Disclaimer: Yeah, like you actually expected that Marvel had relinquished their hold on these characters. Maybe in the next lifetime.
A/N: Whoo-hoo! I bet y'all had to rub your eyes a couple of times, painfully pinch your own arm, and blink at the computer screen once or twice, trying to see if this would disappear or not. O ye of little faith! That's right, people! It's an actual chapter. And no, it won't vanish if you touch it. (Well, for crying out loud! Don't try to make it go away! *shooes several curious hands away*) After a year and two months, we finally have an update. Now for those of you who for some reason or another might feel the urge to do me physical harm for the horrendous delay, I offer you the plot bunnies instead. We all know they're the ones to blame anyway. ; )
Now normally I do review responses but let's face it, how many of you actually remember what you said in a review you left more than a year ago? *crickets chirp in the silence* That's what I thought. Don't worry though, all the annoying little insane comments will be back and in full swing when the next chapter rolls around... that is, assuming you all reveiw. *hint, hint, wink, wink* ; )
CHAPTER 6
Cells and Sketches
Remy smiled down at the cinnamon and cream tresses that lightly rested on his right shoulder and then snaked down the length of his arm. He'd been awake for the past half hour, but hadn't moved much since that time. He didn't want to disturb the sleeping beauty that was dreaming away peacefully in his arms. She was turned toward him, head resting on his chest, and arm slung over his body like he was a giant teddy bear she couldn't help but cuddle next to. Not that he had any problem with that. He actually wouldn't have minded if she snuggled up to him for the rest of the days in his miserable and misbegotten life.
She whimpered slightly, as if she had heard the negative perception he had on his existence and was protesting the thought. He wrapped his arms around her even tighter and whispered softly to her in French. He knew she couldn't understand what he was saying, even if she had been awake, but the soothing tone and the warmth in his embrace was enough to quiet whatever had upset her.
"Shh, petite..." he whispered, brushing his lips gently against her forehead. "Shhh... I'm right here."
It was a place he missed being, he realized with some surprise - being there next to her. He hadn't been for a while; for the better part of a month, actually. College life had taken up most of her time, and while he was aware of the infinite value of a formal education, he would have much rather been with her, giving her his own brand of "teaching."
"Yoah thinkin' 'bout somethin' naughty again, ain'tcha, Cajun?"
He grinned. "You know me, chère... not'in' in dis head o' mine but wholesome t'oughts."
She scoffed, turning to rest her chin on his chest so that she could look up at him. "Wholesome like last night was wholesome?" she asked.
His grin widened. How well she knew him. "Even more so," he teased. Leaning down, he touched a sweet kiss to her lips. "Sleep good?"
"Mmmmm..." was all she said as she stretched out her body like a sleepy cat, grazing her fingertips across the wood of the headboard. Relaxing again, she snuggled closer to him.
"Figured as much, since you were snorin' up a storm loud enough t' wake de other side o' de country."
"Ah do not snore!"
"Yes, you do."
"Ah don't!"
"You did."
She propped herself up on an elbow and glared down at him. "Ah did not, Gambit."
A smirk was tugging at the edge of his mouth, but he thought better of letting it show. She only used his work name when she was pissed, and judging from the daggers that she was throwing in his direction, she was pretty much two seconds shy of getting there.
"I'm sorry t' be de one t' break it t' you, mignonne, but you do an' you did. An' since I knew you wouldn't believe me..." He reached over to the nightstand to his left, groping around until his fingers came in contact with his cell phone. "... I got myself a li'l bit o' proof."
"What, you gon' call some specialist who can verify that Ah snore when Ah sleep?"
"Good idea, but non." He pushed a series of buttons on the phone until the unmistakable sound of snoring filled the silence. "Got a full thirty seconds o' you goin' at it, chère." He didn't even try to hide the smirk this time.
Rogue raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You expect me ta believe that's me you've got there, swamp rat? Fo' all Ah know you recorded yoahself, or somebody else. Heck that could be a dog snorin' an' we wouldn't know!"
"Denial is an interestin' t'ing, ain't it?"
"You would know, Cajun." She smiled sweetly, patting his cheek like a child before throwing off the covers and climbing out of bed. "Better get goin', sugah, before Logan gets up."
"Kickin' me outta ya bed, now are you, mon amour?"
"Why, Remy, Ah think you might be jus' a li'l bit confused," she said softly, leaning down to his eyelevel, a look of pity swimming in her eyes. "Ah always kick you outta mah bed. It's not mah fault that you jus' can't stay away from mah pretty face an' allurin' charms."
He captured her waist and pulled her back down to him, settling her body comfortably atop his own. The warmth emanating from her skin was causing his nerves to stand at attention, leaving a delicious tingling sensation to ripple all the way down to his toes. Her nearness had always had that effect on him.
Okay, well maybe not 'always,' he thought ruefully, reminiscing about the first few years they had known each other. 'Arguing like cats and dogs' was an understatement. World War III seemed much more appropriate. They could have probably made a number-one hit reality show out of their verbal battles. All they would have needed was a camera crew and a two-bit host commenting on all the action.
"You remember dat day you started fallin' madly in love wit' me, chère?"
"You mean that day Ah was brainwashed an' tricked inta goin' out with you?"
He feigned a hurt look.
She rolled her eyes before she decided to play along and see where he was taking the conversation. "Yes, Ah remember."
"You 'member bein' at dat jazz club, lookin' across de room, an' t'inkin' t' yaself 'Damn! Dat homme is jus' drop-dead gorgeous!'"
"Yeah, Remy, that's exactly what Ah thought ta mahself," she bit out sarcastically.
He continued as if she hadn't commented. "Den you realized it was me, an' you said, 'Aah, no wonder... it's Remy.' After dat, you jus' couldn't keep ya hands off o' me. Admit it."
Rogue sighed. She should have known that was where he was taking the conversation. "You, mister, are impossible."
"But I'm cute." He smiled to prove his point.
"Yoah annoyin'."
"Yet debonair."
"Cocky."
"But charming."
"Incorrigible."
"Irresistible..." he whispered huskily, dropping his eyes suggestively to her lips.
"Dead is what you'll be if Logan finds you here," she reminded him again. She noticed where his gaze was focused and felt the familiar thrill of excitement shoot through her system. He was only inches away from her, and getting closer by the second. Slowly... slowly...
The sharp ring of a phone broke the spell. She heard Remy curse in French under his breath.
"Ignore it," he advised, snuggling her closer so that he could begin nuzzling her neck.
"It could be important."
"More important dan me?"
"Oh, quit with th' puppy dog eyes, Cajun. You'll never be as cute as Ah am."
"I beg t' differ."
She looked down at his arms imprisoning her against him. "Mah cell ain't gon' levitate outta mah bag an' come flyin' across th' room, you know."
"Give it a minute. Maybe it's jus' warmin' itself up f'r de flight."
Smiling, she pushed against his hold, satisfied that he didn't put up any resistance this time. She crossed the room and dug into her handbag, pulling out the ringing phone.
"Hello? ... Oh hey, Pete... No, no, it's not too early..."
"Yes, it is," Remy called from the bed.
"Hush, you," Rogue scolded. "No, not you, Pete. Jus' talkin' ta th' fam'ly dog." She stuck her tongue out at Remy, who barked playfully. He rose from the bed and came up from behind to wrap his arms around her. "What was that again, Pete?"
Remy smirked. At least he knew his touch was distracting her. He kissed her bare shoulder.
"Ah'm sorry?"
Try an' have a meaningful conversation wit' me around you, mignonne, he thought wickedly, skimming his hands ever so lightly across her stomach. Be as hard as gettin' a Cajun t' hate spicy food. His own stomach grumbled at the thought of food. He vaguely wondered if she could feel the rumbling. Her sudden giggle indicated that she did. Unless of course she was laughing at something that this Pete character had said. He scowled when he heard a succeeding chuckle escape her throat.
"No problem, sugah, don' worry about it. Ah don' mind at all... Uh-huh... Do you need me ta bring anythin'? ... Okay then. Yoah place, after lunch. Great! See ya."
"You seein' some other homme behind my back, chèrie?" he asked when she had ended the call. "'Cause I c'n tell you right now, you ain't gon' ever find anyone better dan me."
"So you keep tellin' me, swamp rat." She turned around in his arms, favoring him with a smile. "Jealous much?"
"Toujours." He couldn't resist pulling her into another kiss, feeling her body mold itself closer to his as if by instinct. He felt her breath catch in her throat as his hands explored lower and lower down her body. "T'ink I'm gon' have t' show you jus' how jealous a guy I c'n be, mon coeur."
"An' how long would that take us?" She was having a difficult time focusing. Being this close to Remy never failed to throw her senses into a chaotic frenzy. If the man could bottle whatever he was using on her, he'd become a billionaire a number of times over.
"Oh, I'd say jus' 'bout de rest o' ya life..." He lightly nipped at the tip of her nose, then did the same to her lower lip. "Wan' start now?"
His mouth had found its way to her neck, and the butterfly kisses it was leaving there were slowly breaking her defenses down. "You tryin' ta tempt me, Cajun?"
"Whenever I c'n..."
"Ah can't, sugah... not t'day..." He had gradually guided her back to the bed, settling her smoothly on his lap as his mouth continued its loving worship of her skin. "Ah really can't... Ah promised Pete Ah'd help him with a project..."
Taking hold of her wrists, he lifted her arms so that they wrapped themselves around his shoulders. With gentle ease, he lowered both of them onto the mattress, enjoying the feel of her weight on top of him. "What project?" he asked quietly. Not that he actually cared. The project the two of them were currently working on was much more interesting to him. Not to mention a hell of a lot more fun.
"... jus' some project fo' a class..." His lips were tracing the curve of her collarbone. Shivers were racing down her spine in waves. "... a nude sketch fo' his art class..."
Every single muscle in Remy's body froze. Even his breath seemed to cease its rhythmic pattern. He couldn't have heard that right. He couldn't have.
"Quoi?" he inquired cautiously. The untamed passion between them had just screwed up his hearing for a second or two, he reasoned. He knew she didn't say what he thought she said.
The abrupt halt of both his hands and his mouth dumbfounded her. She didn't fully comprehend why all the delicious little caresses had stopped so suddenly. "Quoi what?"
"What did you say?" His tone was clipped. He was trying very hard to keep his voice even.
She propped herself up. His lack of emotion or expression was bothering her. "Ah said that Ah was helpin' out mah friend Pete with a sketch fo' his art class."
"A nude sketch?"
"Yeah, so?"
Remy stared at her as if she were insane for not understanding. "You ain't doin' it, Rogue. Call ya friend back an' tell him t' find someone else."
"Excuse me?!" she asked incredulously. "Ah'm gon' do what now? An' why?"
"You ain't doin' not'in'! An' ya gon' do dat not'in' wit' all ya clothes on!"
O' all th' nerve...! she huffed, pushing herself roughly off of him and the bed. She began pacing a small square of carpet in an attempt to diffuse some of her anger. "Who th' hell are you ta tell me what Ah can an' cannot do, LeBeau?!"
"Who de hell am I, chère? I'm ya boyfriend, dat's who! An' no woman o' mine is strippin' in front o' another man."
"No woman o' yoahs? What, do you live in th' Stone Age or somethin'?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "An' Ah'm not strippin'! Ah'm posin' fo' a sketch. It would be th' same thing if Ah were havin' a portrait done."
"Yeah, 'cept ya naked! What's after dis, huh? Playboy? Penthouse?"
"Ah can't believe yoah actin' like this, Remy! It's nothin'! Pete is a friend! There's nothin' sexual about it! It's completely innocent!"
He stopped and explained to her as if she were a child, "Chère, dere's no such t'ing as 'innocent' when a man an' a naked woman are alone in a room t'gether. Believe me."
"Only when th' man is you!" she shot back.
Remy stood and collected his clothes from where they were haphazardly thrown on the floor. Only slightly calmer, he began to dress. "We ain't arguin' about dis anymore, Rogue. You ain't doin' it. Dat's de end o' it. Dere are certain t'ings in my life dat I keep f'r my eyes only."
If she weren't so angry at his overbearing, possessive behavior, she would have thought that comment was very sweet. But since she was angry, it rolled off her like water off a duck's back. "Ah'll do what Ah damn well please, Gambit," she seethed.
And there it was, her independent nature. She hated being told what to do, and rebelled viciously whenever someone tried to force their will on her. Even Logan sometimes had a difficult time getting her to listen to reason.
Speaking of Logan... "I bet ya brother would jus' love t' hear about his baby sister's li'l art project. No doubt he'll be thrilled t' death about it."
She lost a touch of her anger. He was playing the Logan card on her. He knew that if anyone could talk her out of something it was her brother. Despite all the fights, and the butting heads, and the sibling rivalry, there was no one on Earth whose opinion she respected more than Logan's.
"You wouldn't dare," she hissed, narrowing her eyes.
"Try me, petite."
He was bluffing - he had to be. There was no way he could go to Logan and tell him about the sketch without suspicion brewing of how Remy knew about it. It would open the door to questions and might very well bring their secret romance to light.
He strode across the room, stopping only when he was a hair's breath away from her. "You have no idea how far I'll go to t' take care o' de t'ings dat mean somet'in' t' me, chèrie. You have no idea."
Before she could say anything in return, he slipped out of her bedroom window without a sound. It was several minutes before Rogue took her eyes away from the gracefully swaying curtains that he had disappeared through.
"You think you've won this, Remy LeBeau? Think again."
Ah, it feels so good to be writing again! I never thought I'd miss it this much. You know what else I missed? REVIEWS! ; ) I'm curious to see how many people I used to know are still around the site. Of course I wouldn't mind meeting some new people either! ; )
Well anyway, I'm off to try and update another story. Might as well do as much as I can while I'm on a roll. A big chocolate chip cookie to anyone who can guess which story it is. ; )
