AN: The Remy/Rogue issue in Evo isn't going to be my main goal here, though I will mention it later. In my world, yeah there's something there. Not going to ignore the show, after all, they made that clear enough every time the two met up, not even counting that whole Cajun Spice thing. But I'm going on the idea that they simply have an understanding at the moment, and though there is much affection either way, it's uneasy. Understandably. Cause I don't do Romy, just on principle, even though in the Evoverse, I actually really like it.
I think I mentioned before that Evo JP is a kinder, gentler JP. Sort of. He's still a snob and a prick. But this particular chapter will raise issues for JP Marvelverse types, as will some later chapters. Think of it in terms of Evolution, mes amis, and you'll feel a lot better.
Chapter Six: How to Fly (Rogue)
Intense.
Jeanne-Marie, and her brother for that matter, freaked Rogue out a little because they were just so goddamn intense.
The girl was biting her lip now, staring fixedly at the paper before them, trying to explain what kind of costume she thought would be best for her. And, incidentally, for Jean-Paul, who had left the decision up to her.
He was a fairly fashion-conscious kind of guy. At least, from what she knew of him. Seemed a little funny that he wouldn't want a hand in it himself. But hell, they'd only been hanging out for an hour or so every day… it wasn't like she actually knew him, right?
She tried not to think about it. Too much.
During their little sessions, she always seemed to be the one volunteering information. He usually asked a lot of questions, got her talking. He was so quiet, most of the time, so serious. She didn't know quite why she felt ok spilling her guts about her life, about the recent events surrounding the X-Men, about her relationship with her "little brother," to him. But it just seemed that he was so lonely. Like someone who'd made a few mistakes, had a few secrets. At their age, there weren't many of them around. People with skeletons in their closets, or whatever.
Kitty teased her about it. And she guessed she did kind of have a crush on him.
What was it about her and tall dark and handsome strangers. Did they have to be a little dangerous for her to notice, or what?
But when you can't touch another human being, you learn pretty fast to end your crushes before they end you. Besides, just watching him wasn't a crime. And she was learning too. He was a good teacher, despite what Kitty had said about him being impatient and impossible.
She was just mad because he'd bitched her out in the Danger Room that day, anyhow. One week in this place and he thinks he can tell me what to do?! To her credit, though, she was right. Jean-Paul had a tendency to overreact to suggestions and criticisms made by the rest of the team.
It's not like it was easy for him though. He was only there because of his sister. And, really, it's not like the guy had any friends around here, or anyone to talk to.
It was totally innocent. She just thought he needed a friend.
She couldn't give Kitty that explanation, of course. The girl would never believe it.
But then again, that was ok. She didn't need people knocking on her door for a sympathetic ear all the time. Wouldn't want it to get around that she was friendly or anything. Bad enough that the fuzzball had found out.
"What do you think, Rogue? Is it good?"
Rogue was snapped back into reality by the soft voice at her shoulder. "Huh… oh, yeah here, let me see that." She accepted the paper Jeanne-Marie was holding out to her and looked it over. Black costumes, with a silver outline of a star on them. For hers, on her left side. For his, on the right. Curving around their sides, so that when they stood next to each other, the star was complete. The shoulders and legs were accented in silver as well, with a silver stripe straight down the middle.
She liked it, honestly. "Look like good costumes for Aurora and Northstar to me."
It wasn't the actual work on the bars that got her into trouble. It was always the dismount.
Rogue was a great acrobat, and a great fighter. And when all else failed, there was very little her power couldn't stand up to.
But she couldn't land a dismount to save her life, sometimes.
She watched her new friend wind himself around the bars, making it look like the ballet it was meant to be. Impossible movements made to look natural. Like he wasn't even breaking a sweat, just sort of floating around up there. If not for the slight give of the bars when he caught them, she would've thought his powers were to blame. But he did seem to have a very real, solid weight behind him as he swung, flipped, and landed.
She shook her head at him. "Ah'm tellin' ya, ah just don't know how ya can make it look so easy."
Jean-Paul came to her and shook his head, and now she could see a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. So he had been working at least… that made her feel a little better. But his black work-out shirt wasn't sweaty yet. So maybe not working that hard… "It's not," he insisted, sitting himself on the ground in front of her, pulling his legs up under him. "It took a long fucking time for me to figure that out. Just like I can figure out how to break out of one of your throws, but it's going to take me forever."
She grinned, remembering their practice yesterday, and how he'd landed on his back at least fifteen times thanks to one particular move. "Ah guess you have a point."
"Yes, of course I do," he sniffed, reaching out for the water bottle they were sharing, and had been all week, and squeezing a stream of the stuff into his mouth.
"So… this kind of stuff… it's always been hard for you?"
He held the bottle out to her and dragged a bare forearm across his face. The gesture seemed… out of place. Like something a normal human would do. Awkward and uncomfortable. It was nice to know he didn't always look so inhumanly graceful, really. "I don't remember. I think it was. I've been doing this for so long, it's hard to say. But I do remember having trouble with this particular dismount, yes."
Uncertain, but dying to know, she let her eyes catch his. Always dangerous, because Jean-Paul had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. And they were a little scary, sometimes. That intensity. Just like his twin. Only… different. Kind of. "Do ya ever think it has to do with… your powers?"
She saw the muscle in his jaw twitch, and then his face go utterly blank.
And was immediately sorry she'd asked.
"Ah'm sorry, ah don't mean—,"
He shook his head, like someone shaking off sleep, "No, it's fine. It wasn't you. I just…" his eyes flicked down to the ground, then back up to hers for a minute, uncomfortably. When he spoke again, it was in a much more hushed tone. Almost a whisper. "Sometimes, I wonder myself. I mean… how could I really know? Maybe just… naturally, it happens. It's… that's why I don't want to…"
But he fell off, chewing at his lip.
Leaving her rather desperate for more. She reached out and patted his knee, in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. She wasn't very good with this touchy stuff, but he looked almost… huggable at the moment.
Weird. He usually looked about as huggable as a porcupine. "Huggable" was an adjective she rarely applied to anyone, on top of that. And if she did, it was usually Kurt. He was blue and fuzzy. It would be difficult not to find her "little brother" huggable on occasion. Even if he was infuriating, sometimes.
But she knew where JP was going with this train of thought. Any time someone brought up his career as a skier, so recently dropped like a hot potato, he clammed right up. It was pretty clear that he didn't think his abilities as a mutant and his beloved sport were such a great combination. Or such a fair one.
"Why ya don't want to ski anymore?" She guessed.
He nodded, jaw muscle twitching again.
"Ah figured," she drew back her hand now and leaned one elbow on her own knee, using that hand to prop her head up. "Ah mean, why would you leave a life of superstardom just to come and hang out in Bayville with the freaks, huh? Must've been somethin' wrong."
His brow furrowed at her. "You're not a freak."
She smiled, "It's ok, JP. Ah don't mind admittin' to the truth."
He just looked at her a minute longer, face thoughtful, eyebrows still crunched together in that "thoughtful Spock" expression he got sometimes. And she looked back, wishing she had the words to say to make them both feel better. But not entirely uncomfortable with the silence, either. Not really.
"Rogue… would you… do me a favor?"
Now it was her turn to look thoughtful. "Sure, whatever ya need."
He let out a deep breath, and his broad shoulders suddenly slumped. She could see them clearly, since the workout shirt was of the affectionately named "wife beater" variety. And they dropped off to almost perfect curves now, where they were normally straight and held back. "How fast do your powers take effect, when you touch someone?"
She felt a lump rise into her throat. And didn't think about why. "Pretty fast. Ah… ah have no control over them at all. Just a touch and bam, knocked out."
He was biting at his lip again, elfin face far more expressive than usual. Normally, it was totally guarded. Stony, even. At the moment, she could practically see thoughts moving across it. She didn't know what they were, but she was definitely interested. "Is it possible that if I could touch you for just a fraction of a second I could… remain conscious?"
"Ah don't know, honestly," she admitted, slowly. "Ah've done it before without knockin' someone out, to Kitty once. Why?"
"I want you to borrow my powers, and try the routine."
She swallowed hard. Not exactly what she'd expected… not that she'd expected anything… "Ah… well ah guess ah could. What for?"
He took a deep breath, and slowly pulled himself up straighter with it. Shoulders back. Chest out. Familiar Jean-Paul, no, Northstar, again. "To tell me if I'm cheating or not. If it's easier for you, if you land everything with no mistakes, then I'm cheating. And I have been for years. And those medals aren't mine."
This suddenly didn't sound like such a good idea. "Ah don't know, Jean-Paul… some things maybe ya just should never know."
He shook his head, not even seeming to notice that it made more of his hair drop into his eyes. "I need to know, Rogue. I understand if you don't want to do it, that's fine, but if that's your only reason—,"
"It's not that ah don't want to. It's just… well, maybe ah'd absorb your know-how too. Maybe ah'd get the experiences you had, that made you so good. And then if ah was better because of that, and did everything right, you'd think you were a cheater, and for the wrong reason."
He seemed to consider this, chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully now.
"And anyhow, ya don't want me inside your head, do ya? Ah mean, there's a chance ah could see… ya know, your past. Things you did, said."
He shrugged, "I know I like my privacy, but I have nothing to hide. Certainly not from you. I want you to try it. And if you finish properly, I'll at least know there's a greater chance that I cheated… even if on accident."
"It's really that important to ya?"
Jean-Paul nodded, looking her straight in the eye.
She held out her hand , and pulled off the long glove covering it. "Alright, then… but real quick. Don't want you passing out on me."
He held a hand out toward her now, slowly.
Somehow, she felt like it was pulling at her. Drawing her in.
His hand disappeared, and she simultaneously felt a flash of light behind her eyes, familiar, but different every time. An instant sense of vertigo, a picture of a little boy with black hair. A snow covered mountain and a smiling man in a fuzzy hat. Someone yelling in joual, which she suddenly understood, someone holding him in their arms. Swimming in him, for just a fraction of a second, just an instant, too small to see or really feel. How it felt when he and Jeanne-Marie created their light. How it felt when he crossed the finish line. How he hated the cameras and reporters and bullshit. How he loved his home. How he loved his sister. How he'd been so alone for so long. His last…
Kiss!
Rogue's eyes snapped open, and she was momentarily diverted from her train of thought at the sight of a pale, but still conscious Jean-Paul Beaubier sitting before her. His eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath. His mouth worked silently, but no words came out.
She could feel her eyes growing wide, as it dawned on her what she'd just seen.
"You kissed Pietro?"
Jean-Paul shook his head, as if shaking off a dream, trying to wake up. "Pietro? Ah, oh, oui, I did."
"Ah didn't know you were…,"
He blinked a few times, thick black lashes looking too heavy for him, at the moment. "Gay?" he supplied. "Yes, I am."
Stunned, she just stared.
Well… "Oh. Makes sense. You're way too good a dresser to be straight."
"Oui, I could not agree more, chere."
Oh. Well.
Suddenly made her little crush seem pretty goddamn silly, didn't it?
"You like him?"
He still looked rather shell-shocked, however. "Can we talk about this… in a moment… hell of a punch you're packing, girl."
She hadn't landed the dismount. Not even close.
He was standing by that time, having finally shaken off the effects of her power. And when she looked up at him, having rolled over onto her back after flubbing the landing horribly, he was nodding thoughtfully.
She used his powers to levitate herself up to eye level with him.
Really, this was a pretty handy thing to have. And not so hard to use. Just apply thrust in the necessary amounts… felt natural, really. No wonder Aurora loved it so much, if this was what it felt like for her too.
And the exertion of the routine had given her time to recover from her little discovery as well. Blessedly.
Jesus Christ, what a thing to find out about the guy you're crushing on.
Of course, that was all over now. Not that she wasn't disappointed. But practicality came rushing in and she immediately wanted to hear the story on this business with…
"Sweet mother, JP, Pietro?"
He rolled his eyes, but his mouth betrayed him, one side curving up into a reckless sort of grin. "Oh I just did it to tease him. It was so fast no one but he could've seen it. I couldn't resist, after what a shit he was being."
"Don't lah to me," she laughed at him now, "You liked it!"
He shrugged, still grinning, "What if I did?"
"You are so into him! Oh god, that's so gross. All the cute boys around Bayville and you pick that jerk?"
He raised an eyebrow, "I'm a bigger jerk."
"Good point," she dropped herself to standing on the ground and shook her head at him. "Damn boy, you're just full of surprises."
"I aim to please," he was getting control over his grin, and his tone was becoming more dry, more guarded. "Besides, nothing will come of it, it was just a joke."
But she didn't mind.
Really, looking at him, standing there sweaty and gorgeous, she honestly didn't mind. It was almost like she'd traded a frenzied, impossible, childish crush… for a friend. He really hadn't cared if she'd seen all that. How it felt when he skied. Who he wanted. Where he'd been and what he'd seen. It hadn't gone that deep, of course, just images, impressions. But he really, truly, hadn't minded. She smiled at him, and felt her face get a little warm, knowing that what she was about to say would sound hopelessly stupid. "Ah'm… glad you thought you could let me know. About all that stuff, ah mean."
He tilted one head to the side, and rolled his eyes upward. A strangely articulate gesture that said something like "Yeah, go figure." What came out of his mouth, however, was, "Well, you talked to me about Kurt… and Mystique… seems like it's only fair, really. Anyhow, it's not like you're about to go all homophobe on me, being a girl and all, so whatever, right?"
She laughed at him, face still a little flushed, but not as bad as she'd expected. "Ah guess that's true."
"But," he started, now turning away and starting to collect his things from the floor as he spoke, "It's not as if I want to hide anything, either. I spent the last four years of my life hiding what I am. I don't particularly want to spend the rest of it the same way."
She joined him in picking up their things, which seemed to have scattered across a surprisingly large area of the gym floor. "Then you've come to the right place, buddy."
When they were done, they walked side by side toward the locker rooms. Girls on the left, boys on the right. And he stopped and turned to her. "Thank you, Rogue. I know that didn't really prove anything. But… I do feel a little better, now."
"Guess you're just that good," she shrugged, smiling.
More than she'd smiled all at once in a long time, it seemed.
"So I've been told," he raised an eyebrow again.
Ok, so maybe he still made her a little weak in the knees.
But as she took herself into the locker room, laughing at his singular arrogance, she felt happy. For the first time in a long time.
She made sure to put her normal bored face back on before she went back down to see what was happening in the mansion, before dinner.
In the rec room, she found Kurt, Jeanne-Marie, Bobby, and Kitty facing off over who should be in control of the television.
"Nein¸ it's time for Kenshin!" Her fuzzy blue brother was admonishing, waving the coveted black remote high over his head.
"No way we are missing it tonight guys! Forget it!" Kitty threw in.
"Aw, don't be stupid," Bobby whined, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking out his lower lip. The kid could pout like a champ, when he wasn't busy giggling over his latest prank. "We have to watch Will and Grace."
Jeanne-Marie nodded her assent.
"As the oldest member of the X-Men present, I don't think it's an appropriate show for you," Kurt tried to strike a dignified pose.
Kitty and Jeanne-Marie laughed, and Bobby made a jump for the remote. Kurt disappeared with a bamf, leaving Bobby to choke on his sulfur, and reappeared on the other side of the couch, standing on it.
"Will and Grace is on re-runs right now!" Kitty recovered enough to remind them.
"You own Kenshin on video!" Bobby shot back, launching himself at Kurt again.
Kurt bamfed to the other side of the couch, once more, and Jeanne-Marie was suddenly beside him. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on one fuzzy cheek. Kurt, for his part seemed frozen. Grinning like an idiot.
That made Rogue wince a bit. She knew Jean-Paul was a little uncomfortable with what a flirt his sister was. She was fragile, after all. And the way she ran around kissing every boy in the Institute… well it couldn't be good for anyone… but she kept quiet and watched the farce unfolding before her.
Kitty was laughing again, "Oh no you don't sister!" she jumped onto the couch and dove for the remote, still clutched tenuously in one three-fingered hand.
Bobby, determinately biting at his lower lip, shot a very thin ice beam at her hand, meant to keep it from closing in around the remote.
Kitty phased through the ice… and then through the remote.
The black thing crackled in Kurt's hand, and he suddenly jumped back to life and dropped it into the couch cushions with a surprised cry of, "Mein Gott!"
Kitty stopped phasing just in time to send Kurt, Jeanne-Marie, and herself falling into a flailing pile of limbs on the couch, giggling and pushing like a bunch of five year olds.
Slowly, Bobby was trying to sneak away, but Rogue stepped into the doorway to block his path and raised her eyebrow at him. "You didn't think you were getting away, frosty?"
His brown eyes widened in what had to be mock terror.
"Drake! You're so dead!" The mutant pile-up managed to disentangle itself on the couch and one rather dangerous looking Kitty Pryde was now coming toward the youngest member of the X-Men, certain death in her eyes.
Jeanne-Marie, also back to standing, was giggling still, "But you're the one who shorted out the remote, Kitty!"
"That's so not the point! Get over here you little snowball!"
Bobby grinned hugely at Rogue, ducked around her, then shot off down the hallway.
Kitty phased right through her, and followed him in hot pursuit.
Rogue shrugged, and moved to the couch, flopping herself down between the now settled Kurt and Jeanne-Marie. They were watching Kenshin, as it turned out. "Ah thought you wanted Will and Grace," she commented to the other girl.
Jeanne-Marie shrugged gently, "I only felt bad because Bobby was alone. Two against one was unfair, non? I really don't watch much television, it doesn't matter to me what we watch."
Rogue found herself smiling at the girl. "That's real sweet of ya, JM."
Jeanne-Marie lowered her eyes, still smiling, then looked back to the TV.
"You're not much like your brother are ya?"
"He's nicer than he wants everyone to think," the other girl giggled.
She supposed that was true. And she had seen this quiet, painfully shy girl before her turn into an incredible flirting machine at the drop of a hat, like she had just a minute ago with Kurt.
But it seemed out of place somehow. Like this was the real her, and that other stuff was just…
Something else, anyhow. But not like her. Not really.
Oh well, the twins were nothing if not a bit odd. Made them interesting, she supposed.
With that thought, she moved to prop her stocking feet up on the coffee table… and landed them right in a puddle of freezing water.
"Bobby!"