a battle with our one time enemy Magneto when this huge burst of light filled the sky. Anyone looking up at the sky that day was blinded forever, including our teammate Jean Grey, the rest of us it was only temporary. That flash of light was the arrival of a new race. Almost identical to our own. Just like all baddies, they wanted to take over Earth and enslave mankind as a whole. And of course, we were there to stop them. To make a long story short, "The Battle to End All Battles" was fought, we won, they lost and there were no more differences between humans and mutants. Sure it was a lot bigger than that, but going into detail now would be pointless. We didn't do it alone though, our team linked up with Magneto's Brotherhood and we all helped each other out. Lives were saved, and lives were lost, and alliances were formed. It changed every one of us. Even me.
The team now consists of Professor Charles Xavier as the head, Remy Lebeau as the team captain, Me, Rogue Lebeau as second in command, Dr. Hank McCoy as our resident doctor, Scott Summers, deceased, Jean Grey, blinded, but still in action as the second most powerful telepath in the World, Jubilation Lee, Ororo Munroe, and Logan.
A loud explosion jolts the ship, and I stumble, nearly falling to my knees with the surprise of it all. My eyes lift and search the space, now illuminated with rolling flames for our ship. They widen and I can feel the color draining from my face, my hands get tremors in them and I run over to the com unit that connects all of the ships.
"Remy! Are ya there? Answah me, dammit!" I can tell that I'm trying to sound tough, but it isn't working, as my voice quakes with my anxiety.
From behind me, the audible whoosh of the airlock door, as someone is obviously entering.
***
Many years ago, in the mansion.
I throw a pillow at Jean's face, and it hits her squarely in the jaw, my voice rings out in a musical laugh and I shake my head, the auburn and white tresses caressing the middle of my back. "He did not get ya that!"
The other girl's laugh erupts shortly after mine, and she holds the pale purple to her chest, knees curling up around it. "He did! And it didn't even fit!"
Valentine's Day. Gotta love it. Jean was telling me her old stories of what Scott had gotten her. Apparently they had gotten into a huge fight and Jean had called him boring, so he went out and bought her edible underwear. Jean nearly passed out from laughing so hard. Good ol' Scotty blushed and rebounded with a handful of daisy's ...might as well stick to what he's good at.
The only reason I'm being all social and buddy, buddy with Jeannie is that I need some kind of idea of what to get Remy. What do you get a guy that has everything? We've only been "officially" dating for about a month now, so what's enough? Gah, I hate this stupid holiday.
"What do ya think 'bout a necklace?"
Jean wrinkles her nose, of course she's comparing it to what Scott would like, so I instantly see possibilities for the decision. "I don't know. What kind?"
I curl up on my side of the couch, feeling my eyes go distant as I picture that gorgeous hunk 'a Cajun, tight fitting pants, a shirt open to expose the bronze expanse of his chest...whoah, this wasn't getting me anywhere. I blink a few times and shake my head, rolling my shoulders into a small shrug. "Ah don't know."
Jean wrinkles her pouty lips and stands, adjusting her tiny sleeping shorts and white tank top. She winks at me. "You'll figure something out. But knowing Remy...you'll have something to compete with."
That was my signal to go. Obviously I made the red haired beauty nervous. I was used to it. The only one who wasn't squeamish around me was Remy, and sometimes that wasn't always a good thing. I was getting control of my powers, the Professor said so, and I could feel it. They just were a little temperamental sometimes.
I hop up, no hard feelings, right? My hands fall to my sides. I still wear the elbow length gloves, though the control in my hands is almost impeccable...old habits die hard, eh? The plush, green
terrycloth robe that Remy got me for my birthday gets tied at the waist tightly. It falls to my ankles, but the sleeves are rolled up, so I'm not worried about any extra contact that might happen. Besides, from here it's to the kitchen for a snack, and then hopefully to bed. "Thanks Jeannie, yoah right, good night girl."
I don't wait for her to reply, she's probably brushing her hair out or something, I just walk to the door and open it, quietly exiting.
Cool, and empty, the hall looked perfect, like something out of a movie. It was so clean. I know Xavier hires maids to clean, but I never see them. Even all the pictures are straight. It's almost eerie. My socked feet pad silently past portraits of landscapes and sober looking people in frilly dresses. My lips part and a soft tune escapes them. I couldn't place it if you asked, but it seems oddly familiar all the same. Turning into the kitchen, I flip on the light and head straight for the fridge. Storm was suppose to made some cookies after supper. They'd be cold, but nothing a little microwave wouldn't solve. After retrieving the cookies, I get myself a glass of milk. Can't have cookies if you don't have milk. It's a rule. And not any of that 2% stuff, or low fat. Milk isn't milk unless it's whole.
Mmm...frothy glass, warm cookies. What else could a girl want? Perfect midnight snack.
Of course these things don't ever last long. I inhale deeply, cookies, kitchen, cigarette smoke, and spicy cologne. Two out of four ain't bad. My slight tensing up has no doubt noted him that I know of his presence. But I'm almost willing to bed that if he didn't want me to know he was there, I wouldn't.
A bare sound of feet hitting the floor before I hear that voice. I'm so used to tensing that I forget sometimes that we do go out, and I don't have to dread his presence anymore. "'ey chere."
I feel him before I see or hear him. Feel his fingertips caress the robe lightly, and feel the soft warmth of his breath caress my cheek. He knows my limits and his, because he's pulled back and lounged in a kitchen chair before I can say anything. I'm suddenly not hungry, but thirsty, my mouth has gone dry. He has the tendency to do that to a girl. "Heya there Remy. Haven't see ya all day, whatcha been up to?"
I lean against the table's edge and dip my head ever so slightly so that my hair falls over my shoulder and covers some of my face. I can practically feel his seductive red on black eyes penetrating through. Two can tease I guess. He doesn't move, and if I didn't know better, breathe. "Jus' makin' arrangements chere, ya know how dat is." His voice isn't above a hare's breath.
"Arrangements? Foah what...mahgt Ah ask?" That had my curiosity peaked. I lifted my head, and tucked my hair behind my ear gently, eyes landing on him.
His own red on black eyes seemed to glimmer just a bit, and a smile tugged at his lips. "Now if Remy told ya what it was, it wouldn't be a surprise, chere." He winked at me, and my knees went weak, but my outside resolve held.
"Surprise? What are ya up to Swamp Rat?" My voice sounded affectionate even to me.
He stood up in one fluid motion and moved over to me, getting within a butterfly kiss of my face. I had the urge to pull back, but I controlled it. Had to let him have something. I couldn't always block him out, even though that was what my first instinct was. His eyes, that look. It scared me. Not afraid for my life, scared. Butterflies in my stomach scared. He cared for me so much...but the question was, was I strong enough to care for him back? "How has dat powah control been comin' along, chere?" I knew he deliberately avoided the subject, but I let it go for now.
I swallowed. It just wasn't right for a guy to make one feel so powerless, even though I had more power than most. I forced my voice to steady itself, even though I hadn't said a word. "Almost there." I pull away from him, or else I'd do something we'd both regret, even though he'd say he didn't until the day he died. Going back over to the counter where I set my milk and cookies down, I pick up the glass and take a healthy drink. I can feel even before I turn around that he's gone. I've failed him in some way and it hurts me. But I freeze up, he doesn't know how hard it is, to be afraid to love someone as much as I am afraid to love him.
***
Ya'll tell me how this is, and if I get the right kinda feedback, I may pursue this thing further. In between my busy life, of course. But ya'll don't really miss me. Anyway, reviews, reviews, reviews!