Chapter 1- "I Wear My Sunglasses at Night"
Remy Lebeau was devilishly handsome, yet still a little bit gritty in the looks department. He always managed to have a hint of stubble on his angular jaw line and it seemed like his skin was permanently permeated with the addicting scent of cigarette smoke and booze. Still, the man was the ultimate lady-killer. Tonight he sat in his usual corner at Luke's Tavern. No uniform tonight. He wore just some faded jeans, black boots, an old Aerosmith shirt, and the brown leather duster that he wouldn't go anywhere without. He had pulled the collar all the way up too. His aviators rested gently on the bridge of his nose, well protecting the unusual coloring of his eyes. Signature red on black, like hot coals in a fire almost. This haunt didn't exactly fit his style, mainly because this was not a mutant friendly hangout, but the bartender had gotten familiar with Remy's tastes and was always attentive. Plus, this bar was packed with all kinds of excitement. All types of people flocked to Luke's every weekend. There was the biker pack, the just barely legal frat boys, a never-ending supply of blondes and cougars, sometimes a midget or two even, but never a mutant. And Remy even kind of liked the fact that he was all alone in that respect here at this bar. Sometime it could get tiring hanging out in a room full of super-powered people. This bar grounded Remy whenever he was feeling off.
Just then, Remy lifted his head when his spatial awareness alerted him that Brian, the bartender, was looking his way. A slight tap of his index finger on his glass and he knew a fresh whiskey, no rocks, was on its way. He liked his spirits warm. It reminded him of days long past when he & Lapin would sneak out in the night. Lapin would wait outside in the brush until Jean-Luc's light in his study went out. Then he'd start hurling little stones at Remy's window as a signal to get going. Remy himself would jump out of his bed, fully dressed, scarf up his pilfered liquor bottles from the day and hop out the window and down to his waiting cousin. They'd slink off without a sound in one of the old rowboats and wait until they were far enough away from hearing, and end up drinking and rough-housing all night long. Most of the time, they'd lose track of the hours and come skulking back as the sun would peak its head over the horizon. And mostly every time too, Tante Mattie would be sitting on the porch just waiting patiently as she tapped her toe at them. They never got in too much trouble, but neither of the two boys enjoyed being scolded by her.
A shadow unexpectedly cast over Remy and he looked up into Brian's face. His drink was here. "You know man, one day I gotta get my cousin Larry here to see which one of you can drink the other under the table.", said the bartender. He knew he had well over-served the reclusive man with the shades, but Brian had come to learn the guy was no threat. He always saw the guy's bike left sitting in the parking lot when he was closing up on nights like this. He had never started a fight and he had never been rude either. So Brian had never seen a need to cut him off and usually didn't mind bending the rules for him. The guy had some kind of charm about him. Remy flashed him a grin, "Dat sounds like a challenge!"
"My money's on you man. You're a machine." Brian's eyes sparkled just a hint at that, and then the man turned and headed back to man his bustling bar.
Remy took a swig of whiskey and relished it as it coated his throat and left a warm tingling sensation in his stomach. He closed his eyes and smacked his lips together a few times as he began to reminisce again. That usually happened when he was almost 10 double shots in. Actually, Remy had lost count, but he knew he was somewhere around there by now. He'd probably have to leave his bike here tonight and call a cab.
The sound of a fluttery laugh pulled him away from his thoughts. A new femme. Remy looked up and scanned the bar. The sloppy blonde with the balloon-sized breasts was still at the left end of the counter taunting every guy that was just barely legal to be there. She nudged one kid with her shoulder, leaning her head into his chest and shamelessly stroked the inside thigh of the man sitting on the other side of her. All while bragging that she knew how to set her nipples on fire, all she needed was 2 matches and a little water. Definitely not Remy's type, and certainly not the owner of the new laugh. Scanning down, every woman was the same as before. The quiet, sad-looking redhead who nursed her sex on the beach all by herself, the 350lb chick that came in every weekend with the same twig of a guy who was barely 5'5". Remy always wondered why she didn't just eat him! His eyes kept scanning down. Same, same, same. Then he spotted her standing at the other edge of the long bar counter. She politely giggled again as a man with a long dark pony tail whispered something in her ear. Her sparkling eyes darted up and out as she clutched, with white knuckles, onto a briefcase that she held in front of her.
Remy could just tell that she was nervous. Aside from the strained laugh and the fierce grip on the case, he could just feel the nervous energy cascading off of her. Yet, she had an air of strength about her as well, and that was something that Remy liked very much. He could tell a strong woman just by the way she stood. Yeah, this femme was nervous, but both of her feet were firmly planted on the ground keeping her perfectly balanced, her back was straight with her shoulders square, and she wasn't giving up any of her personal space to the man that was flirting with her. She wasn't even leaning her head in to make it easier for him to whisper to her. Rogue had stood very similar to that when he'd first met her.
Remy sighed and took another swig of whiskey at the thought of his past love. Rogue. The pair had finally ended it for good, and it had seemed like forever to get over it. At least for Remy it had. Without much warning, Rogue had gone and run off into the arms of Magneto. The ability to create a magnetic/static force field around himself so that Rogue could actually touch a man without draining him dry, had been impossible for Remy to compete with. And it had been almost impossible for the X-Man himself to get over Rogue. He'd spend most of his time getting trashed in the first few months. Gambit would down a fifth of whatever, break into the Danger Room and have a go at training sessions with all the safeties off. Luckily, it was usually Wolverine who would find him afterward slumped down on the floor wallowing in his own blood and untamed tears. Remy was thankful that Logan was so discreet in those moments. He'd usually help Gambit find his feet and send back to his room to sleep it off or on a few occasions, he'd lift Gambit's battered body and personally carry him to the med lab. Wolverine always came up with an expert lie to keep Henry from reporting the "accidents" to the Professor or Cyclops, the team leader.
Next came the anger. First it was at Magneto, for stealing his love away. After Remy sat dumbly in his own room with some of his precious belongings smashed to smithereens a few times, he decided to break into Magneto's own private base. He managed to mess up anything he could get his hands on, including Magneto's prized Bentley. Gambit new the guy could afford to fix it, and wouldn't even give him the pleasure of confronting him about it, but it still felt good to do it. Plus, Gambit made sure that the car would never be the same again, especially with the permanent smell he had made sure would never be able to get pulled out of the interior.
Remy popped out of his thoughts for the moment and chuckled over the memory of dumping a gallon of spaghetti sauce of the back seat and grinding it in with his boots. Yeah, he was over Rogue and he was no longer angry at Magneto, but that still didn't mean that he would ever like the guy.
For a short time after he stopped blaming "the other man" Rogue had fallen for, Remy started to focus on himself and all of his own faults. He secluded himself from the rest of the team and wound up sleeping for days on end. Ororo had tried to counsel him on it, but nothing was working. It was just another phase of grief that Remy just had to get through himself. It also didn't really help when Rogue herself tried to step in. She had hoped that setting up a double date might do the trick. It was a disaster that ended up with Remy becoming so furious with her that he spent a few nights calling her at ungodly hours just cursing at her and spitting any kind of venom he could think of through the receiver. That was the part he regretted the most. While he spent his time hating her, she just patiently waited for him to move on and never once took a chance to get one of her own shots in. Only every once in a while she would say, "Oh Remy. Ah know you're hurtin', but ya know this is for the best. We weren't workin' togetha. We tried Sugah…" The hardest part was that he knew she was right.
It was difficult for him to sleep for a long time after that. Some nights he would just lie awake examining every part of their relationship. He would search over and over again for that one moment where everything went wrong. That one moment, which he later found out had never really existed, plagued him. He wanted to fix things, put it all right again, but he couldn't. The only way that Remy could find sleep would be to bundle up all his pillows and blankets next to him to resemble a sleeping Rogue. He would wrap his arms around them as gently as he had cradled her in the night. He'd imagine only her as he softly whispered into the pillows where her ear would be, "Rêves doux, mon amour". ("Sweet dreams, my love) Even then, he still couldn't sleep peacefully. His dreams were always invaded by her. It was enough for him to have to battle off Sinister all the time, but Rogue joining all the fun in his head was impossible.
For almost a year he had been a complete mess.
But just how summer sneaks up on a person as they wish for it through the whole winter and then suddenly there it is, one day Remy woke up in his bed and he was just over all of it. He would always love Rogue, but he was finally able to let her go and live his own life without her. He'd even decided that being single wasn't so bad. For a little while, he'd had a different woman every night of the week in his company. While that was fun, it did get a little exhausting after a while, so he gave it a break.
Remy did the math in his head and realized it had been almost 2 years since Rogue had left him. At this particular moment, he wasn't seeing anyone specific and he hadn't officially gone out on a date in a few months. It was kind of nice having time all to himself. He could do anything and go wherever he wanted. It didn't mean he wasn't still admiring all the femmes though, as he came out of his thoughts and focused back on the lovely woman standing at the corner of the bar.
She was glorious and magnificently tall. She wasn't quite the height of Remy's 6'2" frame but she had to be at least 5'10" if she wasn't wearing any heels. Her look was enticingly exotic. Her raven black hair was thick and voluminous as it cascaded over her shoulder into tousled curls halfway down her back. The sharp steel cut features of her face were softened by her creamy and incredibly soft-looking skin. Remy's fingers almost ached with the want to brush them along her face. The rest of her body was perfectly proportioned in his opinion. She had a sweetly curved bosom, a small waist that slowly widened at her hips to support the curve of a backside that could make a man weep, and long, lean bronze-kissed arms and legs. If looks could kill, this femme would be a professional in all rights, especially with those cold, icy blue eyes of hers. Remy almost felt dizzy staring into them. They were so pale and bright that they nearly glowed. Simply put: She was stunning.
Remy's mouth started to water as impure thoughts quickly began to invade his utterly male brain. He looked down into his whiskey glass for a distraction, and in one huge gulp finished the last swallow in a hurry. He wiped away the slight sheen of sweat that had begun to bead on his brow and fumbled with his shades to be sure they were still in place. He groped in the deep pockets of his duster and pulled out a wad of cash. Loosely, he separated a few bills to what should be the appropriate amount to pay his bill and leave a decent tip, and threw them down underneath his glass. It was time to turn in for the night. He couldn't help but steal one last glance at the fiery femme. Remy was very taken with her and if he stayed any longer, he might attempt a pass at her. Not that he was too shy to do so, but he had a feeling the loser taking her attention wouldn't appreciate it. And Remy could not afford to start a bar fight here tonight. He wasn't stupid. This wasn't a mutant joint and he had no backup.
As Remy feasted on the way her short, black leather dress hugged her curves, another man walked up to the pair from behind the bar and gestured for them to follow him. The playboy stood and offered the woman the crook of his arm. She blushed ever so slightly as she shifted the briefcase to one hand and allowed him to lead her with the other. She flicked her neck and whipped her hair back as they travelled the length of the bar behind the new man. Just before they turned toward a door that obviously led to a private room, the lady's eyes broke into Remy's line of sight. In that one moment, she had lifted her head and scanned the back of the room. Her shining eyes instantly locked onto Remy. It was brief but the look she shot at him was as if he had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. She slipped him a slightly coy smile and winked as she turned and went through the doorway. The guy with her was a complete idiot, thought Remy. He had no clue that he'd lost her attention for just a few seconds, and that attention had been given directly to Remy. As the pair disappeared into the private lounge, Remy rose up on unsteady feet and adjusted his trench coat. He wobbled a little and noticed that his balance was off from all the drinks, or perhaps it had been the fine-looking femme. He double-checked that his aviators were still in place. How had she known he was staring?
He smiled, gave a nod to Brian, and stumbled out of the bar. Oh yeah, he'd be catching a cab tonight.