Players:
Summary: Remy wins dinner with Clara in a game of pool.
Date: March 14, 2009
Log Title Pool Shark
Rating: PG 13
X-Mansion - Rec Room
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The Cajun makes playing pool look like the easiest thing in the World. Walking around the table, and lining up another shot, Remy sinks the balls with a surgeon's precision. "Tings be too quiet heuh… Makin dah bwoy all jumpy…." He mumbles to himself, exam period or not, Remy doesn't seem to be able to believe how quiet the mansion's become as of lately.
"Quiet? Sugar, you obviously weren't hear a couple days ago when those crazy duplicates showed up and trashed a chunk of the school." The voice is unfamiliar and very southern. The words are followed quickly by Clara's entrance. She'd been about to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and a movie when she heard the self muttering of one o the may X-ers she hasn't met yet. Dressed down in jeans, cowboy boots and a lavender tank top that matches her eyes, Clara takes a second to study Remy. "Didn't mean to interrupt.."
Remy shrugs. "Ah had sometin come up Petite, sometin…" Remy's voice trails off as he looks up and doe an immediate double take of Clara. The accent had struck a sweet spot with him reminding him of the various Southerners he'd been associated with before, Belladonna and Rogue more specifically, both parts of his life that seemed to have vanished with little or no explanation. "Y'ain' gotta 'pologize fo interruptin a game uh singles Petite. D'ya play?" He asks as he straightens up and his lips part in that mischievious grin.
Clara blinks at the double take, but doesn't seem phased as she strides deeper into the room, settling the bowl of popcorn nearby. "'Course I play. There isn't a honky tonk below the Mason Dixon Line that doesn't have a pool table." With a wink, Clara holds one hand out to Remy, the other taking a pool cue from the wall. "Clara Matthews, new drama teacher. And the name of the, and I'm guessing here, Louisiana man who's tail I'm about to whip?"
Remy grins as he takes the hand and kisses the back. "Dey call me Gambit, but dah real name's Remy, Remy LeBeau." He starts to re-rack the balls as he throws in, "yah should be careful Petite. What if dis bwoy likes gettin himself whipped?" He offers her a flirtatious wink from his strange eyes, which seem to be glowing a little bit brighter now as if there's a fire burning behind his reds. "Ladies firs' Petite. Apres vous." He performs a sweeping bow leading her to the table to break.
"A southern gentleman? And here I thought they were all extinct." With a soft laugh, Clara takes a step forward to glide past him with her pool stick to eye an angle for the break. "If you really liked bein' whipped darlin, you came to the right place." she drawls in soft question, bending slowly to line up her shot before the stick clacks loudly and sends the cue ball spiraling towards the others. She wasn't lying, she's good.
'I think I'm in love.' Remy thinks to himself as he watches the red head playing pool. She really is good. "Gentleman? Ain' yah evuh hear bout honuh among t'ieves?" Small private joke. "If ah was yah Petite, ah'd keep one eye on meh, an anudduh on dah game. Not jus cause ah'm hoping that it distracts yah enough tah give me a shot, but maybe because dat'll give ya an excuse tah keep checkin me out." He offers her a quick wink as he watches her shoot, not hidin the fact that he's appreciate her physique, not in a dirty way, but a purely confident sense of appreciation.
"Heard of it, sugar, but didn't think it still existed." Clara smiles back at him, watching him appreciate her from over her shoulder. "Silly me for mistaking you as a gentleman," she laughs, turning back to send another ball spiraling into a pocket. But the third shot she lines up clacks against felt, leaving the next shot to Remy. But still, as soon Remy moves to line up a shot, she moves past him, tracing a finger down his arm, trying to distract him. All's fair in love and pool.
Remy grins. That little brush is all he needed. Grinning he decides to play along, although it's not as much acting as Remy would like. "Yah gonna be tryin anytin tah stop me ain' yah Petite?" He looks at the table and picks a shot that seems all but impossible. Raising the Cue, Remy effortlessly massey's the shot, sending the cue into a clean u-turn on the felt pocketing the ball he was aiming for. "Wow. D'ya see dat one Petite? Guess Ah'm jus lucky tah day yah know?" He fishes around in his trenchcoat pockets and holds up a golden jewelled Horse shoe key chain. "Seem like dis be givin me all dah luck ah need."
Clara watches with clear surprise as the ball nearly defies all logic to sink into a pocket. "Holy.." Lavender turns to Remy, narrowing thoughtfully. "Didn't know we were using powers," she says, tone filled with assumption. "Wait, I have one just like that." Patting her jean's pockets, she goes for her lucky charm, not finding it. "Oh, you sneaky devil," she laughs, stepping forward to try and pluck her key chain from his hand.
Remy takes a step back and returns it to his pocket. "Not yet yah don' Petite." He offers her a playful laugh as he steps back. "By dah way, dat ain' powuhs. Back home, we call dat skills. Mah powuhs are… different." After he's a safe distance from her, he wonders out loud. "Ah wonduh how much dah little trinket means to yah."
Clara rests her pool cue against the table and flexes her fingers in a quick crack. Anyone who's spent as much time around southern women can recognize that spark behind Clara's eyes. It's on. "It's my good luck charm," she explains with a playful smirk, taking another couple of steps closer. "Mean enough for me to pin ya down and take it back." Promises promises.
Remy can't help but let out a low chuckle. "Den i's definitely in mah bes intress tah hold ontuh dis ain' it Chere. Dere ain' no bedduh way tah be spendin a satuhday den pinned by a beautiful redhead." His eye are now shimmering fiercely like rubies under candlelight. Remy's gotta remember to thank Scott for hiring this little firecracker.
Remy wags a finger from side to side. "Ahh Ahh ahh…. Wouldn' wan' dis tah go boom would yah?" The trinket suddenly glows a hot pink as Remy charges it, with absolutely no intention of letting it blow. "Ah tell yah what Chere… Ah like yah fiyuh, so why don' yah and me play a lil game. Make a lil wager? Could be intressin non?" The whole hair swooshing like it's got a mind of its own has Remy confused but his expression remains unphased.
Clara stops the moment she sees the energy surround her lucky horseshoe, eyes widening with a touch of worry. Her hair still twitches but otherwise she remains still. "And just what kind of game were you thinking?" Clara is a fan of games, just not usually with such strange stakes.
Remy shrugs. "Well.. We in dah middle of a pool game heuh. Ah say we finish it. Y'obviously ahead. Tell yah what. If yah win, ah give yah back dah chain and sometin else dat yah wan.. BUT if ah win." He walks over to Clara despite her hair, smiling. "If ah win, ah get uh kiss, and dinnuh wid yah ce soir… Wha you tink?"
Clara grins, chin craning to keep her eyes on Remy's. "How about if I win, I get the key chain and that something else you mentioned. And if you win," she takes a step closer, pressing against him, eyes defiant, "you get a kiss, and a dinner date /with/ dancing. And I get my key chain back."
Remy grins. "But if yah don' win back yah trinket den ah gedduh play yah again and ah get sometin tah remembuh yah by. Ain' dat wort sometin to yah Chere?" He produces a king of hearts out of thin air, charges it so that it's glows a faint pink and is strangely warm and electric to the touch, no where near critical charging point. It'll die down and be a normal card in about 30 minutes time. "But if yah like.. heuh's sometin dat yah can have tah 'membuh me wid."
Clara goes faintly wide eyed at that, but composes herself quickly, plucking the card from his fingers. She's nervous but assumes he wouldn't offer it to her if it'd hurt her. "You've certainly got a way of putting things," she murmurs, tracing her finger down his chest before pushing away from him to saunter back to the pool table. "I'm gonna get that key chain back, darlin'. I promise you that."
Remy chuckles. "We goin see bout dat." Remy lines up his next two shots with perfect precision. Knowing it won't be fair, and assuming that Clara knows nothing about how he made money for himself when he wasn't stealing he decides to convincingly fumble the next shot and see how Clara fairs. He doesn't doubt that she'd probably take it down right there and now, but something about this Southerner's got him playing all sorts of cards. Maybe the pride of winning could prove most exceptionally helpful for the date.
Clara watches as he flawlessly sinks the next two shots. She knows a shark when she sees one. She's just never seen one quite so cute before. "You know, you could have just asked me out, sugar." Clara says as she lines up her own shot, sinking it without any trouble. The next one will be tough. It takes a bit of studying, kneeling to study angles. After a solid minute, she straightens and shoots, managing it but just barely. "I would have said yes." She turns, grabbing the chalk as she fixes up her cue. "Probably."
Remy grins his confidence shining from it. "Dat ain' no maybe Petite. Yah would have… But at leas dis way, i's mo fun, got mo story to it, and layduh on if anyone heuh gives yah a hahd time fo havin dinnuh wid meh, yah can jus say dat ya los' a bet. Ah back yah up." He grins as he chalks up his cue idly waiting for her to finish.
"Oh yeah? You think everyone's going to give me a hard time?" Clara asks with an arched brow. She sinks one more ball before another misses, causing a faint frown to drift over the red head's lips. "And exactly why would that be, Remy darlin'?"
Remy chuckles. "Parce que c'est moi. (Because it's me) Dey always pullin tings at meh Petite, ah don' mind dey jus can' handle dah Cajun c'est tous (thats all)." Remy is indeed impressed with her skills. Probably one of the best in the mansion, aside from Forge who used to 'program' his talent into his limbs. Remy goes about cleanly finishing up the game but making it look like it took some effort. "Well… Now yah definitely off dah hook about what dey goin say bout dinnuh." He grins boyishly sticking out his tongue. "Since ah won, dey jus goin tink dat yah was innocent while ah was dah deceiving one… S'Fun non?" Remy sincerely doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks about him as if he's somehow so confident or self righteous in himself that he is unphased by others… To an extent…
"I don't particularly care about what people think or say about me," Clara says, watching him clear the table with a distinct look of admiration. Now that's talent. Everything about him screams shark, and that's exactly what's keeping her interest. "I was a theater major, sugar, I'm used to words just bouncing off of me." As Remy sticks his tongue out, Clara can't help but laugh. "I can't imagine that not one of them could imagine I just fell for that boyish charm?"
Remy grins. "Maybe das jus dah problem… Maybe dey tink ah'm jus some kind uh playboy ou quelque chose (or something)." He sets down the cue. "Ah tell yah what Petite, yah can pick dah place yah like. D'ya need some time tah git ready o' ahr yah ready tah leave maintenant (now)?"
"Are you trying to tell me you aren't a playboy?" Clara asks as she looks him over. His whole demeanor screams 'Ladies Man'. But she could just be reading too much into it. Cleaning up the table and resting her cue back on the wall, Clara glances to her discarded popcorn. "I could eat. If you feel like giving me a couple of minutes to get cleaned up?"
Remy always figured the trenchcoat, black jeans and the black fitted shirt always screamed 'VAGABOND or BUM or VAGRANT or DRIFTER' but if someone wants to see something else, then great. "Yah can' always judge a book by dah covuh Chere. Jus cause ah like dah ladies, don' mean ah be always takin 'vantage of dem. Remy's got a hawt too yah know." He looks down at himself and figures he could do with a change as well. "Alright den ah'll meet yah downstayuhs in say half an owuh?"
A true ladies man doesn't have to fit a look, it's all in the way they carry themselves and act around woman. But ladies man or not, it doesn't seem to bother Clara. She's not looking to tie someone down, just head out for a little bit of fun and relaxation. She's certainly earned it this past week and a half. "Half an hour," she nods, walking past him with a grin. "You're taking me somewhere fun," she warns. "If you're going to b getting that kiss, it's gonna be one you remember."
Remy cleans up real nicely as he waits at the bottom of the stairs, hair tied back neatly as he stands in a pin striped charcoal grey suit with an open colored white dress shirt complete with French cuffs and cufflinks. He's twirling a set of keys on his finger as he waits patiently for Clara smiling at some of the passerbys.
It's a little over thirty minutes when Clara comes strolling down the stairs in a girl's-classic; Little Black Dress. Hair sits in soft curls around her shoulders, falling in soft waves to her hips and pinned loosely back with a butterfly pin. Strappy heels completely the look as she sends Remy a bright smile. "So, figured out some place fun, yet?"
Remy grins. "Mon Dieu Petite." Remy smiles as he takes her in. "Yah tryin tah give dah boy a hawt attack?" He holds out his arms as he leads Clara outside towards the car he's chosen for the evening. A nice little Ferrari F50 convertible in mirror chrome paint… Obviously not that flashy. He opens the door for Clara and helps her in. "I hope you like jazz and swing."
"I don't try, darlin', I succeed." Clara gives him a wink, studying him as she takes the offered arm. "I'm not the only one who cleans up nicely," she admires. "I'm more of a line dancer, myself. But I'm flexible." She gives him a lingering look, amusement flashing behind her eyes. Of course she is. "You may have to give me a lesson."
Remy grins. "I'll take care of you Petite." Remy tears the car out of the lot and onto the road. The rest of the drive is fairly smooth as some slow rock plays over the stereo. "Ah'll do all dah leading Chere. Dis one of mah fav'rite places tah go. S'mah lil gedaway from dah mansion…" He soon pulls into view of a place labeled "Royal Flush" with the 5 cards sitting in a neon martini glass. The valet opens the car doors for the both of them and smiles. "Mr. LeBeau, it's so good to see you again. Mr. Diamond just called us to let us know you were coming." He suddenly pauses and blushes at the sight of Clara. "As usual your taste is impeccable sir. A private booth has been set up for you for dinner upstairs and the bouncers for the dancefloor on the lower levels have been informed of your presence." Remy grins and slips the Valet a fifty. "Ah'll find out if she got any fre'ns fo ya Daryl." Remy slips an arm around Clara's waist. "This way Petite." They are led in style into the Royal Flush up a set of stairs
"See, and I never would have stopped here. I'd have tried to avoid eating anywhere that had the word 'flush' in it's name," Clara teases. Her hand slides gingerly into the crook of his arm as she gives all of the staring patrons a good show, hips swinging gracefully. Smiling at the compliment, Clara gently traces the valet's cheek. "You're sweet," she drawls before following along at Remy's side. Clearly this is not her first time acting as arm candy. Though her last night out Warren was more arm candy for her than the other way around. "I don't think I've ever seen this place before. One of those hidden gems you have to hear about to get into?"
Remy chuckles. "Ah suppose yah could say dat. Diamond et moi, we go back a ways. Ah got him out of a jam a couple o times an dah man's nevuh fo'gotten… Keeps acting like he owes me sometin. I kept saying no but e'rytime ah do, he gets upset tinkin dat he ain' good nuff… Petit fou (little fool)." He chuckles to himself. "Anyway, he got a haht of gold Chere." He waits for Clara to slide in before taking a seat of his own. "What d'ya feel like drinking?"
"Well, I suppose some people are like that. Eventually his desire to make it up to you will fade. Until then, why not enjoy what you have here? It could be worse." Clara slides into the out of the way booth, resting her chin in her palm as she begins to glance around. It really is a darling little place. "Will we be having the dance floor to ourselves? I heard him mention the bouncers." At the mention of drinking, she taps her lips. "Mmm, Apple Martini?"
Remy turns to the waitress, "An Apple Martini fo dah lady an ah'll have dah usual." The waitress smiles at Remy and reads the order back, "So one apple martini and a Cajun Kiss coming right up." Remy shakes his head chuckling to himself as the waitress walks away. "Well we won' zactly be having dah main dancefloor to ourselves, but dere's a private VIP section dah he puts aside on nights ah come in case yah feel like dancing uninterrupted."
Clara arches a brow. "Cajun kiss?" The amusement is clear in her tone as she studies him. "I'd say we could cancel my drink and order me one of those, but I suppose I'll be getting the real thing a little later." Winking, Clara reaches a hand out over the table, palm up in offering. "Well, I can't say I object to not looking ridiculous in front of everyone here. This way I'll only look silly in front of a few VIPers."
Remy blushes at the mention of the Cajun Kiss… "Yeah… Dat one's named aftuh me too… Seems dat dis bahtenduh she… Well she fancied meh apparen'ly and she made dis flamin drink called dah Cajun Kiss. S'basically Whiskey o Bourbon with extra et'nol so dat it burns pink, like may cahds when ah cha'ge dem." Speaking of the devils, the drinks arrive and two Cajun kisses are placed in front of Remy, "I thought you'd like an extra on just in case." The waitress winks and walks away. "Looks like yah get yah wish Petite." Remy slides her the second drink and holds his up to his lips and blows out the flame. "Tah you Petite. And don' worry bout dah dancin. Like ah said. Ah'm a good leaduh."
Clara watches as the waitress drops off two of the drinks along with her original order. "If I didn't know better, sugar, I'd say she was helping you get me drunk." Laughing, she takes the drink and eyes it. Whiskey works just as well as some froo froo girly drink. "To me," she agrees with a wide smile, bringing the glass closer to blow out the flame, then take a long draw from the glass. She closes her eyes to the sweet burn. "Delicious." She lowers the glass, studying him thoughtful. "So tell me a bit about yourself."
Remy chuckles. "Maybe she's tryin tah get meh drunk too." Raising the glass he takes a sip of his drink too. "Well what would yah like tah know Petite? Ah'm sure dat ah won' mind tellin yah almos anytin… If dere be something ah'm not comfotable telling yah ah'll let yah know. But den again, we could jus fo'get about meh and talk about yah."
"We have later to talk about me," Clara says, waving the thought away. "I'm curious how long you've been with the school, what brought you there. That sort of thing. It amazes me all of the different stories that I get from people on what brought them together here." She sips her drink steadily now, waiting for the answer. "Or we could just go dance? Or combine the two? Talk and dance."
Remy chuckles. "We havn' evun ordered yah dinnuh yet. Petite. Ah suppose ah could tell ya mah story." He lets out a sigh. He downs the rest of his drink in a single gulp and holds up his glass to the waitress signaling for another round. "Ya from dah sou'd… Y'evuh heard of dah guild of T'ieves and dah guild o Assassins, Petite?"
Clara watches as he downs the drink with wide eyes, shrugging and tipping her own glass. Cheers. She lowers the now empty glass with a faint cringe as it burns down her throat. The glass is slid to the end of the table as she grabs her martini glass. "Only a few rumors here or there. Kind of an old wives tail sort of thing to keep people in line."
Remy chuckles. "Well yah lookin at dah Prince of dah Guild o T'ieves, and dah original patriarch of dah unified guild." He scoots in a little bit closer so he won't have to speak too loud. "Wha's dere tah say Petite… Ah grew up on dah streets, dah man take did save me an train me was non udduh den dah leaduh of dah guild of t'ieves. Ah was abandoned when ah was born cause of mah eyes, mah parents mus have t'ought dat ah was a demon o somethin."
The look of disbelief in her eyes is clear. Is this a line? Clara studies his body language, the lilt in his voice. She would study his eyes, but it's too difficult because she always ends up focusing on the color instead. "You're serious," she states after a few moment. It's not a question but a statement of fact. "Well, that does explain how you got your hands on my key chain without my noticing."
Remy shakes his head. "Ah wish ah was lying Chere but ah ain'. Ah grew up on dah stree's and tah be honest, dere ain' really anytin on anyone or anywhere, dat ah can't pinch. Ah'm dah best t'ieve and stealth man out dere." He shakes his head in a strange mix of pride and sorrow. "Ah don' really like talkin bout it all dat much cause it gets people t'inkin dat ah ain' dah good.. Guess ah also do dah whole playin dah life o dah pawty jus so dat people don' take meh too serieusement…"
Clara rests her hand on his with a soft smile. "I can't imagine that was an easy life. But you seem to have done well enough for yourself." She studies his face thoughtfully. "And if it bothers you, then we won't talk about it any more," she promises, squeezing his fingers. "What would you like to know about me?"
Remy shrugs. "Ain' so much dat it bodduhs me non, well not dat stuff anyway, but ah jus don' like seein udduhs get sad ovuh tings dat ain' dey fault." He smiles at the hand onhis own. "What are yah hungry fo?" He asks as he slips a menu in her direction. "Well why not tell me yah full name fo stahtuh and how yah came to dah mansion…. What yah powuhs are… yah know. Dah usual." He grins, as if nothing phased him about 3 seconds ago.
"See, I don't have a 'the usual' just yet. I'm still very new to the thought of being around other mutants at all." Her hand slides away to take the menu, studying it thoughtfully. "The chicken and shrimp salad sounds delicious," she says as she reads through it. Oh yeah, thats the obvious choice right there. "Clara Matthews, and I found out about the mansion when I accidentally overheard someone talking about it. Before then I was working in City Schools. As for my powers, they call it Prehensile Hair. I know it sounds strange but my hair can move on it's own, it's super strong.. that sort of thing."
Remy seems intrigued. "Wow… Dah's pretty suhprising Petite. Fo meh ah got some strange tings… Mah main powuh is called 'Kinetic Enuhgy Transference'. Ah can chahge up object wid kinetic eneuhgy. Ah can chahge up objects and make dem glow, be warm or explode on will. Ah can control dah timing or make dem explode on contact. Mah body's basically a giant battery. Because of dah constant chahge in mah body, mah brain's protected from Psychics, also ah can see bedduh in dah dahk cause of dese eyes and ah heal a bit quickuh… S'complicated."
That's quite a list. "And here I thought I was pretty special with my abilities. That's just, wow." Clara glances back up to his eeys. She'd been curious but still doesn't know what's stepping over the line, question wise when asking another mutant about their powers. "That has to help with the whole thief thing," she says with a bright smile, lifting a hand to almost touch the side of his face. But she stops just before touching him, settling the hand back in her lap. "I think they're beautiful," she drawls softly.
Remy blushes for the first time in a long time. He's gotten exotic, strange, different, but rarely have his eyes been called beautiful. "Well Merci Petite." He looks down for a minute as he orders their food, gettin himself a shrimp fettuccine. "It really did help dah whole tieves situation." He suddenly bursts out laughing. "When ah was a kid, ah used t'imagine dat ah was like Aladdin. Dat someday ah'd find a lamp on one of mah missions and dat it'd all be ovuh."
Clara startles when he suddenly laughs, eyes going wide. But she quickly smile and touches his hand again. "Like I said before, darlin', you did alright for yourself. You're at Xavier's, you're the King of Thieves," she pauses, leaning back and gesturing over herself. "You're on a date with /me/. Are you sure you didn't find that lamp and just forget about it?" she winks. The blush suits him, her smile wrapping around the rim of her martini glass as she finishes off the drink.
The food arrives shortly and is dressed to perfection. "Yah righ… Maybe ah did find dat lamp, but ah'd say dat dah lucky horseshoe's dah only lucky lamp ah found." He grins and offers a wink.
Clara watches the food get settled through hungry eyes, grabbing a fork the second the plate touches the table. "Thank you," she says to the waitress before pointing the fork towards Remy, waving it in mock-menace. "Don't get too attached, I intend to take that back."
Remy chuckles. "Yah ain' ready tah pay dah price ah'm gonna chahge fo yah tah get it back." He playfully winks as he eyes the fork wondering how much fiest this little one actually has in her. He took a mouthful of pasta enjoying the flavors. "So wayuh yah from Petite, yah see tah have a bid of dah ol' suddurn in yah. Tennesse? Texas?"
Clara arches a brow high as he mentions the price. "Oh? And exactly what is it going to cost me?" she inquires with a coy smile, fork plunging into her food as she eats. Having not eaten since breakfast, she's nearly starving. "Tennessee girl, born and raised," Clara nods. "I've been in the City since college, but southern's in your blood. I know you understand."
Remy grins. "Seems like i's always dah Suddurn ones that know dah way to mah haht." He chuckles as he eats more of his pasta. "Do dey starve yah at dah mansion?"
"It's because we have spunk," Clara laughs. "There's no girl like a country girl. Of that I can assure you." She wiggles the fork at him again, but only for a second before it's back to eating. "Of course. I've just been busy repairing my room of damage from the recent attack."
-To Be Continued-
