BENEATH THE SURFACE
Part Nineteen
"I got a bone t' pick wit' you," Remy said quickly to Tabitha as she was leaving the Danger Room. She'd been one of the last ones to leave after taking the time to sit on the floor and rest, she'd exerted herself today but then they all had, the sessions had been getting harder. Remy hoped it was only a matter of time before he was moved to the X-Men's team after all the hard work he'd put in with the New Mutants training.
Tabitha, slightly startled that he'd waited, looked up at him, "How are you down here on your own?"
"Finally got the clearance codes and access," Remy replied, "Ororo give me them before the session. "But that ain' what I want t' talk t' y' about," he frowned.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Y' tol' Rogue I've been tellin' y' secrets," he snapped, he wished he hadn't sounded so angry about it, but he couldn't help himself. Throughout the whole training session he'd been biting his tongue, when everyone had been standing around waiting for their instructions, he'd been seething with the trouble Tabitha had just caused his relationship (he was sure Rogue was going to be extra suspicious now).
"So?" she asked, she unscrewed the cap on her water bottle (at the end of the hectic session they'd been provided outside on a table) and took a sip.
"Now she's on my case!"
"What's it got to do with her?" Tabitha shrugged, she closed the cap.
Remy hadn't thought this far in advance of his complaint, he hadn't been thinking too clearly since leaving school.
Be honest, y' ain' been thinkin' clearly since Louisiana, he thought dully. "Exactly," Remy hissed, "What's it got t' do wit' Rogue?! Y' had no right t' even suggest that y' knew anythin'!"
Tabitha kept walking.
"I thought y' would get that things like this, y' don' hint at t' others! I tol' no one about you! I didn' say a word!"
"All I said was that you told me things, that's it, I never said what they were!" Tabitha snapped back suddenly, "but you and Rogue are so tight these days, I'm surprised you haven't told her."
Remy paused, "what makes y' think I haven't?"
"Because if you had, you wouldn't be standing here getting on my case about it," Tabitha retorted.
He drew his breath and tried to get control of the situation, "Just keep y' yap shut about my stuff. Don' go talkin' t' no one about it."
"Look, I wouldn't do that to you!" Tabitha replied, "not just because of what you know, but because I wouldn't do that to anyone," she snapped. She paused, she seemed to take a moment to try and calm herself, "look...I...I admit I said you told me things, okay? It just came out, but the secrets, they wouldn't," she reached out and touched his arm lightly. "I know what this is like, okay? I'm not going to blab about it."
"Look, if you do-" he said, slowly moving back from her reach, he was uneasy about that touch, it was still too telling. Despite what he'd said, she still cared, he wished he knew what to say to change that.
"But I won't," she crossed her heart, "now...it's nearly dinner time, and I'm starving. And I – like you – have homework to do afterwards. We both have better things to do, so lets drop it okay?"
He watched her walking away, her pace slightly anxious, her spine a little tense. The whole exchange left him uneasy, questioning just how much he could trust her with the things that he'd said – a crossing of a heart didn't really prevent a secret from escaping, did it? He was suddenly rather glad he'd been so vague. If things did come out, he supposed he could always try to make something up to fit what he'd said.
He stood for a few moments in the hallway, he didn't want to be stuck in the same elevator with her in case the argument continued; arguing could get passionate, and he didn't want to give her any of the wrong signals. She was gone; he heard the elevator mechanism shutting, the sound of it moving up, he began his slow walk to it.
A soft sound at his back caught his attention, a light step or a patting sound, he wasn't sure exactly, but he turned to see what it was. There was nothing there.
The halls were empty, there was a distant buzz in the walls, the hum of electricity, computer servers hidden behind steel walls, the hum of those bright lights built into the ceiling. Remy gazed up, he couldn't pinpoint where the sound had come from. "Hello?" he asked, wondering if anyone was around the corner. "Anyone there?"
It hit him like a wrecking ball, something slammed him hard into the wall by the elevator; his cheek hit it and he winced; whatever it was had him pressed so hard against the freezing steel wall that it stung his face.
At first, he caught himself wondering if he were being ambushed as part of a secret training assessment but as the smell of alcohol, of cigarettes, of sweat and decay surrounded him, he knew at once it had been too much wishful thinking. In seconds, he was a boy again, he was trapped and he was defenceless and he didn't have the strength to fight back. In his mind he could see it, flashbacks of the dark room, of the poster on his wall he'd sometimes look at, the sting of his tears, the blood he'd taste in his mouth as he bit on his tongue to stop from crying out.
It was the closest Jean-Luc had gotten to him since his death; it was so real, everything about it felt physically real, from the hot breath on his neck to the protrusion pressing against his hip. It was as if someone were physically there, holding him. His hands were pushed against the wall, but as his eyes shifted to look over his shoulder he saw nothing, he couldn't even see the pressure hands might leave upon his skin. Every muscle in his body tensed with the fear of what was going to happen, what he was going to feel, the memory of how it had felt before, the first time and the last, it made him go cold.
"Y' ain' real," Remy shuddered, "Y' ain'..."
Why did it never speak? Why could it perform these physical feats but never utter a word? The breath came in spurts against his neck; the elevator doors to Remy's left made a soft hiss as the doors opened, and just like that, he felt himself released; he collapsed to the floor, the tension in his body just seeming to release all at once.
He sank to his knees and remained there a moment, breathing heavy, the fear had frozen his lungs for what had felt like an eternity.
Get a grip, stop it, stop it, stop it, he told himself. Get up, pull y'self t'gether and stop it. Nothin' happened.
Somehow, he managed to get himself up from the floor and rush into the elevator, hoping he wasn't about to get into an elevator with him. As the doors closed to the elevator, on the other side in the hallway, he saw the hazy reflection of Jean-Luc's ghost on the wall disappearing.
The new features to the Blackbird that Hank had programmed in were far more complicated than Rogue could make head nor tail of. She wasn't sure if it was due to her having been subject to facts and lesson plans being thrown in her face all day that had made it so hard to concentrate...
Or maybe it was that stupid argument with Remy, she thought tiredly as she left the Blackbird after the lesson, Hank staying within to finish off some work.
Logan was standing in the hangar, almost as if he'd been waiting for her. "How'd it go?" he asked.
Rogue swept her hair from her face, "school or the new controls in the jet?" she asked. She was already bored of both subjects.
"Both."
"School is a nightmare – homework on the first day? They're really evil this year. And how am Ah supposed to cope with learnin' about the new functions on the Blackbird with all that goin' on?"
"I know it's a pain," Logan said, leading the way to the exit, "but it's necessary. As long as you understand some of the basics about those new functions – especially the advanced cloaking device and new landing function. If anything comes up, fate is not going to care if you have school work or not, kid, you'll need to know how land the thing in a nose dive."
"Yeah, Ah know," Rogue followed on.
"Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Logan was leading the way to the war room.
"Oh?"
"How was LeBeau today?"
"Remy? He's fine..."
"He's okay in class? No violent outbursts?"
"He didn't have time for violence, he could barely keep up. Ah don't think anyone in class could," Rogue shrugged.
"But is he actually doing anything or just sitting there like a fart in a trance?"
Rogue raised an eyebrow at the question, "a little of both. He's...tryin'. He knew what he was doin' in French class."
"No surprise there."
"But in Math, he kind of...went blank, and in English he spent most of the time sitting looking at the paper without writing much. But...it's been a few years since he was in a real school, he's going to need time to adjust, you know?"
"I know," Logan nodded. "And what's his...attitude been like?"
"His attitude..." Rogue repeated.
"To you?"
"He's been good...he asked me to help him study."
"I guess that's somethin'," Logan supposed.
"Why all the questions? Why not just ask him yourself?" Rogue queried.
"I want to show you something," Logan led her into the War Room, and he moved towards the control panel, he pointed to the large monitor, "look here..."
"Yeah...?"
"Don't ask me what's wrong with the sound, it started crackling, I can't make out what's bein' said here...this was recorded just a little while ago," he tapped a code into the keyboard.
Rogue stared at the monitor, Remy and Tabitha were in the sub-basement hallway near the Danger Room talking – actually, as far as Rogue could tell by the look on Remy's face, it looked more like arguing. Tabitha looked slightly sheepish, and Remy seemed rather annoyed, even from so far away Rogue could see the less-than-amused expression on his handsome face. The sound was crackling ridiculously, all that came out were muffled voices.
"Know what that's about?" Logan asked.
"Ah think so," Rogue replied, she tried not to be upset about it, she didn't want to show her worry to Logan that there really may be something between Tabitha and Remy. Tabitha touched Remy's arm, she saw the uneasy look on his face, the way he moved back a little. The discussion ended and Tabitha walked away, seeming quite tense and unhappy, Remy lingered there, looking quite put out and unhappy. "Is there a reason why you're spyin' on him?" she asked, folding her arms uncomfortably.
"He's under supervision, he's just been given access to the sub-basements without chaperone, of course he's bein' watched," Logan threw her a look, "he'll be watched until such times as we're sure he can be trusted."
"Fine, is this it? You wanted to show me them arguin'?" Rogue asked pointedly.
"No...that's not what this is about. Watch this..." Logan tapped in a code.
Rogue watched as the angle of the camera changed, Remy was approaching the elevator, and he stopped; it was almost as if for a moment he'd heard something because he turned, and checked behind him. In a flash something had happened, he pushed himself to the wall hard, face pressed against the steel, expression frantic.
"What...what is he doin'?" Rogue asked, she stepped closer to the monitor.
"That's what I wanted to ask you," Logan said, he turned to her, "He ever do this before?"
"Do this...?" Rogue gestured, "Ah don't know what this is..."
"He mutters somethin'...I don't know, sound software won't even touch it," Logan admitted, "then...he just drops..." he indicated on the screen as Remy released himself from the wall and fell to his knees.
Rogue gaped at the monitor; Remy looked scared, his eyes bulging, his chest rising and falling, she could see it even from so far away. He got up shakily, the elevator doors were open and he hurried in.
"You tell me that's normal..." Logan said.
"Ah..." Rogue tried, she couldn't explain it, "Ah've never seen him act like that..."
"Rogue, have you entertained the notion that your husband may be losin' it?" Logan asked.
"It's...it's a hard day...first day of school...danger room session, homework, Ah mean...he's going to be tense..." Rogue tried to excuse it.
"Tense enough to throw himself into a wall?" Logan snorted.
"Maybe he tripped?"
"I watched it a dozen times, he didn't trip, Rogue. He threw himself."
"Ah'll...Ah'll talk to him..." Rogue shrugged, "but...he...he won't tell me anythin'. Every time Ah try to get him to open up to me he shuts down..."
"Then you need to rethink your approach," Logan replied.
"It'd help if we could get some time alone," Rogue admitted.
"Then go for coffee or somethin'," Logan turned the monitor off.
"No...he won't talk about it in public, has to be private...where we can't be interrupted."
"No. No private time in the mansion in rooms. I know what it leads to, Rogue."
"But-"
"Look," said Logan sternly, "You two want to screw around, you find somewhere not under this roof to do it."
"We're not...screwin' around..." Rogue said uneasily, her face flushing at the lie.
"You think I don't know?" Logan suddenly chuckled but it sounded bitter and displeased, his expression was dark, "You think I'm stupid, don't you? That you two can get at it while I'm outside, that I won't be able to tell later? You can shower all you want, Rogue, but I'll still know..."
He's bluffin', Rogue thought, trying to remain perfectly calm.
"Sex has a distinct scent, you know."
Rogue gaped at him in horror, "Ah...Ah..."
"I've known since St. Tropez, Rogue. When I came to get you...the moment I walked into that living room, I could tell."
It was so horrifying to think of, of him knowing all this time that she'd had sex. She wondered what he thought of her right then. Was he unhappy with her? Disappointed? Furious? Why had he held back until now?
"I don't want to know about what you two get up to, how it happened, or the work arounds, I don't need to know, and I don't need excuses or reasons why it's okay. I know you're married, I know legally, you can do as you please," Logan retorted, "But not under this roof."
"But-" she stammered.
"The others don't know the circumstances, all it takes is one whiff of it getting around that someone is screwing around. Influence and assumptions that it's okay to be acting that way changes a lot of things in a school, and some aren't even sixteen yet. Kids feel pressure of knowing their friends are getting up to all sorts while they aren't...We don't need complicated relationships and teenage pregnancies, some of these kids have had a hard enough life as it is without that coming into the picture."
She looked away guiltily.
"I know you're thinking I'm being unfair bringing this all up, I'm trying to be fair as I can," Logan adjusted some of the settings on another monitor.
Rogue didn't know what to say, it was a horrible thing for him to be bringing up, especially in private.
"Just promise me that you're being really careful," Logan looked at her, "and I mean really careful."
"We are," she said quietly, she hugged herself uneasily.
"And that he isn't hurtin' you."
"He's...never hurt me..." Rogue promised, "He's...not like you'd think, Logan...he's..."
"I don't need the play by play," Logan said, "I can't do anything about it. I don't like the idea of this, I still don't trust him and to be honest, I still think he's going to break your heart along the lines. But you have the right to do what you want with your body, Professor told me to let it go, I'm letting it go. I'm just warning you as an instructor that there's rules, and you have to abide them in this house. You want to fool around with your husband, you do it privately off of the premises."
"Okay," she breathed nervously.
"Now," Logan rolled his neck, "back on to the subject, I suggest you try talking to him about things – but don't bring up what you saw on that monitor. If you let him know you saw that, he will shut down and we don't need him to know he's bein' watched right now."
"Okay," she managed again.
"You better go, dinner is soon," Logan waved her off.
Rogue headed towards the door, heart sinking. She paused at the doorway for a moment, and looked over her shoulder, "Logan?"
"Hmm?"
"Ah'm...sorry."
"For?" he asked, pausing at what he was doing.
"Disappointin' you."
Logan stared down at the control panel, "it's not that you disappointed me, Rogue," he said quietly, "It's that he disappointed you."
"How do...how do you know that?" she asked.
"Because you're still not happy."
Rogue knew not what to make of the comment, and so she left the room without another word. In the elevator the scene played over and over in her mind, not just his argument with Tabitha, but the way he'd thrown himself against the wall.
If Ah bring either up, he'll know Ah'm spyin' on him...he'll be furious, she realised. As she left the elevator and turned around the hall, she spied Remy coming down the stairs, she was about to talk to him when she saw Scott catch up behind him.
"Hey, Gambit."
Remy turned, not even noticing Rogue coming around the corner, Rogue paused, listening.
"Oui?" Remy asked, his tone revealed how tired, he was.
"Is it true you're looking to buy a Harley Davidson?" Scott asked.
"Yeah," Remy responded, "especially since my car is now a wreck."
"A girl in my class at the community college is selling a 70s model. I think a Softtail..." Scott leaned on the newel post, "she bought it for a boyfriend but caught him messing with her sister, so she got rid of the boyfriend and now she's desperate to get rid of the bike too."
"How much she lookin' t' sell it for?" Remy raised an eyebrow.
"Not much, it needs some work, I said I knew someone who was looking, I got her number if you're interested."
Rogue stepped out where she'd been hiding, "Ah'm not so sure someone who can't even drive a car without crashin' it should have a Harley Davidson," she commented. "Besides, aren't you banned from the road?"
"Accident report shows that the car wasn' all that roadworthy even though I'd had it checked," Remy stated, "Law says I'm fit t' drive and ride a bike."
"But-" Rogue tried. The thought of him being on the road again alone after the last time didn't sit well with her.
"Y' can be the first person t' ride wit' me," Remy offered her, smirking, "sure y' like a nice big crotch rocket 'tween y' thighs. An' maybe after that, we could ride the Harley too."
Rogue frowned.
"That's...so inappropriate," Scott frowned, "Uhm...I'll text you the girl's number...you can get in touch if you want to buy it or whatever...I'm going to get to dinner, before anything else you say ruins my appetite."
Rogue watched as Scott wandered off, shaking his head at Remy's rather inappropriate innuendo. "Do you have to keep doin' that?"
"He knows I'm jus' messin' around," Remy said, he got to the bottom step.
"No bikes, Remy, Ah mean it," Rogue shook her head.
"F' real?" he snorted, "Y' can't stop me from buyin' a bike. Anyway, I need a vehicle f' school, I ain' catchin' a ride in the mutant mobile f' ever. 'Sides which, if I'd had my own bike, I wouldn't have wasted twenty minutes t' day waitin' f' the others t' get t' the car."
Rogue sighed, "yeah, but what if you have another crash."
"I won'," he replied. Rogue wasn't so sure he believed that himself, there was a strangely conflicted look about him. He had a small mark on his cheek, it looked slightly swollen and a little bruised. Had hat been from his throwing himself against the wall?
"What's that on your face?" she asked, she gestured to his cheek, trying to seem as naturally innocent as possible.
"What?"
"That..." she pushed her gloved index finger against the bruise lightly, he flinched.
"Ow...what the fuck, Marie..." he swiped her hand away.
"Ssh!" she warned him
"I don' know what that's from," he touched his cheek thoughtfully, "maybe gym."
"What were you doin' in gym?" she asked.
"Runnin'..." he paused then made up a lie in a flawless second, "I fell...didn' feel it at the time."
"It's only just showin' up now, it looks new," Rogue commented.
"What looks new?" came Tabitha's voice as she came dancing down the stairs.
"Uhm...nothin'," Remy shook his head.
"What's that on your face?" Tabitha blinked, she put her hand out to him but he moved back quickly.
"An owie," he replied with a casual sigh, "Rogue just hit me."
Tabitha shot Rogue a rather curious look.
"Ah did not," Rogue blinked, "Not that you don't deserve to be hit on occasions," she muttered. Suddenly she regretted the comment, because Remy looked slightly upset, his expression fell.
Oh well done, Rogue, make jokes about hittin' to a guy who used to get beat up by the guy who was supposed to be his father...
Remy somehow seemed to quickly pull himself together from the comment, "We gon' stand about all night in here, I'm starvin', lets just go eat already...Jesus, what is it wit' you girls and wantin' t' stand and talk all night...yap yap yap, alllll day..." he shook his head and walked away.
Tabitha tilted her head curiously, watching Remy, "what was that about?"
"Ah wish Ah knew," Rogue said honestly.
At dinner, it was pizza; because it was the first day back at school the instructors had been merciful and decided to not have anyone on chore rota tonight to give them all a chance to rest after a hard first day, especially for those who'd had to come back and participate in missions, and would have studying to do later. No one needed to cook and do dishes on their first day back at school.
Rogue watched Remy as he sat chatting with Scott about the bike some more; the girl who was selling the bike had sent Scott some pictures and Remy was rather enthusiastic about the idea now. For the most part he seemed fine considering only an hour or so ago he'd been throwing himself against a wall for what she could see was absolutely no reason.
Please don't buy that bike, she thought at him. She had visions of him flying off of that bike, breaking his neck. Right now he wasn't focused enough to be on the road on a mobile death machine.
Rogue retired to the library after a few slices of pizza and got her books out, but it was another ten before Remy joined her. He came to the table, surprising her by actually remembering to bring his books, and he dropped them on the surface.
"Quiet in here," he noted, glancing around.
"Yeah...no one wants to study immediately after dinner," Rogue pointed out, "A few got theirs done right after school...a few will do it in their rooms before bed...some won't even bother doin' it until on the way to school. Hardly anyone ever studies in the library, other than Kitty."
"I see," he said, dropping himself into the chair.
"So your freak out about the library bein' too noisy..." she pointed out, "was a little...unnecessary."
"I guess I jus' assumed everyone woul' be in here."
"Yeah, you're still new to this place," Rogue pointed out, "Okay so, we have to read this chapter-" she began.
"I was thinkin'," Remy interrupted her, "why don' I buy y' a car..."
"A car..." she blinked, "Remy...what?"
"I was jus' thinkin' y' know...I'm gettin' a Harley...but you could have a car y' own, we coul' drive t' school t' gether, me 'n' you..."
"No..." Rogue shook her head, "Ah don't need a car. Besides, everyone would wonder how Ah could afford one..."
"We could lie and say y' won money on a lottery ticket or somethin'...like one of them scratch cards..."
"No. You're not buyin' a Harley, Remy, and you're definitely not buyin' me a car."
"Spoilsport."
"Why am Ah a spoilsport?"
"'Cause y' won' let me buy y' anythin'."
"You bought me an iPhone," she pointed out, "You're payin' the bill for it every month..."
"Yeah but that ain' enough..."
"It's plenty. Ah don't need possessions, Remy," she explained, "Ah don't need diamonds and expensive clothes, or cars."
"What do y' need then?" he asked.
What Ah need...is for my husband to be just a little open with me, she thought darkly.
He put his hand on her thigh gently, "y' need somethin' that money can't buy?" he asked pointedly.
"Judgin' by that girl Ah met in Louisiana, Ah'm pretty sure money can buy that," Rogue commented dryly.
"Not from me," he squeezed her thigh.
"Listen..." she drew her breath and tried to ignore that his touch had that odd way of making her think of the closet again, "we have all this to go through..."
"How am I supposed t' concentrate on this..." he pointed to the book, "I don' know the last time I sat down and read fiction..."
"Well, it's necessary," Rogue commented.
"I can't focus right now, eyes are a little tired."
"Then what are we meant to be studying?" she asked, "you can't study without lookin' at stuff, Remy."
"Maybe y' coul' read it out t' me," he suggested, "in that soft husky way y' do..."
"And do it for you?"
"No...jus'...y' know, narrate...I'll pay attention..." he promised.
Rogue eyed him, "fine..."
She began to narrate the first chapter of the book they had to read for English, at first, the task had been surprisingly easy, and she was certain he was perhaps even listening as he sat there at her side, his hand still beneath the table, gently resting on her thigh, every now and then giving a squeeze as if just to indicate he were still somewhat present. But by the tenth page, his concentration seemed to be going elsewhere, his hand slowly circling, rising up, pushing her skirt up.
"Remy..." She gasped, "not here..."
"Keep readin'," he urged.
"Are you even listenin'?"
"I'm listenin'..." he assured, his hand came up the inside of her thigh.
Rogue yelped out the next few words of the paragraph she'd been on, she tried to focus, every other word coming how shakier and shakier as his fingers pressed against the thin fabric of her pantyhose and her underwear. She tried not to instinctively slide down the chair a little. It was getting very hard to focus on the story.
"This be a marvellous lil' trainin' exercise," Remy decided when she'd stopped to take a breath, "see how much I can break y' concentration...coul' be useful somewhere in the field..."
"Ah don't see how that's gonna hel-HELP!" she gasped, his touch was right on the button, her eyes rolled back, "You need to stop..." she tried to pry his hand away.
"C'mon..."
"We could get caught..."
"Call it sexual health studies..." he breathed hotly against her ear.
"God, what is with you?" she asked, she turned to look at him, feeling feverish, trembling at his touch. He was so all over the place, just like St. Tropez. She tried to focus on what she was meant to be talking to him about, or at least the school work, it was rather tricky when she was certain she might lose control of herself at any given moment.
"I had a hard day...I need t' find some way t' relax..."
"I don't see how...thi-THIS is helping..." she swallowed hard, she slipped a little down the chair. God, someone is gonna hear me...we're gonna get caught...
"It's helpin', believe me," he rubbed at her, "keep readin'...it's turnin' me on..."
"How can Dickens turn you on..." she gasped.
"It's got the word dick in it...pretty sexy right there..." he licked his lips.
Logan had warned her about this. God, what if he walked in? Right now? What if?
"Chere!" Remy suddenly gasped; she wasn't sure what had happened at first, he'd thrown her chair back and she felt the back of her skull collide with the carpet, then she heard an all mighty crash, thumping sounds. She lay there for a moment, dazed and bewildered. Groaning, she tried to lean up from her upturned chair.
"What...what happe-" she began, she gazed up to find that the eight foot tall bookcase which had been facing the end of the table had fallen face down onto the table, the books had scattered very where. She realised looking at the mess of the cracked table that had she not been pushed by Remy, the corner of that bookcase would have cracked open her head.
Remy was on the floor, looking rather shocked.
"Oh my God," Rogue gasped, "what the hell..?!" she pulled herself up quickly, rubbing the back of her head, "what happened?! How did it tip over?!"
"It jus' did, I don' know...maybe a vibration or somethin'...poor balance..." Remy looked around, "I heard the creak and the first book was about t' fall...I had t' push y'...y' head okay?" he put his hand gently behind her head.
"Yeah..." she winced, "it just took a bump..."
The library door flew open, Logan and Jean both running in hastily, looking rather worried.
"What the hell happened?!" Logan demanded; Rogue realised at once he must have heard the almighty crash it had made.
"We don't know...the book case just tipped over on us...we barely got out of the way in time," Rogue leaned against the wall, she felt a little dazed.
"Y' sure y' okay?" Remy asked, he touched her hair gently.
"Don't touch it, it hurts..." she moved his hand away weakly, she was more worried about what Jean would think about his caring attitude towards her than the pain his touch left her with.
"Jean, take Rogue down to the sickbay...make sure Hank checks that head out...me and LeBeau will try to fix this mess..."
"Ah'm fine, it's just a bump...the rug took the brunt of it," Rogue tried feebly.
Logan looked between both Rogue and Remy suspiciously, "I don't care. Get it looked at, head injuries are nothin' to mess with."
"He's right, chere," Remy said gently, "Y' coul' have a concussion..."
"But..." Rogue tried, looking at the mess of books everywhere, the broken bits of table.
"Come on," Jean came over and took her by the elbow gently, "lets get you checked out by Hank."
Rogue unwillingly followed the redhead, she glanced over her shoulder nervously at Remy as she walked by, cradling the back of her head in her gloved hand. When they got out into the hallway, Jean was the first to speak.
"Before you ask...it wasn't me."
Rogue glanced back towards the library door as they were walking away, "is it not possible that...maybe...just maybe you...keep acccessin' your powers without meanin' to?"
"No," said Jean coolly, "I feel my powers these days, and I can't just mistakenly not notice an eight foot tall bookshelf just happens to get caught in the way of my powers...especially not one full of heavy books..."
Rogue rubbed her head, it was throbbing.
"I can feel the weight of those things with my mind...believe me, there's no way I could have accidentally pushed something that heavy over, it'd have taken real force...must have been about six hundred pounds weight of books on that shelf, there's just no way..."
Rogue stopped, "then...what? It just fell?"
"I don't know," Jean stopped too, "you ever think perhaps it is Gambit?"
"How can it be him?"
"You don't think a new power can manifest?"
"No, Ah don't," Rogue replied, "He'd know...he'd tell me."
"Maybe he doesn't tell you everything, Rogue."
The words stung, and Rogue knew why. It was because they were true.
"So explain to me how this happened?"
Remy eyed the mess of books on the floor, the table was very badly cracked at one end, splintered wood jutting out dangerously like weapons, the legs had collapsed at one end and the legs at the other end looked like they were going to give way very soon. His nerves were on fire with the shock that it could have killed the both of them; if he hadn't heard it about to happen, if he'd been just a little less aware of what was going on around him they'd both have been dead under that heavy bookcase. He'd have been crushed by the books, and Rogue's head would have been split open by the corner of it.
"We were studyin'," Remy replied, he tried to keep his voice very steady although his heart was beating frantically and it had nothing to do with the excitement of the moment with Rogue. He squatted down and started picking books up from the floor, he was certain it was the only way at this moment in time he was going to be able to hide his rather obvious protrusion.
"Studyin' what?" Logan snorted, "How to wreck a house?"
"Studyin' some stupid Dickens novel...next thing I know, book case is comin' down on us...I pushed Rogue out of the way-"
"So you saw it first," Logan realised.
"I heard the creak...there was a creakin' sound...then it jus' collapse."
Logan stared up to the bare stretch of wall the bookcase had been against, "it was secured by iron to the wall...like the rest...it should have been secure..." he awkwardly climbed up onto the collapsed bookcase, awkwardly holding himself up using the bookcase next to it to wedge himself as he tried to get a better look.
"Maybe there was rust or somethin'. Iron rusts," he pointed out.
Logan managed to get a hand on one of the wall braces and he pulled hard, "secure...not any rust that I can see, considering these fittings are probably at least a good hundred years old..."
"Maybe they need new screws."
"I don't even see the screws," Logan glanced around, expression dark.
"Maybe they broke," Remy glanced around as he continued picking up the books.
"You seem a little cagey," Logan eyed him, "Something wrong?"
"You expect me t' be anythin' but after a fuckin' bookcase nearly collapse on me and my wife," Remy threw him a look. "We're both lucky we didn' get killed."
"Your reflexes are up to par at least," Logan noted, "Look, just...leave the books, I'll get Hank up here, we'll see what we can do to fix this...hopefuly Hank has a better idea of what happened."
"Yeah," Remy sighed quietly, he stood up and placed the pile of books on the table; he'd been trying to force himself to think of things to dull his lust but the excitement and the adrenaline only seemed to be making his erection more persistent.
Remy headed towards the door, eager to escape to hide his problem; just as he had gotten to the door, Logan called out for him.
"LeBeau..."
"Hmm?"
"Didn't get a chance to ask how you've been today."
It was an odd question, Remy paused at the door, hand on the frame, "Huh?"
"How was your first day at Bayville High?"
"It was fine," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"And your training with Ororo?"
"Went perfect."
"Everything is okay?"
Remy clenched his jaw, he tried to compose himself, back turned to Logan, "everythin' is okay," he replied calmly, and with that, left the library. His nerves were shaking in his veins, his blood rushing, his thoughts racing. He hadn't needed a cigarette in a while but right then, he knew he needed that.
He walked through the hall quickly, getting to the foyer, Scott was there, heading for the rec room with Tabitha by the looks of it. He passed right by them, he was almost certain he heard Scott say hello or something of the like but he didn't respond.
It wasn't until he got to his room door that he realised he didn't even want to be in there. He was afraid of opening the door and finding Jean-Luc waiting for him.
Was it you, you son of a bitch? Remy wondered, his stomach shuddered with the thought that Jean-Luc might have almost killed him again.
He pushed the room door open a little, reaching in and flicking the light switch on first before pushing the door the rest of the way open, he stood there, gazing into his room, it was painted brightly, the walls were dry now but the smell of paint still clung to the room. Jean-Luc was nowhere to be seen, but his presence always seemed to be there somehow, like it never left him any more.
Remy wasn't sure how long how he had been standing there, it was only when he heard a voice at his back that he realised he must have been there a while.
"Are you just going to stand there all day?"
He tried not to show he was startled and he turned to look at Tabitha, she was standing twisting a curl of her blonde hair casually around her index finger, her shoulder pressed against the corner wall near his room.
"Sorry...jus'...tryin' t' remember if I forgot something..." he lied.
"Oh," Tabitha approached, "Scott asked you if you wanted to play pool and you just totally blew him off."
"Sorry, didn' hear," Remy shrugged and stepped into his room, he was about to reach for the door to close it, but Tabitha invited herself in.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yes, why?" he frowned.
"You look spooked."
That was definitely a strange way to put it, Remy realised. Spooked. Yes, he was definitely spooked. He wasn't going to let her know. "I'm fine...g' night," he gestured to the open door so she'd leave.
"Can I ask you something?" Tabitha queried.
"What?" he sighed.
"Did you, like...happen to notice a car hanging around the parking lot at the end of school today?" she asked.
Remy tilted his head, "a car...hanging in a parking lot. Hmmm...that's suspicious...in a school full of students wit' drivin' licenses and their own cars and all..." he rolled his eyes at her, but then he suddenly realised the meanness of it, suddenly realised what she had meant. "No...sorry."
"He's driving this...this beige thing...this..." Tabitha hovered near his window, she gazed outside, pushing the slats of the blind apart to see through. "This...piece of shit old car, a real bucket, you know? I...don't know, maybe he stole it or something but...I've seen it around...whenever I'm somewhere."
"I'll keep an eye out," Remy replied, "But it didn' stand out..."
"He's following me, Remy...I know he still is."
"He won't get near you, you know that."
Tabitha sighed, "sometimes...feels like...I don't know, he's haunting me or something..."
The word left a bitter taste in Remy's mouth as he repeated it, "h-hauntin' you?"
"Yeah," she grumbled, she ran her fingers absently against the windowsill, she found some dust and made a face, wiped it on her jeans and turned to him, "sometimes I think maybe...I don't know, I'm imagining it...every time I turn I think I see him lurking about..."
I know the feelin', Remy wished he could say. He held his tongue, he knew the difference between Tabitha's haunting and His.
"You ever get that feeling?" Tabitha asked, she stood there, looking at him, her turquoise eyes soft and serious.
"My...fa-I mean he...he's dead," Remy responded, it being easier than admitting anything else.
"You're lucky, then," said Tabitha, "You don't have to worry about him coming back."
He lowered his eyes, "yeah...look...y' better get out of here, y' know the rules 'bout girls and boys in the rooms t'gether alone. I don' need Logan on my case, I got enough shit goin' on."
Tabitha gave a slow nod and headed towards the door, he watched every step, the way she tried to hide her sadness with her walk and the way she flicked her hair over her shoulder. She was like him, almost exactly, hiding herself from everyone, so completely different beneath the surface. Rogue was right to worry, he realised, because he could so very easily have fallen for Tabitha if things had been only slightly different.
What if it'd been Tabitha I'd been friends wit' before Rogue...what if it'd been Tabitha I took t' Vegas an' Married...took t' the Big Easy? He wondered, not being able to help himself. He could almost picture everything, from how she'd look, how she'd sound, how happy she'd be – probably genuinely happy, not the fake happiness that Rogue had put on for show.
And then Jean-Luc would sense her weaknesses and have destroyed her, Remy realised. He wondered if he'd have made it through the same situations with Tabitha at his side as he had with Rogue.
He stood at the door and watched her walking down the hall, comparing her to Rogue. In a sense, there was no competition about beauty. Tabitha was model-like beautiful, her large turquoise eyes, her perfect eyebrows and full pouting mouth, her deep tan and soft face. Yet, he still would have chosen Rogue over her, because Rogue had something he couldn't put his finger on most of the time, Rogue with her slightly sharper features, her cleft chin and her dull green eyes, her snowy skin and her wry smile. There was sometimes the almost odd beauty about Rogue that took a certain person to appreciate; Tabitha might be model pretty, but in high fashion, it would be Rogue that would be on a catwalk in haute couture, she had the lithe figure, the height, the paleness and the features.
There was more to compare with Rogue; Tabitha was bubbly, and good natured most of the time, even in her saddest moments always seeming to be capable of putting on a smile and making the attempt to be friendly, while Rogue would be quiet, reserved and brooding. Tabitha was honest, she came out with things, she spoke out her thoughts while Rogue tended to keep things bottled up.
Although he felt guilty for thinking it, he could imagine how Tabitha would be in bed; he'd heard things about her and he was able to suss some of it himself. Her boldness, the way she behaved, she was daring and adventurous and she didn't shy easily from certain things. He could think of a thousand different things that girl would do with him without shame or a thought to consequence, while Rogue and he were still struggling to try and connect in the way he'd hoped they they would since he'd first realised he loved her.
And there was the final comparison he had to make between Tabitha and Rogue. He loved Rogue, and Tabitha, he only liked, perhaps slightly cared for. He wanted Rogue, but Tabitha...he didn't. Even though he could certainly imagine it, he didn't necessarily want it.
That's how I know wit' Rogue it's real, he realised, he shut his door quietly and stood against it. I don' want anyone else...
A quiet knock came at his door just as he was thinking of perhaps trying to have a very early night. He almost expected it to be Tabitha, and caught himself from asking 'what now'. He moved to the door and opened it, Rogue stood there, a book in her hand.
"Chere..."
"Ah went back to the library to see if you were there...but Logan was there alone cleaning up the mess..."
"Yeah, Logan said go...so I went," Remy reached out to her and put his hand gently behind her head, touching her silken hair so gently, almost afraid of hurting her but so unable to keep himself from just touching her somehow. "How's y' head?"
"It's...just a bump...no concussion as far as Hank can tell..."
"Good..."
"Ah brought the book..." she held out A Tale of Two Cities to him. "Here..."
He took it from her, making sure to let their fingers touch, the suede of her gloves was so incredibly soft; he wondered what the flesh was like beneath it.
"Y'...wan' come in?" he asked.
"Ah...shouldn't..." she pointed out.
"Logan is in the library tryin' t' fix the mess..." he pointed out, "We...don' need t' do anythin'...can leave the door open if y' like..." he murmured.
"Okay," she agreed, stepping in to the room and following him, the door was left open, he didn't even care any more.
They sat together on the mattress, "shall Ah continue readin' from where we left off?"
"Yeah," he said, stretching out on the mattress, his calf pressed against her thigh a little, the touch so innocent yet just enough to make him feel connected to her, to feel her presence, for it to take away the looming feeling of Jean-Luc lurking close by. As she began reading, he felt himself beginning to drift; he couldn't focus on the story, but neither could he focus on anything else because the constant narration was so distracting from anything else. He watched her face become a blur in his exhaustion until he finally closed his eyes and let her soft husky voice lull him into sleep.
End of Part Nineteen
Sorry didn't get the chance to put down a mid week up date, have been doing a lot of writing this week which makes it harder to find time to edit and upload a new part (just finished part 37 so we're getting along fairly well). To answer the question how long the story will last, I can't say. Not indefinitely, but at this point I don't know how many more parts I'll be writing out as there's still things I have to cover. It could be six, could be twelve, it's hard to say until I write it all down.
As always thanks for the super sweet reviews. Re: the question about Tabitha giving oral to some boy before arriving to the van and asking for gum, only Tabitha probably knows the answer to that one, lol.
I'm still so blown away by the shifting of camps by you all, sometimes you're more in agreement with Remy, sometimes more with Rogue, sometimes defending Tabitha, and then mad at her behaviour. It's interesting how quickly opinions change from chapter to chapter (makes this so much fun to write). I'm sure there's going to be a few interesting reactions and shifting of opinions in the next ten or so parts that come, lol. Hang onto your seats, there's definitely a lot of drama coming ;)
Anyway, hoping to get the next chapter up verrrrrry soon, hope you all enjoy and have a super weekend. You all rock, :)