Joseph – um whoa, that got more of a reaction then I was really expecting. Actually, I'm trying to include pieces of Xavier's vision in the last episode. That meant including a non-evil Magneto and I kindof always associate that with Joseph, so thus he got included. He won't be a major player however.
As to the suicide statement, I could've gone with forfeit, but I felt that terminology was too card-associated. Considering it a mission or combat situation, he did 'suicide' in a way – he'd have been unconscious and unable to complete it.
Aw, people thought Rogue was an illusion. Nope, this time she was the real deal.
Wisdom from readers:
Kat: "Poor Remy. When he doesn't have her, he tries to imagine that it IS Rogue, and when he has Rogue, he tries NOT to think that it's her. He needs her to want him the way he wants her...and when he thinks she doesn't, he tries in vain to pretend." Hmm, I didn't realize that was so ironic!
Ishandahalf: "I loved his conflicting emotions, simultaneously wanting to apologize for hitting rogue and yet wanting to rage against her. That's the problem, isn't it? That seesawing of emotions, between desire and anger, hurt and yearning, love and hate." Absolutely.
And why did so many think this was the happy ending? There's a reason she showed up then!
Dreamschemer: "Until they can tell each other fully what was going on, how they felt, then they'll just fall into the same old habits." Yes! Ishandahalf and Valerie J, you all noted this. (Oh it ain't over 'til one of them speaks the other three little words BWAHAHAH! -cough-)
Roguerulez, Chica De Los Ojos Cafe (blush! And yes unadulterated is a word…), SkyRogue (LOL seeing your 'will return' messages was so great!), 3t3rnityzAng3l (not discontinued, duo chapters coming out actually soon), Brutal Moonshine (cell phone & long nails, oy!), Danielle Britton, nuriiko, Rogue181, New Moon Night, Stacey, flaming-mod, musariven (that song has been done by so many, I just cited one), Wiccamage (changes yes, but bystanders aren't sure of the causes; -blush-; oh and I was actually referring to a certain someone rather than the city…), mazdamiatta (I love cartoons! John Legend – ooh yeah. We'll see about the practice; was what they were doing before even really practice?), ashez2ashes, thegambit23, ShadowFax999 (lol, ah caught the dumping slip! Hmm, as to the characters you mentioned, well, -wicked grin-), Captain Annie (you're right - thanks for your thoughtful critique), coldqueen, Wanda W (depth is so much fun!), cream tea anyone (I'll have to bring those boxers back at some point – even if he is kinda more of a briefs guy –shudder-), MidniteAngelGoth, ishandahalf (I love subtlety – mostly b/c I suck at it in real life; lol about Kitty and them going at it.)
Best Quotes:
Chica De Los Ojos Cafe – "Their love (even if they won't admit it) makes you believe you can work something out with anyone, even if you want to kill your significant other 99.9 of the time." lol
And this one is so sweet! "You can't help but want it to be real, because after everything these two go through, you want them to be real, real enough to finally feel the joys of love after all the crap they have to put up with to get there."
Lyrics are still from "I (Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight," except for one instance and an Interlude is coming next. -Grin-
It Takes Two...to Practice
14) Gambling's an Addiction
It was a long hot night
She made it easy, she made it feel right
But now it's over, the moment is gone
I followed my hands, not my head
She was gone when he awoke, the cool sheets testament to her early get-away.
It made sense of course.
Practice.
His hand slowly fisted in the clothing pocket of her absence.
So the game was back in play.
Fine, he could do that.
It was too early for further considerations.
He stumbled blearily out of bed, cursing whoever it was that'd convinced Xavier early morning sessions were a good idea. (His bet was on a certain one-eyed boy scout who'd never dream of sleeping in – pansyass.)
He stumbled into Danger Room with more flair, taking head count mentally. All the girls were there, already in a gossiping cluster; the guys were more haphazard – Jamie counted as three; from the way Roberto was panting someone had obviously just dashed in.
He cursed morning sessions more sympathetically this time.
"Bon jour," he greeted the class, immediately sliding into a stretch as a cue for them. Used to routine, the young mutants echoed the greeting and began their own warm-ups.
The practice went smoother than normal, other than the fact the girls gossiped anytime his eyes weren't on them. He wondered what had so snatched their attention. He didn't even get a single flirtatious comment from Boom-Boom.
Something was definitely up.
He let them go early, snagging Jubilee on the way out.
"Thanks G, for the early let-go and not killing us. You've been almost as bad as Wolvie lately," she said, making a snapping noise with her jaw that made him wonder if she was chewing gum. "Guess I should thank some lucky girl for the good mood?" She grinned cheekily and he let his face relax into an easy smirk. Some lucky girl…yeah.
"Guess so," he answered non-committally, deciding to overlook the comparison to Wolverine. "But looks like I'm not de only one in ah good mood-"
She snapped up the bait with all the gusto of a fish with a death wish.
"Oh, I know isn't it, like, so perfect, not that anyone thought that it wasn't gonna happen but guess Apocalypse did shake up Scott and now it's like official-"
"Woah, woah, petite, breat' in between words, d'accord?"
She nodded furiously.
"Now what's dis about de Fearless Leader?"
Jubilee blinked up at him in consternation, her jaw falling open and displaying – yes she had hid gum during practice. "You haven't heard? Scott proposed to Jean last night!"
"Yah were right."
All he could hear were her words and the rushing of blood through the inner parts of his ear.
"Ah missed you."
Yeah fucking right.
He strolled into the kitchen casually, earning more than one interested glance at the fact his shirt was sweat-soaked. Scott started to frown when Gambit turned to him.
"Jus' heard de good news," he said. "Congrats t' you an' Red." Jean, whom Scott was hovering over as she flipped celebration pancakes, smiled widely.
"Why, thank you Remy."
He gestured to her hand and she excitedly thrust out her small diamond. He took her hand in his own, aware of Scott's suspicious glance, and examined the rock expertly.
"Cloud, J, 3/4 carat in Princess cut. Will wonders neva cease; Shades' got good taste."
Jean beamed and Scott relaxed infinitesimally as Gambit released the hand.
He didn't look in her direction, but he knew she hadn't looked up, just paused in stirring her cereal.
"Y' a good fit f' each other," he added. "But y' cou'n't waited anotha month? Lost a bet ova dat…"
Jean giggled and Scott rolled his eyes, unconsciously tightening his grip on her waist. Remy swallowed the bitterness in his throat.
"A bet?" Scott grumbled obliviously.
"Ain't like de whole mansion wasn't expectin' you two t' tie de knot," he shrugged. "I shoul' go showa though. Jus' wanted t' make sure got t' give m' félicitations." He saluted a Salut and left.
He never looked at her.
He paced like a mad man that night, unable to contain his anger, his frustration, his uncertainty.
Would she even come?
Could he even let her?
But when she finally slipped through his exterior door, he said nothing. He stared at her for a full minute, the glitter of her green eyes lost in the darkness, the distance of unspoken things making the air vibrate. But he said nothing.
"He's still an ass and ah'm still a bitch. Ain't nothin' changed."
And his lips were on hers and his fingers dragged up and off her pajamas (no lingerie this time – no need to dress up) and he touched the skin that she shielded from the rest of the world and drew out her lust – and closed his eyes.
And when she left, after they were done, carefully pulling her nightwear and boots on over the ivory flesh he'd just caressed, he silently smoked a cigarette.
I know I was wrong.
It took three days for his powers to return to 'normal.'
He told others it was a hiccup, an anomaly. He looked into Xavier's eyes coolly, but avoided Hank.
He had a theory about it actually, that she'd been unwittingly absorbing some of his energy while they practiced – and his body had compensated. As long as she hadn't been constantly pulling his consciousness, he didn't care. Two weeks before, he would've told Rogue, reassured her he could handle the consequences, delight in how seamlessly their powers interlocked. But now...
He wondered if she had a theory. Did she think it was his emotions sending his powers into a fritz? The idea was unsettling. Or had she too realize the link between it and her powers? How had she been affected by their separation?
But he couldn't ask, not now – and he hated her for giving him a taste before of something he'd never known he'd wanted – and now had taken away.
Godd- my spinning head
Decisions that made my bed
Now I must lay in it
And deal with things I left unsaid
I want to dive into you
Forget what you're going through
I get behind, make your move
Forget about the truth
Maroon 5 "Makes Me Wonder"
Their affair wasn't as he imagined.
Watching her leave, seeing her put back on the layers that would defy him the next day, only to be brought to the floor in the night. He almost wanted to tell her to f- it all and just keep them on for all he cared. Almost. But as they defied him, he still wanted to strip them off one by one yet again; still wanted her with an edge he couldn't deny.
It made him wonder; if he could wrap his hands around that one piece of herself she refused to share - would that satisfy him? Would he then be able to pick up his chips and leave the table?
He was afraid it would.
He was more afraid it wouldn't.
And so he pushed her and plied her, made her beg and plead for his touch, then soothed her with a thoroughness he'd never taken time for in the before time.
He wasn't sure who he was punishing – or indulging.
And she just made it harder to tell.
"Ah didn't choose yah jus' because of yah abilities."
He closed his eyes, telling himself that had never mattered anyway.
And yet…
"Neither did I."
He was talking to her.
It wasn't a secluded conversation, the rec room was hardly an isolated location, but – he was leaning. The white-haired sonofab- was looking at her with innocent eyes and could've been talking about training or something else inane, but he was talking to her alone. Her eyes were wary and her arms protectively crossed in front of her, but she was listening. And the mere sight made his skin crawl.
She finally got tired of whatever he was saying and strolled away, allowing Remy to make his way to his past employer.
He didn't mince words. "Stay away from her."
Magneto looked at him with a faintly amused smile, the mildness that hadn't slipped since his arrival making Remy's fingers burn. "Oh, so now you are a knight-in-shining-armor-" he cocked his head knowingly, "or would that be Robin Hood?"
Remy took the jab stoically. "Who's deluding who, Joseph?
Magneto's face softened, turning inward and distant. And somehow that just made Remy's anger worse. What right did he have to repent? "Yes," he murmured, "we all must have our dreams, mustn't we?"
There was no answer for that and so Remy just repeated himself.
"Jus' leave Rogue alone."
He stood under the spray of the shower, letting the day's grime and tension wash off under the hot pelting. It was probably time for Rogue's appearance, but he merely sunk his head under the water. Let her wait. He had left the door open a crack though, wondering what she would do.
Piotr was early to bed, early to rise kind-of guy, so they'd had few issues sharing the bathroom or even bumping into each other. It was very convenient.
Especially when he felt the air stirring from someone's entrance.
"How 'long yah gonna take Cajun?" Despite her bold approach, he could sense her hesitance.
He took a breath and spun the flow to half-off. He drew the curtain, leaning back against the cold tile, filmed from the heat of his shower. Her gaze automatically flicked down his unashamedly nude body and he nearly smiled at the fact she blushed. Even after all… The next words jumped out of his throat, a challenge he knew was double-edged.
"If y' so impatiente, y' could jus' join me." His hands brushed his thighs and her eyes jumped down, then skittered away. His grin became razor-sharp. "Could jus' consider it practice."
Deep jade meet fire red defiantly and her chin went up. Her fingers, only fumbling slightly, unlaced her shoes, slid down her socks, her pants, slid off her shirt. He settled back further, never taking his eyes off her as she stripped for him. She hesitated for a moment in her bra and underwear and he realized it was the first time he wasn't removing them for her. But she met his eyes again and unclasped her bra, letting it fall forward, accentuating the fullness of her breasts. The underwear only took a little hip shimmy and a single tug.
He swallowed at the surprisingly seductive sight, aware she could tell the effect it had on him.
And in three small steps, she stepped into the shower with him. His head instinctively dipped to just over her neck as he tugged the curtain closed behind her, trapping her against him.
He left the flow at half-off, unable to resist beginning to bathe her body with his lips. She slipped trying to adjust her footing and ended up pushing him against the wall. He didn't protest, just kissed her urgently and delighted in the friction of wet flesh to flesh. Her head tilted up, he could hear her breathy gasps and he nipped at her neck. She nearly slid again as her knees weakened, but he caught her.
"Remy-" she mumbled. "Why the hell ain't y' slippin'?" Her irritation was too languid to be real, but he could read the half-accusation. And – he just responded.
A secret for free.
"I've neva invited a femme inta the shower wit' me."
She looked up at him and in the sliding of her gaze under her sopping white bangs, he could read the question.
So why invite me?
But she didn't ask (they didn't ask questions, not any more) and he slid his hand down her side because he couldn't answer anyway –
"We all must have our dreams, mustn't we?"
And he realized finally it was no longer a game.
On the surface I'm a name on a list
I try to be discreet, but then blow it again
I've lost and found, it's my final mistake
She's loving by proxy, no give and all take
'Cause I've been thrilled to fantasy one too many times
Kitty nearly ran him down in her haste, but he was quick to step to the side. He'd seen her go through people before – and that was just plain disturbing. But she pulled up short, eyes darting and lips almost bloody from her biting on it. He noted the fact with uneasiness.
"Have you seen Rogue?" she shot out.
He blinked, before raising an eyebrow. "De chérie don't 'xactly like ta hang around me."
"Well yeah, but-" Kitty wrung her hands,"It's just she's really upset and I can't find her anywhere. I've seriously checked like every room and there's no bikes or cars missing, so she's got to be around, and Mr. Logan swears that she hasn't left the house but-"
"Woah, du calme petite." He sent out a tendril to calm her, resting a hand on her arm. "What happened?"
Her eyes darted again, but she answered after a moment. "She and Kurt got into a fight."
"Blue boy?" Remy winced internally. Kurt and Rogue were an odd pair, but he'd come to respect the bond of sibling solidarity between the two. Rogue would grumble about him, but he'd never seen Kurt say anything negative about or to Rogue. Given how others had turned on Rogue, he had little doubt a fight between them would devastate Rogue.
Kitty explained in a rush. "Rogue has a practice coming up this weekend and well, she kept canceling them before so Kurt went ahead and made a date with Amanda. Rogue had just assumed he was going to be there and she kindof accused him of being unsupportive. Kurt then accused her of not being really committed to her own practice and-" she paused.
"Well ah'm sorry that ah ain't doin' this ta yah satisfaction. If ain't dealin' the way yah want yah can't jus'-"
Rogue was left groping for the word and Kurt's eyes glittered.
"Vhat? Manipulate you?" Kurt's fury overflowed. "I vouldn't dare; 've seen your reaction to that!"
Kitty bit her lip. "-somehow they got on the subject of Mystique and Rogue – she just stopped arguing." Kitty blinked her eyes to prevent the stem of tears. Rogue had looked like she'd been stabbed, but Kurt's contrition had come too late.
Remy nodded and let her return to her fruitless search.
He didn't bother searching – he didn't have to. When they'd snuck out that night to go to the club, he'd pointed out the roof approach that he used to make his way between his and her room. There was a perfect patch, he told, for late-night stargazing. She'd laughed at his romanticism, but after pointing out how to make the climb, he'd promised to take her up there some time.
He never had.
The climb was nearly instinctual by now and he ignored the bittersweet memories. Sure-footed, he made his way over the roof tiles, glad it hadn't rained lately, especially as there was a nip in the dark evening air already. Ice wouldn't have been fun.
He stepped over the crest of the roof and she was curled there, knees tucked to the crown of her head, her face hidden in the cocoon of her body. He padded over to her.
"Go 'way," she mumbled.
"Can't do dat chérie." His heart squeezed in his chest, wringing out an ounce of compassion yet.
Her shoulders were stiff and he could tell she was holding back sobs. He didn't press her empathetic walls, but sidled next to her. Crouching, he carefully slid out of his coat, swinging it over her thin frame. Still so thin. She let it enfold her.
"Ah," her voice caught. "-ah don't wanna talk about it."
"D'accord."
They sat in silence for a minute as he looked into the darkness, until she shifted in the coat. "Yah gonna get cold."
He shrugged, as her face peeked out at him, still partially obscured by the arm wrapped around her knees.
"I cin heat de air 'round m' body f' a bit, but you- ain't like y' dressed for de cold. Dat skin ain't-"
Her shoulders shook and he froze as she gave a warning liquid hitch of breath. He cursed, feeling her pain bleed.
"Ah-ah," her breath was catching and her body began to rock. "Ah don'-"
"Chere." He was embracing her before he realized he'd moved and then her nose bumped his chin and her lips brushed his throat. And something chilled within him. "Chere?" he breathed.
"Ah," her voice sounded by his ear as she clumsily turned in his embrace, pulling him against her. The coat fluttered off her shoulders unto the angled roof. "Ah don' wanna rememba; ah jus', jus' wanna," she choked but didn't need to say more.
Forget.
He swallowed thickly, letting his bangs flutter over his eyes. Her fingers brushed his waist, drawing him closer. "Dis ain't gonna make it go 'way. Trus' me on dis, chérie."
She gazed up at him, liquid green glittering in the shine of weak moonlight. Another hitch of her breath, the pale of her broken face stark against the darkness.
"Please Remy," she whispered and he, he could deny her nothing.
She moved against him and caught his mouth. And he smoothed the coat and gently laid her down. Her lips were crimson in the night.
He covered her with his body, with every delicate brush, drawing her pain away from her, leaving her clothes on, but venturing below their surfaces, tracing her stomach, the curve of her ribs, her breasts, easing her pants loose and stroking the swell of her hips.
She tucked her head in the crook of his neck, as he gently showered her face with the warmth of his breath and drag of his lips. But when he tasted salt, he had to follow it to its source, laving the evidence of her pain with his touch.
"Rogue."
And she broke to pieces against him, even as he began to ease himself into her.
"Ah, ah don't regret it. Oh God, ah don't regret it. If she was on that cliff again," her voice broke off and he, he didn't know what he wanted but it wasn't this, it wasn't this secret and he kissed her mouth, but she had started and now couldn't stop so easily. "It wasn't her, but if ah thought- Ah'm sorry it hurt Kurt, but-" She began to sob. "She, she made meh open Apocalypse. Ah couldn't, couldn't-" Her body was shaking but he didn't, he couldn't move away, trapped within her. "Remy," she all but begged.
But he couldn't give her absolution.
Nothing but his own scarred hands.
He'd stumbled out of the bar, leaning on an equally-intoxicated chortling Lapin.
Julien had been waiting, with his whole personal crew of 'Rippers.' Remy had been too drunk to appreciate the full gravity – and too confident that Julien wasn't seriously going to try to wreck the peace he was marrying to ensure the next day.
He'd been wrong; but his mutant agility had saved him from the first few thrusts of the ridiculously antiquated sword Julien was wielding. Henri had thrown him the matching weapon and they'd commenced a real fight. He wasn't as good with a sword as Julien's assassin training, but with his unpredictable mutant and alcohol enhanced movements, he managed to hold his own. Until Julien had stumbled and he'd miscalculated and the blood staining his sword and the ground was nothing he'd ever intended.
He'd fallen to his knees, his still muddled mind not comprehending what had just happened. How his future had been destroyed.
He didn't comprehend the yelling that commenced, 'Rippers' taking a step toward while Henri and the other Thieves bitterly blaming Julien for the whole mess.
And he didn't comprehend when the headache that had been plaguing his head for days on-and-off, making his eyes itch as badly as his hands, – the headache he'd been assured had to do with his impending nuptials – made the rest of his narrow world turn to fire.
Julien wasn't the only one to die that night.
"Y' lost control," she breathed, hiding her eyes and it didn't sound like a question. He looked down and wondered with sudden dread just how much of him she'd once absorbed. Could she see the smoldering of that night, feel the bite of acrid alcohol slosh in the back of his throat, smell the burning-
"I got it back," he skipped on. "Got someone t' help me tone down my powers."
He had no intention of telling her who.
So instead, he kissed her hard, trying to lose her, himself in the intensity of the rock of their hips.
There was so much yet to teach her, that was what he had to focus on.
Sex was supposed to be about forgetting, d- it, not remembering; but of course she must torment him.
"Remy," she hissed as she crashed.
Torment him with the taste of secrets, sharing secrets, best left alone, uncared for, unacknowledged.
And yet…
"Amoureux."
The lust for more had ever been his greatest vice.
She marvels at how he gives her everything, yet nothing at the same time.