Author's Notes: You know that place, where... you know exactly what you want to write, you know what you want everyone to say, but the words just don't sound right so you stop and start over a hundred times? That's me and Fall Into These Arms. So, while I battle with that, here's some more of this. I called this an outtake, because it isn't Romy-themed, exactly. But it does feature our favorite Cajun and more of me using very little of my own imagination. Heh. P.S. I wrote this like 5 or 6 years ago. Better late than never?
Four Times the Library Didn't Bring Rogue and Remy Together, and One Time It Did
Appendix A - Other People
Where the hallway started and where it ended was indeterminable. What was plain was that money and time had both been spent – in sinful amounts – to allow for its construction. Remy had a thief's eye, trained for quality, and there wasn't anything between the rug underfoot and the chain of chandeliers above his head that he would not have stolen, given the opportunity. He smiled politely at the man leading him, digging a moment through his memory for the any utterance of the valet's name.
His eyes lit. "Monsieur Sartre."
That was it exactly. The man paused, turning to stare blankly at Remy.
After a brief, uncomfortable silence during which he gathered his wits, Remy said, "De tour is grand. Don't get me wrong. But… it might go even better if I could get some answers. One moment I was on a job – rudely confronted by a character calling his self Mephisto, if dat rings any bells – and de next, I'm waking up at de Hilton." Wetting his bottom lip with the slide of his tongue, he added, "You can see how a man might be… confused."
"Yes, Mr. LeBeau."
"Maybe if we start from de beginning."
The valet almost smiled. "Sir, I think you'll find you've already reached the end." Before Remy had a chance to question that cryptic bit of commentary, Sartre turned to their nearest door, grasped onto the handle, and gave it a solid tug. It opened without a squeak or creak, though it gave the illusion of being nearly too heavy for the slim valet to manage. He did, however, and with a slight bow, indicated that Remy should precede him.
"Is it too late t' ask what's behind door number two?"
The valet said, "This is where you're supposed to be, Sir. No mistake about it."
He hesitated, but there was air of inevitability that hung like a cloud around him, pushed at the small of his back like an invisible hand to move him forward. He cast one last, long look at Sartre and realized something that had not been obvious before: the man never blinked. His eyes were always open, endlessly seeing, peering down the maze of rooms, the hallway without end. Remy was suddenly glad to be leaving the man behind, at least for a while.
The room within was dim, the decor was intricate and the large, comfortable-looking chairs which centered the space were… not entirely empty. The occupants of one turned at the sound of him, revealing herself to be a familiar acquaintance.
"Like, is that Gambit? Like, oh my God, thank goodness someone else is here. Things have been getting so totally boring. You can only paint your toenails pink, for like, so many times before the fun starts to fade. Oh, maybe we can paint yours! I can already tell you're going to be like, way funner than Blob here."
And beside her, Fred turned his head and greeted Remy with a loud burp that left the smell of onions and old grease hanging in the air. "You bring any food?"
Remy snapped back to catch the door before Sartre closed it, but he was too late. The entrance was shut, and Remy couldn't help but notice with wide, dismayed eyes that there was no handle on the inside. No way out.
No exit.
I'm just gonna keep ending every update to this with, "Poor Remy. What have I done." Ah, well. Anyway, I cited the inspiration in more ways than one, but for the sake of being absolutely clear: No Exit, by Jean-Paul Sartre is what this little bit was based on. Because nothing says yay like taking one of the great pieces of existentialism and mucking it up with questionably written fanfic.
You should probably leave a review! I think that would be a good idea!