Author's note: I am so disappointed in the lack of feedback I've been getting. At the risk of sounding conceited, this story will have some great plot-lines. I just need to know if there are readers out there angry at me for not pairing Remy with Rogue. In my defence, isn't this a place where authors can write their OWN versions and stories about their favourite movies, books and characters? Perhaps I was mistaken.

Hoping to have not offended,

The Vampire Pandora

Chapter 5

"Remy?", Jean asked softly.

"Oui, Jean?", he answered, not looking at her.

Jean sighed and sat down in the seat next to the brooding Cajun. Remy sat by the window, looking out of the pane and sitting in silence. He sat away from the others and had not spoken since their departure from his broken-down flat back in New Orleans.

Jean didn't know what Remy could possibly be thinking. He had seem determined to help them,(well, Storm), back at the house, but was he regretting it now? It wasn't even worth trying to sneak a peak at his thoughts. Remy's mind shields were just too strong. And so he simply sat there, gazing out the window as the sky flew by them, pieces of the clouds being ripped apart.

Jean nervously played with the ends of her flaming, red hair. She and Remy had never been really close. Of course, since they were both X-Men they considered themselves to be friends. However, neither one was exactly what the other considered good friend material. Remy was too wild for Jean, and she was considered way too uptight for the young man. But Remy was in obvious pain, well, as obvious as it came to this guy...

The truth was no one really knew what had gone down between him and the girl that had loved him. Things had always been, well, explosive between the two, sometimes in a good way while others times for the worse. Maybe the sparks had just gotten to be too much. Maybe the fire that had seemed to consume them had burned them as well.

" So, how are you feeling? I know you must be a little queasy, seeing as how you haven't flown in a while", Jean stated politely.

" Remy's fine", he replied softly, still not tearing his eyes from the window.

Sighing a little under her breath, Jean shook her head and got up. Without looking back at him, she left the sullen Cajun alone with his thoughts.

"Chère, please, you know dat de last ting dis thief gonna do is hurt you!", Remy pleaded, his voice breaking.

" That's not what Ahm afraid of Remy", Rogue whispered.

" Then what is wrong? Please, Marie, ma belle", Remy eyes searched for hers. " I love you".

Rogue smiled at him through her pain. Carefully, she brought up a gloved hand and stroked his trembling face. Remy covered her hand with his, pressing the soft of her limb against his flesh. Kissing her palm through the glove, Remy sought the small of her back with his other hand. As tried to pull her closer into his embrace, Rogue's hand suddenly slipped from his own and she backed away from him.

" That's why yah have to go", Rogue whispered back. " Those who love meh only get hurt."

"Rogue? Non, please...", Remy could only beg as she walked towards his bedroom door.

"Good-bye Remy. Ah, Ah'll always love yah..."

She was gone.

"It's exactly as Remy remembered it, Stormy!", Remy exclaimed as he walked up the long path to the mansion's front door.

Ororo smiled up at him, pleased that he was portraying even the slightest enthusiasm. The young man at her side was nervous, she could tell, even though he would never show it to any of them. And Remy had, Storm knew, good reason to feel that way. There were memories waiting in that house, feelings that were crying out, people he had long stopped hoping to once again see.

Thankfully the night was growing old, enough for all the students to be in bed. Storm was certain, and the professor had agreed, that Remy should have a quiet homecoming. He was not yet prepared to meet up with the ghosts of his past.

" The inside has not changed since last you were here, Remy", she answered him warmly. "You'll see, your home is still your home."

Remy winced at her words, and Ororo regretted them immediately.

" Remy",she began.

"Please, Stormy, not ce soir. Remy is tired, he... He will just go ta sleep", Remy cut in.

"Of course Remy", she said softly, not whishing to press him.

The professor's motorized wheelchair came out of the darkness and the man moved along next to the two old friends. The moonlight gleamed in Ororo's white hair, giving it a spectral silver colour. Charles did not have to delve into the recesses of her mind to see what she was thinking, how she felt. He smiled a little as she gently took hold of Remy's arm, leaning on him as much as guiding him home.

Remy could not tear his gaze from the colossal, colonial-style mansion that lay ahead of them. Everything looked the same, everything felt the same. It was as if he had never left. Remy sighed to himself. It was foolish of him to think of this as a home-coming, especially since most of those who lay sleeping within the house would not welcome him as such. He was certainly the prodigal son, but there was no desperate father waiting to rush out and greet him. The only person that might have cared certainly would no longer. Rogue. He trembled slightly as he thought of her, just within reach. Had she even missed him? Or would she simply be angry that he had returned at all? Although, there was always that chance...

"Non, Remy can't fool hisself", he murmured to himself and the starry night.

" Pardon, Remy? What was that?", Charles asked him, feigning innocence. Everyone who had gone to New Orleans knew exactly how nervous Remy had to be at the prospect of once more seeing Rogue. Remy did not let any of his pain show, but he didn't have to. They knew, and it was an unspoken agreement that no one put into words Remy's intolerable, inner sufferings.

"Oh, Remy just be saying how it seems like depuis toujours1 dat he last ate", Remy answered, lying through his teeth.

"Oh, of course!", exclaimed Ororo a little too enthusiastically. "We must get you something to eat before you go to sleep."

"Ororo, he may still be a kid but I think he's past the whole cookies and milk routine", Logan scuffed, puzzled at Storm's suddenly suffocating motherly behaviour.

"Oh, of course", Storm apologized, bringing a hand to her hair and passing her fingers through, uncomfortable.

" Remy'd really appreciate it doh Stormy", Remy said quickly, sending a stinging glare in Wolverine's direction. " Cookies do sound just about perfect."

Ororo laughed a little, and merely shook her head at the two. Well, although it was sure to be a rocky welcome, Remy was definitely coming home.

The blinking, red numbers that flashed from her bedside table said three o'clock. Throwing her hand over her face, Gabrielle rolled over onto her back. It was just too quiet here, it was keeping her awake. There was no familiar sound of cars or people walking along the busy streets. This quiet, Washington estate was relatively isolated as compared to Gabrielle's former homes.

It was this mattress, this soft and comfortable mattress that made her feel like she was sleeping on a cloud that kept her up. It was these damn satin sheets, the soft velvety feel of them against her skin was irritating. Who was she kidding? She loved her immense, four post bed and it's fluffy pillows. But Gabrielle was not used to such finery. She had gotten used to the springy beds and the thin sheets they were given in the troupe. God, a bed was a bed, and an even better one if it was off the ground. These things were too much for her, she felt out of place between the smooth, green blankets. She be better on the plush, carpeted floor.

"Still, I won't complain", Gabrielle thought to herself as she kicked off her sheets. Glancing once more at the time, she sighed into the dark. She'd be exhausted tomorrow, but then she'd been living on little sleep for over a year now. It was one of those perks, one of those catches that came with travelling with the show.

Oh God, the show... The show had been her home, had been the place where she had most belonged. All of the players had been like her, runaways and refugees, outcasts of society. There had been no religion, no nationality, no patriotism, no identity. You were simply what you were, and that was the same as those who lived around you. Not by any means a model of utopia, but certainly not a dystopia. Just, living. Coexisting, together.

Well, she wasn't going to sleep much tonight. Gabrielle knew this and accepted it as one does after years of a particular routine. It was foolish to think that the change in scenery could have changed anything.

She sat up, shivering a little as the air hit her bare shoulders. Pulling up her tank-top strap unto her shoulder, she shivered a little as she swung her feet over the side. The carpet felt like a cushion under her feet and the socks she had worn to bed kept them warm outside the covers. Her long hair cascaded down her back, the newly washed softness caressing the bare skin on her back. She haphazardly ran her fingers through it, combing out the bigger tangles on the off chance that she would meet someone on her way down to the kitchen.

She was off to get some warm milk. It seemed the thing to do. In every book that Gabrielle had read, the insomniac hero had also seemed to search out some of the heated stuff. She didn't know why water wouldn't have sufficed, but of she was going to live this, fairytale, she would at least act the part. And so, hoping she could find her way and praying she would not be discovered wandering the halls, lost, the next morning, Gabrielle was off for milk.

She opened the door slowly, pushing it against its hinges like Zephyr had taught her to keep it from squeaking. Slipping out of the room quietly and closing the door behind her, Gabrielle stepped out into the hall without a sound. She quickly glanced around herself, making sure she was the only late-night wanderer up tonight.

" Now, I know there's some stairs I have to go down", Gabrielle thought to herself.

Faintly burning lights adorned the end of the hallway, giving off a slightly dreamlike glow. Gabrielle walked carefully along, taking pains to be sure that her footfalls would awaken no slumbering person. She kept her hand on the wall as she walked, the palm of it tracing her journey in the darkness. She turned the corner, carefully peering around first to make sure the coast was clear. Emptiness, and just there, the stairs.

The wooden banister felt a little cold against her hand as she made her way down the large steps down to the main floor. Coming down the long staircase, Gabrielle couldn't resist throwing up her head and gliding. Well, that was an exaggeration, but it was enjoyable none the less, pretending to be some kind of royalty descending into some lavish party. Gabrielle sighed a little to herself. She wasn't about to complain, she counted her blessings. Maybe she just couldn't help remembering the promises Zephyr had made. Maybe they were what kept her going.

The staircase ended and Gabrielle found herself standing in the middle of a great room, the floors tiled and freshly waxed. There were things in here that would fetch a price, certainly. But no, Gabrielle scolded herself in her mind. She may have done some shameful things, but she had never been a thief. Not of that kind anyway.

"Now, I believe... I think the kitchen may be just off that hallway", Gabrielle mused to herself quietly. " There must be lights lit in the passage. There's some kind of glow..."

Walking cautiously, Gabrielle followed the pale light down the hall. Stepping lightly and always listening, she tentatively walked closer to a brightly lit room.

"Well, I guess that's where the light's coming from", she thought.

Sudden voices coming from the room made her freeze mid-step. Two, no three voices floating out from the kitchen.. Gabrielle paused and considered turning back.

"No", she thought with a defiant flip of her raven hair. "I haven't done anything. I just want some damn milk after all."

The garish lights hit her eyes as she squinted for a moment against the brightness. There were people gathered around the large, wooden tables. Gabrielle couldn't help but notice that the whispered conversations that she had heard in the hall suddenly died as she walked in. Nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Gabrielle smiled at those assembled.

"I'm sorry to disturb you", she said as courteously as possible. "I was just going to get some warm milk."

The one Gabrielle recognized as Ororo stood from her chair, smiling at Gabrielle sympathetically.

"Wonderful", Gabrielle thought bitterly. "Now they pity me, their little charity case."

She wanted no one's pity. It didn't keep you full, or warm at night. Only the rich could afford to be pitied.

" Oh, of course child. Come in, please", Ororo said graciously. "Come in, I'll fix it for you."

Nodding her thanks, Gabrielle looked over the others sitting at the table. There was Professor Xavier, the kindly man who had found her and saved her from that angry group of men. Yes, she liked that one. He didn't come off as the say-anything-to-please-you type. This one could carry on a decent conversation. Marlowe, Molière, Burgess, Orwell, Botticelli, Da Vinci. Yes, she could with that one. One did grow weary of celebrity gossip and rumours after a time. She decided. She liked that one.

The young man seated next to Professor Xavier, however, gave off no such vibe. Perhaps the most attention grabbing feature were his eyes. Blood red irises on black... Gabrielle wondered if he could see in the dark with those eyes. From the depth of his stare, she almost felt naked before him and crossed her arms deftly, tossing her hair once more. He looked filthy, his longish auburn hair stood spiked a little from lack of grooming, and that grin... That cocky, overconfident grin on that rugged, conceited face...

He was the most gorgeous thing Gabrielle had ever seen.

Zephyr had been handsome, very much so, it had been obvious to all the girls. With his blond locks and deep hazel eyes, he had broken many a heart and many a promise. But this one was different...

She decided his was breathtaking. She also decided she didn't like him.

" Mademoiselle Rielle, this is Remy LeBeau", the professor explained. " He has agreed to return to the Institute to help us."

Ororo looked over her shoulder from the pot where she was boiling the milk, and smiling, turned back to her work.

" His powers are similar to yours in a way, Rielle", Charles continued, not noticing or deciding to ignore the frigid look between the two. " M. LeBeau uses kinetic energy to charge different kinds of objects. We thought perhaps he could help you learn to control your own gift."

Gabrielle stood gaping at them.

"Close your mouth you idiot!", she screamed in her mind. " You look like a bloody fish!"

"I, well Professor, I don't know what to say...", she stammered under Remy's stare. "Damn it, what is wrong with you!", Gabrielle's mind yelled.

Ororo decided at that moment to walk over with Gabrielle's glass of warmed milk. Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and handing her the glass, Ororo turned to look at the professor sharply.

"I am certain the details can all be arranged in the morning, Charles", the White Witch said pointedly.

"Of course", Charles said gallantly. " I apologize for my rashness Gabrielle."

Nodding to him and smiling at Ororo, Gabrielle turned on her heel, and walked from the kitchen with the little dignity she had left.

" So, dat be de fille", Remy thought to himself, a little amused. He had thought is quite funny the way she had stood there, mouth open and babbling incoherently as she looked at him. Of course, she wouldn't be the first woman to lose the power of speech in his presence. Remy shook his head a little. Truly, she seemed all right. Maybe a little high-strung and too thin but...

The way her dark, wavy hair framed her tanned face was very beautiful to him. Perhaps this "helping" he was going to be doing wouldn't be that bad.

" Ne t'inquiète pas, ma p'tite. Remy va bien s'occuper de toi", Remy called out to her in his native french. It had always driven the ladies wild. " Les chèries que Remy a connu l'on toujours aimer après un certain temps".2

He was not prepared, although he was pleasantly surprised, for Gabrielle's sudden turn at the kitchen entrance. She only looked at him for a moment with her huge, dark eyes. She then opened her mouth to speak.

"Mon nom, monsieur, est Rielle. Et je ne suis pas votre chérie, ni votre femme, ni votre ami. Je vous trouve vain, hautain et odieux". She smiled at him, sweetly. "Bonsoir, M LeBeau."3

Remy smiled as she retreated from the room. Ororo looked shocked but confused, Remy knew she spoke little French. Perhaps the professor had been able to pick up the just of the conversation with his telepathy but chose to look politely befuddled. Yes, Remy thought to himself, this just might be entertaining after all.

Authors' note: I would just like to send out my thanks to Chaotic Jinx for her encouragement and her suggestions. Keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating! And to all those who have read but not reviewed, I would appreciate some feedback as to what you guys do and don't like. Then I can truly write the story for you!

Pandora

1Since forever

2Don't worry, my dear. Remy will take good care of you. The darlings that Remy has known have all loved him after a while.

3My name, sir, is Rielle. I am not your dear, your darling, your woman nor our friend. I find you vain, haughty and obnoxious. Goodnight, Mr LeBeau.