Disclaimer: If the X-Men were mine... Sorry, I was off drooling in a fantasy world again... what was the question?
AN: In an attempt to get back into writing chapters and churning out the good stuff, I humbly submit to y'all the beginning of a collection of X-Men drabbles. Most of these will be written in response to challenges that I've received. My apologies if you've already read them on my livejournal. And I'm also sorry for getting your hopes up for more of "Letters" or "Dance," but I'm doing my best to get an update out to you this upcoming weekend!
Like all things fluffy and sparkly, Rogue had an inherent dislike for Valentine's Day. And like most things Rogue had an inherent dislike for, Remy LeBeau was doing his utmost to get her to change her mind. After countless arguments since Groundhog's Day, Rogue had finally conceded that there was--perhaps--one good thing about the blasted holiday, and that was the surplus of chocolate.
Therefore it was no great surprise when Rogue woke on February fourteenth to the sight of several red velvet heart-shaped boxes artistically placed on her bed, in her--now open--dresser drawer (thankfully not her underwear drawer or else she would have to face the tedious task of explaining the rather large dead swamp rat on mansion property to Xavier), on her nightstand, and she was fairly certain that those were individually wrapped bars strewn like flower petals on the path to the bathroom.
Rogue couldn't stop the flush of something exciting her for a minute before she groaned, flopped back down in bed, and pulled the covers over her head. This caused the chocolate heart that had been on her bed stand to fall with a plop and splatter to the floor, informing her that it had come undone and some of the chocolates had come out.
Curious despite herself to see what the Cajun had gotten her, and knowing that the thief had rather extravagant tastes and the means to get them, Rogue flipped the covers off of her head and rolled over to the side of her bed, extending one arm down to the floor until her fingers brushed against the box. She managed to dig out a chocolate that had remained safe, tucked in its thin paper wrapping.
She held it up for her inspection; it was artfully formed in a seashell, its base was dark chocolate and it had some milk chocolate swirls decorating it up to the edges. She brought it up to her mouth slowly, anticipating the rich chocolately goodness that would soon be hers.
As soon as she bit down on it, Rogue's eyes widened and she spat it out into her hand. It was terrible. She looked at the crumpled up mess in her hand and then reached down and grabbed the box. Flipping the few chocolates remaining in the heart onto her bed, Rogue turned the box over and read the ingredients on the back.
Sugarless. He had given her sugarless chocolate.
She deposited the chewed up mess in her hand back into the box and reached for the one on the nightstand, this time making sure to check the back. It was also sugarless.
Eyes narrowing in growing suspicion, Rogue got out of bed and checked the box on her on her dresser. Sugarless. She threw it onto the floor.
Looks like Ah'm gonna hafta tell the professor that Ah took care of that lil' infestation problem after all. Teasing a girl with chocolate was just cruel.
Experience combined with force of habit made her want to face down the swamp rat fully locked and loaded, and that meant completely equipped with her gothic make-up. Rogue stormed into her bathroom only to walk into a sheer purple sheet of silk. Before she could do anything more than gasp in surprise, two strong arms had surrounded her, pinned her arms to her sides,and pulled her into a hard chest.
Looking up quickly, Rogue only got the impression of burning red eyes before Remy's lips were on hers through the silk. He kissed her long and slow and deep, and it set fireworks off in her gut and shudders of flame tingled upwards, through to her lungs and she found herself gasping against his mouth.
This provided him with the opportunity he needed to deepen the kiss briefly before pulling back and whispering in a voice that was warm and dark and deep, "Just wanted t' show ya, cherie, dat dere's more t' Valentine's Day than just chocolate."
Despite having promised myself to avoid 'silk scarf kisses' in any form, I don't think it counts in drabbles, do you? (grin)