Gambit & Clarice meet

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Clarice was watching her Bowie DVD in the rec room, happily singing and dancing along to Young American’s. A few other students had come in, but upon seeing what she was watching, had retreated to other places. They just didn’t understand the classics.

Music masked Remy's quiet steps, as he entered the rec room. This was a central hangout for many of the students, which was in part why he avoided it so far. He didn't like groups until he knew all the dynamics, and he was still too new here for that. On the couch, a purple haired girl sat with her back to him, and Remy smiled as he tred softly up behind her, watching the videos on the screen. He waited until a swell in the music before sitting down on the back of the couch, just by her head.

"Aaaah," she screamed, jumping up from the couch and running to the other side of the room. "Fuck! You mind?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her Bowie t-shirt.

"Remy don't mind at all, cheré. I like Bowie." Gambit grinned hugely at the reaction of the girl. She wasn't just purple haired, but also with gray a pale gray and purple flush. It was intriguing, especially to a man who liked new things.

"So you’re the newest inmate," she said relaxing and coming back towards the couch, "I heard from Paige that you were cute. Welcome to the nut house."

"Does seem a bit like a looney bin, doesn't it? I t'ink dat bald man has a t'ing for teens in tight leather, way he acts." Remy said, leaning on one arm. "You got a name, femme?"

She laughed, "That would explain all the leather around here, but I think Xavier’s jealous he can’t wear it. I’m Clarice Ferguson; my mutant power is to piss people here off. And you are?"

"Open t' suggestions, cheré." Remy's grin spread. "Seems dat mutant powers and good looks go together in de femmes here. So dat Xavier hasn't wired up de showers for de internet?"

Clarice blushed, turning a darker purple, "I like to think that the mutant fetish groups on the internet are fairly small. I don’t think my roommates would like that much."

"Who do you sleep with den, cheré?" Remy said, making the statement sound a lot less innocent then it should have. He caught her quick glances up and down his lounging pose, and that same phantom voice in the back of his head told him this one could be best handled by seduction. 'Handled' bothered him, but only for a second.

"My roommates are Rahne and Marie-Ange," she said, purposefully misunderstanding his question. He was cute, but how could anyone like her as more than a friend?

"Remy don't t'ink he met dem yet. Guess de welcome mat isn't quite run out yet. So, cheré, other den watching Bowie, what do you do here? Anyt'ing exciting I should know about?"

"They kinda stick to themselves, but they’re nice. Exciting?" Clarice shrugged, not really sure what to say. She wanted to impress him, but she didn’t quite know how. "I fence?"

"Femme wit a sword. Dat is always somet'ing Remy enjoy. You any good?"

"Moderate. I’ve only fenced for a year, but didn’t do too badly in foil competition. I fence sabre the most though, placed third," she didn’t want to sound like she was bragging, but she had been very proud of herself. She’d had to fight for her win and she did it.

"Dat sounds impressive. Never used a sword myself. Know which end t' hold and dats it. Good staff keeps dem much further away, oui?"

"Yeah. Knowing which way to hold the sword is a start, although mine aren’t sharp. They’re intended for competition, not skewering my classmates,” she said, smiling up at him. “What about you? Or is being ‘tall dark and handsome thing’ your only trick?”

"De being tall, dark and handsome t'ing is just for skewering my classmates." Remy joked, and was rewarded with a violet blush. "Remy is more of a lover den a fighter. Not much on de 'battle de forces of evil' scale."

“It seems that everyone around here can fight,” she replied, with a wry grin, “or has some offensive power. I’m strictly defense, aka get the hell out of there! So what classes are you taking?”

"Classes? Remy don't take classes. I'm more of a student of... life, oui? Learn de lessons of de street. More important den what teachers tell you, cheré."

Clarice shrugged, not really having a reply. As punk-rock-rebel as she was or wanted to be, she didn’t have much life experience with boys or anything. She’d been drunk a few times, shoplifted one or twice, but she had never wanted for anything important or done anything she considered serious.

"Tell me, cheré. You don't look like you fit in here. Too balanced for de monsters and too independent for de Stepford students. Dat a fair estimate?"

“Yeah, seems that way. Was how it was at my last school, too. I was too freaky for the preps, but I did too much homework for the punks. I’m me. But I get the feeling you are definitely more James Dean.”

"Remy is a rebel without applause, cheré." Remy said, smiling. "Still, dere are some definite advantages to being you, I t'ink."

Clarice raised a skeptical eyebrow as David Bowie gyrated behind her. “I never have to wear pink?”

"Unless you want t' hide it beneath all de black, cheré. Personally, Remy always like when de femme has a surprise hidden under de leather coat and dress."

“Surprises, huh?” She repeated, glancing back at Bowie for some inspiration. She could do surprise. “How’s this?” she stood up and flashed her skirt, revealing white boy-shorts underwear that said ‘All I want is revenge, is that so awful?’ on the butt.

"Dat is a surprise." Remy was stretched along the couch like a cat, grinning widely. "What de femme hides is as important as what she shows."

“Could be said about a guy too,” Clarice retorted, sitting back down on his legs as if they were more comfortable than a pillow. She settled in, pinning him to the couch. “Although, what is shown could just be a distraction.”

"Well, one t'ing Remy don mind being is a distraction. 'specially to de pretty femmes." Remy crossed his arms behind his head.

“You’re enjoying this!” she screeched, tickling his exposed sides. She hadn’t realized how thin he truly was until then, but she didn’t let it stop her. He twitched, trying not to laugh as she tickled him.

"Dat not playing fair, cheré." Remy grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from his sides, the action pulling her down closer to him in the process.

Her eyes ended up inches from his, light brown to red. She blinked before breaking out into a slight grin, “All’s fair in love and tickling.”

"Dat means dis is love all of a sudden den?" Remy said, grinning widely and enjoying the mix of desire and discomfort of the girl on top of him. It had been a while, especially considering the limited appeal of the homeless image.

“It means it’s more than tickling,” she replied, unsure what to do. He was too strong for her to get her arms free, and she was kind of comfortable sitting on top of him. She stared at him, nervous.

"Cheré, you make Remy blush." He said, and kissed her suddenly; roughly. He still held her arms, holding them in position as he bussed her thoroughly before finally letting go. "I'm a sensitive kind of homme, after all."

Clarice blushed turning nearly scarlet and ran her tongue lightly over her lips. Remy tasted faintly of mouthwash and cigarettes. Not entirely bad. “I can tell,” she whispered, relaxing her body on top of his and kissing him again.

Remy ran a hand up her cheek and into her purple hair, twining his fingers into the strands. "Finding t'ings out about Remy, cheré?" He mocked, tongue flickering along her lips and into her mouth.

She pulled back slightly, shaking her head. “N-no. No,” she sat back up, breathing deeply. She quickly climbed off him and ran from the room, leaving her DVD still playing.

"You know, any other house, Remy might be offended." Gambit said, sitting up with a bemused smile on his face. Shrugging, he ejected the DVD, carefully returned it to the case, and left it on top of the television. "Maybe I need a new deodorant." He mused before flipping off the lights and walking away into the mansion.

Comments

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Sorry so belated, but I'm commenting so as to get comments back. I'm such a comment whore.

Nicely done, you two. Very sexy. Also, rrrow re: the icon.

*grins*