Okay... I have very short chapters simply cos I'm copying this up from a notebook... I also am a very busy bee. I know that's no excuse but that's the way it is... I will try to make the chapters longer.
Oh the accents or lack there of.... Sorry really sorry. If some kind dear wants to they can contact me and they can help me cos I may have studied French for 4 years but I don't know any anymore cos I don't use it. *shrugs* Sorry. E-mail Beckywad441@aol.com...
Disclaimer: Stands... I don't own... except Connie Wilson and the immortal dudes (when I finally get to that bit *Rolls eyes*)
Chapter 3
Connie twisted the knob to her room. It was big and airy, but far too plain for her taste. White walls plain blue floor. The king-size bed was in the centre of the room. The room had an en suite with a shower. There were clothes in the draws. She checked the room over thoroughly for listening devices and a clean connection to a phone line. Though the room it's self didn't have a phone line the room next door did. There were no devices.
She pulled a vest top and some jogging pants from the draws and headed to the shower. She undressed and turned the shower down to low. She had always hated hot showers. Cold showers made her tingle. Cold showers were a way of keeping her flame powers in check.
The water ran over her slender body. Her hair flopped over her brown eyes. It trickled down the curves of her body. She leant forward laying her arms against the cool tiles and sighed. She found herself drifting to sleep so decided to go to bed. She turned the shower off, and towelled herself dry.
She looked at herself in the mirror directly opposite. Faint bags lined her heavily showed eyes. Blue eye shadowed and black eyeliner merged down her cheeks. Her dark brown hair hung in artificial dreadlocks caused by the water.
She wiped away the smudges and headed over the bed kicking her dirty clothes into a pile in the corner of the room. The room was too warm for her taste so she gently walked over the bay window and opened the two unfixed windows half way, and drew the blue cotton curtains. Steadily she turned and crawled into bed.
***
Gambit gently knocked on Connie's door. It was late evening 2015 by his watch. He had expected her to wake him up. After checking on her an hour previously to make sure that she was ok he had headed downstairs to make an appearance.
He gently turned to knob when her heard to reply. He silently made his way to her bedside. 'She looks so peaceful.' It was rare to see her look at ease, she was always thinking sometime she thought too much for Remy's liking. He stroked her cheek. She grabbed his wrist and bolted up in bed. She released his arm. He gave her a smile to reassure that he was all right.
"You never were difficult to wake up." Remy smirked.
She wiped to sleep from her eyes. She stretched her arms above her head and sighed. She caught a look from Remy suggesting that he was worried about her.
"I'm fine, Remy. Just a little wiped out." He snorted. She groaned as she looked over at the alarm clock. Pulled off the covers and went to get dressed. Remy stayed on the bed.
"How long have you been living like this? Over 300 years." He answered his own question.
"306. What's your point?" Connie asked from the bathroom.
"Aren't you tired of this? I tell you, I'm tired. I'm sick of this. I want the game to end, Con. You coming here must mean that it is. Please tell me it is." He almost begged. Although not prone to opening up, he allowed himself to in front of her. She stepped back into the room. She saw than pain in his eyes. She could see he was tired and that he hurt. She realised the true differences between them.
They had seen and played their part in years of wars, mortal and immortal. The years of hardship and watching mortal die had been hard on them both, taught them both harsh lessons that had to be learnt. Connie had seen these times as something to make her stronger to make her a better warrior. She was more focused because she didn't care about the mortals that died at her side during the battles. Her feelings she focused on the job and got the job done didn't distract her.
Remy on the other hand had burned each and every face of his fallen comrades into his soul. So they would not be forgotten. As she looked at him now she could see that his feelings of lose for those he never knew burdened him. She saw him begging her to kill him with those eyes.
"I will not kill you." She ground out. He smiled sadly he had guessed as much. She was fiercely loyal to him. She cared for him. Though years had passed she still looked at him as though he was the only one who could save her from herself.
"Your getting too attached you know." She looked straight into his eyes and slapped him hard. Tears of rage formed in her eyes. She wanted to scream at him make him stop pitting himself. She let the rage go, calm returned.
"You just don't get it, do you? After all these years nobody has ever made you understand have they?" He shook his head sadly.
"There's food in the kitchen." He turned and began to walk away.
"Remy." You are worth getting attached too, you know. Don't think you're self-worthless."
He turned back to acknowledge her comment then walked away. He had expected that. She had always seen the worth in his life. He understood her rage; she hated his self-loathing. He had done some unspeakable things in his past well before he got involved with Sinister. Things that made the morlock massacre look like child's play. He had played games with mortal's lives. He had been involved in numerous armies all over the world as the military in the past didn't check your records mercenaries were simply used, nothing of checking motives. He had been involved in the slaughtering of 100's of mortals. But that was a long time ago.
He had learnt the value of the mortal life. He couldn't put his finger on when that had changed. He simply understood now that mortals died. He was too naive. It had taken a long time for him to realise that he was ending an existence. His shell had cracked, without eve realising it he had covered himself made things impersonal in battle played wars as games. Since he wouldn't die it didn't matter.
Immortal were Immortal. His life was a game. One long quest to become the only one left. He didn't know why they wanted to be the only one. It seemed kind of pointless to spend hundreds of years as he had killing each other. He supposed that everything had to end and that was the chosen end of the game to be the only one.
He dragged his feet towards his room. It was time begin training again, although his work as an X-Men kept him in good shape he wasn't fit enough for immortal battle. He had lost touch with the ancient techniques that were required. Immortal battles were something of an art form. Decapitation. It could be done many ways but swords worked the best. They were manageable, light and very adaptive.
He approached his four poster bed. Felt down the closest leg for the hidden button. He pushed it and removed the large piece of wood that had become lose as a result. 'There she is' a 3 ft long sword. He lifted it from its hiding place. It felt alien in his hands now; it had once felt like an extension of his arm. A piece of him. He still had the scars were he tested the sharpness on his arm as he had painstakingly made his beautiful sword. It had mattered to him so much then. Now it was just a sign of the killing that had to be done.
"So it begins again." He caught a glimmer of his reflection in his full-length mirror. Trench coat, Black spandex and sword looked so natural. He removed his decks of cards lay them on his dresser, he had a new weapon to use. He let out a deep sigh.
"Time to get to work."
***
He clicked the intercom.
"Connie?" He asked.
"Yeah."
"Come to the danger room. Bring your sword. Meet you there."
"Sure." He could almost hear her smiling, he knew she would enjoy this she loved fighting. She loved beating him. He knew she would she was in immortal battle condition. He also knew that she had gone on a walk early in the night and brought back a couple of bags of clothes from where ever she had been storing them.
He walked towards the danger room trying to avoid everyone. He didn't know how the hell he would explain the sword. But he would have to try. He saw Logan walk towards him.
"So Gumbo where are you going with that?" Logan raised an eyebrow. Then reached for the sword. Remy pulled it away.
"That's a mighty fine sword. Never seen you use it before. Where did you get it?" Remy just laughed and tapped his nose. Then smiled and continued. He sighed in relief as he entered the danger room. He had met nobody else. In fact he was glad that the only person he had met was Logan because he knew that Logan wouldn't push for answers straight away he would wait a little longer.
He looked up as he heard a swooping noise. Connie was already there practicing her drills. Over, under, loops. She was fully focused on her drills though she still knew that Remy it was the door that had alerted her. She continued for a few more movements. She rolled her shoulder back to relax the muscles. Then she faced Remy full on and bowed. He approached the centre of the room, and bowed.
"Go easy on me it's been a long time."
***
Connie took an offensive stance. She always did. Even when she had been first taught by Remy she had always attacked maybe a little too much at times. He was sure that she had invented the "the best method of defence is offence" style of battle. It had nearly caused her downfall a few times in his memory, but he was sure that she was better now than she was then.
They had sparred like this many times before. The only rule was not to take the head. If the attack initiated would have taken the head, the custom was to stop at the point of contact but not to break the skin. That was the only rule. Other than that anything and everything went, and usually did.
It wasn't unusual for these sessions to go on for days at a time until one conceded or it just wasn't practical to continue. Remy had a feeling this little session couldn't last more than 2 hours he was so out of shape and practice. Of course it wouldn't be practical to continue too long because Cyclops would be holding a training session sometime soon.
Remy stood. Looking at Connie's sword waiting. She would make the first move. She was impatient. More so than even Remy himself. He caught a quick flick. Deliberate she wanted to make sure that this didn't end too quickly.
They traded blows. At first Connie was easy on him. Offensive but easy. After he signalled he was ready for more bloody combat by trying to take her legs with a spinning kick. The sparring became more intense.
She drew first blood. A slash to Remy's chest from the bottom of his rib cage on his left to his collar bones on his right. Remy barely recognised it. In truth he couldn't recognise it as he had to spend every second trying to evade Connie's attacks and trying to put in some offence of his own. He was holding his own in his mind, though he was certain that Connie was still holding out on him.
They continued at a forceful speed unaware of the figures gathering in the control room. Slash, cut, and thrust. Remy attacked but made no contact.
"You are getting slow old man?" Connie smirked as she easily fended off his attacks. She smirked again. But it was cut short as Remy caught her left arm drawing a stream of blood.
Still they fought on. Sweat poured out of every pore. Blood streamed from their cuts. Remy tried to continue, but his body was failing him. He tried to attack at the same pace but his body slowed, not willing to continue. Connie continued at her fast pace. She felt him slow. She stood back and took stance. Remy bowed. She had won. Won convincingly just as he thought she would. Remy took his stance, for a few moments. Then to signify Connie's win. Bowed and kneeled on the floor and offered his sword. She picked it up, and placed it down on the ground in front of him. Then she kneeled and put her sword down, closing her eyes she rested.
In the control room. Logan, Storm and Jean sat a watched entrance by the two figures. They were stunned. Such violence came to an abrupt end so quietly.
"That was new. I didn't think Gambit could fight like that. In fact I didn't think anyone could fight that fast." Jean commented frowning.
"There's a lot about Gumbo we don't know. I get the feeling' this is just the tip of the ice burg darlin''." Logan said. He then got up and left.
Down in the danger room, Connie and Remy sat in meditation. Jean could feel the calm radiate from the two. Though she could not delve into their minds. Their shields were too strong for her to penetrate. She wondered if she should go and offer medical assistance, but something told her not too. She looked at Storm who was still watching to two.
"Have you ever met this Connie Wilson?" Storm seemed to be entranced. She shook her head.
"No. I have not."