***
THE CITY
***
Remy was flabbergasted. So totally out of speech. She had taken a bus ticket to that God-forsaken place? THE God-forsaken place?
He ran to his bike and drove off immediately, leaving behind a dumbfounded cashier.
***
It was curious, this place. Nothing like New York, or Bayville for that matter. Of course, it didn't help that she was here in the middle of February.
There were too much people to her taste. And it was hot with her body covered from neck to feet. She was able to control her powers and the voices within most of the time but here, in the middle of huge crowds, she was afraid her mental hold would slip.
Crowds were her only fear at the moment though and it was suppressed at the back of her mind because of all the clothing that engulfed her. She was free. More important, she didn't feel like she was being stalked. Nobody knew who she was and, at that period of the year, nobody cared. It was exuberantly fascinating and pleasant.
Not only that, but the surroundings were breathtaking. It was the architecture and the sounds of jazz floating on the sultry air, *the sights of lush and serene hidden courtyards peeking through wrought iron gates*, the scents of flowers and spices perfuming the air...the city.
She had been here for two hours and she had already fallen in love with New Orleans, Remy's hometown. She sighed. "Do not think about him" repeating over and over in her head. The magic was that it actually worked. It must be the city that was doing this to her. She was in the middle of HIS city and still she was able to think about other things. Dwelling on that, she could see why Remy could fit so perfectly here...or the city could fit Remy.
"Huh, maybah the city's not workin' it's mahgic strong enahgh."
As she progressed through the streets, the city changed from new to old style. The architecture was different. Here it was old fashioned, Victorian age without the old worn look. Everything was clean and in excellent conditions. Crossing the streets, there were people talking English and French. Carriages took people on some romantic rides and terraces were crowded with people. There where no parades here like the other area though. She looked at the map she had acquired at a tourism stand. She was in the French Quarter...Remy's Quarter probably too.
"Argh, Ah'm addicted to the guy."
She continued down the streets, turning her gaze on every house, every car and every person. She was aware she looked exactly like a tourist but it was too fascinating not to stare.
She stopped at the first bar she saw which included a cosy bed-and- breakfast on the higher levels. The bar itself looked clean enough. Of course it wasn't a downtown bar like she had seen before in New York. Bar and Café were mixed here. Comforting Jazz music floated in the air twirling with cigar smoke. Red benches and mahogany tables were disposed in a manner that the owner on the other side of the bar could see his clients. There were people of all ages and of both sexes. In the middle of Mardi Gras celebration, people less respectful kept their distance. It also helped that it was only three in the afternoon.
That was what it did to you to get up for four days in a row at four in the morning and skipping lunch. You ended up in a bar at three in the afternoon. She sighed and took a seat at the bar.
"Allo Madame, what can I do for you?" The bartender, fat and sporting a moustache, well like a typical bar tender, had a really big accent. Fortunately, she had had practice with Remy.
"Glass of water please." She wasn't going to get drunk at three and in a city she had never visited. In fact, the reason she was here hadn't anything to do with tourism...well maybe a little. In any case she wanted to know more about Remy and this was the perfect place. She wasn't stupid enough to try to find the Thieves Guild but she figured out she could find a clue about his childhood and how he came to be the man he is now. The city was one of a kind and had probably shaped Remy's live as well since the man was also one of a kind.
She hadn't left the Institute to forget him. If she wanted to do so she would have to kill herself anyway and she hadn't finished with life anyway, she wanted to see it getting better and living that better life.
She wanted to get to know him, to understand him better. It was not crying herself to sleep every night at the Institute that would make her realize that goal. She figured out she could have taken vacations. Not here anywhere near the US. But hey, this was better then Egypt or Brazil: she get to have hot water and electricity. Well, to have those things she needed to find someplace to live before.
The bartender gave her her glass. "Hum, sorry sir but would yah know of a place where Ah could sleep?"
The bartender stared at her for a couple of seconds before answering. "Madame, dere are no place left to sleep around de city. Not in de middle of Mardi Gras."
Her face crumbled. "Stupid girl yah should have known. Of course that meant Ah should have known it was Mardi Gras...what the hell am Ah gonna do?" To the bartender she simply said a brief "Oh" and smacked her head on the counter and stayed in that uncomfortable position.
"What are you doing here Madame, or should I say why did you ran away from you house because it's what I figured out you being here alone arriving in on a coup de tête?"
"Clever man." Out loud she proceeded to tell her story...without the mutant facts. She didn't know what it was with bartenders : they always make you confide in them. "Ah ran away from my home in New York because Ah couldn't stand it anymore and Ah just feel like Ah'm gonna kill everybody and Remy's stupid and he's a freakin' liar and Ah...argh!!!!"
The bartender lifted his hand in a stopping gesture. "Calm down Madame...do you have money?"
This sounded too much New York-like to Rogue's taste. Was the guy thinking of robbing her? Her face clearly expressed her thoughts because the man took a step back and rapidly replied. "Non, non, Madame, I didn't mean to insult you! I only wanted to know if you had money because I could rent you a room."
"Yah, of course Ah have money!" She simply couldn't pass the opportunity.
He showed her her room. Situated on the second floor, it was a simple bed with flowery covers and flowery curtains and a flowery bathroom. She hated flowery. It was his daughter's room when she came to visit. He was rather not inclined to let someone else sleep in it but since she needed dire help, it was for a good cause, indeed. He left her the key and went back to help his wife downstairs.
She didn't move her things in the empty drawers, she left everything in her sports bag. She didn't know what could suddenly happen. The bartender could call the police. He sure had the reasons too, she noted, since she had blurted out that she had ran away. A lot of probabilities, not all of them joyous, could happen. She was determinate that nobody would catch her on surprise without a fight or a good run.
She went downstairs and without anybody noticing her leaving, she found herself on the street. This was a rare occasion. She hadn't made a single trip for pleasure. For once in her life, she wasn't going to stay locked in her room dwelling on someone not worth her thoughts.
She started to walk in the direction she hadn't seen yet, to explore what lay after the bar-bed-and-breakfast where she was lodging. She continued on Bourbon street until she crossed Toulouse which she decided to take. All around her were eccentric stands with busy people selling beads, masks, doubloons and other emblems of Mardi Gras. She stopped when she reached the end of the road. In front of her stood a port. A small, romantic-like port where pleasant boats and sailboats where moored. In front of her was the Mississippi.
She found a bench with view on the coast. She smiled to herself. This was great. People walked pass her on the wooden sidewalks, cheerful people. People in celebration. The opposite of her.
Two people sat on the bench on each side of her, popping her out of her reasoning. She looked at the corner of her eyes : two built, tall and in shape guys, one blond, the other dark, both in their middle twenty. Instantly, she was on alert. She could probably take them both on...with the entire population looking.
"Hé ma jolie, qu'est-ce que tu fais ici, totalement seule." ["Hey, beautiful what are you doing here, totally alone?"]
Hum, would they take her for a deranged girl if she just looked at the marina with a dumb smile on her face ? Anyway, she didn't understand a word he was saying.
Thinking about it, they weren't going to attack her in the middle of the afternoon and in the middle of a crowded place, right?
The other guy said something to the blond man who had talked to her one minute ago.
"J'pense pas qu'elle comprend...elle parle probablement anglais. [I don't think she understands...she probably speaks English."]
The blond man repeated his question. "What are you doin' here, beautiful?"
Damn! They talked English. Continue to stare at the marina.
"You dumb or something?" He poked her on her shoulder.
She reacted instantly and sent him sprawling on the ground.
The dark man lifted his hands in surrender, laughing all the while. "We don't wanna hurt you! We're friends!"
"Didn't yahr mother tell yah about strangers and not talking to them? Leave me alone." She crossed her arms, sealed her lips and stared at the marina.
"Listen tourist, we only wanted t'befriend you! We know the city better dan anyone and we wouldn't mind to show you around...not at all, en fait."
The guy looked sincere. She relaxed a wee bit. "Hum...would yah guys happen to know about a music store?"
They both grinned, the blond man still on the ground.
***
The tall, lean and blond man was named Henri, while the darker one, broader at the shoulders, was Jake, or Jacques in precise French. They were cousins and looked the part. They also knew the city as well as their pockets, like they had promised to her.
After checking out the music store which turned out not to have a big variety of punk, hardcore or even pop-rock for that matter, they took her to a real bar. Well, what she thought was a real bar by her standards. Messy, cheap beer and young drunk people. It was seven in the evening.
"God, at what hour do you people get drunk?"
"Around dis hour, I'd guess." Replied lazily Henri, one arm laying limply on her shoulders.
"Yah, of course, I should have figured."
"Hey, Rogue, if you want, we can show you around dis week." This came from Jake who had a girl on each knee.
"Didn't yah proceed to do just do that this afternoon?"
"Dieu, non! It was only de local mall, if you can call it that. Dere's a bunch of other stuff t'do! I swear t'you that you won't want t'leave after we've taken you all over the town!"
Henri lifted himself from his sprawling position and wrote down his number on a napkin before resuming his lounging attitude with his arm around her shoulders. Rogue took the number and slipped it in her jeans pocket.
They were sitting around a large table. People the cousins knew had joined them, mostly sluttish girls who looked at her in a jealous manner which made her bet both guys were well sought-after. Just her luck. They possessed the typical Remy-like attraction and charms. She was immune to them though. It wasn't as powerful as the one she was used to from the Cajun but it was still able to get the other girls' attention. She sighed. Oh well, might as well make the most of it. She got drunk just enough to laugh at nothing and make her way the building where she was lodging with her defensive senses on alert.
***
She woke up the next morning with a painful headache. She made a mental check-up, going through what she had done yesterday. All memories where intact. Good, she hadn't done anything to be mortified of, then. Though Henri and Jake had things to be shameful about...indeed, they were the ones who had danced on the table while signing some national brawly song.
She got up, took a shower and went down to get breakfast and visit some more. On the streets, nothing had changed through the night : everything was as she remembered from yesterday. She loved it here. The city was a happy constancy.
She stopped at a stand to buy a mask, feeling like going with the crowd. She stopped before putting it on her head. God, she had changed over the past two years. Look at her, she was acting the same way as the rest of these people. HER! The antisocial gothic girl. Wasn't she supposed to look the part of her former self and stay in a bar and talk to nobody? She guess it came with her control of her powers. She didn't need to totally cover herself. She didn't need to flee people, though she still wasn't comfortable around crowds. She could TOUCH! She didn't need to be alone anymore. So why was she so alone at this particular place with so much people around her? She needed Remy. As simple has that.
"Yah're pathetic, girl." She put her black and white feather mask on.
***
He couldn't find her anywhere in the respectable part of New Orleans. In the middle of Mardi Gras celebration, the public places were crowded with all sorts of people. But Rogue wasn't here. He could have recognized her with a mask and a hood in the middle of a crowd of equally dressed people. He could sense her. And here, he didn't sense her. It frightened him.
The only place left was the French Quarter. She wouldn't have gone there, would she? He doubted the hope sorely. She was there alright. He should have followed his instincts in the first place. His love was attracted to danger.
The cute and stylish image of the Quarter was exactly that. An image, an illusion. It was also the home of the Thieves Guild and the Assassins Guild.
He walked to Bourbon street and found the Balcony, which crossed St Peter. He took a seat with a view down the street and waited, seemingly relax but in reality completely on alert, trying to recognized his love when she'd passed. He knew she would eventually come this way. Everybody did at least once each day.
It was seven in the morning. Four hours later he spotted her. Rather he sensed her because in the middle of the people, he couldn't make her out. He didn't lose one moment, he sped down the stairs to the street and made his way towards her.
***
People were so happy around her. Some were on family vacation, others were in couple or with friends and the rest were, well, drunk. She really couldn't figure out why they got drunk so early here.
She passed a couple of stores selling souvenirs, food or clothing. She also walked by a couple of already full bars and an outdoor stage where a jazz band was performing. She stopped for a couple of minutes to listen to their music...Remy's kind of music.
She continued her way after their third song, feeling blue and dreamy. Suddenly, she was yanked in an alley, surprised and panicked. She didn't have the time to react before being gently ("Gently? What the hell?") pushed on the nearest wall. She found herself face to face with a tired and sad looking Cajun, less than three inches separating their body.
Her eyes widened and her breath sharpened. She could feel his hands encircling her arms, the warmth seeping from them. Could feel his sweet breath ruffling her hair slightly and caressing her lips...and his eyes, his gorgeous red and black eyes, holding intently her gaze. His hands slid down her arms and went to her waist, holding her lightly.
"Rogue, love, let me hold you." She didn't say anything and didn't move her body either but when he stepped nearer so his body touched hers, she didn't act react passively. Her arms went around his neck of their own accord while she nestled her head on his shoulder.
They stayed immobile in each others arm for a long time indeed.
***
Bwah ha ha! I'm EVIL!!!! Major cliff-hanger considering what I'm planning for you guys...Guess who Henri and Jake are??? Bwah ha ha indeed.
Anyway, I wanted to thank my fan club who always review:
Ishandahalf: skimpy clothing and drooling planned...Hurray! (bunny on crack has been operated but instead of giving him a prosthetic leg, they cut his other foot!!! I'm beginning to worry about him...and ME with my mutilating thoughts! Poor bunny.)
Silver Ink: hope your cure is on good progress. Thanks.
Enchantedlight: Thanks, it's great to receive such positive reviews.
And I'd like to thank Sperry Dee too (would you like a membership to my fan club ; )
Do I sound like I've just received an Oscar or what?
I wanted to know that I took in consideration all your ideas of places where Rogue should leave...but well don't be mad at me for not listening to you guys (gives herself a slap on the hand)...I'm a bad writer...but don't you think it's a good idea? That way Rogue will learn about Remy's past and what kept him away from her (he DOES have a good excuse...he's Remy!)...and maybe a little Belladonna fight....I'm EVIL!
Hum, did a lot of research on the net to get the REAL New Orleans in my fic...in the middle of Mardi Gras celebration...much more action (I guess!) The part with * was taken on the net.
Last thing before you go review...you might plan on getting yourself a map of New Orleans on the net...it would be useful here, no?
Remy was flabbergasted. So totally out of speech. She had taken a bus ticket to that God-forsaken place? THE God-forsaken place?
He ran to his bike and drove off immediately, leaving behind a dumbfounded cashier.
***
It was curious, this place. Nothing like New York, or Bayville for that matter. Of course, it didn't help that she was here in the middle of February.
There were too much people to her taste. And it was hot with her body covered from neck to feet. She was able to control her powers and the voices within most of the time but here, in the middle of huge crowds, she was afraid her mental hold would slip.
Crowds were her only fear at the moment though and it was suppressed at the back of her mind because of all the clothing that engulfed her. She was free. More important, she didn't feel like she was being stalked. Nobody knew who she was and, at that period of the year, nobody cared. It was exuberantly fascinating and pleasant.
Not only that, but the surroundings were breathtaking. It was the architecture and the sounds of jazz floating on the sultry air, *the sights of lush and serene hidden courtyards peeking through wrought iron gates*, the scents of flowers and spices perfuming the air...the city.
She had been here for two hours and she had already fallen in love with New Orleans, Remy's hometown. She sighed. "Do not think about him" repeating over and over in her head. The magic was that it actually worked. It must be the city that was doing this to her. She was in the middle of HIS city and still she was able to think about other things. Dwelling on that, she could see why Remy could fit so perfectly here...or the city could fit Remy.
"Huh, maybah the city's not workin' it's mahgic strong enahgh."
As she progressed through the streets, the city changed from new to old style. The architecture was different. Here it was old fashioned, Victorian age without the old worn look. Everything was clean and in excellent conditions. Crossing the streets, there were people talking English and French. Carriages took people on some romantic rides and terraces were crowded with people. There where no parades here like the other area though. She looked at the map she had acquired at a tourism stand. She was in the French Quarter...Remy's Quarter probably too.
"Argh, Ah'm addicted to the guy."
She continued down the streets, turning her gaze on every house, every car and every person. She was aware she looked exactly like a tourist but it was too fascinating not to stare.
She stopped at the first bar she saw which included a cosy bed-and- breakfast on the higher levels. The bar itself looked clean enough. Of course it wasn't a downtown bar like she had seen before in New York. Bar and Café were mixed here. Comforting Jazz music floated in the air twirling with cigar smoke. Red benches and mahogany tables were disposed in a manner that the owner on the other side of the bar could see his clients. There were people of all ages and of both sexes. In the middle of Mardi Gras celebration, people less respectful kept their distance. It also helped that it was only three in the afternoon.
That was what it did to you to get up for four days in a row at four in the morning and skipping lunch. You ended up in a bar at three in the afternoon. She sighed and took a seat at the bar.
"Allo Madame, what can I do for you?" The bartender, fat and sporting a moustache, well like a typical bar tender, had a really big accent. Fortunately, she had had practice with Remy.
"Glass of water please." She wasn't going to get drunk at three and in a city she had never visited. In fact, the reason she was here hadn't anything to do with tourism...well maybe a little. In any case she wanted to know more about Remy and this was the perfect place. She wasn't stupid enough to try to find the Thieves Guild but she figured out she could find a clue about his childhood and how he came to be the man he is now. The city was one of a kind and had probably shaped Remy's live as well since the man was also one of a kind.
She hadn't left the Institute to forget him. If she wanted to do so she would have to kill herself anyway and she hadn't finished with life anyway, she wanted to see it getting better and living that better life.
She wanted to get to know him, to understand him better. It was not crying herself to sleep every night at the Institute that would make her realize that goal. She figured out she could have taken vacations. Not here anywhere near the US. But hey, this was better then Egypt or Brazil: she get to have hot water and electricity. Well, to have those things she needed to find someplace to live before.
The bartender gave her her glass. "Hum, sorry sir but would yah know of a place where Ah could sleep?"
The bartender stared at her for a couple of seconds before answering. "Madame, dere are no place left to sleep around de city. Not in de middle of Mardi Gras."
Her face crumbled. "Stupid girl yah should have known. Of course that meant Ah should have known it was Mardi Gras...what the hell am Ah gonna do?" To the bartender she simply said a brief "Oh" and smacked her head on the counter and stayed in that uncomfortable position.
"What are you doing here Madame, or should I say why did you ran away from you house because it's what I figured out you being here alone arriving in on a coup de tête?"
"Clever man." Out loud she proceeded to tell her story...without the mutant facts. She didn't know what it was with bartenders : they always make you confide in them. "Ah ran away from my home in New York because Ah couldn't stand it anymore and Ah just feel like Ah'm gonna kill everybody and Remy's stupid and he's a freakin' liar and Ah...argh!!!!"
The bartender lifted his hand in a stopping gesture. "Calm down Madame...do you have money?"
This sounded too much New York-like to Rogue's taste. Was the guy thinking of robbing her? Her face clearly expressed her thoughts because the man took a step back and rapidly replied. "Non, non, Madame, I didn't mean to insult you! I only wanted to know if you had money because I could rent you a room."
"Yah, of course Ah have money!" She simply couldn't pass the opportunity.
He showed her her room. Situated on the second floor, it was a simple bed with flowery covers and flowery curtains and a flowery bathroom. She hated flowery. It was his daughter's room when she came to visit. He was rather not inclined to let someone else sleep in it but since she needed dire help, it was for a good cause, indeed. He left her the key and went back to help his wife downstairs.
She didn't move her things in the empty drawers, she left everything in her sports bag. She didn't know what could suddenly happen. The bartender could call the police. He sure had the reasons too, she noted, since she had blurted out that she had ran away. A lot of probabilities, not all of them joyous, could happen. She was determinate that nobody would catch her on surprise without a fight or a good run.
She went downstairs and without anybody noticing her leaving, she found herself on the street. This was a rare occasion. She hadn't made a single trip for pleasure. For once in her life, she wasn't going to stay locked in her room dwelling on someone not worth her thoughts.
She started to walk in the direction she hadn't seen yet, to explore what lay after the bar-bed-and-breakfast where she was lodging. She continued on Bourbon street until she crossed Toulouse which she decided to take. All around her were eccentric stands with busy people selling beads, masks, doubloons and other emblems of Mardi Gras. She stopped when she reached the end of the road. In front of her stood a port. A small, romantic-like port where pleasant boats and sailboats where moored. In front of her was the Mississippi.
She found a bench with view on the coast. She smiled to herself. This was great. People walked pass her on the wooden sidewalks, cheerful people. People in celebration. The opposite of her.
Two people sat on the bench on each side of her, popping her out of her reasoning. She looked at the corner of her eyes : two built, tall and in shape guys, one blond, the other dark, both in their middle twenty. Instantly, she was on alert. She could probably take them both on...with the entire population looking.
"Hé ma jolie, qu'est-ce que tu fais ici, totalement seule." ["Hey, beautiful what are you doing here, totally alone?"]
Hum, would they take her for a deranged girl if she just looked at the marina with a dumb smile on her face ? Anyway, she didn't understand a word he was saying.
Thinking about it, they weren't going to attack her in the middle of the afternoon and in the middle of a crowded place, right?
The other guy said something to the blond man who had talked to her one minute ago.
"J'pense pas qu'elle comprend...elle parle probablement anglais. [I don't think she understands...she probably speaks English."]
The blond man repeated his question. "What are you doin' here, beautiful?"
Damn! They talked English. Continue to stare at the marina.
"You dumb or something?" He poked her on her shoulder.
She reacted instantly and sent him sprawling on the ground.
The dark man lifted his hands in surrender, laughing all the while. "We don't wanna hurt you! We're friends!"
"Didn't yahr mother tell yah about strangers and not talking to them? Leave me alone." She crossed her arms, sealed her lips and stared at the marina.
"Listen tourist, we only wanted t'befriend you! We know the city better dan anyone and we wouldn't mind to show you around...not at all, en fait."
The guy looked sincere. She relaxed a wee bit. "Hum...would yah guys happen to know about a music store?"
They both grinned, the blond man still on the ground.
***
The tall, lean and blond man was named Henri, while the darker one, broader at the shoulders, was Jake, or Jacques in precise French. They were cousins and looked the part. They also knew the city as well as their pockets, like they had promised to her.
After checking out the music store which turned out not to have a big variety of punk, hardcore or even pop-rock for that matter, they took her to a real bar. Well, what she thought was a real bar by her standards. Messy, cheap beer and young drunk people. It was seven in the evening.
"God, at what hour do you people get drunk?"
"Around dis hour, I'd guess." Replied lazily Henri, one arm laying limply on her shoulders.
"Yah, of course, I should have figured."
"Hey, Rogue, if you want, we can show you around dis week." This came from Jake who had a girl on each knee.
"Didn't yah proceed to do just do that this afternoon?"
"Dieu, non! It was only de local mall, if you can call it that. Dere's a bunch of other stuff t'do! I swear t'you that you won't want t'leave after we've taken you all over the town!"
Henri lifted himself from his sprawling position and wrote down his number on a napkin before resuming his lounging attitude with his arm around her shoulders. Rogue took the number and slipped it in her jeans pocket.
They were sitting around a large table. People the cousins knew had joined them, mostly sluttish girls who looked at her in a jealous manner which made her bet both guys were well sought-after. Just her luck. They possessed the typical Remy-like attraction and charms. She was immune to them though. It wasn't as powerful as the one she was used to from the Cajun but it was still able to get the other girls' attention. She sighed. Oh well, might as well make the most of it. She got drunk just enough to laugh at nothing and make her way the building where she was lodging with her defensive senses on alert.
***
She woke up the next morning with a painful headache. She made a mental check-up, going through what she had done yesterday. All memories where intact. Good, she hadn't done anything to be mortified of, then. Though Henri and Jake had things to be shameful about...indeed, they were the ones who had danced on the table while signing some national brawly song.
She got up, took a shower and went down to get breakfast and visit some more. On the streets, nothing had changed through the night : everything was as she remembered from yesterday. She loved it here. The city was a happy constancy.
She stopped at a stand to buy a mask, feeling like going with the crowd. She stopped before putting it on her head. God, she had changed over the past two years. Look at her, she was acting the same way as the rest of these people. HER! The antisocial gothic girl. Wasn't she supposed to look the part of her former self and stay in a bar and talk to nobody? She guess it came with her control of her powers. She didn't need to totally cover herself. She didn't need to flee people, though she still wasn't comfortable around crowds. She could TOUCH! She didn't need to be alone anymore. So why was she so alone at this particular place with so much people around her? She needed Remy. As simple has that.
"Yah're pathetic, girl." She put her black and white feather mask on.
***
He couldn't find her anywhere in the respectable part of New Orleans. In the middle of Mardi Gras celebration, the public places were crowded with all sorts of people. But Rogue wasn't here. He could have recognized her with a mask and a hood in the middle of a crowd of equally dressed people. He could sense her. And here, he didn't sense her. It frightened him.
The only place left was the French Quarter. She wouldn't have gone there, would she? He doubted the hope sorely. She was there alright. He should have followed his instincts in the first place. His love was attracted to danger.
The cute and stylish image of the Quarter was exactly that. An image, an illusion. It was also the home of the Thieves Guild and the Assassins Guild.
He walked to Bourbon street and found the Balcony, which crossed St Peter. He took a seat with a view down the street and waited, seemingly relax but in reality completely on alert, trying to recognized his love when she'd passed. He knew she would eventually come this way. Everybody did at least once each day.
It was seven in the morning. Four hours later he spotted her. Rather he sensed her because in the middle of the people, he couldn't make her out. He didn't lose one moment, he sped down the stairs to the street and made his way towards her.
***
People were so happy around her. Some were on family vacation, others were in couple or with friends and the rest were, well, drunk. She really couldn't figure out why they got drunk so early here.
She passed a couple of stores selling souvenirs, food or clothing. She also walked by a couple of already full bars and an outdoor stage where a jazz band was performing. She stopped for a couple of minutes to listen to their music...Remy's kind of music.
She continued her way after their third song, feeling blue and dreamy. Suddenly, she was yanked in an alley, surprised and panicked. She didn't have the time to react before being gently ("Gently? What the hell?") pushed on the nearest wall. She found herself face to face with a tired and sad looking Cajun, less than three inches separating their body.
Her eyes widened and her breath sharpened. She could feel his hands encircling her arms, the warmth seeping from them. Could feel his sweet breath ruffling her hair slightly and caressing her lips...and his eyes, his gorgeous red and black eyes, holding intently her gaze. His hands slid down her arms and went to her waist, holding her lightly.
"Rogue, love, let me hold you." She didn't say anything and didn't move her body either but when he stepped nearer so his body touched hers, she didn't act react passively. Her arms went around his neck of their own accord while she nestled her head on his shoulder.
They stayed immobile in each others arm for a long time indeed.
***
Bwah ha ha! I'm EVIL!!!! Major cliff-hanger considering what I'm planning for you guys...Guess who Henri and Jake are??? Bwah ha ha indeed.
Anyway, I wanted to thank my fan club who always review:
Ishandahalf: skimpy clothing and drooling planned...Hurray! (bunny on crack has been operated but instead of giving him a prosthetic leg, they cut his other foot!!! I'm beginning to worry about him...and ME with my mutilating thoughts! Poor bunny.)
Silver Ink: hope your cure is on good progress. Thanks.
Enchantedlight: Thanks, it's great to receive such positive reviews.
And I'd like to thank Sperry Dee too (would you like a membership to my fan club ; )
Do I sound like I've just received an Oscar or what?
I wanted to know that I took in consideration all your ideas of places where Rogue should leave...but well don't be mad at me for not listening to you guys (gives herself a slap on the hand)...I'm a bad writer...but don't you think it's a good idea? That way Rogue will learn about Remy's past and what kept him away from her (he DOES have a good excuse...he's Remy!)...and maybe a little Belladonna fight....I'm EVIL!
Hum, did a lot of research on the net to get the REAL New Orleans in my fic...in the middle of Mardi Gras celebration...much more action (I guess!) The part with * was taken on the net.
Last thing before you go review...you might plan on getting yourself a map of New Orleans on the net...it would be useful here, no?