vikingprincess (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} vikingprincess) wrote,@ 2009-07-30 11:53:00 |
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FIC - The Reeducation of Remy LeBeau - 135b - Frost Bites (Adult, Xmen, Rogue/Gambit)
The Reeducation of Remy LeBeau – 135b - Frost Bites
Authors:vikingprincess and SciFiGrl47
Setting: Beyond the Movieverse AU
Characters: Rogue/Gambit, Nightcrawler, Beast, Emma Frost, Wolverine, Dryad, Iceman, Xavier, ensemble
Overall Ratings/Warnings: Adult/NC17 overall (language, violence, sexy goodness)
Summary: Emma continues her winning ways.
Dear Readers: Comments inspire the muse and make her happy!
PLEASE DO NOT ARCHIVE.
All prior chapters can be found here.
__________
Frost Bites
the next morning, quite early
Rogue was far more accustomed than she wanted to be at getting up far too early in the morning and making her way down to the Danger Room for workouts with Wolverine, but being accustomed to it and actually liking it when her sleep was cut that short were two entirely different things.
Today, however, she was positively eager to get down there and face off with the severely annoying Miss Frost, arriving with a minimum of grumbling to herself, a light breakfast and some coffee inside of her, her uniform on and her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail.
Logan was leaning against the wall, looking somewhat bored and vaguely cranky. "Mornin', Stripes," he said, arms crossed over his chest. "Nice of one of you to show up."
The corner of Rogue's mouth twitched upward. "Somehow, Ah been gettin' the feelin' that most kinds of sweatin' aren't entirely up Emma's alley." Carefully, she reinforced her doubled mental shields: those from Xavier's and Jean's extensive training, and those that were hers by right of having stolen them, the jumble of psyches in her head that ran interference against telepaths. "But maybe curiosity'll have her show before too long. Don’t believe anyone’s showed her the DR, y’ know?"
"Or maybe I'll have to go drag her down here by the scruff of her neck," Logan grumbled around the stub of his cigar. "Damn kids, y' nothin' but trouble." But he grinned at Rogue. "You wanna find her, or just mark her AWOL?"
Rogue's almost-smile grew to a rather wicked quarter-smile. "Whatever y' think best, Mr. Logan," she said demurely, her eyes twinkling.
“Don't do that, kid, it's creepy." His grin got wider. "How'd you keep the Cajun from showing up? Thought for sure he'd be on your heels the whole way."
Rogue shrugged one shoulder. "Ah didn't exactly mention as how we were a threesome this mornin', 'stead of just us two."
"That's my girl," Logan said, meaning it.
Rogue's cheeks went pink with pleasure. "Watch it, someone's gonna think y'all're soft or somethin'," she scolded, before glancing at the clock again. "This ain't a fashion show; wonder what's holdin' her up?"
Emma came sashaying down the hall, interrupting the bonding. Her heeled boots tapped on the floor, her head to toe white ensemble made her obvious against the dark metal walls. "Am I late?" she asked, socially polite as always.
"Some," Rogue agreed with a false, neutral smile. It appeared she’d been wrong about the whole fashion show thing, though she couldn't in fairness complain about the heels, but white? Really? Only good in an Arctic scenario, or maybe out on the desert, so far as she could tell. "Is that... velvet," she asked in disbelief.
"There's no reason to dress like a hobo," Emma said with a faint yawn. She looked Rogue's outfit over, opened her mouth, then closed it. "Or, maybe you have your reasons."
Rogue laughed in her face before she could stop herself; after all, the other girl's outfit was close to a mirror of her own. Oh, different materials, white instead of black, higher heels, and a much sluttier neckline, but still. Pretty similar. "Reckon Ah do, at that," she chuckled. "Hope y' got a good drycleaner, there, Emma." Rogue tilted her head toward Logan. "What's the lesson plan f' today, Wolverine?"
"I'm callin' today's lesson, the Danger Room is Nothing to Fuck With, so Let's Be Respectful," Logan said, turning towards the door. "Let's see if either of you can keep your cool for more than fifteen minutes."
"Lovely," Emma said, her voice dripping with disdain.
Rogue's brows crunched together. "That's kind of a vague scenario, ain't it?" Sounded like a time to run a gauntlet, which she personally loved, but it was nothing for a newbie to face! "This a team or solo exercise?"
"Escort mission," he said, teeth gleaming. "Because you've both been pissing me off lately."
"Feeling is mutual," Emma grumbled under her breath.
He chuckled. "Rogue, let's see if you can get her through 'alive,' and just how long it takes you."
Rogue sighed. Damn it, she'd really wanted to go toe to toe with Emma and hurt her some. Now, she'd have to take care of her instead. "All right," she replied to Wolverine, sure he could smell her newly-born irritation, and turned to Emma. "Ah know a lot of what this room's capable of tossin' at us, y'all don't. So do what Ah say, when Ah say it, and maybe y' won't need that drycleaner after all."
Emma tossed her head, her hair flying in a perfect arc. "Like I'd need your help," she snapped back.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of rescuing someone that don't wanna be rescued," Logan said. "And before you even think it, if you drop her somewhere sharp, I will take points off.”
"Ruin all my fun," Rogue said, less than half-kidding. "Ready whenever, then," she added, stepping up to the DR doors.
"Let's just get this over with," Emma said, sounding somewhere between bored and annoyed. "I'd much prefer to be sleeping right now."
"Try to stay conscious," Logan told her, rolling his eyes. "Rogue? I got faith in you.”
"Ah'm touched," she said dryly. "Ah'm also hopin' y'all're gonna be in the observation room," she pointed out. He'd have to go up one level and into the room before they could start the scenario, anyway. Meantime, she could have the pleasure of Emma's company all to her lonesome. What joy.
"Unlike some of your teammates, I'm well aware of the safety protocols," Logan said. With a wave, he headed up the corridor.
Emma sneered at his retreating back. "Ugh. I had such high hopes for that one," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "How do you tolerate this place?" she asked, her offhand tone indicating that she wasn't particularly interested in the answer.
Rogue shrugged, keeping her expression smooth as if she was back in New Orleans the December previously, and didn't dare show an expression that made Remy look weak before the gathered, celebrating Thieves’ Guild. "Guess is just takes not bein' a spoiled brat is all," she said sweetly.
"Mmmm, or just so brain dead that you don't notice how you're wasting your life." Emma brushed an invisible speck from her sleeve.
"Y'all'd surely know more about that," Rogue replied, speaking just a little bit slowly, as though Emma might not quite comprehend English.
Even as the other girl shot her an extremely irritated glance, the Danger Room doors swished quietly open; Wolverine must have moved like lightning to get in place so quick-like. "Playtime," Rogue grinned, letting memories of how tough and yet how entertaining the Danger Room could be, vivid pictures flooding her forebrain on top of the other precautions she'd already taken.
Inside, the room was a scene of urban devastation, splintered remains of buildings and torn apart cars, metal and stone and broken glass scattered like confetti over the buckled street. Someone, somewhere, was screaming, amidst the sound of sirens and creaking metal. There were fires everywhere amidst the remains of the buildings, the flickering light casting shadows across the smoke-filled landscape.
"Charming," Emma said, her voice dry.
The second they'd both entered, the doors had shut, and Wolverine called time-in, Rogue punched Emma, hard and fast, clean across the jaw to knock her out entirely.... just as Wolverine had suggested. Well, sort of suggested. Implied. She caught the sagging Emma, made damned good and sure she was out, and hefted her over one shoulder. Damned if she was going to argue with her stupid, self-centered objective all session!
From above, over the sounds of chaos, Logan's voice could be heard. "Heh. I'd hate Remy, but he really has improved your problem solving skills. I can't let you get off with cheating, though." There was a chuckle, then the car next to her burst into flame. "Move it, Stripes."
Rogue threw Emma over her shoulder, not worried one bit about scuffing the white velvet yoga suit, and got moving, keeping low and taking advantage of cover. "Y'all'd do the same thing," she pointed out. "'Specially if th' objective had a mouth bitchy as this one, and was already fixin' to fight y' the whole dang way!"
She had to find the computer-generated Blackbird; that was always the way these things worked. But without teammates, without a map or a briefing, that was pretty much a matter of serious observation made while hustling the unconscious Frost along. Good thing she knew the X-men's protocol for choosing landing places and dust-offs in her sleep!
The only warning she got before the building up ahead collapsed was the grinding of metal, the stone crashing down in a billow of dust and smoke, obscuring her vision.
Rogue shot into the air, keeping a carefully gentle grip on Emma and a thoroughly firm one on her own nerves - no sense bruising the bitch more than she already had, and she wanted to get this over as quick as she could, which unfortunately meant flying. She managed a brief but comprehensive look at the entire 'battleground,' which made arrowing toward the Blackbird a whole lot easier than it had been. Tempting though it was to stay high, despite her personal fear of heights, she dropped like a roller-coaster without any tracks, and juked her way toward it, keeping close to the ground and whatever cover it offered while still making use of her hated flying power.
Just as the Blackbird was in her sights, near enough that not even any of Logan's tricks could stop her, there was a jerk, and Emma's body suddenly got a lot heavier. Denser. Gone diamond, Rogue realized, even as a fist grabbed her ponytail and yanked, hard enough to jerk the pair of girls into a backwards tumble in the air.
Rogue gritted her teeth and went with it, spinning the both of them to smash Emma headfirst into the pavement as she did her best to sink her super-strong and invulnerable thumbs into some newly diamond and easily reachable knee joints, reasoning that pressure points still ought to work. Rogue didn’t hold back at all with the pressure, and she didn't drop the bitch either, just bounced on her and up again, rebounding with the force of the impact.
"Guess bein' a gold-plated bitch just ain't enough for some folks," she snarled. "And those diamonds? Ain't nobody's best friend!"
"I don't know," Emma snarled, and swung her joined hands down to smash into the back of Rogue's knees. They hit like a hammer, but without much power at all, though the material of her hands was quite hard. "You hit me."
"Reckon Ah'll have t' do it again, just in the interests of completin' the objective," Rogue agreed with a fierce grin. Almost snake-quick, though not so quickly as Remy could have done it, Rogue shrugged Emma's sparkling ass from her shoulder and captured the other girl's ankles in her hands, grip as solid as a pair of titanium shackles. "Y' hit like a sissy gal," she observed mildly, just before swinging Emma into the side of a building headfirst without letting go.
Emma didn't even bother to fight back physically, just slammed into Rogue's mind with all the brute force of her powers, wrapped up in the outrageous pain the hick bitch had just inflicted on her, even through diamond. Apparently, the Professor had been entirely truthful about students who could hurt her, and hurt her badly. How novel.
Her powers hit Rogue's layered shield and psyches, not exactly penetrating, but with the sort of impact designed to hurt as much as possible. Sweetly, she asked, “Better?”
Rogue's head snapped back hard, and her brain felt as though it had just been in a car wreck. She shook her head, and immediately regretted the motion, which made the world spin crazily for a moment. Her hands tightened on Emma's ankles, and she dragged the other girl from the rubble, gritting out, "Yes, an’ also ow," as she let her fears of flying surge to the forefront of her brain in a backhanded psychic attack... and then took off anyway, wobbly in the air, but dangling Emma beneath her like the clapper in a bell as she grimly headed for the Blackbird.
Emma glanced down, weighing the problems a face first impact could present, and lapsed into sullen, seething silence.
Relieved, Rogue poured on the speed, but she wasn't above flying close enough to the rough terrain to give Emma what she hoped was a bad moment or two before they got to the Blackbird and the end of the exercise.
As soon as it was possible to land, Emma gave a kick in her grip. "Fine. We're here. Put me down, so I can go and shower off this experience."
Rogue, no idiot, took Emma inside of the jet before letting go of her, and 'reported' their arrival to her 'team leader.' And she still didn't let go of the telepath until the ramp was closed, either.
Emma made a cursory attempt at brushing off her white suit, now sadly worse for wear. "I so look forward to our actual time in the field," she said to Rogue.
"Ah don't," Rogue replied simply, as the simulation shimmered around them, and vanished. She looked up at the observation and control room, meeting Wolverine's eyes. "Not 'til y' learn some teamwork, any road. Ah wouldn't want to trust any of my friends' lives to your tender care just now, Emma."
"Wonderful. Because the best way to make sure that I'm likely to kill them both deliberately as well as inadvertently is to knock me in the back of the head and treat me as baggage. So delightful that you've made that choice for us all."
Rogue arched an eyebrow at her. "Y' made it real clear that y' weren't interested in teamwork even before we went in. Wolverine gave th' instruction that y'all were someone Ah had to rescue who didn't want to be rescued. Y' got rescued any road. Are y’ angry because Ah took y’ at your word, Emma? Because Ah believed what y’ said?"
"You know what?" Emma said, her voice cold, "I'm on your team. There's only a few teams on the playing field, sweetheart, and I know I won't do well on Magneto’s, and I've already failed the try-outs for the human one. So? I'm on your team. Be the good little soldier girl all you want, but when the world really is burning? Let's see which one of us manages to keep things together, shall we?"
“Been there an’ done that,” Rogue retorted. “And Ah’m bettin’ y’all haven’t, or you’d take trainin’ a damn sight more serious.”
With a flick of her head, Emma turned on her heel and stalked towards the door. "You can mail me my report card; I haven't the least bit of interest in how I rated as 'limp weight.'"
"If y' wanted me to think for one second y'all were serious about bein' on our team... maybe y' ought to have tried a little harder to actually become part of it over this past week," Rogue pointed out through gritted teeth. "Not sowin’ dissension everywhere y’ go, not tryin' to steal boyfriends, not insultin' every little thing about the place that we love as our home and not just a school."
"Oh, I see, so your feelings were hurt? Poor sweet baby. Poor little lamb. How horrible a thing has happened to you, a girl was mean to you!" Emma clutched her chest. "I want so bad to sleep with Remy, not because I even want him, but so I can rub it in your face, you sanctimonious, prissy bitch."
"Y' don't even make the top twenty of horrible things, Emma," Rogue returned evenly, giving herself an imaginary little gold star for not punching the other girl all over again, and much harder this time. "Fact is—" she started, and cut herself off as the Danger Room door opened up to reveal Wolverine.
"Are we bonding yet?" he said, grinning at them.
"Go fuck yourself," Emma said, stalking past him.
"So, that'd be a no," Logan said to Rogue.
Rogue shrugged, her eyes hooded and angry.
"She's got a point, though," Logan said, tugging on one ear. "She's hell on wheels in the personality department, but I think we're better off with her in our corner than being another Magneto."
"Emma'll never be another Magneto, Logan," Rogue sighed. "Y' know why? Emma thinks of Emma first, and the people who can be useful t' her comfort and entertainment second, and other mutants and people as a far distant not quite real third. Ain’t sayin’ that might not change, someday, but today? Not a chance. She may have th' sort of obsession that ol' Bucket Head does, but, based on this last week or so, any road? It’s real narcissistic. Not change the world for th' better so much as change th' world to suit her." She sighed. "It woulda been a whole lot better all around t' be able to like her, but she don't want t' be liked. She prefers t' stir shit up, like a cat only even more self-centered."
Logan nodded, lips quirking at Rogue’s uncharacteristic obscenity. "Ain't arguin' that, Stripes. And I'm not a big fan of her methods, either, but you weren't far off of bitin' the hand that fed you when you arrived."
Rogue eyed him. "Same coulda been said of y'all, too," she pointed out tartly. "And here we both are. But dang it, Wolvie, she don't want t' be here. At all. It ain't a refuge for her, or even a place to learn how to control her powers. She just thinks it's a waste of time." She smiled wanly. "Think that made me angrier than anything. Even more’n her sayin' she wanted to sleep with Remy just because she didn't like me."
He shrugged. "Was that before or after you slugged her?"
"After," Rogue admitted sheepishly. “But Ah really wanted t’ do it again.”
"Well, good you got it outta your system,” he said ironically. “'Cause as it is, Chuck's gonna be chewin' my ass about this. He really does think that with enough universal love and acceptance, we all can get along." Logan stuck his cigar in his mouth. "He's a weird little hippie."
Rogue choked back a snort. "Not how Ah'd phrase it. But can y' just go ahead and ream me out for bad strategy in movin' someone as didn't want t' be moved, please? The suspense is kinda hard t' take."
He reached out one big hand and ruffled her hair. "It's what I woulda done, kid."
Rogue grinned up at him through her disheveled bangs. "Ah'll take that as good." Her smile widened briefly. "Did work, after all. Except seein' as Ah had no idea how tough she was or wasn't, it coulda gotten real bad real quick. Even if the first tap was careful, the others surely weren't."
"Yeah, don't break buildings with your teammate's head." Logan grinned. "As much fun as it may seem at the time."
"Ah utterly refuse to accept the possibility that Emma may be t' me as Scott is to y'all," Rogue teased.
"Does it matter? As long as you win?"
Rogue took a prudent, if mostly joking, step back, and made her voice as innocent as possible. "Can't Ah just think weddin' plans instead?"
"Oh, yeah, marrying the guy'll keep other girls from hitting on him," Logan said, rolling his eyes. "And no. You're not gettin' married. What're you, all of twelve now?"
"Twelve year olds don't, generally speakin', get married," Rogue replied mischievously. "But Ah know th' price of Remy's continued existence is a long engagement, so y' needn't fret overmuch, Logan."
"That's my point. Since you're clearly not of age, there'll be no weddings, or your fiancé an' I'll have a nice chat out behind the boathouse. Or somewhere else where the screams'll be muffled."
"Eight. Teen," Rogue insisted, eyebrows eloquent.
"Like hell you're eighteen," Logan said with the firm denial habits of a man surrounded by attractive teenage girls and horny teenage boys. "Stop thinkin'. It gets Remy in trouble."
"One of us has to," she pointed out. "Think, Ah mean. And speakin' of, should we really be lettin' an annoyed Emma roam around down here unsupervised?"
He sniffed, listened briefly. "She's already headed upstairs. But yeah, let's go make sure she doesn’t take her frustrations out of someone small and slow in the morning. Callie, for example."
"Damn straight," Rogue agreed, and headed for the elevators with alacrity.
*
that afternoon after classes
Logan thumped a fist against Rogue's door. "Hey," he grumbled through the wood, "your problem ain't in his room, an' I don't smell him 'round here, either. You got any idea where the little brat is, or what he's doin' that'll be nothin' but trouble for both of us?"
Rogue glared at the door. All the fun of hitting Emma had long since faded, especially since Remy had been so angry and hurt that she'd gone up against the older girl without even telling him ahead of time that he'd run off somewhere to sulk. It was upsetting for her, and strange for him, and Rogue was fully prepared to take it out on Logan, since he was the one tapping on her door.
"If Ah knew," she spat, "Ah'd be there with him."
Logan sighed. "Darlin’, I've tried hunting him down, and he's ducking me. Which means he's putting a lot of effort into this. More than he usually bothers with. So he's up to something. I don't wanna see the damn idiot get himself expelled, since I do think Chuck's out of patience with all this."
"Remy," Rogue said with precise anger, "ain't the one who's the problem here. And Ah've looked for him everywhere Ah can think to look. An' honestly, Logan? If th' Professor boots him and keeps her, he ain't near the fair-minded man Ah always believed him t' be." She bit her lip. "He goes, so do Ah, any road. But Ah'll look again... and this time, it'll be in a way he don't expect." One she'd hate using, too, but the thought of Remy leaving, for whatever reason, was not to be borne. So she'd take the high ground. Or, well... not ground, exactly.
Logan chuckled. "I'd be more concerned about Remy getting booted 'cause he killed her. In which case, neither of 'em'd still be on the rolls. And we both know it is a possibility, that boy's got a real dark side." He pushed away from the wall. "Give me a call if you find him and need something hidden. Or buried."
"Will do," Rogue agreed, eager enough to find Remy that she was already undressing and trading in her current clothes for things that were light colored and wouldn't show against the sky, should someone look up into the sunny morning. As Logan was stepping out of her door, she was already diving out of her window, her voice floating back to him in a request. "Lock th' door, will y'all?"
Jaw set, she hovered for a moment, just in case Remy had come back to his tree; not finding him, she soared upward, avoiding windows as she went, and started looking for her fiancé with every bit of focus she could muster.
Remy was pacing along the length of the roof, trying to burn off energy and frustration. Barefoot and dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, he wasn't feeling fit for human company, and he tried to convince himself that he wasn't trying to find the easiest, fastest route to Emma's room that was outside the reaches of the security system.
He wasn't very successful in convincing himself of that...
Rogue lofted above the roof, and spotted him there in seconds. Thank God she didn't have to stay in the air for long at all, she thought, and drifted down to land, light as thistledown, by a chimney. Quietly, she waited for him to spot her, not at all sure of what she might say and biting her bottom lip as she thought about it. He'd obviously come up here because he didn't want to talk to her --and normally, she'd never have flown to find him in the first place. Rogue wasn't sure how she felt about Remy using her fear like that, to avoid her. Well, he wouldn't get a chance to do it again, she decided, and crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she leaned against the old brick stack.
He saw her land and released a tense breath. "Dat was some fine flyin', chere," he said, smiling at her. "Dat was a damn fine show." He padded over to her, his feral grace evident in every inch of his body. "You comin' up t' see dis one, den?"
"Pretty sneaky, comin' clear up t' the roof of th' mansion to avoid me," she replied, eyes sober as she rested her hand against his lean cheek. "Ah'd looked pretty near everywhere but here." She paused. "So had Wolvie, darlin'. Reckon we're both a little worried about what y' might be decidin' to do...."
"Dis one ain' fit company from time t' time," Remy said, his voice easy, even if his words weren't. "Wolverine, dis one'll duck, he's been all poky an' growly fo' days. You, no' so much." He grinned, and it was a real expression. " Am proud o' you, chere, fo' comin' up here de way you did."
Rogue's cheeks went pink, and she slid her arms around his waist, needing to be near. "Wouldn't have done it for anyone else, an' that's a fact," she murmured. "But y'all're sorta important to me, Remy-love." She sighed, already feeling better. "Logan did offer to bury anythin' as needed buryin' for us, though."
And if there was burying to do, it'd be him and Logan doing it, that was for damn sure. He was smart enough, and knew enough about the love of his life, to keep that thought to himself. Instead, he hugged her tight, his face buried in her hair, breathing deep of her scent. "Merci, chere, nice t' have friends." His hands slid down to cup the curve of her rear. "Especially friends like you."
Rogue gasped, and snuggled closer. "And here Ah thought we were more than just friends," she purred, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before looking up into his gorgeous gemstone eyes. "Not still annoyed at me for keepin' details of the trainin' this mornin' to myself 'til after?"
Remy made a grumbling growling noise, pouting about it. "Don' like her bein' anywhere near you," he said, lips arching down. "She’s cold as hell an’ ruthless with it, ain' t' be trusted, an' if you gotta go deal wit' her, dis one wants t' be along wit' you. Don' like her. No' at all." He sighed. "But suppose Logan can be trusted t' have you' back."
She smiled gently. "S'pose he can, at that," she teased quietly, kissing her fingertips and pressing them to his wicked mouth, beautiful even in a pout. "Ah love y', Remy LeBeau. More'n anyone."
"Love you, too," he whispered, his eyes dark, his heart aching. "Really wanna go an' beat Emma t' a pulp. Tell dis one dat's a real bad idea, please?"
"That's a real bad idea, darlin'," Rogue repeated obediently, framing his face with her gloved hands and getting as close as she dared. "Plenty of better things t' do in this world. Arrange parole for serial killers. Fund terrorist groups. Clear Hitler's name, poor misunderstood soul that he was." A slow smile crept across her mouth and into her eyes. "Or we could just stay up here for a while...."
"Chere, you' ideas swing between demented an' excellent." He grinned at her. "Do like de way dat mind o' you's works, though." With gentle hands, he pulled her even closer to him, there on the roof. "Gonna hurt her bad if she keeps dis up, Rogue."
"Tried that already," she confessed. "One step into the DR, Ah laid her out. It fit with the scenario," she added, looking defensively up at him, green eyes gone a bit anxious. "Swear it did!"
He chuckled. "Did dis one ask?" he pointed out. He kissed her palm. "Love you even more fo' it." He lifted her by the waist, holding her close to his body so his grace and balance could carry them both along the uneven surface of the roof. "If dis one falls, will you catch 'im?" he whispered to her, his eyes dancing.
Rogue wound her arms around his neck, and laughed. Even her fear of heights couldn't possibly withstand the security of Remy's arms, Remy's love. "Every day from now on int' always," she promised. "Just like y'all'd do for me, Remy-love."
"Thin's are always easier with you," he said, smiling. "An' always a bit brighter, chere." He did a little side step, delicate and light, swirling her in a circle.
Rogue squealed, and laughed. "Easy," she giggled. "Ah must be losin' my touch!"
Remy leaned over to kiss her lips, his usual, heart-breakingly swift touch of their mouths, only enough to make him want more. "Easy," he repeated. "But feel free t' make it harder. Any time, chere."
Rogue gasped, even that hasty kiss enough to have her thoughts veering into dangerous territory, and gave him a tender smile, her cheeks hot and her eyes bright. "License t' torment," she purred. "Like the sound of that...."
"An' when has de lack o' an official license ever bothered you?" Remy said, eyes dancing. "Ain' stopped you one bit from covetin' dis one's bike, oui?"
"Ah only covet it," Rogue corrected him primly, "when y'all're on it. Because y'all are one hot and sexy badass on a regular day, but addin' in y' bike? Brings it to a whole new bad boy level. Come on, Remy, let's go for a ride. Just the thing for avoiding those unpleasant thoughts of Emma for a while, wouldn't y' say?"
Remy sighed, eyes dancing as he tried to look put-upon. "Another in a long line o' ladies who jus' likes dis one fo' de motorcycle," he said, tucking an arm around her waist as he started down the roof. "It jus' seems unfair. Dis one has so many sterlin' qualities. Such as his ability t' drive 'bout wit'out a shirt." He laughed as he jumped them both down to a lower eave, and then to catch a windowsill with his other hand. Swinging them both down, he landed on a narrow ledge.
Rogue squeaked in alarm, and buried her face in his chest, holding more tightly than before. "Warn a gal, Remy," she scolded, toes reaching cautiously for whatever he'd landed on.
He paused, and gently lowered her to the ledge, stabilizing her until she found her balance. "Would never, ever, let you fall," he said, his voice gentle and somehow stern.
"Ah know y' won't," she laughed. "Know it down t' my bones. But a surprise leap'll still get me, every time!" She gave him a teasingly narrow-eyed look. "Reckon as how y' might sometimes even do it on purpose, so Ah'll be all girly and hold on to y' even more'n usual. Which is real sweet, in a backwards kind of way, but still!"
"Clingin' an' shriekin' usually involves lovely breasts bein' pressed against dis one," Remy agreed. "An' occasionally legs wrapped around dis one's hips. Dese are good thin's." He offered her a hand with a bow. "Care t' descend de rest o' de way, chere?"
She laid her hand in his, wary of her balance on the narrow ledge, and lifted her chin in defiance of her pathological fear. "Ready when y'all are," she said.
He lifted her up, one arm around her waist, and kissed her lips again, as he stepped off, taking her with him. Two, three, four hops, and he landed on the stone terrace, long since having finished the kiss. "See? Positive connotations."
"Pavlovian trainin'," she replied mischievously, though her stomach was just a little bit shaky at their swift descent. "Ah want another reward," she added in a husky whisper, winding her arms around his neck again. "Just like almost every second of the day. Well, th' parts when Ah'm awake, any road!"
*
that evening
Callie tapped on the door. It was kind of a just polite warning, rather than a request, before she went in. Emma glanced at her, and, disinterested, went back to her magazine. Callie shut the door behind her. "Confucius say, she who shows off, will likely be shown up at the showdown."
Emma gave her a disdainful look. "I doubt that's an ancient Chinese saying."
"It was in a fortune cookie." Callie gave her a faint smile. "It's true, though. Look, do you like this? Being a pariah, getting thrown around by Rogue, having death threats leveled against you? Seriously? This is how you're going to live your life?"
Emma shrugged one elegant shoulder and turned the page of the magazine. "Hm. Was there a point in there somewhere?"
Callie sighed. "Chill out. Try life here. Or, at the very least, just calm down and plot, okay?"
She snorted. "My, sterling advice from a bouncy, brainless puppy. I feel so… nauseated."
Callie leaned against the door, little chin determined. "Okay. Cards on the table. There are worse places than this, Emma. Maybe it's in your best interest just to adapt, just a little. You've got your own room, your space, you're close to New York City, you have access to a kitchen, cable, internet, ATMs." She took a deep breath.
"Besides, there's rumors about a place families are sending 'inconvenient mutants', Emma. To be deprogrammed, maybe depowered. It might be an urban myth, but I don't think so. I think, as long as people have been around, families have been hiding their 'undesirables.' And your family is very, very fed up with you, I think. So you can chill, and have the Professor send home a couple of good reports, or you can get your ass kicked out of another place, and take your chances."
There was a long moment of silence. Emma studied the magazine in front of her, her face expressionless. "And what do you think will happen?"
"Well, two options. One, you get relief from constant abuse, and I get relief from everyone wanting to kill you. Because you played your hand too early, Emma. You turned too many people against you. Logan's too used to teenage girls trying to rub up against him to ever let you train alone with him, and sparkly diamond you can hurt a lot of us. So... You. Rogue. Every day. And she hates you. Because you pushed her into it, hitting on Remy, hurting Cipher…. She hates you a lot. You're going to get pounded in the DR, and it's even sanctioned." Callie shrugged. "You're screwed. So, maybe you'll come back later and stab us all in the back, but at least we won't have to deal with your bullshit."
A glint of interest showed in Emma’s blue eyes, shaded by what might have been mild worry. "So that's option one. What's the other result?"
Callie grinned. "Maybe you'll drink the Kool-Aid. Hell, it's happened to weirder people. And this place is very effective that way." She clapped her hands. "Okay! Fantastic! See you at breakfast!" She bounced out.
Emma went back to her magazine, a faint but thoughtful sneer on her lovely icy face.
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first half of 'Frost Bites'
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The Reeducation of Remy LeBeau – 135b - Frost Bites
Authors:
vikingprincess and SciFiGrl47 Setting: Beyond the Movieverse AU
Characters: Rogue/Gambit, Nightcrawler, Beast, Emma Frost, Wolverine, Dryad, Iceman, Xavier, ensemble
Overall Ratings/Warnings: Adult/NC17 overall (language, violence, sexy goodness)
Summary: Emma continues her winning ways.
Dear Readers: Comments inspire the muse and make her happy!
PLEASE DO NOT ARCHIVE.
All prior chapters can be found here.
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Frost Bites
the next morning, quite early
Rogue was far more accustomed than she wanted to be at getting up far too early in the morning and making her way down to the Danger Room for workouts with Wolverine, but being accustomed to it and actually liking it when her sleep was cut that short were two entirely different things.
Today, however, she was positively eager to get down there and face off with the severely annoying Miss Frost, arriving with a minimum of grumbling to herself, a light breakfast and some coffee inside of her, her uniform on and her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail.
Logan was leaning against the wall, looking somewhat bored and vaguely cranky. "Mornin', Stripes," he said, arms crossed over his chest. "Nice of one of you to show up."
The corner of Rogue's mouth twitched upward. "Somehow, Ah been gettin' the feelin' that most kinds of sweatin' aren't entirely up Emma's alley." Carefully, she reinforced her doubled mental shields: those from Xavier's and Jean's extensive training, and those that were hers by right of having stolen them, the jumble of psyches in her head that ran interference against telepaths. "But maybe curiosity'll have her show before too long. Don’t believe anyone’s showed her the DR, y’ know?"
"Or maybe I'll have to go drag her down here by the scruff of her neck," Logan grumbled around the stub of his cigar. "Damn kids, y' nothin' but trouble." But he grinned at Rogue. "You wanna find her, or just mark her AWOL?"
Rogue's almost-smile grew to a rather wicked quarter-smile. "Whatever y' think best, Mr. Logan," she said demurely, her eyes twinkling.
“Don't do that, kid, it's creepy." His grin got wider. "How'd you keep the Cajun from showing up? Thought for sure he'd be on your heels the whole way."
Rogue shrugged one shoulder. "Ah didn't exactly mention as how we were a threesome this mornin', 'stead of just us two."
"That's my girl," Logan said, meaning it.
Rogue's cheeks went pink with pleasure. "Watch it, someone's gonna think y'all're soft or somethin'," she scolded, before glancing at the clock again. "This ain't a fashion show; wonder what's holdin' her up?"
Emma came sashaying down the hall, interrupting the bonding. Her heeled boots tapped on the floor, her head to toe white ensemble made her obvious against the dark metal walls. "Am I late?" she asked, socially polite as always.
"Some," Rogue agreed with a false, neutral smile. It appeared she’d been wrong about the whole fashion show thing, though she couldn't in fairness complain about the heels, but white? Really? Only good in an Arctic scenario, or maybe out on the desert, so far as she could tell. "Is that... velvet," she asked in disbelief.
"There's no reason to dress like a hobo," Emma said with a faint yawn. She looked Rogue's outfit over, opened her mouth, then closed it. "Or, maybe you have your reasons."
Rogue laughed in her face before she could stop herself; after all, the other girl's outfit was close to a mirror of her own. Oh, different materials, white instead of black, higher heels, and a much sluttier neckline, but still. Pretty similar. "Reckon Ah do, at that," she chuckled. "Hope y' got a good drycleaner, there, Emma." Rogue tilted her head toward Logan. "What's the lesson plan f' today, Wolverine?"
"I'm callin' today's lesson, the Danger Room is Nothing to Fuck With, so Let's Be Respectful," Logan said, turning towards the door. "Let's see if either of you can keep your cool for more than fifteen minutes."
"Lovely," Emma said, her voice dripping with disdain.
Rogue's brows crunched together. "That's kind of a vague scenario, ain't it?" Sounded like a time to run a gauntlet, which she personally loved, but it was nothing for a newbie to face! "This a team or solo exercise?"
"Escort mission," he said, teeth gleaming. "Because you've both been pissing me off lately."
"Feeling is mutual," Emma grumbled under her breath.
He chuckled. "Rogue, let's see if you can get her through 'alive,' and just how long it takes you."
Rogue sighed. Damn it, she'd really wanted to go toe to toe with Emma and hurt her some. Now, she'd have to take care of her instead. "All right," she replied to Wolverine, sure he could smell her newly-born irritation, and turned to Emma. "Ah know a lot of what this room's capable of tossin' at us, y'all don't. So do what Ah say, when Ah say it, and maybe y' won't need that drycleaner after all."
Emma tossed her head, her hair flying in a perfect arc. "Like I'd need your help," she snapped back.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of rescuing someone that don't wanna be rescued," Logan said. "And before you even think it, if you drop her somewhere sharp, I will take points off.”
"Ruin all my fun," Rogue said, less than half-kidding. "Ready whenever, then," she added, stepping up to the DR doors.
"Let's just get this over with," Emma said, sounding somewhere between bored and annoyed. "I'd much prefer to be sleeping right now."
"Try to stay conscious," Logan told her, rolling his eyes. "Rogue? I got faith in you.”
"Ah'm touched," she said dryly. "Ah'm also hopin' y'all're gonna be in the observation room," she pointed out. He'd have to go up one level and into the room before they could start the scenario, anyway. Meantime, she could have the pleasure of Emma's company all to her lonesome. What joy.
"Unlike some of your teammates, I'm well aware of the safety protocols," Logan said. With a wave, he headed up the corridor.
Emma sneered at his retreating back. "Ugh. I had such high hopes for that one," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "How do you tolerate this place?" she asked, her offhand tone indicating that she wasn't particularly interested in the answer.
Rogue shrugged, keeping her expression smooth as if she was back in New Orleans the December previously, and didn't dare show an expression that made Remy look weak before the gathered, celebrating Thieves’ Guild. "Guess is just takes not bein' a spoiled brat is all," she said sweetly.
"Mmmm, or just so brain dead that you don't notice how you're wasting your life." Emma brushed an invisible speck from her sleeve.
"Y'all'd surely know more about that," Rogue replied, speaking just a little bit slowly, as though Emma might not quite comprehend English.
Even as the other girl shot her an extremely irritated glance, the Danger Room doors swished quietly open; Wolverine must have moved like lightning to get in place so quick-like. "Playtime," Rogue grinned, letting memories of how tough and yet how entertaining the Danger Room could be, vivid pictures flooding her forebrain on top of the other precautions she'd already taken.
Inside, the room was a scene of urban devastation, splintered remains of buildings and torn apart cars, metal and stone and broken glass scattered like confetti over the buckled street. Someone, somewhere, was screaming, amidst the sound of sirens and creaking metal. There were fires everywhere amidst the remains of the buildings, the flickering light casting shadows across the smoke-filled landscape.
"Charming," Emma said, her voice dry.
The second they'd both entered, the doors had shut, and Wolverine called time-in, Rogue punched Emma, hard and fast, clean across the jaw to knock her out entirely.... just as Wolverine had suggested. Well, sort of suggested. Implied. She caught the sagging Emma, made damned good and sure she was out, and hefted her over one shoulder. Damned if she was going to argue with her stupid, self-centered objective all session!
From above, over the sounds of chaos, Logan's voice could be heard. "Heh. I'd hate Remy, but he really has improved your problem solving skills. I can't let you get off with cheating, though." There was a chuckle, then the car next to her burst into flame. "Move it, Stripes."
Rogue threw Emma over her shoulder, not worried one bit about scuffing the white velvet yoga suit, and got moving, keeping low and taking advantage of cover. "Y'all'd do the same thing," she pointed out. "'Specially if th' objective had a mouth bitchy as this one, and was already fixin' to fight y' the whole dang way!"
She had to find the computer-generated Blackbird; that was always the way these things worked. But without teammates, without a map or a briefing, that was pretty much a matter of serious observation made while hustling the unconscious Frost along. Good thing she knew the X-men's protocol for choosing landing places and dust-offs in her sleep!
The only warning she got before the building up ahead collapsed was the grinding of metal, the stone crashing down in a billow of dust and smoke, obscuring her vision.
Rogue shot into the air, keeping a carefully gentle grip on Emma and a thoroughly firm one on her own nerves - no sense bruising the bitch more than she already had, and she wanted to get this over as quick as she could, which unfortunately meant flying. She managed a brief but comprehensive look at the entire 'battleground,' which made arrowing toward the Blackbird a whole lot easier than it had been. Tempting though it was to stay high, despite her personal fear of heights, she dropped like a roller-coaster without any tracks, and juked her way toward it, keeping close to the ground and whatever cover it offered while still making use of her hated flying power.
Just as the Blackbird was in her sights, near enough that not even any of Logan's tricks could stop her, there was a jerk, and Emma's body suddenly got a lot heavier. Denser. Gone diamond, Rogue realized, even as a fist grabbed her ponytail and yanked, hard enough to jerk the pair of girls into a backwards tumble in the air.
Rogue gritted her teeth and went with it, spinning the both of them to smash Emma headfirst into the pavement as she did her best to sink her super-strong and invulnerable thumbs into some newly diamond and easily reachable knee joints, reasoning that pressure points still ought to work. Rogue didn’t hold back at all with the pressure, and she didn't drop the bitch either, just bounced on her and up again, rebounding with the force of the impact.
"Guess bein' a gold-plated bitch just ain't enough for some folks," she snarled. "And those diamonds? Ain't nobody's best friend!"
"I don't know," Emma snarled, and swung her joined hands down to smash into the back of Rogue's knees. They hit like a hammer, but without much power at all, though the material of her hands was quite hard. "You hit me."
"Reckon Ah'll have t' do it again, just in the interests of completin' the objective," Rogue agreed with a fierce grin. Almost snake-quick, though not so quickly as Remy could have done it, Rogue shrugged Emma's sparkling ass from her shoulder and captured the other girl's ankles in her hands, grip as solid as a pair of titanium shackles. "Y' hit like a sissy gal," she observed mildly, just before swinging Emma into the side of a building headfirst without letting go.
Emma didn't even bother to fight back physically, just slammed into Rogue's mind with all the brute force of her powers, wrapped up in the outrageous pain the hick bitch had just inflicted on her, even through diamond. Apparently, the Professor had been entirely truthful about students who could hurt her, and hurt her badly. How novel.
Her powers hit Rogue's layered shield and psyches, not exactly penetrating, but with the sort of impact designed to hurt as much as possible. Sweetly, she asked, “Better?”
Rogue's head snapped back hard, and her brain felt as though it had just been in a car wreck. She shook her head, and immediately regretted the motion, which made the world spin crazily for a moment. Her hands tightened on Emma's ankles, and she dragged the other girl from the rubble, gritting out, "Yes, an’ also ow," as she let her fears of flying surge to the forefront of her brain in a backhanded psychic attack... and then took off anyway, wobbly in the air, but dangling Emma beneath her like the clapper in a bell as she grimly headed for the Blackbird.
Emma glanced down, weighing the problems a face first impact could present, and lapsed into sullen, seething silence.
Relieved, Rogue poured on the speed, but she wasn't above flying close enough to the rough terrain to give Emma what she hoped was a bad moment or two before they got to the Blackbird and the end of the exercise.
As soon as it was possible to land, Emma gave a kick in her grip. "Fine. We're here. Put me down, so I can go and shower off this experience."
Rogue, no idiot, took Emma inside of the jet before letting go of her, and 'reported' their arrival to her 'team leader.' And she still didn't let go of the telepath until the ramp was closed, either.
Emma made a cursory attempt at brushing off her white suit, now sadly worse for wear. "I so look forward to our actual time in the field," she said to Rogue.
"Ah don't," Rogue replied simply, as the simulation shimmered around them, and vanished. She looked up at the observation and control room, meeting Wolverine's eyes. "Not 'til y' learn some teamwork, any road. Ah wouldn't want to trust any of my friends' lives to your tender care just now, Emma."
"Wonderful. Because the best way to make sure that I'm likely to kill them both deliberately as well as inadvertently is to knock me in the back of the head and treat me as baggage. So delightful that you've made that choice for us all."
Rogue arched an eyebrow at her. "Y' made it real clear that y' weren't interested in teamwork even before we went in. Wolverine gave th' instruction that y'all were someone Ah had to rescue who didn't want to be rescued. Y' got rescued any road. Are y’ angry because Ah took y’ at your word, Emma? Because Ah believed what y’ said?"
"You know what?" Emma said, her voice cold, "I'm on your team. There's only a few teams on the playing field, sweetheart, and I know I won't do well on Magneto’s, and I've already failed the try-outs for the human one. So? I'm on your team. Be the good little soldier girl all you want, but when the world really is burning? Let's see which one of us manages to keep things together, shall we?"
“Been there an’ done that,” Rogue retorted. “And Ah’m bettin’ y’all haven’t, or you’d take trainin’ a damn sight more serious.”
With a flick of her head, Emma turned on her heel and stalked towards the door. "You can mail me my report card; I haven't the least bit of interest in how I rated as 'limp weight.'"
"If y' wanted me to think for one second y'all were serious about bein' on our team... maybe y' ought to have tried a little harder to actually become part of it over this past week," Rogue pointed out through gritted teeth. "Not sowin’ dissension everywhere y’ go, not tryin' to steal boyfriends, not insultin' every little thing about the place that we love as our home and not just a school."
"Oh, I see, so your feelings were hurt? Poor sweet baby. Poor little lamb. How horrible a thing has happened to you, a girl was mean to you!" Emma clutched her chest. "I want so bad to sleep with Remy, not because I even want him, but so I can rub it in your face, you sanctimonious, prissy bitch."
"Y' don't even make the top twenty of horrible things, Emma," Rogue returned evenly, giving herself an imaginary little gold star for not punching the other girl all over again, and much harder this time. "Fact is—" she started, and cut herself off as the Danger Room door opened up to reveal Wolverine.
"Are we bonding yet?" he said, grinning at them.
"Go fuck yourself," Emma said, stalking past him.
"So, that'd be a no," Logan said to Rogue.
Rogue shrugged, her eyes hooded and angry.
"She's got a point, though," Logan said, tugging on one ear. "She's hell on wheels in the personality department, but I think we're better off with her in our corner than being another Magneto."
"Emma'll never be another Magneto, Logan," Rogue sighed. "Y' know why? Emma thinks of Emma first, and the people who can be useful t' her comfort and entertainment second, and other mutants and people as a far distant not quite real third. Ain’t sayin’ that might not change, someday, but today? Not a chance. She may have th' sort of obsession that ol' Bucket Head does, but, based on this last week or so, any road? It’s real narcissistic. Not change the world for th' better so much as change th' world to suit her." She sighed. "It woulda been a whole lot better all around t' be able to like her, but she don't want t' be liked. She prefers t' stir shit up, like a cat only even more self-centered."
Logan nodded, lips quirking at Rogue’s uncharacteristic obscenity. "Ain't arguin' that, Stripes. And I'm not a big fan of her methods, either, but you weren't far off of bitin' the hand that fed you when you arrived."
Rogue eyed him. "Same coulda been said of y'all, too," she pointed out tartly. "And here we both are. But dang it, Wolvie, she don't want t' be here. At all. It ain't a refuge for her, or even a place to learn how to control her powers. She just thinks it's a waste of time." She smiled wanly. "Think that made me angrier than anything. Even more’n her sayin' she wanted to sleep with Remy just because she didn't like me."
He shrugged. "Was that before or after you slugged her?"
"After," Rogue admitted sheepishly. “But Ah really wanted t’ do it again.”
"Well, good you got it outta your system,” he said ironically. “'Cause as it is, Chuck's gonna be chewin' my ass about this. He really does think that with enough universal love and acceptance, we all can get along." Logan stuck his cigar in his mouth. "He's a weird little hippie."
Rogue choked back a snort. "Not how Ah'd phrase it. But can y' just go ahead and ream me out for bad strategy in movin' someone as didn't want t' be moved, please? The suspense is kinda hard t' take."
He reached out one big hand and ruffled her hair. "It's what I woulda done, kid."
Rogue grinned up at him through her disheveled bangs. "Ah'll take that as good." Her smile widened briefly. "Did work, after all. Except seein' as Ah had no idea how tough she was or wasn't, it coulda gotten real bad real quick. Even if the first tap was careful, the others surely weren't."
"Yeah, don't break buildings with your teammate's head." Logan grinned. "As much fun as it may seem at the time."
"Ah utterly refuse to accept the possibility that Emma may be t' me as Scott is to y'all," Rogue teased.
"Does it matter? As long as you win?"
Rogue took a prudent, if mostly joking, step back, and made her voice as innocent as possible. "Can't Ah just think weddin' plans instead?"
"Oh, yeah, marrying the guy'll keep other girls from hitting on him," Logan said, rolling his eyes. "And no. You're not gettin' married. What're you, all of twelve now?"
"Twelve year olds don't, generally speakin', get married," Rogue replied mischievously. "But Ah know th' price of Remy's continued existence is a long engagement, so y' needn't fret overmuch, Logan."
"That's my point. Since you're clearly not of age, there'll be no weddings, or your fiancé an' I'll have a nice chat out behind the boathouse. Or somewhere else where the screams'll be muffled."
"Eight. Teen," Rogue insisted, eyebrows eloquent.
"Like hell you're eighteen," Logan said with the firm denial habits of a man surrounded by attractive teenage girls and horny teenage boys. "Stop thinkin'. It gets Remy in trouble."
"One of us has to," she pointed out. "Think, Ah mean. And speakin' of, should we really be lettin' an annoyed Emma roam around down here unsupervised?"
He sniffed, listened briefly. "She's already headed upstairs. But yeah, let's go make sure she doesn’t take her frustrations out of someone small and slow in the morning. Callie, for example."
"Damn straight," Rogue agreed, and headed for the elevators with alacrity.
*
that afternoon after classes
Logan thumped a fist against Rogue's door. "Hey," he grumbled through the wood, "your problem ain't in his room, an' I don't smell him 'round here, either. You got any idea where the little brat is, or what he's doin' that'll be nothin' but trouble for both of us?"
Rogue glared at the door. All the fun of hitting Emma had long since faded, especially since Remy had been so angry and hurt that she'd gone up against the older girl without even telling him ahead of time that he'd run off somewhere to sulk. It was upsetting for her, and strange for him, and Rogue was fully prepared to take it out on Logan, since he was the one tapping on her door.
"If Ah knew," she spat, "Ah'd be there with him."
Logan sighed. "Darlin’, I've tried hunting him down, and he's ducking me. Which means he's putting a lot of effort into this. More than he usually bothers with. So he's up to something. I don't wanna see the damn idiot get himself expelled, since I do think Chuck's out of patience with all this."
"Remy," Rogue said with precise anger, "ain't the one who's the problem here. And Ah've looked for him everywhere Ah can think to look. An' honestly, Logan? If th' Professor boots him and keeps her, he ain't near the fair-minded man Ah always believed him t' be." She bit her lip. "He goes, so do Ah, any road. But Ah'll look again... and this time, it'll be in a way he don't expect." One she'd hate using, too, but the thought of Remy leaving, for whatever reason, was not to be borne. So she'd take the high ground. Or, well... not ground, exactly.
Logan chuckled. "I'd be more concerned about Remy getting booted 'cause he killed her. In which case, neither of 'em'd still be on the rolls. And we both know it is a possibility, that boy's got a real dark side." He pushed away from the wall. "Give me a call if you find him and need something hidden. Or buried."
"Will do," Rogue agreed, eager enough to find Remy that she was already undressing and trading in her current clothes for things that were light colored and wouldn't show against the sky, should someone look up into the sunny morning. As Logan was stepping out of her door, she was already diving out of her window, her voice floating back to him in a request. "Lock th' door, will y'all?"
Jaw set, she hovered for a moment, just in case Remy had come back to his tree; not finding him, she soared upward, avoiding windows as she went, and started looking for her fiancé with every bit of focus she could muster.
Remy was pacing along the length of the roof, trying to burn off energy and frustration. Barefoot and dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, he wasn't feeling fit for human company, and he tried to convince himself that he wasn't trying to find the easiest, fastest route to Emma's room that was outside the reaches of the security system.
He wasn't very successful in convincing himself of that...
Rogue lofted above the roof, and spotted him there in seconds. Thank God she didn't have to stay in the air for long at all, she thought, and drifted down to land, light as thistledown, by a chimney. Quietly, she waited for him to spot her, not at all sure of what she might say and biting her bottom lip as she thought about it. He'd obviously come up here because he didn't want to talk to her --and normally, she'd never have flown to find him in the first place. Rogue wasn't sure how she felt about Remy using her fear like that, to avoid her. Well, he wouldn't get a chance to do it again, she decided, and crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she leaned against the old brick stack.
He saw her land and released a tense breath. "Dat was some fine flyin', chere," he said, smiling at her. "Dat was a damn fine show." He padded over to her, his feral grace evident in every inch of his body. "You comin' up t' see dis one, den?"
"Pretty sneaky, comin' clear up t' the roof of th' mansion to avoid me," she replied, eyes sober as she rested her hand against his lean cheek. "Ah'd looked pretty near everywhere but here." She paused. "So had Wolvie, darlin'. Reckon we're both a little worried about what y' might be decidin' to do...."
"Dis one ain' fit company from time t' time," Remy said, his voice easy, even if his words weren't. "Wolverine, dis one'll duck, he's been all poky an' growly fo' days. You, no' so much." He grinned, and it was a real expression. " Am proud o' you, chere, fo' comin' up here de way you did."
Rogue's cheeks went pink, and she slid her arms around his waist, needing to be near. "Wouldn't have done it for anyone else, an' that's a fact," she murmured. "But y'all're sorta important to me, Remy-love." She sighed, already feeling better. "Logan did offer to bury anythin' as needed buryin' for us, though."
And if there was burying to do, it'd be him and Logan doing it, that was for damn sure. He was smart enough, and knew enough about the love of his life, to keep that thought to himself. Instead, he hugged her tight, his face buried in her hair, breathing deep of her scent. "Merci, chere, nice t' have friends." His hands slid down to cup the curve of her rear. "Especially friends like you."
Rogue gasped, and snuggled closer. "And here Ah thought we were more than just friends," she purred, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before looking up into his gorgeous gemstone eyes. "Not still annoyed at me for keepin' details of the trainin' this mornin' to myself 'til after?"
Remy made a grumbling growling noise, pouting about it. "Don' like her bein' anywhere near you," he said, lips arching down. "She’s cold as hell an’ ruthless with it, ain' t' be trusted, an' if you gotta go deal wit' her, dis one wants t' be along wit' you. Don' like her. No' at all." He sighed. "But suppose Logan can be trusted t' have you' back."
She smiled gently. "S'pose he can, at that," she teased quietly, kissing her fingertips and pressing them to his wicked mouth, beautiful even in a pout. "Ah love y', Remy LeBeau. More'n anyone."
"Love you, too," he whispered, his eyes dark, his heart aching. "Really wanna go an' beat Emma t' a pulp. Tell dis one dat's a real bad idea, please?"
"That's a real bad idea, darlin'," Rogue repeated obediently, framing his face with her gloved hands and getting as close as she dared. "Plenty of better things t' do in this world. Arrange parole for serial killers. Fund terrorist groups. Clear Hitler's name, poor misunderstood soul that he was." A slow smile crept across her mouth and into her eyes. "Or we could just stay up here for a while...."
"Chere, you' ideas swing between demented an' excellent." He grinned at her. "Do like de way dat mind o' you's works, though." With gentle hands, he pulled her even closer to him, there on the roof. "Gonna hurt her bad if she keeps dis up, Rogue."
"Tried that already," she confessed. "One step into the DR, Ah laid her out. It fit with the scenario," she added, looking defensively up at him, green eyes gone a bit anxious. "Swear it did!"
He chuckled. "Did dis one ask?" he pointed out. He kissed her palm. "Love you even more fo' it." He lifted her by the waist, holding her close to his body so his grace and balance could carry them both along the uneven surface of the roof. "If dis one falls, will you catch 'im?" he whispered to her, his eyes dancing.
Rogue wound her arms around his neck, and laughed. Even her fear of heights couldn't possibly withstand the security of Remy's arms, Remy's love. "Every day from now on int' always," she promised. "Just like y'all'd do for me, Remy-love."
"Thin's are always easier with you," he said, smiling. "An' always a bit brighter, chere." He did a little side step, delicate and light, swirling her in a circle.
Rogue squealed, and laughed. "Easy," she giggled. "Ah must be losin' my touch!"
Remy leaned over to kiss her lips, his usual, heart-breakingly swift touch of their mouths, only enough to make him want more. "Easy," he repeated. "But feel free t' make it harder. Any time, chere."
Rogue gasped, even that hasty kiss enough to have her thoughts veering into dangerous territory, and gave him a tender smile, her cheeks hot and her eyes bright. "License t' torment," she purred. "Like the sound of that...."
"An' when has de lack o' an official license ever bothered you?" Remy said, eyes dancing. "Ain' stopped you one bit from covetin' dis one's bike, oui?"
"Ah only covet it," Rogue corrected him primly, "when y'all're on it. Because y'all are one hot and sexy badass on a regular day, but addin' in y' bike? Brings it to a whole new bad boy level. Come on, Remy, let's go for a ride. Just the thing for avoiding those unpleasant thoughts of Emma for a while, wouldn't y' say?"
Remy sighed, eyes dancing as he tried to look put-upon. "Another in a long line o' ladies who jus' likes dis one fo' de motorcycle," he said, tucking an arm around her waist as he started down the roof. "It jus' seems unfair. Dis one has so many sterlin' qualities. Such as his ability t' drive 'bout wit'out a shirt." He laughed as he jumped them both down to a lower eave, and then to catch a windowsill with his other hand. Swinging them both down, he landed on a narrow ledge.
Rogue squeaked in alarm, and buried her face in his chest, holding more tightly than before. "Warn a gal, Remy," she scolded, toes reaching cautiously for whatever he'd landed on.
He paused, and gently lowered her to the ledge, stabilizing her until she found her balance. "Would never, ever, let you fall," he said, his voice gentle and somehow stern.
"Ah know y' won't," she laughed. "Know it down t' my bones. But a surprise leap'll still get me, every time!" She gave him a teasingly narrow-eyed look. "Reckon as how y' might sometimes even do it on purpose, so Ah'll be all girly and hold on to y' even more'n usual. Which is real sweet, in a backwards kind of way, but still!"
"Clingin' an' shriekin' usually involves lovely breasts bein' pressed against dis one," Remy agreed. "An' occasionally legs wrapped around dis one's hips. Dese are good thin's." He offered her a hand with a bow. "Care t' descend de rest o' de way, chere?"
She laid her hand in his, wary of her balance on the narrow ledge, and lifted her chin in defiance of her pathological fear. "Ready when y'all are," she said.
He lifted her up, one arm around her waist, and kissed her lips again, as he stepped off, taking her with him. Two, three, four hops, and he landed on the stone terrace, long since having finished the kiss. "See? Positive connotations."
"Pavlovian trainin'," she replied mischievously, though her stomach was just a little bit shaky at their swift descent. "Ah want another reward," she added in a husky whisper, winding her arms around his neck again. "Just like almost every second of the day. Well, th' parts when Ah'm awake, any road!"
*
that evening
Callie tapped on the door. It was kind of a just polite warning, rather than a request, before she went in. Emma glanced at her, and, disinterested, went back to her magazine. Callie shut the door behind her. "Confucius say, she who shows off, will likely be shown up at the showdown."
Emma gave her a disdainful look. "I doubt that's an ancient Chinese saying."
"It was in a fortune cookie." Callie gave her a faint smile. "It's true, though. Look, do you like this? Being a pariah, getting thrown around by Rogue, having death threats leveled against you? Seriously? This is how you're going to live your life?"
Emma shrugged one elegant shoulder and turned the page of the magazine. "Hm. Was there a point in there somewhere?"
Callie sighed. "Chill out. Try life here. Or, at the very least, just calm down and plot, okay?"
She snorted. "My, sterling advice from a bouncy, brainless puppy. I feel so… nauseated."
Callie leaned against the door, little chin determined. "Okay. Cards on the table. There are worse places than this, Emma. Maybe it's in your best interest just to adapt, just a little. You've got your own room, your space, you're close to New York City, you have access to a kitchen, cable, internet, ATMs." She took a deep breath.
"Besides, there's rumors about a place families are sending 'inconvenient mutants', Emma. To be deprogrammed, maybe depowered. It might be an urban myth, but I don't think so. I think, as long as people have been around, families have been hiding their 'undesirables.' And your family is very, very fed up with you, I think. So you can chill, and have the Professor send home a couple of good reports, or you can get your ass kicked out of another place, and take your chances."
There was a long moment of silence. Emma studied the magazine in front of her, her face expressionless. "And what do you think will happen?"
"Well, two options. One, you get relief from constant abuse, and I get relief from everyone wanting to kill you. Because you played your hand too early, Emma. You turned too many people against you. Logan's too used to teenage girls trying to rub up against him to ever let you train alone with him, and sparkly diamond you can hurt a lot of us. So... You. Rogue. Every day. And she hates you. Because you pushed her into it, hitting on Remy, hurting Cipher…. She hates you a lot. You're going to get pounded in the DR, and it's even sanctioned." Callie shrugged. "You're screwed. So, maybe you'll come back later and stab us all in the back, but at least we won't have to deal with your bullshit."
A glint of interest showed in Emma’s blue eyes, shaded by what might have been mild worry. "So that's option one. What's the other result?"
Callie grinned. "Maybe you'll drink the Kool-Aid. Hell, it's happened to weirder people. And this place is very effective that way." She clapped her hands. "Okay! Fantastic! See you at breakfast!" She bounced out.
Emma went back to her magazine, a faint but thoughtful sneer on her lovely icy face.
first half of 'Frost Bites'
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