I Saw Mommy Kissing... That Flonquing
Bastard Remy LeBeau
by Dande
Notes: This is part of the Alchemy-verse, which is the name of
the Jean/Remy-verse that busted up my writer's block and then wasn't satisfied
and staged a hostile takeover of my brain. This takes place before the
Philosopher's Stone and is how Nate found out about Remy and Jean. In
terms of chronology the stories take place in this order:
*I Saw Mommy Kissing... That Flonqing Bastard Remy LeBeau
*The Philosopher's Stone
*Stand the Hazard of the Die
These stories take place after the Revolution, in which Mr. Claremont
came back and inflicted the Neo on us. As far as earlier continuity goes,
Alchemy and canon waltz together for a time and then split off. Sketch,
a new character that showed up in UXM recently, exists in Alchemy but
at this point hasn't claimed anything more for herself. Rogue's team is
doing their thing but they're on their own if they get into trouble. With
the amount of heavy hitters they have on their side if they get into dire
straits they're just stupid. "I Saw Mommy" takes place in Moscow, I see
the team hanging out there for a while doing favors for Remy's (ahem)
acquaintance, Col. Vazhin, until such time as he tells them to get the
hell out of his country and revokes their visas.
Story Specific Notes:
There is little in this world that is quite so disconcerting as to roll
over in your bed in the middle of the night to find Nate looking at you
like you broke his favorite gun. Nate has pestered me and pestered me
and pestered me some more demanding me to write about how he found out
about Jean and Remy. He even gave me the title. I told him to shut up
and let me sleep. Then I made the mistake of mentioning this to Ali (you
should all know Ali - the Cable Diva extrordinairre) and she sent more
Nates after me. They formed a chorus line and danced across my room, scaring
my cat, thank you. Naturally, I had to write this because I need to sleep
and my cat does not need this kind of stress in her life. Somehow, I don't
think he's going to leave me alone even after I finish this one because
one of the Nates has begun to tell me the secrets of that mission against
Wisdom's X-Force that resulted in death, general unpleasantness and Jean
going medieval on Pete's butt. (I like Wisdom but this is just what happened,
I have no control over it.)
Nate is a right bastard and Ali, please come collect the ones you sicced
on me. I'm moving soon and don't have the room to keep them.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. They belong to Marvel
Entertainment. I am not making any money off of this, nor am I looking
to. It's for fun, that's the point of it. Moscow is a city I have had
the privilege of visiting... ten years ago. I was in awe much of the time.
I'm sure there are many places in Moscow that serve dynamite cappuccino
but Nathan is particularly picky about his which is why he says what he
does.
Moscow is one of those cities I can never
get tired of. It's always the same and yet it's different each time
I'm here. You have to love that kind of dichotomy. I've downtimed here
and I've worked here. I've spent a month in the dead of winter drinking
vodka and trying to forget and I've searched out a double-agent to make
sure he never forgot. Remy brought
us here to do some work for Alexei Vazhin to whom he owed a favor.
For some reason we all decided that Moscow was a place we wanted to
stay in for a time.
I don't think anyone wanted to go back to Westchester. Most of us had
been there after Scott's death and even after performing some missions
returning there just wasn't something anyone relished. Scott was gone,
Xavier was gone, none of it was the same. Moscow was an excuse more
than anything else. When we first arrived spring was just starting to
show. We assisted Colonel Vazhin, we settled down at a hotel, and tried
to work some things out for ourselves without the specters in Westchester
breathing down our necks. Jean and Remy worked together on getting used
to the change in their powers. Remy taught Jean how to fight. Hank developed
some strong contacts in the scientific community regarding Legacy research.
Ororo started going to the Bolshoi as often as possible.
I kept looking for decent cappuccino.
One thing that has remained a constant in this city is that it's nearly
impossible to find drinkable coffee. I went to about thirty different
places before I found a likely source. The first drink did not make
my techno-organics beg for mercy. It showed promise. The little shop
was also nicely situated near the rear entrance to Gorky Park and as
I sat and drank I kept looking at it and wondering when the last time
I walked through a park was.
Park-walking is, admittedly, not a habit of mine. In the future, however,
everything is so desolate that I confess to a certain amount of appreciation
of such things as gardens and parks. Ororo even gave me a plant to "perk
up" my hotel room. She assured me it was easy to take care of. The fact
that I have yet to kill it with neglect is proof of that.
If I had to be completely honest with myself I was looking for an excuse
to take some time and figure out exactly how I felt with this new team
I was on. People do not go for walks in Muscovian parks in the middle
of November without having a very good reason for it. Eight months since
we
arrived here. Eight months of living with this team and learning about
these people.
Jean, Ororo, Hank and Remy.
Strange bedfellows.
My thoughts turned to Remy. Of all of them, I knew him the least. I
liked him the least and I trusted him the least. Yet he was the one
who brought us here. Remy is the wildcard of the group, so it made a
strange kind of sense that he be the one to call us together. I was
surprised when I got his invitation. I had barely spoken a complete
sentence to the guy since we met. We did almost get into a fight before
the world ended in Negev, but that's hardly uncommon for me.
I came, though, because of curiosity and because of Jean. I felt no
loyalty to LeBeau. If I was so inclined I could turn around and walk
away. I came close to doing just that several times in that first month.
His problems weren't mine, after all.
Remy knew what he was doing, though. He didn't call a group of friends
to help him out of a jam. Out of the four of us only Ororo was truly
his friend. She was the only one who stood behind him absolutely. He
had to win the rest of us over. It was only after we reached Russia
that I realized LeBeau had put together a group he thought would be
effective rather than a group he thought he could be friends with.
It was almost enough to make me like him. He was depending on our professionalism
to get the jobs done. I had to respect that. He wasn't a slacking, jerk-off,
playboy like I always thought he was. Actually, he was pretty good at
leading.
So, of course, just when I was getting comfortable with the idea of
Gambit what happened, happened.
It was a surprisingly mild day in Moscow. The wind wasn't blowing hard
enough to flay your skin off and I took advantage of the weather. I
was walking through the park, thinking about the group and considering
a detour down to the river bank, when I heard a laugh that sounded suspiciously
like Jean's coming from the direction I was just contemplating. Naturally,
I decided to seek her out.
A small copse of trees separated the path I was walking from the river
walk so I casually made my way through them. It was then that I noticed
Jean wasn't alone.
She was with Remy.
And they were standing very close to each other.
Closer than usual.
He said something to her that I couldn't hear and she laughed again.
He was looking down at her and then bent his head and kissed her.
My train of thought went something like this:
What is he doing?!
Why is his mouth on hers?!
I'm not seeing this. I am not! Seeing! This!
Oh, good, her arms are moving up, she's going to break his neck and
throw him in the river.
She's not breaking his neck.
She still isn't breaking his neck!
Why isn't she breaking his neck?!!
Mother Askanii, did I just see her tongue?!
I think I had stumbled back into the trees by then wishing that the
phrase 'stab my eyes' could be taken literally at that moment. There
had to be a logical explanation as to why Jean was standing on the bank
of the Moscow River with her tongue in Remy's mouth. There had to be.
Not that I could think of one. The Sisters Askanii hadn't prepared
me for such an eventuality.
Because I'm such a glutton for punishment I took another look. They
weren't kissing anymore. They were strolling casually down the river
walk holding hands. I very nearly lost my lunch. Or rather I would have
very nearly lost my lunch if I'd had lunch. The cappuccino
I'd so recently been enjoying, however, was beginning to churn angrily.
I followed them. Maybe they'd split up so I could kill Remy privately.
As it was I was very tempted to teke him into the river and hold him
there until he drowned but considering what Jean had just been doing
with him she might prove a deterrence.
The wind started to pick up and they increased their pace accordingly.
I trailed them as they made their way back to the hotel. Remy grew increasingly
uncertain as we progressed. He knew he was being followed. I was somewhat
annoyed that he had caught on so quickly but I was pleased that my team
leader wasn't so lost in the charms of a woman, even Jean, that he couldn't
catch a tail.
They reached the hotel and ducked quickly into the lobby. The weather
had become far more bitter during the short walk from Gorky Park to
the hotel and I was eager to get out of the wind as well. I jogged the
rest of the way to the hotel and entered it.
I caught sight of them by the elevators, chatting. Jean was talking
to Remy and, though he was listening to her, his eyes were scanning
the doors. He caught sight of me and offered a miniscule nod of greeting.
He also seemed to relax more. Remy respects my healthy paranoia. He
must
have figured that if I was around I'd notice if someone was tailing
either Jean or himself.
Which is true. Of course, since it was me tailing them I was already
on it. It was almost funny.
The elevator doors opened and Jean touched Remy's arm to guide him aboard.
It was strangely casual but her hand lingered a little longer than it
should have. I found myself grinding my teeth. I'd seen them like that
numerous times, talking, laughing, sharing jokes. How long had they
been kissing? How had they managed to keep something that intimate from
the rest of us? How long?!
I watched the elevator lights pause on Jean's floor then continue upward.
He must have been escorting her back to her room. How nice of him. I'd
have to be sure and thank him for that before I tore his arms off.
I walked up to Remy's room. We were all on different levels and his
was two below Jean's. There had been plenty of time for him to leave
Jean at her room and return to his own. I had to believe that that was
all that would transpire. My mind simply would not go any further than
that. All I wanted to do was get him alone and make sure he knew the
consequences of his actions.
That's all.
Really.
When I got to his room I scanned it quickly to verify that he was, in
fact, there. Remy's hard to scan because of his power but since I was
concentrating solely on him there shouldn't have been a problem to just
confirm the fact that he was in his room.
Except that he wasn't.
You have got to be flonqing kidding
me.
I went to my room and immediately settled into intensive Askanii meditations.
I needed to be calm. I needed to be in control of my thoughts. What
I was planning next would be dodgy at best. If I wasn't completely in
control of my mind, if I wasn't as disciplined as I possibly could be,
Jean would know something was up.
A suspicious Jean is one of the most tenacious creatures on the planet.
Ten minutes of intense meditations and I was ready. I sent my link downstairs
and brushed lightly over Jean's room.
There were two psyche's in there.
#Nathan?#
And one of them found me.
#Jean.#
There was a pause.
#Nathan, is something wrong?#
Yes. YES! There IS something
wrong, thank you for asking!
#No, I was just...#
#Just what?#
She sounded preoccupied. As though there were something that was drawing
her attention away. Repeatedly.
I stewed and then maintained control over my thoughts.
#Nathan, are you sure there's nothing wrong?#
Of course there's something wrong!
Someone, and I have to assume it's LeBeau, is doing something to you
that is dragging your attention away and there is a very short list
of what that something might be!
#I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner.#
#Oh... well... I'd love to but I was planning on going to bed early
tonight.#
I just bet.
#Are you all right, Jean? Are you not feeling well? Would you like me
to bring you something?#
It was mean-spirited of me to say that. But I was getting angrier and
angrier. A part of me wanted to catch her lying or have her admit what
she was doing. I was provoking her. It was childish. I wasn't sorry
at all.
#No, Nathan, I'm fine. I've been working very hard with Remy and it's
tiring.#
Mother Askanii...
Well. She didn't lie. I can at least give her credit for that.
That preoccupation was hitting full force again. Not to mention that
there was a staticy feel to our link that I knew well after working
with Remy these past eight months. That was his bio-kinetic field getting
in the way of the link, which meant two things: He was very close to
Jean and his emotions were running high.
And I did not want to be linked with Jean for very much longer that's
for damn sure.
#Okay, well, I'll talk to you later then. Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow.#
#I'd like that, Nathan. Good night.# She broke off the link just a little
too abruptly.
Shit.
The evidence was all there. They were involved in a way I didn't want
to imagine them being involved. He took the leadership position that
my father held before him. And he took Jean as well. The only way I
could think to resolve this in a manner I preferred was to kill Remy.
The problem, of course, was that I couldn't walk in and kill LeBeau.
Jean would not be pleased. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.
I had to remain where I was and deal with my own feelings about what
was going on in that other room. I didn't want to deal with my feelings.
It's why I prefer to blow things up. What is, is, feelings don't enter
into it.
And what is, is the woman who raised me found another. I don't know
if it's serious, I don't know if it will last, I don't know anything
about it really except that it proves something I did not want to recognize.
It proved something none of us wanted to accept. It was why we still
hadn't returned to Westchester. It was why we had remained in Moscow
through the summer and into the beginnings of those dark and bitter
Russian winters. It was something that two of our number had finally
acknowledged, and now, I had to as well.
My father died and the world kept going.
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