Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men!
Chapter 4: Why?
The darkness felt chaotic. It was spinning and making the back of her mind jolt. But it was good, also. Like going down a slide with a blank mind, letting everything go.
It was good.
Then, she opened her eyes.
It was bright clear outside, so she turned around in her bed, trying to hide away from the light. Her alarm clock claimed it was almost 11 am. With her head and half of her face sank in the chubby pillow, she allowed herself to submerge again in the lunatic memories of the previous night. It made her brain dizzy, only to remember.
It felt good.
She didn't stay to find out how or if Remy managed to make it out alive, from the pack of zombie girls that wanted a piece of his flesh. She didn't say good-bye to Katie, Janie or whatever their names were, either, which she regretted because they had been actually nice to her. She just stood up, made her way through the crowd and went straight to the door, breathing in the night air once she found herself out on the street again.
And when she made it to her bedroom, at around 1 am, and started to take her jacket, earrings and gloves off, her hands were still shaking. Her makeup was in perfect place, though, but the person in the mirror was a mess of shame and euphoria. Maybe it was ridiculous. People do sexual stuff and fuck (for real) everyday in the entire world and that's it. But for Rogue, those moments of breaking every rule about decency, about her powers or being an X-Man, were a ride that had made her knees and soul wobble.
Damn Remy LeBeau, how could he do this to her?
Once in her bed, she had turned around and over a million times, dying of heat, but she couldn't catch sleep until the first hints of light began to hit her window.
Now she was awake. It was a normal little Sunday. Her unusual mission was over. And it was time to face real life again, which included, of course, the fact of living in the same house as him.
She had pushed back this trail of thoughts, but there was no way to hide from it anymore. In this aspect, she still couldn't make up her mind about what was best, simply and mainly, because nothing was the best. Everything was absurd and pretending something different than the crude and flat reality, would be stupid.
So as she took a shower and put some clothes on to go and catch something to eat, she decided she would be as open minded as possible. Did it make any sense to act all embarrassed and offended before the guy that, with your consent, publicly carried you around like a chicken the previous day? Nah. If she had been a grown up about it the moment she decided to lend him her hand, she had to be a grown up about this next, weird day.
(…)
On her way down one of the many hallways of the mansion, she crossed paths with Scott and Jean. Besides them, the place was considerably quiet. She was aware that she could stumble against Remy at any point, which kept her at the edge of her balance. But she made it to the kitchen without a trace of him.
She hadn't noticed she'd been sort of holding her breath, so she exhaled all of the air softly, eyes closed for a couple of seconds.
Ideally, she would be in a defiant and disdainful mood. Actually, her insides were still about to burst.
But she had to oblige things to be as normal as possible, so she took a look inside the microwave oven. Someone had left half a bowl of scrambled eggs in there, so she served herself some. A couple of toasts, peanut butter, hot coffee with milk and she was ready. She placed the items on the counter and climbed up one of those high, metallic chairs.
As soon as she took the first bite, she heard steps behind her back.
Fuck.
After half a second of hesitation, she continued chewing and trying to act like a normal person.
Then, the steps again, until they were close. Very close. Inside the kitchen.
"Mornin' chere."
This guy has some nerve.
She swallowed that piece of toast as fast as she could and then replied: "Mornin'".
She could hear the clatter of dishes and the sound of drawers being opened and closed, orbiting back there. Her eye caught movement on the silver surface of a pot and she could see a distorted Remy there, walking around.
She took a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
He walked around the counter and went to sit right in front of her.
Great.
She kept her eyes on her plate, chewing.
He started to eat as well.
Somewhere on the wall, a clock was ticking. Loudly.
He cleared his throat.
She took a sip of coffee.
He reached for and then held the peanut butter flask.
She could feel his stare traversing her skull.
So she met his eyes.
He wanted peanut butter.
She nodded and looked down again.
He took the peanut butter flask, opened it and spread some on a toast.
Then put it back on the counter.
The damn clock kept on ticking.
She finished off one of the toasts.
He stood up and headed to the fridge, giving his back to her.
She looked up at the ceiling, annoyed by… life, and continued eating.
He came back to the counter with a bottle of juice and two glasses.
She looked at him again.
He offered her orange juice.
She shook her head slightly and again, fixed her eyes in the last crump of toast on the plate.
He poured some juice for himself.
She took the last mouthful of scrambled eggs.
He put the lid back on the bottle.
She glimpsed at him.
He was looking at her.
She looked back at her plate.
A reticent smile made its way to her lips.
She heard him chuckle.
He drank half the content of the glass in one sip.
She took the last sip of coffee.
He was staring at her. All the time, he was.
She jumped down from the stool.
"Chere, wait!"
She couldn't avoid to stupidly look away for an instant, then back at him.
"Wait a second, can y' sit for a moment an'…?"
"'Kay, no, wait, shhh!" she placed both of her index fingers over her mouth, then continued quickly exhaling words: "Yah wait a second LeBeau, don't say anythin', Ah don't wanna hear it, just before yah... say anythin' else, Ah'm gonna say somethin' first, 'kay?"
He seemed half relieved and half resigned but, obediently, he just nodded.
Rogue took a seat again, then pushed away her dish and mug about an inch, for absolutely no reason. She forced herself to look at him: a grey t-shirt, wet hair, stubble. His eyes. The same eyes that the previous night…
"Okay" she repeated, still putting her contradictory thoughts in order. "Ah think what we should do here is… forget 'bout… it an' also not talkin' 'bout it ever again an'…" he was about to say something but she shushed him again: "..an' very important: yah don't mention it to anyone else an' Ah don't either. Your secret's save with me, mah secret's save with yah, end of story, have a good day".
"Wait, Rogue, wait! Sit back down, please, just for a moment".
Damn.
She did.
She could have sworn he swallowed hard before starting:
"D'accord, first off, I don't mind much if people 'round here find out 'bout it or not. Tu sais?"
Rogue stared at him in disbelief.
"Ha?"
"Oui" he continued, leaning forward a little: "'Course Remy ain't gonna say anythin' 'bout y'! Come on, what do y' think I am? But if dey find out or not 'bout me: I could care less".
She nodded.
Then, continued nodding. He started to nod as well with that darn grin on his face.
"'Kay" she simply said, focusing her entire body energy in scaring away her own smile.
"Also, I just retired, I think y' heard dat".
"YES. Ah did."
"Ah, yeah?"
"Yeah."
The whole thing obviously felt a little awkward. But beyond that, it felt strangely… funny? Like they now shared something no one else knew and made them part of some twisted bond.
They stared at each other for another while, alternatively nodding and/or smiling like two idiots.
"All right, Ah have to ask, can Ah?"
"Y' can ask me anythin', cherie!"
"Why do Ah ask yah if Ah can? Ah'll just do it." She placed her elbows on the counter and rested her chin on her crossed over fingers: "Why?"
"Why the Cajun retired from the strppin' business?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, because she knew he just wanted to make things harder: "That too, but mainly, why were yah doin' that, to begin with?"
"Doin' what?"
Unbelievable.
"Oh, Ah don't know, writin' an essay on medieval literature, what do yah think Ah'm talkin' 'bout?"
"All rite, my bad! Couldn't help it". He took a couple of seconds and then started: "Well chere, it a long story". She didn't say anything, just raised her brows. So he continued: "'Kay. See, I grew up in th' thieves' guild, right? An' spent most of my life just workin' for 'em, stealin' I mean. Was 'round 22 when I got into a fight with 'em, my pere, 'twas all a big mess. So I moved out an' had t' make a livin', an' I just didn't want to continue bein' what they'd taught me, I wanted to do somethin' different. Tried a couple of jobs but I guess 9 t' 5 ain't no good for me. Also, money was tight. An' a friend of a friend knew someone who had dis place back in New Awlins, I decided t' give it a try… an' stayed 'bout a year".
She had never heard him talk much about his life before joining the X-Men.
"All right. Then what?"
"Then I went back with the guild for a while, then worked on my own for another while…"
"Worked?"
"Oui, stealin', I mean".
"Oh, 'kay. Thief an' stripper, that's nice".
"Uuh, chere, come on, dat ain't the best word."
"Which one? Thief or stripper?"
"Okay, I deserve that, merci." They were sniggering again: "An' I mean, stripper. I prefer t' call it entertainer".
"Entertainer?"
"Yeah, weren't…" he knew he was stepping on broken glasses with this, but at this point, decided to give it a try anyway: "Weren't y'… entertained last nite?"
Her jaw dropped.
"Pardon, sorry, I had to do it!" He felt tempted to reach for her hands, but stopped himself before things could get worst.
"Yah're gonna torment me with that forever, aren't yah?"
"Non, only if y' keep getting' all blushed… just like y' are now, just like dat".
Rogue wanted to throw the blender at him.
"What happened then?"
"'Kay, goin' back t' the subject, later on I ended up here in New York, was 'round for a while, the opportunity showed up again, so why not? It's good, easy money. Legal, also" he winked.
"Great. I just love your… range of professions." He chuckled, looking down. In Rogue's mind, he looked like a kid for a second. "When was that?"
"'Twas… April I think, so almost six months ago".
"Ah."
"Ah" he echoed, matter of factly.
"An' why did yah quit?" Deep down, she felt she shouldn't seem so interested. But she was interested, so what the hell. After last night, pretending seemed pointless.
"Well I'm an X-Man now, aren't I?"
"Really? That's the reason?"
He pondered this for a moment. "Oui an' non. Guess I just want t' focus on this now, on the superhero part an' all. An' I don't think dat fits very well with half naked dancin'…"
"Nah, no, Ah don't think so".
"Also, it gets old sometimes."
"Really?"
"Except last nite, of course".
"Ah hate yah. An… isn't it weird? T' do all of those… horrible things?"
"Whoa, horrible?!"
"Yeah!"
"All rite, it's time t' say something' here" he leaned even closer and lowered his voice a bit: "Ah don't know if y' noticed cherie, but I went easy on y'".
Rogue rested against the back of the high chair and huffed:
"Are yah serious right now?"
"I'm dead serious! Let me put it dis way: in the part of the show…"
"'Show'" Rogue echoed, making the quotation marks sign with her finger.
"…dat, in dis particular occasion, involved y', I usually take de pants off already…"
"Aggrr!" she covered her ears for a couple of seconds.
"…but I didn't dis time, an' y' have any idea why? Any clue at all?"
"Well no" she retorted, raising her brows and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Ah non?"
"Nope".
"'Cause I respect y'!" He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world and also, like he was some sort of saint for this. "Dat's rite, I do."
"So if Ah get it clear, I pretty much have to thank yah for not shakin' your ass in mah face?"
He had to chuckle at this: "Y' have a way of puttin' things in de worst way possible, y' know? What I mean is: I'd humbly like y' to acknowledge dat I respect an' care 'bout y'. 'Cause y'are not just some girl".
"Oh yeah? Then who am Ah?"
For the first time, he hesitated a little before speaking. "Y'… y' are a lot of things, Roguey. An' if I start, we're gonna be here all day".
She preferred to ignore what he had said that. What did he mean, anyway?
"So…" he continued, filling in the silence: "Y' think dis would be a bad time t' ask y' out?"
"Nah, it's completely normal to ask someone out, especially after a public dry humpin' incident that involved the both of us".
Rogue's heart snapped. Remy, on the other hand, kept his cool. About what? About someone appearing out of nowhere in the kitchen. At Rogue's right side.
"Uh, hello!" Kitty said smiling and looking at the both of them alternatively. She had come right through the wall and cabinets. Had she heard Rogue's last sentence?
"...of them an' that's what… she said in the movie, the girl, the actress said that, hey Kit! What's up?"
"Not much. Which movie is that one?"
"Yeah, I didn't catch de name of it" Remy questioned, faking an innocent look on his face.
Rogue wanted to kill him.
"It's with…" think think think think think think "Jennifer… Aniston, yeah. It's a good movie. Don't remember the name, though".
"Oh! She's really cool".
Kitty headed to the cabinets to get some breakfast for herself, while Remy seemed to be enjoying all of this even more:
"So, tell me chere, in de movie, de girl goes t' dis bar. Why was she dere, in the first place?"
I will kill him.
"'Cause a friend of her had a bachelorette party".
"Is dat rite?"
"Yep."
"An' where did she know dat friend from?"
"They never say that in the movie".
"Oh".
Kitty was going about the kitchen, picking up plates and cutlery and figuring out the instructions on a pancakes dough package.
"Another thing" he continued, after few moments of Rogue soundlessly and clearly pronouncing the words I will kill you to him: "I'm just rememberin' now, damn, must be somethin' wrong with my memory t'day! I think I saw some pieces of dat movie. Doesn't he, the guy, ask her out in de end? Again?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. Isn't this guy clever?
"He does, yeah".
"Ah, oui? An' what does she say?"
After living in the same house for a month (which is not much, really, but you don't get to live with people you don't know, as a general rule, right?); after watching Madagascar together the other night and practicing Rogue's dodging skills as he tossed charged cards at her, at Cyclops request; after running into each other in the kitchen almost every day and, damn, after last night… didn't she feel weirdly close to him? Didn't she want to continue with whatever this was, in spite of everything?
She did.
"She says yes".
This surprised him.
"Oui?! Good, I mean, great. When?"
Rogue took a glimpse at Kitty: she was stirring stuff in a bowl and still reading the instructions.
"Mmm, they go out on a… Tuesday".
"Tuesday? All rite, de guy probably wondered why not on Sunday or Monday, but he couldn't complain anyway, 'course! Tuesday's fine, it's perfect. Was 7 pm okay? For them?"
She jumped off from her seat and picked up her dish and mug.
"Sure, as long as everyone stays with their clothes on." She said this in a whisper, but even if she'd said it out loud, Kitty probably wouldn't have paid attention, as focused as she was in pancake making.
"Promised" he grinned, showing his right palm.
Rogue headed to the dishwasher and as she put everything in there, she had to bite her lip not to smile.
END
Note: All right, there you have it. My most embarrassing fic so far, and that says a lot. I really enjoyed writing this final chapter. And again: REVIEWS are much appreciated. Actually, are much needed. In fact, are begged for. Thanks for reading and have a nice week!