The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
63
Views:
5,681
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
63
Views:
5,681
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
27
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Chapter Twenty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch, Uberbeta and German Kitty Poker… Do you just poke German Kitties or are you a Kitty Poker who is German? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are extra wonderful for archiving/hosting! ProPhile: I’m having issues with it. *sigh*. Morgan: *poke poke * Readers/Reviewers: The German Kitty Poker thing is not perverted. Trust me. *glomp * for R and R. ;)
Remy sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Belle, din’t n’t right!”
“Shut up,” she snapped. “Just hold the kid and smile!” She shoved a bundle of baby into Remy’s arms and turned away, striding towards a woman in blue with the most hideous hat Remy had ever seen in his life.
Remy stared down at the sleeping infant and shook his head slightly. Belladonna had claimed it was a foundling, as he had been himself, and it was Guild business. He knew as well as anyone that the Guilds had far-reaching arms. Virtually everyor city ity in the world had a Guild House and those houses had their own tendrils of influence and networking. He sighed and stared at the baby again. It was not so impossible that Belladonna had brought the foundling here to meet with a Guild House member in the city, but then again, he paused, glancing over at Belle and the blue clad lady, why would she bring the child all the way to Bayville just to turn around and take him or her back to the city? He winced as the baby snuffled, waking up and no doubt considering crying. “Belle,” he said urgently, advancing on the two women. “Take dis kid…”
“Remy Etienne LeBeau,” Belladonna said in a low, tight, tone, making him wince. When the middle name was used, he knew he was about to get torn apart one way or another.1 “You stand where I tell you to, entend?”2
Remy stopped in his tracks, his better judgment winning over indignation. Belle’s Creole3 accent was getting stronger and he knew from experience that sas ras running with a hair trigger now. He nodded cordially to the blue clad woman, who he now could see was on the far side of middle aged, but not old. She had grayish hair that was obviously blonde at one time and her eyes were a piercing green that made him feel as if she were flaying him alive, revealing his true nature when she turned her gaze to him. Without changing expression, he strengthened his mental shields and repositioned himself casually, turning so that he blocked the baby from her line of sight and seemed as if he were merely focusing his attention on Belle. “Chere, I gotta go call la maison, d’accord? I gotta make sure dat dey all got out a’right.” He raised a brow subtly, willing her to be cooperative as she could.
Belladonna looked briefly mutinous, her lips pursing in distaste for a fraction of a second. “D’accord, mais you leave l’enfant avec moi.”
A jolt of uneasiness ed ied it’s way through Remy’s insides, settling at the base of his spine. “Nah, we got us a good conversation goin’,” he smiled. “We jus’ be right back…”
“Monsieur LeBeau,” the blue clad woman said gravely, her voice bearing traces of a Creole accent, long subsumed under the flatter, more neutral tones of someone who was trying very hard to sound unremarkable. “We don’t have time for your games. You’re here as an interloper. Belladonna did not tell us that she was bringing a…friend. Thi del delaying our trctioction, which in turn delays Guild business. I am sure,” she paused, raising a brow for emphasis, “that you are not so long out of the guild as to have forgotten the consequences of interfering with Guild business.”
Remy stiffened, holding the baby a bit tighter, it’s mewling complaints never quite reaching a full-throated cry. “Madame, I’m afraid I don’ know you well ‘nough for you ta be tellin’ me what my own business is, much less dat of de Guild.” His mind was racing—not only did she know his name, she knew of his exile. Not a surprising thing, to be sure, but unexpected, especially this far from New Orleans, from the seat of the Guild and his own personal shame.
Belladonna radiated a new nervousness, but she did not voice it. Instead, she said calmly, “Remy, this was a mistake. Hand me Solange and we’ll be on our way. You can return to your home and I will go to the Guild House with her.”
“Belle,” he said suddenly but not quickly, “what do de Assassins want avec un enfant?”4 He was glad that he wore sunglasses, otherwise she would have seen the anger snapping in his eyes. “You gettin’ into de human trade business now, cherie?”
The blue woman fairly growled on his left, reaching for the baby as she spoke. “You bes’ not be getting’ involved more than you already are, Monsieur LeBeau. Hate ta have somethin’ happen to your Professor Xavier or even your little Jubilation, eh?”
His sho shot out and he shoved her back even as he stepped out of arm’s reach himself. “I weren’t talkin’ to you,” he chided airily. “We’re gonna be goin’ now, Belladonna. Here,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved several twenties. “Dis should get you goin’ where you need ta go.”
Belladonna’s eyes grew wide as she stared at him, something akin to horror marring her features. “Remy, don’t,” she said, her voice trembling for the first time in their acquaintance. “You got no idea.”
The blue clad woman muttered under her breath and Remy felt as if he had made a grave error. “LeBeau, Solange ain’t yours to barter with. You give her over an’ let dis happen an’ I’ll make sure Belladonna isn’t censured for bringing in outside help, as it were.”
Remy grew hesitant. He knew that both of their guilds would exact a strong punishment on anyone they felt had betrayed them, and the Assassins might certainly feel that Belladonna had betrayed their trust by bringing him in, and the Guild might see it as a betrayal of their deal… Solange snuffled again and blew a bubbly kiss as she tried to suck her thumb. “Desole,” he sighed. “But we gotta go an’ Belle is comin’ wid us.” He flipped a card into the air, retrieving it from his pocket and charging it in the space of a few seconds. Belladonna had the good sense to move, letting Remy take her elbow as the card exploded in a blinding flash. The woman screamed in surprise and outrage but Remy was already running as fast as he could, Belladonna keeping pace with him. “Chere,” he snapped, “We gotta talk!”
1 Etienne was his middle name in one of the comics, but damned if I know which, lol. And that’s true about middle names, at least here… No one ever calls you by your full name unless you’re in a hell of a lot of trouble.
2 Understand
3 For your edification, there is a difference between a Creole and Cajun accent and differences within THOSE accents according to location, family history, and even what side of the bayou you grew up on. ;)
4 Belladonna was with the Assassins, Remy was with the Thieves. Think of it like Westside Story but with jamabalaya.
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch, Uberbeta and German Kitty Poker… Do you just poke German Kitties or are you a Kitty Poker who is German? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are extra wonderful for archiving/hosting! ProPhile: I’m having issues with it. *sigh*. Morgan: *poke poke * Readers/Reviewers: The German Kitty Poker thing is not perverted. Trust me. *glomp * for R and R. ;)
Remy sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. “Belle, din’t n’t right!”
“Shut up,” she snapped. “Just hold the kid and smile!” She shoved a bundle of baby into Remy’s arms and turned away, striding towards a woman in blue with the most hideous hat Remy had ever seen in his life.
Remy stared down at the sleeping infant and shook his head slightly. Belladonna had claimed it was a foundling, as he had been himself, and it was Guild business. He knew as well as anyone that the Guilds had far-reaching arms. Virtually everyor city ity in the world had a Guild House and those houses had their own tendrils of influence and networking. He sighed and stared at the baby again. It was not so impossible that Belladonna had brought the foundling here to meet with a Guild House member in the city, but then again, he paused, glancing over at Belle and the blue clad lady, why would she bring the child all the way to Bayville just to turn around and take him or her back to the city? He winced as the baby snuffled, waking up and no doubt considering crying. “Belle,” he said urgently, advancing on the two women. “Take dis kid…”
“Remy Etienne LeBeau,” Belladonna said in a low, tight, tone, making him wince. When the middle name was used, he knew he was about to get torn apart one way or another.1 “You stand where I tell you to, entend?”2
Remy stopped in his tracks, his better judgment winning over indignation. Belle’s Creole3 accent was getting stronger and he knew from experience that sas ras running with a hair trigger now. He nodded cordially to the blue clad woman, who he now could see was on the far side of middle aged, but not old. She had grayish hair that was obviously blonde at one time and her eyes were a piercing green that made him feel as if she were flaying him alive, revealing his true nature when she turned her gaze to him. Without changing expression, he strengthened his mental shields and repositioned himself casually, turning so that he blocked the baby from her line of sight and seemed as if he were merely focusing his attention on Belle. “Chere, I gotta go call la maison, d’accord? I gotta make sure dat dey all got out a’right.” He raised a brow subtly, willing her to be cooperative as she could.
Belladonna looked briefly mutinous, her lips pursing in distaste for a fraction of a second. “D’accord, mais you leave l’enfant avec moi.”
A jolt of uneasiness ed ied it’s way through Remy’s insides, settling at the base of his spine. “Nah, we got us a good conversation goin’,” he smiled. “We jus’ be right back…”
“Monsieur LeBeau,” the blue clad woman said gravely, her voice bearing traces of a Creole accent, long subsumed under the flatter, more neutral tones of someone who was trying very hard to sound unremarkable. “We don’t have time for your games. You’re here as an interloper. Belladonna did not tell us that she was bringing a…friend. Thi del delaying our trctioction, which in turn delays Guild business. I am sure,” she paused, raising a brow for emphasis, “that you are not so long out of the guild as to have forgotten the consequences of interfering with Guild business.”
Remy stiffened, holding the baby a bit tighter, it’s mewling complaints never quite reaching a full-throated cry. “Madame, I’m afraid I don’ know you well ‘nough for you ta be tellin’ me what my own business is, much less dat of de Guild.” His mind was racing—not only did she know his name, she knew of his exile. Not a surprising thing, to be sure, but unexpected, especially this far from New Orleans, from the seat of the Guild and his own personal shame.
Belladonna radiated a new nervousness, but she did not voice it. Instead, she said calmly, “Remy, this was a mistake. Hand me Solange and we’ll be on our way. You can return to your home and I will go to the Guild House with her.”
“Belle,” he said suddenly but not quickly, “what do de Assassins want avec un enfant?”4 He was glad that he wore sunglasses, otherwise she would have seen the anger snapping in his eyes. “You gettin’ into de human trade business now, cherie?”
The blue woman fairly growled on his left, reaching for the baby as she spoke. “You bes’ not be getting’ involved more than you already are, Monsieur LeBeau. Hate ta have somethin’ happen to your Professor Xavier or even your little Jubilation, eh?”
His sho shot out and he shoved her back even as he stepped out of arm’s reach himself. “I weren’t talkin’ to you,” he chided airily. “We’re gonna be goin’ now, Belladonna. Here,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved several twenties. “Dis should get you goin’ where you need ta go.”
Belladonna’s eyes grew wide as she stared at him, something akin to horror marring her features. “Remy, don’t,” she said, her voice trembling for the first time in their acquaintance. “You got no idea.”
The blue clad woman muttered under her breath and Remy felt as if he had made a grave error. “LeBeau, Solange ain’t yours to barter with. You give her over an’ let dis happen an’ I’ll make sure Belladonna isn’t censured for bringing in outside help, as it were.”
Remy grew hesitant. He knew that both of their guilds would exact a strong punishment on anyone they felt had betrayed them, and the Assassins might certainly feel that Belladonna had betrayed their trust by bringing him in, and the Guild might see it as a betrayal of their deal… Solange snuffled again and blew a bubbly kiss as she tried to suck her thumb. “Desole,” he sighed. “But we gotta go an’ Belle is comin’ wid us.” He flipped a card into the air, retrieving it from his pocket and charging it in the space of a few seconds. Belladonna had the good sense to move, letting Remy take her elbow as the card exploded in a blinding flash. The woman screamed in surprise and outrage but Remy was already running as fast as he could, Belladonna keeping pace with him. “Chere,” he snapped, “We gotta talk!”
1 Etienne was his middle name in one of the comics, but damned if I know which, lol. And that’s true about middle names, at least here… No one ever calls you by your full name unless you’re in a hell of a lot of trouble.
2 Understand
3 For your edification, there is a difference between a Creole and Cajun accent and differences within THOSE accents according to location, family history, and even what side of the bayou you grew up on. ;)
4 Belladonna was with the Assassins, Remy was with the Thieves. Think of it like Westside Story but with jamabalaya.