Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Feeling creative? Post your fan stories and fan art here!
SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Mon Jan 12, 2004 6:56 pm

Heaven Leaves Shadows - Faded Flowers

Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m a sap for mushy love stuff. Here are a few of the X-Men, living life and dealing with the many curves that it throws them. Expect Polaris/Iceman, Cyclops/Jean, and Rogue/Gambit at least. Watch out for some language and maybe some sexual innuendo in the next chapters.

.

.

Bobby Drake’s Definition of a Leader - “Mindless son of a bitch who wears doofy shades and Spandex. Hey, get your hand off that visor!”

.

.

.
“I got three aces.”

“Liar, you have two cards.” Bobby said, smirking playfully. Tonight, the pot would be his.

Remy had other ideas. “Doesn’ mean I can’t have three aces.”

“That’s only because you cheat.” Absentmindedly, Lorna checked her two cards. With five other people, she was playing Texas Hold ‘Em, and finding it immensely stupid. The dim lighting was giving her a headache, it was past eleven and she was tired. Still, if she left the table now, Bobby would label her a wuss for the rest of the week.

“Do not.” The Cajun said with a lopsided, yet charming, grin. Across the table, Scott Summers snorted. Remy not a cheater? Yeah, right.

To Scott’s left, Hank was teaching Kurt the subtle nuances of a poker face. Kurt had proved to be the worst bluffer anyone else had ever seen. Certifiable, seeing as it was his first time.

“So you don’t go for reverse psychology, ja?” Kurt seemed to finally be understanding that the main key was to express no emotion whatsoever.

“Yes.”

“Hank, mein freund?”

“Yes?” Hank asked.

“Why is a flush worth more than a straight?” Hank shrugged and turned his attention back to the game, raising Scott by two chips.

Kurt took a moment to study his cards. After staring intently at them, he turned back to Hank. “Can I raise you one?”

Hank looked fairly surprised. “Sure.”

Too late, Hank caught the mischievous glint in Kurt’s eye. “Can I raise you sixty?”

A bit weakly, Hank nodded. A few gasps arose from the room.

“He’s bluffing!” said Bobby as he lay down sixty dollars worth of chips. Somehow, though, he didn’t look so certain.

Remy thought hard for a second, grappling with common sense and gambler’s instinct versus his will to win. He finally set down his chips. “What the hell, I bet twenty bucks on dis pot already anyway.”

At his words, Jean came in, passing out drinks. She didn’t seem happy at her cocktail-waitress position, but Scott had insisted. Either she left or she made herself useful. “Remind me again why I can’t play?” The answer was painfully obvious, but she still felt it was unacceptable.

“Because you’re a telepath.” Bobby recited. Every night the same question, every night the same answer. What, did she think they were stupid?

Jean glared as usual, but continued passing out beers. The rest returned to their game, so only Lorna caught the wink that passed between the German and the telepath. Decisively, she threw down her cards and sacrificed her original bet so as not to lose sixty more. Scott saw her action and followed her example. After all remaining players had agreed to the score, they lay down their hands. Bobby, three of a kind. Remy, straight. Hank, pair.

Kurt, straight flush.

“Damn it!” Remy raged as Kurt collected the chips.

Scott offered a smile. “So did Remy lose the pot for once?” he asked teasingly.

To his surprise, Remy smiled back, though it was a more insolent smirk. “Don’ worry ‘bout me, it was your money anyway.”

Which left Scott wondering exactly what that meant and where he had last left his wallet.





Supposedly, Diet drinks were worse for people than regular sodas. Go figure. Rogue figured it would go straight to her hips no matter what she drank.

Not like slugging out on the couch with a bag of Cheetos X’s and O’s watching Scrubs was all that healthy either. But she figured she deserved some alone time while the others played poker or served drinks. Poor Jean. She shouldn’t have let herself get pushed around like that.

Either way, she was happiest when she was alone. Then she didn’t have to remember her ‘problem’. Her goddamn mutation.

“Chere?” Remy’s quiet voice made it clear that he wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep.

She raised her head slightly to see him as he walked in. “Hmm? You lose all your money again?”

“Hell, wasn’ my money anyway.” Leaning against the edge of the sofa, he shot her his trademark smirk.

Rogue eyed him suspiciously. “Wasn’t from mah brother, was it?”

“Nah, it as Scott’s.” With that, he put his face into her hair and delivered a kiss to it, keeping enough of the chestnut waves to prevent skin contact. It made her nervous when he did that, he knew that for a fact. So he did it just to get a rise out of her. It was his way of continually flirting.

The belle shot him daggers. “Someday you’re gonna miss mah hair, hotshot.”

He smiled obnoxiously. “What kinda shampoo ya been usin’?”

She turned back to the TV, but the fact that it was a commercial made sure she couldn’t be pretending to watch it. She decided it was best to change the topic. “So who won tonight?”

“Your brother.” He made a move to kiss her hair again, but she held him back.

“Get to bed! You’ve had enough drinks for tonight!” She pushed him away, secretly both unnerved and delighted at his urge to touch her.

Remy shrugged and walked towards the bedroom. “I aint drunk.” He added as a sidenote.

“Ya wouldn’t be able to tell!” She called out after him, trying to keep a serious tone. Settling back down on the couch, Rogue was pleased to see the show was back on. Elliot was been picked on by Doctor Cox, and Cheetos were perfect for companions for a lonely girl on a faded flowered couch.

Inside the bedroom, Remy sighed for the umpteenth time at the sight of two separate beds, with their faded flower pillows perfectly arranged.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:34 am

ohmygod! This story is so funny! I demand more! MORE I SAY!!! That was so awesome how Kurt and Jean cheated...Do they get to split the money...

And WHY do you ALWAYS make Rogue yell at Remy? Why can't Remy yell at her?
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:39 am

Because. :P Plus, she's only jokin', and she's got all rights to be cranky.

Besides, Remy yelled at her in the TFA.

BTW, Kurt will play a rather large part in the pieces to come, after the Bobby/Lorna scenarios.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:41 am

!!! does he make them come together again all cute blue german elf style?
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:42 am

Question is, are they really truly apart? :smirk

Next up is Scott's Interlude...Scott worries about Jean.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:44 am

:surprise Scott worries?!! Why?! Can Kurt help fix the problem?
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:45 am

Maybe...It's not complete yet. So far, him being paranoid and a wee bit neurotic.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Jan 13, 2004 3:48 am

Awww If I liked Scott I would be sad but.. I don't say HA to him! Ha I say!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Jan 13, 2004 7:09 pm

Scott’s Interlude - Sun-Dwelling Creature

Author’s Note: The interludes come between every regular chapter. They’re first-person, present tense. Every main character will have one.
A/N2: Sorry, bit of an angst fest here. Not so light-hearted as the last chapter. I’ll be back to my old sarcastic third-person self next chapter.






Scott’s Fundamental Law of Life - “Number one rule - Worship Jean.”




Jean’s looking out the window, brow furrowed a little bit. It’s obvious she hates November. Hell, it’s not my favorite month either. No sun, just grey skies, but not enough to snow. The kids all stay inside and drive the adults up the wall.

Who can blame her? She’s a sun-dwelling creature, and this whole damn season’s draining her dry. She thrives off of summer gold and spring greens and pinks. Grey just doesn’t work for her, despite her last name.

Me, on the other hand, if it were not for her bad mood I’d like it. She may like the sunlight, but I can never see it anyway. Damn sunglasses. Everything’s red, even after all this time. Frankly, I don’t care if the sky’s blue or maroon.

Jean, though. She gets restless around this time. And she’s so distant nowadays. Something’s up, and she’s not telling me.

“Scotty, honey?” she asks, just to make sure I’m listening.

Scotty honey yourself, dear.

Instead of snapping at her (God, her mood’s getting to me too), I just look at her with the same interest that Bobby shows Lorna (or rather, her rack and ass). Not as hungrily as he does it though, and I make sure I’m looking at her face.

“What’s going on in your life?”

Have we fallen so far apart that we have to ask this? Why doesn’t she just reach into the back of my head like she used to?

Oh, right. Respective distance. Room to breathe.

“Not much. Watch the kids, sort out fights, scrape gum off the bottom of desks. You?” I try to stay nonchalant. Really, I mean: What the hell have you been doing and why won’t you tell me?

My subconscious is screaming at me. It’s asking why the hell shed want that respective distance in the first place.

“Same here. Damn kids keep sticking their gum under the tables. It’s disgusting.” Even while wrinkling her nose, she’s still gorgeous. Gorgeous, and still looking out the window.

Of course she wouldn’t look at me. How could a perfect, sun-dwelling creature like her ever love someone who hides behind their visor and their glasses? I’ve been hiding so long it’s second nature, and for all her efforts, she can never drag me out of the shadows.

I was foolish to think this love would last. I’ve based my life around her, and she keeps drifting off again. I was lucky to marry her. Someday, while I’m gone, she’ll drift out to sea again, and I won’t be there to reel her in. Logan or Hank or someone else will catch her. I guess keeping her is just too much trouble. A whole helluva lot more trouble than I bargained for.

Love isn’t enough. A pretty girl like her, she’s got suitors everywhere and she can pick and choose.

She slinks onto the bed next to me. I can touch her, but she’s so far gone. Her mind is elsewhere. Of course, for a telepath, that’s easy. “You don’t think it’ll snow, will it?”

What the hell. If she doesn’t last, I may as well enjoy myself. “Ask ‘Roro if she’ll do anything.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She says softly, as if she’s half-asleep. I get the feeling she’s talking to someone else. She gets groggy when telepathically connecting with someone for a long time. I wonder who she’s talking to.

“Jean?” She’s curling up next to me, pulling the sheet towards her.

“Mmm-hmm?” It’s these little times, when she yanks the covers away to leave my bare legs shivering, that I love her the most.

“God, Jean, I’m in my boxers and the door’s open.” She doesn’t respond. Rubbing my hands to my thighs for heat, I move to the door and close it. Not a great time for Drake to come by and see that I have dinosaur undies on.

On the bed lies my little sun-dwelling creature, mine for as long as I can keep her. I go back over to her, play with her hair. Red like fire, red like ruby-quartz, red like the sunset. Red, the only color I can see. Red.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

StarLightCrawler
Shoulder Parrot
Shoulder Parrot
Posts: 148
Joined: Sat Dec 06, 2003 3:18 am
Location: USA
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by StarLightCrawler » Wed Jan 14, 2004 9:06 am

Ok shecat ask me to star posting on the fanfics. I read them but normaly don't post. Any who I loved the the part with Gambet and Rouge. I have always like stuff like this with them. As for Scott and Jean. Well he worry all the time realy buti do think she will leave him. In the New X-Men she is drifting away from him. I don;t like either one of them but i neve didi like Jean with Scott. Sorry Scott just how i feel on it.
Sorry for any miss typing or miss spelling.
If (sp) is by the word that means i don't know how to spell it.
Image :respectnc
My Kurt Site. Life
De kant spel fore beenz klub member# 3

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Sat Jan 17, 2004 4:22 am

aww it was on of those poor scott can only see red fics! Those always make me depressed! you're mean! meanie! grrr writes more and make some people happy dernit!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

Rowena
Global Moderator
Global Moderator
Posts: 886
Joined: Fri Dec 19, 2003 12:55 am
Location: Time And Relative Dimension In Space
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Rowena » Sat Jan 17, 2004 6:18 pm

You'd think that as a telepath Jean would be a bit nicer to Scott. He's so obvious about his feelings for her! I really loved that card game! Can't wait to read more!
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Thu Jan 22, 2004 4:12 pm

Chapter Three - Look at the Sunset


Author’s Note: I may feel the need to smash your heads in with really obvious metaphors. Beware.





Remy’s Words to Live By - “Never, and I mean never, eat four chili cheesedogs before bed.”





“Ppthaw!” Rogue woke spitting out cat fur. The culprit, an orange tabby, leapt obliviously down from her face onto the floor. The belle glared down at it. The creature had two names: ‘Bellbottoms’, for no obvious reason by Lorna, and ‘Damn Cat’, by Remy. The latter was by far its most common name.

“Damn you, furball. Ah was sleepin’, you fluffy moron.” She said peevishly. Why the hell didn’t Lorna take care of her own cat? Instead, everyone else ran about feeding him, cleaning up his litter box and doing other odd chores that the scrap of dog-bait left for them.

That scrap of dog-bait looked up at Rogue with huge, round eyes. “You probably want me to feed you now, right?”

A meow seemed to confirm the answer.

“Well, Lorna wants ya to have Purina or Fancy Feast or somethin’, but you can suck it up and have what everybody else is having.” Rogue said, plotting on ways to sneak a less than desired breakfast beneath the table.





“I dunno, Remy, it just seems like she’s avoiding it.” Said Bobby. The Cajun shrugged. Drake continued. “I mean, she never says ‘I love you’, she never wants to kiss me, she never seems to think of me as anything but her toy or repairman - are you laughing at me?” Bobby glared as Remy tried to suppress bitter laughter.

Remy looked at him playfully, smirk running across his face. “Non, just thinkin’. You t’ink you have a screwed relationship?” He said self-deprecatingly.

“Wait till I tell Rogue you said that!”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Would too!” Bobby punched Remy in the arm jokingly. Seeing that his companion didn’t share his enthusiasm, his face fell. “Well then, I guess we’re the two un-kissed dudes.”

A shrug, but it came with a smile.

Bobby decided to start up a less sensitive subject. “So, I heard the Saints lost. Again.”

Taking the teasing in his stride, Remy blew it off. “I never liked baseball anyway.”

“It’s football, you doofus. What do we call them now, the Louisiana Aint’s?” The younger man continued. The other didn’t seem to mind all that much.

“Oh, well, dat’s how much I know about sports.”

Bobby quickened his pace. “Wait up, you’ve got longer legs than me!”

A more-than-obvious roll of the eyes. “Oh, and dat makes all de dif-!”

Bobby winced as Remy tumbled down the stairs. A loud yelp signaled for him to look at his friend. “Remy, y’okay?”

“Damn it!”

“Remy?” Bobby took a closer look down the stairs, where Remy had cupped his bleeding nose in his hands. It didn’t look like anything life-threatening.

“Damn it!” Bobby thumped down the stairs after him. Now that he knew his companion wasn’t fatally injured, he could laugh about it as much as he wanted.

“Aww, did Mistah Male Supah Model of the Year get a boo-boo?” He dodged a badly aimed kick. Remy glared up at the stairs.

“Which idiot left a pair of loafers in de hallway?”

Bobby decided to further press the thief’s buttons. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Then it’s hilarious.”

If looks could kill.




Even for Kurt, Bellbottoms was a test of patience. For the fourth time that month the damn thing had taken a dump on a bed, and as usual, Kurt was left to clean it up as the other shied off to do random tasks. A few choice words flitted across his mind, but he decided against them.

Of course, Bellbottoms was a master of disguise as well. How could you hate such a fluffy, loving little creature? It rubbed against Kurt’s leg, purring dynamically.

Wondering about the validity of Bobby’s excuse that he ‘had to go save the dodos’, Kurt, brought down yet another pair of sheets to the laundry room. From the washing machine there emanated a meow. Kurt removed a furry mass from the machine, wondering how it had magically reappeared there from by his feet. Maybe the cat could teleport too.

Kurt placed the fuzzy burden in the bathroom, along with a clean litterbox. Bellbottoms protested. Kurt put down some food and water to go with it. Still the feline cried out.

“What more do you want? You have food, water, a bathroom and light, and you can hide here so no one hates you!” He said almost fiercely.

The thing seemed capable of an accusing glare. Kurt shut the door on it.

No, he thought. Being able to hide in peace wasn’t enough for anyone or anything. The poor cat just needed some love. Like Kurt. He didn’t want to spend his entire life hiding his appearance, he just wanted acceptance.

Maybe the cat did too.

Sighing theatrically, Kurt opened the door and started to pet the striped bundle.





“I deserve a kiss for this.” He said matter-of-factly, tousled brown hair hanging just above his eyebrows as he poked his head out from under the bed. For the umpteenth time, he was fixing the bed. For some odd reason, it kept caving in.

“No, I don’t think so.” Lorna said to her ‘boyfriend’ with equal quaintness.

“Oh, c’mon, my breath isn’t that bad.” Bobby crawled out from under the bed.

Irately, “I said no, Bobby.”

“C’mon, Lorna.” He said, equally annoyed.

She turned her back to him. “If we kiss now we’ll both be in pissy moods and it won’t be worth it.”

Bobby couldn’t believe he was hearing this again. “That’s what you always say.”

“Well, it’s true.”

Bobby slumped onto the bed. “Well, how bad could it be? `I mean, I’m pretty sure neither of us has Rogue’s kiss of death.”

Lorna’s brow furrowed and her green hair beginning to rise with static. “I said no, Bobby.”

“Why not?” He’d heard this too many times before.

“Because.”

His face started to redden. “Because what, Lorna? Because I’m not Alex? God knows you’d be sucking my tongue off if I were him!”

A shudder of age ran through Lorna. “Don’t you mention him.” She said with deadly intent.

Bobby stood up, eyes narrowed. “Why, Lorna? It’s because I’m sloppy seonds, isn’t it, ever since Alex ran off with -“

“Don’t you dare mention him! Don’t you ever mention him again!” Lorna turned to him, rage emanating from her entire body, eyes glowing. Bobby looked taken aback, then straightened.

“You know what? I don’t think I want to be sloppy seconds.” Now it was Bobby who turned, and walked out. Lorna stared after him, halfway between wrath and shock. What had just happened there? Had he just left her?

Outside the room, Bobby rushed through the halls. He didn’t want to cry, he was a big boy, but Lorna had played that game for too long. He loved her and she acted like it was nothing. That wasn’t the way to a healthy relationship. Not when Alex still hovered in their silences.

Out under the dogwood trees, in the frigid cold, Bobby sternly told himself he wouldn’t cry. He would just get over it. He wouldn’t mope, wouldn’t complain, wouldn’t talk it over. For God’s sake, he wouldn’t cry.





“Rogue, mein schwester, is that you standing there all alone?” Kurt walked up behind her, stood with her on the balcony. “You’ll catch a death of cold.”

Rogue smiled. She didn’t plan on staying out there long, what with her long-sleeved yet light shirt and her skirt and leggings.

“What are you looking at?” Her half-brother asked.

“Well, Ah’m trying to see what up on the road.” A sour look crossed her face. “Damn these dogwood trees. Ah can’t see what the hell is going on! Ah can’t see the road!”

“Then why don’t you look at the sunset?” He said simply.

She looked up at it, beautiful reds and golds playing across the clouds. “Ah guess Ah just never thought about it.”

“Hmm. Shall we watch it a little while longer?”

Rogue grinned at him. “Ah’m cold. Can ya wrap an arm or tail ‘round me or somethin’?”

He obliged, wrapping his arm around her waist. They swayed slightly together, like the dogwood trees in the wind.

“Guess there are advantages to fur.” She said softly, dreamily, watching the sun play with colors that mocked even the greatest of painters.

She’d never let anyone else hold her like that. Not anyone, not even Remy. There was a special connection there Raven’s children that could never be severed.

After a few minutes, the sun decided its game was over and ended with indigos and cobalt. They returned each to their respective rooms, where Rogue saw to her delight that Remy had made the beds that morning, and Kurt found Bellbottoms sleeping on his couch.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Thu Jan 22, 2004 5:29 pm

I agree...cats have an ability to get out of trouble even when they do something evil like crapping where they shouldn't be crapping!

I thought this chapter was really cute, especially with the cat and then bobby and remy sharing angst relationship stories.
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Thu Feb 05, 2004 4:16 pm

Bobby’s Interlude - High School Love

Author’s Note: Sorry about the really slow updates. I’m trying, honestly. I intended to finish the Tempting Fate Arc (hosted on Nightscrawlers because it was started a long time ago), but found myself stuck. And for the past week I’ve had Bobby jabbering away in my head to write his interlude. So my profuse apologies.




“Women are like ice cream. The instant they get all mushy they’re no fun anymore.” ~Bobby Drake




I hate it when this happens. I hate these stupid little arguments. Why can’t we just have a big old blowout fight and get it over with? At least I’d be able to blame someone.

I feel awful. Damn. It’s like I want to go get something to eat or watch TV or play X-Box or just do anything, but she’s everywhere. It’s like one of those bad country songs. I just can’t get her out of my head.

I’m so damn mad at her. Mad at myself too, but that keeps slipping to the back of my mind. Where does she get away with treating me like a consolation prize? This isn’t high school. They may think I’m a kid but I’m not.

And why do I feel so lousy? I mean, I told her how I felt and it doesn’t help one damn bit.

A few hours ago, drinking, Remy said something (I think. It’s not like he was making that much sense anyway. Too many tequilas.) about talking it over. Oh crap, I’m taking relationship advice from Remy. How does that go? “Hey sugah I’m leavin’ you in Antarctica?” “Love you too, chere.”?

One a.m. and I’ve got one thing to be grateful for. I’m not them.

I hate that. I hate that I can’t be the lowest of the low. Bobby Drake, in the middle, unnoticed, yet again.

I just need to go apologize. I need to go get her out of my head.

These hallways are dang cold at night. And lonely. My guess is that Kurt’s awake writing a letter or down in the Danger Room, Rogue’s conked out on the couch, Remy’s conked out on the bed, Hank’s conked out in the lab, Jean’s conked out in her room, and Scott’s got the insomnia from Hell but won’t admit it. And Lorna’s asleep on the bed I fixed last afternoon.

My chances: she’s barely awake and she tells me to shut up and go to bed, or she’s barely awake and cranky and she tells me to shut the fuck up and get my ass to bed.

Why am I shaking? It’s not like I love her anymore or anything.

Right, Bobby. Just keep fooling yourself.

“Bobby?” What, she was awake? And yes, she’s on the couch.

Don’t look back now, Mr. Drake.

“Lorna?” Well, now I know why the movies always do that. All those actors asking each other’s names before they say anything. It’s like a Valley Girl ‘like’. It’s a stall. An ‘umm’.

I hear a sniff. Oh my God, is she crying?

“Bobby, can you come over here?” Well, I came here to see her and she’s not telling me to shut the fuck up and get my ass to bed. “Can you sit right there?”

In the back of my head, the little voice says I’m letting her control me again. But it’s now or never. Or maybe later if not now. “Lorna, I just-“

“God, Bobby, I’m so sorry. I’m a royal bitch.” It’s not what she’s saying that’s surprising me as much as that she just wrapped her arms around my neck and is holding me closer than she ever has before. “Bobby, I’m just so sorry. I love you, I really do, but I just - I love you but-“

It’s what I want, isn’t it? It’s what I really want, right?

“Lorna, why?” I have to ask. I have to.

“I’m just so scared I’ll get attached again. Last time I got attached, he ran off with that little-!” She breaks out into sobs. Guess I’m going to have to change shirts.

Shirts. That’s all I can think about.

“I just don’t want you to be him!” She sobs.

Silence has a name. It’s called Alex.

What can I do? What can I do, knowing she still in love with Alex, even if she loves me too?

“I’m not Alex, Lorna.” I’m holding her now too. I just want her so close. “I’m Bobby.”

The way her voice is so icy cold scares me. “I know.”

Remy and Rogue have that touch problem. Lorna and I have an ex.

Fantastic.

I can’t even hear what she’s saying now. It’s just going into my shirt. And quite honestly, if it’s anything like how she greeted me, I agree. She has been a bitch. I’ve been a jackass. What a pair.

“Lorna, could you stop breaking my ribs? I can’t breathe when you hold me like that.”

Of course she’s not listening. She never listens.

“Ummm…goodnight, Lorna?” She’s still crying into my shirt. “Well, okay…I’ll stay a little while.”

God, I’m tired.

I don’t know if I’m dreaming or not, because I’m in a tuxedo and she’s in a white wedding dress with red roses. And for once, she’s not thinking about Alex. And for once, silence has only one name. Silence.

When I wake up, she’s still in my arms and the birds are breaking the silence.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

Rowena
Global Moderator
Global Moderator
Posts: 886
Joined: Fri Dec 19, 2003 12:55 am
Location: Time And Relative Dimension In Space
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Rowena » Fri Feb 06, 2004 12:52 am

I love those little sayings at the start of the chapters! They fit the characters so well, especially Bobby's about the ice cream.

That cat scene was adorable, and it was just so Kurt the way he turned Rogue's attention to the sunset!

Slow updates are OK, just so long as there are updates! I'm really enjoying this so far! :D
"There are worlds out there where the sky is burning, where the sea's asleep and the rivers dream, people made of smoke and cities made of song. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice and somewhere else the tea is getting cold. Come on, Ace, we've got work to do."
~The Doctor, Survival

"There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes."
~The Doctor, Robot

"If this isn't civilization, why am I standing in a bomb crater?"
~Hawkeye Pierce, M.A.S.H.

Rowena Zahnrei's Stories: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena_Zahnrei

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Fri Feb 06, 2004 1:06 pm

I couldn't help but laugh when he said the thing about Remy and Rogue!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

Siona
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1534
Joined: Sat Aug 02, 2003 6:38 pm
Location: UT, USA

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Siona » Sat Feb 07, 2004 10:06 pm

Mmm...Polaris/Iceman goodness. :lick

The cat is the best part of all! *cuddle*

~Siona
You cannot stop me. You cannot destroy me. For I am the cockroach of looove.

"Ah, young love. Stupid pencils."
-- SheCat.

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Feb 10, 2004 5:34 pm

Chapter 5 - Where the Blues Go



Author’s Note: Cranking up the angst here, because a regular day is just too ordinary. Part of this is a self-deprecating joke, because we ran out of propane a few days ago and nearly froze in our own house. I was in the shower at the time, and it was cold.

Random silly team moment chucked in at the end. Because I need a little light-heartedness. Most of the heartache is based on my own experience (not that I’ve had that much experience. I’ve never been loved).






Rogue’s Observations - “Playin’ Trivial Pursuit with Hank is waste of time. Period.”





It was like his blood was ice water, or just ice itself. It stung whenever he moved, and about a hundred cold-related diseases came to mind. Pneumonia, hypothermia, frostbite, the list went on and on. Painfully raising his hand to try to help open his eyes, he rued the day he’d ever laid eyes on her.

Damn. His eyelashes had frozen together and he couldn’t feel his fingers. He scratched at his eyes to help open them. All around him, a normally pristine beauty was just another reminder that his hope was slim. The expanse was as endless as his chances were small.

Spitting out blood from the cuts on his chapped lips, he dared one last time to look up. Nothing but white, white, horrible white. If he ever got home, he’d never wear white again.

If he ever got home again, he’d take a nice, long, hot shower. But home wasn’t here, because nothing lived here. Tears had frozen raw tracks on his face long ago. There weren’t any left, just that small sliver of hope, and endless, endless white.

He hated her! She was why he was here, knowing that he was freezing to death and being unable to stop it. A slow, horribly obvious death. It was all her fault!

It was so cold. It was so, so cold. Lying down in the snow, he spit out more blood and promised himself not to fall asleep, though he knew he didn’t have the will to care anymore. He could just relax a little. Just a little, and then that awful cold would all end.





Fourth time in a week. Remy woke up shivering, grabbing frantically for the blanket he’d kicked off. Once he had piled at least three more on top of himself, he tried to remember exactly what he’d dreamt about.

Antarctica was over. They’d gotten over it years ago. They said ‘no regrets’ and moved on. And she loved him and it was an innocent mistake.

Even while he mentally repeated that to himself, he couldn’t help the fear and the anger clamping around his chest like a vice.

“Rogue?” Poking his head out of his mound of covers, he cast a glance over at the other bed. Sometime during the night, she’d snuck back into the room. “Rogue?”

“Mmm?” It must have either been early at night or late in the morning, because she wasn’t totally asleep. She rolled over to face him, drunken with sleep. “Whah?

He needed to hear it. The recurring memories had gone far enough. He needed her to reassure him. “Rogue, do you love me?”

Normally, the fact that he’d even said that would set off alarm bells for her. But it was dark, and she was tired, and whatever made him happy. “O’ course Ah do.” She closed her eyes, hoping he would just let her get some rest.

“How much, Rogue? How much?” He pulled another cover on top of himself.

“Mmmm.” She rolled back over. “Unconditionally.”

After a while, her breathing slowed and became deep. Remy stared at the ceiling, neurotically burrowing himself even further beneath his small mountain of blankets. He still couldn’t stop shivering.





“Lorna?” Bobby blinked several times at the bright light piercing his eyes. Stupid sun. “Lorna, you can let go of my neck now.”

His little green-haired gal had wrapped her arms around him during her sleep. Now, with her clinging to him, he couldn’t move. Carefully, he removed her hand from the space between his shoulders. She protested slightly, still asleep. Softly, he brushed a strand of forest green from her cheek. “Lorna, wakey wakey.”

“I’m awake.” She said groggily. Bobby got up and started off. Lorna eyed him nervously, suddenly possessive. “Where are you going?”

“Shower.” He said simply.

Lorna sat up, satisfied with his answer. She yawned. “Leave me some hot water, will you?”

“You know I only take cold showers.” He said almost perkily. He’d had such a nice dream.

She nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast, then.” She blew him a kiss. He grinned. Today was looking up.





Today had been looking up for Bobby and Bobby alone, because something had happened to the pilot light. Everyone else looked murderous. Hank and Kurt were by far the worst off, since they had both been halfway through shampooing their fur when the heat had gone out.

Jean had been lucky. She’d taken an early shower and had decided to cook. Rogue, too, had come down to make breakfast, but that was only after her scream of “Who the hell flushed the toilet?!” had echoed throughout the entire mansion.

A shirtless Kurt came down next, still wiping suds of soap off of his wet coat. Bellbottoms trailed at his heels, pleading for food and licking bubbles off his ankle.

“Breakfast, oh brother mine?” Rogue asked with forced perkiness. She wanted to snap at him for something, but just because her day had started bad didn’t mean everyone else had to suffer.

“Was ist?” Kurt grabbed a cup and started up the coffee machine.

“Sausage, hash and eggs. What would you like?” Jean asked with cheerleader-like enthusiasm. Rogue figured that all those poker nights serving drinks had finally addled her brain.

Rogue eyed the coffee machine. “Kurt, can you make me one of them mochas you do so nicely?”

“Ja, mein schwester. Two packs of sugar, right?” Kurt, with the use of his tail, was very efficient at getting beverages ready. “And a hot chocolate for Jean, ja? Because she doesn’t like caffeine?”

Jean nodded and set the table as Lorna came in, glaring sourly at the floor as she fed the cat. Kurt made a mental note to get Lorna a latte.

Remy looked frazzled, though that might have been because he’d jumped out of the shower and tripped over a laundry basket. When he sat down to read the Dilbert comic, Rogue nudged him rather hard in the shoulder. “You’re gonna work like the rest of us, sugah. You’re on litterbox duty.”

Remy groaned; Rogue glared. “Or you can go figure out what wrong with the showers, if you want.”

Remy obliged. Bobby and Scott came in, Bobby chipper and Scott brooding. Surprising everyone, Bobby suddenly grabbed Lorna and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. Though shocked, she started to giggle, being cheered up more than a latte ever could. Bobby’s grin could have lit up half of New York.

“To a new us?” He whispered into her hair so only she could hear. She nodded and smiled.

For now, there was no silence. Lorna was happy that he had come back, happy that he wanted her back, and happy that he was being affectionate in a way Alex never had. She was surprised to realize she liked it that way, the little jokes and the playful, light-heartedness of it. For Bobby, he just wanted to be her Romeo for a while, no matter if it was forced or not.

“Well, if the two lovebirds can stop actin’ like we’re in high school, Ah think we can eat.” Rogue growled at them. They took the hint and sat down at the table. Rogue looked around. “Where’s Hank?”

Remy called out to them. “Shower’s workin’ again!” He sauntered into the room, fairly pleased with himself.

Rogue grumbled something about Hank having to do the catbox and took a seat. Jean could serve. She seemed eager to do it.

Sure enough, Jean did flit around like some chattering bird, serving and chatting at the same time. Hank thumped down the stairs and looked a bit disappointed that he had to “eliminate the feline’s excrements”.

“And just after my bathing, too!” He added.

Bobby poked at his hash. “Ummm…Rogue, what is this?”

In response, Rogue cracked her knuckles. Bobby wolfed the hash down.





“Hey, Jean?” Scott opened the door to see her lying on the couch, investigating a Nora Roberts novel and a small bowl of caramels. “Hey, do you want to go shopping later today? The kids need some food.”

Jean lolled and stretched. “You, shopping?”

Scott didn’t admit that he was feeling like he was getting paranoid. “Can’t a husband spend some time with his wife?”

“Yes, but shopping? You never shop.” Jean sat up and laid the book carefully on the table, making sure not to hurt its spine.

“Yeah, I know. Do you want to come?” Inside, he prayed that she said yes. He needed to get out of this house. He needed to stop feeling like she was tricking him, somehow.

Jean looked puzzled for a second, then smiled. “Sure, hon. As long as it’s not Home Depot or anything.”

Scott smiled too. He was going to spend time with his beloved Jean, and she was going to spend time with him. Alone. Without everyone else.

Jean nudged him playfully, suddenly the one calling the shots. “C’mon, but no hardware stores. You’re the only man I know who can spend three hours looking at kinds of boxes.”





While Rogue and Lorna had herded students out of the mansion to go play in the snow, some of the men were taking the time off. Kurt was hanging from the chandelier, watching Errol Flynn movies and nibbling on the remains of breakfast. Bobby had joined him halfway through, though he was mainly interested in the popcorn that he’d made. Hank read the New England Journal of Medicine, and Remy was looking over with great intent what appeared to be an encyclopedia.

Bobby, who felt certain that he’d made amends with his girl, was making every attempt to infuriate the other, not so lucky men. “So, Kurt, the Scarlet Bitch didn’t call back?” He asked, grinning ear to ear.

Kurt would not allow Bobby’s teasing to ruin his good mood. “No, Bobby, Wanda did not call back.”

“Well, it aint like German’s de most romantic of languages.” Remy said simply from the armchair in the corner.

“Oh, and French is?” Kurt replied, equally absentmindedly.

Hank had to intrude upon their conversation. “Actually, French is one of the Romance languages.”

“So dere!” The Cajun playfully stuck his tongue out at the German.

“Ach, Rogue’s really going to believe you are reading the encyclopedia upside down, Herr LeBeau.”

Hank muttered “Checkmate”, and Remy’s face turned red as he flipped the book over.

“So what exactly are you reading?” Bobby went over and peered over his shoulder. “Holy shit! Look at her rack!”

Remy’s face flushed even more furiously. Bobby sent him a look that was between admiration and pity, like looking upon a hero about to die. “Oh man, Rogue’s gonna kill you when she finds you reading the Victoria’s Secret catalogue!”

“I’m just shoppin’ for her.”

Bobby burst into laughter. Kurt shushed him, but chuckled under his breath. Hank snorted into his magazine.

Bobby slapped the end of the armchair. “Victoria’s Secret for Rogue?! Man, you are so bad!” Remy raised his eyebrows comically, sending Bobby into uncontrollable hiccups. Kurt and Hank laughed too, and the former circus performer flung part of a leftover sausage at the young man.

“Hey guys, you mind tellin’ me what’s so funny?” A certain white-striped belle was framed in the doorway. Remy quickly shut the book. The rest stopped laughing, but looked at her innocently. “No? Well, Remy, you wanna come for a walk then? Ah’m going to pick up the mail.”

Remy groaned. “Rogue, you know Remy hates-“

“But you never go outside in the winter! You’ve been holed up in here for a month!”

“Yeah, but-“

“Fine! You want to waste your time in here, that’s fine with me. Ah’m sure Kurt doesn’t have a problem with a bit of snow. Right?” Rogue turned her attention quickly, purposefully avoiding eye contact with her lover.

“Ja, if you want.” Kurt swung down and somersaulted in a flashy manner. Rogue gave a wry smile.

If it were possible, Remy would have sunk so deep into the armchair that he’d never be able to come out.





Hank was, for the third time that day, cleaning up his bathroom. He’d washed his hands after a particularly nasty experiment, and now the sink was clogged with azure fur. And of course, cleaning the sink meant getting to work on the rest of the room.

While Bellbottoms snuck about and played with the cuffs of his jeans, Hank was busy scrubbing the toilet, cleaning the mirror and re-hanging the shower curtains. He was surprised when Lorna came in, cheeks red, snowflakes caught in her hair. She was beaming.

He looked up at her. “Does this young woman need any assistance with anything?”

“Yeah. Hank, have you seen the hose?”

“The garden shed.” He replied simply. “What do you intend to use it for?”

Lorna grinned wickedly. “I’m gonna spray Bobby. He took snowballs a bit too far.” Just as she was about to leave, she turned. “Do you need help with that shower curtain?”

No, he didn’t, but cleaning the bathroom all alone was no fun. “If you would oblige to aid me.”

Today, despite a rough start, was looking as up as the now-hung curtain.

“So, you and Bobby have made amends?”

Lorna nodded, the idea of the garden hose entirely out of her mind. “Yeah. But he seems...a bit different. Like he was waiting for me to admit I’ve been a bitch.”

Hank nodded. He honestly didn’t know. He’d only been in love once, with that beautiful news reporter, and she’d never waited on anything from him. He’d been a pit-stop in her life, somewhere off in Arizona, maybe. Enjoyable, but temporary. And then off to God knows where, with postcards.

“That sounds really insane, doesn’t it? I mean, like a really bad movie where all they do is bitch about how sad they are or simper about how much they love one another?” She said, sitting on the toilet seat, picking at the stray threads in her scarf.

Hank turned to her, bulky mass belying his grace. The curtain waved slightly. “But you’re happy, right?”

“Yes! I mean, I guess.” If Hank hadn’t seen it before, in the faces of Jean, and of Rogue, and Scott, and Remy and Kurt, he would have been puzzled by the expression in her eyes. But he had seen it before, probably in his own eyes after Trish’s pit-stop in Arizona.

Sifting through the ashes looking for embers was just as hard as putting them out. Lorna still ached for Alex, still loved him. And Bobby loved her, but sometimes love wasn’t enough to make everything better.

Lorna needed time to heal. She wanted to please Bobby, and he wanted to please her, and in the end they were both forcing it so they could both believe it. They needed some time.

When Lorna left, Hank sat down on the couch where the Discovery Channel was giving a documentary on premature child birth. Bellbottoms sat in his lap, vaguely interested by the squealing babies on the screen. The sound of Bobby’s yelps as he was hit by freezing water emanated from outside.





Kurt always was easier to talk to. He never ridiculed, never insulted, just listened and sometimes offered advice. Not the cheap, three dollar advice like “You need some time” and “Just talk it over”, but the real, deep advice that actually made a difference. Because sometimes time was a fickle doctor and sometimes talk was the enemy.

“He never goes outside in the winter anymore.” Rogue said solemnly, kicking a rock in front of her. “It’s like he’s afraid of it.”

Kurt breathed out, eyes tracing the steam as it swirled away. “He has good reason to.”

“But he’s takin’ it to a whole new level! He’ll sleep with at least four blankets on, and it’s just crazy, watchin’ him stare out the window and knowing he’s too damn afraid to go out. Ah thought we were over Antarctica years ago.”

“Rogue, I don’t think it has anything to do with whether you two are over it or not.” Kurt buried his hands deeper in his pockets.

“What’re you sayin’? That Ah scarred him for life?” She irately kicked the mailbox post, then walked past it.

“I thought we were just going to get the mail.” He asked quietly.

“Just a bit further. Ah want to show you somethin’.” The sounds of Bobby and Lorna pelting each other with snowballs rang throughout the air. Rogue walked on, grey coat blended in with the trees and the shadows, white streak lost in the blinding light of the snow. Kurt followed, his dark skin contrast against the brilliance. It was as if he was sucking the light out of the space he occupied. “All this time, and Ah keep thinkin’ he’s just like a cancer patient. Somethin’s wrong and Ah can’t stop it.”

“It must bring back unpleasant memories, the cold.” Kurt looked up, where the sky was a mirror of grey and white.

“Ah know that, but it’s just crazy. He’s missin’ so much. Like this.” Rogue grabbed her brother’s sleeve and dragged him off the path, through trees and snow as deep as his ankles.

Kurt complained playfully. “Mein schwester, I find nothing spectacular about getting my pants soaked.”

“No, this!” She pulled him out into a clearing. A small creek, half-frozen, trickled through the middle. The sun beat down through a small part in the clouds, in between the trees and onto them. For all the world to have, there were diamonds in the snow, catching the light and sending it back. “Kurt, isn’t it beautiful?”

Kurt looked around in wonder. Maybe it was his sister’s enthusiasm that made it so heavenly, but most likely it was the place itself. He felt guilty, messing up the snow with his big clunky feet. “Ja, it’s beautiful.” He said, eyes wide as a small bird fluttered away from the branch above him.

“And he’s never gonna see it, because by summer it’s a big puddle of mud!” Rogue said suddenly, startling the birds.

Kurt looked at her, at the tears that bit the corners of her eyes. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t her fault, because it partially was, nor could he tell her that it would fade with time, because he wasn’t sure of that. “He’s not sick, Rogue. Winter’s just a bad time for him.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t necessarily truth.

“Ah know, but why the hell won’t he even try?” Rogue swayed a little, biting her lip.

Kurt had no words for this. It was probably better that way. Rogue leaned onto his shoulder.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m rather cold out here.” Kurt said softly. Rogue looked up at him. Without another word, they left the clearing.





Xavier had probably had some strange idea when he said that they should have a game night every week. Maybe he thought of it as a bonding exercise.

As it was, the rules were very lenient. Every time a different game, no cheating, everyone participated. Tonight, the game of choice was Scrabble. Everyone groaned when Kurt brought in the box and glared pointedly at Hank.

“What, can I help it if I excel in the lingual arts?” He smirked, setting up the board.

“Fine, but we get to be in teams of two against you. Kurt already said he wasn’t playin’, but can you keep score, sugah?” Rogue beckoned to her foster brother. He nodded.

Remy pulled Rogue’s chair out for her. “Remy has his partner, right, chere?”

Rogue smiled. Scott teamed up with his wife and Lorna and Bobby became the other group. Lorna laid down the rules. “You,” She pointed to Remy “No French. Anything we can’t find in the English dictionary doesn’t count. Other than that, regular rules. No using double and triple scores twice, and if you add onto a word it counts for the whole thing.”

Scott and Jean were to go first, laying down the word SALAD. Both looked fairly pleased, and Bobby reassured himself that it was only luck.

Hank’s ‘only luck’ gave him the word CATALYST as his opener. From that point on, the game became very lopsided. Hank had words like BELEMNOID and ASPARTAME. Bobby and Lorna’s greatest success was PUP.

Tempers started heating up halfway through, when the score was a nice one-forty-three to twelve, fourteen and twenty-one.

It was quickly proved that Remy’s lack of education expanded further than basic grammar. He did, however, have an eye for putting letters together.

“Ha! Bourgeois!” He yelled as he arranged the letters, nice and neat, in their little boxes.

“That’s not fair! That’s not an English word!” Lorna exclaimed. Not that it really mattered, since she and Bobby were at rock-bottom anyway.

Rogue grabbed the Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary. “Look, right here!”

“Damn.” There it was for Lorna, in plain letters. Bourgeois, noun. Street rabble. French derivative.

Hank tried to keep from bursting into triumphant laughter. “May I expand upon that word?”

Bourgeoisie. Plural form of bourgeois. Kurt chalked up further points for Hank.

“Dat’s it, Remy’s no good at word games.” Remy stood and stalked out of the room. Rogue looked as if to follow him, but realized it would be futile.

Bobby yawned. “Isn’t that how these games always end? Someone gets mad and leaves the table?”

Lorna threw her letters in. “If I remember correctly, that was you last time when we played Risk and Kurt stormed Ukraine.”

“Yeah, well, I had about three men left anyway. And he had thirty-four.” Bobby defended himself.

Rogue rolled her eyes. “That was only after you started making your soldiers walk across the board singin’.” She picked up the letter T and started walking it across the table, voice suddenly high-pitched. “All worship Lord Bobby! He is our king! Wheeee!”

It was a surprisingly good imitation, and everyone but Bobby laughed. “You just don’t appreciate good humor.”

“Hank wins.” Kurt said simply. He flipped the chalk between his tail and hands. Hank took a bow while everyone clapped half-heartedly and threw their letters into the box.

They all went that separate ways for the night, Lorna and Bobby heading for one room, Scott and Jean for another, Hank back to the lab, Kurt to his room and Rogue to hers.

“I swear, Hank, you practically live in the lab.” Jean had said playfully, leaning into Scott. Then, she was curled deep inside the covers, body warm against her husband’s. He smelled the tropical shampoo she had used that morning. He never told her about how that shampoo reeked, but what the hell. She could have her special shampoos.

Rogue came into her room, and was met with the pleasant surprise of Remy crashed out on the bed with only one blanket. He looked an awkward sight, with his feet a bit over the edge and his face buried into a pillow. Softly, she slunk into her own bed and shut off the light.

Down the hall, Kurt was sitting at the edge of his bed, reading an old pirate novel. Further down, Hank was busy working on decoding the genome of a bacteria. Lorna and Bobby were sleeping soundly, one on the couch and one on the small bed.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Feb 10, 2004 7:45 pm

this story made me laugh and cry at the same time..

I was kinda waiting for a joke about Germans and storming countries with the Risk thing...it made me laugh thinking of it...

MORE MORE MORE! please?
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Tue Mar 09, 2004 6:38 pm

Hank’s Interlude - Statements and Reasons





Author’s Note: I apologize immensely for the long delay. I had the schedule from Hell (test, projects, math competition and drama performances). Truly, I’ll be picking up the loose ends and working hard on this and a few other projects now that that’s out of the way. Now go on, imagine Hank as Pepto Bismol pink.





“Hell will, and always will, involve blow-drying blue fur.” ~Hank McCoy





Of anything you can study in a textbook or learn in a classroom or laboratory, there remains one area that science has yet to understand - the human mind.

You think I’d learn, eventually, that people are irrational and never act according to reason. You think little ol’ Hank would figure out just why we act the way we do.

Unfortunately, I have enough trouble understanding why I do the things I do, much less anyone else.

Remy’s mad at me. I took his victory away from him at the last minute. He’ll get over it; he always does. But it doesn’t shake that nagging feeling that I’ve ostracized myself even further from them all.

The outcast among outcasts among outcasts. Perfect.

It’s hard enough being Homo Superior in this backwards world, harder being one of the two ‘fuzzy blues’.

Looking in the mirror, I suppose there could be worse colors. I could have ended up - God forbid - some awful shade of Pepto Bismol pink or neon yellow.

Then again, at least I wouldn’t get called a Smurf. But there are definitely far worse colors.

I used to walk down the halls, blue, and even a blind and deaf man could have heard the whispers and seen the odd looks. Technically, a blind and deaf man couldn’t, but it’s an expression, another exaggeration of the English language.

Eventually, through time, the whispers quieted and then stopped. The odd looks became smiles and winks and other friendly gestures. But still, it felt like the singular memory was far more separating than a bulky azure coat could ever be.

For some as-of-yet unknown reason, I feel that odd urge to show off constantly. I imagine it must be slightly irritating. Undoubtedly if I were to take time off and examine some of my characteristics, I’d find it all a bid for acceptance.

A bid for acceptance. Isn’t that what human nature is anyway?

You know the thermostat needs to be turned up when the furry guy gets cold walking down the halls. Or maybe that’s just Bobby’s room.

The other fuzzy blue is down in the Danger Room. I could swear that he never sleeps. Maybe his constant attempts at physical perfection, athletic perfection, are all just one of those infamous bids for acceptance.

He must know that we are currently on our vacation leave, but he’s probably the most diligent of us all. He isn’t going to let his body go to waste. I figure I will not either.

“Guten nacht.” Kurt’s tail sways lazily when I enter. I don’t think he’ll mind if I exercise with him.

“May I join you, Fuzzy Blue?” I ask politely.

He beams. “Of course.”

For hours we just practice, strengthen ourselves. Quite honestly, when one sweats in fur, it gets very uncomfortable.

Eventually we shut off the simulation. I feel a swell of pride that my instruments were so successful. I almost say something, then decide against it. There’s a pile of towels in the locker room. We both grab some. A few get knocked over, but we both concede that we’re way too lazy to pick them up.

“Ach, I could practically wring my tail out!” He laughs and jokes. I suppose that’s his answer to being different, much like my interest in the arts and knowledge.

I guess every creature has to sleep, and Kurt does too. He yawns loudly. “I guess the Incredible Nightcrawler will be changing his name to Incredible Sleepwalker, no?”

After giving him a hearty pat on the back, we go our separate ways. I’m going to actually sleep in a bedroom tonight, not lose consciousness on the computer keyboard. I’m getting tired of waking up every day with a nasty case of qwertytis.

Upon going to sleep, I wonder if all our little quirks are attempts to be brought into the fold.

I started sleeping in the lab when Trish left; apparently she couldn’t stand a blue, furry boyfriend. The numbers and patterns and sentences on the screen started to mesmerize me once she was gone. I guess knowledge wasn’t a bid for acceptance, just a replacement for what I couldn’t have. It’s not a bad-suited replacement either; I rarely think of her anymore. And when I do, I don’t obsess about it. Not like I obsess over genomes and literature and Greek history.

Just maybe, love is dangerous when it doesn’t end. It was probably better that we went our separate ways. There’s an old myth about the Roman Emperor Heliogabalus, that he suffocated his drunken guests in over a ton of falling rose petals.

Call me crazy, but Hank McCoy is never going to drown beneath rose petals. I’m part of something greater now, a family and a home, but never so cloying and deep that it would interfere with my life and send me into a monotonous pattern. Hello, goodbye, I’m sorry, hello, goodbye, I’m sorry.

No, I’m never going to let life stick me as a cliché. Hank McCoy is not a cliché.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Wed Mar 10, 2004 3:52 am

awww this was a good chapter too! I wants to give Hank a hug!
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

CurlyyHairGirl
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1503
Joined: Sat Dec 13, 2003 4:52 pm
Location: San Jose State University

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by CurlyyHairGirl » Fri Mar 12, 2004 12:26 am

I LOVE IT:love such a good story. Hank deserves a trip to a world class spa, Kurt too!
one name: Bruce Campbell

SheCat
Swashbuckler
Swashbuckler
Posts: 1514
Joined: Wed Aug 06, 2003 5:12 pm
Location: Watching over Ty.
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by SheCat » Mon Apr 19, 2004 6:05 pm

Chapter Seven - Broken Chains


Author’s Note: My apologies. I’ve been out of it for a while, and as a result I haven’t really done any writing. I’m very sorry.




Kurt’s Observations: “When you have a tail, it’s a good idea to watch out for doors.”





“Oh my God!”

Bobby jolted off the couch as Lorna shrieked. “What happened? We under attack?” His combat training instinctively put him in a boxing position.

Trying to regain her wits, Lorna breathed deeply. “Fucking bed!”

“What did they do to the bed?” He looked around confusedly. Blinking against the darkness, he stumbled for the light switch.

“No, the damn bed fell in on me.” The light revealed a very irate Lorna, sitting on the mattress, which was now resting on the floor. She blushed. She, Magneto’s daughter, was supposed to be used to sudden shocks. Instead, a shaky bed had scared her half to death, in front of her boyfriend. “Goddammit!”

Bobby rubbed his eyes and checked the clock. Middle of the night. Perfect. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just spooked.”

“Is everything alright in there?” Scott’s baritone came from behind the door. He didn’t open it; he respected their privacy. If neither answered, then he’d break down the door.

Bobby sat down on the mattress. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“You scared the shit out of us, Drake.”

The disapproving note in his voice was not lost on either of them. “We’re fine, Scott.” Lorna confirmed. “It was just the bed.”

“The bed screamed?” A Southern drawl asked skeptically.

“No, the bed fell in.” Bobby put an arm around Lorna’s shoulder protectively, though he himself didn’t know why. She leaned into him.

Rogue continued. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Yes, Rogue, we know we scared the hell out of you guys. We’re sorry already.”

Masked by the door, Rogue grumbled. “You better be. You woke me up.”

“C’mon, Rogue.” Scott took her hand - gloved, of course - and led her down the hall.

“Ah don’t need to be mollycoddled, O Fearless.” She growled at him. She was not a night person. “It’s not like mah room is more than twenty feet away.”

She yanked her hand from his grasp and retreated to her room. Scott ignored her behavior and returned to his bed, where Jean was trying to go back to sleep. The redhead scooted to her side of the bed for her husband.

What, now they had different sides of the bed? Scott slumped down and threw the covers onto himself. Pouting playfully, Jean stole the blanket and wrapped herself up in it. Scott scowled, but it was in jest.

No, he could never be mad at Jean. She batted her eyelashes and rolled over. Scott smiled behind her back.





“You wanna…?”

Lorna looked at him curiously. “Sleep together?”

Bobby flushed red. “On the couch in a clean way, I mean.”

“Oh.” Lorna patted the mattress casually. “Good, because the damn bed busted my ass.”

He grinned and twirled a lock of forest hair around his finger. She slapped his hand. “Stop that!”

“So are we just gonna stay up talking all night? We’ll be zombies by morning.”

“Either zombies or stiff as boards. Your feet are like skis.” Lorna smirked and flopped down on the couch. “And I would know.”

He looked down at her. She looked so childlike, so young and innocent. Her eyes gazed affectionately at him. “You gonna move your legs or am I going to have to sleep on top of them?”

“Your ugly butt? You’d break them.” She tucked her legs beneath her. He sat down delicately.

Within the hour, Lorna was splayed peacefully across the edge of the couch. The armrest that had functioned as a pillow had seemingly migrated to her waist. Her hair brushed the floor softly. Bobby had curled up at the other end, avoiding her prodding toes. He’d swiped all the covers from her, but she didn’t notice.

Bobby felt guilty about the bed. He thought he’d fixed it last time. He knew he’d be working at it again tomorrow. The idea of it falling out from under her again scared him. The idea of breaking her next time scared him.





Remy woke up to a nasty combination of his alarm clock and a sound he recognized only as Hank singing opera in the shower. Even worse, he slammed his hand into the corner of the nightstand instead of the clock. Cursing, he sat up and knocked the offending item off the table.

He groaned. Hank was butchering some poor, innocent song. And where was Rogue? Rubbing his hand, he looked around the room, then at the clock on the floor. Almost noon. Had he really slept that late?

A quick shower helped him regain his senses. He sauntered downstairs, trying to appear as if he’d been up all morning. It was a vain attempt, since Jean shot him a chastising glare.

“Jean, chere, what’s for breakfast?” He asked as charmingly as possible.

“You missed it.” She smirked at the downfallen look on his face. “And it was nice, spicy chicken wings too.”

She continued as he looked more and more dejected. “They were so good. Scott and Hank just wolfed them down. Rogue said they were the best she ever tasted.”

“Even better den mine?” He asked sadly.

“I’m afraid so.” Jean turned to the cabinet so he couldn’t see her holding back laughter.

“Wait, you didn’ have chicken wings for breakfast.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’d smell ‘em!”

Jean laughed. “You’re right, you just missed oatmeal.” She swept into the pantry and threw a box of graham crackers out at him. “Honestly, who eats chicken wings for breakfast?”

Remy wrinkled his nose at the box. “Remy used to.”

Jean quirked her eyebrows and opened a window. “It’s nice out today.” She stated simply. “Very nice out. Not even that cold.”

“Please, chere, don’t try no psychotherapy on me.” Remy looked at her with an expression between imploring and suspicion. Jean sighed and slammed the window a bit harder than she’d intended.

“Sorry.” She sat down next to him. “It’s just that you and Rogue-“

Remy glared. “Not your affair, petite.”

“-You’ve been making her nervous.” She finished softly. He looked away and started ripping open the graham cracker box. “She thinks something might be wrong.”

“Cracker?” He passed one over his shoulder and glanced apologetically at her. “Dey’re cinnamon.”

Jean grabbed the cracker and crushed it in her fist. “Aren’t you listening to a damn word I’m saying?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Rogue talk to you about this?”

Jean indicated to her head. “I don’t intentionally sneak into people’s heads, but sometimes they give off such strong thoughts…”

“Then don’ try to go sneakin’ about in our business either. Really, Jean, Remy’s fine.” Despite the accusing note in his voice, he tried to say it as politely and reassuringly as he could.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Just remember that we’re here for you.”

He held back the urge to shoot a sarcastic comment back. Then again, if she could pick up thoughts like she said, she could tell anyway.

“Merci, Jean.” He placed his hand on hers for a second, then stood up. She knew he wasn’t really thanking her, just looking for an excuse out of the uncomfortable situation.

“I’ll make some coffee.”

He walked out. “Nah, thanks, but I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.” Jean grabbed a magazine and sat, legs daintily crossed, at the table. She wasn’t actually reading it. She was thinking over the words that had gone unspoken, unheard, unwritten in the previous conversation. They still hung in the air like dust motes, visible but intangible. If they were always there for him, where had they been during the single time that he’d needed them most?





Lorna woke up with her lips at veritable war. Cold sores and cankers had sprung up at the corners of her mouth. Running her fingers over her aching lower lip, she walked over to the bathroom for some much needed antibiotics.

From the crack down the center, she’d been picking them again, though she was damned if she could recall any exact instant. That was unusual. Normally she only picked at them during times of extreme stress. It brought her temporary, subconscious relief to cleanse and tear, to feel the blood running just beneath the pink surface. After Genosha, she’d torn at them with a vengeance. After learning the infamous Magneto was her father, she’d been in pleasurable agony for weeks. And after Alex had…she didn’t want to think about Alex, but she’d nearly ripped herself a new mouth.

But nothing extreme had happened. So why were they in such a bad state?

She looked back at the couch, where Bobby was snoring. Was it him? Secretly, she harbored a slight resent that he might possibly have caused this pain. She knew it wasn’t his fault; it was just her nerves, her problems, her imperfections.

Her flaws. She didn’t want to think about them.

She reminded herself that snoring wasn’t incredibly endearing either.





Since when did people put a price on faith?

If there was anything that irritated Kurt, it was the Christian Self-Help section of the local bookstore. Handbooks titled “The Answers” and “Is Your Prayer the Right Prayer?” were organized neatly, aligned in all their scamming glory. Most cost more than a dictionary, and they were about the size of a Reader’s Digest. He half-expected them to goose-step across the table, ordering him to change his type of worship and ‘search for his deeper self’, whatever that meant.

“Find anything?” Scott asked, pawing through a book of motorcycle know-how.

“Nein.” Kurt said, nervously tapping his inducer-watch. Being in this large, crowded place made him instinctively anxious. “And you?”

Scott put his book down and grabbed another. “Nah.”

Kurt leaned against the table and cast a few glances around. Despite the swirling mass of shoppers, he still could pinpoint his friends. Rogue was sitting on the floor, holding a group of romance novels hostage. Lorna and Bobby were paying more attention to irritating the cashier than to the small stack of merchandise they were purchasing. Hank was pouring over the pages of a book whose name Kurt couldn’t even pronounce.

“Why does she always have to get them the instant they come out? Can’t she wait for paperback?” Scott moaned as he looked at the books he’d gotten for his wife. “Jeez, why does she want this one?”

The German shrugged. “Should we go?” He wasn’t comfortable being surrounded by so many people. Any second now his inducer might go off, and then God only knew what could follow.

Scott nodded. He didn’t want any more little children pointing out his sunglasses. “I’ll go get the two lovebirds and Hank. You get Rogue.”

Rogue had seemingly immersed herself in number of novels simultaneously. Whether she was reading, skimming or just turning pages for the hell of it was beyond Kurt.

“Rogue? We’re going.” Kurt crouched down and looked at some of the books.

“’Kay, Ah’m comin’.” She mumbled and shoved the books back onto the shelf haphazardly. He saw a flash of “Gone With the Wind” being tossed into the pile.

She looked over at Lorna and Bobby, faces bright like they were in high school. “Ah’ll bet you ten bucks they don’t last another week.”

Kurt looked at her in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “Just a hunch.”





Thanking God for SUV’s, Scott clambered into the driver’s seat. At least the three rows kept them reasonably parted, and if he had any more of Lorna and Bobby clamping to each other like limpets he’d feel nauseous. Had he really been that bad when he was flirting with Jean? Bobby had irately pointed that out earlier.

“Why aren’t you like that anymore?” Lorna had said accusingly. Scott hadn’t had an answer. He didn’t know himself. He couldn’t answer why his precious, redheaded darling wasn’t the center of his life anymore.

Nor could he answer when she had stopped being his every other thought. Sometime, but he couldn’t pinpoint an exact day or even year.

Rogue was busy chatting to Lorna about the latest movies (none of which Scott had seen or even intended to see). The two fuzzy blues were involved in a playful debate of which was better, claws or a tail. Bobby was simultaneously trying to sneak his hand over to Lorna’s rear end and open a CD case at the same time.

Rogue blew his cover. “Face it, Bobby, men can’t multi-task.”

Kurt rooted through one of their grocery bags. “The clerk, he didn’t think it odd that we bought eight bottles of shampoo?”

“Nah.” Bobby said nonchalantly, his hand barely an inch from Lorna’s behind. “Just tell them your roommate has a teenage daughter.”

At that moment, Lorna shrieked and slapped the intrusive appendage. Bobby recoiled and rubbed life back into his stinging hand. She glared.

Scott had looked back to see what the racket was about. He glared at Drake too. Nobody was supposed to do that to a lady. He’d never do that to Jean. When was the last time he’d done anything even close to that to Jean?

Midlife crisis. That had to be it. He’d get over it. He still loved her, devoted himself to her, worshipped her in her divine grace and beauty. There was just glass between them for the while.

He’d talk to her.





“We make a good team.” Remy leaned back in his chair, surveying their work. Rolls, chicken, artichokes and soup, enough for the entire group and then some. Wouldn’t they be happy when they found that dinner had already been made? Especially Rogue. Roguie would be glad he hadn’t wasted the day.

“Saves them a load of trouble. Stick it in the oven.” His ‘partner in crime’, Jean, wiped flour from her hands. “You wouldn’t mind if I skipped dinner, would you?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Por quoi?”

A mischievous glint came into her eyes, but it was only masking a bit lip. “I think Scotty and I will just take it up to our room. Have some fun, you know?” She lied.

“It’ll be awful. You’ll miss playing Trivial Pursuit with Hank.” He remarked wryly, placing the concoctions in the oven. A friendly crinkle emerged between her eyebrows as she laughed. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway reached their ears.

“And God knows that will be fascinating.” She grinned. In another room, a door opened.

“Hey y’all, we’re home!” Rogue called and walked in, a plastic bag with eight shampoo bottles slung over her shoulder. “You didn’t miss us too much, did y- do Ah smell somethin’?”

The rest filed in, parcels and packages abundant, and sniffed the air. The scent of food was unmistakable. Kurt looked about curiously. “Did you two make something?”

“We were going to say surprise, but you figured it out first.” Jean shrugged and pulled dinner out of the oven. Hank visibly licked his lips and Rogue’s eyes lit up like a city block on a power surge. The rest all smiled and spread thanks to their two ‘chefs’.

Rogue took control. “Instead o’ standin’ here, why don’t we actually eat it? Wash your hands, y’all!”

A matter of minutes later they were all getting seated around the table, though Rogue used a wet towel as a whip to keep Remy from swiping food early.

“But, chere, Remy made it, doesn’t he get to eat it?”

Scott was about to sit down when Jean grabbed him by shoulder. He looked at her in surprise. Telepathically filling him in, she led him upstairs, carrying some of the food with her.

“Ah’ll give you this, lover-boy, you know how t’ surprise a girl.” Rogue grinned.

“Yeah, Rogue was betting that you’d still be asleep!” Lorna called.

Kurt lay his fork down. “Grace, everybody.” Though less than half of the room was Christian, the bowed their heads and closed their eyes. As usual, Kurt started them off. Thanks for the food, thanks for friends and family, the usual.

One eye open, Remy watched quietly. Family? Next to him, Rogue fidgeted. He figured that she qualified as more than that.





“Scott…” Jean sighed as she sat cross-legged on the bed. He stood at the closed door, hand still on the knob. “Scott, lately…”

“Must be a winter thing, huh?” His shoulders hung.

“Lately you and I have been distant.” She concluded, putting a plate on the nightstand.

Scott sighed this time. “Yeah.”

Jean’s eyes seemed to burn a hold right through him and the door beyond. “Can you tell me why?”

He twitched his finger nervously. “Why don’t you just reach into my head-“

“I don’t want to-“

“-And just listen for a bit, Jean?”

The slight tickle behind his ears told him she had obliged.

A tear started to form in her deep green eye. She bit her lip, and the crinkle from laughter came, but not out of mirth. “You know I would never do that.”

Scott shuddered. He couldn’t help thinking it; just the memory of her flirting with Logan, the thoughts of her separating herself, the very idea that she wasn’t a possession of his - it shook his very foundation.

She continued. “You honestly think I would be like that?” Her cheeks flushed to the softest rose hue.

He turned slowly, to see her sitting on the bed, fighting tears, bathed in the lamp light. So emotional. So much deeper than he was. “Jean, it’s just that I…you’re so perfect and I…Goddammit, I…”

“You think you aren’t worthy? How can you say that, Scotty? How can you even think for a second that you aren’t enough?”

He didn’t show any feeling besides the light tremble of his lip. “Jean, you could have anyone you ever wanted! Why did you choose a-“

“What Logan calls you doesn’t mean anything.” She said softly. The tear glazed her eye, but didn’t fall. She had more control than that.

Scott moaned. He was crazy, that was what she was telling him. Psychiatrists probably had some psycho-babble that described, “inferiority complex” or something to that effect. Strange, he though he’d been the sane one on the team.

“Jean.” He whispered, crawling onto the bed. “Jean, you mean you never-“

“Only you, Scotty.” She whispered back. “Only you.”

She was driving him crazy and she was making him sane. “It’s been a while, then?”

She laughed quietly and wiped her eyes. “You men are so horny.” She lay down beside him. “You think it’s going to be all better then? That I can forgive you for even thinking that about me?”

He didn’t know her at all. He had to admit that. He shook his head in defeat.

“It’s a start.” She soothed and played with the buttons on his collar until each one was undone. His hand roved to her blouse, and she accepted his invitation. A motion turned the lamp off, and the room receded into slick darkness.

Her fingers played unheard music across his jaw line, along his cheeks, his neck, his chest. His hands explored the forgotten territories of her shoulders, her hips, her waist and her perfect breasts. In the dark, two flowers bloomed, open and receiving to each other.

The sweat was almost sickeningly sweet, but still a nectar of the gods. Smiling in the dark, where nobody saw and nobody told, they met. Both sacred, hidden, forgotten, locked with their respective keys. But she had opened the gates and let him in again.





Later, on their entwined hands, two bands of gold glistened. They shone brightly, no longer obligations or responsibilities, but symbiotic partners.





Bobby wasn’t sure why he even bothered anymore. He should have just gotten up and left when the words left her lips.

Her sleeping, though, was too innocent to condemn. She hadn’t meant the words she’d said. She had no idea she’d even said them.

So he stayed, her head resting quietly on his chest, her hand pressed against his heart as if in any second she could plunge her nails into it. Her delicate body lay on top of him. Her weight didn’t even bother him. It was that on every other exhalation, he could have sworn he heard a name.

Why didn’t he just leave? Why did every second she was thinking of Alex seem like it triggered these awful thoughts about her, about that bastard, about himself?

He should have just slept on the goddamn bed, broken or not. Then he wouldn’t be hearing her whisper names out to the secretive night. He wouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place.

Next time he had the chance, he’d ask Hank for some sleeping drugs.

“Alex…” She moaned softly, yet unmistakably. He grimaced. And for a few days he’d thought he’d had it good, hadn’t he?

For a few blissfully ignorant days, he’d had it good.





Steinbeck. Guaranteed tearjerker. “Of Mice and Men” especially.

Remy didn’t complain. Rogue certainly didn’t want to watch anything with hula-dancing, grass-skirted blonde pygmy ninjas, and he’d have to be tied to a chair with his eyelids glued open to sit through “Gone With the Wind”. At the end, they’d chosen randomly.

She had curled up against his arm, occasionally commenting on the film. His eyelids fluttered with drowsiness. She was far more interested than he was. Hadn’t they seen this movie last week?

He did, however, pay special attention to her. Her butterfly breaths tickled the edge of his sleeve. When she spoke, her eyebrows usually raised just a little. She was beautiful. Had he been able, he’d take her face, cup it lovingly in his hands, and give her a kiss to end all kisses.

Alas, it was not so. He put a protective arm around her as the end approached. Though he was eagerly waiting for the movie to be over, he was never immune to the ending.

She almost giggled. Ever since she’d made that comment about how handsome Gary Sinise looked, he’d been inching closer and closer to her, almost possessively. It made her feel warmer inside, but she’d never admit it to him. Half the fun was keeping him guessing.

Watching the ending, her tears began to roll. There was no shame in admitting weakness about a movie, especially such a heartbreaking one. She could have sworn she heard him sniff, and he moved his hand up to his face and wiped his eyes.

When it was over and credits began to roll, they went up to bed. As was usual, Remy piled the blankets on top of himself and burrowed beneath them. Rogue sat on top of hers, looking out the window. A single star - the north one, she figured - was glittering. Stars didn’t feel pain, did they? Then why did everyone look up to them? Because they didn’t?

Wish she may, wish she might. She wished he could get over his fear of the cold. She wished it hadn’t been her doing. She wished she wasn’t the guilty one anymore. She wished she could take him out there and share the winter with him.

She sighed. She must have been wishing on the wrong star.
"I throw de cards, de cards go BOOM! End of bad guy, end of story." -Gambit, X-Treme
"Everything I still want I just now prayed for." -Kreon, Antigone :cry
Viceroy of the Black Tom Appreciation Society
"You act like I know what day of the week it is." ~Patchy
From the Strange and Twisted Mind of Emmy-Jay / Enter the Patchverse...:respectgambit

User avatar
Lauren
Navigator
Navigator
Posts: 1452
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2003 7:07 pm
Location: Nightcrawler's bedroom *shhh!*
Contact:

Heaven Leaves Shadows (Chapters 1 through 8)

Post by Lauren » Tue Apr 20, 2004 9:54 am

aww *huggles Remy* it's ok...I cry at the end of that movie too!:bawl
"I am known as Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gombigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre Andri Charton-Haymoss Ivanovici Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser III. Don't hesitate to call." -Vash the Stampede


"No, you see I'm blind in my right eye now... So boring. You know what really makes me pissy? Grunge, Heroine chic, and dying are over. I so hate being behind the curve. Tourism's up." Brett(Alan Cumming) from Urbania

Post Reply