Whispers

 
 
He prayed that Logan wouldn't answer the door—too prone to lectures—and Jubilee would be otherwise occupied—prone to ill-directed crushing: There was only one face he wanted to see, and he was selfish enough to pray away Piotr's girl, Kitty, as well.

Rogue.

With her intense green eyes, visibly unimpressed but that well-hidden relief and excitement behind them, with that faint flush he hoped their homecoming caused, with her too pale skin and a velvet green dress and her soft, heady scent to take his breath away... She was perfect.

He held her close and murmured, "'M home."

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He was the first man to ever want her.

Bewildering, deadly how intoxicating, this arm around her waist pulling her closer until all she could smell was his Cajun spice and all she could feel was his warmth and the low rumble of his laugh running through her. The odd girl out, the loner, was tucked beneath another's arm with his breath against her hair and a desire for her shining in his eyes.

"Rogue?" Ororo raised her eyebrows.

Rogue shook her head and snuggled closer into Remy. "Sorry. Ah was thinkin'."

Ororo's eyes warmed. "I was saying, 'Merry Christmas.'"

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Kitty shook her head at the southern lovebirds. Absorbing the Acolytes into the X-Men three years back no longer seemed a bad thing. The three men were more world-weary than the original team, but they seemed to appreciate the good, simple things of life more deeply because of it.

Remy treated Rogue like a queen, whispering to her like they'd been lovers forever. St. John made the youngest students laugh with his Santa suit, gifts, and false beard. And Piotr— Piotr. He was watching the children open their presents with a wistful longing in his eyes.

Perhaps, thinking of home.

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Christmas always reminded him of Ilyana. She would be laughing and opening gifts as gaily as the children at Xavier's Institute if circumstances hadn't kept them apart so painfully. Piotr loved and hated to watch the youngest residents. He would see her spirit in their eyes.

A small, warm hand reached to covered his.

Startled, he looked to see Kitty smiling gently at him, and then something warm blossomed inside of him. He returned the gesture.

"Merry Christmas, Katya."

A faint blush stained her cheeks, but she whispered the greeting back.

It was not Russia, and yet, it was home.

 
Fandom: X-Men Evolution

Summary: Piotr and Remy return home.

Author's Notes: Merry Christmas!


Header Image: by moi
Picture
 
Fandom: X-Men: The Movie

Summary: What really happened out there on the ice?


Header Image: by Merr2
Picture
 
She was the last thing he had expected.

Cold, winter night. Lonely fire. Memories and photographs. These were things he had expected. A green-eyed angel, twisting bare fingers together, on the front porch of the house they had once shared he had not.

He couldn't stop staring at her hands without their gloves—another thing he had not expected.

"Ah've got control now," she blurted.

He looked back up to those heavenly green eyes. Control... And swallowed. Hard. He hadn't expected that either.

"Ah know ya weren't expectin' me..." Her voice trailed off.

He opened the door. She stepped inside.

 
Fandom: X-Men

Canonical Notes: Well after Valle Soleada and kind of ignoring a bit of how that whole Legacy arc went down. Instead of going with Xavier to go get her, Remy went back to their house.

Author's Notes: Stand-alone Rogue/Remy drabble. Prompt: the unexpected.

Torn

12/27/2010

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Just friends.

He wanted to spit the words out with the breath of cigarette smoke. Instead he leaned against the wall of the mansion, studying a silhouette in the rain from burning red and black eyes.

She was flying. He'd know her shape anywhere, and it wasn't just the hint of magnolia sweetness lingering in the air behind her. It was that unfettered rebellion clamped behind the restraints of her mutation.

He could not look away.

"I think we should just be friends," like it wasn't tearing him apart. Why couldn't she understand he didn't love her for her skin?

Torn

12/27/2010

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Fandom: X-Men

Author's Notes: Stand-alone Rogue/Gambit drabble. Prompt: Just friends.
 
Red glows, burns from black corners, shifting shadows. He's a demon—eyes like darkness. Mothers hide their children away.

Green glows, burns from bright skies, open spaces. She needs her distance. She's an angel, white on auburn, hovering before the sun.

She cannot fathom why he hates to fly.

He cannot accept she'll never know his favorite sins.

"Mais, chère, y' know I love y'."

But girls named Rogue aren't taught to believe. "How much faith does an angel have?" she asks him.

He does not answer because life's a gambit, angels have no faith, and even the devils believe.

 
Fandom: X-Men

Author's Note: Stand-alone Rogue and Remy drabble. Prompt: angels and demons.


Header Image: by Merr2
image by Merr2
 
"I don't believe it," Kitty said flatly.

Rogue cast her a scathing look usually reserved for boys demonstrating idiocy by engaging in girl talk. "Ah'm raght."

Kitty crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "He wouldn't," she snapped. "Bobby's been there for you every step of the way."

A small shrug. "He's been there for you too." Rogue returned her attention to her book.

"I'll prove it." Kitty chewed her lip thoughtfully.

Rogue stared.

Kitty muttered on, unheeding. "I just need an opportunity..."

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She hadn't expected it to come so soon.

Skating, remembering home... It was pleasant and she thanked him, but chiming in the back of her head was her promise. Kitty glanced at the mansion. White streaks and a silhouette in the window spurred her on.

She kissed him.

Then she stood in shock that he kissed her back.

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Tears stung in her eyes when she slammed Rogue's door shut. "You are more than a mutation, Rogue. You're my friend." She tried to go on but was cut over curtly.

"Marie."

Kitty gaped. "What did you say?"

Rogue finally looked up from straightening the pictures on her desk. She enunciated slowly, clearly: "Marie. Mah name is Marie."

Kitty stared at her, at those bare hands. "You didn't," she whispered in horror, backing up, shaking her head. Pure denial.

And she couldn't seem to stop crying.