Tedabug, Yellowdragon fly, Tania, Aimee Belle -you're all stars!!
Poussin= Chick
Chapter.9.
Somewhere deep in the Amazon rainforest, Central Brazil...
"Give me yaw hand chère." Remy was insistent this time around as he reached his rough palmed hand down in Storm's direction. With a look of resignation she took it; the muscles of his arm tensing, becoming much more defined as he helped her up onto the ridge of the steeply inclining jungle floor. They'd been ascending up this suddenly mountain-esque terrain for close to an hour now and still the top looked to be nowhere in site, though by now it was most probably quite close. It had been the toughest part of their three day journey so far. Their legs were lost in vegetation as it reached almost three feet high, skirting about their waists; rough tangling vines and broad sharp edged leaves. Dense, coarse; flowing with the saccharine yet bitter assault of sticky sap, the environmental remnants of which sat distastefully on the tips of their tongues, no matter how much water was drunk to wash it away, or what they ate.
The days had proved to be gruelling, no matter their stamina, physical strength or battle-hardened determination. As Ororo had predicted, the jungle was a law unto itself for the most part---unyielding and unforgiving. Though she had managed to take them a fair way, along on the crest of a cooler northerly wind coming in from the far away Atlantic Ocean and they sailed for a fair while on its strength, aided considerably by Storm of course. But after a time the force of the thick growth that blanketed the earth below trying to claim the ethereal entity for itself plunged her into a losing battle and their inability to navigate from their lofty position forced them, a day into their trek, to take to land...
And so here they were, two days later, pulling and fighting their way, practically on their hands and knees, up the side of this gargantuan hill that seemed to have no end to it; boots sinking into black marshy mud. But they had decided to take this arduous path as they had surmised that it would be the quickest way to get onto the last of the recognisable trails on the research station map that they had 'commandeered'.
"Almos' dere girl." Remy exclaimed with a breathless optimism as they continued up the vertical slope, training his eyes on the hole in the trees at the top that had finally come into view, from which brilliant light shone down; the rest of the hill being dowsed in a deep green shade that sometimes appeared blue when eyes became to accustomed to its gloom. They grabbed at random tufts, yanked and heaved, eventually clamouring their way to the meagre summit in the sweltering forest. Once there, they were finally able to stop for a while; standing up straight for the first time in over an hour and slowly getting their breath back. But that hard earned breather was almost struck from them again as they cast their eyes over the spectacular view---what it meant for the mammoth size of their quest forgotten for a moment.
The raised ground they now stood on, banked by thick, textured trees, sloped down again just as steeply and then splayed out into an ocean of green. It rose and fell like a vast unmade bed, pockets of acrid green here, soft, mellow sap green there and then deeper clusters of an almost black nature. This spectacle went on forever into the distance and one would think that to reach the end of it would be to fall off the edge of the earth itself...The sky stretched out above in an endless plane too, the clearest cerulean blue that has ever been seen. Not a mark or patch to scar its enchanting serenity. Only the presence of the bright white orb that burned a whole in the sky and shimmered with its own able fire...
Remy slacked his shoulders and let his back pack slide off his cinnamon tanned arms. Setting it down at his front, he unzipped a side pocket and took out the 'borrowed' map, folded into a neat rectangle of the immediate area that they were trekking through. He held it up in front of him, studying it carefully. They were currently above the area marked Pará on the map, standing atop of a blue line on the terrain. Placing the map back in the bag, he raised his hand to his forehead to shield against the sun as he looked out over the jungle canopy and then down the incline that they needed to navigate down to get onto the path he'd provisionally marked out.
"Where to now?" Ororo asked; the only sound in the world at that moment, her dulcet voice.
Remy sighed as he continued to look down the thickly covered muddy slope, not relishing the task of tentatively edging their way down it---it would take another hour at least, perhaps longer. "We go straight down chère." He pointed and then swatted at a large green bug that landed on his forearm. It flew away.
"Maybe if we follow this ridge along there will be a better way down?" She looked down to where he was. It seemed much steeper than the one they'd just struggled up---practically sheer cliff face, dotted with the thin trunks of new trees amongst the vegetation.
"Non," Remy shook his head and then turned to Storm, "It put us miles off course, an' add an' extra couple o' hours onto de journey." He looked down again, "We go down." He insisted.
"If you insist." She said with mock trepidation and then without further recourse for thought she stepped down onto the first part of the slope, making sure she had a firm foot hold and taking hold of a thick, sticky root to ease herself down.
Remy watched her go at first, pulling on his rucksack again and then he had a bright spark---it wasn't an idea, calling it an idea would belie it with a certain amount of intelligence. No---this was one of Remy's 'don't-think- of-the-consequences-and-hope-it'll-turn-out-alright' moments of insane inspiration. "Heads up girl! Yo' got no sense o' adventure?"
Ororo looked up at him in surprise and confusion, "What are you--."
"Dere is a quicker way t' de bottom." With that, he launched himself down, skidding along on his back, using his rucksack as some kind of sledge.
"REMY!" Ororo cried out with shock as she watched him disappear through the foliage. She only had seconds to think of what the hell to do next but in the end, gut instinct took over and she followed suite---loosening her tightly held grip on the plants around her and letting her body fly into free fall.
The world around her turned into a gyrating blur of green and brown, mixed with far off occasional glimpse of bright blue. She felt the sting and whip of tall stems lashing her skin as she skidded down, feeling she were picking up pace as she went along, speeding at a hundred miles an hour, or so it seemed. Every now and then she'd shoot through a space that was already cleared; snapped and bent roots to the left and right, following in Remy's path. Over the thundering noise in her ears of her falling, and her automatic hollering---sometimes she'd catch Remy's shouts through the confusion; a roaring laughter in the rapid motion. It felt like it would never end as she closed her eyes to the chaos around her and simply let herself glide...
Remy reached the bottom with a thump, pitching forwards and miraculously almost finding his feet---but not quite miraculous enough as he was propelled forwards, skipping and tripping, only to land face first in a bed of mossy green. "Huhoouff!" The sound was forced from his chest, pushed up his throat and punched from his mouth as he lay spread-eagled on the soft, moist ground. A piercing cry and squawk of birds went up around him as he settled in the shaded nook; rattling the canopy of trees above his head as on-mass, a flock of bright Macaws flew off from their surprise intruder. He looked up just in time to see the last few flashes of bright red, blue and gold zip through the green and off into the mostly hidden sky. Then he let his face collapse back down to the floor again, grateful for the cool wet of its surface as the sting finally hit every inch of his body. "Man, dat was fuckin' stupid." He muttered to himself and then burst into a muffled laughter, his body shaking against the jungle floor.
*
Storm opened her eyes as she neared the foot of the hill, her gaze catching the white and black of Remy's clothes, just being able to make out that he was turning his body over to watch her speedy descent. Hitting the bottom, her body pitched forwards in a similar manner to her comrade's, sailing through the air and landing just across from him in the small glade-like cusp of trees; having not the time to summon even the smallest breeze to break her fall or soften her landing.
Remy gathered himself together enough to push his body up onto his elbows, still laughing a little through his harsh breaths as he looked over at Storm, slowly turning herself over onto her back a little way from him. "Wild ride, hien?" He jested and then flopped back down onto his back, exhausted.
Ororo struggled half up and grabbed a chunk of the first thing that came to hand; wet moss and a clump of straggly grass that came from the earth by its root. "You stupid idiot!" She cried at him as she lobbed her slap-dash ammo in his direction.
He simply raised a hand and batted it away as he laughed even more, closing his eyes to the trees above as his head rested back down once more.
"It is not funny!" She shouted at him as she tried to move, only for her weak and adrenaline fused body to be dragged back down again by the weight of her mud caked backpack. So she settled for a moment on hurling insults from where she lay; her velvet voice raising to a not often heard level. "Do you intend to kill us both before we are done here?" She shouted in true anger, making Remy laugh even more, "Stop laughing Remy!---that was not funny!" But even as she said the words and despite meaning every ounce of their intended venom, her voice cracked into laughter too, "Stop it!" She laughed and then the floodgates opened and she couldn't stop herself. Letting her body roll from its side to lay flat on the floor neither of them could move for a few moments more---their mirth racking through their aching bodies more than the pain for now. It felt so good to let go...for both of them.
After a time they both calmed, forcing themselves to sit up and sort out the disarray caused by their foolhardy shortcut. "Ev'ryt'in' still in tact chère?"
"I think so---just about." She replied as she removed several twigs and leaves from various places about her body. Leaning forwards she felt something uncomfortable pulling at the front of her top. Reaching down into it, she wasn't too amused to find a soggy clump of weeds had found its way down into her bra. But holding it in her hand the energy and mischievousness of the moment over took her.
"Hey!" Remy called as the wet mass hit him on the side of the head with a dreadful splat, accompanied by the wonderful sound of Ororo's low, warm chuckle. "Remy's gon' get yo' fo' dat." He warned playfully as he snidely felt the ground on the other side of his body from her and picked up a chunk of his own sloppy armoury.
"You just try it Monsieur." She laughed as she watched his hand creeping--- ducking deftly, just in time to see it whizzing past but what she didn't count on was the second barrage seconds later. "Argh!" She yelped joyfully as a cold splatter hit her partially turned back as she tried, in vain, to shield herself from it; connecting with her neck and slipping down her shoulder until it settle between the bag and her skin. "Ohhhh!" She moaned as she attempted to reach it but couldn't quite get.
"Awww---what wrong 'Roro?" He asked with mock sympathy, "Yo' can dish it out but yo' can't take it?!" He grinned at his friend as he stood up from the mossy earth and started towards her.
"Oh, shut up and give me a hand." Her attempts to reach the uncomfortable clot failed. Moving her hand away she sat still as Remy kneeled down behind her and scooped up the mess, throwing it to the side. The feel of his hand brushing against her skin was different than before...She moved forwards quickly and started to stand up. Remy followed suite, rocking back on the balls of his feet and then pushing up, wiping the crap off his hands on the thighs of his trousers as he did so. "Check my pack, will you?" She asked coolly, "Make sure it has not ripped or been damaged."
Dutifully, Remy stepped over and did as she asked. "Non chère---it fine."
Without a word, Ororo went around the back of him and checked his over too. Apart from an insignificant tear on one of the pockets and a good covering of mud, his was passable as well. "We should carry on." She said as she started off, following the ragged line that a small stream was cutting through a line of huge trees behind them, their toffee coloured trunks the size of houses. "It will be dark in two hours---and I think the rain will start again soon." She gave a quick glance toward the heavens, despite its clarity up there at present, what they could see of the sky from down there, the distant buzz of the rains presence sparked through her body like muted pins and needles; a deeply buried itch that could not be scratched.
Raising his forearm, he wiped it across his forehead; sweltering even beneath this protective shade of millions of leaves. He decided there was only one thing for it. Disengaging himself from his pack for a moment, Remy quickly pulled off his wet and dirty white T-shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his combats like a mechanics rag. It was way past noon, and they were out of direct sunlight, so he thought he'd be safe to go without it.
"Stormy---wait up!" He called to her retreating figure, slowly getting lost in the mass of heavy rainforest. Taking one last look around at the small glen, he went after her.
*
It almost appeared like perpetual darkness when travelling through the thick growth of the upper region of the Amazon basin. Not a black darkness of night but one all of its own that existed neither in day nor night. The canopy above only afforded the merest splintered rays of light to filter their way through to the ground; bright shards that gave off the appearance of dappled sunbeams shinning through the stained glass window of a grand cathedral---and what cathedral could be more grand than this one created by nature herself? The forest was peculiarly absent of wildlife during the daylight hours. There was of course the odd shuffle of a land dwelling creature, unseen beneath the undergrowth, the shrill communication of small black spider monkey's as they threw themselves carelessly from tree to tree, sure of their safety, no fear of death. It was the birds and insects that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once---invisible but marked out by their twitter and clicking buzz.
As of yet the rain had not come and the light that managed to slip through the trees was now as red as the sky above , creating a positive kaleidoscope on the greenery. Night would fall soon but they could take comfort that much progress had been made. The pair forged forwards, hacking away with the machetes---the other items they'd taken from the station, along with the second map and a Davey lamp. Remy was in front now, leading the way, making large, potent, controlled swipes at the tall thick stemmed leaves that had blocked their path for the past hour. He stopped for a moment, Ororo coming to a rest close behind him, letting the wide blade fall to the side, touching lightly against his leg with its flat. With his other hand he unhooked his water canteen from the loop on his belt and flicked the cap off with his thumb. Tipping his head back, he took a greedy gulp, the cap on a string banging quietly against the metal casing. Taking it from his lips eventually he made a satisfied noise and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yo' want some?" He turned to the side and held the dull grey container out to Storm, even though she had one of her own.
She declined with a small shake of the head. "Not yet, thank-you." She looked at him carefully, noticing the flushness in his face, a dusting of red beneath the caramel tan that had got noticeably darker as the day had gone on---even under here, in the protecting shade. "We should rest for a while." She told him then, watching a fat clear bead run down the side of his face and drip from his bristly jaw.
"Non, we should push on a bit further chère," He recapped the rounded bottle and hooked it back on at his hip and looked up at the 'ceiling', "Befo'e we lose de ligh'."
Ororo shrugged off her backpack and threw it to the floor, flattening down some of the tall stems. She sat down on her makeshift mat of leaves and looked up at him brazenly. "We are stopping---besides, it will rain soon."
Remy looked up again, a sceptical look on his face as he wiped absently at another large salty bead. "Don' look like it gon' rain t' me." He said, unconvinced as he looked back down at her.
Storm gave a low laugh and one of her slow smiles as she leant back, supporting herself on the turned down palms of her hands. "You are doubting my weather report?" She raised a perfect eyebrow with the mock indignity of it all making Remy grin his devilish grin. "The weather can turn on a six pence out here my friend---I should know." She glanced around, surveying the immediate area but it was clear from her eyes that her mind was somewhere far, far from here. "It is just like the Savage Land." She added quietly, almost contemplatively.
Remy sniffed, conveying his indifference as he joined her on the floor, inwardly glad of the rest on a physical level but mentally wanting to continue---sitting around gave him too much time to think and that was something he distinctly wanted to avoid at the moment. There was far too much bouncing up there for his liking. Hacking away mercilessly at poor defenceless plant life that blocked their path succeeded in circumventing that quite nicely indeed.
"Okay, five minu'es---dat's all."
"Agreed." Ororo said as she laid back against the relative coolness of the ground, resting her eyes for moment, her hands settling atop of one another over her flat stomach. The silence that passed between them no longer felt awkward but had thankfully turned back into their familiar comfortable acquaintance. Though the 'kiss' was by no means forgotten by either party. If only it were that easy...
Remy's dark orbs fell onto Storm's body like they had back at 'Tantie's when he'd observed her quietly from the safety of the doorway. But this time he was much closer...close enough to touch. He swallowed down, suddenly feeling the need to grab for his flask again. If only it had something a little stronger in it, he thought drolly---even a cigarette would do at this moment in time. But rather stupidly, he'd come all the way out here and forgotten to bring a single one and the chances of finding a convenience store were...well, somewhere in the region of minus zero to minus a billion and numbers infinitely beyond. He ran his hand through his thick hair, pushing it back from the fringe down. It was so damp and heavy with a days hard trekking that it stayed there instead of flopping instantly back down as it usually did. It was no use though---no matter what he did to draw his eyes away they were pulled back like the opposite poles of magnets, incapable of resisting.
He had to admit to feeling a certain sense of dismay with himself as he traced the flat dip of her belly from beneath her cotton top, raising slightly where the hollow of the ribcage began, those long soft hands clasped together lightly just above that. Up and up...up to the gently rising and falling curve of her breasts. He tore his eyes away before that sense of dismay turned into a sense of disgust with himself instead. So, it was still there, he thought, that nagging, new feeling that had began when he'd watched her sleeping on that bed, surrounded by the dance of fairies in the bathing light. He'd thought, or perhaps hoped that after the good nights sleep and spending the last three days concentrating on abstinence and training his mind to think of other things, that he'd got over those crazy thoughts. But as he looked at her now he came to realise that he hadn't they were still very much there. Why had he lost his head out there on the veranda? Why had he let himself do this...?
"Remy LeBeau, yaw a damn fool." He muttered softly under his breath; the sounds barely forming on his tongue. But at this moment in time he could not tell himself why he was a fool. There were two possible options---and both of them scared the hell out of him. Perhaps it would be best just not to think about them at this point. He could deal with them later. Without warning the small amount of light above changed, the red filtering out, turning to a puce---a colour Remy had never seen the sky turn before as he faced upwards, studying it through the intermittent gaps.
It came hurtling down, its trajectory straight as an arrow; the teardrop of clear, all on its own---a courageous Private ahead of the coming army. Remy closed his eyes just before it hit, hearing keenly the splash as the single drop of rain exploded against his cheeks. Cold and fresh. He looked down at Storm as she lay there, already anticipating her reaction; her captivating bright eyes still shaded by deep lids but the smile upon her full lips said everything.
Remy opened his mouth to make a crack about not being smug in the correctness of her prediction but the words were halted on his tongue when the deluge hit; hard and fast.
Ororo didn't even make an attempt to protect them from its barrage, simply getting up from the ground and hoisting on her bag. "We should find somewhere to shelter for the night." She called to him over the pounding sound of the rain. Taking her machete blade from her belt, she took over the lead, cutting through the growth, sensing that Remy was close behind her.
"Yo' not gon' say, 'I tol' yo' so'?" He asked in an obviously feigned stroppy voice.
Ororo glanced quickly over her shoulder at him, never stopping at her task as she gave him a short warm smile. "I do not need to!" She just caught his sarcastic sigh through the swift, unceasing beating that resounded all around them and it made her chuckle.
*
It was only a few minutes before they came across somewhere that would be sufficient for their needs; up a small rock encrusted embankment there was a fairly flat space of earth beneath a gigantic tree that rose so high that it almost could have not ended; its summit scrapping the outer atmosphere. The ground around it was an interval of unhindered, practically black soil, like it had been charred by a ferocious heat, though in truth all of the forests fertile clay was the same tone. As fast as they could, the pair erected their abode for the evening and whatever nights hence; a simple sheet of khaki tarpaulin, suspended from three guyropes. The longest one was attached to the gnarled, aged bark of the huge tree that provided much in the way of shelter in itself, whilst the other two brought the waterproofing down in a pyramid shape, making taut attachment to the malleable earth. Fixing up and then lighting their Davey Lamp, they rolled out their sleeping mats on the bare ground beneath their thin plastic canopy and crawled inside. They turned around once in, so that they could see out, leaning up against the knobbly vine encrusted sleeping giant at their backs.
"Mon Dieu." Remy exclaimed as he ran both hands through his hair and squeezed out practically a bucket full of water. It ran over his shoulders and then continued in quick rivulets down his muscularly defined chest. "It really know 'ow t' come down out 'ere, hien?" A day had yet to go by where they hadn't suffered the onslaught of a powerful downpour.
Ororo simply gazed out at the striking horizontal lines, feeling utterly relaxed to be able to let them come and leave them to their own devises. She preferred it best when she could let the weather be what it would, without her interference. Her gaze moved back inside the shelter when Remy leant forwards and turned his bag over and started rummaging around for something. "What are you doing?" She asked quietly, her voice having taken on an inner calmness, more so than usual as she concentrated on the sensation of the rain running through her.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, "I got an idea." He reported back as he crawled on all fours towards the entrance of their tent and put whatever it was in his hand on the ground just outside of its cover.
"Another one?" Ororo remarked, "Let us hope it is an improvement on your last, shall we?" She ignored his look as he clamoured back in, tilting her head to see what he'd put out there. It was one of the oblong tin basins they'd been using as dishes. She watched as it rapidly filled with rainwater.
"May as well make de mos' o' it chère." His voice strained a little as he leant back on the mattress of harsh, untreated cotton and thin foam, resting his head in his cupped hands. "Anyway, what yo' mean, 'improvement on yaw las''," He snorted, "Got us from A t' B in nex' t' no time didn' it?"
"Yes, whilst nearly killing us in the process may I remind you." She reached down and ran the tips of her fingers over a raised and red scratch that ran down the side of his sleek torso, just above the bruise that was still faintly visible from his tussle in the Danger Room with Bobby, days ago. But her fingers hesitated just before they made contact---something which jolted her slightly, although she didn't show it; though eventually she did press them lightly to his body and traced the grainy feel of the small wound inflicted on their impromptu ride. Pulling her hand away she could have sworn she had felt his body tense as she'd touched him. She looked up at his face; he was staring absently out at the forest, his expression betraying no mark of what she thought she'd felt. Perhaps she had just imagined it in her own apprehension, their... discomfort not having disappeared altogether...
After a short time of silence with only the beat of the rain above them like it was falling on the taut skin of a bass drum in random rhythm, Remy turned to her and said, "Yo' enjoyed it dhough, didn' yo'? C'mon, admit it!" He grinned up at her with all his charm, searching her face with those dark, marble eyes. "Mebbe yo' should try lettin' go a li'll mor' often petit."
Hitching her knees up close to her body, she wrapped her arms around her shins, holding them to her as she replied, "You know full well that I can not Remy." Turning from his suddenly intent gaze she looked outside, adding, "You are aware of what happens when I do."
"Ahh, screw de weather!" He said flippantly and much to Ororo's surprise. "Yo' take t' much responsibility on yo'self, yo' know dat?" He sounded peeved now, like the subject really bothered him, suggesting that it was something that he'd thought about a lot. Which indeed it was; Remy'd watched for years as Storm was weighted with burden after burden, each one ever-so-slightly crushing the spark inside, forcing her to retreat inside of herself just to survive and her happiness be damned.
"If only it were so easy to brush it aside my friend," She sighed wistfully and perhaps a little regretfully too, "Too many years have past...to many battles have been fought..." She relinquished her hold around her legs and stretched them out, succeeding in getting comfortable against the tree at last.
"It nevah too late t' do somet'in' 'bout it girl." He smiled slightly---the quirk born of some private thought running through his mind like the smell of something long forgotten jogging the memory and renewing lost pleasures. He was thinking of their wild days. "Yo' remember Virginia Beach?" His smile turned mischievous as he inclined his head back, just enough to see her reaction, to see if she remembered too.
"How could I forget?" She effected a mortified expression, which made Remy laugh and shake his head.
"Dat poor man---'e nevah knew wha' hit 'im." He laughed again, throaty from too many cigarettes over the years, his whole body moving with the gesture, "Lit'rally!"
This all stemmed from one of their jaunts along the east coast. They'd found themselves in Virginia Beach, chasing a tip about a stolen Caravaggio hanging in some ocean-side villa, just ready and waiting to be returned to its owner in Reggio di Calabria. As the crusading thieves where awaiting nightfall to pull off their heist within its safe cover, they hung as casually as possible around the cafés on the beach front. Ororo was making much of the opportunity to practice her nimble finger dipping---into other peoples pockets that is. Unfortunately, at that time she may have been served better by practicing her power controls as she gradually became more aware and attuned to them all over again. For as one white-suited tourist strolled by, blissfully unaware that he was a marked man---the outline of his wallet pressing clearly against the back pocket of his too tight trousers---dexterous brown fingers slipped casually in to relive him of his burden. Maybe it was her lack of discipline or perhaps the rush of adrenaline accompanying her thief's sensibility---whatever it was her powers manifested themselves at the most inconvenient moment. Small sparks of electric blue bounced from her finger tips, to her utter horror, setting the man's pale slacks alight in a tiny burst of flame. The young girl was absolutely bereft, mortified and at a complete loss at what to do as the man span around in a panic. Luckily for both of them, a calm and collected Cajun kept his head, dowsing the rising flames that were by now licking at the edges of his jacket with his glass of beer. But before questions could be asked or accusations thrown he hoisted up his young companion and ran--- the cafe owner that shouted after them down the flat stretch of boulevard seeming more concerned about the unpaid bill they'd just run out on rather than what the girl had done to set some unfortunate victims pants on fire.
Ororo wiped a tear born of laughter from her left eye as she settled her head back against a protruding piece of thick vine. "I will never forget the look on that poor man's face," She said as Remy crawled to the front of the tarpaulin and retrieved the tin dish that was now brimming with fresh clear water, perfectly safe to drink. Replenishing his water canister he held his hand out for Storm to give him hers, which she did, undoing the top before she passed it to him.
"Well, I don' t'ink de homme would 'ave fo'got dat in a hurry needuh." He chuckled as his eyes concentrated on tipping the water from the corner of the tin tub, guiding it safely into the top of the flask with perfectly steady hands. "It no' ev'ry nigh' yo' get some li'll Weadduh Imp settin yo' pants on fire."
"Weather Imp?!" To that she took light-hearted exception.
"Oh, c'mon chère!" Remy laughed as he finished filling her bottle and recapped it, tossing it back over to her, "Dat's what yo' were back den an' yo' know it." He cheekily raised an eyebrow at her, "Dere won't nuhddin o' de Goddess in dat petit poussin, lemme tell yo'."
Ororo nodded in reluctant agreement, feeling slightly embarrassed at some of the things she used to get up to back then. Things that nobody else in the world knew of except for Remy and she was glad about that...not that she was too proud or regal to admit to some of the things she used to get up to in order to survive, just that he knew more about her, about what was truly inside than anyone else in the world. That was including Jean, Logan and even the Professor. It felt good to know she had that one special person...Then her musing expression dropped a fraction. "Maybe that was a good thing...not to be the Goddess."
Her slightly desolate tone made Remy stop what he was doing and look back at her. Scooting himself backwards on his mat he came up to her side and wrapped his arm around her---to hell with the way touching her was beginning to make him feel. He was always there for her as she was for him. "Goddess or li'll scamp---yo' know dis boy love yo' whichevah way he fin' yo'."
Storm let her head roll down onto his shoulder, the heat of his skin pressing to her cheek. "I know." She whispered as she stared out into the now dark forest, bringing her right hand to rest gently just over his heart, feeling it beat underneath her palm. It had turned to night outside now and this was the time that this gigantic cradle of life truly came alive. Everything that supported and was supported by this vast ecosystem seemed to come from hiding when the light faded, replaced only by an impenetrable blackness.
As he grew accustomed to the feel of her at his side, Remy breathed in deeply; the air was torrid and had a distinct smell---not of sap anymore, but the smell of rain, fresh and light. Or was that her? Beneath the sandalwood there was always a hint of something else, something wilder--- uncharted and unattainable. He moved his fingers that clasped around her bare shoulder. When he lifted them they felt sticky inside his glove. "Hey, yo' know yo' were sayin' dat bein 'ere makes it a real eff'rt to use yaw powers?"
"Yes." She replied curiously, lettin her eyes roll up to look at him.
"Den mebbe yo' should t'ink 'bout livin' near a rainforest, hien?" He jested.
"What are you going on about now Remy?"
"Den yo' won't 'ave to worry 'bout upsettin' no damn weadduh system---yo' could do as yo' please. Fuck ev'ryone else. "
Ororo laughed warmly against his chest, "You are insane you know that?" She turned to look up at him, "But you still make me happy." She added with a sincere and contented expression.
"I aim t' please ma'am." Remy dothed an imaginary cap; accompanying the motion with his best 'Southern hospitality' tone.
"Though," She began with obvious seriousness, "perhaps it would be preferable to the mansion right now."
"Oui---but yo' don' mean dat, no' really." Remy remained convinced that Ororo was only feeling a little bruised still from her earlier run in with Xavier...he was sure of that. The school and everything it stood for meant more to Storm than life itself---it always would. "Dose kids...De Dream. Yo' built yaw whole life aroun' all dat. Yo' be dragged kickin' an' screamin' bef're yo' gave dat up."
Storm tried to think of something to retort with but nothing came because he was right---it did mean everything to her. Or what would her life have amounted to? she thought on a cynical note. Letting her hand slip down Remy's damp torso she hooked her hand around his nimble yet sturdy waist, clasping just above his hip; the way in which his body tensed earlier completely forgotten as they thoughtlessly slipped into the old routine. "Do you realise we forgot to contact Charles and tell him where we are?"
"Hmph! I didn' t'ink 'bout dat at all t' be 'onest." It was the truth, he really hadn't. All thoughts of the school had gone completely from his mind until moments ago.
"We told him we would only be a day---at most."
"T' hell wit' it," He joked playfully, "Let 'em sweat it fo' a while---let 'em t'ink Stormy's no' de reliable li'll Girl Scout dey all t'ought she wuz."
"If only I could---but unfortunately I think that Girl Scout has taken a firm hold." There was definitely sarcasm in there somewhere.
Remy pulled her closer to him, bringing his left arm up so that he could envelope her totally---he too forgetting any qualms and falling into their frequent habit. "I wouldn't bet on it chère." He said slyly as he shifted about on his mat to get more comfortable, when the tip of his boot hit something hard. Peering down at the object, he suddenly remembered about them as he saw what he'd just kicked. Laying the sole of his boot flat on the dark ground, he got just the tip underneath the small, fairly flat box and with a slight jerk of his foot, flipped it up into the air. It sailed in an arch straight towards him as he took his left hand from where it had been placed, over his right on her smooth shoulder, and caught the object expertly.
"C'hards?" He asked as he waved the un-open, red backed pack of playing cards in front of Ororo's line of vision.
"Why not?" She agreed affably as she pulled back from his shoulder, releasing her hold on his waist. But as soon as she did, she found she missed the feel of it beneath her palm and the sultry warmth of his skin on her cheek...
They played for an hour or so by the light of the Davey Lamp that attracted any number of subtly busy insects, all with their own distinctive sound, but it was mainly moths; attracted by its brilliance, singeing their beautiful moon-pale wings against its heat. As they played everything from Rummy to Black Jack, they chatted about old times and recent ones too; all inconsequential, all light-hearted---just what they needed to remind themselves that they weren't just superheroes with the weight of the entire world on their shoulders, Homo Superiors, Goddess, or thieves on quests for supernaturally powerful artefacts. They were people too---just like everybody else.
* * *
Westchester, the Xavier Institute, in Cerebra...
Jean Grey-Summers removed the head apparatus of Professor Xavier's revolutionary machine; relief flooding her body to have the pressure and weight of it from her neck and shoulders. She shook her head to ease out the ghostly presence of it from her muscles, her lose red hair flailing as she did so and then placed the helmet back on to its stand. As she approached the doors of the space-age looking pod that Hank had designed, they opened automatically, sliding noiselessly into the curved walls. Reaching behind her head, at her neck, she gathered her thick straight hair up in her hands; easing off the bobble that waited at her wrist and wrapping it around the deep red mass so that it hung in a messy bun close to her nape.
The doors closed behind her with equal discretion as the red-head neared the main door of the outer chamber of the Cerebra room; quickly punching in her personal access code that let only senior X-Men in and out, each of them possessing their own whether they were telepaths or not just in case something should happen to Jean or Charles whilst they were in there. The metalic corridor was silent as the grave, it was so far beneath the Institute; lit by a series of blindingly light fluorescent tubes set into the walls on either side, close to the ceiling. It was getting late but she was fairly sure the Professor would still be up; he had some Economics and Modern Political History papers to mark and hand back to the senior class first thing in the morning. Rather uncharacteristically he'd left them until the last possible moment, but, to be fair, he had had other things on his mind. Though Jean was hoping that she could help put his mind to rest with what she'd found out---but it had raised more questions than it had answered in truth.
She reached the lift at the end of the corridor, the one that stopped more- or-less opposite Charles classroom where she thought he'd be marking his papers as he tried to keep the everyday teaching paper work out of his main office, dedicating that to the more practical matters of running the school, the two teams of X-Men and being Chairman Emeritus of X-Corps International. Staring up at the number counter at the top of the lift, she hummed absently to herself as she watched each number light up in turn, becoming a bright electric red one by one. At least concentrating on the mundane took her mind off worrying about her best friend, out there somewhere in a vast jungle. What the hell was she doing out there? Jean had been seriously pissed off at first that Ororo had not contacted the School after the first day but the anger was only out of concern. Then when Xavier had tried to locate them and failed it had only made her worse. Why on earth hadn't she contacted them? Ever since then she and Charles had been doing shifts in Cerebra in the hopes of locating the pair and it was only a few moments ago that they'd had success or rather the Phoenix had.
The lift door opened softly ending with a resounding *ping*. As she stepped out into the orange lit oak panelled hallway, a familiar, though no longer blue face, walked by.
"Hey Warren."
"Hey Jean." They both offered relaxed greetings without stopping on their respective courses, padding along the plush red wine coloured runner. Jean crossed the hall and knocked quickly on the frosted glass of the classroom door, entering the room without waiting for reply.
"I've found them Charles."
The Professor looked up from the student paper in his hand at the announcement, letting it hover for a moment before laying it back down with the others. "Where?"
Jean walked further into the classroom, her raised heals clicking on the parquet floor tat adorned all their revamped teaching areas. It was quite shadowy in the room as the Professor was only using the green shaded lamp on his desk to work by, the main lights remaining off. She took the student chair that sat haphazardly in front of Xavier's desk and settled into it, crossing her right leg over her left. "I finally tracked their signal to South America---the Brazilian Amazon to be more exact."
"Did you find out why?" He asked coolly as he brought his hands together in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk.
Jean shook her head, her hastily assembled bun almost coming lose, so that it hung in a pony tail instead. "When I finally found their signature they were both sleeping---I didn't want to invade their privacy by poking around whilst they didn't know."
"Indeed." Charles stated simply, although for once he had to admit he wished Jean had bent the rules on his strictly applied moral ethic. He'd taught her too well it seemed. "At least we know where they are and that they are safe---that is something at least."
"It doesn't stop us from being mad at them though." Jean admitted; still feeling aggrieved at Ororo's thoughtlessness. It wasn't like her, wasn't like her at all. "They must realise that we'd be worried about them." She shook her head, at a loss. "After everything that's been happening lately," She smiled, somewhat sardonically; it may have been quiet for a couple of months but that only gave them time to brood over the other events that they hadn't had the time to absorb properly or grieve for when they'd been occurring, "it's odd---we've never been more comfortable with our place in the world as we are now and yet I don't think we've ever been more vulnerable---with all this exposure."
"I understand." Charles said sympathetically.
"We've lost so many of us in such a short space of time," Jean continued, "Leyu Yoshida and Darkstar in Paris; Skin and the others, crucified here at the mansion---almost Jubilee too...on are own backyard for chrissake!" Her sometimes fiery temper flamed as she thought about it, hugging herself and rolling her eyes to the stars to stop the tears that glistened and fought to spill over. "...not to mention Genosha." She shook her head again and brought one hand to her forehead as if she hand a headache, the mere thought of sixteen million mutants perishing in a holocaust, not at the hands of human oppressors as was feared and forewarned by Magneto, but at the hands of a fellow mutant---Charles Xavier's very own twin sister. "After everything that's been going on, you'd think Ororo and Remy would have a bit more consideration that's all..." She wasn't really angry at them, just stressed and hurt.
Though he was understanding of Jean's frustration, Xavier wasn't as un- clued as to why they may not have contacted the Institute. They obviously had their reasons and he didn't think any of them had anything to do with the acrimony under which they left the other night. Whatever it was the Guild had put him up to this time---perhaps he just didn't want anyone at the mansion to know. Of course, Ororo had gone along with it too, never able to deny Remy anything. In a strange way he admired their unconditional attachment to one another.
He stood from his chair with the aid of his cane, heading for the tall filling cabinet in the corner of the room. "Now we have a lock on their position," he started as he pulled out the middle draw and retrieved a manila folder containing some source materials for the papers he was grading, "I will contact them tomorrow." The draw slammed shut with the rattling noise of metal.
"Okay." Jean agreed, though she was hesitant; she'd much preferred to speak to Ororo and Remy herself---figuring there would be less chance of a confrontation that way, with things being the way they were right now. As Charles came back down to the desk, laying the pale brown folder next to the stack of white sheets, Jean stood to leave. "Good night Charles---tell me when you're going to use Cerebra tomorrow won't you? I'd like to be there when you do."
"Of course." He smiled up at his fellow telepath and then looked back down as he opened up the file and pulled out its contents. "Good night." Without further word Jean left the classroom.
* * *
The Amazon...
Remy's eyes opened slowly, with caution against the clear morning light. High above them the entire forest exhaled, a giant veil of mist coating its top that had turned sepia and gold in the glow. He breathed in deeply, focusing on the roof of the tarpaulin that had become almost transparent with the brilliance that was so strong it reached down this far into the forest...but only in the mornings. The delicious aroma came to him again--- the clarity of rain, so uncomplicated, so true to itself...There was a weight pressed against him, constant and warm as he moved slightly. He felt it against his legs, a rounded curve nestling in the pit of his torso as it bent to form a concave, letting it sit perfectly. His strong, lithe arms contained most of the warmth, resting against his bare chest. The haze between this world and that of dreams hung over him, muting all of these physical sensations into speculation. Was this a memory of a distant, long forgotten lover in his arms, safe in the protective proximity of his body, or was this another time and place, the rainforest nothing more than an imaginative construction?
Slowly Remy let his head fall to the side, a thick bang of auburn falling heavily across his forehead. His lips brushed against a 'pelt' of downy pure white. It sparkled close to him; a diamond under close inspection, ready to be stolen. He closed his eyes again and lazily moved his head, just slightly from side to side, down into the still relatively thick hair, burying his face in it and its soft, mild scent of sandalwood that flowed over the one of rain.
It must have happened at sometime during the night, he thought to himself in the first concrete consideration to come into his mind since waking. At some point she must have come into his arms, snuggling safe, or maybe he'd pulled her into his embrace. They lay like spoons now, nestled into each others body, melding forms, curving in their middles. He stilled his head, practically ceased to breath, his hands resting over her ribcage, aware of the small groves and dips. Moving his head back from her slowly, he let his left hand come back with the motion too; skirting over her torso and coming up to her arm. Letting his fingers fold over the supple limb in a light clasp, he ran it all the way up its length, tracking its progress as it caressed every inch of coca skin. Withdrawing his other arm from beneath her body, carefully as not to disturb her, he leant up onto it as his other hand reached the gentle curve of her exposed shoulder. He peered down at it and then shifted his gaze over its arc where he could see just the side of her face, her soft expanse of cheek from this angle; the delicate fine detail of the bone beneath the perfect skin and the similar way her jaw bone pressed in defined precision beneath it, leading down to an impossibly elegant neck. Absently his thumb rubbed over her shoulder; the action taking his attention back to it in the foreground of her landscape.
Just once, Remy thought to himself, lost amongst the morning song of the birds. Just once he wanted to put his lips to that skin on her shoulder with its warm tones of amber above the duskiness like a light peppering. He continued to run his thumb over it, back and forth slowly, savouring the feel. There was no guilt in his desire to do this he realised, moreover a sense of longing. This wasn't some long buried hankering, this was a new delight---one whose presence shocked him but somewhere in his mind was no surprise at all. It felt as natural as the winds...
Ororo peeled her eyes open as twittering filled her ears and the air that was fresh from the night of rain coated her. She became aware, or perhaps she always had been, but the touch, the texture felt so right that she did not question it, of a hot gust on her left shoulder. She held herself still, waiting for the warm, moist pressure that was sure to follow. Her lips parted subconsciously as the hold of his hand became more pronounced; agile fingers dimpling the skin, touching down to the collar bone and then, finally, the contact---smooth lips. Did he know she was awake?
"Bonjour mon chèrie." Yes. The thick husky drawl washed over her like warm honey.
"Good morning." Ororo replied in a near whisper as his hold on her shoulder turned her halfway to facing him. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes instantly; her body leaning into his even more so than before. His face was shaded by his hanging hair, though still clearly discernable as hers was to him---an open book. When he looked into her eyes he did not see the clouds that she saw---to him they were as flawless and vibrant as the Caribbean. She suddenly felt compelled to touch him, cup that strong, square jaw line with a smooth palm. And that she did. The rough feel familiar yet fresh.
"Remy..." Her eyes held the question not the delicate tone.
Remy started to move his hand down to her hip; hesitating slightly, but only for a split second as he then let it trail down her side purposefully until it settled just above the protruding hip bone, exposed by the low sling of her combats.
"I t'ink Remy's as confused as yo' are 'Roro." He said, his voice like an undertone, "Needuh o' us know what's 'appenin' 'ere, it's jus'..."
Ororo felt her heart pumping a mile a minute, positive that he must have been able to hear it too; it deafened her so much. She let her hand stroke at his face, unsure of what to say next. Was this what either of them truly wanted or had loneliness and a mutual sense of dependence clouded their minds of late? She blinked in the vain hope that when she opened her eyes again everything would have dispersed like desert sands in the wind. But Remy was still there, his hand heavy on her hip...at home there. His dark eyes, with their flash of fiery scarlet held hers unnervingly---that thief's confidence and aptitude for the bluff never failing him. But Ororo knew, she could see straight through it...She finally took the breath to speak; the tang of sap on her tongue again, coating her throat, "Remy, I--- ."
A high pitched whistling burst through the sounds of the forest with a forceful distinction, causing both parties to jerk their heads in the direction of the opening at their feet. Quickly they broke apart as the sound became louder, hurtling towards them. Louder and louder until it came to a sudden and abrupt stop with a splintering noise exploding from behind them. They both whipped their heads around, startled eyes fixing on a thin length of sharpened reed with a parrot tail of bright red and green spurting from its back end.
"Blow d'art." Remy said quickly as he scrambled to his feet, reaching down and pulling Ororo up by the arm as he did so; both stood stopped in the low down tent. They exited the it post-haste, their diligence returning in the blink of an eye as they scanned the animate expanse before them.
"Can you see anything?"
"Non," Remy replied shortly, never taking his eyes from his deceiving environment; a living breathing camouflage, "But we need t' get outta de firin' range---an' now." Just as he said it he turned, intending to pull down the suspended tarpaulin, when there was a forced puffing sound from somewhere out there amongst the covering blanket of trees and ground foliage. The whistling came again, with the same impossible speed. The noise at the start warned them of its imminence but not quite soon enough. No sooner had they had that moment of hesitation, looking in the direction of the incoming dart instead of ducking for cover, slowed them down than Remy shunted backwards, almost falling into the tent.
"Remy!" Ororo gasped in horror as their attention fell on the second dart, with the same red and green tail, stuck in straight stiffness to Remy's thigh, embedded deep.
-TBC-
Poussin= Chick
Chapter.9.
Somewhere deep in the Amazon rainforest, Central Brazil...
"Give me yaw hand chère." Remy was insistent this time around as he reached his rough palmed hand down in Storm's direction. With a look of resignation she took it; the muscles of his arm tensing, becoming much more defined as he helped her up onto the ridge of the steeply inclining jungle floor. They'd been ascending up this suddenly mountain-esque terrain for close to an hour now and still the top looked to be nowhere in site, though by now it was most probably quite close. It had been the toughest part of their three day journey so far. Their legs were lost in vegetation as it reached almost three feet high, skirting about their waists; rough tangling vines and broad sharp edged leaves. Dense, coarse; flowing with the saccharine yet bitter assault of sticky sap, the environmental remnants of which sat distastefully on the tips of their tongues, no matter how much water was drunk to wash it away, or what they ate.
The days had proved to be gruelling, no matter their stamina, physical strength or battle-hardened determination. As Ororo had predicted, the jungle was a law unto itself for the most part---unyielding and unforgiving. Though she had managed to take them a fair way, along on the crest of a cooler northerly wind coming in from the far away Atlantic Ocean and they sailed for a fair while on its strength, aided considerably by Storm of course. But after a time the force of the thick growth that blanketed the earth below trying to claim the ethereal entity for itself plunged her into a losing battle and their inability to navigate from their lofty position forced them, a day into their trek, to take to land...
And so here they were, two days later, pulling and fighting their way, practically on their hands and knees, up the side of this gargantuan hill that seemed to have no end to it; boots sinking into black marshy mud. But they had decided to take this arduous path as they had surmised that it would be the quickest way to get onto the last of the recognisable trails on the research station map that they had 'commandeered'.
"Almos' dere girl." Remy exclaimed with a breathless optimism as they continued up the vertical slope, training his eyes on the hole in the trees at the top that had finally come into view, from which brilliant light shone down; the rest of the hill being dowsed in a deep green shade that sometimes appeared blue when eyes became to accustomed to its gloom. They grabbed at random tufts, yanked and heaved, eventually clamouring their way to the meagre summit in the sweltering forest. Once there, they were finally able to stop for a while; standing up straight for the first time in over an hour and slowly getting their breath back. But that hard earned breather was almost struck from them again as they cast their eyes over the spectacular view---what it meant for the mammoth size of their quest forgotten for a moment.
The raised ground they now stood on, banked by thick, textured trees, sloped down again just as steeply and then splayed out into an ocean of green. It rose and fell like a vast unmade bed, pockets of acrid green here, soft, mellow sap green there and then deeper clusters of an almost black nature. This spectacle went on forever into the distance and one would think that to reach the end of it would be to fall off the edge of the earth itself...The sky stretched out above in an endless plane too, the clearest cerulean blue that has ever been seen. Not a mark or patch to scar its enchanting serenity. Only the presence of the bright white orb that burned a whole in the sky and shimmered with its own able fire...
Remy slacked his shoulders and let his back pack slide off his cinnamon tanned arms. Setting it down at his front, he unzipped a side pocket and took out the 'borrowed' map, folded into a neat rectangle of the immediate area that they were trekking through. He held it up in front of him, studying it carefully. They were currently above the area marked Pará on the map, standing atop of a blue line on the terrain. Placing the map back in the bag, he raised his hand to his forehead to shield against the sun as he looked out over the jungle canopy and then down the incline that they needed to navigate down to get onto the path he'd provisionally marked out.
"Where to now?" Ororo asked; the only sound in the world at that moment, her dulcet voice.
Remy sighed as he continued to look down the thickly covered muddy slope, not relishing the task of tentatively edging their way down it---it would take another hour at least, perhaps longer. "We go straight down chère." He pointed and then swatted at a large green bug that landed on his forearm. It flew away.
"Maybe if we follow this ridge along there will be a better way down?" She looked down to where he was. It seemed much steeper than the one they'd just struggled up---practically sheer cliff face, dotted with the thin trunks of new trees amongst the vegetation.
"Non," Remy shook his head and then turned to Storm, "It put us miles off course, an' add an' extra couple o' hours onto de journey." He looked down again, "We go down." He insisted.
"If you insist." She said with mock trepidation and then without further recourse for thought she stepped down onto the first part of the slope, making sure she had a firm foot hold and taking hold of a thick, sticky root to ease herself down.
Remy watched her go at first, pulling on his rucksack again and then he had a bright spark---it wasn't an idea, calling it an idea would belie it with a certain amount of intelligence. No---this was one of Remy's 'don't-think- of-the-consequences-and-hope-it'll-turn-out-alright' moments of insane inspiration. "Heads up girl! Yo' got no sense o' adventure?"
Ororo looked up at him in surprise and confusion, "What are you--."
"Dere is a quicker way t' de bottom." With that, he launched himself down, skidding along on his back, using his rucksack as some kind of sledge.
"REMY!" Ororo cried out with shock as she watched him disappear through the foliage. She only had seconds to think of what the hell to do next but in the end, gut instinct took over and she followed suite---loosening her tightly held grip on the plants around her and letting her body fly into free fall.
The world around her turned into a gyrating blur of green and brown, mixed with far off occasional glimpse of bright blue. She felt the sting and whip of tall stems lashing her skin as she skidded down, feeling she were picking up pace as she went along, speeding at a hundred miles an hour, or so it seemed. Every now and then she'd shoot through a space that was already cleared; snapped and bent roots to the left and right, following in Remy's path. Over the thundering noise in her ears of her falling, and her automatic hollering---sometimes she'd catch Remy's shouts through the confusion; a roaring laughter in the rapid motion. It felt like it would never end as she closed her eyes to the chaos around her and simply let herself glide...
Remy reached the bottom with a thump, pitching forwards and miraculously almost finding his feet---but not quite miraculous enough as he was propelled forwards, skipping and tripping, only to land face first in a bed of mossy green. "Huhoouff!" The sound was forced from his chest, pushed up his throat and punched from his mouth as he lay spread-eagled on the soft, moist ground. A piercing cry and squawk of birds went up around him as he settled in the shaded nook; rattling the canopy of trees above his head as on-mass, a flock of bright Macaws flew off from their surprise intruder. He looked up just in time to see the last few flashes of bright red, blue and gold zip through the green and off into the mostly hidden sky. Then he let his face collapse back down to the floor again, grateful for the cool wet of its surface as the sting finally hit every inch of his body. "Man, dat was fuckin' stupid." He muttered to himself and then burst into a muffled laughter, his body shaking against the jungle floor.
*
Storm opened her eyes as she neared the foot of the hill, her gaze catching the white and black of Remy's clothes, just being able to make out that he was turning his body over to watch her speedy descent. Hitting the bottom, her body pitched forwards in a similar manner to her comrade's, sailing through the air and landing just across from him in the small glade-like cusp of trees; having not the time to summon even the smallest breeze to break her fall or soften her landing.
Remy gathered himself together enough to push his body up onto his elbows, still laughing a little through his harsh breaths as he looked over at Storm, slowly turning herself over onto her back a little way from him. "Wild ride, hien?" He jested and then flopped back down onto his back, exhausted.
Ororo struggled half up and grabbed a chunk of the first thing that came to hand; wet moss and a clump of straggly grass that came from the earth by its root. "You stupid idiot!" She cried at him as she lobbed her slap-dash ammo in his direction.
He simply raised a hand and batted it away as he laughed even more, closing his eyes to the trees above as his head rested back down once more.
"It is not funny!" She shouted at him as she tried to move, only for her weak and adrenaline fused body to be dragged back down again by the weight of her mud caked backpack. So she settled for a moment on hurling insults from where she lay; her velvet voice raising to a not often heard level. "Do you intend to kill us both before we are done here?" She shouted in true anger, making Remy laugh even more, "Stop laughing Remy!---that was not funny!" But even as she said the words and despite meaning every ounce of their intended venom, her voice cracked into laughter too, "Stop it!" She laughed and then the floodgates opened and she couldn't stop herself. Letting her body roll from its side to lay flat on the floor neither of them could move for a few moments more---their mirth racking through their aching bodies more than the pain for now. It felt so good to let go...for both of them.
After a time they both calmed, forcing themselves to sit up and sort out the disarray caused by their foolhardy shortcut. "Ev'ryt'in' still in tact chère?"
"I think so---just about." She replied as she removed several twigs and leaves from various places about her body. Leaning forwards she felt something uncomfortable pulling at the front of her top. Reaching down into it, she wasn't too amused to find a soggy clump of weeds had found its way down into her bra. But holding it in her hand the energy and mischievousness of the moment over took her.
"Hey!" Remy called as the wet mass hit him on the side of the head with a dreadful splat, accompanied by the wonderful sound of Ororo's low, warm chuckle. "Remy's gon' get yo' fo' dat." He warned playfully as he snidely felt the ground on the other side of his body from her and picked up a chunk of his own sloppy armoury.
"You just try it Monsieur." She laughed as she watched his hand creeping--- ducking deftly, just in time to see it whizzing past but what she didn't count on was the second barrage seconds later. "Argh!" She yelped joyfully as a cold splatter hit her partially turned back as she tried, in vain, to shield herself from it; connecting with her neck and slipping down her shoulder until it settle between the bag and her skin. "Ohhhh!" She moaned as she attempted to reach it but couldn't quite get.
"Awww---what wrong 'Roro?" He asked with mock sympathy, "Yo' can dish it out but yo' can't take it?!" He grinned at his friend as he stood up from the mossy earth and started towards her.
"Oh, shut up and give me a hand." Her attempts to reach the uncomfortable clot failed. Moving her hand away she sat still as Remy kneeled down behind her and scooped up the mess, throwing it to the side. The feel of his hand brushing against her skin was different than before...She moved forwards quickly and started to stand up. Remy followed suite, rocking back on the balls of his feet and then pushing up, wiping the crap off his hands on the thighs of his trousers as he did so. "Check my pack, will you?" She asked coolly, "Make sure it has not ripped or been damaged."
Dutifully, Remy stepped over and did as she asked. "Non chère---it fine."
Without a word, Ororo went around the back of him and checked his over too. Apart from an insignificant tear on one of the pockets and a good covering of mud, his was passable as well. "We should carry on." She said as she started off, following the ragged line that a small stream was cutting through a line of huge trees behind them, their toffee coloured trunks the size of houses. "It will be dark in two hours---and I think the rain will start again soon." She gave a quick glance toward the heavens, despite its clarity up there at present, what they could see of the sky from down there, the distant buzz of the rains presence sparked through her body like muted pins and needles; a deeply buried itch that could not be scratched.
Raising his forearm, he wiped it across his forehead; sweltering even beneath this protective shade of millions of leaves. He decided there was only one thing for it. Disengaging himself from his pack for a moment, Remy quickly pulled off his wet and dirty white T-shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his combats like a mechanics rag. It was way past noon, and they were out of direct sunlight, so he thought he'd be safe to go without it.
"Stormy---wait up!" He called to her retreating figure, slowly getting lost in the mass of heavy rainforest. Taking one last look around at the small glen, he went after her.
*
It almost appeared like perpetual darkness when travelling through the thick growth of the upper region of the Amazon basin. Not a black darkness of night but one all of its own that existed neither in day nor night. The canopy above only afforded the merest splintered rays of light to filter their way through to the ground; bright shards that gave off the appearance of dappled sunbeams shinning through the stained glass window of a grand cathedral---and what cathedral could be more grand than this one created by nature herself? The forest was peculiarly absent of wildlife during the daylight hours. There was of course the odd shuffle of a land dwelling creature, unseen beneath the undergrowth, the shrill communication of small black spider monkey's as they threw themselves carelessly from tree to tree, sure of their safety, no fear of death. It was the birds and insects that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once---invisible but marked out by their twitter and clicking buzz.
As of yet the rain had not come and the light that managed to slip through the trees was now as red as the sky above , creating a positive kaleidoscope on the greenery. Night would fall soon but they could take comfort that much progress had been made. The pair forged forwards, hacking away with the machetes---the other items they'd taken from the station, along with the second map and a Davey lamp. Remy was in front now, leading the way, making large, potent, controlled swipes at the tall thick stemmed leaves that had blocked their path for the past hour. He stopped for a moment, Ororo coming to a rest close behind him, letting the wide blade fall to the side, touching lightly against his leg with its flat. With his other hand he unhooked his water canteen from the loop on his belt and flicked the cap off with his thumb. Tipping his head back, he took a greedy gulp, the cap on a string banging quietly against the metal casing. Taking it from his lips eventually he made a satisfied noise and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yo' want some?" He turned to the side and held the dull grey container out to Storm, even though she had one of her own.
She declined with a small shake of the head. "Not yet, thank-you." She looked at him carefully, noticing the flushness in his face, a dusting of red beneath the caramel tan that had got noticeably darker as the day had gone on---even under here, in the protecting shade. "We should rest for a while." She told him then, watching a fat clear bead run down the side of his face and drip from his bristly jaw.
"Non, we should push on a bit further chère," He recapped the rounded bottle and hooked it back on at his hip and looked up at the 'ceiling', "Befo'e we lose de ligh'."
Ororo shrugged off her backpack and threw it to the floor, flattening down some of the tall stems. She sat down on her makeshift mat of leaves and looked up at him brazenly. "We are stopping---besides, it will rain soon."
Remy looked up again, a sceptical look on his face as he wiped absently at another large salty bead. "Don' look like it gon' rain t' me." He said, unconvinced as he looked back down at her.
Storm gave a low laugh and one of her slow smiles as she leant back, supporting herself on the turned down palms of her hands. "You are doubting my weather report?" She raised a perfect eyebrow with the mock indignity of it all making Remy grin his devilish grin. "The weather can turn on a six pence out here my friend---I should know." She glanced around, surveying the immediate area but it was clear from her eyes that her mind was somewhere far, far from here. "It is just like the Savage Land." She added quietly, almost contemplatively.
Remy sniffed, conveying his indifference as he joined her on the floor, inwardly glad of the rest on a physical level but mentally wanting to continue---sitting around gave him too much time to think and that was something he distinctly wanted to avoid at the moment. There was far too much bouncing up there for his liking. Hacking away mercilessly at poor defenceless plant life that blocked their path succeeded in circumventing that quite nicely indeed.
"Okay, five minu'es---dat's all."
"Agreed." Ororo said as she laid back against the relative coolness of the ground, resting her eyes for moment, her hands settling atop of one another over her flat stomach. The silence that passed between them no longer felt awkward but had thankfully turned back into their familiar comfortable acquaintance. Though the 'kiss' was by no means forgotten by either party. If only it were that easy...
Remy's dark orbs fell onto Storm's body like they had back at 'Tantie's when he'd observed her quietly from the safety of the doorway. But this time he was much closer...close enough to touch. He swallowed down, suddenly feeling the need to grab for his flask again. If only it had something a little stronger in it, he thought drolly---even a cigarette would do at this moment in time. But rather stupidly, he'd come all the way out here and forgotten to bring a single one and the chances of finding a convenience store were...well, somewhere in the region of minus zero to minus a billion and numbers infinitely beyond. He ran his hand through his thick hair, pushing it back from the fringe down. It was so damp and heavy with a days hard trekking that it stayed there instead of flopping instantly back down as it usually did. It was no use though---no matter what he did to draw his eyes away they were pulled back like the opposite poles of magnets, incapable of resisting.
He had to admit to feeling a certain sense of dismay with himself as he traced the flat dip of her belly from beneath her cotton top, raising slightly where the hollow of the ribcage began, those long soft hands clasped together lightly just above that. Up and up...up to the gently rising and falling curve of her breasts. He tore his eyes away before that sense of dismay turned into a sense of disgust with himself instead. So, it was still there, he thought, that nagging, new feeling that had began when he'd watched her sleeping on that bed, surrounded by the dance of fairies in the bathing light. He'd thought, or perhaps hoped that after the good nights sleep and spending the last three days concentrating on abstinence and training his mind to think of other things, that he'd got over those crazy thoughts. But as he looked at her now he came to realise that he hadn't they were still very much there. Why had he lost his head out there on the veranda? Why had he let himself do this...?
"Remy LeBeau, yaw a damn fool." He muttered softly under his breath; the sounds barely forming on his tongue. But at this moment in time he could not tell himself why he was a fool. There were two possible options---and both of them scared the hell out of him. Perhaps it would be best just not to think about them at this point. He could deal with them later. Without warning the small amount of light above changed, the red filtering out, turning to a puce---a colour Remy had never seen the sky turn before as he faced upwards, studying it through the intermittent gaps.
It came hurtling down, its trajectory straight as an arrow; the teardrop of clear, all on its own---a courageous Private ahead of the coming army. Remy closed his eyes just before it hit, hearing keenly the splash as the single drop of rain exploded against his cheeks. Cold and fresh. He looked down at Storm as she lay there, already anticipating her reaction; her captivating bright eyes still shaded by deep lids but the smile upon her full lips said everything.
Remy opened his mouth to make a crack about not being smug in the correctness of her prediction but the words were halted on his tongue when the deluge hit; hard and fast.
Ororo didn't even make an attempt to protect them from its barrage, simply getting up from the ground and hoisting on her bag. "We should find somewhere to shelter for the night." She called to him over the pounding sound of the rain. Taking her machete blade from her belt, she took over the lead, cutting through the growth, sensing that Remy was close behind her.
"Yo' not gon' say, 'I tol' yo' so'?" He asked in an obviously feigned stroppy voice.
Ororo glanced quickly over her shoulder at him, never stopping at her task as she gave him a short warm smile. "I do not need to!" She just caught his sarcastic sigh through the swift, unceasing beating that resounded all around them and it made her chuckle.
*
It was only a few minutes before they came across somewhere that would be sufficient for their needs; up a small rock encrusted embankment there was a fairly flat space of earth beneath a gigantic tree that rose so high that it almost could have not ended; its summit scrapping the outer atmosphere. The ground around it was an interval of unhindered, practically black soil, like it had been charred by a ferocious heat, though in truth all of the forests fertile clay was the same tone. As fast as they could, the pair erected their abode for the evening and whatever nights hence; a simple sheet of khaki tarpaulin, suspended from three guyropes. The longest one was attached to the gnarled, aged bark of the huge tree that provided much in the way of shelter in itself, whilst the other two brought the waterproofing down in a pyramid shape, making taut attachment to the malleable earth. Fixing up and then lighting their Davey Lamp, they rolled out their sleeping mats on the bare ground beneath their thin plastic canopy and crawled inside. They turned around once in, so that they could see out, leaning up against the knobbly vine encrusted sleeping giant at their backs.
"Mon Dieu." Remy exclaimed as he ran both hands through his hair and squeezed out practically a bucket full of water. It ran over his shoulders and then continued in quick rivulets down his muscularly defined chest. "It really know 'ow t' come down out 'ere, hien?" A day had yet to go by where they hadn't suffered the onslaught of a powerful downpour.
Ororo simply gazed out at the striking horizontal lines, feeling utterly relaxed to be able to let them come and leave them to their own devises. She preferred it best when she could let the weather be what it would, without her interference. Her gaze moved back inside the shelter when Remy leant forwards and turned his bag over and started rummaging around for something. "What are you doing?" She asked quietly, her voice having taken on an inner calmness, more so than usual as she concentrated on the sensation of the rain running through her.
He glanced at her over his shoulder, "I got an idea." He reported back as he crawled on all fours towards the entrance of their tent and put whatever it was in his hand on the ground just outside of its cover.
"Another one?" Ororo remarked, "Let us hope it is an improvement on your last, shall we?" She ignored his look as he clamoured back in, tilting her head to see what he'd put out there. It was one of the oblong tin basins they'd been using as dishes. She watched as it rapidly filled with rainwater.
"May as well make de mos' o' it chère." His voice strained a little as he leant back on the mattress of harsh, untreated cotton and thin foam, resting his head in his cupped hands. "Anyway, what yo' mean, 'improvement on yaw las''," He snorted, "Got us from A t' B in nex' t' no time didn' it?"
"Yes, whilst nearly killing us in the process may I remind you." She reached down and ran the tips of her fingers over a raised and red scratch that ran down the side of his sleek torso, just above the bruise that was still faintly visible from his tussle in the Danger Room with Bobby, days ago. But her fingers hesitated just before they made contact---something which jolted her slightly, although she didn't show it; though eventually she did press them lightly to his body and traced the grainy feel of the small wound inflicted on their impromptu ride. Pulling her hand away she could have sworn she had felt his body tense as she'd touched him. She looked up at his face; he was staring absently out at the forest, his expression betraying no mark of what she thought she'd felt. Perhaps she had just imagined it in her own apprehension, their... discomfort not having disappeared altogether...
After a short time of silence with only the beat of the rain above them like it was falling on the taut skin of a bass drum in random rhythm, Remy turned to her and said, "Yo' enjoyed it dhough, didn' yo'? C'mon, admit it!" He grinned up at her with all his charm, searching her face with those dark, marble eyes. "Mebbe yo' should try lettin' go a li'll mor' often petit."
Hitching her knees up close to her body, she wrapped her arms around her shins, holding them to her as she replied, "You know full well that I can not Remy." Turning from his suddenly intent gaze she looked outside, adding, "You are aware of what happens when I do."
"Ahh, screw de weather!" He said flippantly and much to Ororo's surprise. "Yo' take t' much responsibility on yo'self, yo' know dat?" He sounded peeved now, like the subject really bothered him, suggesting that it was something that he'd thought about a lot. Which indeed it was; Remy'd watched for years as Storm was weighted with burden after burden, each one ever-so-slightly crushing the spark inside, forcing her to retreat inside of herself just to survive and her happiness be damned.
"If only it were so easy to brush it aside my friend," She sighed wistfully and perhaps a little regretfully too, "Too many years have past...to many battles have been fought..." She relinquished her hold around her legs and stretched them out, succeeding in getting comfortable against the tree at last.
"It nevah too late t' do somet'in' 'bout it girl." He smiled slightly---the quirk born of some private thought running through his mind like the smell of something long forgotten jogging the memory and renewing lost pleasures. He was thinking of their wild days. "Yo' remember Virginia Beach?" His smile turned mischievous as he inclined his head back, just enough to see her reaction, to see if she remembered too.
"How could I forget?" She effected a mortified expression, which made Remy laugh and shake his head.
"Dat poor man---'e nevah knew wha' hit 'im." He laughed again, throaty from too many cigarettes over the years, his whole body moving with the gesture, "Lit'rally!"
This all stemmed from one of their jaunts along the east coast. They'd found themselves in Virginia Beach, chasing a tip about a stolen Caravaggio hanging in some ocean-side villa, just ready and waiting to be returned to its owner in Reggio di Calabria. As the crusading thieves where awaiting nightfall to pull off their heist within its safe cover, they hung as casually as possible around the cafés on the beach front. Ororo was making much of the opportunity to practice her nimble finger dipping---into other peoples pockets that is. Unfortunately, at that time she may have been served better by practicing her power controls as she gradually became more aware and attuned to them all over again. For as one white-suited tourist strolled by, blissfully unaware that he was a marked man---the outline of his wallet pressing clearly against the back pocket of his too tight trousers---dexterous brown fingers slipped casually in to relive him of his burden. Maybe it was her lack of discipline or perhaps the rush of adrenaline accompanying her thief's sensibility---whatever it was her powers manifested themselves at the most inconvenient moment. Small sparks of electric blue bounced from her finger tips, to her utter horror, setting the man's pale slacks alight in a tiny burst of flame. The young girl was absolutely bereft, mortified and at a complete loss at what to do as the man span around in a panic. Luckily for both of them, a calm and collected Cajun kept his head, dowsing the rising flames that were by now licking at the edges of his jacket with his glass of beer. But before questions could be asked or accusations thrown he hoisted up his young companion and ran--- the cafe owner that shouted after them down the flat stretch of boulevard seeming more concerned about the unpaid bill they'd just run out on rather than what the girl had done to set some unfortunate victims pants on fire.
Ororo wiped a tear born of laughter from her left eye as she settled her head back against a protruding piece of thick vine. "I will never forget the look on that poor man's face," She said as Remy crawled to the front of the tarpaulin and retrieved the tin dish that was now brimming with fresh clear water, perfectly safe to drink. Replenishing his water canister he held his hand out for Storm to give him hers, which she did, undoing the top before she passed it to him.
"Well, I don' t'ink de homme would 'ave fo'got dat in a hurry needuh." He chuckled as his eyes concentrated on tipping the water from the corner of the tin tub, guiding it safely into the top of the flask with perfectly steady hands. "It no' ev'ry nigh' yo' get some li'll Weadduh Imp settin yo' pants on fire."
"Weather Imp?!" To that she took light-hearted exception.
"Oh, c'mon chère!" Remy laughed as he finished filling her bottle and recapped it, tossing it back over to her, "Dat's what yo' were back den an' yo' know it." He cheekily raised an eyebrow at her, "Dere won't nuhddin o' de Goddess in dat petit poussin, lemme tell yo'."
Ororo nodded in reluctant agreement, feeling slightly embarrassed at some of the things she used to get up to back then. Things that nobody else in the world knew of except for Remy and she was glad about that...not that she was too proud or regal to admit to some of the things she used to get up to in order to survive, just that he knew more about her, about what was truly inside than anyone else in the world. That was including Jean, Logan and even the Professor. It felt good to know she had that one special person...Then her musing expression dropped a fraction. "Maybe that was a good thing...not to be the Goddess."
Her slightly desolate tone made Remy stop what he was doing and look back at her. Scooting himself backwards on his mat he came up to her side and wrapped his arm around her---to hell with the way touching her was beginning to make him feel. He was always there for her as she was for him. "Goddess or li'll scamp---yo' know dis boy love yo' whichevah way he fin' yo'."
Storm let her head roll down onto his shoulder, the heat of his skin pressing to her cheek. "I know." She whispered as she stared out into the now dark forest, bringing her right hand to rest gently just over his heart, feeling it beat underneath her palm. It had turned to night outside now and this was the time that this gigantic cradle of life truly came alive. Everything that supported and was supported by this vast ecosystem seemed to come from hiding when the light faded, replaced only by an impenetrable blackness.
As he grew accustomed to the feel of her at his side, Remy breathed in deeply; the air was torrid and had a distinct smell---not of sap anymore, but the smell of rain, fresh and light. Or was that her? Beneath the sandalwood there was always a hint of something else, something wilder--- uncharted and unattainable. He moved his fingers that clasped around her bare shoulder. When he lifted them they felt sticky inside his glove. "Hey, yo' know yo' were sayin' dat bein 'ere makes it a real eff'rt to use yaw powers?"
"Yes." She replied curiously, lettin her eyes roll up to look at him.
"Den mebbe yo' should t'ink 'bout livin' near a rainforest, hien?" He jested.
"What are you going on about now Remy?"
"Den yo' won't 'ave to worry 'bout upsettin' no damn weadduh system---yo' could do as yo' please. Fuck ev'ryone else. "
Ororo laughed warmly against his chest, "You are insane you know that?" She turned to look up at him, "But you still make me happy." She added with a sincere and contented expression.
"I aim t' please ma'am." Remy dothed an imaginary cap; accompanying the motion with his best 'Southern hospitality' tone.
"Though," She began with obvious seriousness, "perhaps it would be preferable to the mansion right now."
"Oui---but yo' don' mean dat, no' really." Remy remained convinced that Ororo was only feeling a little bruised still from her earlier run in with Xavier...he was sure of that. The school and everything it stood for meant more to Storm than life itself---it always would. "Dose kids...De Dream. Yo' built yaw whole life aroun' all dat. Yo' be dragged kickin' an' screamin' bef're yo' gave dat up."
Storm tried to think of something to retort with but nothing came because he was right---it did mean everything to her. Or what would her life have amounted to? she thought on a cynical note. Letting her hand slip down Remy's damp torso she hooked her hand around his nimble yet sturdy waist, clasping just above his hip; the way in which his body tensed earlier completely forgotten as they thoughtlessly slipped into the old routine. "Do you realise we forgot to contact Charles and tell him where we are?"
"Hmph! I didn' t'ink 'bout dat at all t' be 'onest." It was the truth, he really hadn't. All thoughts of the school had gone completely from his mind until moments ago.
"We told him we would only be a day---at most."
"T' hell wit' it," He joked playfully, "Let 'em sweat it fo' a while---let 'em t'ink Stormy's no' de reliable li'll Girl Scout dey all t'ought she wuz."
"If only I could---but unfortunately I think that Girl Scout has taken a firm hold." There was definitely sarcasm in there somewhere.
Remy pulled her closer to him, bringing his left arm up so that he could envelope her totally---he too forgetting any qualms and falling into their frequent habit. "I wouldn't bet on it chère." He said slyly as he shifted about on his mat to get more comfortable, when the tip of his boot hit something hard. Peering down at the object, he suddenly remembered about them as he saw what he'd just kicked. Laying the sole of his boot flat on the dark ground, he got just the tip underneath the small, fairly flat box and with a slight jerk of his foot, flipped it up into the air. It sailed in an arch straight towards him as he took his left hand from where it had been placed, over his right on her smooth shoulder, and caught the object expertly.
"C'hards?" He asked as he waved the un-open, red backed pack of playing cards in front of Ororo's line of vision.
"Why not?" She agreed affably as she pulled back from his shoulder, releasing her hold on his waist. But as soon as she did, she found she missed the feel of it beneath her palm and the sultry warmth of his skin on her cheek...
They played for an hour or so by the light of the Davey Lamp that attracted any number of subtly busy insects, all with their own distinctive sound, but it was mainly moths; attracted by its brilliance, singeing their beautiful moon-pale wings against its heat. As they played everything from Rummy to Black Jack, they chatted about old times and recent ones too; all inconsequential, all light-hearted---just what they needed to remind themselves that they weren't just superheroes with the weight of the entire world on their shoulders, Homo Superiors, Goddess, or thieves on quests for supernaturally powerful artefacts. They were people too---just like everybody else.
* * *
Westchester, the Xavier Institute, in Cerebra...
Jean Grey-Summers removed the head apparatus of Professor Xavier's revolutionary machine; relief flooding her body to have the pressure and weight of it from her neck and shoulders. She shook her head to ease out the ghostly presence of it from her muscles, her lose red hair flailing as she did so and then placed the helmet back on to its stand. As she approached the doors of the space-age looking pod that Hank had designed, they opened automatically, sliding noiselessly into the curved walls. Reaching behind her head, at her neck, she gathered her thick straight hair up in her hands; easing off the bobble that waited at her wrist and wrapping it around the deep red mass so that it hung in a messy bun close to her nape.
The doors closed behind her with equal discretion as the red-head neared the main door of the outer chamber of the Cerebra room; quickly punching in her personal access code that let only senior X-Men in and out, each of them possessing their own whether they were telepaths or not just in case something should happen to Jean or Charles whilst they were in there. The metalic corridor was silent as the grave, it was so far beneath the Institute; lit by a series of blindingly light fluorescent tubes set into the walls on either side, close to the ceiling. It was getting late but she was fairly sure the Professor would still be up; he had some Economics and Modern Political History papers to mark and hand back to the senior class first thing in the morning. Rather uncharacteristically he'd left them until the last possible moment, but, to be fair, he had had other things on his mind. Though Jean was hoping that she could help put his mind to rest with what she'd found out---but it had raised more questions than it had answered in truth.
She reached the lift at the end of the corridor, the one that stopped more- or-less opposite Charles classroom where she thought he'd be marking his papers as he tried to keep the everyday teaching paper work out of his main office, dedicating that to the more practical matters of running the school, the two teams of X-Men and being Chairman Emeritus of X-Corps International. Staring up at the number counter at the top of the lift, she hummed absently to herself as she watched each number light up in turn, becoming a bright electric red one by one. At least concentrating on the mundane took her mind off worrying about her best friend, out there somewhere in a vast jungle. What the hell was she doing out there? Jean had been seriously pissed off at first that Ororo had not contacted the School after the first day but the anger was only out of concern. Then when Xavier had tried to locate them and failed it had only made her worse. Why on earth hadn't she contacted them? Ever since then she and Charles had been doing shifts in Cerebra in the hopes of locating the pair and it was only a few moments ago that they'd had success or rather the Phoenix had.
The lift door opened softly ending with a resounding *ping*. As she stepped out into the orange lit oak panelled hallway, a familiar, though no longer blue face, walked by.
"Hey Warren."
"Hey Jean." They both offered relaxed greetings without stopping on their respective courses, padding along the plush red wine coloured runner. Jean crossed the hall and knocked quickly on the frosted glass of the classroom door, entering the room without waiting for reply.
"I've found them Charles."
The Professor looked up from the student paper in his hand at the announcement, letting it hover for a moment before laying it back down with the others. "Where?"
Jean walked further into the classroom, her raised heals clicking on the parquet floor tat adorned all their revamped teaching areas. It was quite shadowy in the room as the Professor was only using the green shaded lamp on his desk to work by, the main lights remaining off. She took the student chair that sat haphazardly in front of Xavier's desk and settled into it, crossing her right leg over her left. "I finally tracked their signal to South America---the Brazilian Amazon to be more exact."
"Did you find out why?" He asked coolly as he brought his hands together in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk.
Jean shook her head, her hastily assembled bun almost coming lose, so that it hung in a pony tail instead. "When I finally found their signature they were both sleeping---I didn't want to invade their privacy by poking around whilst they didn't know."
"Indeed." Charles stated simply, although for once he had to admit he wished Jean had bent the rules on his strictly applied moral ethic. He'd taught her too well it seemed. "At least we know where they are and that they are safe---that is something at least."
"It doesn't stop us from being mad at them though." Jean admitted; still feeling aggrieved at Ororo's thoughtlessness. It wasn't like her, wasn't like her at all. "They must realise that we'd be worried about them." She shook her head, at a loss. "After everything that's been happening lately," She smiled, somewhat sardonically; it may have been quiet for a couple of months but that only gave them time to brood over the other events that they hadn't had the time to absorb properly or grieve for when they'd been occurring, "it's odd---we've never been more comfortable with our place in the world as we are now and yet I don't think we've ever been more vulnerable---with all this exposure."
"I understand." Charles said sympathetically.
"We've lost so many of us in such a short space of time," Jean continued, "Leyu Yoshida and Darkstar in Paris; Skin and the others, crucified here at the mansion---almost Jubilee too...on are own backyard for chrissake!" Her sometimes fiery temper flamed as she thought about it, hugging herself and rolling her eyes to the stars to stop the tears that glistened and fought to spill over. "...not to mention Genosha." She shook her head again and brought one hand to her forehead as if she hand a headache, the mere thought of sixteen million mutants perishing in a holocaust, not at the hands of human oppressors as was feared and forewarned by Magneto, but at the hands of a fellow mutant---Charles Xavier's very own twin sister. "After everything that's been going on, you'd think Ororo and Remy would have a bit more consideration that's all..." She wasn't really angry at them, just stressed and hurt.
Though he was understanding of Jean's frustration, Xavier wasn't as un- clued as to why they may not have contacted the Institute. They obviously had their reasons and he didn't think any of them had anything to do with the acrimony under which they left the other night. Whatever it was the Guild had put him up to this time---perhaps he just didn't want anyone at the mansion to know. Of course, Ororo had gone along with it too, never able to deny Remy anything. In a strange way he admired their unconditional attachment to one another.
He stood from his chair with the aid of his cane, heading for the tall filling cabinet in the corner of the room. "Now we have a lock on their position," he started as he pulled out the middle draw and retrieved a manila folder containing some source materials for the papers he was grading, "I will contact them tomorrow." The draw slammed shut with the rattling noise of metal.
"Okay." Jean agreed, though she was hesitant; she'd much preferred to speak to Ororo and Remy herself---figuring there would be less chance of a confrontation that way, with things being the way they were right now. As Charles came back down to the desk, laying the pale brown folder next to the stack of white sheets, Jean stood to leave. "Good night Charles---tell me when you're going to use Cerebra tomorrow won't you? I'd like to be there when you do."
"Of course." He smiled up at his fellow telepath and then looked back down as he opened up the file and pulled out its contents. "Good night." Without further word Jean left the classroom.
* * *
The Amazon...
Remy's eyes opened slowly, with caution against the clear morning light. High above them the entire forest exhaled, a giant veil of mist coating its top that had turned sepia and gold in the glow. He breathed in deeply, focusing on the roof of the tarpaulin that had become almost transparent with the brilliance that was so strong it reached down this far into the forest...but only in the mornings. The delicious aroma came to him again--- the clarity of rain, so uncomplicated, so true to itself...There was a weight pressed against him, constant and warm as he moved slightly. He felt it against his legs, a rounded curve nestling in the pit of his torso as it bent to form a concave, letting it sit perfectly. His strong, lithe arms contained most of the warmth, resting against his bare chest. The haze between this world and that of dreams hung over him, muting all of these physical sensations into speculation. Was this a memory of a distant, long forgotten lover in his arms, safe in the protective proximity of his body, or was this another time and place, the rainforest nothing more than an imaginative construction?
Slowly Remy let his head fall to the side, a thick bang of auburn falling heavily across his forehead. His lips brushed against a 'pelt' of downy pure white. It sparkled close to him; a diamond under close inspection, ready to be stolen. He closed his eyes again and lazily moved his head, just slightly from side to side, down into the still relatively thick hair, burying his face in it and its soft, mild scent of sandalwood that flowed over the one of rain.
It must have happened at sometime during the night, he thought to himself in the first concrete consideration to come into his mind since waking. At some point she must have come into his arms, snuggling safe, or maybe he'd pulled her into his embrace. They lay like spoons now, nestled into each others body, melding forms, curving in their middles. He stilled his head, practically ceased to breath, his hands resting over her ribcage, aware of the small groves and dips. Moving his head back from her slowly, he let his left hand come back with the motion too; skirting over her torso and coming up to her arm. Letting his fingers fold over the supple limb in a light clasp, he ran it all the way up its length, tracking its progress as it caressed every inch of coca skin. Withdrawing his other arm from beneath her body, carefully as not to disturb her, he leant up onto it as his other hand reached the gentle curve of her exposed shoulder. He peered down at it and then shifted his gaze over its arc where he could see just the side of her face, her soft expanse of cheek from this angle; the delicate fine detail of the bone beneath the perfect skin and the similar way her jaw bone pressed in defined precision beneath it, leading down to an impossibly elegant neck. Absently his thumb rubbed over her shoulder; the action taking his attention back to it in the foreground of her landscape.
Just once, Remy thought to himself, lost amongst the morning song of the birds. Just once he wanted to put his lips to that skin on her shoulder with its warm tones of amber above the duskiness like a light peppering. He continued to run his thumb over it, back and forth slowly, savouring the feel. There was no guilt in his desire to do this he realised, moreover a sense of longing. This wasn't some long buried hankering, this was a new delight---one whose presence shocked him but somewhere in his mind was no surprise at all. It felt as natural as the winds...
Ororo peeled her eyes open as twittering filled her ears and the air that was fresh from the night of rain coated her. She became aware, or perhaps she always had been, but the touch, the texture felt so right that she did not question it, of a hot gust on her left shoulder. She held herself still, waiting for the warm, moist pressure that was sure to follow. Her lips parted subconsciously as the hold of his hand became more pronounced; agile fingers dimpling the skin, touching down to the collar bone and then, finally, the contact---smooth lips. Did he know she was awake?
"Bonjour mon chèrie." Yes. The thick husky drawl washed over her like warm honey.
"Good morning." Ororo replied in a near whisper as his hold on her shoulder turned her halfway to facing him. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes instantly; her body leaning into his even more so than before. His face was shaded by his hanging hair, though still clearly discernable as hers was to him---an open book. When he looked into her eyes he did not see the clouds that she saw---to him they were as flawless and vibrant as the Caribbean. She suddenly felt compelled to touch him, cup that strong, square jaw line with a smooth palm. And that she did. The rough feel familiar yet fresh.
"Remy..." Her eyes held the question not the delicate tone.
Remy started to move his hand down to her hip; hesitating slightly, but only for a split second as he then let it trail down her side purposefully until it settled just above the protruding hip bone, exposed by the low sling of her combats.
"I t'ink Remy's as confused as yo' are 'Roro." He said, his voice like an undertone, "Needuh o' us know what's 'appenin' 'ere, it's jus'..."
Ororo felt her heart pumping a mile a minute, positive that he must have been able to hear it too; it deafened her so much. She let her hand stroke at his face, unsure of what to say next. Was this what either of them truly wanted or had loneliness and a mutual sense of dependence clouded their minds of late? She blinked in the vain hope that when she opened her eyes again everything would have dispersed like desert sands in the wind. But Remy was still there, his hand heavy on her hip...at home there. His dark eyes, with their flash of fiery scarlet held hers unnervingly---that thief's confidence and aptitude for the bluff never failing him. But Ororo knew, she could see straight through it...She finally took the breath to speak; the tang of sap on her tongue again, coating her throat, "Remy, I--- ."
A high pitched whistling burst through the sounds of the forest with a forceful distinction, causing both parties to jerk their heads in the direction of the opening at their feet. Quickly they broke apart as the sound became louder, hurtling towards them. Louder and louder until it came to a sudden and abrupt stop with a splintering noise exploding from behind them. They both whipped their heads around, startled eyes fixing on a thin length of sharpened reed with a parrot tail of bright red and green spurting from its back end.
"Blow d'art." Remy said quickly as he scrambled to his feet, reaching down and pulling Ororo up by the arm as he did so; both stood stopped in the low down tent. They exited the it post-haste, their diligence returning in the blink of an eye as they scanned the animate expanse before them.
"Can you see anything?"
"Non," Remy replied shortly, never taking his eyes from his deceiving environment; a living breathing camouflage, "But we need t' get outta de firin' range---an' now." Just as he said it he turned, intending to pull down the suspended tarpaulin, when there was a forced puffing sound from somewhere out there amongst the covering blanket of trees and ground foliage. The whistling came again, with the same impossible speed. The noise at the start warned them of its imminence but not quite soon enough. No sooner had they had that moment of hesitation, looking in the direction of the incoming dart instead of ducking for cover, slowed them down than Remy shunted backwards, almost falling into the tent.
"Remy!" Ororo gasped in horror as their attention fell on the second dart, with the same red and green tail, stuck in straight stiffness to Remy's thigh, embedded deep.
-TBC-