25Disclaimer: "Now is the winter of our discontent…" Richard III, Act I, scene 1
A/N: Updates on Thursdays *fingers crossed*
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Chapter 1: December 13
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
Remy LeBeau loves Christmas. It's his favorite time of year. There are good smells in the air and decorations everywhere you look, and the people are nicer, happier, more trusting, and much easier to steal from.
Remy has been informed that this is not a particularly nice sentiment, but he can't help what he is. He's got thieving in his blood. Sort of. He was adopted, so not really, but it's the thought that counts.
Christmas is Remy's favorite time of year for other reasons, though, and many of them involve his chere, the love of his life, she of the glorious hair and disdainful expressions, who grinds his heart beneath her pointy-heeled boots and leaves him begging for more: Rogue. Specifically, the way Rogue looks in snow, pale cheeks flushed and snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes, made-up lips parted in delighted gasps. She looks spectacular in green and red, and it just so happens that Professor Xavier has decided that everyone should wear those colors in the Christmas picture of all the inhabitants of the mansion that he insists they take every year.
Remy doesn't always agree with everything Professor Xavier says, but he has no complaints at all about the man's ideas of a proper Christmas.
Back to Rogue. Remy loves to watch her in the evenings, when there's a fire in the living room of the mansion and she's curled up in pajamas and slippers in the big armchair, squeezed in carefully next to Kitty and sipping hot cocoa.
He also loves the moments when they're hanging Christmas decorations and he can casually shove Bobby out of the way and pick up the slack in the wreath before Rogue notices that her partner has changed. True, she always seems to give him a suspicious look afterwards, but it's worth it for the few seconds that they're standing nearly nose to nose.
Well, nose to chin. Roguey is kind of short.
Besides how amazing Rogue looks at Christmastime, Remy also likes cookies and presents and snow and the warm feeling of being surrounded by family and safety that comes with Christmas at the mansion. It's not that he isn't accepted or loved with his family in New Orleans, but he has to admit, there's something especially nice about the Institute, where everyone is a mutant and he isn't the weird cousin with the freaky eyes. The mansion is home now. The X-Men are his family.
Which is why Remy is understandably annoyed that someone is plotting their doom.
"Well this is annoying," Remy says irritably, rubbing his hand over his forehead.
Todd, the red-headed young stoner that Remy made friends with two years ago while he was staking out the X-Men for Magneto, nods sagely. "Sucks when there's a secret organization dedicated to ruining your life," he says, completely without irony, as far as Remy can tell.
Remy had first met Todd while sitting in this very café, a little place that Rogue and Kitty liked to visit after school. The kid was sipping a small black coffee and staring hungrily at the pastry display case. Remy, being a kind soul, in addition to being extraordinarily good looking and talented in many aspects of life, had bought him one of the scones and plunked it down on the table in front of Todd as he sat down.
(Okay, so actually Remy had stolen the pastry, but who actually cares about the details of the transaction?)
"You're gonna catch flies," he said to the astonished teenager. "Eat your scone and stop staring at Remy."
"You talk about yourself in third person?" the kid asked incredulously, already wolfing down the scone. And so had begun a beautiful friendship. Remy still stops by occasionally to get the underground gossip of Bayville and make sure Todd hasn't starved to death.
The conversation Todd had overheard had taken place in the alleyway next to Todd's apartment. It was a very shady alleyway, because Todd lived in a very shady part of Bayville. In fact, it was exactly the sort of alleyway in which conversations about illegal activities (or occasionally, the illegal activities themselves) take place.
The conversation had gone something like this:
"They're just a bunch of kids."
"Mutant kids. Besides, the boss says they have to go, so we don't argue."
"But –"
"Do you want to tell him that you don't think it's right to subdue the mutant kids?"
The reluctant henchman sounded sulky. "We both know what he means by subdue. We aren't talking about any peaceful sit-down here. He wants mutants to study, and he wants us to get them. They aren't doing anything, and he wants us to kidnap kids and give them over to his little team of scientists. Who knows what he's gonna do to them?"
"Why do you care?" his partner said disgustedly. "They're mutants. Barely even human. Come on, our smoke break isn't that long. We've got to get back." Their voices faded down the alley and Todd understandably didn't stick his neck out of his window to stare after them. For one thing, his apartment didn't exactly have heat, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to close the window again after opening it. The last thing he heard was the reluctant henchman's grumble, "But it's Christmas…"
"Okay," Remy asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, "so do you actually know who's planning to attack us?"
Todd shakes his head. "Nah, man," he said. "I only know what I heard. I dunno who those guys work for or anything."
Remy pokes himself in the forehead in exasperation. "Can you find out?" he asks. "Remy don't want to put you in danger, but it could be a matter of life and death –"
"Sure, man," Todd agrees easily. "I got a buddy. He's got connections, y' know? He'll know where to ask."
Remy doesn't really want to know what kind of connections any of Todd's friends might have, but he sighs in relief anyway. "Thanks, Todd." He offers the kid a couple of twenty dollar bills. Todd tries to wave it away, but the kid's eyes are hungry and his hands are shaking. Remy feels bad about probably funding his drug habit, but he's got a feeling that the hunger is more pressing than the drugs, so he insists until Todd accepts the money. He ducks his head and Remy reaches out to ruffle his hair.
"Merci, kiddo," he says again. "Keep Remy posted."
Todd rolls his eyes. "You know, that habit of speaking in the third person about yourself is still really weird."
Remy grins. "Merry Christmas," he says.
000
Remy returns to the mansion with a spring in his step that carries him right over the gate before he remembers why that's a bad idea.
"Oops," he says, and then runs.
It's a bad idea because Remy himself had designed the front gate security system after a serious talk with Professor Xavier about how it shouldn't be so easy for someone to enter the grounds. Remy had proved how easy it was by breaking in over and over again. Professor Xavier had finally given in and asked him to make some changes to the system.
"And while you're at it," Xavier had added mildly, "you might as well move into the Institute. I can't imagine you wish to continue lodging with the Brotherhood."
This was true, and also Remy was at the mansion nearly every day anyway, having made friends with most of the students and having fallen in deep, serious adoration of Rogue.
"Besides," said the professor, "you're here nearly every day, anyway." And that was that. Remy moved into the mansion and the security system received a number of upgrades.
Needless to say, simply jumping over the gate is considerably more dangerous than it used to be.
After escaping the giant claws and dodging the lasers focusing all of their power on the (substantial) amount of heat in Remy's body, he makes it back to the gate and punches in his security code, which identifies him as a resident of the mansion and chirps a happy greeting to him as if it hadn't just attempted to blast him to pieces.
Remy is still grumbling about the lasers when he enters the mansion and is smacked in the face with greenery.
"What," he says with his mouth full of pine needles.
"Whoops!" Kitty giggles. "Sorry, Remy!" She moves the huge wreath aside and beams up at him. He smiles back, because Kitty's smiles are infectious and it takes a stronger man than Remy to not return a grin from her.
"Where have you been?" she asks as he grabs the other side of the wreath and helps her lift it onto the front door.
For a split second, Remy considers telling her. After all, a potential threat to the X-Men should be reported, right? But then he looks at her happy face and her holiday joy and can't bring himself to ruin it. Besides, the X-Men are easily mobilized, and if there's any trouble, he's sure that he'll be able to bring them up to speed quickly enough.
"Remy was just meeting a friend," he says vaguely, pulling his trench coat tighter around himself, even though the mansion's foyer is comfortably warm. Kitty looks suspicious but is quickly distracted by Kurt, who teleports into the middle of the hall and looks around wildly.
"Hide me!" he blurts out and dives behind Remy.
"Uhh," says Remy.
Jean storms into the room and puts her hands on her hips. "Kurt, what did I say about those decorations," she says sternly, and then she sees Remy.
"And where have you been?" she snaps, pushing her hair away from her face and glaring at him in frustration.
Remy's eyebrows shoot up and he gives her a lopsided smirk. "Remy been out," he says. Jean scowls.
"I don't know what you're up to," she says, "but I won't have it ruining Christmas. Do you understand me?"
Jean isn't all that bad, really. It's just that she is a perfectionist and a control freak and inclined to suspect Remy every time something goes wrong with her plans.
(This is highly unfair. He only sabotaged one party, and that was entirely by accident.)
"Understood," Remy says. Of course he won't ruin Christmas. What does she take him for? He isn't the one planning to attack them all, is he? That's some other Grinch.
Wounded, Remy retreats to the kitchen, where he's fairly certain he'll find his chere, his belle femme, his –Remy stops that train of thought before it becomes too sappy and enters the kitchen.
Sure enough, Rogue is there, helping Storm and Jubilee cut Santa and reindeer-shaped cookies out of the flat pan of dough sitting on the counter. Jubilee looks up and giggles when she sees Remy. He smiles and shakes his head. The younger girls are all quite smitten with him, which is cute, but Remy's heart belongs to one only. Remy sneaks up behind Rogue and reaches around to steal a lump of sugar cookie dough.
"Remy!" Rogue swats at him with one ungloved hand. He forgets about the dough for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of her pale, smooth skin. It's rare that Rogue takes off her gloves, and Remy soaks up each unguarded moment like a thirsty plant in Roberto's room. That boy never remembers to water his plants, but he insists on keeping about ten of them in his room.
Rogue waves her hand in his face. "Earth to Swamp Rat," she says in amusement. "You in there?"
Remy shakes his head and gives her a hopeful smile. "Remy is always here for you, chere." He tilts his head to one side in a way he knows makes him look especially endearing and says, "Maybe you'd like to go for a ride with Remy?" He knows for a fact that his motorcycle is one of his most attractive qualities. Women love his motorcycle.
"Hmm," Rogue says absentmindedly. "Not now. Got cookies to bake, Swamp Rat." She presses the elf-shaped cookie cutter into the dough.
Remy nods sadly. It's no more than he expected. While Rogue is the undisputed love of his life, he is quite sure that she doesn't feel the same way. Two years ago, after their adventure in New Orleans, he'd given her his Queen of Hearts card, hoping that she would understand what he meant by the gesture. And then, during that whole fiasco with Apocalypse, while Roguey was running around stealing everyone's mutations, he could have sworn that she took his by kissing him. That had to mean something, right? She wouldn't just kiss him for no reason.
But ever since Remy joined the X-Men and moved into the mansion, Rogue hasn't mentioned the card or the kiss even once. Every time he tries to flirt with her, she brushes him off or tells him to "stop messing with me, Swamp Rat, I'm not in the mood for your shenanigans!"
If it wasn't for the occasional smiles and the teasing banter she sometimes shares with him, Remy would think that Rogue doesn't even like him.
He turns to leave the kitchen and completely misses Rogue's continued answer. "But I'd love to go later –Remy?"
Remy decides to drown his sorrows in greenery and Christmas cheer and trudges back to the front hall to help with the decorations. Jean is directing tinsel and garlands telekinetically and Scott is waiting to center them perfectly on the banister. Kitty swoops by on one of Bobby's ice slopes, skates attached to her feet and red bows draped around her neck.
"Remy!" she cheers. "Come help me!"
"Uh, how about Remy help put up the Christmas tree?"
"We haven't cut it yet," Scott calls down. "We're going out in a few days, but we want it to stay fresh through Christmas, so we can't get it yet."
"You cut down a new tree every year?" Remy asks incredulously. Kitty giggles and Bobby shoots out some extra ice to carry her over to Remy's side.
"It's tradition," she says, eyes sparkling. "Now, come on. I'm finished with the bows, so you can help me string up the Hanukkah lights!"
Right, Kitty's Jewish. "Uh, okay."
Remy is holding Kitty on his shoulders as she strings brightly colored blinking lights across the windows of the big living room when he hears Jean and Scott.
"We have to make sure we don't serve anything with peanuts tonight," Jean is saying. "Warren is coming to stay for the next couple of weeks, and he's extremely allergic."
"How is Warren doing?" Scott asks, deftly sprinkling fake snow on the window sill.
"I think he's really enjoying his work as an activist for mutant rights," Jean says. She glances over at Scott with a smirk. "He asked about Rogue."
Remy scowls silently. Warren Worthington III, millionaire, debonair, and putting on airs, if you ask Remy. So he's coming for Christmas? Great.
Remy has heard all about Warren with his stupid angel wings and his stupid perfect hair and smile and fancy car and pretty house. Of course, Remy has been in that pretty house before, and it isn't anything special compared to the mansion. One enormous house is just like another, really. The fact that Remy had been there to steal something for Magneto is beside the point.
But Kitty and Jubilee and Amara have told Remy all about how Warren had met the X-Men, several Christmases ago, and how he and Rogue had shared a "special moment." Or two.
Remy is definitely not pouting.
"Stop pouting," Kitty tells him, sliding off of his shoulders and landing neatly beside him. "And stop acting like you're in this big competition with Warren. Rogue isn't a prize to be won, you know."
"Remy knows that," he sulks. "But what if Warren gets here all stupid shiny and Roguey decides that she wants someone to cuddle up to the fire with?"
Kitty rolls her eyes. "Maybe she'll pick you, dummy, ever think of that?"
Remy stares at her disbelievingly. "Chaton, Remy think you've been spending too much time in dusty ol' boxes. Rogue don't even like Remy."
She gapes at him. "What? Remy, are you serious?" He just looks at her and she groans. "Oh my god, you are."
"What?" Remy asks testily, because he didn't ask for Kitty to start nosing in on his feelings here, okay.
Not that everyone in the mansion (and probably half of Bayville) doesn't already know about his feelings for Rogue, because Remy doesn't exactly do subtle when it comes to his romantic life.
"No," she says, "no, I am not dealing with this right now. I have to go make sure Bobby doesn't break my great-grandmother's hanukiah." Bobby jumps guiltily and puts the nine-pronged candle-stick back on the mantle. Kitty huffs and says, "Look, Remy, take it from me. You really don't have to worry about Warren. Trust me."
Remy does trust Kitty, but in matters of the heart, she can be incredibly dense. For instance, she still hasn't figured out that the reason Remy's old Acolyte buddy Piotr Rasputin keeps coming around isn't because he likes Rogue's attempts at stroganoff.
(Piotr, actually, does not like anyone's attempts at stroganoff, because Piotr is a purist, and also a snob. Does Remy complain that no one at the Institute can cook as well as his Tante Mattie?
Well, actually.
Never mind.)
Piotr's (massively obvious) crush on Kitty aside, she is also still trying to decide if she wants to end her tempestuous relationship with Lance Alvers once and for all. Remy has tactfully suggested that she break it off and she had promised to think about it very hard. Remy has also less tactfully visited the Brotherhood's dilapidated house and informed Lance that if he wants to keep his chances for future progeny, he will stop trying to convince Kitty to renew their relationship.
Remy's point is, Kitty is not necessarily the best judge of whether or not he should be worrying about Warren Worthington III.
Well, he decides, if Warren is coming to steal Rogue's heart, then there's no way that Remy is going to lie down and let him without a fight. There's only room for one thief in this mansion, and Remy's got the position locked down, thanks very much. If he even has the smallest chance with Rogue, then he's got to try. No more playing around. He has to tell her how he feels, for real. No games. No cards.
Christmas is the time for miracles, right?
000
Warren Worthington III's arrival at the Institute is just as ostentatious as his name, and Remy hates him.
Maybe it's not Warren's fault that he's handsome and rich and has angel wings instead of the devil's eyes, but that doesn't mean Remy has to like it.
"Warren!" Jean welcomes the man with open arms and a bright smile. Scott shakes his hand enthusiastically. Ororo kisses him on the cheek and Professor Xavier beams up at him. Kitty gives him a hug, from Kurt he gets a high-five, and the rest of the students crowd around to shake his hand, ask him questions, and clamor for his attention.
It's worse than when Logan comes home.
Much worse, because Remy actually likes Logan, as opposed to the definite loathing he feels for the puffed up parakeet currently schmoozing Remy's new family.
When the angel man finally reaches the back of the crowd, Rogue appears, a vision in a dark silk skirt, pale shoulders draped in a purple scarf, elbow length gloves covering her dangerous hands. She extends her hand to Warren with a smile and he bows to kiss the back of her glove. Remy grits his teeth and decides to exit via a conveniently open window.
He sits on the roof in the bitter cold and smokes.
Joy to the world, he thinks grimly. Clarence is here for the next two weeks, Rogue still don't love Remy, and there's a Grinch somewhere out there trying to steal Christmas.
He turns his phone back on and checks it. 37 missed calls from:
Tante. Pére. Mercy. Belle.
He groans.
"It's the most wonderful time of the year," he sings to himself sarcastically, and then sucks hard on his cigarette.
… a partridge in a pear tree!
A/N: This is going to have more plot than I expected…
Additional, No-Longer-A-Spoiler Disclaimer: I do not own Clarence the angel. Or the Grinch. Or Todd, actually…