Remy's Diabolical Plan
Chapter Two: Diabolical Undergarments
~X~
Rogue took a deep, unsteady breath. Chewing her lip, she fought for control over her mind. So many thoughts raced through it, all of them giving her different scenarios, different escape plans, and all new ways to break out of this mess. But every time she thought that maybe she had figured it out, her mind brought her back to one ending.
She was going to die. One wrong move and she was dead.
Ok, so maybe dead was stretching it a bit. But if she made the wrong move right in this critical moment she would almost certainly be subjected to painful, horrible, excruciating, unbearable…teasing. And that was something that she was not willing to give in to. She would NOT let her friends conquer over her in this game of Clue. No! She had never won the game of Clue and she was determined to win it now. Remy's turn came after her and she was certain that he knew the answer. He knew who had committed the murder, and with what weapon, and in which room. And Rogue couldn't let him win. She refused to. She was only ninety five percent sure that her answer was correct, but her turn came before his and she wanted to win so she had made a random guess.
Now she held the envelope with the answer inside. She could open it now, look at the answer…and if she got it wrong, then she lost and the game would keep going without her and then Remy would almost certainly win. But if she got it right, she won and could rub it in everyone's faces. She had to think over her answer and she had to make sure it was right.
Glancing down at her paper of 'clues', Rogue knew that the person that had committed the murder was most certainly Colonel Mustard. Of course it was Colonel Mustard. He was creepy and old and his name was Mustard. If you were unfortunate enough to have a name like that then you probably would end up being a killer. The weapon he used was the candlestick, because hey, people use candlesticks to murder people with all the time. Whenever you wanted to kill someone there was always that oddly and conveniently placed candlestick just sitting around.
But what Rogue was most unsure about was the room. What room did Colonel Mustard commit his murder in? There were two choices. It was either the dining room or the lounge. The little picture on the board of the lounge looked so comfy and warm to Rogue that she couldn't imagine anyone wanting to murder in there. If they did, they would get blood all over those pretty curtains and the carpet and that would just be too hard to clean. The dining room also seemed like an unlikely place, because that was gross. Who would want to eat in there after doing something like that? If you were planning on murdering someone, you should at least do it where you weren't going to eat later.
Both seemed like bad places to kill someone and personally, if Rogue had been Colonel Mustard, she would have chosen to do it in the conservatory. Mostly because that just seemed like the place that no one would be walking into all the time. It wasn't like they were all going to jump up and say, 'Hey! Let's all go hang out in the conservatory!' Unless, of course, they grew some marijuana in there. Then, maybe, Rogue could see why everyone would be racing to get in there…not that she was into that sort of thing.
So without being absolutely sure, Rogue had made a random guess and said that Colonel Mustard did it with the candlestick in the lounge. And…now her mind was reeling in the perverted pictures she had inadvertently put there.
Rogue blinked as these thoughts flew through her head. She knew perfectly well that if she voiced that last series of thoughts out loud that she could make Kitty choke on that milk she was sipping. Though the thought was entertaining, Rogue held back since she was sitting next to Kurt, and would probably spit it all over him. Next to Kurt sat Amara and next to her was Remy. Remy was next to Rogue, looking at her like he had already won the game. But she refused to back down because she was getting that look. He was only trying to intimidate her and she wasn't going to let him.
He stared long and hard at her, causing her cheeks to flush pink at the intensity of it. Quickly she let her hair fall down over her face as she determinedly kept her gaze from locking with his. She was not going to chicken out because Remy was giving her what he had once described to her as his 'bedroom eyes'. At the time Rogue had no idea what the hell he had been talking about. Now she understood a little bit. Because if he had looked at her like that when they were...in the bedroom…she might have just melted through the floor. Not that she ever thought of Remy in the bedroom. But that look made her skin tingle annoyingly, though she wasn't sure why. She supposed it was because of the new detergent she had started using in her laundry. Or maybe it was because she forgot to use fabric softener. Yes, it was probably one of those two things.
"Rogue, are you, like, ever going to answer?" Kitty finally snapped, breaking Rogue's thoughts away from Remy's bedroom eyes.
Though Kitty's tone held a bit of rudeness to it, the kind of rudeness that Rogue would usually snap back at, but the Southerner didn't even notice. She continued to stare at the little envelope in her hand, internally battling her own thoughts.
"Mhmm," she said in response to Kitty. "Ok, I guess that Colonel Mustard did it in the lounge with the candlestick…I mean," she faltered, the pink on her face quickly turning red, "he did it with the candlestick in the…ah! I MEAN…oh forget it." Finally, she slowly slipped her fingers into the envelope.
Maybe Rogue imagined it, or maybe it was really there. But a certain kind of strained tension hung in the air as she slowly pulled out the cards. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion except for her pulse, which was racing madly in anticipation. Unconsciously, she held her breath and slowly, slowly, slower still, turned the cards over.
"AHA!" She yelled triumphantly, standing up and waving the cards over her head. "I win! I win! Colonel Mustard did it with the—I mean, I WIN!"
Kitty grumbled and stood up to leave, giving out begrudging congratulations. Kurt just sat there, and Amara clapped politely along with Remy.
Rogue was having too much fun basking in the glory of winning a simple board game. She chased Kitty with the cards that proved she had won, and Kitty, being a sore loser, was stomping away, phasing through walls and tables to get away from her. Kurt was sighing and putting the game back in its box and Amara was standing to stretch. Remy was (of course) watching Rogue and thinking of his devious plan, but was snapped back to reality when a loud clap of thunder sounded outside.
It was summer, and so far had been hot and dry. But the weather man had promised rain and high humidity for the next few days. Rogue had just graduated from high school a week before and was enjoying the summer break before she…well, she wasn't sure what she was going to do. But for the time being all she wanted was to sit and relax (as much as one can relax when part of the X-men) and enjoy the summer. Kitty was still complaining daily that she wouldn't have anyone at the school that she knew next year (which earned her looks from Kurt and Amara who were both still in school) and then alternated to staring at Remy. Rogue was pretty sure that Kitty must have a crush on Remy and wondered if he knew. She kept thinking that if he didn't know, then it would be very weird since Kitty was always openly staring at him.
Because of this, Rogue thought Remy was kind of blind for not noticing that Kitty obviously had thing for him. Meanwhile, Kitty thought Rogue was quite daft not to have any idea that Remy liked her.
Everything else in the X-mansion was normal as always…as normal as a mansion full of mutants can be. Logan was always grouching, Storm was always storming, Charles was gliding along in his wheelchair being bald, Beast was off being smart and reading, Scott was about to start training to become a police officer, Jean was looking for a job, Kurt and Amara were being kids and having fun with the summer break, Bobby and most of the younger students had gone home to their parents for the summer, and no one even wanted to know what Tabitha was doing all day up in her room with the door closed.
Yes, everything was completely normal. There were two training sessions a day; one in the morning and then one before dinner. Every now and then they would have to run off because either the brotherhood or some other fiend was off terrorizing the city. They would go out, kick butt, and then come back home to unwind.
And as normal as everything was…Charles was going completely insane. The noise level in the house was spectacularly ear splitting and no one seemed to notice but him and an always grumpy Logan. Though Charles couldn't tell whether Logan was grumpy because of the noise or because…he was Logan.
But the noise was driving Charles crazy. His head was constantly pounding both because of the noise ringing through his ears and rattling his very brain, and because of his terrible habit of grinding his teeth together when he became agitated. He really needed to stop that habit. His dentist had warned him one too many times already and it was starting to cause him some serious problems.
And then one day—thankfully—his phone rang. He was nearly at his wits end and he was about to break. At that point in time, Charles would have done anything to ease the constant pounding in his head and so when the phone rang, and he found himself speaking to an old friend who needed a favor, Charles was only too happy to oblige.
Anything to get the kids out of the house.
He wasn't sure why his patience had suddenly run thin. He had always been able to handle the noise just fine. But he was perfectly willing to chalk it all up to age, and because he was stressed and had no hair left to pull out.
Downstairs, Rogue finally became bored of chasing Kitty and came back to plop down in her seat at the kitchen table next to Remy. Kurt, who was now sitting on the counter, had found an orange and was currently peeling it. Amara was yawning and looking out the window at the dark gray clouds overhead. Kitty was stomping back into the kitchen, looking worn and grumbling about something that sounded suspiciously like 'overzealous winners'.
It was just as Kurt had his mouth full of orange, Kitty was sitting down at the table and glaring at Rogue, Rogue was looking very smugly over at Kitty, Remy was thinking of evil plans, and Amara was hoping that no one would smell the silent fart she had just let loose, that Charles entered the room. He was followed by Jean and Scott and naturally, Scott looked all business and had his serious face on.
"Everyone…" Charles greeted them politely and was met with a few acknowledging grunts and another silent fart. "I have something to tell you all."
Everyone turned to him, waiting for him to continue.
"First of all," Charles started, "I want to say thank you. Thank you for giving your all to this team and thank you for the work, time, and heart you have all put forth. You have all turned into exceptional young men and women and I couldn't be more proud."
"Well that's all your fault, Professor," Amara said as she discreetly waved a hand behind her back. "You're too good of an influence on us."
Charles smiled lightly at the compliment and tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Even so, I think you have all earned this."
Everyone immediately perked up at once, suddenly eager to hear what he had to say.
"What do you…" Remy started before he sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"
Amara tried to look innocent. "I think its Kurt's orange…"
"Some of you may not know this," Charles continued as if there hadn't been any interruption, "but I own a few other houses other than this one…I own one on the beach…"
"Beach trip!" Kitty and Kurt yelled at the same time and both jumped to their feet.
"Really, Professor?" Rogue asked. "Are we goin' to the beach?"
Charles held up a hand to calm them. "Just…wait a moment, let me explain."
Kitty and Kurt's shoulders both slumped at the same time and Kitty turned to sit back down heavily in her seat while Kurt went back to the counter.
"Oh, so no beach trip?" Kitty asked, sounding very forlorn.
Charles sighed. "Yes, there is going to be a beach trip-"
"YAY!" Kitty jumped back to her feet again and pumped her fists in the air. "Bronze tan, here I come!"
"You mean hot beach babes," Kurt grinned as he too, came back to his feet.
"NO, Kurt," Kitty shook her head, "hot beach guys," she said dreamily and for a moment looked like she was about to start drooling.
"I think I'll just go for the babes," Kurt replied.
"Well you'll be missing out," Kitty said in a warning tone, "because shirtless guys on the beach offering to rub tanning oil on your back are always good fun."
Closing his eyes, Charles pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight off an oncoming headache. See, this was exactly why he had to make them leave. For the love of all that was good and holy, he NEEDED some peace and quiet! He hadn't even been able to get the whole story out before Kitty and Kurt had started up.
"I think I'll pass," Kurt shot at Kitty. "For some reason, some strange, sweaty, hairy beast man covered in warts and wanting to rub oil on my back just doesn't sound appealing."
Glaring now, Kitty propped a hand on her hip and sighed in exasperation. "Kurt, they are not covered in warts! And even if they were, I wouldn't let them near me when they had warts all over them! Besides," she crossed her arms over her chest, "that would be better than some half naked girl with a bosom the size of the Titanic and a bad dye job asking you to rub oil on her back!"
Kurt stared. "Ok, if you find a girl with a bosom the size of the Titanic, you let me know." He said this in a very serious tone. "And give her my number while you're at it."
"Kurt!"
"Kitty."
"AH!"
Everyone turned to Charles in surprise. He sounded very pained and very annoyed. And this was VERY strange because they had never heard such a strained and sad sound come from their Professor's mouth before. He was always calm, cool, and collected. Now he looked like he was falling to pieces and they were shocked into silence.
The kitchen rang in silence and was quietly tense for a very long moment. It was almost a full minute before Charles finally cleared his throat and looked around at them all. Though he appeared to be fine now, they all noted that the smile on his face looked very forced.
"Excuse me," Charles said quietly. "I have a headache."
Everyone just continued to stare, still unsure of what they had just witnessed.
"But like I was saying," Charles continued as if nothing had happened. "You are all going to the beach. This group here…Jean, Scott, Kurt, Kitty, Remy, Rogue, and Amara. I am trusting you with the safe keeping of my house and everything inside of it. All you have to do is make sure you don't track in. Always take your shoes off before entering, don't eat in the bedrooms, keep it clean, and don't break the TV." He looked around at them all, soaking in their expressions. They looked like they wanted to say something but were too scared to interrupt him again.
"There's only one catch, of course," Charles went on. "You will live there…while you perform a mission for me."
"Oh." Kitty looked sad again as she sank back into her chair. "A mission. I should have figured that."
"If the mission goes well, you can stay there for another week," Charles added and Kitty immediately brightened.
"So what's this mission gonna be?" Remy spoke up.
"Well," Charles sighed. "It's a little out of the ordinary. I only accepted because the man who needs a favor is a good friend of mine. His name is-"iHis
"The fisherman that lives off the coast, right?" Scott asked. "We've met him, haven't we?"
No one knew what Scott was talking about but didn't say so when Charles started nodding. They didn't want their Professor to think that they didn't remember his friends…that would just be rude…even though they really didn't remember him from squat.
"Yes," Charles continued nodding. "Good, you remember him. So you know that he's a fisherman. He's having some trouble catching lobster-"
"Yum," Jean said.
"Poor lobster," Kitty muttered.
"Ah, yes," Charles said, "like I was saying…He's a fisherman, but he's having trouble. Someone keeps coming in the night and cutting through his traps-"
"What?" Rogue interrupted this time. "Who cares so much about whether he catches lobsters or not?"
"It's up to all of you to find that out," Charles said as he folded his hands in front of him. "It is also up to you all to find these crooks and turn them into the police."
"Um," Kurt spoke up, "Why doesn't your friend just call the police himself?"
"He's tried," Charles replied.
"Let me guess," Kitty rolled her eyes. "They're too lazy to investigate it or they're too busy trying to solve all the murders first."
"Probably both." Charles said seriously.
"So…" Rogue said slowly. "We take as long as we have to…out there…on the beach…in your beach house…tryin' to find some guys who want to break lobster traps?"
"Yes," Charles confirmed and everyone's eyes lit up at the thought of the whole summer at the beach. "And I'm sending Jean and Scott with you to make sure you're actually doing the job and not just taking advantage of my hospitality." Charles said brightly.
Everyone groaned. That was exactly what they had been planning to do. Who cared about some guy's lobster traps when there was a beach house that they didn't have to pay for waiting to be partied in? But amidst everyone's groaning, Scott was nodding as though this were the most important mission of his life.
"You can count on us, Professor!" Scott said, somehow sounding more serious than ever before. Jean just nodded firmly in agreement.
"Alright then!" Charles clapped his hands together. "It's settled! You all leave tomorrow!"
"That's kind of quick…" Rogue remarked and Charles tried to look like he had no idea what she was talking about.
"Professor," Kitty said, "I know this is your friend and all, but I thought we went on missions to better mankind and for like…the greater good or whatever."
Charles didn't comment that the 'greater good' in this case was probably saving his sanity. If Charles completely lost it, it certainly wouldn't benefit mankind to have a mutant who was completely off his rocker and that could read minds running around town. Nope, it sure wouldn't. And this was how he justified his actions.
"You're absolutely right, Kitty," he replied, trying to sound smart and dignified. "But the X-men also exist to help those who can't help themselves."
He said this is with such an air of propriety and grace that no one argued. When Professor X talked like that, he must be right. No one could sound that smart and be wrong about anything. Of that, they were sure.
"What about Tabitha?" Jean asked Charles. "Is she coming, too?"
"Yes," he said, "I asked her to come down here…she said she was on her way but she was busy at the moment…" Charles looked very worried as he said this.
No one asked. Tabitha spent a good amount of her day in her room with the door closed. They all were worried about what she might be doing in there. If it were anyone else, they wouldn't have thought anything weird about it. But Tabitha was…Tabitha. Charles had thought more than once about just reading her mind to see what she was thinking about…but then he always backed out. He didn't read anyone's mind without their permission. Not only that, but he had a bad feeling that if what Tabitha was doing in her room was anything as bad he thought, then he certainly didn't want to dive into her mind. That was sure to be a house of horrors.
They all talked about what she must be doing. Some of them thought she was doing drugs, a few of them didn't care, Kitty was convinced that she was sneaking boys in there every opportunity, and Rogue was too scared to know what she was doing. Everyone was curious, but they were all too worried to find out. Remy thought the whole thing was funny and just went up to Tabitha and asked her one day. Tabitha had simply shrugged, said, 'Nothing,' and then ran away.
This only served to scare them more.
~X~
Rogue went upstairs and started to pack. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. She hated packing for anything with a passion. Usually if she ever had to pack a bag she waited for the last second, somehow thinking that she could avoid it. But so far she had never been able to avoid it and had ended up throwing whatever was closest to her into her bag. But this time it was different. She really did need to pack all of the necessities because there was no telling how long they would end up on this mission.
Just like her other teammates (except for Jean and Scott it seemed) she hoped to be able to drag this out for as long as possible. But there was always hope that when they got to their destination that Scott and Jean would see how beautiful the beach was and loosen up a little.
This might have been the lamest mission they had ever been on, but Rogue was determined to enjoy it. As much as she looked forward to it, she was still curious as to why they were suddenly doing jobs for the Professor's friends. That wasn't something they had ever done before…All of their missions up until now had consisted of stopping mutant threats and protecting the community. But she wasn't going to complain. The beach sounded nice.
The only thing that she might complain about if she wanted to was the swimsuit she had. It had been a while since she had gone swimming and the boring green one-piece would be a tight fit. At least she didn't have to worry about deadly skin anymore. Thankfully, along with the help of Professor X and Hank McCoy, she had been able to learn to control her powers. The downside was that sometimes she lost control of it. But nowadays those incidents were few and far between and there hadn't been any accidents in a while.
Slinging her hair up into a sloppy ponytail, she stared at her empty suitcase in contempt. She really should start packing but…she loathed packing. She could always wait until the last minute to do it. No…wait…that wasn't a good idea and she had to keep telling herself that. Kitty would do it. If she really went and asked her too, Rogue knew that Kitty would do it. But then she would end up with her swimsuit, toothbrush, and a bunch of Kitty's clothes to wear. So that option was out. Really, she should stop acting like a big baby and just pack the stupid suitcase. Rogue told herself this as she begrudgingly walked to her dresser and started pulling things out.
Remy chose that moment to knock lightly on the open door and then let himself in. Rogue glanced over her shoulder and sent him a light smile before going back to work. But then as an idea crossed her mind, she turned back to him.
"Hey Remy! Wanna pack my bag for me?" She asked sweetly. "I'll pay ya' five bucks."
Remy had been heading over to sit on her bed but stopped mid step. "Only five? Hm…" he whistled in thought. "Make it ten and Remy'll think about it."
Rogue inwardly sighed. She didn't have ten dollars to give him. She didn't even have five to give him. But that didn't matter; she had figured that later she would think of something to give him instead. There had to be something that he wanted from her other than money.
But right now he was asking for more when she didn't have it…That meant that she was going to have to use 'the face'. It was really nothing…Rogue couldn't understand why the face worked so well. And no matter how many times she used it, Remy always fell for it. Sometimes she wondered if he resisted her just so that she would have to use the face. But it worked anyway so it wouldn't hurt to use it now.
Rogue looked down at the ground, widened her eyes, pouted her bottom lip out just slightly, and then looked back up at Remy.
He immediately closed his eyes and threw a hand over them. "No! Don't do the face!" Despite knowing that she hadn't stopped, Remy separated two fingers to look at her. Of course, she was still making it. Every second her eyes seemed to grow rounder and sadder, tugging at his heart strings and making him want to give her whatever she wanted just as long as she would stop looking at him like that.
"But…Remy…" She said in a sad, quiet voice. "I just need your help…Pleeeease?"
"Rogue," he groaned, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Finally he dropped the hand over his eyes. "Fine! Just stop doin' that!"
But she didn't stop. "Will you really help? Really, Remy?"
"Yes!"
"Ok!" Rogue immediately brightened and skipped over to sit on her bed next to the suitcase. She smiled bright and cheery at him and he couldn't help but feel relieved that she had dropped the lost puppy dog look.
Sighing in defeat, Remy shuffled over to the dresser and started pulling out clothes. He didn't bother to keep them folded or neat; instead, he picked up random armfuls and then walked over to dump them into the suitcase. But Rogue hated packing too much to care. Besides, she would just look over what he had put in there tomorrow at the last second and try to fix it then…Yes, that sounded like a good plan.
"So…" Remy said casually as he opened another drawer to her dresser and grabbed several pairs of jeans. "We're goin' to the beach. How long ya think we can manage to stay there?"
"I think Jean will loosen up as soon as we get there," Rogue replied confidently. "Scott, though…we might have to make him drunk first."
"It sound like a good plan to Remy." Remy dumped the jeans into the open suitcase, unfolding them in the process.
"And I hope we can stay there for at least a few weeks…"
"Ya know," Remy said thoughtfully as he opened her pajama drawer, "there's several different ways we can manipulate this situation to our advantage."
"Meanin?"
"Meanin' we don't have to work to our best potential on this mission. We could 'accidentally' let the thieves slip through our fingers over and over and over again…"
"Aha," Rogue grinned. "Good idea. But," she bit her lip, "I don't know…intentionally screwin' the team over seems a bit harsh."
"Harsh?" Remy scoffed. "Yeah, a little more vacation time at the beach would be so harsh."
"You don't have to be sarcastic," she stuck her tongue out at him. "And don't put that in there."
Remy halted halfway through dropping the armfuls of pajamas into her suitcase. "Why not?"
"Oh, nothin…I sleep in the buff," Rogue said casually.
Remy gulped. He really wished she hadn't said that. There were too many lovely images to go along with her words and none of them were honorable. Didn't she know that you shouldn't say things like that to a man? Didn't she understand that the thoughts and pictures that popped into his mind at her words were not intentional? They just…appeared there. He didn't tell them to get there, they were just there…Not that he was complaining; they were very nice images.
Not only that, but he also didn't consciously mean to mentally count how many doors away her bedroom was from his. Or how many steps it might take to get there. Or how hard it might be to scale the outside of the building and peak in her window. Or wonder if her door was locked, and if it was how hard it would be to pick it.
And also…did she take her clothes off before she got in the bed, or did she get into bed and then take them off? Did she sleep with the sheet and the blanket, or nothing at all? When she started dreaming, did she kick everything off? Did she sleep on her stomach or on her back or on her side?
In his head, Remy pictured that she probably took her clothes off before she got into bed. Then she went over and unlocked the door, hoping that he might be daring enough to come visit her in the middle of the night. Then she did a few pointless exercises, which was just side bends, toe touches, and a few jumping jacks. And when she got into her bed, she didn't use any of the covers at all because she was too hot from her workout and from thinking about him.
See? This is the perfect example of why you should never tell a man that you sleep in the buff. All of those thoughts had just crossed his mind quickly and without him telling them to, leaving him with big, dumb grin on his face.
Thankfully, Rogue didn't notice it. She was busy picking through her underwear drawer. Wait, her WHAT?
Remy turned his head so fast in her direction that a crick formed in his neck. Dropping the clothes, he lifted one hand to rub his neck while keeping a concentrated eye on Rogue. She was saying something…but he wasn't listening. He was pretty sure it was about the weather, but who cared about the weather when there were ladies panties begging to be looked at? Unless…it was raining ladies panties.
This thought procured another goofy grin.
But Rogue kept talking while she rifled through her drawer. Every now and then she would pull out a pair and hold onto it with one hand while searching for more with her other. Remy watched this whole process intently, mentally counting how many there were and what colors and what cuts and what materials. Why? Because he was a man. That's why.
Maybe Rogue was more innocent than he had thought. Did she honestly think it was ok to start talking about sleeping naked and then pull out all kinds of underwear in front him? Any other man might think she was coming on to him, but Remy knew better. Rogue was completely oblivious to the results her actions were causing in him.
Was she that innocent, or was he that perverted?
Remy had to agree with the latter, most definitely. Everyone had a little perverseness inside of them, no matter how much they might try to deny it. But for Rogue to act so nonchalant about all of this…either she was a master of seduction or she really didn't know what she was doing to him.
She could be that naïve. After gaining control of her powers, Remy had only seen her go out on a few dates, and every time she hadn't been all that interested and was coerced into by Kitty. Remy never asked her what happened on these dates, but every time she would go on one, she had returned early and looked happy to be home but annoyed at the same time. He never met any of these suitors but secretly hated them all with a passion and hoped that they might drive off of a cliff on the way home.
And he really had never thought of it before. But Rogue must be innocent in the strongest sense of the word. How she had managed that with the way she looked, he wasn't sure. Why her teenage hormones seemed to be under complete control and not at all raging, he didn't know. When he was her age just looking at a bed made him want to have sex. Hell, he didn't even have to see a bed. The floor was enough to get him started.
Sure, the poison skin was enough to hold anyone off. But after that wasn't any issue any longer, Remy figured Rogue would be eager to touch, but instead she was very hesitant. This might be because there was more than one accident where someone had been drained…
"-and what do we do if there's a hurricane or somethin?" Rogue was still speaking as she searched through her drawer and didn't see that he wasn't paying her words the least bit of attention. "I mean, we'll be right there on the beach, won't that be dangerous?"
"Mm," Remy grunted in reply, still transfixed by her underwear. But Rogue didn't notice and kept talking.
They were nothing really extravagant. All of them were modest and practical, but still attractive. He counted the colors in his head—and noticed that he didn't see the same color twice. White, black, tan, pink, red, green, purple, lilac, blue, aqua blue, sky blue…French cut, bikini cut, high cut, and there was some girls briefs…
And where were all her bras? Remy would very much like to see all of her bras.
Before he could put too much thought into this, Rogue turned with hands full of underwear and walked over to put them in the suitcase. Seeing that the pajamas were still there, she sent him an irritated look. Taking the hint, he picked them up, his head still swimming. He had to restrain a yelp when her hand slipped past his and he felt some of the cloth she held brush against his knuckles.
"Are you alright?" she asked, sounding concerned as she stuffed her underwear into the suitcase. "You're sweating."
Of course he was sweating. The girl was trying to kill him. Or seduce him and she was really good at pretending like this was nothing. He wasn't sure about either one of these things, but Remy knew one thing for certain. He knew that he had to get out of this room and away from Rogue before he completely lost it.
"Rogue," he couldn't help but ask something before he left. But he hadn't expected his voice to sound so strangled. "If you sleep in the buff," he nearly choked on that word as more of the images it had produced came forth again, "then why do you have all of these pajamas?"
She shrugged one shoulder as she continued to shove underwear into her bag. "I get cold in the winter…sometimes anyway."
Remy gulped.
"I wonder if we'll have to share rooms at the beach house." Rogue continued, missing Remy's eyes growing wide behind her back. "Maybe I do need to bring some of those." she motioned to the pajamas sitting on the bed. "But if we shared rooms I reckon the girls would all go into one."
At this, Remy squeezed his eyes closed tight.
"But Kitty has seen me naked more times than I like to admit and I ain't gonna add to that number." Rogue grumbled.
Remy's eyes snapped open and he openly gawked at her.
"What!" he gasped. "Why has Kitty seen you naked?"
Finally she turned and regarded him with a curious look. "Why's your voice all breathless like that?" she questioned.
"Answer the question."
"She's walked in on me dressing a few times after training sessions." Rogue shrugged and then sank back down onto the bed.
He was certain of it now. Rogue was trying to kill him.
"I have to go," he said in that same strained voice and he sprinted for the door.
"What?" Rogue looked confused by his sudden departure. "Where are you going? Remy? Remy!"
Purposefully ignoring her, Remy ran through the door and to the safety of his own room.
To Be Continued...