Disclaimers etc. in Part 1
The Best-Laid Plans
3. The Thief
So I gave in to Remy. Oh, I didn't sleep with him. I just
got tired of not having any dates on Friday nights, of
watching Jubilee bring home boys from college, of
watching Kitty and Bobby spend every spare moment
together when they were home on breaks, and especially of
watching Logan watch Scott and Jean.
Remy asked me out, as he did at least once a week, and
for the first time in the year he'd been doing it, I said
yes. His eyes widened and he looked slightly shocked. I
knew he'd never expected me to say yes after all this
time, that the weekly ask was simply a game for him, but
he played it off, because he's Remy the Gambit, and
that's what he does.
He took me to a lovely French bistro in White Plains and
we had a fabulous time. When we drove back to the
mansion, he lowered the roof on the convertible, slipped
an arm around my shoulders and screwed his courage to the
sticking point. He kissed me through his handkerchief. It
was my first kiss since I'd put David into a coma. I was
nineteen. After that, we were pretty inseparable, though
he wasn't as affectionate as you'd have expected. He was
still afraid of me. In public he'd put an arm around me,
or kiss my gloved hand, but when we were alone, it didn't
go much further.
And I can't blame him for that. Dating me was not like
dating a normal girl, or even a "normal" mutant girl. But
we had a lot of fun just hanging out, and that's
basically all I was looking for. I'm sure he was getting
sex somewhere, but I didn't ask and he didn't tell.
Logan, of course, did not approve. He and I were sitting
in the television room, watching some awful kung fu movie
when I said, "What do you think of Remy?"
"Gumbo?" he snorted. "He's a skirt-chaser and a thief,
Marie. Stay away from him."
I tried to be angry, though he was correct on both
counts. "He's my boyfriend, Logan. We've been dating for
three months. Which you'd *know* if you bothered to pay
attention." The look on his face was priceless.
"I don't approve."
"You're not my father."
"I promised to protect you, kid, and trust me, that boy's
trouble. I know the type."
"I'm almost twenty, Logan. I don't need you protecting me
anymore. I need someone who wants me. Who wants to be
with me--" He grabbed my arm, hard, and I stopped
His voice was low and rough. "You haven't slept with him,
Marie. Tell me you haven't." Was he jealous? Or was he
just worried? I couldn't tell.
I laughed nervously, trying to sound nonchalant. Maybe he
was starting to see me as a woman? I played a hunch and
lied like a dog. "Not yet. But it could happen soon.
That's what I wanted to ask you about. I mean, I know
there are things I won't be able to do, but I was hoping
you'd have some ideas... Logan, where you goin'?"
"Don't even think about it, kid," he snapped, stalking
out of the room.
He came to my room early the next morning. "I'm headin'
out for a while. Chuck's got another lead for me -- may
take a few weeks." He paced the small room, awkwardly
picking things up and putting them down again, as if he'd
never seen them before.
I pulled out the dog tags and said, "Do you want these
back now?" I know it's pathetic, but I still wore them;
they were an umbilical cord that tied us together, even
with a continent between us. It was a ritual we enacted
whenever he left. Every time, I hoped he'd say no. So
far, he always had.
He quirked a grin. "Nah, kid. They look better on you." A
compliment? From Logan? Will wonders never cease?
I smiled back. "Thanks. You be careful out there. "
I figured that was it. We'd done our usual goodbyes,
which never included the word "goodbye," since I found it
depressingly final. But he continued to pace the room, so
I settled back on the bed, waiting.
He paused at the window, his back to me. "Don't sleep
with that jerk."
In Logan's world, almost anybody who isn't him, me, Jean
or Storm qualifies as "that jerk" so it took me a moment
to realize -- "Remy?"
"Or Scooter. Either one. Don't do it. You'll regret it."
I rolled my eyes. Remy I could see him being concerned
about, but Scott? He had Jean and would never look at
another woman, our moment in the greenhouse
notwithstanding. But jealousy is a funny thing. "Yes,
He stopped pacing and loomed over me. "I'm serious,
Marie. I don't want you to get hurt, and that's what'll
happen. I know. They're playing games with you. Hell, I
practically invented the games they're playing. Just
promise me you'll be careful."
I got a little choked up at this un-Logan-like display of
concern, but I tried to hide it, of course. He doesn't
like emotional scenes. "I promise. You comin' back?"
"I promise," he said, and leaned over and brushed his
lips against my forehead, so quickly my skin didn't have
time to do any damage.
Then he was gone again.
More to come...