Who: Rogue and Remy What: his arrival Where: Homebrew When: 9/21, late afternoon Warnings: nothing major Status: completed, gdoc
The day had started like any other day. Wake up next to his beautiful wife, convince her to get up and make coffee, be rejected and have to wake up and make his own damn coffee…. Wedded bliss hadn’t turned her into a morning person any more than before.
It didn’t bug him though -- not at all. After everything they’d been through, everything they’d experienced together, any interaction with her was perfect and amazing and more than he ever thought possible.
And after he’d brought coffee back to bed, and caught her fast asleep again, well, what else was an homme to do? He snuggled down back in bed, pulled her close and enjoyed sleeping close to the love of his life …
..and then he woke up again and everything was different.
First off, he was completed dressed in his trademark clothes -- long, leather duster, gloves, leather pants and flashy shirt. Secondly, he was in front of a restaurant, one that from the smells of it made decent cajun food. And thirdly, what the merde connard was going on here? Where was Rogue? His home? His world?
With a groan, he reached into his pockets and cursed (and sort of cheered) when all he could find was a pack of cards. Flipping it open, he held a Joker between his two fingers and sighed happily when they charged. “Bon, at least Remy ain’t startin’ from de beginnin’,” he said to himself, looking around. There wasn’t anyone, which was strange but in a way, he was grateful. You never knew if you were going to get strung up or not in a new town. Mutant haters looked just the same as mutant sympathizers.
The smells were growing stronger, and his stomach rumbled. Breakfast had not happened, and now it was the middle of the day, and even though he had no money, well -- he was a thief after all. He could figure this out. Besides, there wasn’t a female on Earth that wouldn’t take pity on him once he put on the charm. With that thought in mind, he pushed the door open, bell chiming, and glanced around. No waitress. No matter. “Allo?,” he called out. “Anyone dere? Dis cajun got a proposition for ya….”
Rogue was behind the counter, grabbing something from the front of the house. Homebrew was done up like an old Viking establishment, lots of dark wood and warm smells. A fire crackled somewhere, and all sorts of delicious scents wafted the moment the door opened. There were a few tables for sitting and a long bar for sitting at the bar.
She was unmistakable - auburn and white hair, decked head to toe in clothing, but she had an apron on, and was carrying a chef’s knife in one hand. She was talking to someone else when the chime rang and she looked up automatically. The knife clattered to the floor, ignored for the fact she was staring at Remy. There was a swamp rat in her place of employment. And the wave of emotions was something unexpected. “Merde.” she muttered as she bent to grab the knife from the floor and put it in the wash bin before she addressed the man. She didn’t bother with threats, or weapons, or anything. She only pulled off her glove and laid it on the counter. Was it really him or was the Dome fucking with her?
“Remy?” she asked, warily, her brows furrowed, lips pursed. Cruel, Dome, this was utterly cruel to bring him to her after the last year of misery.
"Chere!" The smile he so carefully reserved for her was out in full force. He didn't care if anyone else saw it, his relief was so palatable. True, it'd only been a few moments of confusion but they'd felt so long.
Ignoring everyone else, he swiftly moved closer to the counter before he stopped suddenly. The stiffness in her body. The knife on the counter. Her one exposed hand. All of these were clear signs of caution, ones he hadn't seen in her in how long? Not since they'd reconciled the last time, anyways. "You look 'bout ready to skin dis swamp rat, or at least punch him in de nose. Dat wouldn't be very nice. Make him feel a but unwanted, nehn?" His tone was light and belied the myriad of emotions swirling in his mind.
It was hard not to swoon at the chere - in that tone no less. She knew what it was. She knew him, inside and out. He was in her head. But she’d been burned a few times so now she was careful. The last Remy that had been here reminded her, so politely, that she’d left him once in Antarctica.
That had not gone well.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She was ready for just about anything. “Depends. Are you really Remy? If so, last thing you remember. Tell me or ah’ll make sure to find out.” not that she wanted to lay a hand on him. She didn’t like it any more than she ever had. But she would, oh yes.
“Can’t say nice is always in my descriptors.” she noted, as an afterthought. Sometimes she was nice, and sweet as pie. But she could be mean, too, and cruel. She’d done dark things with her life.
Oh yeah -- he wasn't in Missisippi anymore and he was fairly certain this wasn't HIS Rogue. But to be honest, the multiverse wasn't a new concept to Remy and all Rogues were his Rogue so….
"De last t'ing I remember?" A lazy smile crossed his face, while his eyes fixated on hers, the red almost dancing on black irises. "Dunno if dat really other people's business, but if'n you really wanna know, we was in bed, doin' what married people do when neither has to work and neither got nothin' much else to do."
He quirked an eyebrow, the smile now deepening into a smirk. "Could give you an example, show you why you finally agreed to marry dis poor ol' sufferin' cajun."
And as if anticipating her retort, he lifted his left hand and showed her the band. The only jewelry he had ever consented to wear openly, and even that was a fight that she'd won, refusing to wear hers unless he reciprocated.
Even Remy knew when he had to give in.
Sometimes anyways.
Oh lord have mercy he was being serious. She didn’t know how to react to that, not really. She did manage to keep her jaw shut though for a moment while she collected her thoughts. It wouldn’t do to catch flies while she tried to find a witty retort or a reason to disbelieve. “That most certainly isn’t information my coworkers ever need to hear.” she finally said, with a long suffering sounding sigh attached to the end.
“As if ah would need an example.” Rogue grit her teeth, still a flirt, still incapable of doing what was proper in public. She raked her bare hand through her hair and tugged on the strands, this was pure insanity, it was. It had to be.
Her eyes snapped up again as he lifted his hand. They focused on the ring. “Ah actually married you? Oh sweet mercy, why ever?” at least he was used to her being, well, her. Sharp tongued, rebuking his advances when she was in a mood to deny him any sort of heart, this wasn’t new. This was, probably, not his current normal, but it was Rogue.
“When.” She came around the counter, not bothering to put a glove on, if she really got a bad feeling, she’d drop him right then and there and sort out the inevitable tangle of memories. The door swung open behind them as the welcoming committee stepped inside to give their speech but Rogue waved them off, gesturing for Remy to take the phone, laptop, keys and so on that was being held out, somewhat nervously, by a young woman.
“Welcome to Madison Valley, Indiana, Remy.” she added.
Indiana. Okay, he could accept that answer, he thought to himself. It was easier to focus on what was going on rather than dwelling on everything else. A naturally optimistic person who was used to constant disappointment, he was (currently) taking things in stride.
Later, in private? Maybe he wouldn’t be coping so well but right now, he had something to keep his mind occupied and he was going to take full advantage of it.
“Merci beaucoup,” he replied back, giving a slight bow at the waist. “Can’t say Remy happy t’ be here, but he shore happy t’ see you. An’ as for when an’ where an’ all those details -- why don’t we jus’ see if history repeat itself an’ you can find out for yo’self?” He flashed her a brilliant smile.
“Or we can play a game.” From his pocket, he pulled out the cards and effortlessly plucked two. “Black, Remy answer all o’ his chere’s questions. Red, Remy get a kiss and a hug and a ‘poor bebe, you have suffered so’.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “Good deal, non? Remy say you go for it.”
Rogue watched him sort it out in his head - set things aside for later and figure out a plan for now. She knew he was adaptable and that he’d hit the ground running. She had no fears on that, though, she was now curious how he would manage here. She almost felt bad for Madison.
“Mm.” she said after a pause, trying to figure out if she really wanted to know. She did, of course, curious as a kitten this one, but she wasn’t sure either if it was a good play. Remy rarely let her win, and she almost always had to really fight for the wins she did earn. “Oh, Ah do suppose we can find out.” she heard the echoes of a couple people cackling in her head.
“Now, Remy. Yer games are rarely fair. Ah know you.” she twisted her lips into a grin, pulse racing. That was very much a Remy move. “Fifty fifty chance for me to pull a black. Ah know you, Cajun.” she was already cheating in her own head though, drawing Domino out of the filing cabinet. He wanted to play, she’d play. No one said she had to play fair either.
“But that’s too simple yeah? Black or Red. Easy to manipulate.”
This was a smart one, Remy thought as he gave a nod to her, easily conceding her point. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to win though because he already was. Every single thing she said, everything she’d done, was giving him information.
So far he’d learned the following:
She was a cook. This was probably the first thing that helped him realize he wasn’t in his reality. His Rogue burnt water. She knew him very well and didn’t seem surprised to see him, although from how standoffish she was being, it hadn’t ended well. Not a shock, really. She was still as flirty and cocky as ever so there was hope.
Really, there was always hope.
“Simple, oui, but de best t’ings in life are, non? De question now remains: if you pick black, was it cause you did? Or did Remy let you pick it? Mebbe Remy wanna answer yo’ questions. You makin’ a lot o’ presumptions here ‘bout me. You t’ink you know dis cajun….” He shook his head, letting his hair fall into his face a little bit. “Oh mebbe we jus’ let dis go for now, an’ you give me food.”
Another toothy grin.
She knew he was winning. She wasn't stupid, he gathered information while she talked. Thankfully she'd learned to cook here, and then run with it. It was easier than not. But she'd cheated and drawn on knowledge she's stolen, too.
She snorted at him. "Yeah. Ah know how this works, Remy..ain't my first game with you." She pushed her hair back again, watching him through half closed lashes.
"Just give you food? Why ever would ah do that?" She asked, lifting a brow at him, grinning a bit.
"Cuz if you don't, den mebbe Remy find someone who do." It was the first time he actually addressed the weird welcome wagon that had stood there awkwardly for the last few moments. Pretty little thing, it wouldn't be hard for him to put on the charm, tap a bit into his natural empath powers, and take off, leaving Rogue behind, most likely with anger i her eyes.
It was a turn on, seeing how angry he could get her.
Alas, as carefree as he was, Remy was unsettled that there was some sort of magical welcoming committee that somehow knew immediately when he arrived. That wasn't right.
"C'mon now, ma belle -- don't be dat way. Smell good… dat jambalaya?"
A hint of annoyance crept into her face at that, "mmm good luck charming them, they are skittish things. Hand you yer stuff then run." She shrugged, trying very hard not to give him the satisfaction of knowing already she could get angry at him.
Rogue heaved a sigh, "don't be that way, he says." She threw up her hands and headed back around the bar.
"Sit, ah'll bring you out some. One meal free, that's all." She chided as she vanished into the back, where she splashed water on her face. This was not how her night was supposed to go. She couldn't really fight here, not the way she could back home, so she'd turned to cooking.
She know she was awful at it. But now? She was damn good and she'd hosted a party even! She'd recalled enough to start, then just worked her ass off.
She took a drink from the mug of mead, then served up a good portion of jambalaya, carrying it out and sliding it in front of him. "Eat up, been tweaking that recipe for months now."
Remy obliged, shrugging at the girl who disappeared quickly after. Sitting down, he glanced at the items and even though he knew it wouldn't work, he still called his Rogue's number.
Out of service. Not a surprise.
With a sigh, he draped an arm behind the back of his chair and glanced around, his toe tapping. Remy was a being of kinetic energy, energy that was suddenly very restless and needed to be burned off. This was a bad idea. Reality was starting to rear its ugly heas and he wanted nothing more to drink himself to sleep.
He almost got up to go but then Rogue came back with what he swore was his Tante Marie's jambalaya. Looking at Rogue warily, he cautiously took a bite. The moment the savoury food touched his tongue, his eyes widened.
"Mon dieu," he said quietly. "Remy really be somewhere else...you not my Rogue…. dommage ." He forced a smile and shrugged, trying to play it off. "An' ain't no yellow brick road to whisk Remy home. Hm."
Better not to think anymore. There was mead to be drank and food to be eaten. He could cry in the shower later.
She tapped her head gently. "Damn right it is, sugah." Then she shrugged, "ah'm never anyone's Rogue." There was the old hint of defeat in her voice. The notes of being left out of things. But she stuffed them down and smiled.
"Though, this cookin thing is new. Been here for years. Learned a few things. If you tell me the last few big things that have gone on, ah can tell you if you know me or just a version of me. Wouldn't be the first time, or last, that that'll happen."
She shrugged a bit as she wiped the bar down, her fingers twitching. She was going to have to go throw axes or something tonight, seeing him again was so hard. She'd given up seeing his face again, and her most recent return home had left her feeling all the feelings again. This was not what she needed.
He caught the low tones of her voice and filled it away for later. He'd seen her skittish before. After Joseph. After Antarctica. After the whole Witness debacle. Crisement, he'd have to start from scratch again.
"Dun know where t' start." He took a drink of his meat and nodded approvingly "Already tol' you we got married. Stole us a wedding." Remy chuckled at that. Still one of his prouder moments. "Goin' back more, guess there's lots Remy don't wanna get into… took us a while t' forgive an' forget. Antarctica." He left the word hanging. Either she'd get it or not.
"Stole us a wedding?" That sounded about right, they weren't likely to do things the normal way, after all.
Then with one word, her hands stopped moving. She went utterly still, a habit she'd learned from one too many hours of Logan in her head. Stillness before a fight, or flight. She couldn't decide if she wanted to slip away or deal with that mess again.
"Antarctica." She repeatedly slowly, cringing. That had not been a shining moment, she'd admit that one. "Not my finest hour." She said as she poured them both a mead, finally moving but everything screamed she was ready to bolt. There were no good memories with that one.
Remy shrugged again. He'd long ago come to terms with everything. Why dwell on the past? There'd been enough of that. "You had yo' reasons," he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "No sense relivin' dat disaster. Besides, happened a long time ago, an' no one de worse for it, so…."
He cleared his throat and accepted the drink, surprised that he'd finished the first one so fast. A sign that he was slightly more bothered about this whole situation than he was letting on.
Remy tossed a look at the chair in front of him. "Sit down, chere. You don' look too good. Mebbe you need food too. Here." He offered her his spoon. "Can't have you pass out. People t'ink dat be my fault. No fun dat way."
She didn't move, trying to come to terms with the fact this wasn't the Dome playing tricks on her. He was actually here. And she had a sinking feeling he was the one she knew. She'd yet to run across another version she'd left in Antarctica.
"Ah sure did. It broke me to do it too." She didn't believe for a moment his words. She'd hurt him to the core, but he'd earned it. But she knew better, he'd say he'd forgiven but the tone of his voice and the look on his face told her otherwise.
Him telling her to sit snapped her out of her momentary funk, "ah'm on the clock. Don't have time to laze around."
She needed Johanna and Kitty. She settled for a text to the pair. "Ah think we're from the same world, for the record. Ah could be wrong but ah don't think so."
Her last comment threw him for a loop. " Mais comment ça?" How could that be? She already made it clear she wasn't the one that married him...or was it she was from his reality but a different time?
Remy again started to fidget, tapping his spoon now on his bowl. This was getting too much and since he couldn't explode anything, he'd have to rely on another way to burn this energy.
" Ben, if dat de case…" The same smirk from earlier peeked out. "Remy gon' home wit' you. Can't have me left all alone, new world wit' no one to call a friend. Too pitiful, dis cajun. Best keep me close, non?"
"People come from different times, and realities, here. But ah have not met anyone who knew about Antarctica." She waved a hand lazily, "this place? Wilder than you can imagine."
What? She didn't mind breaking the Cajun a little bit.
"You can sleep in the guest room. If you hit on my housemate ah'll let her sink an axe into you. She's a vicious thing." She knew that'd make him curious. Johanna probably wouldn't mind putting him in his place.
"Ah'll keep you close tonight to make sure you don't get into trouble." She lifted a hand to stop him, "not that kind of close, sugah."
Dangerous and lethal women had always been his weakness. The axe wielding roomate seemed intriguing but not something he was going to pursue.
If she was right, and she was his Rogue, just from earlier on? That meant he could convince this one to marry him all over again. Plus if she already knew of the massacre, had already gone through Antarctica, that meant starting this off with no secrets. How many times had he wished for that? Second chances….
A spark of optimism lit up and he nodded in agreement. "Always said it was your rules, chere. Jus' know dat dis homme be very willin', anytime you say de word." He gave a good eyebrow waggle. "Anytime."
Not many women were more dangerous than the one who stood before him, watching him through narrowed eyes. She wasn't sure what was going to happen next.
She'd hoped the Dome would be kind, bring him back. But she'd given up on that, and now that he was here, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Second chances. She missed the physical contact, and someone knowing what she'd gone through. To be there when nightmares of one of the others surfaced.
He'd have to earn his place back. As easy as it was to melt and let him back into her life easy as pie, she refused to do that with just anyone here. She'd been burned a few times already and she'd put the walls back up. "You can dream, if we are married you can fall back on those memories for now."
That still felt weird. "You behave." Her bare hand reached out to touch the spoon in his hand, charging it just like he did. "Or you'll be scrubbing jambalaya off the ceiling. Ain't got time tonight to wrangle you from flirting with the staff." A reminder she was still bad ass, sneaky and capable of wrecking his night. Though he did get a grin.
Her threats meant very little to him but Remy knew when to play nice so he smiled. Before he could say anything back though, he felt a very familiar tingle in his hand and he looked down curiously to see that she had used his powers against him.
It was simple enough to absorb the energy back into his own body, considering it was his , even if it came from her.
A brief wave of possessiveness washed over him, and he felt slightly proud to know that no matter what, he was in her mind, in her psyche. It made him feel good.
“Got eyes for no one else but you,” he crooned, tempted to cover her hand with his. Didn’t really feel like dying though, so he didn’t.
“Jus’ tell me when you’re ready to go. Remy follow you wherever.”
He'd always live there. He was woven into her very being. She pushed her hair back and sighed heavily.
"That's good to know." She shook her head and rolled her eyes, he was incorrigible. Very very much so. She headed into the back to clean up so she could leave.
Rogue smiled as she came out a few minutes later to take him home wondering if this was the best or worst idea. It was probably going to end badly but was she willing to let him loose in Madison right now?? No. Not really.