El Tango de Roxanne [Open]
Being on board the ship for as long as he had had begun to wear on Remy, making him incredibly stir-crazy. He'd been down to the city. He'd seen the statuary. He'd perused the media library. But there was only so much exploring a man could do before it became tedious. Only so many statues he could look at. Only so much sitting on his butt watching movies and television or listening to music that he could do. Even practicing his skills in the sensorium had become boring. Remy needed something to do. He needed...to go out...to socialize in a more comfortable setting (i.e. one not made out of pulsing flesh).
But since there was no way off the ship, there was only one way to actually 'go out.'
Stepping into an empty sensorium, Remy watched as the fleshy surroundings of Stacy were washed away and replaced with a large banquet hall. The walls were of white marble. The windows--which stretched from the ceiling down to the pristine wood floors--were framed by majestic purple drapes. Ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the hall in a sparkling light. Several rows of round tables, covered in white linen and topped with a pair of lit candles each, lined the walls, creating an empty circle that was the dance floor in the middle. In one corner stood a black grand piano and a small string orchestra that filled the room with music.
In the middle of the dance floor, ringed by several dancing couples, was a rather angry looking woman wearing a red dress standing with her white-gloved hands on her hips. Her dark brown hair, with the very recognizable white streak in it, rested on her bare shoulders. He felt his heart jump in his chest.
Realizing he was nowhere near dressed for this kind of going out, Remy turned only to discover that he was no longer wearing his plant suit and brown duster. Instead, he was clad in a dapper-looking suit, the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, exposing a bit of his chest, and a red silk scarf hung freely from his neck.
"Now dis more like it," Remy said with a pleased grin and began to saunter over to the all-too-familiar brunette.
"Gambit! Where in tarnation have you been?!" she demanded when he was a few feet away. "You make me git all dolled up fer a night out and then you have the nerve to leave me standin' here fer twenty minutes waitin' on yer butt? Were you raised in a barn or somethin'?"
"Non, chere," Remy replied, still drawing nearer, his lips frozen into a flirtatious smile. "You know Gambit make it up to you. He always do."
"Yeah, well that ain't good 'nough. You think you kin ask a girl out and then take yer time showin' up so you go off lolly-gaggin' around like some kinda..."
Remy cut her off, surprising her as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, pressing her body against his. "Calm down, mon chere," he said, his voice low and soft. "I was a little nervous, dat's all. You have dat effect on ole Gambit. Or didn't you know dat?"
She looked up at him, her cheeks flushing lightly and her words seemingly caught in her throat for a moment. "Ah...Ah do?" she asked, uncertainly. "I mean...no, I didn't know...I mean...." She then pulled away, taking a step back and putting some space between them.
"Gosh darnit why you gotta be like that?"
"Like what, chere?" he asked, his grin widening. The charm appeared to be working. So far. In the corner, the string orchestra concluded its song and the opening notes of Por Una Cabeza filled the room.
"Like you," she answered, pulling away and folding her arms across her chest.
"Awww, come on, Rogue," Remy pleaded. "You know you like it."
"That's what you think," she said, stubbornly resisting to be swayed. "Ah got half a mind to knock you into next Christmas."
He grinned again. "Dat could be fun, non?"
She scoffed. "You are the most impossible pain in the butt...," she said, brushing past him angrily as she headed for the door. Before she got too far, Remy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to him.
"What do you think yer doin'?" she protested.
"I tryin' to ask you to dance, chere. But you don't let me."
"Dance?! Are you outta yer gumbo-lovin' mind?" Rogue said, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away. With her super-strength it would have been easy for her. Which meant, to Gambit, that she didn't really want him to let her go.
"Only for you, mon chere," he confessed just as the music reached its dramatic crescendo. With one sudden movement, Remy pulled her to him, pressing her body against his as he began to lead her through the tango. Through the build-up, his steps where slow and deliberate, tenderly leading her through delicate sways and gentle turns. But as the passionate climax hit, his movements became faster and more abrupt. Each dip and each turn was more passionate. Each spin and each step out was accompanied with a bigger smile. Each time he drew her back to him was done with more desire.
He fiery red eyes remained locked on hers, watching as the light from the chandeliers glistened in them, and seeing what appeared to be joy staring back at him. This was what he had wanted for so long but couldn't have. This was what he'd been hoping for, one moment alone with Rogue with the barrier that were her powers forgotten, ignored, unimportant. Just one moment when...
...and then she was gone.
Maybe it was because the realization that this wasn't real had popped back into his head. Or maybe it was his own way of subconsciously punishing himself. Whatever it was, whatever had caused, in the middle of a dramatic dip, Rogue had vanished...and Gambit now stood alone in the middle of the dance floor.
But since there was no way off the ship, there was only one way to actually 'go out.'
Stepping into an empty sensorium, Remy watched as the fleshy surroundings of Stacy were washed away and replaced with a large banquet hall. The walls were of white marble. The windows--which stretched from the ceiling down to the pristine wood floors--were framed by majestic purple drapes. Ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the hall in a sparkling light. Several rows of round tables, covered in white linen and topped with a pair of lit candles each, lined the walls, creating an empty circle that was the dance floor in the middle. In one corner stood a black grand piano and a small string orchestra that filled the room with music.
In the middle of the dance floor, ringed by several dancing couples, was a rather angry looking woman wearing a red dress standing with her white-gloved hands on her hips. Her dark brown hair, with the very recognizable white streak in it, rested on her bare shoulders. He felt his heart jump in his chest.
Realizing he was nowhere near dressed for this kind of going out, Remy turned only to discover that he was no longer wearing his plant suit and brown duster. Instead, he was clad in a dapper-looking suit, the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, exposing a bit of his chest, and a red silk scarf hung freely from his neck.
"Now dis more like it," Remy said with a pleased grin and began to saunter over to the all-too-familiar brunette.
"Gambit! Where in tarnation have you been?!" she demanded when he was a few feet away. "You make me git all dolled up fer a night out and then you have the nerve to leave me standin' here fer twenty minutes waitin' on yer butt? Were you raised in a barn or somethin'?"
"Non, chere," Remy replied, still drawing nearer, his lips frozen into a flirtatious smile. "You know Gambit make it up to you. He always do."
"Yeah, well that ain't good 'nough. You think you kin ask a girl out and then take yer time showin' up so you go off lolly-gaggin' around like some kinda..."
Remy cut her off, surprising her as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, pressing her body against his. "Calm down, mon chere," he said, his voice low and soft. "I was a little nervous, dat's all. You have dat effect on ole Gambit. Or didn't you know dat?"
She looked up at him, her cheeks flushing lightly and her words seemingly caught in her throat for a moment. "Ah...Ah do?" she asked, uncertainly. "I mean...no, I didn't know...I mean...." She then pulled away, taking a step back and putting some space between them.
"Gosh darnit why you gotta be like that?"
"Like what, chere?" he asked, his grin widening. The charm appeared to be working. So far. In the corner, the string orchestra concluded its song and the opening notes of Por Una Cabeza filled the room.
"Like you," she answered, pulling away and folding her arms across her chest.
"Awww, come on, Rogue," Remy pleaded. "You know you like it."
"That's what you think," she said, stubbornly resisting to be swayed. "Ah got half a mind to knock you into next Christmas."
He grinned again. "Dat could be fun, non?"
She scoffed. "You are the most impossible pain in the butt...," she said, brushing past him angrily as she headed for the door. Before she got too far, Remy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back to him.
"What do you think yer doin'?" she protested.
"I tryin' to ask you to dance, chere. But you don't let me."
"Dance?! Are you outta yer gumbo-lovin' mind?" Rogue said, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away. With her super-strength it would have been easy for her. Which meant, to Gambit, that she didn't really want him to let her go.
"Only for you, mon chere," he confessed just as the music reached its dramatic crescendo. With one sudden movement, Remy pulled her to him, pressing her body against his as he began to lead her through the tango. Through the build-up, his steps where slow and deliberate, tenderly leading her through delicate sways and gentle turns. But as the passionate climax hit, his movements became faster and more abrupt. Each dip and each turn was more passionate. Each spin and each step out was accompanied with a bigger smile. Each time he drew her back to him was done with more desire.
He fiery red eyes remained locked on hers, watching as the light from the chandeliers glistened in them, and seeing what appeared to be joy staring back at him. This was what he had wanted for so long but couldn't have. This was what he'd been hoping for, one moment alone with Rogue with the barrier that were her powers forgotten, ignored, unimportant. Just one moment when...
...and then she was gone.
Maybe it was because the realization that this wasn't real had popped back into his head. Or maybe it was his own way of subconsciously punishing himself. Whatever it was, whatever had caused, in the middle of a dramatic dip, Rogue had vanished...and Gambit now stood alone in the middle of the dance floor.