Title: Picture Perfect
Author: Spirit Melody (kat@lsak.fsnet.co.uk) & Logansbitch (loganlover@ukonline.co.uk)
Website: none
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Picture Perfect 2
By Spirit Melody & Logansbitch
Remy awoke feeling happy and refreshed and ready for a new day; until he saw the slight debris around the room. His joyous mood took a nose-dive and he sighed miserably, in the realisation that Logan was probably still mad at him. He didn't know why he'd suddenly lost it like that. 'Guess I jus' been a bit stressed recently.'
He gracefully rose from the bed and removed the crumpled bathrobe he'd gone to sleep in. Dressing in a warm long-sleeved black top and blue jeans with seemingly random rips and tears, (very carefully and gradually stylised), he walked barefoot out into the halls.
For near to midday on a Saturday they were amazingly quiet. All doors were shut and there were no sounds whatsoever. It was slightly eerie. Remy shrugged non-committally and strode to the kitchen where he was greeted by the sight of a very docile appearing Logan, calmly drinking a cup of coffee; and not outwardly perturbed by catching Remy's familiar scent; which he must have done by now.
Remy hesitated a moment in the doorway, not sure if he'd be welcome or not. After a minute or so he shrugged again, and quietly walked in and searching for something to do grabbed an apple. He sat down at the table, occasionally looking up from peeling the apple to study Logan's face.
It was a poker-face to rival even one of Remy's own. No emotion, save for something the Cajun could only describe as a kind of triumphant serenity, was shown upon it. Remy was devastated. At least if Logan was growling or sneering at him, Remy actually *knew* how he was feeling. This apathy was very unlike Wolverine; and therefore immensely unsettling to Gambit.
"Hey kid." Remy's presence was suddenly acknowledged. Again, Logan's tone of voice revealed no clues to his inner emotions.
"Cher." Remy smiled a little, between delicate bites of his apple, which he had fully peeled and figured he needed to do something with.
Logan rose from the table to get more coffee, this meant he was standing right between the back of Remy's chair and the kitchen counter.
Gambit twisted in his seat to face the stocky man, regarding him with a critical eye.
"You 'kay, mon ami?"
"Fine Gumbo." Logan shrugged, "Why wouldn't I be?"
Without giving Remy the chance to reply Logan coolly left the room, but as he did one of his hands brushed over the table top, leaving an object there.
Remy profoundly scrutinized the object across the table from him as if he thought it would come alive, jump up, and try to kill him. Knowing some of Logan's contacts, that wasn't an impossibility. He sighed, not appreciating the day's events so far, got up and tossed the barely touched apple into the trash can. Then he went to the edge of the table, and picked up the black envelope. He opened it and took out a small piece of white paper, scanning the words written in familiar handwriting.
'Ne vous pensez pas vont obtenir outre de cela facilement. Faites exactement comme je vous dis cependant, et tout sera pardonné.
La pièce de Rogue. Une fois que là, suivent les pétales roses.'
Remy blinked. 'Quoi?? What de hell does dat mean?' Being a creature of curiosity, Remy knew he'd have to do what the note told him just for that reason. He was perfectly aware Logan was playing some kind of game with him - what that game was though, he had no idea.
Moving warily, not wanting anyone to see him, Remy arrived at the door to Rogue's living quarters within the West Wing of the Mansion. He knocked on the door, but was pretty sure no one was in there anyway. Saturday, midday, unless they had to go save the world, it was a near sure guarantee most of the women in the Mansion would be terrorising the Westchester Mall.
He slipped into the room, grimacing at the blue and pink walls and lace covered four poster Rogue had never been able to persuade him to like. And sure enough, just as Logan had written, a path of dark red rose petals led to where he was supposed to go.
He followed the trail, picking them up as he went along until at the end he had a handful of silken fresh petals that smelt of morning rain and Logan. He was standing in front of a plain wooden chest of drawers, a murky brown in colour. He pulled open the top drawer, and smirked mischievously, realising it was Rogue's underwear draw. About to close it, he suddenly stopped as something peculiar caught his eye. An eyebrow rising, he picked up the first pair of knickers, and gasped in surprise.
They were gigantic! Huge, huge knickers. 'Dieu. Dese must go up t' above Rogue's waist!'
Frantically he pulled out more and more pairs of Rogue's knickers. They were all the same size, some even bigger. Red eyes widened in shock when they saw some pairs with pink bunny rabbits happily hopping around on the white fabric that he could easily have wrapped around his waist twice and still had some left over. He knew he'd always had a smaller waistline then Rogue, but even on her these would have swung surely. Yet there were no bras in the drawer, which was weird. Maybe she kept them in a different place. He gulped and slammed shut the draw; making sure everything looked relatively untouched. He was sure there must be some point to all of this though. Something he was supposed to find from Logan. Hoping not to get anymore nasty shocks, he opened the middle drawer and peered inside.
The draw contained several of Rogue's uniforms. He breathed a sigh of relief, nothing unusual there. His keen eyesight then detected the corner of a black envelope peeking out from under one or two uniforms. As he went to lift it out, his hand brushed against something which was more solid than it should have been. He took one of the skin-tight uniforms out and made a small sound of surprise and utter disdain. Built into all of the uniforms were padded chest pieces. All as big as Rogue's breasts. 'Oh non..., non, dis can' be right Dieu.'
Rogue, the Queen of ridiculously enormous, bountiful, 'utterly mouth waterin'' breasts was flat-chested!
He numbly began to refold the uniform, smoothing out the creases he had caused in his initial 'Oh my God' moment; he glanced down at the drawer and spotted something just visible beneath the pile of other uniforms in the drawer. He placed the newly folded uniform on the bed and lifted the thing out of its hidey hole, he held it before him, almost dropping it in shock when he realised what it was.
The thing in his hand, which was so thick he could only just hold it in his fist, was a vibrator. Remy gulped and tried to resist the faint feeling of nausea and faintness that assailed him as he stared at the illuminus pink monster. It had to be 14" long and good 6" around, just the thought of what this thing could do made his butt clench so much it felt as if his sphincter was going to close in on itself and made his breath catch. About 4" up from the base was a little man and staring at for a few moments Remy realised it was supposed to be a totem pole with an Indian on his knees, praising before it, which he could only assume was a clitoral stimulus.
Bringing up his other hand, he thumbed the two sets of controls. The top button made the actual phallus rotate gently round, while the other made the little Indian vibrate, the vibration was incredibly strong, the only thing he could liken it to was an industrial waxing machine. "Dis t'ing would make your teeth come loose." Involuntarily he cringed dropping it to the floor. It hit the wooden floor with a thump, vibrating itself round in circles on the flat surface, he reached down and grabbed it, desperately hitting the controls to shut it off. He slammed it back into the drawer in disgust, shivering slightly. "Remy didn't stand no chance 'gainst dat t'ing. Non wonder Rogue, not to bothered 'bout bein' single, cant t'ink o' a single man who be able to stan' up to dat. Apart from Logan and even he not dat big."
Finally, Gambit remembered to breathe again before he passed out from lack of oxygen. Numbly, he put the uniform back and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the thin envelope in one hand, and crushing the rose petals in his other.
Pocketing the envelope the young man rushed out of the room, on the search for Logan. He wanted to know what game they were playing. He'd decided he didn't like it anymore.
'Dis mus' be some caref'ly engineered practical joke... Rogue can' be, can' be...she can't seriously use dat…dat …t'ing!?! Oh Dieu!'
English translation of note:
'Don't think you're going to get off that easily. Do exactly as I tell you though, and everything will be forgiven.
Rogue's room. Once there, follow the rose petals.'
TBC in Chapter Three