Recruited (backdated) [for Emma]

[takethegamble]

He wasn't a part of this world any more, the old houses with gingerbread lattices and brightly painted shutters, the brownstones crowding street corners and their small front yards decorated with faded statuary to patron saints and hoodoo loas, the dive bars spilling jazz and blues and billie rock into the dusty streets. There were entire cities dedicated to the dead here, fistfuls of cemeteries stuffed with cracked marble mausoleums and angels that would never fly.

No flowers would ever be put on white marble steps for Remy LeBeau. No one would light incense and whisper a prayer to Saint Gertrude or Michael for his damned soul.

Not in this city.

It was getting late and the tall old-fashioned street lamps lit on the high walls of the Lafayette Cemetery didn't do much about keeping the coming dark away. There were deep bruises of shadow in the narrow grassy aisles between marble houses that made the perfect cover for thieves and killers. Remy should know--he used to be one of them. Tonight he wasn't worried. Tonight the city, and he in it but no longer a part of it, was mourning.

Remy knelt in the grass in front of the imposing bulk of the Bourdeaux mausoleum, his trench coat fanned out around him and the damp ground soaking the knees of his jeans. He laid on the steps a single white trumpeter lilly, uncaring that it was just one in a landside of flowers that created a riot of color in the mostly otherwise dull winter landscape of the cemetery.

Bella wouldn't have cared if it had been one or a million, only that he had brought it.

"Didn' even steal it, mon amour," Remy said, smiling. "Thought you'd appreciate dat."

Around the thick stem of the lily a thin gold band caught the wavering yellow light from the walls shone for a moment. Behind sunglasses, Remy's eyes moved from the freshly engraved name of his wife (Bourdeaux, she had been buried as, not LeBeau) to his wedding band. It felt only appropriate that it stay here, since here was where his heart was.

Remy wrung his cold-chapped hands in preparation of what he was going to do. He did not plan on letting any looters take his last gift to Bella Donna.

Comments

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Of all the places, she hadn't rightly expected this to be the place she first laid her own two eyes on him.

Tracking Remy LeBeau had to be one of her biggest challenges. While his own mind was hard to pin point, those around him were not. From one city to the next, it took a few hours to scan enough minds to catch glimpses of him, and even then, she was usually just a step behind.

Until he entered New Orleans, and Emma had a sense it was the best place to catch him. Her flight landed but mere hours ago, and yet, she knew not to squander time on freshening up. He was a slippery little thief, and she would be damned if she lost him again.

Of course, standing near the mouth of the cemetery, she waited. She had the common courtesy to give him but a moment. Although she knew he may be less inclined to walk from the gates, she could pick up on his trail around the mass landmark simply enough.

No, Emma Frost would not rush things. So she waited, and watched, a silent spectator to the banished prince's farewell.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

Remy knew that he'd done it for him, not for her. But in the end the dead were dead and everything done after they were gone was only for the living. Even so. Until time stripped down that house of the dead, the gold that he'd taken as a symbol of his love would stay there with Bella, melted into a circle in the marble under her engraved name.

She would have laughed at him. He wished that he could remember the exact sound of it.

Pushing his hands into his pockets, Remy headed to the main entrance. Thieves went over walls and through shadows and those were the places people who wanted to find thieves would look. Remy walked right through the pools of yellow light that made demon shadows out of the high, rusty front gates. He was still trying to remember that laugh but nothing, not even Bella herself stepping in front of him, would make Remy less than aware of his surroundings.

That made the next question; who loitered around cemeteries at dusk? Behind dark aviator glasses, Remy glanced at the blonde without the smallest shift of his head and walked on. He saw. He saw a lot of things. The hard part was bringing himself to care.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

He might've been astute enough to notice her, to sense her or however his little thief senses worked, but that only made it easier for Emma. She wasn't one to loiter in shadows, while she might use a talent in subterfuge, she preferred to do it her own way.

Smiling softly, she waited until he moved towards her, as if he was merely joining her as a previously arranged thing. "My sincerest condolences." She offered reverently. While she may not have put any stock in 'love' or 'marriage' on the whole, she could at least appear to be caring.

Basic human empathy and all that. "Walk with me?"

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

Remy would have walked right past her without another look, no matter how beautiful she was or how much she stood out against the back drop of a proud grifter of a city like New Orleans, dirt beneath all its fingernails. This belle damme, she didn't look like she'd ever seen a bit of dirt.

It was her condolences that made Remy pause, his boots silent as they stopped on the street. She could have been just another broken heart making a wish to the like but Remy dismissed that romantic idea when she asked him to walk.

No one knew he was here. At least, he'd been very careful in covering his tracks. Remy LeBeau was wanted in this city--but not as a walking companion.

Consider his curiosity caught.

"'Course." Taking a hand out of his pocket, Remy gestured for her to pick a direction. His other hand was sliding against the slick back of a ready card. Queen of Hearts might be appropriate. "Not everyday a man gets an offer ta walk wi't an angel."

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

She smiled at the compliment, used to them but flattery was always a weakness of hers. "Goodness dear, you'll make me blush." He probably wouldn't but there was no need to point it out.

"I have a place, come with me." Without invitation, Emma slid her arm to link with his and started them along the side-walk. It wasn't a city she was familiar with, but she could easily pick out directions and locate her hotel.

As with everything else, Emma demanded the best, and was given the best. "I have some things I'd like to discuss with you, Mr LeBeau. I think we'll be more comfortable away from prying eyes and ears."

His reputation preceded him. And so too did the problematic conditions surrounding his welcome, or lack there of, in New Orleans. She dared to say things would be smoother in her hotel suite rather than a cosy little lounge somewhere.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

Remy had never been one to turn away the attention of women--especially beautiful ones--but while he let her link her arm through his, he was more ready than ever for an attack. It didn't show in his loping stride.

"Woman always tryin' to get Remy alone," he said in a teasing, put-upon voice. That he'd just come from the grave of his recently dead wife had no impact on the face he showed the world. Bella was his business, not theirs, and Remy didn't want pity or advice. "Mus' be de smile," he murmured, flashing a grin. Remy didn't have perfect teeth but with a smile like his it hardly seemed to matter.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

"Among other things." Emma enjoyed to flirt, regardless of situation, and he was just making it easy. "I'm sure you could just look at a pretty girl and she'd fall into your arms."

Turning a corner, Emma tightened her arm through his, leaning against him with a smirk. "Maybe you're just that charming."

Figuring out the where's and when's and how's of Remy LeBeau's actions had been trial in itself, however, Emma found that it was fascinating. Like a study into a mind she couldn't quite reach. Not that she hadn't tried.

"I promise to be a nice as you ask." She gave him a side glance, "or not."

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

The grin on the thief's face widened crookedly. "Usually it takes a word, ma belle; even Remy don't t'ink himself good enough to drop a lady wi't a look."

The way she tightened her arm and leaned into him made Remy very aware of how many opportunities he was presenting her with. Kidneys. Lungs, though she might not be able to get quite enough force. Throat. He had no illusions due to her gender--he'd seen women quicker than himself with a knife and he knew just how good he was. He had no illusions about women killing, either. He had seen too much to call them the gentler sex.

Remy met her glance and despite his glasses it might be easy to be under the impression that all his intent was focused on her alone. Right then, she was the center of a very small universe. It was in the tilt of his shoulder and chin. The way his steps carried him slightly against her.

Ol Remy knew all the tricks. He knew how to dance, and dance well.

"Maybe I won't be askin' you to be nice at all," Remy said, his voice a silky purr.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

She lifted one shoulder, tipping her neck and head towards him and smiling. To any passer by, they were a couple, walking along the street, flirting. Although she felt the minute shift in his body, the tensing of muscles as he shifted and walked, Emma wouldn't comment.

Trust, so blindly given, wasn't something she expected, nor something she wanted. She had no use for people willing to trust a pretty face and catching eye. "That works fine with me."

As they reached her hotel, a glitzy little place that locals would recognise, Emma wound herself closer to him, smiling just a fraction more. Her connections got her the place, high class and elegant, nothing well known enough to be busy and out of the way. They didn't ask questions, and Emma wasn't needed to give answers. "Come with me."

She whispered against the shell of his ear, leading them into the cage elevator where the grate was closed behind them and Emma pressed for the top floor.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

She was warm; the length of her body, the whisper against his ear, it was all a promise of something warmer. Remy might have felt very alone on that particular night but he wasn't desperate or stupid. This woman was playing a very dangerous game, admitting that she knew his name--especially in this city--and then trying to take him for a fool by leading him around by the cock.

Remy backed the beautiful woman against the wrought iron cage and it sang softly under their weight. They were close like that, face to face, close enough to share breath when he tipped his face down. Her arms were followed by his hands, shoulder to elbow and then to slim wrists which he neatly trapped, his fingers folding through metal to hold them with a teasing force.

"Maintenant, ma belle," Remy whispered against her mouth. His voice was like a physical pull, a tide that kept going out. "Why you really here lookin' after Remy?" Of course she could tell him the truth, his voice was saying. The truth was easy and she could trust him.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

She smirked as his fingers laced around her wrists, almost touching from chest to knee. Emma bit her bottom lip with that smirk, letting the hum of his voice run over her.

Of course she felt the suggestion behind it, the soft, easy coaxing for something oh so simple. She was just as well versed in persuasion of the indulgent kind as he was.

"I have a proposition for you," she tilted her head back, her lips hardly brushing against his, but her breath ghosting over them instead. "One I think it will be in your best interest to at least hear." She didn't bother calling him out the suggestion. She would allow him to believe she didn't notice, for now.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

She answered, so Remy had no way of knowing that his little charm had failed. Every answer he'd ever gotten to his vocal suggestions had been a little different in its give--as different as the women (and men) who had given them. Some people simply folded their hand faster than others, or with less flare.

When the woman tilted her head back it was easy for Remy to smell her, the scent subtle and clean. Expensive. Appropriate. His nose brushed the corner of her jaw just under her ear and he chuckled. "Oh oui? Den do tell." The pull was still in his voice.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Emma just grinned, he didn't need to know that she was more than aware of his little ability. She knew more about his powers than potentially even he knew. And knowledge was power.

"I think this will require a little more," the elevator jerked to a stop on the floor, Emma smirking, "privacy." Emma wasn't in the habit of giving her pitch in such a common place as an elevator, regardless of her charming the potential was.

"My suite is along the hall." Since he hadn't yet released her wrists, nor had he backed away. Although she saw no reason to complain.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

"Mmhmm," Remy rumbled. "'Cept dat your suite has also got nooks and crannies, chere." The door sat open and yet his fingers did not let go of the metal caging he had trapped her wrists against. His nose didn't move from the point of her pulse. "So I t'ink dat we're just gonna stay right here and you can tell me your offer."

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Thieves, always so paranoid. "I want you," she paused, dramatic effect she had. Her head tilting just right for her lips to brush his ear as she spoke, "to join me, in my suite, to discuss a place I have for you."

A quick scan of the surrounding rooms presented no threat. She couldn't find any hint of an eavesdropper. Although one could never be too careful. Hmm, perhaps she was just as paranoid. "My name is Emma Frost," her voice was less of a whisper now, and she pulled back just a little, letting her mouth brush his cheek as she twisted her wrists slightly, "and I would like you to join my Hellions."

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

Ah, but she had given herself away. Remy didn't understand it but he didn't question it either--this woman was not swayed by his intentions. If she had been then she would not have wanted to set foot outside the elevator, not after he'd told her where they would stay.

As her mouth brushed his cheek--he had not shaved in a few days and could feel the skin of her mouth brush the stubbled--and she spoke, Remy was letting go of her right hand. A heartbeat later, less, he had a switchblade out of his pocket, opened, and pressed against the delicious line of her pale neck even as her throat bobbed with, "my Hellions."

Behind his glasses, Remy's eyes narrowed. "How did you find me?" No coaxing pigdeon now, no pull behind his voice, no charm at all. "Here? On dis day?" His blade pressed closer to her throat. "Speak up, Emma, it would be a shame to have t' bleed an angel."

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Eyebrow raising, her lips tugged into her casual smirk, "Well, Remy, I would've found you before now if you weren't quick as a ferret out of town." Clearly, his little suggestions got him far too much, far too easily.

"But you won't get the chance to bleed anything, dear. So I suggest you lower the blade." While she might be incapable of reading his mind, she doubted she'd have too much problem crushing his throat with a diamond grip. And she'd hate to have to do that. Truly.

"Eyes see, and minds are easy to read. Well," she dared the barest shrug, "most minds are."

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

Remy frowned at her for another moment before the knife was lowered, flicked shut and slid into a pocket in the same seamless movement that stepped him backward. A closed fist smacked the door open button--it had closed again while they'd talked--and the doors slid open to reveal the hall once again. The flat of his palm was put against the frame.

"Some habits are hard to break, belle damme. And some would cost a t'ief his life. After you." It wasn't acceptance. But Remy believed that she wasn't sent by the Guild and that was enough for him for now.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Brushing her coat off, Emma stepped past the doors with a smile. "Lets just keep the little tools in our pockets for now, hmm?" The tease was quite clear, and Emma didn't glance back to check he followed her as she stepped along the hall.

Taking her key from her pocket, she opened the door and entered, standing back to hold the door for him this time. "Please, do make yourself comfortable."

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

"Dey not all little," Remy murmured as he fell into step behind Emma, glancing back down the hall once to check their back. It was habit. Paranoia was a habit. Living was a habit.

Living had become a habit. What did he have left? Killing all those mutants. Bella gone.

Remy shook his head just before Emma pushed the door open for him. A hand raised to slide fingers through his hair and out of his face as he stepped past her. Inside the room his sunglasses were taken off and folded, hung in the crook of his black button down. He made a quick case of the suite without embarrasment, opening the closest and the bathroom and finally the glass slider. Nothing.

Standing on the deck with a view of the lights of the French Quarter, Remy pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "So you're a telepath." In the dark of the balcony his strange eyes were hidden.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

"Yes," there was no point in denying it. She'd be telling him anyway. "I run a school in Boston, for mutants. And from there, stems my Hellions." She took off her coat, folding it over one of the chairs, moving to her small cabinet and taking out two glasses and a bottle of bourbon.

When in Rome.

"And you," she leaned against the cabinet, crossing her legs at the ankles, the move carefully calculated to look casual even as it pulled her knee length skirt tight and caused the slit at the side to expose just enough thigh. "You are a rather interesting case, Mr LeBeau."

With a measure of bourbon in each glass, she put the bottle aside and offered a glass to him.

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

A school for mutants. Remy had heard about those but never gotten close to any. He wasn't a student, saints no. And his powers... well. They were fine, now. Case closed.

Remy's eyes flicked down to that exposure of creamy thigh before coming up to the bourbon. He was only a man, after all. And Emma did smell delightful. His lips curled into a crooked smile that he settled his cigarette between--one fingertip to the end ignited it with a contained burst of pinkish flame that smouldered down to a burning red. Remy stepped inside, leaving the door wide. The second glass was taken in one hand, the other taken the smoke from his lips and offering it to Emma.

"You flatter me. I'm jus' ol Remy. Little flash and bang, dat's all." He smelled the bourbon before taking a sip.

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Taking the cigarette, her smile welcoming as he continued his little paranoid ritual, Emma took a drag, enjoying the exhale before handing the cigarette back.

"I think we both know that you're a lot more than flash and bang, dear." Emma said pointedly. It wasn't about the current state of things, simply what could be. The potential in him, the learning curve, that chance at greatness. Emma wasn't likely to over look that.

"The Hellions is a training squad. Training for bigger and better things." She sipped her own drink, bending slightly at the waist and turning her head to look into those marvellously different eyes. "A stepping stone into the future."

[takethegamble.insanejournal.com]

A better man might had told Emma that she didn't have to expose her thighs or tits as a bargaining chip. Remy wasn't a better man--he just enjoyed the view.

He took the cigarette and set it between his teeth as he leaned back against the arm of a chair. The arm holding the bourbon was lightly crossed over his chest. Remy exhaled through his nose. "I don't know what you know," he said with a shake of his head. He hoped she didn't know everything. "As for the future..."

There was a grin splashed onto his face at the thought. It was loose, and fierce, and for one who could read it right, damn near suicidial. Remy was floating. "I'm not sure what you could possibly offer me."

[ms-emma-frost.insanejournal.com]

Emma's tendency to expose any part of her body was just another exercise in power. She knew how to use it, and she did so quite well.

Moving from her position, Emma stood and walked to his chair, leaning to take the cigarette from his mouth and take her own drag once more. She had to take a moment to try and figure him out. It wasn't often that she couldn't just snatch out the wants and desires so easily from their minds.

"Well, I'm a woman of many talents," she held the cigarette between her fingers, still leaning over just a touch. "Why don't you make a request, and maybe you'll find out."