She had joined the Acolytes thinking she had finally found a home away from home. It seemed perfect: Piotr, the responsible, caring, father-like figure of the house; Pietro, the annoying younger brother who was constantly searching for ways to make her life miserable; St. John, the older brother whom she suspected was probably on drugs of some sort and always looking for his own trouble anyway; Magneto, the uncle, perhaps, who came by for a visit every once in a while, but took almost no interest in much other than his own well-being; Sabertooth, the aloof figure whom she couldn't even give a category because the two always avoided each other.
The only problem with her "perfect family," she realized, was Remy. He didn't fit in any family-like category, Katie realized, simply because she knew that wasn't where he belonged.
Katie and Remy had hit it off from the start: from the moment she walked in with Magneto, he had called her chere and was wondering why, "Such a pretty t'ing would be hangin' around wid people like Gambit and 'is compan-yuns." She had merely managed to turn a deep crimson and utter something about feeling comfortable already.
Now the flirting was just a game between them-he would make a flattering comment or try one of his latest pick-up lines on her and she would politely respond negatively, explaining why this latest move was the lamest of all his attempts. She was grateful for the relationship, as it had helped to warm her up in regards to boys, and she had lost the need to blush every time he said something sweet about her.
Well, except for one time. It was just yesterday, Katie thought with a small laugh, chuckling at the strange events that had taken place.
She was washing the Acolyte motorcycle, hoping to maybe take it for a spin before Piotr made everybody get something to eat. Hell, maybe she could even find time to grab herself some dinner-The steel Russian had mentioned something about trying an old traditional meal of his regarding fish and-Katie shuddered at the mere thought of it. The bike was finally clean and she stood to admire the beauty she had created before she took it out on the mud-ridden streets of the place they fondly called Hell.
A step back to get another view had almost resulted fatally, as Katie misjudged the uneven flooring of the makeshift garage and tumbled backwards, expecting to meet a very unpleasant end to her life with a snap crack against the tools table on the wall. She had only met fluffy, though, and had flown up to see what had saved her from such a horrible fate.
Red and black had met pale a blue at that moment, and she grinned as she stared into the sparkling demonic eyes of her best friend.
"Chere bedder be careful or she gonna find 'erself not so comfy," he had stated, and she nodded in agreement, giving him a silent thank-you hug before turning away. "Where ya goin'?" He asked finally, as she mounted the bike.
"Out. I'm hoping to avoid 'Lossus's-erm-'try-me' for tonite. I heard it's going to be fish and you know how my stomach turns at the mere mention." She had grabbed at her quickly nauseating stomach for emphasis.
"Aww, cherie. Ya makin' it 'ard fer Remy ta love ya, regardless of 'ow perfect ya may seem ta be" he had joked, taking her gloved hand in his own gloved one and giving a light squeeze.
She felt her cheeks grow scarlet at this, knowing that even her hair was probably blushing at this point. She thanked whatever God might exist that she had already put on her helmet, and maybe only her blushing neck would give herself away. She needed a retort line, and fast.
"You don't love me," she stammered, managing to make it sound humorous and a lot like laughter, "You-"
He took her arm tightly, causing her to stop mid-statement.
"Try me," he stated earnestly, and she noticed-even through the helmet she wore-that his eyes had grown dark, and no longer shined with the humor they had just contained.
Not knowing how to respond, she had nodded dumbly and started the engine of the motorcycle, cursing it for taking so long.
As soon as it had started, she had zoomed off, and only returned later that night-full after a nice dinner and tired after a little bit of window-shopping. She still hadn't forgotten the look Remy had given her, the fact that he had referred to himself in 1st person and the fact that he hadn't been laughing still fresh and perturbing in her mind.
She was able to avoid him and the others for the rest of the night, save one nasty little interruption from Pietro demanding she do one or many of his chores (to which she tried to give him a black eye) and one from St. John, wondering if she had seen his lighter, as some fire-crazed freak seemed to have taken it from his room. She had carefully pointed to the missing lighter in his other hand and led him from her room with a disturbed sigh.
Today had been just as successful at avoiding the Cajun, or at least thus far. She had woken up to find that he had left earlier that day with most of the other Acolytes and plans somewhere downtown. She had yet to see any of them return, and Piotr had not said much to her since he was locked in his room, drawing something that had sounded like, "sajdfahdkhfsh" to Katie when she had asked about it.
She now sat in her room, fidgeting with one of the dangly-thingies hanging from her ceiling. With a bored huff, she decided it wasn't sufficient entertainment, and quickly pipfed herself to the kitchen in search of food. Maybe a quick pipf spree would lead her with enough desire to eat and then take a nap, and away from the thoughts she was having…
"Whoa, Sheil, watch where ya pop, roight?" she heard, and turned to see St. John thrown against the wall beside them, hand on his heart asif something had just scared him.
"Oh…" she stated dully, "Sorry 'bout that, Pyro."
She then turned to see none other than he-whom-she-had-been-avoiding. She shot him a sheepish grin as she waved as cheerfully as she could, feeling the heat of a blush rising to her ears and back.
"'Ey, chere, Remy ain't seen ya in a while."
"Well, if you would've looked for me, you would have found me right where I always am!" she choked out, forcing a laugh.
Even the known-to-be-oblivious St. John cocked an eyebrow at her response.
"Erm… Anybody hungry? I was thinking of running some sort of training in a minute here and need a snack…" she stated, trailing off as most of the people in the kitchen shrugged and disappeared.
The only people left in the room after a moment's time were she and Remy.
"So………." She trailed off again, hoping to start a nice conversation… that would hopefully remain flirt-less…
"Yesterday," he began, and it took Katie all she had not to let out a cry of frustration.
"Yesterday…" she choked out, avoiding meeting his eyes like she had in the spoken day.
He closed the distance between them and took her hands in his. She gulped down a breath of air, forcing herself to focus on the breathing that had just become so short.
"Remy meant what he said," he whispered to her, finally locking her eyes with his.
"About me being hard to love?" she squeaked, cracking a grin quickly.
Remy said nothing, but rolled his eyes and leaned in, crushing his own lips against hers. She let out a small sound of protest, but quickly took it back as she threw her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer, but he pulled away after just a moment.
"Dat's what Remy meant," he grinned, chuckling lightly.
"Oh." Katie blushed again. "Well…" she stated, a pensive look on her face, "Good. 'Cause Katie means it, too!"
Before he had the chance to reply again, she pulled him down for another kiss.
"WHOO-HOO! ROIGHT ON!" the heard from the crack in the door. Both chose to ignore it, making mental promises to murder Pyro in his sleep later that night…