My goodness, I'm back from the land of the dead. After recovering from the
New Year's sangria and champagne I've dashed off another part. Happy 2003!
Here's to keeping all the resolutions you want to and breaking the ones you
don't.
* * *
Ta say that lunch was interestin' might be understatin' the case. Ah'd barely reached my locker before Remy was wavin' somethin' in my face.
"Taste dis," he insisted. He was blockin' my locker. Ah gently moved him aside, twirled the lock an' popped open the door.
"Wait a sec, okay?" Ah exchanged the mornin's books for the afternoon's, took a deep breath an' steadied myself. Ah didn't want Remy ta know Ah was upset, even though practically the only thing Ah could think about was him an' John. Ah clenched my fists an' turned ta face him. "So what did ya want me ta taste?"
"Soufflé," he replied. "Might be pretty cold by now." He sounded anxious an' Ah threw him a tiny smile before Ah remembered that Ah was supposed ta be mad at him. Tore off a little piece with my fingers an' popped it into my mouth. Even lukewarm it was amazin': smooth an' buttery.
"Well?" Remy'd shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Fantastic."
"What?"
"Ah said it's great. Fantastic. Might even go so far as ta say it was fan- fuckin'-tastic." The last part was spoken carefully around more mouthfuls of soufflé.
"Really?"
"You're sayin' it like ya don't believe me or somethin'."
"Non, I do."
"Good."
We stared at each other for a couple minutes. Ah licked my lips. Remy looked...Ah don't know how he looked. He looked like Friday night in bed. He looked like gettin' all the way ta third base an' takin' a long look at home.
"Cafeteria," Ah suggested, tryin' ta lose the wobble in my voice that matched the wobble in my knees.
"Y' mean we're not eating outside? Under de bleachers? Behind de gym?"
Ah curled my hands into fists and put 'em on my hips. "Yeah an' if you'll ditch seventh period with me we can go smoke there too! That your idea of how ta make a misfit?"
He stroked the side o' my face lightly with the tip o' his pinky. "T'ought dat dis might be your idea," he said, showin' me the streak o' white makeup on his skin.
"Ya don't know anythin' about it. Ah don't understand how ya can just waltz in here an' think ya know everythin' there is ta know."
Remy held up his hands. He looked confused. "Was a joke, chére. A joke."
"A bad one," Ah managed, feelin' pressure build on the bridge o' my nose. Ah couldn't cry in front o' him. Ah just couldn't.
We were passin' the bathrooms and Ah excused myself. Inside, Ah washed my hands and then pressed 'em against my face. They were cool an' damp. The necklace was jammed into a corner of one o' my front pockets. Ah pulled it out an' fastened it on.
In the mirror, my eyes were a little brighter than normal, but other than that there was no sign that Ah'd been upset at all. Didn't know whether ta be pleased or disappointed 'bout that. The makeup was smooth an' flawless, like a mask or a still pool. Ah wiped my hands on my pants and rejoined Remy in the hall.
"Okay?"
Ah patted him on the cheek, enjoyin' the soft noise o' skin against skin. "Ah'm fine." And Ah was fine, because somethin' about that necklace made me feel better no matter what, like everythin' Ah'd been worried about before had all faded into this nice, soothin' hum at the back o' my mind. Before he could say anythin', Ah twirled on the balls o' my feet an' started off toward the cafeteria.
"Wait!" he shouted. Wasn't long before he caught up, but by then we were right at the entryway an' even Remy didn't want ta cause a scene on his very first day o' school. The cafeteria was bright an' busy an' noisy, it seemed safe ta me, all those people. As if nothin' bad could ever happen there.
"Hot line. Salad bar. Vendin' machines," Ah said, pointin' at each one. "Ah'd avoid the fish sticks if Ah were you. Anythin' fish really. Fries're okay but they go cold in less than ten seconds. Anythin' else is fair game as long as you don't expect miracles." Ah was all set ta escape Remy an' the inevitable questions Ah wouldn't be any more willin' or prepared ta answer than Ah'd been on Friday night, but before Ah could take a step his hand closed hard around my upper arm.
He was practically growlin' in my ear. "Y' stay right wit' me, yeuhrm (do you hear)?" I got scared then. Strangely enough, it woulda been better if we'd been outside. Ah could have gotten away from him, yelled ta make someone come. But inside the crowded cafeteria with other people pressin' around no one was gonna pay attention ta us.
All Ah knew was Ah didn't want ta tell him anythin', but Ah was afraid that he'd look at me an' beg me ta do it an' then Ah would, because in the end Ah felt like Ah couldn't refuse him anythin'. The necklace closed around my throat like another hand.
* * *
Held onto her because I was scared. Situations I could handle, easy, and most people too. I could have charmed de secret out of her, but dere was some perversity dat made me want for her t' tell me herself. But I knew dat de second I let go she'd weave away into de crowd and I'd never catch her.
We stumbled t'rough de hot line, standing close. I threw everyt'ing I could reach onto de tray and paid, juggling my money one-handed. Dere was an unoccupied corner and I steered Rogue into it.
"Sit."
De way she looked at me, wit' narrowed eyes, was like she hated me. In all de time I'd known her she'd never looked at me like dat. Not even in de beginning when she had all de reason in de world.
"Can Ah sit on the other side or are ya afraid Ah'll make a run for it?"
"Cut de crap, huh."
"Ah don't believe Ah was the first one ta start in on this bullshit," she spat back, flinging her arms across her chest and sitting heavily on de seat as if she were daring it t' break.
Opened my mouth t' reply--cut her as much as she seemed t' want t' cut me-- but den I stopped. Realized dat she was just as scared as I was.
"Don't want t' fight wit' you 'bout dis, but I do want t' know what's going on."
"Ah told ya before, it's nothin'."
Shook my head. "Didn't believe y' den and I still don't."
She looked away, her hair falling across her face so I couldn't guess what she was t'inking. When she spoke next it was so quiet I couldn't hear.
"Comment (what)?"
"Ah said, what're you an' John doin' meetin' out in th' woods?"
"What?"
"Oh, Ms. Monroe an' the Professor know all about it, who knows who else. Caught on tape."
Went cold at dat. Absolutely frigid. "Don't know what..."
"Now you cut th' crap," she hissed. When she looked at me I could see dat she was more dan willing t' play it rough. De way I saw it, could go two ways. We could each keep our secrets, holding what we knew about de other like a loaded gun t' keep everyt'ing quiet, or...
"He was giving me information," I admitted. Dat stopped her. She hadn't expected me t' tell her at all. Stung a little dat her faith must be so frail, but den, before, I might not have cared 'nough t' tell anyone de truth. "Didn't want t' do it in front of de group, y' understand. John knows me, might even like me in a way."
She finally recovered her voice. "What information?"
"John didn't come back into town for fun."
"Magneto...Mystique."
"Moreau too."
Her eyes went wide. "Well, we gotta tell the Professor about this. He thinks you're..."
Shook my head violently. "Don't care what he t'inks or any of dem. Dey were always going t' t'ink what dey wanted 'bout me sans doute (doubtless)."
"But..." De bell rang. All around, de other students started pressing out of de cafeteria. Quick like dey suddenly realized dey were late for some important appointment. We stayed perfectly still.
"I owe John a lot more dan I want t' t'ink about. He's de one dat helped us get away from dat lab in Genosha. I can keep dis secret for him. Have t'." Dug into my pocket, pulled out de necklace and poured it into her hand. "Here. He gave me dis t' play wit'. Mebbe we can figure out a way t' sneak into Mr. McCoy's lab and test it."
She seemed hypnotized by de bit of metal in her palm. "Where...where did John get this?"
Shrugged. "He stole it from Magneto and Moreau, why?" Second bell.
Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She touched her neck, flustered.
"D'you know what dis is, Rogue?"
"Ah..."
"Y' can tell me." Was pleading wit' her den but I didn't really care.
"Ah want ta, it's just..."
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. "Second bell. Better get a move on before you're too late."
When I looked back across de table, Rogue was gone. And den it came t' me slow motion like a cauchemar (nightmare). Her hands fluttering at her throat. De wealth of necklaces dere. De way she'd looked Friday night. Marks on her neck, marks on my hands. It was all de same--hiding in plain sight.
* * *
Roguechere: see, sometimes I feel like ff.net is SO big that I can miss out on lots of stories just because I happen to check at the wrong time of day or something. I'm glad you're enjoying the story since I'm having a helluva lot of fun writing it. John does indeed have a crush on Mystique (awww) which is kind of conjecturally comic-based because I am a big comics dork like that.
MiraiTigerlily: thanks so much!
evolutionary spider: no prob! I am the queen of internet research and I'm always happy to share the bounties of my time googling. Eek! I'm getting worse with the updates or something though...
Lucky439: here ya go. Happy reading!
ishandahalf: hey, they were together in this chapter! Umm...not so much with the ubermushiness though, but they had some issues to work through. There was...uh...some pleasantness...
Neurotic Temptress: ta da! Here's yer conflict, although I have a feeling it's only beginning to play out (she has a FEELING?! As the author, shouldn't she know?!) I also have a little twist in mind for next chapter that might surprise you. Then again it might not.
Flyby Stardancer: seems like everyone wanted to see some R&R conflict (with the exception of ishandahalf who wanted the ubermushiness) and I'm proud to deliver. I do hate that they seem to be fighting so much, but I have faith that they'll come out okay in the end. Luckily the soufflé was only...ah...singed and as such still HIGHLY edible.
starlightz6: just for you (and my own peace of mind quite frankly) I have the "He looked like Friday night in bed. He looked like gettin' all the way ta third base an' takin' a long look at home." line. I think that's as close to explicit as I wanna go or this fic will cease to be fun for the whole family (as long as you ignore Remy & Rogue swearing a lot).
Lace123: I'm glad I could offer a bit of respite. Chuck E. Cheese [shudder] my parents must have really loved me to take me there when I was a kid...although come to think of it I only went like 3 times so maybe not... Despite my initial knee-jerk dislike of Kitty I actually do like her now.
Sujakata: Well he certainly does now. Yikes. I think Rogue needs a little time to process things before they have their second confrontation though. Poor girl.
Panther Nesmith: Shoplifting gifts...heh. I used to work at this store that took returns without a receipt. Gangs of GROWN women used to come in and steal stuff and then return it and get lots of money. Five bucks a week? You have my sympathies.
rain finder: I think Remy may be insecure about a lot of things and the whole debonair attitude is sort of a front. There's a Liz Phair song called "Chopsticks" where she's singing about meeting this guy at a party and their conversation and she's talking all big, but in the end she just drops him off at his house and goes home alone because "secretly, I'm timid." Kind of my take on the character.
Jean1: Thanks! I'm trying to come at things sideways just because I think it's interesting (also I can be a bastard and make my revelations in smaller increments that way).
Freeverse: Yay! Hooked! I'm assuming you meant the Aussie slang that St. John uses and I can see how that might be strange. I wanted to be able to make his speech patterns distinctive and having never met an Aussie before it's hard to judge when I've gone too far (also finding Aussie slang fascinating doesn't help). I do have some experience with the British and, on the whole, they use their distinctive slang quite frequently. Chalk it up to me being a tad self-conscious writing it, therefore it doesn't seem as organic to the story. I'll have to look at my future slang more closely.
* * *
Ta say that lunch was interestin' might be understatin' the case. Ah'd barely reached my locker before Remy was wavin' somethin' in my face.
"Taste dis," he insisted. He was blockin' my locker. Ah gently moved him aside, twirled the lock an' popped open the door.
"Wait a sec, okay?" Ah exchanged the mornin's books for the afternoon's, took a deep breath an' steadied myself. Ah didn't want Remy ta know Ah was upset, even though practically the only thing Ah could think about was him an' John. Ah clenched my fists an' turned ta face him. "So what did ya want me ta taste?"
"Soufflé," he replied. "Might be pretty cold by now." He sounded anxious an' Ah threw him a tiny smile before Ah remembered that Ah was supposed ta be mad at him. Tore off a little piece with my fingers an' popped it into my mouth. Even lukewarm it was amazin': smooth an' buttery.
"Well?" Remy'd shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
"Fantastic."
"What?"
"Ah said it's great. Fantastic. Might even go so far as ta say it was fan- fuckin'-tastic." The last part was spoken carefully around more mouthfuls of soufflé.
"Really?"
"You're sayin' it like ya don't believe me or somethin'."
"Non, I do."
"Good."
We stared at each other for a couple minutes. Ah licked my lips. Remy looked...Ah don't know how he looked. He looked like Friday night in bed. He looked like gettin' all the way ta third base an' takin' a long look at home.
"Cafeteria," Ah suggested, tryin' ta lose the wobble in my voice that matched the wobble in my knees.
"Y' mean we're not eating outside? Under de bleachers? Behind de gym?"
Ah curled my hands into fists and put 'em on my hips. "Yeah an' if you'll ditch seventh period with me we can go smoke there too! That your idea of how ta make a misfit?"
He stroked the side o' my face lightly with the tip o' his pinky. "T'ought dat dis might be your idea," he said, showin' me the streak o' white makeup on his skin.
"Ya don't know anythin' about it. Ah don't understand how ya can just waltz in here an' think ya know everythin' there is ta know."
Remy held up his hands. He looked confused. "Was a joke, chére. A joke."
"A bad one," Ah managed, feelin' pressure build on the bridge o' my nose. Ah couldn't cry in front o' him. Ah just couldn't.
We were passin' the bathrooms and Ah excused myself. Inside, Ah washed my hands and then pressed 'em against my face. They were cool an' damp. The necklace was jammed into a corner of one o' my front pockets. Ah pulled it out an' fastened it on.
In the mirror, my eyes were a little brighter than normal, but other than that there was no sign that Ah'd been upset at all. Didn't know whether ta be pleased or disappointed 'bout that. The makeup was smooth an' flawless, like a mask or a still pool. Ah wiped my hands on my pants and rejoined Remy in the hall.
"Okay?"
Ah patted him on the cheek, enjoyin' the soft noise o' skin against skin. "Ah'm fine." And Ah was fine, because somethin' about that necklace made me feel better no matter what, like everythin' Ah'd been worried about before had all faded into this nice, soothin' hum at the back o' my mind. Before he could say anythin', Ah twirled on the balls o' my feet an' started off toward the cafeteria.
"Wait!" he shouted. Wasn't long before he caught up, but by then we were right at the entryway an' even Remy didn't want ta cause a scene on his very first day o' school. The cafeteria was bright an' busy an' noisy, it seemed safe ta me, all those people. As if nothin' bad could ever happen there.
"Hot line. Salad bar. Vendin' machines," Ah said, pointin' at each one. "Ah'd avoid the fish sticks if Ah were you. Anythin' fish really. Fries're okay but they go cold in less than ten seconds. Anythin' else is fair game as long as you don't expect miracles." Ah was all set ta escape Remy an' the inevitable questions Ah wouldn't be any more willin' or prepared ta answer than Ah'd been on Friday night, but before Ah could take a step his hand closed hard around my upper arm.
He was practically growlin' in my ear. "Y' stay right wit' me, yeuhrm (do you hear)?" I got scared then. Strangely enough, it woulda been better if we'd been outside. Ah could have gotten away from him, yelled ta make someone come. But inside the crowded cafeteria with other people pressin' around no one was gonna pay attention ta us.
All Ah knew was Ah didn't want ta tell him anythin', but Ah was afraid that he'd look at me an' beg me ta do it an' then Ah would, because in the end Ah felt like Ah couldn't refuse him anythin'. The necklace closed around my throat like another hand.
* * *
Held onto her because I was scared. Situations I could handle, easy, and most people too. I could have charmed de secret out of her, but dere was some perversity dat made me want for her t' tell me herself. But I knew dat de second I let go she'd weave away into de crowd and I'd never catch her.
We stumbled t'rough de hot line, standing close. I threw everyt'ing I could reach onto de tray and paid, juggling my money one-handed. Dere was an unoccupied corner and I steered Rogue into it.
"Sit."
De way she looked at me, wit' narrowed eyes, was like she hated me. In all de time I'd known her she'd never looked at me like dat. Not even in de beginning when she had all de reason in de world.
"Can Ah sit on the other side or are ya afraid Ah'll make a run for it?"
"Cut de crap, huh."
"Ah don't believe Ah was the first one ta start in on this bullshit," she spat back, flinging her arms across her chest and sitting heavily on de seat as if she were daring it t' break.
Opened my mouth t' reply--cut her as much as she seemed t' want t' cut me-- but den I stopped. Realized dat she was just as scared as I was.
"Don't want t' fight wit' you 'bout dis, but I do want t' know what's going on."
"Ah told ya before, it's nothin'."
Shook my head. "Didn't believe y' den and I still don't."
She looked away, her hair falling across her face so I couldn't guess what she was t'inking. When she spoke next it was so quiet I couldn't hear.
"Comment (what)?"
"Ah said, what're you an' John doin' meetin' out in th' woods?"
"What?"
"Oh, Ms. Monroe an' the Professor know all about it, who knows who else. Caught on tape."
Went cold at dat. Absolutely frigid. "Don't know what..."
"Now you cut th' crap," she hissed. When she looked at me I could see dat she was more dan willing t' play it rough. De way I saw it, could go two ways. We could each keep our secrets, holding what we knew about de other like a loaded gun t' keep everyt'ing quiet, or...
"He was giving me information," I admitted. Dat stopped her. She hadn't expected me t' tell her at all. Stung a little dat her faith must be so frail, but den, before, I might not have cared 'nough t' tell anyone de truth. "Didn't want t' do it in front of de group, y' understand. John knows me, might even like me in a way."
She finally recovered her voice. "What information?"
"John didn't come back into town for fun."
"Magneto...Mystique."
"Moreau too."
Her eyes went wide. "Well, we gotta tell the Professor about this. He thinks you're..."
Shook my head violently. "Don't care what he t'inks or any of dem. Dey were always going t' t'ink what dey wanted 'bout me sans doute (doubtless)."
"But..." De bell rang. All around, de other students started pressing out of de cafeteria. Quick like dey suddenly realized dey were late for some important appointment. We stayed perfectly still.
"I owe John a lot more dan I want t' t'ink about. He's de one dat helped us get away from dat lab in Genosha. I can keep dis secret for him. Have t'." Dug into my pocket, pulled out de necklace and poured it into her hand. "Here. He gave me dis t' play wit'. Mebbe we can figure out a way t' sneak into Mr. McCoy's lab and test it."
She seemed hypnotized by de bit of metal in her palm. "Where...where did John get this?"
Shrugged. "He stole it from Magneto and Moreau, why?" Second bell.
Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She touched her neck, flustered.
"D'you know what dis is, Rogue?"
"Ah..."
"Y' can tell me." Was pleading wit' her den but I didn't really care.
"Ah want ta, it's just..."
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. "Second bell. Better get a move on before you're too late."
When I looked back across de table, Rogue was gone. And den it came t' me slow motion like a cauchemar (nightmare). Her hands fluttering at her throat. De wealth of necklaces dere. De way she'd looked Friday night. Marks on her neck, marks on my hands. It was all de same--hiding in plain sight.
* * *
Roguechere: see, sometimes I feel like ff.net is SO big that I can miss out on lots of stories just because I happen to check at the wrong time of day or something. I'm glad you're enjoying the story since I'm having a helluva lot of fun writing it. John does indeed have a crush on Mystique (awww) which is kind of conjecturally comic-based because I am a big comics dork like that.
MiraiTigerlily: thanks so much!
evolutionary spider: no prob! I am the queen of internet research and I'm always happy to share the bounties of my time googling. Eek! I'm getting worse with the updates or something though...
Lucky439: here ya go. Happy reading!
ishandahalf: hey, they were together in this chapter! Umm...not so much with the ubermushiness though, but they had some issues to work through. There was...uh...some pleasantness...
Neurotic Temptress: ta da! Here's yer conflict, although I have a feeling it's only beginning to play out (she has a FEELING?! As the author, shouldn't she know?!) I also have a little twist in mind for next chapter that might surprise you. Then again it might not.
Flyby Stardancer: seems like everyone wanted to see some R&R conflict (with the exception of ishandahalf who wanted the ubermushiness) and I'm proud to deliver. I do hate that they seem to be fighting so much, but I have faith that they'll come out okay in the end. Luckily the soufflé was only...ah...singed and as such still HIGHLY edible.
starlightz6: just for you (and my own peace of mind quite frankly) I have the "He looked like Friday night in bed. He looked like gettin' all the way ta third base an' takin' a long look at home." line. I think that's as close to explicit as I wanna go or this fic will cease to be fun for the whole family (as long as you ignore Remy & Rogue swearing a lot).
Lace123: I'm glad I could offer a bit of respite. Chuck E. Cheese [shudder] my parents must have really loved me to take me there when I was a kid...although come to think of it I only went like 3 times so maybe not... Despite my initial knee-jerk dislike of Kitty I actually do like her now.
Sujakata: Well he certainly does now. Yikes. I think Rogue needs a little time to process things before they have their second confrontation though. Poor girl.
Panther Nesmith: Shoplifting gifts...heh. I used to work at this store that took returns without a receipt. Gangs of GROWN women used to come in and steal stuff and then return it and get lots of money. Five bucks a week? You have my sympathies.
rain finder: I think Remy may be insecure about a lot of things and the whole debonair attitude is sort of a front. There's a Liz Phair song called "Chopsticks" where she's singing about meeting this guy at a party and their conversation and she's talking all big, but in the end she just drops him off at his house and goes home alone because "secretly, I'm timid." Kind of my take on the character.
Jean1: Thanks! I'm trying to come at things sideways just because I think it's interesting (also I can be a bastard and make my revelations in smaller increments that way).
Freeverse: Yay! Hooked! I'm assuming you meant the Aussie slang that St. John uses and I can see how that might be strange. I wanted to be able to make his speech patterns distinctive and having never met an Aussie before it's hard to judge when I've gone too far (also finding Aussie slang fascinating doesn't help). I do have some experience with the British and, on the whole, they use their distinctive slang quite frequently. Chalk it up to me being a tad self-conscious writing it, therefore it doesn't seem as organic to the story. I'll have to look at my future slang more closely.