A/N.2; Something I think I should have explained for anyone who didn't
follow the 'Gambit; Vol.2' comic when it was out a few years ago. I only
realised when I received the review from Tedabug, so cheers for pointing it
out. The photograph Remy mentioned in chapter six was one of him in the
19th C. that had to do with him travelling back in time at Jean-Luc's
behest to save the New Orleans Guild at its conception. The other
photograph I mentioned Ororo seeing at 'Tantie Mattie's house was
completely innocuous and totally of my invention, and has nothing to do
with the other one which is from the Marvel canon. Sorry if I caused any
confusion, I should have made my self clear!
Very grateful again to everyone who reviewed, it is always great to here from you and inspired me to get this chapter done. And an extra special thanks to Aimee Belle.
Chapter.8.
After half an hour or perhaps longer outside on the veranda, Remy finally came back in doors. He presumed that more than enough time had passed and that Ororo would be fast asleep by now. As he entered the living room the smell of spent candles and incense hit him despite the fact that the door that led outside had been left open; some elements of its thick perfume still clung to the atmosphere in great, almost visible swathes. From outside, a fresher shade of citrus sky lit the small room up, giving it the same gentle tone as the candles had. He glanced down at 'Tantie, surmising quickly that she was still in slumber too. Moving his tall, sleek frame with swift ease across the longue, he was only stopped abruptly when a scratchy voice called out to him from the sofa.
"Yo' two." The words were uttered with slight bemusement from the old woman still laid beneath the thick throws-come-blankets, like they were some kind of private joke. She shook her head, her creased eyelids still firmly shut as she repeated, almost to herself, "Yo' two."
"What's dat 'Tantie?" Remy did an about turn, moving over to the sofa and bending down onto his haunches at her side.
"Yo' two," She repeated for the third time as if he should be perfectly aware of what she was talking about, opening her eyes finally she continued, intoning quietly. "yo' too blind t' see it."
"See wha'?" He said with a vaguely nervous laugh, wearing a look of confusion on his handsome angular features.
'Tantie tried to sit up; leaning her weight on her thick forearms and pushing backwards. She managed to get her back leaning half-way against the cushy arm of the settee behind her, but then gave up, deciding that she was comfortably enough where she was. Once she'd ceased her fidgeting she fixed Remy with a look that was at first inquisitive, her brow furrowing as she studied him, but quickly turned 'school-ma'amish' as she asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "Has evr'yt'in' yo' been t'rough taught yo' nuhddin?"
Remy stared at her, truly perplexed by now. He pushed himself forwards, going from balancing his body weight on the balls of his feet to kneeling down at the edge of the rug. "Remy ain't got de slightest clue wha' yaw talkin' 'bout." He gave that laugh again; short and unsure, accompanied with a quick jerk of his shoulders.
"Exactly!" She exclaimed, her voice becoming inadvertently shrill, cutting through the gentle silence. Clenching her hand into a ball so that just one stern, 'accusing' finger pointed out, she lightly jabbed it to Remy's toned right shoulder, punctuating each word with the gesture as she reiterated, "Yaw---too---blind." Leaning back then, she tilted her head to the side and regarded him with a sympathetic yet somehow chastising smile, the sort that mothers are prone to.
"Yah, I'm blind." Remy simply agreed, a little caustically, "Remy don' understan' yo' but I agree, chère." He was too tired and too distracted to find out what the hell this latest 'Tantie Riddle' was all about as she tapped his arm playfully for his sarcasm. She had rather an annoying habit of lapsing into speaking at crossed purposes at times. Sometimes it was best to just concede that whatever she was saying was right even if you didn't understand it. It saved a lot of hassle in the long run.
After regarding him wordlessly for a while longer, Mattie slowly moved her podgy, aged fingers up to cup Remy's face, absently brushing her thumb through his dark, dense stubble. "Why didn' yo' come an' tell 'Tantie?" She asked, her voice sounding oddly meek.
Once again the goal posts had moved and she was off on another tangent but this time Remy caught her meaning instantly. She was intuitive about such matters and it didn't surprise him for one moment that she had recognised that his bio-kinetic powers were missing. He fought off a frown, glancing quickly downwards before meeting Mattie's concerned eyes once more. "Wha' de point chére?" He said flatly, "Mah powers---dey gone. Dere ain't no point mopin' ov'r somet'in' I can do jack-shit 'bout." He shrugged, feeling oddly philosophical about the whole subject.
"Watch yaw mouth boy!" She chided for his expletive, never-the-less with a smile on her lips. Remy simply cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her his boyish grin, the kind he used to give her whenever she'd caught him up to no good, like raiding her drinks cabinet with Etienne at thirteen, or getting discovered smoking in the cellar with Bella when they were fourteen. She patted his cheeks affectionately before taking her hands away and pulling at her make-shift blanket, hitching it that little bit higher about her chest. "I know yo' okay---yaw a survivor, 'ave been since yo' were dis big." She made a gesture of size with her hands, indicating the small form of a baby. "But dat don' mean I can' worry 'bout yo'." Reaching out, she quickly stroked a hand over his hair that had gone flat with the balmy air; the sunlight picking out the keenness of the reddish colour from the darker elements.
"Dere's no need 'Tantie." He smiled reassuringly as he could, which for him was an action that could be effected with consummate ease. "Remy's fine--- yo' don' need t' concern yaw self ov'r 'im. What yo' do need t' be doin' is lookin' aft'r yo'self." He glanced over his shoulder at the table. "Stayin' up all nigh' in dis heat, fawnin' ov'r yaw bits o' clay ain' gonna do yo' no good girl." She gave him a sly look for his cheek over her devotion but said nothing. "I mean it," he said, becoming serious this time, "De las' t'ing I wan' is fo' yo' t' get ill---stuck out 'ere, all on yaw own."
"But dat's de point Remy," She practically whispered, her eyes going over his shoulder to gaze upon the serene face of the Virgin, set in her pale blue hood. "I ain' nevah alone."
Remy held a vaguely sceptical look but didn't let it pass on to Mattie, for he knew how much her faith meant to her. He'd never belittle her for it, whatever his personal, more sober views on the matter were. "Whatevah---yo' jus' take care, hien?"
"I will." She promised, heartened by him, "I will." Remy made to get up from the ground, but 'Tantie then asked, "As long as yo' promise me somet'in'?"
He winced a little on the inside, thinking he knew what she was going to ask of him. But he had to go; he couldn't back out of this now. "Wha'?"
"When yaw chance fo' happiness comes along yo' grab it, yo' grab it wit' both hands boy," So, it wasn't what he had expected and they had once more slipped back into the realms of the cryptic conversation. But he still listened intently. "Don' waste yaw chance...yo' deserve it mah li'le angéllique garçon." Remy huffed at that, not accustomed to being compared to heavenly bodies instead of those that dwelled below, but then smiled at her good-naturedly. "An' I know yaw gonna go to de Amazon and get dat t'ing, no matter wha' I say." She continued, suddenly a little reproachful, but only through love. "But jus' be careful---heck, wha' am I sayin', 'course yo' gonna be fine! Yo' got dat beautiful femme wit' yo'."
"Oui." He said softly, prompted by the mention of her into a quiet whisper.
"She a good one Remy," She nodded her head vigorously as her eyes fluttered closed again, "Mattie saw dat right away. She noble...an' true."
"She was a Goddess ya know," Remy replied somewhat sardonically, "---well, kinda."
"I can tell." She said meekly but happily and then just like that she seemed to slip off into sleep once more, her worn but proud face holding a kind of relaxed contentment.
Remy sat by her side for a little bit longer before getting up again, slowly, as not to disturb her. He manoeuvred across the room then with a deft lightness befitting of a skilful thief, avoiding all objects in his path. In no time he found himself standing at the arched entrance to the room that was at the back of the one he was in now. Leaning on the frame, crossing his long legs over at the ankles he gazed upon the slim sleeping form that lay gracefully on the bed.
Mon Dieu...the woman could even manage to sleep elegantly. He began to appreciate for the first time the easy pleasure of observing her from this vantage point. He'd more often than not be curled up next to her whilst she slept, only ever giving him chance to take her in in that intimacy, not really getting the chance to appreciate her fully, as now. He had to admit, he was perhaps a little in awe of her. A sliver of the bright morning beamed down in a thin shaft through the thick velveteen curtains, highlighting tiny white particles of dust that danced about the room like miniature fairies. The pale light fell upon her body that rested above the sheets of the bed instead of beneath them. She was bent slightly at the stomach, her long thighs going down diagonally and then her strong calves going diagonally in the other direction; her knees together, like an arrow pointing. His eyes slowly travelled up the landscape that was her, stopping briefly at the slight exposure of her flat stomach before continuing up her bare arm, making him think of the silk feel of that warm chocolate skin beneath his fingers. He followed its length all the way up to the curve of her shoulder, the line of her collar bone clearly visible, taking in all the detail, delaying the moment that his gaze would settle on her face.
With time his dark eyes lifted that extra distance, falling with a painful twinge onto her beautifully smooth features; her eyelashes so long that they brushed her cheek as she slept. Her nose, he'd always found one of her most delectable physical traits, perking upwards, just slightly, at its softly rounded tip. Then there was her mouth...her mouth. He couldn't avoid it any longer. Remy swallowed down hard as he looked at it finally; its pout at the corners and its warm, soft feel...its touch he'd felt a thousand times, but he had to ask himself now; had he really ever touched it? His casual kisses were ten-a-penny, but what he'd almost let happen earlier...he could kick himself as he thought about it now. What the fuck had he been thinking? Well, that was the problem right there; he hadn't been. Drawing his long fingers over his eyes, he pinched them together at the bridge of his hard, straight nose. He held them there for a moment he yawned; small and stifled with a short gasping sound. Tiredness, he reasoned with himself, that's what it was. It had been a hectic night after all, really quite emotional too if he thought about it. Exhaustion and the need to be close to someone he could depend on had caused him to do what he did. In fact, it could almost be consider a reflex action, he jested with himself, trying to keep things light. Running the hand that had been at the bridge of his nose over the bottom half of his face, he settled upon that as the explanation, being content to be easily convinced by it.
Feeling a little better for that, Remy looked upon Storm with fresh eyes. The shaft of light was gradually growing greater, fatter and longer, throwing more emphasis on the 'dance of the fairies' and the tall sleeping beauty that they frolicked around. A Vermeer painting he'd once seen in Delft came to his mind as the sharp sunbeam played on her curves, throwing every supple limb and expanse of skin that wasn't covered with black cloth into a stunning relief of light and dark. Noble... 'Tantie had called her, noble...and true. Remy couldn't think of two other words that would describe the woman that lay before him better. But he could think of one more, another perfect adjective to fit her like a glove...breathtaking. Simply breathtaking...
For a moment his reasons to convince waned, his resolve began to creek beneath his veneer of reason. She stirred, and her lips parted a little, letting out a soft moan as she shifted her head on the hand that it lay on and he felt his chest tighten and his stomach do likewise. No, this was tiredness, he told himself again---it was time to get some discipline back. The best way to start that would for her not to be in his view, and so he pushed off the doorframe without so much as another stolen glance at her and went back into the room where Mattie lay in sleeping peacefully. Standing roughly central in the room for a moment, his hands in his pockets, he looked at a loss as to what he could be doing now. Sleep had suddenly and rather swiftly been expelled from the equation. Then he had a brainwave. Going back out onto the veranda swiftly, he came back in seconds, swinging his large dark mocha duster up and on. He then headed quickly but quietly out of the room and out the house.
* * *
The flat metal bottom of the gold plated wine goblet scrapped lazily at the rough wood of the table as Thierry Mauvais ran it round in the traces of circles. His eyes held a dark, far off look...brooding. He took hold of the stem with a firm grip and brought the wide rimmed top to his mouth, throwing back the last of the blood red wine that had nestled in its pit. He brought the goblet back down with a loud slam which briefly dissipated the discontented murmurs of the room, all eyes turning onto him as he sat alone at the far end of the table. But the low chatter started up once more as Thierry grabbed up the deep green wine bottle and refilled his glass and gold goblet, letting great waves of the red liquid slosh around, nearly spilling over the finely cut rim. But he paid it no mind, his eyes still fixed on that elusive point of nowhere.
"Thierry?---A word mon ami." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jean- Luc coming down from the other end of the table and taking up the vacant chair next to him. He didn't look up at him, delving instead into his wine, taking two or three great, greedy gulps.
Jean-Luc gripped at the edge of the seat of his chair between his legs, squatting above it for a moment whilst he pulled it closer to the table. "So, what yo' t'ink o' all dis."
He took another massive mouthful; his Adam's Apple moving up and down most prominently as the acid liquid went down the hatch. The bottom of the goblet banged loudly again as it connected with the table. "I don' like it." He turned and fixed Jean-Luc with a determined stare. "I don' like it one bit. Dat boy---."
"I know wha' yo' t'ink o' Remy, an' I don' need t' here it again." Jean-Luc interjected sternly. "I was askin' yo'---as mah Chief Advisor---wha' yo' t'ink o' all dis."
The sandy haired man nodded slowly as he looked absently at the half empty wine bottle in front of him, for a moment putting his hatred aside and trying to mull over things in his head. "It don' seem righ' Jean." He took his gaze back to his close friend and leader, "Since when do t'ose Guild's get in cahoots wit' each uddah." He shook his head then, his light eyebrows creasing downwards, "Dis feel like a set up---good an' proper."
"But who?" Jean-Luc thought for a moment, "Lopez seemed t' be de ring leader but dat's too obvious---he wouldn't o' set up de meetin' if he was the one settin' us fo' a fall, y' know what ah'm sayin'?"
"Yo' t'ink someone' pullin' de guy's string's?"
"Mebbe." He replied darkly.
"What 'bout de others homme?" Thierry pushed himself up in his chair and turned to face Jean-Luc fully; one arm resting on the table, the other elbow high and leaning on the tall back of the chair. "Dey can't all be havin' dheir chains yanked---dheir no' dat stupid."
"Non." Jean-Luc conceded and then paused thoughtfully, "But dey got somet'in' up dheir sleeves mon ami---I can jus' feel it."
Thierry absently began to drum his fingers on the table, the metal of his gloves making a tiny tapping sound instead of a low bass beat. "What happens when he bring' de Carcoccia to us? What den?"
"Dey be waitin' fo' us, an' we take it to dem."
"Where?" He asked shortly, "'Ere in Nawlin'?"
"Oui." He shared his friends scepticism; a feeling that was apparent on his face and in the tone of his voice.
"An' our share? What we get out of all dis?"
Jean-Luc laughed sardonically, his head dipping to the side briefly, "I t'ink de deal is dey get de booty---we get t' keep our Guild...an' our lives."
Thierry took his arms from the chair and the table, crossing them over his chest; his broad, strong body becoming visibly stiff with coiled anger and utter indignity. "Dey t'reaten us?"
"No' in so many words but," Jean-Luc pursed his lips, his brows raising slightly, "let's jus' say dat de implication wuz dere," he nodded like he was confirming his own words, repeating, "it wuz definitely dere."
The other man huffed with bitter laughter; sharp and cruel. "An' dey wan' us t' trust our fate t' de one man dat betrayed us worse dan anyone---nice touch." Jean-Luc didn't say anything to that one. Not wishing to be drawn into a debate on the matter, though thinking that one was probably unavoidable. "Mon Dieu," he exclaimed in breathless annoyance, "Dat Lopez bast'ard sure knows 'ow t' put a man over de barrel." His fists clenched against the magenta plate over his chest unbeknown to him.
"Now Thierry," Jean-Luc said cautiously, "Don' yo' see? Dat's why he chose Remy. He be hopin' if he don' get t' destroy dis Guild, we'll do it from de inside out instead-tear ourselves apart." His face become hard and serious, "We can't let dat 'appen mon ami."
"I know Jean," he leant forwards slightly, his arms still crossed though the tension had dropped a little from his posture, "I'll try an' put dat aside, fo' yaw sake if nuhddin' else but dese boys," He took a swift glance to the men sat at the other end of the table, "An' uddah members o' de clan- --dey won' be so easy t' convince. Dere are people in yaw own Guild dat still want yaw boy dead mon ami. 'Ow yo' gonna stop dem, hien?"
"Ah'm not." Jean-Luc stated quietly, "Yo' are." Thierry regarded his leader for a moment, cocking his head to the side as his arms came down from his chest slowly, seemingly of their own volition. But before he could utter a word in protest, Jean-Luc said, "Tomorrow," then he remembered the time, "later today, I wan' yo' t' call a meetin' an---explain t'ing's to dem."
"What t'ing's?" Thierry growled through his drawl.
"One bruise...one scratch," He started slowly, "One hair on 'is head is touched durin' dis," His eyes became as black as night, their usual emotionless look forged with extra steel, "An' dat t'ief will answer t' me. Yo' understand dat?"
"Oui."
"Good." Jean-Luc nodded, his eyes returning to normal as he pulled back, unaware that he'd gradually started to lean forwards as he'd issued his warning. "Den yo' go tell dem now," he looked at the men down at the other side of the table, his cadre, as they pretended to be paying the no attention. Still with his eyes on them he said, " an' get dem t' spread de word-I wan' ev'ry thief in dis city t' know. Remy ain't t' be touched."
"Oui." Thierry stated simply again, his strong jaw tight. Scrapping his chair back he daren't have looked at Jean-Luc for what he might have said to him. So before his restraint broke he went over to the others to inform them of this latest decree.
* * *
Ororo woke up feeling even more groggy than before she'd fallen asleep. She sat up on the bed, swinging her long legs over the edge, her bare feet hitting the hard floor. Running both her hands through her short hair, she let them go all the way down until they came together at the nape of her neck, threading the fingers of each hand through the other. It was very bright in the room by now, the dark velveteen curtain having fallen open a little, creating a now wide shard of sunlight to illuminate the room. Everything was quiet except for the fact that the dawn chorus had become a full on concert now that the day had begun in earnest. She stood up from the bed, rubbing absently at an itch in the near corner of her left eye, simultaneously taking away the thick blur that impaired her sight.
Walking into the living room she scanned the area quickly. There was only 'Tantie Mattie asleep on the sofa and the same disarray of cushions and such as there was last night. She dipped into the kitchen, just ducking her head in but there was no-one in there and when she checked the veranda there was nobody out there either.
"By the Goddess Remy LeBeau." She seethed to herself in a hissing whisper, "If you have left without me, I'll---." She scrunched her hands into small fists, unable to think of an adequate threat to cry out to the ether. Taking one or two paces back and forth she suddenly bolted for the door, and went right outside the house. Squinting her eyes against the sun at the same time as shielding them by putting her hand above them like a visor she looked out down the dirt path that led up to 'Tantie's house cutting a safe passage through the potentially dangerous swamps. The place was deserted; she couldn't see another soul in sight. So, the only course of action left to her was to go back into the house, grab her boots and leather jacket and then head to where they'd stashed the X-jet and hope that it was still there.
But as she turned to go back into the house a familiar voice called out, "Stormy! What'cha doin'?"
Ororo turned back around, but did so at a normal pace, not wanting to appear over anxious. "Where have you been?" Like she needed to ask; it was obvious from what he had in one hand and slung over his back, hanging from one shoulder.
"We be needin' supplies fo' our jungle adventure mon chère," he quirked her a wicked grin as he finally came right before her, throwing down the backpack that he'd held in his hand down to the ground for a moment. "I jus' called in a few favours t' get dem, dat's all. Why?"
Ororo remained quiet for a moment, her eyebrow raised in a defensively haughty way. She couldn't help herself though; she was feeling a little foolish for having to admit that she thought he'd bailed on her. Plus recollections of the veranda were hitting her keenly now that he was here in the flesh. "I thought you had gone Remy."
"Wit'out yo'?" He pretended to look offended at the suggestion, "Nevah." He gave her that grin again and then picked up the rucksack he'd rested down on the dirt yard and made his way past her with a small wink.
For some reason that annoyed the hell out of her more than the fact that she thought he'd left her behind. She felt her cheeks flush with a temporary heat because she knew why his casual manner was getting her pissed and was embarrassed to admit it t herself. He was acting like nothing had happened earlier that morning. Although she knew that she should be grateful for that, even she, the great, cool Goddess of the X-Men could succumb to being fickle at times. Guess she was only 'human' after all, she thought to herself dryly. After waiting for him to disappear back through the door she followed him in with a casual stride and her arms folded over her chest.
* * *
Hours later, Santa Maria das Barreiras on the Araguaia river, Central Brazil...
Ororo waved her hand nonchalantly in front of her face to shoo away four particularly persistent flies as they buzzed about in her immediate vicinity. Giving up with all pretences at subtly, eventually she put a bit of force into her effort, carrying the unsuspecting flies away on a short but strong gust. A few gasp of surprise went up around the immediate area at the bus station (a dusty patch of ground on the outskirts of the city) as the crowd were taken by surprise by a sudden wind that came from nowhere and disappeared there too. Remy gave her a knowing smile and chastising look from behind his slim dark glasses; pointing out with that simple look, their need for discretion. She turned away from him as if something off to her left had suddenly caught her attention, not wanting to show him good- natured smirk that was fighting for control of her lips. And so they continued to stand in silence among the other people waiting for the twice daily bus that drove out to a small township forty miles outside San Maria das Barreiras, deep in the rainforest.
They looked unassuming enough, like a pair of back-packers that visited such outposts all the time, still wearing the combats and black T-shirt get- up but sans their heavy jackets. The big bulky khaki rucksacks with all their supplies in were strapped safely to their backs and they were both sporting shades and sun hats. Nobody gave them a second glance. The X-jet had been stored safely and this time somewhat more legitimately at a small private airfield on the west side of the city. There was no way they could have flown it to roughly the destination they were looking to get to---the jungle was simply far too dense. So now they were waiting for a bus out to the township that nestled on the Xingu river; one of the many off-shoots of the mighty Amazon.
There was a huge milieu of people waiting, some returning from trying to sell produce, still carrying fruit, vegetables of all varieties and some still with some live stock still in tow---chickens, lamb and in some cases small goats. There was even a man with a great hefty brown and pink pig that had just shown up, joining the back of the disjointed 'queue'. But mostly the people there were workers and families having spent the day in the city for whatever reason.
A distant rumble started from down the hill, just out of sight which never- the-less caused the chattering mass to become more pronounced as they all started to move forwards.
"Looks like dis is our ride 'Roro." Remy said quietly beside her as he peered over the dark haired heads easily, at the noise trundling up the hill towards them, as of yet still unseen. Then the front vender came over the top of the mud mound, roaring furiously and shooting out worrying jets of steam.
As the ancient yellow bus sped the last stretch, halting to a gear-grinding stop Ororo eyed its rusted body work and hanging metal panels, noting the thick stench of burning rubber and petrol fumes. Leaning over as if to whisper, but over the din of the engine and the people clamouring to get aboard the untrustworthy mode of transport she found herself having to shout into Remy's ear, "Are you sure you do not wish me to fly us as far as Xingu? I am sure I could manage to get us that far at least."
Remy chuckled and leant in to her in turn, and reminded her, "We meant t' be blendin' in chère. Flyin' women carryin' men ov'r forests ain't really gonna help, hien?" He cocked an eyebrow at her above his dark shades. She narrowed her eyes in return and then smiled as the bus doors clatter open and the entire crowd began to shuffle forwards and board the death-trap-on- wheels.
Gambit stuffed his bag onto the rack above the seat where Ororo had sat, then reached down as she passed him hers and put it up there too. She scooted over on the chair, pulling herself across the smooth, worn lino seat covering via her grip on the iron handrail on the top of the seat in front. As soon as she'd set herself up next to the window, she half stood up again and yanked down the siding window pane. The bus was not yet full and already it was unbearably stuffy---the heat out here was twice as thick as it had been in New Orleans and they hadn't even entered the rainforest proper yet. Storm was doing all she could to regulate her temperature but the humidity was making it fairly hard to concentrate on anything never mind such a delicate manipulation as that. Overriding nature wasn't always as effortless and easy as she so often made it appear. Sure the odd quick, short gust of wind could be done with the minimum of effort, but good old Mother Nature had a marked tendency to fight back.
"Yo' good?"
Ororo turned from the window quickly, like he'd snapped her from a daydream, "Yes---there is just no air in here, that is all." He smiled and was about to reach over and put his arm around her but didn't. Though he caught himself in time, or so he thought; Ororo could read him like a book and sensed the aborted movement. But she didn't betray as much, turning her face to the window again to look out over a sea of vibrant luscious green as the doors shut noisily again on the dangerously overcrowded bus. The engine screamed in protest as the driver began to pull her back out onto the road.
*
Taking his wide-rimmed, wicker weaved hat from his head, Remy absently began to fan himself with it as he felt little beads of sweat running from the nape of his neck and down the back of his close-fitting T-shirt. They'd been on the bus for close to two hours and barely a word had passed between the pair. Even in the X-jet on the long trip down here, conversation had been preciously scarce; reduced to passing each other figures on their altitude and such. She'd seemed spiky ever since he'd returned to 'Tantie's this morning and he had to be honest---it surprised him that she'd react that way to one moment of indiscretion...only near indiscretion at that. They hadn't actually kissed...not really. He'd never seen her give him the cold shoulder as much as this and over something so petty. The more he thought about it, the more it agitated him and the more it agitated him, the more he got silently frustrated...
He turned and looked over at her, doing it in such a away that even with her head turned to the window there was no way she could have failed to have noticed the action. And notice it Storm did but she wasn't in the mood to have it out with him on a rickety bus packed with strangers, whether they could understand English or not. She continued to look out of the window regardless as clouds drew together in a tight dark knit overhead above the tall trees and rain began to spit down in dribs and drabs against the lower half of the window. Closing her stunning eyes, she quietly relished the feel of the light specks flying in through the still open window, warm on her skin. The road seemed even more rough and bumpy when she'd blacked everything out from her sight; the bus being practically tossed down the narrow path as it hit every log, every fallen branch, every pothole and stone-come-boulder. But even so, she found a strange pocket of peace for herself as the incessant noise of squawking chickens, bleating lambs; the squealing of that brown and pink speckled pig, laughter and chatter in a foreign tongue fell away...
Remy gave up and faced back to the front again, shifting obviously so that he disturbed the back support of the seat. He placed his hat back on and then after a moment remembered that the other reason he'd taken it off apart to use as a fan was because it scratched awfully at his forehead. So he took it off again and placed it on his lap.
"Remy, will you please stop fidgeting?"
He looked over at her darkly; she was still facing the open window with her eyes closed as best he could tell. After a long stretch had passed since her words, he said out the blue, trying to keep his voice light, "Are yo' gonna say somet'in' or are we gon' spend de whole trip like a pair o' mutes?"
"What would you like me to say?"
"Well, fo' a start, yo' could look at me when yaw talkin' t' me."
Ororo did face him then, trying to look him directly in the eye but the shades blocked her path, whilst she had removed hers long ago. She had a hint of a smile on her face, something he hadn't expected. "You know, you sound just like a teacher." She teased and then made to turn back to the window but stopped short when he said;
"I guess all dis cold shoulder shit is cause o' what 'appened at Mattie's." He said, sounding accusing this time; his timbre low and really quiet harsh.
Storm faced him sharply then, turning her entire torso in his direction. "Me giving YOU the cold shoulder?" She retorted with a breezy...measured indignity, as only she could effect, "I was not the one trying to pretend like nothing happened."
"De only reason Remy said nuhddin is coz he didn' t'ink yo'd wanna talk 'bout it chère."
"So you thought going about like everything was hunky-dorey would make it go away?"
Remy laughed inadvertently, but quickly stopped himself. He'd never heard her use such a throw-away expression as 'hunky-dorey' before. Then he thought seriously for a moment; this was getting blown up out of all proportion and it didn't need to be made an issue out of if they didn't want it to be. He opened his mouth, about to bid her to let it lie, when he realised that they had an audience. "Bonjour mah petit."
Ororo looked at him in confusion until her attention was pulled to the seat in front of them where on a little girl was staring at the pair from over the back of the chair, sat in between two adults. Her big mahogany eyes looked up at them both as her chubby hands clung to the steel hand rail and her mouth rested on it. Taking her mouth away from pressing against the cold hard steel she smiled shyly at them and then quickly leant back down against it. "What yaw name mon chèrie?" He asked despite the fact that he knew she probably couldn't understand him. Sure enough she didn't answer but she did smile against the metal bar though. Then Remy did something that could have been a little risky but what the hell, he was sure the little darling wouldn't kick up a fuss. He put his finger to the side of his glasses and dipped them slightly so she could see his eyes. Hers widened in surprise at first but it wasn't fearful, moreover a look of wonder. Remy grinned, gave her a wink and pushed his glasses back up again.
Storm smiled at Remy and then down at the sweet little Brazilian girl with her adorable jet black pig tails hanging down at either side of her round coffee coloured face. It just went to prove what she had been saying to him back at the mansion; he was great with kids when he wanted to be. Then she watched as he took his sun hat from his lap and proceeded to place it on the girls head. "Dere yo' go li'll one." She let out a small giggle as it drowned her tiny head, making her push it back so she could see. "It suit yo'." He told her earnestly, "Remy only looked like an' idiot in it anyway." She had no idea what he was saying but she laughed never-the-less. And Ororo did too. Any immediate tension dissipated there and then.
* * *
Township on the Xingu river...
"...where did you find this place Remy?" Ororo shouted over the din of the pelting rain.
Remy continued to concentrate on the delicate business of picking the rather complicated lock on the research station that sat just at the top of the hill from the rest of the mud hut village, half submerged in the trees. "I did a li'll diggin'." He called back. Despite the fact that he was stood beneath the wooden awning the rain was hammering down horizontally, hitting hard at his back.
"You were a busy little bee this morning."
"Hien?" He briefly looked over his shoulder at her, but his skilful hands never stopped working.
"Nothing." Ororo looked around briefly, she was meant to be on look out but it was pitch black out here and only the immediate patch of ground close to the cabin was visible. Plus the rain was like a thick sheet too, making it almost impossible to see through. They wouldn't have heard or seen anything even if there had been somebody approaching.
"Hey, can't yo' do somet'in' 'bout dis damn rain?" He hollered to her, "Makin' it 'ard to concentrate." His wet hand suddenly slipped from the lock, undoing most of the hard work he'd already done. "Fuck it." He muttered viciously.
Ororo shone the torch she was holding onto the patch of ground just down the steps, noting that it was rapidly turning into a mudslide out there. Then she moved the torch's strong white beam onto the lock and came to lean against the door at Remy's side. "Would you like me to try?"
After several whispered Cajun swears directed at the lock, he shook his head, "Non, Remy's....got it! Yes!" He hissed in quiet triumph. The lock popped open and he swung the door inwards. But to their shock and dismay an alarm squealed at them as soon as they stepped over the threshold. "Fuck!" Remy quickly flicked a light switch on, several halogen spot lights clicking into life overhead, and located the alarm box quickly. Pulling down the Perspex panel that guarded it he began tapping away methodically. This should have been a doddle.
After a few seconds he was almost there, he could feel he was about to crack it, seven or eight codes away perhaps when Ororo said, "Remy move."
"I almos' got it chère." His fingers continued working away with sharp rapid clicking as he used his free hand to push back his soaking bangs.
"Move!" The way she bellowed the word, this time he just stopped what he was doing and stepped aside. Ororo came closer, a blue tinged white ball of light fizzling around her right hand as her eyes swirled with milky white. She held her hand up to the small rectangular box and several miniature shots of lightening sprang from the ball. With a cracking sound the box burst into fits of sparks and the ear-piercing of the alarm ceased immediately.
"Lacks a certain...subtlety, but hey," Remy grinned at her; lopsided and effortlessly charming, "it got de job done."
Ororo pursed her lips to keep from smiling as she moved into the room, shrugging off her heavy rucksack as she went. "Did you not think," She began as she placed her pack on a camp bed in the corner of the room and then turned back around to face him, "to check and see if a research station, that has---," she cast her eyes over all the computers and equipment in the vicinity, "millions of dollars worth of technical equipment would not have an alarm system too?"
Remy shrugged and grinned again as he too pulled off his rucksack, "Guess I fo'got t' check dat small detail."
She rolled her eyes at him, "Hmmm---I guess you did."
Taking off her wicker hat and squeezing out the small amount of water her hair had managed to soak up, Ororo looked around the room. There wasn't all that much in there in truth, just two work stations with computers on them and a satellite phone, and then a lab bench running across the wall at the back, set up with microscopes and sinks. Next to it there were a couple of extremely expensive looking pieces of equipment but what they were for, she knew not. Three camp beds with thick coarse looking blankets were set in rows just behind her. Sitting down on the bed where she'd put down her rucksack, she asked, "What is this place for?"
"Groups come up 'ere ev'ry now an' den, doin' research int' local flora an' faunae, I t'ink." He peeled his soaking black T-shirt off and then twisted it, wringing out all the rainwater it had managed to soak up, letting it splash down onto the wooden boards underfoot without a care. "Didn' really look int' it. De place was empty fo' a couple o' months wit' de rainy season---dat's all I cared 'bout."
"Rainy season? Have you not noticed?" She quipped rhetorically as she took off her leather jacket that she'd had the good sense to take from her bag and put on earlier when they'd got off the bus to the torrential downpour, saving her from the worst of it, "It is almost always raining here---I think they are better off counting the dry seasons instead. They do not call it the rainforest for nothing."
"V'ry funny." He replied dryly as he looked up at her whilst pulling a fresh T-shirt from his bag, but his eyes quickly dropped back down again when he saw her peeling off her wet combats, revealing endless shapely legs. It wasn't like he hadn't seen them a thousand times before, but...
"Remy? What is wrong?"
"Nuhddin, why?" He still wasn't looking at her as he folded out a plain white T-shirt and pulled it on quickly.
"You just looked---." There was a furious knocking on the door that startled them both. They looked over at the door, then at each other and then back to the door.
"Hello?" A man's deep voice called from the other side of the thick wood. "Hello? Is there anybody there?"
"Merde." Remy muttered to himself and then held his hand out to indicate that Ororo should stay where she was as he walked cautiously over to the door. There was no way they could get out of this without facing whoever it was on the over side. Time for some spiel he supposed. "Who is it?" He called, close to the door, effecting an all-American accent flawlessly.
"The local Police Warden." Came the reply, with slight impatience. Remy flashed Ororo a mischievous smile as he quickly glanced at her whilst she simply splayed her hands and hitched her shoulders as if to say; I don't know, you think of something.
Remy took his shades out of his pocket and slipped them on and then without further ado, yanked the door open and faced the sopping wet warden with a personable smile. "Hello." He offered out his hand in greeting.
The warden took it but definitely looked suspiciously at him and then into the room whereupon he caught sight of Ororo. "What are you doing here? The last group of scientists left three weeks ago---this place isn't meant to be occupied again until December." His accent was thick but his English was perfect.
"Yes, I know but my colleague and I received a research grant quite unexpectedly and came up here at the last minute. We didn't have chance to phone anyone ahead." The lies simply rolled of his tongue without so much as a glitch or a stumble.
"Where from?" He pressed. Remy was convincing but not so convincing that it didn't warrant further questions.
"I'm Professor Chester Johnston from the University of Wisconsin and my colleague here is Professor---."
"Professor N'Dare Achmed, University of Cairo." Ororo strode over to the door, holding her hand out confidently in greeting, only remembering at the last moment that she was only wearing her vest top and a pair of extraordinarily skimpy black knickers. Very professional. Remy folded his arms across his chest and then brought one hand to rest over his mouth in a stance that said he was thinking, when in fact he was simply trying to prevent himself from bursting into laughter at the look of surprise on the wardens face. "We are sorry we turned up without warning." She carried on regardless.
"No-no problem." He turned back to Remy, "Something wrong with the alarm?"
Remy took his hand away and drew in an accidentally sharp breath, "Yes." He looked briefly at the partly melted and still smoking box, prompting the warden to poke his head through the door and crane his neck around to look at it, "Urr, short circuit." Remy told him somewhat sheepishly.
The warden looked at the pair, apparently satisfied that they seemed genuine enough. "If you need anything, just come down into the village and find me Or my house is the next one down the hill from here."
"Sure thing." Remy nodded amiably and raised his hand in a motionless wave to see him off.
"Do you think he believed us?" Ororo asked, her lips barely moving with the words as they watched the man in the plastic mackintosh inch his way carefully back down the stretch of slick mud.
Remy looked over at her, his face a picture of confidence, "Why not, hien? Univ'rsity Prof's always prance aroun' nearly naked, chère." He deadpanned, then took his sunglasses off and moved away from the door. Ignoring his 'witty' quip, Ororo stayed for a moment longer until the man had disappeared into the mask of rain and darkness. Once he had gone she turned and closed the door behind her.
*
"Dis should help." Remy said as he spread out a huge six foot by five foot map of the area they needed to get to onto a fold-out table they'd found in one of the utility cupboards. The map had been hanging conveniently on the wall and had been marked with various coloured tacks, indicating the various spots in which endangered forest species were known to congregate and breed. But they'd all been removed without a second thought.
Both dried, fed and dressed the pair of 'renegade' X-Men stood at either end of the table from each other, silently surveying the map; the size of the area they were searching and sheer magnitude of the task really hitting home for the first time. They were facing scouring an area that was well over five hundred kilometres wide, looking for the resting place of something that probably only spanned a mile if that. They weren't even sure what they were looking for looked like or in what kind of place it rested. If ever the term 'looking for a needle in a haystack' had been deemed appropriate to apply to a situation, it was most definitely this one.
"This could take us weeks." Ororo sighed, rubbing the back of her neck with her right hand as she rested her other on her tilted hip.
"Hmm." Remy made a despondent noise of agreement. "Now we away from pryin' eyes, yo' sure yo' can't fly us close t' it?" He asked as he looked up at her from where he was leaning forwards over the table.
Ororo shook her head, then backtracked a little by announcing, "I may be able to fly us some of the way but...it would be impossible to navigate accurately from the air. We need to follow the paths, as far as they go, detailed on this map as best we can. The forest canopy is much too dense for us to do that from above." She stared down at the map wearily, "Besides..."
"Besides wha'?"
She took on a look of being vaguely perturbed, "Ever since we got here this evening I have been trying to attune myself to the local biosphere, but..." She shook her head and looked up at her friend, her hand dropping from her slender neck to rest on her other hip, "The forest...it is so...powerful. It literally creates its own atmosphere---its own weather system. This jungle is such a force in and of itself that I do not think it will bow, even for a Weather Mistress." She spoke her often-called term of reverence with the utmost modesty and perhaps a little sarcasm too. "Not for any length of time at any rate---I must admit that I feel exhausted simply being here."
Remy descried her for a moment with an air of concern. It wasn't like Storm to concede that something had got the better of her. "By foot it is den chère." He said gamely and then took his attention back down to the topographic map for a time. The he went over to his backpack and retrieved the wooden flask with the old map in and brought it back over to the table. He was about to open it but stopped just short of taking the lid off, weighting it up in his hand instead. It felt somewhat heavier than it had before. Taking off the top curiously he wasn't too surprised when something heavy dropped out with a muted thud onto the table below. He recognised what it was instantly.
"What is that?" Ororo asked as she leant in closer to look at the small black object with a tuft of something light protruding from the top of it like a shock of straw hair. She had an inkling as to its nature but asked anyway.
Remy picked the carved piece of charred wood up as he placed the tube down. He issued a knowing and softly exasperated sigh. "Jesus Mattie-yo' evah give up?" he shook his head at the object and then smiled. "It a Voodoo charm," he turned it around in his hand as if examining it, "she always slippin' dem to me whenevah I go dere." He threw it over to Ororo; she caught it deftly with one hand. "She say she done wit' dat black magic crap, but sometime' she jus' can' 'elp herself."
"To keep you from harm?" She inquired as she looked over it in a similar manner to Remy.
"Oui chère," He picked up the smooth flask and took out the Spanish map, "Dat no' t' say dey work t'ough."
"Well have you ever come to harm whilst having one about your person?"
"Non." He admitted reluctantly as he put the parchment flat on the vast spread of glossy paper. "Bu' dat don' mean shit Stormy."
"Of course it doesn't." She said airily as she placed the small figure down next to her, still looking interestedly at it.
But the way she said it prompted him to ask, "What' yo' mean by dat?"
"What do you mean, 'What do I mean?'"
He eyed her suspiciously with dark eyes, giving her a slight grin from beneath hanging locks. "Ohhh---don' try an' lay dat one on me girl."
"What?" She positively exuded false innocence.
"Reverse psychology." He replied flatly, as if it were obvious; which it was. She quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him and he took his attention back down to both of the maps, picking up a pencil that he'd put on the table moments before, ready and waiting. "Comparin' de position on dis map t' dese modern co-ordinates, we need t' get roughly 'ere." He circled the most likely location of where the symbol was indicating.
Ororo stepped in closer and surveyed the area he'd marked. "The last of the known trails ends a hundred miles outside of that area." She observed quickly, running an extended figure in a trace over Remy's rough circle.
"Oui chère-from dat poin' we find our own way blind, but hey," He looked over at her where she'd adopted the small slouching stance over the other side of the table, "if de Sahara an' Antarctica didn' get us, den why should dis, hien?"
She blanched a little at his 'gallows humour' and then gave him a mildly chastising look as he grinned at her from the shadows outside of the spotlight of bright fluorescence that poured down from the metal shaded light bulb directly above their heads. Then, the look slipped a fraction, swiftly replaced by one of seriousness. "Look, I'm sorry 'Roro."
"What for? The comment was not in that much bad taste."
He gave a small shake of his head and straightened from the table, "Non, not fo' dat, fo' what I did-nearly did." He corrected after a pause.
"There really is no need Remy." She smiled; her slow, serene smile that never failed to make him feel good. "It is forgotten already, my friend." If only that were true...
"So, no 'ard feelin's?"
"Absolutely none."
"Good." He said, more than a little relieved and then reached down for the maps on the table. Folding each one separately, he went over to where his bag was rested, on the laboratory bench and tucked them safely inside. Making sure the several straps on it were secured good and tight, he picked it up and placed it down near to one of the beds instead; the bed that was at the other end of the room, widthways, from where Ororo had put hers. Sitting down on it so that it sagged slightly in the centre, he pulled off his fresh T-shirt and then swung his legs up onto it (his boots already having been taken off earlier). "We head off at firs' light." He stated casually as he cupped his hands beneath his head and closed his eyes. But not in an effort to sleep it seemed.
Ororo said nothing, going over to the door and flicking off the main light switch, the bulbs dying down with a mellow fizz, and then went over to the bed she'd staked a claim to earlier. Taking her bag from it, she laid down immediately still fully clothed save for her boots.
"Mon Dieu-it damn hot." Remy grumbled wearily to himself as he began to feel the dull press of the heavy, sultry air on his tanned skin, ghosting it with a light, glistening sheen of perspiration, "...too hot even fo' dis Southern boy, I t'ink." He muttered as an after thought, shifting on the scratchy top blanket that was uncomfortable as hell and obviously army surplus in origin. Taking one hand from behind his head he rested it on his bare, hairless chest as it went up and down with his fairly shallow breaths. There was far too much humidity in the air for deeper ones. After a time of listening to nothing but the pounding rain and the start of some soft, baritone rumbles of distant thunder, Remy opened one eye, lifted his head up just slightly and peeked a look at the other side of the now dark room. "Yo' still awake?"
"No."
He took the hint and faced back forwards, closing his eye as he moved his head a couple of time on the palm of his hand, finally settling into a satisfactory position. "Bon nuit chère."
"Good night." She replied barely above a whisper, but she wasn't tired and her eyes where wide, wide open, looking up at the bug-speckled window above her. All she could see was the relentless drive of the sheet rain on the black backdrop. But further illumination would come soon...she could feel it. She let the rapture of the rain and wind mesmerise her for a time, until another sound over took it; that of Remy's rhythmic breathing as he finally settled into a restful sleep---sounding massive in the stillness of the room.
She let her mind drift for a while but couldn't stop it from latching onto something eventually. The way he'd looked at her, or hadn't as the case may be as she'd taken her wet trousers off. It was strange, because there was something more potent in the fact that he'd diverted his gaze than if he'd gawped at her brazenly. The man wasn't ashamed of casting his connoisseur's eye over any woman whether they be lover, friend or stranger. The one thing she'd never seen him do was actively shy away from doing so. The fact that he had done that oddly enough made the fact that his gaze could be potentially...sexual, all the more obvious. She'd never had reason to entertain the idea before and now her head was positively spinning with confusion from the mere thought of it. But maybe she wouldn't have been considering any of this if it hadn't been for what had come before it.
She sighed and her flawless brow creased slightly; that near kiss had subtlety altered everything. In a way that Ororo found distinctly...disquieting. But sifting through the ragged pieces of the day in her mind it was only now, with the company of the wild weather as her lullaby, that she was beginning to admit to herself why. Having spent the whole day being alternately angry with him for doing it and then more annoyed that he wouldn't acknowledge the fact that he'd even done it until earlier, she was only now beginning to recognise what the other feeling in her really was.
It was regret.
She regretted it; she regretted it terribly. Not what Remy did, not the close feel of him, with that familiar musky tobacco scent, his soft, spicy cologne, the warm brush of his lips on hers with a painfully delicate reverence...No, it wasn't that-she regretted pulling away from him...and even more so that he'd allowed her to without contest. Maybe it was just curiosity getting the better of her, who knew...
Swallowing down a lump that had formed in her throat, her ocean eyes focused softly as a streak of blue/white slashed the night sky like a dagger with a loud crack of a whip.
-TBC-
Very grateful again to everyone who reviewed, it is always great to here from you and inspired me to get this chapter done. And an extra special thanks to Aimee Belle.
Chapter.8.
After half an hour or perhaps longer outside on the veranda, Remy finally came back in doors. He presumed that more than enough time had passed and that Ororo would be fast asleep by now. As he entered the living room the smell of spent candles and incense hit him despite the fact that the door that led outside had been left open; some elements of its thick perfume still clung to the atmosphere in great, almost visible swathes. From outside, a fresher shade of citrus sky lit the small room up, giving it the same gentle tone as the candles had. He glanced down at 'Tantie, surmising quickly that she was still in slumber too. Moving his tall, sleek frame with swift ease across the longue, he was only stopped abruptly when a scratchy voice called out to him from the sofa.
"Yo' two." The words were uttered with slight bemusement from the old woman still laid beneath the thick throws-come-blankets, like they were some kind of private joke. She shook her head, her creased eyelids still firmly shut as she repeated, almost to herself, "Yo' two."
"What's dat 'Tantie?" Remy did an about turn, moving over to the sofa and bending down onto his haunches at her side.
"Yo' two," She repeated for the third time as if he should be perfectly aware of what she was talking about, opening her eyes finally she continued, intoning quietly. "yo' too blind t' see it."
"See wha'?" He said with a vaguely nervous laugh, wearing a look of confusion on his handsome angular features.
'Tantie tried to sit up; leaning her weight on her thick forearms and pushing backwards. She managed to get her back leaning half-way against the cushy arm of the settee behind her, but then gave up, deciding that she was comfortably enough where she was. Once she'd ceased her fidgeting she fixed Remy with a look that was at first inquisitive, her brow furrowing as she studied him, but quickly turned 'school-ma'amish' as she asked, seemingly out of nowhere, "Has evr'yt'in' yo' been t'rough taught yo' nuhddin?"
Remy stared at her, truly perplexed by now. He pushed himself forwards, going from balancing his body weight on the balls of his feet to kneeling down at the edge of the rug. "Remy ain't got de slightest clue wha' yaw talkin' 'bout." He gave that laugh again; short and unsure, accompanied with a quick jerk of his shoulders.
"Exactly!" She exclaimed, her voice becoming inadvertently shrill, cutting through the gentle silence. Clenching her hand into a ball so that just one stern, 'accusing' finger pointed out, she lightly jabbed it to Remy's toned right shoulder, punctuating each word with the gesture as she reiterated, "Yaw---too---blind." Leaning back then, she tilted her head to the side and regarded him with a sympathetic yet somehow chastising smile, the sort that mothers are prone to.
"Yah, I'm blind." Remy simply agreed, a little caustically, "Remy don' understan' yo' but I agree, chère." He was too tired and too distracted to find out what the hell this latest 'Tantie Riddle' was all about as she tapped his arm playfully for his sarcasm. She had rather an annoying habit of lapsing into speaking at crossed purposes at times. Sometimes it was best to just concede that whatever she was saying was right even if you didn't understand it. It saved a lot of hassle in the long run.
After regarding him wordlessly for a while longer, Mattie slowly moved her podgy, aged fingers up to cup Remy's face, absently brushing her thumb through his dark, dense stubble. "Why didn' yo' come an' tell 'Tantie?" She asked, her voice sounding oddly meek.
Once again the goal posts had moved and she was off on another tangent but this time Remy caught her meaning instantly. She was intuitive about such matters and it didn't surprise him for one moment that she had recognised that his bio-kinetic powers were missing. He fought off a frown, glancing quickly downwards before meeting Mattie's concerned eyes once more. "Wha' de point chére?" He said flatly, "Mah powers---dey gone. Dere ain't no point mopin' ov'r somet'in' I can do jack-shit 'bout." He shrugged, feeling oddly philosophical about the whole subject.
"Watch yaw mouth boy!" She chided for his expletive, never-the-less with a smile on her lips. Remy simply cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her his boyish grin, the kind he used to give her whenever she'd caught him up to no good, like raiding her drinks cabinet with Etienne at thirteen, or getting discovered smoking in the cellar with Bella when they were fourteen. She patted his cheeks affectionately before taking her hands away and pulling at her make-shift blanket, hitching it that little bit higher about her chest. "I know yo' okay---yaw a survivor, 'ave been since yo' were dis big." She made a gesture of size with her hands, indicating the small form of a baby. "But dat don' mean I can' worry 'bout yo'." Reaching out, she quickly stroked a hand over his hair that had gone flat with the balmy air; the sunlight picking out the keenness of the reddish colour from the darker elements.
"Dere's no need 'Tantie." He smiled reassuringly as he could, which for him was an action that could be effected with consummate ease. "Remy's fine--- yo' don' need t' concern yaw self ov'r 'im. What yo' do need t' be doin' is lookin' aft'r yo'self." He glanced over his shoulder at the table. "Stayin' up all nigh' in dis heat, fawnin' ov'r yaw bits o' clay ain' gonna do yo' no good girl." She gave him a sly look for his cheek over her devotion but said nothing. "I mean it," he said, becoming serious this time, "De las' t'ing I wan' is fo' yo' t' get ill---stuck out 'ere, all on yaw own."
"But dat's de point Remy," She practically whispered, her eyes going over his shoulder to gaze upon the serene face of the Virgin, set in her pale blue hood. "I ain' nevah alone."
Remy held a vaguely sceptical look but didn't let it pass on to Mattie, for he knew how much her faith meant to her. He'd never belittle her for it, whatever his personal, more sober views on the matter were. "Whatevah---yo' jus' take care, hien?"
"I will." She promised, heartened by him, "I will." Remy made to get up from the ground, but 'Tantie then asked, "As long as yo' promise me somet'in'?"
He winced a little on the inside, thinking he knew what she was going to ask of him. But he had to go; he couldn't back out of this now. "Wha'?"
"When yaw chance fo' happiness comes along yo' grab it, yo' grab it wit' both hands boy," So, it wasn't what he had expected and they had once more slipped back into the realms of the cryptic conversation. But he still listened intently. "Don' waste yaw chance...yo' deserve it mah li'le angéllique garçon." Remy huffed at that, not accustomed to being compared to heavenly bodies instead of those that dwelled below, but then smiled at her good-naturedly. "An' I know yaw gonna go to de Amazon and get dat t'ing, no matter wha' I say." She continued, suddenly a little reproachful, but only through love. "But jus' be careful---heck, wha' am I sayin', 'course yo' gonna be fine! Yo' got dat beautiful femme wit' yo'."
"Oui." He said softly, prompted by the mention of her into a quiet whisper.
"She a good one Remy," She nodded her head vigorously as her eyes fluttered closed again, "Mattie saw dat right away. She noble...an' true."
"She was a Goddess ya know," Remy replied somewhat sardonically, "---well, kinda."
"I can tell." She said meekly but happily and then just like that she seemed to slip off into sleep once more, her worn but proud face holding a kind of relaxed contentment.
Remy sat by her side for a little bit longer before getting up again, slowly, as not to disturb her. He manoeuvred across the room then with a deft lightness befitting of a skilful thief, avoiding all objects in his path. In no time he found himself standing at the arched entrance to the room that was at the back of the one he was in now. Leaning on the frame, crossing his long legs over at the ankles he gazed upon the slim sleeping form that lay gracefully on the bed.
Mon Dieu...the woman could even manage to sleep elegantly. He began to appreciate for the first time the easy pleasure of observing her from this vantage point. He'd more often than not be curled up next to her whilst she slept, only ever giving him chance to take her in in that intimacy, not really getting the chance to appreciate her fully, as now. He had to admit, he was perhaps a little in awe of her. A sliver of the bright morning beamed down in a thin shaft through the thick velveteen curtains, highlighting tiny white particles of dust that danced about the room like miniature fairies. The pale light fell upon her body that rested above the sheets of the bed instead of beneath them. She was bent slightly at the stomach, her long thighs going down diagonally and then her strong calves going diagonally in the other direction; her knees together, like an arrow pointing. His eyes slowly travelled up the landscape that was her, stopping briefly at the slight exposure of her flat stomach before continuing up her bare arm, making him think of the silk feel of that warm chocolate skin beneath his fingers. He followed its length all the way up to the curve of her shoulder, the line of her collar bone clearly visible, taking in all the detail, delaying the moment that his gaze would settle on her face.
With time his dark eyes lifted that extra distance, falling with a painful twinge onto her beautifully smooth features; her eyelashes so long that they brushed her cheek as she slept. Her nose, he'd always found one of her most delectable physical traits, perking upwards, just slightly, at its softly rounded tip. Then there was her mouth...her mouth. He couldn't avoid it any longer. Remy swallowed down hard as he looked at it finally; its pout at the corners and its warm, soft feel...its touch he'd felt a thousand times, but he had to ask himself now; had he really ever touched it? His casual kisses were ten-a-penny, but what he'd almost let happen earlier...he could kick himself as he thought about it now. What the fuck had he been thinking? Well, that was the problem right there; he hadn't been. Drawing his long fingers over his eyes, he pinched them together at the bridge of his hard, straight nose. He held them there for a moment he yawned; small and stifled with a short gasping sound. Tiredness, he reasoned with himself, that's what it was. It had been a hectic night after all, really quite emotional too if he thought about it. Exhaustion and the need to be close to someone he could depend on had caused him to do what he did. In fact, it could almost be consider a reflex action, he jested with himself, trying to keep things light. Running the hand that had been at the bridge of his nose over the bottom half of his face, he settled upon that as the explanation, being content to be easily convinced by it.
Feeling a little better for that, Remy looked upon Storm with fresh eyes. The shaft of light was gradually growing greater, fatter and longer, throwing more emphasis on the 'dance of the fairies' and the tall sleeping beauty that they frolicked around. A Vermeer painting he'd once seen in Delft came to his mind as the sharp sunbeam played on her curves, throwing every supple limb and expanse of skin that wasn't covered with black cloth into a stunning relief of light and dark. Noble... 'Tantie had called her, noble...and true. Remy couldn't think of two other words that would describe the woman that lay before him better. But he could think of one more, another perfect adjective to fit her like a glove...breathtaking. Simply breathtaking...
For a moment his reasons to convince waned, his resolve began to creek beneath his veneer of reason. She stirred, and her lips parted a little, letting out a soft moan as she shifted her head on the hand that it lay on and he felt his chest tighten and his stomach do likewise. No, this was tiredness, he told himself again---it was time to get some discipline back. The best way to start that would for her not to be in his view, and so he pushed off the doorframe without so much as another stolen glance at her and went back into the room where Mattie lay in sleeping peacefully. Standing roughly central in the room for a moment, his hands in his pockets, he looked at a loss as to what he could be doing now. Sleep had suddenly and rather swiftly been expelled from the equation. Then he had a brainwave. Going back out onto the veranda swiftly, he came back in seconds, swinging his large dark mocha duster up and on. He then headed quickly but quietly out of the room and out the house.
* * *
The flat metal bottom of the gold plated wine goblet scrapped lazily at the rough wood of the table as Thierry Mauvais ran it round in the traces of circles. His eyes held a dark, far off look...brooding. He took hold of the stem with a firm grip and brought the wide rimmed top to his mouth, throwing back the last of the blood red wine that had nestled in its pit. He brought the goblet back down with a loud slam which briefly dissipated the discontented murmurs of the room, all eyes turning onto him as he sat alone at the far end of the table. But the low chatter started up once more as Thierry grabbed up the deep green wine bottle and refilled his glass and gold goblet, letting great waves of the red liquid slosh around, nearly spilling over the finely cut rim. But he paid it no mind, his eyes still fixed on that elusive point of nowhere.
"Thierry?---A word mon ami." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jean- Luc coming down from the other end of the table and taking up the vacant chair next to him. He didn't look up at him, delving instead into his wine, taking two or three great, greedy gulps.
Jean-Luc gripped at the edge of the seat of his chair between his legs, squatting above it for a moment whilst he pulled it closer to the table. "So, what yo' t'ink o' all dis."
He took another massive mouthful; his Adam's Apple moving up and down most prominently as the acid liquid went down the hatch. The bottom of the goblet banged loudly again as it connected with the table. "I don' like it." He turned and fixed Jean-Luc with a determined stare. "I don' like it one bit. Dat boy---."
"I know wha' yo' t'ink o' Remy, an' I don' need t' here it again." Jean-Luc interjected sternly. "I was askin' yo'---as mah Chief Advisor---wha' yo' t'ink o' all dis."
The sandy haired man nodded slowly as he looked absently at the half empty wine bottle in front of him, for a moment putting his hatred aside and trying to mull over things in his head. "It don' seem righ' Jean." He took his gaze back to his close friend and leader, "Since when do t'ose Guild's get in cahoots wit' each uddah." He shook his head then, his light eyebrows creasing downwards, "Dis feel like a set up---good an' proper."
"But who?" Jean-Luc thought for a moment, "Lopez seemed t' be de ring leader but dat's too obvious---he wouldn't o' set up de meetin' if he was the one settin' us fo' a fall, y' know what ah'm sayin'?"
"Yo' t'ink someone' pullin' de guy's string's?"
"Mebbe." He replied darkly.
"What 'bout de others homme?" Thierry pushed himself up in his chair and turned to face Jean-Luc fully; one arm resting on the table, the other elbow high and leaning on the tall back of the chair. "Dey can't all be havin' dheir chains yanked---dheir no' dat stupid."
"Non." Jean-Luc conceded and then paused thoughtfully, "But dey got somet'in' up dheir sleeves mon ami---I can jus' feel it."
Thierry absently began to drum his fingers on the table, the metal of his gloves making a tiny tapping sound instead of a low bass beat. "What happens when he bring' de Carcoccia to us? What den?"
"Dey be waitin' fo' us, an' we take it to dem."
"Where?" He asked shortly, "'Ere in Nawlin'?"
"Oui." He shared his friends scepticism; a feeling that was apparent on his face and in the tone of his voice.
"An' our share? What we get out of all dis?"
Jean-Luc laughed sardonically, his head dipping to the side briefly, "I t'ink de deal is dey get de booty---we get t' keep our Guild...an' our lives."
Thierry took his arms from the chair and the table, crossing them over his chest; his broad, strong body becoming visibly stiff with coiled anger and utter indignity. "Dey t'reaten us?"
"No' in so many words but," Jean-Luc pursed his lips, his brows raising slightly, "let's jus' say dat de implication wuz dere," he nodded like he was confirming his own words, repeating, "it wuz definitely dere."
The other man huffed with bitter laughter; sharp and cruel. "An' dey wan' us t' trust our fate t' de one man dat betrayed us worse dan anyone---nice touch." Jean-Luc didn't say anything to that one. Not wishing to be drawn into a debate on the matter, though thinking that one was probably unavoidable. "Mon Dieu," he exclaimed in breathless annoyance, "Dat Lopez bast'ard sure knows 'ow t' put a man over de barrel." His fists clenched against the magenta plate over his chest unbeknown to him.
"Now Thierry," Jean-Luc said cautiously, "Don' yo' see? Dat's why he chose Remy. He be hopin' if he don' get t' destroy dis Guild, we'll do it from de inside out instead-tear ourselves apart." His face become hard and serious, "We can't let dat 'appen mon ami."
"I know Jean," he leant forwards slightly, his arms still crossed though the tension had dropped a little from his posture, "I'll try an' put dat aside, fo' yaw sake if nuhddin' else but dese boys," He took a swift glance to the men sat at the other end of the table, "An' uddah members o' de clan- --dey won' be so easy t' convince. Dere are people in yaw own Guild dat still want yaw boy dead mon ami. 'Ow yo' gonna stop dem, hien?"
"Ah'm not." Jean-Luc stated quietly, "Yo' are." Thierry regarded his leader for a moment, cocking his head to the side as his arms came down from his chest slowly, seemingly of their own volition. But before he could utter a word in protest, Jean-Luc said, "Tomorrow," then he remembered the time, "later today, I wan' yo' t' call a meetin' an---explain t'ing's to dem."
"What t'ing's?" Thierry growled through his drawl.
"One bruise...one scratch," He started slowly, "One hair on 'is head is touched durin' dis," His eyes became as black as night, their usual emotionless look forged with extra steel, "An' dat t'ief will answer t' me. Yo' understand dat?"
"Oui."
"Good." Jean-Luc nodded, his eyes returning to normal as he pulled back, unaware that he'd gradually started to lean forwards as he'd issued his warning. "Den yo' go tell dem now," he looked at the men down at the other side of the table, his cadre, as they pretended to be paying the no attention. Still with his eyes on them he said, " an' get dem t' spread de word-I wan' ev'ry thief in dis city t' know. Remy ain't t' be touched."
"Oui." Thierry stated simply again, his strong jaw tight. Scrapping his chair back he daren't have looked at Jean-Luc for what he might have said to him. So before his restraint broke he went over to the others to inform them of this latest decree.
* * *
Ororo woke up feeling even more groggy than before she'd fallen asleep. She sat up on the bed, swinging her long legs over the edge, her bare feet hitting the hard floor. Running both her hands through her short hair, she let them go all the way down until they came together at the nape of her neck, threading the fingers of each hand through the other. It was very bright in the room by now, the dark velveteen curtain having fallen open a little, creating a now wide shard of sunlight to illuminate the room. Everything was quiet except for the fact that the dawn chorus had become a full on concert now that the day had begun in earnest. She stood up from the bed, rubbing absently at an itch in the near corner of her left eye, simultaneously taking away the thick blur that impaired her sight.
Walking into the living room she scanned the area quickly. There was only 'Tantie Mattie asleep on the sofa and the same disarray of cushions and such as there was last night. She dipped into the kitchen, just ducking her head in but there was no-one in there and when she checked the veranda there was nobody out there either.
"By the Goddess Remy LeBeau." She seethed to herself in a hissing whisper, "If you have left without me, I'll---." She scrunched her hands into small fists, unable to think of an adequate threat to cry out to the ether. Taking one or two paces back and forth she suddenly bolted for the door, and went right outside the house. Squinting her eyes against the sun at the same time as shielding them by putting her hand above them like a visor she looked out down the dirt path that led up to 'Tantie's house cutting a safe passage through the potentially dangerous swamps. The place was deserted; she couldn't see another soul in sight. So, the only course of action left to her was to go back into the house, grab her boots and leather jacket and then head to where they'd stashed the X-jet and hope that it was still there.
But as she turned to go back into the house a familiar voice called out, "Stormy! What'cha doin'?"
Ororo turned back around, but did so at a normal pace, not wanting to appear over anxious. "Where have you been?" Like she needed to ask; it was obvious from what he had in one hand and slung over his back, hanging from one shoulder.
"We be needin' supplies fo' our jungle adventure mon chère," he quirked her a wicked grin as he finally came right before her, throwing down the backpack that he'd held in his hand down to the ground for a moment. "I jus' called in a few favours t' get dem, dat's all. Why?"
Ororo remained quiet for a moment, her eyebrow raised in a defensively haughty way. She couldn't help herself though; she was feeling a little foolish for having to admit that she thought he'd bailed on her. Plus recollections of the veranda were hitting her keenly now that he was here in the flesh. "I thought you had gone Remy."
"Wit'out yo'?" He pretended to look offended at the suggestion, "Nevah." He gave her that grin again and then picked up the rucksack he'd rested down on the dirt yard and made his way past her with a small wink.
For some reason that annoyed the hell out of her more than the fact that she thought he'd left her behind. She felt her cheeks flush with a temporary heat because she knew why his casual manner was getting her pissed and was embarrassed to admit it t herself. He was acting like nothing had happened earlier that morning. Although she knew that she should be grateful for that, even she, the great, cool Goddess of the X-Men could succumb to being fickle at times. Guess she was only 'human' after all, she thought to herself dryly. After waiting for him to disappear back through the door she followed him in with a casual stride and her arms folded over her chest.
* * *
Hours later, Santa Maria das Barreiras on the Araguaia river, Central Brazil...
Ororo waved her hand nonchalantly in front of her face to shoo away four particularly persistent flies as they buzzed about in her immediate vicinity. Giving up with all pretences at subtly, eventually she put a bit of force into her effort, carrying the unsuspecting flies away on a short but strong gust. A few gasp of surprise went up around the immediate area at the bus station (a dusty patch of ground on the outskirts of the city) as the crowd were taken by surprise by a sudden wind that came from nowhere and disappeared there too. Remy gave her a knowing smile and chastising look from behind his slim dark glasses; pointing out with that simple look, their need for discretion. She turned away from him as if something off to her left had suddenly caught her attention, not wanting to show him good- natured smirk that was fighting for control of her lips. And so they continued to stand in silence among the other people waiting for the twice daily bus that drove out to a small township forty miles outside San Maria das Barreiras, deep in the rainforest.
They looked unassuming enough, like a pair of back-packers that visited such outposts all the time, still wearing the combats and black T-shirt get- up but sans their heavy jackets. The big bulky khaki rucksacks with all their supplies in were strapped safely to their backs and they were both sporting shades and sun hats. Nobody gave them a second glance. The X-jet had been stored safely and this time somewhat more legitimately at a small private airfield on the west side of the city. There was no way they could have flown it to roughly the destination they were looking to get to---the jungle was simply far too dense. So now they were waiting for a bus out to the township that nestled on the Xingu river; one of the many off-shoots of the mighty Amazon.
There was a huge milieu of people waiting, some returning from trying to sell produce, still carrying fruit, vegetables of all varieties and some still with some live stock still in tow---chickens, lamb and in some cases small goats. There was even a man with a great hefty brown and pink pig that had just shown up, joining the back of the disjointed 'queue'. But mostly the people there were workers and families having spent the day in the city for whatever reason.
A distant rumble started from down the hill, just out of sight which never- the-less caused the chattering mass to become more pronounced as they all started to move forwards.
"Looks like dis is our ride 'Roro." Remy said quietly beside her as he peered over the dark haired heads easily, at the noise trundling up the hill towards them, as of yet still unseen. Then the front vender came over the top of the mud mound, roaring furiously and shooting out worrying jets of steam.
As the ancient yellow bus sped the last stretch, halting to a gear-grinding stop Ororo eyed its rusted body work and hanging metal panels, noting the thick stench of burning rubber and petrol fumes. Leaning over as if to whisper, but over the din of the engine and the people clamouring to get aboard the untrustworthy mode of transport she found herself having to shout into Remy's ear, "Are you sure you do not wish me to fly us as far as Xingu? I am sure I could manage to get us that far at least."
Remy chuckled and leant in to her in turn, and reminded her, "We meant t' be blendin' in chère. Flyin' women carryin' men ov'r forests ain't really gonna help, hien?" He cocked an eyebrow at her above his dark shades. She narrowed her eyes in return and then smiled as the bus doors clatter open and the entire crowd began to shuffle forwards and board the death-trap-on- wheels.
Gambit stuffed his bag onto the rack above the seat where Ororo had sat, then reached down as she passed him hers and put it up there too. She scooted over on the chair, pulling herself across the smooth, worn lino seat covering via her grip on the iron handrail on the top of the seat in front. As soon as she'd set herself up next to the window, she half stood up again and yanked down the siding window pane. The bus was not yet full and already it was unbearably stuffy---the heat out here was twice as thick as it had been in New Orleans and they hadn't even entered the rainforest proper yet. Storm was doing all she could to regulate her temperature but the humidity was making it fairly hard to concentrate on anything never mind such a delicate manipulation as that. Overriding nature wasn't always as effortless and easy as she so often made it appear. Sure the odd quick, short gust of wind could be done with the minimum of effort, but good old Mother Nature had a marked tendency to fight back.
"Yo' good?"
Ororo turned from the window quickly, like he'd snapped her from a daydream, "Yes---there is just no air in here, that is all." He smiled and was about to reach over and put his arm around her but didn't. Though he caught himself in time, or so he thought; Ororo could read him like a book and sensed the aborted movement. But she didn't betray as much, turning her face to the window again to look out over a sea of vibrant luscious green as the doors shut noisily again on the dangerously overcrowded bus. The engine screamed in protest as the driver began to pull her back out onto the road.
*
Taking his wide-rimmed, wicker weaved hat from his head, Remy absently began to fan himself with it as he felt little beads of sweat running from the nape of his neck and down the back of his close-fitting T-shirt. They'd been on the bus for close to two hours and barely a word had passed between the pair. Even in the X-jet on the long trip down here, conversation had been preciously scarce; reduced to passing each other figures on their altitude and such. She'd seemed spiky ever since he'd returned to 'Tantie's this morning and he had to be honest---it surprised him that she'd react that way to one moment of indiscretion...only near indiscretion at that. They hadn't actually kissed...not really. He'd never seen her give him the cold shoulder as much as this and over something so petty. The more he thought about it, the more it agitated him and the more it agitated him, the more he got silently frustrated...
He turned and looked over at her, doing it in such a away that even with her head turned to the window there was no way she could have failed to have noticed the action. And notice it Storm did but she wasn't in the mood to have it out with him on a rickety bus packed with strangers, whether they could understand English or not. She continued to look out of the window regardless as clouds drew together in a tight dark knit overhead above the tall trees and rain began to spit down in dribs and drabs against the lower half of the window. Closing her stunning eyes, she quietly relished the feel of the light specks flying in through the still open window, warm on her skin. The road seemed even more rough and bumpy when she'd blacked everything out from her sight; the bus being practically tossed down the narrow path as it hit every log, every fallen branch, every pothole and stone-come-boulder. But even so, she found a strange pocket of peace for herself as the incessant noise of squawking chickens, bleating lambs; the squealing of that brown and pink speckled pig, laughter and chatter in a foreign tongue fell away...
Remy gave up and faced back to the front again, shifting obviously so that he disturbed the back support of the seat. He placed his hat back on and then after a moment remembered that the other reason he'd taken it off apart to use as a fan was because it scratched awfully at his forehead. So he took it off again and placed it on his lap.
"Remy, will you please stop fidgeting?"
He looked over at her darkly; she was still facing the open window with her eyes closed as best he could tell. After a long stretch had passed since her words, he said out the blue, trying to keep his voice light, "Are yo' gonna say somet'in' or are we gon' spend de whole trip like a pair o' mutes?"
"What would you like me to say?"
"Well, fo' a start, yo' could look at me when yaw talkin' t' me."
Ororo did face him then, trying to look him directly in the eye but the shades blocked her path, whilst she had removed hers long ago. She had a hint of a smile on her face, something he hadn't expected. "You know, you sound just like a teacher." She teased and then made to turn back to the window but stopped short when he said;
"I guess all dis cold shoulder shit is cause o' what 'appened at Mattie's." He said, sounding accusing this time; his timbre low and really quiet harsh.
Storm faced him sharply then, turning her entire torso in his direction. "Me giving YOU the cold shoulder?" She retorted with a breezy...measured indignity, as only she could effect, "I was not the one trying to pretend like nothing happened."
"De only reason Remy said nuhddin is coz he didn' t'ink yo'd wanna talk 'bout it chère."
"So you thought going about like everything was hunky-dorey would make it go away?"
Remy laughed inadvertently, but quickly stopped himself. He'd never heard her use such a throw-away expression as 'hunky-dorey' before. Then he thought seriously for a moment; this was getting blown up out of all proportion and it didn't need to be made an issue out of if they didn't want it to be. He opened his mouth, about to bid her to let it lie, when he realised that they had an audience. "Bonjour mah petit."
Ororo looked at him in confusion until her attention was pulled to the seat in front of them where on a little girl was staring at the pair from over the back of the chair, sat in between two adults. Her big mahogany eyes looked up at them both as her chubby hands clung to the steel hand rail and her mouth rested on it. Taking her mouth away from pressing against the cold hard steel she smiled shyly at them and then quickly leant back down against it. "What yaw name mon chèrie?" He asked despite the fact that he knew she probably couldn't understand him. Sure enough she didn't answer but she did smile against the metal bar though. Then Remy did something that could have been a little risky but what the hell, he was sure the little darling wouldn't kick up a fuss. He put his finger to the side of his glasses and dipped them slightly so she could see his eyes. Hers widened in surprise at first but it wasn't fearful, moreover a look of wonder. Remy grinned, gave her a wink and pushed his glasses back up again.
Storm smiled at Remy and then down at the sweet little Brazilian girl with her adorable jet black pig tails hanging down at either side of her round coffee coloured face. It just went to prove what she had been saying to him back at the mansion; he was great with kids when he wanted to be. Then she watched as he took his sun hat from his lap and proceeded to place it on the girls head. "Dere yo' go li'll one." She let out a small giggle as it drowned her tiny head, making her push it back so she could see. "It suit yo'." He told her earnestly, "Remy only looked like an' idiot in it anyway." She had no idea what he was saying but she laughed never-the-less. And Ororo did too. Any immediate tension dissipated there and then.
* * *
Township on the Xingu river...
"...where did you find this place Remy?" Ororo shouted over the din of the pelting rain.
Remy continued to concentrate on the delicate business of picking the rather complicated lock on the research station that sat just at the top of the hill from the rest of the mud hut village, half submerged in the trees. "I did a li'll diggin'." He called back. Despite the fact that he was stood beneath the wooden awning the rain was hammering down horizontally, hitting hard at his back.
"You were a busy little bee this morning."
"Hien?" He briefly looked over his shoulder at her, but his skilful hands never stopped working.
"Nothing." Ororo looked around briefly, she was meant to be on look out but it was pitch black out here and only the immediate patch of ground close to the cabin was visible. Plus the rain was like a thick sheet too, making it almost impossible to see through. They wouldn't have heard or seen anything even if there had been somebody approaching.
"Hey, can't yo' do somet'in' 'bout dis damn rain?" He hollered to her, "Makin' it 'ard to concentrate." His wet hand suddenly slipped from the lock, undoing most of the hard work he'd already done. "Fuck it." He muttered viciously.
Ororo shone the torch she was holding onto the patch of ground just down the steps, noting that it was rapidly turning into a mudslide out there. Then she moved the torch's strong white beam onto the lock and came to lean against the door at Remy's side. "Would you like me to try?"
After several whispered Cajun swears directed at the lock, he shook his head, "Non, Remy's....got it! Yes!" He hissed in quiet triumph. The lock popped open and he swung the door inwards. But to their shock and dismay an alarm squealed at them as soon as they stepped over the threshold. "Fuck!" Remy quickly flicked a light switch on, several halogen spot lights clicking into life overhead, and located the alarm box quickly. Pulling down the Perspex panel that guarded it he began tapping away methodically. This should have been a doddle.
After a few seconds he was almost there, he could feel he was about to crack it, seven or eight codes away perhaps when Ororo said, "Remy move."
"I almos' got it chère." His fingers continued working away with sharp rapid clicking as he used his free hand to push back his soaking bangs.
"Move!" The way she bellowed the word, this time he just stopped what he was doing and stepped aside. Ororo came closer, a blue tinged white ball of light fizzling around her right hand as her eyes swirled with milky white. She held her hand up to the small rectangular box and several miniature shots of lightening sprang from the ball. With a cracking sound the box burst into fits of sparks and the ear-piercing of the alarm ceased immediately.
"Lacks a certain...subtlety, but hey," Remy grinned at her; lopsided and effortlessly charming, "it got de job done."
Ororo pursed her lips to keep from smiling as she moved into the room, shrugging off her heavy rucksack as she went. "Did you not think," She began as she placed her pack on a camp bed in the corner of the room and then turned back around to face him, "to check and see if a research station, that has---," she cast her eyes over all the computers and equipment in the vicinity, "millions of dollars worth of technical equipment would not have an alarm system too?"
Remy shrugged and grinned again as he too pulled off his rucksack, "Guess I fo'got t' check dat small detail."
She rolled her eyes at him, "Hmmm---I guess you did."
Taking off her wicker hat and squeezing out the small amount of water her hair had managed to soak up, Ororo looked around the room. There wasn't all that much in there in truth, just two work stations with computers on them and a satellite phone, and then a lab bench running across the wall at the back, set up with microscopes and sinks. Next to it there were a couple of extremely expensive looking pieces of equipment but what they were for, she knew not. Three camp beds with thick coarse looking blankets were set in rows just behind her. Sitting down on the bed where she'd put down her rucksack, she asked, "What is this place for?"
"Groups come up 'ere ev'ry now an' den, doin' research int' local flora an' faunae, I t'ink." He peeled his soaking black T-shirt off and then twisted it, wringing out all the rainwater it had managed to soak up, letting it splash down onto the wooden boards underfoot without a care. "Didn' really look int' it. De place was empty fo' a couple o' months wit' de rainy season---dat's all I cared 'bout."
"Rainy season? Have you not noticed?" She quipped rhetorically as she took off her leather jacket that she'd had the good sense to take from her bag and put on earlier when they'd got off the bus to the torrential downpour, saving her from the worst of it, "It is almost always raining here---I think they are better off counting the dry seasons instead. They do not call it the rainforest for nothing."
"V'ry funny." He replied dryly as he looked up at her whilst pulling a fresh T-shirt from his bag, but his eyes quickly dropped back down again when he saw her peeling off her wet combats, revealing endless shapely legs. It wasn't like he hadn't seen them a thousand times before, but...
"Remy? What is wrong?"
"Nuhddin, why?" He still wasn't looking at her as he folded out a plain white T-shirt and pulled it on quickly.
"You just looked---." There was a furious knocking on the door that startled them both. They looked over at the door, then at each other and then back to the door.
"Hello?" A man's deep voice called from the other side of the thick wood. "Hello? Is there anybody there?"
"Merde." Remy muttered to himself and then held his hand out to indicate that Ororo should stay where she was as he walked cautiously over to the door. There was no way they could get out of this without facing whoever it was on the over side. Time for some spiel he supposed. "Who is it?" He called, close to the door, effecting an all-American accent flawlessly.
"The local Police Warden." Came the reply, with slight impatience. Remy flashed Ororo a mischievous smile as he quickly glanced at her whilst she simply splayed her hands and hitched her shoulders as if to say; I don't know, you think of something.
Remy took his shades out of his pocket and slipped them on and then without further ado, yanked the door open and faced the sopping wet warden with a personable smile. "Hello." He offered out his hand in greeting.
The warden took it but definitely looked suspiciously at him and then into the room whereupon he caught sight of Ororo. "What are you doing here? The last group of scientists left three weeks ago---this place isn't meant to be occupied again until December." His accent was thick but his English was perfect.
"Yes, I know but my colleague and I received a research grant quite unexpectedly and came up here at the last minute. We didn't have chance to phone anyone ahead." The lies simply rolled of his tongue without so much as a glitch or a stumble.
"Where from?" He pressed. Remy was convincing but not so convincing that it didn't warrant further questions.
"I'm Professor Chester Johnston from the University of Wisconsin and my colleague here is Professor---."
"Professor N'Dare Achmed, University of Cairo." Ororo strode over to the door, holding her hand out confidently in greeting, only remembering at the last moment that she was only wearing her vest top and a pair of extraordinarily skimpy black knickers. Very professional. Remy folded his arms across his chest and then brought one hand to rest over his mouth in a stance that said he was thinking, when in fact he was simply trying to prevent himself from bursting into laughter at the look of surprise on the wardens face. "We are sorry we turned up without warning." She carried on regardless.
"No-no problem." He turned back to Remy, "Something wrong with the alarm?"
Remy took his hand away and drew in an accidentally sharp breath, "Yes." He looked briefly at the partly melted and still smoking box, prompting the warden to poke his head through the door and crane his neck around to look at it, "Urr, short circuit." Remy told him somewhat sheepishly.
The warden looked at the pair, apparently satisfied that they seemed genuine enough. "If you need anything, just come down into the village and find me Or my house is the next one down the hill from here."
"Sure thing." Remy nodded amiably and raised his hand in a motionless wave to see him off.
"Do you think he believed us?" Ororo asked, her lips barely moving with the words as they watched the man in the plastic mackintosh inch his way carefully back down the stretch of slick mud.
Remy looked over at her, his face a picture of confidence, "Why not, hien? Univ'rsity Prof's always prance aroun' nearly naked, chère." He deadpanned, then took his sunglasses off and moved away from the door. Ignoring his 'witty' quip, Ororo stayed for a moment longer until the man had disappeared into the mask of rain and darkness. Once he had gone she turned and closed the door behind her.
*
"Dis should help." Remy said as he spread out a huge six foot by five foot map of the area they needed to get to onto a fold-out table they'd found in one of the utility cupboards. The map had been hanging conveniently on the wall and had been marked with various coloured tacks, indicating the various spots in which endangered forest species were known to congregate and breed. But they'd all been removed without a second thought.
Both dried, fed and dressed the pair of 'renegade' X-Men stood at either end of the table from each other, silently surveying the map; the size of the area they were searching and sheer magnitude of the task really hitting home for the first time. They were facing scouring an area that was well over five hundred kilometres wide, looking for the resting place of something that probably only spanned a mile if that. They weren't even sure what they were looking for looked like or in what kind of place it rested. If ever the term 'looking for a needle in a haystack' had been deemed appropriate to apply to a situation, it was most definitely this one.
"This could take us weeks." Ororo sighed, rubbing the back of her neck with her right hand as she rested her other on her tilted hip.
"Hmm." Remy made a despondent noise of agreement. "Now we away from pryin' eyes, yo' sure yo' can't fly us close t' it?" He asked as he looked up at her from where he was leaning forwards over the table.
Ororo shook her head, then backtracked a little by announcing, "I may be able to fly us some of the way but...it would be impossible to navigate accurately from the air. We need to follow the paths, as far as they go, detailed on this map as best we can. The forest canopy is much too dense for us to do that from above." She stared down at the map wearily, "Besides..."
"Besides wha'?"
She took on a look of being vaguely perturbed, "Ever since we got here this evening I have been trying to attune myself to the local biosphere, but..." She shook her head and looked up at her friend, her hand dropping from her slender neck to rest on her other hip, "The forest...it is so...powerful. It literally creates its own atmosphere---its own weather system. This jungle is such a force in and of itself that I do not think it will bow, even for a Weather Mistress." She spoke her often-called term of reverence with the utmost modesty and perhaps a little sarcasm too. "Not for any length of time at any rate---I must admit that I feel exhausted simply being here."
Remy descried her for a moment with an air of concern. It wasn't like Storm to concede that something had got the better of her. "By foot it is den chère." He said gamely and then took his attention back down to the topographic map for a time. The he went over to his backpack and retrieved the wooden flask with the old map in and brought it back over to the table. He was about to open it but stopped just short of taking the lid off, weighting it up in his hand instead. It felt somewhat heavier than it had before. Taking off the top curiously he wasn't too surprised when something heavy dropped out with a muted thud onto the table below. He recognised what it was instantly.
"What is that?" Ororo asked as she leant in closer to look at the small black object with a tuft of something light protruding from the top of it like a shock of straw hair. She had an inkling as to its nature but asked anyway.
Remy picked the carved piece of charred wood up as he placed the tube down. He issued a knowing and softly exasperated sigh. "Jesus Mattie-yo' evah give up?" he shook his head at the object and then smiled. "It a Voodoo charm," he turned it around in his hand as if examining it, "she always slippin' dem to me whenevah I go dere." He threw it over to Ororo; she caught it deftly with one hand. "She say she done wit' dat black magic crap, but sometime' she jus' can' 'elp herself."
"To keep you from harm?" She inquired as she looked over it in a similar manner to Remy.
"Oui chère," He picked up the smooth flask and took out the Spanish map, "Dat no' t' say dey work t'ough."
"Well have you ever come to harm whilst having one about your person?"
"Non." He admitted reluctantly as he put the parchment flat on the vast spread of glossy paper. "Bu' dat don' mean shit Stormy."
"Of course it doesn't." She said airily as she placed the small figure down next to her, still looking interestedly at it.
But the way she said it prompted him to ask, "What' yo' mean by dat?"
"What do you mean, 'What do I mean?'"
He eyed her suspiciously with dark eyes, giving her a slight grin from beneath hanging locks. "Ohhh---don' try an' lay dat one on me girl."
"What?" She positively exuded false innocence.
"Reverse psychology." He replied flatly, as if it were obvious; which it was. She quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him and he took his attention back down to both of the maps, picking up a pencil that he'd put on the table moments before, ready and waiting. "Comparin' de position on dis map t' dese modern co-ordinates, we need t' get roughly 'ere." He circled the most likely location of where the symbol was indicating.
Ororo stepped in closer and surveyed the area he'd marked. "The last of the known trails ends a hundred miles outside of that area." She observed quickly, running an extended figure in a trace over Remy's rough circle.
"Oui chère-from dat poin' we find our own way blind, but hey," He looked over at her where she'd adopted the small slouching stance over the other side of the table, "if de Sahara an' Antarctica didn' get us, den why should dis, hien?"
She blanched a little at his 'gallows humour' and then gave him a mildly chastising look as he grinned at her from the shadows outside of the spotlight of bright fluorescence that poured down from the metal shaded light bulb directly above their heads. Then, the look slipped a fraction, swiftly replaced by one of seriousness. "Look, I'm sorry 'Roro."
"What for? The comment was not in that much bad taste."
He gave a small shake of his head and straightened from the table, "Non, not fo' dat, fo' what I did-nearly did." He corrected after a pause.
"There really is no need Remy." She smiled; her slow, serene smile that never failed to make him feel good. "It is forgotten already, my friend." If only that were true...
"So, no 'ard feelin's?"
"Absolutely none."
"Good." He said, more than a little relieved and then reached down for the maps on the table. Folding each one separately, he went over to where his bag was rested, on the laboratory bench and tucked them safely inside. Making sure the several straps on it were secured good and tight, he picked it up and placed it down near to one of the beds instead; the bed that was at the other end of the room, widthways, from where Ororo had put hers. Sitting down on it so that it sagged slightly in the centre, he pulled off his fresh T-shirt and then swung his legs up onto it (his boots already having been taken off earlier). "We head off at firs' light." He stated casually as he cupped his hands beneath his head and closed his eyes. But not in an effort to sleep it seemed.
Ororo said nothing, going over to the door and flicking off the main light switch, the bulbs dying down with a mellow fizz, and then went over to the bed she'd staked a claim to earlier. Taking her bag from it, she laid down immediately still fully clothed save for her boots.
"Mon Dieu-it damn hot." Remy grumbled wearily to himself as he began to feel the dull press of the heavy, sultry air on his tanned skin, ghosting it with a light, glistening sheen of perspiration, "...too hot even fo' dis Southern boy, I t'ink." He muttered as an after thought, shifting on the scratchy top blanket that was uncomfortable as hell and obviously army surplus in origin. Taking one hand from behind his head he rested it on his bare, hairless chest as it went up and down with his fairly shallow breaths. There was far too much humidity in the air for deeper ones. After a time of listening to nothing but the pounding rain and the start of some soft, baritone rumbles of distant thunder, Remy opened one eye, lifted his head up just slightly and peeked a look at the other side of the now dark room. "Yo' still awake?"
"No."
He took the hint and faced back forwards, closing his eye as he moved his head a couple of time on the palm of his hand, finally settling into a satisfactory position. "Bon nuit chère."
"Good night." She replied barely above a whisper, but she wasn't tired and her eyes where wide, wide open, looking up at the bug-speckled window above her. All she could see was the relentless drive of the sheet rain on the black backdrop. But further illumination would come soon...she could feel it. She let the rapture of the rain and wind mesmerise her for a time, until another sound over took it; that of Remy's rhythmic breathing as he finally settled into a restful sleep---sounding massive in the stillness of the room.
She let her mind drift for a while but couldn't stop it from latching onto something eventually. The way he'd looked at her, or hadn't as the case may be as she'd taken her wet trousers off. It was strange, because there was something more potent in the fact that he'd diverted his gaze than if he'd gawped at her brazenly. The man wasn't ashamed of casting his connoisseur's eye over any woman whether they be lover, friend or stranger. The one thing she'd never seen him do was actively shy away from doing so. The fact that he had done that oddly enough made the fact that his gaze could be potentially...sexual, all the more obvious. She'd never had reason to entertain the idea before and now her head was positively spinning with confusion from the mere thought of it. But maybe she wouldn't have been considering any of this if it hadn't been for what had come before it.
She sighed and her flawless brow creased slightly; that near kiss had subtlety altered everything. In a way that Ororo found distinctly...disquieting. But sifting through the ragged pieces of the day in her mind it was only now, with the company of the wild weather as her lullaby, that she was beginning to admit to herself why. Having spent the whole day being alternately angry with him for doing it and then more annoyed that he wouldn't acknowledge the fact that he'd even done it until earlier, she was only now beginning to recognise what the other feeling in her really was.
It was regret.
She regretted it; she regretted it terribly. Not what Remy did, not the close feel of him, with that familiar musky tobacco scent, his soft, spicy cologne, the warm brush of his lips on hers with a painfully delicate reverence...No, it wasn't that-she regretted pulling away from him...and even more so that he'd allowed her to without contest. Maybe it was just curiosity getting the better of her, who knew...
Swallowing down a lump that had formed in her throat, her ocean eyes focused softly as a streak of blue/white slashed the night sky like a dagger with a loud crack of a whip.
-TBC-