I believe.if my calculations are correct (nerdy laugh) . . . I have like
EIGHT FANS! You have NO IDEA how fabulous this is. I literally could start
flying, if you really wanted me too . . .
I'm serious!
~The song featured in the previous episode, was Jean Batailleur by Zachary Richard . . . Special thanks to that fabulous xxfleurdelysxx (you will hear me thanking her A LOT) for providing me with it. If you want to hear a clip I can link you to a site from my email. Keep in mind, Remy would be singing it without the guitar accompaniment . . . drr. Zachary Richard is * gasp * a REAL Cajun, teeheehee, which makes the song even more bon! Also if you want an English translation just gimme a ring . . . well, a ding really. WHATEVER, but thanks to Fleur for supplying the lyrics, also!
------------------------------------
Torn
Chapter 3.
Escape
------------------------------------
"I don' usually get such pretty visitors." Mary could feel herself blush, and was thankful for the poor lighting. Remy's gaze made her feel naked. He was gorgeous, with shaggy brown hair and strong chiseled features, and his rippling Cajun accent only made her swoon more. He was very different from her husband. "But what you doin' down he'h chere?" He noted the badge on her chest, shining proudly off her heart, "Ah doubt someone wit a badge like dat should be down here minglin' wit de lowlifes." She frowned and puffed out her chest, annoyed by his tone.
"Ah'm on duty, uh, sp'osed t'check on ya'll." Remy considered this for a moment, and turned back to the bed, he landed on the hard mattress with a thud.
"Listen' Ma-"
"Officer Drake." She had made a mistake in giving her name to him earlier, Rule number one, do NOT give your name out to criminals.
"Pardonné moi me madam, Officer Drake, Remy din' do nuthin' wrong. Its de others y'wanna check out. I don' belong here anyway." The last part he mumbled softly, under his breath, but she still caught it.
"Ah'm sorry, ah wasn't accusin' you a' nothin', ah just."
"Lemme guess, y'from a small town, an' you wanted t'see what a big time felon looked like? Non? Well I hate t'disappoint ye'h chere, but ah'm not yoah man. If ye'h don' have any questions, s'il vous plait, ah'll ask y't'let me sleep." Mary frowned, and looked down at her hands, embarrassed. He could sense her tension, feel her pain, but right then-Remy wasn't interested. All he wanted to do was sleep, which was the least he deserved. She looked at him once more before walking back down the hall. He listened to her footsteps until the sound completely disappeared.
------------------------------------
"Lorna please, we've had this discussion before." Mary stopped when she heard hushed voices-she was very naughty when it came to eaves dropping-and crept slowly to the crack in the door. Alex was in there; she could make out his voice, and another woman's? The woman from before?
"There's just nothing I can do, it's the law we're messing with here. He committed the crime, he has to pay the consequences."
"I know, Alex, I know, it's just not fair! Dammit he didn't even get a trial. It's ridiculous." Alex had his back to her, but Mary could make out his strong arms enveloping the woman. She was crying, "I know he didn't do it."
"Baby, it's the way it has to be. I swear you get too attached to these things."
"Dammit Alex!" She pushed him back roughly, and Mary gasped when she saw Lorna come into view. Her hair, it was . . . green!? "He's not a thing! He's a person, Remy isn't like them, he isn't one of those monsters. If you actually took the time to listen t-"
"He's on death row Lorna!"
"But he didn't do it!"
"Lorna-"
"I swear Alex Summers, you are turning into your brother more and more every day." Mary narrowly missed the woman as she stormed out of the office, her hair was back to brown, maybe she had just imagined it? Sighing, she pushed open the door. "Summers, huh? Ya'h know Scott Summers?" Alex looked up from his post, and smiled as Mary walked towards him.
"Sure I do, that's my brother. Small world, eh?"
"Small town."
"How do you know Scott?" She sighed and plopped into the seat next to him, running a hand over her face.
"College."
"Oh, wait, I knew I recognized you. I met you at the wedding, remember?" Alex asked anxiously, he was sweeter than Scott was. Mary took a sip of his coffee and nodded her head, letting the hot fluid warm her insides, "I was only a few classes below him, yeah I remember you! You two dated for a little while didn't you?"
"Yeah, but then ah met Bobby." She proudly flashed her wedding ring, a smile coming to her face as she remembered that day.
"That's great."
"Yes, yes, it is," Mary mused whimsically, until suddenly her eyes flashed open, "Ah wanted t'ask yoah about one o' ya'h prisoners, Remy? Cell 18."
"Alex?" Alex's head flashed back open, and he threw her an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I'm just tired, what was it that you wanted?" She was about to ask him again, but thought better of it.
"Uh, where are the extra blankets?"
"There's a closet next to the drowsy room."
"Thanks, sugah'"
-----------------------------------
'She was pretty'
"Very."
'To bad you were such an ass to her.'
"Shut up!"
"No! How about you shut up LeBeau!" Remy spat at the ground, ignoring the inmate next door. He frowned at the ground; he was pathetic, having a conversation with his subconscious. What was this place doing to him!?
------------------------------------
"Where you goin' with that blanket, girl?" Mary jumped, slightly skittish in the presence of the mysterious officer Logan. He glared at her, his blue eyes staring accusingly at the boiled wool (lol cait, remember that?!) blanket she had clutched to her chest. "Ye'h gonna answer my question?"
"Its ma'h business"
"No girl . . . yer on my turf now, and that means its definitely my business."
She stuck out her bottom lip, and stared him down defiantly, but Logan wasn't a man to be trifled with. "Ah was cold, that's all."
"Alright." He grumbled, staring at her accusingly. May hurried past him and walked down the crème colored hallway. Down the steps, and into prisoner lockup A, "Immediate Termination" or one that would take place that week. She stumbled down the hall, past all of the inmates, who yelled catcalls as she went, and stopped in front of cell 18.
"Here," She mumbled, tossing Remy the blue blanket, "Ah noticed ya'h were shiverin'" Remy looked at her, his eyes widening in appreciation as his lips turned up into a smirk, "Merci, I don' really like de cold."
"Yoah welcome." Mary sighed and turned around, she was 10 feet away when he called her name.
"Officer Drake!"
"Yeah?" He grinned, and walked up to the bars that separated them.
"Dat accent? Ya'h from de south?"
"Mississippi, you?"
"Cajun. New Orleans, born an' raised."
She laughed, "Well than that explains yoah problem with tha' cold."
"Ye'h got a really pretty smile."
Mary blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of crimson, and that only made her laugh more.
"Awww, chere, its happened. Once ah make a girl laugh, she's hooked for life."
"Is that so?"
"I wouldn't lie. Steal, cheat a little, but never lie." Remy smiled, titling his chin and shaking the hair out of his face. Girls liked it when you looked into their eyes.
"Well maybe ah'll prove you wrong, ah bet ah can resist yoah Cajun charms."
"Hah! Officer Drake I'd like t'see dat."
She bit her lower lip, the light shining on her face. "Call me Mary."
------------------------------------
"Daddy! Stop!!" Nathalie giggled; she was doubled over in hysterical fits of laughter, and trying to escape her father's tricky fingers. He had been tickling her mercilessly. The pair was snowed in, and had run out of board games a 5yr old could play. Bobby laughed, and let her up for air, "What do you wanna do now!?"
"Sleep."
"Daaaddyyy!!"
"Alright, alright, howabout one piggie back ride and then we watch a few movies."
"Two horsie back rides, and one movie."
She was stubborn, a trait she got from her mother no doubt, and Bobby agreed. With one mighty toss he lifted her onto his bag, and got down on all fours. "Ready?"
"Yeah!"
"Then here we go!! Naaay!"
---------------------------------
It was odd, intriguing, yet a very strange situation. Attempting to speak to someone through the steel bars of a jail cell was awkward, especially if you just met the guy. But Remy, Remy was different, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Hell he could charm the pants off of your nana at a funeral, and despite the fact that he was locked up in some Pennsylvania Justice Department cage, there was still life inside of him. But he longed for the outside; you could see it in his eyes-their shade still indistinguishable in the poor lighting-and the way they sparkled when he spoke of being free. She had been chatting with him for a good half and hour, maybe more, but as the old cliché goes . . . time flies when you're having fun. His name was Remy LeBeau; he was 32, of Cajun descent from New Orleans. Remy wouldn't divulge much else into his past, and Mary suspected it wasn't a pleasant one. As for herself, she didn't tell much about her personal life, and found herself hiding her left hand. It was silly, and childish, but for some reason she didn't want him to know she was married. Mary found herself staring, she was fascinated by the man who lay on a mattress across from her, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling and talking about his home. "I miss them." Them being his family, his brother and his father, no mention of a wife. There was a silence, and Remy drifted deep into his memories, while Mary twisted her wedding ring around and around her finger.
"What were ya'h singin' earlier?"
"Jean Batailleur, it's a song from home."
"French?"
"De man who wrote it was a Cajun, but yes, it was in French. You like?"
"Well-" Remy laughed, and sat up on the bed. "Don' worry chere, ah kno' I can't sing."
Mary started giggling with him, had she been that obvious? "Well it wasn't that bad! Just a lit-"
"Mary!? Y'down there?" Their heads shot up simultaneously, and Mary could feel a pressure in her stomach. She felt like she was doing something wrong, "Mary?!" Luke yelled again, the knot in her stomach twisted violently as she stepped away from cell 18.
"Ah'm sorry, but ah oughta'h go. It was nice talkin' t'ya'h, ah, ah . . ." But what could she really say? She knew nothing of his crimes, all she knew was that he was in the immediate termination bank, and that he had done something bad enough to land him on death row. What do you say to someone who's going through something like that? How do you say goodbye, when you know you will most likely never see them again?
"Ah hope that ya'h can find peace, after it, it-goodbye Remy." Mary turned away quickly, but her mistake was turning to take one last look at the man . . . that was when Victor had the opportunity to throw his thick muscular arm around her neck . . . (I want ya'll to know, that I could have ended it there . . . but I didn't! You see how nice I am!?)
------------------------------------
"Marie!" His bicep was crushing her windpipe, and Mary soon found herself gasping for air, to petrified to even attempt an escape. Remy was fuming from his cell, banging on the bars and yelling for anyone to come. He tried desperately to kick the cell door down, but that was pretty much impossible.
"Nooon!!!!"
"Y'wanted t'talk dirty in the car girl, what's the matter now? Cat got your tongue?" Victor whispered nonsense into her ear, and licked the tops of her lobes.
"Get-unngh-oofah-meee . . ." There was no more oxygen left in her lungs, and Mary felt herself begin to fall. Her eyes were going black, when she saw it. Remy's hands, they were on fire!
------------------------------------
"BANG!" the explosion woke her up, that and the removal of Creed's meaty arm. Mary was flung to the floor, and she stared confused at the scene above her. Remy had Victor by the scruff of his prison uniform, his hands looked fine. His eyes were ablaze and he was threatening his fellow inmate with a threatening glare. Mary shifted her gaze to Remy's cell, there was a hole in the center of them, from which she assumed Remy had escaped. Her eyes began to darken once again, but she snapped out of the trance when she heard a loud yell from up the steps.
"Mary!!"
Remy dropped Victor, who landed in an angry heap at the bottom of the cell and turned back to Mary, and for the first time she saw his eyes. They were a dangerous shade of red, with fiery amber embers that sizzled like a roaring flame. The crimson sat atop of an entirely black cornea. Mary gasped, falling back against his broken cell bars. He simply stared back at her, his body hunching over, and his legs wobbling, but his eyes were glued to hers, pleading with her. Mary bit her lower lip, as she always did when she was thinking, and bent down her head.
"Ah'm fine! There was an explosion . . . but ah don't think anyone escaped." He smiled at her, and kissed his two fingers before running down the hall, escaping into the night. Luke, Alex, Lorna and Logan came rushing down, all of them looking concerned and confused. Logan snarled at Creed, who sunk back against the wall, a smile set on his thin pale lips. Mary shot him a warning glare, and allowed Alex to help her up, while Lorna and Luke walked over to the exploded cell.
"I think one of your prisoner's escaped."
"Damn!" Officer Logan snarled, examining the remains. Lorna's eyes went wide, and turning from the wreckage, she tried to stifle down a smile.
"You know anything Mary?" Alex asked, and suddenly all eyes were on her.
"Ah-Ah-no, ah don't know anything. Ah didn't see a thing."
~well now he's OUT!!! DON'T FORGET TO WATCH CAJUN SPICE! -Foo
~The song featured in the previous episode, was Jean Batailleur by Zachary Richard . . . Special thanks to that fabulous xxfleurdelysxx (you will hear me thanking her A LOT) for providing me with it. If you want to hear a clip I can link you to a site from my email. Keep in mind, Remy would be singing it without the guitar accompaniment . . . drr. Zachary Richard is * gasp * a REAL Cajun, teeheehee, which makes the song even more bon! Also if you want an English translation just gimme a ring . . . well, a ding really. WHATEVER, but thanks to Fleur for supplying the lyrics, also!
------------------------------------
Torn
Chapter 3.
Escape
------------------------------------
"I don' usually get such pretty visitors." Mary could feel herself blush, and was thankful for the poor lighting. Remy's gaze made her feel naked. He was gorgeous, with shaggy brown hair and strong chiseled features, and his rippling Cajun accent only made her swoon more. He was very different from her husband. "But what you doin' down he'h chere?" He noted the badge on her chest, shining proudly off her heart, "Ah doubt someone wit a badge like dat should be down here minglin' wit de lowlifes." She frowned and puffed out her chest, annoyed by his tone.
"Ah'm on duty, uh, sp'osed t'check on ya'll." Remy considered this for a moment, and turned back to the bed, he landed on the hard mattress with a thud.
"Listen' Ma-"
"Officer Drake." She had made a mistake in giving her name to him earlier, Rule number one, do NOT give your name out to criminals.
"Pardonné moi me madam, Officer Drake, Remy din' do nuthin' wrong. Its de others y'wanna check out. I don' belong here anyway." The last part he mumbled softly, under his breath, but she still caught it.
"Ah'm sorry, ah wasn't accusin' you a' nothin', ah just."
"Lemme guess, y'from a small town, an' you wanted t'see what a big time felon looked like? Non? Well I hate t'disappoint ye'h chere, but ah'm not yoah man. If ye'h don' have any questions, s'il vous plait, ah'll ask y't'let me sleep." Mary frowned, and looked down at her hands, embarrassed. He could sense her tension, feel her pain, but right then-Remy wasn't interested. All he wanted to do was sleep, which was the least he deserved. She looked at him once more before walking back down the hall. He listened to her footsteps until the sound completely disappeared.
------------------------------------
"Lorna please, we've had this discussion before." Mary stopped when she heard hushed voices-she was very naughty when it came to eaves dropping-and crept slowly to the crack in the door. Alex was in there; she could make out his voice, and another woman's? The woman from before?
"There's just nothing I can do, it's the law we're messing with here. He committed the crime, he has to pay the consequences."
"I know, Alex, I know, it's just not fair! Dammit he didn't even get a trial. It's ridiculous." Alex had his back to her, but Mary could make out his strong arms enveloping the woman. She was crying, "I know he didn't do it."
"Baby, it's the way it has to be. I swear you get too attached to these things."
"Dammit Alex!" She pushed him back roughly, and Mary gasped when she saw Lorna come into view. Her hair, it was . . . green!? "He's not a thing! He's a person, Remy isn't like them, he isn't one of those monsters. If you actually took the time to listen t-"
"He's on death row Lorna!"
"But he didn't do it!"
"Lorna-"
"I swear Alex Summers, you are turning into your brother more and more every day." Mary narrowly missed the woman as she stormed out of the office, her hair was back to brown, maybe she had just imagined it? Sighing, she pushed open the door. "Summers, huh? Ya'h know Scott Summers?" Alex looked up from his post, and smiled as Mary walked towards him.
"Sure I do, that's my brother. Small world, eh?"
"Small town."
"How do you know Scott?" She sighed and plopped into the seat next to him, running a hand over her face.
"College."
"Oh, wait, I knew I recognized you. I met you at the wedding, remember?" Alex asked anxiously, he was sweeter than Scott was. Mary took a sip of his coffee and nodded her head, letting the hot fluid warm her insides, "I was only a few classes below him, yeah I remember you! You two dated for a little while didn't you?"
"Yeah, but then ah met Bobby." She proudly flashed her wedding ring, a smile coming to her face as she remembered that day.
"That's great."
"Yes, yes, it is," Mary mused whimsically, until suddenly her eyes flashed open, "Ah wanted t'ask yoah about one o' ya'h prisoners, Remy? Cell 18."
"Alex?" Alex's head flashed back open, and he threw her an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, I'm just tired, what was it that you wanted?" She was about to ask him again, but thought better of it.
"Uh, where are the extra blankets?"
"There's a closet next to the drowsy room."
"Thanks, sugah'"
-----------------------------------
'She was pretty'
"Very."
'To bad you were such an ass to her.'
"Shut up!"
"No! How about you shut up LeBeau!" Remy spat at the ground, ignoring the inmate next door. He frowned at the ground; he was pathetic, having a conversation with his subconscious. What was this place doing to him!?
------------------------------------
"Where you goin' with that blanket, girl?" Mary jumped, slightly skittish in the presence of the mysterious officer Logan. He glared at her, his blue eyes staring accusingly at the boiled wool (lol cait, remember that?!) blanket she had clutched to her chest. "Ye'h gonna answer my question?"
"Its ma'h business"
"No girl . . . yer on my turf now, and that means its definitely my business."
She stuck out her bottom lip, and stared him down defiantly, but Logan wasn't a man to be trifled with. "Ah was cold, that's all."
"Alright." He grumbled, staring at her accusingly. May hurried past him and walked down the crème colored hallway. Down the steps, and into prisoner lockup A, "Immediate Termination" or one that would take place that week. She stumbled down the hall, past all of the inmates, who yelled catcalls as she went, and stopped in front of cell 18.
"Here," She mumbled, tossing Remy the blue blanket, "Ah noticed ya'h were shiverin'" Remy looked at her, his eyes widening in appreciation as his lips turned up into a smirk, "Merci, I don' really like de cold."
"Yoah welcome." Mary sighed and turned around, she was 10 feet away when he called her name.
"Officer Drake!"
"Yeah?" He grinned, and walked up to the bars that separated them.
"Dat accent? Ya'h from de south?"
"Mississippi, you?"
"Cajun. New Orleans, born an' raised."
She laughed, "Well than that explains yoah problem with tha' cold."
"Ye'h got a really pretty smile."
Mary blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of crimson, and that only made her laugh more.
"Awww, chere, its happened. Once ah make a girl laugh, she's hooked for life."
"Is that so?"
"I wouldn't lie. Steal, cheat a little, but never lie." Remy smiled, titling his chin and shaking the hair out of his face. Girls liked it when you looked into their eyes.
"Well maybe ah'll prove you wrong, ah bet ah can resist yoah Cajun charms."
"Hah! Officer Drake I'd like t'see dat."
She bit her lower lip, the light shining on her face. "Call me Mary."
------------------------------------
"Daddy! Stop!!" Nathalie giggled; she was doubled over in hysterical fits of laughter, and trying to escape her father's tricky fingers. He had been tickling her mercilessly. The pair was snowed in, and had run out of board games a 5yr old could play. Bobby laughed, and let her up for air, "What do you wanna do now!?"
"Sleep."
"Daaaddyyy!!"
"Alright, alright, howabout one piggie back ride and then we watch a few movies."
"Two horsie back rides, and one movie."
She was stubborn, a trait she got from her mother no doubt, and Bobby agreed. With one mighty toss he lifted her onto his bag, and got down on all fours. "Ready?"
"Yeah!"
"Then here we go!! Naaay!"
---------------------------------
It was odd, intriguing, yet a very strange situation. Attempting to speak to someone through the steel bars of a jail cell was awkward, especially if you just met the guy. But Remy, Remy was different, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Hell he could charm the pants off of your nana at a funeral, and despite the fact that he was locked up in some Pennsylvania Justice Department cage, there was still life inside of him. But he longed for the outside; you could see it in his eyes-their shade still indistinguishable in the poor lighting-and the way they sparkled when he spoke of being free. She had been chatting with him for a good half and hour, maybe more, but as the old cliché goes . . . time flies when you're having fun. His name was Remy LeBeau; he was 32, of Cajun descent from New Orleans. Remy wouldn't divulge much else into his past, and Mary suspected it wasn't a pleasant one. As for herself, she didn't tell much about her personal life, and found herself hiding her left hand. It was silly, and childish, but for some reason she didn't want him to know she was married. Mary found herself staring, she was fascinated by the man who lay on a mattress across from her, blowing smoke rings at the ceiling and talking about his home. "I miss them." Them being his family, his brother and his father, no mention of a wife. There was a silence, and Remy drifted deep into his memories, while Mary twisted her wedding ring around and around her finger.
"What were ya'h singin' earlier?"
"Jean Batailleur, it's a song from home."
"French?"
"De man who wrote it was a Cajun, but yes, it was in French. You like?"
"Well-" Remy laughed, and sat up on the bed. "Don' worry chere, ah kno' I can't sing."
Mary started giggling with him, had she been that obvious? "Well it wasn't that bad! Just a lit-"
"Mary!? Y'down there?" Their heads shot up simultaneously, and Mary could feel a pressure in her stomach. She felt like she was doing something wrong, "Mary?!" Luke yelled again, the knot in her stomach twisted violently as she stepped away from cell 18.
"Ah'm sorry, but ah oughta'h go. It was nice talkin' t'ya'h, ah, ah . . ." But what could she really say? She knew nothing of his crimes, all she knew was that he was in the immediate termination bank, and that he had done something bad enough to land him on death row. What do you say to someone who's going through something like that? How do you say goodbye, when you know you will most likely never see them again?
"Ah hope that ya'h can find peace, after it, it-goodbye Remy." Mary turned away quickly, but her mistake was turning to take one last look at the man . . . that was when Victor had the opportunity to throw his thick muscular arm around her neck . . . (I want ya'll to know, that I could have ended it there . . . but I didn't! You see how nice I am!?)
------------------------------------
"Marie!" His bicep was crushing her windpipe, and Mary soon found herself gasping for air, to petrified to even attempt an escape. Remy was fuming from his cell, banging on the bars and yelling for anyone to come. He tried desperately to kick the cell door down, but that was pretty much impossible.
"Nooon!!!!"
"Y'wanted t'talk dirty in the car girl, what's the matter now? Cat got your tongue?" Victor whispered nonsense into her ear, and licked the tops of her lobes.
"Get-unngh-oofah-meee . . ." There was no more oxygen left in her lungs, and Mary felt herself begin to fall. Her eyes were going black, when she saw it. Remy's hands, they were on fire!
------------------------------------
"BANG!" the explosion woke her up, that and the removal of Creed's meaty arm. Mary was flung to the floor, and she stared confused at the scene above her. Remy had Victor by the scruff of his prison uniform, his hands looked fine. His eyes were ablaze and he was threatening his fellow inmate with a threatening glare. Mary shifted her gaze to Remy's cell, there was a hole in the center of them, from which she assumed Remy had escaped. Her eyes began to darken once again, but she snapped out of the trance when she heard a loud yell from up the steps.
"Mary!!"
Remy dropped Victor, who landed in an angry heap at the bottom of the cell and turned back to Mary, and for the first time she saw his eyes. They were a dangerous shade of red, with fiery amber embers that sizzled like a roaring flame. The crimson sat atop of an entirely black cornea. Mary gasped, falling back against his broken cell bars. He simply stared back at her, his body hunching over, and his legs wobbling, but his eyes were glued to hers, pleading with her. Mary bit her lower lip, as she always did when she was thinking, and bent down her head.
"Ah'm fine! There was an explosion . . . but ah don't think anyone escaped." He smiled at her, and kissed his two fingers before running down the hall, escaping into the night. Luke, Alex, Lorna and Logan came rushing down, all of them looking concerned and confused. Logan snarled at Creed, who sunk back against the wall, a smile set on his thin pale lips. Mary shot him a warning glare, and allowed Alex to help her up, while Lorna and Luke walked over to the exploded cell.
"I think one of your prisoner's escaped."
"Damn!" Officer Logan snarled, examining the remains. Lorna's eyes went wide, and turning from the wreckage, she tried to stifle down a smile.
"You know anything Mary?" Alex asked, and suddenly all eyes were on her.
"Ah-Ah-no, ah don't know anything. Ah didn't see a thing."
~well now he's OUT!!! DON'T FORGET TO WATCH CAJUN SPICE! -Foo