Chapter 2 - All Grown Up
You tend to think that living in a house full with petites would be eventful to say the least, much less mutant petites, so why it is that Remy is so bored? Oh maybe because these be spandex wearing, card carrying mutant petites hell bent on saving the world one deranged madman at a time. Maybe if they organised a conference and then allowed Remy to charge the building, Insert evil Remy grin Remy make big BOOM!
Uh oh, les enfants looking at Remy weird, that's Remy's queue to leave now. It's not like they really need constant supervision or anything after all, they lil' kids! Don't see why stormy and shades couldn't let Remy come on the mission, Remy does have un petite peu experience in this sort of thing, Guilds, Acolytes, X-Men they all the same thing.
Alors, what is a modest thief like Remy supposed to do in a big old Mansion all by his lonesome self, grin it's like carrying one of those enfants to a candy store or worse yet, Emil at a Spy Store. Let's see, if Remy canvasses the entire building and its surroundings within and hour, Remy shall help himself to Logan's Secret Scotch Stash. Try saying that three times fast…
One hour and a few shots later…
Sighs, Remy still bored, but what's that up there in the sky? Is it un oiseau ou un plane? Non, it's Super Roguey! Merde! Thank god she not a telepath! She'd skewer me for that, sniggers it would be funny to see her mad-as-hell expression. Damn, is Remy drunk? Non, a few shots of Scotch can't get me tipsy… maybe it was the tequila shots when I was playing Go Fish for shots, damn telepaths and X-Ray vision kiddies, or was it mon shades? Anyways ma Chere looks like she needs a healthy distraction, namely moi! Now to get her attention…
BOOM!
"Dammit Swamp Rat! Will ya watch where ya throwin' them things?" she yelled but lacked any sort of conviction.
"Bonsoir Chere! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Maybe the femme in need of some Cajun Charm.
"Ma clothes are covered in soot, ma hair is all tangled and wind swept and ah'm this close to taking that damn X-Jet and playing pin ball with its occupants too." She trailed off but there was that maniacal glint in her eyes and Remy didn't know if he should be scared or turned on. The latter preferably.
"Remy'll make you a deal Chere, you go get cleaned up and meet me by the Gazebo out back in about half an hour, non, make dat forty five minutes 'cause the femme look like she could do with a little soak in the tub. Better yet how bout Remy joins you?" with that oh-so-sexy grin that makes all the femmes become like putty and makes the Rogue flush and start to rant… 3, 2, 1…
"Dammit Swamp Rat, will ya git your head out of the gutter for once!" she don't realise that the tell-tale flush makes raising her blood pressure worth it. Remy easily doges the halfhearted attempt at a right hook, making him realise just how exhausted she really is.
"All jokes aside Chere, go take your soak in the tub and when you ready for some company, Remy'll be waiting at the Gazebo. Now, scram you smelly River Rat!" wrinkling mon nez, and waving at her to move.
She hesitates slightly and this is something that is completely foreign to the headstrong goth he once kidnapped, "Thanks for this Swamp Rat, in advanced anyways. Ah'll see you in a bit."
Before Remy can answer though, she floats up to her room and Remy can't help but wonder what happened to his Chere in the past three years. Well maybe he can find out ce soir.
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There is nothing as relaxing as a nice soak in a tub, with bubbles, lots and lots of bubbles. I really, really do not want to leave the sanctity of my room, or even this tub after having such a difficult day. Ah, the joys of invincible skin: no waterlogged and wrinkled skin after a long soak. Alas, my charming Swamp Rat waits. Wait. What? My? Mm it's the exhaustion that's talking, yea that's it.
Now if I can only figure out what to wear? Huh? This is not me. I am Rogue. I kick ass. Swamp Rats do not fluster me, especially the trench coat wearing, card shuffling sort. However, the Harley riding, five o'clock shadow sporting, Cajun Casanova that wants to talk…Nope, does not get me all hot and bothered. As if, it was that easy to get to the The Rogue. Ha! Nothing in that rant however, helps me decide what to wear!
To fly or not to fly? That is the question. Mm a gentle breeze beckons, sky bound I am then. I wonder if I can sneak up on the Swamp thief…
"Boo!" I yelled as I swung down from the roof, only to notice the empty gazebo. Damn it, did I just get stood up?
"Hey there Chere" came the Cajun drawl in my ears, making me jump six feet clear, "you weren't planning on scaring this modeste Prince o' T'ieves now were you?" with that self important smirk that practically screams 'God's Gift To Women'.
"Sugah, one of these days, ah'm gonna wipe that smirk off that pretty lil face of yours" I all but growled. Or at least I believe I didn't growl cause he's grinning and chuckling in that infuriating manner which makes me wanna smack him senseless.
"So Chere thinks this Cajun's got himself un beau face, n'est-ce pas?" and his chuckles erupt into laughter as I merely stick out my tongue at him in response. I'm not gonna deny the truth cause I'm sure he can read me like a book.
We talk for hours, ignorant of all else and we covered all possible topics; from my personal battle with Apocalypse to his father's plan to unite the Guilds and his subsequent exile. The happenings of the X-Men over the years fill the minutes quite easily as do life as an Acolyte and various animated stories of his family fills hours. The conversation was not always serious as we both made light of our respective stalkers; his possessive and narcissistic ex-fiancé and the sadistic scientist enthralled by my gift.
Carol Danvers and his own encounter with Essex surprise us both and talking about our pasts comes strangely simple. It is only later into the conversation that we both admit that we have both made peace with our past grievances and decided that when you are at rock bottom the only place to go is up.
He never let the conversation become uncomfortable though, with blatant and rather creative flirting, being ideal icebreakers. I confessed to be recovering from a depression, which had lasted much too long and he admitted to his unhealthy stint of women and booze; neither of us being saints. It is the first time that I admit that I had missed him or at least to the idea of what he represented, another tainted soul within the gates of heaven. Chuckling at the irony of my analogy, he made a blasphemous suggestion to which I could only flush.
The full moon shines brightly in the sky now making it impossible to ignore the late hour. We both sit contentedly however, neither ready to break the amicable silence which we have lapsed into. I'm sitting on the side railings of the Gazebo, my back propped up on one of the poles, one leg hanging down and the other resting along the railing. My foot unconsciously nudges his knees rhythmically where he sits on the same portion of railing, straddling it comfortably with his head lolled back slightly in silent observation of me through downcast eyes.
Those eyes captivate me and I choose to outright stare at him because I am The Rogue and I kick ass and if I choose to oogle you, you are damn lucky. Ah, such confidence, I so rock. Frowning at the last thought, because it sounds more like Kitty than me I decide that its time to pay attention to my growling stomach.
I clear my throat to get his attention, "Ahem, Swamp Rat, if by some miracle you haven't heard my stomach, I gonna head inside and get sumtin' ta eat." As I make my way out the Gazebo, I call out over my shoulder, "So what, ya waitin on an invitation or sum' Cajun? Cuz if ya are, don't hold you're breath."
He grins and swings his legs over the rails. "Why Chere, did you jus invite this Cajun to dinner? Remy thinks he impressed. Never think his Chere fall for his Roguish looks. "
That has to be one of the stupidest puns I've ever heard but I don't tell him, instead I resort to rolling my eyes in silent protest and hope this displays the grand level of maturity which I've proudly gained.
He laughs at me and I can't help but to realise that in the short while that he has been here it has sound as genuine as it had been for the evening's entire discourse. I'm suddenly acutely aware that I've caused such a wonderful sound and I have this sudden urge to see what other sounds he's capable of and a rush of images flood my mind. I'm blushing like mad, hoping that he doesn't catch me red-handed, rather re-faced, and I abruptly halt my footsteps trying desperately to reclaim my mind from the gutter. However, this just alerts the previously oblivious Remy and I curse myself in every language I know for my stupidity.
"Chere? What's the matter?" Before he can probe however, I stop him in his tracks.
"Swamp Rat, you know what I feel like right now?" I cut across the no doubt lewd comment he's dying to make, "Touching the stars" and without a second thought I grab his hand and lift him high into the night sky.
Hearing him scream like a little girl is worth it though and as he scrambles on top of me and clings for dear life, afraid I'll drop him or really try to touch the stars because according to him, "You a folle femme!"
I can no longer suppress my laughter. Unfortunately, this causes a little turbulence on Air Rogue and he wraps his legs around my waist as he whimpers about a death wish.
After a moment, he calms down, releases his straddle on me, and notes with a wiry chuckle of how Superman and Lois Lane the situation is, with the exception being he looking better with highlights and my gender equality issues.
"Tis belle though Rogue, merci Chere" and the sincerity in his voice is almost overwhelming. Stupid psyches, normal girls would blame hormones but no, I got little people in my head messing around.
I lower us back to Earth, and he takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen and I can't help but notice that we've both grown up so much in such a short space of time and I wonder, is it fair? Then he turns to me as he silently pushes the kitchen door with that mischievous glint in his unusual eyes and I realise that maybe we haven't grown up completely after all.
Translations:
Petites – Little ones
Les enfants – The children
Un petite peu – A little bit
Ce soir – This evening
Beau – Handsome
N'est-ce pas? – Isn't that so?
Folle Femme – Madwoman
Belle – Beautiful
A/N : I'm back again with another chapter, a little longer thankfully. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, it ment a lot (Shout outs to Southernlove and lovestoread, you rock my socks!).
Hopefully i'm getting better at this so tell me what you think, reviewers get either a tipsey Remy who'll teach you strip Go Fish or a scared shitless Remy who'll innocently climb all over you ;-)
