Gift Fic: Snowed In (Marvel-verse, X-Men) PG-13
Author’s Note: This is a gift fic for mistress_o_muse for the 2011 Holiday Gift Fic Exchange. This one went a little weird on me, but I’m hoping it’s your kind of weird. Happy Holiday! Hope you enjoy.
This is the prompt she gave me:
A fandom: Marvel, specifically X-Men (I'll force myself away from Steve for five seconds, lol ;) )
A pairing, trio, or small group: How about Remy and Logan? *snicker*
A prompt: How would these two pass the time if they were stranded in a cabin in a snowstorm? Would they talk? Would they find an old bottle of liquor and down it? Would they try to kill each other? ;)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own any of the X-Men or the universe they live in. I am simply borrowing them for the sake of entertainment. I make no money from this work. I would rate this fic as PG-13 based on the use of adult subject matter and a bottle of liquor.
Snowed In
“Looks like we ain’t going nowhere.” Remy looked up from where he knelt, his hands full of clothing. He was almost finished repacking his duffel bag. He frowned. The others had already gone, heading down the mountain in a sturdy new SUV. But there hadn’t been room for both himself and Rogue’s latest fit of pique. “Truck won’t start and it smells like snow coming. A lot of snow.”
“You tink de others make it down safe?”
“Should. Wind’s blowing up from the other direction and they’ve got a good two hours head start by my reckoning.”
That was the Cajun’s fault. He’d been dragging his feet, taking his time getting dressed and packing up while Logan wandered in the snow on the pretext of getting the rusty old pick up truck ready for the return trip. Remy hadn’t wanted to give Rogue a chance to restart the argument that had tainted their last day of vacation with so much tension. And Logan always did seem to prefer the wilderness to city life.
“Gonna bring in as much wood as I can before the snow starts flyin’.” Logan rumbled and stepped back outside before Remy could respond. Silently the Cajun rose to follow him. He could carry in the firewood while Logan split it. After all, it was Remy who hated the cold and the more fuel they had for the fire, the better as far as he was concerned.
When the storm came, it was with a howl that shook the windows in their frames and seemed to suck all the warmth from the cabin.
“Sounds like a good one.” Logan cocked his head, listening.
“Sound like the screams of de damned.” Remy shivered.
“Ain’t nothing but a little wind, kid.” The older man bared teeth in a grin. “Don’t let yer imagination run away with ya.”
“You got no imagination, you don’t hear dat, mon ami.”
“Just the wind, Gumbo.” Logan settled down in an armchair near the fire and propped up his feet on a stool. He wriggled down in his seat as if snuggling into a comfy bed. Then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Jest relax. Ain’t nothin’ to be done fer it.”
“It make de skin on de back of my neck crawl.” Remy shuddered and started poking at the fire, trying to coax more warmth out of it. By the time he was satisfied, Logan was snoring loudly. “Merde.”
The howling sound went on for hours, wearing Remy’s nerves to the breaking point. And sucking the very warmth from his bones. He tried playing solitaire to pass the time and keep his mind off the wind. He tried reading some of the ten-year-old magazines someone had left behind. He tried playing the stupid little electronic game that Rogue had forgotten in her hasty packing. He played it until Logan roused to snap at him over the little noises it made.
“Turn that damned thing off. Can’t sleep with all that beeping.”
“Don’ see how you can sleep through all that wailing.” Remy replied, tossing the device aside angrily. He rose and began to pace, chafing his arms, trying to rub away the chill. “Dat gon’ drive me crazy if it keep up much longer.”
“Reckon I’m used to it.” Logan rose from his chair, stretching like a cat. He eyed his companion shrewdly. “You gettin’ cabin fever already, Gumbo?”
“Non. Just cold.”
“Humph.” Logan grunted skeptically and began poking around in the cupboards until he located a bottle of whiskey and a couple of shot glasses. He sat down at the kitchen table and poured a shot for each of them. “Siddown and have a drink before ya wear a hole in the floor with all that pacing.”
The Cajun did so, not speaking until after he’d swallowed the fiery stuff. It left his eyes watering and his voice harsh. “Merci. Just de ting.”
“Want another?” Logan held the bottle tilted over Remy’s glass.
“Oui.”
The older man watched the Cajun down the liquor in a single swallow. Then he took his time pouring a shot for himself. “Been wanting to ask ya something fer a while now, kid.”
“What’s dat?” The Cajun’s long fingers toyed with his glass, turning it in small circles so that the light glinted off the sides.
“Wondering why ya put up with all that…” Logan paused, blue eyes rolling up to meet Remy’s red on black ones. He lifted the glass to his lips and finished. “Drama.”
“Ain’t none of you business, homme.” Remy’s tone was cold and defensive.
“Reckon it is, seeing as how the rest of us gotta live with the two of ya going at it like cats and dogs half the time.”
“She a passionate woman.” Remy reached for the bottle and Logan relinquished it after a moment’s hesitation.
“She’s crazy as a loon, boy.” Logan raised one hand at Remy’s scowl. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the kid. Ain’t her fault. Damned power or hers. Voices in her head and all that.”
“She not crazy.” Remy began to pour another drink, but Logan reached over to take the bottle from him. There was a moment when it looked as if the Cajun would refuse to let go. But it was only a moment. “She just a bit emotional.”
“Emotional?” Logan snorted and poured himself another glass. “If she gets much more ‘emotional’ we’ll be pickin’ bits of you outta the carpet one day. Mebbe it’s you that’s crazy, Gumbo.”
“Remy don’ ask you advice.”
“Well yer getting it anyways.” Logan downed his shot with a grimace. “The two of you ain’t no good fer each other and the rest of us would like fer at least one of ya to wise up and do something about it. Was hoping you’d be the one with more sense.”
Remy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What really wrong with dat truck Logan? Dis a setup?”
“Told ya. Won’t start.” Logan shrugged.
“And dis blizzard just come up out of nowhere when Storm leave?” He rose from his seat angrily and resumed pacing. He pulled out a handful of cards without even thinking and began to shuffle them. “Split us up an’ try and talk ‘sense’ into dat damn fool Remy?” His voice dripped with anger and sarcasm.
“If it wasn’t affecting the team, it wouldn’t be nobody’s business but the two of ya. But it is.”
Remy’s pacing continued, now a way to channel his anger and frustration rather than nerves. Though that was there, too. The howling was almost enough to drown out the angry thudding of his footsteps on the varnished plank floors. “Dis supposed to be a vacation. Not a damned intervention.”
“Look, Remy. I don’t like being the one ta have this talk with ya any more than ya like hearing it. Coulda been worse. Coulda been Summers sittin’ here instead.”
Remy didn’t respond for a long time. His thoughts were hot and angry. He felt trapped, crowded, betrayed and beneath all that, embarrassed. Never mind that he’d had some of the same thoughts himself. That sometimes he himself didn’t know why he put up with it all. “I love her.”
“Love don’t conquer all kid. No matter what all them fairy tales say.”
The only reason he could give later for what he said next was that he was angry and unsettled. And he wanted to make Logan feel the same way. Or maybe fighting was just easier than talking.
“If you was a woman, Remy be thinkin’ this all a scheme to try an get in his pants.” The wind chose that moment to finally cease it’s wailing and the words dropped into an ear-ringing silence. He knew the moment the last word passed through his lips that it was a mistake. He braced himself, expecting the shorter man to come leaping over the table, to snarl at him. To do something.
Instead Logan stared at him, blue eyes piercing while he carefully refilled Remy’s glass then took a heavy pull directly from the bottle. As the silence lengthened, a slow chill of shock crept over the Cajun, chasing away the anger. The slickly stiff paper of the cards almost flew through his fingertips as his shuffling kept pace with his emotions.
“Logan?”
“Siddown and have another drink.” Logan took another swallow from the bottle before setting it down on the table with a soft thump. “Ain’t gonna bite. Or whatever it is yer thinking.”
Remy gave himself a little shake, then slipped the cards back in his pocket. He retook his seat warily and lifted the glass to his lips. He drained it in two swallows, watching his companion from the corner of his eye.
“What you sayin’, homme?”
“Ain’t saying nothin’.” Logan growled. “Ain’t nothin’ to say.”
They sat and drank together for another round. Remy’s thoughts traveled in circles. Logan watched him with an odd sort of patience, pouring him another drink when he slid the glass across the table. “You trying to get Remy drunk?”
“Mebbe.” Still playing the game, admitting nothing.
“Why?”
“Want ta hear the truth outta ya.”
“About what?”
“About why you stayin’ with a woman you can’t live with half the time and can’t touch most of the time.”
“Told you. I love her.” Remy reached out to take the glass, but Logan’s fingers still held it where it was. They were warm and calloused under the Cajun’s. “Dis a damn strange conversation.”
“Don’t I know it.” Logan chuckled and pulled his hand away.
“De truck - it not really broke, is it?”
“Didn’t say it was broke. Said it won’t start. Somebody done took the battery out.”
“The battery?” Remy couldn’t help but laugh. The alcohol was working its magic, loosening his muscles and his tongue. “What you gonna do if I lean over dis table an kiss you?”
“Why don’t ya try it and find out?”
“Not quite dat drunk yet.”
“Then here kid, have another.” Logan tilted the bottle over his glass one more time. Remy watched the liquid fall in a sparkling stream….
Epilogue:
In the end, it turned out Logan did lie about one small thing. He did bite.