I do not own X-Men: Evolution and/or Marvel in any way, shape, or form. Please do not sue, for it will inevitably just be a waste of time and money in trying to find a suitable lawyer. Thank you.
Twist
"Oh, Remy Etienne LeBeau... come and give y' Tante Mattie a big kiss!"
A widened, plump woman nearing the three-hundred pound mark held her arms out to what she considered her 'nephew', wrapping them around his back and pulling him into her warm, loving bosom that he visited and comforted him so when he was just a child. He tried to escape the ageing woman's suffocating grasp, but she was as strong as an ox and held on. After what seemed to be hours, but in actuality, minutes, of crying and asking why he never bothered to ring or visit, Mattie let go of the young man and moved onto his companion.
"And who is dis t'ing m' Remy has brought home t' us?" she asked Remy's brother, Henri, who shrugged. Her hands rested on her bony hips as she studied Rogue. "A belle femme, Remy. Good job." She patted him on the back. "Y' should keep her." She winked at Gambit, who simply smiled back and said nothing.
Rogue stepped forward and put on her best face. "Ah'm Rogue. That's Logan, Ororo, Scott, and mah younger brother, Kurt. We all live at the Xavier Institute in New York." She shook the woman's hand.
"Such a long way. Y' must be exhausted. By de way, m' name is Mattie... Tante Mattie."
"Well," Jean-Luc said after all introductions had been said. He fixed the collar of his shirt and continued, "Let m' show y' t' y' rooms. Follow m' and don' get lost." Even though she knew he was joking, Rogue pondered the thought about never finding her way out of the large house and held onto Remy who knew his way around. He led them up an exhausting, endless amount of stairs that had Rogue winded in seconds. Finally, they stopped at the third floor and were shown the west wing where all the guest rooms were located. Rogue claimed the second room from the stairs and flopped onto the bed with a contented sigh.
Remy sat down beside her and stroked her soft hands. She pulled away, slightly uncomfortable with the amount of lust she saw in his eyes. She had only just got her---did she want to make a bad impression that fast? Besides, the last time Rogue had been alone with the womanizing player was their second encounter at the hotel where she had conceived. She wasn't about to take another chance.
"What's wrong, chère?" he asked, noticing the tense expression on her face.
She stretched and faked a loud yawn. "Ah'm just tired, is all," she lied, trying to sound as believable as possible. Rogue didn't want to tell him the truth, which was that she questioned his motives and the way he looked at her as if she were something not of this earth, but more heavenly. She gave him a light push and gestured to the door. "Good night, Remy." Her voice, flirtatious and dangerous, made him sigh inwardly as he made his way out, shutting the door behind him.
He silently walked down the East Wing where his old bedroom used to be and still was.
He took a good look. It hadn't changed at all, really. His posters still hung on the walls and his television still sat in the corner on a small stand. And a picture of his best gal---make that ex-best gal, the one he left at their wedding, right at the alter in front of everyone---sat on his dresser, staring him.
'Remy wonders... what ever happened t' de femme?'
He didn't know that he would soon find out, and that he wouldn't be happy about it.
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Mardi Gras was coming to an end. It was Fat Tuesday, the last day of everyone's joyous celebrating. Rogue woke up to a growling stomach and six little legs kicking at the sides of her distended belly. "Alright, alright," she moaned, getting out of bed to brush her hair before heading downstairs, "we can go and get some breakfast, if that's what ya want. Just a minute." She knew it was insane to talk to herself, but she quite enjoyed knowing at least someone was listening to her.
In her pajamas, not embarrassed in the least, Rogue ran down the stairs and entered the kitchen where a preoccupied Tante Mattie was barking out orders to cooks and servants. "We need mo' dishes!... Where's de pig I ordered? Make sure it's cooked all de way dis time!... Start baking de bread! We only have nine hours t' prepare fo' everythin' and everyone, an' we can't waste any time!"
Rogue grabbed a box of cereal and began to chow down.
Mattie turned around and was surprised to see a quiet, quite dejected looking Rogue staring down at her bowl of Cheerio's and milk. "What's wrong, child?" she asked, bringing the young girl out of her depressing thoughts.
"Hmm." Rogue looked up at the woman. "Ah was just thinkin' 'bout the party tonight. Ah got a dress yesterday, but it's not very pretty. Everything else was sold out."
Tante Mattie smiled. "I have jus' de t'ings t' fix dat. Let's get started."
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Remy straightened his ensemble and quickly bent down to give his new shoes a shining. He pulled up the sleeve of his tux and looked at the watch he had borrowed from his cousin, Emil. 'Six o'clock. It's time. T' night is de night,' he thought to himself as he stood erect and waited for the girls to come parading down the red carpet---strutting their stuff---leading from the main entrance and into the ballroom of his father's mansion. He looked at his watch again, weary of the time. 'She should be here any minute now.'
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Rogue studied her reflection in the mirror with great interest. The dress she was wearing to the ball was something she never could have imagined. In just a few hours, Tante Mattie had transformed the ugliest dress in the world into something fit for a girl of higher status than herself. It was a burgundy halter dress that fell right above her knees, letting her long, nicely shaped legs breathe. The color contrasted well with the paleness of her skin, as well as the black shawl Tante had let her borrow and the uncomfortable high heel sandals currently strapped to her feet. The dress covered her belly, and if you weren't looking at her from the side, you could hardly tell she was due for delivery soon. And for the first time in her life, she let a little cleavage show. A silver locket sat atop her chest. Hoop earrings drooped from ears, while bracelets adorned her right ankle. The long, black gloves bought from a small store in New Orleans covered her arms, just in case of an accident.
Makeup was completely absent today. Remy's aunt was very old school and a strong protestor against anything unnatural on the human body. She already had long lashes, so there was no need for mascara, and everything else just made her look like a painted Barbie doll---that was what Tante Mattie had said. She had also stated that Rogue was gorgeous and that she shouldn't hide behind so much maquillage, or cosmetics. Rogue was currently on the verge of tears. "Ah've never looked this good."
"O' course, m' dear. Tante can do anyt'ing. Now, stand still and let m' finish wit' dis hem."
A knock on the door startled both women. "Who is it?" the old woman asked impatiently. She was eager to show Rogue off to the other women at the ball. Having never borne a daughter, it was nice to dress up someone younger than herself and the same gender for a change.
"Ororo," the voice behind the door answered. "Rogue's instructor."
"Come in."
The door slowly opened and the thirty-five year old woman, still a beauty, walked in wearing a strapless, light purple dress that covered her feet by about an inch. She gasped and threw her hand over her mouth in shock. "Rogue, you look radiant."
"Thanks, Miss Munroe."
"Remy's going to die."
Rogue turned to look out the window of the second floor. A drop of rain splattered against the glass. "Ah sure hope so. Ah really do."
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Horns blew, alerting all the men and elderly women that the festivities were about to begin. Two of Jean-Luc's attendants stood by the door and held black, feathery fans to block the girls' faces until they were ready to be shown. The girls pranced down the carpet, waving and blowing Remy kisses. Even thought it had been five years since he left the Bayou, all the women still remembered him, most probably because he had told each and every one that he loved them and ended up leaving after toying with their emotions. Yet, they still fell for him and followed him around like lovesick puppies.
Yes, he knew he was a heartless cad back then, but a feeling of settling down had come over him after discovering the untouchable Rogue pregnant with his babies. And he knew what he had to do. He fingered a black box in his pocket and sighed. It was going to be one eventful night---and he didn't even have to be psychic to know that.
The girls rushed over to him, swooning and asking for a dance. "Femmes, y' all look belle, but..."
Rouge emerged from the entrance and into the ballroom. He stared in awe, as she radiated more beauty, poise, and intelligence than any other female in the room. The girls scowled. How dare that River Rat take the eyes of their man!
She slowly walked down the aisle and was immediately flocked by men who were pushing and shoving, just so they could get a chance to stand by her and smell her fragrant perfume. Like the parting of the Red Sea, Gambit raised his arms and the girls reluctantly moved out of his way. He cleared his throat and in a polite, yet firm voice, said, "She's mine, hommes." Both sexes moaned at the loss.
Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Since when did Ah belong ta ya, LeBeau?" she asked.
"Since y' became pregnant wit' Remy's kids," he answered. He grabbed her hand and laid a tender kiss on it. "Y' look belle, chère..." His voice faded out as his eyes caught sight on a beautiful blonde girl moving across the room in his direction. His worst fears had been confirmed. 'Bella Donna. Dieu, please help Remy. Give him mercy,' he begged.
"Yeah, Remy," Rogue scoffed. "Ah'm belle, alright."
"What? Don' y' agree?"
"Nobody would look at meh. Even ya won't. Ah'm... ordinary. Not at all as stunning as that girl over there," she confessed, pointing to the girl Remy had been staring at.
Remy eyed her as if she had grown another head. "Nobody's payin' de least attention t' dat needy Bella Donna. Chère, Remy must be de luckiest man on de face of de earth t'night... just t' be in y' presence." There was a period of time where both were extremely quiet. Finally, Gambit broke through the annoying silence. "Would y' like t' dance?"
She smiled and nodded her head. Her grabbed her arm and led her onto the dance floor. The men on the stage behind them began to sing an old Elvis Presley song, "Don't Be Cruel." His father had been obsessed with the major star and was devastated at his death. Of course, Remy had memorized every song he had ever sung---how could he not when he heard almost every hour of the day? He could even recite the verses backwards.
He put his hand on her waist, while she put hers on his shoulder. She squeezed. They clasped each other's left hands and began to dance in time to the music. He dipped her low and wriggled his eyebrows, getting a short snort from his partner. He stood back up and twirled her around. She felt dizzy, but the sensation soon disappeared.
After a few seconds or so of dancing, he began to serenade her, repeating the words from the song.
"Baby let Remy be,
Y' lovin' teddy bear
Put a chain around his neck,
An' lead Remy anywhere
Oh let Remy be
Y' teddy bear..."
He had a surprisingly good voice. She grinned and continued swaying back and forth as he whistled the rest of the tune.
The song ended, and he began singing her the next one.
"Don't stop t'inking of Remy
Don't make Remy feel dis way
Come on over here and love him
Y' know what Remy want y' t' say
Don't be cruel t' a heart dat's true
Why should we be apart
Remy really love y' baby, cross his heart..."
The two became close... closer than they had ever been. Rogue looked over Remy's shoulder and spotted that blonde girl looking at them again. 'Ah'll make her jealous. Let's see how she lahkes this.' Remy leaned in. Rogue stared deep into his eyes and saw genuine love and desire---the craving of her soul---two things she had dreamed of since she was a kid, but had never experienced. She stood up on her tip toes, leaned in a bit, and parted her lips. He pressed his mouth to hers, gently at first. The kiss got deeper and filled with more passion. His body was against her, his heat warming her. Her hand ran up his back, while his never wandered from holding her head. The kiss became more intense. The hot lights beating down from above caused them to perspire a little. She felt burning---Remy's mutation---against her lips and she could feel herself absorbing him.
Wolverine had been standing against a wall, keeping an eye on all the kids visiting from the Institute and laid eyes on Rogue and Remy sucking face. He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and was about to go after Gambit when he was stopped by Storm and Tante Mattie. "Y' can't stop her, Logan. Y' know dat. She is grown now. Her life is her own decision." The lady put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Logan took a deep breath as the words from the woman sank into his heart. 'She's right. Rogue's eighteen now. I can't protect her anymore,' he thought sadly. He stalked out of the ballroom and outside. He idly walked through the garden, wishing for a fat cigar to stick in his mouth, missing Rogue's current predicament.
His thoughts flooded her head. She took a step and fell to the ground. Tears stained her cheeks. She got up and ran to her room, slamming the door shut, escaping from the outside world.
On the other side of the room, Bella Donna smiled. 'Perfect timing.'
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Bella walked in, locking the door behind her. She sat on the bed and rubbed Rogue's back, trying to comfort the heartbroken girl.
Rogue looked up and scowled. "What are ya doin' here?"
"I know how y' feel," Bella said. "T' be lied t' by de person y' loved so much, t' be left for someone better dan y'..."
"What do ya mean? Ah don't even know ya!"
Bella Donna smiled sadly. "Remy didn' tell y', did he? I was his ex-fiancé, Bella. De one in de picture he still keeps on his dresser." Rogue felt as if she had been stabbed. He didn't even bother to get rid of old fiancé's pictures. What kind of man was he? And she thought he may have loved her. What a joke! "He left m' at de alter, right before de 'I do's'. He told m' he loved m' so many times, it was like drugs. I was addicted t' it and I couldn't see t'rough de lies he was weaving right in front of m' face. 'Amour,' he said, 'is another word dat people use t' describe Remy and y'.' Pshaw. He promised m' de world and left m' fo' another girl."
Rogue sat upright. "He lied ta me, too. He told meh Ah could touch, but all this time, it was just his shield. Ah could've sworn Ah felt skin. It felt so good." She lingered on the thought for a moment before going on, "He wanted ta make meh happy for all the wrong reasons. He could've told meh the truth, but he didn't. And Ah had ta figure out the hard way. He lied and now mah trust in him is broken." She remembered his shield slipping and his thoughts prodding their way into her mind... his spirit in her own.
"He's a dirty rat. Dat's what he is," Bella said, shaking her head. "I still can't believe I used t' love him. But he's nothing but a lying, cheatin' scoundrel, always lookin' out fo' himself and never de others around him." She patted Rogue on the shoulder. "If y' need t' talk, I'll be downstairs. Take care."
And she was gone, leaving Rogue to cry into her pillow.
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"Chère, Remy's sorry! Don't go!"
"No, Remy. Ah'm goin'! Ah don't care what happens ta ya!" Rogue couldn't bear to look at his pathetic face. She continued packing her things into her suitcase. She would be heading back to New York in the morning, leaving without Remy. "Love doesn't lie. It just doesn't."
"What 'bout all the lies y' told Remy? Love doesn't lie," he mimicked in a sarcastic tone.
"It's different! Ah never loved ya!" she screamed. In her hearts of hearts, she knew she was denying her feelings and lying right then, but being so outraged at the whole situation, she couldn't think clearly. "Ah still don't! But ya just couldn't leave meh alone! Ah should've never told ya 'bout bein' pregnant, but Ah was scared and needed support, but lies weren't what Ah needed. Ah needed somethin' real ta hold onta, and ya couldn't give meh that. If ya had just been truthful, then we wouldn't be havin' this fight! Get out and leave meh alone," she said in a deathly serious tone.
"No."
"Get out, ya double-crossing, sneaking, two-faced, two-timing dope!"
He seized her by the shoulders. His grip was hurting her, but she refused to give into the pain. "Who told y'?" he asked, his eyes burning. But she refused to be scared of him. She pushed him off of her and turned away.
"Bella. Ya ex-fiancé. The one ya never told meh about. The one ya still have a picture of! Ya happy now!"
Remy didn't say anything, and she didn't wait for him. "Now get out!" she screamed again, pushing him towards the door, using the Blob's absorbed strength and invulnerability. She tossed him out and bolted the door, sliding down against it and sobbing.
'Lies. Condemnation. Love. Ah knew he was too good ta be true. He would cheat on meh eventually. It was all a con. Wasn't it?'
On the other side of the door, Remy was trying to control his emotions, but he wasn't getting far. He took the box from his pocket and opened it up to a ring. 'A real wedding where she could have had all her friends and family come and see... ruined. One mistake and it's all gone.' He threw the box across the room, hitting a vase.
The clay fell to the ground and broke in two pieces.
Just like both their hearts.
- Hi all. First off, I want to say I don't own Cheerio's, Elvis, or his songs. Thanks for reviewing. You guys are an awesome bunch! Hope you liked this chapter, or maybe not, since it did end up really sad. I don't know. I know Tante Mattie isn't really overweight, but to me, it seems as if it makes her more cuddy. My thoughts, of course. It's you guys' decision. Anyways, I'll try to get another chapter out maybe this weekend, if I can get to the computer. Please review. It inspires me. Thanks again! Bye. xmengirlzrule -
