Chapter 5: Driving
Rogue came downstairs at 7pm, ready for the date that Remy had confirmed was still on for tonight. He'd told her to be prompt, as there was a reservation he needed to arrive in time for. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, Remy was nowhere in sight. She glanced around nervously, wondering if it was possible he'd backed out at the last second and had stood her up.
"Guess who?"
Rogue felt something cold clap over her eyes, she reached up with her gloved hands, feeling a pair of hands under hers that were covering her eyes, "I give in," she commented, knowing fine well it was Remy.
He let go of her eyes, and smirked, "you give in way too easy, Chere," he responded.
"If I didn't, I'd have never come on this date with you, sugar," she murmured.
Remy smirked, "I told you not to call me that," he moved back to get a good look at her.
She was wearing a velvet dress that flared out at the skirt, a black suede jacket covered her bare arms. Her hair was down, her make up not as severe as usual.
"Mon Dieu, vous regardez enchanter," he said, beaming.
"I don't know what you just said, but it sure sounded sweet," Rogue raised an eyebrow.
Remy smirked, "you need to learn, French, Chere. Such a…romantic language…" he kissed her glove clad hand. Remy was surprised by how he felt completely at ease once again, already forgetting about the fight they'd had that morning.
They left to the garage, the choice of vehicle for the evening being the X-Men's black van. Remy helped Rogue in, the climbed in himself, "last time I drove this is that night you were drunk, remember?" he asked.
Rogue reached over and turned on the radio as the van pulled out of the garage, "don't remind me," she rolled her eyes, "god knows what I was thinking."
"Everyone cuts loose every now and then, Chere," Remy rested his hand on the steering wheel.
Rogue flicked through radio stations, "Jesus, why is it that all the radio stations in Bayville suck?" she demanded.
Remy smirked, "because it's a boring town, where pop music reigns supreme," he suggested.
Rogue turned the dial on the radio, finally coming upon a song that sounded very familiar, she realised it was the song she and Remy had danced to on her sixteenth birthday. "Freaky," she turned the station quickly.
"We danced to that," Remy said.
"Think that's a sign?" Rogue raised an eyebrow with a soft laugh.
"Could be," Remy leaned back in his seat, Rogue noted the strange rigid way he did.
"Is your back still hurting?" she asked.
"Only a little," He shrugged, wincing at the pain.
"Why didn't you tell me, we could have gone out another time if your back was hurting so bad…" Rogue studied his profile.
"I'm fine," he assured, "lets not argue."
"Fine…" Rogue changed the station, "oooh, I love this song!"
Remy recognised the voice, but couldn't place the song nor the singer, "who is that," he asked.
"Black Sabbath," Rogue stated, "its called 'Changes'," she explained.
"You don't seem like the type of girl to like Black Sabbath," Remy said, "in fact, I would have pictured you as a kind of…I don't know…Slipknot fan," he laughed a little.
Rogue shrugged, "Hey, Ozzy Osbourne is the Prince of fucking Darkness," she giggled, "didn't you know that?"
"Well, that would explain biting the head off a bat, wouldn't it?" Remy made a face.
Rogue gazed out of the window, she hummed to the music a little. It was hard to believe less than nine hours ago, Remy had been in a foul mood with her.
Remy smiled a little, and reached over with his hand, and placed it upon hers, she turned and looked at him and smiled a little, blushing, she looked down. Despite all that had happened lately, for now, everything left wonderful.
"Dinner was excellent, Remy," Rogue said, as she and Remy were walking down a quiet street towards the parking lot, after an expensive – and romantic – candlelit dinner in an Italian restaurant, "and wow, we didn't argue once."
Remy lit up a cigarette, cupping a match against the wind, "thanks for not picking fights with me," he smirked, he tossed the match away and then playfully nudged her in the back, the wind whipping furiously around them.
Rogue walked slowly beside him, her high heels hurting her feet, she limped a little.
"Girls and their shoes," Remy smirked, he took a long drag of his cigarette.
Rogue smirked, "they make the posture so much more appealing," she walked beside him, watching the smoke billowing from his mouth. "When are you going to stop smoking?"
"The day I see you in sensible shoes," he joked, he walked along at her side, slipping his free arm around her shoulders.
Rogue leaned into him a little, her hands in the pockets of her suede jacket, "so…what now?"
Remy drew his breath, "didn't think that far in advance, to be honest," he looked at her, "when we first told the professor we were going to date, we agreed I'd have you home on curfew…" he explained, "and, as mad as I am at him, I don't want to piss him off anymore," Remy flicked the ash off of his cigarette, still walking.
"My curfew isn't until midnight on weekends, you know that…" Rogue said.
Remy glanced at his watch, "nine-thirty now," he shrugged, "what do you want to do then, see a movie?"
Rogue gave an indecisive sigh, "I don't know," she replied, "it seems so…I don't know, mundane for a romantic valentines day night out."
"Perhaps you're right," Remy took another drag of the cigarette.
Rogue took the cigarette from him and tossed it away, "Remy, I'm serious, I want you to stop smoking…"
Remy raised an eyebrow, "lets see, we started fighting at 10am, we'd made up by 12.30pm so that makes it, wow, 9 hours of not fighting, a new record for us, about to be broken of course by none other than Marie D'Ancanto, the girl who loves to argue," he gestured his hands out towards her as if he were presenting a TV show.
Rogue looked at him, seriousness spread out on her face.
"Okay, why should I quit?" he asked, giving in.
"Remy, that shit will kill you," Rogue sighed, she reached over and adjusted his black leather trenchcoat so that it was closed a little more than it had been.
Remy looked down at her, "bein' an X-Man will kill me, so why not indulge in my one and only vice…"
"Oh, come ON!" Rogue gaped, "You're saying smoking is your only vice? You are like a total bad ass, everything you DO is a vice," she walked a little ahead of him.
"Like?"
"Sex, drinking, smoking, masturbating, its all evil, you know," Rogue gave a little smirk, she kept walking, the wind whipping around her skirt.
Remy laughed, "without those things, what use is bein' alive? It'd be pretty boring," he pointed out, he pulled himself up onto a small wall, and began to walk along it like a tightrope act.
"Actually, you're probably right, but see, the others can't really kill you…" Rogue pointed out.
Remy paused for thought, then started walking again, "Alcoholism can kill you a number of ways, uhm, there's…" he trailed off, "alcohol poisoning," he stated, "and liver disease and all the rest," he stepped forwards and quickly placed one hand down on the wall and forced himself up on it so he flipped himself over with his hand. "Sex….HIV, AIDs, not to mention a string of nasty other things you can catch," he explained.
"Masturbating?" Rogue queried.
"Well I don't know if it can kill you, but I heard a rumour that you can go blind," Remy smirked.
"That probably depends on where you're pointing it," Rogue remarked.
Remy burst out laughing, so hard, he slipped off the wall and landed on his backside upon it.
Rogue giggled, and walked over, "You okay?" she had never quite seen him in such a fit of laughter as he was now.
Remy was still laughing, "I banged my ass."
Rogue sat on the wall, "Better than banging someone else's," she put her hands in her pockets, she glanced over the quiet street, the lampposts gave off a soft light that reflected beautifully on the wet sidewalks.
Remy took a pack of cards out of his pocket and began shuffling idly, "decided what you want to do, then?"
"Huh?" Rogue asked, looking at him curiously.
"What you wanna do now? Go to a movie, or go dancing or whatever," he shrugged.
Rogue was silent for a moment, "lets go home…" she looked at him.
"I thought you didn't want to," Remy glanced back at her.
"I changed my mind…y'know, maybe I can take a little of the serum…we can test it…" she looked at him hopefully.
"Marie, sex is not an option for tonight," Remy looked down at the ground distantly.
"Fine, then we can just…I don't know, work around that, and do other stuff?" she asked.
Remy looked at her, "You sure you're ready for all that?"
"All I want is to be close to you…" Rogue stood up.
"Fine…lets go…" Remy stood up, and took her gloved hand within his.
The drive home was silent, there was some tension, and Rogue could feel it in the air, as if the air itself had become solid and tangible, thick and un-breathable. Despite her self consciousness and fear, she was desperate to get back home, inject the serum, and finally, kiss Remy on the lips, without the fear of hurting him.
The mansion was still a bustle of noise when they arrived back, the kids were still up, it being a Friday night, the foyer was empty though, but down the hall they could hear the noise coming from the recreation room.
"We need a hypodermic," Rogue said quietly to Remy as they entered the foyer, Rogue stepping inside in front of him. "We can get one from the hospital wing…" she took her suede jacket off and shook it, it had begun to rain heavily outside. They would have gotten in through the door in the garage leading into a mansion hallway – but someone had locked it. They had only just made it in before the rain had gotten much worse. The rain was loud against the windows, sounding like beads hitting glass.
Remy looked at her, "let me get it, I'm the resident Thief, remember?" he smirked.
"Alright," Rogue smiled.
Remy looked at her, "Are you absolutely sure you—" he broke himself off and sighed, "you know it's a risk…"
"We'll never know until we try…Remy, I'd rather die and touch you than live the rest of my life never being able to," Rogue looked away, "I'm willing to take the risk."
"It's not worth your life."
"Its worth a thousand lives," Rogue looked at him, "please, don't start arguing with me now…"
"Fine…go to my room," he said quietly, knowing Rogue's room was a bit of a chance, since she shared it with Kitty Pryde, "I'll be right up."
Rogue was about to agree and to head up the stairway, when there was a knock at the door that startled them both, she turned to Remy, "who'd be visiting at Ten at night?" She asked, she headed over to the door, and opened it.
A girl stood there, of about eighteen, her long blonde hair plastered to her face and bare arms, her makeup slightly smudged, her lips trembling. She was clad in a white tanktop which, totally soaked through, making it transparent against the flesh of her large proud breasts. Rogue found herself gasping, she knew who the girl was at once.
Remy's voice, angry and alarmed, came out and said the girls name. "Bella Donna…"