Does It Look Like its Going to Storm to You? – Chapter 3
Remy, borne along on the errant wings of mischief had found himself meandering along the corridor which housed the door to Logan's lair. It was just coincidence. No, well, actually, if he thought about it with an honesty that was just slightly foreign to his thieving ways, it was because Wolverine annoyed him. More like aggravated him to the point where Remy had no qualms in snooping around his room.
He tried the door, and not surprisingly it was locked.
"Dat would jus' be underestimatin' the enemy, now, wouldn't it?" He murmured to himself, eyes sparkling something indecent as his long slender fingers dove into his pocket , rummaged around for a few seconds and then with a grimace of pain, withdrew a long slender platinum pick lock, and looked balefully at the finger which now had a drop of blood welling up on it.
Irrationally he found himself blaming Logan.
"Remy." He turned and dropped the lock pick so that half was laying flat against his palm and half was concealed by the depths of his trench coat.
"Why if it isn't the trés belle Kat'rin." Kitty regarded him with narrowed eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Kitty always affected indifference where Remy's charm was concerned. It worried him slightly. Remy shrugged nonchalantly. "Lookin' for Logan."
"And here I am, bub." Remy's face only drained of colour a little as out of the corner of his eye he could see Logan framed in the now open doorway, both arms above his head. He wasn't smiling. Admittedly, if the situation had been reversed, and it had been Logan knocking at Remy's door, he wouldn't feel all that pressed to be welcoming.
"Dere you are." Remy echoed , and stepping back a bit dropped the lock pick in his pocket, wincing as it made a soft clinking sound. He chanced a glance at Logan who was now grinning at him. Not nicely either.
Kitty just shook her head. "Well, Prof wants you down in the control room after lunch today."
"Moi?" Remy experienced a pang of uneasiness.
"Me as well?" Logan raised both his eyebrows.
"Both of you." She began to phase back into Bobby's room.
"Yeah. Hey Kitty? What you doin' there in Ice Cube's room?"
"Studying, Logan. What else would we be doing?" She phased through completely with a hiccupping giggle that was cut short by the wall.
"Yeah, whatever." Logan grumbled, and then started towards Bobby's door when he heard laughter and Bobby's attempts to quieten Kitty.
He walked back into his room, leaving the door open. Normally, that was a very inviting position for a door to be in Remy's experience, but now he felt the distinct chill of a 'walk to your doom' air around the whole situation.
"You coming in?" Logan turned to face Remy and popped his claws with a loud 'snikt'.
"Dat sounds like you be threat'nin' moi." Remy laughed lightly, but watched Logan carefully. He wasn't entirely joking.
Logan laughed as well. A small huffing sound. To Remy's ears it didn't sound like it came naturally to him either.
He walked it, seemingly uncaring, but in truth, he felt uneasy about this. Hell, he felt uneasy about Logan. Remy was normally pretty good at pegging people, but Logan was a bit of an anomaly to him.
"So you wanted to talk?" Logan was all Lone Ranger, sitting in his chair by the window, the sun framing his head and making it hard to read his expression.
"Not if I want to get blinded, mon amie." Remy retorted, shielding his eyes from the glare. Even if his expression was hard to read, the sudden glinting of teeth was unmistakable, and Remy balancing himself up against the wall was intrigued.
They hadn't sorted out any of their differences. Remy wasn't any closer to understanding Logan then he had been before entering his room. Logan had used the opportunity to educate Remy, in not a quiet voice either, about the privacy of others. This was much to the amusement of Bobby and Kitty who had walked by and stared agog, until Bobby, catching a glimpse of Logan's expression hurried them past.
He just kept on and on and on about it. It reminded Remy of midnight mass. With a really boring priest. Of course he heard the lock pick. He smelt Remy a mile off before he'd actually got the lock pick out of his pocket. This started a tangential line of thought for Logan. If Remy wanted to go round smelling like a combusted perfumery, that was his choice, but don't assault his nose with it.
Remy tried to counter all this by saying that Logan's door was the only one that had been locked, and if he couldn't pick a locked door here, how was he going to keep his skill up to date? It was all about continuing education. Logan understood the need for that, didn't he? And as for his cologne, just because he didn't relish smelling like blood, sweat and dirt, yes, that was his choice. Logan could just shove nose plugs up his nostrils if his nose was that sensitive. Rogue had come by at that moment, ready, it seemed to have a civil conversation with Logan, and Remy, thankful for the interruption had sidled out feeling like a chastised school boy. Just because the Wolverine was old and mouldy, he thought bitterly as he slunk down the stairs.
After lunch he had followed Logan to the professor's door. H didn't want to strain whatever they had building so he kept silent most of the way over, and Logan occasionally shot him a suspicious look. He just splayed his hands palm upwards.
Charles cast a brief eye over both of them and the gestured that they be seated.
"Welcome back, Logan. It's becoming to be our little ritual, these comings and goings of yours."
"Thanks." Logan ignored whatever else the professor was trying to say. He was never good at reading between the lines. It wasn't a skill he was busting a gut to perfect either.
"Look, I don't want to keep you gentlemen here any longer than necessary. I need you both to take a trip. To Long Island. On Saturday. Nothing big. There's just going to be a FOH rally there. I want you to scout the place. Get the feel for what's the general populace's way of thinking towards mutants."
Logan had been staring intensely at Remy, and Remy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "With him?"
Charles Xavier shrugged and smiled beneficently at him. "What can I say? Remy has the gift of the gab, and will get you out of trouble when you need to be talked out of it, Logan. I want you to work together. I think you complement each other well. I just don't want any shows or heroics. You need to keep a low profile."
"That's what I'm best at, Chuck. But the New Orleans one-man vaudeville show over here? I don't think that's his strong point."
"That's why you're there, Logan. Now, I don't need anyone else knowing about this. Scott and Jean and the others are taking a well deserved break from this kind of activity, and I'd like to keep it that way for a while."
"OK." Remy shrugged dismissively.
Logan grunted out what sounded like an agreeing sound to all of them.
As thy walked out, Remy fell into step with Logan. "So, de both of us. On de campaign trail together. Who knows, you might even get to like me." Logan smirked and him, and didn't slow down his step.
"Don't push your luck, Gumbo." And he moved on, leaving Remy surrounded with that faint aroma of blood, sweat and dirt.
It was an uncomfortable sensation, and Ororo had the distinct feeling it was all her fault. She knew, gut instinct had told her, that having a second piece of the vegan chocolate cake was a mistake. But it was just so damn good, and she was such a sucker for punishment. She had dropped Jean off at Scott's door and made her way to the TV room to collapse on one of the large overstuffed chairs that the school had ordered last Christmas. She remembered that they'd got the idea when sitting like stuffed pythons on the uncomfortable second hand crap they'd bought at a charity thing.
She couldn't even move, but was eyeing the remote on the table, knowing that if she just slouched forward a couple of inches more she could get it and then reverse back into her position.
Her eyes narrowed as the remote was swept from her line of sight, and the TV flickered on, and then the volume turned up. On...what the hell was it? She flinched at the sight of a man launching himself into the air and then landing on another equally unsavoury looking fellow beneath him. Class.
She turned her head without moving her body and could see the profile of the person sitting next to her. She closed her eyes. She really wasn't in the mood for Logan right now. She had thought long and hard about this and realised that she had to be one of two moods when talking with Logan. One was extremely charitable, because then, everything that he said could be taken with a grain of salt. The other was extremely angry, because then anything she said could be dismissed as said in the heat of...err...the fight.
She slid another covert glance at him, and was surprised to meet his assessing gaze.
"Big afternoon?" It was said neutrally, and without interest. Ororo could tell that he didn't really care if he got an answer.
"Cake." She exhaled the word on a sigh, and laid a hand on her slightly distended stomach. Logan just grunted and turned his head back towards the television.
"You?"
"Oh you know, a little of this, a little of that. I kept myself occupied." His glance at her this time was slightly sour, with narrowed eyes and a smirk.
'I imagine that you would have." She tried to haul herself off the chair but because her centre of gravity had moved with that additional cake she'd eaten she collapsed back in the chair. Logan snickered. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he avoided her eyes. "Something funny?"
"TV." He inclined his head. She inclined hers, and watched silently for a couple of seconds. "Mmmm. Very funny, Logan."
"Keeps me amused." He shrugged. He turned to her. "Have you heard anything about this FOH gathering on Long Island?"
"No. When is it?"
"I'm not really sure." He hedged, "I just thought there were rumblings of it being cooked up when I was on my way back down."
"From your trip."
"Yeah. What of it?" He looked at her sharply.
"Nothing. Nothing." She held her hands up appeasingly. He held her glance for a short moment, and then turned his attention back to the TV.
She got up to leave, shaking her head inwardly. Surely, there must be some way to engage Logan in normal conversation, but she hadn't found it yet. She was halted by his voice. "You left these." He wasn't looking at her, and she saw the glint of silver in his curled up palm. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Thanks." She didn't ask where he had found them, and was unsure of whether the protocol demanded she say anything about his danger room session. "You were good. I was surprised. You haven't had any training for a while, and that's one of the hardest scenarios."
"Thanks. Next time you and Gumbo want a repeat performance, remind me that I should sell tickets." He bit out.
"I wasn't with Remy." Her voice was puzzled and he raised his eyes to hers, his brown ones glimmering. She was telling the truth. "Well, whatever." He said and slightly embarrassed but not wanting to show it, he broke her gaze. She shook her head and walked out of the room. "Strange." He heard her mutter. "Very strange."