One-Way Ticket On A Runaway Train - Chapter Fourteen
By late-morning the rain had stopped in time for them to squeeze in a little sightseeing before the first fashion show of the day. Strolling hand-in-hand along the Champs-Elysees toward the Arch de Triomphe, the two couples looked like any other typical young lovers enjoying the splendors of a late fall day in the City of Light. Finally stopping for lunch at a café along the Seine, the two men discussed strategy while the women perused the agenda for the Haute Couture Show - the grand finale of the fashion shows.
Rogue read out an impressive list of designers that would be represented - Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel, Donatella Versace, Valentino, John Galliano for Dior, Yves Saint Laurent and Christian Lacroix. Kitty’s head was spinning. This was definitely not mall clothes they were talking about.
“Where the hell are we ever gonna wear any of that stuff, Rogue? I mean seriously, can you see us flouncing around the mansion in a Chanel suit, wearing Jimmy Choo shoes and carrying a Hermes bag? Can we say overdressed?”
“Well, we have to buy something or we’ll blow our cover,” Rogue explained.
“Sure, Rogue, anything for the cover story. Just hope you can convince the Professor that’s the reason before he has a brain hemorrhage when he opens his charge card statement.”
“It’s his own fault. Letting us loose in the fashion capital of the world with a platinum American Express card was just asking for trouble,” Rogue giggled.
“Think you can convince Logan he looks nice in something besides denim and flannel and get him to buy something, too?” Kitty inquired.
Rogue shot a look over at Logan, who was looking mighty fine in black dress slacks, a cream-colored turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket, all part of his disguise.
“I think the man would look good in a burlap sack, so I’m probably the last one who could convincingly pretend I care about what he wears.”
“Maybe some of Scott’s style will rub off on him a little on this trip. I mean look, Logan’s already copying the turtleneck thing,” Kitty said, glancing over at Scott, who was impeccably tailored, as always, in dark brown slacks, a mocha-colored turtleneck sweater and a light brown raincoat.
“Yes, but if you notice, Logan hasn’t stopped tugging at the neckline, either,” Rogue laughed, “I think it’ll be a while before Logan becomes Mr. GQ.”
“So, what are you two discussing so intently?” Scott interrupted them.
“The mutant phenomenon and its impact on the world stage,” Rogue said seriously.
Logan and Scott exchanged a disbelieving look.
“Duh! I’m just kidding. What do you think we were talking about? Fashion, of course.”
“And its impact on us,” Kitty added.
“Wonder if the blue bitch will actually be at the Herman show this afternoon,” Logan said.
“Hermes, Logan, not Herman,” Rogue informed him with a giggle.
“Who gives a shit?” he responded.
“Good thing you didn’t go with the photographer story, if you can’t tell your Hermes from your Dolche and Gabbana,” Kitty said with a soft laugh.
“Dully and Garbwhoee?” Logan asked.
“Dolche and Gabbana. The Italian designers,” Kitty corrected, and then noting Logan still had a blank look on his face added, “Never mind.”
“Good thing he’s not being asked to pronounce Christian Lacroix,” Scott chuckled.
“Christian Lacrotch?” Logan asked, getting exasperated.
Rogue giggled. “Sugar, if anyone asks you who your favorite designer is, just say Prada.”
“Stupid designers with their stupid names. This is exactly why I buy all my clothes at Wal-Mart,” Logan mumbled.
“Ah, yes the fashion mecca for rednecks everywhere,” Scott noted.
“Ya know, Scooter, it’s gonna be real hard for you to sit this afternoon…. with my claw up your ass.”
“Boys!” Rogue warned in her best trying-to-stern voice.
“He started it,” Logan whined, pointing a finger at Scott.
“I don’t care who started it. Just as long as it stops right now,” Rogue warned, “And God help me, I sound just like my mamma.”
Logan proceeded to light up a post meal cigar and had just taken his first satisfying drag, when Scott complained.
“I really wish you wouldn’t smoke around Rogue. All that second-hand smoke isn’t good for my son,” he protested.
“We’re outside,” Logan proclaimed, gesturing to the sky.
“It’s still blowing in her direction. Every time she inhales, the smoke goes right down into the womb. All the books say how dangerous it is for pregnant women to be around people who smoke.”
Logan leaned over and dropped the cigar into Scott’s soda.
“There you go. Happy now?” he asked.
“I wasn’t done with that,” Scott informed him.
“Yeah, well you are now,” he retorted.
Rogue and Kitty just shook their heads and rolled their eyes at the antics.
Just then the waiter appeared with the bill. Logan took it, glanced at the total and went pale.
“525 francs…for lunch? Holy crap.”
Scott just started laughing. “Logan, there are seven francs to the dollar. It’s only about $75.”
“That’s still a lot just for lunch,” he stated.
“Well, some of us aren’t content with Burger King everyday,” Scott replied.
“You just ate a burger for…” Logan peered at the bill, “105 francs. What the hell’s the difference between that and a 99-cent Whopper?”
“Point taken,” Scott relented, as he realized he’d just eaten a $15 hamburger.
Kitty looked at her watch. “Hey, guys, if we shake a leg, we still have time to go up the Eiffel Tower before the show.”
Logan let out a low groan. “Mystique couldn’t have surfaced somewhere boring where there were no tourist attractions.”
“Oh, quit your grousing. It’ll be fun,” Rogue said.
“Too bad throwing myself off the top wouldn’t kill me,” he moaned.
“If that were a possibility, I’d give you a shove myself,” Scott told him.
“Yeah, well I’d grab a hold of your pansy designer sweater and take you with me.”
Rogue turned to Kitty “It’s worse than having a couple of five year-olds.”
“I’ve been a bad boy, maybe you should spank me later,” Logan said mischievously, cocking his eyebrow at her.
“Logan, what am I gonna do with you?”
“I just gave you a suggestion.”
Kitty tapped her watch impatiently. “The Eiffel Tower, people, let’s move it.”
~*~*~*
At the Eiffel Tower the group paid their 65 francs each and took the elevators to the observation deck. Looking out over the city they were clearly able to see the white dome of the Sacre Coeur on Montmartre hill and the Bastille, which Rogue explained was the site of the start of the French Revolution, when the public overthrew it on July 14, 1789. Then she pointed out the pink Obelisk of Luxor in the Place de La Concorde, where Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were beheaded. Logan listened patiently, trying to show enthusiasm in the things that Rogue found interesting. Realizing how difficult it was for him, she appreciated the effort. What did catch his eye was a statute on a small island in the middle of the Seine River, just to the left of where they were standing. It was a miniature version of the Statute of Liberty. He tapped Rogue on the shoulder and pointed out the copy of the famous landmark.
“Well, she may be a magnificent piece of architecture, but I don’t exactly have fond memories of my last visit to the New York version.”
“I’m just glad I was there that night.”
“Me, too. Without you, I’d be dead.”
“And without you, I wouldn’t have anything worth living for. You’re everything to me. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you in May when you had your breakthrough, but I promise to make it up to you.”
“You already have, Logan, by being so supportive of me during this whole …situation.”
“Well, thanks to you, I haven’t gutted and disemboweled Scott…yet.”
“I think keeping the Wolverine part of you in check could be a full-time job.”
“You’ve tamed the savage beast by making me happy with my life. No one has ever been able to do that before.”
“It’s a job I love, what can I say?”
Logan sensing he had just the opening he was looking for decided to take the opportunity presented. Reaching into the inside pocket of the leather jacket, he retrieved the small box he’d acquired on a secret shopping trip earlier.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Marie. Because you do such an amazing job making me happy, I was wondering if maybe you’d be interested in having that job for the rest of your life?”
Holding out the small velvet Van Cleef & Arpels box, he continued, as he dropped to one knee.
“The dog tag you wear as my girlfriend, but I’d like you to wear this as my fiancee. Marie, will you marry me?”
With that, Logan flipped open the box to reveal a two-carat emerald cut ring set in platinum.
Rogue was too stunned to say anything, as the tears filled her eyes, so she simply launched herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.
“I take it that means ‘yes’?” Logan asked, as he wrapped his arms around her.
Rogue just nodded her head ‘yes’. Taking her hand, he slipped the ring on her finger as she crushed her mouth to his. The people around them who’d witnessed the proposal burst into a round of applause. Scott and Kitty came around the corner to find Logan bending down, Rogue in his lap kissing him and people clapping.
“I guess it’s too much to hope that he promised the crowd he’d do a swan dive off the top and she’s kissing him goodbye,” Scott said.
Logan and Rogue finally broke apart and she proudly displayed her engagement ring to Kitty and Scott. Kitty squealed and gave Rogue a hug, while Scott kissed her on the cheek and offered his congratulations.
“Not to cut this short, but we better go now, if we wanna make it to the Hermes show,” Scott informed them, as he checked his watch.
~*~*~*
At the show, the four took seats at the back so as not to be too obvious and Logan immediately began scanning the crowd of socialites, buyers, photographers and other assorted fashion show attendees. It wasn’t long before he’d targeted Mystique.
“Got her,” he announced.
“Where? Which one?” Scott asked.
“The Claudia Schiffer look-alike in the second row from the stage,” Logan replied.
“Claudia Schiffer?” Rogue asked, surprised, “You don’t know your Badgley Mischka from your Akira Isogawa, but supermodels you know?”
“It’s a guy thing. I’ll prove it. Hey, Scott, who are the two models on the stage right now?”
“Stephanie Seymour and Naomi Campbell,” Scott answered immediately.
“See. It’s a guy thing. Although, I’m sure he probably couldn’t tell you the names of the shoes they’re wearing,” Logan said.
“Actually, they look like Ferragamo’s or Manolo Blahnik’s,” he replied.
“The fact that you do know that, quite frankly scares me,” Logan responded.
“Then you’d really be worried if I told you Stephanie was wearing a Bulgari necklace,” Scott said.
“When we get home, I’m taking you to Wal-Mart, buying you a tool belt and making you start fixing shit around the mansion,” Logan told him.
“I work on my bike. Don’t act like I don’t do manly things,” Scott complained.
“Who the hell takes a bike apart while wearing dress slacks? You really need to lighten up and learn to relax, Scott. Try putting on a pair of jeans sometime, preferably Levi’s, and not some designer ones by Herman.”
“Hermes,” Scott corrected, “and they don’t even make jeans.”
“Thank God,” Logan replied.
“Excuse me,” Rogue interjected, “not to interrupt this scintillating discussion, but we need to focus here. What are we gonna do about Mystique?”
“You aren’t gonna do anything. After the show Scott’s taking you and Kitty back to the hotel where it’s safe. I’ll follow Mystique and find out where she’s holed up.”
“I think I should go with you,” Scott said.
“No. I wanna make sure the girls have at least one of us with them for protection at all times. Chuck would throw a fit if he thought we’d left them unguarded for even a minute. Anyway, last time she saw me I looked different, so chances are she won’t recognize me, making it easier for me to follow her.”
“Logan, be careful. Remember the Professor said she may not be alone,” Rogue reminded him.
“I can handle the blue bitch and her little friends.”
“Come on, girls, I’ll take you for some patisseries,” Scott said, hoping to placate them.
Rogue leaned over and gave Logan a kiss. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Scott then steered both girls out of the showroom with a final nod to Logan.
In his peripheral vision, Logan caught Mystique exiting out the other side of the showroom and followed after her quickly. Staying at a comfortable distant in hopes she wouldn’t realize she was being tailed, he waited a moment before exiting out of the same side door she’d just used to slip out of the building. He found himself in a narrow alley and just as he let go of the door he was slammed roughly against the brick wall.
Mystique had her hands planted firmly on his chest and did an obvious survey of him from head to foot.
“God, Wolverine, you look positively delicious,” she said wickedly.
“Nice disguise yourself,” Logan replied sarcastically.
“You like?” she asked, releasing him and striking a pose.
“Don’t you think you went a little overboard in the tits department?” he asked, gesturing at her well-endowed figure.
“Wolvie, you didn’t follow me into this alley to discuss my boobs. What do you want?”
“I wanna know what you’re doing in Paris,” he replied, stating the obvious.
“I’m attending the fashion shows. What does it look like? A girl has to stay up on the latest trends, don’t you know?”
“You’re here to attend the shows about as much as I am. Quit bullshitting me, Mystique, I’m not known for my patience,” Logan warned.
Mystique just chortled. “I have no intention of telling you anything.” And then added, “Unless, of course, we can come to some sort of ‘understanding’ and then I may be willing to toss you a morsel of information.”
“Understanding? What kind of understanding?” he asked, puzzled.
Mystique stepped forward until she was right in Logan’s face. He felt her breath against his face as her hand pressed lightly against his crotch.
“One that could be very pleasurable for both of us,” she whispered.
Logan let out a low laugh. “So if I fuck you, then you’ll tell me what I wanna know? What if I decide to beat it out of you instead?”
“You won’t,” Mystique replied confidently, as she ran one hand over his chest and applied more pressure to his groin with the other.
“Are you really sure about that?”
“Fuck me or fight me … you’re a man. I would’ve thought that choice was a no-brainer.”
“And what if I service you and you still won’t tell me shit?” he asked.
“The worst that could happen is that you have a very pleasant afternoon. Come on, Wolverine, take the risk,” Mystique challenged.
“I already have a girlfriend.”
“Little Rogue? Sweetheart, you need a woman not a child. You can do things with me that you’ve only fantasized about doing with her. Trust me, I’m a very talented woman.”
Mystique continued caressing his crotch and to Logan’s dismay his body was responding to her touch. Noting the effect she was having on him, she ran her tongue along his jawline as her hands undid the belt and popped open the button of his slacks. Yanking down the zipper, she dropped to her knees in front of him.