Snow in April: A Wedding Story
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG to PG-13 whether there is language or not
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters I mention in this story and its chapters.
Chapter Five: The Fire Prince
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 14, 2003 5:12 p.m., in my shared room
Good grief. I was up in the mountains since I needed to talk to Peter, when guess who answered the door.
Magneto.
And did he look surprised.
"Come to say dues, have you X-men?" he said in this really scary, miffed voice. I rolled my eyes and looked past him.
"First off, it's X-MAN and you're not scaring anyone," I said, still trying to look past him. "And second, I have no dues with you, Magnny, so you could just..."
Then he picked me up by my steel choker and started choking me with it.
"Then what do you want?" he asked. I still wasn't intimidated. Then from behind, someone said, "Put her down," and I saw Peter come out wearing the same sad, stoney face he was famous for. Magneto stopped, sneered, and went back inside. The door closed and disappeared against the snow.
"Xavier should build something like that," I muttered, and found Peter looking at me. His gloomy face was sullen.
"You're 'ere for me, eh?" he asked, stuffing his humongous hands into his torn jacket. I nodded, glancing up at his pallid face.
"It's about, er, your gifts," I said, pushing aside my guilt. Peter took a swift glance at me and huffed. Almost immediately, I saw his shoulders sag, which told me everything.
"She doesn't like them," he said, so sadly I felt my own heart break and brought a hand to pat his arm.
"No, it's not that, she loves them," I reassured him, but he looked doubtful. "It's just that, her boyfriend, Lance Alvers, he doesn't like you giving anything to her."
Peter looked depressed. "St. John was right," he said, his voice tearing, "Maybe it's wrong to play with love."
"No, you're not playing anything, especially love," I told him sternly. "It's just that you've grasped something you can't hold. Something that's..." He looked at me with grimacing eyes. My words were stabbing him, and I quickly returned to silence. "Sorry," I mumbled and heard him huff gently.
"Good night, Rogue," he said, and walked back into the invisible dome. I stared after him.
Gosh, he's the only person that can actually make me feel sorry for.
January 15, 2003 12:30 - World Civ
People have also heard about Scott's daring attempt on his life. And remember Duncan? He's gone. Transferred.
January 16, 2003 5:30 p.m., my shared room
Another practice for the wedding. Everyone was there, much to Jean's delight. I was, once again, trampling down the aisle with John by my side, which gave me enough time to rasp everything from him telling Remy what I said about the wedding to what Peter told me yesterday. He mustered a few replies and I knew none were meant. I frowned at him.
"You're very discouraging, you know that, John? Peter trusts you, not to mention me! You can't just break something so valuable like that..." I tried to reason. John frowned back at me.
"I know. I'm sick and tired of always being the bad guy..." Then he walked out, on me, on the practice, and boy, was Jean fuming. She started screaming and Kitty suggested I get John back or else she'll create havoc. I hurried out and found John standing by the brook which leads to Clairemont's, his head down and lips pouted. I crossed my arms and turned my head to look at him sideways.
"John, you'd better get back inside. People - Jean - will start to worry and you know what that means," I said, tightening my black coat around myself. John turned to me, the fire relentless in his eyes.
"It's wrong. You know it, right?" he asked. I furrowed my brow, confused.
"What are you talking about?"
"Da wedding," he said simply and pushed himself away from the brick bridge. I came over and stood next to him.
"Yes," I answered, blandly. He glanced at me swiftly, and I sighed. "But I guess I've learned to deal with it. If they want to throw their lives away for each other, then let them. No use in trying to stop them."
I was surprised to find John gawking at me. "Those are some new words, Sheila," he muttered, mustering his Aussie lingo. I smirked at that and he turned back toward the church.
"We should go. Jean will get mad," he reasoned. I smiled.
"I think she already is." And no surprise, she was screaming her head off. Practice ended early and I walked with John to Clairemont's, since he promised me a cup of coffee. On our way there, I noticed the accordion player was singing and remembered how Remy clobbered him the last time. And when we sat down with our coffee, John actually paid the guy to sing a song!
Talk about annoying.
So there I sat, drinking my bland coffee (they had banned self service since my last visit) while John talked about Magneto and Peter and Remy and that stupid accordion player with that song once more. That was it. I stood up, pushed him over the brook and quickly walked away. John, seeing me do so, rushed to my side and ran with me until we were clear out of Clairemont's and passing Ivory. John was the first to speak.
"Why- pant- Why did you do THAT?!" he sounded shocked. I caught my breath and gave him a wry look.
"Do I ~look~ like I want an Italian psychotic freelancer to be breathing down my neck wile singing "Bella Notte" accompanied with that annoyingly pitched accordion around his neck?!"
His eyes grew wide with surprise. Then he laughed. Long and loud. I stood there, dumbfounded, until I figured better and started to walk away. He followed.
"Where are you going?" he asked, anxiously. I rolled my eyes.
"Xavier's Institute," I answered and much to my malicious animosity, John still followed.
"Why?"
"Maybe because it's my home?!" It was a better answer than most. He suddenly grabbed my arm and gave me a concerned look.
"The reason why I was laughing," he started, his eyes burning with iridescent fire, "is because you sounded so much of what Remy would ..er.. say." He noticed my frown and grinned at my minor indisposition.
"That's -deplorable-," I snapped, and he laughed. I leaned back, facing him while standing on one leg, and felt my own mouth grin. We walked in silence back to the mansion, where he stopped and while I was punching the numbers in, fingered the gate longingly.
"How does it feel, to be, um, kept behind a gate, away from… people?" he asked, unknowing. I gave him a understanding smile.
"The same way it feels when you take a step toward the world and Magneto keeps you inside." He stared at me, reflecting on this sudden vindication and looked back to the mansion.
"Maybe..er.." his words were unsteady. I opened the gate, and entered, closing it slightly. "...I had really, lots of fun today. Perhaps...we can...do it another time?" I looked at him with a underlying stare.
"Perhaps," I said, my mouth giving him a sugary smile. He then caught my hand through the bars and held it. Giving it a solemn squeeze, he let it drop and I walked away, feeling his eyes on me the entire stretch back.
It's weird. I've never been asked at such wrought manner and yet... so rewarding.
Later, 7:12 p.m.
John called. We arranged to meet tomorrow at 7p.m. He'll pick me up.
Darn. I smiling with ashamed bliss.
January 17, 2003 5:45 p.m., on the top stair of the staircase
I'm soberly intent on not trying to let anyone else find out.
Today, Jean had brought in all the famous chocolates in the world - Hershey's, Almond Roca, geez, you name it - it was Choc Paradise as Kurt munched, Kitty tried, and Remy stood back, aghast the midst of calories and refined coco aroma, watching with an imperious eye and smart tongue.
And I was oblivious, of course, until I happened to come downstairs from my lofty shared room and stepped into an uproarious HELL.
But besides that fact, I was surprised to find them all at the dining table, with mounds of See's wrappers and mint paper on the ground and table. Not to mention, a bit jealous that no one told me of this.
"Hello Rogue!" Jean called from the dining room, her back against some chairs and arms filled with boxes of chocolate, "thinking of joining us in sampling the gift favors for my guests?"
I glanced at her, reflected on the offer, and entered the room. My eyes traveled to the chocolate, to those seated, then to Remy and back to the table.
Could I say Chocolate Haven?
"Where'd you get all these?" I asked, horrified with pleasure. I picked up an Almond Roca and popped it into my mouth, letting the chocolate melt slowly on my tongue.
Jean saw my deluged face of satisfaction and grinned. "Free samples. It's a wonder how people could just give so many boxes to people who wait by the door..."
"And beg," concluded Kitty. Jean gave her a hard stare.
"I wasn't -begging- ," she said with a harsh tone, "just simply asking people to spare some chocolate."
"They thought her desperate," Kurt explained, and gave me sad puppy eyes, "Please mister," he imitated Jean, "spare the chocolate for me." That earned him a simple whack to the head.
Remy had not said anything. He just stood there, his face wrinkled into an expressionless disposition. I swaggered a quick look and smiled.
"Thanks for the chocolate," I told Jean and was about to go, when Jean called me back.
"Hey Rogue," she said, planting more samples on the table," Remy and I are going to catch the late night flicks tonight down at Holly's Drive. Like to come along? It starts at seven."
I was thinking of just blowing it off like that, when I figured I should just come clean with the truth.
"Can't," I said, picking up another Almond Roca. "I've got to be somewhere."
"Where?" Kitty asked, impishly. I gave her a raised eyebrow.
"Date," I said, casually. When I looked up at them, they were all appalled. "What?!" I asked, hurt. "Why do you all look surprised?"
"Because - we are," Kurt declared. I could almost feel the blood rising to my head.
"What? You don't think I could go on a date?!" I asked. Jean shook her head and brightened her smile.
"With who?" her voice was of curiosity. I stole a look at Remy and found his mouth slightly open. My own mouth slid into a simple smile.
"John." Jean clasped her hands to her neck.
"Oh my GOD Rogue! I knew it!" she threw her arms around me, and I didn't push her back. Trust me, it surprised me more now than it did then.
"Where are you going?" Kitty asked, interested. I told her I wasn't sure, but he said he made some reservations some where and Kurt said it better not be at a hotel. I laughed, blushing.
"I'll see," I said, and left the kitchen. But not before stealing another look at Remy. He had put his head down and was shaking it slowly.
IN YOUR FACE, LEBEAU.
Gosh, that finally said, maybe I can have some peace. Better get ready.
Reminder to myself: must ask Kitty if I can borrow her brown tunic.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Ha! Ha! Ha! Things are taking a scary twist. Now you get my gist of why I have two chapters for you! I'll be accepting reviews, thank you very much.
By: Ariesque
Genre: Humor/Drama
Ratings: PG to PG-13 whether there is language or not
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters I mention in this story and its chapters.
Chapter Five: The Fire Prince
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 14, 2003 5:12 p.m., in my shared room
Good grief. I was up in the mountains since I needed to talk to Peter, when guess who answered the door.
Magneto.
And did he look surprised.
"Come to say dues, have you X-men?" he said in this really scary, miffed voice. I rolled my eyes and looked past him.
"First off, it's X-MAN and you're not scaring anyone," I said, still trying to look past him. "And second, I have no dues with you, Magnny, so you could just..."
Then he picked me up by my steel choker and started choking me with it.
"Then what do you want?" he asked. I still wasn't intimidated. Then from behind, someone said, "Put her down," and I saw Peter come out wearing the same sad, stoney face he was famous for. Magneto stopped, sneered, and went back inside. The door closed and disappeared against the snow.
"Xavier should build something like that," I muttered, and found Peter looking at me. His gloomy face was sullen.
"You're 'ere for me, eh?" he asked, stuffing his humongous hands into his torn jacket. I nodded, glancing up at his pallid face.
"It's about, er, your gifts," I said, pushing aside my guilt. Peter took a swift glance at me and huffed. Almost immediately, I saw his shoulders sag, which told me everything.
"She doesn't like them," he said, so sadly I felt my own heart break and brought a hand to pat his arm.
"No, it's not that, she loves them," I reassured him, but he looked doubtful. "It's just that, her boyfriend, Lance Alvers, he doesn't like you giving anything to her."
Peter looked depressed. "St. John was right," he said, his voice tearing, "Maybe it's wrong to play with love."
"No, you're not playing anything, especially love," I told him sternly. "It's just that you've grasped something you can't hold. Something that's..." He looked at me with grimacing eyes. My words were stabbing him, and I quickly returned to silence. "Sorry," I mumbled and heard him huff gently.
"Good night, Rogue," he said, and walked back into the invisible dome. I stared after him.
Gosh, he's the only person that can actually make me feel sorry for.
January 15, 2003 12:30 - World Civ
People have also heard about Scott's daring attempt on his life. And remember Duncan? He's gone. Transferred.
January 16, 2003 5:30 p.m., my shared room
Another practice for the wedding. Everyone was there, much to Jean's delight. I was, once again, trampling down the aisle with John by my side, which gave me enough time to rasp everything from him telling Remy what I said about the wedding to what Peter told me yesterday. He mustered a few replies and I knew none were meant. I frowned at him.
"You're very discouraging, you know that, John? Peter trusts you, not to mention me! You can't just break something so valuable like that..." I tried to reason. John frowned back at me.
"I know. I'm sick and tired of always being the bad guy..." Then he walked out, on me, on the practice, and boy, was Jean fuming. She started screaming and Kitty suggested I get John back or else she'll create havoc. I hurried out and found John standing by the brook which leads to Clairemont's, his head down and lips pouted. I crossed my arms and turned my head to look at him sideways.
"John, you'd better get back inside. People - Jean - will start to worry and you know what that means," I said, tightening my black coat around myself. John turned to me, the fire relentless in his eyes.
"It's wrong. You know it, right?" he asked. I furrowed my brow, confused.
"What are you talking about?"
"Da wedding," he said simply and pushed himself away from the brick bridge. I came over and stood next to him.
"Yes," I answered, blandly. He glanced at me swiftly, and I sighed. "But I guess I've learned to deal with it. If they want to throw their lives away for each other, then let them. No use in trying to stop them."
I was surprised to find John gawking at me. "Those are some new words, Sheila," he muttered, mustering his Aussie lingo. I smirked at that and he turned back toward the church.
"We should go. Jean will get mad," he reasoned. I smiled.
"I think she already is." And no surprise, she was screaming her head off. Practice ended early and I walked with John to Clairemont's, since he promised me a cup of coffee. On our way there, I noticed the accordion player was singing and remembered how Remy clobbered him the last time. And when we sat down with our coffee, John actually paid the guy to sing a song!
Talk about annoying.
So there I sat, drinking my bland coffee (they had banned self service since my last visit) while John talked about Magneto and Peter and Remy and that stupid accordion player with that song once more. That was it. I stood up, pushed him over the brook and quickly walked away. John, seeing me do so, rushed to my side and ran with me until we were clear out of Clairemont's and passing Ivory. John was the first to speak.
"Why- pant- Why did you do THAT?!" he sounded shocked. I caught my breath and gave him a wry look.
"Do I ~look~ like I want an Italian psychotic freelancer to be breathing down my neck wile singing "Bella Notte" accompanied with that annoyingly pitched accordion around his neck?!"
His eyes grew wide with surprise. Then he laughed. Long and loud. I stood there, dumbfounded, until I figured better and started to walk away. He followed.
"Where are you going?" he asked, anxiously. I rolled my eyes.
"Xavier's Institute," I answered and much to my malicious animosity, John still followed.
"Why?"
"Maybe because it's my home?!" It was a better answer than most. He suddenly grabbed my arm and gave me a concerned look.
"The reason why I was laughing," he started, his eyes burning with iridescent fire, "is because you sounded so much of what Remy would ..er.. say." He noticed my frown and grinned at my minor indisposition.
"That's -deplorable-," I snapped, and he laughed. I leaned back, facing him while standing on one leg, and felt my own mouth grin. We walked in silence back to the mansion, where he stopped and while I was punching the numbers in, fingered the gate longingly.
"How does it feel, to be, um, kept behind a gate, away from… people?" he asked, unknowing. I gave him a understanding smile.
"The same way it feels when you take a step toward the world and Magneto keeps you inside." He stared at me, reflecting on this sudden vindication and looked back to the mansion.
"Maybe..er.." his words were unsteady. I opened the gate, and entered, closing it slightly. "...I had really, lots of fun today. Perhaps...we can...do it another time?" I looked at him with a underlying stare.
"Perhaps," I said, my mouth giving him a sugary smile. He then caught my hand through the bars and held it. Giving it a solemn squeeze, he let it drop and I walked away, feeling his eyes on me the entire stretch back.
It's weird. I've never been asked at such wrought manner and yet... so rewarding.
Later, 7:12 p.m.
John called. We arranged to meet tomorrow at 7p.m. He'll pick me up.
Darn. I smiling with ashamed bliss.
January 17, 2003 5:45 p.m., on the top stair of the staircase
I'm soberly intent on not trying to let anyone else find out.
Today, Jean had brought in all the famous chocolates in the world - Hershey's, Almond Roca, geez, you name it - it was Choc Paradise as Kurt munched, Kitty tried, and Remy stood back, aghast the midst of calories and refined coco aroma, watching with an imperious eye and smart tongue.
And I was oblivious, of course, until I happened to come downstairs from my lofty shared room and stepped into an uproarious HELL.
But besides that fact, I was surprised to find them all at the dining table, with mounds of See's wrappers and mint paper on the ground and table. Not to mention, a bit jealous that no one told me of this.
"Hello Rogue!" Jean called from the dining room, her back against some chairs and arms filled with boxes of chocolate, "thinking of joining us in sampling the gift favors for my guests?"
I glanced at her, reflected on the offer, and entered the room. My eyes traveled to the chocolate, to those seated, then to Remy and back to the table.
Could I say Chocolate Haven?
"Where'd you get all these?" I asked, horrified with pleasure. I picked up an Almond Roca and popped it into my mouth, letting the chocolate melt slowly on my tongue.
Jean saw my deluged face of satisfaction and grinned. "Free samples. It's a wonder how people could just give so many boxes to people who wait by the door..."
"And beg," concluded Kitty. Jean gave her a hard stare.
"I wasn't -begging- ," she said with a harsh tone, "just simply asking people to spare some chocolate."
"They thought her desperate," Kurt explained, and gave me sad puppy eyes, "Please mister," he imitated Jean, "spare the chocolate for me." That earned him a simple whack to the head.
Remy had not said anything. He just stood there, his face wrinkled into an expressionless disposition. I swaggered a quick look and smiled.
"Thanks for the chocolate," I told Jean and was about to go, when Jean called me back.
"Hey Rogue," she said, planting more samples on the table," Remy and I are going to catch the late night flicks tonight down at Holly's Drive. Like to come along? It starts at seven."
I was thinking of just blowing it off like that, when I figured I should just come clean with the truth.
"Can't," I said, picking up another Almond Roca. "I've got to be somewhere."
"Where?" Kitty asked, impishly. I gave her a raised eyebrow.
"Date," I said, casually. When I looked up at them, they were all appalled. "What?!" I asked, hurt. "Why do you all look surprised?"
"Because - we are," Kurt declared. I could almost feel the blood rising to my head.
"What? You don't think I could go on a date?!" I asked. Jean shook her head and brightened her smile.
"With who?" her voice was of curiosity. I stole a look at Remy and found his mouth slightly open. My own mouth slid into a simple smile.
"John." Jean clasped her hands to her neck.
"Oh my GOD Rogue! I knew it!" she threw her arms around me, and I didn't push her back. Trust me, it surprised me more now than it did then.
"Where are you going?" Kitty asked, interested. I told her I wasn't sure, but he said he made some reservations some where and Kurt said it better not be at a hotel. I laughed, blushing.
"I'll see," I said, and left the kitchen. But not before stealing another look at Remy. He had put his head down and was shaking it slowly.
IN YOUR FACE, LEBEAU.
Gosh, that finally said, maybe I can have some peace. Better get ready.
Reminder to myself: must ask Kitty if I can borrow her brown tunic.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Ha! Ha! Ha! Things are taking a scary twist. Now you get my gist of why I have two chapters for you! I'll be accepting reviews, thank you very much.