Fluff. Fluff with Luc. Pure and simple. Don't read if you dislike fluff. :)
The Sim Salem Project
Gotta Learn Them All!
Lifting her head from her novel, Rogue glanced over to where her husband was
absorbed in reading a sheaf of papers of his own and raised an amused
eyebrow. Her first thought on seeing him was as unprintable in any G-Rated
fanfiction as always. Remy was never particularly hard on the eye, although
she would never have told him so on the principle that a wife's duty was to
prick her man's ego whenever she could, but he was especially gorgeous when
he was concentrating. A slight furrow developed between his eyes, while his
tongue protruded a fraction from his mouth in an almost child-like manner.
On occasion, his nose would wrinkle slightly, although he had denied it
fervently when she had pointed it out to him. Apart from that twitch, he
could remain seated for hours without moving, poring over blueprints and
schematics as he planned his pinches.
She smiled wryly. If the movies and novels were to be believed, being a
thief required little more than a fondness for the colour black and an array
of gadgetry that could counter everything from locks to alsatians.
esearch -- weeks spent in dusty archives and libraries sorting through
dusty papers -- was not glamourous, and nor was hours spent repeatedly
tracing every detail of the job from beginning to end. In their years of
marriage, she had come to learn that a successful thief was an anally
retentive thief and Remy took the prize for that.
"Who is going t'wake up a million dollars poorer tomorrow, hon?"
"Gospel truth, cherie? I wish I was plannin' a pinch at de moment," he
grinned sheepishly at her, holding out a sheet of paper, "Be easier dan
tryin' t'remember all 251 of dese little buggers."
Quirking a curious eyebrow, she stretched out an arm to take the page from
him. On it was drawn an animal that she suspected was the result of an
unlikely romance between a Visigoth and a kangaroo. It certainly had got the
least attractive features of both its parents. Large, brown and ugly, it had
a helmet on its head and a joey peeking from its pouch. It was unmistakably
a Pokemon and the word 'Kangaskhan' was printed beneath it in Remy's precise
"Best o' luck," she chuckled in amusement, "I hear tell it's almost
impossible for anyone over th' age of thirteen ta do, just like it's
impossible for any man married more'n five years t'remember his weddin'
His voice held a note of mock reproach, his smile was teasing, "What? Me
forget de day dat I gave up m'freedom in exchange for a screechin' harpy of
a wife? Never."
She sniffed, "See if this harpy of a wife helps you learn them now. Umm, why
are y'learning them anyway? Ah know some of those cards are pretty valuable,
"I want t'have a sensible conversation with our son again," Remy replied
with a grin, "All Luc talks about is Pokemon, an' I get lost somewhere
between de Pikachus and de Squirtles," he paused, scanning the sheet in
front of him, "Still, I t'ink I got dem all memorised now. Just have t'pass
de Luc litmus test ... Lemme go and show off t'him now."
Shaking her head, she laid aside her novel and followed him down the stairs
to the den. There were some things that were too priceless to miss, and her
ever-so-suave, ever-so-charming husband trying desperately to remember the
names of 251 Pokemon was one of them. She was not sure which would be
funnier: his look of smug pride when he got them all correct or his absolute
devestation when he missed one.
As she had expected, Luc was sprawled across the floor, chin in his heads,
eyes intently fixed on the television. On the screen, a group of children
were walking past a row of telephone boxes on a beach. One of them had a
pair of goggles over brown hair that would have put Wolverine's to shame,
while another was wearing a pink, cowboy hat and fringed dress. Madonna had
a lot to answer for, Rogue thought with a smile. They were followed by what
appeared to be a group of small, obscenely cute monsters. An orange batpig
and a green plant with wilted petals were the two she noticed at first
"What are ya watchin', baby?" she asked as she slipped down beside him.
"Momma! You won't believe it, but ... there's another show that's just as
cool as Pokemon! It's about this group of kids who were sucked up through a
hole in the sky and ended up in this weird world where they met these weird
monsters who can digivolve into other monsters and that orange, flying one's
Patamon and he's my favourite although I also like Agumon who can shoot fire
and Agumon is Tai's Digimon and Tai is so cool..." Luc paused in his
excited babble to suck in breath, "I'm going to watch it every single day
and ... daddy, will you buy me the action figures when they come out?"
Remy, who had gone perceptibly pale, said weakly: "Sure, petit. Whatever ya
Chuckling, she patted the spot on the floor beside her: "Come watch, LeBeau.
You've got a lot of learnin' ahead of you. Batpig is Patamon.
Charmander-wannabe is Agumon. You'll pick up the rest in time."
THE END . . . OR IS IT?
SCARY, POINTLESS EPILOGUE:
Veemon: Hey! How come Patamon got mentioned and I didn't? . *
Gatomon: Simple, you dope. You weren't around in the first
Veemon: Why wasn't I around in the first series?
Gatomon: Stop being an idiot before I use you as a scratching
post. Davis wasn't around, therefore you weren't around.
Patamon: The good, old days...
Veemon: And you had an audience? Davis told me he was the
only reason people watched the show.
Gatomon and Patamon: O.O;
Pikachu: Pika-chu! Pika!
Hawkmon: My dear chap, may I recommend speech therapy? As
it is, you sound like a drivelling idiot who can only say his own
Pikachu: Pikachuuuuuuuuuuu! . *
Charmander: Char! Charmander! Char!
Agumon: Uhhh . . . Char? Ch-ar?
Ash: There you are, Charmander. Get back into your Pokeball!
... Hey, why isn't it working?
Agumon: I'm not Charmander! I'm Agumon!
Ash: Charmander, when did you learn to speak? And Agumon
is a stupid name. I 'd rather call you Flammie!
Patamon: Like a shadow, I glide through the night on silent
wings. They turn around and I am there. Evil-doers tremble when
I pass, cower at my name, pray that they never meet me while doing
wrong ... For I am BATPIG!
REALLY THE END. AREN'T YOU TERRIFIED?
DISCLAIMER: My, I've confirmed my incipient insanity with this piece. I
apologise for the scary, pointless epilogues. They're totally unfunny, but I
had too much fun writing them. X-Men are Marvel's. Pokemon are Nintendo's.
Di-di-digimon are Toei's. I'm not making a profit, nor should I off this
sheer and unadulterated fluff. Comments to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Oh, and it's a LIE that it's impossible for people over 13 to memorise all the Pokemon
and Digimon. I know them all, even though I suspect I shouldn't be too
proud of that fact. Finally, gotta say PATAMON FOREVER! >:D
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