Disclaimer: If I owned the X-Men, why am I writing fanfics instead of comics?
A/N: Ahh, all those tears from last chapter really warmed my cold, black heart… No, just kidding! Believe me, it hurt me too. And yet, all that pain and heartache seemed to compel the most reviews. Interesting, very interesting. Maybe I should do that more often… Nahh. We'll just have to see if things work out, won't we?
Star-of-Chaos, Orage, ASGT, Raven2687,PomegranateQueen, demiducky25, Sweety8587, Leishy, UniversalAnimeGirl,vespie, Dreamcatcher89, MidniteAngelGoth, Ms. Rogue LeBeau, Rogue Almighty, CajunBelle, perturbedpercy, EE's Skysong, RgGOTH, lonewolf, EviltwinAlix, TheDreamerLady,ChibiKaril, enchantedlight, flowerperson, Blackrougefillie,skyangle2004, xpoisonedxangelx, Rogue14, untouchable hexing witch, AnalisDestiny, Me, and darkstorm5000 – You know, Oprah gave every member of her audience cars. And while I'm just as appreciative, I can't afford one car, let alone a couple dozen. How bout some thank-you HotWheels instead?
angyxoxo – Wait, what's that? I finally got you to feel sorry for them? Excellent! Bwa ha ha… But hey, don't give me grief for putting them through all that – might I point your attention towards a little fic called "Shouldn't Be So Hard"? Yeah, that's right, you're just as bad as I am, missy! ;-)
Krys Xanthina – Oh, you're forgiven. After all, such dedication, reading 5-18! Gold stars for you.
Carla-p – Aww, thanks for all the reviews! I only saw the film twice – after the first time I thought, hmm, this would make a good fic, so I saw it again and tried to remember all the stuff I wanted to incorporate. Too bad the DVD hasn't come out yet, that would've make things easier.
ROMY-4-EVA – Oh, ye of little faith… ;-)
SweetRevenge151 – Sure I'll help with your title, anything to get your new work up soon! Seeing the Moz in December, eh? Okay, we'll have to compare his choice of dinner jackets then. And I just recently found out about the rivalry between him and Robert Smith – not in NME (which we do have here, I buy it when there's someone I like in it, but it's hideously expensive – stupid imports!), but on some website. It's so disappointing, cuz they're both so lovely! My sister came up with the idea of getting them both to play the same show without knowing that the other will be there, and they'll walk out on stage, see each other, and finally put aside their differences! Okay, so maybe not… But I can dream.
Pandora's Sorrow – Yup, that's what this fic is based on (I mentioned it in the notes for chpt.1).
TheRealMai – Ahh yes, blame Belle for everything… I like the way you think! ;-)
the sinister bra – Thanks for mentioning about informing his family, I almost forgot about that! Heh heh, oops… Yeah, that would've been pretty important. I worked it into chapter 21, I believe.
Sophie – Hey, Canadians don't disembowel, we're too nice, eh! The hockey sticks and moose riding I don't mind, but Celine Dion? Now, that's just insulting. ;-) Trade Hugh Jackman for sexy Canadian diver? We've got a deal!
heartsyhawk – I've learned to embrace my evilness. Seriously, you should hear me cackle when I get so many distraught responses… I guess I'm cruel in that way. And hypocritical, cuz I hate when other author's do evil things, but that's just the way I am! At least I can admit it.
Calliann – Glad the tissues kept you from drowning, but now you've got a soggy mess on your hands, which is no fun! Oh well, I think you can put away the tissues from here on in.
Goddess Evie – Okay, not exactly Express Mail. The package got lost so it took a few days longer, but at least it reached its destination! But as an added bonus, it got delivered by the UPS guys in their cute brown shorts. ;-)
Now, now, let's not all freak out – last chapter I said Remy would be getting ready to leave for the Bayou. Did I specifically say anything about him actually getting there? Hmm… ;-)
Loved and Lost, or Never At All?
Chapter 19 – Commands
"Memory always obeys the commands of the heart." – Antoine Rivarol
Remy's eyes fluttered as he slowly began to wake up. He felt strange… Exhaustion, maybe? He had slept, he knew that, but it seemed as if he hadn't – instead, it felt as if he'd been running around the whole night.
Forcing himself to sit up, he let out a groan. His head was pounding…. Had he been drinking last night? He was still in his clothes, his shoes were still on – it was like he had just fallen into bed. It was his own bed, Remy noted with surprise – if he was at a bar, the odds were that he would have ended up in some random femme's bed. He didn't exactly feel hung-over… So what happened?
Concentrating on yesterday, Remy did his best to think of what he had done. It was all a big blur… Oh, wait, there it was. He had gone to Xavier's Institute… That was it, the old man wanted to see him about a place on his team, now that he was done with Magneto's contract. He scoffed at the thought, and shook his head – that action turned out to be a mistake, as his headache increased in intensity.
Groaning, the Cajun staggered into the bathroom, where he reached into the medicine cabinet and swallowed two tablets of aspirin, dry. Hopefully that would help deal with the mother of all migraines hammering away in his head.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Remy saw that he looked like hell. There were bags under his eyes, there were three small tears in his shirt, and he badly needed a shave. Well, one thing at a time – pulling out his razor, he quickly shaved, then stripped and hopped into the shower. The blast of cold water rejuvenated him, waking him instantly, but it couldn't shake the nagging feeling from the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something…
He did his best to ignore it. If he couldn't remember, then it mustn't have been that important, he deduced.
He stepped out of the shower dripping wet, dried himself off, and put on some new clothes. He threw the top he had woken up in into the garbage – he didn't know where the trio of holes over his heart had come from, but the shirt was ruined now.
As he walked away from the wastebasket, Remy felt something dig into his foot. Wincing slightly, he kneeled to get a closer look at what it could be. His attention was caught by something small and silver – picking it up, he found it to be a clasp, one from a necklace or a chain.
'Where de hell is dis from?' he wondered curiously. He didn't wear anything like that. Could it have been from a femme? No, looking back, he couldn't recall the last time anybody had been over to his apartment…
Thoroughly confused, he placed it on his dresser. It was probably nothing.
Gazing around, the apartment seemed rather empty. Did it always look so bare? Remy brushed it off – it didn't matter, it was simply less junk for him to pack. He wanted to go back to N'Awlins, he decided. He missed the bayou already, even after only a few days away. Xavier was kind enough, but he doubted a thief would fit in well with his team of freedom fighters.
There was simply nothing keeping him in Bayville.
Gambit quickly gathered his things – there really wasn't much to pack, just clothes and toiletries to toss into a large duffel bag. The paintings on the wall, the electronics, the furniture, none of that was important – they were all replaceable, all things he had back home in the Guild mansion.
Home. It called to him, the soothing song of the South. Tante Mattie had once joked that he had swamp water running through his veins – it was probably true, and he needed it replenished. But maybe he should take the longer route, do some sightseeing across a few states before going back, just in case. After the wedding fiasco, he should probably let relations between the Guilds calm down before he came sauntering back into town.
The grim recollection of what had happened back in that church made him frown. 'I need a cigarette,' Remy told himself, knowing it would put him at ease. Yes, that would definitely soothe him, especially after this bizarre morning. Something was just… Off.
Patting down the pockets of his trench coat, he was surprised to find himself without a pack. Heading over to his bedside table, there were none in the drawer there either. Searching through every room, Remy could not find a single cigarette in his apartment. Surprisingly enough, however, he didn't even feel a craving…
This was mystifying. Wondering if he was going insane, Gambit grabbed his duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder, and hurried out the door. He just needed to leave, that was it. Tying his belongings on to his motorcycle, he hopped on, revved the engine, and zipped off.
'Au revoir, Bayville,' he thought as he drove down the road. He wouldn't miss this place.
Before he sped up, something on the side of the street caught Remy's eye. Without realizing it, he pulled over and parked his bike in front of Le Café Café. He felt a curious, compelling urge to go inside. No, it was more than an urge… It was like something was commanding him to enter.
He didn't fully understand the sudden impluse, but he went along with it anyway. A jolt of caffeine sounded good right about now, especially since his supply of nicotine was nowhere to be found. Hopping off the motorcycle, he strolled up to the establishment. It seemed familiar, but it couldn't be. Remy knew for a fact that during all the time he spent in Bayville, he had never been here.
Pushing open the door, the Cajun walked in. He liked it almost immediately – there was a comfortable feel to it. It reminded him of a library, or a den. As usual, Remy vigilantly scanned the area – he took in the customers sitting at the tables, and then instinctively searched for possible exits – his training was so deeply ingrained that he couldn't even get a cup of coffee without feeling paranoid, he thought. A second later, however, he was grateful for his cautiousness.
When Remy's eyes detected an exit sign at the back of the café, he couldn't help but notice something else – something that was much more intriguing than possible escape paths.
At the very back was a table almost obscured from view – it was out of sheer luck he saw it, for it could have very easily been missed. Sitting alone at that table was something the Cajun could never resist: a belle femme. But this one happened to be more beautiful than all the rest…
Remy let his eyes wander all over her, drinking her in, trying to ignore the unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. The first thing he noticed was her unusual hair – it was a rich auburn colour, but with two white streaks at the front. It was different, but he decided almost instantly that he liked it. He liked the rest of her too – lush curves accentuated by leather pants, pale, flawless skin that could be seen through her fishnet shirt, and pouting lips emphasized by dark purple lipstick.
After taking in her physical beauty, he focused on her actions. She was huddled in the corner, attentively reading a book. A gloved hand grabbed hold of a steaming mug of coffee and brought it to her lips, then quickly jerked it away when it was found to be too hot. The whole time, her eyes never left the pages. He wished they would, he felt an overwhelming urge to see what those eyes looked like… Judging by the rest of her, they would have to be absolutely stunning.
Forcing himself out of his daze, Remy finally returned to reality. How long had he been watching her? He must have seemed ridiculous, just standing at the entrance like that… But it didn't matter. All he felt was an intense longing to go talk to her.
Commanding his feet to move, he started over towards the rear. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing – something about this mystery girl intrigued him, it called out to him and lured him in, and he had only just laid eyes on her! Remy wasn't quite sure he liked that feeling, of something pulling him in like that… He was determined to establish what it could be. It was most likely a fluke, he was positive his mind would soon realize that she was really nothing special.
When Remy reached her table, he took a deep breath – as a way to assuage the nervousness he was feeling? For some reason, this felt so important, so pivotal… Shrugging that thought away, he put on the most charismatic smile he could and began.
- X -
Rogue was quite content. She was curled up with a good book and a cup of coffee in the café – her usual back table was quiet, secluded, just as she liked it. There was nobody there to bother her, or to judge her – her novel didn't talk back, it just allowed her get lost in a fantasy land where she could forget all of the problems and feelings and emptiness that plagued her in the real world. Factor in the delicious drink that always managed to calm her nerves, and it equalled Rogue's perfect afternoon.
It was nice, the feeling of ease and relaxation. Perhaps it would take her mind off those confusing emotions that had been badgering her lately… Of course it would, she told herself. Rogue was determined not to think of them today – she would simply finish reading The Vampire Lestat, and then she could work on finding a copy of Queen of the Damned. Yes, that would keep her busy enough, enough to ignore those annoying, incomprehensible feelings.
Her plan set, Rogue's attention was once again engrossed in her book until she heard a smooth, rich voice speak."Excusez-moi, chère, mind if I sit down?"
Before she even moved, she had pinpointed the accent. 'Cajun', she identified, and was instantly reminded of the South, before snapping her head up to determine who dared to disturb her. Upon seeing precisely who happened to be standing there, her jaw then dropped open in shock.
It was the same man from yesterday, the one who stood in the doorway and watched her! She recognized him immediately – he wore the same old trench coat, his dark hair was still dishevelled, but he was clean-shaven now… His most distinguishing feature, those gorgeous eyes of his, were hidden behind sunglasses this time, and Rogue felt disappointed at that before reminding herself to get a grip.
She quickly shut her mouth and tried to act like she wasn't gawking at him. 'Jeez, gal, yah hear a Southern accent an' yah automatically go all soft!' she chastised herself. It was time to regain some dignity and portray her frosty persona – glaring at the stranger, Rogue replied coolly, "Yeah, Ah do mind."
Her tone didn't do much to send him scampering off, like it usually managed to. Acting as if he didn't hear her, he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.
Annoyed at his action, she pinpointed his type immediately – he was the kind of guy who was all too aware of how attractive he was, and it had gone to his head. 'Aww, crap, Ah just admitted that he's attractive…' Rogue then took in, but couldn't do anything about it. He was, that much was true – too bad the package didn't come stocked with a more respectful personality.
She narrowed her eyes, but he was too busy looking her up and down to notice her glare. "Are yah deaf? Ah didn't say yah could sit!"
"'M not deaf, I just didn't listen," came his smooth answer. "I'd like t' talk t' y'."
"Ah ain't interested," she stated, endeavouring to get back to her book. All she had wanted was a nice, relaxing afternoon, not some pretentious, pompous man stealing her privacy! Rogue had absolutely no interest in such a cocky specimen – besides, she already had one of her own, she remembered, thinking of Pietro.
"I t'ink y' are," the Cajun smirked infuriatingly.
"Why would yah think that?" she scowled, finally slamming her novel shut and looking up at him. Clearly, ignoring him wouldn't work. "Yah don't know meh."
"Non, but mebbe I'd like t'."
This time Rogue was the one to smirk. "An' how do yah know that? Again, yah don't know meh," she repeated, believing she had gotten the best of him and laughing to herself – this was probably the first time a girl had ever pushed him away, she wondered if he would be able to take it!
"Again, I might not know y', but I'd like t'."
"Why?" she asked, now suspicious. Why was someone like him, someone who could have any girl he wanted, here with her? There had to be something else to this…
He contradicted her doubts. "Cause I t'ink y're interestin', an' dat y're someone wort' knowin'. Dere's no evil purpose b'hind dis."
"Riiight," she drawled, not believing him for a second. There appeared to be an evil purpose behind everything in her life – starting from the very beginning with her adoption, Rogue had been used and betrayed, and this was probably just another opportunity for that. Him being the type of guy he was, she guessed that his objective would be to get into her pants. 'He'll sure be disappointed,' the girl thought wryly.
"'M serious!" he continued, in a futile attempt to convince her of his sincerity. Right, like she would fall for this… "Can't un homme sit down wit' a belle fille he's interested in an' talk t' her?"
"No!" Rogue shouted, embarrassed when some customers looked her way. Quieting her voice, Rogue still kept her words sharp. "No, no, yah can't, not when that gal is meh, got it?" she spat out in a vicious whisper. Without him meaning it, his words had hit her hard – she would never be a normal girl like that, one who could flirt with men such as him that hit on her.
"Why not?" he queried softly.
"Cause Ah'm a mutant!" Rogue hissed, not even caring that she could be revealing herself to a potential mutant-hater. A small part of her hoped he was, maybe he would run off scared like all the rest and leave her alone!
However, the flirt looked more curious than afraid. "Really?" he questioned. "What are yo' powers?"
"Yah really don't wanna know," she mumbled, crossing her arms and slouching in her seat.
"I asked, didn' I?"
She glanced back up at him, and then huffed in contempt. "Okay then. Ah absorb th' memories an' life force o' whoever Ah come into skin on skin contact with, an' if they're a mutant, Ah get their powers too," Rogue explained bitterly, and continued in a sarcastic tone. "An' th' best part is that Ah don't have control over it!"
After she was done, she sat and waited for the part she knew was coming – the part where he'd call her a freak and rush off in terror. What she didn't expect was for him to remain sitting across from her. From what she could tell, there was no fear on his face – why not? It was hard to ascertain his emotions with those sunglasses hiding his eyes, but Rogue could swear that he actually looked sympathetic.
"So," she continued cynically, knowing it must have been her imagination. She didn't want his damn pity… She would just hand him a way out, and watch him take it. "Yah still wanna sit an' chat? Or are yah gonna go an' keep yer distance like everyone else?"
"Mebbe dey all keep a distance cause y' want dem to," he observed.
Her self-deprecating feelings dissolved in an instant, replaced with loathing at this man, and the gall he possessed. Who the hell was he to judge and analyze her? "Excuse meh?" Rogue whispered, slowly and dangerously, daring him to explain.
He obviously had a death wish, because he continued. "Looks like y' push people away. I just wanted t' talk t' y', dere's nothin' wrong wit' dat, but instead, y' act all hostile!"
"Hostile? Damn straight Ah'm hostile!" she exclaimed, on the verge of hysterics, yet somehow managing to keep her voice down – there was no need to humiliate herself in front of everybody. "Ah hurt people with a single touch! Yah can't possibly know how that feels! Yah can't know what it's like to have people scared o' yah, to have 'em flinch when yah walk by!"
He frowned. "Don' assume dat," he told her. "'M a mutant too, chère. I can blow t'ings up wit' a touch – when I first got m' powers, I blew up everyt'in', so I know 'bout hurtin' people, 'bout not touchin' anyt'in'. An' believe me, I know 'bout people bein' afraid o' y', an' flinchin' around y'," he divulged.
Rogue felt some of her anger ebb away with his speech – they had gone through the same things… But an unbidden resentment quickly surged up from within her. 'That was in th' past fo' him! He doesn't have to go through those things anymo', he can touch now, and he probably takes advantage o' that fact fo' all its worth!' she fumed, but then her train of thought derailed when he took off his sunglasses and stared straight at her.
"At least dey don't call y' Le Diable," he continued quietly.
Logically, she would have thought her first reaction to be fear upon seeing his eyes, but instead, she only felt captivated once more, just like yesterday. "They're not devil eyes," Rogue finally spoke in a hushed voice, slightly embarrassed when it hitched. "They're beautiful."
She couldn't believe she had just paid him a compliment – she barely knew him, and just seconds ago they were fighting! But the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. They really were beautiful, and even though she had seen them the day before, they still managed to make her breath catch in her throat.
They were strange, but in a unique way. They were demonic, but in a striking way. They were frightening, but only in the way that they managed to shake her to her core. The only word she could think of that would encompass everything she thought about them was 'beautiful', and even that was a weak descriptor.
"So are yo' eyes, chère… Wait, what? Y' actually mean dat?" he enquired, as if he thought what she said had been a slip up. It was almost… endearing to see the man act so unsure when moments ago he had been more arrogant than anything.
"Ah said it, didn't Ah?" Rogue said, insulted that he thought she would lie about such a thing. "Yah don't believe meh?"
"Well, y' didn' believe me earlier 'bout wantin' t' talk to y'…"
She scowled. "Are we back to that again?"
"Oui."
"Argh!" she exploded, throwing her hands in the air, and leaning over the small table to jab him in the chest. "Get this through yer thick skull, Cajun – Ah'm not a concept, Ah'm not just some untouchable gal yah can win over as a challenge!" Rogue informed him fiercely, stabbing him with her finger to emphasize her words. She had had enough of him – maybe being viciously blunt would make him realize the mistake he was making in attempting to charm her! "Ah'm fucked up enough as it is without some… Some swamp rat playin' meh!"
"Good, cause 'm not playin'," came the cool reply, as if her outburst never occurred.
"Holy shit, what on earth will it take to get rid o' yah?" she cried. She was amazed that after all this arguing, he was still sitting there, calm and collected.
"Like I said befo', I want t' sit an' talk wit' y'."
"Yah can't be serious," she marvelled.
"'M very serious," he persisted. "If y'd stop wit' all dat self-pity, mebbe y' could see dat. Can' we please just sit an' chat?"
"Oh yeah, cause yah're really wooin' meh by talkin' to meh like that," Rogue shot back sarcastically. Did he honestly think he'd get on her good side by insulting her?
He heaved a huge sigh. "Desolé," he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. She tried not to notice how alluring that action was… "Look, dere's no harm in talkin', henh? Gimme a little while, it won' kill y'."
He was so stubborn, it was exasperating! He was challenging her in a way nobody else dared – she wasn't about to back down, but she was nearing her limit! Giving him a frosty look, Rogue gestured towards her coffee. "Yah've got until Ah finish this cup, an' then Ah'm gone," she ruled, giving him no other options.
"Ahh, merci, chère," he smiled at her, reverting to his charming guise.
"Ah ain't yer chère, swamp rat," she snorted, and tentatively sipped her coffee. It gave her something to focus on, other than the intense desire to reach over and wring his neck – he had her blood boiling like never before!
"Well, y' have a pet name f'r me already, so 'm only returnin' de favour," he retorted with a grin.
"Aww, how considerate," Rogue said in the sweetest tone she could manage, having it ooze with insincerity. "Sorry, but Ah'll have to decline."
"Well den, how 'bout y' just call me Remy."
"That's yer name?" she inquired while once again tasting her drink. It was too hot now, so she put it down in frustration – she would have to put up with the Cajun a bit longer. Dammit, she wanted to drink it fast and get out of here!
"Oui, Remy LeBeau, at yo' service, chère," he introduced himself, even bowing a little. "An' y' are?"
She had to keep herself from smirking when she mentally translated his name – Remy 'The Handsome'? No wonder he was so damn full of himself! Then noticing he was waiting for her own name, she stated, "Rogue. An' Ah'm not yer chère!"
"Cute nickname, but what's yo' real one?" Remy asked.
She grimaced. How could she tell him, when she herself didn't even know? "It's just Rogue, swamp rat," she enlightened him sternly.
"How mysterious," he grinned.
"Ah try," was the brusque response.
"So…" he trailed off.
Rogue noticed his pause and pounced on it – it was time to infuriate him as much as he did her. "Hmm, yah use up all yer charm already, bayou boy?" she taunted.
"'M never out o' charm," Remy retorted. "Y' just interrupted me befo' I could finish."
"Whatever," she teased, not believing him. "Then continue, by all means. Yah were sayin'?"
"Well… Tell m' about yo'self," he requested.
"Yah ain't gettin' anythin' outta meh," she said guardedly. "Yah know too much already."
"Hey, no need t' get defensive!" he yelped, throwing his hands up in the air in surrender. "'S only a simple question, y' don' have t' answer it if y' don' want."
"Good, cause Ah won't," Rogue let him know.
"Well, how are we goin' t' get t' know each ot'er if y' won' talk?" Remy beseeched her. He had a damn twinkle in his eye that told her he knew exactly what he was doing, riling her up like this, and he enjoyed it! Well, she sure didn't.
"Ah don't wanna know yah!" she corrected him, abruptly standing up from her chair – it was time to end this. "An' yah've learned all yah will about meh!"
"Oui, I learned dat y've got one hell o' a temper…"
"An' now yah can learn that Ah ain't gonna sit here an' let yah play yer damn game!" she seethed, grabbing her novel and moving to leave.
Before she could rush off, Remy shot out his leg, jamming her between it and the wall to their one side. "Hey, not so fast, chère," he wagged his finger at her. "Y' said I had until y' finished de drink."
Shooting him the most malicious glare she could muster, Rogue managed to force out, "Fine."
She felt a great sense of satisfaction, knowing that he thought he had her – instead, she snatched her mug and drank down all her coffee, doing her best to ignore the painful burning in her mouth. It would be more painful to sit back down and spend more time with the swamp rat!
"There, done," she panted, shoved his leg out of her way, and stalked out of the café without another word.
- X -
Remy LeBeau ambled back into his apartment and threw his duffel bag onto his bed. His body then followed, as he stretched out comfortably with his heads clasped behind his head. A broad grin slowly grew on his face – he had found a reason to keep him in Bayville. And what a reason she was…
Well, look at that, they meet again… In much the same way. Huh. Fancy that! Of course they would, do you really have so little faith in me? Kudos to all you who predicted it. But the real question is, what will happen between them now? Dun dun duhh!
Next chapter – Some nice conversations in the park.
Okay, I'm expecting lots of reviews, all happy and filled with exclamation points that they found each other again, yay! So bring 'em on! Reviews ahoy.
Toodles,
- ish -