Disclaimer: House of M stands for House of aManda...and now I own them all...hahahaha! Oh. What? It doesn't? I don't own them? Marvel does? What has Marvel done to deserve them? What? Created them? Oh. Sues anyone who tries to use them illegally and make money? Huh. Well, there you have it. The X-men are Marvel's and I am making no money.
If he had a knife, he'd put it right between his eyes. As it was, his spoon was looking awfully tempting, even shiny and dull and covered in gooey eggs. That was, if he had a chance to use it before the death looks Rogue was giving him did him in. He sighed, and weighed the spoon. Maybe he could just gouge his eyeball out with it. That would be painful and, god-willing, put a quick end to this catastrophe of a date.
Who knew she'd be allergic to roses?
"White lilies go for death. That go for roses too?" she said, when she had knocked them out of his hand. He hadn't helped matters, when he had first seen her, holding them out to her and dumbly saying, 'Flowers'. Nothing suave or sexy. Just 'Flowers', and drool coating the lapel of his worn leather jacket. Then he had stared, just as dumbly, at the petals on the floor as she had run back upstairs to change her gloves. Scott had smirked at him as Jean cooed over the chocolates he had given her. Scott. Smirking. At him. He had seen Jean and been all, "You look stunning." Remy expected him to say chere. But Jean had smiled. And then Rogue had trounced down the stairs, scowled at him, and threw his flowers on the ground.
It had only gotten worse from there.
Speeding ticket on the way to the Diner. Then, there reservations were messed up, and they couldn't get a table. They had ended up at Denny's, the only place that could fit them in on a Saturday night, at a booth behind a couple with screaming twins who were splattering egg all over the wall. Then, Remy had spilled the entire pitcher of orange juice on the table.
If only she hadn't been wearing a skirt.
He had never, ever, in his life been struck utterly dumb by a pair of legs. Clad in sheer stockings, they seemed endlessly long, pale white and smooth, muscles cording and bunching with each movement, elongated and accentuated by the high, black heels she wore. If only she weren't in that short, clingy black skirt that molded to her hips and thighs when she walked. Then maybe he'd be able to function like a normal, notoriously flirty, playboy. Instead he stammered and stuttered. And Scott was full of suaveness and finesse, steering the conversation until both girls were laughing.
"Then I said, 'No, I won't be leaving!'"
"No!" Jean said, snorting. Rogue looked slightly appalled as the oslder redhead snorted again, chortled, guffawed, and then broke into peals of high, loud cackles that had more than a few patrons looking their way. Rogue slid lower in the booth, her cheeks pink, even as Jean dissolved into that "I can't breath but I can't stop laughing", wheezing and gasping as tears slid from beneath her eyelashes.
Remy wanted to punch the smug look from Scott's face. He knew it was bad when it resorted to violence.
He was amazed at the amount of food Rogue could put away. She had finished her plate, and was now digging into what was left of Jean's. It was amazing that she kept in such good of shape. She munched on a piece of bacon with obvious relish. Amazing she didn't clog her arteries either. She scowled at him. "Problem?" she asked, through a mouthful of eggs.
He snatched a piece of toast from Rogue's plate. "Non."
"Hey!" she growled, "You ain't so good a thief if you get caught!" she said. He bit into her toast with an appreciative smile.
"But dat would take all de fun out of it, no?" he said. She scooped up hash browns with her spoon, and with surprising accuracy, flung them at him. He wiped them off his nose, munching happily on her toast. "Waste not, want not, chere," he said.
"Oh please! Can't you talk in anything other than cliches?"
He opened his mouth to say 'If you can't say anything nice', then closed it, opened it again, and said, "You look beautiful tonight."
She flung more hash browns at him.
It was going to be a long night.
Remy paid the bill and Scott fetched the car. Rogue stood next to Jean on the curb, shivering in the cool night air. Jean towered over her in heels, and looked absolutely exquisite. Rogue felt like a little girl playing dress up next to the slim indigo dress that fit Jean like a glove.
"Am I doing all right?" Jean whispered, once Scott was gone. She tucked a small curl that had escaped her French twist behind her ear. She looked nervous and worried.
"You are doing great. You are havin' fun, aren't you?" Rogue said. Jean's face relaxed, and she smiled a brief, if somewhat strained smile.
"Of course. It's been wonderful. I'm just so damn nervous." She ran shaky fingers across her hair. "How are you doing? Sparks flying?" Her eyes glittered as she looked at the younger girl.
"Um…no." Rogue said.
"Oh." Before Jean could elaborate more, Scott honked the horn at them, and Remy exited the building. He gallantly held the car doors for them, and then slid in the back next to Rogue. He crowded her a bit, enjoying the sweet, lemony smell that drifted up from her skin. She cleared her throat, inching closer to the door, but Remy stretched casually, draping his arm across the leather seat, stretching so that his knee grazed hers.
"Oh please," Rogue snapped. "There's plenty a' room over there," she snapped.
"But I would not want you to get lonely," Remy purred. She felt the shiver go up her arm at his dark, deeply sensuous voice. She looked out the window instead of melting into a puddle of mush in his lap.
"Where are we going?" Jean asked, anxious to break the tension that had infused the car.
"Dancing." Remy said. Scott nodded.
"I love dancing," Jean said. Rogue mocked her behind her back, curling her lip up in a sneer. She hated dancing. Half-naked bodies writhing against each other on a small, ill-lit, loud floor? Not for her, no thanks. Too much of a chance she could brush her skin against someone's. She rubbed a hand over her forehead, wishing this nightmare would end. She owed Jean big time for this fiasco. She pushed Remy's hand off her leg. His head dipped low, his breath tickling her hair over her ear. She wished she had insisted on more clothes. The emerald corset top left her cleavage and neck bare, covered by a black cotton cardigan that ended beneath her underarms and belled at the sleeves.
"D'you like dancing, chere?" he asked, his voice so low only she could hear him. Scott had launched into another one of his stories, Jean was hortling and cackling in the front seat.
"No." Rogue replied.
"Maybe dat's cause you haven't had de right partner," he said. He was just to close, his spicy cologne sending her sex hormones into hyperactive drive. His hand wondered to her knee, casually resting on the hose-clad appendage. She was horrified at her traitorous knee, as gooseflesh broke out on her leg, and her skin ached for his touch. His fingers began making small circles, sending chills up her body. She slapped at his hand with her glove, but he swiftly stroked it up her outer thigh, leaving a trail of fire where it had touched her. "Dere's plenty we could do wit'out touchin'," he said.
"Left or right?" Scott called back to them. Jean smacked his arm, hard.
"What?" Scott said, affronted, and rubbing his arm with his free hand. Jean made a noise in her throat and stared at him pointedly.
"Right," Remy said, the intimacy he had managed to create between him and Rogue broken. Jean glared at Scott, then offered a small, half-smile to Gambit.
Scott took the turn, Rogue stared out the window and refused to talk, and Jean made small conversation with Remy. They arrived at the club shortly. It was short, squat building, painted an awful shade of turquoise, with neon lights making large, colored splashes on the brick. Loud, pulsing music poured out of the brightly colored windows, and a line wrapped around the wall and spilled into the street.
"We are never going to get in," Jean said, even as Scott parked the car. She stood and wiggled to straighten her dress. "Wait a minute- can Scott and Rogue even get in?"
"Au contraire, petite, don' underestimate de power of de Cajun," Remy said, extending a hand to help Rogue out of the car. She smacked it away and strode towards Jean, arms crossed over her chest. She had officially perfected the scowl. Scott came around and offered his arm to Jean. She smiled at him and took it. Remy made the same gallant gesture to Rogue. She quirked an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, following Scott and Jean with her hips swinging.
"You are an idiot," Rogue said, sliding into the tacky, neon red vinyl seat of their booth. She rolled her eyes at Gambit as he slid in next to her, goofysmile on his face.
"How was I t'know dat Scotty looked t'young t'get in!" Remy defended himself.
"Ah thought you had charmin' powers," Rogue replied, wiggling her fingers at him, as if she herself were wielding some voodoo power. He smacked them away.
"You been immune t'dem all night, chere, I don't t'ink dey workin'." Rmey said. "Unless you suddenly find yourself impossibly, utterly attracted t'me an' want t'rip off your clothes and have your evil way wit' me?" He said, his voice almost pleading.
"Oh Ah'm havin' evil thoughts, sugar," Rogue replied. She stared around the cheesy bar with an amused look on her face.
"Why didn't you give him a telepathic nudge, Jean," Scott said. He was bummed that he was the reason they couldn't get into the club. Course, if he had had the cleavage to flash like Rogue had, they wouldn't be in this problem.
"That's a violation of a person's rights, Scott," she said.
"'Kay mother," Rogue said. "That just means you gotta go first."
"But…" Jean stuttered. Gambit smirked at her. Scott handed her the book.
Rogue quickly snatched it out of her hands. "Nuh uh sugar, we get t'pick it."
Jean rested her head in her palms. "I'm gonna mentally lobotonize you for this," she muttered. Rogue stuck her tongue out at her.
"Let's see I'm Too Sexy…."
"No!" Jean hissed.
"If You Think I'm Sexy?"
Scott shook his head. "That'd cause an uproar."
"Baby Got Back?"
"Flatter dan a pancake….um….not dat I'd know."
"Thanks," Jean said dryly.
"Just helpin', chere."
"Ah got it!" Rogue singsonged. "44."
"44?" Jean asked. "What are you trying to torture me with?"
"Oh, you're gonna love this!" Rogue said, writing the number down on the accompanying slip of paper. She waved it at their waitress, who was making her way over to them with their drinks.
"Alright, hon, I'll give this to the DJ. Give it 'bout a half an hour, Larry likes to run a little long when it's Saturday nights," the blonde said. She batted her eyes at Gambit. She bent over the table so her ample chest strained harder against the too tight top. She smiled, her shiny lips arcing into a pretty curve, batting her lashes blatantly. Rogue rolled her eyes and tried not to gag. "I haven't seen you before," she said. "I'd remember you." Her voice turned syrupy sweet.
"No, chere, I haven't been here."
"Ooo, an accent. Accent's make me hot."
Remy smiled, enjoying the brief flirtation. Even if the girl was a little brazen, she was curvy and pretty and at least responsive to his attempts. She smiled dumbly at him.
"Ah have a feelin' it don't take much to get you hot, now does it?" Rogue asked, her voice dripping saccharine as she smiled at the waitress. She grabbed her drink, draping her breasts across Remy's arm as she did so, sidling closer to him. The blonde didn't take the hint, or even notice the offense.
"Ah get off work in an hour. Maybe we could 'get off'," she eyed him suggestively and giggled at her pun. "What are you doin;?" Jean choked on her drink.
"Ah…chere…," Remy began. Rogue grabbed his face suddenly, turning it towards her and kissed him.
He felt the electricity between them to the balls of his feet. Her lips were soft yet steely, commanding his to open so she could sweep her tongue inside. It was over all too shortly, when he felt the incessant tug of her powers. Then she pulled away, smiled at the waitress, and said pleasantly, "he'll be doin' me."
The blonde sneered and stalked off. Remy sat, shell shocked to the booth, even as Rogue slid away from him.
"Um…what jus' happened?" he demanded. Scott's jaw was hanging slighlty askew as well.
"It's called a kiss, Cajun. Thought you'd figure that out by now."
"Don't drink, don't smoke, what do you do?"
"Don't drink don't smoke, what do you do?" the crowd chanted back.
"Subtle innuendos follow, must be something inside! Goody two, goody two goody goody two shoes!" Jean finished with a flourish, sweeping her hair off her neck, a huge grin plastered on her face. Rogue sat with her chin in her hand, slightly awed.
"Only Jean could make bad eighties sound good," she said, when the applause had died down and she had made her way over to the table. Jean's cheeks were red and shining.
"That was fun!" she said, sitting down and taking a long sip of her lemonade. "You should try it," she said, a grin splitting her features.
Scott laughed. Then he stopped, looked at Jean, and laughed again. "Not me. I'm as tone deaf as I am color blind…one color, one note….and it's bad."
Remy sat back and grinned, "Not too much sounds good in dis accent, petite."
The looked pointedly at Rogue, who was making swirls on the table with the soda from her straw. She looked up. "What? Oh Hell no," she said. "Ah don't do karaoke. 'Sides they might not like Rob Zombie here. Ah have a feelin' Ah'd be lynched and mobbed." She looked around at the pretty blondes and their Abercrombie boyfriends with a big of a shudder.
"Party poopers," Jean said, turning to clap as another person took the stage. She turned back to the group. "So…I took the liberty of signing you up!"
"What?" Scott demanded.
"Not you," Jean said, resting a hand on his arm. "Them."
"Me?" Remy said.
"What?" Remy had to grab Rogue as she lept over the table. Jean was just laughing.
"You did it to me!"
Rogue sputtered indignitly. She blinked owlishly at the older woman, then turned to Remy and poked him in the chest.
"You did this!"
"What? I am a victim too chere!" He brought his hands up to defend himself against her poking.
"Ha!" Rogue said, poking him again. He glared at her. "You planned this!" She shouted.
"Next up….Rogue and Gambit!" The crowd began to clap and cheer. Rogue looked around for an escape.
"No way!" She hissed. "Ah am not getting up there!"
"Yes you are," Jean said. She tapped her forehead. "You can do this the easy way…or I can make you."
"That's cheatin'!" Rogue said, even as Remy's hand clamped on her wrist and began to drag her from the booth. "Ah'll kill ya!" she growled, but allowed herself to be led to the stage. The DJ looked happy. She wanted to take his microphone and jam it so far up his a-.
"Chere."
"What?"
"Look at me."
"Why?"
"Cause I don't want you killin' anybody."
"So you'd rather Ah kill you?" She asked. He hadn't let go of her hand. But they were on stage and she didn't want to make a scene. Or so she told herself. "Ah ain't singin' Celine Dion," Rogue added. The DJ handed them microphones.
He quirked a grin at her as the music started. Then his eyes widened and he shot a look at Jean.
"What is it?" Rogue demanded, turning to look at the screen. "Oh mah Gawd!" she shrieked. "Ah ain't singin' this!" The words started. The DJ stopped the music.
"I think they need a little encouragement folks!" he cried. Jean whistled loudly and began chanting their names.
"She doesn't know she's a corpse," Rogue said. Remy began to sing.
"Hey Lousiana woman!"
"Not you too!" Rogue cried as Gambit nudged her.
"This is embarrasin'. Mississippi man." She said into the microphone.
"We get t'get'er every time we can. De Mississippi River can't keep us apart. Dere's t'much love in dis Mississippi heart!" Remy crooned.
"Too much love in Louisiana heart," Rogue sang, monotone. Remy frowned at her.
"See de alligator, all a'waitin' nearby. Sooner or later dey know I'm gonna try," Remy sang, breaking away from her and playing up to the crowd. He shook his slender hips, encased in tight, faded blue jeans, and quite a few girls shrieked. "When she waves from de bank don't you know I know, It's a'goodby fishin' line, see you while ago!" He turned back to her, and took her hand, keeping it outstretched while he shimmied around her. "Wit' a Louisiana woman wiatin' on de ot'er side, de Mississippi River don't look so wide," he cupped her chin with a grin. "Lousiana woman…"
She rolled her eyes. "Missippi man."
"We get t'get'er," she had to laugh at the pitiful look on his face, as he used her arm to twirl himself. She joined in, "we get togethah every time we can…," she smiled evily and mocked him, "de Mississippi River cain't keep us apart."
"Dere's too much love in dis Mississippi heart," Remy sang, slightly off key. Rogue couldn't keep the grin off her face.
"Too much love in this Louisiana heart." Remy stood next to her, encouraging her to sing louder and the crowd to clap. "Well, Ah thought Ah'd been loved, but Ah never had, till Ah was wrapped in th'arms of a Mississippi man." Remy twirled her and she lost her balance, he caught her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She laughed and added more emotion in her voice. She wouldn't admit it, but she was beginning to have fun. "When he holds me close, it feels almost, lahk another hurrican just ripped the coast." He released her, twirling her out and holding onto her hand. "If he cain't come ta me, I'm a gonna go to him, the Mississippi River, Lawd, Ah'm gonna swim."
"Hey Louisiana woman!" Remy shouted.
"Mississippi man!" she shouted back, grinning at him.
"We get toget'ah every time we can, D'Mississippi river cain't keep us apart," Their voices, and accents, mixed with a rather surprising result, a soft, sultry sound.
"Dere's too much love in dis Mississippi heart."
"Too much love in this Louisiana heart."
"Well dat Mississippi River, Lord, it's one mile wide, And I'm a gonna get me t'de ot'er side," Remy imitated swimming, with a little theatrical gyrations.
"Mississippi man Ah'm a losin' mah mind, Gotta have yoah lovin', one more time," Rogue crooned to him, curving her finger and motioning him closer with a quirk of her eyebrows and a sexy smile on her lips.
"I'm gonna jump in de river, here I go," Remy jumped off the stage into the crowd. "Too bad alligator," he sang as a girl tried to pinch his butt. He ran through the crowd and jumped on the stage from the other side. "you swim t'slow! Hey Lousiana woman," he sang, his voice husky as he stared down at her with his demon eyes.
"Mississippi man."
"We get t'getha every time we can. De Mississippi river cain't keep us apart."
"There's too much love in this Mississippi heart." Rogue sang, cutting him off. Remy grinned at her and finished her line. "Too much love in dis Louisiana heart." He grabbed her hip and pulled her against him.
"There's too much love in this Mississippi heart."
"Too much love in dis Louisiana heart."
"Jean Ah'm gonna kill you," Rogue sang, grinning at her friend.
"Chere ain't from Louisiana," Remy sang back. The crowd laughed. "Too much love for dis mud pie," he shouted, closing his eyes as if he were putting all his emotion into the line, falling to his knees. Rogue rolled her eyes.
"Too much love for this swamp rat," Rogue retorted, pulling him up.
"Gonna dump her body in de Mississippi river!" Remy added, smiling at the crowd. They laughed. Rogue had to smile too, and found herself far to fond feeling for this Cajun and his voodoo eyes.
Yay! Update! Sorry its been so long guys! Goody Two Shoes is an Adam Ant song. Louisiana woman, Mississippi Man is by Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty. I thought it went perfectly with Rogue and Gambit...except she's from Mississippi and he's from Louisiana, and that's what led to that fiasco at the end! Hope you enjoyed it! More crazy fun date next...
Wen1: Glad you understood it better...let me know if you have any questions!
Fudgebrowne: More Romy and sex coming up...but first we must deal with those pesky powers!
Ishandahalf: Yay! Gold stars! Glad you find it so funny, it's so much fun to write!
Pixie: Glad you're happy about the sequel...I tried to see if I could get it in the C2 but I think it has to be rated PG-13, I rate mine R because of all the sexual moments I have in it...although it might not be :), thanks for the support though!
Jessica: No more wait!
Ingrid: I love the Jott too! Here ya go!
Off I go to write another chappie...I have some more evil and dastardly things to do to these two couples before I get them together...although Scott and Jean seem awfully cozy...hmm...