DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything here, no band names, place names, songs, films, characters or television shows at all. It sucks but it's true so y'all can pack up your suing equipment: I know hopscotch.
(Dearly Beloved, welcome to your promised update, and now, let us give thanks. To my dearest anon goddess, girl, you are something else and if I owned any of this not only would I share with you, there'd be a temple to your praise erected somewhere in Bayville right now - the risqué scene I promised had to be moved up because the chapter was too long!!!! I am so sorry but I will make this up to you. Laceylou76, honey, you rock and you know it, I'm just spreading the news here! Rogue-scholar07, I aim to please. Bloodypassion, you are an angel among reviewers, may you dream of Romy and obtain a Pyro centrefold within the next few days, I'm sending you the vibes necessary. LadyMageLuna, I'm so glad you think so. Bianquis, I am glad I'm giving you something you like and I hope you'll let me know if this is up to the usual standards. Ashmanda LC, you are so sweet and here is the promised update. I hope you all have a wonderful day and that you are all at this moment, healthy happy, and ready for some fiction because here it is!)
~Scarlet Letter ~
Truth Will Out
~**************************************************************~
The t-shirt she was wearing was adorned with a deep green zero across the chest embellished with a horizontal line through it. It draped the contours of her torso as she bent to retrieve something on the floor. Her black satin hotpants slid up at the movement – she didn't bend at the knee when she swiped the CD off the floor at all. Her hair flew around her face as she straightened and turned, an expression of shock painted on it that rearranged itself into a kind of embarrassed pleasure as she tucked a section of hair behind her ear and cocked her hips to the right. Someone should paint that, he thought to himself.
"Ummm, I was just borrowing this – I thought you'd gone out," she said, the words rushing over her scarlet lips, tumbling over themselves.
"I had. I came back." His face was unreadable and his voice sounded strained, but not unpleasant.
"I... you don't mind?" She was blinking too often. He noticed that. She wasn't nervous was she? Well it had been a trying day, he supposed she was entitled to a little nerviness. He smiled and gestured to the mess of his room.
"I told ya luv, anythin' ya take I won' even notice it's gone, don' worry about it. Go do whatever Sheila's do at slumber parties, I gather ya don' get ta do this sort of thing often..." She sighed lightly.
"No... Kitty's usually sleeping in Lance's room and Pietro always needs something or else Toad's trying to peep or some shit and we can't talk because there's always someone listening at the door..."
"Well your brother's incapacitated – brilliant job luv, I have ta say it was beautiful – ole Blobster's downstairs snoozin' away the calories, Slimy's off somewhere having an aneurism because there are too many Sheilas in the 'ouse an' Rocky won' budge outta his room til the little Sheila's gone. Take advantage!" He grinned at her and she suddenly felt so uncertain. She covered it up with her traditional anger.
"You know it's sick how much you enjoyed watching me hurt Pietro," she said roughly, regretting it the second it escaped her and wishing she could take it back. The flash in his eyes made her wish she had just run instead.
"I didn' enjoy it."
"I'm sorry John, I didn't mean it like that, I – "
"You meant it. Don' worry about it. Go and do whatever it was ya were goin' ta do. Have a ball." Her hands reached for him in spite of herself and she flinched at the last moment, the look in his eyes burning into her. It wasn't hatred, it was so much worse. It was disappointment.
"I really didn't – I just – I didn't want to admit that I thought it was funny as well, okay?!" She was yelling now, her eyes narrowed and angry but her shouts were sobbed, as though she wanted to cry and couldn't.
"I'm not supposed to feel that, I'm not supposed to want to hate him like that but I did, I hated him so much it was like he'd done something so awful to me I couldn't bear it and I just – I had to hurt him! I liked hurting him! I even liked that you were laughing earlier, it made me feel better about it and I knew that was wrong, it was all wrong, so I couldn't deal with you being there! Oh Gods, what's wrong with me?" The last bit was a sort of choked whisper and her eyes shimmered with tears as she trembled, looking at him as though he were about to hurt her for the things she'd said.
"Come 'ere..." The arms he folded her into were warm and inviting and she held onto him without a thought for the impropriety, without a thought for anything but that she needed him to understand so he wouldn't hate her, wouldn't think she was crazy or sick or – or anything. She needed him to think well of her. It coursed through her like some sort of drug, calling to her and she wanted it. She wanted him to look at her the way he did, talk to her like she was normal, just a normal girl...
"Wanda... Ya can' blame yaself fer anythin' ya feel – you don't control that! It's not your fault an' ya didn' do anythin' wrong luv, ya have ta believe me... He deserved ta be knocked about fer bein' a bastard. I know ya don' feel righ' fer enjoyin' it an' fer wantin' him ta hurt, but trust me when I tell ya it ain' you who has a problem. It's not your fault..." She looked up at him disbelievingly, expecting to see the lie in his face that she couldn't hear in his voice. All she saw was concern and certainty.
"But I wanted to hurt my own brother, John..."
"We all want things sometimes that we aren' proud of later, luv... If we hated ourselves for it everytime we did, we'd never get a break. You're not the only one who's not proud of the things they want, alrigh'? Don' let it eat you up inside. You're not a bad person - no matter what you hear." The fact that he said that and not 'who says something' or 'what someone tells you' was enough for her. The fingers on her face were gentle and she closed her eyes as he wiped away her tears.
"Trust me luv. I wouldn' lie to ya." She opened her eyes and caught the briefest hint of something in his she couldn't describe better than despair, but she waved the thought away. He didn't despair over anything. He was stronger than that, better than that. He didn't succumb to any of the foolish things that dragged down so many other people she knew, like guilt, or the idea of what was appropriate when, or the notion that you had to fit in to be in. He didn't believe his abilities made him God but he didn't see them as a curse either – he saw them as a gift and his respect for them bordered on reverence. She sometimes wondered if the label of pyromaniac wasn't just an explanation for the symbiotic relationship he enjoyed with his powers – or an excuse for the less conventional aspects of his behaviour. She realised then that she was standing in his arms, leaning heavily against his chest, looking at him as though the world could end around them and they would still remain.
"I do... I know..." she said quietly, almost afraid to admit that she did, because as much as she heard it from others, as much as she'd seen it for herself, she didn't believe he was dangerous – or that he was insane. The acceptance on his face certainly wasn't.
"Thank you." And he let go of her, tucking her hair behind her ear the way he'd done that night – that night she'd felt the burning for the first time...
"Thanks for this," she held up the CD, awkward, waiting for something but not knowing what it was.
"Anytime. Go and have fun luv..." She nodded, smiled quickly, ducked around him and left, closing the door. He waited until he could hear her door open, the girls welcoming her back, and that clicking shut before he turned on his heel and drove his fist into the wall, hard. It wasn't bone he heard cracking...
~**************************************************************~
She was across the hall, he knew that. Down and across the hall in Wanda's room with the girls, all in their PJ's, smiling and laughing and gossiping. Her favorite scenario. He recalled all the times there had been other girls down and across the hall, and she had been here, with him, the smile on her face belying the fact that she wanted to join them. And every time he had said, go, go and hang out, I'll be right here when you guys are done talking, and she had smiled and shaken her lovely head, silken chestnut locks loose and flowing over her shoulders, and she had always said no, I want to be here. With you.
She wasn't with him now. She never would be again. It was over. And he still didn't know why. He knew it was his fault, that much was fairly obvious from the looks the girls had given him and the probing questions Rogue had asked, but he still didn't know how he had managed it. Maybe it was for the best, anyway. Maybe this was God's way of letting him know that he had been allowed to taste heaven so he'd know what he was going to be missing. Here's the love of your life, the most beautiful girl in the world, you've got about a year and a half to have a go at it and then it's bye bye future and hello lonely life and possible alcoholism. Maybe he should ask Pyro and Gambit how to go about that one, they seemed to have a pretty good handle on it. It was safe now anyway, he knew that once the ice cream was secured the girls wouldn't be leaving their room again until morning, or what was more likely, late noon. With a pang of remembrance of their late noons together, he slipped out of his door and ventured downstairs, a particularly loud giggle from Wanda's room haunting him all the way down the hall.
~**************************************************************~
She was upstairs, he knew that. It wasn't a hundred miles away but heaven knew it was far enough. He'd wanted to go and watch her from the tree outside Wanda's window but John had put his foot down and called the tree as a no-go. He had grudgingly accepted that they needed to compromise and suggested they eavesdrop outside the door, but Pyro had been surprisingly stubborn about it and had vetoed all of his suggestions for espionage which led to a very pouty Remy slumped over the coffee table awaiting John's imminent return with the booze while he pondered the possibility of going for a bathroom break and peeking through a certain keyhole...
"Gambit? Can I like, talk to you?" He looked up with a scowl on his ruggedly handsome features and was met by slightly less but not without merit handsome features. It warmed the cockles of his ego to know that he and John were not only older and cooler but also vastly more attractive than any of the Brotherhood boys. And since he and John were on the same team and not out to get the same femme, he had no problem allowing John a joint spot on the Sexiest Male In The Brotherhood House throne.
"Y sound like de petit chat. What do y' want t' talk t' Gambit about?" Lance threw himself into an armchair and sulked.
"You just said it. Kitty. I just don't get how she could get so mad over nothing! I want her back."
"Je suis desole mon ami, but as far as Gambit hears dat ship seems t' have sailed," Remy said, not unsympathetically.
"That ship has sunk, mate. Smell the bloated week-dead corpses in the water already." Pyro was being blunt as hell, but he was also carrying three large bottles, and Remy cracked a grin that could melt the pants off Margaret Thatcher.
"Ah, John, mon ami, are dose f' y' old friend Remy?"
"They are indeed mate. You an' me. What's Rocky mopin' about 'ere for?"
"Troubles wit de femme. He asked fer Remy's help." John whistled.
"I thought ya loved the little Sheila mate? What you askin' Remy fer advice about that for?" Remy glared at John, indignant to the last.
"Dat's not de point, de point is he needs t' win back sa cœur an' dat is sometin' Remy can do!"
"Ya can' 'elp a man who doesn' know what he's done wrong," John reasoned, pouring generous shots of something Lance didn't recognise for himself and Remy and lifting his glass to the Cajun, who reciprocated the gesture.
"Cheers, mate."
" À votre santé!" They tipped the glasses back and downed whatever it was and Remy grinned at John and waggled his glass in his direction.
"One more fo' de angst?"
"Definitely." Lance looked at them with honest shock on his face while they repeated their previous actions and John filled their glasses again. They turned their attention to him.
"So, y' wan' the little Sheila back, righ'?" Lance nodded, still a little put off by the fact that they were drinking like that. For all his tough-guy attitude, he'd only ever been drunk once and that was on cheap beer with the other guys and none of them had wanted a repeat of the bollocking Wanda had given them for it.
"Yeah, but – "
"First things first. What exactly did ya say to 'er an' why?" Lance blushed.
"This isn't really something I can tell you guys..."
"Was it dirty?" Remy raised his eyebrows and gave Lance a piercing look.
"Oui, Remy sees it in your eyes. Y' said sometin' to de petite an' she took it de wrong way."
"Well, yeah, I said something, but I don't get how she could take it that way..." John rolled his eyes.
"Mate, it's gonna be so much easier ta tell ya where ya failed if ya jus' plain come out with whatever it was ya said!" Remy nodded, fixing John with an approving gaze and downing the rest of his shot. John refilled with the glass barely having touched the tabletop again. Lance was starting to feel severely out of his element.
"Okay, I told her..."
~**************************************************************~
"He asked if I'd put on any weight anywhere!"
"No!"
"No! That bastard!" Rogue looked quizzically at Wanda. She didn't usually use that word, did she? And she'd had that weird flush in her cheeks ever since she came back from finding that CD. Kitty was flushed too, with righteous anger, and Rogue focused on that.
"I know! You can't ask that! It's like, so not the right thing to say! And it was at like, a really bad moment, you have no idea!" Wanda nodded.
"I can guess."
"So you yelled at him, right?"
"Of course I yelled at him! I told him I wasn't putting up with that crap from him and that if he thought I was going to stick around and be insulted he had another thing coming!" Rogue gave her half a hug.
"Good girl sugah, Ah always knew ya had it in ya. Told that hick good, you did. Ah am so proud!" Wanda joined the hug from the other side, leaning in over the ice cream tray.
"We are so proud!" Straightening from the hug, Wanda sat back, but Kitty giggled and pointed to her chest and she looked down. There was a big splatter of ice cream across the front of the zero and she groaned.
"No way! I can't wear this!" Kitty's giggles escalated and Rogue had to join in.
"Go get changed honeypie, we'll be here when ya get back!" Rolling her eyes, Wanda left them to it and exited her room, knowing her laundry would be in the down stairs laundry room drying. Surely there'd be a clean T-shirt down there...
~**************************************************************~
There was hysterical laughter coming from the living room, layered over angry protests, and she peeked in. Remy and John were collapsed over one another laughing themselves silly and Lance was standing over them making wild gestures and yelling. He couldn't drown out their mirth though, and she couldn't help but laugh a little too, their amusement infectious despite her not knowing what was so funny.
"Is that my Wanda I hear?" John managed between hoots of laughter, and she opened the door, coming into the light. Lance stared at her unashamedly.
"Lance..." she scowled at him, and he shook his head as though to clear it. Remy chuckled.
"What, sorry?"
"Your jaw, mon ami, pick it up, non?"
"Right, right..." Lance went a nice shade of red that would have gone very prettily with her new corset, she thought, but she didn't comment. There was a lot of alcohol lined up on the table and John wiped the corner of his eye.
"Priceless mate, bloody priceless... Ahoy there luv, come to see what all the fuss is about?" She nodded, looking at the floor. He'd switched his long-sleeved black T-shirt for a sleeveless black beater and she hadn't really noticed how well-muscled his arms were before. She shouldn't be noticing that...
"Uh, no, just – came down for something else and wanted to see what was so funny... I thought maybe Toad had gotten stuck in the bug-zapper again..." John's eyes shone at the thought and Remy nearly drowned in his shot of whiskey.
"He got stuck in the bug-zapper? Oh, Wanda... Ya know jus' what ta say to a bloke..." She giggled at his dreamy expression and he snapped back to the present and stood up, taking her by the hand and leading her out on impulse, and she followed him out into the hall.
"What – John, what's – "
"We think we know what Lancey-boy said to the little Sheila to upset 'er an' ya won' believe it but he wasn't actually tellin' 'er she was fat an' we think if she hears him out we can get them back together. I can' stand him mopin' about like this, it's bloody awful," John said excitedly, and she smiled.
"Great! So – so he still loves her and all that? I mean, he's really sorry and he can explain it?"
"With a little help, yesh. Certainly. We'll make sure he can do it, you jus' 'ave ta supply the Sheila. Can y' do it luv?"
"I can do it. I'll tell her something to get her in the living room and then she's not coming out until it's sorted. How long do you need with Lance?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Give us half an' hour luv. We'll sort it." She grinned at him.
"Thank you John," she said and turned to walk away to the laundry room.
"What are ya doin' down here anyway?" he called after her and she turned to face him, pointing to the stain on her T-shirt.
"Had an accident and I needed a clean one... Are you guys drinking in there?"
"Don' worry luv, jus' the ones who can take it," he grinned, and she winked.
"Eighties rock going to be popular tonight?" He winked right back.
"I wanna love ya but I better not touch..." he hummed the rest as he retreated back to the living room, leaving her to change her shirt in the laundry room and rejoin her friends. Seemed there'd be scheming tonight after all...
~**************************************************************~
"Kit, why are ya really here? Ah know y'all better than this. If ya aren' talkin' ta Lance ya wouldn' be caught dead in this place." Kitty twisted a lock of hair around her finger and sighed.
"I like, got into this big fight with Jean and Scott and then I just couldn't take it anymore. Scott said he was going to like, come over here and steal you back and like, knock some sense into you and Jean was like, you can't do that and I agreed with her and then she was like, totally on my back about you leaving and all that so I just,like, left." Rogue nodded warily. It seemed likely enough but she wasn't taking any chances. Could be Kitty just wished to punish Lance with her presence.
"Ummm, hey, you guys, I'm back..." Wanda entered in a T-shirt with what appeared to be a grecian warrior on the back holding aloft a severed head. When she turned around Kitty read the words 'Virgin Steele' on her chest.
"Like, where do you get all those shirts, Wanda? Some of them are like, totally creepy!" Wanda just laughed and fingered the material fondly.
"I have to have the shirts honey. I'm a fan. I'm into the music."
"Uh, yeah, I get that, but you couldn't be into bands that don't have CD covers with like, death on them and stuff?" Wanda just shook her head and sat down, crossing her legs.
"Kitty, we can't all be into Jonah Bangers and Mildred Cycles or whatever the hell they call themselves," Rogue said disparagingly, and Kitty bristled.
"Hey! It's Miley Cyrus and Jonas Brothers, and I'll have you know I like that song you were playing the other day... What was it called... Pretty – something..."
"Did it go like this..." Rogue hummed a passage and Kitty lit up in a smile, nodding.
"Yeah! Totally like that!" Wanda giggled.
"Kit, that song's called Pretty When You Cry – it's kind of sadistic!"
"But he was like, singing 'I don't wanna hurt you baby'..." Rogue and Wanda cracked up laughing and Kitty pouted.
"Hey! Stop that!"
"Kit, honey, he sings 'I didn't wanna hurt you but you're pretty when you cry...'" Wanda sang in her throaty voice and Rogue joined in.
"I didn't really love you baby I didn't really love you – "
"I didn't really love you but I'm pretty when I lie..." Kitty's face fell.
"Oh... Okay... I totally didn't get that..."
"It's okay – but not everything we like is about death and getting hurt – "
"Or kinky sex," Rogue added, and Wanda rolled her eyes.
"Or kinky sex, thank you Rogue." Kitty just shook her head.
"Whatever... I'll never understand you guys..."
"Oh! That reminds me! We've got the TV in the living room if we want it, we got a new TV," the last was directed at Kitty, who clapped her hands.
"Yay! Can we watch Love Actually?" Wanda exchanged glances with Rogue, who mimed being hung.
"Yeah, sure. You got it with you?" Kitty dug around in her bag and pulled it out, and Wanda nodded at it. If this was how they were going to get Kitty to go down there with them then they would do it. She could always dispose of it later without her knowledge. The offensive item didn't belong in the Brotherhood House.
"Wanda – " she shut Rogue up with a meaningful look, and athough Rogue looked at her curiously, she accepted it and they went downstairs with Kitty chattering on about someone called Hugh Grant being like, so sexy, and made popcorn. Kitty went to the bathroom to remove her makeup and Rogue fixed Wanda with the universally acknowledged 'dish' look.
"Remy and Pyro think they know what the hell got into Lance and we need to get her in that room with him so they can talk. The guys are going to tell him how to fix this."
"You seriously think this will work?"
"Rogue, those two need to be together. They're in love. I don't even know what the hell that is – if your mouth is opening to say someone's name it better damn well close right up again!" Rogue closed her mouth obediently.
"Ah agree with ya on the whole Kitty an' Lance thang but do ya think the guys can handle it? Lance is chronically bad at explaining thangs..." Wanda sighed.
"I know. But they said they'd fix it so we have to believe them. Oh crap, here she comes – Kitty, popcorn's done, you got the movie?" Kitty waved it at her and resumed her monologue on the good points of Love Actually and it's actors while they led her into the livingroom and pushed her in in front of them. She gaped.
"Oh my God you can so totally like, forget it!" she squealed, enraged and trying to get away, but Wanda held her in place with a shot of blue and pointed at her sternly.
"You two are going to talk! I am sealing this place up and you are not coming out until you've made up because you two need to be a couple!" Kitty glared at her and Rogue and then spun around and glared at Remy and John who flanked a very nervous-looking Lance Alvers.
"You two put her up to this?! I am going to phase your spines right out of you! You just wait until I'm done with you two!" Remy clapped Lance on the shoulder as the other youth gulped, and said,
"She's all yours, mon ami," and fled the scene, John saluting him and following Remy closely, Wanda and Rogue backing out slowly and Rogue closing the door for the witch, who encased the room in a shield of blue and then stepped back.
"Now let them deal with this crap," she said, satisfied, and turned to Rogue, but Rogue was off to one side, talking to Remy, or rather, being spoken to, her downcast eyes and fidgeting hands telling Wanda that this could well be a moment for others to talk as well. John put his hand on her shoulder and whispered,
"I say we get going luv, looks like we're not wanted," and she nodded, not understanding why that made her feel like she couldn't breathe but following him upstairs nonetheless.
~**************************************************************~
"Like, oh my God, Lance Alvers, you went along with this set-up? I cannot believe you." She crossed her arms, sticking her nose as high in the air as it would go, and he felt his nerve leave him.
"Kitten, I – "
"Don't call me that you jerk!" She stamped her foot and he couldn't help a private smile. It was one of the things she did when she was upset, like a petulant child.
"You are my Kitten... Kitty, what I said to you, I didn't say it right and that was stupid, that was my fault... Will you hear me out, please? I haven't slept or eaten since you left me, I just want you to give me a chance, hear what I've got to say... I love you, Kitty..." She peeked at him under her bangs as he stepped towards her and said,
"Nuh-uh you don't!" He took another step and put his hand on her cheek, threading his fingers through her hair.
"You know I do, Kitten... I'm in love with you. You're the only one I've ever wanted... Will you hear me out?" She tossed her head away from his hand and glared at him.
"Fine!" she snapped, and he sighed. This was the difficult part.
"I know you think I asked you that stupid question because I thought you looked fatter, Kitten... But that isn't why I asked."
"That is why you asked, you asked if I'd put on weight anywhere!" she sobbed, and he smiled weakly.
"You know we were... kinda fooling around at the time?"
"Ugh, like, don't remind me!" She tried to cover up her blush by narrowing her eyes at him again, and he cleared his throat.
"Well... the reason I asked is because... I thought I could feel... Like... That you'd maybe... Put on a little weight in a real specific place – like, say..." he looked pointedly at her chest, which she covered with suddenly frantic hands.
"Oh! I – like, you mean you – " he nodded, chancing a few steps in her direction again and putting on his pleading look.
"I just – I didn't know how to ask if it was true or not so I said it the dumbest way I could possibly have said it and I hurt you... I didn't want to hurt you..." She looked at him with wide eyes.
"You were actually, like, asking if I'd like, gone up a bra size or something?" He sighed.
"Pretty much... Kitten, can you forgive me?" She barrelled into his considerable chest, shreiking delight and throwing her arms around his neck. The kiss said it all.
"I totally didn't think, you'd like, notice! I have, yes I have and of course I forgive you, you dumbass! I love you so much Lance Alvers!" She only ever used his last name in conjunction with his first on two ocassions. One when she was very, very angry, the other when she was...
"God I love you Kitten!"
~**************************************************************~
"How are you holding that hex from up here?" he asked casually, and she shrugged.
"Practice, concentration – what is he wearing?!" She sat bolt upright in his lap and stared at the screen as professional Only Gay In The Village, Daffyd Thomas of Little Britain fame strode into the pub in a highly suspect pink latex number.
"Oh Gods that is so funny! America just doesn't make stuff like this!" she fell back into his lap and got comfy and he nodded, distracted.
"I think you can let go of that hex now, luv..." Wanda looked up at him.
"Why?" He nodded downward and she cocked an ear and then blushed profusely.
"Oh!" she released the hold she had on the hexed livingroom and began to bite her fingers at the first joint, embarrassed. He took her hands and held them still in front of her.
"Don't," was all he said, and she looked back at the screen again, this time seeing nothing, the burning inside her taking away everything but the feeling of his firm chest against her back and his strong hands cradling hers. They seemed so frail in comparison...
~**************************************************************~
"Wow... looks like y'all taught Rocky ta apologise, huh?" Rogue asked, clearly embarrassed, twirling a section of pure white hair around her finger.
"Oui, John taught de homme de rules of looking very sorry, Remy taught him de rules of sounding very sorry. Looks like we don' make bad teachers..." he smiled slyly and she hit him on the arm, not hard.
"That's mah roommate in there ya perv," she said angrily but when he raised a questioning eyebrow she dissolved into helpless giggles.
"Oh mah Gawd, it's so gross Ah can' believe that! Ah don' wanna know! Can we go? Can we leave?" They were in the hall outside the living room and he proferred his arm to her, which she took.
"Righ' dis way, ma chere..." They walked out onto the porch, the starry sky twinkling at her as she looked up into the reversed abyss that were the heavens and sighed. The night air kissed along her arms, reminding her through the soft cotton of her nightie that she was only mortal. The warmth of his arm around her waist was a much more poignant reminder though, and she allowed herself to feel it, to enjoy the fact that someone was touching her this way and not flinching or ready to pull back.
"Y' tink I'm a liar, don' y' chere?" She looked up at him, his red eyes glowing at her just as the warmth in her chest was glowing, and she shook her head.
"Ah don' know what Ah think. Ah think y'all are a good person who's caught some really bad shit an' y've done what ya could with what ya had... Ah think that's all anyone can ask of anybody..." He smiled at her.
"Y' don' mind de tings I've done, chere? Y've seen some of dem, y've been in my head..." She blushed, the niggling memory of him in the hospital fighting it's way to the front of her mind.
"Ah've seen worse... Ah don' think you're a bad guy, Remy. An' Ah think if y' tried, you'd see it too..." He moved to stand behind her. Unconciously she knew it was a way to avoid looking her in the eye but she couldn't ignore that she liked having both of his strong, warm arms around her, encircling her waist like that... It made her feel delicate, protected... Cherished, almost...
"Chere?"
"Hmmm?" It dragged her back to the moment. To who was holding her like that. She wondered why he wasn't afraid. He should be. The slightest falter and he'd be absorbed and she'd have him right back in her head again. Not that he'd given her any trouble the last time he'd been in there. No comments, nothing. Surprising really, but then she hadn't made use of her powers since Apocalypse and she had put it down to that.
"Do y' forgive dis fool of a Cajun fer takin' y' back den? Truly forgive? I haven' ever felt righ' abou' dat... I know I shouldn' a' done it. I didn' tink an' I didn' know back den..." His voice was soft, melting aroud her, into her, and she held back a shiver. She wasn't cold.
"Know what?" her breath caught as he tilted his head, the moonlight sparking against the red of his irises.
"Dat I'd miss y', ma chere... Dat I'd be tinkin about y' every day, all de time... Dat I'd fallen in love wit' y'..." She pulled away, turning to look at him, fear tempered with exhilaration and lust for confirmation in her heart, welling up inside her until she had to speak.
"What?"
"I couldn' get pas' it chere, I couldn' jus' ferget it an' I knew I never would – I had t' come back for y', I had t' see y' again. I spent all dat time destroyin' dat monster's chances o' makin' a comeback for y' an' even dough I know y' migh' not believe me, I have t' be honest wit' y'... I've lied my way trough life an' dat's all I've known but y' deserve de truth, chere... An' I don' tink I can keep it t' myself any longer... I was always so good at keepin' secrets before y' came along..."
"You – you're – you – "
"Je t'aime, Rogue, de tout mon cœur..."