Title: The Blood of Roses
by: Satine16
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this story. They belong to Marvel. I
simply write for fun, and I make no money at all, so please don't sue me. Thanks!
Remy LeBeau sat on the balcony of his cheap motel room and stared into nothingness.
There was too much light pollution to see the stars. The incessant buzzing to the Motel sign
made an earnest attempt to drown out the banging, moaning and hollering coming from the
couple in the next room. He was halfway through his carton of Marlboro's and had polished off
about a third of the bottle of whisky he had picked up. The bags under his eyes were a deep
purple, and his five o'clock shadow had become unruly. He had become the polar opposite of
the man that had attended the opera merely a few evenings earlier.
He wanted to become so numb that he would merely pass out. Eventually, after a few
more cigarettes he was too exhausted and he stumbled to his bed. He had returned to the city that
evening to be in a familiar environment. One that didn't offer the luxury of Xavier's mansion, or
of a woman's love. The world around him began to fade to black as he listened to the woman
praise Jesus as she and her partner rocked the paper thin walls.
Dawn broke through the windows with a cruel glare, and pierced his fragile eyelids. He
rolled from the bed, stumbled into the bathroom, vomited in the grimy sink and through away his
liquor and cigarettes. He left a hundred dollar bill on the front desk as he wandered out into the
sunlight.
He felt half formed. Slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses as he entered the small coffee
shop. The entire caf‚ was lit with the blue glow of the sunrise, and he sat morosely at the
counter.
"What can I get cha?"
"Coffee, black."
He looked up at the waitress. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-five. Her
hair was blonde, and she had floppy bangs that fell into her eyes. Really warm brown eyes. And
a sweet smile. Not seductive or adult, sweet and genuine, unlike many of the people Remy
knew.
He knew that he looked like crap. Like a hung over scumball, just back from screwing a
cheap prostitute all night long. He hadn't brushed his teeth or showered. And now he sat with
the truckers, and the men that worked the grave yard shift; a small existence of its own entirety.
Yet she brought him his coffee quickly and sat next to him at the counter.
"My name's Charlie."
"Remy," he extended his hand and shook her freshly manicured one.
Rogue wandered into the Danger Room early that morning. Both emotionally and
physically exhausted, she wondered if she could handle this.
"You're late, kid."
"Ah am not. Not mah fault you're old and can't sleep!"
They did this once a month. It was their custom. There was only one rule. No holding
back. Thus was their relationship. They had always been brutally honest with one another, if not
just brutal. She loved him for telling her she was a foolish little girl. He loved her for
understanding his rough exterior was, simply an exterior, and not letting anyone else know.
She dealt the first blow. But he caught her fist in his own and knocked her to the mat
with a swift kick. She came back with a hard jolt to the abdomen, sending him across the floor.
"Does...Joe...know...we...do...this?"
"No...Ah'm...delicate...remember?" with that she dealt a hard elbow to his gut.
"Whatever you say, kid," and he socked her in the chest.
While attempting to catch her breath she gasped, "Joe doesn't have ta know Ah brawl
with ya when the mood strikes me."
He grabbed her in a tight choke hold and asked, "What else don't he know?"
"He...loves...me," she choked and struggled to escape.
"Yeah well, I guess I'm gonna be his new best friend," he let her go and she fell to te
ground.
"Why?"
"Somebody needs to help him with that forty percent of you he hasn't been introduced to
yet. He won't know how to handle it."
She glared at him and said, "He understands me, Logan."
"He understands the Nicole Kidman image you've given him. But he gives you white
roses and follows politics not Christianity. And he doesn't know what you've got inside a you. I
can't wait for him to wake up."
With that Logan left and Rogue collapsed breathless and annoyed onto the blue mats.
Maybe he was right.
She and Joseph spent their 'date night' browsing wedding catalogues and eating Ben and
Jerry's. They were perched in the kitchen when Remy came in. He was with some gorgeous
blonde, and Rogue couldn't help but stare as they stumbled in laughing. Remy caught her gaze
and she quickly pretended to be laughing at Joseph's sarcastic comment. But she saw in plain
view that the girl was nibbling on his ear and he started to lead her to his room.
He spent the night nestled in between the girl's thighs. He wanted to make her moan and
cry. He wanted everyone to know that they were there. He wanted Rogue to know that he didn't
need her just as much as she didn't want him.
by: Satine16
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved in this story. They belong to Marvel. I
simply write for fun, and I make no money at all, so please don't sue me. Thanks!
Remy LeBeau sat on the balcony of his cheap motel room and stared into nothingness.
There was too much light pollution to see the stars. The incessant buzzing to the Motel sign
made an earnest attempt to drown out the banging, moaning and hollering coming from the
couple in the next room. He was halfway through his carton of Marlboro's and had polished off
about a third of the bottle of whisky he had picked up. The bags under his eyes were a deep
purple, and his five o'clock shadow had become unruly. He had become the polar opposite of
the man that had attended the opera merely a few evenings earlier.
He wanted to become so numb that he would merely pass out. Eventually, after a few
more cigarettes he was too exhausted and he stumbled to his bed. He had returned to the city that
evening to be in a familiar environment. One that didn't offer the luxury of Xavier's mansion, or
of a woman's love. The world around him began to fade to black as he listened to the woman
praise Jesus as she and her partner rocked the paper thin walls.
Dawn broke through the windows with a cruel glare, and pierced his fragile eyelids. He
rolled from the bed, stumbled into the bathroom, vomited in the grimy sink and through away his
liquor and cigarettes. He left a hundred dollar bill on the front desk as he wandered out into the
sunlight.
He felt half formed. Slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses as he entered the small coffee
shop. The entire caf‚ was lit with the blue glow of the sunrise, and he sat morosely at the
counter.
"What can I get cha?"
"Coffee, black."
He looked up at the waitress. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-five. Her
hair was blonde, and she had floppy bangs that fell into her eyes. Really warm brown eyes. And
a sweet smile. Not seductive or adult, sweet and genuine, unlike many of the people Remy
knew.
He knew that he looked like crap. Like a hung over scumball, just back from screwing a
cheap prostitute all night long. He hadn't brushed his teeth or showered. And now he sat with
the truckers, and the men that worked the grave yard shift; a small existence of its own entirety.
Yet she brought him his coffee quickly and sat next to him at the counter.
"My name's Charlie."
"Remy," he extended his hand and shook her freshly manicured one.
Rogue wandered into the Danger Room early that morning. Both emotionally and
physically exhausted, she wondered if she could handle this.
"You're late, kid."
"Ah am not. Not mah fault you're old and can't sleep!"
They did this once a month. It was their custom. There was only one rule. No holding
back. Thus was their relationship. They had always been brutally honest with one another, if not
just brutal. She loved him for telling her she was a foolish little girl. He loved her for
understanding his rough exterior was, simply an exterior, and not letting anyone else know.
She dealt the first blow. But he caught her fist in his own and knocked her to the mat
with a swift kick. She came back with a hard jolt to the abdomen, sending him across the floor.
"Does...Joe...know...we...do...this?"
"No...Ah'm...delicate...remember?" with that she dealt a hard elbow to his gut.
"Whatever you say, kid," and he socked her in the chest.
While attempting to catch her breath she gasped, "Joe doesn't have ta know Ah brawl
with ya when the mood strikes me."
He grabbed her in a tight choke hold and asked, "What else don't he know?"
"He...loves...me," she choked and struggled to escape.
"Yeah well, I guess I'm gonna be his new best friend," he let her go and she fell to te
ground.
"Why?"
"Somebody needs to help him with that forty percent of you he hasn't been introduced to
yet. He won't know how to handle it."
She glared at him and said, "He understands me, Logan."
"He understands the Nicole Kidman image you've given him. But he gives you white
roses and follows politics not Christianity. And he doesn't know what you've got inside a you. I
can't wait for him to wake up."
With that Logan left and Rogue collapsed breathless and annoyed onto the blue mats.
Maybe he was right.
She and Joseph spent their 'date night' browsing wedding catalogues and eating Ben and
Jerry's. They were perched in the kitchen when Remy came in. He was with some gorgeous
blonde, and Rogue couldn't help but stare as they stumbled in laughing. Remy caught her gaze
and she quickly pretended to be laughing at Joseph's sarcastic comment. But she saw in plain
view that the girl was nibbling on his ear and he started to lead her to his room.
He spent the night nestled in between the girl's thighs. He wanted to make her moan and
cry. He wanted everyone to know that they were there. He wanted Rogue to know that he didn't
need her just as much as she didn't want him.