1Make Me A Sandwich
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evolution.
Emphasis or Lyrics
Rogue squirmed under Remy's gaze, "Err..." She turned her head to focus elsewhere. Her hands settled into her lap and she began to twiddle her thumbs.
"Come on chere," he said, "y' got t' have something better den dat."
The girl sharply turned her head to gaze at the male in front of her. Her eyes thinned into a glare, "Ah said to make meh a sandwich, so make me a damn sandwich, Gambit." She scowled.
"Are y' sure?" an eyebrow rose on the cajun's face, "Not'ing else?"
Rogue rolled her eyes, "Nothin' else, ya cajun pervert."
Remy lifted his arms in defeat, "Fine chere, y' got one strange-workin' mind." He shook his head and walked toward the chrome refrigerator. Opening the door, he took out a bag of multi-grain bread and set it on the counter behind him. Remy turned back to retrieve white cheese, honey ham, and mayo. He took out a plate and a knife and began making the requested sandwich.
Rogue reclined in her seat, propping her feet onto the table and crossed her arms. She mentally scoffed at the the Cajun making her the ham and cheese sandwich. She didn't like the predicament they had come across, but atleast she was on top. She knew Remy wished it was the other way around, no doubt. Who knows what that hormone-contolled brain of his was dreaming up. Remy Lebeau was know for thinking with his second head.
Dammit. She knew she shouldn't have agreed to play truth or dare with the rest of the girls. Group activities always sucked. Especially when you get blackmailed. Her eye twitched at the memory. Remy was dared to be her slave for two months. He didn't seem to have any problems. He almost looked satisfied. But Rogue wasn't so happy. In fact she started to shout and sputter curses at the smug cajun. She didn't have to agree after all. She wasn't the one who was dared. She did not want to be stuck with the flirty swamp rat for two months, constantly barraged by wolf whistles and endless innuendos.
She refused adamantly until Kitty came up to her and whispered in her ear. She had a piece of blackmail and threatened to tell Gambit if Rogue didn't agree. There was no way Remty Lebeau was gonna know about her midnight skinny dipping escapade. She'd never live it down. So reluctantly she surrendered. And she was know. Ordering Remy to make her a sandwich.
She propped her head on the table with her hand and watched Remy put together the sandwich. He was wear the damn trench coat again. How long had he kept that trench coat? He wore it day and night, even over his X-Men uniform. She deadpanned. What did he think his trench coat was? A cape. Rogue rolled her eyes. One day that thing was going to be the end of him. Underneath his trench coat he was wearing a pair of denim jeans and an Invader Zim T-shirt -- atleast he knew his cartoons. Strangely enough he also had his gloves on. He'd have to ask him why the thumb, the index finger and the pinky were cut off of his gloves.
Remy "Gambit" Lebeau spread mayo onto the ham. The dare was a complete waste of time, he thought. Rogue didn't want he to do anything to her, and she didn't want to do anything to him. Atleast anything other then mundane tasks. Nothing a regular girl would want from him. The southern gal didn't even want homework help. He glanced at Rogue. He was sure Rogue was... fully developed. And had experienced puberty. His eyes raked over her figure. But she didn't seem to have the hormone-driven mind teens their age was reknown for.
"Done." Remy waved the sandwich in the air in front of Rogue.
Rogue turned her head, snapping out of her thoughts. "Right, thanks sugah."
Remy's eyebrow arched up. Sugar huh? Rogue recently picked up the name and began to use it frequently. Not that she stopped calling him swamp rat of bayou boy. "Y' welcome chere."
Rogue hastily snatched the sandwich from his hands. She sunk her teeth into the ham and cheese and got up. She made her way towards the staircase. Remy close behind. At the bottom fo the stairs Rogue paused and spun around. She scowled again, "What the hell are yah doin'? You bettah not be followin' me."
"Didn' y' her y' ami, Kitty? Remy be y' slave fo' two months," a wicked grin settled onto Remy's face.
Rogue sent her patented Death Glare at the smug male, "That don't mean we're siamese twins, swamp rat. Y' only have ta listen ta what Ah say. And Ah'm tellin' ya to get."
"Tha's fine wit Remy, petit'. " He smiled and sauntered up the stairs behind here.
"Fahne! Ah could care less. Jus' leave meh alone!" Rogue stalked to her room.
Remy chuckled, "Remy'll jus' be goin' to his room den." He didn't know what made Rogue so addictive. She just was. He couldn't get enough of her. Not that he minded, an addiction to her wasn't so bad.
He leaned against the banister, tipping his head to the side and watched Rogue's hips swing side to side. Mmmm. Delicious.
AN: Hee. I'm in the process of reviving this fic. Which includes revising. But I don't think I'm up for updating any other fic, so this'll have to do. xD But have fun. And review please! Maybe I won't abandon my fics as quickly as I usually do.