Disclaimer: Have you ever just felt violated? Like, that damned bastard just ran off with your work? I have. Maybe Marvel feels that way too every time anyone one of us write one of these fanfics, but I really don't care and hell, our ideas are sometimes damned better than theirs…ie. Just get Remy and Rogue together, please?
Author's Notes: I first wrote this chapter on December 26/28th, well started it anyway, so you'll all be wondering what the heck happened to make this delayed so much. Well, the thing is, as some of you know, on January 2nd, 2006, I was robbed in Vancouver when some guy broke into the trunk or our car and stole my backpack and laptop. My laptop contained the incomplete copy of URX-Houston, We Have a Problem, tons of homework that needed to be handed in and just my entire collection of writings from the past year in fanfiction...the stuff that I loaded from my flash drive anyway. All of my stories are in my main computer at home, but I did lose a ton of stuff I did over the holidays and it sucks ass. I also lost all of what I had done for a year in biology, notes, books, assignments, the whole deal, a few English take home exams and my sketchbook, which had some totally amazing works with Rogue and Remy…along with 26 CDs that took me a good six/eight years to collect. So at the end of the day, I was truly pissed off. I felt completely violated. I didn't really care about all the material possessions I lost, some I didn't mention. I cared that I lost my bio notes, some of this chapter, my homework and my SKETCHBOOK. Those things are irreplaceable. I'll never get them back and that just killed me a bit, because I know that whoever stole my stuff doesn't care about the things they stole, it doesn't and won't mean shit to them, hell, it's a schoolbag, you won't make much money on it. They won't appreciate the things I did in biology, that I was reading Macbeth, that I'm a pretty good artist, that I write, that I'm alive for that matter. They just wanted some money and well, I hope you made some off a couple of old textbooks and binders and what not. I also hope that when you were getting away, you hurt yourself or something, because that bag had to be over 30 pounds and yes, I did lug it to school. So for awhile, I felt like this person stole a bit of my soul, because a person defiling my art, to me, is the biggest crime you can ever commit. And I just reached this state of stagnancy where I felt like, I just don't really wanna write right now, because I don't wanna redo all this that I started, but I'm gonna if I'm ever gonna move on, so this is what I'm doing.
But I'm better now, and I'm back. ; ) Oh and please sign the Romy petition, there's a link on my bio.
So I wrote the beginnings of this chapter awhile ago, and I had to admit that I wasn't satisfied with it, while I'm sure that a lot of you, hell most of you, scratch that, all of you, would have loved to read the eight pages I had of Rogue and Remy sitting at dinner's end during dessert, talking about their families, hometowns and stuff and basically lying to each other at the same time, then going to the car and driving like maniacs to Rogue's apartment, then about to board the elevator, it did nothing whatsoever to advance the plot and was basically filler. It was tedious to write and really could've been approached in a different way, because it went into details that I really didn't need to, so it's getting cut out and rewritten into a way that I think really makes things a lot more 'stimulating' for our leads. I'll still have elements of what went on, but I think I've condensed it in a way that works, ie. 'Trapped in an elevator'. I just think this makes much more sense, because I did in the beginning really want to stick to my plans of having Remy and Rogue go through everything I had planned, but now I'm doing it in a way that won't make me bored. I'm not giving too much away am I? LOL!
Okay, and this is also the aforementioned fight chapter, it's like the ultimate showdown between Remy and Rogue. I had quite a few things planed for this chapter, some of which were written in note form on the hard drive of my stolen laptop, but I'll try to remember as much as I can, as I usually take notes on fics as I write, when an idea will strike me. Still, this chapter will explain what the hell went on between going out for dinner and getting ready to kill each other. Rogue and Remy will figure out why on earth they know each other. I'm really dying to do this action sequence. It's killer, to put it mildly and it's all my head…lol. Yeah, and they do find out they're working for the same people, but of course, it gets a tad muddy before then and the working together for the team concept is still up in the air…But since I always write A/Ns before I do the chapter, please note that the chap probably got long so I decided to split the chapter and do the fight next time…I'll start it for sure.
I was really lucky that I forgot to bring all of my handwritten notes to Vancouver that had plans on basically everything I would eventually write. Instead, they didn't get stolen, thank god, and spent the holidays living beside my dead computer…they love it there and I'm glad they stayed.
Shout Outs: Thank you to all of you for reviewing as usual, and not even this fic, they lifted me up when I was really feeling down in my little backpack tragedy. I'll be getting to all those responses for AME, and Just Need to Hear Your Voice soon. For this, I'd like to thank Cat, bored247, GothikStrawberry, Nettlez (not used to NMCL, wutzat stand for anyway?), ishie, Realt, and mazdamiatta. You all rocketh.
Here we go, ladies and gents! There any gents out there anyway that read this?
PART I: CHAPTER SIX: HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM
"SOLID LAND! I'M SAVED! THANK YOU, GOD!" rang out a voice, emerging from a sleek Ferrari, and raising her head and hands to the heavens, as if conversing with God. Well, it was more like bolting away while some guy in a hockey mask prepared to chop you limb from limb…and for that young woman, almost ready to kiss the cracked sidewalk, had it not been for the thousands of squished gum marks, spit stains, garbage, germs, and God knows what else, that guy in the hockey mask was Remy LeBeau, well to her, Rob. Being that this was New York, no one cared and no one stared at the woman shouting to the heavens for all to hear.
A load chuckle was heard as a man too, emerged from the Ferrari, "It wasn't THAT bad, c'mon…you're being melodramatic." Remy had offered to drive her home after dinner and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It had been an amazing dinner. Just like before, the conversation flowed and some sort of strange connection could be sensed in both of them.
He was the perfect gentleman. He held doors open for her, helped her into her chair, took of her coat and well, she just enjoyed being pampered. It was more than the men, or boys in her life did for her, ever. The food had been excellent and he just couldn't stop but be drawn into her, they had so much in common. It was almost uncanny.
"ME! Melodramatic! You were going to KILL ME in that-that machine of death!" cried Marie indignantly pointing to the pristine looking Ferrari shining innocently in the night, while the amused doorman raised an eyebrow.
"Pfft," Remy snorted indignantly with a casual wave of his hand. She was clearly getting riled up.
"You broke like every speed limit regulation in the book, you blew past any and all red lights," Marie's voice began to raise hysterically, "you almost hit a blind woman crossing the street, you weaved in and out of traffic, you passed when you weren't supposed to pass, (does the double yellow line mean nothing to you?), and you were in the car pooling lane when there wasn't enough people!"
"You done yet?" he asked with a smirk.
"NO!" she exclaimed, more than a little angry.
"Well, you did say you wanted to get home early," said Remy wryly.
Marie made a choking nose, a very pissed off sounding noise, "You're something else."
"You know, you should be grateful that I offered to drive you home," said Remy, "and saved you from having to take the subway where any old loser can come and take your virtue."
"My virtue, I'm sure…" rebutted Marie.
"If I remember correctly, you said that you lived not two miles away from the restaurant. My speedometer reads 12," revealed Rob.
"Whatever, okay? …I was just trying to save you the hassle-" but she was cut off.
"Hey, you're never a hassle Anna," said Rob, with a bright smile throwing an overfriendly arm around her shoulder, trying to be funny.
"You're not funny," she told him, nose scrunched.
"Don't hate me because I'm right," he defended, in a joking manner.
"Uh-huh, right," she said sarcastically.
"You know, I am your boss, and I don't appreciate you talking back," said Remy, with a pondering look on his face.
"You wouldn't," said Marie crossly, knowing exactly what he was implying.
"What if I did?" he said, "It's not like you can do anything about it."
Marie let out a disgusted growl, conceding slight defeat.
"And we both know you enjoyed it," said Remy with a conspirator's smile.
Marie crossed her arms huffily, refusing to concede to him, tilting her head to the side with a questioning look on her face, nose slightly in the air, "Shows what you know," she accused.
"So that wasn't you there shrieking 'Faster, Rob, faster!'" rebuked Remy, affecting her voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, a slight smile, cracking her angry visage, "and I do not sound like that. Don't make me sound like a two bit tramp!"
"Hey, you're the one suggesting that you sound like a tramp," said Remy back to her.
"I resent that," she said.
"Didn't you want to go to your apartment, because frankly, I've had enough of standing on the sidewalk like a pair of jackasses while the entirety of New York watches for entertainment?" suggested Remy.
Marie sighed, "Yeah, I do," then, peeking up at him slowly, bringing up her eyes to his, once again, noting those gorgeous features said unwillingly, "I guess this is goodnight."
He smiled down at her, noting those sweet, innocent eyes and angelic face, "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go all the way to your apartment unescorted?"
Marie gave him a mock serious look, "Totally horrible, besides, there could be a gang of drug dealers and thugs all ready and willing to steal my virtue and rob me of my belongings just lurking in the halls of a security camera laced complex." She felt glad to know that their moments together would be extended.
"Indeed," he agreed, with a serious expression and a stiff nod, trying hard not to burst and laugh. He gave up and laughed when Marie laughed at his expression, relieved to know that he'd have a few more minutes with her, and it didn't have anything to do with wanting to know exactly where she lived for reasons of espionage.
And then, she turned with a fleeting smile and led him into her building, flashing her entrance card to the security guard, who let her in and greeted her.
"Good evening, Miss Raven," he said.
"Good evening to you too, Garrett," she responded to the middle aged man.
Remy trailed a few steps behind her to let her cool off, not wanting to provoke anymore of that seething wrath that was just waiting to be unleashed on him, but damn, he just loved infuriating beautiful women and seeing them all flustered.
The pair had entered a decently sized apartment complex, while it wasn't new by any stretch, it was in a good neighborhood, the kind where you can raise kids in without having to deal with the ugly facets of the inner sanctums of New York City. Bricks and limestone blocks lined the building, with what looked like aged marble forming gargoyles of the building. It was built years ago and while the building had definitely seen better days, it was well kept and sung of the golden eras from the olden style architecture that one couldn't help but admire. The tenants, management and owners were well off enough to have security in the building constantly as well as cameras, so it was safe. It wasn't luxurious, but it was affordable, comfortable and clean, as well as being a perfect spot for a young college graduate, since the rent wasn't too steep, surprising, as it was New York.
The lobby was simply decorated in rich leather chairs, some throw blankets and dark colored cushions, with dark wood furniture and porcelain lamps and vases. It was a comfortable meeting place, set of to one side, a fireplace alit, letting the flames cast a warm glow over the room. The other side housed the elevator and the halls leading to apartments on the first floor of the five story building. Remy noted the six exits that were available for him, quickly and easily. His thieving instincts never seemed to leave him.
Marie reluctantly pressed the silver button to call down the elevator, surprised to note that she was disappointed to be leaving his company momentarily, so quickly, even though they'd spent just about the entire day together. Igniting in a bright red, the button lit up and a noise dinged, indicating that the elevator would be arriving shortly.
"You have a nice set up here," commented Remy, noting the features of the building.
"Yeah, I was lucky my parents were willing to spring up half of the rent, so I don't have to attempt live in some little crap hole," she remarked.
A ding announcing the arrival of the elevator interrupted any conversation that would've continued, as the doors slid open.
"Ladies first," Remy said, moving to the side and gesturing for her to enter first.
"Always have to be a gentleman, I see," she commented with a smirk.
"Always," Remy conceded with a wink, as she stepped into the chamber. Marie pressed the button which would lead her to her apartment, the fifth floor.
Turning she watched as Remy caught her eye, then without looking, suavely pressed the button to close the elevator doors, to which the machine responded with a ding and a slide of the doors, "Alone at last."
"Riiight," she responded wryly, raising an eyebrow at his antics.
Suddenly, Marie didn't like the fact that her room was on the top floor. It's gonna be a LONG elevator ride…
"Is this the part where you, press the emergency stop button, push me up against the walls of the elevator and proceed to kiss me breathlessly and we give the guards on duty some free porn to watch?" Marie asked sarcastically, secretly panicking inside at the implications of what she just said, knowing she wanted just that deep down and also realizing that she didn't want to oust herself as a mutant to him, not to mention, yes, she wanted to touch him, but no, she didn't want the nasty aftertaste.
Remy laughed, knowing the irony of the situation when he realized he most desired to do just what she had relayed to him in sarcasm. His voice dropped a few octaves, becoming a low, sexy drawl, "Like I said before, Anna, I'm a gentleman." They felt the sudden hitch as the elevator began its slow ascent. Here we go…
"Really?" another eyebrow raised.
"Really, or so I've been told," Remy revealed in a deep purr.
"Are you sure whoever told you wasn't lying?" Marie swallowed, her throat suddenly gone dry.
"Positive," he whispered seductively, suddenly aware of how taut and aware of everything he was and how the temperature had risen so much so that the heat was palpable. He could see her swallow, how those gems looked up at him through thickly lashed half closed lids. It was SO damn hot. Her scent was intoxicating, speaking of vanilla and cinnamon. It was sending him into overdrive, as if they were some sort of pheromone, setting him ready to pounce. She was a beautiful creature after all, and it was torture knowing that he couldn't have her, even though her private apartment was just a few steps away. He had honor, hard to believe as it was, and he wouldn't take advantage of her, no matter how much he wanted to and it wasn't just the Employee to Employer relationship that he was trying to maintain.
Marie licked her lips, a sexy action, feeling the heat that seemed to emanate from his body intimately close to hers, invading her personal space. He was too close and she was surprised that she was so relaxed at his closeness and not panicked at all by his presence, as if she were sedated. He looked good, good enough to eat. Marie took in every inch of him, knowing she couldn't play the innocent girl here, not when she desperately wanted to pull his face down and have his mouth crash against hers and knowing the consequences. She wanted to be someone else right then, a normal woman, who was in an elevator with a gorgeous man and could pull him into her apartment alone and experience all that would happen afterwards with him. But she wasn't normal and she couldn't, for more reasons than one, even if she longingly wanted to. Conflict ruled her mind, begging her to give into her desires while rationality held out. Life had never been fair, so why would it start now and for her?
Moments of this uncomfortable, yet delectable silence passed, where they could do nothing but stare at each other. However, just as quickly as the tension started, it ended as the elevator lurched to a standstill and a ding announced that it had arrived on her floor. The doors slid open, releasing their held breaths and allowing the tension to end and release, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. The ride up, that had seemed impossibly long, now seemed too short to both.
Marie broke the gaze first to his eternal disappointment and without a word stepped off the lift, not looking back to see if he was following, leaving him no choice but to concede and follow her as she took a right in the direction of her apartment. The halls were short with few doors and made Remy note immediately that the units were fairly large. Stopping at the door marked 508, Marie delved into her purse to search for her keys, while Remy studied his surroundings, the pale yellowy green walls, framed by deep wood, an ornate table with a draw, bearing a crystal vase of flowers at the end of the hall, dimmed lighting emitting from a few lights mounted on the wall and the doors with the silver numbers against black with a bubble of a peep hole.
Finally fishing out her keys that featured a ridiculous amount of key chains, to which Remy raised an eyebrow, Marie swiveled the keys to the lock and swung the door open.
"Success!" she said with a jazzed up smile and a fist pump. Remy couldn't help but grin, she was SO unbelievably and utterly adorable. Crossing the threshold, and holding the door open, she regarded Remy with a quizzical expression, not knowing how to end the night.
"I'll see you Monday, Anna, nine o' clock sharp, you hear?" Remy said, mock seriously, "You've got the address right?"
"Yeah, I do, and uhh…thanks, for everything, the coffee, the dinner, the ride, escorting me up…" remarked Marie, regarding his features.
"It was my pleasure," answered Remy with a slight bow.
"Good night," whispered Marie, gazing into Remy's eyes, to which Remy stared right back, not sure as to what to make of what he saw there, not knowing how to define what was there, but not having the desire to and not knowing that he had the same expression for Marie to see.
Remy smiled, "Parting is such sweet sorrow. Good night." With that last remark, he gave her a salute, turned 90 degrees clockwise and headed towards the elevator, but not before goofily spinning around to wink at her and give her a parting wave, making her giggle at the absurd antic, before heading on his way again, as if he had never given her that last look.
As soon as he entered the elevator and the doors closed on him, Remy let out a conflicted sigh and ran his hands through his hair, then down his face. What the hell was he thinking? What was he doing? Yeah, it looked like good cover for his cause, but the real reasons behind what he was doing had nothing to do with the cause and everything to do with the beautiful woman living in Room 508. He'd seen first hand, time and time again, what those bastards did to them. So why was she any different? Why did such a beautiful, attractive, bubbly, friendly, caring person be on their side? It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.
For the first time, in a long time, he'd felt a genuine connection with a woman that meant something more than getting her to bed. He didn't know why, but a part of him refused to think of Anna in the terms of an enemy, in the terms of a person working for the MSF. He hoped desperately that she didn't harbor anything against him, or mutants in general, that it was just something her father did, that her relatives hadn't turned her before she got a chance to make that decision on her own, come to her own conclusions. Was that too much to ask for?
He suddenly felt lonely, abysmally lonely and knew that this mission or whatever it had become in a few short hours was going to be more difficult that he'd originally thought.
It was only when Marie was sure that he was in the elevator that she breathed a sigh of relief and bolted her door and reinforcing it too with a few inventions courtesy of the Beast and his little group of elite geeks, as they were so affectionately called. The mechanisms clicked and whirred as they docked to the seams of the door, making it near impossible for anyone to break in if they didn't know how to handle the clever system.
Marie then moved into the hall, agitated, pulling off her jacket and outerwear in a frustrated manner, barely making it to putting them on their hooks by the door, dropping her large leather purse unceremoniously in the middle of the hall in a huff. What was she going to do? He didn't seem evil, or like he'd have anything to do with the MSF, but then, that's how convoluted the world was and at the moment she hated it, hated herself, because she really had let her guard down. She really shouldn't have let Rob lead her around half of New York on little escapades. Not only would it look bad on her report, sure she could mask it with a little creative wording, but it was still fishy, well at least to her anyway.
Marie resigned herself to sleep. She'd worry about this all in the morning, not wanting to contemplate what had gone on between them and knowing that this mission just took a nosedive.
You ever get that feeling that you're being watched? You turn to look around your shoulder…and nothing. Nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. But then, you know, know that things have never been normal and that if you're gut says that something's wrong, then something's wrong. Damn your intuition.
And that's what Marie felt. She knew she wasn't being paranoid. In this business, it's what keeps you alive, but she had this overwhelming feeling of a presence watching her every move as she walked down the loosely populated sidewalk that morning, the city just waking up after a heady night. Marie watched over her shoulder, scanned the area in front of her, casually peered at the sides, stretched her neck to scrutinize the tall buildings' windows and roofs and across the street. There was nothing, but Marie knew there wax something. Someone was watching her, this she knew and every part of her body tensed, her nerve endings on fire, reading to react, her alertness rising tenfold. The thing was, she had been feeling this sense of dread since the moment she had awakened in the morning.
It was Monday morning, eight thirty-seven am and she was just about a block away from the office for Robert Lord's branch of Inspired Designs, (the headquarters was in a towering skyscraper downtown, but Mr. Lord kindly preferred to have him and his fellow artists not suffer from the fear of heights in having cubicles over a hundred feet in the air) walking because her alias was a recent university graduate and they didn't have the kind of money required for a car to cruise in. She tried to shake the feeling, but it wouldn't pass.
She was greeted kindly by a receptionist in the front of the office when she first entered, a bubbly girl in her twenties with a chic black bob featuring red chunks and cat eye glasses, who sweetly directed her to the back where the studios were and to the second floor where Mr. Lord's private office was located. The reception area was both modern contemporary and richly traditional, but comfortable, featuring funky leather chairs, mixed with antique furniture, vases and some of the prized works from the company. The receptionist's desk area was made of granite table top on top of a deep cherry wood, that was most definitely luxurious.
Once she pushed the aforementioned door to go to the door, she was blown away in sheer awe of the studio space. She stood on top of a balcony or catwalk overlooking the space of Inspired Designs, and it was in fact inspiring. At one time, this must have been a warehouse, but it's back faced the harbor, about a hundred feet below the windows and a floor to ceiling windows had been erected, allowing for an unobstructed view to the world outside, spilling sunlight onto the studio. Blinds could be drawn electronically to combat the sun when it became overbearing. To get to the gigantic floor of the studio space, you had to go down about the distance of three or four floors, but of course, the space between was empty of any floors. It had to be an artist's paradise of studios. A scattered array of cubicles made from movable white walls that were specially made to support paintings walled off individual artist's workplaces in a chaotic fashion, all around the floor space of the studio, but leaving a cul de sac shaped area empty in front of the windows that looked to be a common place for everyone with comfortable sofas and a granite table in the center with coffee and snacks. Apparently he wasn't kidding about free food for the employees. Plant life was scattered around the floor from various places around the world in many different types and blooms. From within the odd shaped cubicles stunning pieces could be seen in the form of paintings, sculptures, drawings, digital art and computer set ups that their owners had decided upon, as well as personal affects. The area beneath her held what looked like an artist's paradise in terms of the enormity of the different types of art supplies, along with the bathrooms and the massive kiln. The walls of the entire open building was aged brick, that had many murals and graffiti that had been added by various artists and the inhabitants here. At the sides of the building were a massive set of garage doors that could be opened to allow pieces to be easily transported, for large sculptures or delivering artwork and supplies. The floors were scuffed hardwood, concrete and layered with rugs in an odd mix of textures and patch work.
On her section of the area above the floor, were stairs on either side of the doors she had just exited from, that led down to the floor with a landing in the middle, as well as an elevator. Since the balcony wrapped around the entire floor she was on, leaving the middle empty, at the far end, was what looked like a quiet loft, with comfortable seating for sketching, contemplation or relaxation, but also provided some workplace for those who wanted as there were a few of the odd shaped cubicles here too. The windows continued here too but tapered off to form a nice shape with the roof, that was still quite a ways off, even if you were in the loft. Marie estimated the building had to be at least seven stories from ceiling to the studio floor.
Directly above her, and the receptionist's area, was Mr. Lord's offices, as well as the higher ups that worked here, and also the computer people that served as a go between or liaison between this office and the headquarters in terms of projects. It provided Mr. Lord with a balcony from the doors of his and the others' office that allowed him to peer upon all of the artists employed at this fabulous location. The offices were designed in such a creative set up that Marie knew that those that resided there were genuine creative souls and artists in all right of the name.
So entering the elevator, that had two sets of doors, Marie emerged into the office area of Inspired Designs to converse with her boss. His office was in the back of the place after a waiting area, and featured a great view of the streets below. It was immaculately decorated in antique furniture and featured more than a few artworks that wrought its way into being furniture like the chair made entirely of wire. Once again, their meeting had been one of ease and friendliness. However, having arrived at about eight fifty at his office, she only entered it when he came a few minutes later, coffee in hand, having just got in, to which Marie didn't know should be suspicious or not. He personally gave her a tour of the facilities, then showed her to her cubicle, which though largely undecorated now, featured a very nice dark wood desk and the latest model of PC to which she was free to decorate in any way she wanted, it was rather spacious and made her feel comfortable immediately. Then, he gave her a few papers, her first assignment and left her to her work, along with a few words of advice. She also further learned that Inspired Designs, did advertising, contract work for public buildings and making names for artists amongst other things. She met her neighbors and many of her fellow artists, all of whom were kind, talented and wonderful. The atmosphere was simply fantastic.
Getting acquainted with the area, she soon decided that she wanted a large, prepped and stretched canvas board as part of the centerpiece she decided she wanted to be part of her piece that was to be an advertisement for some up and coming extreme fashion house. Planning for a few hours in a sketchbook, she decided to do some experimentation on what her painted piece to look like on proper canvas. She decided she wanted a lovely exceeding large painted piece as a backdrop, and she was only more than happy to discover that the supply area simply did not carry canvas that size in her desired size and that she would be required to go to the bookings and ordering department upstairs and place a request to order one in. It perfectly coincided with lunch hour. So she decided to go to booking and ordering immediately to 'show initiative' on the first day, make a good impression, all the while knowing that the ladies in the department had decided to go out for lunch and would not be back until the afternoon, the perfect opportunity to snoop upon her hands.
She entered the department she required, and once she learned of the departure of the women in charge, she 'sadly' resigned herself to taking a seat in their office and waiting for their return. After a manager had kindly lead her to the department and left, she locked the doors and went straight to the personal files of each employee in the firm, but not before using a small computer to scan for any bugs of hidden cameras. More than happy that she was in gloves, she picked open the locked filing cabinet and then leafed through the alphabetical files, under the Ls for personal information on her boss, which was a quick and easy success. Slipping out the paper, she memorized the information such as his birth date, full name, medical information, position, phone number and most importantly his address, before slipping the paper back in it's file and closing the cabinet up, leaving it as if it had never been touched, then she unlocked the doors, took a seat, and waited for the women in the department to return, so she could make her request.
After making her request, she went back to her cubicle to eat her lunch and put down a few more ideas to present for her project, before it was finally time to leave, where she resolved that she'd use tonight to investigate Mr. Lord's home and nighttime habits.
The night clung to New York this evening, darker and more mysterious than usual, as if knowing it needed to shelter those who reveled and hid in it this night. The waning moon was a poor substitute for light as was the dimmed stars, masked by inky blue purple clouds. Lights of the city did nothing but to cast faint glow spots in the all encompassing darkness like ghostly spirits and the skyscrapers, imposing and reflective in the day, became tainted, drenched in ominous nature, nothing more than dark outlines that could vaguely be seen against the suppressing sky. Yes, it was a perfect time for the shadows.
It was near midnight, some might say that it was too early for her extracurricular activity, but she wanted to observe his actions, not his sleeping patterns and REM cycles. Marie was dressed in her X-Men uniform, the tight fitted jacket like a corset styled to resemble a motorcycling one with the deep green accenting and piping, those hunter green velvet gloves, that punk fashioned cargo pants and the large chunky black boots. With her studded leather belt were the holsters attached to her thighs that held the pair of high powered sidearms, her Dessert Eagles, the silver glistening in the dark, a gift from her mother and father. Her disguise was gone, that red wig had been discarded for this. It was better for him not to be able to recognize her and a change in hair color would help that. She looked bad and dangerous. She liked that.
Currently, she lay flat on her stomach, with a pair of high tech binoculars and a medium sized backpack beside her, perched on the roof of the building beside the one in which her subject resided in. He lived on the uppermost floor and luckily for her, the building she lay on was taller than his. She had a perfect view into his apartment or pent house suite from the rectangular prism shaped skylight that would cast light into his living space, the dining room, living room and kitchen. His suite took up the entire floor of the protruding West Tower. He had a thing for windows apparently, all the better for her. Was he hiding in plain sight or just plain daring? She had yet to figure that out.
She had climbed to the top of her building's roof, secretly, about a half hour prior, simply scaling the sides, out of sight, from anybody, rather than using the elevator inside as that would cause more trouble than it was worth in disabling cameras. She had a larger chance of being found out if she went inside the building, so she stuck to the exterior, after looking up the security that the building possessed.
Tonight she had come for reconnaissance, scouting out his suite, getting to know the layout and his habits, so that she could come back later when he was out to snoop and bug the premises. So far, there was little of interest. He was behaving as a normal big time boss did; catching up on a few things he hadn't done in the office, signing a few papers, none of them of interest to her cause, and some bookkeeping on the computer in his office space next to the living room. Marie had to say that she liked his set up. It was large and spacious with a great view of the city from the windows or the wraparound balcony. There were doors leading to what she knew were the bedrooms and bathrooms, along with storage and a den that were closed off from her vision perched on the roof. This she knew from the blueprints she hacked from the contractor's mainframe.
The rooms were richly decorated in a mixture of antiques blended with more contemporary items. The chairs in the living room looked absolutely lush and comfortable with its large chairs and sofas facing a large entertainment system, while the kitchen featured granite table tops and dark wood, it was fully stocked, giving Marie the impression that he did know how to cook, or hired someone for the job, and the dining room featured a large carved wooden table with a lovely centerpiece of candles, sculpture, fabric, wire and plants.
Marie was getting bored of the tedious task of watching him do such a boring task, but she had to admit that it was an excuse, to divert her brain from focusing on other things of Mr. Lord's. Luckily, moments later, the handsome man yawned and decided he'd done enough. Turning off his computer and packing away his papers, he then left his desk and went down the hall to what Marie knew to be the door to the master bath room, and unfortunately for her, she couldn't see anything after he entered the room, as the angle she was currently at prohibited it. Torn between privacy and her need to find out more about Mr. Lord, Marie debated her next move. She could move to another roof top, she'd scanned all the databanks on Mr. Lord's and the surrounding buildings' security or she could wait it out, there was a better chance she didn't get caught that way through moving. As she weighed her options, she continued to scan his apartment for any activity just in case.
Admit it girl, your desire to move doesn't have very much to do with furthering the mission…
Just as she was about to come to her decision, a deep, melodious, taunting voice whispered a hair's breath away from her ear, tickling her skin with the sensation of warm breath, "Like what you see?"
Marie's breath hitched in surprise. She didn't hear anything. Adrenaline began coursing through her body, causing her to react on instinct, she rolled her body, so that she was now facing her enemy, who was bent at the waist to whisper to her and in the blink of an eye, used her legs and her momentum, to kick him off the roof.
Marie sprang to her feet and stared down the side of the building, looking for the splatter of a body on the sidewalk, rapidly getting more tense as she realized there was none. Preparing her battle stance, she readied herself for anything.
Behind her she heard a laugh, spinning, she saw him, uttering, "Looking for me?" with a condescending smirk, making her blood boil. Oh she would wipe that smile off his face. He must have swung himself up, catching his hands on some part of the roof, twisting back to safe ground. She now knew he was if anything acrobatic, swift, not to mention silent, factors that let her know that he had to have training of some sort, but his skill in battle had yet to be challenged or tested and that's what brought a smile to her face. She loved the battle, a fight to test her physical endurance, show her grace and cunning. It was what she was best at, what made her truly her father's daughter. And that was why at this moment, she didn't much care that her cover was perhaps blown.
She couldn't see him well in the dark, he was too far from her, but she could make out the flapping of his trench coat as it was teased by the wind, the clunking of his boots on the concrete and his tall, lean, yet muscular build. Marie could tell he had a large height advantage on her, due to her height estimation. However, she was undaunted, he'd proven himself to be quiet, but she analyzed that he could be using that to his advantage to avoid fights. So then why provoke her, unless he was confident in his fighting ability? But then, he could have underestimated her and she was more than willing to find out which of her hypotheses were correct.
Bravely, she decided to speak, in her natural voice, so as to throw off suspicion, "What if Ah am?"
Another laugh, he was starting to grate on her nerves and patience. Her eyes narrowed. Casually, the man stepped out of the shadows into the dim light cast by the surrounding buildings, revealing Robert Lord himself, to Marie's mild surprise. This definitely set into motion that he did in fact have ties to the MSF.
"Then you're in trouble, little girl," he remarked condescendingly with more than a hint of darkness, letting Marie see another side of him that she had not bore sight to. If anything, it seemed that he only let those who threatened him see this side, the side that made him appear intimidating, ruthless, and cunning.
Marie decided to make the first move, crossing the distance between them, rapidly, she launched a punch aimed at his face. He blocked it easily with his arm, Marie only smiled, she would enjoy this; he did have some skill after all. Testing his skill, she faked a punch, watching him suck in his gut and move out of the way, while in reality, she launched a kick at his legs, launching him onto his back.
She was undaunted as he placed his hands on either side of his head, pulled his legs towards his face and flipped forward back to his feet with a quirky, "My turn now."
He made a motion to grab her arm, Marie moved out of the way, but couldn't avoid a swift kick, which landed her on her side. Just as he was about to punch her, she rolled out of the way, and grabbed his punching arm, to take him down with her. As he fell to his side, Marie reemerged onto her feet, realizing that she had pulled something off his wrist in his fall, a watch that appeared to have gotten broken in the scuffle, as it was now shooting sparks, wires drawn bare from the casing. Pocketing it, as it could be useful for Beast to study, Marie focused on her enemy, who let out a laugh and slowly rolled to face her, which exposed a pair of crimson and obsidian eyes and coppery auburn hair, instead of grey blue eyes and black hair.
Marie's widened eyes displayed confusion and surprise at what appeared before her, letting her stance becoming slightly lazy. An…an image inducer?
His voice changed, "Well, dis certainly makes t'ings interestin'," becoming distinctively Cajun.
He smiled at her look of befuddlement, using her bewilderment to his advantage, looking self assured, not allowing the implications to deter him, "Surprise." It was predatory, sly and smoke of something vicious to come.
What the hell is going on?
(Cue music. If possible, I'd listen to Illegal I Song by Velvet Revolver during the fight; it's so perfect for their battle…Oh yeah, and I just have to stop this here…but that song is definitely a great prelude as to what will happen. And for the holsters, think the album art for Velvet Revolver's Contraband with the chick's gun held on her thigh.)
I never EVER in my entire life wanted to think about that again. Those times when all I could see were bodies, bodies barely alive, broken and lifeless, but somehow still alive, but hollow; the incarnadine blood everywhere, so much so that I wondered if I could ever wash it off from my hands, because I doubted that all the water in the ocean would ever do the job; the screams of the uttermost agony punctuated like staccato of the grimy tainted walls; an endless array of cages, mercilessly holding us all; the unforgiving knife, the frozen table, the vile concoctions sipped like cocktails overbearing, inducing gag reflexes; their resounding, mocking, taunting laughter ringing through the halls; that smell ingrained in your memory of human carnage, remains, ammonia and that scent of death that wouldn't leave, that was stifling, where all you feel is pain, emotional, mental, physical, spiritual; …and her…It was hell, my absolute and total hell.
I couldn't run; I couldn't escape it ever. I felt all the torture their tools left on my body, imprinted forever in those unforgotten scars littered all over my body, more than I already needed. I lived it because I had to, it was my choice.
I blocked this out. I couldn't deal with it, the memories, those horrible memories, the nightmares depriving me of the innocence of sleep and the wounds of knowing. I had no peace. So I chose to forget, forget as much as I could, so I could survive, so I could keep on living.
But I couldn't forget her and I never tried.
She haunts me still with her eyes that begged, begged to die, if only to leave this place, if only to escape, because it was the only way, begging me to please do it for her, because she couldn't do it herself. She had no hope left, no life within those empty eyes. She had been made weak and pathetic by her captors, not by choice, but she was broken. She haunts me now, still, forever.
She had hair the color of cinnamon and white, auburn with the marking of an angel, reminding me of that warm safe place, where as I child I'd hide, to wait for the thunder and rain to quietly pass me by. She had eyes greener than a new leaf as the twilight crossed the Earth, eyes that I was sure would look like the richest of emeralds when life returned and porcelain white skin like a China doll you were afraid to break, because that's what she was, a China doll, and you have to be careful, you can't break her because she's much to beautiful and she has to be treasured. She was in the hell with me, then. She was part of it, like I was, I remember her, I remember them cracking the porcelain and casting breaking veins on her body, trying to break her, like that mark forever etched into her hand.
She's right in front of me.
(Little allusion to Macbeth up there, can you spot it? Oh and a little Guns N' Roses 'Sweet Child O' Mine'. I love that song, mostly for that starting riff courtesy of Slash. Amazing.)
UP NEXT: PART I: CHAPTER SEVEN: MY PERSONAL WESTLEY
A little allusion to one of the BEST books of all time, The Princess Bride for being above all else a satire on established archetypes and true love, so I'm sure you'll have some idea of what'll happen, think the ravine and the infamous 'Reunion Scene' and no, I won't gyp you, although, that's one of the reasons why I liked the movie, but for the record, the book's better and lovelier.
I hope you guys are less confused as to what's going on now and even more confused…lol! But fear not, all shall be revealed next chapter, although you do see how it went from dinner to killing each other…lol. I hope this provided you to a few more links as to what is happening. More battles to come. AME is to come next. Look for that soon.
I'm very proud as to how this turned out and well, this just really helped me get back into the groove of writing and doing work, feeling that something was worth it again, if only for that rush. I guess Fanfiction is a good cure for those little tragedies in life, that aren't really tragedies after all.
Enjoy and thanks for reading.
PLEASE REVIEW!
simba317
