Chapter 4: What About the Baby?
Rogue had sat at the table on her own long enough, Remy had obviously left to go to the bar area so he could smoke. She decided, underage or not, she was going there also, at least to find the Professor, Logan or Hank, at least someone to talk to, she would have even danced with Hank right then, even though she hated dancing.
She stood at the large archway of the wall separating the restaurant and dance floor from the bar, the bar area was juts as extravagant looking as the rest of the restaurant, except the smell of smoke and stronger alcohols lay heavy in the air, and Rogue made a face at its unpleasantness.
Logan was standing at the bar alone, the Professor and Hank at a small table over half empty glasses of beer. Rogue headed for the bar and put her hand on Logan's back, "Hey."
"Hey, kiddo," Logan nodded, without even looking at her, "What's up?"
"Not much," she sighed, "Remy's a pain in the ass, I hate him," she sighed.
Logan ordered three beers as a bartender approached, Rogue leaned on the bar. "So, I take it you and the Cajun aren't an item anymore then?"
"Not since we came back," Rogue sighed, she hadn't really relayed the whole story to any of the adults, it seemed to complex and embarrassing to admit that Remy had cheated on her – in his own sick way – with Bella Donna.
"What'd he do?" Logan ordered a wine cooler also.
"Long story," Rogue sighed, she was surprised as Logan handed her the wine cooler, it seemed the most irresponsible thing he could have done was to hand alcohol to a sixteen year old girl in a bar.
"Keep out of sight and don't tell Chuck," Logan smiled, "if the Cajun gets any more annoying, just pour it over him," he smirked.
Rogue laughed a little, "thanks…" she wandered off, holding her glass, she took a quick sip and headed around to the corner of the bar at the other side so she'd be out of Professor Xavier's and Hank's sight. It was there, she spotted Remy LeBeau and some woman – probably in her late twenties – chatting, faces quite close. Rogue snuck a little closer, and listened in.
"So…you're single…?" the woman was asking Remy, she was sipping on a blue drink through a straw in a tall glass. She had long curly brown hair, and brown eyes that twinkled in the overhead lights.
"Definitely," Remy nodded, he seemed very interested in her, Rogue noted that even with the thick sunglasses he was wearing at that moment – obviously to hide his mutant eyes – he was definitely focusing on the woman's lips as she sucked on the straw, Rogue felt fury rush through her veins, they hadn't even been broken up a week and already he was flirting with some other girl – not even a girl, but a grown woman.
"What do you do?"
"I'm an antiques dealer," Remy replied, Rogue gaped at th elie.
"How old are you anyway?" the woman asked of Remy, her eyes never leaving his face.
"Twenty seven," Remy lied, he put out his cigarette on a nearby ashtray that was sitting on the bar, then took a sip of beer in the hand of the arm that had a cast on it, the cast showed through the sleeve of his suit.
"What happened to your arm?" The woman asked, noticing the cast which started from the palm of his hand.
"Oh, fractured it," Remy shrugged, "things get pretty wild in my bed," he smirked.
Rogue frowned, she felt as if she would explode, she decided she couldn't help herself anymore. She downed her wine cooler in one go, then rushed to where Remy and the woman were standing. Before Remy had even the chance to say anything as to why Rogue had approached, Rogue slapped him hard on the face.
"You bastard!" Rogue gasped.
"Excuse me, do I know you?" Remy rubbed his cheek.
"Remy I can't believe you're flirting with another woman!" Rogue gasped.
"Do you know this girl?" The brown haired woman seemed quite displeased.
Rogue suddenly came up with something so devious that she wanted to laugh, but instead, she remained composed, "what about the baby?!"
"Huh…?" Remy raised an eyebrow.
"I just gave birth to your second child a month ago and come here to find you trying to fuck other women!" Rogue lied, she could see the confusion contorting Remy's handsome features.
"What…?" Remy asked, his voice also filled with much confusion and anger.
"You said when I'm eighteen you were gonna marry me!" Rogue faked tears, "I only three and a half more years to go until then! Why are you doing this to me?! Do I not give you enough sex already!?!? Is four times a night not enough."
"Uhm, I think I should go…" the brown haired woman gave a look of complete and utter horror, she left with her drink her hand, disappearing out of a side door.
Rogue smirked to herself and folded her arms.
"That wasn't funny," Remy frowned.
"Yes it was," Rogue smirked.
"We're not together! You had no right to do that!" Remy growled.
"You had no right to sleep with Bella Donna…" Rogue hissed, and with that, she spun on her stiletto heel, and headed back to the restaurant and dance hall area.
She'd sat at the table on her own for ten minutes, when Hank returned from the bar, he looked a little tipsier than he had previously.
"Hank, I wanna dance," Rogue said, standing up, "c'mon."
Hank seemed most surprised, but gave in, nothing would have gave him more pleasure than to dance with one of his students, especially one who right now, seemed to be having the hardest time in life.
The dance floor was less busy, and the music seemed louder. Rogue grabbed Hank's wrist and pulled him to the dance floor, he seemed almost weightless to her with her amazing strength, he let himself be pulled, and soon, they found themselves dancing.
"So…are you going to tell me what Remy did…?" Hank asked of her, his large hand was on her side, his other holding her hand.
"It's a really long story I'd rather not go into."
"Rogue, I'm a teacher and I've also done several counselling courses, if you can't talk to me, who can you talk to?"
Rogue sighed, "its…I dunno, I don't wanna say it."
"You don't trust me?" Hank asked softly. "Rogue, I'm your teacher, your training
instructor, and your friend…"
"Of course I trust you,"
Rogue sighed again, "its just…" she tried to find the words, "I'd rather sort
it out on my own…if that's alright?"
"That's fine, but just remember, I'm always here if you need to talk to me?"
"Thanks, Hank."
Rogue glanced past Hank's arm, seeing Remy sitting back at the table, looking into a half full glass of red wine, swirling it round in the glass absently, he looked distant.
Hank glanced over his shoulder to see Remy, noticing her gaze upon him. "Do…you love him?" he asked.
Rogue looked back at Hank, "does it matter?"
"Of course it does…" Rogue swayed with Hank, she tried to keep in time with the music, but kept falling out of time with Hank.
"Do you think he loves you?" Hank asked.
Rogue found it hard to discuss her love life with someone she'd barely held conversation with since he'd come to the X-Men.
"Sometimes," Rogue shrugged, "Other times…I feel like love is just a stupid game to him," she added.
"Whatever he did…" Hank seemed a little confused, "do you think he had reason?"
"Well, kind of…but I think he could have went around the way it was done a different way," she sighed, "could have avoided it…"
"Have you tried discussing it?" Hank queried.
"Of course I have," Rogue sighed, "every time I get near him I just feel like screaming at him…" she sighed, "I can't keep calm enough to talk to him civilised like," Rogue chewed her lip, she looked around behind Hank again, looking at Remy, he looked more melancholy that she had seen him. His jacket was hanging on the back of the chair, his shirt sleeves were rolled up a little.
"Why…don't you ask him to dance," Hank suggested, "and every time you feel like you wanna yell, focus on the music," he said, "and focus on the rhythm."
"That sounds kind of corny," Rogue admitted.
"It works…believe me," Hank smirked, "now go get him…"
Rogue drew her breath, "I don't think I can…"
"Yes, you can…" Hank let go of her, "go get him, tiger."