Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!
Chapter 2: Liquor.
Even when the make-up had faded away from them, her lips remained flushed, in a peachy-reddish color he had kissed over and over again, and that had kissed him back, avidly and thoroughly. To be near that woman, to be able to touch her and merge with her, put him into this sort of intoxication that lingered in him for days.
It was her smooth skin and playful smile.
Her round hips and small waist.
Green eyes and long hair with the white bangs.
The way she made love like there was no tomorrow.
It was, indeed, like being drunk, with her.
She had this tiny birthmark in her ribcage, on the left side, and another one on her right buttock, and…
"…Remy?" his brother's voice dragged him back to reality: "Y' heard one word I said? At least one word?"
Remy gulped down the last sip of bourbon from the glass, then put it back on the bar:
"Oui, oui, ça sera trop facile. We get there, make a distraction, get the thing an' high tail. Piece of cake if y' ask me, no need to go over it hundred times".
Henri LeBeau kept on chewing the toothpick in his mouth:
"D'accord, but y' know this an important gig." Then, he gave Remy a wary look: "What's with y'?"
"What y' mean?" he shrugged.
"I mean y' should be narrowin' down the details of this thing, tellin' me my plan blows an' comin' up with a better one, but instead y've been there not givin' a shit. Allons, c'est quoi ça?"
Remy had never been one to talk about the women he'd been with, with no one, not even (or let alone) with his brother: you know, real men don't kiss and tell. But he needed to get this off of his chest. So he gestured to the barman for another round, and moments later they had two more glasses filled with the liquor of gods.
Somewhere in the background, people were playing pool, and the sound of the pool balls and cues got mixed in the air with country music and indistinct conversations.
"C'est une fille" Remy said at last, shaking his glass slightly and having a look through the amber liquid against the dim light.
"A girl?" Henri chortled: "What about 'er? She playin' hard to get?"
"Funny y' say that, 'cause that's the thing: she ain't. But at the same time… she is".
The other guy's baffled and mocking expression made Remy wonder if he should just shut up; after all, Henri's brain wasn't suited for much more than stealing with half decent skills and eating gumbo all by himself.
"This gonna be a good one. Can y' translate that, s'il te plait?"
"I'll try" Remy took a sip from his drink: "She's gorgeous, man. She a woman y' see and y' can't even believe she's real".
"Alrigth, that part's clear" Henri took out the toothpick and spit on the floor; then, kept on chewing it: "Go on".
"I've seen 'er four, five times only." He counted them inside his mind: the time they met, that other time, and then that other one and… "Oui, five times. Last time was few days ago, on Thursday".
His brother nodded. Then, raised his brows: "So?"
"So…" He wasn't fond of saying these things, but if he didn't talk about it with someone, it'd eat him up: "We've... gone to bed every time".
"Course" Henri chuckled. "Then, what? She's stalking y' like that other girl, the blonde one?"
"Non, au contraire: she just shows up like a bat outta hell, we do it, then she's gone".
Now Henri was completely puzzled: "An' that's a problem?" he laughed with his drunko wacko laugh: "Sorry, but that sound more like bloody heaven to me! Y're livin' the dream!"
"Could be" he took out a package of cigarettes from an inner pocket of his trench coat. "Mais… isn't it weird? She hasn't even given me her phone number, I asked her for it an' she just dodged the question an' said 'Don't worry, I'll call y'".
At the sound of this, Henri laughed even harder, even punching the bar with his fist. Remy just looked away; this is what he got for trusting anything to this dumbass. When the man could finally take his breath back, he spoke:
"Désolé, but y' have just made my day. Remy: ain't this the kind of stuff we always do? Most guys do, anyway? So, let a girl do it, for once, let 'er be free an'… enjoy herself an' get some Cajun lovin', y' know they always come back for more".
"Yeah and I'm sure tante Mattie would call us chauvinist pigs if she heard us right now".
"Bless her" Henri looked up and made the sigh of the cross over his chest.
Remy went back to the actual path of the conversation:
"But, problem is: I do want to know 'er. Talk to 'er, see? We haven't even talked much".
"Wait, wait, wait, wait: y' want to get to know a girl y' already slept with? An' not just to do it again, but just… because?"
"That pretty much sums it all up, yeah. Y' not as stupid as y' make yourself look, Henri".
"Ta gueule" he shook his head: "Now, the big bucks question be: why in the hell?"
Remy took a drag of his cigarette, not even sure about how to respond to that. As usual, maybe the most obvious and easiest answer was the true one:
"I just like her. I just… want to know more about 'er and see her more often, that's another thing: I always gotta wait ages to see her again".
"What y' mean ages? Weeks?"
"I wish, non: months! Three, four, five, I don't even know how many. Always a long wait".
"Maybe she's married" Henri suggested, and when seeing Remy's frown, he continued: "Oui, maybe y're her escape from a boring married life, y' know? Wouldn't be the first time y' bump into that sorta stuff".
"Non, don't think so. She's too young to be married".
"How old she?"
"How would I even know?!" Remy left the glass empty with one last sip: "Told y' I know nothin' 'bout 'er."
"'Cept for her favorite positions, hein?" Henri elbowed him and let out another guffaw.
"I knew this was a bad idea" Remy put out the cigarette on an ashtray there and got up.
"Hey, hey, whoa, y're way too snappish about this".
"Non, y' know what I'll do?" he placed a bill on the bar: "I'll find 'er".
"'kay, y' can go chase 'er, marry her, do whatever y' want, but don't forget our thing tomorrow, 'kay? Let's focus and do this job first and then y' can go and play Romeo if y' want, alright? Alright?"
Remy just nodded, gave a pat on the back to his brother and walked out of there.
"Damn" Henri took his glass and drank some more bourbon: "Who's this guy an' where's the Remy I know at?"
Note: Hi! I had to make Remy talk about this with someone, and since he doesn't know the X-Men, it had to be his brother. I hope it doesn't sound like he's "kissing and telling", you know? That's not my intention, or his. Also, Henri doesn't know Rogue and I tried Remy not to say details or anything. So, let's see what happens next! ;-) Thanks for reading!