Ma Soleil
Chapter Five: Of Roofs and Mad Geniuses
Disclaimer: All Marvel Characters are the property of Marvel. This is a work of fanfiction, not an attempt to infringe on Stan Lee's personal arsenal of hotties. I can wish all I like, but Sabes is never gonna show up to collect me, and that's that. Oh, yeah, I'm making zero profit off this and if you want Beck, just ask. X-Cell is my own invention, and it includes the members of the former Generation X (e.g. Husk, M, Skin, Jubilee, Chamber, Leech, and Artie Maddocks, now known as Vision) and is headed by Jubilation Lee and X-Man.
As always, the lifeblood of the fanfiction author is reviews. I will respect constructive criticism, but flames are sincerely unappreciated. My e-mail address is seraph_taurus@thekeyz.com. Thanks for your time and God bless.
XXX
All was silent on the roof of Xavier's Institute. The moon was full, and its round yellow face seemed to mock the hard silhouette it cast into harsh relief. Gambit cupped the flame of his lighter carefully as his lit up a cigarette, inhaled, held the acrid smoke in his lungs for a few moments before exhaling it into the crisp night air, where it dissolved into intricate patterns of swirling gray.
"Remy?" unprepared for the voice of an old lover to break his concentration on nothing in particular, the man leapt up and turned in a single, graceful movement, swiping his bo-staff from his pocket and extending it to full length, with blades on either ends. "What're yah doin', sugah?"
"Not'in', chère. Broodin'. What de hell y' t'ink I be doin'? 'Sides, what de hell do YOU care?"
"A lot, Remy How's it goin' with Sarah?"
"It ain'. She dumped me."
"Everyone seems to think it ain't permanent. Lahke you'n Ah."
He chuckled quietly, the dry sound sending a shudder up Rogue's spine. "We were a disaster, weren't we?"
"Why'd she leave yah?" Rogue settled beside Gambit and crossed her legs.
"Why you wanna know?" he grinned cynically. "So y' can gloat?"
"No, Remy. Ah wanna be friends."
"Dunno if dat's possible aft' de emotional roller-coaster we put each oder on."
"AH think it's possible. Only if yah want."
"It'll be misinterpreted, chère. Dere's no point in our bein' friends. I got Stormy fo'e romantic advice an' cryin' on de shoulder."
"But Ah don't wanna be shut outta yoah lahfe, Remy, even if weah not romantically involved anymoah."
"Mebbe it ain' de bes' t'ing now. If we get close, chère, ev'yone'll say, 'Look at de LeBeau man-whore. Sarah break up wit' him 'cause he sleep 'round, now he go back t' Roguie.' Can' do dat, ange." He took another drag of his cigarette.
"Ya really love her, don't yah?"
"Oui,"
"Moah than yah loved me?"
"Rogue, it was different. Fo' Sarah an' I de relationship was mo'e physical den anyt'in', an' dere was a lotta instability. I wasn' sure whedder she loved me, an' she didn' know dat I loved her. Wit you, de on'y t'ing keepin' us T'GETHA was love. Dere was practically not'in' else. R'memba?"
A distant look came to Rogue's eyes before they snapped back into clarity. "Remy," she said, in a warning tone, "y'all didn't cheat on Sarah, did yah?"
His head whipped around, his demon's eyes stuck into hers like twin daggers. That one look was worth a sermon.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"Don' worry 'bout it." His voice was low, guttural.
"Ah know yah didn't cheat on me when we were togethah."
"Den why woul' y' t'ink I'd cheat on Sarah?" his voice dipped and cracked the moment he said her name, becoming soft, almost reverent.
"Ah dunno. Ah'm sorry, Remy. Ah shouldn't have. . ."
"Well, y' did. So, did y' really come up here t' gloat over m' ruined social life, or did y' want somethin' else?"
"Oh. Yeah. Scott says yoah in foah Security Watch with Bishop."
"Fantastique." He murmured. "I get t' bond wit' my adopted son from an altenate timeline. Mebbe t'morrow we can catch de baseball game." He groaned as his back popped. "I ain' as young as I used t' be."
"Weah all gettin' oldah, Remy."
"Oui. Jeanne be dyin' her hair red, an' Scott's gettin' 'distinguished.'"
"What's the average age of th' X-Men now, sugah?"
"Ain' interested. As long as I still got de moves an' de body, non?" he shot her one of his best smiles, the kind that still made her go weak in the knees.
"An' yah surely do still have them," she muttered to herself. Then, aloud, "C'mon, sugah, Ah don't suggest yah keep a six-and-a-half foot tall, 275-pound time-traveler with an arsenal in his jeans pocket waitin', huh?"
"Oui, I guess y' be right."
XXX
"Thanks for the drive home, Logan."
"'S jest what gentlemen do."
"Well, it was a lovely evening. I had no idea you could ballroom dance so well."
"SLOW-dance." He corrected gently.
"Slow dance. Whatever." She waved her hand in a random gesture of dismissal, and Logan caught it up in his.
"Ya know, Sinister does that, too."
"Does he," she shrugged. "I hadn't noticed. He IS the only paternal caretaker I've ever known, so it's not entirely perplexing that I inherited some of his more subtle idiosyncrasies."
"I guess not. Well, it's been nice, darlin', thanks fer the company."
"You're welcome, and good night."
"Night." He turned to start up his scoot.
"Just a moment, if you please," she snapped her fingers a couple times, as though in afterthought. "Do you know what times Victor and Miss St. Croix are likely to be at the mansion? I would very much like to see the woman who has made him so happy and. . .calm?" her ironic twist to the word was not lost on Logan.
"They're always out at night. Always sleepin' in the mornin', in the Danger Room in th' afternoon, but tomorrow's Saturday. Danger Room's off limits. So if yer lucky, you'll catch 'em makin' out in the den in front o' some European chick flick round about three o'clock."
"Thank you, Logan. You're a lifesaver."
"Welcome, darlin'. I guess I'll see ya tomorrow at three?" he held out a big, square, callused hand
"Yes, of course. Three." She pressed her slim fingers into his rugged palm. "It's a deal."
"Night again." He grinned.
"Good night." She turned walked into the motel lobby, picked up her key, and walked outside to her door. Slamming her key into its slot, she shoved open the door and locked it carefully after her. Tugging off her jacket and shoes, she stripped down to her underwear and sank gratefully into bed.
A few moments later, she sat up.
"Who's that?"
"No one, really," a low, masculine voice replied, a tall, imposing figure rising out of the darkness to greet her.
"Natty!"
"Rebecca," he smiled, and tossed her an oversized T-Shirt. "Put this on."
Rolling her eyes, she complied. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been ridiculously uninspired in the laboratory, my dear. Things have been going all downhill. None of my Marauders have been murdered, and thus I have done to recent cloning. The Summers family is fortified beyond my wildest nightmares and you are doing nothing (as usual) to aid me in my quest for their genetic material."
"I'm not here to be a supervillain OR a mercenary, Nathaniel Essex. I am here to reassure my erstwhile husband that I am not irritated at his romantic involvement with a woman who has previously been on frigid terms with me."
"I don't believe you are really so concerned about Master Creed as all that."
"Well then, you misjudged me when you paired us."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, come now," she rolled her eyes and smoothed her hair gently. "You didn't believe I would have gotten involved with Victor of my own volition? I knew you had plans for us!"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Oh, come ON! I don't mind having been a side project."
"A WHAT?! You have been my priority since the moment I kidnapped you!"
"Cute, but all wrong," Rebecca shrugged, allowing her hair to fall freely over her narrow shoulders. "I'm not an idiot, Nathaniel, you should know that. After all, you were the one to raise me." She smiled sweetly, staring into Sinster's glowing red eyes with as much trepidation as if she were gazing at an infant asleep in its crib. Drooling.
"You had BETTER not be going 'round telling people that I am practically your father!"
"You weren't. Unless strapping me nude to a metal table and performing life-threatening experiments on me is considered good fathering nowadays," she shrugged.
"You don't seem to be at all incensed that your childhood was spirited away from you and put to use in my laboratory."
"I had opportunities not many children have. Ever. You never neglected my academic schooling, and might I add that as you are one of the foremost scientists in the world, I knew the periodic table within the first year I was in your custody."
"You were four, and I never gave any attempt to school you before the tests were completed and I was assured that your body would not be overburdened by your prodigious capabilities. Furthermore, you gave no signs of genius intelligence."
"My genes had been over stimulated to psionisis, that my mutation might manifest fully within a few months. I merely tucked it away deep down in my astral consciousness, and I draw upon it when I need it. That is how I got all my schooling."
"How did you ever get ahold of the periodic table?"
"I don't know. You left one lying around, and I thought it looked interesting. I was scarcely alive, and on the verge of madness from having my telepathy running rampant. I picked it up and memorized it. Gave me something to focus on."
"Ah. You know, we need to have a talk about this," he bared gleaming white fangs in what had been a charming dazzler when he had been in his human body.
"No, we don't."
"Rebecca, my dear. . ."
"There's nothing to talk about, Natty. Please. Just stop." She pouted. "You haven't hugged me yet, you horrid evil genius."
"You aren't dressed."
"The great Nathaniel Essex, recoiling from a woman for modesty's sake! What will the Summers think!" she teased.
"You know, anyone else to say that would be searching frenetically for their insides by now." He murmured casually.
"You wouldn't hurt me, because you still haven't got your test results in from me."
"I still don't know how you mean."
"I saw your dossier on Victor and I."
"What dossier? I don't understand what you're saying."
"We're your secondary breeding project, Natty. And don't you DARE pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You set Vic and I up so we would make babies for your experimentation pleasure. But we got married instead. And the last thing he wanted to do was have a quadrillion pint-sized Graydons running about, and I didn't fancy getting pregnant, either. So between conventional contraceptives and my telekinesis, everything worked out well. Even though it was difficult getting up MY strength. He recovers quickly from EVERYTHING, did you know?" she gave Essex a saucy wink.
"Rebecca, I…"
"You don't know where I got these ideas. Yes, of course." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to visit him tomorrow."
"Are you going to apologize for running away from him-yet again?"
"No, I am not. We're not getting back together, Nathaniel. We're confirming our divorce."
"Why would he want to divorce you?"
"Because he's fallen in love, as unlikely as that sounds."
"With whom?"
"With one of the more powerful members of X-Cell."
"Jubilation Lee?"
"She's their leader, and yes, she's extremely powerful, but that would be just a LITTLE too Freudian for Victor. She's his brother's protégée."
"So who is it?"
"Guess."
"He isn't homosexual, and he likes blondes, but he enjoyed certain-aspects of telepathy, so I'm going to go with Monet St. Croix."
"And Davis has the ball. . .he's running. . .he's in the end zone. . .touchdown!"
"Thank you, but I am not in the mood to do a victory dance, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," she smiled. "However, I am extremely tired, as I HAVE been dancing tonight, and my legs are jelly."
"Perhaps that has more to do with your partner than your physical endurance."
"And perhaps not." She smiled. "I'm tired, Natty. Please open a tesseract and begone."
"All right." He leaned toward her, arms open, and she slid into the embrace easily. "We've missed you in Europe."
"Well, tell the Marauders that I'll be down shortly to kick their tails to Kingdom Come."
"I'll do that. Farewell, but not forever."
"Farewell but not forever, Natty." She grinned as he opened a portal and stepped through. "Damn," she murmured. "I'm going to have to take a bath, or Logan's going to tear me apart."
XXX
Chapter Five: Of Roofs and Mad Geniuses
Disclaimer: All Marvel Characters are the property of Marvel. This is a work of fanfiction, not an attempt to infringe on Stan Lee's personal arsenal of hotties. I can wish all I like, but Sabes is never gonna show up to collect me, and that's that. Oh, yeah, I'm making zero profit off this and if you want Beck, just ask. X-Cell is my own invention, and it includes the members of the former Generation X (e.g. Husk, M, Skin, Jubilee, Chamber, Leech, and Artie Maddocks, now known as Vision) and is headed by Jubilation Lee and X-Man.
As always, the lifeblood of the fanfiction author is reviews. I will respect constructive criticism, but flames are sincerely unappreciated. My e-mail address is seraph_taurus@thekeyz.com. Thanks for your time and God bless.
XXX
All was silent on the roof of Xavier's Institute. The moon was full, and its round yellow face seemed to mock the hard silhouette it cast into harsh relief. Gambit cupped the flame of his lighter carefully as his lit up a cigarette, inhaled, held the acrid smoke in his lungs for a few moments before exhaling it into the crisp night air, where it dissolved into intricate patterns of swirling gray.
"Remy?" unprepared for the voice of an old lover to break his concentration on nothing in particular, the man leapt up and turned in a single, graceful movement, swiping his bo-staff from his pocket and extending it to full length, with blades on either ends. "What're yah doin', sugah?"
"Not'in', chère. Broodin'. What de hell y' t'ink I be doin'? 'Sides, what de hell do YOU care?"
"A lot, Remy How's it goin' with Sarah?"
"It ain'. She dumped me."
"Everyone seems to think it ain't permanent. Lahke you'n Ah."
He chuckled quietly, the dry sound sending a shudder up Rogue's spine. "We were a disaster, weren't we?"
"Why'd she leave yah?" Rogue settled beside Gambit and crossed her legs.
"Why you wanna know?" he grinned cynically. "So y' can gloat?"
"No, Remy. Ah wanna be friends."
"Dunno if dat's possible aft' de emotional roller-coaster we put each oder on."
"AH think it's possible. Only if yah want."
"It'll be misinterpreted, chère. Dere's no point in our bein' friends. I got Stormy fo'e romantic advice an' cryin' on de shoulder."
"But Ah don't wanna be shut outta yoah lahfe, Remy, even if weah not romantically involved anymoah."
"Mebbe it ain' de bes' t'ing now. If we get close, chère, ev'yone'll say, 'Look at de LeBeau man-whore. Sarah break up wit' him 'cause he sleep 'round, now he go back t' Roguie.' Can' do dat, ange." He took another drag of his cigarette.
"Ya really love her, don't yah?"
"Oui,"
"Moah than yah loved me?"
"Rogue, it was different. Fo' Sarah an' I de relationship was mo'e physical den anyt'in', an' dere was a lotta instability. I wasn' sure whedder she loved me, an' she didn' know dat I loved her. Wit you, de on'y t'ing keepin' us T'GETHA was love. Dere was practically not'in' else. R'memba?"
A distant look came to Rogue's eyes before they snapped back into clarity. "Remy," she said, in a warning tone, "y'all didn't cheat on Sarah, did yah?"
His head whipped around, his demon's eyes stuck into hers like twin daggers. That one look was worth a sermon.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"Don' worry 'bout it." His voice was low, guttural.
"Ah know yah didn't cheat on me when we were togethah."
"Den why woul' y' t'ink I'd cheat on Sarah?" his voice dipped and cracked the moment he said her name, becoming soft, almost reverent.
"Ah dunno. Ah'm sorry, Remy. Ah shouldn't have. . ."
"Well, y' did. So, did y' really come up here t' gloat over m' ruined social life, or did y' want somethin' else?"
"Oh. Yeah. Scott says yoah in foah Security Watch with Bishop."
"Fantastique." He murmured. "I get t' bond wit' my adopted son from an altenate timeline. Mebbe t'morrow we can catch de baseball game." He groaned as his back popped. "I ain' as young as I used t' be."
"Weah all gettin' oldah, Remy."
"Oui. Jeanne be dyin' her hair red, an' Scott's gettin' 'distinguished.'"
"What's the average age of th' X-Men now, sugah?"
"Ain' interested. As long as I still got de moves an' de body, non?" he shot her one of his best smiles, the kind that still made her go weak in the knees.
"An' yah surely do still have them," she muttered to herself. Then, aloud, "C'mon, sugah, Ah don't suggest yah keep a six-and-a-half foot tall, 275-pound time-traveler with an arsenal in his jeans pocket waitin', huh?"
"Oui, I guess y' be right."
XXX
"Thanks for the drive home, Logan."
"'S jest what gentlemen do."
"Well, it was a lovely evening. I had no idea you could ballroom dance so well."
"SLOW-dance." He corrected gently.
"Slow dance. Whatever." She waved her hand in a random gesture of dismissal, and Logan caught it up in his.
"Ya know, Sinister does that, too."
"Does he," she shrugged. "I hadn't noticed. He IS the only paternal caretaker I've ever known, so it's not entirely perplexing that I inherited some of his more subtle idiosyncrasies."
"I guess not. Well, it's been nice, darlin', thanks fer the company."
"You're welcome, and good night."
"Night." He turned to start up his scoot.
"Just a moment, if you please," she snapped her fingers a couple times, as though in afterthought. "Do you know what times Victor and Miss St. Croix are likely to be at the mansion? I would very much like to see the woman who has made him so happy and. . .calm?" her ironic twist to the word was not lost on Logan.
"They're always out at night. Always sleepin' in the mornin', in the Danger Room in th' afternoon, but tomorrow's Saturday. Danger Room's off limits. So if yer lucky, you'll catch 'em makin' out in the den in front o' some European chick flick round about three o'clock."
"Thank you, Logan. You're a lifesaver."
"Welcome, darlin'. I guess I'll see ya tomorrow at three?" he held out a big, square, callused hand
"Yes, of course. Three." She pressed her slim fingers into his rugged palm. "It's a deal."
"Night again." He grinned.
"Good night." She turned walked into the motel lobby, picked up her key, and walked outside to her door. Slamming her key into its slot, she shoved open the door and locked it carefully after her. Tugging off her jacket and shoes, she stripped down to her underwear and sank gratefully into bed.
A few moments later, she sat up.
"Who's that?"
"No one, really," a low, masculine voice replied, a tall, imposing figure rising out of the darkness to greet her.
"Natty!"
"Rebecca," he smiled, and tossed her an oversized T-Shirt. "Put this on."
Rolling her eyes, she complied. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been ridiculously uninspired in the laboratory, my dear. Things have been going all downhill. None of my Marauders have been murdered, and thus I have done to recent cloning. The Summers family is fortified beyond my wildest nightmares and you are doing nothing (as usual) to aid me in my quest for their genetic material."
"I'm not here to be a supervillain OR a mercenary, Nathaniel Essex. I am here to reassure my erstwhile husband that I am not irritated at his romantic involvement with a woman who has previously been on frigid terms with me."
"I don't believe you are really so concerned about Master Creed as all that."
"Well then, you misjudged me when you paired us."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, come now," she rolled her eyes and smoothed her hair gently. "You didn't believe I would have gotten involved with Victor of my own volition? I knew you had plans for us!"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
"Oh, come ON! I don't mind having been a side project."
"A WHAT?! You have been my priority since the moment I kidnapped you!"
"Cute, but all wrong," Rebecca shrugged, allowing her hair to fall freely over her narrow shoulders. "I'm not an idiot, Nathaniel, you should know that. After all, you were the one to raise me." She smiled sweetly, staring into Sinster's glowing red eyes with as much trepidation as if she were gazing at an infant asleep in its crib. Drooling.
"You had BETTER not be going 'round telling people that I am practically your father!"
"You weren't. Unless strapping me nude to a metal table and performing life-threatening experiments on me is considered good fathering nowadays," she shrugged.
"You don't seem to be at all incensed that your childhood was spirited away from you and put to use in my laboratory."
"I had opportunities not many children have. Ever. You never neglected my academic schooling, and might I add that as you are one of the foremost scientists in the world, I knew the periodic table within the first year I was in your custody."
"You were four, and I never gave any attempt to school you before the tests were completed and I was assured that your body would not be overburdened by your prodigious capabilities. Furthermore, you gave no signs of genius intelligence."
"My genes had been over stimulated to psionisis, that my mutation might manifest fully within a few months. I merely tucked it away deep down in my astral consciousness, and I draw upon it when I need it. That is how I got all my schooling."
"How did you ever get ahold of the periodic table?"
"I don't know. You left one lying around, and I thought it looked interesting. I was scarcely alive, and on the verge of madness from having my telepathy running rampant. I picked it up and memorized it. Gave me something to focus on."
"Ah. You know, we need to have a talk about this," he bared gleaming white fangs in what had been a charming dazzler when he had been in his human body.
"No, we don't."
"Rebecca, my dear. . ."
"There's nothing to talk about, Natty. Please. Just stop." She pouted. "You haven't hugged me yet, you horrid evil genius."
"You aren't dressed."
"The great Nathaniel Essex, recoiling from a woman for modesty's sake! What will the Summers think!" she teased.
"You know, anyone else to say that would be searching frenetically for their insides by now." He murmured casually.
"You wouldn't hurt me, because you still haven't got your test results in from me."
"I still don't know how you mean."
"I saw your dossier on Victor and I."
"What dossier? I don't understand what you're saying."
"We're your secondary breeding project, Natty. And don't you DARE pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You set Vic and I up so we would make babies for your experimentation pleasure. But we got married instead. And the last thing he wanted to do was have a quadrillion pint-sized Graydons running about, and I didn't fancy getting pregnant, either. So between conventional contraceptives and my telekinesis, everything worked out well. Even though it was difficult getting up MY strength. He recovers quickly from EVERYTHING, did you know?" she gave Essex a saucy wink.
"Rebecca, I…"
"You don't know where I got these ideas. Yes, of course." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to visit him tomorrow."
"Are you going to apologize for running away from him-yet again?"
"No, I am not. We're not getting back together, Nathaniel. We're confirming our divorce."
"Why would he want to divorce you?"
"Because he's fallen in love, as unlikely as that sounds."
"With whom?"
"With one of the more powerful members of X-Cell."
"Jubilation Lee?"
"She's their leader, and yes, she's extremely powerful, but that would be just a LITTLE too Freudian for Victor. She's his brother's protégée."
"So who is it?"
"Guess."
"He isn't homosexual, and he likes blondes, but he enjoyed certain-aspects of telepathy, so I'm going to go with Monet St. Croix."
"And Davis has the ball. . .he's running. . .he's in the end zone. . .touchdown!"
"Thank you, but I am not in the mood to do a victory dance, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," she smiled. "However, I am extremely tired, as I HAVE been dancing tonight, and my legs are jelly."
"Perhaps that has more to do with your partner than your physical endurance."
"And perhaps not." She smiled. "I'm tired, Natty. Please open a tesseract and begone."
"All right." He leaned toward her, arms open, and she slid into the embrace easily. "We've missed you in Europe."
"Well, tell the Marauders that I'll be down shortly to kick their tails to Kingdom Come."
"I'll do that. Farewell, but not forever."
"Farewell but not forever, Natty." She grinned as he opened a portal and stepped through. "Damn," she murmured. "I'm going to have to take a bath, or Logan's going to tear me apart."
XXX