Whispers

 
 

Des Supers Plans

Day Two, 17th Hour, 45th Minute

Remy woke well past noon. In fact, he slept most of the afternoon away too. It was the first time in ages that his body came alive due to his internal biological clock he'd set for himself in Guild training instead of due to an inhumanely set alarm clock he'd used to meet the team standards and schedule.

Did he mention they had a lousy schedule?

He was in a good mood as he leisurely pulled on a shirt over his jeans. He had to fish it out from some of the newly upended junk in his room, but a small price to pay to get rid of Logan killing any chance he had of catching up on his sleep.

Remy considered whether he should go to bed at a reasonable hour. Rogue's wake up call would probably become a regular gig, meaning he shouldn't stay up all night. He was still undecided when his stomach grumbled and he ambled over to his bedroom door, opened it, and nearly tripped over Jubilee.

The mall rat had settled in, stretching her legs across the doorway and looked up at him with a cheeky grin. "Hi!"

He cursed, grabbed her by the shirt sleeve, and yanked her into his room, then closed the door quietly behind him.

"Firecracker, you want to keep this thing going a secret," he started in, "then you can't show up outside my door like that! Anyone could've seen you! You call that secret?"

She popped her bubble gum and glanced around at the wreckage left over after his…disagreement with Logan earlier. "Nice room."

Remy narrowed his eyes at her. "Jubilee..."

"Chill, dude." Jubilee held out one hand. "Cough up the dough."

He stared at her. Unbelievable. She was positively unbelievable.

"C'mon," she said coaxingly. "Those shots and registration weren't cheap."

He growled in frustration and opened a drawer, digging through it for a moment. He withdrew a small amount of cash, counted the bills, and handed it over.

She took the money, held up a hand for silence, and solemnly counted the bills herself. Her eyes widened. "Geez, Remy! Is this your petty cash drawer?"

"I have other jobs for you," he replied diplomatically.

She snorted inelegantly. "I bet you do! This is over a G." She raised her brows at him, as if he might not get it. "You know, a big one. A thousand dollars."

"Oui," he answered calmly.

"And you keep this in a drawer?" She was going to lecture him on money etiquette?

Remy laughed. "Take the money, 'cracker. You'll need it." Then he handed her a list and pushed her out the door.

She squawked before he could close it. "Long stem? You've got to be kidding me!"

He slapped a hand over her mouth and chocolate colored eyes focused on him, still wide and disbelieving.

He narrowed his eyes and hissed out softly. "Silence."

Then he closed the door.

The kitchen wasn't a safe bet with her around, so he'd go ahead and start cleaning up his room. He picked up the King of Hearts and grinned. It was fun.

Day Two, 18th Hour, 2nd Minute

About ten minutes later, Remy had his room into decent array and he ventured out into the land of the living, whistling a little when he came into the kitchen.

Bobby waved at him from the counter and received a scowl in return.

From the first time the two had met, they did not get along. That had only intensified when Remy found out that he'd dumped Rogue because he couldn't touch her. It didn't help that she'd turned down the Cure and any chance to be normal along with it. And Remy pretty much held this boy accountable for the Friday night call with its attendant tears. Rogue was so strong naturally, it must have taken an incredible jerk to bring her to that state.

Remy drew himself up short. He went back over his thoughts.

He was starting to get protective.

Non. That couldn't be right.

He went back over the previous paragraph again. He was starting to get protective.

Non. He was simply noticing what any decent male would, that Rogue was desirable and beautiful in spite of and partly because of her mutation. It was just a lovely quirk of what was her.

And he had all sorts of ideas on how to get around it.

"Going to get food this century, Gumbo?"

Remy sent up an injured prayer to whatever god might be listening. Really. Did Logan have to turn up everywhere that Remy did?

"Sure, mon ami," he replied easily.

He slipped in past the Canadian and swiped some milk from the fridge, cereal from the pantry, and opening a lower cupboard...

"What do you think you're doing, bub?" Logan's claws magically appeared at the back of Remy's neck.

With a long-suffering sigh, the Cajun withdrew from the Wolverine's stash, hands in the air. "I didn't get any."

"Only 'cause I caught you."

Remy conceded with a shrug. "What can I say, homme? You have the best taste in beer."

Bobby nearly spit out his cereal. "You can't drink in here!"

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Non?"

It was a dangerous statement around either Logan or Remy. Good thing that Logan stopped the popsicle from putting his foot further into it by "helping" him so he wouldn't choke. Good thing for the popsicle that is.

Logan grinned as he stopped lambasting Bobby on the back. "Shouldn't talk while you eat."

Remy chuckled.

Bobby aimed a glare in Remy's direction.

He grinned back like a Cheshire cat and winked. "Wouldn't want you to choke, now would we, garçon de glace?"

Bobby frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Ice boy." Remy dug into his cereal.

"Hey!"

Remy paused for only a moment. "Shouldn't talk while I'm eating." He even pulled off the angelic innocent expression usually reserved for his Tante Mattie.

Things were definitely looking up.
 


Comments




Leave a Reply