Ch.3 I'm In Complete Control. That's What I Tell Myself.

Three nights had passed since Miss Banks had visited the mansion and Remy had spent every one of them at Luke's Tavern on his own personal stakeout. With his blazing eyes properly hooded by shades, he would sit in his usual corner, constantly scanning for that gorgeous figure of hers. He was trying to remain discreet, but Remy was positive that Brian knew something was up. On the first night, Remy ordered his whiskey the usual way. However, as the night wore on, Brian was biting at the bit to refill it as Remy did his best to nurse the shot all night. That was the first time at Luke's, or any other bar really, that Remy had made it through the entire time with only one drink. The next evening he sent Brian into shock after changing his usual table as well. He'd picked a more central spot to get a better view of the front door and was closer to the bar in case he had to get up from it in a hurry.

Tonight, Remy had already been sloshing his first, and only, shot of whiskey around in its glass for close to 4 hours. The glass itself was barely even halfway drained. Brian never mentioned a word about Remy's new, strange behavior. Perhaps the crisp fifty dollar bill that he'd been leaving behind with his drink every single night since he had started his vigil at the bar had something to do with that. He didn't know how long it would take to run into Claire there, but he just knew in his gut that eventually it would happen. He just hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. Forcing himself to watch a never-changing bar crowd night after night without even a decent buzz going was beginning to take its toll. Lady Luck must have been listening to Remy's complaints in his head because just at that moment he noticed the familiar sound of 4-inch heels clicking into the bar.

Remy's shaded eyes shot up towards the door and were rewarded their prize. Standing there in a gun metal grey pantsuit was just the woman he wanted to see. Claire. Except for the change in suits, she basically looked the same as she had at the mansion. 'So de first night I saw dis femme here wasn't a usual type of night for her' Remy noted. Plus, she was still lugging around the briefcase. Claire also didn't notice Remy as she stalked out a spot for herself near the end of the extensive bar. In turn, Brian hadn't noticed her yet as he had his back turned while he was catching up on washing some pilsner glasses. However, Claire placed two fingers to her lips and let out a quick and sharp whistle that caught his attention. He lifted his head and turned in her direction, then smiled when he caught a look at her. Obviously the bartender was familiar with Claire. As he stepped over to her, Claire leaned over the bar ever so slightly and whispered something into his ear. Remy could feel his face getting hot, and was tempted to get up right then and walk over to her before he had to get his world crushed by finding out that they were lovers, but his instincts told him to wait it out. He continued to watch as Brian responded by leaning back away from her a bit and shaking his head at her with a slight frown.

With that quick exchange, Brian shrugged his shoulders at her in apology and went on with tending his other bar customers. Remy settled slightly. The evidence was clear that the pair was not a couple. Claire just stood there with her arms crossed and looking not only disappointed, but suddenly very out of place. She uncomfortably looked along the length of the bar and over to the private room that she had snuck off to before. Remy was ready to approach her but he wouldn't be able to sneak up on her like he wanted to with her looking around like that. He would have to wait for the right moment. Claire finally took a seat on a bar stool, tucked the briefcase onto her lap, and propped her elbows onto the bar. She sighed so forcefully that Remy could see her shoulders rise and fall from the effort. Brian had noticed her dismay and expertly glided back to her. He seamlessly grabbed a rocks glass, a bottle of vodka, and in a blur of a few seconds slammed a purple-colored concoction in front of her. He smiled at her again, as she jumped in surprise at his little gift. It was apparent that Claire had never received a drink on any of her visits before. Brian didn't stay to speak to her though, so Claire was left alone again just giving her drink a quizzical look. Remy seized the moment and slinked over to the edge of the bar. He made sure to stay back and behind of her icy, cold glare. He wanted to catch her off guard because he was planning to use his charm power on her. It usually worked best when his "victim" was dazed and confused to start. Also, usually getting them to look directly into his eyes gave him the full effect of his power, but since he had to keep the shades on he already knew it would be dulled. Silently, Remy slipped into the empty barstool next to Claire's just as she began to swivel her stool around. Their movements ended up sending them directly within inches of each other's fronts.

"My dontcha look like a fish outta water!" Remy exclaimed.

Claire had unmistakably been oblivious to Remy's presence since she fumbled with the drink she had just grabbed, and inevitably just dumped all over herself. She squeaked as soon as the accident happened and effortlessly snatched her briefcase up with her free hand to keep it from getting soiled. Her suit however, had not avoided the spill. Remy now felt a little guilty for startling her so badly and tried to calm her down by flashing her a grin as she spared him another glance. Personally, he ached to be that spilled beverage across her chest. She was quite distracted though, and began to do her best to wipe her suit jacket off. She was failing miserably, since one hand was occupied with holding the briefcase and the other still clutched at the now empty glass.

"Oh my. Oh….goodness," she whimpered. Claire stepped close to the bar and tried to get Brian's attention by setting her briefcase on her stool and snapping her fingers in his direction. "Club soda! Bartender! Club soda please!" she shouted as politely as she could. Brian, for the first time Remy had ever seen, was preoccupied with a pretty young woman who had placed some earphones over his head.

Remy stood and reached behind the bar to grab the pop gun. He quickly grabbed Claire's now empty glass and filled it with club soda for her. "Guess we got a jumper too, neh? My apologies chere."

She grabbed a cocktail napkin, accepted his gift, and began to dab at her suit. "Thank you. I'm sorry I wasn't really expecting anyone to-" She stopped mid-sentence as she finally lifted her head and caught a good glimpse of who was actually talking to her. She suppressed a chuckle as she recognized the man who had startled her. "Well, Mr. Lebeau", she smiled.

"De one and only," he retorted. "I wasn't sure you would still remember me."

"Well of course I do" she said, losing interest in her ruined suit. She angled her body toward him and locked her eyes onto his shades. "You're the head of Professor Xavier's security detail for his school."

"Dat be right." 'Good' he thought 'got her lured in like a fish on my line in de bayou'. His charm power usually was stronger when his eyes were exposed but he had enough skill to get it to work just the same. He just couldn't be as direct with it, so he made sure to send out a strong empathetic feeling of friendliness and calming energy. He really just wanted to lull her so she wouldn't run off. He knew the longer he could speak with her the more willing she would be to stay on her own accord.

"Do you come here often Mr. Lebeau?" she asked.

"No it's my first time here," he lied. He could feel her emotionally tense up at that a bit so he pointed to the stage where a band was starting their set. "Came to check 'dem out."

"Oh." There was an awkward pause that was quickly filled by the loud, blaring music of the punk band. As the lead singer screeched something unintelligible into the microphone Claire dazzled Remy with a smile and yelled, "Quite an interesting taste in music you have Mr. Lebeau."

"Remy," he shouted back to her, but she didn't understand so she lightly clutched his bicep with her free hand and leaned in close. "I'm sorry what?"

"My first name is Remy."

"Lenny?"

"No. Remy."

"Reggie?"

He shook his head while smiling. "Re-my." Never had he had so much trouble getting someone to pronounce his name correctly.

Claire looked like she was about to say something but burst out laughing instead. This time she put her very lips right up to his ear. "Would you like to get out of here and get some coffee with me Remy?"

He couldn't have been happier. An angel was standing in front of him, wanting his attention. He nodded in agreement and she swiftly took off for the front door with her briefcase. Remy saw that Brian had noticed their exchange so he whipped out two fifties and slapped them on the bar to signal their departure. Brian grinned as Remy flashed him a quick salute and continued his pursuit on Claire.

As soon as Remy stepped foot outside of Luke's, Claire seamlessly snuck her arm under and through his and began to lead him down the street. His old Southern charm that had basically been beaten into him by his adoptive Father, Jean-Luc, kicked in and he better fashioned a spot for her delicate hand in the crook of his arm. He placed his hand on top of hers to keep it cradled in his arm and was pleased to feel how silky and smooth it was. "Where to?" he asked.

"Just down to the corner here. There's a coffee shop that stays open all night. I'd like to discuss some things with you."

16 YEARS AGO

They were all assembled in the tactical room, with the instructor supervising their progress. Their ages ranged from 12 all the way down to 4. That was the only noticeable difference between them all at this stage. Once all 15 of them had been selected for the program, their hair had been closely cut along their heads and dyed a dark shade of brunette. Every one of them wore the same uniform, a black form-fitting jumpsuit. Nothing here was personalized. It was all part of the program. Now they did need specific training individually in order to work as a unit, so everyone was numbered. It was easiest that way in order to not discern sex or nationality between each one. Numbers 1 through 15, that was the only thing that differed between them all.

The group was now piecing together rifles and then quickly disassembling them. The goal of this task was for everyone to do it at the exact same speed in order to improve uniformity. The instructor clicked her timer to stop the current round. It was an impeccable time; 21 seconds, but it was still a failed attempt since it was only one subject in particular who had finished with the rifle. All of the others were barely halfway through. "Reset," called the instructor.

Number 8 looked to Number 3. "Slow down. You are causing us all to fail." Number 3 turned their head and looked Number 8 square in the eyes. "Speed up. The purpose of this task is for all of us to be perfectly in sync at a fast paced time. If I must handicap myself in order for that to happen then not all of us will be perfect and we will have failed in another way." The conversation was over as soon as it had started, so they both turned back to the front and focused on the exercise once again.

PRESENT

The instructor grinned. They were all the same. Not one of them was better than the other. Save for one of them. Number 3 was pure perfection. "Again."

It was a considerably short walk, barely even a block. The coffee house was small but they managed to find a secluded table in the window, especially since it was close to 2:30 in the morning. There wasn't much of a rush for coffee at that moment either. Remy was amused to see Claire daintily stirring a cup of tea, while he was masterfully pretending to enjoy a large cup of Colombian brew. It was obvious that neither of them were big fans of such libations as coffee and yet here they were.

"Now you don't mind my asking but," she clinked the rim of her teacup and set the spoon down on the saucer, "are you head of security for the school or just the Professor himself?"

The question was odd and Remy was beginning to wonder if he had actually charmed her at all. Perhaps she was only interested in him for other reasons. Luckily, he was an expert liar as well as a master thief. He knew the most important rule of creating an illusion: keep it simple.

"Well, more personal security I guess, but he don't like to broadcast dat," he said. And the game began. He was going to stick to his cover until he learned more about Claire.

"I see. Well that makes more sense," she responded. Remy decided to jump into her lure. "How do you mean?"

She squirmed a bit in her chair and continued the conversation. "Oh well, when I was there earlier and he introduced you as the head of security. It just struck me as odd. It being a school and all, plus it's spring break right?"

Remy grinned, "You a sharp one," he drawled. Claire giggled in return. "Oh stop, I just notice details. You know, like your accent. Most would assume its French, but I'm guessing it's something more attuned to this continent. I could look more North like Canada, but I'm betting it's from a more Southern region?"

"Girl you impressive!" he was now smiling like the Cheshire cat. "Oui. Cajun to be exact."

"Aha! Oh I'm good," she gloated. "Well now that's all settled…"

He leaned in closer, "But you have more questions," and finished her sentence for her.

"Correct. Why is it that the professor has a personal security detail to begin with? I don't see many scholars walking around with bodyguards much either."

'Wow" Remy thought, 'this femme is ruthless!' He decided to risk going a little deeper. "You know he fights for mutant rights, yeah?" Claire nodded. "Well so does everybody else. Good and bad. Over de years he had more and more bad attention, so he hired muscle."

"I see."

Remy felt like it was time to turn the conversation around and get the ball in his court. But as he was about to start, Claire jumped in again. "So what are your credentials? FBI? Ex-military?"

"No, no, no. Uh…" This was getting uncomfortable and out of hand. It was time to rely on the second rule: Try to add as much truth as possible. "I used to be a t'ief."

Claire's eyes widened just a bit at receiving that information and she quieted down for him. "Look I'm not proud of 'dis, but I got caught breakin' inta' de vault in his study."

"No way!" clearly this type of talk was exciting to her. Now he had her like a fish on a hook. "Tell me," she said and she flitted her fingers towards him, motioning for him to continue.

"A few years back I broke in dere late at night-"

"So you knew who he was," she interrupted.

"Yes. And he had somet'ing I wanted." Claire was literally gaping at him. "The unregistered mutant list?" she asked. "No. Tuition." Clearly it wasn't the answer she had been hoping for. Claire calmed down slightly and sat back in her chair. "Oh."

"See I knew all his students paid cash, more private dat way. And I had information dat it all got deposited on Monday morning. De very next day de night dat I snuck in. So dat vault was burstin' at de seams wit' cold hard, untraceable cash. But as I was loadin' up my loot, ole' Charlie just walks in; like he knew I was dere." As Remy was fabricating his tale, he could tell that he was slowly losing her interest, especially since he had tarnished the idea of there actually being a mutant list. 'Golly she be obsessed over dis list. I wonder why?' he thought. While Remy was deciding what to say next in hopes of getting her attention again, something else he had said apparently peaked her curiosity.

"He just came in? Not knowing your intent at all?" she asked.

"Yup. Jus' wheeled his self right in, one of de best poker faces I ever seen."

"You didn't trip an alarm maybe?"

"Nope. I may be retired from t'ievin' but I was de best. No one sneaks up on Ga- Remy!". 'Dat was a close one' he thought on his near slip with his codename.

"Except for Professor Xavier."

"Yep" He paused a moment. Claire waved her hand at him again. "Well go on!"

He smiled to himself, "Well dere he was, and I just freeze. So he starts talkin' all calm-like. Saying dat he's doin' his best to change de world for de better and dat he can tell dat I'm looking for some'ting greater in my life-"

"Were you?"

"Well yeah in a way. So he says he can tell dat I am worth much more den as a criminal. Says he believes in me and if I want I can come back tomorrow and deposit de money and den work for him as long as I want."

"That's a lot of trust to put in a stranger." Claire was just eating this story up.

"Don't I know! It was so weird, but I really felt dat he did believe in me. So much dat I agreed."

"Just like that!"

"Sure. I mean, he made his offer, clicked de light off and den left. He didn't even wait for me to decide dat night. So I packed up wit de cash, slept on it, and was back de next day."

"You deposited your stolen loot for him!"

"Course I did. I don't know why but he made a big impression on me, and I haven't regretted my decision once since den." The story had been fabricated but his admission to never regretting being a member of that mansion was nothing but truth.

Claire went for another sip of her tea but realized her glass was now empty. She must have been intensely sipping on it the entire time. "Well that is some tale."

"Yeah, I guess." 'Enough wit story time' he thought. Now it was Claire's turn to do some talking. "But enough about me. How 'bout you? What is it dat brought you cross my path?"

"Oh well, nothing as grand as your story. I did the usual, went to school, wanted to be a lawyer, couldn't find a job, so I became an assistant. Unfortunately my employer doesn't have as great a faith in me as yours does." She shared a slightly apprehensive look with Remy as if wondering if she should continue. Remy felt it and used his empathy to create a feeling of safety for her. It must have worked since she swallowed her fear and then went on. "It's not his fault really. See he has this ongoing project. Part of it is based here and the other is in Egypt. He's trying to find a direct genetic line to mutantism, which of course is even just politically difficult to do."

Remy suddenly realized how much pressure Claire must be under. If he fully understood what she was saying, then Professor Vargas was searching for the cause of the very first mutant to ever exist. If anyone ever found that information, it could be huge. Claire continued, "He recently almost completely ran into a dead end, but Egypt has lent him another clue, but it's not much. His best chance is to review known mutant lines and trace them back in order to see how certain genes evolve through a family line, but with the mutant registry being so controversial, all he has are fragments to work with."

Remy was letting her talk, he could tell she was dying to get this off her chest, but it was time to get more serious. "Dis sounds massive."

"It is. Years of work!"

"But why?"

She furrowed her brow at his question, "Why what?"

"Why is he lookin'?"

"Plenty of reasons! To better understand mutant genetics, which could lead to hundreds of thousands of new discoveries and outcomes for the better of mankind!"

"Or for worse…."

She stopped on her rant and leaned in. "Look, I don't know Professor Vargas that well, or his intentions, but this is information that needs to be found. Then the world can fight over it and use it for good, ill, or however it chooses."

Right then Remy felt it. Mistrust at her mentioning Vargas. So there was something she wasn't saying, but just then she looked up at the clock on the wall. "Oh my goodness, it's past 3am!"

He turned to look, "Guess it is," then turned back to see her gathering up her briefcase. "Wait, why de sudden rush?"

She was frantic. "I live all the way on the other side of the city!", she shouted as she rushed out the door. Remy was right behind her as she vigorously walked towards the bar. "So?"

"I came here with a driver. He usually waits for me but if the bar closes he will assume I went with another driver. Professor Vargas has an extensive team."

As they approached the bar, Remy could tell it was well past closing time. All the lights were shut off and it was eerily silent. Instead of rushing to the parking lot, Claire ducked into the alleyway on the opposite side of the building. Remy scoffed at her oblivion to safety and rushed right after her, but the alley was clearly empty of everyone and everything. Her ride had obviously left. Claire pulled a phone from her suit pocket but then threw her arms up in exasperation after poking at it a few times. "Of all the luck! My driver is gone and on top of that my phone battery is completely drained. Not like I could call for another driver anyway…"

Remy could see the poor girl was losing it. "What am I to do now?"

"Easy. Ride wit' me."

"With you? But I hardly know you."

"Chere, I protect people for a livin'. I t'ink you'll be alright wit me."

She took a moment to consider and then agreed. "Well what choice do I have anyway?"

Remy lead her out of the alleyway and towards the parking lot. Her eyes scanned the empty lot and then fixed on the only vehicle there. Remy's Harley. "That's yours?", she pointed.

"Sure is.", he said as he nonchalantly strolled up to his beloved bike. Claire was left standing a few feet back. "You know, I'm not so sure-"

"Ah come on Claire. Live a little!"

"This really isn't a very safe mode of transportation."

"Definitely not."

"I have my briefcase."

"I'll put it in de trunk."

She nervously laughed at that one, then inched her way closer. "I have no helmet."

He unhooked his only one and tossed it her way. "I got a spare." She caught it in one hand and held it tightly and unmoving. Remy wasn't sure if this was going to work just as she finally gave in and exclaimed, "I guess I'm out of excuses. So how do we do this?" She set the briefcase down in order to latch the helmet onto her head. Remy snatched it up and as she reached her hands out to start to protest he cut her off. "Calm down. I'm gonna tuck it up safe in de front. You just get on behind me."

Claire knew there was no more arguing to be done as Remy hiked his leg over one side in order to straddle his Harley. He slipped the key out somewhere from one of the many hidden folds in his trench coat and revved the engine to life. Claire delicately balanced herself off of his shoulders as she swung her leg over the bike as Remy had done. She managed to find a foothold, even in her heels, and nervously sat back. He could feel her fear and couldn't help but smile. 'Newbie', he thought. "Hold on chere!", he called over his shoulder as he lifted the clutch, clicked into gear and let the bike peel out with full force on the accelerator. Claire felt the pull and instantly leaned forward and clutched her arms around his waist. "Just tell me when it's over!", she yelled into his back where she was finding shelter for her face.

Not much longer after that he remembered to ask her where exactly to go. Every once in awhile she'd say, "Turn here", or "Take the next left". Other than that, neither of them spoke. Claire's body was completely flush to his backside and to Remy the warmth of her body felt damn good. He knew Claire was glued to him purely out of fear, but he'd take it. The last woman on his bike had been Rogue. Sharing his ride with a femme was special in a way, it involved trust. He was pulled from his thoughts when he finally heard Claire say, "Here. The gray brick building."

He slowed the bike over to the side and dropped his foot down to keep the bike balanced as he stopped it. Instantly he felt the night chill on his back as Claire scrambled off and handed him back his helmet. He secured it back in its place, Remy never wore his helmet, then traded the briefcase to her.

"Thank you," she said, "I guess this is goodnight then."

"Guess it is," he crooned to her with his Southern drawl. She awkwardly gave a little wave and turned to walk inside. "Sweet dreams chere!" he shouted just before she made it to the door. Caught off guard, she paused and then turned back his way. She held her ground a moment but then rushed her way back to the bike. Her eyes sparkled into his sunglasses. Very slowly, she leaned in, and Remy realized that he was hoping that she might actually kiss him, since he had begun to close his eyes in order to receive it. There was a long moment of nothingness, and then Claire politely cleared her throat. Remy popped his eyes open and noticed that Claire's beautiful lips had been replaced with a business card in front of his face. "It was nice talking to you tonight. Here's my number if you'd like."

"Oh. Er, sure. 'Kay."

"Goodnight." she whispered to him and then sashayed back to her front door. Remy watched her backside wave goodbye to him all the way until she was inside. 'Oh boy Remy' he thought, 'What you got yourself into now?', as he felt butterflies flutter in his gut.

He closed his eyes again just before starting his bike up. He had to savor this moment. He used his spatial awareness to take in the whole night. The misty darkness. The gentle sounds of a sleeping city. Even the acrid smell of tar mixed with copper as the wind brushed across his face. 'Wait', he thought, 'Dat ain't right. Tar and copper?'. His eyes flashed open. There was only one thing that Remy knew had that distinct smell and it wasn't city air. It was a mutant he would as soon forget if he could.

Sabertooth.