Title:Prodigals #17: And They Began to be Merry
Characters: Scott, Remy, Marie (movieverse)
Summary: Scott aquires a housekeeper at a time when when it is least
expected but very much needed. Last in the Prodigals series
Disclaimer: All the characters depicted in thsi fan fic belong to Marvel,
Fox, and Bryan Singer and co.. All recipes were snatched from the Cajun &
Creole Recipe Page (http://www.gumbopages.com/recipe-page.html)
definitions were taken from Webster's New World Dictionary, 3rd College
Author Notes: HAH! Bet you all thought I'd dropped off the face of the
Earth, eh? You all couldn't be that lucky. Thanks to lnghrn for helping out
when I beeped her, frantically yelling "All my betas are swamped! I don't
know what to title this thing! I think I'm going to have to scrap this and
write it all over again!" This fic and the other before it can be archived
at Down-Home Charm, Heart of a Hero, the LeBeau Library, and shoudl they
desire it, XMMFF. It can be found at my website and at ff.net.
katt's aerie::: http://www.xeno3kattz.com
katt's aerie updates::: http://www.livejournal.com/users/xenokattz
Scribblers' Fest::: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/scribblersfest
AND THEY BEGAN TO BE MERRY
shock (sh�ck) n. [[Fr choc < chequer. ]]
1) the impact of persons, forces, etc. in combat or collision
2 a) a sudden, powerful concussion; violent blow, shake, or jar [the shock
of an earthquake] b) the result or effect of such concussion
Rachel was a very demanding baby. She knew what she wanted when she wanted
it and had no qualms about letting me know when her needs weren�t being met.
She didn�t cry all the time but when she did, the local fire department
thought it was a three-alarm call. Granted, the local fire department around
here welcomed a bit of excitement now and again. Upstate New York wasn�t
exactly known for wild and crazy citizens.
It�s amazing what a difference a mile makes. The boathouse was an entirely
different zone from the mansion. Take digital cable; I never watched all 375
channels in the mansion. A month ago, I would have been suffering with only
basic cable and AM radio. Now, I doubt I�ll ever install cable here. Come to
think of it, I probably watched only five channels regularly back in the
mansion, all but one available on basic cable. I don�t know why they don�t
televise all the Rangers games; the world should come to a screeching halt
when the Rangers went on ice.
I measured out a spoonful of freshly roasted beans, poured them into the
grinder, snapped the lid on, and set the machine on pulse. Three seconds on,
three seconds off. Three on, three off. Three on, three off. My breathing
synchronized with the high-pitched crackle of the grinder. Three on inhale,
three off exhale. If I could grind the beans fine enough to snort, I would
have. I wanted to ooze caffeine.
Unfortunately, my drug of choice was going to be a plain old espresso. I�d
just turned off the grinder when I heard Rachel cooing. I swear, the ability
to move at lightening speed is a secondary mutation brought on by the stress
�Hey there, fuzzball.� I tucked her blanket more snugly into the cracks of
her carrier. �What�s wrong? You usually don�t mind it when I make coffee.�
�I think she heard me come in.�
My hand was at my temple, ready to fire off a blast. Then the voice
registered. Funny, the urge to blast him didn�t decrease.
�Nice of you to ring the doorbell.�
Remy inspected the dust on under the couch. �Hello to you, too, Scotty.�
�Don�t call me that,� I said, turning my attention back to Rachel. She
grabbed my thumb and sucked it with ferocious concentration. �Want a beer?�
He cocked an eyebrow up at me. �Where�ve you been, Remy? Why haven�t you
been writing, Remy? How long you been in the States, Remy? I ain�t feelin�
the love, Scotty-boy.�
I shrugged. �It�s been almost a year and the closest thing I got to contact
was an interview from the Interpol. You don�t need me as a nanny, Remy.
That�s what you have Marie for.�
He drew back at that. An imperceptible movement to most people. �How much
you tell them?� he asked.
�As little as possible, of course. They cleaned out your old room and went
through the computer files. Fortunately, Kitty and another of the
professor�s old students came around a month before to put in an iron-clad
encryption. Interpol had no clue we were hiding anything on the computers
�Byen. Glad for you.� He got up, boneless as always, and tilted his head
towards the kitchen. �You want I should finish making you coffee while you
take care of her?�
�You just want a cup.�
He gave me and Rachel a wide berth on the way tot the coffee maker.
Silently, he took the sugar container out of the overhead cupboard right of
the stove. The lid popped open, rattling the cubes. The filters were on the
same shelf. With a measuring spoon and a knife, he put five spoons of coffee
grinds into the filter. Water from the fridge dispenser, nutmeg from the
spice rack--he knew where everything was. Even I didn�t know where
�You want to be safe, Scotty, you might want to change your set up from the
one in the mansion,� Remy said as he switched the coffee machine on.
�What�s the point?� I said. �If people can get into the mansion, how can a
little wooden rancher fare any better?�
Remy looked at me strangely but I was too tired to dissect his facial
expressions. I focussed on Rachel instead. Everything seemed a lot less
complicated when I did that.
3 a) any sudden disturbance or agitation of the mind or emotions, as through
great loss or surprise b) something causing this
Boxes made good furniture. They were stackable, cheap, and reasonably
durable provided you packed them tight. Most of the boxes I had weren�t even
opened yet. Moving in normal circles was a bitch. Moving in the covert
action circles was impossible. On the upside, I had a trendy Japanese-style
dinner table, extra bookshelves, and storage space without spending a cent.
Remy got cute on me and placed a vase of flowers on the dinner table. The
bowls and silverware he used were mismatched; his own spoon was plastic. I
had no idea what he�d cooked but smelled as good as take-out so it couldn�t
have been that toxic.
�I didn�t know I had this much stuff in the fridge,� I said as he ladled the
stew over my bowl of rice.
�Good thing about stew is that it don�t matter what you put in it as long as
you got enough spices and tomato sauce to hide the taste,� he said.
Reassuring. Still, I took a bite. Edible. It would never make the menu at
Tavern on the Green but I never ate there any way so it was no big loss.
�I know we didn�t have rice.�
�You had a box of instant behind all the cans of tomato sauce.�
Oh. I stand corrected. Shrugging mentally, I shoved another spoon in my
mouth. Rachel begged for attention as always. She didn�t like being out of
the loop when other people were around. I turned her carrier so that she
could see both of us. That quieted her down until she realised we were
holding spoons and she wasn�t. In the end, I got up and gave her another
plastic spoon from the kitchen just to keep her from fussing again.
Remy studied his food with more interest than it was due, stirring it around
in his bowl like he was still in the middle of preparing the dish.
�Should I be worried or something, Emeril?� I asked.
He looked up and smirked. �No Emeril, that�s for sure. It�s easier to keep
you head low when you cook for yourself than going out to restaurants. And
Marie wasn�t a bad cook either.�
�The Marie I knew couldn�t boil water.�
�Glad I don�t know her then �cause I�d be in jail. But even then I�d be
eating better than you.� The look he gave me was extremely disapproving. �Or
were you going for the crack-snorting model look?�
�It�s the Atkin�s diet.�
�Diet is �die� with a �t.��
�Byen, I used to live in a school, y�know.� He finally shovelled a dripping
spoonful of food in his mouth. Smacking his lips, he announced, �Needs more
�Smoking must have killed all your tastebuds.�
He snorted. �Like you were smoking packs of it when she was bein� born.�
I smirked, pleased at the opportunity to one-up him. �I wasn�t there when
she was born,� I said around a mouthful of food. Strangely enough, he didn�t
have a snappy come-back for that. He just stared at me, studying me while he
scooped up his stew and let it fall back down into the bowl again and again
and again. It sounded like water lapping up against the dock.
�I was in Oregon picking up a student,� I said. �Jean was in the city
visiting her friends. They were all doctors so of course, when she went into
labour, they all panicked and forgot what to do.�
�Yeah, that just made me feel much safer in hospitals.� Remy shifted in his
seat. �Still, if you were there you would have.�
I had no idea what he was talking about any more. �Would have felt safe in a
�Would�ve been smoking like a chimney.� He snapped his fingers and thin,
brown cigarette appeared between his index and middle finger. Giving it an
appreciative sniff, he tucked it behind one ear.
�Smoking�s bad for the baby,� I said.
�Especially these ones. Co! I swear, everything is smaller and stronger over
there. Take the cars for instance.� He leaned back, tilting the chair on
its hind legs. �I had me a tiny Italian thing that would run circles around
your Mazda even with all the mods you put in it.�
�Probably,� I conceded.
�You want me to give your car a few most boosts? Would be a good contest if
I can figure out how much it�ll cost to ship it over here.�
�If you really want to. Most of the cars in the garage are for shop class
now. Or driver�s ed.�
He hooted. �Driver�s ed? In Xavier�s Rolls Royce? I�d pay to see that. Hell,
I�d help with the pre-show barbeque.�
�Pre-show is cheap,� I said. �Let�s see if you want to stick around for the
�I can clean up.� Remy let his chair snap back on all fours, pushing his
bowl my way as he did so. �See, I�m getting your empty bowl and bringing it
to the kitchen. You go one and finish mine for seconds; I�ll get some
Funny. I hadn�t known I was that hungry.
�And while you�re at it, why you watchin� that shit on TV?� He wrinkled his
nose and stuck his tongue out. �It�s the middle of the night. You should be
watching porn like a normal guy.�
Porn was on cable. Like I said before, I didn�t have much use for cable any
4) an exteme stimulation of the nerves, muscles, etc. accompanying the
passage of electric current through the body
Remy came out of the laundry room with detergent in one hand and a hamper of
dirty clothes under the other arm. �Does it matter if I wash the darks
before the whites?� he asked.
I shook my head, careful not to move too much. Rachel napped on my chest. It
was the only place she napped. She weighed less than nothing though and
besides, this position was perfect for staring up at the ceiling. I had the
stucco pattered memorized. There was one spot over the TV that looked like
the professor�s profile. On the downside, it was very difficult to drink
coffee in this position. I�ve choked before, wasting at least 2 cups in
I couldn�t get comfortable today. I kept shifting, kept waking Rachel up.
Every drop of Jean�s controlled temper was concentrated into Rachel; when
she�s sleepy, she�s cranky, and she does her best to make sure that everyone
else is cranky. She was on fire today. In fact, the only reason she fell
asleep was out of exhaustion.
�Congratulations, Scotty, I think you�ve single-handedly made the khaki
industry rich.� Remy collapsed onto the desk chair on the across the room.
Kicking off the wall, he wheeled to my side. �I haven�t seen that much khaki
since the last time I broke into a military building. Don�t even get me
started on the blue shirts. I gotta take you shopping and introduce you to
my two friends: Pattern and Colour.�
�I�d rather be boring than be an eye-sore,� I said.
�It�s not being an eye-sore, it�s being a trend-setter,� he corrected. �I
know you can�t see colours too good but would it kill you to wear a white
shirt with blue stripes instead? Or if you�re feeling �specially dangerous,
�I have jeans.�
�The one pair you got has ironed-on creases. Those aren�t real jeans. Those
are jeans that�ve been arrested by the geek police. I�d go and break them
out but, honestly, Scotty, your closet scares me.�
�God forbid you don anything less conspicuous than pink stripes.� The
Xavier-profile on the ceiling was starting to irritate me. I shifted my
attention to the next section of moulding.
�It�s not about bein� conspicuous,� said Remy. �It�s about having the money
to buy clothes like that. I got boring clothes when I need to be boring.
Maybe that�s the reason you�re so boring now, because you ain�t got clothes
that make you feel alive.�
I snorted. �I hardly think my emotional state is so shallow that it can be
directly correlated with my clothing choices.�
�Yeah, and your emotional state is connected to your stubble growth.�
He shook his head in mock dejection. �Hey now, no need to be mean and
comparin� me to Ashton Kutcher movies.�
�Get over it, Remy. I like boring clothes. I am a boring person.�
�Who wears leather a few days out of the week,� he inserted just because the
bastard liked having the last word.
I kissed Rachel�s fly-away wisps of hair. �Not anymore, I don�t.�
That gave him a pause. Hah.
�Fine then. I�ll buy the kid better clothes.� I saw him reach out to Rachel
then pause, inches away from my head. I even thought I saw his hand shake
before he withdrew. �Ain�t right that the girl should only wear white.�
�She only likes to wear her onsies,� I said. �She cries when I try to bundle
her up any more. If it were up to her, she�d go around nude.�
�Better hope she grows out of that.�
�I don�t have to. I�m locking her in a convent.�
�Co! The things I could tell you about convent schools.� Even without
looking at him, I knew he was grinning wide enough for the top of his head
to slip right off.
I curled one arm tighter around Rachel�s body. �Do me a favour and don�t.
Let me have the illusion that there�s someplace where I can tuck her away
and keep her safe for the rest of her life.�
�You dreamin�,� said Remy, his voice softening. �Ain�t no such place,
�Then I�ll make one,� I said. �There�s got to be at least ten square feet of
space somewhere in the world where no-one can get to her, where she can�t
Remy didn�t have a snappy comeback for that. He rolled his chair back and
forth, scratching the hell out of the hardwood floors that Jean had cooed
over so much when we ripped out the linoleum. I focused on a spot on the
ceiling that had cow-shaped stucco chewing stucco regurgitated stucco grass.
Linoleum would have been much easier to take care of.
Eventually, the washing machine beeped. Remy stood up to check on it. �If it
helps any,� he said on his way out, �Marie always said she felt safest when
she was around you.�
Sure, Remy, the added pressure helped a whole bunch.
(con't on part b)