Learning to Deal
I don't own X-Men Evolution (or X-Men for that matter) characters or anything concerning the show, comics, ect. No suing! Be civil in reviews (if there are any).
I know, I'm well overdue for this chapter. Gah! Hit a bit of a writer's block for while, but I punched through it. Okay, marching season is starting tomorrow for me, so, my next planned update is August 15th or 16th. Alright? Let's hope I can make that.
He had found her! It happened by some accident or other, but one way or other he had finally found the gothic girl.
While the Cajun had been staggering down the street in hopes of getting beyond the small, suburban homes to a convenient store or diner he had heard her then saw her. She was in her new trademark outfit: dark purple, off the shoulder shirt with jeans that were ripped at the knees.
There was something different about her, something that Remy just could not quite place, but the goth seemed to somehow be a bit more confident as she smirked at a person across the street. Whoever she was smirking at, the Cajun could not see but was slightly jealous of.
Dat is easily remedied, he thought, stepping into Rogue's line of sight. "Dere you are, mon chere, I have finally found you," he greeted, flashing her his lady-killer grin.
She blinked several times with her mouth hanging open. "Who're you?" she asked.
Chuckling a bit, Remy shook his head, "Now, Gambit knows you weren't expectin' him t' show up here, but here he is. So, dere's no need t' act like you don' know me, chere."
Rogue's expression began to change from bewilderment to something of realization and smugness, especially once an uncharacteristic smirk formed on her lips. "Course, what are ya doin' here?" she asked, glancing over Remy's shoulder.
Taking a peek over his shoulder at what she could possibly be looking at, there was no one over there but an empty driveway. What was she lookin' at? he thought
"You never answered mah question," Rogue pointed out to him, causing Remy to return his attention to her.
This was not like Rogue, normally she would have told him to beat it by then, but she had yet to say it or somehow insult him, call him names; do anything to get him away from her. What was going on? Could she have changed so much since he had last seen her in New York? No, this was Rogue; she does not change for anyone, not even for Professor Xavier or Wolverine.
Dere's always one way t' be sure, Remy reminded himself. Ignoring the possible consequences of his actions, Remy grabbed Rogue by the shoulders, pulled her up to him, and closed his eyes.
Not giving the girl anytime to react, other than a gasp, Gambit kissed her. Not one to be distracted from his objective, usually, the Cajun tried to take more notice in the fact that he was not feeling weakened in any way than the fact that the kiss did not feel like a kiss from a woman. Remy knew how most women kissed in several situations; they could be demanding, hungry, clumsy, timid, soft, or hard. This was very different.
Pushing away from the imposter, as Remy was more than aware that this person was not Rogue, he opened his eyes and felt his stomach give a lurch. Before him was not the gothic girl with auburn hair and a white stripe on either side her face but a teenaged boy wearing a face of disgust.
"Luh!" coughed the boy, wiping his mouth repeatedly. "Water! I need water! God, please tell me that's not how you kiss every girl you meet because if so, you need some major help."
Taking a few steps back from shock, mostly from the fact that this boy was a mutant who had openly used his powers in public. Then came the realization that not only was this guy a mutant but had the same abilities as Mystique thus why he had looked like a carbon copy of Rogue.
Remy was not at all disgusted that he had kissed a guy, there were more pressing matters to think about than the fact that he had shared a kiss with a member of the same sex while under the impression that he was kissing a girl by the name of Rogue. Plus, it had been the first time that Gambit had been fooled by someone taking on the form of Rogue, not even Mystique had tried that on him, yet. Although he would never put it past the blue skinned woman.
"Who are you?" he demanded of the teen, recovering from the overall shock.
Halting in mid-wipe, the boy sized up the Cajun with a cautious eye, which was understandable as Remy was a stranger and had kissed the guy, accidentally. "Depends on who wants to know. Who are you?"
"Gambit asked ya first," Remy pointed out.
"Well, Gambit," he practically spat out the name, "the name's Morph."
The Cajun raised a doubting eyebrow, the same way he had when he read through Rogue's profile. What parent named their children such names as 'Rogue' or 'Morph'? None that Remy knew, but then again, there were stranger names out there, like 'Pilot Inspektor'.
"Dat's not your real name," he stated.
Morph laughed, "I doubt 'Gambit' is your real name."
He had a point, Remy had to admit it, at least in his mind, but then again the kid was not worthy to know his name. Only the best looking girls got to know his name, among other things…
"What do you want with Rogue?" Morph inquired, crossing his arms. He did not really care who this guy with an accent was, he did not care too much that this guy had kissed him, but he did care what the guy's relationship with Rogue was and why he was looking for her.
From Morph's understanding, Rogue was a runaway and she did not particularly want to return to wherever she had come from. She had not talked about it with him, not that he blamed her, but he could put two and two together to get the overall picture.
"I'm jus' here t' say 'hi' t' de fille," shrugged the New Orleans man. There was no way that he was going to take the chance that Morph might be very good friends with Rogue and potentially warn her about his presence in town before Gambit got to see her. He could not have her running off again.
There was something about the stranger that Morph did not like, perhaps it was because he obviously knew Rogue and seemed to be very close to the gothic girl despite her powers. How can that be? he wondered. She can't touch anyone, I thought.
"She ain't ever mentioned you before, or anyone else," he informed Gambit, crossing his arms to become a bit more intimidating. Somehow he got the feeling that he was not being very intimidating.
"Course not," nodded Gambit, condescendingly, this kid was getting annoying and noisy. "De fille don' like t' talk t' much, especially t' strangers." He had added the last portion to hopefully dissuade the young man from bothering him further. "Where is she?"
Swallowing hard, Morph unconsciously glanced over the Cajun's shoulder at Marian's house before realizing how stupid that had been. It was even more stupid because the stranger was beginning to catch on, if he had not already, and was starting to turn around.
Crap, think! Morph growled to himself. "There she goes!" he shouted, pointing across the street before dashing off to the left, not really stopping to see if Gambit had fallen for the trick.
He hadn't. Remy sighed in exasperation as he coolly watched the younger man run down the sidewalk. Turning around to face the house across the street, the Cajun took in every detail of the place he could from the color of the house to the color of the curtains. It seemed to be a comfortable house but not something that Rogue would probably live in, willingly, unless she was at her rope's end.
She would be needin' a place t' stay, so if I ask 'round someone is bound t' tell me who she is stayin' with or even where she is livin' at, grinned Remy until he felt his stomach growl. "First t'ing's first, I need some food."
From inside the house, Rogue had been watching as much as she could while still hiding behind the door. She had seen Remy kiss Sydney while he had been in disguise as her. It caused her to gasp then break out into a fit of silent laughter, especially when Sydney converted back to his form during the kiss. The look of disgust on Sydney's face was just an added bonus.
"Oh mah gawd, thank ya Morph for keepin' yer mouth shut 'bout meh, hopefully," Rogue muttered as she watched Remy starting walking to the more central, active part of town where the stores and diners were.
Sighing in relief, Rogue went into the kitchen and took a glance at the clock on the wall; it read '5:25 pm'. Relief evaporated as Rogue began to realize that she was going to be late if she did not hurry.
Dashing out the door, Rogue quickly returned to hide the bag of her purchases under one of the couch cushions then made her way out of the house. She had to run down the alley in order to make it back to the diner for the rush hour and not be accidentally seen by the, now known to be in town, Cajun. That was one of the last things Rogue felt she needed after all her hard work to be kept under the radar.
Great, now would've been an excellent time ta have Kurt's powahs, she thought as she sprinted down the alley, dodging the trash cans and kids riding bicycles or skate boarding. Kids! Can't they see that Ah'm in a hurry!
Coming up to the familiar backdoor of the diner, Rogue pulled open the door only to have Joe toss her an apron wordlessly. It was a silent instruction to get washing as soon as possible, and Rogue could see why with one glance at the sink. It was full with dirty dishes, some with leftover food still lying untouched on them.
Making a face, Rogue tied on her apron and rolled up her sleeves. She had to forgo wearing all her good clothes like her black skirt, sheer green shirt (and her red one), her skirt, and sleeveless shirt. Meaning that she was limited to her off the shoulder shirt and ripped jeans, or her green, hooded sweatshirt with black pants. At the moment she was in the former outfit.
Seeing that the sink was already filled with suds and hot water for her to use, Rogue grabbed the first glass and dunked her hands into the water. It was a bit too hot for her taste but she was not about to complain about that, especially if she was late.
"Another order for ya, Joe," Marian's voice called out from the counter. "Hey, is Rogue back yet?"
"Yeah, Ah'm here," Rogue answered as Joe set down three plates for Marian to take to one of the many tables.
"Table ten's up," he announced, returning to his slicing, dicing, stirring, stewing, and garnishing. He was quite the accomplished chef, Rogue had to acknowledge, for being able to handle multiple orders all by himself. "Find wha' ya were lookin' for?"
Not used to having Joe talk with her, it took Rogue a moment to reply. "Yeah, Ah found 'im a few things that he might like."
"Good to know."
It was back to the comfortable, working silence between the gothic girl and chef, like normal. It was a real rarity that Joe would speak to Rogue, and it was even rarer for Rogue to try to get him to talk. It was quite obvious that Joe was wary of her, and Rogue couldn't blame him, and he just did not like her overall. All of this was fine with Rogue as long as he did not try to do anything…stupid, like attack her.
Out in the diner area, Marian served table ten's food with a wide grin on her face. It was good to know that Rogue was back in the kitchen, like she promised, and on time at that. It just proved to Marian what she already knew that she could trust Rogue not to run away from her again.
There was something comforting in Rogue's presence, something that Marian could not quite put a word to but she knew that she liked having the kid around. Plus, it was giving her a chance to share some of her own wisdom with another person, even if their situations were very different.
She had come to that town already pregnant, out of marriage, and ended up marrying the town's number one sweet guy. Her husband was loyal, understanding, and, above all else, loving and not just to Marian but to a child that was not even his. James Maxwell was Marian's idea of the perfect man, or at least as perfect as he could get, especially from such a traditional town that feared change and all "immoral" activities.
Perhaps that was another reason Marian wanted to help Rogue, because she knew how traditional the town was and how no one was ready to accept the fact that there are mutants in their town; that some of their own children were born with special gifts that have condemned them to wraths of those who did not understand or sympathize. She was not completely ignorant to the fact that a couple of the local kids were mutants, like Sydney and Carol. She knew, and they knew she knew.
"So, what will it be?" Marian asked a new customer who sat at the counter.
"Double cheeseburger, no pickles or onions," the customer stated. "With a root beer."
Jotting down the order, Marian glanced up at the customer as the person had an accent she was not used to hearing.
"Ya from outta town?" she inquired, posting the order for Joe.
"Qui."
"Passin' through or somethin'?" she continued to question as she sized the customer up. Male, wearing a dark brown trench coat that caused Marian to think of the first time she saw Rogue, and an odd, tight blue and red shirt with matching pants. What was stranger about the man was that he was wearing sunglasses, indoors.
"Nah, jus' lookin' for an old friend," he grinned. "Say, people pass in an' outta here e'eryday, right?"
"That they do," Marian confirmed, sensing that she was not going to like where this line of questioning was going to go.
He watched her from behind his shaded lenses as his grin grew broader. "Den you mus' have seen a fille, a girl, come in here at leas' once. She would have been wearin' dark clothes, gloves, an' has white streaks on both sides o' her face. Hard t' miss."
Rogue, Marian realized.
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