X-men Evolution Fan Fiction ❯ Starting Today ❯ Chapter 6

AN: Just a random reminder that I own nothing portrayed here, with the possible exception of Remy's dust bunnies.

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Wherever the Lord of Misrule was tonight, Remy was sure that He wasn't too impressed with this party. Cheap decorations, no king cake, and the beads were being offered freely at the door instead of given out the proper way, through feminine exposure. Then again, it was a high school.

Remy had been there for about half an hour and seen all kinds of pretty femmes, all dressed up in a wide range of costumes, but none of them were who he was wanting to see. Then again he hadn't seen any of the other X-Men either, so she probably wasn't here yet. Then again...

There just coming into the gym was probably the only one of King Arthur's knights to ever wear ruby quartz glasses. Figures that Summers would come as a member of the Round Table. From what Pietro says, the guy has a hero complex and a stick up his ass to boot. But what about the rest of the group? There was a redheaded Guinevere on the arm of her knight, the pony-tailed girl in her genie costume along with the blue elf that seemed to be going as himself tonight, and some others he couldn't immediately recognize. And there, just past the elf...

Delectable. That's the word that comes to mind when he sees her. He wants to swallow, but his mouth is suddenly dry and he wishes that the refreshment table wasn't on the other side of the room, because he doesn't want to lose sight of her for an instant. She was moonlight and shadow in a black slip dress that flowed around her knees, covered by a delicate- looking cape of gauzy silver mesh A black and silver feathered mask covered part of her face and she was pushing back strands of her white bangs with hands covered in elbow-length gloves. The way she moved across the room as the group separated was easy and unaffected; she didn't swing her hips as some girls did, but they had a natural sway of their own that caught the attention. A massive wave of desire slid over him as he imagined running his hands over those curves; even beneath that soft-looking cloth he was sure that she would feel divine. He couldn't remember wanting anyone this badly in a long time, if ever. She was a siren in an almost literal sense; her luscious features and creamy skin ensnared the senses, but woe to anyone who thought to touch this creature. And yet she didn't act like she was aware of this power she had over the male libido. How could she not though? She'd been at the center of every sinful thought he'd had this past week. Was it just the forbidden aspect of it that attracted him? He had to admit that the idea of look but don't touch intrigued him, especially since that concept had never applied to him before.

Merde, Remy, are you going to just stand here and cream your jeans or are you going to talk to the girl? Doesn't matter if she's Venus herself, you've never let a femme get to you like this before.

Rogue had just left the refreshment table with a drink, and was now off to one side, watching the dancing. She didn't congregate with the rest of the X-Men, and seemed to keep a distance from everyone around her. She seemed a little bored with the proceedings, and watched the dancers with a mix of envy and scorn. No time like the present, Remy. Let's see if we can go show Chere a good time and relieve her boredom.

And with thought he started making his way across the room.

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The first thing she noticed about him was his walk. He had an insolent swagger that said he knew every female eye was on him and he liked it that way. And he was right. Girls' eyes were on him constantly as he walked across the room, some looking like they wanted to swoon. This attitude was matched by the pirate's costume he wore. He could have been Errol Flynn reborn in tight black leather pants that tucked into ankle boots, a soft looking white shirt that was partially unbuttoned at the top, exposing a bit of muscular chest. A black bandanna was tied on his head but she could see auburn hair gathered into a ponytail in the back. A black eye-mask completed the outfit, leaving the clean lines of his face exposed, with the hint of a goatee. He seemed to be moving to the refreshment table so Rogue allowed herself the pleasure of admiring his ass as she stood off to the side, a few dozen yards away.

And a fine ass it is too. I wonder who he is. There's something slightly familiar about him, but he doesn't seem like anyone I remember seeing around school. Oh well, he's probably the boyfriend of one of the cheerleaders. I think a couple of them have guys in college. Stop drooling, Rogue, you'll never have a guy like that. He looks like he could have a date every night of the week if he wanted. Heh, with the way he walks he probably does, too. And she would have stopped that line of thinking and her contemplation of his fine, albeit arrogant ass had she not noticed out of the corner of her eye that he had now moved past the refreshment table and was coming towards her. What the hell could he want? It's not like she was beating her dance partners off with a stick. In fact with her track record at dances she almost preferred it that way. Putting her partner into a coma had left a bad taste in her mouth at the idea of dancing with someone else. Which was a shame because she loved to dance; she just didn't consider herself very good at it and preferred that no one else be around when she tried it.

He was almost next to her when she allowed herself to turn and look at his face. That's when she saw it. Them, rather. His eyes. Red on black. She had only seen eyes like that once before.

Holy shit. It couldn't be.

She turned her face quickly and looked away, trying to catch her breath and still the spark of excitement in her chest, a spark she hadn't felt since she was on a battlefield a week ago, when she had stood drooling like an idiot while the enemy tried to blow her hand off. What the hell was he doing here? She knew he didn't go to school here; he looked a couple of years older than her and she would have noticed someone like him in school before if he attended. What to do? She couldn't cause a scene; Principal Kelly had made it very clear that any mutant activity at this dance would result in expulsion and she couldn't risk anyone getting in trouble. Keep your cool, Rogue.

"Bonjour Chere"

Oh hell, he was a Cajun all right. What a sexy voice, a husky purr that just went right through you. Damn him anyway.

"What do you think you're doing here, Swamp Rat? I know you're not a student."

"Remy's not looking for any trouble, Chere. This poor Cajun is a long way from home and thought he'd come to the Mardi Gras party and be homesick. It sounds like you're a long way from home also, so maybe we could be homesick together? I'm sure none of these other Yankees know how to party properly. Shall we dance?"

"And why would I want to dance with you? I don't make a habit of hanging out with Buckethead's errand boys."

"You know you want to, Chere. Remy noticed you checking out his ass a minute ago. Besides, we're both in costume; no one else will have to know who your partner is. And if Remy can't dance with the prettiest femme in the room, he'll have to go ask Cyclops over there instead. Do you think he'd say yes, or do you think he'd want to start something? The school doesn't seem too happy with mutants right now; I doubt they'd like a fight happening at their little party."

"Are you trying to blackmail me, Gambit?"

"No, just think of it as a little friendly persuasion. And please, call me Remy. Gambit is for business hours, and Remy most definitely considers talking to you a pleasure."

"You could have fooled me, Swamp Rat. Last time we met you almost took my hand off!"

"Can you really say you're so innocent, petite? Remy remembers very clearly one of your pretty hands being bare at our last meeting." He took one of her gloved hands and stroked the knuckles gently. "So what do you say, does Remy get to dance with you or does he have to take his chances with Cyclops?"

"Alright Cajun, but only because I don't want you causing any trouble here."

Remy smirked and tightening his grasp on her hand, led her out onto the dance floor. A slow, hypnotic beat was playing and Remy drew her close into his arms. Rogue froze at the proximity and tried to back off, but Remy tightened his grasp and held her a little closer. "Shhhh.petite. Remy knows about your mutation. He won't let anything happen. We don't want any accidents on our first dance." Rogue tried to not be so stiff but couldn't quite relax with having him so close. He was so warm against her; good lord it had been so long since she had been held. She thought of the various naughty thoughts she'd tried not to have about him since they met a week ago and blushed; his arms were strong around her and his breath so soft in her ear, she thought she'd melt into a puddle right there.

"Chere, why so tense? Tonight's a night for make believe. You are not you, and I am not me. We are two masks in a crowd. We can be enemies again tomorrow, but tonight play make believe with Remy."

Rogue didn't quite trust herself to answer but allowed herself to relax against him a little more. He was right; no one had to know, no one else knew who he was. She could hate him tomorrow. If anyone asked she could just say that she couldn't tell who it was because of the costume. Surely she could just let herself go a little for just one night. The mask she wore through life got so tiresome at times. Ironic that she had to use one mask to drop another. She could pretend for one night that this gorgeous man in her arms was not her enemy and just a stranger she met at Mardi Gras.

And so it went through the night. Remy didn't let go of her hand after the first song but kept her with him through song after song, stroking her fingers through her glove as his body moved against hers. Neither spoke, they just allowed their bodies to communicate through the music. Rogue was on fire; desire was the new blood that ran through her and she didn't know whether to love the feeling or hate it. On the one hand she couldn't touch, and this couldn't possibly go anywhere so why torment herself by allowing herself to feel this way; on the other hand this had never happened to her before and she thought it probably would never happen again so why not enjoy it why it lasts? Life is made of moments. Sometimes you just have to grab the ones you come across.

Remy started to withdraw a little before the dance was to end. "I'm hoping maybe you might allow a kiss goodnight to end our make believe?" Remy had stopped talking in third person soon after they started dancing, seeming to want to keep any associations with his normal identity out of her mind.

"Not if you want to walk out of here on your own two feet, Swamp Rat." The request for a kiss had broken the spell she had been under, and reminded her just who she was and why tonight could only be make believe.

"Je suis desole, Chere; lips like yours are made for kissing." He took the hand that he hadn't really let go of all night and placed a lingering kiss on her fingers instead. The look in his eyes made it clear that he'd rather be kissing her mouth instead.

Feeling a sharp ache in her stomach she tore her hand from him. "I have to go, Swamp Rat. Thanks for the dance, but I swear if you tell anyone about this I'll knock that pretty little ass of yours into next week." Realizing what she'd just said, she bit her lip and glared at him. Remy just smirked and, giving her a little bow, walked out of the room, giving said ass a little shake as he did. Turning away, she almost bumped into her roommate Kitty, who was trying to hide a grin and failing miserably.

"So like, who was THAT, Rogue?"

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