Published On: 18 March 2007
"Sweet Southern Sours"
A Collection of ROMY One-Shots
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the later-mentioned characters or anything that sounds remotely cool because I am but a poor and lazy teenager temporarily living in a foreign country. Don't sue. Merci.
Summary: Rogue tries to ride the rides by herself but the Institute mistakes her search for solitude as depression and refuse to give her space. Unfortunately, Remy also falls into this category.
It had been amusing losing Kurt in the mirror house, getting Kitty sick on the roller coasters, destroying Jean and Scott at the games but really—everyone was getting on her nerves.
The Professor had said the fair had come to town and suggested that the students take an evening off from training to enjoy themselves after Apocalypse.
Rogue could only see herself going with Ritsy several months ago…but now it was totally out of the question. She had opted for housesitting instead.
However, the professor must have hinted something to the others because they absolutely refused to let Rogue out of their sight. She had been dragged all over the park to do various games, activities and rides, trying her very best not to lose her temper or even lash out at her friends.
But her plan was failing, and quickly.
She supposed that it didn't look too good either when earlier the tag on the inside of her glove was bothering her so she opted for nicking a knife from one of the stands and try to cut it from the seem. However, to a passer-by, like Katherine Pryde, for example it rather looked like…
"ROGUE! LIKE OMIGOD! CUTTING IS NOT THE ANSWER!"
And it had all been down hill after that.
So now, after two hours of trying and unsuccessfully evading all the X-Men and even the occasional Brotherhood member, she had snatched some kid's Yankees cap to cover her distinctive hair colour combination, taken off her jacket despite the unusually cool weather, and slumped her shoulders so she blended with the crowd.
Just ten minutes was all she was asking for, really. She didn't care if she was screaming her head off on a rollercoaster or throwing seeds into a trashcan behind the vending machines. She was beyond caring.
However, Lady Luck was feeling charitable that day and the line for the Ferris Wheel was unusually short and riders were just getting off.
Rogue cast a quick look over her shoulder and saw that she was, indeed, for the first time since Apocalypse, on her own. She jumped in the rabidly moving line.
"Just one?" the man in the booth asked.
"Just one," Rogue agreed, sighing in relief. Finally, she thought, just one.
"Make that two, mon ami,"
Rogues eyes flashed in annoyance and her jaw clenched tightly, but she did not turn around, "Just one," she repeated to the greasy man under the wooden roof.
He looked a bit bewildered and nodded slowly pulling out a ticket.
"Just one..." he said.
"Two," Gambit said again.
"Two it is then…"
"One," Rogue gritted, not turning around.
"ONE," she barked and grabbed her ticket from the man and helped herself to a seat. She silently dared the people on the seat behind her to say anything. The ride filled up quickly after that and much to Rogue's pleasure, Gambit was nowhere in sight.
She must've been half way from the top, waiting for those final people to be seated when something swooshed from behind—the tail end of a trench coat perhaps?—and the balance of the seat was thrown off almost entirely. For a brief second Rogue could only see the purple sky and the rest of the seats on the ride.
She slowly closed her eyes as Remy climbed down.
"D'aww, chere, that wasn't too nice t' confuse th' ticket-man like that," he grinned and shimmied his way under the metal bar, uncomfortable close to Rogue for her liking.
Rogue sighed, making room for him, "Why do Ah even try?"
"Dunno really," he answered, flicking off her Yankees cap and letting her strange fringe fall free, "Kinda pointless isn't it?"
The Ferris Wheel was full and the ride began.
"Oh, hey look, I can see Scooter over there," Remy pointed below them.
"He doesn't look very happy," she mused, humouring him, "Think yah can make out what he's saying?"
Rogue was well aware that Scott was saying: "Get down from there right now! You know he's the enemy!" but Remy's dubbed version amused her a bit more.
"'Let's get it on right now? Quick, while we can make a getaway?' Hmm. Flattering." He said for only her to hear. "Thanks, Cyke, but Remy already be taken!" he shouted loudly enough for half the Ferris Wheel to hear as well as passers-by below.
Rogue couldn't help but grin at Scott's furiously flushed face as they began to ascend once again.
She even chose to ignore the fact that Remy had put his arm around her.
"Been well, chere?" he asked once they were approaching the top.
"All right," she answered with a shrug.
"Such a modest hero," he teased, pulling a cigarette box out of his pocket, "Remy saw y' go after Mr. Doom an' Gloom while he was away,"
"Remy wasn't there," she countered sharply with…was it resentment tainting her voice? Or disappointment?
A cigarette was lit, "Remy watches th' news," he said, inhaling, "Y' never know when a bunch o' mutant teenagers in spandex are gonna run around an' save th' world,"
Pause for Rogue to collect her thoughts, "Remy's gonna get cancer," she ripped the cigarette right out of his mouth and chucked it over her shoulder.
He exhaled one last breath of smoke and then smirked.
"It's a habit," he shrugged; he never took detours through denial.
"It's an addiction," she corrected and let out a short chortle, "Yah're probably too far gone and couldn't even quit if you wanted to,"
"You're an addiction," he said seriously.
"Ah'm a habit," she corrected, regarding him carefully, "Yah're used to seeing me around Bayville or in a head-to-head between the X-Men and Acolytes. Habit. Yah can associate cigarettes in any given location and go out of your way to buy a pack. Addiction."
"You're an addicting habit, then," he said.
She rolled her eyes, "You're hopeless,"
"But y' haven't given up all hope in Remy if you're still willin' to chuck his cigarettes in cotton candy machines,"
"Ah did not—!" she spun around, disbelieving, in the seat and looked behind.
Remy laughed, "Y' didn' hear th' thing blow a circuit? I don' think Kitty Kat'll ever be th' same again. Never knew th' girl had such a mouth on her,"
Rogue groaned and turned back around. For some reason she got the distinct feeling that Remy had given the cigarette the slightest charge so that it would cause a mild explosion to wherever it may land, cotton-candy machine or not. He did those things just to annoy her, really.
"Does anyone else ever notice," she said after a peaceful moment's silence that she almost regretted breaking, "That we're just kids?"
"M' twenty," he said gamely.
Rogue rolled her eyes, "If you learn to act yah're age, maybe I'll believe you one day. Ah'm almost eighteen and Ah've lost track of how many times Ah've almost gotten killed,"
"Y're a femme très forte,"
Four years of French lessons told her that he said she was strong woman and like the proverb went: what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.
"We're kids that chose between good and evil on weekends, train like soldiers on school days, take hits for people who hate us, and we can still make time to go to the fair and act stupid," she shook her head, "An' people call kids irresponsible when you don't see us going around screwing up the world. Kids are the only thing keeping the damn thing together,"
"Well versed, Aristotle," he said, quirking his mouth slightly, "An' as much as I hate t' deflate your idea… if I do recall correctly, it was a kid—a kid who likes t' call herself Rogue—who let out Apocalypse an' nearly brought about th' end of mankind."
She shoved him away from her so sharply and there was at least a foot and half space between them.
"Get bent," she snapped.
Recovering quickly and adjusting himself to a more comfortable position, he said, "So this is why Roguey's been attracting th' mansion's attention then, is it?"
"Shut up," she glowered darkly.
"Call 'em as I see 'em, chere," he shrugged noncommittally, "Y' can't tell Remy that th' ol' Prof doesn' acknowledge that y'all are just kids and chucked you outta th' mansion for th' evening t' go t' th' fair an' remember that, right?"
Rogue said nothing.
"An'—correct Remy if he's wrong—everyone's been walkin' on their tip-toes ever since they watched their teammate an' friend shove the world's most powerful mutant's sorry ass back into whatever form o' existence he had," he let the words sink in before continuing, "Y're powerful, anti-social, an' never talk about your problems until they blow up t' a catastrophic level. Can' blame 'em for bein' wary—s'normal."
She blew out gustily, "You let lose just one maniacal villain bent on world domination and you're branded for life."
Remy patted her back in a jokingly dotty way and said, "There, there, chere. There'll be other people in th' world who'll let loose th' next Apocalypse,"
"Let's just hope we'll be long dead an' don't have to deal with it," she muttered.
He nudged her, "That's th' spirit, chere!"
She shook her head and grinned lightly however soon it dropped.
"Don't patronise me," she said.
"Sorry," he said half-heartedly, "Habit,"
She didn't contradict him this time, "An' Ah put him back," she muttered moodily, "Don't Ah get brownie points for responsibility or something?"
"No brownie points in th' big leagues, m' afraid," Remy said with a slightly softer tone.
"Kids shouldn't be in the big leagues," she told him.
"Blame th' adults," he answered.
"You're almost an adult," Rogue raised her eyebrow.
Rogue rolled her eyes, "An' as much as Ah love taking all the credit for nearly causing the end of the world, Ah was being controlled by Mesmero,"
He looked down at her and sighed deeply, "Remy knows y' just wanted an excuse to kiss 'im while being able t' claim being possessed. But really, chere, y' didn' need to bring in the world's apocalypse just to get a kiss. Remy'd be willing to provide anywhere, anytime." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.
Rogue rolled her eyes, "Sorry, Ah'll do well to remember that for next time,"
The ride must have been more than half over. It could only have been five to ten minutes but Remy had made her feel better than she had since Apocalypse. On their way down, Rogue saw half the X-Men assembled at the ride's exit.
For the first time, from an aerial and out-of-battle perspective, it really did seem crazy that kids like Kitty and Kurt who were so fun-loving and easy-going could actually be so adult-like and powerful. But from where she sat with Remy, seeing those two in uniform (they had made it a habit to carry them around more often) and looking so prepared to fight seemed ridiculous.
It was like seeing kids playing dress-up in a hero's wardrobe.
Rogue laughed as she nudged Remy's side and motioned to them with her thumb. For some reason he seemed less interested in them than he did with her.
"I don' think I've seen so many consecutive smiles from y' before," he mused, squeezing her shoulder.
"What can Ah say? I'm addicted," she answered.
"Or maybe it's jus' a habit y' associate wit' Remy,"
The sun had set about an hour before and all that was left was a trail of purple blazing across the sky with the stars skirting across a canvas of navy following not too far behind. Below it all lay the city of Bayville, alive in the dying lights.
Yet somewhere in between sat two southerners on the highest point of the Ferris Wheel, content in the other's presence.
So here starts random ideas that are too short to be considered One-Shots but won't leave me alone until I get them written down. Feedback is always appreciated.
If you have any ideas or suggestions, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
(Psst, for those of you who don't know—a Southern Sour is an alcoholic beverage ;D)