X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ The Camping Trip ❯ Chapter 2

See disclaimers in first chp:

Ch 2

Remy met up with Logan in the garage.  He had been packing the gear in the jeep and didn't spare a glance for the thief.  Twenty minutes later, after a thorough inspection of the vehicle and its contents, they were off.  The state park was a good three hours from the mansion.  The road leading there was mostly two lanes, occupied mainly by tractor trailers attempting to avoid weigh stations or hauling logs.  The scenery they passed was beautiful for the most part, primarily trees with periodic gaps of grasslands containing a house or barn.  It was early spring and the colors of nature were beginning to show.  They rode quietly for awhile, each lost in thought, until the silence became deafening for Gambit.

"How long we gon' be campin'?  Look like you packed enough food to last a week." 

Silence.  Not even a grunt from his volatile companion.  It was an annoying thing to be on the receiving end of a silent treatment by a lover.  Undaunted, he tried again.

"I t'ink de weather may turn.  S'pposed to rain in a few days.  May be warm during de day, but it may get cold at night, non?"

Stillness.  Not even a glance his direction.  Nothing from Logan to indicate that he even knew the other male was in the car with him.  ~'Kay~, Remy thought.  ~Guess we go de direct approach.~

"How long you gon' stay mad, Logan?  You ever gon' talk to me again, cher?"

Nothing.  He might have known.  Really, what had he expected?  His feral lover could hold a grudge a long time.  Remy sighed and turned back to stare out of his window at the monotonous view of trees, and more trees.  He placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his finger, allowing the smooth pull to calm his nerves and ease his tensions.  Placing both feet on the dash and crossing both arms over his knees, he slanted a sideways gaze towards Logan. 

"I hate de woods.  Don' know how you talk me into campin'."

Oh that did it.  Wolverine's head swung round to him, causing his hands clutching the steering wheel to naturally follow suit.  He damn near lost control of that jeep with the motion, causing it to swerve violently on the road for a few moments before regaining his composure and straightening out.  It was sheer luck that no oncoming big rig was on the opposite side of the road at the time.

"Talk ya….Listen here, swamp rat, ya didn't have ta come.  I can put ya out at the next stop and ya can find ya're own way home."  Logan was actually snarling as he growled those words.  It wasn't exactly polite, but at least he was talking now.

Remy released his white knuckle grip on the dash board and grinned slightly as he blew out a lung full of carcinogens.  "Non, Logan.  I wanna be wit' you.  Mais, why you call me swamp rat, cher?  I was raised in de city."

"If you can call me a werewolf in your Cajun patois, then I can call you a swamp rat.  Besides, you were raised in a cesspool.  That city is just as dirty as a swamp, with just as many rats.  So the term fits."

Remy fumed.  "HEY!  You can't talk about de Crescent City dat way.  I'll have you know dat N'Awlins is a belle city.  It be full of cultural and historical significance.  Most agree it be de birthplace of jazz and it…" Remy's tirade defending his beloved home town continued for another twenty minutes before he calmed down enough to realize that Wolverine had been goading him.  Successfully at that.  Almost, there was a smug look of satisfaction on Logan's face.

Logan pulled out a cigar and stuck it in his mouth.  "Yeh, well ya make it sound like the most perfect city on the planet.  Too bad ya got thrown out and can't ever go back."

Remy blanched.  His jaw opened, then snapped shut.  He shifted his whole body towards the passenger window and stared morosely at the passing trees.  Perhaps silence was better.  It had been a cold, cruel statement to make, and the truth of it hurt Remy to the core.  But, of course Logan knew it would.  It was what he wanted after all, for the boy to shut up and leave him alone to brood over a perceived hurt done to him.  Problem was, Logan felt bad about it.  The obvious body language and the scent rolling off his partner spoke volumes to him.  Inwardly, he cursed himself for being a fool.

He chewed on his cigar for a little while before he decided it was his turn to break the silence.

"Why'd ya tell 'Ro?  I thought ya didn't want no one to know 'bout us."  There was frustration in Logan's voice.  Remy could hear it.  And when he lowered his shields, he could feel it.

Remy's hand came up to scratch above his brow and run fingers through his hair as he sighed.  He turned his body slightly and stared out the front windshield as he answered.  "Can't keep nothin' from my petite Stormy, Logan, you know dat."

Logan huffed.  "So ya can tell her, but not anyone else?  Are ya ashamed of us, Remy?  Of me?"

And there it was, the heart of the problem.  Remy figured as much.  He hadn't really planned on keeping their relationship a secret forever.  He just didn't want to expose Logan to the same negative treatment that he received on a regular basis.  They would think Remy was manipulating the feral somehow, controlling him, using him.  Everyone at the mansion thought he was a whore, and by association they would think that way of Logan.  He couldn't allow that.

Remy pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight as he fought the beginnings of a headache.  He opened his eyes and turned his face towards his lover, studying the older man's profile. 

"Non, Logan.  You know dat ain't true.  Mais, Remy don't want de ot'ers to t'ink of you badly.  Dey already hate Gambit.  Don't want dat to rub off on you too.  I already tol' you dis before, cher.  Gambit knows dat be de only place you call home.  Can't take dat away from you."  He paused for a moment, returning his gaze to the front.  "Remy, he'd leave in a minute, not look back.  Only stay cause of Stormy and you, mon amour."  There was a sadness in his tone as he spoke.  It would have been unmistakable even without sensitive hearing.  It didn't make Logan feel any better about any of it, though. 

There were a few more minutes of silence when Logan finally spoke again.  "Told Cyke we'd be gone 'bout four days.  But, if the weather turns bad, we'll head back sooner."  They both continued to sulk for the rest of the drive, but at least the silent treatment had ended.

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