X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Ch 7 ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

See disclaimers, notes and warnings in ch 1

Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak

Words between * * are flashbacks

Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

Ch 7

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair, at first. The tension between Remy and the Professor was palpable. Ororo did her best to ease the situation, chattering about every little thing from the weather to the lessons for upcoming classes. Even Logan joined in the attempt to smooth things out. Remy absently pushed the sandwich around his plate, feeling their nervousness and determination to ease the proceedings. He could also feel the overwhelming and sincere guilt flowing from the older man at the end of the table. Remy knew the Professor had not malicious invaded his mind and he struggled to assure himself this was the truth.

“How is your head, Remy?” Xavier asked gently. It was evident the older man wanted desperately to put the whole fiasco behind him and move forward.

Never one to see someone suffer because of him, he finally made a decision and sighed inwardly to himself before making an attempt at forgiveness. “S'better.” Remy paused a moment before looking up at the head of the table and locking eyes with the man. “Don't worry none. You didn't know what would happen. But, t'ank you for helping to block it, Professeur. T'ink I would have made quite a mess if you hadn't stopped it.”

Xavier blinked for a moment before a slight smile formed on his lips. Relief flowed over Remy's senses so strongly that he nearly gasped. “Thank you, young man. I promise I will never go where I am not invited or needed.”

There was awkward silence for a moment and Remy felt heat rising to his cheeks. He never liked being the center of attention; it usually caused him more problems than not. Remy lowered his gaze to his plate and proceeded to tackle the sub that Logan had prepared, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he felt the others return their focus to other things besides him. As he bit into the Italian dish, he was pleasantly surprised at the spicy red peppers that gave the meal a whole new tang. His eyes snapped up to catch the feral watching him closely, and he couldn't help but smile at the man for taking his earlier half-hearted request so seriously. Logan smiled back and turned his attention back to Ororo as she prattled on about repairs to the greenhouse.

The rest of the meal was, unexpectedly, pleasant. The Cajun felt odd at having such a comfortable dinner with people who were still essentially strangers to him. It was calming and, he dared to think, family-like. A longing stirred within that he couldn't quite clamp down. It had been too long since he felt this way, even if that time before had been all too brief. He found himself wondering what his adoptive father was doing at this very moment. As suddenly as the feelings arose, however, he quashed them sourly, recalling that he no longer had an adoptive father thanks to his special gifts.

Remy was startled out of his thoughts by the deep voice of the Canadian. “How's the foot, Cajun? I noticed ya weren't limping earlier.”

“S'much better, t'anks. Don't t'ink it was sprained like we first t'ought. Maybe more a little bruised. But, Remy always been a quick healer.” He took another bite of the spicy meat, thinking nothing of the answer he had just provided.

Xavier lifted a brow. “Really? Interesting. Do you have mutant healing factor as well, then?”

Remy paused mid-chew as he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring back at him. Swallowing hard the remaining bits in his mouth, he shook his head. “Non. Not a healing factor. Can't heal dat fast, just a little quicker dan regular humans. Got somet'ing to do with my metabolism I t'ink.” /After all, de master can't really enjoy fucking with his toys when dey all beat to pieces/ he thought bitterly.

“I see. Perhaps when Dr. McCoy returns from Washington, you might let him obtain a sample of your blood for further study.” Not quite a question from the Professor, but not quite a demand either.

Remy blanched; all the color draining from his fast so fast that Logan thought he might pass out. He could smell the fear rising on the kid as well and, remembering the boy's desperation to escape the med lab previously, decided a change in topic was needed. “Hey kid, ya any good with engines?”

It took the Cajun less that a moment to process and catch onto the new subject like a life preserver. “Oui. Like to rebuild dem, especially motorcycles.”

Logan put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands loosely under his chin. “I thought that might be your bike in the garage. Ya like bikes? Hell, that's great! Been looking for a riding buddy for quite a while. Slim's about the only other one that rides around here and he's usually too busy. We could use another pair of mechanical hands around the place too. `Ro here damn near works me to the bone with that greenhouse and all her gardening nonsense.”

“Logan! That is quite untrue and rather mean.” Ororo started in a huff. “Do you even realize how much it takes to keep the grounds under control and looking descent? Well-maintained tools are essential.” She paused to wipe her mouth with her napkin, allowing a smile to appear before continuing. “If you would just fix them correctly the first time, perhaps I would not have to keep after you.”

And thus a lively and somewhat animated discussion began between the two. Remy just smirked and the meal continued with no more touchy questions. When everyone was finished, the Professor and Ororo both excused themselves after complimenting the chef. It was Remy's duty to clean the dishes and he started clearing the table. Logan didn't feel like retiring with the others and decided to help the boy.

With an handful, Logan passed Remy through the swinging door as the boy came from the kitchen to collect more of the plates on the table. It was quite amazing the amount of kitchenware soiled with only four people eating. Remy dreaded having dish duty when all the children and other adults were present for meals. He was just about to push through the door with his arms loaded when Logan came through first and paused right in front of him, blocking his path. Logan looked up at the boy for a moment then chuckled.

Remy cocked his head to one side. “What's so funny, homme?”

“Ya got some sauce on the side of your mouth.” He stated as he pointed with a finger towards Remy's face. He watched, fascinated, as a pink tongue darted out trying to swipe at the remnants unsuccessfully.

“Here, lemme.” Logan lifted his hand to the boy's face to use his thumb to gently wipe the red sauce away. But, as he touched the corner of Remy's lips, his fingers lingered, drawn by something intense that could not be explained. Logan was mesmerized and simply stared in those exotic orbs.

Remy was lost for a moment, captured by the soft blue eyes of the older man before he came to himself as a tingling sensation rose on his skin under the feral's fingers. He took a step back causing Logan's hand to fall away. Remy sidestepped the feral, wiping the side of his face with the sleeve on his bicep, and muttered a thank you as he quickly passed the man. Logan didn't turn to look at him, but rather brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked off the sauce. “Sweet and spicy” he whispered to himself before a broad grin broke out on his face. He continued his original forward motion to grab the last remaining items and followed the boy into the kitchen.

“Ya got plans again tonight bub?” Remy was standing rigid at the sink washing the dishes and pots while the older man came to stand beside him, grabbing a towel to begin drying.

“Non. But, maybe we can play some cards if you want. Not really tired at de moment.” Remy handed a dish towards the feral as he spoke, but misjudged his grasp. The plate slipped. Both men lunged to catch it before it shattered on the ground, simultaneously reaching forward. As if in slow motion their outstretched hands brushed past each other. The soft blue crackles of plasma sparked from Remy's fingers, flickering across Logan's palm. The feral stiffened at the gentle electric caress, his fingers involuntarily flexing back, opening his palm further as the sparks bounced off his skin. A rising electric heat flowed through Remy's fingers, drawing slowly up his arm and across his chest. They both stared at each other, surprised by the powerful static charge jumping between them. In an instant Remy snatched his hand away, the heat bringing with it a flush to his cheeks. He turned abruptly back to the task before him and continued on as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened and they both felt it. Logan watched the younger man's profile and inhaled the mixture of confusion, fear, and rising lust. The realization dawned on him that the emotions he sensed from the boy were mirrored in his own feelings, and his brow furrowed at the thought.

Remy fixed his gaze on the soapy water, “Why don' you go on and get de cards ready, maybe get us some beers. I'll be along in a minute after I finish up here.” He needed to be alone for a moment, to gather himself. It was quite obvious to Logan as Remy dismissed the older mutant. But Logan didn't argue, feeling like a little distance would do him some good too. Remy stood stock still as Logan slung the dishrag over his shoulder and moved over to the refrigerator. He rummaged for a brew and pushed open the kitchen door, leaving the boy alone.

As the door to the kitchen clicked shut, Remy's hands stilled then grasped the edges of the sink as his knees buckled and he slumped against the sink. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, his heart pounding, muttering to himself. “What be your problem Remy LeBeau. You acting like a virgin on a first date.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts and opened his eyes. Standing up straight, he focused on his task but his finger ends still tingled from the sparks.

After his duties were completed, he made his way slowly to the recreational room. There was a mixture of excitement and apprehension rolling through his stomach as he approached. Steeling himself, he put on his favorite mask and casually entered, sitting himself across the table from the feral.

Logan didn't even look up at the boy, just slid over a bottle and start shuffling. “Poker alright with ya?” he growled.

“Oui. What we play for?” Remy reached down and collected his cards, organizing them in his hand.

Logan placed the deck face down on the table and grabbed his own hand before looking up to catch the kid's eyes. His gaze was hard, fixing the Cajun with a dark glare, as he answered the question. “Information.”

End ch 7

*******