A/N: Slight swearing to the end in Rogue's POV, which occurs a few months after Remy's. Sorry for any confusion and in case I missed it out in the first two chapters; I own nothing, I am here only via Marvel's good graces. Yay them.


Chapter 3 – Glares and Stares

Glares

It has been a few weeks since Remy has been at the Institute and thus far, Remy has noticed at least five different glares of ma coquina. There is the You-better-hope-that's-not-the-last-of-the-coffee glare; Remy has been on the receiving end of it once and promptly surrendered my much desired supplement to her because Chere without coffee is assez effrayante.

Remy has seen her say-one-more-like-and-I-Will-hurt-you look when le Chat is excited about a sale at the mall and her do-not-bother-me-or-I-will-make-Logan-look-like-June Ward look at all les enfants save Jubilee.

There is her renowned Danger Room glare bestowed upon anyone who crosses her path before and even during one of Logan's early morning Danger Room Sessions. The ever-popular do-not-speak-to-me-I-am-not-your-friend glare is for more of a show since no one acknowledges it, which only results in her sighing mournfully and adopting une assez mignonne expression. Remy thinks that Chere's facial muscles get the most exercise out compared to all the others.

There is another that Remy noticed only yesterday for the first time, keeping Remy up for the entire night. Not that thoughts of Rogue does not normally keep him up at all hours during the night, the fact that her room is conveniently across from his is merely icing on a delectable cake. Mais, yesterday's look is just sighsdéconcertant.

We were sitting next to each other around the island in the empty chatting and laughing when Kitty phases through the wall and unknowingly interrupts our conversation. The fille is nice and everything but dieu her timing is bad. Not that we were doing anything besides talking, well vraiment it was more along the lines of flirting, meaning mon Chere was actually flirting back. Zut alors!

Remy smiles cordially at le Chat, why be mean to an unexpected fille, non? Mais it looks like chere's not the subtle kind as le Chat is now on the receiving end of one of Rogue's glare. Her eyes are slightly narrowed as one beautifully sculpted eyebrow is casually raised and sa bouche is set.

It is an interesting look and before Remy has have time to process it, it disappears and so does le Chat as she phases through the refrigerator. Remy turns back to his Chere to tease her about her lack of tact when she blindsides him with a small smile on her lips and an impish glint in her eyes.

Remy stares at her dry full lips, her tongue barely darts out to moisten them and Remy finally registers that he has been subconsciously leaning into her personal space. A chance glance at her eyes and he see them focused on his lips and it takes every ounce of self-control he has never had not to steal a taste of ecstasy.

Remy knows that this is one time not to rush things, to take his time and treasure every single laboured breath because not this one, he will not rush it, he cannot. Remy pulls away and something like disappointment flickers across her face before she resumes the conversation from earlier and he cannot find it in his heart to regret his unorthodox decision.

No one else disturbs us for the rest of the evening and Remy once again ponders the meaning of the glare as Remy offers to walk her to her room and she smiles. Remy cannot help but think 'Dieu! I like that.'


Stares

He does not think I notice but I do; he stares at me. When he believes that I am not looking he stares, and I like it. It is silly I know, but I cannot help; he stares and I like it.

Now I am being redundant and I have this ridiculous grin on my face whilst Scott is going on about teamwork or something but I really do not care. He knows better than to comment on any of my violent mood swings anyhow, I think I am probably one flight short of a trip to the Cuckoo's Nest.

I am not stupid, well most of the times anyway; we all have our moments mind you. I know he looks at anything in a skirt and glance at any form in stilettos but there is a difference when compared to actual staring.

The beauty of looking and glancing being that for one thing the boy could appreciate a beautiful thing when he saw it but no longer chased everything with a belle smile. Maybe some good came from the trauma induced by Belladonna. Sniggers, poor traumatized Swamp Rat; at least he is subconsciously 'whipped'.

Staring is much more complicated though. It requires a great deal of stealth, a preconceived excuse and an added distraction for said person under scrutiny. It is, overall, a covert operation of massive proportions when the object of your observations was once a protégé of a renowned mutant terrorist. It is still cute though.

Granted I did not notice initially, this happens to be the Reigning Prince of Thieves, it all comes down to who has the better training; a professional thief or an ex-terrorist in training. For all her horrible anti-maternal qualities, I really am glad for all those years of training in espionage. Over the years, it has allowed me to feel actually useful to the X-Men, even though such knowledge is not highly appreciated; I am a class above the rest of Care Bears, save Logan of course whose likeness to Mystique is alarmingly similar in select ways.

Kurt, whilst he was not raised by Mystique, displays a natural agility, which he no doubt he inherited from his mother. It is, more or less, raw talent to what I have had to work at for years to perfect. There is no animosity between us though, we are brother and sister and we love each other. Our superiority in the Danger Room bonds us and we secretly share smug grins about the irony of the entire situation.

Where have all the hatred for Mystique gone, one may ask? No where, it is still somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind but I no longer dwell on it as I have absorbed her many times and sorting through her memories helps in understanding.

I understand many psychotic mutants thanks to the Professors successful way of sorting and storing psyches. It is exhausting but the end justifies the means, as its resulting reward is one I once believed to be unattainable.

This, Mystique's training, would be the only explanation why the Swamp Rat and I are the best competitors in the Danger Room, again we ignore the presence of the Canadian father figure. Every time there are hand-to-hand fight sequences, employed there is always a different winner, but always either Swamp Rat or me.

I am straying from the point again. He stares at me. Kurt was the first to notice. Unfortunately, he did not bring it to my attention, instead he told Kitty. Kitty did not tell me either, she confided this little piece of information to his Group of Gigglers that fuss over him like a bona fide Calvin Kline model. They shot me death glares to which I was oblivious but they did not tell me either.

I finally heard one evening at dinner when for no apparent reason I looked across at Amara, who was sitting closer to the Senior Staff, wherein I sat at the opposite end, who was whispering something to Tabitha.

Shriek, as only Boom Boom could. "Oh my god you're right, he does stare at her!" to which the table fell silent and a number of senior students and even some staff stared at their plates, only to covertly glance up occasionally at either me or Remy.

Utterly confused I waited until after dinner to corner Kitty in the seniors' quarters, its co-ed mind you, to find out what exactly I missed in that little revelation. When I do drag it out of her, it shocks me to say the least.

Remy? The same guy that I have late night chats with in the Gazebo? The guy that always seems to be around when I need some cheering up? The guy that flirts shamelessly and somehow gets me to do the same? Why would he stare at me? Kitty blesses me with an exasperated look and a strangled sound and waits for realisation to strike me. Well no shit dumb ass, I am so slow sometimes it is such a shame.

So I lied, it took me a houseful of mutants to realise and all my training has shamefully failed me as I once again get completely blindsided by reality. Maybe Logan is right, maybe I do walk around with my head up my ass these days, oh boy.

He still stares though. Whether he knows that I know or he thinks that I do not know that he knows or something equally as complicatedly simple, who really gives a shit? He stares at me and I like it.


Translations

Assez effrayante – Very Scary

Ma coquina – My Rogue

Le Chat – (Pet Name) The Cat

Une assez mignonne – A very cute

Mais – But

Déconcertant – Puzzling

Vraiment– Truly

Zut alors! Damn it!

Sa bouche – Her Mouth


A/N : Hoped you liked, thanks for reviewing ( I swear I met Southernloner, not love in the last chapter lol also thanks to Dorian and Wand W; I'm just winging it with the narration lol and to the latter, I'm glad u enjoy the light-heartedness of this story, I was overdosing on Angst lol ). Reviews are much appreciated as they keep me going and if anyone would like to see an increase in the fluffiness into smuttiness, do say so, as I aim to please. BTW, anyone else notice my love for puns and alliterations lol?

Reviews get a mushy Remy that melts like putty at your smile or a charming thief, hell bent on stealing your heart.