Stand the Hazard of the Die
by Dande
Notes: This continues in the same universe as The Philosopher's
Stone which takes place three years after the Revolution (current X-continuity).
Remy and Jean are in love. The teams are all over the place. There's probably
a lot more that could be written and WILL be I'm sure. I don't know what
to call this continuity-universe, suggestions are appreciated.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. This is a non-profit
venture. Feedback and comments are always welcome.
I don't know Remy LeBeau all that well.
I never lost any sleep over it, either. I'm familiar with his work,
I've had a couple of dealings with those New Orleans Guilds and we were
on the same side a few times when various X-teams would dogpile on some
world threat.
I thought it was an unusual turn of events that ended up with him leading
one of the flagship X-teams.
I had to change my pants when I heard he was sleeping with Jean.
Still, I didn't really know him and outside of Nate calling me to bitch
about him every now and again I wasn't too concerned with the guy.
So I was somewhat taken aback when he called me and asked me to meet
him in New Orleans. I put it off to the point where it was almost rude.
After all, what did Remy want with me? He better not have been calling
me to get advice on how to be a step-daddy to Nate. Although the thought
of having that conversation did inspire
me to move my ass a little more.
Those Guild chapters, and there are a lot of them, tend to own quite
a bit of land in the cities they operate in. The quaint little house
that I was to meet Remy in was located in an equally quaint section
of the French Quarter. Actually, the house was cleverly concealed in
plain sight. At first glance it was just as pleasant to look at as any
other place on the block, but the more I studied it the more I found
my eyes being drawn away to a different house that had ornamentation
just that much more interesting. I wondered how long it took them to
cultivate such discreet misdirection.
New Orleans doesn't have the luxury of extensive underground passages
to disguise comings and goings. What better way to cover the activity
than to make your meeting place so easily looked over?
Feeling a bit more at ease, at least in regards to the fact that if
anyone saw me going to the door they'd quickly move on to look at something
more interesting, I knocked on the door and waited.
The door was answered by a boy of about eight. He looked at me with
serious brown eyes, as if silently conveying to me the importance of
his door-answering duties.
"Is LeBeau available?"
He shook his head and the short dreadlocks he wore waved with it. "He
said you should wait in the parlor."
The parlor? Oh, this was too too Southern gentleman for my taste. I
followed, though, wondering how politically correct having a houseboy
was in this day and age.
Jean was in the parlor. She smiled at me as I entered. "Domino, it's
been a long time."
I nodded and sat down in the chair she gestured to taking the opportunity
to study her. She was still beautiful in that envy-inspiring way, but
there was an expression in her eyes that wasn't there three years before.
I imagine it would never leave. No matter what kind of happiness you
found elsewhere you just don't get over losing a loved one.
The boy that escorted me in clamored into Jean's lap and settled there
comfortably. "I see you've met Jean-Michel," Jean squeezed him affectionately.
"He's visiting his great-aunt Mattie and was nice enough to keep me
company until you arrived." She ruffled his hair. "Jean-Michel, this
is Domino, she's a very good friend of Nathan's."
The boy obviously knew Nate and studied me a bit more carefully than
he had before. He offered a shy smile and nodded but pressed back against
Jean, too shy to come any closer to me.
"Martine said she had some cobbler waiting for you," Jean continued.
"You should have just enough time for it before the meeting is over
and it's your bedtime."
Jean-Michel needed no further encouragement. The allure of a before
bed snack had him on the floor and rocketing out of the room.
I stared after him for a moment then looked back at Jean. "It's a little
domestic here, isn't it? This is a Guild house, right?"
"That's right."
"Westchester was never as homey as this, Jean," I said. And it wasn't.
Kids never seemed to be part of the equation there. At least, not little
kids. Strange, it was a mansion with expansive grounds, a lake, and
lots of alien equipment to play with but there was never a feeling as
though children were particularly wanted.
A sad look flickered across Jean's face. "Westchester wasn't really
a place for children," she said, echoing my thoughts as only a telepath
could. "Thirteen was as young as we ever got there." She frowned "That's
not right. It's not the way things should have been. Here," she nodded
her chin at the room, "the Guilds have been killing each other off for
generations but that never stopped them from raising families. We seemed
to think that there would be a right time for raising families."
"Well, the guilds do keep killing each other
off," I said. "The X-men have a hard time staying dead. You don't replenish
what isn't gone, that's just common sense."
Jean grinned at me but there was a sharp look in her eye. I realized
how badly I'd put my foot in it. Scott, after all, had stayed dead.
"Where's Remy?" It was one of my weaker segue-ways. By all means, go
from talking about your dead husband to your current lover. That's not
at all uncomfortable.
"He's with the others. They're doing some ceremonial thing." Jean shrugged.
"They should be wrapping up. They should be finished but Remy
stumbles over the Latin sometimes and has to do entire stanzas all over
again."
Ceremonial thing? Latin? "Why aren't you there? Haven't the Guilds accepted
you yet?"
"I'm not related," she replied simply. "In order to take part in the
traditional Guild ceremonies one must be kin either by blood or marriage.
I am neither."
There was an unvoiced 'yet' hanging in the air and I carefully ignored
it. Even after three years it was just weird to listen to Jean talk
about children and families and marriage in reference to anyone but
Scott. No wonder Nate was still having a hard time with it.
Jean looked comfortable in this house and in this world she currently
resided in. It was all so different from the way things
were. Maybe this was what was so difficult for people to deal with.
Jean and Remy living together, being together, working together was
just a constant reminder of how different things were.
Remy came in then, interrupting any further thoughts I may have had
on the subject. "Domino," he greeted me warmly. "Glad you could make
it." He smiled at Jean and winked at her in silent greeting.
"Well," I stood up, thankful that whatever I was called here for was
going to happen. "I was curious about what you wanted with me."
He nodded. "Let's talk in the office." He held his hand out to Jean
and they ushered me upstairs to an office suite. Obviously, Jean was
going to be a part of this meeting as well.
Actually, she started it. "I'm sure you know what's going on with the
teams these days."
The leather chair I sat in creaked slightly as I got comfortable. "Sure."
"Hank is devoting more and more time to research," she continued. "This
isn't really a problem but he's recently told us that he's decided to
completely remove himself from field work."
Remy nodded solemnly. "Moira doesn't have much time left."
"I know." Even if Nate hadn't strongly hinted at the possibility the
last time we spoke this wasn't a surprise. Moira's failing health was
an ever-present concern with Hank. Given his own research it was only
a matter of time before he chose to concentrate solely on that.
"We've been keeping our eyes open for someone who might fit into the
group." Jean went on.
They both looked at me expectantly. I blinked. "You want to recruit
me?"
"Don't tell me you're surprised," Remy raised an eyebrow at me.
"Well, no, not really," I admitted. It had crossed my mind as a likely
reason but I hadn't taken it very seriously. "I figured this was about
Nate."
"Well," Jean smiled. "In a way it is. We think you'd work very well
with Nathan and Ororo."
"Storm?!"
"Dat a problem?"
Was it? I thought for a moment. No, it wasn't really. Storm and Nate
had had a brief attraction that resulted in nothing about a billion
years ago. It had been more of an irritant than anything else. Working
with her, though. I had to ponder that one for a moment. Storm was just
the opposite end of the spectrum from me, which all of a sudden made
perfect sense why they'd ask me. They wanted Ms. Hard-nose Mercenary
Chick to offset Nature Goddess Ororo. Nate would balance us out. He
had the mercenary side and then he had that Chosen One side. He did
have a tendency to go messianic at times. He could be gritty and he
could also be compassionate. Usually when no one was looking but he
did have the capability to be nice. He'd kill me if I ever said it out
loud.
"No, Storm isn't a problem," I assured them. "Did Nate suggest this?"
Remy hid a smile, which immediately made me suspicious. "No, actually,
you were recommended by the Guild."
DING DING DING! Instinct scores! "The Guild?" I felt my lips tighten
involuntarily. "Beaudreaux." That bitch cost me half a mil on my last
contract by beating me to the kill.
"That's right," Jean nodded. "And, by the way, did you have to break
her jaw?"
More telepath tricks. Thankfully I was used to those after hanging around
Nate. "Yes I did," I replied firmly. "She called me slow and I had to
prove her wrong. Even if she is your ex." I pointed that last at Remy.
He remained non-plussed. "Part of the job. Anyway, you won't be working
with Bel."
Good thing. If we got put in a room together we'd both be missing handfuls
of hair within minutes. "If I say yes," they weren't roping me in just
yet, "what's in it for me? I'm a merc not a crusader."
Remy stretched his arms over his head. "Guess you'll have to figure
that one out for yourself. Stormy and Nate are up at his Chicago safe
house. I'm assuming you know where it is."
I admitted as such.
"If you're interested," Remy continued, "be there by the end of the
week. If not, no hard feelings, we'll look somewhere else."
"I'll walk you out," Jean stood up.
I guessed the meeting was over.
Jean and I walked in silence until we reached the foyer. Her steps slowed
and she turned to look at me. She looked at me for a long time. "We're
not really crusaders, Domino," she told me. "We can't afford to be so
narrow anymore."
That got my attention. "Does that mean you've finally learned how to
play dirty?" That was always my beef with Xavier's Dream. Sometimes
you had to go to certain lengths to get the job done. Sometimes you
just couldn't afford to work by the same high standards you strove for.
"Play?" Jean shook her head. "Let's just say that we aren't fighting
for a dream anymore. We're fighting for a reality. That's a different
business."
What can I say? She sold me.
**********************
Nate's Chicago place was a gorgeous penthouse in a high-security high-rise
that I'm quite certain he made even more secure once he got his mits
on it.
When I rang the bell at his door I idly wondered how many guns were
pointed at me. I figured the floral arrangement had one. Nasturtium
was just made to hide guns in.
The door opened quickly. "Dom!" Of course Nate knew I was there. He
had to buzz me in. He still showed a little surprise that I was there.
Damn, but he looked good. Ever since that T-O cocoon wrapped him up
a few years back he's lost that haggard dragged-behind-the-Truck-of-Life
look that he'd had for so long.
I was about to greet him when an irresistible smell wafted out the door.
"Did you order Thai?" I bolted inside and started looking for take-out
containers.
"Come on in."
"Please tell me you have enough to spare me some."
"Only if you don't mind missing out on the vegetarian stuff," Nate pointed
over to the living area. "Ororo's almost finished with it."
Ororo was on the couch watching some gardening show. She nodded at me
behind one of the containers which appeared to be attached to her face
via several noodles.
"You have garlic pepper chicken, right?"
Nate looked offended. "Of course I do it's-"
I elbowed him out of the way.
"Remy didn't say he was trying to get you on the team," Nate said after
I appeared to be vaguely interested in anything outside of the mound
of garlic pepper chicken I was devouring.
"Maybe he doesn't like showing his hands."
Nate grumbled at that.
"Good God, Nate," I looked at him incredulously. "It's been three years.
Can you please come to terms with this? He's your team leader."
"I don't have a problem with him being the leader," Nate insisted.
"You have a problem with him fucking your mom."
"Christ, Dom!" Nate looked as outraged as possible. "Could you not be
so graphic?"
I heard a noise over my shoulder from Ororo that sounded suspiciously
like a strangled laugh.
"What's so flonquing funny, Storm?" Nate growled.
"The show I'm watching," she replied promptly. "The host said something
very amusing about compost."
"That's a load of compost," he muttered. He turned back to me. "That
is not an image I need in my head."
I sighed. "Oh, grow up. I'm sure Remy isn't the guy you would have picked
Jean to be involved with but it's not up to you."
"You don't waste any time, do you?" Nate shook his head. "You're barely
through the door and you're eating all my food and busting my balls."
"If I'm going to join the team it's best if I get comfortable right
away," I shrugged. "Look, I know it's hard. I didn't even know Jean
and Scott that well and it was weird for me while I was there but...
hell, Nate, who are we to start saying you can't move on?" I frowned.
"Scratch that. You have a moving on deficiency, so I can understand
why you can't let it go."
"Remy asked you to join just because he knew you'd piss me off."
I smiled at him then. I had such a soft spot for the guy. "Maybe he
did. Maybe he didn¡¦. I'm here though."
"Yeah, you are," his tone was warm. I was not going to last long sleeping
in a different bed, I could see that already.
"Ororo," I turned around to look at her. She turned the television off
to give me her full attention. "Not to sound like a gossip but what
does the whole Remy and Jean thing do for you?"
Ororo's eyes flickered over to Nate then back to me. "Jean and Remy
are two of my oldest and dearest friends. They've suffered some horrible
losses in the past few years and they've found happiness together. I'm
thrilled that they have done so."
I looked back at Nate who wore a long-suffering expression. "Yes, Dom,
I've been working with their cheerleader. Yes, Dom, it's irritating.
Yes, Dom, I've thought about shooting her."
Storm stood up then and joined us at the table. "Maybe, if you're joining
us, you'd be interested in what we've been working on lately."
"That might be helpful," I nodded. "Nate keeps me briefed when we talk
but I don't know details. You were dealing with Genosha, right?"
"Right," Nate leaned back in his chair. "Working against the remaining
sanctions. Magneto has actually done some good there. It's never going
to be Utopia but it's not a breeding ground for evil or anything. Rogue's
team did most of the legwork on lobbying but we went over there and
got the information they really needed for it to work out."
Lobbying, I never thought I'd hear of the X-men doing something like
that. Talk about changes.
"Wasn't there some skirmish in San Francisco awhile back with X-Force?"
"Don't remind me," Nate groused. "What a mess. That was a Guild job
that escalated when Wisdom bust in and got indignant about it. Wouldn't
listen to us about it, no, just had to go and shoot his flonquing mouth
off and get one of Remy's men killed."
"It was a bad situation on both ends," Storm added. "We made mistakes,
too. If we'd been able to get a hold of Sam a lot of that could have
been avoided."
"Don't stick up for him, Ororo," Nate said fiercely. "Wisdom sold us
out. And if the blame was as balanced as all that Jean never would have
done what she did to him."
What?! This was news to me. "What did Jean do?"
"Nothing permanent," Ororo replied, her brow furrowed.
The more I heard the more I was loving the potential this team was showing
me. They had made a difference in regards to Genosha. They were actually
living in the real world and not tucked away in upstate New York behind
walls of alien security. This team had balls, and I loved that.
And I loved the idea of working with Nate again.
Things always seemed to fall into place for me. I don't consider myself
a fool, so I could see I would have to grab a hold of this opportunity.
Work with Nate, make a difference, and maybe get another chance at humiliating
Beaudreaux. Even if she did recommend me
for the job. If that wasn't probability doing a back flip I don't know
what was.
Nate and Ororo were looking at me. Ororo flashed a knowing smile. "You're
with us, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
I reached for the garlic pepper chicken again.
Ororo went back to the couch.
Nate watched me for several moments. Glad you're here, Dom.
I flicked my eyes up to meet his to give him a smart-ass remark back.
But all I did was smile.
Finis
|