Beginning: Chapter Four

by Genki Girl


Any Marvel owned characters do not belong to me. Crappy plot/storyline does along with that tough cutie Jared and the Jubemeister's new name. ^_~ Other than that, don't sue me 'cause a.) not rich b.) would be pointless and c.) me teenager meaning me have NO money. ;P

Penny For Your Thoughts:

HWAAA! ^___^ This is somewhat longer than my LAST chapters, and the next one will hopefully be longer as the countdown commences! ^_~ Count with my minna as I force my procrastintin' arse to finish this series and stamp a big ol', "THE END" on it!!! Oh, and school starts THIS Thursday (the date right now is 09/05/00 so school starts on 09/07/00) so I'll try to do as much as I possibly can until then. ^^; Ja mata minna!!!


"The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation." Anne Rice - Taltos



Remy LeBeau, undisputed lady charmer, jerked around and stopped short of throwing the card already in his hand as he took in the growling, burly man. He eyed him warily and wondered if he should run away now, or stick around and risk his life finding out what was troubling him.

He had nothing better to do than risk getting a few claws jabbed into his guts, so he stuck around.

"Wha' da hell you starin' at Gumbo." Remy just grinned and let the snarl roll off of him harmlessly. He waved the bottle of vintage wine in one hand, a very tasty item that he had KNOWN Jean and Scott had hidden until further uses. He had just decided that his needs were probably greater than his.

Motioning for the other man to sit down, and deftly ignoring the clots of blood and shredded apparel he wore, he grabbed two shot glasses and set it all down on the table.

Logan stared at the wine before thumping his way over and settling himself in the chair heavily. Remy grinned gleefully as he popped the cork and slowly poured out the glorious golden liquid, his senses tingling with excitement as the heady aroma wafted up to his nose.

Logan immediately drained his, but he on the other hand, would enjoy this wonderful, precious thing until the very last drop.

The two drank in silence, the kitchen clock ticking nearby. Finally, Remy set his glass down and watched as Logan poured himself another. He knew that something was troubling him, but respected the other's silence. At least, for a little while that is.

"Now, you gonna tell dis ol' Cajun why you came in hea' stoppin' and snarlin' like Sab'tooth was out on de loose?"

Tact was not his middle name, blunt was. And Logan snarled at him again. "My business ain't any of yer concern Gumbo."

Remy shrugged gracefully, and continued on with a wide charming grin that he knew would be lost on the other man. "Oui, dat may be true, but this 'Gumbo' is also your friend, but if you don't wan' to tell me..."

Logan sighed wearily, letting the snarl drop and Remy blinked, quickly hiding his surprise. Something was definitely up big time if Logan wasn't his usual, snarly self. "Let's just say I got a lotta thinkin' to do...I'm gonna it the hay, and you better replace this empty bottle with a new one before Jeanie finds out and sends a psychic bolt after ya an' me."

The chair scraped against the tiled floor loudly and he stood up, making his way upstairs.

Remy stared after him, fingering the rim of the shot glass absently as he reflected on Logan's words. He was thoughtfully silent for about a minute or so when he suddenly wailed in despair and grief. "He drank all de wine by 'imself!" And he could've sworn a deep rumbling chuckled rolled down from the stairs. Or maybe that was just his imagine...then again, maybe not.




Logan let the hiss of steam, and pounding drops of water beat at him as the dirt, grit, sweat and blood all rolled away down from his body. Quickly scrubbing himself down with the bar of soap and a wash towel, he thought about all that had happened. First Chuck is gone, then a girl who his senses told him that she was and wasn't Jubilee, then a not-so-satisfying brawl at Harry's, an encounter with a certain thief who was also a good friend, and it all left him unsettled.

Shampoo and conditioner came next and closed his eyes, massaging the unscented cleanser in his hair gruffly as he ignored pangs of pain deep within his heart. He was a fighter, the proverbial loner, and he shouldn't be hurtin' this hard. He'd seen many good, brave comrades die right before his eyes, and Chuck at least had passed away then why the hell did he feel as if someone was choking the air very outta him?


The large hand reached out and turned off the water, grabbing the fluffy terrycloth towel off its rack, he moved from the bathroom and into his bedroom, water dripping off his body in thin rivulets, his hair wild and the main center of water supply.

The water was shaken off, the hair left to dry on its own, and off with the towel as he slipped into a pair of boxers and his old faded, worn black jeans.

The bed was about as invitin' as a room full of Marauders right about now, but sleep seemed the only other option that he had at the moment to get away from his thoughts.

The Lord of Dreams was eluding this night however, and he stared up blankly at the ceiling, wondering briefly if that tiny moving speck was a mosquito up there.

Her face suddenly appeared, neon bright pink sunglasses perched atop the short, wild jet-black hair as a devilish gleam in her eyes lit them up to a bright morning glory blue. Her teeth literally sparkled the way those toothpaste commercials showed, and she was so bright and carefree, the only thing in his life at the moment that really made him not feel like an animal.

And just as quickly as that the morning glories disappeared into the dark, reflective sunglasses, the sparkling teeth covered as the full blood red lips smiled back at him emotionlessly. There was something so fragile, and sad about this one. Nothing like the girl who had been so vibrant and full of life, her sharp tongue only second to her fiery, ever changing nature, just as her powers would change from one color into another in one second flat.

And there were no bright, neon, happy colors about her. The black clothing suited her in a way that scared him, but why and how he didn't know.

His hand reached out in the darkness to gingerly hold the thin, plain card between his calloused fingers. Would he call her? And even without really answering, he already knew what he'd say.

He'd call her...but not now. Soon, just...not now. And finally he slipped into a restless sleep, visions and memories of a short, dark bobbing head as skid marks caused by an extreme rollerblader laughed, and into the images of the quiet, indifferent young woman...




Nyssa stood silently, arms crossed tightly against her chest, the long sleeved, silky material made her feel as if she wore nothing, the cold breeze seeping into her skin and making her shiver. She didn't move off the balcony though, apart of her enjoyed the coldness, the icy fingers that ran down her flesh because it was so refreshing, so bitingly real unlike her encounter with...'Wolvie...'

That was what she had called him when she first greeted him, the intimate nickname slipping from her before she could stop herself. That was a name that someone close would call him, someone who loved him and felt loved. And so, she had corrected herself, calling him by his name, the only name he had and only thing he really knew from his past. The name someone who respected him would call him...or someone who was a stranger.

The warm hand was a contrast to the cold, and she acknowledged Jared's presence silently.

"Nyssa, you should go inside now, the winds are going to pick up and you'll freeze out here. need your rest." The voice was gentle, but the last sentence was said firmly, and she wondered idly if she should coldly remind him that his place was to just guard her, not become her nanny. Then again, he was her big brother after all, if not in blood.

She sighed after a few minutes of silence, Jared's warmth had reminded her that her body shouldn't be this cold, and she savored the wind one more time before turning and heading back inside, Jared right behind her, only stopping to close the screen and sliding the glass door into place, locking it firmly behind him before pulling the dark heavy curtains closed.

She walked into her bedroom, and nodded her head to Jared who just bid her a polite good night and a reminder to get as much sleep as possible.

She pulled the downy covers over herself and turned on her side, staring at the clock beside her head. Three days...she had given him three days to decide, and the wait for his answer would be tense for her.

And of course, no one was there to see the pain that contorted her face as she lay awake by herself.

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