Warning: There's a kissing scene. Other than that, nothing else. Just wanted to give a little alert here.
Disclaimer: I am a millionare. Not. But compared to Marvel, who owns all of the characters below (except for the occasional cockroach or mouse), I am in a much safer financial situation. :) See what happens when you work against the demands of the fans? Take a lesson here, kids. :D
Note: Here's Free for a Second Part Deux. It's probably a 2-parter, 3 at most. I still have no idea where this story is leading to, but rest assured I'm putting in the best stuff that leaks out of my head. No, not weat! Brainjuice! :P My usual thanks to the kind ppl who have put up my stuff on their pages. :)
P/s: Did y'all watch Addicted to Love with Meg Ryan and Matthew Broderick in it? I LOVE IT!!! i think i'll go watch it again... :)

Free for a Second
by Vicki Lew
June 1997

Part Two

Whoo-eee.

Ya really outdone y'self dis time, Remy LeBeau. Got y'self an assasin dat's like livin' fire, beautiful and wit' de brains. You know she's a pro, she's lettin' you get t'her only because she be lettin' ya, for some reason.

Right back to de action; one smooth stroke and she knocked de guard out at de security counter. I did de huffin' and puffin' part by haulin' de man into de broom closet down de hallway. Dese people never keep fit, do dey?

I turned round to see Rogue goin' down to de systems room; she'd taken de guard's keycard and figured out de password. I ain't surprised. She's been stalkin' dis buildin' for close ta a week.

I watched her as she busied herself with pryin' de cover off a ventilation shaft. I asked, "Wha'cha doin'? I tho't we were gonna go in an' gun down anyone in our way? What's dis I see instead?"

Green fire from her expressive eyes burned through me. Bleeeep. Wrong answer, Mr LeBeau.

Shit.

"Ah *am* an assasin, Cajun. But that don't mean ah'm trigger-happy and gun down any redneck that ah want to!" She walked right up t'me and said in my face, "Ah am not a psychotic serial killer, ah only want t'kill my specific target, any others that die by my hand are the critical hinderances to my plan. Ah don't kill for fun, sir. Don't ya forget that."

Backing away slowly, she got back to unscrewing the vent.

"I'll keep dat in mind, p'tit. An' I'll keep my mouth shut too."

Rogue nodded and tol' me to make m'self useful by disablin' de alarm system and cuttin' off de alert phone line. It wasn't much of a chore t'me. Havin' done dat, we both crawled up the ventilation shaft and got back on track of our li'l adventure.

The barrel of the gun prodded him in the head.

"Get'cha hands off my butt or lose 'em, mister." Remy shrugged and insisted that it was an accident, the shaft was dim and constricted. "Then my gun goin' off *might* be an accident too, sugar."

"'Kay, 'kay, I get de idea."

As Rogue turned back to crawling forward, she found herself with a smug grin on her face. She couldn't help it. This man's company had brought a little spark to the past 30 minutes of her life; she didn't realize that she had craved for company that bad.

She stopped as they reached the end where the horizontal shaft took a turn up vertically, leading to the higher floors. Reaching for her belt, Rogue produced a barbed mini harpoon-gun, took aim and launched the anchored rope upwards of the vertical shaft. She tugged on the rope, making sure it was secure before hefting herself onto it.

"Wait till ah get up there," she ordered her partner.

"Why, chere, 'fraid I'll look up your skirt?" Remy teased.

Looking down at him, Rogue smirked and pointed out, "Oh, but ah ain't wearin' a skirt; why don'cha sit down an' cry 'bout that?"

She got her reply in chuckle form as she scaled the thin cable towards the opening of the shaft that snaked through the sixth level. Faintly, she heard the soft humming of a familiar-sounding zydeco tune below. It made her long for home back South. Her eyes welled up with unexpected moisture; she didn't think she could feel anymore.

"Ya done yet?" The Cajun hissed. He got the muffled reply that she was almost there, so he continued humming his favourite tune and shuffling his playing cards. "Maybe ya should lay off all dat Southern fried chicken in a henny-penny batter, neh?"

Silence.

He leaned out to take a look, but retracted in a flash as a small blade came whizzing past where his head had been. Whoa.

"You're lucky you're a thief with lightnin' reflexes," Rogue commented dryily as she perched from the square opening in the shaft wall a distance up. "C'mon, get'cha butt up here!"

Rogue rolled her eyes as the infuriating man laughed his way up the rope. She was beginning to regret this...

The vent covering rattled open softly, and a figure clad in black held on to the edge of the exposed outlet and did a smooth flip-over, descending down to the carpeted floor below silently. The other figure, more manly and fitted with a trenchcoat, did the same. She knew that round the corner, there would be two bodyguards by the door where her target resided.

"Time for a li'l fun,"

Slipping off her black jacket, and flipped it inside out, Rogue had herself a white jacket. Now she looked model slim, model pretty and model harmless. She noticed that the Cajun had fastened his eyes on her; she gave him a seductive smile, whereupon he began to feel a little hot under the collar. Now *that* was amusing. Rogue raked her hand through her auburn hair, and slung the jacket over her shoulder before sauntering around the corner towards the two bodyguards. Sure enough, they drew her weapons at her; Rogue, playing the fragile woman, gave a slight scream and dropped the jacket to the floor in her 'shock'.

"Mah goodness, ah didn't know it was that serious a crime t'be on the wrong floor!" she commented drily as the men apologized profusely and both bent to retrieve her jacket for her.

There was a sudden burst of silent movement in the hallway; Remy LeBeau did several smooth somersaults and executed powerful kicks to each of the unwary guards, knocking them out instantly. When he was done, he grinned winningly at Rogue. She sniffed haughtily and called him a show-off.

"Well, Mr Tubby won't be in until midnight, he's gone to his friend's downstairs ta share a nightcap;ya got an hour to get your loot. Now, get that door open, Cajun, and we'll drag these fellas inside like sacks o'potatoes," Rogue informed him as she stuck a sign that said, 'Gone for a break.'

A little joke of hers.

Remy whipped out his lockpicks and opened the door without so much of a breeze. He kicked it open and bowed low, sweeping his arm in a welcome gesture and said, "Ladies first, chere."

Ironically, Rogue let out an unlady-like grunt as she struggled with the burly bodyguard and hissed through her teeth, "Why, thank ya kindly, sir...Now why don'cha HELP ME!!!"

He straightened up in alarm and put his hand up over her mouth like lightning. His head darted around, looking out for danger but he found none. He hefted both bodies into the room in silence, pulled her in and shut the door tight.

Once in the comfort of the dark, he said roughly, "Ya crazy???"

His eyes glowed even more than before; it scared her now. No mortal should have eyes like that. Rogue shivered and backed away.

"What are you, Remy LeBeau?"

He held up a card and it became enveloped in a fiery ball of light. Her gasp was quite audible, even though she had tried to supress it.

"I'm de devil's spawn, Rogue. An unwanted nightmare, a freak of nature," he explained as he gave the card a light toss and it disintergrated noiselessly. "I'm a mutant, chere. You 'fraid of me?"

"N-no. Just surprised, ah guess. Ah've never met one before," she rolled the unconscious bodyguards over to a darker corner with her foot, and tried to regain her poise by checking on her gun. "Your eyes jus'...made me a li'l uneasy, that's all."

They walked over to the bed, turned on the dim nightlight and sat on the edge of it facing the front door, each preferring to be reticent for a while. Aloof and distant, the odd couple scrutinized the vacant and lushly-furnitured apartment. Many golden ornaments and statues grazed the mantlepiece, and the Persian carpeting under their feet cost enough to feed a family for a good couple of years. Rogue wondered if the stuff on the mantlepiece was all solid gold.

Suddenly, the thief stood up and decided to live up to his profession; he produced a large sack and went up to the paintings on the walls. He let out a low whistle of awe.

"Dis costs a bomb...I didn' expect somethin' dis good t'be here," He took out a small penlight and examined the surface of one small painting. "It be real alright."

He took it off the wall and lowered it gently into the bag, frame and all. Rogue watched intently as the man went on to contemplate the value of the gold statuettes. She watched his fingers, long and graceful, caressing the surface of gold; his hair that fell irresistably over his brow. Somehow he knew her pain, even though she didn't tell him anything about her past.

She was *so* tired and lonely...

A lump formed in her throat and tears spilled out from her eyes; she didn't know why she was crying. She didn't even know that she could shed tears anymore. A sob escaped her, and Remy spun round immediately. He blinked stupidly at first, but then his hard features softened as his heart went out to her.

She was in the same situation as he was. Taken into something that they didn't want; they had been too young and too scared to fight for their freedom. For him, it was the New Orleans Thieves' Guild, he'd been accepted as part of the family when he was orphaned and found wandering on the streets. He didn't want to be with them anymore, but after 15 years of being a thief, there was no other path for him to take. He had to be on the run constantly.

Rogue curled up into a ball and hugged her knees, sobbing quietly. He set down his bag and went to her, smoothing her hair and comforting her with gentle words. He held her tight and shared her pain; when she finally quietened down, he kissed her cheek lightly, half-wondering if she would give him a shiner for his audacity.

She didn't, and he brought his lips to her soft, plaint ones. Her arms came up almost immediately to entwine around his neck, her response an urgent one, as if she had only a little time left to live. His body temperature rose as he felt her tongue brushing against his in a seductive caress, the gentle suction of her sweet mouth arousing him...She was so soft against his body...

Rogue stiffened instantly as she heard a masculine voice outside the door, calling for his bodyguards. Pulling away from the intimate contact split seconds before the key in the lock opened the door, the assasin pulled out her silencer gun and took aim, pumping one single bullet between the eyes of Senator Greene. The man fell to the floor without so much of a gurgle of death.

They were both stunned for a minute, realizing how close they had come to jeopardizing the whole assignment. The walls erected themsleves around her again; Rogue slid away from Remy and looked quietly at the body. Then she looked at him, and without a word, left the room rapidly.

Continued in Chapter 3

Down-Home Charm / Fan-Fiction / Fan Artwork / History Books / Photo Album / Songbank / Miscellania / Links / Updates

Legalese: Rogue, the X-Men, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are Trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. and are used without permission. This is an unofficial fansite, and is not sponsored, licensed or approved by Marvel Comics.
• Privacy Policy and Submission Guidelines