A/N: Sorry for the extra week between updates. I started school again so it was a bit of a whirlwind last week.
Chapter 6: December 16
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
Kitty believes in letting people live their own lives, especially their love lives. She doesn't meddle.
Well, okay, she does, but you can't just let people deal with their own love lives! Rogue won't even have a love life if Kitty leaves it up to her.
Remy certainly isn't doing much to help it along.
Kitty tries out a growl. Her ceiling doesn't look particularly intimidated.
She's not offended, exactly, that Remy seems determined to exclude her from his secrets. To be honest, though, she is a little hurt.
She and Remy are close now, she thinks. They're teammates. They're friends. They've seen some things, been through some things together. The Evil Car Salesman was a horror they'll share forever. And Kitty will never tell anyone about how Remy had screamed when the tiny snake-oil-slicked man had popped up behind Kitty unexpectedly.
She's great at secrets, okay?
Anyway, Remy is being stupid and not fun at all. She does make a mental note about the books for Piotr though. No reason to waste good advice because it comes from a source that is acting dumb.
Kitty scowls. She really wants to know what Remy is up to. And Bobby and Kurt and Piotr. Whatever they're doing in their stupid boys' club.
Kitty jumps out of bed and immediately trips over three different boxes on the floor.
"Ow, ow, ow!"
000
Remy, intent on figuring out the perfect present for Rogue, forgets about the number one rule of Thieving.
No, not "Wear Gloves."
Not "Double-Check For Alarms," either.
Alright, so it's not really the number one rule of Thieving. More like the number sixteenth rule.
Keep an eye on the babysitter.
Many a well-rounded thief has found himself in trouble because he forgot to account for the babysitter making the rounds of the house. Of course, proper thieves just don't try to steal things while there are still people in the house, but allowances have to be made for amateurs.
Jean and Scott aren't babysitters, exactly, but they have the same tendency to wander around the house to "check on things."
And this time, what they're checking on is Remy.
"Remy!" Jean chirrups. It's an interesting sound. Remy wonders how she makes her mouth shape the bird noises.
"Hi," Remy says cautiously.
Jean pats him on the arm. "How are you, Remy?" she asks. Remy's eyebrows climb up his forehead.
"Uh, fine?" he says.
Scott claps him on the shoulder and now they're both touching him in friendly camaraderie. Remy tries not to stiffen and shake himself like a dog.
"We just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay," Scott says.
Remy sighs. "Remy ain't gonna ruin y'all's holiday," he says sulkily. "Okay? Would you just leave Remy alone, now?"
He shrugs them off and slinks away, hunching his shoulders into his trench coat and burying his hands in the pockets.
This whole "being a good person" thing is more trouble than it's worth sometimes, Remy thinks.
He meets the Brotherhood at the front door when they all pile into the foyer and almost cause the breakdown of peaceful mutant relations in Bayville.
Goodwill towards men, blah, blah, blah. Goodwill is a pretty unstable concept to withstand Lance Alvers.
Pun intended.
"Hey!" Remy shouts into the chaos that is the young mutants trying to assemble into battle positions. The Brotherhood (minus one St. John Allerdyce) pauses just inside the door, looking both bemused and alarmed. Wanda leads the pack, arms crossed under her breasts in a way that looks deliberate. Remy rolls his eyes and reminds himself that she's only seventeen. Seventeen year olds do weird crap all the time.
Possibly, she just wants an excuse to punch someone. Getting them to stare at her boobs is probably a surefire way to accomplish that.
"X-Men!" Remy says. "What's going on?"
"The Brotherhood is invading!" Ray says, gesturing with one electric-crackling hand. He looks like he wants to comment on Remy's relative intelligence for questioning the obvious, but fortunately restrains himself. Remy would hate to have to beat him up and drop him in a swamp somewhere.
"Non," he says. "They're guests."
They're all quiet for a moment and then they explode.
"WHAT?"
"Who invited them?"
"You can't just–"
"Remy!"
"Hey!" he yells again, glaring at the little group. Rahne and Jamie quiet down immediately. Sam, Ray, and Roberto grumble a little more, but Remy glares harder and they shut up.
"First," he says, "nobody invited them. They invited themselves, but that's okay, 'cause they aren't gonna be any trouble. Right?" He directs this, pointedly, to Wanda.
Wanda nods. "No trouble," she agrees, pleasantly, for Wanda. That's terrifying, but Remy doesn't have time to deal with Wanda's issues right now, so he'll have to put a pin in it for later.
Or better yet, warn Rogue and make it her problem.
"See?" he says to the kids.
"But why are they here?" Sam asks.
Remy throws his hands into the air. "Because it's Christmas, Sam! Try and find a little goodwill, would you? Actually," he gives Sam a puzzled look. "Aren't you supposed to be going home?"
"Mom's picking me up in an hour," Sam admits.
Remy hollers, "Then why do you even care?" and stomps away. The young X-Men glance at each other and then shrug, stepping out of the way. The Brotherhood walks through the foyer.
Well, they stomp through the foyer. Their boots aren't made for walking.
Remy leads them to the kitchen.
"Where's John?" he asks.
"Canada," Wanda answers, which doesn't explain what Remy really wants to know: namely, why isn't John here, but also does explain a lot.
John is John. He makes no sense, and it's easier not to try sometimes.
"Okay," Remy says. "Well, try and stay out of trouble, okay? Remy don't have time for any," he waves his hand, "shenanigans."
"Hey," Pietro says, somehow managing to look offended at the suggestion, even though shenanigans are basically the bread and butter of the Brotherhood.
Remy points a finger at him. "Remy means it," he says sternly. "Behave."
"They will," Freddy says, which is honestly more promising than if any of the others had made a similar promise. Remy trusts Freddy, at least to try and behave, and that's all Remy is asking for here.
"Great," he says. "Now go find some empty rooms or something. Kitty's," he waves his hand again, "around. She'll sort y'all out."
"What are you doing?" Wanda calls after him as he wanders away.
"Stuff," he answers, and leaves them in the kitchen. They should be fine for an hour or two, giving Remy time to sort out at least one of his Rogue-related issues.
Remy is tired of feeling sorry for himself, so the only thing to do is take a chance. Tell Rogue exactly how he feels, and hope for a miracle.
Ha. Yeah, right. Like honestly telling someone how you feel about them has ever worked for anyone.
No, Remy will stick with tried and true methods.
Flowers. Chocolate. Love notes written in his own blood.
Remy pauses and reconsiders that last one. Probably it's best not to use ideas that worked on Belladonna Bordeaux. She found blood notes romantic, but she is an assassin, so who knows what's going on in her head. Rogue probably prefers love notes written in pen.
Or, Remy grins. Maybe no note is necessary. Remy will just leave a card. The right card can say everything for him.
Now what kind of chocolate does Roguey like?
That's a rhetorical question. Remy knows what kind of chocolate Rogue likes. Remy is a professional, okay, and he stalked these people for like a year. Part of stalking someone is knowing their favorite chocolate. Rogue likes those chocolate truffles, the ones that are all dark and bitter on the outside and cool creamy sweet mush on the inside.
So far, Remy has refrained from pointing out the parallels to Rogue. Maybe this could be the time to do so. Let Rogue know that he sees past all the hard anger she wears as a shield to the sweet heart and beautiful girl she really is.
Remy muses on packaging on his way to the garage. Should there be a ribbon? Maybe a pre-tied bow? Remy knows his strengths, and ribbon tying isn't one of them.
He walks into the middle of trouble before he knows that he should be trying to escape.
That seems to be the current theme of his life lately. Magneto, meeting Rogue, Apocalypse, falling for Rogue, the X-Men, the Grinch, and Rogue's Christmas present. Remy is not doing too well with surprises this past couple of years.
Not that this is particularly surprising. It was apparently too much to expect that The Brotherhood stay out of trouble for an hour.
Jean is nose to nose with Wanda, which is only possible due to Wanda's five-inch platform boots, and Scott's eyes are glowing. The professor watches from his wheelchair with an impassive look on his face. Storm is nowhere in sight, Kitty is standing in between Lance and Scott with a panicked expression, and the rest of the Brotherhood look like they're trying to avoid causing what Magneto had always called "a regrettable incident." Not trying very hard though. Toad in particular looks ready to slime someone.
"What," says Remy.
"What are they doing here, Remy?" Jean shrieks. Remy sighs. He already had this conversation today.
"They're guests," he says.
"Professor–" Jean starts.
"Ah, yes," Xavier says, like he hasn't been sitting there watching this train wreck the whole time. "Welcome, all of you. I trust you found your rooms satisfactory? I hope you don't mind sharing, most of the children here do."
"It's great, Professor," Lance says. He actually sounds grateful. Remy just hopes he keeps his hands away from Kitty. It would be a shame to have to put an end to all this goodwill they've got going on.
"But–" Jean says. Scott leans over and whispers something in her ear. Warren appears on the upper landing and rests his elbows on the railing. Rogue comes and stands next to him. She does not look extremely surprised to see the Brotherhood. Remy tries not to spontaneously combust from jealousy at the way she and Warren are standing so close.
Stick with the plan, Remy. "Anyway," he announces, changing the plan on the fly, "the boys were all coming with Remy anyway."
Lance looks confused. "We… were?" he says. Remy nods.
"Oui. Remy's got an errand to run, and the motorcycle ain't gonna work today. Too cold."
Rogue opens her mouth, possibly to comment that Remy had insisted on driving himself back from the mall on his motorcycle just yesterday, despite the similarly freezing temperatures, but then closes it slowly. Remy's chere is so smart, he notes with pride. She'd caught on to his plan immediately.
"Okay," says Lance, "but why do we all have to go?"
Remy gives him a Look. Remy's glares might not be on Rogue's level, but in addition to his charming smile, Remy's general Looks have a pretty potent power of their own. He learned how to stare at people from Tante Mattie, so Lance Alvers doesn't stand a chance here.
"Because," Remy says, "Remy says so. Go get in the car."
"Jeep," Lance mutters, but he goes, and drags Toad after him. Freddy and Pietro come along on their own, leaving Wanda facing down Jean on her own.
Remy isn't worried about her. Wanda can handle Jeanie. And if she can't, Rogue can. He catches Rogue's eye and gives a little nod in the direction of the two combatants. Rogue nods back and gives him a little grin.
Remy hurriedly scoops his melted heart back into his chest and hurries out the door after the Brotherhood.
000
First, they have to put the top up on Lance's jeep, because for some reason no one in this idiot crew had thought to do so. After that, they all pile in and Lance drives them off toward town.
"I know why you did that," Lance says to Remy, in the passenger seat. "Thanks," he adds, grudgingly.
"Don't strain yourself," Remy replies, stretching his arms above his head. He's still enjoying the warmth that came from sharing a thought and a smile with Rogue.
"Where are we going, even?" Toad complains from the backseat. He has a pretty good reason to whine, Remy allows. Stuck in the middle between Pietro and Fred isn't exactly the most pleasant place to be sitting. Especially when Pietro is in a Mood.
So, always.
"We're going shopping," Remy replies.
Toad –no matter how far they get from being actual enemies, Remy can't bring himself to call the kid Todd –rolls his eyes and says, "Yeah, man, I guessed that. But why?"
"Because," says Remy, feeling like this is becoming his default response to a lot of different questions, "it's Christmas.
Toad makes a rude noise. Pietro smacks the back of his head. "Ow!" Toad yelps.
"Listen you cretin," Pietro says kindly, "we're going shopping so that LeBeau here can get Rogue some kind of sappy romantic thing. Actually," he says thoughtfully, "that's why he's going shopping. We're going so that Freddy's girlfriend back there doesn't murder us." Fred rumbles in protest, which Pietro ignores.
Remy turns around in his seat to level a long, suspicious look at Pietro. Is it possible that the little creep has developed a secondary telepathic mutation? Remy doesn't think so, but Pietro has spent a great deal of time around some very sketchy materials lately. Just because Magneto's domes kept out most radiation doesn't mean that other weird stuff wasn't lying around. And Pietro is kind of like an infant.
In a lot of ways, Remy acknowledges, but particularly in the one where if he doesn't recognize something, he'll put it in his mouth. If not for his extraordinarily high-speed metabolism, he would have died from poisoning at least four times by now. Since Apocalypse.
Sometimes, Remy worries that the entire Brotherhood is going to die from a lack of adult supervision.
"Hey guys, come on," Lance says. "We can do our own last minute Christmas shopping."
"Uh, what last minute Christmas shopping?" Toad says. "We all bought everything months ago, because Pietro made us get it out of the way before Thanksgiving."
"Also," says Pietro, "you all celebrated Hanukkah with me and Wanda last week. You said you didn't mind doing presents and all that early."
"Kitty, man," Lance says. "I need a present for Kitty."
"You do know," Remy says, "that Kitty is also Jewish, right?"
Lance makes an impatient noise through his nose. "Yes," he stresses, "I know that. But she said that she was having Hanukkah at Christmas time this year, since she didn't go home for the holidays because her parents were visiting Australia or something."
"New Zealand," Remy snaps. He's irrationally upset that Lance and Kitty apparently talk to each other about holiday plans.
"What?" Lance looks away from the road to blink in bewilderment at Remy.
"Her parents are in New Zealand, not Australia."
Lance rolls his eyes. "Okay, Mr. Specific," he says. "Anyway, I need to get her a present."
Scathingly, Remy says, "Maybe you can start following the terms of the restraining order." Remy knows that telling someone else to stop stalking people is a bit rich coming from him, but Lance is honestly pushing it, here.
Lance glares at him. "That was lifted," he says. "And anyway, Kitty and I are good now."
Pietro snickers. "Oh yeah, if 'good' means broken up and having a screaming fight about it only once a week, then sure, you two are great."
Remy doesn't usually like Pietro, which is why this moment has suddenly turned in a strange direction for him.
"Whatever, man," Lance says to Pietro. "You're just jealous that I've had a girlfriend at all."
"I've had one!" Toad pipes in.
"My sister does not count!" Pietro shrieks.
"No you haven't, Todd," Fred says, frowning.
"Man, when are you gonna leave Wanda alone?" Lance complains. Remy hides a grin. Apparently Toad's incessant crush on Wanda has lost even the novelty factor as a benefit. Nothing brings the Brotherhood together like ganging up on one of their own for their romantic attempts.
Toad folds his arms and pouts. "Y'all hate me," he says.
"No," says Fred, "you just don't know when to quit, and it's annoying."
They're all quiet for a moment and then Pietro shakes his head. "Freddy, dude, the sheer irony of you saying that is physically making me itch."
"Oh," says Toad, sheepishly pulling a slimy, mud-covered piece of grass away from Pietro's neck. "Sorry, that was me."
Pietro is about to explode when the road in front of them does it instead.
Lance slams on the breaks and throws the jeep into park. "What the–" he starts, and then gunfire erupts from behind the smoke.
"DOWN!" Fred yells, and then he's throwing all of them out of the car and covering them with his huge, indestructible body. Remy charges a card and yells, "Can anybody see?"
Nobody can see. Remy swears creatively in French and throws his card in the general direction of the smoke. It explodes with a satisfying bang, but from the lack of shouting, Remy guesses that he didn't hit anyone.
Blob rolls off of them and Quicksilver darts away and back faster than blinking. "What the heck!" he yells at Remy as they all continue to dodge gunfire. "There's an army unit or something back there!"
Remy's blood runs cold.
That is a stupid phrase, and Remy doesn't actually know what it means. It's like the melting butter all over again. His blood actually does not change temperature at all, and in fact, he's incredibly freaking furious, so if anything, his blood should be hotter, right? But no, instead it's as if ice shot through Remy's veins.
It's fear.
It sucks.
"We're getting out of here, now," he tells the boys. They look mutinous. Unsurprising, since none of them are the retreating type. Remy himself has been known to charge headfirst into worse odds just for the fun of it, but those odds usually are against his current companions or the Hellfire Club or one time a crack team of extremely dedicated hairstylists.
This? This is a government team of specialists who probably don't care if they actually kill anyone, whereas Remy and his boys are at least supposed to try not to permanently damage people. These guys work for a Snake Man, and that can't be good.
"Let's go. Now!" he snaps at the boys. They finally start to obey, and then Toad jumps like he's been electrocuted.
Which he has. Remy watches the cord of the taser retreat into the smoke. Retractable, nice. The next one flies out of the haze and misses Pietro because Pietro is never really standing still, even when it looks like he is. Joke's on you, commandos.
The taser does hit Fred, though, but he just shrugs it off. Actually, he absorbs it, and becomes even more powerful, because the Blob, now that Remy thinks of it, is kind of like Obi-Wan Kenobi that way.
What is in this smoke?
Remy's mind feels hazy and his stomach is starting to churn. His metabolism and mutation are working together to keep him upright, but Remy knows that it's only a matter of minutes, maybe seconds, before he drops. Avalanche staggers beside him. Toad is down for the count. Fred is fine, of course, and Pietro too, but as good as they are, Remy doesn't like their chances if the commandos decide to move in while three of the five are down. Staying awake seems to be the key thing here. Too bad it's becoming increasingly difficult.
Possibly, he thinks crazily, he has been drugged.
To his left, he sees people in TAC vests moving in, guns out and ready to fire. Electricity, he thinks, because they don't want to kill us. They need us alive for experiments, so it's energy, not bullets.
Well. Energy, Remy can work with. Now that he can see.
A card in each hand. Four of diamonds and ten of clubs. Not his lucky cards by any stretch, but after today, Remy might just make up a deck entirely made of each.
He charges his cards and lets them go. They flip through the air and explode in one of the squad member's face. He staggers back, blinded and cursing.
"Gambit!" Blob roars. "Let's go!" Remy swivels his head and looks. Impossibly, Fred has gathered Lance and Toad under one arm and held off approximately all of the commandos with the other. Pietro buzzes around them like a hyperactive wasp.
"Come on, come on!" he shouts. "Get a move on!"
Remy gets a move on. Six more cards go flying, one after another, directly at the tasers. Six explosions and the squad is lying on the ground in various stages of aches and pains.
"Jeep!" he yells, and they all pile in. Remy's behind the wheel, and despite the fact that he's never driven Lance's stupid rust bucket before and has no idea how hard to pump the clutch, they hit asphalt at eighty miles an hour and Lance never even stirs.
Pietro does scream at a pitch that would deafen a bat, but that's fairly normal, so Remy mostly ignores it.
Lance comes to about an hour outside Bayville. "What was that?" he shrieks. "Also, why is Remy driving my car?" he adds.
Remy rubs his forehead with one hand and sighs. "Welcome to the Super-Secret Brotherhood of Sub-Level Ninjas," he tells them.
000
Kitty goes looking for Piotr. She finds him in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something that smells delicious but looks kind of like dog barf.
"Katya," he beams at her. "I am making stroganoff."
Of course he is. What a sweetheart. Kitty almost wants to pinch his cheeks, except that she can't reach them. And he's a grown man, so that's probably demeaning.
"Piotr," she says, pouting a little, "what is going on with you and Remy and Bobby and Kurt?" She opens her eyes as wide as she can because she read somewhere that boys think it's cute and it makes them respond automatically to what you ask.
Piotr just gives her a concerned look. "Are your eyes alright, Katya?" he asks, leaning down to peer into her face. "You're twitching."
Well, so much for that. "Piotr, tell me!" she whines.
He gives her a gentle smile. Everything about Piotr is gentle, she thinks. Especially with her. It gives her a warm feeling that seems to rush to her face. Suddenly she's blushing.
"I cannot betray the secret," Piotr says solemnly, though his eyes twinkle. Kitty sticks out her lip and he laughs out loud, using a spoon to scoop some of his stroganoff out of the pan.
"Try," he says, holding it out to her. Kitty forgets to pout and opens her mouth. Savory and warm, the stroganoff tastes as good as it smells.
"Good," she says, nodding. Piotr nods back, satisfied.
"Good," he echoes. He turns off the stove and Kitty automatically moves to find plates and silverware. Piotr grins his thanks and plates their food.
They eat together at the kitchen counter, joking and talking about how the Brotherhood is staying for Christmas. Neither of them mention Lance.
It isn't until they've finished and cleared away their dishes and Piotr has gone off to "finish some things" that Kitty realizes he had distracted her magnificently.
"Well played, Piotr," she mutters, walking into her bedroom. "Well played."
"Are you talking to yourself?" Wanda asks from her place on Rogue's bed, sounding both disgusted and bored. Kitty pulls her pillow over her face and breathes deeply.
This is going to be a long week.
…six geese a laying, FIVE GOLDEN RINGS! four calling birds, three French hens, two turtledoves, and a partridge in a pear tree!
A/N: I don't hate Lance, btw. Despite appearances. Also, idk if tasers can be retractable someone hmu.
ALSO: according to official sources Pietro and Wanda don't practice Judaism, but their mom isn't in the picture and their dad is Jewish so I went with that.
I just really love stroganoff, okay?
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