New Author's Notes: No big differences here. Read on.
Wowsers, its been forever, hasn't it. But here we are. Another update. Yay! Sorry about the long delays between chapters. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing; please see post-chapter notes for individual replies. Thanks again!
We've Met Before
Chapter 3
Events were easy to manipulate. Putting people in the right places at the right times, Gambit could do that in his sleep. Just make a suggestion, whisper in someone's ear, make up a false message from Magneto and give it to the Brotherhood...
Like stealing candy from a baby -no, easier than that, because taking a child's lollypop would have caused him considerable guilt. This, he didn't even think twice about. It was simple. He whistled to himself as he rode down the street in a motorcycle borrowed from an aging member of Hell's Angels.
Itchy gloves were hell to wear. The scratchy fabric poked Rogue's arms like a thousand tiny needles, running from fingertip to elbow, irritating her to no end. She would have liked to yank the offending apparel off, light a match, and watch them disintegrate into ash with wicked delight, though simply removing them would have sufficed. Unfortunately, she was crammed tightly in a green SUV with the newest recruits to the X-mansion and something told her the professor wouldn't be happy if one of them had to be carried out of the vehicle on a stretcher.
Although...if that Danvers girl kept staring at her like that, she might throw caution to the wind and take the her chances. Carol, that was her first name, an annoying, tall blonde, a regular Barbie doll in high heel boots and chiffon skirts. Her parents had been reluctant to send her to the school, and frankly, Rogue had been reluctant to pick her up, but the professor felt they could benefit from her presence, and visa versa.
Go figure old bald guys.
She watched Rogue like a butterfly must watch a moth, recognizing the similarities, thankful for the differences. Bored already, Rogue wanted to ask. We've only been in the car a few minutes. Sure you wouldn't rather stay at home? Spare me the headache of tolerating your arrogance?
She suspected that the greatest challenge they'd have with Danvers was climbing over that mountain-sized ego. So what if her powers afforded her great strength and something about invulnerability and flight. All blah-blah-blahs to Rogue's weary ear.
Needless to say, the introverted Goth didn't like playing advocate for the team, despite her loyalty to them. Why did Xavier decide to take his oldest students, Jean Grey and Scott Summers, who were like walking geysers, spewing compliments about the school constantly, on a special vacation, leaving her to do the dirty work of gathering and introducing newbies to the wonderful world of mutantdom.
"Hey, Mr. McCoy, can we go a lil' faster?" She sunk deeper into her seat and met the icy glare of Carol Danvers again.
Mom, she'd said, I can come back on weekends, right? I don't have to stay there with them. The newcomer blew a speck of dust from her nails. "So like, when is Xavier coming back? There are other members, aren't there?"
A younger girl with light green hair and a toothy grin, beamed with pleasure and joy. "I can't wait to see the mansion. A real, live mansion. This is incredible. Going to school with all mutants, like me. Super cool. Oh, I'm Lorna, by the way."
"Yeah." Carol said, uninterested. "That's nice."
To Lorna's right, another girl sat, nineteen-year-old Betsy, a transfer from England. She was to serve as a teacher while Xavier helped her reign in her physic abilities. Another telepath, like Jean, but also a ninja. According to Xavier, Betsy was a friend of millionaire Warren Worthington III.
Betsy was relatively small, with lots of lavender hair suspended back in a severe ponytail that left only a brush of bangs to decorate her round face. She'd been quiet so far, probably reading people's minds, Rogue thought.
As if in response, a tiny smile graced Betsy's lips.
Outside, evening was rapidly approaching. The sky had turned into a caramel colored impressionist painting, with a smeared orange-ish sphere in place of a setting sun and the faintest hint of purple in the clouds. It had been a long, tedious day for Rogue, making speeches, relaying rather personal experiences to people she didn't know. All she wanted -no, needed- was a break.
So, of course, the mansion gates came as some relief. As freedom got closer, became nearly tangible, the painful, caged feeling grew more intense. If she could just get away...away from Carol, and Lorna's naivety, and Betsy's lack of respect for a person thoughts.
The van halted and Rogue was the first one out. She motioned for every girl to pick up her bag and enter the lovely home of the x-men. After giving them the brief tour of the living room and kitchen, she said that Beast could answer any important, urgent questions and that she'd see them in an hour or so to settle them in further. She had some things to take care of.
Like staying sane.
1/2 Hour later...
The human soldier was hunkered down near the cold floor, listening, waiting. His foe stood on the other side of that brick wall. He was young, the soldier boy, twenty-two or so, a new fighter, but a good one. No one in his division was better with the machinery or could rival his aim with the gun. A heavy, loose helmet bounced on his head when he moved, so he didn't move often.
Just waited. The gun, a high-powered Mark IV fast-burner, newest thing off of the tables, weighed down his arms and right shoulder, though the limbs didn't show the strain. The second that person managed to tear down the wall, he'd be there, finishing the job for all his fallen comrades.
Then, suddenly, the bricks wobbled. Dust began flying ever where, so he slammed down the plastic face guard. His hands were steady; steady...a whole chunk of the wall fell forward, landing a foot away. The soldier maintained his position. He'd been taught well.
Steady. Midnight blue eyes narrowed, breath came in a consistent pattern. Calm. Be wary, act fast, that was the unofficial motto in dealing with such unstoppable, dangerous foes as these mutants. Be ready...for anything.
The rest of the wall came down, like a river tumbling free of its damn. For a second, he was blinded. And then, she was there. Young. Female. Weaponless. Surely, this girl couldn't be the foe. Where was the real enemy? Was she bait? A human shield? She was not the hard-core villain he'd been trained against. As she approached him, the soldier boy's concentration faltered.
Her pretty face was clenched in a tight expression, her mouth a thin, grim line of burgundy. Dark lashes provided her eyes only protection. She wasn't wear any gear! They always said, youth would be his downfall, too easily conned by an attractive face. But what if she needed his aid? She looked so frail!
He allowed her to near him, went so far as to accept her pale, extended hand in his own. The smoothness of her skin surprised him, and then his sight blurred, the world tilted on its back, and darkness overcame him.
The soldier boy collapsed to the floor, holding his gun like a teddy bear.
Rogue blinked, processing the visuals in her mind. The soldier, his girlfriend from home, a tiny thing with raven hair. A party, for his first birthday, a circle of kids surrounded a two layer strawberry cake. Fluorescent lights for the school dance he was organizing. Training in the army, a sergeant yelling obscenities in his ear. Confidence. Curiosity. Shock.
She swayed for a second, gulping down the memories of her latest touch. It was a new feature in the Danger Room, programmed just for her, thoughts and emotions of all the artificial people. Professor Xavier had hoped it would allow Rogue to get used to absorbing others minds, and increase her recovery time. In battle, every second counted.
"Level Six Complete. Proceeding to Level Seven." She looked around, as though searching for the voice's origin, though she knew it was based in invisible speakers.
Her stance altered itself. There would be no sympathetic humans in this stage. No humans at all, for that matter. Darkness bathed her, like the blackest night, and then the Danger Room reawakened and was alight with firing guns and all sorts of dangers. Jumping to the center platform of the scenario, Rogue let her body take the lead in fighting off the simulated attacks.
Stop. Step. Lean. Stretch. Jump. Rogue knew the program, this level, and what it required of her by heart; it was her favorite exercise, an easy way to release the day's tensions. In old, worn jeans and a tank top, she dodged the flying discs and catapulted over the fences. Her hair whipped against her face, sweat left a thin coating, as she continued in the self-defense course.
The problem with her powers, Rogue thought, was that they only worked if she could touch the enemy, like the soldier boy. If the villain was more than an arm's length away, she was out of luck. Too bad, so sad, that's life. Thusly, to be a valuable member of the X-men, she would have to be able to fight, without powers. It wasn't impossible to do serious damage with bare hands; Mystique had proven that.
But achieving the shape-shifter's skill would take work, and that was another reason why she spent free time in the program. A spinning robot, with revolving guns for arms, came after her and she carefully planned her attack on it, grasping a rope on the ceiling and hauling herself up to its head, where the guns were both most lethal and most vulnerable. She reached her hand inside and began tearing wires from their base. The machine sagged forward and Rogue slid off, satisfied.
Jump. Dodge. Slide. Stop. Wait.
"So this is the Danger Room? I hope that this program isn't the best you've got." She'd been so focused on the level that she hadn't heard the intrusion. Now that the trespasser had spoken, however, Rogue spun around, angry at the distraction.
Carol, again, contempt scribbled on her face. At first, Rogue wondered if she could attack the girl and feign confusion, claiming she'd believed Danvers was a part of the simulation. But that darn responsibility of being the first X-men, save the adult McCoy, that the newbies met weighed down on her shoulders. Another robot came out of nowhere, aiming for the blonde.
"Watch out," Rogue warned, "Ah took the safeties off." Anything else would leave room for weakness.
The blonde wasn't phased. Ignoring the red beam that shot out to her face, she continued to observe the setting casually. "That Dr. McCoy guy said you were in here...he said you'd know where our rooms were..."
"Ah do. That beam always comes before the laser, so Ah'd suggest ya duck o' somethin'."
Carol rolled her eyes. "Can you give us directions? We'd like to get set up."
"Ah told y'all that Ah'd pass out keys afta' Ah was done here."
"And we're what? Just supposed to wait around for you to finish playing some oversized video game?"
The robot hummed, switching to its high-powered weapon. Rogue opened her mouth to pause the simulation, but found herself too late.
It blast forward, crashing straight into Carol. Rogue winced, praying it hadn't hurt her too bad.
Her hand hovered over the x-communicator, ready to call Beast to the room. However, neither the fear, nor the action, was necessary, because the blonde mutant held her ground against the attack.
Deflecting it with her hand, she lifted herself off the ground and dove for the machine, making a neat hole in its center, where frazzled wires continued to spark long after the robot itself was rendered useless.
Danvers landed several spaces away, running her hands through her hair. Oh right, Rogue thought, invulnerability. "So when will you be finished with this game? Anytime soon, or would we be better off wandering around until we came upon some uninhabited quarters?"
Rogue glared. "Ah'll be down when Ah'm finished. Y'all can wander if ya'd like, but Ah can't guarantee ya won't accidentally stumble into somethin' ya shouldn't be messin with. Ah hear Jamie's cultivatin' microscopic worms in his room for a science project."
"Great," Carol muttered, giving up and heading for the doors. "I'm in a house with freaks and geeks. Does this get any better?" She pushed a wall over, just before vanishing, and all the walls beside it fell like dominos, crushing robots that had been advancing, during Rogue's distraction.
She heard the electronic voice again. "Level seven complete. Proceeding to Level Eight."
Great, Rogue thought. Just great.
She had several moments of peace, or relative peace, considering the blasts and spinning swords and poison darts that demanded constant evasion. She listened to the instincts in her head, focusing on stretching her legs farther while she ran, on kicking harder, on adding sting to her punches and tuning out the screeching voice of protesting muscles.
But several moments was all she had, because the Danger Room doors were again opened. This time, it was Hank McCoy who came inside, artfully dodging the spike-adorned discs with an agile jump and spin. "End simulation." He said loudly. Abruptly, the images faded, only the cold, steely interior remaining.
Rogue collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, flushed from the exertion. "Yes Mr. McCoy?"
"You're needed. There's a robbery in progress at the Bayville City Bank. The Brotherhood is involved."
"Why would the Brotherhood wanna rob a bank?" Rogue mused aloud, staring at the computer screen in wonder. "It ain't like Magneto's destitute."
"Perhaps its the attention he seeks. Tensions are running high between mutants and non-mutants right now. A television filled with benevolent monsters would almost definitely lead to aggressions."
"So he's speedin' up the battle 'tween us an' them. Shovin' more on their plate than they can handle. That means we've got ta stop the idiots 'fore they make themselves known."
"Indeed."
The Bayville bank was a relic of a building, one of few original places left standing after the 1932 earthquake that tore up the rest of the city, and half of New York. It had become a symbol of strength, of resilience and hope for Bayville. Magneto couldn't have chosen a better spot to tear down, if indeed that was his aim.
But Rogue was going to stop it, even if her only teammates were a few girls that had merely touched the surface of their powers. At least, Beast would be advising them, via communicator, helping them track down the slippery bad guys from the van computer.
Betsy stretched her legs out, clad in some kind of rather revealing, clingy ninja-wear, having turned down the comfortable suits the x-men typically wore. Her eyes shut in apparent concentration, and she held herself with confidence. Carol, well, it would take a lot to damage Carol anyway; the worry with her was whether or not she would damage the building they needed to protect. Lorna...Lorna was the young one, the least able but most willing to try. She fidgeted in the outfit, and Rogue wondered if it was her body that felt closed in, or the boundless exuberance of her spirit.
They could so do this. So what if they were new. So what if they had been reading Vogue magazine and toying with the fringed carpet when Rogue stormed inside and informed them that they would be getting their first lesson, first hand.
"Rogue?"
So what if this was Rogue's first attempt at leading a team in general.
"Rogue? Are you listening?"
She turned halfway, catching Beast's eye. "We're here."
"Oh. Oh good. Uh, let's get the girls out."
"We are." Carol said from outside, rolling her eyes. "You're the one spacing out."
"Ah was workin' on a plan, Danvers." She jumped out, letting a gush of breath escape her partially opened lips. "Okay. So, Ah briefed y'all on the team. Remember ta stick togetha', an' don't muss up the bank itself. That's probably what they want."
The Brotherhood boys were playing football with a vase, leaving droplets of water on the gray tiles. It was everyone against Pietro, who zipped back and forth with ease, throwing, catching, and even rushing to the other side of the haphazardly marked field.
"Man, I can't believe Magneto has us here tonight. It was Sleepover Night on the Pamela Anderson show." Toad said, with a pout.
"I can't believe he made that stupid Cajun his errand boy again. I thought I was the one in charge." Pietro answered, himself a little frustrated at not being 'in the know' with his own father.
"Why don't you guys just, like shut up already. I'm getting sick of hearing you guys whine." Avalanche complained.
"Wine? Who's got wine? Gimme some of that."
"Shut up!"
"Why am I stuck here with you losers anyway?"
Blob, who'd remained relatively quiet, tapped Avalanche's shoulder. "Hey, is it just me, or is there a really hot ninja girl standing in the doorway."
Lance followed his gaze. "Woah. There is. Hey, you guys, who's that?"
Pietro raised an eyebrow. "I don't know."
"Maybe we should talk to her."
"Maybe she wants to join the Brotherhood."
"Hey, she's coming towards us. Let me handle this."
"No me!"
"Me!"
As things happened, it was Lance who first encountered the foreign-looking beauty. He grinned, foolishly unprepared for painful, rather embarrassed kick to the chest, which she delivered without a second thought.
"Um...I'm guessing, she's not here to join the Brotherhood." Toad said, backing up. Unfortunately, he backed right into another girl, equally as attractive, and as dangerous, with a backhand slap that send him flying to the nearest wall. "Ouch."
"They're X-men, you idiots! Look at the uniform!" Pietro cried. "Come on, we can handle this second string x-dork team."
Hanging back, Rogue found herself in mild amazement of their abilities. True to the words of a gushing millionaire, Betsy was a superb ninja. Carol hadn't ruined too much yet, and Lorna wasn't doing to bad. She almost wasn't even needed.
Almost.
The communicator on her wrist bleeped. A message from Beast. "Rogue, I'm picking up signs of another mutant, in room adjacent to your own."
"Can Ah leave the girls alone?"
"They appear to be handling themselves."
She shrugged. "Whateva' ya say, Mr. McCoy. Just tell meh where."
"Leave through the side door. Quietly, try to not disturb the girls. They may experience a lapse of confidence if they realize your departure. Follow the hall until you reach the next door, yes that's it. Open the door. He's in the corner, behind a large object."
Rogue narrowed her eyes as she came upon the entrance and glanced around inside. "Its a filin' cabinet."
"Be wary."
"Yes'ir."
"Now re...an...ook...ul..."
Rogue tapped her communicator. "Mr.McCoy?" The device grumbled again, a mess of static and partially spoken words. "Mr. McCoy?" She repeated.
"Don't think he can get good reception in here. T'ink da lead in de walls prevents it."
In the shadows, there was a movement, but difficult to detect. Rogue felt her pulse quicken. The figure emerged, at first reminding her of the old Dracula movies, a piercing expression, long black cape, a standing collar, only the white of glistening teeth catching the fragments of light. But then he parted with the shadowed wall, bowing for her, and all color returned to him, the rich auburn hair, sun-kissed golden skin, brown trench coat, and magenta hues in his clothing.
"'Allo, Chere."
As Rogue found herself, again, face to face with the specter from her mind, the stranger of her past, it was like two worlds coming together, the haunting auras and unmistakable, real flesh merging to a single picture that gave her pause. Why hadn't this happened before, during the fight? Then, it had seemed easy to separate the past and present, to shuffle him off to the dustier parts of her mind, locking the strange, emotional phenomena he caused away. She had allowed herself a brief hope, nothing more. But now? Now she wanted answers, too.
"Gambit."
The Cajun nodded, barely. "Rogue. I hear everyone call you dat these days. Don't tell me y' still lookin' for dat place t' fit in."
"Naw, Ah think Ah've found my niche." Something clattered, behind them; outside the room, someone cried out. The newbies were in trouble. Or maybe not. They'd surprised her with their abilities. Especially Betsy. Her mind, however, didn't dwell on the team for long. She focused again on Gambit.
"Been a long time."
"Has it? Ah can't recall it all that well."
"Dat's a lie." She looked at him in surprise. He certainly thought highly of himself and his kiss.
"Ya think?"
"I know." Again, the sound of fighting. This time someone was thrown against the wall, an indentation marring the woodwork. Not good, for it would be difficult to hide. Gambit frowned. "Can we go somewhere else? I'd like t' talk wit' you," He said politely, as though they were in some social gathering and not on opposing sides of a bank robbery.
"No."
"Please?"
"What do ya want, Gambit?"
"Call me Remy, Chere."
"Why are ya robbin' the bank, Gambit." He sighed a sigh she knew well. The sigh of frustration, as though he were trying to break down a cement tower with a bouncy ball; it just kept coming back to hit him in the face. He sighed, the same sigh Kitty used when Rogue wouldn't join her preppy study group. The sigh, the same exasperated exhale that Professor Xavier used when he tried to seek out the twisted, confused, broken part of her mind that refused to control the powers and wound up returning to the physical realm empty-handed.
"Chere, it not be easy t' meet you like dis. We are in a unique position t' talk wit'out either o' our friends knowin'. I can't very well step up to you while Magneto's watchin' an' ask fo' yo' number, can I." It wasn't a question.
Rogue was bewitched, and knew it. She could feel his pull over her, the way she wanted to weaken under his gaze. But she stiffened, narrowed her eyes, and overcompensated for the lax response in her mind and heart with the by turning her body rigid.
The X-men needed her to be strong. "Don't call me Chere, Cher. An' get the hell outta mah way."
Gambit blocked her path, tilted his head until he was sure she was watching him intently, closely, ready for his next move. He grinned, wider than before, and the ring of fire flashed within his eyes, a perfect sphere. Amazing. Captivating. Enthralling. Rogue stopped trying to get away, though she wasn't sure why.
"I'm sayin' please again, Chere. Please come wit' me, an' please o' please, call me Remy. I've waited t'ree years to hear it slide off yo' mouth. The Southerner in me loves the way y' accent it."
Gambit, she thought. Don't call him anything but Gambit. It'll just open the floodgates and you won't be able to slam them shut.
"Remy." She said, anyway.
As though that single uttering were an invitation, he seized her hand. "I knew, Chere, dat you'd remember. Tol' m'self, Remy LeBeau, findin' dis girl has t' be a sign o' fate."
"What do ya want from me?" Her voice wanted to grow gruff and harsh, demanding information as Logan would, or jagged, sharp, stinging like Mystique's viper tongue. But somehow, she couldn't let it. Instead, it became lighter and weaker, like a cookie crumbling in his grasp.
He dipped his head and kissed her glove-clad palm. "T' see you, Rogue. I wanted t' say somet'in' last time but-"
Disbelief aided her resistance to his charm, somewhat, for half a millisecond. "But you were too busy tryin' ta kill me and mine?"
There was a vague shrug in his sigh. He released her limp limb. "First impressions important, non? Y' already know me, but de rest o' de X-men needed t' know dat I'm serious. Can' have respect in m' own team when de enemy's laughin' in my face." The ring of fire flashed in his eyes, entrancingly. "Tell me y' understand, Chere. Won't y' please?"
No, no, no, shouted someone inside of her. He has to give a better explanation that that; he's being evasive, avoiding the point. He had tried to hurt her then -but now she was supposed to believe that he just wanted a conversation? No! But her mouth moved all by itself, whispering a low, "Yes. Ah understand."
"Knew you would. Y' wanna come closer, non? After all, we be old acquaintances." Burning eyes, beautiful, lured her like a moth to flames. She nodded, her head taking the lead, her legs following immediately after with several steps.
"Not like we've neva' met." She said, looking up at him, feeling the thumping in her chest, and only distantly recognizing it as her own heart. Things were getting so hazy, like a mist had begun forming around them two. Rogue couldn't break the steady gaze he shared with her.
The walls of fire reached out, encircling her, engulfing her, blocking every path, will, and thought beyond that which he suggested. In her entire body, pouring into her capillaries instead of blood and air, diffusing though the cells, flying through nerves, there was only the need for Remy.
To remember him, to feel him, to hold him again, to touch him. To lose herself in him. To surrender.
"Y' don't need dat communicator. You'll be safe wit' me." He unlocked it from her wrist and left it on a desk. Then Gambit took hold of her shoulders, testing the tension in them and easing away the worst. "Come on, Chere. Let's go talk. Somewhere else," he added, casting a glance at the doors that Rogue had entered through.
"Anythin' ya say, Remy."
"Dat's a good girl." His hands traveled down, slowly, landing at her waist as he led her to a window. "Just climb out an' I'll go right after." Physical contact broke, and Rogue pulled herself up, bending her figure through the narrow space available. Her legs went first, but just before she could finish the movement, the ground rumbled with Avalanche's signature attack. She ended up falling out, much less gracefully than intended, her head connecting brutally with the wall.
She cursed aloud, shaking her head, then frowned. The misty haze vanished; the world was clear before her, free of dream-like movements. Above her head, she heard Remy, saw the Cajun draw himself out quickly, landing neatly beside her. He muttered something in French, a stinging remark about Lance's intelligence, while brushing the bottom of his trench coat.
His eyes. She remembered the way he'd looked at her, the flash of fire. The subsequent loss of control.
"You okay? C'mon Chere, dis way..." He let the words trail off; because he noticed the defiant, mad glare she gave him.
His eyes.
Burning red.
Red.
"Chere?"
"Ya jerk," she said, realizing that he had caused her dreamy state. He'd been manipulating her. Those eyes of eyes, red and fiery, hypnotizing her. "The file said nothin' 'bout telepathy."
"Not a telepath," he answered easily. "Just a trick o' the trade."
The gloves, quite literally, came off. Rogue dropped them to her side, thinking of how quickly he'd fooled her. Why her? Had he sold himself to Magneto, using their past, promising to deliver the head of an x-men in exchange for...for what? Money? Shelter? To pay a debt, perhaps. All it would take to find the answer was one touch.
Whatever his motivation or pay, she would have none of it. She wouldn't be his pawn, his mouse on a string. Anger flashed in her emerald eyes. "Ya crossed paths with the wrong x-girl, Gambit. The others, they're all eitha' too nice o' too weak ta seriously hurt ya. But me, Ah'm like a black widow. Ah can drain the life from ya in a minute and Ah won't hesitate ta do it."
"Remy didn't come here t' fight wit' you."
"No, ya came here ta lead me on, non? Ta take advantage o' our brief history together, an' play those jedi mind tricks on me. What if information were ya lookin' for? The codes ta the security system? The latest technology? Our Achilles heel?" She advanced on him, palm up, ready to snatch his head between them and take what she needed. She wouldn't really kill him, that was a given, but maybe put him to sleep for an hour or two.
"Rogue, I..." Her skin, the color of moonlight, came ever closer as she extended her arm, placing a hand on either side of him. "I didn't plan on hurtin' you. "
"Says you. Unfortunately, you're not someone Ah can trust. We'll have ta do this the hard way, won't we." She moved to touch his face, but he dodged it.
"Chere....I'm sorry I charmed you. We all got our weaknesses, non? I saw yo' reluctance, remembered m' talents, an' figured it was de fastest, easiest way t' get t'ings done. 'Course, it turned out t' be a horrible mistake. Should let y' decide on your own."
"Yeah, ya should've." Rogue rushed him, tried to contact some part of his flesh. But he was still faster. Damn it. Caught her wrists and spread them apart, like he was going to lead her in a dance again. Dipping her back, pleaded with his eyes. Pleaded, but didn't force forgiveness into her heart.
"Gimme a chance. Y' want answers? Ask da questions."
"Why are ya robbing bank? Is Magneto tryin' ta perpetuate the tensions between us an' normal folks?"
"Non, we not really here t' rob anyt'in'. Magneto don't even know 'bout. I mean, I'm sure he knows now, but he didn't arrange dis. I did. I set it up, so I could see you again."
"Ya did this? For me?"
"Oui."
"Y'all expect me ta believe that? Its right up there with flowers an' candy, right? Bought ya a dozen roses, took ya ta see a movie, arranged a bank heist. Yeah, that makes sense."
"Would y' rather see a movie?"
"No, Ah think Ah'd ratha' drain the information outta ya."
He shook his head, sadly. "Sorry, Chere, never let a girl steal m' powers and memories 'til at least the t'ird date. But Roguey, c'mon. I not be such a bad guy. An' you know dis interest in you, it happened a long time 'fore Magneto o' de X-men came along."
"Ah-" She was interrupted by a shout, a long, desperate, "Gambit!" that reached out to them from inside the building.
"Gambit, dude, are you still here? Maybe he bailed. Would you blame him? Gambit! Gambit, uh, we're kinda in a spot here..."
The Cajun groaned. "Y' t'ink de be able t' hold off a set o' new recruits fo' longer dan five minutes, non? Look, I gotta go, Chere. But think about it, please? I don't know how t'ings have been fo' you, but I've never forgotten our meetin'. I t'ink I felt somet'in' dat day, I dunno if it was real sparks, o' relief dat I finally had a reason t' get rid o' Bella, o' mebbe m' powers were actin' up. But I would love a chance t' find out." He smiled at her and bowed politely. "Make y' decision an' tell me when we meet again. I promise, next time I arrange somet'in' like dis, it not involve city monuments o' de kids. It be a quiet tête-á-tête. I hope y' plan on comin'."
He handed her something and then ran to find his own group. Rogue stared at the object. The Queen of Hearts. Her fingers brushed against it, hesitantly, and then it her fist closed, bending, twisting the majestic woman that decorated the thin plastic finish. How easily the Mona Lisa smile was marred, the beauty and magic of her delicate features destroyed.
He'd sounded almost...sincere, in that last moment. But she wasn't falling into to that trap. Another trick of the trade, probably.
In fact, she could practically forget everything he'd said and resume her oath to not think or feel for him until they were no longer on conflicting sides. It wouldn't be that hard. He was just a guy.
If...
If what, Rogue?
If it wasn't for those eyes. Even when they weren't hypnotizing her, they were powerful, speaking like no words could. Conveying his thoughts better than any French-English language would allow. And it was they that pushed her into considering that he might have meant it.
A veil of white hair that landed in front of her face, half obstructing the view of the queen. Again she thought, how easily she could ignore everything he'd just told her. Pretend that nothing had happened. She'd gone head to head with the Cajun, she would tell them, but he got away. That much was truth. But what of his offer?
How much of that was truth?
Could she bear to admit that the same thoughts were circulating in her mind, the same hope teasing her. All along, she told herself the logical things, keeping her feet on the floor. This was no fairy tale; it was real life. Love at first sight didn't exist. The Cajun had made for a fascinating dream lover, a wonderful goal, always out of reach, never a possibility. But really? It was silly to think a few moments had touched him as well. Of course he didn't feel the same way. It hadn't been his only kiss.
But what if something different, unique, special, had, indeed, passed between them. What if this was their chance. What if...was it worth the risk? He'd been so adamant about his interest in striking up a friendship.
Headlights descended on her, a honking horn invading her thoughts. Lorna half-climbed from the van, the brilliant glow of victory pasted on her face. She waved to Rogue, happily. "We did it! Somebody called them off! They gave up! Can you believe it? We're so totally on our way to becoming real X-men."
Rogue smiled back, stuffing the strangled card into her boot, promising to work it all out later. "Congratulations."
A dark, masked man hovered ominously outside the Acolyte home, his arms tight across his chest. As Gambit neared him, the man raised his chin, tilted his head, and touched the floor with his metal boots. "Home at last, Mr. LeBeau? I was beginning to think we'd have to send a search party after you."
Remy smiled, charmingly. "I t'ought y' picked us 'cause we be old enough t' care f' ourselves. But, if you'd like, I check in 'fore an' after I leave dis house."
"Don't toy with me, boy." Magneto leaned closer, intimidating. "I'm not here to play games."
"Damn it, and I t'ought it was Pictionary night." Remy's insolence earned him a slap across the face, extremely painful because of the metal lining of the glove.
"Unfortunately, it is late and I have a meeting soon. But I will see you tomorrow, Mr. LeBeau. You will receive your punishment then, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"I suggest you make the most of your comfortable conditions tonight. It is uncertain how many will be left to you after our chat. Good night."
"Look who's back. The boy who would be dead." John called, as though he were announcing Remy before a royal court. "So, Mate, did Magneto hand it to you? Is he putting me in charge instead?"
Piotr snorted. "Like that's going to happen." He turned his attention to Gambit. "Magneto came asking questions. He told us what you did. What were you thinking?"
"I know what. It was that Sheila, right? With skin so fair, dusted with moonbeams, the light in her hair, the music of two hearts following the same drum. She looked at you, her heart racing, eager to indulge herself in exquisite temptation. Take me, take me now!" John cried, mockingly, until Piotr, who was anything but laughing, knocked him from the couch.
"I thought you were through with that girl."
Remy pushed his way past them, landing on the couch. He took up the remote and clicked the television on. "I am. I dunno what de matchstick is talkin' 'bout. Someone must've set me up."
"Not likely. Pietro said you lured her away from the gang. The two o' you spent time alone. You know, he's got a mad crush on the girl, watches her like a hawk. Did you think he wouldn't see that?"
Idiot Pietro. Someone needed to shove a shovel down that boy's throat and shut him up. Lusting after Rogue, was he? It would almost be worth it to make him tell her, just to watch the rejection. Then again, he'd better focus on turning his own luck with the belle around. As for the boys, Remy didn't them breathing down his neck, accusing whenever he stepped out. "All right, mes amis, I'll share m' secret plans wit' you. If it means," he added, "dat y' leave me alone and not muck things up."
"No mucking here."
"Fine." He sighed. "I've decided t' help Magneto along. I'm gonna tear that team apart from the inside out, startin' with Rogue. First I worm m' way into her heart, den, when she trusts me, I make m' move. T'row a lil' suspicion in their home, give 'em a reason t' doubt her allegiance. They split into sides, an' de whole team caves in. Dat's what I'm doin', okay? So stay out o' it."
"So you're just using her? That's all?"
"Dat's all" All you need to know.
Rogue Darkholme
English 5-6
Analysis of Shakespeare's Hamlet
"To be or not to be, that is question." One of the most famous of Shakespeare's monologues belongs to the young prince, Hamlet, who must decide for himself whether living is a worthy endeavor. Faced with the untimely death of his father, the sudden marriage between his newly widowed mother and his uncle, and the appearance of his father's ghost -who may, or may not, be a trick of Hamlet's own mind-, perhaps the better question would be to trust or not to trust. Does he put his faith in his mother and uncle? Does he rely on the visions in his head?
And as I write this obviously awful, horrible analysis that will have to be revised at least ten times before school starts and the paper is actually due, I consider Remy LeBeau and ask myself the same question.
To trust, or not to trust.
A knock at the door clashed with the drummer of her favorite band, so Rogue slid the headphones off, shoved the pillow over her open notebook, and sat up on her bed, intent on ending the intrusion. It was nearly morning; couldn't the girls leave her alone for a while? "Who is it?"
"Carol."
Damn it. Rogue made sure the pages were no longer showing. "Come in."
The door creaked open and Carol entered. She was dressed in a long blue nightgown, her blonde hair locked back in thick braids. Socks protected her feet, while she tread over the tan carpet and set herself down on Kitty's desk chair, playing with her thumbs nervously. "I just...wanted to say...um.... well..."
"Yeah?"
"Sorry?"
That was unexpected. "Sorry?"
"Well, I mean, I know I've been acting pretty...well...pretty...you know..."
"Ah know." An apology? From the high maintenance Barbie? Would the world be sucked into a black hole in the next few minutes? Would little pigs fly by?
Carol nodded. "I didn't mean to meet you and act like this. It's just...do you know it feels to find out you're a mutant? Suddenly, the whole world wants to shun you. Makes you want to shun them first."
Take the olive branch, Rogue. Do the right thing. "Ah guess Ah can understand that. But take it firsthand from me, wallowin' in misery an' angst ain't going ta fix things."
"Its so hard not to. Being a mutant sucks."
"Only if ya let it."
"How do you control it? How do you cope when it interferes with everyday life? You want to know when my powers came to life?"
"Manifested," Rogue corrected, surprised to hear herself talk like the professor or Jean, advocating things after all.
"I was playing basketball. I tried to pass the ball to my friend and ended up knocking her through the gym wall. She was in the hospital for two weeks recovering. What if the next time I hand someone a book, I offer it too hard, and they end up coughing up pages."
If there was anything Rogue knew well, it was this topic. While she was learning to handle the destructive power of her touch, it still drove her crazy, the fear, the inability, the hunger, the combined helplessness and strength. "Listen Carol, instead o' complainin' an' worryin', think o' the good. Hey, if your eva' in a car crash, ya can pretty damn sure ya won't be seriously injured. An' Ah've seen a lotta mutants, just startin' off, they learn so fast an' easy. Give it another week, an' most o' this trouble will be gone. Ya friend will be betta', powers under control, an' life sweet."
The blonde smiled, hopefully. "Think so?"
"Ah know so."
"I guess. It really is easier to talk to another mutant, isn't it? My mom...well, she tried but..."
"What did she say?"
Carol laughed. "That I should think of being a mutant like being naked. Sure, people treat you different for a while, and you feel embarrassed and ashamed. But pretty soon, it doesn't matter so much. You start to like being naked. She said I should think of this place like a nudist colony, where we could all walk around naked together."
Despite herself, Rogue laughed too. "Ah think Ah speak for all o' us when Ah say thank the dear Lord people 'round here wear clothin'."
"Mmm. Except that Acul...Acolyte boy. The one with the cool eyes and the great body. I wouldn't mind seeing him..."
Rogue bit her own hand, thinking of him. The card. The offer. "He is a cute one, ain't he? But stay clear o' him, the real nice ones are always the most dangerous." Was that true, or did she just not like the idea of Carol fawning over him?
"Darn it. So...are these X-men guys hot? What about the one in the big picture downstairs, with the red glasses and the brown hair? He wasn't so bad."
"Sorry, Scooter's taken."
"By you?" Carol teased. Then she sighed, "No, I'll bet it's that redhead standing next to him in the picture, huh. You could totally see the forlorn lover look he was giving her."
"Her name's Jean. You'll meet 'em soon."
"That'll be nice." Carol got up to go. "Well, it's late. I better go sleep for a while. I'm so not a morning person. Good night, Rogue."
"Night."
"Oh yeah, and thanks for the second chance. I thought you'd hate me completely by now."
After hearing the click of the door, Rogue flipped her pillow over and turned the open page of her journal. There, laying between her poor attempt at Shakespeare analysis and her journal entry for the day, was the card, now unfolded, smoothed down, the Queen of Hearts sharing that mysterious smile again. She touched it, briefly, sighing to herself.
She always was one for second chances, wasn't she?
So here we go, the stage is set for the rest of the fic. Please, bear with me if there an incredible awkwardness in this chapter. I can watch the rest of the fic in my mind, ya know, like a movie, but someone messed with the reel and damaged this part of it. I tried to smoothen it a bit, but I dunno...hope it wasn't too bad.
I'm trying to make this different that my other fics. I added some things. Like Carol. At first, she was going to be a total...something...but I changed my mind. I've got a better idea for her. The rest of the team will make their appearance soon, though. Feel free to offer critiques. Like I said, this was kinda....an iffy chapter for me.
I would really really really really really like to know what you thought. Any suggestions? Comments? Advice?
Please, review! I live on reviews. (well, reviews and chocolate). And music. And writing. But I need reviews too! REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW!
Hey, did anyone else see the lunar eclipse? So pretty. :)
REVIEW!
Individual responses:
Rauko: Hey, thanks! Good story, BTW.
Emerald: Can't wait to see if you'll review again! Please? PLEASE? Thanks.
Geminidragon: Will they ever be able to touch again!!! That is a fascinating question, isn't it. Ya know, I haven't decided. Maybe. Maybe not. Its all sort of up in the air right now, so you need to review a lot to sway my choice in the direction you'd like it to go.
Vagabond: Hey, long time, no see. I guess I did kinda leave you in inter-chapter-limbo for a while, but that was only because my muses left me stranded in the middle of a new mexican desert with no money and no phone. And, worst of all, no writing utensils. They can be cruel sometimes, can't they. Good to read your review, hope you'll come again!
Flyby Stardancer: You guys, my wonderful reviewers, are the real awesome ones. Thank you!
Goddess Evie: Well, I had midterms, so my break wasn't all fun and games, but...thats life, non? Its good to see that people enjoy this story and I'm not just typing randomly into a computer in the middle of the night for nothing. :) Bye now!
Snow Queen: Thank you! Hope you liked this chapter as well. Hope you review!
Todd Fan: Thank you! Isn't Remy so purty. And cute. And charming. And wonderful and...sigh thanks for the review!
The Flying Pen: Thank you! Glad you like the story!
Trunks Girl: Oh fine. You have too. But you ought to. Please? puts on best puppydog face
Glad you liked it! Keep reviewing!! Or ELSE!
Ryoko Subaru: Love the mad, maniacle laugh. I've some of those too. Hope you liked this chapter!
Pookie Sanchez: I'm all grins too, reading your reviews. Thank you, kindly.
Lucky439: What can you do to keep me writing? Um...REVIEW AGAIN! Thanks :)
Bunny Angel: Thank you!
Panther Nesmith: Ah yes, continuing what must be the longest hot chocolate-based discussion, I must say, the view from here is absolutely lovely. As for the midterms, they actually went well. Of course, its now two weeks until finals, but I do hate to dwell on the distant future. You understand, I'm sure.
I must say, your butler seems quite efficient. And, forgive the cliche, its so hard to find good help these days.
You must forgive the poor french. Frankly, looking back on how frazzled I felt, I think its a miracle I managed to write the English parts with a minimum of errors. But I'm trying to not make the same mistakes. Thank you.
Good day.
Rogue Star: The update, unfortunately, wasn't too soon, but they did meet again. And the stage is being set for another meeting. Hope you'll come back and read that!
Rogue Elf: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it so much. You know, its you reviewers that keep me writing. Well...you and Rogue and Remy, but you know what I mean. Thanks again!
Ishandahalf: You know, ever time I create a character that might interfere, even for a moment, with Remy and Rogue, I receive threats from you. Gosh. But I refuse to live in fear. That's right. Maybe next chapter, there'll be a whole harem in their way. Ha ha ha...oh wait, but then I won't like it either....hmmm....interesting. That does present a problem...oh well. (Darn me and Romy addiction!) Thanks for the review!
Remy'sLilSis: Thanks! You are so sweet!
Lulu: Well, they've met again. As far as the whole touching thing, well, that waits to be seen. Thanks for the review!
Gaea: Why thank you, ever so much. Glad ya like it! :) Did you like this one too?
Me: Cake? I like cake. Can it have virtual chocolate covered strawberries on top? Please? Thanks for the review!
Nica: I'm glad you decided to come and read. It was going to be a one chap. thing, but I caved in. I'm such a sucker for reviewers. Thanks :)
Questions, comments, and coconuts can be sent to me via email at
Oh, and TFC will be updated real soon. Read it ifyou haven't! (shameless plug)
