Author's note: Really, this has to be the last chapter. I want to warn everyone of something before you read it, though. This chapter deviates greatly from the feel of the first two. It's not artistic; it's not pretty; it's not even that romantic. It's meant to be light, stupid, and funny. Now that I think about, please don't read this directly after the first two chapters. It'll completely ruin their effect. Come back later, when you're in a goofy mood. But please do come back! And review!
Quick disclaimer/warning: Besides not fitting with the other chapters style-wise, this chapter is also a bit naughtier. More bad words and mentions of underage drinking. If either of these things offend you, please turn back now.
"Love's gift cannot be given,/ It waits to be accepted." Rabindranath Tagore
Hand to God, there is no peace in this place! All I ever wanted in life was to do well in school, get into a good college, and get away from my family. The Lord, it seems, has other designs for me. I discovered my mutation a few months ago (some freak-ass kind of empathy; I always knew I was too sensative), and my family shipped me off to Mutant Manor here. Final step of The Master Plan complete. However, every single nut job in this place is bound and goddamned determined to foil the rest of The Master Plan. There I was being a good student and trying to write my essay more than forty eight hours before it was due. I even did a little background research when the paper was only supposed to be analytical. "Prostitutes and Honor in Latin American Literature". It'll be published in a literary journal one day, but at the rate I'm going it won't be graded for my English class next week.
Shall I start at the beginning? After a highly misunderstood incident involving The Kama Sutra, Professor Xavier decided that I required adult guidance while exploring the Institute's library. I mean really, who keeps books like that in school to begin with, like the kids wouldn't find it? So, I was in the library with Dr. McCoy, looking up a few things for my super-awesome paper. I finished my butt-whooping research and tried to go start writing, but the Lord intervened yet again. I walked smack into an R^2 argument. "Blah blah blah, swamp rat." "Yadda yadda yadda, chère." "Fuck you, Cajun." "If you insist, ma petite." You know, the regular bullshit, or so I'm told. I tried to make an escape, but to no avail. Rogue used me as her escape, and I got the distinct privilege of listening to her bitch and moan for fucking ever!
After five thousand years and a trip to the friggin' mall, I managed to lose her in library. I thought I was free. I rushed to my lovely, lovely laptop to start working. Just as I was getting into a groove, the "stupid swamp rat" had to come ask me a bunch of pointless questions, trying to ooze charm, but it was really just desperate curiosity. He walked in the door without even knocking! So what if the door was open? It's the principle, right? "Ah, bonjour 'tite Laure! I hear you went out with ma chère dis aftanoon. She din' happen to say anyt'ing 'bout lil, ole me, did she?"
I sigh and abandon all hope of getting any work done today; I'd rather read my new Lupin III manga anyways. Maybe I'll skip college and be a cartoonist. "Yes, you were all she talked about." His face brightens until I continue, "the whole damn time, 'swamp rat this', 'rat bastard that', 'thieving little rat', that sort of thing. I'd be worried about her. She's got a rat fixation." I feel a huge swell of satisfaction, watching the confident, charming grin slide off of his face. I don't really have beef with the kid, but he's been damned annoying today.
"Dat right? De words 'cute', or 'sexy', or 'I secretly love him' nevah came up?" I sigh and roll my eyes. "Y'know, 'tite Laure, we both kinda new 'round 'ere, and could use an ally or two, hein? So, I'm t'inking, you do me a favor—jus' put in a good word for me wit' Rogue—an' I do you a favor. Remy can be a very useful friend."
I regard him warily. "Okay, mon ami, here's how it's gonna work out. I get you a date with Rogue, and a bottle of gin mysteriously appears under my bed. Also! The two of you shut the hell up and let me get my homework done. Now go away. I have some very serious reading to do." I snatch my manga from my nightstand and start reading. Remy makes a dramatic bow as he backs out of my room. I settle into my pillows and begin to enjoy the adventures of everyone's favorite gentleman thief (read: not the boy in my doorway). But once again our Heavenly Father decides to intervene. Just as Remy backs out into the hallway, Rogue runs smack into him! And at that very moment, my mutation starts up in overdrive. Lord, I'm sorry, but I'm converting. I don't know what I'm converting to, but you are not my savior.
"Watch where yer goin', Remy!" Hark, what's that? A given name spoken in this house? Maybe this'll be worth watching after all.
Remy starts laying it on thick. Even before he opens his mouth, you can tell he's about to charm the pants off you (sometimes literally), or at least try to. It's almost like a glow around him, like heat shimmers, only red. He turns slowly to her and offers an even deeper bow. He's a cheeky little bastard; while Rogue is rolling her eyes, he turns his head a little and winks at me. His aura clearly says, "alright, 'tite Laure, it's your time to shine." I cross my arms over my chest and lean back into the pillows. I'm waiting for the right moment; I know it's coming.
Scathing remark.
"So, you getting' bored with me and movin' on to helpless lil girls?" I resent that remark, but the green shimmer around her indicates all the venom of it is directed at him.
Charming, but condescending retort.
"Chèrie, you know you the only helpless lil girl dis boy want." Gag me with a pitch fork. The "lay it on thick" vibes are rolling off him. The room will positively stink of "Cajun charm" when he finally leaves.
Hostile response, with vaguely flirty undertones.
"Is that so?" She's almost not angry anymore. I wish Lysol made a spray to get rid of emotional impressions.
Proposition.
"Mais oui, chèrie. Now how 'bout we go out tonight? You know you wanna." I never realized cocky-bastard-osity was an emotion I could sense. Must tell the Professor. But not until later, my moment is coming up, and it's about damned time. I actually am getting frustrated, so it won't be much of an act. Here it is.
Bitchy turn down.
She starts out slow and low, pitch and speed rising with every hateful word. I'll never be able to get the pissed-off stains out of the carpet. "If you think for one second Ah'm 'bout ta go out with a filthy—"
Intervention by frustrated peer. That's my cue!
"For the love of God!" I shriek, indignantly. I roll over to my nightstand and rip the drawer open, snatching out two twenties. "Just go out with the stupid swamp rat, you harpy! Here," I throw the money out into the hall, "on the freaking house! Get a pizza, get some beers, get it on, and get it over with already!! Now get out of my room." Aaah. Nothing like good old-fashioned shock to clear the air. Rogue's looking at me like I've smacked her across the face, and Remy doesn't look much better. I send him a pulse of "you happy now?!", and he gets the picture. I shove them both completely out of the doorway, and slam the door. I can still feel Rogue's shock, but it's slowly ebbing. I press my ear to the door, and I can get a pretty good sense of what's going on.
Rogue couldn't believe it. Remy couldn't believe it. No one could believe it. It was unbelievable, that's why. Remy's 'tite Laure, as she had come to be called by many people at the Institute, had just thrown possibly the biggest fit known to Mutant Manor. It was several moments after the door slammed shut that Rogue shook herself free of the shock. Then she glared at Remy, as if he was somehow to blame for the incident. He tried his best to look innocent and shrugged. Rogue's glare intensified. She bent over than snatched the money off the floor. Then she turned on her heel and started marching down the hall.
Remy watched her turn the corner and felt extreme disappointment. He began to turn in the other direction, but before he could Rogue's head popped back around the corner. She made a very frustrated sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a grunt. "Well, swamp rat, ain't you comin'?" Remy's face lit up as he realized what she meant, and Rogue favored him with a rare half-smile. He trained his expression into a cocky smirk and began to saunter down the hall toward his girl, but not before casting a wave of gratitude at the closed door next to him.
By the time I finished Lupin III, it was very late, and I had missed dinner. I guess everyone had wanted to stay clear of me once word of my tantrum had gotten around. I meandered down to the kitchen to scavenge. I found some boiled peanuts, which I had made a few days ago. Hardly anyone had eaten them, except Rogue, Remy, and Sam. I warmed up my peanuts in a bowl and grabbed a soda. I decided to eat in my room and turned to go back through the silent mansion. When I arrived in my room, I found the window open and a sheet of paper on my nightstand. The note read:
'Tite Laure,
I believe you'll find the payment we agreed upon under your bed, plus a bonus. For your troubles. I may require your services again in the future.
L
P.S.—That's for LeBeau, you silly girl, not Lupin!
I laughed out loud as a bent down to look under my bed. Now it was my turn to be shocked. I pulled out a large bottle of Bombay Sapphire, the neck of which was wrapped in a sapphire necklace. I don't think I even want to know how that date went.