author's disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. Money made from this = zero dollars.
At this point I am also apologizing in advance for any and all accents in this story. I've tried my best, given that all I have to go on is my own research. I've never been to New Orleans, Mississippi or Australia, nor have I had continual contact with people from those areas. However, I feel that even my poor attempts at writing accented speech lend a certain texture that I want in place, therefore I will keep doing it. Apologies again. Additionally, I'm apartment-hunting right now and so updates may be...sporadic.
* * *
A woman...girl, sittin' on th' edge o' th' couch. Whoever she was, she was either th' world's stupidest or most considerate intruder.
Or maybe not even an intruder after all. Ah heard John let out a little sigh.
"Anne," he said, wary. "What're you doing here?"
Ah turned ta Remy an' mouthed 'Anne?', but he only shrugged an' tossed himself into the nearest chair, crossin' an ankle over his knee an' lookin' between Anne an' John. Waitin' for the show ta start.
Anne glanced at us nervously. She was a sweet thing in a way, delicate, with wide eyes an' a narrow mouth, a pointed chin.
"I don't know what to do," she confessed, voice wobblin'. "You've always been nice to me."
Ah wondered briefly if she was fakin' it. Ah've run across too many girls in my life who aren't above usin' tears as a form o' misdirection. But Ah could see that John was still lookin' at her suspiciously an' Ah figured, lyin' or not, it was his call ta make. Ah was curious 'bout how he knew th' girl in th' first place.
John sat down next ta her gingerly and patted her shoulder like he was afraid she was gonna break. He shot Remy a 'help me' look, but Remy only smiled an' shook his head. "It...uh...can't be all bad, right?"
"But I've been hiding something terrible!" she protested, swingin' her head violently. Her light brown hair bounced above her shoulders.
Ah saw John swallow a smile. "What could possibly be so terrible, then?"
Anne looked at him sharply. "Don't laugh at me!"
John held up his hands in surrender. "I wouldn't."
"I'm a mutant," she said in a small voice. "See?" She stared at her hands for a few seconds and th' tips o' her fingers started ta glow. It was my turn ta smother my laughter. Th' girl was ET. "It's horrible. They'll kill me if they find out." Big tears rolled down her face. Remy looked bored outta his mind, but Ah noticed that he'd dropped his cheek ta his palm and was casually shadin' his eyes with his fingers.
"They won't kill ya," John assured her, even though there was a tremble o' doubt in his voice. "But I'm sure they won't let you come to anymore meetings, eh?"
"That's as good as being dead," she said flatly. It chilled me ta hear it, because it really meant that this girl, barely older than me, was a honest-ta-god member o' the Friends o' Humanity. John stole a quick look at me an' then Remy before pullin' Anne gently ta her feet.
"Why don't we go somewhere an' talk, huh?"
"Okay," Anne sniffed. She scooped up her coat from where it'd been restin' on th' arm o' the couch. She looked back an' forth between me an' Remy. Uncomfortable. "Um...I'm sorry. It was nice to meet you."
Ah smiled, even though she hadn't really met us at all an' Ah still wasn't sure how she'd gotten into th' apartment in th' first place.
"John?" Ah whispered as he walked by.
"I'll find out," he replied. "Watch out for Remy. He looks like he's growin' some prickers."
Once John had escorted Anne into the hallway an' shut th' door behind 'em, Ah settled myself, crosslegged, at Remy's feet. He wasn't lookin' at me. An' he was tryin' real hard at it. Ah touched his knee gently. "What's up?"
He still wouldn't face me an' his cheek was partially eclipsed by his hair. "Dat girl," he said hopelessly, raisin' his hands an' lettin' 'em fall again. "What's de point of anyt'ing if dere'll always be girls like dat?"
Ah sighed, easin' onto my back. Ah toed my shoes off an' braced my sock feet against his shins. "That's the 60 million dollar question, huh? Ah mean, we started out ta find what FOH was an' then we found out an' now John's in deep with 'em, but now what?"
"Exactly," he said dully. "Dere's no crime in angry words." He reached down an' rubbed my feet absently, fingertips tracin' in the hollows below my ankles.
"Thing is, they don't stay angry words forever, right? Somethin's bound ta start happenin' an' then we'll stop it. An' until it does..." Ah did my best ta shrug.
"Until it does, what?" Tried not ta roll my eyes. He could be damn stubborn when he was bored.
"Until it does, how was your day?" Ah asked pointedly.
His smile was crooked. "At least I picked de right profession." Reachin' out, he tugged my calves, bringin' me closer.
"That right?" Ah hooked my toes under his thighs.
"Dey all t'ink de eyes are punk rock...somet'ing." Effortlessly, Ah raised him into th' air. Never said there weren't advantages ta bein' strong. He readjusted his body until he was lyin' flat across my shins, peerin' down into my face. There was a jolt o' memory when Ah realized that Mystique used ta play with me th' same way when Ah was just a kid those rare times she'd come ta visit. 'Flyin' she'd called it. Ah'd completely forgotten an', surprised, Ah almost dropped Remy. Th' look he gave me was more questionin' than frightened.
Deliberately ignored th' question, o' course. "Hardcore?" Ah suggested.
Somethin' happened, too quick for me ta follow, but Remy rolled from my legs onto the floor beside me. He lay his head across my stomach an' sighed. "Not'ing but."
* * *
Woke up wit' a start when John's key scraped in de lock, my head jerking up. Let it fall when I saw who it was.
Rogue stirred when I moved. "Five more minutes mmm kay?"
"I see you two've been productive," John said.
Brushed de question away and rolled t' my feet. "Your girlfriend have anyt'ing interesting t' say?"
He looked at me darkly. "Not my girlfriend."
I patted him on de back reassuringly. "I know dat." Y'd have t' know John like I do t' read dat little flicker of sadness dat sparked in his face right den. John had a tragic an' (t' me) inexplicable crush on Mystique. Never asked him 'bout it much. De man always looked like you'd just slapped him if de subject ever came up. "Dat girl's some kinda nutcase, neh?"
John threw himself on de couch like he was daring it t' break. "Not bonkers enough, unfortunately." He rubbed a hand across his face. "Y' don't know what it's like, goin' to those meetings."
"Non," I said quietly. De boy hadn't meant it viciously, but all de same it hurt. I should have known what it was like going t' those meetings.
John lowered his hand long enough t' peer at me over de edges of his fingers. "You're not still on that, are you?"
"Not much." I grinned even though I couldn't help feeling a tug of sadness at de back of my throat.
"Good, because I need all three of your brain cells working for me right now."
"Fils de putain (son of a bitch)," I said fondly.
"Likewise, I'm sure," John shot back.
"So what you need my help for so bad dat y' ask so pretty?"
"I told her."
"Told her y' used t' be a woman? Dat y' like t' eat t'ings better off cooked? Told her what?" He tilted his eyebrows at me meaningfully. "Y' didn't."
"Had to."
"Fuck. Why?"
John sat up. "Look, I didn't want to tell 'er I was a mutant, I had to. She trusts me. She's been with the FOH longer than I have. People that're just names t' me...Creed and Bastion...she knows 'em. She can bring me along." John stared angrily at his hands. "D'you want to do something about it or not? Mebbe you want ta sit around all day waitin' for opportunity to cold-cock you upside the head, but I don't."
"Dat's not de point!"
"What is 'de point'?" he shot back nastily. "I'd love ta hear it. I'd love ta hear why the last three months with these fucking lunatics hasn't been a bloody waste of my time."
"Dere was another way t' do dis and y' know it."
He threw up his hands before sinking back into de couch, glaring. "Yeah. I could've stayed in and worked my way up. It only woulda taken five years or so."
Didn't want t' fight wit' John. He was making sense. But I couldn't help feeling anxious 'bout it. De FOH were no small change thugs. We were all in danger if dey found out. Looked away from John and was startled t' see dat Rogue was awake and staring at us intently.
"How long y' been up, chére?"
She pulled herself t' her feet, stretching her body out. Noticed de flash of pale skin on her stomach when her shirt rode up. She yawned. "Long enough ta know that ya two're fightin' over somethin' that's past an' done. Now what're we gonna do? This Anne chick trustworthy?"
"She's scared out of her effin' mind. And she hates herself. Usually a good combination," John said grimly.
"An' she trusts ya, right?"
"How could you not?" He smiled deep enough t' show de hidden dimples in his cheeks.
"Ask a stupid question, right?" Meanwhile, when she'd been talking, she'd come up beside me and slid her gloved hand t'rough mine. Tightened my fingers t' lace wit' hers. "Who're Creed and Bastion?"
John visibly relaxed. He ran a hand t'rough his hair, making de typically manic tufts even wilder. "Not sure," he said. "Far as I can tell, they're the ones who started all this mess."
"Y' t'ink dey've got other plans in mind?"
"I wouldn't bet against it."
T'ought 'bout dat for a moment. "Y' t'ink y' can arrange for a delivery t' de office?"
"Shouldn't be too difficult. Why?"
Rogue opened her mouth t' say somet'ing, but I cut her off. "Isn't t'ievin'. I'm about t' become useful."
* * *
pyromaniac: I almost asked which flirting, although it's not too present here, because Remy and John do a bit of it in my other stories. Ah, memories.
Niteflite: I wasn't gonna say anything about your brain fart, although it was pretty darn funny.
TrunksGirl: Eh, the Shelia thing was probably a bad call on my part. I've gotten into the habit of translating Remy's Cajun French. Also, I love John. Well, to be fair, my version of John because he's had, what, 5 minutes of screen time and nothing but manic cackling. Sigh.
ishandahalf: Boourns to Smallville? Eh, I possibly enjoy the fandom more than the show, but that's neither here nor there. And if you'll note, the return of Remy's thievery (must only use powers for good!)
Panther Nesmith: I quite enjoy the 50s slang and I had a friend in high school whose catch-phrase was "cool beans." I think that Rogue just likes giving John a hard time about stuff is all. But even cooler is using embarassing 80s slang. Umm, like adding "yo" to the end of everything.
Tenshi Kanashii: I plead harmless ignorance. The closest I've been to Australia is spending a year in England, which is to say -- not close at all. I'm finding it very difficult to replicate the rythmn of speech patterns (because that strikes me as the largest difference -- we all structure our sentences a little differently). I do see Pyro as a cute and funny dork though, so at least that's right on. And re: the title, I probably should have specified it as "outdated Australian slang" but I do like it. I could have called it "The Cat's Pyjamas" and achieved a similar effect -- I like the phrase, even if it isn't in use anymore.
Chrissie, Rogue Star & B.M. Wraith: Thanks! Ask anyone, I always do finish my fanfics...eventually.
Ryoko Subaru: Rogue could touch throughout a lot of the last story (Envie) but she can't anymore. Although maybe...eh, on second though, I'm not giving away anything, just in case I don't get around to writing it in. Ironically, I think their current situation is a whole lot more balanced and healthy than, say, the x-mansion. Not that I'm down on it, but this makes more sense to me somehow.
Neurotic Temptress: Hi! Welcome back to my shortness. These chapters are shorter than I'm used to writing, but I think that'll all change when things really get moving, ohhh, let's say next chapter. In fact, I guarantee it. The Smallville fic is actually fully written, so I promise it won't be taking up any of my time (although part of it's stuck in beta-land purgatory right now). The great apartment hunt I can't promise anything, except that I've got a few surprises running around in my brain and hopefully they'll be shocking and amazing.
