Chapter Fourteen: The Renegade
I never knew that I could feel like this
Can hardly wait til our next kiss
You’re so cool
And if I’m dreamin’ please don’t wake me up
Cause, baby, I can’t get enough
Of what you do
~Martina McBride
Ororo speaks:
I have never been particularly impulsive. In fact, for most of my adult life, I prided myself for being the rational and calm one. I never ran out in the middle of the night to do much of anything. Actually, I believe my first impulsive decision was made with Logan.
I am quite happy to say my last was as well.
That night so much changed between Logan and I. I never told him, but during that zoo trip I actually realized he would outlive me. My quietness had come from the knowledge that even if I spent the rest of my life in his arms, he would die alone. A sobering thought.
It really did not matter, though. I was in love, truly and completely, for the first time in my thirty-one years. Asking him to marry me was impulsive, but one of the best impulses I have ever had. My love for Logan was all consuming, even more so after we made love that night. Though I spent countless times in the throes of passion with him, that single instance reigns supreme in my mind.
As it does, though, reality came crashing down around our budding family’s new cocoon. Logan and I were…exploring the finer points of becoming a couple when the call came. Once again, I had to rush into the Bayou in search of my friend.
~**~
“Logan!” Ororo’s laughter was muffled in the early morning light, fearful of waking Prita too early.
She felt him smirk against her thigh, the bulging duvet shifted as he did. Ororo’s naughty grin was not visible to her playmate, but she waited with bated breath as he sniffed his way up her legs. Every touch further fueled the flames of desire he seemed keen on keeping carefully stoked at all times.
He growled playfully from under the sheets, one of his hands suddenly on her bare ribcage. She squealed with laughter as he tickled her.
“Shush, woman!” he whispered hoarsely. “You’ll wake the munchkin an’ then fun’s over!”
Clapping a hand over her mouth, she tried desperately to calm herself. It was not really an option when Logan’s full attention was on her like this. He was an attentive and seemingly insatiable lover. Ororo was quite sure she knew exactly how his hands and mouth and body felt against every inch of her skin. She would never tire of the sensation.
The phone rang.
Groans came from above and below the comforter.
“Don’t answer it.” Logan whispered conspiratorially, pulling the duvet down so he could see her face.
“I have to,” she replied, grabbing for the cordless receiver.
Logan caught her wrist in his hand and tried to pry the phone from her grasp. Laughing still, Ororo fought with him, attempting to regain control to no avail. They were both giddy from an excess of emotion and sexual bliss, so neither was truly on top of their game.
Finally, Logan distracted Ororo with one of those toe-curling kisses and he won their impromptu tussle. He smirked at her, pressing the cordless to his ear.
“Somebody better be dead or dyin’,” he growled into the receiver.
Something or someone immediately wiped the grin from Logan’s face. He thrust the phone to her, leaving Ororo to place it at her ear while he all but jumped out of her bed. Naked as the day he was born, he began pulling his clothing on.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God!”
“Rogue?”
Worried at the obvious tears and strain in her voice, Ororo sat bolt upright, frowning. Logan was attempting to put her shirt on instead of his, so she waved at him, pointing to the sweat-scented shirt hanging on the bedpost.
“Ah’m in trouble,” the Southern girl was saying. “They…They came inta the room an’ took him. Ah couldn’t do anythin’!”
“Rogue, calm down, mon chou,” Ororo said using one of Gambit’s frequent endearments.
“Yah don’ understan’, Storm!” Rogue’s voice was high pitched with panic. “Ah don’t know who they were or where they took him! We’re on a boat for cryin’ out loud!”
Thinking fast, Ororo closed her eyes. Gambit’s easy return to New York was strange, as she’d told Logan. But had he given her any indication to why? Flipping through various scenarios in her head, she heard Prita cry.
Her lover immediately went into the adjoining room, leaving Storm to contemplate.
“Rogue, listen to me,” she said as calmly as she could. “The men that took Gambit, did they have tattoos on their hands?”
Silence.
“Yeah!” Rogue said suddenly as though a light bulb had lit up over her head. “A little dagger makin’ the bridge of an “A”.”
“Assassins,” Ororo spat the word distastefully. “Why did they leave you?”
Her young friend sniffled audibly. “Gambit saw ‘em comin’, he hid me in the air vent. He told me that Ah had ta call ya if somethin’ happened ta him.”
“All right, breathe Rogue.”
Logan reappeared with Prita in his arms a moment later, looking at her worriedly. All of the lazy, playfulness was gone from the room, which she grieved for. Something like this was always bound to happen to them. For the first time, Ororo did not think their lives were fair.
“What do Ah do?”
“Is the captain of the Renegade still Mr. Ely Yoemen?”
“Yeah, Ah think so.”
“Go to the Captain, tell him that Rory Munroe will rendezvous with the ship in a few hours to intercept the Assassins,” Ororo ordered the girl crisply. “He will protect you. Stay on the ship, do you understand me?”
“Yeah, Ah understan’.” Rogue’s voice was teary, making Ororo’s heart ache.
“Do not fret, my girl,” she soothed. “Wolverine and I will be there soon. We will find Gambit.”
“A-All right. Ah’ll be here.”
The girl cut the connection abruptly. Storm turned the phone off, bringing it down from her ear. Staring at it, anger built so swiftly inside her she tossed the receiver across the room, making it smash the gilded mirror over her dresser. Glass and plastic shattered as one, making Logan step back, protectively covering Prita with one arm.
“What in the name of hel”heck is goin’ on?”
Storm gathered the bed sheets around her nude body, moving to her family. She kissed Prita’s confused face softly, then met Logan’s eyes.
“We must arrange for the others to look after our daughter,” she said quietly. “We must go to Louisiana.”
He was quiet for a moment, his lips brushing Prita’s temple. “You said ‘our’ daughter.”
A little surprised by the slip up, Ororo smiled bashfully. When she met his eyes again, she nodded slowly.
“She is,” Ororo whispered. “Perhaps not by blood, but she is your daughter as much as mine in every way that matters.”
The look that crossed Logan’s handsome face was one she would never be able to name. Such tenderness and love would have seemed impossible to her just months ago. Now she wondered how she could have missed such a thing for so long.
“Yeah,” he whispered softly a moment later. “I’m definitely marryin’ ya, makin’ her mine by law.”
Ororo leaned up to kiss his lips, a sweet, chaste kiss that made her smile through the worry and fear creeping into her heart.
“Then we had best recover Gambit quickly.”
~**~
“The Assassins are another branch of organized crime in the Bayou,” Storm briefed her lover as they soared above the clouds in a smaller version of the X-Men’s jet.
“The Thieves Guild and the Assassins Guild are ancient blood enemies,” she continued as he piloted. “Remy was adopted by the leader of the Thieves Guild and he swiftly discovered he had a knack for the art of theft. When Remy and I became friends some years ago, I was inducted into the Guild as well.”
“So, why do ya think they took Gumbo?” Wolverine questioned, making some small correction in their path.
Offended, Ororo crossed her arms under her breasts and glared at him. “Gumbo?”
Wolverine glanced at her, shrugging one shoulder. “I can’t just say “Cajun”, cause we’re dealin’ with a ton of ‘em.”
“I do not find it humorous,” she said tartly.
“Well, let’s ask Gumbo what he thinks when we find him.”
Annoyed, Ororo shook her head and continued. “There could be many reasons why the Assassins want Gambit. He has crossed paths with them more times than I can count. Hrmm. I wonder if they ever rescinded the price on my head.”
“You have a price on yer head?” Logan asked, turning toward her.
Storm shrugged, she’d not thought about that in a long time. “I did. Gambit and I stole a very rare jewel from the leader of the Assassins Guild. Actually, it was a brilliant theft. Not many could have come away from it as Remy and I did. I believe the art of the theft was what annoyed the Assassins so.”
“My future wife is a fugitive from justice,” he said somewhat proudly.
“Logan,” she chided half-heartedly. “As I said, it could be payback, Gambit could have a hefty ransom on his head or perhaps they want him as blackmail for Papa Jean.”
“Papa who?”
“Oh,” Storm shook her head, reminding herself that Logan was largely in the dark about this aspect of her past. “Jean-Luc LeBeau, Remy’s adoptive and my surrogate father. The leader of the Thieves Guild. A powerful man on the Bayou.”
“Great,” Logan all but snarled. “So, what’s the plan, Rory?”
Snorting at his use of her former alias, Ororo checked the navigation equipment. “First we locate and recover Rogue. Then, I will see Papa Jean. He will have information for us.”
“Sounds like fun,” her love said before launching into a hummed rendition of “Down on the Bayou”.
Ororo restrained herself from smacking him only because he gave her a very teasing grin as she tried to remain cross with him. It had been years since she’d left New Orleans. She wondered if things would be similar to the way she had left them. Would Papa Jean even recognize her now?
What would they say about Logan?
Many of her old friends were told about the X-Men, or at least something close. They knew Ororo or Rory worked for good people up north. Papa Jean had a standing policy that she was to be treated as a Thief at all times, protected as one of their own. She knew, without a doubt, that something large was happening in Louisiana. One did not abduct Remy LeBeau without knowing the consequences.
Her heart ached a little, leaving Prita behind just a few hours ago. Cyclops and Renee would remain at the mansion caring for the child, with Jubilee and Kitty helping. Both girls had requested to come along, but the Bayou was Ororo’s territory. She could navigate and investigate much more easily with just two of her companions.
Logan would be brought into the fold by proxy as Ororo’s fiancé; Rogue had likely already met several of Remy’s friends and therefore would be associated with him. The others would take more time to gain the trust of Papa Jean and the Guild. Time, she felt, they did not have.
“We’re comin’ up on the landin’ site,” Wolverine said a moment later. “Gonna set us down an’ you can fly us to the boat.”
“Fine,” she nodded, unhooking her harness as Logan put the small jet down.
The private estate where they landed was Guild property, used for various types of smuggling and illegal activities. A brief call to the LeBeau estate had gotten her clearance to house the jet there, and as a personal favor, no greeting party was sent.
It took only a few moments for the couple to leave the jet. They were not dressed in uniforms, but civilian clothing that befitted their “rank”. Logan, as usual, donned jeans and a t-shirt topping it all off with a beaten bomber jacket, boots and a Stetson.
Ororo, however, had to slip into her part as Rory. When Logan first glimpsed her tight leather pants, cleavage-heavy black top and sweeping black duster, he’d made them both quite late. She still wanted to giggle when remembering his wide-eyed, mouth-agape look of shock.
“Ship should be just a mile or so due west,” Logan said, adjusting his hat.
“All right,” she nodded once he’d locked the jet. “Are you prepared?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A sharp sting behind her eyes turned them from blue to white as she gathered a gentle, slightly humid wind to carry them toward the water. Logan seemed relaxed, letting her control the situation as he held on to his Stetson. He might forgive her for dropping him into the Bayou, but heaven help her if he lost his favorite hat.
Together they flew over the lush swamps and green water that signified this area of the country. Ororo let herself breathe deeply of the familiar scents of home, noting that Logan seemed to be sneezing quite a bit.
“Is something the matter?” she called to him over the winds.
“Too many damned smells. I wanna scratch my damn nose off.”
She laughed a little, adjusting the winds so that scent drifted away from them. His thankful smile was returned by a kiss blown his way.
They found the ship steaming along the between the wide banks of the Bayou. Ororo set them down on the rooftop, noting that someone had the foresight to ensure the top level was completely cleared. She gently deposited her lover before landing beside him.
“Ok,” Logan said, smoothing his hair. “Where’s Rogue?”
“Here,” she said, punching in a code on a keypad by a thick metal door. “Ely is likely keeping her in his private lounge. It is easily defended.”
“Smart guy,” Logan commented as he opened the door for her.
The ship was posh and decadent, exactly what someone paying to stay and play on it wanted. Ororo and Remy had come here countless times, picking pockets and fixing poker games. It was a relaxing pastime for the professional thieves, though Storm did feel slightly ashamed for her skills in that area.
“Miss Munroe.”
She smiled and waved, holding Logan back with a flick of her free wrist. Mookie, an older gentleman who ran the Renegade’s security motioned to her from the opposite end of the thickly carpeted hall.
“We have been expecting you,” Mookie grinned, flashing a row of gold teeth. “Your young friend is dining with the captain.”
“Thank you, Mookie,” Ororo winked at him, ducking into another long corridor.
Logan followed quietly. She glanced at him over her shoulder, confirming that he seemed to be taking everything in. He always liked to watch and assess, given the proper time to do so. Ororo pointed to a metallic hatch marked “Captain’s Quarters”.
“Here we are.”
She knocked twice and paused before repeating the process. Ely Yoemen was an old friend of Papa Jean’s, so several of the Thieves’ codes were known to him. She waited patiently, glancing at her lover, who seemed to have his sensitive ears trained on the doorway.
“She’s in there,” he sounded relieved. “An’ she ain’t too afraid.”
“Ely is a good man,” Storm smiled when the door opened.
Ely Yoemen was a tall, Baton Rouge native with a thick, mostly gray beard. His smile was familiar, though tinged with sadness.
“My Rory,” he greeted, shaking her hand warmly. “If I had known I had Assassins on my boat…”
“I know,” she cut in. “Where is Marie?”
“In here,” he beckoned her closer, then stopped, his eyes traveling to her companion.
“My fiancé, Logan,” she introduced quickly. “Logan, this is Ely, Captain of the Renegade.”
“Nice to meet ya,” Wolverine nodded, shaking the other man’s hand. “Nice place ya got here.”
“Thank you,” Ely motioned them both to follow him into the spacious quarters.
The rooms were exactly as Ororo remembered them. Walls were adorned with paintings and models of old ships. His carpeting had been recently cleaned, but it was still the color of red wine. Upon an antique settee was young Rogue, her legs tucked up under her as she gazed out of the tiny porthole, a sorrowful look on her lovely face.
“Hey, kid,” Logan called to her, instantly gaining her full attention.
“Ya came!”
A flying ball of tears hit Logan in the chest. Ororo narrowing missed getting trampled by Ely’s protective grasp. She glanced at her old friend, shaking her head with amusement. In a low tone, she explained that the two were close, so they gave the girl and her hero a moment to speak.
“Ah’ve been so scared, Logan,” Marie was saying, muffled by his jacket. “They jus’ took him away an’ he didn’t say Ah was there.”
“It’s ok,” the other mutant replied quietly. “’Ro an’ I’ll find him and you’ll help, right?”
“Course Ah’ll help!” she exclaimed, turning to embrace Ororo. “Hi, Storm.”
“Why don’t we all have some port while young Marie explains what happened in her quarters.”
The group settled into the plush seating in the Captain’s sitting room. Logan and Rogue occupied one settee while Ororo sat beside Ely, speaking in clipped French for a moment.
What her friend did not want to say in front of Marie was not good news. Ororo glanced at Logan, knowing his Canadian French would likely pick up some of what Ely was saying. He explained that Papa Jean had called just moments before the kidnapping, urging the aging captain to usher Remy and his companion off of the ship. Unfortunately, Jean-Luc had not been swift enough. By the time Ely’s men made it to the lower decks, Remy was gone and Rogue had phoned Xavier’s mansion.
When questioned, Ely revealed that Jean-Luc had seemed anxious and would not tell him why he feared for Remy’s safety. Of course, in this area, one was usually not wise to question the direct word of someone like Papa Jean.
“All right,” Ororo said at last in English. “Rogue, tell us exactly what happened.”
The Southern belle launched into the entire tale. How she and Remy decided a vacation was in order and took off for his old stomping grounds. He’d shown her how to play poker and they danced all night in the ballroom section of the ship. They’d just been blowing off steam, having some fun that wasn’t related to mutant powers and the inevitable war with “normal” humans.
Just a few hours ago, they were heading back to their rooms after an all night poker marathon “ in which Remy did not cheat and still took home scores of money “ when Remy felt as though he were being watched.
He ushered Marie into her room, popped open the ventilation hatch and stuffed her inside with strict instructions to contact Storm if something happened to him. Scant seconds after hiding his young love, Remy was attacked inside Rogue’s room. He’d fought for several moments, only to be detained by a threat to locate Marie and kill her.
Remy went quietly after eliciting their solemn vow that Rogue would not be harmed. At this point, Rogue burst into tears, comforted by Logan’s embrace.
Ely went on, saying that a small boat had been launched from the starboard side of the ship just before Rogue came rushing out of her room, screaming for a telephone. The rest, Logan and Ororo knew.
This information was grave. Ororo had a feeling that Remy’s kidnapping was not a result of some wrong doing on his part. If Papa Jean had tried to warn his son, it was because the elder man had stepped on the wrong person’s toes.
“What now?” Logan growled, still rocking an emotional Rogue.
“We go to Papa Jean,” Storm said coolly. “Is he still at the estate?”
“Yes,” Ely replied promptly. “In an hour we will be within range of the estate, which is why I set this course.”
“Thank you, ami,” she replied with a smile. “I will call Charles and explain the situation to him. If I know Papa Jean…”
“And you do, better than most,” Ely chimed in.
“He has already arranged to retrieve Gambit,” she finished. “If that is the case, we will make the drop ourselves. No Assassin will take Gambit’s life. You have my word, Rogue.”
“Thanks for comin’,” the girl said in a small voice. “Ah thought you two’d be madder than hornets.”
“Oh, we were, trust me.” Logan smirked at Storm. “But we kinda got over that part.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “But that is a tale for another time. Come, let us eat and refresh ourselves. I fear there is a long night ahead of us.”
