DISCLAIMER: Of course I don't own any of the characters here. If I did, it'd be easier to pay my bills, and I'd spend all day playing with them and dressing them up and making them kiss their designated partners.
~ Scarlet Letter ~
Mall Brawl...
Turned out it was a busy day at the mall and half the world had simultaneously decided to go and blow their paycheques on random consumables so the two girls were fairly inconspicuous in the crowds. As inconspicuous as two attractive Gothically inclined teenage girls could be, at least. Wanda had doffed her hoodie for the occasion and was wearing a deep red bodice under her equally red trench coat, and Rogue shot her an admiring glance out of the corner of her heavily lined eye. Wanda really was a stunning young woman, for all she was completely uninterested in anything to do with the opposite sex and was more confused and frightened than actually repulsed by Toad's blatant advances. There was repulsion there too, but mostly it was his disregard for her personal space and the way he spoke to her. She didn't like the cute nicknames and the constant interruptions whenever she did something – the way he was attempting to woo her was just totally wrong for the way she was as a person and anyone who wasn't Toad could see it in the dark wearing a blindfold. Alas, Toad was Toad. And he couldn't see much beyond Wanda and the acquiring thereof, and flies, and the eating thereof.
Rogue knew Wanda sympathised slightly with the fact that Toad couldn't actually use soap products due to his amphibious traits and the allergies that followed them, but she still couldn't stand the smell of him, and if someone that smelly ambushed Rogue every morning at the breakfast table she thought she'd likely get a little pissy too. What Wanda needed was someone who could warm her up to the idea of people not being worthless scum. And someone who'd make her laugh. Pondering this, she stopped her friend and motioned that they enter the bookshop to the right of them.
Wanda smiled and nodded and they went in together, and Rogue was again thankful that Wanda didn't see together time as an excuse to chatter endlessly, like Kitty did. She preferred silence to chit-chat and spoke when necessary. She also didn't blather on about Lance Alvers and had good taste in music. Browsing the shelves of the shop – a favourite haunt of theirs since it carried the more obscure authors and some of the racier titles – Rogue noticed that Wanda's fingers stopped their trailing at a certain book which she pulled out and studied with an expression that seemed to say she'd forgotten something. Her mouth moved as she read the blurb and then she turned to face Rogue with a sort of disbelief in her eyes.
"St. John Allerdyce – didn't he used to be an – ?"
"He was an Acolyte sugah, went by the name o' Pyro... Why?"
"He – he wrote this book..." She handed it to her friend who studied the inside credits.
"Damn... Looks like he did... So, what? You wanna read it? See if it's as messed up as he is?" Wanda laughed at that.
"Come on Rogue, your Bobby's just as obsessed with ice as Pyro is with fire, it's probably just a thing they have because they can control something like that – he's just unlucky that his obsession has a clinical name." Wanda's eyes were crinkled with smiles but at the heart of them Rogue saw the silent plea her friend was actually making. 'Don't call him insane when it's not his fault.' She nodded.
"Alright sugah, fair enough – I'll buy it for ya an' you can tell me if it's any good! You know you love all that historic paranormal romance shit an' you've got me hooked too so let's check it out!" Wanda put an arm around the Southerner and squoze quickly before releasing her.
"Sure! Go find something you want and I'll return the favour!" And Rogue was pushed to the next row of shelves, shaking her head over the impulsive girl. Wanda was really a great person. You just had to peel away a few layers first.
~******************************************************************~
" – Remy tink dey're talkin' about y'," he said to his companion who was hanging over the railing watching the people below him in a detached manner.
"Hmmm? Me? Why'd they be talkin' about me?"
"Dey're in a bookshop, mon ami," the Cajun said nonchalantly.
"Huh. Nothin' ta do wi' me, mate," the disgruntled Aussie maintained, keeping a firm eye on the milling crowds on the lower levels.
"Perhaps not. Mais oui, de petite friponne be talkin' bout y'... Sometin' bout a book..." His friend snorted.
"Keep it t' yerself mate, I don' care what they're on abou', we're jus' here t' stalk that Rogue gel an' I told you it ain' none o' my beeswax." Remy smiled to himself as his eyes followed the two young ladies on their way through the less interesting people. As unaffected as his pyromaniac accomplice sounded, Remy could tell he was intrigued. He had put his lighter away, for one, and he was sounding purposefully grumpy as opposed to just bored and restless as he had been before.
"Y' mean t' tell Remy y' don' like dat Wanda femme? Don' lie t' me, mon ami, she's tres belle an' I know y' tink so too..." St. John Allerdyce sighed dramatically and flexed his shoulders back.
"So? Jus' because some sheila's a looker I have t' be as obsessed as you are with that Rogue? I know y' think you an' 'er are destined t' be together or somethin' but give the rest of us a break will ya?"
"So y' tell me, homme – if she decided she hated y' an' y' didn' have a snowball's chance in hell – would y' still be playin' de 'I don' care' card?" Remy smirked at his friend who made an exasperated noise and said,
"What is it with you an' cards? It's always the cards! Give i' a bloody rest, mate! Oh look, they're getting away..." his voice trailed off in a less-than focused kind of way when he mentioned them, his blue eyes fixing on a point somewhere beyond and to the right of Remy's head.
"Non, we're going wit' dem," the Cajun pointed out, grabbing his spaced-out comrade by the shirtsleeve and setting off at a brisk pace.
"Oi! Let go you tosser, I can walk y' know!"
"Pysh – y're too slow –"
"You know it's a federal offence to stalk someone like this, right? What do you think she'd say if she knew? Poor little sheila – invites y' back t' the inner sanctum of her room, think's y've turned over a new leaf, an' lo an' behold y're still the same nutjob y've always been... She'll be so disappointed. I know I would be. She'll need therapy after this mate –" Remy stopped suddenly, rounding on him, and St. John stepped smartly to one side to avoid being tripped up.
"Remy never told de petite belle he turned over anytin' an' y're not gonna tell anyone either, got dat?"
"Whatever," the Aussie rolled his eyes and then focused again on a point somewhere beyond Remy. "Who are they?"
"Huh?"
~*******************************************************************~
"You were on TV, weren't you? You're one of those mutants!"
"Look, my friend's not giving any autographs so back off, okay?" Wanda said calmly, stepping in front of Rogue. There was a group of football-jacket wearing idiots facing up to them, fronted by a blonde with a squarish head and a dull-eyed expression.
"Your friend, or your girlfriend? You know what she is? She's a freak!" Wanda weighed her options. It would take a second for her to bring the whole place down around their knees if she wanted to – or if she lost control – and Rogue didn't need the hassle of this fuck-up in her head. She opted for trying to diffuse the situation.
"We're not freaks, we're just humans like you with different abilities. We're not here to hurt anyone, so let us go and everything will be fine," she said, trying to sound reasonable. All right, maybe there was a little threat in there. The thuggish lad who'd stopped them on their way shoved his face into Wanda's and said,
"You protecting your girlfriend, you mutie bitch?" Rogue noticed the slight tremor that ran down Wanda's back.
"If I am, you can be sure that I can do a lot better for her than you could ever do for anyone you spineless piece of shit now back the hell off," she said in a controlled voice, and Rogue put a hand on her shoulder.
"Wanda – sugah, let's go..." she said quietly, and the other girl shook her head.
"No."
"Listen to your girlfriend sweetheart, you don't stand a chance against all of us and we don't want you freaks in our town!" There was a murmur of assent amongst his cronies, and Wanda took a deep, calming breath. And hexed the offending jock into the fountain without blinking an eye.
"Wanda! Oh mah Gawd!" There was a split second where it was clear that his friends were thinking their own options through, and Rogue gripped Wanda's blue-wreathed arm so tightly she was sure she was cutting off proper circulation.
"Wanda, honey, calm down, they're not a threat to you, we're leavin' c'mon –" And the hapless fuckwads she'd been trying to protect from the wrath of her best friend decided to charge them while they were momentarily distracted.
"Why – can't – you – people – just – leave – us – alone!" Wanda screamed, raising both arms in the air and bringing the jocks to a precarious two-metres-over-the-floor position where they hung at her mercy suspended in crackles of blue fury, wailing and yelling their dismay.
"I am so sick of being victimised by you pathetic worms! This girl saved your asses – every one of you – and you should be bowing down to her but instead you think it's fair to go seven against two on her in the middle of a public place where mothers come with their children! How do you defend that? You can't even defend yourselves! Look at you! I could kill you now and no one could stop me! It would be justified – the world doesn't need ignorant shitheads like you deciding who gets to walk unmolested through the streets - I'd be doing everyone a favour!" Rogue still had a death-grip on Wanda's arm, and she was biting almost clean through her lip in fear. If the witch lost it for even a second she could very well kill them and when she was in this sort of state Rogue wasn't sure she'd be able to bring her out of it if that happened.
"Wanda, please –"
"Young lady, I'm gonna have to ask you to release those boys immediately!" Rogue looked around to see one of the mall's security guards standing to the left of them with his weapon trained on Wanda, and she groaned. Great. Just fantastic.
"They were harassing myself and my friend here, sir, and I don't think that's entirely fair, do you?" Wanda asked sweetly, turning her head to look at him with a blinding smile, and the guard jerked as though expecting her to be some kind of demon instead of a lovely young woman.
"I – no miss but I have to insist that you let them down and I promise they'll be prosecuted within the reaches of the law. Just let 'em down and I'll take care of it..." Wanda pouted.
"If you're lying I'll be very angry," she said in a singsong tone, and Rogue had to wonder whether she'd lost it already.
"I assure you miss, no one wants to see justice done any less than you do. Let 'em down and we'll talk..."
"Okay." Wanda's expression turned cold and indifferent at the same time as she swept her hands downwards and brought the jocks crashing into the floor. Rogue could tell she'd dragged them into it instead of just letting them fall.
"Alright now miss, could you hold them down while I call for some assistance?"
"I'd love to." Wanda froze them with a careless gesture and the guard began to speak into his walkie-talkie while Rogue regained the power of speech.
"Oh mah Gawd Wanda – y' could've killed them – y' could've been shot – why did you do that?!" Wanda looked at her as though she was babbling and said,
"Because you're better than them and they needed to be taught that."
"Oh hell, sugah..." Rogue buried the Scarlet Witch in a hug. "Hell..."
~******************************************************************~
"She be as crazy as you, mon ami," chuckled the Cajun to St. John who stood next to him, surveying the scene. Wanda was levitating the jocks in a haphazard pile towards the guard's interviewing room, taking little care as to whether or not the avoided corners and sharp edges, and the Australian laughed quietly, which was out of character even on a bad day.
"Sheila's not crazy, mate – she's loyal. She did it for your sweetheart down there. Y' should thank her sometime." Remy smirked.
"Maybe Remy will..."
"Like hell," the disturbingly calm St. John shot back, walking away, and Remy raised an eyebrow at his retreating back.
"Why y' bein' all nonchalant about dis, mon ami? Y' actin like y' usually do after we've let y' burn down sometin' big." St. John laughed, loudly and not a little maniacally this time. Better, the Cajun decided. He didn't know what to do with a subdued Pyro.
"Well maybe there's more 'n one way t' get that effect," he managed between bursts of laughter. Remy nodded warily and caught up to his friend, unsure if he had finally crossed the line between being semi-unstable and at times a little creepy to fully certifiable. Best not to dwell on it, he told himself as the pyromaniac procured a lighter from nothing and proceeded to play with it. Yes, definitely best not to dwell.