xp_logs | Log: Remy/Cain

Remy gets home to the boathouse and ends up chatting with Cain for a while. The conversation goes places that Remy didn't want to go and Cain certainly didn't want to hear. Oh, and Elvis.

Home sweet home, Remy thought with a grim smile as he tossed his bags on his bed. The last three weeks had gone by at a white hot burn, between Pete's defection and the vast amount of work still waiting to be done if the mansion was going to have any kind of network after this.

Remy firmed pushed the thoughts out of his head as he wandered back into the living room of the boathouse, seeing Cain lounging on the couch with a beer in one hand and football highlights on the television.

"Evening," the big man belched out, watching the grainy footage of Joe Namath tossing a perfect spiral. "Didn't expect you back for another week or so. Chuck mentioned Europe. Get done what you needed to?" He motioned absently to the kitchen. "Beer's in the fridge."

Remy nodded and wandered into the kitchen, pulling a longneck out from the bottom rack. "Not exactly. Wasn't expecting a full on betrayal, you know." His tone was light, but it didn't cover the bitterness underneath. "Dis one is going to hurt us." Remy came back into the living room, passing a fresh beer to Cain as he sat down.

Cain just shrugged, popping the cap off the beer. "Wisdom's old man got murdered, he offed the guy who did it, who happened to be the rich and powerful dad of our resident junior brainfucker. If he's staying out there in the cold," Cain gave another expressive shrug, "more's the pity to him. If he wants to try and take a shot at this place next, he'll be carried out in a pine box, same as the last folks. Simple as that."

"White King of de fucking Hellfire Club, Cain." Remy added, not sure whether or not Marko was aware. "Dat means dat not only has he sold us out, but all dose friends and allies dat de Professor built up are now in dere hands." Remy took a long drink.

Cain arched an eyebrow. "So what? End result's still the same. Wisdom comes here trying to start shit, or anyone else - they'll be leaving in pieces. Hellfire or not, no one's going to be a threat here."

"Assuming we even know what he's doing. Hell, half of de intelligence for dis school came through Wisdom. Dat means besides blinding us on his ratfuck activities, we also lose lots of our resources on people like dat Magneto and others." Remy shook his head. "Imagine if someone went in a removed half of de support beams in de mansion? Dat's what dis is like for me."

"So you fix it," Cain stated. "Wisdom had to start from somewhere. And it ain't like you're some babe in the woods here. Chuck gave you that job for a reason, he's got trust in your skills to do it. He knows you're not going to half-ass it." He took a long pull in his beer, then gestured to Remy with the bottle. "Much as you ain't often around, you know what this place means. And you know how to keep it safe, in your way. So there's an obstacle. Get over it, around it, or through it."

Remy rubbed his eyes and nodded. "Oui, dats right." He shook his head ruefully. "Just never expected dat. Pete going over to de Hellfire Club was right up dere wit' you joining de leather brigade in likelihood."

"Expect the unexpected around here, eh?" Cain smiled and held up his fingers in turn, announcing, "Me, Colbert, Ramsey, Lee, Shiro, Guthrie? Chuck's going to have to think about fielding an entire new team. All-new, all-different X-Men, eh?" He shrugged once more, finishing his beer and tossing the bottle over into the wastebasket. "Tell you honestly, I never cared for Wisdom. Got everything that's wrong about you, but he never gave a damn about anyone but himself. Shows by what he did. Let him do his White King thing. He'll burn himself out."

"Dat assumes I don't get him first." Remy said darkly. "If I get a shot, Cain, I'm taking him all de way out. Don't give a fuck what Xavier thinks." Remy took another swallow of his beer, trying to shake his mood.

Cain thought of that for a moment, then just shook his head. "No."

"Don't remember asking for your permission either, Cain." Remy finished off his beer. "Or seeing a good reason not to, for dat matter."

Marko leaned forward, trying to keep his demeanor calm. "Because Wisdom's gone and turned into everything you used to be, Remy. A bastard murderer who don't hold nothing sacred but himself. The whole reason you're here, the whole reason Chuck convinced me not to pull your scrawny Cajun head right off your neck is that you're trying to be better. Because you convinced him, convinced me, that you give a damn about being better than you used to be. Wisdom comes after you, or anyone here - then by all means, cancel the son of a bitch." He leveled a finger at his housemate, serious as death, "But you go after him, you take that road? You ain't got a place to come back to, and you know as well as I do how alone you're gonna be out in the cold."

Remy clamped down hard on his instinctive reaction to tell Cain to go to hell, actually considering what he said. As much as he hated it, Marko did have a point. A major part of LeBeau's anger was a feeling of personal betrayel. Wisdom had proven that someone could pull themselves out of the shit life he had, and Remy had secretly considered it proof that he could do the same. To see Pete revert back was like a condemnation that he was destined to do the same. "I'll," Remy paused for a long moment. "think about it, oui?"

Cain nodded. "That's all it takes. The difference between you and him. Tiny as it is," he chuckled, "you got yourself a conscience. Wisdom sold his for revenge. I ain't agreein' with the choice he made, losin' his family so he goes and puts Manuel in the same spot. Anyone's got a right to go after Wisdom, it's that boy." Cain thought silently for a moment, then nodded. "But he knows better. Wisdom slipped by the X-Men like a fucking ghost to get to De La Rocha, same way I saw the damn Montagnards do back in Hanoi. Same way you did when you got here, all raising hell. Going after him direct? No guarantee anyone, even you, stand a chance. And as White King?" Cain laughed, "Big fish there. But the thing about the big fish is that he finds himself with precious little places to hide, don't he?"

"I hope so. I'm damn good Cain, and Remy still give even odds whether or not I could beat Wisdom." Remy padded back into the kitchen for another couple of beers, dropping them off on the coffee table. "Gives me 'nother reason to make life difficult for de Club. Dat's one of de fun parts."

Cain just steepled his fingers and smiled. "Sebastian Shaw's part of that little bunch, ain't he?" he asked. "I believe he and I need to have a little sit-down one of these days about how to take a refusal properly."

"Try to leave enough left to mail back." Remy opened the second beer. "Oh, did a little digging on your banker friend. He's disappeared down a hole and pulled it closed behind him. Dat tells me dat he's got professional help."

"Appreciate it," Marko nodded, "Wouldn't surprise me if Shaw put him up to it, but that don't seem to be his style. He seemed content with trying the bullet-to-the-head approach, which failed as it may have been, tends to irritate me a tad. Cameron..." Cain seethed quietly, flexing his hands. "He'll stick his head up soon enough. And I'll be waiting."

"Hope so. I'll keep de feelers out. Dat Jake has good connections wit de banks, and dat kind of money has to leave a trail somewhere." Remy nodded, leaning back on the couch. "Good to know dat we got so many enemies out dere. Now all we need to do is start adding ex-wives or something to have a full set."

Trying to wrap his brain around the concept of anyone desperate enough to become "Mrs. Gambit", Cain had to snicker at that one. "My money's on al-Rashid for that one. Don't they have like six or seven wives over there? Who knows how many he's got back home?"

"When dat Alison gets done wit' him? He's going to be all cybernetic." Remy laughed, taking another drink. "Sure dat we don't have any secret Mormons on de staff? Maybe someone like dat Bartlet, hiding her secret past."

"Fine figure of a woman, that one." Cain mused for a moment. "But if she's got some secret romance goin' on, heh, I just don't see it happening."

Remy suddenly became very interested in his beer bottle. "Uh, oui. Reminds me. She's not, you know, crazy or something? Used to be mind controlled or anything dat you know of?"

Thinking for a moment, Cain frowned. "Nope. In all this crazy, she's bog-standard normal. Refreshing, really. Nice and safe and dependable. That's Doc Maddie, all right."

"Right. Safe and dependable." Remy muttered. "Uh, see, de thing is dat sometimes she acts a little weird." The fights between Remy and Madelyn were becoming legendary in the mansion, to the point that any time they were in the same room together, people started heading for the hill since any excuse was enough to start a screaming match.

Cain yawned, leaning back on the couch. "Who doesn't, around here? Maddie's a good kid, though. If you two weren't liable to kill each other whenever one of you says the first thing to the other, I'd say you ought to take her out sometime.” Remy choked on his beer. “Good calming influence, all that." He shrugged absently. "Then again, never can tell."

"See, dats kind of de problem." Remy mentally gritted his teeth before plunging in. "About a month ago, after de whole Youra thing, de femme basically jumped me in my office."

Eyes still closed, Cain arched an eyebrow. "Now I know you mean that she tried to attack you with a letter opener or something. You dropped a cigarette in her pet fern or something. Right?" He opened his eyes, half-sitting up. "Right?"

"Well, to be fair, she did slap me a couple of times. Dat is when she wasn't trying to stick her tongue into my lungs." Remy winced and covered his eyes with one hand. "Since den, it just seems to happen. One minute we're screaming at each other and de next... uh, well, don't get your towels from de upstairs linen closet, oui?"

"Aw, jesus..." Cain moaned, pulling a pillow over his head. "I don't need to hear this!" After a second, he peered out cautiously. "Way I hear from rumors the kids are telling, you may have one or more blue folks paying you a visit in the wee hours if this gets out, you realize."

"De worst part? We still don't even like each other!" Remy said, venting with obvious frustration. "Spend de whole time yelling at each other before, during and after. I tell you, homme, dat woman is dead crazy."

"Dames..." Cain spat out, shaking his head. "I've known a million of 'em, and ain't never understood a one. So," he asked with a conspiratorial grin, "how long you think you two can keep this up before everyone figures it out? Especially those kids who can smell a gnat's fart halfway across an auditorium?"

"Homme, if I'm very lucky, dere's not going to be any more times. De last thing dat I need is to look like I'm sniffing after de Blues brothers' leftovers, you know?" Remy shook his head wearily. "Dis was so much easier when I thought I was eighteen."

"If you don't want the trouble," Cain advised, "just keep it in your pants, LeBeau. Can't be that difficult. Last thing you need is someone walking in on you and the doc making time in a storage closet somewhere. Hell, there's probably a list of folks who'd want the first shot at you, and only so many places even you can hide."

"Figured dat I'd just put you in de doorway and hide behind it." Remy said wryly. "Maybe one of de boys will restore her brain, so dat Remy be safe from her again. Still," Remy paused and took a reflective. "she is one hell of a kisser."

"Didn't need to know!" Cain insisted, getting up and stalking over to the kitchen. "God, they don't make alcohol strong enough to cleanse THOSE images out of my brain..."

"Just wait until you get your relationship assignment, homme." Remy caught Cain's puzzled look and went on. "My theory dat as soon as anyone single hits de mansion, dey draw a relationship from de hat, it seems. Dere more happy couples in dis place den in a Vegas chapel."

"I'll pass," Cain growled, "I already gotta deal with not knowing whether or not I'm still gonna live forever, rather not add any extra baggage along to that boat." He cracked another beer, draining the entire bottle in one long pull. "Leave that shit to you kids. I got enough problems as is."

"Kid? Hell, seems dat I'm now one of den oldest people here, after you, de Professor, and de Daysprings." Remy said, a smile breaking his features. "Guess I need to start bitching 'bout todays music or something."

"I would," Cain admitted, "but I ain't exactly ready to go advertising that I can eat off the seniors menu, y'know?"

"Dat and your taste in music is fucking awful anyhow. Oh, and lurking outside of de music room when dat Alison is practicing? Everyone knows dat you not there to adjust de baseheaters, so you can leave de toolbox from now on." Remy's grin grew, having caught sight of Cain once with a rapt expression on his face the once.

Marko sneered openly at that one. "Fuck you, she's still got good music. You're just jealous that you didn't get your own CD for your birthday." He pointed a finger accusingly, "And don't think you're off the hook with the Bartlet situation. Something like that's gonna come bite you in the ass one of these days. Least you're being discreet about it."

"Discreet? Homme, I'm doing everything but running to keep away from it." Remy said. "Dat McCoy and Wagner do everything up to worshiping de ground she walks on going after her, and I'm de one she decides sparks her engine! Dat femme going to get Remy into a round of punchface."

Cain snorted, smiling at that mental image. "At least your sweetie can put you back together after those two take you apart. Worse fates."

"Not. My. Sweetie." Remy said with great deliberation. "Remy not a masochist, you know. 'sides, didn't you have something going on wit' dat Wanda a while ago?"

Cain arched an eyebrow, wondering how that particular rumor had spread. "Circumstances otherwise, wouldn't turn her out of bed, gotta admit. But nah - ain't a woman here that remembers when Elvis wasn't on the oldies station, when cars weren't mostly fiberglass and plastic, and when a guy opening the door for a lady was a sign of politeness and not some kinda patriarchal oppression." He rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Ain't my time no more. Don't see the purpose of it, really. Just settin' myself up for disappointment is all it'd be."

"Dat's gloomy. Maybe what you need is a femme dat likes old men." Remy grinned. "Or Elvis."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

x-pete.livejournal.com

Things Pete Wisdom Would Say If He Was Around To Have The Conversation (#1 in a series):

>>>Wisdom had proven that someone could pull themselves out of the shit life he had<<<

"For fuck's sake, if you don't like it, stop. No one is forcing you to do a damn thing but you and your guilty bastard consience. If you've got some idiot need to balance the scales, or something, then one: talk to Nate, who finally figured that it's pointless at long bloody last, and two: don't whine about how the past fucking haunts you and you can't escape what you were, and you see all the old ghosts and the rest of that rubbish, because it just makes you sound like a big girl."

From:

x-juggernaut.livejournal.com

"And this has been Lessons in Ethics, from the White King of the Hellfire Club. Sponsored by Enron and MCI/Worldcom."

From:

x-pete.livejournal.com

"Where do ethics come into this? This is just about not being fucking *boring*. Do you have any idea the number of whinging bastards there are out there? 'Oh, I used to be a bad person, and now I've got better, but god I was so awful, and I can't ever escape that...' Any women stupid enough to fall for that sort of routine are probably very boring in bed, anyway, so what's the fucking point in it?"