A/N: Sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter but I've been poorly with some mystery illness for the past two weeks, but I'm better now. I think there's a bit of a jump in the story later on, you'll understand when you read it, and I apologize for it but writers block refuses to let me fill it. As usual I have spell checked and proof read this story many times but mistakes still slip through.
Thank you for allyour wonderful reviews!
"Any luck mon ami?" Remy raced towards the one man in the mansion he actually dared to call his friend, everyone else was just another person in passing, except from possibly the woman who had managed to drag him here too. The beast of a man hung his shoulders and shook his head slowly, offering a small smile as comfort. "Dat bad?"
"I can't even smell her scent anywhere and I doubt Logan's doing any better. Betsy can't reach her telepathically either." He wrapped a furry blue arm over Remy's shoulders and guided the exhausted young man away. He watched intently as the usually upbeat and cocky Cajun sat on the very tip of the chair, his head in his hands as he stared at the floor silently.
"Dey find her again if she gone t' far, non?" He glanced sideways to his company never removing his head from his hands. "Hank?" Remy's voice begged for an answer and he longed to tell his friend that it was not a possibility but it was, in fact it was most likely already done if she had travelled too greater distance from the mansion grounds. Hank's head dropped into one of his large paws.
"If she's gone too far it's probably already too late." All he heard was the depressed sigh that escaped the young man's lips before he fell back into silence. Hank watched silently over his friend as he remained unmoving, in fact he would have sworn him dead had he not been able to hear every breath that shook his body with a growing ferocity. Both continued to remain silent as Betsy walked to the doorway of the room and shrugged, offering a sympathetic smile, like Hank, before she quickly left the depressing atmosphere of the room. His attention was quickly caught as a loud frustrated noise escaped the man and he pushed his way out of the room. All that caught Hank's attention was a playing card fizzling out in the centre of the fireplace, the queen of hearts.
Rogue sat silently hugging her knees to her chest as she bit down on the nail currently held between her teeth, careful not to break it in the process. Her mind was distant and she seemed unable to hold any real focus on the beautiful rose garden surrounding her. Instead she just stared intently into space as if it held all the answers when she already knew it did not. She removed the nail from the grasp of her teeth and began drawing faintly over the skin of her lips with it, the sensation it caused sent shivers down her spine. She gave up on idly staring at nothing and forced herself back to reality; she leant back on the perfectly trimmed hedge and closed her eyes, begging for the darkness of sleep to consume her.
"Any luck child?" The voice as soft and smooth, the pronunciation of each word perfectly thought out before it was spoken. Rogue shifted her position on the cold stone bench and sat upright leaning subconsciously towards the hedge over which she could hear the voice.
"No. Betsy an' Hank didn't 'ave much luck either. We ain't seen Logan since he left." Remy! Yet again she could feel her mind split. They'd probably all been looking for her and she should have gone back sooner, she glanced up at the last of the dusky evening sky, definitely sooner. But she was like a walking curse and it really was better that they just forgot they ever met her, but they'd shown her such kindness, such acceptance, it would be rude to throw it in their face.
"You know Logan he'll be back when he's ready, probably off sulking somewhere." That voice, it sounded so familiar, like she had heard it somewhere before and yet she was sure that she had not.
"Quoi but Remy ain't worryin' 'bout Logan. If dat fille gone t' far she be back where she was jus' de other day." She shooed away the smile that threatened her lips, his concern was genuine and she wanted to thank him for that much but she couldn't just walk out and scream, 'Ta Da'. Not after the panic she appeared to have caused.
"Give the girl some credit, she's stronger than she seems." Then she heard it, a small glimpse of his rich laughter and she wanted to be drowned in that sound.
"Quoi, quoi, Stormy. Already got a taste of dat t'day." She couldn't see them but she could imagine the woman raising a questioning eyebrow to him, suggesting that he had meant something crude. The woman sighed in irritation.
"Must you always use that silly name?"
"Mmm." She could imagine the stupid lopsided smirk plastered on his face as she listened to his words. Then she heard his sigh of depression and it felt like someone had crushed her fragile heart with their bare hands. "What dis poor ol' Cajun gonna do Stormy?"
"That bad my friend?" There was sympathy in the woman's voice, of that there was no doubt.
"Mais, even Scott would 'ave a field day wit' dis."
"That is bad! Oh Remy don't fret about it I'm sure all is well."
"Remy jus' wish he had de same faith Stormy, really I do." What was she waiting for? She lingered at the edge of the hedge and even managed to catch a quick glimpse at the couple sat side by side in a friendly embrace. She bit down on her bottom lip, she'd messed up, misused the trust they had given her and put fear in all of their hearts and yet it frightened her so much too just walk over and say sorry.
She watched as they walked towards the glass doors of a conservatory overflowing with plant life, forever keeping her body out of sight as she tried to battle away the fear. She tightly clamped her eyes shut as she took an unsteady breath and bit hard on her bottom lip.
"Remy." Her voice wasn't very loud and she was sure that they would have missed it as they entered the glass room. She tried to speak again, to call out, but her voice refused to leave her throat. Despite the quietness of her voice a puzzled and hopeful Remy glanced back outside the door.
"Rogue?" His voice was unsteady and his furrowed brow suggested that he did not trust what he saw, convinced that it was a trick of his mind. She held eye contact for only a short moment before she dipped her head and intertwined her fingers as she tried to build the courage to free her voice. No matter how hard she tried the sounds just seemed to get stuck at the back of her throat and only silence remained. Eventually she sighed in defeat and seated herself on the stone bench where the couple had been sat moments before. Slowly and unsurely he walked over to the bench and seated himself next to her as if she were a delicate butterfly that would fly away as soon as it sensed him.
"Ah'm . . ." Her voice trailed off as it failed her again. She gripped her forehead at the annoyance her loss of speech was beginning to have on her, never before had her nerves or fears been given psychical form, she'd even laughed in the face of men that held blades to her throat, before she was impenetrable. Yet she could not, no mater how much she desired it, fight out the words. Maybe this wasn't fear or nerves maybe this was just guilt, and as far as she was concerned that was exactly how she should have been feeling, guilty. Finally she slammed her hand down on the bench in frustration.
"Ya what? Ya not hurt are ya?" As he asked he reached for the bare skin of her arm before hesitating, aware of what Logan had said earlier. She ignored his actions as his hand lingered just off her skin and shook her head in response to his question. "What den girl?" He asked as he watched her, his hand dropped to the stone bench and was then place directly next to hers. She fought away her fear and indecisions and finally managed to speak.
"Ah'm sorry, ah didn't mean t' be a nuisance. Ah just, ah . . ." she trailed off again as his facial expression changed very little. She tucked her legs up against her chest again and shivered as a cool breeze flew past them convinced that they hated her, that he hated her. Remy smiled softly and removed the trench coat from his body.
"Here, don' want ya getting' cold." He told her as he draped the coat over her shoulders. She bit her lip and smiled graciously.
"Thank ya."
"An' don' worry, ya safe dats all dat matters, non?" She shrugged. "Come on ya could probably do wit' some food an' I ain't exactly eaten either." As if on queue his stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. She smiled and he shrugged back before her own stomach responded to the growl of his. He let a small laugh escape him and smiled widely at her. "Hope all dat time in dat prison ain't made ya loose ya appetite for southern cookin'." He told her as he dragged her back into the mansion, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. As he dragged her away she didn't fail to notice the woman, with a chocolate complexion and snowy white hair, eye them both knowingly.
After changing and following the directions Remy had given her before leaving her to clean up for dinner she finally managed to stumble across the kitchen. She smiled and tried to bite her lip in order to stop the giggles trying to escape her mouth as she watched Remy standing over the cooker singing loudly and out of key to a song on the radio. When his voice went up in pitch she couldn't contain the laughter or the need to cringe anymore and let out a small giggle that caught his attention. Almost immediately he stiffened up. "Ya been dere a while Cherie?" She nodded and he quickly and silently turned back to the food. She worked her way around the room until she was stood next to him, leaning over the cooker to inspect the food.
She sighed in content as she smelt the aroma of the meal. Remy took the time to glance over what she was dressed in while she was distracted. Jeans made of faded grey denim sat comfortably on her hips while a jade green top hugged her torso and arms. Her damp hair was beginning to dry in rounded curls and her lips were still tinged scarlet from the heat of the shower. She glanced at him questioningly as he finally made it to her emerald eyes, obviously aware that he had been studying her.
"Not much else wasn't purple." She informed him as if he had somehow given her the impression that he disliked her choice of clothing.
"Dat sounds 'bout right." He gave her a smile before he stirred whatever he was cooking. Abandoning the spoon in the pan he took her hand in his and pulled her into his personal space. Raising a hand he brushed stray white curls from her face. "Ya look trés belle." He almost spoke in a purr and instinctively she backed away from the hold. He quickly released his grasp, almost afraid that he had hurt her fragile form.
"Ah'm sorry ah didn't mean t' . . ." She smiled nervously as she cradled her hands against her chest. Remy shrugged.
"No need t' be sorry. Dis ol' Cajun jus' don' know when he be pushin' his luck is all." She smiled and relaxed enough to release her hands and drop them to her sides. "'Sides, thought dat skin o' yours was, pardon de expression, 'poisonous'." She glanced down at her hands.
"It was." She shook her head, that wasn't right. "It still is." Remy looked confused for a moment.
"Ya can control it, non?" She nodded her head gently as if unsure it was really that simple.
"Ya learn quickly when they threaten t' break ya legs if ya do wrong." Remy nodded slowly, he too had been in a place that he wanted no one else to experience when the x-men had found him and, to be frank, saved his life.
"What about Logan?" She looked confused by the name.
"Logan?"
"De man from earlier, Wolverine."
"Oh, ya mean James right?" Now it was his turn to look confused, he'd heard Logan called by more names than he could count but James wasn't one of them. "Ah shouldn't have said anythin'." She looked worried, her eyes wide with panic as if a secret had escaped her. Remy considered it for a moment.
"We all got secrets Cherie, ain't no need t' worry, Remy ain't gonna tell no one." She smiled in gratitude and leant over the cooker again. "Ya hungry?" He asked with a smile as he observed her eagerly eyeing up the food. She smiled shyly and backed away from the cooker.
"A little, ah guess."
"Ya go sit down, let moi worry 'bout de rest." She shuffled round the breakfast bar to the two arranged places that she had failed to observe as she entered the room and seated herself.
Sure enough after a few moments of fussing Remy was placing two plates of food down on the surface and seating himself across from her. She could feel his eyes on her as she pushed around some of the meal before placing a small amount in her mouth. As soon as she had she desired more, the food filled her mouth with the taste of all the species she had familiarised with Remy's scent and soon she realised it was not only the food she desired.
"Sorry it ain't fresh, didn't have time t' make it properly jus' heat up some Stormy saved for me." She tried desperately to speak but all that escaped past her lips was a moan of delight. Instantly she shied away and dipped her head, he smiled in amusement. "Dat good cherie?"
"Ah guess it's been a while since ah had real food." She reasoned as she concentrated on fighting away her desires for the Cajun man by filling her stomach. Remy followed suit and eagerly dug into his own meal. They ate quietly, occasionally glancing to each other but always after the other had turned away.
Once she had eaten all that she dared she gave the dish a small shove away from her and sighed contently.
"'S matter cherie ya don' like?" Remy asked as he shovelled the last of his own meal into his mouth. She smiled as best she could.
"Ah really don' think ah could eat anythin' else right now." She offered a shy smile. Remy shrugged and took the time to swallow the food in his own mouth before pulling her dish further towards him. She opened her mouth in protest but he jumped in.
"Ain't no point in lettin' good Cajun food go t' waste."
"Ah suppose." She mumbled as he began on what was left of her food. She watched him as he quickly managed to finish the food on her plate as if not an ounce of his own had satisfied his hunger. She watched half in amazement and half in horror almost unable to comprehend how he could possibly not feel full. "Aren't ya full?" She asked as he sighed in satisfactions and stacked the plates.
"Quoi, but food like dat Remy jus' can' pass up." She smiled slightly, conscious of how the spices still intoxicated her taste buds just as the young man with her made her mind swarm with un-pure thoughts.
She was sitting idly on the cool tiles of the mansion roof gently pushing back the curls that tickled her cheek as they danced on the chilly breeze. Tugging at the blanket she had lifted from the room Remy had given her to sleep in, she kept it wrapped firmly around her shoulders. She heard the foot steps and smelt the cigar odour long before she heard the voice that gave the stranger an identity.
"Such pretty young eyes shouldn't know such sorrow." She dropped her gazed to her knees as the blanket slid down on the right side.
"No they shouldn't." She didn't disagree with him, she shouldn't have known that sorrow, and she shouldn't have had to live through the heart ache; but she could not sympathise either, because she had.
"You blame me?" He was the closest she had ever had to a real parent, even a woman who could make herself look like the little girl's parent had been less of one than he had, could she blame him?
"Ah don't know." She whispered as she rested her chin against the top of her knees. He stubbed out the cigar butt and let if roll from the roofs cascading tiles as he stamped at the ground with his heel uncomfortably.
"I think I would if I were you." He admitted, again he foot was lifted and lowered to the ground as if accessing its stability.
"You used to do that whenever you passed my cell door." She mumbled into her knees perfectly aware that he had heard weather she intended it so or not. He glanced down to her as she continued to look down over her knees, following the line of the roof's edge.
"Blame myself, darlin'? I did that every time I saw those emeralds shining out in the dark, or heard ya kicking up a fuss, broke my heart every time I heard you weep 'cause of them." She fought back the tears well, years of practise meant she concealed almost every emotion and memory with perfect precision, but those were the only ones that got the better of her. Her nostrils flared in the tail-tell way and her every breath trembled as it escaped her dry lips.
"Ah meant, the foot tapping." She fought out the words, forcing the tears away from them but they still trembled upon leaving her lips.
"Someone used to do it back." He offered quietly as he seated himself next to the young woman. She raised her head long enough to glance into his icy blue eyes and then dropped her head into her hands, her elbows perfectly balanced on her knees. Logan smiled sympathetically; taking the blanket from her he unfolded it and draped the fully sized material around her before wrapping his arms over her shoulders in a sideways embrace.
They remained that way, silently for hours before the silence was broken by the familiar sound of a foot, drumming a tune on the tiles under it.
