Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.
thoughts
telepathy
A/N: I had a little trouble writing dialogue when more that three people were in the picture. Sometimes there are two conversations going on at once. I put horizontal lines around side conversation and the conversation before the lines sometimes picked up immediately after the side conversation.
NINE TO FIVE: Chapter Sixteen - Are you my dentist or my bartender?
"Hey, Dante (1)," the big burly bouncer with the small 'fro greeted the former New Jersey native he just let by the door. "Aren't you a little late?"
"No," Dante grumbled. "I'm not even supposed to be here today!" Dante went on and on and on.
The bouncer quickly got fed up with his whining and waved goodbye to signify the end of the conversation. Dante turned and head into the Neptune Night Club.
"I feel like a bloody piker." St. John Allerdyce looked down at his ensemble of jeans, a denim jacket, and a worn, bright yellow Dungeons and Dragons cartoon tee, then around at the various shades of black everyone else was donning.
"Stop whining," his date Wanda Maximoff requested. "You're almost as bad as that bartender trying to get in."
"But at least I can whine in a cute accent." John reveled in Wanda's comment she made earlier in the day.
"You are never going to let that go, will you?" the witch asked irritated.
"Didn't plan on it."
"That is what ya get for givin' him a compliment," Rogue told her friend.
"I'll never make that mistake again," Wanda responded as the three entered the club.
A ruckus was starting at the back of the line to the Neptune Night Club. The bouncer halted the line and stormed back to the disturbance. "What's going on here?" he rested his hand on the troublemaker's shoulder and was surprised to see Dante.
"Thank goodness," Dante said. "These people wouldn't believe me that I worked here and needed to get back inside."
The bouncer was confused. "But I let you in five minutes ago."
"I know, but just my luck I go ahead and forget my bartending license and the big bossman is here tonight," Dante explained. "I had to run back to my car and get it."
The bouncer nodded and led the way back up to the front of the line. Something didn't feel right, but he let Dante in anyway. A few seconds later it hit him: Since when did Dante have a car?
The bartender walked into the club and observed his surroundings. Mostly women there tonight, but everyone was dressed in dark clothes and spiked jewelry. Not to mention all the piercings, and those are just the visible ones. If this didn't look like this practically every Tuesday night, nicknamed Freak Night, he might have been terrified. Usually they just played alternative, hard rock, or electronica music but tonight was a special night. It was the night Kittie came to town. Unbeknownst to the rest of the population, another presence had also just arrived in Bayville.
Dante saw the bar to his right, but instead turned left. Determinedly, the bartender walked into the men's bathroom, just to make sure there were no dead, old men in there (2).
"You go on backstage, luv," St. John shouted above the music to Wanda. "I have to visit the privy."
"The what?" she called back.
"The toilet! I have to use the toilet!" John happened to shout as the Dazzlers ended their first song. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stared at the Australian, who smiled and thought about pulling out his lighter and doing a little show since he had the audience's attention. But soon everyone went back to their own business and the band started up again.
Wanda and John split up. John didn't care for the song the band was playing so he started whistling his own tune. John pushed open the swinging door to the men's restroom only to have it stop only a quarter of the way. He backed up.
A girl with black and violet hair all parted to one side, a red camisole top and tights, a black mini skirt and combat boots threw open the door and glared at him. John gapped at her, not being able to comprehend why a woman was coming out of the men's room.
"The line was too long in the other," the girl commented in a British accent as she pushed past him. Eventually John shut his mouth and went in to finish was he went there to do.
Risty Wilde aka Mystique aka Raven Darkholme smiled broadly as she scanned the crowd. I can't wait to see the look on Rogue's face when she sees me. First, I have to make up that time I was locked away in Area 51. Next I have to start planning how to get back at that tight ass Scott Summers for putting me there. If she wasn't so excited to see her best friend/adopted daughter, she would have growled at the thought of Scott Summers. That and she was a little afraid that someone there might take a growl as a turn on.
Risty finally caught sight of her two-tone haired friend sitting at a table in the back, alone. In her hand, Rogue was fingering one unused ticket and thinking, I should have given this ticket to someone, Remy maybe. But it just didn't feel right. It was Risty's ticket, to give it to Remy felt like sacrilege. Rogue openly sighed. Then she felt a presence behind her. Risty? She thought as she expectantly turned around in her chair. Instead of her purple haired punk friend she saw a brown haired man with sunglasses and a trench coat.
"Evening, chere," Remy LeBeau greeted his friend. "Dis seat taken?" Remy indicated the chair to her left. Rogue shook her head and smiled as Remy took a seat.
Risty's smile dripped off her face. She saw the whole scene including Rogue's positive reaction to the Cajun's presence. Mystique recognized Gambit, knew his reputation and his past, and she was not one bit pleased that he and Rogue were socializing. I must be missing something. I have to get a closer look. Mystique knew that she could not do so in her Risty form, so she made her way to the dance floor first. To the casual observer Risty was dancing up a storm, but when the lights were dim or black out, her features would change ever so slightly. Fuller lips, higher cheekbones, rounder eyes, different nose. The grand finale was when she bent over, then rolled her body upwards while running her hand through her hair transforming the unusual violet and black hair into black dreads. Once finished Mystique glided off the dance floor and took a seat at the bar within ear and eye-shot of Rogue and Remy.
"How in the world did ya get in here, Remy?" she asked her companion. "The show has been sold out for months."
"I should be askin' you dat question," Remy responded. "Aren' you suppose to be grounded? And what happened to d'ose broken ribs and sprained wrist?"
"It's amazin' what ya can get for a picture o' someone's arch nemesis with multicolored fur," she smirked.
Remy shakes his head. "De Wolvie's gettin' soft in his old age."
"He just wanted ta make sure ah could beat up any slimy Cajuns ah happened to run into." Rogue took a sip of her Coca Cola. "How did ya happen ta get in here again?"
"Don' ya like me here?" Remy answered with a question.
"So far ah don't mind, but Ah'm sure ya'll piss meh off soon enough, and Ah'll be glad Logan gave meh his powers," Rogue replied. "Now are ya gonna answer mah question, o' ya gonna be all mysterious an' annoyin'?"
Remy sighed. "Fine, if it's really bothering you. See d'ose girls up there?" Remy pointed to the band on stage. The lead singer was pelting her lyrics from her chocolate colored lips into the microphone with a swing as she strummed a G7 cord on her electric guitar. To her right was a girl a bowl cut of thick, glittery black hair jamming on a keyboard. To the lead's left were a brass and woodwind player challenging each other. The woodwind player currently fingered a tenor saxophone and her bright green hair swayed with the beat. The brass player was putting her all into her trumpet as the climax of the song hit, her thin face expanding to impressive limits. Behind them was a Native American girl with two thick black braids underneath her black beret, who plucked the deep notes out of her upright bass. Then next to the bass player was bald, tattooed drummer, who had just tossed her drumsticks up into the air and caught them in a measure of rest. Their band put on a pretty good show and even had their own pyrotechnics and special lighting.
"Yeah, they're the Dazzlers, so? " Rogue said. The band onstage had a dark, jazzy rock sound, cross between Queens of the Stone Age and Fiona Apple.
Remy leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "You be lookin' at the man who brought d'em together." Rogue raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Just wait one minute an' I'll prove it to you," Remy said. They both sat and listened to the rest of the song.
"Thanks for comin'!" Allison Blaire shouted into her microphone before taking a swig of her water. She set down her guitar and poured a little of the cool liquid over her head and it fell to her milky brown scalp between her Jada Pinkett-Smith pin-curl style hair. "It's great ta be here playin' for ya here tonight. We don' make it up North too often, bein' from New Orleans an' all, but we have received de greatest hospitality here from you Yanks. Now, this next song we haven' sung since the first days o' the band, but tonight is very special. Our brass player here, your very own Trish Tilby is leavin' us ta pursue a career that actually utilizes her degree in journalism. Ya're looking at the next Channel One reporter! Yes, all o' you who are still in high school will be forced ta watch her every day. We're all real sad an' a little bitter ta have ta let her go, but that's how things go sometimes. 'Sides I'm gonna win what is beginning ta be a pretty large pot if she gets kicked outta more countries than Lisa Ling. We're all gonna miss ya Trish," the other band members agreed. Allison continued, "This is especially hard fo' me, since we've been best friends since grade school an' started the band together. Which reminds me . . . there is someone in the audience who I would like ta acknowledge. Remy," Ally called out. "Stand up, Remy."
Rogue's mouth gapped open when Remy stood up a green spotlight shown on their table. Remy grinned and waved to Ally. "Told ya I knew d'em," he told Rogue.
"Hi Remy!" Allison greeted. "This is the boy who brought us all together. We were all goo-goo over him, even Lila and Amelia back in the day, but he was a big tease. In order ta get us ta stop our separate ventures o' spyin' on his fiancé an' tellin' him how bad an' disloyal she was, he lured everyone ta Trish an' mine storage unit we practiced in, an' the rest is history." Ally finished her story and Remy sat back down. Then Allison added, "And so is his fiancé. But beware girls, from what I hear." She winked her eye with the tattooed electric blue eight-point star over it at The Rogue. "He's as good as taken. In fact, before the show, he was on the phone with me for two hours, convincin' me ta give him a ticket so he could surprise her -"
"Hey," Remy called to Ally. "Ya promised ya wouldn't say anythin' 'bout d'at!"
"I lied," she shrugged and giggled.
"Don' you have a song ta play or somethin'?" Remy reminded the band.
"I enjoy this much more." A mischievous smile crossed Ally's lips.
"Since we're reminiscin'-" Remy cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. "I'd like ta tell you all about Daz's disco phase -"
"I guess I'll just have ta tease ya more after the show," Ally interrupted him and the spotlight when back onstage. Ally picked her guitar and looked around to see that Lorna Dane had already switched from her normal instruments to maracas and a cabasa and had other miscellaneous percussion instruments including a djembes set out around her, and Patricia 'Trish' Tilby was on electric guitar. "Hey, girls, yal ready? Okay guys, this song is a cover called 'Girl from Ipanema.'" The song was played at least two and a half times its normal tempo and the electric guitars definitely made it an original cover that could not be classified anywhere near its original jazz genre.
Remy took his eyes offstage and looked back at the girl sitting next to him. She just shook her head and took a drink. "What?" he asked.
"Ah'm surprised, that's all," she said.
"Surprised I know d'em?" Remy asked for clarification.
"No, surprised that so many girls would be crawlin' over an egotistical tease like you," Rogue confessed.
"Oui." Remy leaned back and opened up his chest. "D'ey all want a piece of LeBeau."
"Yeah, an' you're 'bout ta add one more ta the list o' those who want you in pieces." Rogue choked on Remy's ego.
"Well, d'ere are few who can handle the whole me." Remy smiled and leaned over the table toward Rogue, putting his head in his cupped hand.
Rogue scooted her chair back to compensate for the invasion of her enormous personal space bubble. "You're tellin' meh? Ah can hardly stand the 'whole you.'"
"You know you like havin' me around," Remy said confidently.
"Where did ya get that idea?"
"Dis morning, on the phone (3)."
"Shit, that's right. Damn pain killers," Rogue muttered.
The Cajun decided to change the subject. He stood up and offered Rogue his hand. "You wanna dance?"
"No," came the short response.
"Come on." He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up. "It'll be fun."
"No, Remy," Rogue resisted. "Ah'm not totally covered tonight."
"I noticed." He winked at her and received a death glare in return. "We'll stay near de back. Live a little. Open up."
Rogue's ears perked up at the word open. Isn't that what one of the penguins said? Open. Look at meh, since when do ah believe in subconscious messages in my dreams? But it is a little weird. Especially since we'd be dancin' like we were in the dream. What would it hurt?
The boy in the trench coat was surprised when Rogue stopped resisting. "All right, as long as we stay near the back." Then she added, "an' ya stop tryin' ta look down mah shirt."
"You're no fun," Remy pouted as he led her to an open space among the tables, in the opposite direction of the bar. But Mystique could still see them. They were waltzing at first, which was strange to watch because the music was in 4/4 time. Then Rogue let out a laugh, probably to Remy's confession that the waltz was the only dance he knew (4). The two were just swaying to the same tempo for the rest of the set, whispering to each other. Mystique saw Remy's hand slide down from the small of Rogue's back to her buttocks. She almost burst off her stool, morphed into the Hulk and started ripping Remy's limbs off, but Rogue took care of the problem by pushing him away. Mystique was proud for a second, but when Rogue allowed the Cajun to continue dancing with her, Mystique almost pulled her hair out. At last the music ended and Remy and Rogue started to return to their table near the bar.
A low screeching noise met Dante's ears. First he thought it was just feedback from a guitar, but a glance at the stage told him otherwise as it was empty. He turned his head, trying to locate the direction of the source. After his ears found it, his eyes zoned in.
The beautiful woman with the black dreads with her third empty tumbler of Jameson in her right hand was emulating the painful noise.
Dante walked over to her while he was wiping out another tumbler. He leaned his elbow on the bar in front of her but she didn't notice him. She was looking a nearby table. The grinding noise continued. "You know you really shouldn't do that; it's bad for your teeth," the bartender commented.
Mystique stopped grinding her teeth and slowly turned her head to look at the bartender. Dante's eyes met the wild, crazed eyes of the shape shifter. Neither of them moved for about thirty seconds. Then, quicker than lightning, Mystique's hands shot forth and grabbed Dante's shirt and yanked him within centimeters of her snarling fangs. "Are you my dentist or my bartender?" she said in a low, raspy, yet threatening voice.
"Uh…bartender?" Dante squeaked in response.
"Then concern yourself with my empty glass, not my orthodenture," she growled and threw him back into the island of the bar, causing a few bottles to fall over, but luckily no breaks.
Dante hurriedly put some ice in the tumbler he had just wiped out and filled it with more whiskey. He slid it down the bar to Mystique from where she threw him, being a little to frightened to come within arms distance again.
At the end of the last song, Remy and Rogue walked back over to their table near the bar. Remy pulled out a chair for Rogue, who looked at him, then sat in a different chair to spite him.
Remy rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair he pulled out. "It's because of women like you dat chivalry is dead."
"No, it's chivalry comin' from a guys like you that throws suspicion on the whole practice," Rogue retorted.
"Moi?" Remy put on what he thought was his innocent face. Remy was about to send the banter back to Rogue but someone came up behind him and put her hands over his sunglasses.
"Guess who, Remy LeBeau?"
"I don' know." Remy stroked his goatee pretending to think. "Maybe a girl who once paraded around New Orleans in silver glittery jumpsuits an' roller skates an' had to turn sideways to get her afro d'rough da door."
Allison Blaire took her hands off Remy's face and smacked him in the back of the head. "You're still a jerk, Remy."
"But at least I'm a good looking one, eh?"
Ally pulled out the chair on the other side of Remy and sat down. "So, how have ya been?"
Rogue was not especially pleased. Hey, girlie, ah'm sittin' here, too. Just because ya still have a crush on Remy doesn't mean ya get ta ignore meh. Great, now ah get ta sit here an' play third wheel while they "reminisce." Not only that but ah haveta listen to this beautiful rock star sit here an' ramble on, an' watch her be all over Remy. Well, not quite all over, but she is "accidentally" brushing her hand up against him a lot an' makin' up excuses to touch him. Ah should just leave these two alone an' go find Wanda. But then ah'll just be a third wheel ta their party. So ah guess ah'm left with the sit, pout, and be miserable option.
Mid-conversation Ally remembered Rogue was also at the table. "Oh, I'm Allison Blaire, an' ya must be the infamous Rogue." Ally stretched out her hand.
Rogue looked at Ally's hand but did not take it. "Yah, that's meh."
A scowl formed on Ally's face and she sarcastically commented, "I can see why ya like her, Remy. She's very pleasant."
"Only after it takes five minutes for someone ta climb down off their high horse an' mingle with the commoners." Rogue's fake smile sent shivers down Ally's spine.
"Well, if Mr. Manners had introduced ya at the beginnin', I wouldn' have been waitin' fo' him ta do it." Ally turned the blame to Remy.
"Ah don't recall Miss Star Power leavin' a pause in her ramblings big enough for an introduction." Rogue blame shifted. The two started glaring at each other.
Remy was a little confused and frightened being between these two who seemed to be battling in glare wars. I d'ought dey would get along. Dey have some things in common: Music, Anne Rice, de south, dey both pick on me… How could things go so wrong? Women, heh! He then saw John and Wanda approaching the table. "Drink, I need a drink. You want a drink, chere? Petite?" Remy addressed Rogue and Ally respectively as he stood up. They placed orders with Remy, which caused a cease-fire in the glare wars. As Remy walked around the table he grabbed John and Wanda and whispered, "Don' let those two tear each other apart while I'm gone. Don' let them talk to each other if dat's possible."
A bewildered John and Wanda were released from Remy's grasp and allowed to finally reach the table. "You missed out by giving John those backstage passes," Wanda told Rogue as she sat down next to John.
"If ya still want ta get backstage, I can take ya back." Ally offered as some sort of peace offering although she didn't know why Rogue was mad at her to begin with.
"If ah wanted ta go backstage Ah wouldn't have given away mah passes." Rogue stated the obvious.
Ouch, John thought. "I'm John, this is Wanda," John introduced himself to Ally.
"Allison Blaire." This time she was able to shake hands with both of them.
Silent entered the table once more. John coughed. "So, that was a pretty nice light show -" John tried to start up some conversation.
"Thanks," she smiled proudly. Then Ally squinted her eyes and leaned across the table. "Ya guys are, how do I put this? Ya've seen Remy without his sunglasses on, right?" They all nodded. "Great, guess what?" Without waiting for a response Ally continued, "That light show was all me. I can convert sound into light."
Huh, she's a mutant,too, Rogue thought. A mutant with cool powers that she can control. Powers that make her a better rock star. Powers doesn't have worry about killing people with.
"Stop bragging, Ally," chided Danielle Moonstar as she and Trish Tilby approached the table. "Just 'cause you can use your powers during a show and not send everyone screaming from the club, doesn't mean you can be a show off." Trish sat down next to Ally, but Dani stood behind them as the rest of the chairs were occupied.
"Are ya all mutants then?" Rogue asked the implied statement.
"Everyone but me." Trish waved her hand. "But ya never know. They could replace with me with one and then have an all girl mutant rock band."
"Ya are not talking 'bout that Sally 'Skids' chick are ya?" Ally asked her best friend. "That suburban wannabe?"
"She could play, Al, that's all I'm sayin'," Trish told her.
"She was so full of herself," Ally argued.
"She knew she was good," the human defended the musician.
"Yeah, an' she thoroughly pissed me off." Ally ended the argument.
"That's not hard ta do," Rogue said under her breath hoping to stir the ashes of their abhorrence, but Remy had come back with their drinks just then.
"What's dis I hear about an all mutant rock band?" Remy asked the three Dazzlers. "You all coming out of de gene closet, finally?"
"I'm gonna go get some signatures for the mailing list," Dani didn't want to hear this argument again, and she was sucked into the crowd of fans waiting for Kittie.
"No," Ally corrected him. "We're still recovering from Lila and Amelia coming out as a couple. Like ya should talk, Remy." Ally tapped the side of his sunglasses so they would fall down his nose. "Ya still hide."
"Dis is different." Remy put his sunglasses back over his eyes. "Your powers don' have people thrown crosses at you an' callin' you the devil."
"Don't they?" Ally questioned. "Every mutant is considered a demon by some people."
"I'm not," John spoke up. "I'm considered a fire hazard." John struck a match and sent the flame hula dancing across the table.
"Knock it off, John," Wanda told him. "I don't want the Neptune to become number, what? Nine of the businesses in Bayville I'm blacklisted on."
John did as he was told and dissipated the hula girl. "Goodbye, my beauty."
Wanda rolled her eyes at the melodrama. "If you'd rather date the hula girl, that's fine by me."
John contemplated for a second. "No, I think I'd prefer to date you. She wasn't much of a conversationalist."
"You have some strange friends," Ally said then knocked Remy's glasses down his nose again.
Now that was unnecessary. She's just flirting now. *grrr* 'sides she could do so much for the mutant community by goin' public. "Lesbianism isn't a big deal now, especially with the crowd ya play for. Why not come out now an' get one big lump of publicity?" Rogue pushed Ally.
"Did ya know we were banned from playing at five venues 'cause of the little gay issue? Like ya would know anythin' about goin' public," Ally shot at Rogue.
"Actually ah was 'outted' over six months ago on national television after which ah was imprisoned, mah home destroyed, received threatening phone calls, been attacked an' beaten… Would ya like meh to continue?" Rogue asked.
Ally's face grew hot. "And that's exactly why we can't go public. Too much negative publicity equals no fans equals no money equals no band an' that's if we could actually find venues ta book us."
"Wanna take bets on how long it will take for Remy to get so frightened by the girls surrounding him that he'll just jump up and run away?" John whispered to Wanda.
"That's something you would do," Wanda responded. "Remy would more likely order drinks until either he or they are too drunk to care."
"Is it a bet then?" John asked.
"Haven't you learned anything from our boxers or briefs game?" asked Wanda. John responded with a blank look. "Sure, okay."
Trish Tilby leaned over toward the couple. "Can I get in on this action?"
Back to the other conversation at the table:
"Do ya have any idea about how many young mutants ya could help by just goin' public?" Rogue asked. "Ya could inspire them, make them not feel alone anymore." Rogue remembered how frightened and alone she felt when she first developed her powers. Granted she was being chased by Mystique and having exploding things thrown at her, but she still felt alone until she arrived at the Brotherhood house. After that she still felt alone as a person, but not as a mutant, if that makes any sense. "What's more important: Bein' a successful band or working toward equality and acceptance, bein' a role model?"
"Can't really inspire them or be a role model if we can't find a place ta play, if we aren't a band anymore," Ally responded to Rogue's question.
"Sebastian Shaw and Warren Worthington's clubs would let us in," Trish spoke up.
"I'm not sure how much longer our manager can stand Shaw, and I only started datin' Warren, Trish. I wouldn't want to impose somethin' like that on 'em," Ally told her friend.
Okay, perfect looks, perfect powers, perfect job, perfect boyfriend. This girl getting' up there with Jean on my annoyin' list. "Really? You're datin' Warren Worthington the Third?" Rogue questioned skeptically (5).
"Yeah, really. What's it ta you?"
"Nothing, Ah thought he had more class than that," Rogue crossed the line.
Ally bit her lip to keep herself from yelling at the Goth sitting at the table. "You probably have never met Warren."
"Actually, Ah helped save his life last Christmas when someone was tryin' to kidnap him," Rogue boasted.
"Oh, I see. You have some sort of schoolgirl crush on him, don't you?"
"Yah, ya got meh," Rogue said sarcastically. "Ah stole some of his feathers and keep them in a locked box by mah bed."
Dante noticed that the crazy women with dreads had an empty glass again. He grabbed a new bottle of Jameson (she finished off the other one) and cautiously approached her.
"Would you like another?" he asked in what he thought was his most calming voice.
Mystique's head jerked from watching Rogue and Allison argue about Warren Worthington, who she considered much more worthy of Rogue, toward the bartender. My god, can this bartender get anymore whiney and annoying?! "WHAT?!" she barked.
Dante jumped back out of arms length with a terrified look on his face. Mystique couldn't help but smile.
"Uh, more whiskey?" he sputtered out nervously.
Mystique pushed her empty glass toward him and turned her attention back toward the other table.
"I d'ought you kept the chalk I gave you by your bed?" Remy was getting a little jealous that they were now arguing over Big Bird.
Unable to hold her bladder any longer, Wanda stood up and headed toward the restrooms, leaving an open seat between John and Trish. "Tell me how it ends."
"Look at these lovely drinks I bought you." Remy pushed the warming glasses closer to their perspective owners to try and loosen the tension. "Granted you're has no alcohol in it, but, uh, just drink it," Remy told Rogue. The bet is leaning towards Wanda's prediction.
Ally set down her sex on the beach and took a closer look at Rogue. "Remy, how old is Rogue?"
Again, talkin' like ah ain't here, Rogue thought.
"Uh…seventeen," he mumbled under his breath and quickly took another sip.
"Remy!" Ally exclaimed. "You're datin' a child!"
"She is not, Ally. Although you couldn' tell by de way both of you have been actin'. Will you two please stop it with this bickerin'. It's really pissing me off."
"Pay up, fire hazard." A transaction was made at the other end of the table. "Told ya, Remy could only take so much cat fightin' without a mud pit nearby."
"Ah know how ta solve that bickerin' problem." Rogue started to pull off a glove and smiled mischievously. "Truce?" Rogue stuck out her bare hand for Ally to shake.
Before Ally could take ahold, Remy grabbed a napkin and pulled Rogue's bare hand back. "No, Rogue," Remy scolded, "be good." Rogue sighed and pulled her glove back on.
"Hey, Handsome." The green-haired sax player smiled at John. She pulled out Wanda's vacant chair. "Anyone sitting here?"
"No, yes, my date in fact," John stammered as Lorna sat down anyway.
"Too bad, her loss." The band member shrugged.
Remy interrupted, "Hey Lorna, this is John, and this is Rogue, Rogue, John, Lorna." Remy was thankful for the new addition to the table that would hopefully relieve some of the tension between Rogue and Ally. Then he remembered that it was Lorna who sat down. Shit. Remy's head fell into his hand.
With her eyes never leaving the pyromaniac, Lorna asked, "Hey Remy, where did you find your adorable friend here?" Lorna scooted her chair a little closer to John.
"Tryin' to dig his way out of juvie wit' a bottle cap," the Cajun confessed truthfully. Everyone laughed.
"Hey, I went through a lot to get that bottle cap. All I needed was a little time and pressure, and in another ten years or so and I'd be dancing in the rain, smelling like sewage with a bag of nice clothes tied to my foot." John defended himself.
"You were gettin' out in a week." Remy flawed his story.
"It's the principal of the thing." John sat up straighter. "I was convicted of a crime I did not commit and was being forced to do the Warden's taxes!"
"No, that was Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption," Trish pointed out.
"I'd hate to see dat Warden's tax return," Remy said.
"Okay, I was just bored. But I did spook the guards pretty good by hiding behind my Cindy Crawford poster and laughing in ten minute intervals after lights out," John confessed.
"I'm surprised they didn't put ya in the mental ward," Ally commented.
"That's where I got them in a catch-22." John leaned toward the center of the table as if he was divulging a secret. "I told them I was crazy. Get it?"
The blank looks at the rest of the table told him otherwise. So John continued to explain himself, "A crazy person can't tell if he's crazy or not. If someone says he himself is crazy then he must be sane, because only a sane person would know what crazy was. A crazy person thinks he is sane, but he is really crazy. Therefore a crazy person would never claim he was crazy, he would say that he was sane which makes him crazy. So I told them I was crazy." Then John laughed maniacally at himself (6)
The crowd's facial expressions revealed more confused than before, except for Lorna, who only had one thing on her mind.
The green-haired musician put her hand on John's shoulder and smiled. "You are so smart!"
Rogue spit out the coke she was attempting to swallow across the table.
"The soda is supposed ta go in your mouth," Ally smartly remarked.
Remy glared at both of them to knock it off as he grabbed some napkins to help Rogue mop up the pop. Rogue waited until Remy's back was turned then gave Ally the finger.
"You're accent is delicious, where are you from?" Lorna's hand slid from his shoulder to his lower arm, which freaked John-boy out.
"Lorna." Trish tapped her friend on the shoulder. "Ya should probably knock it off. He's girlfriend's going ta be comin' back soon."
"Since when has a girlfriend ever stopped me from getting what I want? Remember Vegas?" Lorna put some loose strands of hair that had fallen out of her cornrows behind her ear.
"Ya should set your sights on someone else tonight, I'm tellin' ya." Trish gave Lorna her final warning before she slid her chair back and stood up. "It's been good seeing ya Remy, find me an' say goodbye before ya leave. I better go mingle and sell some CD's."
"So, John," Lorna turned her attention back to the pyromaniac and leaned in closer. "Where are you from?"
John gulped at her closeness. "A.. A.. Australia." Just a couple days ago wasn't I wondering why women don't find me attractive? Now this green hair Sheila is all over me and all I want is the girl in the bathroom. Don't get me wrong, if I could have both, that would be a dream but I have a feeling Wanda will pop my head off like a daisy when she gets back here. John scooted his chair away from the sax player and closer to Rogue.
Lorna liked to see guys squirm and give into her so she followed suit, making small talk and sliding her chair closer to John. This went on until John was practically sitting on top of Rogue. John attempted to scoot once more only to accidentally elbow Rogue in the chest. John without thinking looked at her. Her glare made him shiver and he moved out of Rogue's personal space bubble. But his sudden movement to Lorna's direction caught her off guard and the top of her head met John's cheekbone. They both groaned.
Lorna laughed a little. "Are you okay?" she asked John who was rubbing his face.
"Yeah." John moved his jaw around, making sure it was still in place.
"Here, let me kiss it and make it better." Lorna moved in.
"Nope, all better." John pushed her away. "In perfect health, can't have you kissing it and making it even better in health. What would I do with an exceptionally healthy cheekbone? Its ego would just explode from all the praise and there would be no living with it."
"You're just being silly." Lorna, quick like a viper, kissed him on the cheek anyway. Exactly like in a soap opera, at that easily misinterpreted moment, Wanda returned from the bathroom.
"Women are way too high maintenance," she complained about the long line for the bathroom before she saw some green-haired bimbo kiss her date. Wanda's demeanor changed from irritation at the world to war. Lorna was still leaning over John when Wanda tapped her on the shoulder.
Annoyed Lorna turned her head toward the witch. "Yes?"
"You are in my seat," she replied through clenched teeth.
"That's nice, doll." Lorna continued flirting with John.
"I would like you to get out of my seat," Wanda said again again through clenched teeth.
"And if I don't?" The green-haired mutant figured she could easily put the girl out after she sized her up.
"Why don't you sit here, luv?" John interrupted and patted his lap. Wanda glared at him, still mad for the kiss earlier. Then she read his eyes: Please sit here and protect me from this slut. Well, she added the slut part on. Wanda smiled victoriously at the fierce Lorna as she sat on John lap.
"So how long have you two been going out?" Lorna asked sat back in her seat.
"About a week," Wanda told her.
Lorna was surprised, they acted like they had been together a lot longer, but still being in ruthless mode said, "Your awfully possessive for only going out for a week. 'fraid someone's gonna steal him?"
"Lorna, shut up." Ally was getting sick of Lorna's "God's gift to men" attitude too.
"You should listen to Ally, Lorna." Remy nervously twitched from the bombardment of memories as a chimney sweep. "You don' want to be on Wanda's bad side."
"Oh please, my nickname's not Polaris for nothing," Lorna said confidently.
"What do you do?" Wanda asked. "Turn into a snowmobile so everyone can have a ride?"
Lorna's face first turned a complementary color to her hair, then she paled and smiled devilishly. "No, but I can certainly flatten you like road kill."
"I am shivering in my boots," said Wanda unemotionally.
Rogue this time tried to break it up. "Knock it off. Ah don't wanna get kicked outta here 'cause your insecure an' she's a slut."
Lorna sneered. "Little self-esteem problems, Red?" The sax player leaned back in her chair confidently.
Wanda was running out of insults, she had known this girl all of five minutes. So in desperation an icy blue glow formed around her right hand and traveled to the back two legs of Lorna's chair. The legs snapped and Polaris fell to the floor, right on her buttocks. "Little weight problem, Mossy?" the witch eluded to her green hair that was frizzing in the hot, humid club.
Lorna again became Christmas colors as she jumped up. "You'll regret that!" Wanda stood up from John's lap with two hands glowing.
Lorna's hands developed a green glow, matching her hair. Her left hand shot out behind her and the metal chair that Trish pushed away from the table started glowing green also and flew to the girl's open hand.
Meanwhile: "Fire in the hole!" Remy yelled and grabbed the arms of the two girls next to him and pulled them to the apparent safety underneath the table.
"Fire? Where?!" John excitedly yelled and looked around from his cowering location behind the chair he was previously sitting in.
Ally laughed. "Ya know Remy, I'm always up for new things, but a threesome underneath a club table with her is not one o' them." Ally pointed to Rogue. At the word threesome Rogue's eyes widened. She tried to stand up abruptly but ended up hitting her head on the underside of the table.
Ally backed out and started to stand only to have the first thing she saw being her drink and the others on the table starting to elevate and spin. She quickly ducked back underneath the table and yelled, "What the hell can she do?!"
The lack of the sound of breaking chairs and glasses brought Ally, Remy, and Rogue up from the table. Last time they looked, Lorna she was about to break a chair across Wanda's back. Now the green glow of Polaris had dissipated and a soft pink light emanated from her eyes. Wanda was ready to show her stuff and was caught off guard when Lorna put the chair down next to the table and sat in it. Wanda had already settled back onto John's lap despite the empty chairs nearby that she could have pulled near the table.
The immediate dangers having dispersed, Remy took to examining the spot on Rogue's head where she bumped it. Rogue would have none of it. She blocked his hands that were going to part her hair.
"Let me see it," Remy told her. "What is with you tonight? Let me see."
"Stop fussin' over meh," was her retort.
"Let me see if it's bleedin', okay?"
Rogue relented and her arms fell limply to her sides. "Fine."
Remy carefully parted her hair. "You're going to have one hell of a bump. You goinna let me put something on it?"
"Whatever, Dr. Lebeau." Rogue crossed her arms and sat down stubbornly. Remy pull his chair closer to hers and put his cold drink to the back of her head. He whispered something to hear that the author couldn't even hear, but it was enough to change her sour expression to a more lighthearted one as she playfully punched Remy in the stomach and laughed. The smile remained on her face for quite some time afterwards as they continued to tease each other.
*CRASH* A shattering of glass was heard throughout the bar. Dante looked at the bartenders and waitresses. They didn't appear to know where the sound came from either. On a hunch, the whiney bartender looked at the crazy woman in the dreads. Her hand had grasped her tumbler so tightly that she had broken the glass and whiskey was spilt all over the countertop.
Dante picked up a towel and headed over to her. "Maybe you should stick to teeth grinding," he commented.
Mystique lurched over the bar and attempted to expel her aggravations upon seeing Rogue flirt with the slimy Cajun by strangling that irritating bartender and doing everyone a favor. Unfortunately for her, the security didn't like that. It took four security guards and two bouncers to pry Mystique's fingers from around Dante's neck and haul her out to the alley.
A woman in a deep violet cloak and a man in his thirties dressed like he stepped out from a renaissance fair now approached the table. The man had dark hair drawn back into a pony tail and a well groomed beard. The face of the woman was hidden in the shadows of the hood of the cloak but a faint pink glow in the shape of a butterfly could be seen.
The woman turned to the man on her left. "Sebastian, could you please us some drinks at the bar?" Her thick English accent seemed to mesmerize him, or it could have just been that he knew what kind of body she was hiding underneath her cloak. The man did as she was told and the woman came to the table and stood behind Lorna who seemed catatonic in the chair.
"Bitch," Lorna said as she stared straight ahead.
The mystery woman pulled back the hood of her cloak to reveal a head of thick, wavy lavender hair which, for the most part, was tied up in a bun with chopsticks. "I cannot have you using mutant powers to wreak a gig. It's hard enough to pack a place since Lily and Amelia came out as lovers, this gig will go right down the shitter if they knew we were all mutants as well."
"I hate hiding who I am," Lorna said, her eyes still glowing pink and her body not under her control.
"You're not hiding yourself if you don't use your powers to start a fight. I suggest you control yourself. If you don't you'll have the pain of a hangover without the pleasure of being drunk." From the English manager's right hand a long pink dagger of energy appeared that matched the pink of her corset and long skirt then swelled threateningly and disappeared.
"Fine," Lorna grumbled. The cloaked woman released her telepathic grip and Lorna slumped in the chair, crossed her arms and pouted.
The telepath rolled her eyes. "Grow out of your diapers and go get some email addresses or sell some CD's. You can't let the others do all the work."
"What about Ally?" Lorna childishly.
"She'll be joining you in five minutes, baby Green," the psychic said. "Now go find some horny guys to buy you a drink. You'll feel better in no time."
Lorna got up from the table and walked out toward the crowd, making sure to bump the lavender and purple Englishwoman on her way out. The woman just sighed and shook her head as she sat down in Lorna's still warm seat.
"I think I'm more of a nanny than a manager sometimes," she stated. Shaw came back and set her drink down in front of her before pulling up another seat. "Thank god." The woman downed the mixed drink like a shot.
"Guys, this is our manager Elizabeth or Betsy Braddock and this is the owner of the club, Sebastian Shaw." Ally introduced each of the four to her manager and Shaw.
Surprisingly, Ally and Rogue were civil in the small talk conversation that followed. Then all of a sudden Betsy's face grew bitter as Shaw's hand had found it's way to her upper thigh. "Would you please get me another drink, luv?" Betsy interrupted the American Idol bashing conversation and smiled sweetly at Sebastian. Like a good little dog, he took her empty glass to the bar. Betsy shuddered as soon as his back was turned. "Bloody asshole. If he didn't own half the clubs on the New England coast he'd be unconscious, tied up, and shoved in a trunk somewhere. Of course, he'd probably think it was foreplay."
"That an' we have ta stay on his good side if our secret ever comes out," Ally added and took a drink.
"He doesn't seem like a mutant sympathizer to me," Wanda commented.
"That's because he's not a sympathizer," Betsy revealed. "He is a mutant. He's apart of this aristocratic mutant club too. Tried to get me to join. But 'unfortunately' with my busy schedule and traveling I could not commit." Betsy sat in thought for a minute. The Brit leaned across the table and said in a hushed tone, "Would you tattle if, after he comes back with my drink, I knock him out and tell him that he just passed out?" Everyone laughed and shock their heads.
"That would be great, Bets," Ally said between giggles. "But I have a feeling he might be suspicious since he's only had a couple of drinks."
"Bugger," Betsy muttered just before Shaw came back.
The small talk from before continued. The glasses were emptied, and Shaw rose from the table. "Elizabeth, my dear, we must set up some more dates for the Dazzlers New England tour. I also have a friend of mine on the West Coast I might be able to convince to host your band, and he should be in his office now."
Betsy, after sending a pleading look at the others at the table for a quick and sweet death, stood up from the table as well. "Ally, it's about time you got to work too. Pleasure meeting everyone." The manager smiled pleasantly and jokingly asked everyone telepathically at the table for a razor blade.
Ally continued to sit at the table for a few minutes, until she received a startling image of herself being abandoned in the Appalachian Mountains with a bunch of unwashed people claiming her as their slave and a radio which played only one song: the "" song by Alan Jackson. Ally stumbled out of her seat as she hastily stood up.
"Walk much?" Rogue asked.
"You'd be frightened too if ya just got the image o' yourself stuck out in the middle o' nowhere with only the "" song by Alan Jackson ta listen ta," Ally explained.
Rogue agreed with Ally. "Ah think ah'd cut off mah ears."
"It was great ta see ya Remy." Ally bent down to hug him while Rogue scowled. "It was a pleasure meetin' you two." Ally nodded to Wanda and John, who now sat in separate seats since John lost feeling in his left leg. "An' you I'm still not sure of." Ally gave Rogue a funny look. Since Betsy had sat down, they had been civil to each other and actually supported each other's arguments, but Ally wasn't sure if it was all natural or if Betsy had something to do with it. Betsy had never done anything like that before so, in conclusion, there was a big gray cloud over the whole thing.
"No one ever is," Rogue responded. "That's why they call meh The Rogue."
"I d'ought dat was 'cause you beat everyone up who called you by your real name," Remy provoked.
"No, Ah beat everyone up 'cause ah enjoy it." She smiled deviously.
Wanda broke in on their conversation. "Did she really tell you her name?"
"Sure," Remy stalled. "It's Gertrude."
"Of course it is Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau," Rogue rolled her eyes at Remy.
"Ooo, full-name action going on. Ya better behave Remy. Well, I better try an' get some gas money, bye everyone." Ally exited the scene.
After Ally left Remy set down his drink and turned to Rogue seriously. "What's your problem tonight?"
"Mah problem? It was her problem." Rogue blame shifted. "Ah don't like bein' ignored while she flirts with mah …" Rogue trailed off as she was about to make a declaration she was not comfortable making publicly or to herself even. To attempt to cover she started up again. "She's all high and mighty with her band and her perfect boyfriend, her perfect powers, her perfect life."
But it was too late, Remy had pretty much stopped listening after the 'mah.' "Your what, chere? I didn' catch dat."
Rogue growled slightly and looked around trying to come up with some noun. Then the lights went out and a guitar riff eliminated any other sound in the house as Kittie took the stage.
"Wow, that was amazin'." Rogue ran her hand through her hair as Remy, Wanda, John and herself exited the Neptune. All four walked toward the Acolyte vehicle with their ears ringing.
"I've seen better," Remy commented. "Sometime I'll have to take you to Ragtime, den you'll hear good music."
The four continued to talk about bands and music until they reached the vehicle. John, Wanda, and Rogue climbed in but Remy remained outside.
"Aren't ya comin', swamp rat?" Rogue shouted out the still open door.
"Non, de Wolvie's probably waitin' up for you and I don' want ta repeat our last encounter," Remy reasoned as he stepped up to the door but didn't get in. "I'll just stick around here wit the Dazzlers 'til John and Wanda come back. So -" he started and smiled. "You were jealous."
"Ah was not." Rogue crossed her arms and refused to look at the Cajun.
"You were so." Remy couldn't stop beaming. He was finally making an impact on The Rogue. Rogue remained stubborn and he decided not to push his luck. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Grounded," was the stubborn girl's answer.
"So I'll come see you," Remy answered for her.
"Yah, so ah can get another lecture from the Professor an' Jean an' Scott -"
"Oh, I get it. We have to keep 'Us' on the hush, hush. You're lucky I'm a t'ief," Remy said. "So when can I see you again? I got it I'll write a location and time on a card and put it under the bus seat 36 of the Route 4 bus, and we'll meet den. But if dat time doesn' work for you, you need to hang a gold flag in your window, and then -"
"Friday at work," Rogue said to shut him up. The fool was letting too much cold air in. "And there is no 'Us,'" she quickly added, pushed Remy out of the way of the door and slammed it.
Remy started to walk back toward the club. As he passed a dark ally, a voice called out, "Stay away from Rogue."
The Cajun in the trench coat looked up and down the ally, but all he could see was two yellow eyes. "Who's d'ere? Nevermind, I don' care. I do what I want, wit who I want. Never good at taken orders." Remy took a couple of steps down the ally.
"You will do as I say." Mystique came into view sitting elegantly on some crates.
"Let me d'ink about it." Remy stroked his goatee. "How about no. Mystique, non? I see you're not a lab rat anymore. Someone left the cage unlocked or did dey just get sick of you trying to order dem around?"
"I wouldn't take my threats lightly, boy." She jumped down and came toward him until she was a few inches from his face. "I know secrets; I have connections. I can make your worst nightmare come true."
"You're going to blind me and leave me in the desert surrounded by naked playboy models?"
"No," but that's a good idea. Blind in a desert, perfect. "But I do know your work history." Mystique turned and started to walk further into the darkness of the ally. Over her shoulder she called, "I might make a few calls to your previous employers."
Remy ground his teeth. She wouldn't. No one deals with Essex unless dey have no other option. 'sides, what can Essex do to me as long as I'm on Magneto's good side. I don' know how Mags struck a deal wit' him, but I haven' heard anything from any of Essex's crew for over a year, I doubt that Mystique could convince him to go against Mags. Mags must have something real big to scare Essex.
Why does Mystique care about Rogue and me anyway? Remy pondered this thought for the rest of the night, but never came up with an answer.
(1) Based after character of the same name from "Clerks."
(2) "Clerks" reference.
(3) See Chapter 15 – End of the Longest Day
(4) Actually from the comics, one in the X-Men Executioner series. Gambit is dancing with Storm at Lila Chaney's concert.
(5) Allison and Warren were a couple in the comics for a while. Around the time Rogue, Destiny, and Mystique tried to kidnap Warren to find out more about the X-Men. Rogue had liked Allison's music and when she found out she was a mutant with control and a handsome millionaire boyfriend, she became extremely jealous and tried to kill her. After Rogue joined the X-Men, there was always a great conflict between the two for that attempted murder thing and them both having a thing for Longshot didn't help the situation.
(6) Argument from the book entitled, surprise, Catch-22 by Joesph Heller. Very confusing book. Not written in chronological order and there are naked WW pilots guys hiding out in trees and guys named Major M. Major (the M. stands for Major) and guess what his rank is.