Remy's Diabolical Plan
Chapter Thirteen: That Summer Heat Sure is Diabolical
~X~
Rogue clicked her tongue impatiently. Life, at that exact moment in time, was quite the annoying affair. Right in the midst of summer, it was predictably hot but today seemed to be hotter than any other day thus far. Sweat trickled down her temples in little rivulets and accumulated in uncomfortable places such as under her arms and the backs of her knees and under her hair. Speaking of which, she had yet to get it cut; mostly because she had been too lazy. But it would have to be cut soon. All it ever did was sit up in a tied ponytail on her head anyway.
But it wouldn't matter if she cut off all of hair and decided to take off all her clothes and around naked. The day would still be hotter than the six shades of hell. When they had stepped out of the house that morning they had all groaned gone back in to the nice air conditioning. Everyone except for Amara who had yet to come back inside.
Unfortunately, Rogue knew Scott. And unfortunately, Scott was the type of person who was together and didn't like to leave things until the last minute. So most unfortunately of all, he had recruited (or more forced. They had drawn straws.) Rogue into going to the store with him and buying the 'necessary' items for the fourth of July.
The third of July was not the best day to go shopping. Though this was the time when you could get the best deals in the store, this was also the time when there were insane people out looking for bargains in the store. The fourth of July was America's birthday; the day that their ancestors had declared independence for all of America. So what better way to celebrate this that to grill steaks, eat potato salad, go swimming, get drunk, and burn down houses with explosives?
Ok, the 'burning down houses with explosives' wasn't on purpose. But it did happen. Mostly because everyone was drunk off of alcoholic beverages and their country's freedom.
Rogue was afraid of going to the store with all the crazy people. So when she and Scott had driven here, he had carefully laid out a whole extensive plan for them to follow. He would go in and buy the food. She would go out and buy the fireworks. Rogue had no idea how to pick out fireworks but she had agreed to this anyway.
Now she regretted that decision. The weather was blisteringly hot, she was sweating like a pig, her ponytail was sticking to the back of her neck, and a menacing looking wasp kept flying around and around her head, buzzing loudly and making her very nervous. A police officer had parked in the NO PARKING zone in front of the store and was leaning against his car, watching them all as though anyone was really going to commit a crime while he stood and watched. But he kept looking at Rogue and this made her even more nervous than the wasp. Why was he staring at her? She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably and kept her gaze from locking with his.
The sun continued to beat down on her skin and she worried that it would burn if she stood her for another few minutes. But the man in front of her was the most annoying thing about this day so far. The fireworks stand they were in front of had one man inside, working with the costumer she was waiting behind.
"What's that one do?" The skinny, balding, middle aged in front of her asked, pointing out a random pack of fireworks.
The younger man working in the stand responded dully, "That one shoots in the air and blows up, sir."
"Ahuh," the man nodded thoughtfully before pointing out something else. "And what's this one do?"
"That one shoots in the air and blows up, sir." The man responded again, sounding very much like he would like to die at that point.
"And what's this one do?"
"I think that one shoots in the air and blows up."
"Oh, good, good. And this one?"
"It shoots in the air and blows up."
"How about this one?"
Rogue ground her teeth together. If that cop wasn't there, she would have been very tempted to reach out and drain the man dead already. He had asked the same question only about five hundred times. And the man working in the stand wasn't helping at all. She wished sourly that he would suggest something to the dumb, brain-dead costumer. Instead the man kept asking, and asking, and asking, and the temperature was getting hotter and the wasp was flying closer and the cop was continuing to stare and now some strange young man was coming over and smiling at her.
If this torture didn't end soon, Rogue was going to kill someone for revenge, and then she was going to kill someone just for kicks.
"Hi." The young man that had come to stand behind her was tapping on her shoulder. She turned halfway to regard him, perhaps a little rudely because she was still incredibly annoyed.
"What?" She snapped impatiently.
But her reaction didn't faze him in the least. He continued to smile and stare at her in awe. "I just wanted to say," He breathed, "You are so beautiful."
She blinked. Surely she had heard wrong. Perhaps the heat was getting to her worse than she thought. Normally she would have thought he was over doing it a bit. Beautiful? Her? No. She was a plain Jane with nothing especially different about her. But today she doubted his words even more. It wasn't a joke saying that she was sweating like a pig. She was sweating like a pig and right in that moment she felt like one.
"What?"
"You're beautiful." The young man repeated, a little more firmly this time. "Your hair and your skin and your eyes—they're all so beautiful, everything about you is!"
"Uh-" He was over doing it. Either he was blind or he really wanted to get some. Rogue just wasn't sure which. Although she was touched by his meaningless and untruthful babble. It was always nice to be called beautiful, most especially on a day when you certainly didn't feel it. "Thank you." She told him sincerely, feeling very embarrassed by his compliments.
"It's really hot out here, huh?" He commented and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Yes," she sighed miserably before turning back around to face the stand. It seemed the stupid costumer was almost out of things to point to.
"Is that wasp bothering you? I could kill it if you want?" The boy behind her offered.
"It's fine." She lied.
"My name's Jack."
"The ripper?"
"Huh?"
"Nothin." She said quickly. "Nice to meet you."
"Do you want to go shoot some pool with me later?"
"Uh-" she tried to think of a reason that she couldn't. Not because he didn't seem nice or friendly and he was kind of cute, but because…she didn't like to date. Three crappy evenings with three crappy guys had been enough to put her off of that forever. Seriously, who made this crap up anyway? Who actually enjoyed this?
But then Remy came to her mind. Remy, with his new wardrobe and his secretive smile and his dimple that always came with said smile. Remy who now was the cause of several erotic dreams as of last night. Remy, who was in love with some woman whom she had never met before, and was probably incredibly stupid if you asked Rogue. Remy was happy and in love. Rogue was stuck listening to his stupid sappy comments and seeing his infuriating dimple-inducing grin. It seemed every other thing Remy said lately had to do with Jessica and every time he said that name it made Rogue want to punch any woman she met named Jessica.
Now Rogue had two choices. She could either remain single and not go out with anyone and keep stewing in her own jealousy and depression, or she could go out with Jack the Ripper and maybe get her mind off of Remy and hopefully be slightly less miserable.
She thought.
She thought really hard.
For about two seconds.
"No, I can't today; sorry."
"What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's a holiday."
"The next day?"
"I got plans that day."
"What about the one after that?"
"I got plans then, too."
"Ok…what about next Friday?"
Rogue sighed. Wasn't there something about next Friday that was special? She couldn't quite remember…Oh yeah. Remy had said that he was going to give Jessica a call on Friday because it was her birthday. Suddenly she knew that getting out of the house that day was imperative.
"You know what?" She said thoughtfully without turning around to look at him. "That sounds peachy. Lemme get you my number…"
"And what does this one do?" The man in front of them pointed out to the last thing in front of him.
The younger man behind the stand jerked awake. "Oh what? Oh, that." He yawned and stretched his arms above his head lazily. "It flies in the air and blows up."
"Well!" The costumer seemed very unsatisfied. "If that's all your fireworks do then I'm not going to waste my time or money on any of them!" He huffed angrily and then spun on his heel and stomped off.
Without thinking, Rogue jerked the biggest firework off of the counter of the stand, lit it, and fired it right at the back of the man's head. Or…at least, this was what she imagined she was doing. In reality, she was watching the rude man walk off with a look of utter confusion and revulsion etched across her face. If she ever ran into him again, she would kill him. But right now she was just going to buy some fireworks.
She stepped forward with a feeling of accomplishment, as though she had been waiting her whole life for her turn and finally it was here. When it was over a hundred degrees and swelteringly hot, twenty minutes did seem like a lifetime. The man behind the counter just blinked at her in boredom and gave her a slight grunt of acknowledgment that supposedly meant hello in grunt language. For half a second she contemplated saying, "What does this one do?" just to annoy him.
But it was too hot for that. She pointed out the most ridiculously priced and biggest pack of fireworks and after she paid for them, the man hauled the big pack onto the counter.
"Need help with that?" The young man asked from behind her. Already she had forgotten his name and so she simply waved him off.
"I'm fine." The package was as tall as she was and twice as wide but she was an X-man! And X-men…could lift fireworks if they wanted. Or…something like that but with a cooler sound that emphasized how much her muscles were worked out from constant danger room sessions. Rogue was strong. So she lifted the package up. Only to find that it wasn't actually heavy, just very big and hard to carry. But she would not accept help from any of these men. Never!
So she ended up dragging the big package of fireworks to the car. And then she had a hell of time getting it in the trunk. Suddenly she really wished that Jubilee was there. With her around, there was never any need to buy fireworks.
Scott arrived just as she had finally been able to close the trunk and predictably, he had only bought the bare essentials.
"No sodas?" She tried not to sound whiny.
"Water will do." He said happily.
"No beer?"
He gasped. "Rogue! You're underage!"
"Yeah, in this country." She grumbled as she helped him load groceries into the backseat.
Scott just sent her a disapproving look. He might have pressed this issue further but it was too hot to stand outside and argue so they quickly loaded up and then jumped in the car, turning up the air conditioner as hard as it would go.
"Ah…" Rogue relaxed into her seat and shut her eyes. As long as that cool air was blowing on her, she was in heaven.
"When we get home, I have something for you to do."
She tried very hard not to groan. "What?"
"I want you and Remy both to write down the events of the other night. You saw these people and I need every detail possible to hand in to the police."
She grunted and didn't open in her eyes. Instead she concentrated on the cool air on her sweaty neck…
"Remy should already be writing his report. That was the mission I gave him before we left the house."
Rogue cracked an eye open to look at his profile. He wasn't looking at her, instead (thankfully) looking out at the road as he drove and he looked excited at the prospect of catching the culprits. Kind of like a puppy. Rogue titled her head to side as she took him in. He was just sitting there, talking about the mission, all bright eyed and bushy tailed…
"-and I typed it all up on the library computer." He was saying. "Just answer the questions it asks and that should be enough. Don't forget every detail. Even the tiniest thing could help us."
She was sure that Remy was having SO much fun with this back at home. She smirked. Oh yes, surely Remy was loving this mission.
~X~
Remy groaned. This mission sucked! This wasn't even a mission. And he hadn't even started yet. It was just the thought of starting that annoyed him. He would rather be annoying Kurt or thinking of evil plans or reading Diabolical Seduction. Not actually doing his job!
But he had to do it before Scott got back from the store. Groaning again, Remy forced himself to sit on his bed and stared at the paper in his hand. The first line read: Not leaving anything out, from start to finish, explain everything that happened last night in explicit detail.
What other question could Scott have possibly thought of after explain everything? What else was there to explain after you had explained everything? Now Remy wished that they hadn't told him they had seen the lobster thieves night before last night. Scott became way too excited when more work presented itself.
Groaning for a third time, Remy picked up a pen and tapped it against the paper. What exactly had happened last night? All he could remember was kissing Rogue. Did Scott want that detail too? Maybe, but Remy was sure that Rogue would not want anyone to know about that so he refrained from writing it. He continued to stare at the paper, the bold words that Scott had typed up becoming blurred in his vision.
Was Rogue thinking about that kiss as much as he was? Probably not. She seemed completely normal. Remy sighed, depressed. The only thing he could think to do now was keep talking about 'Jessica' and hope that it would drive Rogue crazy. But that didn't seem to be working either. Nothing seemed to be working.
But he had to keep trying, he had to think of something new or else he was always going to be this sad. He blinked. The paper was still in his hand but he had completely forgotten about it. Groaning yet again, Remy started writing.
Boring night, real quiet. Lobster trap breaker/lobster thief people showed up but then ran away when they saw we were mutants. They didn't come back again.
There. That summed up the night pretty well. How much more descriptive could you get than that?
Remy turned the page to look at the next thing Scott had typed. In GREAT detail, please explain what the perps looked like.
Remy smirked. The 'perps'?
I only really looked at one of them. Brown hair, long legs, and big breasts. And there was another woman with slightly bigger breasts. Everyone else had normal sized breasts. All except for those guys that were there. They didn't have any breasts.
That was good, very good. Remy nodded in approval of his own work. He really was very observant when it came to these things.
The next line from Scott read: Did you happen to see any getaway car/vehicle/bikes that they drove? If so, explain.
Nope. They ran away.
Did they ever threaten you verbally or physically? Did they pull out any weapons?
Not that I can remember.
Are you sure you've put down EVERYTHING that happened last night? If there's anything more you'd like to ass, write it here.
Remy snorted loudly. Obviously, Scott had a typo there at the end and had failed to notice it. He bent double laughing, wrinkling the papers in his hand as he went. He wasn't sure how he did it, but eventually he was able to get himself under control enough to write: Scott, I only see you as a friend and frankly, you're not my type. If you want someone to ass you, go to Jean.
There. All done. What a lovely report. Remy happily relaxed into his chair and continued chuckling quietly at Scott's blunder.
To Be Continued...