The two teenagers exchanged glances. "Relax, homme, we just wanna talk," Remy said, using his charm powers to try and smooth the situation over a bit.
"Talk?" The man said suspiciously, as if he suspected "talk" was just a euphemism for something far less pleasant like "torture."
"Oui, talk." Remy nodded.
"Can we come in?"
The blond looked as if he was debating whether or not to slam the door in their faces. Finally he stepped aside.
"Thanks," Rogue said for herself and Remy as they walked past him into the penthouse. Remy whistled through his teeth as his eyes glazed over. The sheer amount of expensive items in the penthouse was enough to have him planning out possible heists. Rogue elbowed him. He looked at her with puppy eyes, but she simply shook her head and mouthed "no". He pouted, nodding that she was right, but the thought remained in his mind purely for entertainment purposes. He liked to think of it as a hobby.
The man shut the door behind them, but, skeptically, didn't move away from it. "So... what did you want to talk about?"
Remy sat himself down and patted the seat next to him for Rogue. She sat and looked to the blond man. "We're not gonna bite ya. Jus' come sit."
The man looked even further estranged with her terminology. "Good job, chere," Remy whispered to her, then added, in a normal tone to the other man, "How 'bout we start dis out wit' introductions?"
The "angel" seemed to weigh the safety of that option in his head before nodding. "That sounds good."
Remy smiled. "I be Remy LeBeau. Dis is Rogue."
"Rogue...?" He asked, expecting a last name.
"Yep," she grinned. "Jus' Rogue. You?"
"Warren Worthington III."
"Nice name." Rogue smiled at him.
"Thank you." The man looked a little more relaxed and sat down. There was an awkward silence.
"Okay, this is goin' ta sound really intrusive considerin' we just met but..." Rogue paused and bit her lip, looking hesitant but a bit hopeful at the same time. "Um... can Ah see your wings?"
"What?" The man looked briefly startled and then sighed. "I suppose so... since you already know anyway." He shrugged, and stood, shedding first the duster then the shirt. Barechested, he spread his wings to their full 16-foot wingspan.
Rogue had a look of pure awe and amazement on her face. "Wow... They're beautiful."
Warren smiled slightly. "It's not that often I get to show them off like this. People are usually freaked out."
Remy, on the other hand, was a bit less than impressed. He did NOT like the look on Rogue's face, and liked Warren's tone of voice even LESS. 'Maybe y' jus' bein' possessive, homme...'
'Non, y' not. Dat guy be flirtin' wit' dat innocent act. Knock him out, LeBeau!'
'Don' be crazy... it be jus' a friendly conversation.'
"Stop," Remy muttered aloud to the quarreling voices.
Rogue looked over to him. "Ya okay?"
He huffed, being more biased towards the devil on his shoulder instead of the "angel". Besides, he was arguing over an angel, so why should he agree with his shoulder one, right? That would just be contradictory! "Don' worry 'bout it," he said, deciding to just watch how she acted from that moment on.
"Well, that's sorta what we're here about. We live at a school for mutants. Ah know you're older than us so ya wouldn't need ta go ta school... but if ya wanted to just go somewhere where ya wouldn't be judged just 'cause you're different..." she trailed off.
"Havin' trouble formin' words, dere, cherie?" Remy absently remarked, making eye contact with neither her nor Warren.
"This is only a li'l bit awkward foh the BOTH of us, if ya hadn't noticed, Remy."
"I ain' de one wit' pink cheeks."
She turned to glare at him. "An' what was THAT supposed ta mean?"
"Y're a smart girl. Figure it out."
The tension level in the room shot up, the atmosphere becoming almost oppressive, like the air just before a storm. "Umm..." Warren added, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to the southerners' conversation.
"Somet'in' dat needs addin', Bird Boy?" Remy all but barked at him.
"Hey, wait just a minute there-"
"Remy, don't ya think you're bein' jus' a bit outta line?"
"A bit outta line?! Chere, y' been droolin' all over him since de second we walked in here." He turned to Warren. "An' y' jus' had t' take off y' shirt too, didn' y' homme? M'sieu Playboy, I see." In his head, the devil was chanting him on while he held down the squirming angel. It felt so good to Remy.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Ah'm in love with ya and ya KNOW it! What else do you fuckin' WANT from me?! No one can touch me! Ya wanna lock me up so no one can look at me either?! Ya own me mind, body, and soul! If that's not enough for you then Ah don't know what is..." The last part was whispered, and full of hurt, her anger spent.
Warren glanced back and forth between the two of them. 'Yeah... as if I wasn't uncomfortable before...' His eyes averted to the shirt at his feet. Should he even bother to put it back on or even reach for it? He was pretty sure this French guy could knock him out good, and the damage was already done...
He reached down to scoop it off the floor, sure to make no sudden movements. Luckily for him, neither Rogue nor Remy saw him pick it up and begin slipping it back on. At the moment he was of no consequence to them.
"Chere... Merde." He had to look away from her. The intensity of her eyes made him think of how his own flared up when he was emotional. "It's jus' dat sometimes..."
"Sometimes what, Rem?" The question was without anger, but it didn't sound forgiving either.
"I jus' don' know. It's not as if I doubt us... but y' can' help but t'ink what happens if someone else better dan us comes along f'r each ot'er. We're both stubborn, envy stricken li'l shits sometimes, y' know?"
The faintest smile flashed across her face at his terminology, but faded immediately. He still caught it though. "Yeah... we are." She paused for a moment. "Ah can't imagine anyone better than you though," Rogue's voice was soft but sincere.
Warren shifted uncomfortably, feeling almost like a voyeur. Both of them seemed to have forgotten he was there, forgotten anything existed except them, for that matter.
A small smirk played at Remy's lips. "Are y' as turned on as I am right now?"
"Oh shuttup!" She laughed, smacking him playfully, but a bit hard across the shoulder.
He rubbed his shoulder, glancing briefly over to Warren and then back to her. "But I know y' are, chere..."
She glared at him. "Don't test me, Swamp Rat."
"But it's so fun to!"
"You're horrible."
At this point, Warren had somehow gotten his shirt back on, and wasn't oblivious to the banter he was observing. He cleared his throat, which surprisingly got Rogue and Remy's attention. "Can I offer you two a drink and we can actually discuss why you were looking for me?"
Remy grinned. "Now y' talkin'."
"Water? Orange Juice? Coke?"
Remy sighed disappointedly. "Coke's fine."
Rogue bit her lip to hide a grin. "Juice for me, please," she said sounding like she was trying not to laugh.
Remy glared at her half-heartedly.
Warren frowned, glancing back and forth between the two. "Did I miss something?"
Rogue smiled pleasantly. "Of course not. Anyway, where were we before we got distracted?"
Warren blinked and sipped his white Russian that had been sitting there since before they'd shown up. "You were talking about your school?" Remy watched the glass with envy, while drinking his simple coke. It was as if he could discern the vodka, kaluha and cream swirling around in the tall glass.
Rogue patted him on the leg, gaining his attention. "No," she mouthed, shaking her head at the same time. Turning back to Warren, she began talking about how the school was run, kind of dressing it up for the sake of bringing him back. If they pulled this off, imagine what Xavier would let them do.
Suddenly there was a humming sound, low almost out of the range of human hearing and the doors swung open. None other than the Master of Magnetism floated in.
Warren raised his eyebrows. "Is there anyone who doesn't know I'm a mutant?" he asked sarcastically.
Instantly, Remy and Rogue were on their feet, positioning themselves between Warren and Magneto. "What do ya want?" Rogue asked, eyes glaring.
"For Mr. Worthington to join me," he stated calmly, eyes glowing beneath his helmet.
"I t'ink it's safe t' say he's not interested."
Magneto's eyes narrowed even more on Warren. "Is this true?"
"Umm... I'm not sure. You're coming off a bit too ominous for my tastes..." He sipped his drink again, having the distinct feeling he would need the calming effect of the alcohol before the night was through.
For a moment it looked as if Magneto was going to snap his fingers. "Fine. But this is not over!" He rose off the ground, crackling with magnetic energy. As he left they could have sworn they heard him mutter, "I can find better followers elsewhere!"
They three were silent for a moment. "Okay, dat was weird."
"Tell me about it," Warren sighed. He hooked a thumb in the direction of the doors. "Do you guys know him well?"
"He WAS dead foh awhile, Ah think... but apparently not. It's so hard ta keep up with things like that."
"It's so hard t' keep people like dat dead dough, cherie."
"It'd be a lot easier if it wasn't."
Warren just blinked. "Umm... yeah. Anyway-"
"Raht, our school!" Rogue sipped her drink and glanced towards the door, expecting some sort of distraction to come up yet again. When none came, she started the spiel about the school and all that fun mutant rights stuff that the professor urged them to spoon-feed any potential recruits.
Warren raised an eyebrow. "You two sure this isn't a cult?"
Remy and Rogue looked at him expressionlessly and responded together in monotone. "We follow the Bald One."
It was comical how much Warren's eyes widened. It took everything Rogue had not to burst out laughing. Remy kept his poker face up, of course. "I, umm, think you should leave..."
It was then Rogue giggled hysterically. "We're jus' messin'. It ain't a cult or a religious group of any sort. It's jus' a place t' belong."
Warren shook his head looking vaguely disturbed but gave them a small, wry smile after a moment. "I'll think about it."
"K." Rogue fished in her pockets and came up with a business card. It had Xavier Institute along with the address and phone number printed in black calligraphy. She handed it to Warren.
"Now if y'll excuse us we got clubs t' hit."
"Wait... that's it?"
Remy stood up and helped Rogue up as well. "What did y' t'ink we were gon' do? Hang out here all night until y' said oui? We're not like dat, homme."
"Yeah. It's not an obligatory thing... either yes or no whenever ya come ta a decision." They started towards the door. "We'll be waitin' foh an answer, but if not, have a nice life."
"Wait, don't leave yet." He got up as well. Rogue and Remy stared at him, appalled. Warren blushed and looked at his feet. "I... I'm tired of being alone... especially it being Christmas and all..."
The two looked at him and then each other with raised eyebrows. After putting their heads together and conferring in whispers for a few moments they straightened.
"Ya're welcome ta come with us if ya want, unless ya got a better idea o' how ta kill some time."
TBC...
"Talk?" The man said suspiciously, as if he suspected "talk" was just a euphemism for something far less pleasant like "torture."
"Oui, talk." Remy nodded.
"Can we come in?"
The blond looked as if he was debating whether or not to slam the door in their faces. Finally he stepped aside.
"Thanks," Rogue said for herself and Remy as they walked past him into the penthouse. Remy whistled through his teeth as his eyes glazed over. The sheer amount of expensive items in the penthouse was enough to have him planning out possible heists. Rogue elbowed him. He looked at her with puppy eyes, but she simply shook her head and mouthed "no". He pouted, nodding that she was right, but the thought remained in his mind purely for entertainment purposes. He liked to think of it as a hobby.
The man shut the door behind them, but, skeptically, didn't move away from it. "So... what did you want to talk about?"
Remy sat himself down and patted the seat next to him for Rogue. She sat and looked to the blond man. "We're not gonna bite ya. Jus' come sit."
The man looked even further estranged with her terminology. "Good job, chere," Remy whispered to her, then added, in a normal tone to the other man, "How 'bout we start dis out wit' introductions?"
The "angel" seemed to weigh the safety of that option in his head before nodding. "That sounds good."
Remy smiled. "I be Remy LeBeau. Dis is Rogue."
"Rogue...?" He asked, expecting a last name.
"Yep," she grinned. "Jus' Rogue. You?"
"Warren Worthington III."
"Nice name." Rogue smiled at him.
"Thank you." The man looked a little more relaxed and sat down. There was an awkward silence.
"Okay, this is goin' ta sound really intrusive considerin' we just met but..." Rogue paused and bit her lip, looking hesitant but a bit hopeful at the same time. "Um... can Ah see your wings?"
"What?" The man looked briefly startled and then sighed. "I suppose so... since you already know anyway." He shrugged, and stood, shedding first the duster then the shirt. Barechested, he spread his wings to their full 16-foot wingspan.
Rogue had a look of pure awe and amazement on her face. "Wow... They're beautiful."
Warren smiled slightly. "It's not that often I get to show them off like this. People are usually freaked out."
Remy, on the other hand, was a bit less than impressed. He did NOT like the look on Rogue's face, and liked Warren's tone of voice even LESS. 'Maybe y' jus' bein' possessive, homme...'
'Non, y' not. Dat guy be flirtin' wit' dat innocent act. Knock him out, LeBeau!'
'Don' be crazy... it be jus' a friendly conversation.'
"Stop," Remy muttered aloud to the quarreling voices.
Rogue looked over to him. "Ya okay?"
He huffed, being more biased towards the devil on his shoulder instead of the "angel". Besides, he was arguing over an angel, so why should he agree with his shoulder one, right? That would just be contradictory! "Don' worry 'bout it," he said, deciding to just watch how she acted from that moment on.
"Well, that's sorta what we're here about. We live at a school for mutants. Ah know you're older than us so ya wouldn't need ta go ta school... but if ya wanted to just go somewhere where ya wouldn't be judged just 'cause you're different..." she trailed off.
"Havin' trouble formin' words, dere, cherie?" Remy absently remarked, making eye contact with neither her nor Warren.
"This is only a li'l bit awkward foh the BOTH of us, if ya hadn't noticed, Remy."
"I ain' de one wit' pink cheeks."
She turned to glare at him. "An' what was THAT supposed ta mean?"
"Y're a smart girl. Figure it out."
The tension level in the room shot up, the atmosphere becoming almost oppressive, like the air just before a storm. "Umm..." Warren added, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond to the southerners' conversation.
"Somet'in' dat needs addin', Bird Boy?" Remy all but barked at him.
"Hey, wait just a minute there-"
"Remy, don't ya think you're bein' jus' a bit outta line?"
"A bit outta line?! Chere, y' been droolin' all over him since de second we walked in here." He turned to Warren. "An' y' jus' had t' take off y' shirt too, didn' y' homme? M'sieu Playboy, I see." In his head, the devil was chanting him on while he held down the squirming angel. It felt so good to Remy.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Ah'm in love with ya and ya KNOW it! What else do you fuckin' WANT from me?! No one can touch me! Ya wanna lock me up so no one can look at me either?! Ya own me mind, body, and soul! If that's not enough for you then Ah don't know what is..." The last part was whispered, and full of hurt, her anger spent.
Warren glanced back and forth between the two of them. 'Yeah... as if I wasn't uncomfortable before...' His eyes averted to the shirt at his feet. Should he even bother to put it back on or even reach for it? He was pretty sure this French guy could knock him out good, and the damage was already done...
He reached down to scoop it off the floor, sure to make no sudden movements. Luckily for him, neither Rogue nor Remy saw him pick it up and begin slipping it back on. At the moment he was of no consequence to them.
"Chere... Merde." He had to look away from her. The intensity of her eyes made him think of how his own flared up when he was emotional. "It's jus' dat sometimes..."
"Sometimes what, Rem?" The question was without anger, but it didn't sound forgiving either.
"I jus' don' know. It's not as if I doubt us... but y' can' help but t'ink what happens if someone else better dan us comes along f'r each ot'er. We're both stubborn, envy stricken li'l shits sometimes, y' know?"
The faintest smile flashed across her face at his terminology, but faded immediately. He still caught it though. "Yeah... we are." She paused for a moment. "Ah can't imagine anyone better than you though," Rogue's voice was soft but sincere.
Warren shifted uncomfortably, feeling almost like a voyeur. Both of them seemed to have forgotten he was there, forgotten anything existed except them, for that matter.
A small smirk played at Remy's lips. "Are y' as turned on as I am right now?"
"Oh shuttup!" She laughed, smacking him playfully, but a bit hard across the shoulder.
He rubbed his shoulder, glancing briefly over to Warren and then back to her. "But I know y' are, chere..."
She glared at him. "Don't test me, Swamp Rat."
"But it's so fun to!"
"You're horrible."
At this point, Warren had somehow gotten his shirt back on, and wasn't oblivious to the banter he was observing. He cleared his throat, which surprisingly got Rogue and Remy's attention. "Can I offer you two a drink and we can actually discuss why you were looking for me?"
Remy grinned. "Now y' talkin'."
"Water? Orange Juice? Coke?"
Remy sighed disappointedly. "Coke's fine."
Rogue bit her lip to hide a grin. "Juice for me, please," she said sounding like she was trying not to laugh.
Remy glared at her half-heartedly.
Warren frowned, glancing back and forth between the two. "Did I miss something?"
Rogue smiled pleasantly. "Of course not. Anyway, where were we before we got distracted?"
Warren blinked and sipped his white Russian that had been sitting there since before they'd shown up. "You were talking about your school?" Remy watched the glass with envy, while drinking his simple coke. It was as if he could discern the vodka, kaluha and cream swirling around in the tall glass.
Rogue patted him on the leg, gaining his attention. "No," she mouthed, shaking her head at the same time. Turning back to Warren, she began talking about how the school was run, kind of dressing it up for the sake of bringing him back. If they pulled this off, imagine what Xavier would let them do.
Suddenly there was a humming sound, low almost out of the range of human hearing and the doors swung open. None other than the Master of Magnetism floated in.
Warren raised his eyebrows. "Is there anyone who doesn't know I'm a mutant?" he asked sarcastically.
Instantly, Remy and Rogue were on their feet, positioning themselves between Warren and Magneto. "What do ya want?" Rogue asked, eyes glaring.
"For Mr. Worthington to join me," he stated calmly, eyes glowing beneath his helmet.
"I t'ink it's safe t' say he's not interested."
Magneto's eyes narrowed even more on Warren. "Is this true?"
"Umm... I'm not sure. You're coming off a bit too ominous for my tastes..." He sipped his drink again, having the distinct feeling he would need the calming effect of the alcohol before the night was through.
For a moment it looked as if Magneto was going to snap his fingers. "Fine. But this is not over!" He rose off the ground, crackling with magnetic energy. As he left they could have sworn they heard him mutter, "I can find better followers elsewhere!"
They three were silent for a moment. "Okay, dat was weird."
"Tell me about it," Warren sighed. He hooked a thumb in the direction of the doors. "Do you guys know him well?"
"He WAS dead foh awhile, Ah think... but apparently not. It's so hard ta keep up with things like that."
"It's so hard t' keep people like dat dead dough, cherie."
"It'd be a lot easier if it wasn't."
Warren just blinked. "Umm... yeah. Anyway-"
"Raht, our school!" Rogue sipped her drink and glanced towards the door, expecting some sort of distraction to come up yet again. When none came, she started the spiel about the school and all that fun mutant rights stuff that the professor urged them to spoon-feed any potential recruits.
Warren raised an eyebrow. "You two sure this isn't a cult?"
Remy and Rogue looked at him expressionlessly and responded together in monotone. "We follow the Bald One."
It was comical how much Warren's eyes widened. It took everything Rogue had not to burst out laughing. Remy kept his poker face up, of course. "I, umm, think you should leave..."
It was then Rogue giggled hysterically. "We're jus' messin'. It ain't a cult or a religious group of any sort. It's jus' a place t' belong."
Warren shook his head looking vaguely disturbed but gave them a small, wry smile after a moment. "I'll think about it."
"K." Rogue fished in her pockets and came up with a business card. It had Xavier Institute along with the address and phone number printed in black calligraphy. She handed it to Warren.
"Now if y'll excuse us we got clubs t' hit."
"Wait... that's it?"
Remy stood up and helped Rogue up as well. "What did y' t'ink we were gon' do? Hang out here all night until y' said oui? We're not like dat, homme."
"Yeah. It's not an obligatory thing... either yes or no whenever ya come ta a decision." They started towards the door. "We'll be waitin' foh an answer, but if not, have a nice life."
"Wait, don't leave yet." He got up as well. Rogue and Remy stared at him, appalled. Warren blushed and looked at his feet. "I... I'm tired of being alone... especially it being Christmas and all..."
The two looked at him and then each other with raised eyebrows. After putting their heads together and conferring in whispers for a few moments they straightened.
"Ya're welcome ta come with us if ya want, unless ya got a better idea o' how ta kill some time."
TBC...