Is This Love...?
Part 1
Preparation
Rogue stared unhappily at Jean Grey from where she sat on the ottoman, her head in her hands, elbows propped on her knees. Jean was standing on a stool with two women at her feet making final alterations to the wedding dress. The garment's tiny beads sparkled in the bright white lights of the chic wedding boutique. In the four large curved mirrors, Rogue could see nearly every angle of Jean Grey in reflection, her long red hair messily pinned up, her eyelash extensions – only just applied that morning – fluttering at the sight of her own reflection.
It was all there in Jean's face, the dream becoming reality, the hope and excitement, the smile as Jean could imagine the final time she'd wear the dress and walk down the aisle towards Scott Summers and start her new future with him. Rogue hated that even after all this time, seeing that on the woman's face hurt like pouring acid into a raw open wound.
"It looks amazing, Jean," Kitty Pryde said enthusiastically; she was standing not far from Jean, observing the seamstresses who were pinning the hem of the dress below Jean. "Like, I don't think I've ever seen a more gorgeous dress in my life."
Rogue threw a look towards Kitty. Kitty had been Jean's biggest cheerleader as of late, but then, she was also the maid of honour. Kitty was standing with a flute of complimentary champagne in her hand, observing the redhead. Kitty was genuinely happy for Jean, and Rogue envied that. She envied Kitty's unwavering ability to just be happy for anyone, even when her own love life as of late was so non-existent. Part of Rogue was certain that it had to be feigned. Surely Kitty could not be as happy as she made out she was, she had to be just a little jealous...just a little bitter.
Jean glanced towards Kitty's reflection in the mirror to her left, "I really need to see the bridesmaids dresses one more time – that way there's time for any last minute adjustments," she said, "I want everything to be perfect and for you all to look your best."
Rogue winced. She hated these fittings, she'd been to three in the last month already. She hadn't even wanted to be a bridesmaid at all; when Jean had asked her she'd thought it was some kind of joke, she'd considered throwing it back in her face with an insult. But it hadn't been a joke, the girl had been serious...and Rogue still didn't understand why she'd insisted on having her a bridesmaid.
Ah'd have rather not been at the wedding at all, Rogue despaired.
It was still too hard to get used to the fact that in just two days, Jean Grey was going to be Jean Summers.
Rogue sighed and glanced towards one of the staff girls who picked a garment bag from the rail nearby and held it out to her.
"Do we have to?" Rogue sighed as she brushed a gloved finger against the corner of her eye; her own eyelash extensions were itching and uncomfortable, and she was so heavily aware of them every time she blinked.
It was barely three pm but it already felt like it'd been a long day. The eyelash extension appointment of two hours, the spray tan appointment she'd been bullied into getting by Kitty so that she'd 'look right' in the wedding photos, then being pushed into getting a pedicure she was certain she wouldn't even need because her bridesmaid stress was incredibly long and no one would remotely see her toes – it had all taken it's toll on Rogue. She'd been touched far more than she safely liked to be, even if it was with sterile gloves. She didn't really relish the idea of more physical contact – she was starting to feel very overwhelmed, afraid any minute there, there was going to be an accident and she'd have to live with the memory and humiliation of that for the rest of her life.
"Yes," Kitty huffed, "go on."
Rogue sighed and got up, taking the garment bag from the staff girl and she went behind the curtains of one of the changing booths to change. She hated the look of her own reflection, her hair messily hanging around her shoulders, out of shape and needing a hair cut. She tucked her hair behind her ear and took a deep breath as she began undressing, eyeing her spray tanned skin critically. "This tan looks so bogus on me," she complained.
Kitty was nearby on the other side of the curtain, "it looks fine. They got the shade perfect for you. Once your makeup is done by the makeup artist on Saturday, it'll look incredible, trust me."
Rogue winced, "Ah told you Ah'll do my own makeup."
"No, everyone gets it done by a makeup artist, you know that," Kitty muttered.
Rogue hung her hooded sweatshirt, t-shirt and jeans up and she unzipped the garment bag, looking at the royal purple gown. It wasn't anything close to what she'd have picked for herself if she'd had the choice, but she was thankful at least the gown wasn't pink or peach or a pastel shade.
It was hard to not stand there for several minutes just eyeing the dress unhappily and acknowledging everything that it represented.
Rogue sat down on the small stool in the changing booth, she ran her hand through her hair. She felt her anxiety rising at the idea of all of this, at the idea of having to stand there and watch the spectacle. The idea of having to actually participate in it.
Just two more days and then they'll be gone for a month on honeymoon and you won't have to look at them for a while, Rogue supposed, looking up at the dress miserably. Two more days. You can do this...
"What's taking so long?" Kitty demanded, "I've already changed."
"Sorry, just bein' careful. Pulled a shoulder muscle in the Danger Room yesterday."
"Hurry up," Kitty urged.
Rogue rolled her eyes at Kitty from behind the curtain and removed the corset piece from where it was hanging behind the dress. She shed her bra and frowned at her almost completely nude body in the mirror. She hoped the lines where her strapless bra had been for the spray tan weren't going to show. Kitty had warned her to go topless, but Rogue had been reluctant to let anyone see her that exposed. She'd been reluctant to even be that nude near anyone – she'd never been that nude in front of anyone before. She'd felt tense all day thinking of this wedding and how even with the wrap that went around her shoulders, she might have too much skin exposed to be safe near anyone at the wedding.
Wish Kitty would have let me just say no to bein' bridesmaid, Rogue thought as she wrapped the corset around herself and clasped it. She reached behind herself and started adjusting the laces to tighten it around her frame. Ah really don't want to stand there and pretend to be happy for the girl who's marryin' the guy Ah've loved since Ah first met him.
Rogue wished she'd not let herself be bullied into being part of the wedding, wished she'd decided to take a convenient vacation instead. But it hadn't only been Kitty who'd been pushing her into being part of the wedding, it'd been Logan, it'd been the Professor, it'd been Scott, everyone had wanted her to be there.
Should have just said no and stuck to your guns, Rogue secured the laces and tied them, then got into the dress awkwardly in the small space. She saw at her feet a box being pushed beneath the curtain.
"Shoes," Kitty commanded.
Rogue frowned, "You're takin' this maid of honour thing a bit too far," she muttered.
"I promised Jean I'd make sure everyone looked perfect," Kitty remarked.
"How come Jubilee and Tabitha didn't have to come to this fittin'?" Rogue asked as she zipped the dress up and took the sheer sparkling wrap from the garment bag and she pulled it around her shoulders. She took the very high satin stilettos from the box and she put them on her bare feet, eyeing her painted pink toenails with disdain.
"They did their last fitting yesterday when they went for lunch with Jean's sister," Kitty replied, "Are you done?"
"Yeah," Rogue pulled the curtain and stepped out, finding it hard to walk in the stilettos on the thick carpeting. She moved to the curved mirror, Jean had already come down and had already gone to change from her dress. She examined herself from all angles at the mirror as one of the seamstresses stood at her back adjusting the fit, the other down at her feet adjusting the hem.
"Be careful you don't touch her skin," Kitty warned.
Rogue felt her heart sinking. Even needing to constantly remind people to be careful was painful.
"I got us gloves to wear with the dresses – but they're at the mansion, I forgot to bring them," Kitty approached, she was in her own dress, although her fit was perfect and seemed to need no alteration. Kitty looked superb in hers, it made her look taller, and slimmer, although the heels she was wearing definitely helped.
"Ugh, wish I could get a boob job between now and Saturday," Kitty pushed her bust a little although there was little fat to redistribute at the front of the dress.
"Yeah, Ah don't think that's gonna happen," Rogue winced as the seamstress at her back unzipped her dress and tightened the laces on the corset.
"Maybe I'll get some of those cutlet things, try and fill it out," Kitty turned and looked at Rogue, "you're okay...you've got plenty to fill that thing with."
"Ah don't like havin' this on show," Rogue reminded, glancing down at the bulging of her spray tanned breasts.
"It looks fine," Kitty said, "You've got the figure, you should show it off more."
"For who?" Rogue snorted.
Jean came out from the dressing room in her pink Summer dress, her hair was still tied up in a messy bun, "for yourself. For confidence. When you're up there wearing that dress with that shape, there won't be a guy at the wedding who'll be able to tear his eyes off of you," she smiled, picking up a glass of champagne from the tray on the table.
"Logan and the Professor are gonna be at that weddin'..." Rogue reminded, "And Ah don't want them lookin' at me that way."
"Ew," Kitty made a face at her own reflection, "way to kill the mood."
"Who's all invited, anyway?" Rogue asked, she glanced over her shoulder at Jean.
"Too many to name them all," Jean rubbed her head, "my family, Scott's family, many friends we've met over the years. The Professor asked that I invite Magneto..."
"Ew, Magneto?" Kitty groaned.
"Magneto can be civil," Jean said, "for a day or so."
"It's weird though. I mean...why invite your enemy to a wedding?" Kitty frowned.
"You'd need to ask the Professor. But I trust his judgement. If he thinks Magneto is going to be a good guest then...he's welcome. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'm assuming he's coming without his helmet, and without his helmet, he's susceptible to control."
"Hope so," Kitty got confirmation from the seamstress her dress didn't need any alterations and she went to change back into her t-shirt and skirt again.
"Are your parents coming?" Jean asked of Kitty.
"Yeah, my mom just text me a few minutes ago to say they're booked at the Holiday Inn in town," Kitty called from behind the curtains, Rogue could hear her unzipping the dress. "After this, I'm going to go meet them and catch up, have dinner with them."
Rogue envied Kitty that, having parents, having relatives – blood ones – to meet with, to catch up with, to go to dinner with. There was a time years ago she'd have thought the concept to be quite lame and almost...humiliating. Now, she yearned for that kind of connection with anyone.
"And your plus one?" Jean asked.
"I asked Lance but...he never got back to me," Kitty gave a meek shrug, her expression changed.
"His loss," Jean said, "there'll be plenty of eligible men at the wedding, don't worry. Looking the way you do, your dance card won't go empty long."
Rogue noticed how Jean didn't make any attempt to ask if she herself had found a date for the wedding. Why bother, huh? Not like Ah'm gonna have a date to the weddin'. Not like Ah'm ever gonna have a date to anythin', is it?
"Rogue, are you all right?" Jean suddenly asked.
"Huh?" Rogue turned halfway towards Jean, to which the seamstress gave a tut.
"You seem a little..." Jean seemed to be fighting with the words to try and explain her catching something in Rogue mood or thoughts with her powers. The three had been fighting to keep their powers from the staff at the wedding boutique. The only thing the staff here knew about this wedding party was that they couldn't touch Rogue's skin...Rogue couldn't even remember the excuse Jean and Kitty had given them as to why.
"Ah'm fine," Rogue turned back to the mirror, she felt the seamstress fussing with the back of the dress. "Ah just can't breathe in this dress."
"It's only for one day," Kitty reminded pointedly from behind the curtain.
And that's one day far too much, Rogue decided miserably.
The foyer looked incredibly grand that next morning, although the decorations weren't completely put up yet. Rogue stood at the top of the stairs looking down the grand staircase at the fake floral arrangements and sashes that hung from the walls; someone was in the middle of putting up strings of fairy lights, some were still dangling unplugged from their spots.
"What do you think so far?" she heard a voice to the left of the staircase and she started her descent, looking over the rail at Kurt Wagner who was sitting cross legged on the floor untangling rows of fairy lights, his expression twisted with frustration.
"It looks good so far. You sure you've got time to do it all before tomorrow?"
"God only knows," Kurt glanced up at her. "I still have to put the lights on the gazebo. Jamie said he'd he help but I've not seen hide nor hair of him around."
"You know him, he'll last-minute the hell out of it with twenty dupes, as per usual," Rogue sighed.
Kurt looked up at her, "mein gut, what happened to you?"
"Huh?"
"You're...brown..." Kurt raised an eyebrow at her. "You've changed ethnicity."
"Hardly," Rogue rolled her eyes.
"You've gone from albino to Italian," Kurt observed.
"Fake tan. Kitty insisted," Rogue explained, feeling that Kurt may be over-exaggerating, although not by too much she supposed.
"And the lashes?" He gaped at her.
"Yeah, that was Kitty too...she said everythin' has to look perfect."
"She is making me go for a haircut at twelve," he sighed, "she's been the real bridezilla lately. Glad she's not the one getting married – can you imagine?"
"Yeah, it'd be ten times worse," Rogue supposed, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and leaned on the newel post. "You even have time for the haircut?"
"I have an extra hour, I suppose," Kurt went back to untangling the lights. "Amanda cancelled on coming at the last minute, so...I don't need to pick her up from the airport any more, I guess..." his expression was glum.
"Oh, Kurt," Rogue sighed.
"I'd...hoped that now that we've finished with college that...she'd come back. Before she left for Boston, we discussed it, it was always meant to be in the plans. Somewhere in the past year she...seems to have changed her mind..."
"Ah'm sorry," Rogue said softly.
"I wish she'd told me long ago, you know? She told me she's already rented an apartment in Boston...already found a job..." he frowned into the tangle of wires in his lap, his left arm had a rather large roll of the wire he'd untangled wrapped around it. "She...knew...you know? These...these things weren't sudden."
Rogue felt her heart sinking for him. She knew how much he'd looked forward to Amanda coming back for the past three years, how he'd been holding on to the relationship. She herself had noticed that over the past year the conversations he'd had over the phone with Amanda had been less and less frequent. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him even talk to her on the phone.
"I think she probably met some guy there."
"Well, whoever he is, he ain't gonna be half the guy you are," Rogue decided. "You're great, and she's an idiot."
"Water under the bridge, as they say," Kurt shrugged, trying to push the hurt away. "But hey, I'm free to do as I want at the wedding, flirt with as many girls as I like..."
Rogue saw the pain in his eyes as he said this, but she decided to play along for his sake, "there's always a silver linin'."
"Yeah," He agreed, he forced a smile.
"Ah'm gonna go get some coff-"
Rogue's words were interrupted by the rather loud doorbell; it caught her off guard as normally the buzzer for the gates went off first.
"The gates unlocked?" she asked.
"Yeah, they're wide open – we've got vans coming and going delivering stuff, just made sense. Can you get it? I'm kind of...tangled..." he held his arm up.
Rogue left the staircase and crossed the cold marble tiles bare foot to reach the front doors. When she pulled them open, she was met with four familiar faces – and only one she'd actually been expecting to see.
"Magneto..." she managed weakly, looking up at him. She couldn't ever remember seeing Magneto in such casual clothes before. He was clad in a sweatshirt and jeans, and it seemed utterly absurd to her that he was dressed like that. She'd somehow expected his armour and she blinked at the sight of him.
"You seemed surprised to see us," Magneto said, looking down at her, there was a large wrapped giftbox in his arms.
Rogue looked behind Magneto to see his son, Pietro, looking slightly put out and moody, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt to beat the summer heat, and his daughter Wanda, who despite the heat was wearing a dark red PVC trenchcoat. What caught her completely by surprise was the sight of Gambit there.
"Ah didn't know everyone was comin'," Rogue tried to hide her surprise.
"Charles extended the invitation to my children," Magneto explained.
Rogue moved away from the door to let them enter, she glanced nervously at Remy LeBeau wondering how the invitation had somehow extended itself to him.
"I'm a plus one," he grinned at her, he put his arm around Wanda's shoulders and Wanda immediately elbowed him off, turning to look at him angrily. "Ow."
"I said don't touch me," Wanda muttered to him and moved past him. "Where are we staying?" she asked, sounding irritable.
Wanda? He came with Wanda? Rogue asked herself in disbelief. The idea of the two of them dating seemed very far-fetched.
"Wanda..." Magneto warned.
Remy eyed Rogue up and down, his eyes full of amusement at her Spongebob Squarepants pyjama pants and the slightly low cut white matching tanktop that went with them, "nice Jammies..."
Rogue folded her arms over her chest insecurely, frowning a little.
"Magnus...you've arrived..."
Rogue turned to see the Professor moving into the foyer, impeccable as always in a dark grey suit, cleanly shaven, posture straight in his wheelchair as he crossed the floor. She closed the front door and watched as Magneto approached the Professor.
"It's been a while, Charles."
"Indeed."
Pietro glanced towards Rogue, he put the two suitcases he was holding down. "what the hell happened to you? You look almost normal."
Rogue felt her cheeks flush with humiliation and muttered a "shut up " to him.
"Rogue, will you take our guests upstairs to the guest wing and show them to the red apartment."
"I remember where it is, Charles," Magneto stopped Rogue. "I don't need a chaperone to find it. I trust there will be a room elsewhere for Gambit?"
Turning, Rogue eyed Gambit, who was looking around the foyer at the decorations with some distraction. He was Wanda's plus one but they weren't sharing accommodation?
"Rogue...if you can check...? I'm not completely sure what rooms are vacant at the moment. Kitty has a list somewhere..." the Professor requested.
Remy turned to her, "I take a couch if there is one, I ain' fussy."
"That might be all there is," Rogue grimaced, "Kitty probably has the list in her room, Ah'll go check."
"I follow you. Always wanted to see the inside o' this place."
Rogue began up the foyer, aware of Magneto and his children following, Remy keeping close to her side.
"Can't help but think y' seem surprised t' see me," Remy leaned and muttered to her under his breath.
"You weren't on the invite list," Rogue supposed, she stopped at the top of the grand staircase, "red apartment is-" she started to say to Magneto.
"Yes, in the east wing, I do remember. I stayed here decades ago – before you were born," Magneto eyed Rogue critically before he led his children down the east hall.
Rogue sighed inwardly. Awkward, she thought.
"Charmin', ain' he?" Remy responded.
"Always," she sighed as she led the way towards Kitty's room, she wasn't even sure if Kitty would be up yet. The girl had been up late putting together small boxes of truffles for the guests.
"Big o' the Professor t' exten' an invite t' Magneto after all that's happened through the years," Remy admitted.
"They have a truce," Rogue shrugged, "Long as Magneto doesn't do anythin' related to terrorism towards humans, they can see eye to eye," she replied. "How come you're not sharin' with Wanda if you're here with her?" Rogue turned to look at him as they walked down the halls of the west wing.
"I'm not with her," Remy chuckled, "I'm jus' the plus one, that all. Y' think it was more?"
Rogue frowned, "it...did seem like she was pretty cold to you..." she supposed with a shrug.
"Oh, she hate me wit' a burnin' passion," Remy walked with his hands in the pocket of his ugly old trenchcoat. "But I convince her t' let me tag. Believe me, I'm really not Wanda's type."
She eyed him briefly as they walked, not sure what he meant by this. Wasn't he every girl's type? It was just then she noted he didn't seem to have any luggage with him, just a small backpack which she doubted accommodated any suit. "Wait...did you bring a suit? There's a rule that all the guys have to wear one..."
"I ren' or buy somethin' in town in a bit," Remy said, "ain' somethin' I normally keep on han'. Won' surprise y' that I don' go t' many weddin's."
"Yeah, you'd probably steal the silverware," Rogue snorted.
"Y' know me so well."
Rogue stopped at Kitty's bedroom and gave a soft knock, but there was no answer; she tried the handle and it was unlocked, she opened the door a little and gazed into the room, which was a mess and hadn't been tidied in the past two days due to the list of things she had to deal with and lack of time.
"She's not here," Rogue realised. She glanced around and spotted the folder with the plans for the wedding, it was on the desk by her laptop. Rogue entered hoping Kitty wouldn't mind her space being invaded just to retrieve it. She picked the folder and opened it up and started flicking through pages of various information trying to find a list of which rooms were left vacant.
"Wow...girl is kin' o' a slob," Remy admitted, he picked up a discarded push up bra from the floor and held it up, observing the very small cups.
"Stop it," Rogue warned him, "And Ah didn't say follow me in..."
"Y' didn' say not to," Remy supposed as he dropped the bra.
Rogue found the pages with the room information, she squinted, trying to make head nor tail of Kitty's chicken scratch notes. "Think room seventeen is empty. But if anyone else arrives, you might end up sharin'. That's a three bed room, so..."
"I don' min' sharin'," Remy smirked.
Rogue led the way out of the room and closed the door behind Remy. "It's near the shower room and a bathroom – they're just to the left," she led the way. "Why did you even want to come to the weddin'? You don't even know Jean and Scott..."
"Beat bein' bored at base camp all weekend. Didn' seem fair, them gettin' t' come party it up here in the lap o' luxury, an' me bein' all on my lonesome f' a weeken'."
Rogue found the door to room seventeen and she opened it, gazing in. The room was tidy, the beds had been stripped of blankets though for the summer. "Usually we have students staying in this room – but they're gone for summer vacation..." she explained, "this...used to be the room Ah shared with Kitty, actually," she frowned at the narrow bed she'd spent her first years sleeping on when she'd joined the institute.
"I can see it now," he said, "Pillow fight's in y' underwear, jumpin' up an' down on the bed..."
"You have a vivid imagination," Rogue remarked.
"Oh, y' not the firs' woman t' tell me that," he teased.
She rolled her eyes at him.
Remy sat on the bare mattress, dropping his backpack from his shoulder, "it do fine. Better than a couch. I slept in some rough places – this practically the Hilton compared to what I sleep in in the pas'," he grinned at her.
"Ah'll get you some beddin' in a little bit, there's some laundry needs sortin' out. Things have been real hectic here."
"I bet."
"The last of the kids just left yesterday to spend Summer vacation with friends and family...we're still in the process of washin' all the beddin' we stripped off two days ago..." she explained. "It's...not just beddin'...it's towels...it's face cloths, bath mats – on top of tryin' to keep up with our own laundry with all the rest of the stuff that needs done aroun'-" Rogue stopped, she realised Remy was looking up at her, his eyes searching hers. She was very aware of him staring at her intensely. "Why you lookin' at me like that?"
"Jus'...thinkin' it good t' see y'. Been a while, ain' it?"
"Yeah," Rogue shrugged, "anyway...Ah guess you're to...make yourself at home until the weddin'," Rogue shrugged. The Professor hadn't said much to the contrary she supposed. "There's a rec room down on the first floor – to the right of the foyer, if you follow the hall, its easy to find. You can entertain yourself there – there's an Xbox, a Playstation, PCs, all that stuff. Or you could play pool...there's lots to keep you entertained. Kitchen is just a little bit down the hall from it, if you're hungry, help yourself..." she shrugged, "kitchen is always stocked so..."
"Where you be?" he asked.
"Ah got a ton of crap to do," Rogue sighed, "Ah've got to go pick up my bridesmaids dress and-"
"You're a bridesmaid?" there was a glint of amusement in Remy's eyes.
"Yeah, so?"
"Guess that explains this fake bake an' those awful eyelashes..." he gestured to her face. "I barely recognise y' at firs' if it weren' for the hair," he stood up. "When y' goin' t' town?"
"Ah need to have coffee, sort the laundry stuff, and Ah've got to get changed, so...a few hours," she supposed.
"Then I join y', pick up a suit then," he decided, "make sense t' save gas, non?"
"Did you even bring a car?" Rogue asked.
"I follow Magneto's BMW on my hog," he moved to the window and gazed outside, "hey, y' got a pool..."
"Yeah."
"Okay if I take a dip?"
"Sure...whatever," Rogue supposed.
Remy shrugged out of his trench coat, and as he did, Rogue saw the gleam of sweat on his bulging arms. He'd filled out in the past few years, he was less lean and lanky than she recalled.
He looks so...mature, she realised. He'd barely been a boy of about eighteen or nineteen when she'd seen him last...now he was so much more a man.
"So..." he pulled off his t-shirt and wiped his sweaty body off with it, "y' got a date t' this thing or...?" he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Ah have stuff to do, swamp rat," Rogue ignored his question, "Ah'll see you in a few hours," she glanced at the digital clock on the cabinet beside her old bed, "at twelve thirty. Be at the garage."
"Oui, cherie."
Rogue went about her usual morning routine of having coffee, having a light breakfast and getting dressed. She avoided her usual shower for fear of washing off too much of the fake tan that she'd been forced to get. She was afraid of looking patchy. Or rather, she was afraid of Kitty telling her she looked too patchy and making her go for another spray tan session.
The laundry room was still in disarray as it had been for days. They'd been trying to catch up with a backlog of laundry, along with all the wedding plans for the past week. Piles of freshly washed sheets, pillow cases and pillows were stacked against the wall on the counter and Rogue picked some for room seventeen and went up to place them there.
Rogue knocked, but there was no answer, and she opened the door and peered into find Remy LeBeau had left it. His jeans and sweaty t-shirt were hanging from the post at the end of what had been her old bed, she didn't see underwear so she supposed he'd gone to the pool wearing those. She put the clean bedding down on the bare mattress and she moved to the window to look down at the pool; she could see Remy emerging from the water at the pools edge, sweeping his overgrown brown hair from his face. She saw him say something to Tabitha Smith who was poised on a sun-lounger, Tabitha had opted to get her tan the old fashioned way. Tabitha raised a hand and even from so far away, Rogue could see that the bleached blonde was giving him the middle finger.
Laughing inwardly, Rogue left the room and went downstairs to continue with some more of the laundry chores before she'd need to go out.
"Is it true that Gambit came?"
Rogue turned to the open door of the laundry room, seeing Kitty standing there looking a little flushed; it was clear she'd been jogging. "Uh, yeah, he showed up as Wanda's plus one," Rogue answered, she pulled some dry sheets from the dryer and put them into a basket.
"Ew...Wanda is here? They're together?"
"She's here, and accordin' to him they're not," Rogue shrugged, "Ain't my business."
"Did he mention Lance?"
"No...why would he?"
"Lance is an Acolyte now...Gambit leads them," Kitty folded her arms, her expression anxious.
"Gambit is a leader?" Rogue blinked.
"Did he mention Lance or not?"
"He didn't mention," Rogue put the basket up ontop of the dryer. "You want me to ask?"
"I just...no, you know what, it doesn't matter," Kitty shook her head, "so is Pietro here too?"
"Yeah, unfortunately. Still an asshole, the usual," Rogue mumbled. "They're staying in the red suite."
"I wondered why the Professor didn't want anyone occupying that," Kitty folded her arms, "guess he knew from the beginning. You think he'd have said something."
"Guess he didn't want us pre-emptin' trouble," Rogue supposed.
"You're going into town?"
"Yeah, Ah've got to get the dresses, remember?"
"Yeah, and remember the shoes," Kitty pointed out, "And the wraps...and the-"
"I know, I know," Rogue nodded, "And tiaras."
Kitty sighed, "I feel, like, so frazzled. Hardly slept a wink..."
"Just one more sleepless night to go, then it's all over," Rogue said.
"Yeah, I think I'm gonna get so drunk tomorrow night I won't have a problem getting sleep," Kitty snorted.
"Anyone got a towel?"
Kitty jumped at the sound of Remy's voice at her back and she moved out of the way of the door, turning. The girls both eyed him standing there, his hair was dripping wet around his shoulders, his eyelashes dark and spiky, his body shining with pool water, his boxers clinging to every contour of his body.
Every single contour.
"Oh my God," Kitty whispered in dismay realising just how much she could see of the man through the thin material.
Rogue tried not to let herself look further than his face for fear of seeing something she supposed she had no right to really see.
"Uh...sure..." Rogue remembered herself and she moved to the back of the laundry room and picked up a large towel from the pile, "sorry, we're still sortin' through it all."
"It's fine, I didn' think t' ask f' one 'fore I go swimmin'..." he caught the towel as Rogue tossed it to him and he dried his hair off first. "Pool is great – nice an' cool. Y' all is lucky havin' one whenever y' wan' it."
"Do you have a suit with you?" Kitty asked, "all the guys have to wear suits."
"I'm gettin' one," Remy looked at her, he dried his chest off.
Kitty's phone pinged and she fished it from her pocket and checked it, "ugh, I have to go speak to the caterers..."
Rogue watched as the petite brunette rushed off.
"She's a lil' frayed at the edges," Remy approached, still drying himself off, "isn' the weddin' supposed t' be the brides an' groom's job t' arrange?"
"They're busy."
"Doin' what? Gettin' the honeymoon done early?" Remy chortled.
"Jean is volunteering at the hospital – some summer program to do with her medical studies," Rogue shrugged, "Scott...Ah think he's probably in the library still writin' his vows..."
She hated that she even heard the bitterness in her own voice as she said it, and she was aware Remy caught it too because he looked at her strangely.
"So they're indisposed," Rogue finished, "for now."
"So petit chat doin' all the plannin'?"
"Professor has done most of it, Kitty is just...picking up a lot of the spare ends. She's the maid of honour."
"An' you jus' a bridesmaid?"
"Ah didn't even want to be that," Rogue started pulling damp laundry from the washing machine to transfer it to the dryer.
Remy wrapped the towel around his neck and leaned on the dryer, watching her. "Why y' doin' it then?"
"Just...got roped into it, Ah suppose."
There was a moment of silence, and Rogue felt awkward, aware of his watching her every movement.
"So, who y' dancin' wit' at this thing?" Remy finally broke the silence.
Rogue didn't answer, she was certain he was trying to tease her, "you better go get ready, we have to leave soon."
Remy finally put the towel around his waist and fussed underneath it, "y' dry these f' me?" he held up his now soaking wet boxers, "since y' gon' do a dry load anyways?"
"They're full of chlorine, they need washed," she picked them from his hand gingerly, making a face as she tossed them into the washer and started pushing in some of the dirty laundry that was still in a pile in the corner.
"I don' got a spare pair wit' me," Remy remarked.
"You only came with one pair of underwear?" she threw a dirty look at him.
"I didn' have the time t' make arrangements. I didn' even know this weddin' was happenin' 'til las' nigh'. I woul'n' have even known if Wanda hadn' let it slip."
"How can you not have clean underwear?"
"I didn't know I had t' prep. I'm a fly by the seat o' my pant kin' o' man, y' know? Even if the seat o' my pants ain' got no underwear in them...hey, I don' min' goin' commando, kin' o' liberatin'," he shrugged.
Rogue rolled her eyes.
"Not in the heat o' battle though," he added, "got t' wear a cup jus' in case."
Why is he still talkin' about his goddamn junk? She wondered.
Remy seemed to give up with his rambling once he realised she wasn't in the mood to respond. "Okay, I'm gon' go get dressed," he stretched, "garage at half twelve, y' said?"
"Yeah," Rogue ran a hand through her hair frustratedly, "please say you have a clean t-shirt?" she remembered eyeing the sweat soaked one at the bottom of the bed.
"Uh..." he gave a weak grin, the answer was obvious in his expression.
"What's in that backpack you brought? Lockpicks?" she scoffed.
"An' my staff...an' my armour. Had t' really stuff it in there. Wasn' room f' much else."
"Why would you bring your armour to a weddin'?"
"We mutants an' you're the X-Men. Y' never know," he shrugged.
Rogue moved to the closet at the back of the room and opened it, peering in at the piles of Xavier logo sweatshirts and t-shirts, "what are you? A large?"
"That's what every woman I been wit' say," he responded smugly.
She turned and frowned at him, not amused by what had clearly been a sex joke.
"A medium woul' fit me snug," he supposed, "show off my body nice," he grinned at her.
Rogue pulled a large t-shirt from the pile and tossed it to him, the wrapper crinkled as he caught it. "You'll take a large."
"Y' a little stressed y'self," he noted, eyeing her, "Maybe you shoul' try chillin', non?"
"Easy for you to say, swamp rat."
After Rogue had gotten through a few more loads of laundry, she met Remy LeBeau at the garage at almost quarter to one pm. He was sitting on his parked Harley Davidson bike, a pack of cards in his hand, his fingers skilfully shuffling, a cigarette dangling from his full lips. His eyes followed her from the front doors of the mansion as she approached.
"Y' late."
"Ah lost track of time, there isn't a clock in that room and my phone was in my room," she approached without apology, the keys to the van in her hand.
"S' okay, Remy don' min' waitin' f' a classy lady like you, chere," he remarked, he took the cigarette from his lips after taking a deep drag. "Even if y' is Donal' Trump orange."
Rogue frowned at him, raising an eyebrow.
"We can take my chopper," he nodded in the direction of the handlebars and he exhaled his smoke.
"Ah've got five dresses, five pairs of shoes and a ton of accessories to pick up. Unless your chopper comes with a trailer, it ain't convenient," she used the remote to open the garage and waited as it slowly raised.
Remy raised himself from the bike, slipping the deck of cards into his jeans pocket. He took another long drag from his cigarette, "I guess it be hard t' carry a suit on this," he gave a shrug.
"You probably better buy underwear while you're out if you're planning to rent."
"Probably," he supposed, he followed her to the garage, exhaling another lungful of smoke.
"You can't smoke in the van," she warned him, coughing a little.
Remy sighed, took one last draw on the thing, exhaled and dropped the cigarette to the garage floor and stomped it out. "Fine. So...we ain' had a whole lot o' time t' talk, y' been a bit occupied since I got here..." he watched as she unlocked the van. "What's new?"
"Nothin'," she replied, she climbed into the drivers seat and pulled on her seatbelt.
"Nothin'?" he asked after getting into the passengers side of the black van. "It's been leas'...three...four years? An' nothin' change?"
"Nothin'," she started the van. "Seatbelt."
He pulled his seatbelt on at her command, rolling his eyes just a little. "Surely somethin' must have changed in three or four years..."
"Ah didn't go to college, Ah've worked at the institute since high school graduation helpin' students train. Ah'm still with the X-Men. Nothin' else to report."
Rogue was aware that he was eyeing her gloved hands on the steering wheel as she led the van out of the garage. She realised what he'd been asking hadn't been about what she'd been doing for the past few years. He'd been wondering if she'd gained control yet.
"I...see."
"How about you?"
Remy was silent for a moment, then sighed "I been all over the world, decided t' leave the guil', travel a bit. En' up runnin' back int' Magneto an'...here I am," he shrugged. "I'm leadin' the Acolytes now."
"Who's in the team apart from the twins?"
"Me, Pyro, an' Avalanche," Remy swept his hand through his still slightly damp hair. "Occasionally Colossus – he come an' go when it suits. When money is real tight, he come lookin' f' work. Toad was there f' a time, an' we had a few others, but they wen' off on they own...now mos'ly jus' me, the twins an' Avalanche."
"Lance was was invited to the weddin' but...he didn' get back to us. Kitty was kind of...Ah don't know, hopin' he'd still make it. Any idea why he didn't come?"
Remy didn't offer anything else on the subject but his silence spoke volumes. She turned briefly to gaze at him before putting her attention back on the road; even his expression seemed somewhat conflicted.
Rogue turned to him. "What is it?"
"He probably ain' a good person t' be aroun' f' her. Bes' he don' come."
"What do you mean?" Rogue asked, she sped up the van a little.
"He's...not the same guy y' knew back in the day."
"What happened?"
"Really not my place t' say," Remy decided, frowning, "it'd be better wit' out him."
Rogue sighed inwardly. "That's...sad. Kitty was...really hopin' he'd come back...hopin' they'd reconnect or...whatever."
"It f' the bes', chere. Trust me."
They arrived back at the mansion just before dinner. Rogue picked up all the necessary items, including a few extra things Kitty sent her to get for the wedding, and Remy took his time trying to get the right suit to fit. Rogue felt thoroughly exhausted by the time she'd gotten home. Remy helped her upstairs with the garment bags and they put them on the rail in Jean's bedroom which is where they'd all be getting ready in the morning.
"Ah can't wait for all this stupid fanfare to be over," Rogue admitted as she hung up the bridesmaids dresses.
"Can't be that bad."
"You haven't seen the stupid dress they're makin' me wear," Rogue muttered.
"Can I sneak a peek?"
"No."
"How come?"
"You'll make fun," she gestured, "come on, out..."
He led the way out of the bedroom, "so...y' never gave me a straight answer about who gon' be y' date t' this thing," he said, glancing over her shoulder.
Rogue followed him out and closed the door of Jean's room. "Ah thought Ah had," she replied. She passed by him to lead the way down the hall.
"No...y'...keep avoidin' answerin' the question, actually..." he caught up and put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Y' seein' anyone or...?"
She went to answer him, but she wasn't sure what she'd really intended to say, only that she'd almost snapped at him. And then there was an interruption.
"Rogue...did you get the dresses?"
Rogue turned to face down the hall to see Jean coming towards them. "Ah'm just literally back from the trip – it's all on the rail. Shoes are in the van. Just about to go get those now..."
"It can wait, dinner is almost ready," Jean smiled tiredly, "Gambit...we...didn't expect you at the wedding," she greeted warmly. Rogue watched as she leaned in and kissed Remy's cheek, and Remy half hugged her warmly almost as if they'd been old friends. It annoyed her how comfortable the pair of them could be with anyone, even enemies.
"I'm gatecrashin'," he jested, putting a finger to his lips, "ain' no party wit'out Gambit at it."
Rogue spoke up, "he's Wanda Maximoff's plus one," she folded her arms.
"Oh, are you two...?" Jean left the question off.
"Course not. Y' all really don' know her, do y'?"
"Not that well," Jean admitted.
"I'm really not Wanda's type," Remy implied carefully.
"I see," Jean blinked in response.
"I'm just piggy backin' on her invite. She won' even look in my direction. So...I'm...gon' be wit' out a dance partner, so to speak..." he gave Rogue a pointed glance and she chose to ignore him, convinced he was trying to get under her skin and tease her.
"Well, you're very welcome, all the same," Jean smiled, "I'm sure you'll have plenty of dance partners."
"Maybe I fin' a good one," Remy responded. "Bridesmaids make very good dance partners, so I hear," he tossed Rogue a look again.
"Yes...a few of mine have empty dance cards," Jean smiled.
Rogue sighed, being around Jean had gotten her back up again and she felt the urge to get out of her vicinity, "Ah've got stuff to do. Ah'll catch y'all at dinner."
Dinner was too noisy for Rogue to deal with; everyone was buzzing about the wedding, Kitty was getting on her nerves about preparation and planning and trying to micromanage everything. More guests had arrived, friends and acquaintances, other factions and teams, many had been invited and the long table in the dining room had been so densely packed it'd been difficult to even have enough arm room to cut her food.
And so Rogue, after eating only half of what was on her plate and bowed out early to go for a walk on the grounds, needing some time alone to just recharge and clear her head.
It was a warm balmy evening, the sun was slowly starting to dip but there was still heat in the air. It felt good to be away from everything, she felt like she could finally breathe again.
Rogue hated being around so many people – it was an introvert's nightmare. She hated being so overwhelmed with voices and noise and joy. Hated being the only one at the table who seemed to be unhappy too . Even Magneto had put on a few smiles and made pleasant conversation at dinner. She'd been unable to say anything, not that she'd have been able to get a word in edgewise, she supposed.
The grounds were encircled by a ring of dense woodlands to keep the outside world seeing into the estate, and so she followed the path through the woods. The shade of the trees delivered a cool and soothing atmosphere, and the air smelled slightly damp and green. She found a small clearing in the trees, and she settled down over a broken tree trunk and sat listening to the sound of the evening bird song, and the slight breeze rustling the branches above her.
Just one more day, just one more day, she told herself.
Her thoughts shifted to how happy Scott and Jean had looked at the table, sitting next to each other, laughing and toasting to their future together with the others. She'd never seen Scott look so happy.
Why could Ah have never made him that happy? Why couldn't he ever have looked at me the way he looked at her? Rogue wondered sullenly as she pulled her knees up to her chest and stared up the tree tops, watching the start of sunset light filtering through.
Lets face it, she's beautiful, she's smart, she's powerful...everyone falls in love with her. She's everythin' Ah'm not...everythin' Ah'm never gonna be.
"Y' didn' eat all y' dinner."
Rogue winced at the interruption and turned to the opening of the clearing where Remy LeBeau stood casually with his shoulder against a thick tree trunk, his arms folded casually.
"You keepin' track of my eatin' habits," Rogue rolled her eyes at the Cajun.
"Jus' observant. I also stole y' leftover chicken."
"Good for you."
"Why y' out here on your lonesome?"
"Needed some air. Too many people in that dinin' room. All the noise and buzz...just too much," Rogue admitted honestly, she turned her attention back up the canopy of trees, watching them shift and dance slightly in the gentle evening breeze.
"Yeah, was gettin' t' be a bit o' a headache," he supposed as he approached. "Jean an' Cyclops seem happy enough. When people decide t' marry at twenty-two, y' always got t' wonder if they're rushin' things," he supposed. "But...they seem solid enough, from what I can tell."
"Ah suppose," Rogue chewed her cheek.
"Y' ain' happy f' them?"
"Course Ah am," she lied, not turning to look at him.
He didn't respond to her claim, but she got the sense he picked up on the lie fairly easily. He was too perceptive to not have seen through her, she was sure. Remy was silent for a moment, pensive, then he spoke, "more people jus' arrive," he decided to change the subject, which she was incredibly grateful for. "Kitty say I be sharin' my room wit' Sam Guthrie. She thinks we migh' get along, bot' bein' southern an' all."
Rogue shrugged, "Sam is okay. Polite. A gentleman."
"I can be too, y' know."
"Sure," Rogue turned to finally look at him, "it sure was gentlemanly of you to kidnap me that one time."
"Hey, I paid f' dinner after we got t' the city, didn' I?" he smirked. "Even pulled y' chair out f' y'."
"Yeah..." she said. She felt a sigh escape her lips unintentionally and she immediately regretted it. She didn't want to seem bothered by anything.
Remy came over, his gait lazy, the twigs of the woodland floor crunching with each step. "Y' been awful quiet t' day. Somethin' botherin' y'?"
"Ah'm just tired. This whole weddin' thing has us all stressed."
"I got a really good solution f' stress, y' know."
Rogue swung her legs over the edge of the log, "oh?"
"Yeah..." he moved closer standing a few inches from her, looking at her with a pointed expression, he moved closer, "'mon, chere, why not jus' throw all caution t' the win'..." he grinned, "An' take a ride wit' me..."
"A ride..."
"Oh my chopper...it's real freein'. Wind in y' hair, nothin' but open road...help y' f' get things f' a bit...I even let y' go in front..." he chewed his bottom lip, searching her eyes. "It be fun...nothin' like havin' all that power 'tween y' thighs an open road t' travel."
In spite of herself, she smiled faintly at the suggestion. "Ah'm not in the mood," Rogue decided, "but Ah appreciate the offer, all the same..."
He reached up and picked a piece of leaf matter out of her hair, "dance wit' me."
"Huh?"
"T' morrow, at the reception."
Rogue laughed uncomfortably at this absurd suggestion, "No..."
"C'mon, we have a good time, I'll put a smile on that face o' yours..." he teased.
"Look, as soon as my duty is done, Ah'm leavin' that party, Gambit," Rogue explained, "And anyways...Ah'm not the dancin' kind of girl."
"Maybe y' jus' never foun' the right dance partner," he smirked.
"You're real full of yourself, ain't you?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ain' I got a right t' be?" he teased, he gestured to his body confidently, eyes twinkling devilishly.
Rogue eyed him; the way he looked she supposed he was right. Someone who had his look and charm had every right to have the confidence to go with it.
Remy tilted his head curiously, "y' smell nice...what is that...?" he moved nearer her neck to smell her and she craned herself awkwardly away from him, the idea of him accidentally getting too close and triggering her powers made her cringe inwardly.
"Probably deodorant..." she pushed him away gingerly with a gloved hand and slid down from the log, "Ah better get back, got a lot to prepare for tomorrow...got to be up super early...shower, get my hair done..." she touched her hair thoughtfully.
"Stay a while," he took her hand and stopped her from walking away; he pulled her back gently. "We ain' seen each other prop'ly in years. Barely talked all day. C'mon, lets talk."
"About?" she sighed, leaning back against the log.
He took a moment, "tell me about-"
Just then, Rogue felt her hip pocket buzzing, and her phone began ringing loudly, she recognised the specific ringtone from Logan's 'business phone', the one he used only for X-Men business. She removed the phone from her pocket and looked at it. "It's Logan," she announced. She accepted the call and raised the phone to her ear, "Yeah?" she was aware of Remy leaning next to her to try and listen in.
"We've got an emergency in the city; some mutants have raided a bank and police have them surrounded. Gettin' a team together. Hurry up."
"Ah'm on my way," Rogue promised and hung up, "Ah have to go, it's-"
"I heard," Remy said, interrupting her, "let me go wit' y'."
"What?" she blinked.
"More the merrier, righ'?"
"But-"
"No buts. I'm sure y' can do wit' the extra hands. Safety in numbers," he smiled, "it be just like ol' times, non?"
"Except this time we're not fightin' each other?" she scoffed as they began jogging to the mansion.
"Somethin' like that."
Remy had brought Pietro and Wanda along for the mission, which had proved incredibly useful in the end while trying to deal with the nine mutants who had been ready to walk out with the contents of several hundred safety deposit boxes in the New York bank.
There'd been teething troubles at the start, the X-Men weren't used to fighting along side the Acolytes and so there were bound to be some clashes in tactics. There were things that stood out to Rogue in the field – Pietro liked to showboat, just as he had back years ago in the Brotherhood – while his twin was more focused and disciplined, to the point of being too serious – however her powers were apt to go wrong when he concentration was broken unintentionally by one of the X-Men or an attack coming unexpectedly from the enemy.
Remy too, had a tendency to showboat and that hadn't really changed she realised. He did everything with a certain flair as if he thought the entire thing was a game and she couldn't help but feel eventually one day his luck would run out.
When the mission was done, they boarded the jet and began the short journey home. Rogue couldn't deny having had the chance to fight in the field had definitely alleviated a little of the stress she'd been feeling all week.
"How come the lovebirds didn' come on this?" Remy asked once the Blackbird was in the air after they'd completed their mission.
"Bad idea – they're so distracted with all that's going on. This wedding has them both so stressed," Kitty spoke up, "besides, if one of them got hurt, it'd mean postponing everything...it just...didn't make sense. After all the work that went into this, that is just so not happening."
"We had more than enough people to cover the situation," Logan grunted. Rogue had noted Logan had been in a bad mood since he'd gotten home just minutes before dinner; he'd been gone for a few days on a mission and it had been clear to her that finding Magneto and his Acolytes at the dining table upon his return had not been the welcome he'd been expecting.
Kurt chimed in, "besides, as of today, they're officially on vacation from the team for the next month. After the wedding, month long honeymoon. "
"Really?" Remy asked, "ain' that gon' make things harder, missin' two members o' the team f' that length o' time?"
Rogue couldn't help but note the sound of intrigue in his voice.
"We will always manage," Ororo spoke up from the front of the jet, "Scott and Jean have earned this time away, and if we must sacrifice a little extra work should the time arise, then we will do what we must."
Rogue had to admit she was somewhat looking forward to the pair going away for the next month; since they'd gotten engaged on Valentines Day, their relationship had felt almost...obnoxious to Rogue. It'd gotten stronger, they'd seemed to get closer, and it hurt to constantly watch them together; it seemed they couldn't even refrain from holding hands when they were in the same room. The thought of having to watch them go through the Honeymoon phase after marriage didn't sit well with her. She was beginning to wonder if she was going to need a month away once they got back.
"I think it's kind of jumping the gun a bit, to be honest," Pietro spoke up, "what next? House and kids and a dog and a cat and a joint bank account? Seems so...boring."
Rogue didn't disagree, but at the same time, the thought of a house, children and pets...of sharing a life with someone, seemed so...appealing and peaceful. Maybe it was just because it was something she knew she'd never be capable of.
"I don' know. I can see the appeal in it," Remy supposed, he was sitting shuffling cards idly. Rogue turned to see him sitting beside Pietro.
Pietro laughed, "you're kidding? You? You can see the appeal of settling with one girl? You've been on six dates in the past two weeks alone..."
"That don' mean I can't see differen' sides o' a card," Remy raised a card and flipped it between his fingers skilfully. "Jus' 'cause y' happy t' ride the subway t' work every day don' mean y' never dream o' some day ownin' a Ferarri."
Rogue thought the analogy odd, but she said nothing.
"I think they're lucky," Kitty admitted, sounding a little wistful, "they're the real deal and they've found each other and that's all they need, and...why wait? If you love someone...and if you know in your heart that's your person...what's the point in waiting?" she asked. There was a definite sadness to Kitty's voice that Rogue picked up on, and Rogue could tell by the distant look in her eyes that she was thinking of Lance. Rogue heard her quietly sigh at her side. She wished she had something comforting to say but couldn't muster it. She didn't know how to really comfort herself, let alone Kitty.
Wanda spoke up from the back, "love is bullshit."
Rogue was sure she heard Kurt mutter something under his breaths in German that sure sounded to her like it was more or less in agreement with Wanda's assessment.
"Better being single. No one to constantly worry about. No one to keep tabs on and make sure they're not cheating on you..." Wanda continued, sounding cold.
She speaking from experience? Rogue wondered. The rest of the journey was in mostly silence, and Rogue couldn't help but gauge the gloomy atmosphere from most of the passengers. Kitty was glum because Lance hadn't come to the wedding, Kurt was miserable because Amanda had essentially dumped him long distance, and Wanda was...just bitter.
And then there was herself, love sick and having to try and steel herself to the upcoming nuptials of the man she'd been in love with for years to the woman she was most jealous of in the world.
Had to be her he married, couldn't have been anyone else, Rogue thought dully and she quietly brooded in silence for the remainder of the journey home.
When the Blackbird was finally in the hangar, Rogue sat quiet and watched the others filter out ahead of her. Although she was glad the mission was over, part of her didn't want to leave the jet yet, part of her really didn't want to even be home.
For one moment, she almost wished she'd not made it home. She hated herself for how dramatic and immature it even seemed to her in her own head that she thought it, that she wished perhaps the fire blast of that red-skinned mutant had hit her and destroyed her before Remy had knocked her out of the way. She knew how selfish it almost seemed to have wished that when the ceiling of the bank had caved in, that she'd been caught under it.
Is it petty to think that? She wondered staring off into space. Is it petty to wish Ah wish Ah'd died just so Ah didn't have to be there tomorrow? If Ah had died...would the plans for tomorrow have even changed or would the weddin' still go ahead like it's supposed to? How much would they even care if Ah died?
"Y' jus' gon' sit here all night?"
Rogue raised her eyes to Remy, who was – other than herself – the last person in the Blackbird. "Huh?"
"Y' sittin' like y' in a dream," He leaned on one of the seats, gazing down at her, "Y' okay?"
"Yeah, Ah just...need a moment," she supposed. "Just trying to decompress from the fight."
"Are y' hurt?" he queried.
"Ah'm just tired."
"If y' like, I can carry y'..." he smirked.
"Don't be stupid," she rolled her eyes at him. "Just go on ahead."
He gave a vague shrug and left her. She let her head rest back against the seat, sighing deeply, absorbing the moment of peace for just a moment, until she could hear voices echoing in the hangar outside of the jet, the voices were that of Remy and Magneto.
" How was the mission?" Magneto was asking.
" Wen' well. No injuries or problems," Remy assured, " think it helped relieve a little tension 'tween the teams," he supposed.
" And Wanda?" asked Magneto, Rogue was certain she picked up a tone of actual concern in his voice.
Remy seemed to hesitate for a moment, " Migh' wan' keep an eye on her...she in one o' her...moods."
"I had hoped maybe being in the field might lighten it a little – help her to work out some of that ever growing anger of hers," Magneto sighed.
" Her girlfrien' cheated on her an' then left her f' another girl. Y' think throwin' her out int' a fight gon' fix that?"
Rogue blinked. Wanda likes girls? She recalled how earlier in the day Remy had made a comment at least twice that he had not been Wanda's 'type', and at the time, she hadn't quite realised what that had meant.
" Gambit, I told you-"
"Yeah, I get it, y' don' wan' hear about it. Y' wan' preten' like it never happened...like Wanda isn'-"
"Gambit."
"Fine," Remy grunted. " Didn' say a thing."
Magneto was silent for a moment, then with a swift change of subject, responded. " Did you manage to get a tuxedo for the wedding?"
"Oui," Remy responded, sounding bored of the conversation already, "s' slightly tigh' but it'll do."
"Good," Magneto replied. " You should get some rest for tomorrow. As I understand it, it's going to be a very long day."
Rogue heard the footsteps of Magneto's steel tacked boots leaving the hangar. Remy's footsteps were silent, and she was sure he had to have left too; she gave it a few moments, sitting processing things in her head a little, and then finally she got up and headed for the hatch, making her way down only to find that Remy had not left.
Remy was standing leaning against the fuel injector, arms folded, standing there as if he were waiting for something.
"Somethin' wrong?" Rogue asked.
Remy turned and looked at her, "Oh...there y' are."
"You waitin' for me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nah, jus'...takin' a momen'," he gave a shrug, he paused, "Actually..." he took deep breath through his nose, "Okay, fine, I'm lyin'..."
"Okay," she blinked.
"I was waitin' f' you."
"You were?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Why?"
"I wanted t' ask y' somethin'."
"Oh?" Rogue she hovered halfway on the hatch, looking down at him.
"Is Professor Xavier recruitin'?"
"Recruitin'?" she blinked.
"Yeah...I'm...gettin' burned out wit' the Acolytes," Remy rubbed the back of his neck, "I been doin' this f' a year an'...I really need a change. I need t' be somewhere I ain't in charge."
She eyed him suspiciously, "You want to join us?"
"Maybe. I hear pay is decen'. Workload a lil' more challengin' here – an' livin' conditions are...admittedly much nicer."
"Is that why you really wanted to come to this weddin'?" she raised an eyebrow, "to get a foot in the door?"
He took a moment to respond, "what if I did? Would it make a difference?"
"Ah...guess not..." she supposed. "Have you told Magneto yet?"
"I been tellin' him I ain' happy f' mont's now, an' it don' get through his head. A lot o' things don' get through t' him. I'm pas' tryin' an' definitely pas' carin'," Remy frowned. "I need a change...think I coul' fit here."
Rogue laughed, "oh, Logan is gonna love this. You askin' to join? He'll pitch a fit."
"I'm sure he will. Ever since he got back at dinner, he's been pickin' me apart every chance he gets," Remy shrugged, "But Wolverine don' intimidate me."
"You're one of the few who aren't afraid of him," Rogue chuckled darkly.
"He don't intimidate you," Remy noted.
"Ah know how to handle him," Rogue supposed, "Ah'm one of the few who can take him down too. Not that it's pleasant but...if it comes to it, Ah can."
Remy smirked, "I bet," he chewed his lip, looking at her knowingly beneath his dark brows. "So...what y' think? I got a shot here or what?"
Rogue considered Remy's request for a moment, "If you're really serious then...wait until after the weddin' to ask...once everything is calmed down...Ah'm sure the Professor will be happy to discuss it."
"You put in a good word f' me?" he asked hopefully, "talk me up? Tell him what kin' o' useful skills I got an' how I'd be a good asset?"
"You don't need me to talk you up," Rogue admitted as she led the way down the hall towards the elevator. Magneto had long since gone up ahead. "We're more than aware of what you're capable of."
"Wouldn't hurt t' have a reference," he supposed as they stepped into the elevator together, "so...how y' feel about it?"
She tilted her head, "Hmm?"
"If I join?"
"Ah...haven't really thought about it," she pointed out, "you've only just suggested it."
"Firs' impression...y' mus' have had one when I said it..."
"Honestly no," she responded, "surprise is about it."
"Surprise?"
"We're not exactly your type of people," she reminded.
"We worked well t'gether out there, didn' we?" he pointed out.
"Ah suppose," she had to agree with him – despite the teething problems at the start of their time in the field earlier, they had worked well together in the end. "Ah can't see it bein' an issue. You might clash with a few of the others though. They worked together with you tonight but...for the long term? Might be a different story."
"I win 'em over. If I can win you over, I can achieve that surely?"
"Who said you won me over?" she pushed the button to take them up to the first floor.
"Didn' I?" he teased, as the elevator lurched upwards.
Rogue rolled her eyes at him, "don't push it."
He grinned his perfect smile at her, his eyes twinkled with handsome playfulness.
"And wipe that smirk off your face," she rolled her eyes at him. "You're not as charmin' as you think, swamp rat."
"Y' think so?" he put his hand on the wall of the elevator, leaning close to her, "I'll have y' know I turn heads wherever I go."
"Must be the smell of cigarettes and desperation," she supposed, pursing her lips.
The elevator opened and they left, stepping out into the foyer to find a bunch of crates had been stacked against the wall by the elevator's exit.
"Is this champagne?" Remy asked, eyeing the crates, he lifted the lid on one.
"Yeah, we've got to move them into the kitchen in the mornin'," Rogue shrugged.
Remy pulled a bottle from the crate and looked at the label, "not bad," he supposed, he looked at her and smirked, "how 'bout it?"
"How about what?" she blinked at him.
"Nigh' ain' over yet," he took her gloved hand in his, "c'mon...we have a lil' nigh' cap."
"But that's for tomorrow..." she stopped, pulling him backwards a little.
"They mus' have a hundred bottles here, trus' me chere, they ain' gon' miss it..." he grinned, he pulled her towards the front door and opened it. "An 'sides, you deserve a treat f' all the stuff y' done t'day."
"Ah have to be up early..."
"C' mon..." he smiled, "live a lil', eh? It'll help y' unwind."
Rogue let him lead her down towards the lake where the pier was, not sure why she was letting him talk her into this. He slipped his trenchcoat off and lay it on the grass not too far from the boathouse (which was one of her favourite spots) and gestured for her to sit down. He unwrapped the foil from the bottle and began working at popping the cork.
"Can only stay a little while. Ah've got to be up at six."
"Don' worry, I won' keep y' up all nigh'," he popped the cork skilfully, firing it off in the direction of the lake. Rogue heard it plop into the water almost ceremoniously and he laughed as the champagne began spilling over the lip of the bottle and across his bare fingers. "Ladies firs'..."
Rogue took the bottle from him and took a swig, it was lukewarm from the Summer heat in the mansion which made it not quite as enjoyable as she thought it could have been.
Suppose tomorrow Bobby will make sure it's nice and chilled with his powers, she realised, watching Remy as he sucked the spilled champagne from his bare fingers.
"Wish I brought some glasses, we coul' have toasted," Remy supposed as he settled beside her on his trenchcoat, he pulled one knee up this chest. Rogue observed him for a moment, his face was dimly lit by the post light at the start of the pier.
"Toasted to what?" she turned to look at him as she held the bottle to him.
"T' Jean an' Scott," he supposed as he accepted the bottle from her.
"Oh," she mumbled. "There'll be plenty people toastin' them tomorrow. Ah'm sure Jean will have no end of people toastin' her."
Remy eyed her before he took a long swig from the bottle, then he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist, "Y' don' like the woman much, do y'?"
"Ah don't hate her," Rogue replied as she accepted the bottle back from him.
"I never said that," he turned his gaze to the lake, his expression thoughtful, "but there's some kin' o' animosity. Noticed it at dinner. Every time Jean touch Cyclops...or...he touch her, y' got this...real...tense...unhappy look..."
Rogue tried not to show any response, she took a slow sip from the bottle, turning her attention to watch the way the crescent moon reflected in the lake water.
"I..." he began, he took the bottle from her and swigged before speaking, "I...guess this weddin' is...probably harder on you than anyone else here..." he supposed.
Rogue couldn't even look at Remy right then, she was certain he'd see right through her and it was clear to her he'd already perceived too much.
"Watchin' things go by...feelin' like y' outside o' it. I've...felt that way myself before."
Rogue sighed, "It's hard..." she admitted. "Havin' things always...rubbed in your face...when...you can't have them..." she looked down into the water. "Happiness is only for some...not for others. Sometimes feels like...Ah was put here just to be alone."
"Y' not exactly alone," he took the bottle from her and took a large swig before continuing, "There a good vibe here, chere. Blood kin or not . Maybe that's why it appeal t' me so much. At dinner I watched how y' all laugh and talk an' argue an'...it...felt like somethin'. Felt like somethin I've never had at home wit' Jean-Luc. Never wit' the Thieves. Never had wit' the Acolytes."
Rogue shrugged, "it's like family...sure. But...doesn't fill this...void."
Remy was silent for a moment, he took a long drink from the bottle, then spoke, "Y' think he would?" he turned and looked at her, his expression was serious. "Fill the void, I mean?"
She blinked, "huh?"
"Cyclops," he responded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y' clearly in love wit' him."
Hearing it aloud made her feel incredibly hurt and exposed. She hated how damn perceptive Remy was...how he could see things so plainly no one else could. In just six hours Remy seemed to have seen into her soul more than Scott had ever in six years.
"Even when I mention his name...the look in y' eyes changes..." Remy said, his voice was soft.
She stared at the water, not sure how to really explain herself.
"He's such a boy scout," Remy snorted, turning his attention back to the water, "Why y' waste such love on someone so...bland?"
"He's not bland...he's..." she stopped herself, realising that he'd caught her in admitting it without even making her admit it. She hated herself for letting herself be so transparent, and loathed Remy for being so damn perceptive.
"He's what?" Remy raised an eyebrow at her.
"Kind..." she supposed, "And...honest...and...brave."
His expression clouded and he turned to look at her again, he rolled his eyes at her description of Scott. "Y' too good f' him y' know. An' y' far more interestin' than the woman he gon' marry."
"Yeah, sure," she scoffed, she took the bottle and took a long swig.
"Y' are."
"Right."
"I think y' a great girl, chere..." he turned to look at her, his expression serious. The problem was, Remy LeBeau was too good a liar for her to really be able to believe anything he said, even if it was only to make her feel better, even if she really did want to feel better and believe it.
"Ah hear that all the time," she muttered.
"Clearly y' don' hear it enough," he decided.
She scoffed; she definitely hadn't heard it in a while, that was for damn sure. With a sigh, she took one last sip and put the bottle down on the grass, she got up, brushing some grass away from her knees, "Ah'm sure it'll be written on my tomb stone some day, when Ah'm gone. Here lies Rogue...a great gal."
"Chere..."
"Listen, Remy...Ah really need to get to bed."
"It ain' that late," he pointed out.
"Maybe, but Ah've got to be up super early, lots to do."
"Of course. The reluctant bridesmaid," he recalled.
"Makeup, hair, helpin' Jean...all that stuff..."
"I get it," he nodded, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long swig, looking somewhat disappointed.
"Ah'll see you at the weddin'."
Remy nodded, "okay...I see y' in the mornin'."
Rogue sighed inwardly as she left him sitting there alone by the lake with the champagne, and with every step she took to her room, she felt the sting of knowing she was one second closer to watching the man she'd been in love with for years about to marry someone else.
End of Part 1