Disclaimer: X-Men Evolution Characters are not mine. Oh, and fyi, french translations are at the end, though I can't promise that the french is correct.
~~~~~~~
Rogue sighed, breathing in Remy's scent of cologne and cigars in the process. She gave in. And what was worse, she had cried in front of him. A wave of self-loathing crashed over her, causing a grimace to cross her lips. She was seated behind Remy on his motorcycle, her arms wrapped around him as loosely as she dared, and she had no clue where he was taking her. Initially, she had flushed in embarrassment about sitting there, holding him about his waist, but then the ride started, and in the relative quiet she found herself at peace. The wind had whipped her hair about her head, into her eyes, and she had to bring a hand up to hold the strands away from her face. Everything was going by so quickly, and she felt a sort of distance from everything. A sort of alienation, though it was pleasant. Buildings rushed past, people were a blur, yet the whole ride seemed to go so slowly through time. It felt surreal. She felt her self-loathing rise from her chest, replaced with a sense of wonder, almost freedom in the ride. If she was not anchored to Remy, she believed that she could have very well been able to fly, up and off of the bike, into the nothingness that is the expanse of sky, free from pain and longing. Free from doubt. From love.
She felt herself glancing up at the cajun, watching his own auburn hair flutter in the wind, and she reprimanded herself internally, scoffing. Love, really. Was she that desperate? Well, yes, almost. She longed for a relationship, she wanted love, and it hurt that she could not have it, she knew she would never have it. She would do anything to be able to find someone to become, well, at least a friend. But this manipulative rat? He was using her, and it was so easy. She had given in, hardly fighting his suggestive tone and his lusty glances. And his god-forsaken way of touching her. The self-loathing was back, though it came this time partnered with anger and hatred for Remy. It was his fault. Such a rat, such an asshole. Trying to use her, to seduce her, to manipulate her. And damnit, though she fought, she knew that once he turned to her, once he spoke, once he simply fucking looked at her, her resolution immediately would disappear, and she was tied around his little finger.
So here she was. Sitting behind him, actually enjoying the ride. On the way to a date with aforementioned rat. She sighed once more. Why couldn't life have been easy for her? She would love a life where her greatest worry would be what to wear, instead of who might she kill today. She was only seventeen, but she felt like she had seen the world at least ten times over, and she was just about done with life. And then Remy waltzed in, complicating everything even further. She just wanted to be left alone, why couldn't the Gods have at least allowed her that? Please, damnit. Was it so much to ask that she have things easy for once?
*****
Remy glanced over at his mirror to check on the girl sitting on the bike behind him. She had appeared to enjoy the ride at first, but apparently the mood soured. He felt deep frustration, anger, hatred, self-loathing, and depression emanate her so powerfully that he had to concentrate in order to remain composed. So far, the date was not going too well. So much for taking the extra-scenic route, he might as well quit dallying and head over to the restaurant.
He should make her forget, feel carefree, without the weight she carried on her shoulders. Even moreso, he should make her feel that she was not alone in her pain. And her companion, him. Yes, that was what he had to do. He had to help her have fun for once, while at the same time make her feel connected with him. It would be trickier than he initially believed; she was so deep inside her dark hole, he would need a lot more than coaxing if he wanted her to come to him. Her trust was harder to obtain than most, but then again, that was probably his fault to begin with. He had blundered with being so forward, and he had scared her into questioning his intentions. It was an honest mistake, he assured himself, usually it works. Women loved to get swept off their feet. But clearly, Rogue was hardly like other women. The girl had issues. Issues that he had not quite understood, nor even now did he understand them. He had not even foreseen the problem; she looked so strong, so together. She knew what she wanted, and what she did not want. Or so it seemed. The facade was so very well placed that it had fooled even he, and he had a talent for reading people.
In any case, they were there, and in order to gain her trust, and another firm footing on the way to a relationship, he had to get past her problems. Something very few people, or maybe even nobody, had been successful in doing. Maybe they were afraid, maybe intimidated by the magnitude of her problems, or maybe plainly they did not care. Remy wrinkled his nose as he stared out into the road in front of him. As much as the X-Men tried to exude a family type of environment, each and every mutant had personal issues to face, he himself had issues. Issues came along with the gifts they were born with; if you had a mutant power, you had a problem. So there was only so much togetherness and team work that could go around. And Rogue's power, the very thing she needed help with, naturally created a distance between them, even moreso with her pushing everybody away.
So how to win her over? Well, first, getting her to laugh would be good. He smirked at his own sarcasm. He was determined to at least gain her trust by evening. If anybody could do it, he could.
*****
They stopped finally outside of a very cush-looking french restaurant, and Rogue suddenly felt self-conscious, like she was under-dressed, all previous thoughts vanishing for the moment in her surprise. She stared up at the establishment then back at Remy.
"Heah? Yah cain't b' serious." Remy grinned over to her as he dismounted, taking her hand to help her down.
"An' why not?"
"It's too expensive, that's whay." She eyed him critically, standing now beside the motorcycle. "Yah cain't afford it."
Remy chuckled. "Have some fait' in Remy, chere. Y'll see, jus' be patient." He extended his arm towards her, but she did not take it, walking defiantly on her own to the front door. Remy smirked as he lowered his arm, moving to follow her.
Inside, the maître'd eyed them both with the same critical look that Rogue had stared at Remy with. Clearing his throat, Remy sidled up to him and murmured a few words which caused the host's eyes to widen.
"Bien sûr, monsieur," he replied, a slight tremor in his voice. He called for a waiter and barked sharp instructions to him, who bowed, strutting off quickly to follow the orders. The maître'd turned back to Remy, with an acknowledging glance towards Rogue, though his attention and hesitant smile were for the cajun. "Et bien.." He cleared his throat. "Bienvenue, madame et monsieur, à notre établissement. Votre table sera prête en un moment." Rogue looked up questioningly at Remy, who just smiled and slipped his hand into hers to give it a firm squeeze. Rogue scowled, turning away and pulling her fingers away from his, though she felt like she was going to have a fever from his attentions.
Moments later the waiter returned, beckoning them to follow him. "S'il vous plait, je vous conduirai à votre table." As they passed the other tables, Rogue could not help but notice how nicely the patrons were dressed, and it was hardly evening or dinnertime. She felt so out of place, out of her league, and she unconsciously crowded closer to Remy, who just looked amusedly down at her, placing a gentle hand on her back as if to guide her.
"Remy..." she whispered.
They had reached their table. "Oui, chere?" He pulled out her chair for her and she sat down, looking, and feeling, dazed.
"Whay are we heah? Ah mean, Ah'm hardly dressed for such a... date." She seemed to have trouble saying it, and perhaps even admitting it. "An' it's barely four thirty."
Remy did not answer immediately, busy with thanking the waiter and receiving the menus, but soon he returned his gaze to her, taking his seat across from her. "Don' worry 'bout what y' wearin', chere. Y' beautiful anyways." He handed her the menu with a smile. "An' what's de problem wit' four t'irty? Too early f' y'? I t'ought mebbe y'd be hungry."
"Well.." Rogue blushed, hastily opening up her menu to conceal it. "In the movies, dates ta restaurants as posh as this place always seem ta happen in th' late evenin'." She ducked her head slightly, feeling incredibly sheepish. "An' it's... light out now," she finished lamely.
Remy laughed good-naturedly. "Well, ma belle fille, good food is good food, no matt' what time it is." Rogue attempted a small smile. He had a nice laugh, and it made her feel more relaxed in such a high-class restaurant. He saw her smile and he returned it winningly, causing Rogue to blink and redden, ducking her head down once more, this time as if perusing the menu.
"Hey, this is all in French."
Remy chuckled. "Mais oui, c'est un restaurant francais." Rogue arched an eyebrow at him and he grinned. "Et moi, je suis un homme qui a le plus belle femme dans l'établissement s'asseyant dans le chaise en face de moi-même."
Rogue blushed. "Ah tahke French yah know..."
"Et qui a dit que je n'ai pas voulé que tu me comprends?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up, swamp rat. Ah'm not that good anyways at understandin' it, so it won' do yah much good ta try ta seduce meh with ya French, got that?"
Remy laughed lightly, but continued, his voice exaggerating his already French accent. "Oh, cherie, tes yeux sont la teinte de vert la plus marveilleuse dans le monde." He leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows lecherously, and Rogue had to fight a smile at his low, mock-seducing voice and exaggerated words. "Je peux me perdre dans ces yeux et je ne voudrais jamais les fuir." Rogue could not help it this time and giggled softly, flushing at the words, playful yet so flattering. He continued, attacking her reservations. His grin and his tone was saying, 'This whole 'date' is so silly, so casual. So relax. It's just a movie, where a french restaurant is always SO elegant and romantic and French, being the language of love, is a potent love potion.' His reassuring yet subtle humor did not evade her and she laughed musically, a sound so rare and pleasing that Remy had to pause and listen to it for a moment. And he smiled, genuinely. "Chere, y' should laugh more of'en. It's a beautiful sound."
Rogue sobered, clearing her throat, the menu becoming very interesting again. "Uh.. anyways, what's th' limit Ah have on what ta ordah?"
He leaned back, looking at his own menu. "Don' worry 'bout it none, chere. Remy got it all covered." He lifted his eyes, grinning at her.
She looked at him, unbelieving. "Ya sure?"
"Pos'tive, belle."
"Good. 'Cause Ah'm suddenly very hungry." Remy quirked a smile, continuing to watch her for a moment longer as she looked at her menu, making her choices. She was loosening up, good. He did not have to tip toe so much now. He watched as her brow furrowed slightly and her eyes seemed to bore into the page; she looked like she was having trouble with the menu.
"Do y' need any help translatin', chere?"
"Nah, Ah can do it mahself, thank yah," she replied curtly. Remy shook his head and smiled once more, almost affectionately, at her stubborn independence, peering down and making his own decisions.
"Grenouille means frog, by de way," he murmured, though he did not lift his eyes.
"Ah know that," she snapped. "An' Ah told ya that Ah didn' need ya help, didn' Ah, swamp rat? Or is there still some o' that bayou watah still cloggin' up yah ears?"
"Jus' makin' sure, chere." There was a moment of silence once more as their attention was placed on the menu. "An' huître is oyster."
Rogue frowned. "Remy..." she warned.
A pause. "An' jus' in case, escargot is snail, moule is mussel, and crevette is shrimp."
Rogue dropped her menu and glared at Remy who smiled innocently back. "Are ya quite done?" she hissed.
"Quite, chere."
"Good. Now, hush up an' mind yah own business."
Remy pretended to look down at his menu obediently as she stared at him, making sure he would hush. Warily, she let her eyes back down to her menu and he opened his mouth, only to dodge a spoon being thrown at him. Instead, the projectile bounced against the wall behind him and fell harmlessly to the floor. "Homard be de lobster." He grinned as she sighed, reaching up to clutch her forehead. "Y' be real gorgeous when y' angry, chere."
"Yah really are a pain in the neck, Remy."
"Aw, why don' y' let Remy massage it out f' y' den?" he said, taking a flirtatious tone. Rogue did not reply, instead raising her eyes to shoot daggers at him. He grinned, clearing his throat. "Eit'er dat, or tell m' y' order. It'd make t'ings easier."
*****
Soon, the waiter had come and gone, and they sat waiting for the food. Rogue tapped her fingers on the cloth-covered tabletop idly, not having a menu to read any longer, and surveyed the room once more, trying to avoid looking at Remy. He, however, would not keep the silence for long.
"So, chere, y' havin' fun?"
"What's ta have fun with," she replied drably. "This place is so uptight, Ah feel lahke Ah'm wearin' a corset."
"It ain' so bad. 'Sides, Remy be right here wit' y'."
"Oh, an' that's s'posed ta mahke meh feel bettah?"
"Oh, chere, y' wound me!"
Rogue snorted. "Deal."
"I would have hoped y' might enjoy m' comp'ny as much as I enjoy y's." He looked at her intensely, his voice serious, and Rogue could feel her face heat up from his stare more than his words.
She cleared her throat. "Uhm, Ah think Ah need a drink. Do ya know when they'll get-" she got cut off as their waiter approached to deposit a bottle of wine and two glasses on their table. "Wine? Ah didn' ordah that."
"No, chere, y' didn', Remy did," he grinned, proceeding to pour each of them a drink. She refused her glass, however.
"If ya haven' noticed, Ah'm kinda underage." She eyed him critically. "And so are you!"
"Live a little, chere," he grinned, handing her the glass. "Don' be so uptight all de time."
"Uptight? Ah'll show you uptight, swamp rat." Taking her glass, she tilted her head back and took a swig. Remy laughed.
"Dat ain' how y' drink wine, chere."
Rogue muttered indignantly, scrubbing her mouth of excess wine with the back of her hand. "Yeah, well, who's anal now?"
"De femme ain' much o' a lady, now is she?" He playfully tossed his napkin over to her. She crinkled it up into a ball and chucked it right back .
"No, Ah ain'. Yah gotta problem?"
"No, chere, Remy love y' jus' de way y' are." Rogue choked slightly, taking another sip of wine, the glass conveniently shielding her flustered face slightly. Did he always have to say something like that? Always putting her on edge, unbalanced. Her eyes flickered over to him and he gave her a grin that left her heart palpitating wildly in her chest. She was not going to say anything, then he would not be able to get her flustered.
The food arrived not too soon after; steaming bowls and dishes that filled the air with a pleasant aroma. Quite a bit of the disarray belonged to Rogue, yet Remy felt no qualms about sneaking a taste from each plate.
"Mm, dig in, chere. Ain' not'in' like good food t' satisfy y'."
Rogue eyed her plates warily while Remy proceeded on his own dishes, but she made no move to touch it. There was a lot of food, and she suddenly felt guilty. "Remy..." She glanced up at him, watching him eat, and he met her gaze moments later, his expression turning quizzical.
"Chere, why aren' y' eatin'? Remy t'ought y' be hungry."
"Are ya sure 'bout this? Ah mean, honestly, can ya really afford it?"
"Oh, ma belle fille, don' worry 'bout it. Y' leave Remy t' deal wit' de financials." He handed her a fork, smiling encouragingly. "G' on, it's good. De best dere is around."
After only a moment more of hesitation, she dug into her plate. Soon she was savouring each dish, relishing each flavor and each spice, cleaning the plate in a matter of minutes. Remy watched her polish off each dish one by one, and with an occasional gulp of her wine, with an amused smirk.
"What, dey don' feed y' at dat mansion o' yours?"
Rogue blushed, slowing her pace down. "It's not that. Ah really was hungry, an' this stuff is really good."
"Wort' de price, n'est-ce pas?"
"Yeah." Rogue smiled. "Ah've nevah even been ta such a fancy place lahke this before, an' ya sit there as if yah own the place." She frowned, eyeing him, disbelief crossing her features. "Yah don' own the place, do yah?"
Remy grinned. "No, not'in' like dat."
"Then how does a swamp rat lahke ya get th' money ta afford eatin' so cushly?"
"Dat's a secret, ma belle fille." She pouted indignantly and he laughed. "Bien, Remy at least tell y' dat it not be what y' have, but who y' know. Connections, chere."
Rogue fit a spoonful of her last plate of food into her mouth before she replied, "Uh-huh." She allowed a moment more for her to swallow. "An' how'd ya get these kinds o' connections?"
"Here and dere. Comes in de line o' work."
She arched an eyebrow. "An' yer work is helpin' psychos try ta tahke ovah th' world?"
Remy chuckled, his eyes flashing slightly. "No, chere. Remy only hired by one, c'est tout."
"Hired? Whay for? Whay ya?" Remy smirked but did not answer, evoking a suspicious frown from Rogue. "Who are ya?"
"I t'ought we were done wit' de introductions, chere."
"Ah don' mean yer name, swamp rat. Ah mean, WHO are ya, really?" Remy paused and looked down at his plate, pushing the remnants around with his spoon guiltily. Rogue pursed her lips, resting her wrists upon the tabletop decidedly. "Tell me, Remy."
His voice was low, and sounded ashamed. "Y' won' like me if I tell y'."
"Is it that bad?" There was another moment of silence when he did not reply, and she continued, "Listen, Remy, Ah promise ya that Ah won' judge ya, okay?" He raised his chin suddenly at the words, his eyes flashing.
"Mais, chere, y've been judgin' me dis whole time! D'ya know how hard it is t' convince y' to give Remy a chance?"
He was making her feel guilty and she revolted, her green eyes glimmering with indignancy. "Well, what do ya expect? Ya sahde with Magneto, mah ENEMY. An' y've attacked meh before. How am Ah to trust ya?" Remy leaned forward suddenly, catching her hand in his.
"D'ya feel this? D'ya feel me holdin' y' hand? Dis is real. I'm real. Whatever happens out dere, isn', comprenez? Remy be hired, bound by contract, but he never wanted t' hurt y'. Did I hurt y'?"
"No, Remy, but-"
"But what, chere? He hired Remy, an' Remy don' have much choice in de matter. How else am I s'posed t' get by?" Rogue remained silent, her eyes lowered, defeated and submissive, staring at his hand holding hers, touching yet separated by cloth. The hand she felt, did it feel real? How was she supposed to know? All she could feel was the shield, the veil between them, covering her eyes. Was what he said believeable? Could she really trust him?
"Who ARE ya?" she demanded once more, quietly this time. "Ah deserve ta know, at th' very least."
Remy sighed, releasing her hand and pushing away from the table. "Let's go, chere. Remy be in no mood f' dessert." She followed him reluctantly out of the restaurant, the question of payment for the dinner only a dim concern in her mind, but stopped in front of his motorcycle. He sat there, waiting fruitlessly for her to board and stared at her with a trace of annoyance.
"Tell meh, Remy." She lifted her hand to touch his knuckle, his hand gripping the handlebars of his bike tightly. "Please?"
Remy looked away to avoid her eyes. "Remy is not good 'nough f' y', chere. An' I jus' be 'fraid of y' realizin' it." She opened her mouth, her eyes full of compassion, but before she could speak, he continued, "But y' do deserve t' know." He paused, his breathing heavy as if it was difficult for him to admit. "Remy be a t'ief for a livin', an' not jus' any common t'ief. He be de prince o' t'ieves, de best dere is. Remy steals for a livin'." His posture slumped visibly. "An' now he hired by a psycho, bound by contract dat he can' break, else he go agains' all he know. Chere, y' right for not trustin' Remy," he sighed morosely, the sound tugging at her heartstrings. "I'm sorry, chere. I jus'... I feel so trapped, so alone. Helpless."
Rogue shook her head, her previous bout of speechlessness overcome. "Remy, shh, it's okay, Ah understand." She approached him, placing a hand on his back albeit uncomfortably. "Ah understand, really." He seemed so misunderstood. She was wrong about not trusting him, and it made her feel terrible that she probably added to his pain. Pain that seemed so similar to hers. She gave him a small encouraging smile. "Ya aren' alone, swamp rat. Ya got a mississippi river rat for company."
He turned back towards her, touching her chin to lift her face with a soft smile that made her body tingle. "An' de mos' beautiful rat at dat."
Rogue smirked. "Ah don' know if Ah should be flattahed, or insulted."
Remy winked at her, helping her to mount the bike behind him. "If y' insulted, Remy sorry and would be glad t' kiss an' make up."
"Only if ya want ta die, swamp rat."
"It'd be wort' it." Rogue laughed, smacking him on the back playfully with her free hand, the other one already grasping his side. "Alright, chere, time t' take y' home." Rogue smiled, leaning her cheek into his back as he started up his motorcycle and took off. He was really not so bad. Incredibly persistent. Maybe cocky and sure of himself, too. But on the inside, he was good, just misunderstood. Just coincidental that he had to be hired by the wrong side. She would help him out though, she was determined to.
Remy grinned, the expression hidden from Rogue. He was so good, he impressed even himself. Just like putty in his hand. He had her.
~~~~~~~
Longest chapter yet. Which was why it took me longer. I didn't want to cut it off in the middle of the date, but the whole thing was getting tedious for me, so I wouldn't be surprised if the quality isn't too good. :-/ I'll edit it sometime. I'll edit all the chapters sometime. Probably when it's finished, give it a once over.
See, I like to do descriptions. But it tends to slow things down, and I was getting impatient with how things were going so slowly, especially at times during the date. Damnit. Why couldn't I have been satisfied with a simple, 'they chatted idly as they ate' type thing. But no, had to write each exchange. I got so impatient, it began to be like pulling teeth. And I like to write! Though I have been feeling rather discouraged. I think it was just playful and joking, but it was rather harsh to all of a sudden see mutiple 'I HATE YOU's strewn across the screen. (I'm exaggerating, btw) I'm not exactly taking it personally, but it was still rather disheartening. And simply because this is a romy. I debated removing the 'review,' but I decided that I don't want to censor. That was why I said before that it's ok to criticize, as long as it's not a 'you suck.' I should add to that and say that 'I hate you' is not allowed either. Does not do much for the old self-esteem. Maybe I'm just being silly, though.
So basically, I had trouble getting this chapter out, and not because it had to be so long. I haven't been too motivated recently to write. I mean, I still want to write, but for some reason it's been hard to get the words out as I'd like them. Maybe I've spent the block of creativity that's been building up all these years already. Wow, that would suck.
You ask, graphic how? Ah-heh. Well, here, on PG-13, there have been references to sex, as in how Remy turns Rogue on (e.g. 'she wanted him. badly.' chapter 4). I've just been debating between dealing with that kind of theme either directly, fade-out method, or just not at all. I don't know. There have been quite a few sensual moments in this fic already, and I like to do that. No, no lemons, not like that, tone it down a bit. And I just want to know how far is tasteful.
Remy is still bad. I'm still having a problem characterizing him exactly. Because of his whole dual-sided thing. And Rogue, I'm not sure she's consistent. I don't know. I'm tired. I'm beginning to lose vocabulary.
I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. :)
Rielyn
Translations:
* Bien sûr, monsieur - Of course, Sir
* Bienvenue, madame et monsieur, à notre établissement. Votre table sera prête en un moment - Welcome, madame and sir, to our establishment. Your table will be ready in a moment.
* S'il vous plait, je vous conduirai à votre table - Please, I will show you to your table
* Et moi, je suis un homme qui a le plus belle femme dans l'établissement s'asseyant dans le chaise en face de moi-même - And me, I am a man who has the most beautiful woman in the establishment sitting in the chair across from me
* Et qui a dit que je n'ai pas voulé que tu me comprends? - And who said that I didn't want you to understand me?
* Oh, cherie, tes yeux sont la teinte de vert la plus marveilleuse dans le monde - Oh, dear, your eyes are the most marvelous shade of green in the world
* Je peux me perdre dans ces yeux et je ne voudrais jamais les fuir - I could lose myself in these eyes and I would never want to escape them
(Sorry for mangling them, if I did. You would think after 6 or so years, my french would be near to flawless, but I think it's far from that.)