MAGNETIC ATTRACTION
Part 7
It had been a hard day for Rogue. Her first class of the day had been harder due to her English literature professor having been caught having an affair with one of the students and subsequently fired with charges pending. The substitute was a much tougher teacher who was determined to make the entire class suffer by insisting on much more advanced course work.
When she'd arrived at her drama class after lunch, she'd found that the professor had already decided they would do a production of Romeo and Juliet, and everyone would be auditioning for the leads whether they wanted to or not.
Rogue's audition, she felt was almost passable compared to the feeble attempts of the others who would have rather opted for something more fun like Grease, or Dirty Dancing. Although she'd did her best just to appease her Professor's faith in her, she wished she'd deliberately bombed at the audition to completely quash her chances of winning the role altogether. Romeo and Juliet's roles required a fair bit of physical contact, and she wasn't sure how she could explain to the professor how she would need to work around this and that kissing scenes and scenes of sexual nature would need to be implied rather than acted out.
It'd make me look like such a diva, Rogue thought as she left the auditorium with her bag over her shoulder and her Romeo and Juliet script rolled up in her hand. She went to the front of the main college building and sat on the steps to wait for Remy to pick her up on his Harley. It was already ten past two, and there was still no sign of him.
Great, he's forgot, she thought woefully as she glanced towards the parking lot seeing that Scott Summers' car was still there. She wondered if it'd be wrong for her to ask Scott to bail her out and give her a ride; she wasn't sure right now she could even face the guy let alone ask him for help following their discussion that morning.
"Remy LeBeau, Ah'm gonna kill you," she uttered to herself as she stood up, pulling her backpack over her shoulder and preparing herself to walk.
Right then, an old Ford mustang pulled up to a skid on the road only a few feet away from where she was standing on the pavement, she stepped back a little, somewhat startled, and then the window rolled down and Remy LeBeau peered out from the black car, a smirk on his face.
"New car?" Rogue raised an eyebrow, noting the dings on it, the slight rust on the right-side door and the crack in the wing-mirror attached to it
"Somethin' like that," Remy got out, "you're driving..."
"Am Ah?" she asked as she moved over to the drivers side to peer into the open door, the inside looked clean enough, although the leather seats had been duct-taped.
He gestured for her to get in and she did so, immediately reaching for the seat-belt to which at the moment, was missing.
"Yeah, I gotta fix that later," Remy said, he shut the door for her.
"That's not very safe," she commented, "Where did you get this?"
"I found it, some guy was gonna scrap it, I paid him a few bucks. It's gonna cost a little to fix it up, but it'll be nice once it's done."
"You're good at fixing up cars?" Rogue asked, she tossed her backpack onto the backseat
"Well, no," said Remy, he climbed into the passengers side, "But Pete is, and believe it or not, so is Lance. They're going to work on it a little..."
Rogue nodded, she reached for the ignition and turned the key, it took a few turns before the engine spluttered back to life. "It's a little, uh-"
"Yeah, it's not in the best shape, but I swear, it'll be awesome once it's fixed. Trust me..." he smirked. "You mind if I smoke?" he asked.
Rogue thought it odd that he should ask this in his own car, so she shrugged and replied, "do whatever you want, Ah'm not your boss."
"It's just some people get funny about this whole second-hand smoke thing," he explained as he took a cigarette out, and lit it with the lighter on the dash.
"Ever thought about quitting?" Rogue asked casually as she checked the rear view mirror before pulling the car away from the college pavement and heading to the main road.
"Ain't got much reason to quit," he confessed casually as he took his first drag, he exhaled, "besides. I figure I'm gonna probably die young in some fight or something, why bother bein' a boy scout?"
"Ah guess you have a point," confessed Rogue. She didn't like to think of it, but a boy as young and somewhat reckless as Remy LeBeau was sure to live a relatively short life.
On the road, the car handled great despite a few minor issues with the stick, which Remy kept reiterating he would fix. Rogue loved the feeling of driving on the open road, liked the music from the local station on the radio
"So..." he said when they were on the lone road leading up to the warehouse, "what you think of the car, chere?"
"It's okay," she shrugged, "it needs work but, yeah, it's cool."
Rogue would never understand what it was that he was thinking exactly when he reached across and placed his hand on her thigh, squeezed gently and stated in a honeyed tone, "it's yours."
She thrust her foot down upon the brake, and the car shrieked in protest, a horrible sound that went right through her entire body right to her teeth. She snapped her head around to stare at him in disbelief, "excuse me?"
"It's yours," he repeated, "this car is for you."
"Ah'm confused," Rogue stated; her eyes fell to his bare hand which was sitting against her thigh, barely an inch away from the hem of her black skirt. If her tights had been even a fraction thinner, she wondered if he'd still be conscious. "And why do you have your hand on my knee?" she demanded, suddenly quite irritated by this.
Remy glanced towards her leg, then slowly removed his hand, "Just a force of habit," he replied. "Didn't mean anythin' by it, I promise."
"Why would you buy me a car?"
"Why not?"
"No one just gives away a car without a reason. Especially not to someone who's practically a stranger," Rogue pointed out.
"We're not exactly strangers," Remy responded, "And anyway...It ain't like it was expensive. It was practically in the scrap heap," he shrugged, he took a drag from his cigarette before throwing it out of the open window.
"Ah can't accept this," Rogue shook her head. "Ah mean, it's nice of you but-"
"Yes, you can accept it, and you will. Just take it."
She stared blankly at the wheel, trying to make sense of all this. She didn't trust the hand out, and suddenly she didn't trust him. Why was he being so nice? Her past experience of him told her that he only did these kinds of things when he had something to gain from it. "You have an ulterior motive, don't you?" she asked, she turned to look at him suspicously.
He gave a soft laugh, "Actually, yes. I don't want my ass dragged out of bed every goddamn morning just to take you to school."
"That's all this is about?" Rogue asked, still suspicious.
"Yes," Remy replied.
"It's still too good to be true," she remarked.
"Not really," Remy admitted, "it's a piece of crap, it's barely running. It needs a hell of a lot of fixing up and that's going to cost...you'll pay for the parts. And of course, you'll need to insure it, and pay for gas."
"Ah guess it isn't all that too good to be true, then," she confessed.
"Now...get us home."
Rogue drew her breath as she started the car once again; it was still hard to think of the warehouse as home.
The remainder of their journey was in silence; Rogue spent the time reflecting about how she was going to pay for all this on whatever Magneto's allowance would be, plus her other expenses. She pondered if maybe she really would need to get a part time job just to accommodate everything. Every now and then, she would glance towards Remy who was sitting comfortably, one arm propped on the door, window fully open, the wind shifting his shiny brown hair around. She still didn't completely trust him, but for now she was willing to let the issue with the car slide because she really didn't want to give up going to college just because it was too far to walk. Everything since Friday morning had been far too good to be true, from Magneto's agreeing to help her, Logan and the Professor both willing to let her leave to join the Acolytes, and Remy's agreeing to switch rooms with her.
Ah thought it was going to suck when Ah left but it's all been...actually liveable, good things have been happening, Rogue thought. Part of her felt her decision to leave had been the right one after all while the other part of her still said that things being too good right now were a sign that there had to be a catch somewhere. Something bad had to happen, it was how balance worked. Good things just didn't continue to happen to someone without something bad lined up to follow, it was the law of averages. Something was going to happen sooner or later.
The gates to the warehouse were already open as Rogue pulled the car along the drive, and she parked the Ford Mustang next to Piotr's white transit. She sat there for a moment thinking about how significant the moment probably should be. After all, this would be her first car. The first thing that was really hers, her first real responsibility.
"Something wrong?" asked Remy as he reached over to grab her backpack from the back seat. He got out first and moved around the car to open the driver's side door for her, which was slightly stiff and needing oiled.
"Just thinking about how Ah'm gonna pay for insurance," she lied as she climbed out.
"You'll think of something," Remy handed her the backpack, and closed the door after her; he put his hand on her back gently to guide her towards the doors.
Flinching back, she frowned, "careful, okay? You know what could happen."
"I'm not scared of your powers, Chere," Remy smirked, "besides. I like a little danger..." he pushed the left side door open and waited for her to step in first.
The moment they entered the warehouse, a strong smell hit them both. Rogue wasn't incredibly familiar with the smell, but Remy seemed to instantly recognise it, because he muttered something in French before he took off towards the stairs to go up to the living room area. Rogue ran after him, noting a very unhappy look had crossed his face.
Rogue hadn't expected to find Pietro Maximoff and Lance Alvers there smoking from what certainly looked to be a make-shift bong comprised from an old cola can and a hollowed out biro. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of what she now realised was some pretty potent pot.
"Seriously," Remy leaned against the rail, frowning, "Magneto isn't out of the place one day, and already you're smoking weed in his crib."
Pietro glanced up lazily, he was stretched out on the old couch, dirty sneakers hanging off the left arm. Lance was sitting folded legged on the floor with the poorly constructed bomb, coughing, a vague expression on his face, his eyes pink and glassy.
"Put that shit out," Remy instructed, "you know the rules. No drugs, no alcohol," he gestured to the empty beer cans strewn across the floor.
"He'll never know," retorted Pietro.
"You think so, huh?" asked Remy.
Rogue chewed her lip, wondering if she should just slip by and go straight to her room.
"You gonna run to my dad? Complain about what bad boys we are?" demanded Pietro. "You're such a suck up."
Lance began laughing hysterically, as if he thought what Pietro had said to be quite hilarious.
"You know what," said Remy, grabbing the home-made bong from Lance's hand and heading down the stairs, bypassing Rogue in the process, "whatever you do in this place during my watch puts my head on the chopping block."
"Hey, what the fuck!?" demanded Lance. Both he, and Pietro, got up and began chasing Remy. Rogue decided to follow, feeling somewhat compelled just in case it should turn into a physical brawl.
Remy fumed, "You want to smoke that crap, you do it elsewhere. There's a rule here that you don't shit where you eat..." the home-made bong began to glow in his hand as he began to use his powers to charge it up; he tugged the door open with his free hand and stepped outside.
"Gambit, don't do that!" warned Pietro; he tried to use his powers but the effects of the drug plus a few beers in his system affected his judgement, and instead of managing to stop Remy from throwing the can, all he managed to do was bump into Remy's motorcycle, and then tumble clumsily to the ground.
The can sailed a considerable distance way over the fenced wall. As it impacted with the field beyond, there was a terrific boom and an explosion of dirt, some of which, sprinkled across the wall and over the tarmac in the yard.
"Now get upstairs and clean that mess you left up," Remy nudged Pietro's leg with his foot, "and after that, spray the place with Febreeze or something. If Magneto comes back early, you'll know all about it."
Rogue followed Remy back into the warehouse. She could see that his face was red and there was a thin vein at his left temple which seemed to be throbbing.
"Are you okay?" Rogue asked.
"You know...whatever they do...it gets all put down to my leadership. Magneto isn't going to just accept that they do whatever they want. He doesn't agree with drugs or drink...if he saw this...he'd flip his shit...demand why it was I couldn't hold the fort for two minutes."
"And you actually care what he thinks?" asked Rogue, raising an eyebrow. She thought it odd that he would care, seeing as how he'd never cared about what people thought of him before. "You've never cared about what people thought about you or how you handle things..."
"I'm not like you, Rogue. I don't have a home to go back to if everything goes south," Remy pointed out sounding vaguely upset.
"What...what do you mean? What about Jean-Luc?" she blinked, slightly taken aback by the revelation.
"The bum threw me out, okay? I got nowhere else to go now. This is it for me. If I fuck up here, I have nowhere to go."
"What happened?" Rogue asked.
"Does it matter?" he asked, his voice slightly high. "All that matters is if they fuck this up for me, I'm screwed."
Rogue thought about suggesting he could always fall back on the X-Men, regardless of past issues. She held her tongue, positive the mention would only cause him more frustration. "Just calm down, okay?" Rogue pleaded softly, "go...Ah don't know...smoke a cigarette or something."
Remy sighed, "I'm sorry..." he apologised looking away from her, "I didn't mean to sound so...whiny. It's not my style. It's just...this whole thing has me stressed."
Tenderly, Rogue reached up to place a hand on his shoulder, she said nothing, but offered him an understanding smile.
He seemed to calm down, and nodded, "okay, I'm over it," he assured. "You should go do your homework or study or whatever it is you need to do."
"Actually," said Rogue, "Ah think Ah could use a work out. It always takes the edge off of a stressful day," she explained, "come on," she gestured, "lets spar."
Remy wasn't sure why he was letting this new leadership situation stress him out so much. He'd always been able to adjust and adapt, always been able to keep his cool, but right now, all he felt like doing was freaking out. He wished he hadn't vented to Rogue in the way he had either, it felt too close to the bone, he didn't like revealing that he felt helpless, that he had nowhere to go should this all fail. If he'd been able to take back the entire conversation, he would have.
I shouldn't have ever said anything, thought Remy dully. She doesn't need to know why I can't go back home again. I should have never opened up.
He hated that this was the difference between Rogue and the others here. There was something about Rogue that made him want to open up. He felt different around her, more relaxed, and at times...it became inexplicably hard to keep things to himself when he was with her.
We just have a lot in common, that's all. It makes it easier to relate, he told himself.
At least Rogue's suggestion that they spar had been helpful. They'd gone out into the field just outside of the woods and for the next few hours, they worked out, and sparred, shared tips, and tried to wrestle each other down.
Rogue's training with Logan had been quite formal, and she was exceptionally good and hard to take down. However, his informal and unpredictable training made him impossible for her to compete with. Remy had always been able to learn from his previous mistakes, and having fought Rogue before more than once, he'd been able to adapt what he expected of her so that she found it more difficult to take him down.
After two hours, even with his helpful suggestions, she was still unable to pin him, and so, sweaty and gasping for breath, they ended their session, and decided to lay out on the cold slightly damp grass. The sky had gone quite grey and the air had a bitter chill to it which helped to cool them both down considerably.
"That's the best work out I've had in a while," Remy admitted, taking a deep breath, his body heavy with exhaustion, the shifting of the grass in the wind tickled his neck.
"You've gotten better," Rogue confessed after a moment. She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her brow.
"Always tryin' to adapt," he admitted.
"You memorize my moves, don't you?" Rogue turned to look at him, she put her hands behind her head.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Every time Ah think to try somethin' twice on you, you seem to know it's coming," Rogue admitted.
"You do tend to go the reliable route. Not that you aren't good. You're incredible. I had a hard time fighting you off," he confessed honestly, he turned to look back at her, his eyes met with hers, and he noticed the way her eyes seemed to match the colour of the pale slightly damp grass. There was something there just beyond her eyes that spoke of a sadness she'd always fought to try and hide, but never could. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Just...thinking," Rogue sighed, she stared up at the grey sky. "Ah ran into Scott and Jean today. And Scott is still...super pissed at me."
"He was?" Remy folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the sky too.
"Jean says he feels...hurt."
"I'm sorry," Remy replied.
Rogue frowned a little, "you are? Why?"
"Well...I know you liked him. Actually I know you much more than just liked him."
"He was a friend, that's all. Nothing more than that," Rogue sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. "It could never be anything more than that."
"It's gonna sound weird, but sometimes it's better just being friends," he admitted, believing this.
Rogue snorted, "seriously? Doesn't sound like something you'd say."
He leaned on his side, propping his head on one hand, "When you got two people who get along, it's great. And then that first few times on the physical side...it's incredible. But it goes south rather fast, and you just forget everything that you liked about that person before you ever fucked them. Sometimes, it's better never goin' past the friend zone."
"Maybe some day Ah'll learn that for myself," she responded, sounding somewhat hopeful.
Remy sat up too, he let his arms rest on his knees, "I hope you find whatever it is you're lookin' for, Rogue. I just hope it doesn't cost you more than you can afford to give."
Rogue turned to stare at him, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and hurt. She seemed to be trying to read him, but he was a closed book, or at least he was trying to be.
"I've screwed around enough out here for one day, I need to get back inside and make sure that those two have sobered up and cleaned up that mess they had left," Remy stood up and brushed the dead grass away from himself. "I'm sure you got homework and stuff to do," he added.
"Yeah..."
He reached down to help her up and she took his hand and pulled herself up with his help. "Thanks for the sparring. It was exactly what I needed," he lifted her gloved hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckle; with that, he let her leave, noting the almost embarrassed way she looked over her shoulder at him as she went.
When he returned to the living area, Pietro and Lance had both gone. Remy wondered if they'd gone off to buy more beer or weed, or if they'd just gone into hiding to avoid being yelled at more. Either way, he was glad that they were out of his sight for the time being; he wasn't in the mood for a second round with either.
Wanda was there in the living room, however, picking up the cans and tossing them into a garbage back, mumbling about always having to pick up her brother's mess. Remy noted that although the smell of weed was still somewhat strong in the air, there was an also quite obvious bitter smell that was oddly familiar.
"Who puked?" Remy asked in disgust.
Wanda stopped what she was doing, the trash bag dangling from her fingers, "they both did. And I got left to clean up the mess as they went off to bed to sleep it off," she muttered. "Where did they even get the beer?"
"I guess one of them found a fake I.D.," Remy responded, he moved over to help her pick up the remainder of the trash, a few more cans, some candy wrappers and some scattered potato chips were all that was left. Wanda had cleaned up the vomit fairly well judging by the cleanly scrubbed wet patches on the old rug and the sofa. "I told them to clean this up a few hours ago."
"Yeah, well they didn't. They just smoked a joint and drank more beer."
"They'll pay for it tomorrow," Remy responded, "if the hangover doesn't kick their asses, I will."
"Where have you been, anyway?" Wanda asked as she handed him the trash bag.
"I was training with Rogue."
He caught the brief look of anger on Wanda's face. The television – which was set on a music station – flickered on and off and the signal faltered. The strip lighting above flashed on and off.
"You're spending a hell of a lot of time with her," Wanda remarked, her tone mean and sharp, the kind of voice that would cut through steel.
"I'm trying to be a good leader," Remy replied.
"By spending every waking moment with her? I saw what you did to your bedroom. You swapped it with hers. And made it the nicest bedroom in the place. How come you never did that for me?"
"Jesus, do we really have to have this conversation? I'm kind of beat," Remy dropped the trash bag on the end of the couch. "I never did that for you because your room is actually one of the better rooms in this place. It's actually the biggest room other than the Boss's. You want your room painted, then go and paint it. I'm not stopping you, Wanda."
"I see, so you're quite willing to go paint her room, but not mine."
"Your father said be accommodating."
"You're being more than accommodating, Gambit. You're going out of your way to be nice. Which isn't you. The only time you ever want to be nice to any girl is if you think you're gonna get laid."
Remy rolled his eyes at her jealousy.
"And that's never going to happen with her."
"I don't think of her that way," Remy responded, "and even if I did..." he pointed a finger warningly at Wanda, about to remind her that they weren't even technically dating.
"I don't trust her," Wanda interrupted, while folding her arms stubbornly, "I think she's going to back stab us all."
"She probably thinks the same about us," Remy responded, feeling slightly irritated about being interrupted. "Doesn't matter if you, or I, or anyone here don't trust her. The boss obviously does enough to take her on board. And he's put me in charge of making sure that's happy here."
"Why? Why should it matter if she's happy or not?" demanded Wanda, she spotted a beer can tucked halfway beneath the only recliner and she dragged it out and tossed it into the can angrily. "He never cared if Pietro or I are happy."
Remy frowned, he pushed her shoulder and backed her into the wall, squinting his eyes at her, "You don't get it, do you? Rogue might be the most dangerous person in this place, other than your father. You really want to make enemies with a girl who can absorb every single part of you with a single touch?" he demanded.
Wanda's eyes shifted to the floor, her lips pursed tightly in anger.
"Well?"
"She doesn't scare me," Wanda responded.
"All the same, just do what I tell you to do. I'm the leader, and if I say be nice to Rogue, be nice to her. You don't have to love her, just be civil," he responded.
"Fine, whatever," Wanda reached up and toyed with the collar of his trenchcoat, "how come you didn't come to my room last night after I'd asked you to?" she changed the subject rather quickly.
"I was tired," Remy replied honestly. He'd been tired the night before; he and Piotr had gone into planning the new gymnasium and the training area in detail well into midnight, he'd forgotten about any arrangements or requests and had simply gone to bed. "I could barely stay awake. I'd been up since four after all. I was out cold before my head even hit the pillow."
Wanda pulled him a little closer, her lips nearly grazing his, "Well...I want you to come to my room tonight," she said, keeping her voice low.
Remy thought this over. He was already physically and mentally exhausted more than he was sure he'd ever been and Wanda's demands weren't helping. "Can't we just do this another time? I'm exhausted."
"You weren't exhausted when you were sparring with your new friend," Wanda folded her arms, the lights flickered once again.
"Well I wasn't completely exhausted when I started, obviously," he pointed out, he searched her eyes, he could see she was getting hostile, he knew how to read her like a book.
"Does she know that you're seeing me?" Wanda asked, she seemed to be determined to get a rise out of him.
Remy couldn't explain why it was that his stomach flipped just a little. Was it that he didn't want Rogue knowing how he spent his free time? Or was it that Wanda had said 'seeing' as if it meant a lot more than just casual screwing. Momentarily, he thought about reminding her that this was just sex and nothing more, but she already had that dangerous look in her beautiful blue eyes which told him to choose the time to say that very carefully. Now was not the time.
"I ain't told her. None of her business," Remy reminded with a shrug, "ain't no one's business but our own."
"But you wouldn't want her knowing," Wanda said knowingly, her she chewed her lip seductively.
"Tell her if you want," Remy frowned, "but just remember, anything she knows could get back to your dad."
Wanda's face went pale, just enough to to convince Remy he'd said the right thing.
"And fine," he said, "I'll come to your room tonight, but I'm tired. You're doin' all the work."
"Yeah, what else is new?" she teased, she leaned up and pecked his lips.
Remy left her to go to down to his basement room; he had a lot to do but it would have to be put on hold for a few hours, as it seemed that he was going to now need a nap to endure it all.
End of Part Seven
Thanks to everyone who has so far posted reviews on the story. I'm glad already that so many are enjoying the story, especially since (as far as a lot are concerned) the characters are a little out of character in general. I'm also pleased so many are more accepting of the Remy/Wanda relationship than I thought they would be, lol. I thought people would seriously be up in arms about it, haha. Anyway, hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. Thanks again, love you all :)