I'm back!

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Thief of Spirits by Eternity's Voice

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Chapter 4: Cajun Road Kill

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The couple sat and stared at the empty road, leaning against the old tree trunk on the wayside. Rogue was the first to break the silence. She turned her head and said, "Remy, do me a favor."

The Cajun looked into her eyes. "What, Chere?"

"When we get back on that piece of trash," she jerked her thumb at Remy's bike, "Let me take mah own sweet time gettin' on. You take off like the devil again an' I'll fall off on purpose."

"Gambit's bike ain't trash!" His voice gained that hard edge and she jumped.

She looked at LeBeau in dismay. 'Not again!'

Rogue knew how to read which Creole she was dealing with now. The real one used "I." When he called himself Remy, he was the joking player. Gambit was the danger signal. Her poor duct taped wrists were proof of that.

Rogue grew angry and refused to back down in front of the act. "Don't you dare make me go through that again, Remy LeBeau!" The man blinked and the mask fell off with a thud.

"Chere, you could pass for Grandmama back from de dead." There was something childish and reminiscent about that phrase.

She glared. "And that means what? I'm sick of you and your masks. I thought I had made that clear."

"Grandmama wouldn' put up wit' dem either. Refused to let me hide."

"Good for her." Rogue fingered the strange chain around her neck that had belonged to that woman. She doubted it was silver -too strong- but it didn't feel like steel or iron.

"Yes, good fo' her. An' ma Petite, I ride my bike how I like."

Rogue stood up and walked to the motorcycle. She straddled it and quipped, "Then I'll just have ta drive."

"You?"

Her eyebrow twitched. "If you had kidnapped me in mah jeans instead of in leather pants, I could show you mah license." It was a lie. She kept her wallet in her jacket pocket. Her coat was either still at the house of the party where she'd put Matt in a coma or in a police investigation lab. Or one of the jocks had burned it out of spite. Rogue hoped it was choice number one or three.

"License...so you are over 16 den."

Her jaw dropped into a shape that brought shocked fury to mind. "You married me and didn' know how old I was? I could have been only fourteen!"

Two flames glowed from the shade under the tree. They weren't menacing like normal, but inviting, if that were possible. "De laws say you sixteen, Chere. A child. What do you think of dat?"

He laughed at her death scowl. "I thought so. People age many ways, in many t'ings. In time, body, mind, heart, an' soul. You too old in dose last three, ma Petite. Don' be. Wimmen can afford to be filles. Dey should be filles."

Rogue looked at the twin mournful fires. "An' what about men. What about LeBeau men, can they be boys?"

The infernal light disappeared as Remy laughed. "Don't know what a boy is, belle. Seen dem in de street and known dem, but never been one. My Remy is de closest I've gotten."

The Cajun took his time getting to his feet. He sauntered over to the rode and stood on the side of his motorcycle. "Chere, get off my bike. Otherwise, you're not goin' to like it when I lift you off it.

"Try it, Remy, an'..." Rogue was suddenly an undignified lump in Remy's arms. After a shocked moment, she struggled her way out of his grip and fell to the ground. LeBeau laughed as she got up. Then there was a crunching sound and he was sprawled over the pavement. He touched his damaged cheek bone gingerly and grunted, "Dat was some right hook, ma Petite."

She debated kicking him, but decided to stop while she was ahead. "Like I was sayin', try it an' you're road kill. Take these off, now." The girl pulled up the sleeves of her light violet sweater and held out her arms. Remy sighed and picked himself off the road. He removed a glove and peeled away the tape from one wrist. She yelped and pulled her hand away. Remy was prepared for her right hook that time. Unfortunately, it wasn't a right hook. Remy stumbled sharply and fought to stay on his feet. He looked at his tiny wife in disbelief. "You have a left hook too?"

She smiled grimly as she removed her cumbersome glove and carefully peeled away the duct tape on the other wrist. "Secret weapon. I get 'em once because I'm small, twice because they dodge a blow from tha wrong arm."

Rogue stared levelly at the bruised Creole. She had gotten her two cents in. A smirk lit her face. 'Two dents in, more like. The question is, what the Hell happens next?' She looked into his red eyes, waiting for the Gambit to return. It never did.

"Ma Petite?"

Rogue cocked her head. "Yes, mah beau?"

"Don' hesitate to use dat trick in N'Awlins. It will save you from a world o' hurt." Remy straddled the bike and waited for Rogue to settle in behind him. After five minutes, she relented and they rode off. Rogue, able to see her surroundings for once, thoughtfully watched the horizon. What was a world of hurt?

***

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Hitomi Lei:

Hmm...you say you live in Louisiana. Homework assignment. Give me a short review with some general stuff about what you know about New Orleans. You don't have to, but I would rather not butcher this.

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Squirrels4life:

Thank you. Yes, Stoic is not getting many reviews, but it's a Scott fic, what can I say. Back to ToS: I enjoy being as different as possible. I figure that the fanfiction world can always use new ideas and to make a ripple, someone has to upset the pond. I'm worried about backlash, but I'll deal with it when it happens.

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Heartsyhawk:

I understand why you feel uncomfortable about this fic. When I started writing this, Remy's cruelty just happened and I don't know how. I deleted the first chapter when I looked back at it, and started rewriting, but it didn't work. I've been writing for a while (off the web) and I've learned that when my subconscious directs my writing to just let it happen. I reopened the chapter as it was before and never looked back. Some stories are meant to be dark, and very few are fairy tales with charming princes.

It sort of shocked me to think about your age comment. Well, as you can see, I've brought the issue to light. About Rogue being 14, it never crossed my mind. I've thought about it since you brought it up and here is my logic. Rogue is younger than Jean and older than Kitty by a grade each. Kitty was a freshman in the first season and Jean was a junior, so Rogue was a sophomore. I don't know any 14 year old sophomores that didn't skip a grade. I thought of her as a 16 year-old sophomore in the first season. Her junior year was when the mutant secret came out and Apocalypse happened the summer before she was an 18 year old senior. So what do you say? Is married at sixteen less scandalous?

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Jo-jo:

I agree with you on EVERY point. I read fanfiction long before I had the courage to write it and it disappointed me when my reviews never showed up. Why do people do that?

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Cool-chick-rae:

Yeah, I am a little sketchy at describing the settings. Don't worry. So far, I've improved my "accents" and "who said what" categories...I hope. The point is I'll just work on this next.

And of course the story is a little scary, that's what I'm going for: shock value.

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Twilight Lament:

Thank you for supporting the scary Remy. If that's not what you meant, I don't mean to put words in your mouth...text...whatever. And I agree with you that most Romy fics deal more with the fact that they're "on opposite sides" than the relationship itself.

You are right that Rogue comes out too weak in the first chapters. I've been focusing on the fact that Gambit is in his early twenties or so and Rogue is an insecure teenager. Rogue has some growing up to do, and it undoubtedly will happen fast in Remy's crowd. Another reason why she buckles under LeBeau (another excuse, I know) is that I'm having trouble learning how to get two people to be defiant at the same time. I've got an idea or two on how to change that, as you probably noticed. Did I fix it? .

Thank You all for Reviewing. You have no idea how much pleasure I take in looking at your responses.