{Author's Note: To all the Remy/Peter shippers out there, settle down. Sadly for you and Remy, I don't write romances, but that won't stop Remy from being a flirt.}
Peter spun himself in lazy circles in his chair at the desk he hardly used. He'd shut himself in his room after his chat with Scott, not because he was particularly annoyed or upset by the discussion. It had gone better than their last conversation at least, which wasn't hard given that that conversation had ended with Peter in the hospital, though, to be fair, that hadn't been Scott's fault.
He was trying to read some book about a family of aliens—or a family who thought they were aliens?—that was probably supposed to be an allegory for something, but if it was, he wasn't getting it. Hank would get it. And Charles.
Erik probably would too.
A knock at Peter's door gave him an excuse to drop the book back on his desk and abandon his short-lived attempt to expand his mind.
Peter zipped over to the door, shuddering as a spasm of pain ran through his body; the source of which he could not completely pinpoint. It might have been ripples of the lingering spike to his gut, or maybe he was just hungry?
Over the years, he'd become so used to being in various states of discomfort that sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between pain and hunger.
He let the spasm subside, and then he opened his bedroom door and a wave of cheesy deliciousness assaulted his nostrils so thoroughly that his brain failed to immediately identify his visitor, and the responding growl from his stomach told him that the pain in his abdomen was indeed at least partly due to hunger.
"Um. Hi?" Peter said, finally looking beyond the stack of pizza boxes and their delicious aroma once he had regained his sense of self to face his visitor.
"Pete-er!" His unexpected guest greeted, grinning like they were old friends. "Wasn't sure you would respond. Thought the pizza might help though."
"Right . . . . uh are you offering me pizza? Is delivering food something you usually do when you stay here?" Peter asked, still a bit taken aback by his visitor who continued to smile kindly at him. Its continued presence set his own teeth on edge. Unless Peter was deliberating cracking jokes, people's grins tended not to last too long around him, or at least if they did, they were much crueler.
"Yes to the former. No to the latter. Remy likes to think of this as a special treat." Remy replied with a wink. "So, are you interested . . . in the pizza?"
Peter wondered if his face looked as confused as he felt by the random gesture. "I—did my—did Erik send you?"
At the question, Remy gave a full-throated laugh, which had Peter predicting his answer before he voiced his response. "Non. Definitely not. This is all Remy."
"Oh. Okay." Said Peter with a frown, still very baffled. "I guess I'll take some if you're sharing. You can just set a box down anywhere, or—er—I can just take a couple of slices." Peter added, stepping back and gesturing to his room. Remy seemed like kind of a weird guy, but not weird enough to poison pizza, so he saw no reason to turn down free food. Plus, Peter had already accepted food from him before, even if not face to face, and he hadn't keeled over from it yet. Come to mention it, he should probably thank Remy for sparing him from an endless bowl of protein bars, but it felt awkward to bring it up now.
Remy smiled a bit deviously, glancing into the room a little wistfully. "Best not, Pete-er . . . This is more of an eat and train kind of offer. Thought you might want to learn to throw cards."
"Like, greeting cards?" Peter questioned, not aware that was a pastime.
Remy chuckled. "Non. Un jeu de cartes, mon as de pique. A deck of cards. It is what you might call Remy's spécialité."
"Oh." said Peter, embarrassed now and still confused. "You want to teach me how to throw cards? Why?"
Remy cleared his throat, for a moment, Peter thought the man's seemingly endless pool of confidence had run dry, but he must have imagined it because a second later his grin was back in full force as he shrugged. "It's fun, and Pete-er, you seem like you could use some fun. Remy of course offered the same to your friends, so we would have comp-any."
Peter hesitated, fingers tapping behind his bedroom door where Remy couldn't see. "Alright. I mean, I am hungry, so sure. Let's throw cards." Hopefully, Scott wasn't among the "friends" Remy had mentioned or they might throw hands in addition to throwing cards.
According to Remy, throwing cards was not an indoor activity, so Peter followed the other man outdoors, or, he tried to but the moment Peter fell even a step behind, Remy slowed his gait to match Peter's. Obviously, Peter could have easily passed the other mutant, but he had been trying to put his dad's lessons into practice to keep his eyes on potential threats. Not that he thought Remy was threatening exactly, but still, he was trying to be more aware of who was at his back or by his side since his father's unsolicited lecture. Unfortunately, Remy wasn't making it very easy to practice that particular skill.
During their walk Peter learned that Remy was from New Orleans, and when Peter responded that he'd never been, he suddenly had an invitation for a personal escort to Mardi Gras.
"So where are you from, mon ami?" Remy asked as they walked.
"D.C. mostly." Peter answered because it was easier. It was always the easier answer, the less complicated and less foreign one.
"Mostly's not all." Remy countered.
"Yea well . . . it's what I remember most. Before the States we moved around a lot—in Poland mainly. But it was a long time ago. I was just a kid." Peter replied, kicking a pebble absentmindedly that had found its way into his path.
"That explains it then. Remy knew you couldn't be an all American boy." Remy replied, a grin creeping onto his face again.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter asked, a bit defensive, to use to growing up with people making fun of his accent and worried he'd let it slip back into his speech unintentionally.
"Just that you're . . . interesting is all." Remy said casually, clasping his hands behind his back for a moment as they walked.
"O-kay." Peter replied uncertainly as Remy stared at him a bit longer, his head tilted slightly.
"What?" Peter asked, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder in case he was actually staring at something behind him.
"Nothin' nothin'. Remy's just admiring . . . your Walkman." Remy said at last gesturing to the device on Peter's hip.
"Oh. Thanks. Yea it's getting a little worn out, but it does its job alright." Peter said with a shrug, running his fingers over it as if to ensure himself that it was still tethered firmly to his hip despite the music still playing in one ear.
"What are you listening to?" Remy asked as they continued their walk.
"Redbone, currently." Peter replied, not expecting him to recognize the band.
Remy's lip twitched, and then said "Let me guess . . ." he took a breath and then sang—pretty decently—a stanza, echoing the song playing, "Hail, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine, and you're mine, and you look so divine."
"Yep that one." Said Peter, a bit impressed at the other man's ability to guess the song and his singing prowess.
"Good choice." Remy said, nodding along and putting a little spring in his step as if he could hear the song, even though Peter hadn't offered his other earbud.
"Thanks. I think so too."
Not sure who Remy had meant by "friends" Peter was pleasantly surprised to see Jubilee and Ororo waiting for them by the pond, mainly because Scott wasn't among them.
"Oh good. You're here!" said Jubilee, completely sincere in her exuberance, popping up from where she was lounging on the grass. "Any longer and Ororo was going to bail. She gets hangry."
The white-haired girl in question leaned casually against a nearby tree, filing her nails—possibly into points—and barely looked up as they approached. "I was promised pizza. If there wasn't going to be pizza, I would've had to go find pizza. . . . and then plot my revenge on those who lied about there being pizza."
"Understandable." Peter nodded, respecting any quest for pizza and the seriousness of a promise of food.
"If Remy promises pizza. Remy delivers pizza. Remy doesn't break a promise. Remember that, Peter." Said Remy, grinning again at Peter for some reason and bumping his shoulder nonchalantly, before lifting the boxes a little in his arms. They wobbled precariously, and in fear of their safety, Peter reached out to take them from the other man.
"Ah merci. Such a gentleman." Said Remy, as Peter set the boxes down on a nearby bench. Ororo followed and immediately grabbed a slice from the top box.
"Désolée. Sorry. For the delay. Took a while to convince this one to come." Remy said, jerking his thumb back at Peter.
"Oh. I was sure the pizza would help convince you." Said Jubilee through a mouthful, also helping herself to a slice.
"It did." Said Peter, though—as much as he wanted to—Peter didn't rush the boxes like the girls had. Remy had said they were going to learn how to throw cards, and he didn't feel like it would be very polite to get pizza sauce all over a deck of cards, plus he wanted to make sure everyone had had their fill before he dug in too, so he shoved his hands in his pockets instead and stood awkwardly watching the girls eat.
"Thanks for this, by the way, Mr. LeBeau." Said Jubilee, as she took a bite.
"De rien. And none of that. It's Remy. Or handsome devil. None of this 'Mr. LeBeau.' Let's not bring my father into this."
"Thanks then Remy!" Said Jubilee, happily digging into her pizza, oblivious to any daddy issues the grown man had hinted at.
"So!" Said Remy, clapping his hands together. "Peter, pizza first then Remy will teach you d'art of throwing cards, yes?"
"Um, let's do the card throwing first. Teach away." Peter answered, his fingers on one hand tapping away rapidly in his pocket.
"Eager! And polite. Parfait." Said Remy, grinning again. "But are you sure? Cards don't get cold. Not on Remy's watch, not like pizza."
"Yea it's fine. Might as well work up an appetite." Peter replied, willing himself to not look longingly over at the pizza.
"Very well. It is quite facile—easy." Remy began, pulling a deck of cards from the pocket of his duster and flipping a single card up out of the deck and into his other hand. Even in superspeed, it was an impressive move. "You take zee card between these two fingers, yes. The pointer and the F.U. finger. At an angle, see? Anchor with the thumb, and then you simply. . ."
Remy trailed off in favor of a visual demonstration, flicking the card at such a speed that it flew through the air as if that was its main purpose and lodged itself into the center of the bow and arrow target yards away.
"Wow!" Jubilee exclaimed in delight, while Ororo merely did three slow claps and then went back in for another slice of pizza, not nearly as impressed as her friend.
"You see? Simple! Peter, you try now. Oui?" Remy said, excitedly, ushering Peter forward.
Fairly certain he would not be able to replicate the same act, but nonetheless willing to try, Peter stepped up next to the older mutant. "Sure, man. Really simple, but yea I'll try."
At his response, Remy flipped another card from the deck into his opposite hand and held it out to him obligingly.
A little bit nervous that he was going to embarrass himself—not that he hadn't already done so to a great degree during the time he'd been at the school—Peter hesitated a fraction of a second before reaching out to grab the offered card, but as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the edge of the card, there was a flash of purple and jolt went through his hand precisely where it connected with the card.
"Ah!" Peter exclaimed, pulling his hand back, more in shock than in pain, for it hadn't really hurt. It had felt distinctly like static electricity, more than what you might get if you shuffled your feet along carpet and then poked a sibling say, but nothing powerful enough to make him think he'd really been electrocuted, though he had the distinct feeling that the charge had been enough to make his hair stand up on his head a bit. "What was that?!" Peter asked with a frown, feeling a little betrayed and brushing his hair down self-consciously with one hand.
"Oh nothing." Remy said, smiling mischievously, and for a moment, Peter thought he saw a flash of red in his eyes. "That was just Remy, luv. He won't do it again. Promise."
Peter eyed him warily, but, remembering what the other mutant had just said about his promises, he reached for the card once again. And, just as he said, that time nothing happened.
"A Jack for you, Peter." Remy said, nodding at the card in his hands, which was indeed a Jack of Hearts. "Not the top card in a lot of games, but in a few—the best ones—it beats any other."
"O-kay. I'm sure that'll help with the throwing part." Said Peter, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
"It won't hurt." Remy replied with a relaxed shrug.
Peter, let out a breath, resisted an eye roll, and turned to face the target, and then . . . he let the card fly.
Or he attempted to because it twisted in the air and fluttered sadly in front of his feet a few feet away.
Remy chuckled and the girls broke into giggles at his failure, but surprisingly, rather than letting embarrassment over take him, Peter joined in the laughter too, perhaps because there was clearly no malice behind it, and for a moment, he really did feel like he was among friends.
"I'd liked to see you guys do better!" Peter called jokingly at the girls.
"And I think the rest of us would definitely like to see you try again." Ororo replied with a rare grin.
"That's what I thought." Said Peter, turning back to Remy, who stood with his hand in his pockets, watching the exchange with curious interest.
"Alright not an immediate prodigy at card throwing, but not everyone can be as good as Remy. No matter, Remy knows you'll get the hang of it quicker than most with a 'lil more personal assistance." Said Remy, pulling out another card again, this time flicking it behind his back and into his other hand.
"If you say so." Said Peter, not convinced.
"Remy does. Now, give it a little more oomph. It's not a crime to use your assets! Don't be afraid to give it o' touch more speed." Remy instructed, throwing another card, which once again landed nearly dead center of the target.
Peter snorted, "Now you sound like my dad." Peter said, not knowing Remy knew exactly who Peter's father was.
"Interesting." Remy said with a smile. "Remy'll tuck that bit o' knowledge away for later."
"Uh okay. So just throw it harder?" Peter asked, refocusing his attention to the task at hand.
"Exactement. And extend your fingers all the way through." Said Remy, showing him the motion again.
"Okay." Said Peter, positioning his hands carefully again, determined to succeed as Remy nodded encouragingly. Once his fingers were appropriately arranged, Peter curled his fingers and the card in toward his body and then he let it fly.
He tried not to overdo it. Obviously, he could pack some serious speed into any object he threw, but he wasn't trying to murder anybody, just make the card fly through the air like Remy's had. But even though he attempted to replicate the same level of speed that Remy had used, when the card left his hand, he knew he'd messed up.
The card rocketed through the air, soaring wide of the target and flying well past it into the woods, but hey, at least it hadn't fluttered pitifully down in front of him like the first one.
"Phwwwwwht." Remy whistled. "Not bad. Not bad at all if you've got a full deck to work with and just want to take some people out. But still, it might be useful to ahh draw it back just a little, in case you're low on resources and need to hit a specific target."
"You got this Peter!" Jubilee cheered as Ororo gave a thumbs up.
Peter wasn't sure when he would ever need to take anyone out with cards, duct tape was much preferable because if he used enough, he knew they would be down for a while, but he only nodded and blew out a breathe of concentration, and then he sent the card soaring.
The third time, the card lodged itself in the target just below Remy's. Not at the center, but still, it was on the board.
"Nice." Said Ororo coolly.
"Whoo! Amazing job, Pete." Jubilee exclaimed, throwing off a few sparks.
"Thanks." Peter replied, allowing himself a small smile.
"Well done mon ami." Said Remy patting Peter on the shoulder with a smile of his own before his face grew more serious and he said, "Now do it again."
Half a deck later, Peter had really gotten the hang of the card throwing, and he was actually finding it to be a pretty relaxing activity. He suspected that his powers had a lot to do with his new found skill, but whatever. He'd take the win.
By that time, the girls had had their fill of pizza and were ready to try, so Peter sent one more card flying, it wasn't his best throw, but it still hit the edge of the target and stuck. Then he handed the rest of the deck back to Remy, and went to get himself some pizza before his stomach ate him from the inside out.
Not wanting to waste energy rearranging the pizza boxes that at some point had taken over the entire bench, Peter chose to sit down on the ground and watched Remy give Ororo and Jubilee the same instructions he had given him.
Surprisingly, Remy only spent a few minutes with them before he let the girls fling the cards to their hearts' desire, and instead of correcting their obviously poor technique, he came over to join Peter.
Peter expected Remy to move the nearly-empty pizza boxes so he could sit on the bench like an adult, but instead he plopped down next to Peter on the ground as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Once on the ground, Remy reached into the inner pocket of his duster. Peter thought he would pull out another deck of cards, but he came back with a packet of cigarettes instead.
"You mind?" Remy asked, holding the pack unopened in his hand, waiting patiently for his answer.
He did, a bit. Peter never saw the point of frying his lungs, especially if the end result wasn't going to leave him even a little bit calmer. And he certainly didn't care to smell like he'd spent the night in a bar, but they were outside and Remy didn't smell like smoke, so he must be one of those rare individuals that could keep the smoke wafting anywhere but on him. Plus, the guy had just taught him a pretty cool skill, even if Peter would never use it for more than a party trick, so Peter shook his head.
Besides, as much as the other man didn't seem to understand personal boundaries, he didn't think he'd intentionally blow the smoke in his face.
"Much obliged." Remy said with a nod, lighting up the cigarette and taking a drag. "What about you? Want one, mon lapin?"
"No. Thanks." Peter replied, not bothering to ask what the French term meant. He'd been throwing them around all evening in addition to the cards. But then, after a beat because he just couldn't help himself. "That stuff will kill you, you know?"
"Non. These little things? They won't." Said Remy shaking his head confidently with a grin. "Someone will kill Remy long before these do."
Peter huffed out a small chuckle, the statement half-tempting him to give one a try too. "Maybe I should have one then 'cause I'm sure the same will apply to me."
"You? Non. Whose gonna catch you?" Remy asked, returning the cigarette pack to his pocket, not entertaining Peter's half-hearted request. Clearly the man wasn't privy to the Peter's recent kidnapping at the hands of the U.S. military off-shoot, or he'd probably have a different perspective.
"You'd be surprised." Peter answered with a shrug.
"You suspect someone?" Remy asked earnestly. "Just point them out. Remy'll take care of them for ya."
"No—nah—just being realistic. No one's invincible. Especially not me. I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital if I were." Peter added, inadvertently rubbing his side where he'd been impaled.
"Hmmm. Remy thinks you just need someone watching your back." Remy replied thoughtfully, pulling out another deck of cards—he must carry about five at a time—from his coat's endless pockets. Holding the cigarette in his mouth, he separated one card from the deck, and held it alone in one hand. A moment later, Remy's fingertips glowed with that same reddish purple he'd seen before, and then, as if with a lifetime of practiced ease, he flicked the card at a tree about ten yards away and in the opposite direction of the girls who were so absorbed in their own shenanigans that the school could've blown up again, and they wouldn't have noticed. It hit the center of the tree with a crack, letting out a flash of deep purple and leaving the trunk charred and partly sliced down the middle.
Peter tensed at the collision, and looked over at the other man, meeting a pair of glowing red eyes. Guess he hadn't imagined the hue before. They were a different shade than the pair that Peter had recently been trying to purge from his mind, so they didn't disturb him in the same way, but he wasn't about to support the unnecessary destruction of plant life.
"Your powers are cool, man. But what did the tree ever do to you?"
"Don't fret, Mercure." Remy paused as if waiting to see if Peter would call him out for the nickname or object to it, which he could pretty easily translate this time.
Peter decided to let it slide.
"It was already dying." Remy continued. "One of the little scoundrels accidentally poisoned it at récréation yesterday."
Peter wondered if that was true, or if Remy just didn't want him to feel bad about it. But, for some reason, he believed him.
"If you say so." Peter replied, turning his eyes back to where Jubilee and Ororo practiced their card throwing.
Remy's eyes followed, finally calling out a couple of instructions to the girls, who were not doing even half as well as Peter. Ororo was better than Jubilee, but that wasn't saying much. However, neither seemed to care that they were failing, nor that Remy was not being nearly as attentive to them as he had with Peter.
"What's going on in that head of yours?" Remy asked when he turned his attention back to Peter, tilting his own head to the side.
"Not much." Peter replied, glancing at Remy before turning his attention back on the girls when the other man's gaze was too intense. "Half the time it's just white noise."
"Remy highly doubts that. Bet there are lots of fascinating thoughts whirling around in there. Wishes. Hopes . . . . Desires. Dreams. "
"I don't dream." Said Peter with a frown on his face and without thinking. But since he'd said it—even though Remy likely hadn't meant it in the literal sense that Peter taken it to mean—he added after a moment's hesitation because it wasn't something he typically shared. "I don't sleep."
"Non?" Remy looked at him, pondering.
"None. I used to. Before I got my powers. But not anymore. Never anymore." Peter said
bitterly. No matter how tired I am.
"You are sad about this?" It wasn't rude, the question. Just curious.
"Yea. I guess." Peter shrugged halfheartedly. "I know some people would think it'd be nice to have the extra time. But I've got enough time. Too much, sometimes."
Remy sat silently, taking in Peter's reply. "Then mes profondes condoléances. It is difficult to be without something we miss."
Peter nodded, but didn't feel the need to comment further.
"But perhaps you do not sleep anymore because you're already awake."
"What?" Peter asked, not really paying attention at first as he watched Ororo try to keep a card afloat with a gust of wind. "I don't sleep at all. Ever. I don't shut down. I'm always awake."
"Remy comprend. What Remy means is, perhaps you already see what others don't. So there's no need for you to dream. So no need to sleep. You see?" Remy replied simply.
"Uhh not really. And I don't think that's it." Peter replied. Peter thought he was an oddball, but Remy was starting to make even Peter look sane.
"Maybe not. Just Remy's theory." He said, pirouetting a card between his fingers.
"O-kay then." Peter replied, a bit mesmerized as Remy twirled the card faster within his hand.
They watched the girls mess around with the cards for a little longer before joining them again, and eventually seeing if they could hit another card out of the air, Remy could, the girls could not, and Peter only managed it a few times.
Despite the weird conversation, Peter had had a good time. Throwing cards. Hanging with the others. It kept his mind distracted, keeping his hands busy.
As the sunset, he hardly noticed anything beyond their little bubble.
So if he happened to see a bit of red reflected on the still surface of the pond that had nothing to do with Remy's eyes or the cards being thrown around, well, it was almost easy for Peter to pretend it was simply the colors of the setting of the sun reflecting back at them, rather than the face of a woman looking out, as if beneath the surface, like a lady in the lake, waiting to pull him under.
{Author's Note: Remy was fun to write but difficult too. For anyone that cares, here's a short scene that didn't make the cut:
Remy: "Wanna throw cards?"
Peter: "With who?"
Remy: *exaggeratedly looks behind himself* "Remy of course."
Also, random question: Should I watch X-Men '97 if I've never seen the original cartoon? Would that be stupid?}