REMY'S ELEVEN: That's A Nice Fountain
Dec. 11th, 2004 01:01 amThe Hollywood ending
"It's like a different place at night." Nathan leaned against the railing, looking at the banks of light reflecting off the water. The Bellagio's fountain was a massive curtain of cascading water and separate jets blasting in wide arcs. The lights turned the water ivory, its foam a frosty white. "Seems cleaner somehow."
"Dat's de illusion." Remy joined Nathan at the rail. "America's playground. Like dat Disneyland."
"Well," Nathan said with an only slightly forced chuckle, "we have just cleaned out a giant rat. Not nearly as friendly as Mickey, mind you..."
"See if Arcade is willing to wear dose big white gloves."
"Fuck." Nathan put his head down between his arms for a moment, trying to convince all the accumulated tension from the week to go away. He suspected it would take a couple of nights of solid sleep before that happened, though. "I do not believe we got away with that one."
"Luck, homme. We were due some good luck for one." Remy said, but for one his swirling mind was broadcasting, and Nathan could feel the sick relief in the other man.
Nathan straightened, taking a deep breath. Job was done. Time to shake it off. He had always fretted worse after the fact. It had driven GW nuts over the years. "Wonder what the others think?"
"Ask dem. Dey be along soon enough."
"How do you know?" Nathan asked curiously. He hadn't sensed anyone on their way up.
"Because, homme, it's de movie moment." Remy took a deep drag of his cigarette.
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "That's what you believe in?" he asked a bit skeptically. Mistrustfully, even. He didn't believe in movie moments. Although, he supposed it depended on the movie...
"Not much else." There was a sharp pop, and the bottle of champagne came into view. "'sides, we just made de most desperate plan in history work, and we brought everyone home. Dat sounds like a Hollywood ending to me." Remy took a long deep swallow from the bottle, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and passed it over for Nathan.
Nathan took the bottle, deciding not to comment. "Well, I'm looking forward to the credits rolling, anyway," he murmured.
"Someone," came Amanda's voice from behind them. "Owes me an eyebrow piercin'. 'M not sure who yet - I'll tell you when everythin' stops spinnin'." The witch half-leaned, half-sagged against the rail between the two men, looking exhausted. There was a fresh piece of white surgical tape over her eyebrow, care of Clarice who had been pleased that the only thing requiring her medic skills was fairly minor. "We," she continued with the solemnity of the very tired as she reached for the bottle in Nathan's hand. "Kicked arse. All over the place."
"Speak for yourself," Forge growled from the end of the railing where he'd been leaning and trying to stretch his back. "I'm going to need a damn chiropractor once we get back. Screw this 'smallest guy gets to go in the luggage' shit. Next time someone else gets to play human pretzel." He walked by, accepted the bottle from Amanda and took a swig. Just as quickly, he snorted most of it out into the Bellagio's fountain. "Bad idea. I'll be in my room."
"Going so soon?" Clarice asked, porting in to hear his last comment. "It's Vegas! We so deserve to celebrate!" she took the bottle Forge offered her, taking a long swig and making a face, "It's the city that never sleeps so why should we?"
With a sigh, Wanda leaned over Clarice's shoulder and snatched the bottle out of her hand. "A toast, I assume?" she asked, also stealing a small sip as she walked over to lean against the railing next to Remy. "To us, of course, and the grey hair we all now have." Knowingly, she held the bottle out and waited for the next person to make a grab for it.
Haroun walked up to the fountain, tapping out a last message on his Blackberry cellphone before placing it back on his belt and looking at the assembled horde of mutants. "Not bad. We should be dead, and I still can't believe we pulled it off, but nice job everyone." he said with a wide grin.
"I, for one, intend to sleep for a -week-." Doug didn't much even feel like talking right now. After a near-week of solid communication in all its myriad forms, he just wanted rest. He took the bottle gently from Wanda, and took a drink, shrugging. "To electronics, I guess. Couldn't have done it without a couple of generations of geeks making all those nice things for Forge and me to break into."
"To Robin Hood crimes," Terry chimed in, appropriating the bottle from Doug and downing a healthy amount. "And slot machines. Speaking of which..." she looked around and grinned when she spotted her quarry, "Hey, Nathan, I won you another hundred. I'll bet you all of it Sean breaks at least three things when he finds out about this!"
A burst of fireworks broke over their heads, lighting up the fountain in a variety of colours as Jubilee walked up to the assembled group.
She grabbed the bottle from Terry and took a swig.
"To never having to put another maid uniform on ever again. Cause, Dude, some of the people in that hotel, seriously gross. I won't even tell you about the bathrooms."
"So I've gone over everyone's travel plans," Nathan said, staring out at the fountain, "and Amanda and I are finding our own way back once she gets her recharge. I've heard a curious silence from you on the matter, though. Should we expect you back before 2005?"
"Soon." Remy smiled. "I'm going to stick around for a week or so. Make sure dat all de bases are covered in case Arcade keeps looking. Besides, since I'm a corpse, not like he's going to suspect me." His lopsided grin was infectious.
"I still think it was entirely unfair that Haroun got to be the one who shot you," Nathan said dryly. "You don't think I could pass as a mutant supremacist? I could pass as a mutant supremacist..." He took another swig of the champagne.
"Next time, you get to kill Remy, homme." Remy grinned. They were alive, they all made it. It was almost enough to make him fall apart.
"Promises, promises." Nathan looked sideways at him, his eyes narrowing. "Funny how we only returned $110 million to Arcade, rather than $120..."
"Dat right?" Remy said with a smile. "Funny dat. Guess math not Remy's best area." He slapped Nathan on the shoulder. "Get dem home, Nathan. I'll see you in a week."
Nathan handed over the champagne bottle, took one last look at the fountain, and then turned and walked away.
Remy took it, upended the bottle, and smiled as he looked at the fountain, alone again. "And dat's a wrap." He finished the bottle, tossed it into the spray, and walked away without a backwards glance.
"It's like a different place at night." Nathan leaned against the railing, looking at the banks of light reflecting off the water. The Bellagio's fountain was a massive curtain of cascading water and separate jets blasting in wide arcs. The lights turned the water ivory, its foam a frosty white. "Seems cleaner somehow."
"Dat's de illusion." Remy joined Nathan at the rail. "America's playground. Like dat Disneyland."
"Well," Nathan said with an only slightly forced chuckle, "we have just cleaned out a giant rat. Not nearly as friendly as Mickey, mind you..."
"See if Arcade is willing to wear dose big white gloves."
"Fuck." Nathan put his head down between his arms for a moment, trying to convince all the accumulated tension from the week to go away. He suspected it would take a couple of nights of solid sleep before that happened, though. "I do not believe we got away with that one."
"Luck, homme. We were due some good luck for one." Remy said, but for one his swirling mind was broadcasting, and Nathan could feel the sick relief in the other man.
Nathan straightened, taking a deep breath. Job was done. Time to shake it off. He had always fretted worse after the fact. It had driven GW nuts over the years. "Wonder what the others think?"
"Ask dem. Dey be along soon enough."
"How do you know?" Nathan asked curiously. He hadn't sensed anyone on their way up.
"Because, homme, it's de movie moment." Remy took a deep drag of his cigarette.
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "That's what you believe in?" he asked a bit skeptically. Mistrustfully, even. He didn't believe in movie moments. Although, he supposed it depended on the movie...
"Not much else." There was a sharp pop, and the bottle of champagne came into view. "'sides, we just made de most desperate plan in history work, and we brought everyone home. Dat sounds like a Hollywood ending to me." Remy took a long deep swallow from the bottle, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and passed it over for Nathan.
Nathan took the bottle, deciding not to comment. "Well, I'm looking forward to the credits rolling, anyway," he murmured.
"Someone," came Amanda's voice from behind them. "Owes me an eyebrow piercin'. 'M not sure who yet - I'll tell you when everythin' stops spinnin'." The witch half-leaned, half-sagged against the rail between the two men, looking exhausted. There was a fresh piece of white surgical tape over her eyebrow, care of Clarice who had been pleased that the only thing requiring her medic skills was fairly minor. "We," she continued with the solemnity of the very tired as she reached for the bottle in Nathan's hand. "Kicked arse. All over the place."
"Speak for yourself," Forge growled from the end of the railing where he'd been leaning and trying to stretch his back. "I'm going to need a damn chiropractor once we get back. Screw this 'smallest guy gets to go in the luggage' shit. Next time someone else gets to play human pretzel." He walked by, accepted the bottle from Amanda and took a swig. Just as quickly, he snorted most of it out into the Bellagio's fountain. "Bad idea. I'll be in my room."
"Going so soon?" Clarice asked, porting in to hear his last comment. "It's Vegas! We so deserve to celebrate!" she took the bottle Forge offered her, taking a long swig and making a face, "It's the city that never sleeps so why should we?"
With a sigh, Wanda leaned over Clarice's shoulder and snatched the bottle out of her hand. "A toast, I assume?" she asked, also stealing a small sip as she walked over to lean against the railing next to Remy. "To us, of course, and the grey hair we all now have." Knowingly, she held the bottle out and waited for the next person to make a grab for it.
Haroun walked up to the fountain, tapping out a last message on his Blackberry cellphone before placing it back on his belt and looking at the assembled horde of mutants. "Not bad. We should be dead, and I still can't believe we pulled it off, but nice job everyone." he said with a wide grin.
"I, for one, intend to sleep for a -week-." Doug didn't much even feel like talking right now. After a near-week of solid communication in all its myriad forms, he just wanted rest. He took the bottle gently from Wanda, and took a drink, shrugging. "To electronics, I guess. Couldn't have done it without a couple of generations of geeks making all those nice things for Forge and me to break into."
"To Robin Hood crimes," Terry chimed in, appropriating the bottle from Doug and downing a healthy amount. "And slot machines. Speaking of which..." she looked around and grinned when she spotted her quarry, "Hey, Nathan, I won you another hundred. I'll bet you all of it Sean breaks at least three things when he finds out about this!"
A burst of fireworks broke over their heads, lighting up the fountain in a variety of colours as Jubilee walked up to the assembled group.
She grabbed the bottle from Terry and took a swig.
"To never having to put another maid uniform on ever again. Cause, Dude, some of the people in that hotel, seriously gross. I won't even tell you about the bathrooms."
"So I've gone over everyone's travel plans," Nathan said, staring out at the fountain, "and Amanda and I are finding our own way back once she gets her recharge. I've heard a curious silence from you on the matter, though. Should we expect you back before 2005?"
"Soon." Remy smiled. "I'm going to stick around for a week or so. Make sure dat all de bases are covered in case Arcade keeps looking. Besides, since I'm a corpse, not like he's going to suspect me." His lopsided grin was infectious.
"I still think it was entirely unfair that Haroun got to be the one who shot you," Nathan said dryly. "You don't think I could pass as a mutant supremacist? I could pass as a mutant supremacist..." He took another swig of the champagne.
"Next time, you get to kill Remy, homme." Remy grinned. They were alive, they all made it. It was almost enough to make him fall apart.
"Promises, promises." Nathan looked sideways at him, his eyes narrowing. "Funny how we only returned $110 million to Arcade, rather than $120..."
"Dat right?" Remy said with a smile. "Funny dat. Guess math not Remy's best area." He slapped Nathan on the shoulder. "Get dem home, Nathan. I'll see you in a week."
Nathan handed over the champagne bottle, took one last look at the fountain, and then turned and walked away.
Remy took it, upended the bottle, and smiled as he looked at the fountain, alone again. "And dat's a wrap." He finished the bottle, tossed it into the spray, and walked away without a backwards glance.