Disclaimer: The characters below
are based on the creations of Marvel. I'm not getting paid
for this, so put that tho't of suing me away! :D
Note: This is an Alternate X-men kinda story, where
you may recognize Remy and Rogue's personalities, but they're
in entirely different situations. Right here, it's like a
Nikita and 9 1/2 weeks clash or something. If you've read
Alexandra's Elseworlds story on the Net, then this is something
like it. :)
All comments to email@example.com
Free for a Second
The gun was held steady by a pair of lithe, well-toned arms.
The eyes looking down the crosshair were of a brilliant green,
and they sparkled from the moonlight.
Passionately red lips curved into a smile as her target came
into view,but it disappeared instantly as the slightly plump
man dropped out of view from the apartment's window.
It was a great site to be; in the hills next to the executive
block of high-class apartments, but this guy was a pain-in-the-butt.
"Ain't never come across such a hyperactive lard-tub
of a man. Figured he'd just sit there like a duck." she
muttered under her breath. "Guess ah thought wrong,"
She tossed her gun down and rolled her stiff shoulders, massaged
her arms. Picking up her bottle of vodka, she took a swig
and brushed off some dirt from her black catsuit.
Five hours of waiting had made her more than a little pissed;
she wished she could just barge in on the senator and just
rip his throat out. That was more fun than this shooting gallery-style
execution. She ran her fingers through her auburn hair, which
had a unique bleached streak running down the middle of it.
Tonight she would go back to the motel and crash. Tomorrow
she'd wake up groggy, but she'll freshen up, go kill another
political figure and get away with it.
What a life.
But she'd been stuck with it ever since 'they' picked her
off the streets five years ago, when she was barely 16. It
was a rainy night; the son-of-a-bitch that was her father
had tried to touch her again, and when she refused and struggled,
she got a black eye for her insolence. Tired of putting up
with the wastrel, she ran away from home with nothing but
the clothes on her back. For days, she was scared, homeless
and hungry -- she couldn't, and wouldn't go back to being
her father's slave and punching bag.
Anything but that.
But after days of starvation, she was forced to shoplift
in a general store, and she got caught. She remembered being
so terrified that she nearly puked her guts out, but when
the disgusting store owner started to feel her up at gunpoint,
something inside her snapped.
The woman's eyes narrowed as she relived that one moment
that she'd felt his grubby hands beginning to crawl up her
young body, flew into a rage and grabbed his gun. How she
didn't even flinch as she blew the bastard's brains out. Naturally,
she got arrested, but not for long. Someone bought her out
of the slammer and a certain death charge. She got sent into
the secret school, where she was fed and clothed, groomed
and trained to be a killer for the government. She never looked
back from then on. Until today.
Suddenly she sat very still, polishing her rifle, like nothing
was seriously wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, she could
see a figure, kneeling quietly behind the bushes. Her fingers
reached for the small knife stuck in her boot, and as soon
as she felt the smooth, cold steel, she launched the knife
at the intruder.
She blinked in amazement as the man stepped out of the shadows.
Her mouth gaped slightly open against her will; he had actually
caught the blade!! And she thought she was the only one who
could do that!
"Shouldn't be playin' with knives, petit,"
She was momentarily mesmerized by his husky voice and seductive
accent, but she compromised by whipping out a silencer gun.
"Very impressive, sugar. But ah honestly think that
you're a dead man walkin'." Her finger caressed the trigger
warningly. "Stay right there and you'll be safe."
"I jus' though we could put up a deal."
He boldly stepped up and stooped in front of her, where the
gun barrel was pointing at his head. His eyes scared her slightly;
it took a lot to really spook her. They were red on black,
glowing like coals in a fire...
Normally, she would've killed him straight off. But this
one was just too good-looking and a charmer to boot. That
irresistable unshaven look, that chiselled face. Just dreamy.
She gave him a little amused smile and drawled, "Wha'cha
got?" Watching him draw out a cigarette and light it,
she wondered if she was going soft.
"Oh, nothin' much. Jus' that de both of us, we can take
out dat tough security down dere and get done wit' de job.
All I wan' is to take his good stuff. It'd look like a robbery;
even better, non?"
Her gun stayed there, but she had an expression of the slightest
interest. He noted that regal arch of her eyebrows as she
contemplated the offer.
"Well, Cajun --you are Cajun, ain'cha?" Nod of
the head. "Ah don't usually take up offers like yours,
but there comes a point where it gets so borin'...Ya got yourself
a deal, hon."
He cocked his head and grinned. "Good. Je m'appelle
Remy. Remy LeBeau."
Brazenly, he scooped her hand up and kissed it, even with
a gun barrel pointing at his head. A coy smile twitched at
her lips as she finally lowered the gun.
"Enchante, ah'm sure. Just call me Rogue. Now let's
get ta work,"
She packed up her stuff as Remy tried to make conversation.
"Where ya from? Kentucky, Mississippi? C'mon, I like
t'know a fellow Southerner; me, I'm from de Big Easy,"
No response. He tried again. "How come ya called Rogue,
hehn? I'm sure ya got a real name dat's beautiful...Like you."
A flush creeped up her face, but the dark surroundings didn't
allow him to see it. Why was he affecting her like this? She
didn't trust anyone, but yet why was she allowing him to work
with her? What if he was planning to set her up?
Somehow, she didn't care anymore. Killing for the government
just to stay alive herself had turned her into an animal.
If tonight was the night for her to die, then so be it, at
least she would've had some fun and the company of a gorgeous
man. She smiled to herself again.
She hadn't smiled this much for a long time.
The wind played with their differently-shaded hair as they
waited for the change of security guards behind a car parked
in front of the building. That way they could get two of them
at the same time. Rogue looked towards the thief, signalling
silently that it was almost time. He nodded and slipped out
a small but sharp blade; she, on the other hand, whipped out
her trusty silencer gun, the only weapon she had brought with
"Let's do this, sugar."
Before she could move, his lips came down upon hers and his
warm, velvety tongue caressed her mouth. It took her a while
to react. But when she did, they could've started a whole
forest fire. They parted just as they heard the security van
coming round the bend. His eyes were like molten lava, glowing
with desire, as opposed to her emerald ones that had gone
smoky from the passionate contact.
As her eyes focussed on the approaching van, she demanded,
"What the heck was that for?"
"For luck," was the cocky reply. "You are
one good kisser, chere."
"Distract me again and ah'll kill ya," Rogue warned
as she made a move for the van.
The vehicle slowed down as it came to the final turning into
the gates of the premises; Remy ran up to the door and opened
it, catching the guard by surprise, and punched his lights
out. All this before the van had come into view of the other
guard at the box. Rogue got into the driver's seat and had
her gun ready when they passed the security-check box.
There was a slight whistling sound before the guard dropped
unmovingly to the ground.
"Great moves, neh?"
"Ya could've made a wonderful assasin, Remy."
"Non, I born t'be a t'ief," he insisted.
Rogue manuvered the van into a shady corner behind the building.
Remy cleaned his blade on the seat and got out.
"How many guards inside?"
She looked up at the brightly-lit building. "There're
five, six maybe in the whole building. No problem. These senators
are bloody rich, but they never seem to splurge on the security...Cheapskates."
There was a bout of soft chuckling as they made for the front
Continued in Chapter
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