Remy Etienne LeBeau (_gumbo) wrote in tomorrowtoday, @ 2013-08-03 13:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | gambit, rogue |
Log: Scoundrel
Characters: Rogue and Remy LeBeau
NPCs: Dr. Moira MacTaggert
Timeline: Friday, August 2, 2013 - evening [backdated]
Location: Medlab - 2nd Basement - HSSoT
Description: Rogue returns, bearing real gifts and this time less sass. Maybe.
Rating: PG-13
It had been more or less a week before Rogue returned to Remy. She was trying to keep her distance from him, a promise she made to no one but herself and one she found was very difficult to keep. It was just... her heart needed to mend. But if it was just with herself, then no one would be the wiser, right, if she couldn’t keep it? Still, other than the email exchange about the dogs and the bike she had gone completely radio silence on him and that was about all she could bear, especially after she got word that her "gift" for Remy was ready. Eh, promises were meant to be broken anyways.
Per usual, she came to visit at night, not after work for a change, but rocking her typical tomboy style clad in a leather jacket and with the addition of a few items—a backpack, a skull bandana which was still bunched up around her neck, a vintage-style motorcyle helmet that was tied up in the straps of her backpack, a gift box, and her dinner balanced on top, a sack of greasy, fried food—but also there was something different about her. Her hands were bare and although they were mottled with traces of engine oil her short fingernails were lacquered black. Every once in awhile little flashes of alabaster skin made itself known, especially where her jeans hung low on her hips bound by a belt and kept from riding any lower than where it met the tail of her fitted work shirt, as she traipsed into Remy's room, a Rogue returned. La belle coquine.
"Miss me?" She asked by way of greeting, a smirk fixed on her face, something of a mask she wore around Remy. "How's the wing?" Rogue jutted out her elbow to indicate what she meant, his busted arm, but her hands remained clutching the box. She hung back though and kept at a distance, observing him and the fact that he seemed to be healing. At least one of them was.
"Mind if Ah sit here a spell?"
---
Remy heard her coming before he saw her. Not that Rogue made a lot of noise, but the infirmary was a quiet place, and Remy was restless enough to be listening. He even paused in his card game he'd been playing with himself to see who would walk through the door, expecting one of the staff members to check on Billy or himself. But when Rogue revealed herself, and not in her usual work attire or the layers she'd been known to stack up in, he broke into a smile and laid the cards down. La belle coquine indeed.
"Thought you wasn't coming back for a while." He commented, gesturing to the chair that remained by his bedside when she asked to sit. His eyes raked over the box she carried, and he resisted the urge to ask what it was, wary. Rogue was difficult to figure out these days. She wasn't coming or going, she was somewhere in between and Gambit couldn't put a pin in it. But it was always nice to see her, now that they were on mostly good terms. Mostly, only because she had taken his bike and his jacket in a bold move that, yes, had earned his respect.
---
"Want Ah should leave?" She asked with a light smirk. She was teasing, just being silly, and made her approach. Rogue settled her stuff down, first the box on the over-the-bed hospital table that was nearby, within arms reach without indication who it was for, and then her backpack next to the proffered chair. "Thanks." Before sitting, she swung the chair back a tick, and leaned back in it lithe in her movements, and crossed her legs, ankle over knee. "Ah, well. Ah just thought Ah'd see how you were doin'. Been a minute." Rogue shrugged. She was in a genial mood and figured it would be neighborly to pop in for a visit—friend’s stuff.
She cracked a smile then. “Actually Ah was wantin’ to see where and when you were takin’ me out.” Then pointing at the fast food, “You mind? Ah’m starvin’.”
---
"Has been a minute, ain't it?" Remy agreed, watching her sit. "And dat's real nice of you, coming to visit de invalid you stole from. Feeling just fine, by de by. Docs figure I'll be up and outta here soon as I ken stand and not black out." Which, if he had anything to say about it, would be sooner rather than later. His bruises were mostly faded, along with the scrapes from hitting the concrete. Head injuries were no joke, though, and even with his energy fueling his speedy recovery, Remy was growing frustrated by each day he was unable to leave his bed without assistance.
He shrugged with one shoulder at the question of the food. "Have at it. But what I understood, you was de one taking Remy out." Smirking, Remy pulled a one handed card trick, flicking them in and out of the stack like he was twisting a braid. "What you got dere?" He wondered curiously, nodding at the box.
---
"Yeah, a little bit.” Remy might have been benched, but for Rogue it had been a busy week. She had been working like a fiend and then in the meantime running around trying to replace all of the items she had lost in the last four months starting with John's birthday when she had to pawn her good knife to buy his lighter. There was that, and she needed a new fake I.D. since hers had been lost in Mississippi. And while she didn't explicitly need Remy’s bike to accomplish any of the things she had set out to do, it was just more fun that way. And really, when was she again going to get the chance to borrow his bike?
“Ah guess its gonna take some time then, huh?" She remarked sympathetically.
"Its too bad you can’t just nab some of Wolverine’s healing factor. Cool, thanks." Rogue reached out and grabbed the sack of hamburgers, and setting it down in the chair next to her, un-crinkled the top of the bag and looked inside. "Do you want one?" She offered before pulled back the wrapping of one just enough to take a bite, holding the burger by the paper. Chewing she glanced at the box, "Oh that. That's this thing for this guy that Ah know. Eh, its complicated.”
Rogue shrugged and swallowed, dismissing it. "Can we not talk about my weirdo relationships with people? Ah just got back, so Ah thought Ah’d pop in and say hi before Ah fucked off again,” she added in quick explanation of why it was even with her to begin with. “But yeah.... Hey, that's good, Ah like that," she said of the cards, happy to change the subject.
"So, you think about where you want to go then?"
---
“Time,” Remy nodded. Except time wasn’t in plentiful supply with Shaw breathing down his neck and the health and safety of his brother at stake. The thought was enough to drive away any appetite the Cajun may have had to share Rogue’s dinner, as much as he would have liked to, given that fast food wasn’t exactly easy to come by down in the infirmary, but he shook his head at her offer.
“A guy?” Glad for the diversion, Remy made a grab for the box, leaning over the gap between his bed and the table to snatch at it, “Let’s see what we got here, den!” he teased with a grin. Like hell he was going to not talk about weirdo relationships before she ‘fucked off’ again. If anything, her explanation only aroused his curiosity. He ignored her next question, fingers latching onto the corner of the box.
---
Rogue watched as Remy made a move for the box, unimpressed but not surprised, and ready to defend. "Nope." She splayed her free hand, a naked hand, on the center of the box, pinning it between the table's surface and her fingers, then snagged the table away with the toe of her boot, wheeling the lot of it out of arm's reach of Remy.
Moira was wandering by at that moment and peeked in at the sound of voices talking, surprised to find another one of her "problem children" and took the opportunity to settle up with something. "Ach! Anna Raven, ye best not be avoidin' me, lass. When are ye comin' to get yer stitches out?"
Glad for the diversion herself, Rogue was not happy that Moira had spilled the beans about her own injuries, in effect outting her to Remy. But she had been avoiding Moira, that part was true. She just didn't like being fussed over. Rogue screwed her up expression, closed one eye and wrinkled her nose. "Tomorrow?" She asked, sheepishly.
"Tomorrow," Moira agreed, firm. She wasn't messing about any more. "Or I send Bradley after ye." And with that she went on her way.
---
Gambit growled when she pulled the table away and the box fell out of reach, but he laid back against the bed again, a perfectly well behaved patient when Moira appeared. What the good doctor had to say, however, made the Cajun’s dark gaze land on Rogue with a hard edge. Stitches? What the hell?
When Moira departed, Remy still watched Rogue, expectant and disapproving with his brows drawn together in a frown. “Sometin you forgot to mention, petite?”
---
Moira didn't seem too irritated to Rogue, which was good. But when she looked at Remy and he fixed her with those dark eyes she realized he was grumpy about something. "What?" She asked just as disapproving, not liking the look he was giving her one bit. "Ah just hit my head. It ain't no thang though," she said, once again downplaying her involvement in his rescue. "Its just a nick, really. She's makin' a bigger deal outta it than it is."
Finishing off one burger, Rogue balled up the paper in her hand and dropped it back into the bag. "Percussive maintenance to the head," she joked. "You didn’t answer my question about where we going." Then pointing to the cards in his hand, “Hey, can Ah see those?”
---
Letting out a breath, because getting angry at Rogue when she was deflecting and downplaying the injury that must have been earned in her diving after him in the fall was pointless, and Remy just let it go. They’d already said they were even. Square as a brick. And beating a dead horse with a brick wasn’t going to bring it back to life to win any races.
“You gonna give ‘em back?” Remy’s fingers closed on the cards, one side of his mouth curving up in a half smirk. “What’s in de box?” He asked again, as a barter and trade. He’d give the cards if she told him about the box. He was growing more curious by the minute.
---
"Leave it alone for a minute," she said, leveling with him. Rogue pushed the table, and the box, off to the side so she could stand and move closer to Remy, creating a clear path. "Lemme see the cards," she said. "Scoot over." Rogue draped one leg over the bed, half-perched on the thing, since it was just about the height for her to do so comfortably, resting there for a moment, her other leg dangling free.
In the meantime, she had picked up the burner she had given him and set it on his thigh. "Here, you take that." From her pocket, Rogue pulled out her own burner, identical to his and rested it on her own thigh. "Cards." She held out her hand.
---
Sometimes, being laid up in bed had its perks. But lately, especially lately, every turn was a frustrating downside. Remy took it in stride like he did most things in his life that went bad. When Rogue pushed the table further away and came to perch on his bed, he shifted to make more room, relenting with the knowledge he couldn't actually protest her insistence on taking his cards. It would be as pointless as getting angry at the girl not telling him about hitting her head. Really, Rogue being there without gloves on could be viewed as a threat. But to Gambit, he saw it as a thing of trust. Mutual trust. He trusted her and she trusted him. Maybe they shouldn't, and maybe that's not what it was to her, but it's what it was to him.
He settled back, easing against the pillows that helped him stay propped up, and watched her move the phone to his thigh. "Alright, alright," he smirked and laid the deck in her outstretched hand, his own bare fingers, like always before, coming dangerously close to touching her skin.
---
When Gambit made room, Rogue eased onto the bed next to him, sitting up and crossing her legs at the ankle. "Thanks," she murmured when he handed the cards over. "Ah didn't tell you that Ah hit my head because Ah didn't want you to feel bad. 'Cause Ah reckon you feel bad enough as it is. But its like this..." she said, looking down at the cards in her hand, shuffling through them, searching for something.
"When Ah saw you go over the edge... Ah had already made my choice. An' there would have been nothin' you could have said or done to stop me. Ah was aware of what Ah was doin'. It was my decision to jump after you. Mine. An' Ah'd do it all over again if Ah had to. Well, maybe not everythin'," she said, knocking his shoulder lightly with her own, gently.
“Ah meant what Ah said, Remy—if only we could sync up. Ah think nothin' in the world could stop us...
"Here. This is us," she said, pulling out the Jack of Spades and the Jack of Clubs. In Euchre, they were typically considered the highest cards in the land—the right and left bowers—a formidable pair, especially when they worked together as a team. The rest of the cards she set aside for a moment, and showed him the Jacks, splaying them in her fingers. Rogue smirked. "Unless someone calls diamonds or hearts trump, then we'd be fucked. But... You at least got me for a trick or two," she winked, but sobered after that.
"Ah'm not askin' you to share your secrets with me just 'cause Ah'm an open book these days. But Ah want you t'know that Ah got your back. Here... Ah think this is the one you wanted, Ah think Ah mixed them up before," she said and swapped their phones. His for hers, the one with all the text messages on it, the one he was going to destroy. She was giving it to him and all the evidence of him opening up.
"Just... Think about it." Rogue gave Remy's thigh a loving squeeze and then hopped off the bed, pocketing the phone she had given him originally after his fall. She moved back to her chair and collected her things. The bag of burgers she crinkled back down and stuffed into her backpack, but left the lot of it in the chair for now.
There was a bit of a sad expression that touched her face when she turned back around, but she buried her feelings again, covering it all up with a smirk soon thereafter. "Now're you gonna let me tell you about the box? Finally?" She teased, grinning, and putting it back on him. "A girl can't get a word in edgewise around here with you, huh?"
Rogue swung the table back around. She gave the box a pat, and held her hand there a tic, looking down. "There's this guy..." She started. "He's pretty special. But its complicated between us, you know? We had some drama, an' Ah'm pretty sure he only just tolerates me now. ‘Cause Ah know he doesn't trust me. At all. An' on top of it, Ah'm me," she said, grinning, as if that explained every relationship problem Rogue had ever had.
"Guess he felt like Ah had too many issues to work through. Which was true, Ah did. But even after all that, even after he threw me back, Ah ain't ever forget about him. Ah've just been waitin' for my chance to get to know him better. Like a real person. But he doesn't ever stick around long enough for me to get to show him who Ah really am, either. Ah think that’s why we butt heads. But maybe Ah think sometimes we've just been playin' the wrong game, too. Ah dunno." With a breath, she steeled herself and a flashed Remy a quick smile.
Rogue hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders after that and turned to depart. As she walked out of the infirmary, she waved to Remy from behind her back, "Figure out where you're takin' me," she called to him, leaving, before he could figure out who she was talking about and stop her, with the pair of Jacks, her phone and the gift box containing a very special, long, lost item—his coat, dry cleaned and repaired, restored to its original condition.
---
Remy watched Rogue sift the cards, comfortable beside her on the hospital bed because the girl didn't take up much room, but also because Rogue had a companionable presence about her just then. She was friendly and open, even if she was dodgy about the box and the cut on her head. But that was soon explained and Gambit glanced at her, giving a small eyeroll that she had tried to spare his feelings by not telling him about the injury. He nudged her shoulder right back because, luckily, Rogue was positioned on his good side.
She spoke of syncing up, and Remy knew what that meant, what it could mean. A lot had happened since they'd even been in the ballpark of being synced, even being friends. They'd come a long way since their falling out to even be in the same room. He looked down at the cards she had in her hands, listening, letting her words sink in and he didn't let his sarcastic remark slip from his lips. Rogue was speaking lightly, but she was being honest, and it struck a chord within the Cajun, bringing to mind those feelings he'd had for her, the ones that hadn't ever gone away, that had just been buried under waves of trial and mountains of sand where every grain was another burden that stressed their friendship.
He looked at her, his devil eyes searching her face, scanning those shady leaf colored eyes he had fallen for what seemed like forever ago. Secrets and open books didn't go so well together. Remy opened his mouth to say so, to try and explain, but she swapped the phones and squeezed his thigh and moved away from him. His own expression was a mixture of sorrow and stubborn refusal to just let it go, but she told him to think about it. So he would. He shut his mouth, jaw giving a tick and fingers closing around the phone with his messages saved on them from before his fall. The unfinished conversation. Missed connections. His hand tightened on the device.
"Figure I'll let you go ahead now," Gambit spoke at last, his voice thick and he swallowed, the attempt at levity failing as badly as the small smile he tried to give when Rogue started talking with her hand on the box. Remy started and stopped himself from interrupting her on several counts, but let her finish.
And when she did finish, he was at a loss for words. This guy. That didn't sit right. It wasn't until she was gone, and had left with a parting trick that she'd stolen from Remy's own repertoire, he might add, which made him smile, that the thief realized she'd left the box behind. Rather than call out to try and catch her, or text her from the phone she'd left with him, Remy reached out and pulled it closer. He was an opportunist, being in the profession of acquiring things, and his curiosity was hedging in the realm of his feelings. It couldn't be jealousy, he reasoned. This guy. Was it still Scott? Whatever.
Remy untied the box with deft fingers of one hand and flicked it open to peek inside. What he saw made his heart skip. Dragging the duster out of its packaging, Remy let the box fall carelessly and he fingered the repaired seams, the replaced and now matching buttons, sewn tears and washed and missing dark marks from blood and all kinds of other things a thief from the bayou might encounter. Two generations of thieves, even.
"Mon Dieu..." he murmured in awe, inspecting every piece of the coat from the hidden pockets to discovering the newly embroidered New Orleans fleur de lis inside the front collar, hidden from view. He gave a small chuckle and shook his head then shot a look towards the door that Rogue had disappeared through. That sneaky scoundrel. La belle coquine. Le diable blanc had met his match.