. III .
Another two days later and finally he was back down south and feeling more at home, but not just a little jet-lagged. Now Rogue, he thought to himself, you better be here, if you’re quite done wit’ torturin’ me.
He was taking care not to complain too much.
He felt he kind of deserved it.
He hitched a rise with some smelly trucker, who only had a vague idea of whereabouts Rogue’s address actually was. It turned out to be in some rural backwater part, a place where Remy figured he’d easily be able to find her. And so he had got off on a certain dirt track, thinking that, apart from anything else, he couldn’t spend another moment in that putrid truck. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Finding himself out in the middle of nowhere, meant that it was easier for him to get lost, and whoever he did manage to ask seemed to be helpful until he realized that they had just about as much of an idea of where he was looking for as he did. Darkness fell, and he managed to scrounge a place to stay for the night from an elderly couple living in what seemed to be a shack – the next morning he set out at six to avoid causing them too much hassle.
He decided he might as well enjoy himself while he was at it, strolling along in the woods, walking by the lake. And then he came upon it almost by chance. Jake’s Place, a biker’s garage, hidden in an enclave off a beaten track, partially covered by trees. Not looking spanking new and clean, but cosy enough, inviting almost. He stepped inside the wooden building, ringing the bell attached to the door as he did so. A man came out seemingly from nowhere, appraising him with narrow eyes.
“Can I help you, son?” he asked gruffly.
“Lookin’ for a girl by de name of Anna,” Remy answered easily. “Heard she was stayin’ here. I’m a friend o’ hers. She might’ve mentioned me.”
“Oh, so you’re that LeBuff fellow,” the man’s eyes narrowed even further, as if he didn’t like the look of Remy at all. Remy was used to getting that reaction from men. After a moment of staring each other out the man looked away, rubbing his hands on his grimy pants. “She’s out back, stayin’ in the guest house. S’ outside on the left. An’ mind the steps.”
“Thanks,” Remy replied, sauntering off back out the door and round to the back of the building. Attached to the garage was a small wooden building, looking the worse for wear, but otherwise pleasant. He wondered whether it was because he knew Rogue was inside. He suddenly hung back, uncertain. He didn’t quite know why. He knew she wasn’t angry with him. At least, he hoped she wasn’t. He shook his head, feeling foolish.
“Jus’ get dis over an’ done with, LeBeau,” he muttered to himself, striding forward. He mounted the steps up to the door, nearly going right through the third step before he had realized that half of the plank had been broken off. So that’s what the big guy had meant about mind the step. Nice one. He lifted his foot from out of the hole, treading gingerly over the step before mounting the rest of the stairs and standing in front of the door and knocking. He heard the thud of footsteps over a wooden floor before the door was flung wide open – and there, for the first time in months, was Rogue, hair tied up in a kerchief, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and denim hotpants, barefoot and looking very much her good old southern self. He was so relieved to see her that for a moment he couldn’t even speak.
“Remy!” she almost screamed, and the next moment she had leapt into his arms like some wildcat, kissing his lips hard as she did so. He kissed her back, wrapping his arms round her, feeling suddenly exhilarated. It was only until he had felt her there in his embrace that it had finally sunk in that it was her, and that they were back together once more.
“You naughty boy!” she chided him playfully, drawing away from him. “You kept me waitin’ so long ah thought you were never gonna come round!”
“Sorry about that,” he apologized, smiling softly down at her. “I was an idiot an’ got side-tracked. But I’m here now, Rogue, chere.”
She squeezed him. “You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice again, Remy darlin’,” she told him shyly.
“Likewise,” he replied, smiling and brushing his hand across her cheek. She stood still for a moment, savouring the softness of his touch before sighing and letting go of him, taking his hand and leading him into the room.
“Ah’m so happy you made it, Remy. Ah’m sorry ah made you travel so far. It’s just…thing’s didn’t turn out the way ah meant them to.”
“They never do, chere,” he replied, closing the door behind him and looking around. It was a big room, sparsely furnished – but then he figured Rogue hadn’t been living there long enough to leave her mark on it. There was a dining table and chairs, a battered sofa and a black and white TV, a single bed, a cabinet, a fridge and a stove. On the furthest wall was another door, leading to the bathroom, or so he supposed.
“Nice place you have here,” he commented dropping his bags in a corner and breathing in deeply. “Smells of pine.”
“S’ not exactly the best of places,” she grinned, pouring him some ice-cool water from the fridge and handing the glass to him. “But ah like it. Especially after bein’ in the city for so many years, ah’ve been dyin’ for a lil’ bit of mah childhood. Once ah fix everythin’ up it’ll be jus’ like home.”
“So you’re thinkin’ of stayin’ here?” he asked, draining the water off in one.
“Maybe,” she answered evasively.
He knew what she meant, catching the implication in the word, but decided that now was not the best time to talk about it.
“So, how’d you come by it?” he asked instead.
“Hm? Oh, ah used to hang round these parts when ah was younger,” she replied, sitting at the table and beckoning him to join her. “Ah knew Jake’d give me a job, an’ a place t’ stay. We go back quite a ways.”
“An’ what made you decide to give up de nursin’ training?” he questioned, slipping into the seat beside her.
“Ah dunno,” she sighed. “Ah just felt ah wasn’ ready for it yet. Y’ know, studyin’ it was one thing; doin’ it was another. Maybe one day ah will. Ah just don’t feel it’s right right now.”
“I see,” he nodded.
She reached out, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them tight.
“But none o’ that matters right now. Ah’m so glad t’ see you, ah can’t tell you how much. After you left, ah was so scared ah’d made a mistake – that we both had. But ah knew ah could trust you, Remy. Even after everythin’…” She paused, suddenly smiling. “So tell me – how come you got side-tracked?”
He explained the happenings of the past few months, sparing none of the details, but otherwise feeling that no excuse he could make would make up for the fact that he would rather have been with her. Nevertheless Rogue listened intently
……
*
NB:- This fic, as it stands, is unfinished, and probably will not be finished (unless someone convinces me otherwise – come on, convince me, I know you want to; and you know I know I want you to. Whatever.). God, it’s like the bloody Mystery of Edwin Drood, isn’t it? Although I think you can all guess what’s coming next :p Oh well…