I
would like to thank you for the reviews I've gotten... Glad to see
that I'm doing a half decent job with this.
Anyways, I've gotten a
complaint or two, about Remy walking to school instead of riding his
motorcycle, and all I have to say, is... Patience, good people.
Remy
riding a bike is my thing as well. Wouldn't dream of writing this
without him having a motorcycle. It is all part of my eveel
plot!
To be quite honest, Magneto is barely even in
this as a villan. A slight taste of what I have to come is in this
chapter. Enjoy!
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All three
Acolytes were relieved to find they basically had the same schedules.
Most hours, they would be together in class.
Boy, would the
teachers be in for on, hell of a ride.
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"What the hell'd Ah do to the damn science teacher? Ah
did mah work, and he just goddamn exploded!"
".. John,
y'started y'desk on fire, usin' de bunson burner..."
"..
It happens..."
Piotr laughed at his friends 'battle of
wits' as they sat down to lunch, looking down at the cafeteria tray,
a slightly disgusted look set over his gentle features. He poked at
the 'food' with his fork, looking up to John and Remy.
"..
Vhat vas zis again?"
"Dunno... Meatloaf?"
"Doubtful,"
Remy replied, pushing his tray away from him with a soft sigh.
John
stared down at the plate, finally taking a bit with his fork, and
bringing it to his lips.
".. You're not..?"
"Yeah,
Ah am... Ah'm starvin'!" he replied to the grimacing Russing
beside him, turning back to the fork. Closing his eyes, he slowly
brought it to his lips, and...
"Look over dere!"
Remy said suddenly, patting John on the back with force. The Aussie
gagged, dropping his fork. He glared up at Remy, smacking him on the
back of the head.
"Don't do that!" Remy didn't seem to
hear him, nor notice the slap he had just received... Instead, his
complete attention was a few feet away from their table.
There,
the Rogue sat, alone. A book lay open in front of her, gloved fingers
toying with the streaks of white in her dark, chestnut tinted
hair.
Remy slowly lifted himself, fixing the shades on the bridge
of nose, and working a slight grin on his lips.
".. I'm goin'
in..."
"And Ah'm gonna need some popcorn," John
said, rather ammused as he leaned forward to watch closer.
Rogue's
eyes lay intently into the pages of the book, reading the words
slowly and with interest, shifting in her seat slowly. A slight bit
of movement caught her eye, however, causing her to look up at the
figure standing before her... She all but drooled on the spot.
The
Cajun one stood there, a form fitting, navy blue shirt covering his
torso, the usual, baggy, faded brown trenchcoat resting over his
shoulders loosely.
His shirt tucked into the few visible
centimeters of the boxer shorts he wore, a belt wrapping around his
waist to hold his faded black cargo pants securely.
She looked up,
hoping to see the firey red demon eyes that had transfixed her on
their last meeting...
Damn. Concealed by the sunglasses.
"Can
Ah help you?" she stated coldly, half pretending not to notice
him.
".. Sweet Sout'ern accent, p'tite," he said,
smirking softly. "Seems a shame, Sout'ern belle like you,
sittin' all 'lone..." She stared at him for a few seconds.
"..
Ah plan to keep t'myself, thank y'," she replied, glaring as she
lifted herself from her seat, closing her book as she headed
outside.
Remy simply stared at the spot where she had been
sitting, slowly turning to Piotr and John.
John merely grinned,
making a thumbs down sign as Remy approached.
"Put down,
mate," he said, eyes lingering on the Cajun as he walked to his
side.
".. Hmm... Pu' down indeed," he said quietly, a
card slipping down from the sleeve of his trenchcoat, glowing light
pink in his hand. He slipped it into John's back pocket, proceeding
to walk away as fast as possible, but still, casually.
The
next sound from inside was quite obvious, non?
Remy grinned widely
at the sound, shaking his head, and looking forward, hoping to find
her.
She sat under a tree, rather secluded from anyone's view...
Perfect for her. Her knees were bent to her chest, where her book lay
open in front of her once more.
Fiddling with a button on his
trenchcoat, Remy slowly walked forward, and smiled to her softly,
quirking a brow from behind the shades.
She looked up, with a
sigh of slight irritation.
"Can'tcha just leave me alone,
creole?" His expression hardened slightly, but, he nodded his
head, smile still tugging at his lips.
"Alrigh', chere...
Y'make y'point. Remy leave y'be..." He stepped past her, and
towards the parking lot in front of the school, walking as calmly as
usual.
Rogue snorted, and looked back down towards her book...
It was almost immpossible to ignore the pang of guilt clawing at her
stomach feircely...
Guilt... When had that been a word in her
vocabulary?
With a sigh, and a roll of her emerald green eyes,
Rogue pushed herself to her feet, leaving the book at the trunk of
the tree, and walked forward, hoping to find him to apologize.
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Remy sighed in spite of himself,
running a hand through his hair. He removed the shades from the
bridge of his nose, and began to walk back towards the Acolyte house,
quirking a brow at himself, and shaking his head.
".. Should
be at school, shouldn't we?" a rather dark voice filled his
ears.
Remy turned quickly, another card slipping from his sleeve
and into his hand, glowing hot with pink. The figure before him
chuckled.
He was rather tall, and muscular, chestnut hair
pulled back into a ponytail. Sideburns led down into a beard, a
goatee wrapping around his thin lips. Dark brown eyes stared at
Gambit in ammusement, quirking a brow slowly.
The man was dressed
in a dark grey business suit, and leaning over a motorcycle...
Mon
dieu... A gorgeous motorcycle...
The tank was painted candy-apple
red, plue and purple flames overlapping them. The Harley Davidson
logo rested near the front, plated in gold, and silver, the eagle
seeming to screech into his very ears.
There wasn't a speck of
dirt on the tank... On the fender, on the bars, on the tires, even.
Brand new.
".. Nice bike," Remy muttered, staying
where he was. The man chuckled.
"How would you like to keep
it?" That thought made his eyes bulge, and his breathing
quicken... That ended quickly, however. ".. What de catch, ol'
man?"
"Nothing, really... I'm just a man, looking to
help fellow man," he said, standing up straight, and walking
over. "All I ask in turn, is that when you ask me of a favor...
You return it. This, is just," he paused. ".. A
freebie."
Remy snorted.
".. A freebie..." He
thought this over. ".. Why should I help you?" He chuckled
once more, deeper, eyes narrowing slowly.
".. Because I
happen to know of a pretty femme I could help you get..." Remy
gulped, closing his eyes...
Should he..?
He groaned quietly in
defeat, looking up at the man, and noding his head, holding his hand
out. He grinned.
".. Very good, very good..."
He
pulled a key from the pocket of his suit, handing it to Remy.
"..
A deal's a deal," he stated. Remy accenpted the key greatfully,
watching as the man turned to walk off.
".. Hol' up!" he
said. The man stopped. "What's y'name, mon ami?" He smiled
softly, turning to face him.
".. Professor Esexx," he
said, turning to continue walking, and dissapear soon. Remy cocked
his head to the side slowly, but shrugged his shoulders, and walked
to the motorcycle...
His, motorcycle.
".. Gambit? Hold
up, Swamp Rat," he heard the sensual Southern drawl behind him.
A shudder ran down his spine. He turned slowly to look at Rogue,
quirking a brow, and turning back again, climbing on the
bike.
"Gambit, Ah just wanted... Where're y'goin'?"
"..
I'm ditchin'... Dis school bites," he said, revving the engine.
"Care ta join me?"
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Author's Note:
Muahaha! o.O; Sorry...
Well, there
ya have it, all Remy-motorcycle obsessees, my third chapter! Yes... A
cliffhanger... Sorta...
Thank for readin' this far, and, I'll have
the next chapter up soon!
Review, please!
