Papa's Little Angel
by Kerri
X-Men belong to Marvel. Dreux, and other unknowns, belong to me. For entertainment purposes. Feedback worshipped.Sappy story warning.
"Papa?"
Remy LeBeau looked up at the soft voice, the papers on the
desk infront of him forgotten in favor of the little girl
fidgeting in the doorway. As always, his heart melted at the
sight of her, and he fell in love with his daughter all over
again. It had been like this from the moment Dr. Jacobo put the
precious bundle of screaming newborn in his arms the
very first time. "Oui, p'tite?"
"May I speak with you?"
He smiled at her formal request. Dreux was such a compulsive mimic; even now she still copied Ororo's careful phrasing during the several days since her visit. It would be several more days before she returned to the familiar speech patterns of her mother's southern drawl and his own cajun french. Remy supposed he should be grateful she hadn't spent any time with Hank recently. It was hard enough to follow Beast's conversation at times, hearing it flow from his 8 year old daughter's rosebud lips was almost too much to bear.
He pushed the chair away from the desk and patted his lap. "Come tell your papa everyt'ing, Dreux." She flew across the carpet on light steps, throwing herself into his arms. Papa always had time for her.
Remy gathered her to him and hugged her tightly, stroking the thick auburn hair back from her face. Absently he noted it needed brushing again; she'd probably been too anxious to play with her cousins to allow her mother to do the job properly. Rogue was just as bad as he was when it came to indulging her, and Sara and Nicademis would only be visiting for a few weeks before leaving with their parents for San Francisco.
Her grasp around his neck tightened and her breath caught in an almost sob. "What's wrong, p'tite?" he asked, now concerned with her upset.
"It's not true, is it, papa?"
"What's not true?" He pulled her arms down to set her back on his lap so he could look at her, holding her hands in his. He couldn't stopthe rush of satisfaction at her beautiful face, so like his own. Only her eyes marked her as different, black with golden irises. "Tell papa de problem so he can slay de evil dragon for his princess."
"I was playing with Sara and Nicky."
Logan's and Charlotte's twins were a year older than Dreux, the two little girls fast friends and dedicated mischief makers. They drove Nicademis crazy on a regular basis.
"Nicky said I don't belong to you and Mama," she continued in a worried voice. "He said I belong to Aunt Char, and she could come and take me away any time she wants to."
"He said all that?"
"Sara hit him and said she was going to tell Aunt Char what he said,but he said he wasn't afraid, because he saw the papers in the safe. He said Aunt Char didn't want me so I had to come and live with you."
For a long moment he sat still, her eyes watching him for any sign of reaction. She was so intelligent, his darling child, he wouldn't be able to put her off with a story. Despite his urge to find Nicademis and beat some sense into the boy for hurting his little girl, if his parents haven't already taken care of the situation, Remy grudgingly admitted to himself he had to take some responsibility for this fiasco. He was the one who taught the boy to open safes.
"Dat's not true, p'tite. You wan' to hear de story? How Mama an' Papa got so lucky to have you for a little girl?"
"I know the story, papa. Mama couldn't have a baby herself, so Aunt Char had me for her. I just want to know if what Nicky said is true? Can Aunt Char take me away?" Her hands moved from his to clutch at his shirt.
"The truth, ma p'tite belle, is dat you belong to me an' your mama. No one can ever take you away from us."
"What about the papers Nicky saw?" He leaned back in his chair, nestling her head against his shoulder. "Nicademis didn' understand what he read, an' he shouldn' be snoopin' where he doan belong. Papa will have a talk wi' him, an' his mama and papa."
"Bishop heard Sara tell him she was going to tell Aunt Char, and he took him to the gym to readjust his attitude." Remy chuckled. He had no doubt Bishop used that exact phrase, and he was fairly sure the austere security officer would then deliver the boy to his mother and father for additional correction.
Bishop divided his time between the Ashcroft-Logan household, theLeBeau residence and the mansion. For some reason he had yet to explain, Bishop took it upon himself to supplement the three children's physical training. He and Rogue discussed it with Char and Logan and they'd decided to allow him to continue his efforts. He wouldn't hurt them, and he had a great deal to share.
It hadn't taken Bishop long to grow accustomed to the little
girls' a bit of hugging and kissing him. While he would never be
a
demonstrative person, he no longer had the 'deer in the
headlights' expression when one of them came racing down the hall
at him.
"We have de same papers. You want to read dem?"
"May I?"
"Mais oui." He swiveled around and opened the bottom desk drawer reveal a safe. After opening it and taking out a file, he closed it up and laid it on the desk top. "Dere you are."
Dreux sat up on his lap and slowly removed the cover. Across
the first page, in big red letters, was stamped the word COPY.
"Your mama and papa and Aunt Char and Uncle Logan all have
dese papers. We used to live a very dangerous life, p'tite,"
he told her, running his fingers through her hair, combing out
the tangles and watching the early summer sunshine play on the
highlights. "We wanted you more'n anyt'ing. Aunt Char did us
a very great t'ing in bein' your mama for a li'l while. She love
you very much, too."
"You mean when you and Mama were X-Men?" Thanks to Bobby, all the children knew things about their parents' former lives that most of them wish they didn't know.
"Oui." Younger students now took their places; it
had been a relief to be able to leave the mansion and settle down
back here in New Orleans. He and Rogue had managed to live a very
quiet life raising their daughter. It suited them both. He'd even
become a successful businessman; in the security industry, of all
things. Ororo had given him the idea. She suggested that
companies should hire him to break in and steal from them, then
he could tell him how to stop the next thief. Rogue encouraged
him to try it, and their gamble paid off. In spades, he was fond
of saying to the groans of those who knew him.
Now top companies around the world quietly hired his services and
paid his exorbitant fees. Sometimes Logan assisted him, bringing
his considerable talents along for Remy's use, as did Charlotte,
Bobby and Bishop on occasion. He could pick and choose his
contracts to suit his schedule, and he scheduled a lion's share
of his time for his family. They weren't the only ones who had
made a life for themselves outside of Xavier's dream. Charlotte
and Logan had taken their children and left. Warren and Betsy
were no longer active members, though they stayed together. Hank
found a place in private research where he was appreciated for
the scientist he was. Bobby finally settled down; as a fine
accountant, part-time for his teammates and former teammates,
anda full-time father to two little boys.
Only rarely did they go back to the mansion to visit Scott, Jean, and their children, except on a special occasions. There were times when experience was preferred over youth and enthusiasm, and they were all more than willing to lend a hand.
"Aunt Char's ain' like most mutants, Dreux. She's lived a long time,an' she'll live a lot longer den all o' us. One o' de t'ings she wanted was to have you back if anyt'ing ever happen to your Mama an' Papa."
"If you and Mama die, I would go live with Aunt Char and Uncle Logan?"
"Oui. She be your guardian, because she's your mama, too. You will live a very long time, jus' like her an' Sara an' Nicademis. Like Thomas." Thomas was a favorite of both his half sisters. "Dese papers mean dat she can take care of you if we're not here."
"So, in a way, I do belong to her, but I belong to you and Mama more."
"'Xactly, p'tite. Next time you tell dat boy to mind his own business, or your papa gonna have a talk wi' him."
"Sara said there won't be anything left of him after
Bishop finishes his lesson and gives him to Uncle Logan. Uncle
Logan doesn't like it when I cry." Logan was such a softy
when the girls looked at him with their big teary, golden doe
eyes. He just caved in to their demands, grumbling about it later
to Charlotte. Remy chuckled again. As if he was any better. Dreux
and Sara both had him wrapped around their little fingers. Heaven
help them both when their darlings started attracting boys.
Dreux closed the file and turned herself in her father's lap so
she could watch his eyes. "If something happened to Aunt
Char and Uncle Logan who would take care of me and Sara and
Nicky?" "Dere be plenty o' aunts an' uncles who would
want you, like Aunt 'Ro. I t'ink Thomas would be first in line,
tho'."
She nodded, her small world finally making sense again, and kissed his cheek. If Papa said it was true, then it must be true. "Merci, papa." Climbing down from his lap, she ran back out the door, her voice raised in an imperious manner, also courtesy of Storm, calling for Sara. No doubt to inform her of what she'd learned and where Nicademis was wrong. Remy rested a hand on the folder, remembering the negotiations that had accompanied the contract. Not that Charlotte begrudged them their wish for a child, but the impact her alien genetics would have on a baby that she wouldn't be raising concerned her a great deal more. Ororo had been quite vocal against the contracts, but it had been between himself and Charlotte, and their spouses, he'd told her gently.
It all condensed down to one thing. Charlotte was giving Remy
and Rogue a gift with stipulations. She would allow herself to be
artificially impregnated, would bear the child, give the child an
identity, and then turn over custody to them. All very legal and
above board. In return, they agreed to love and care for the
baby, Charlotte and Logan would be named guardians, with Thomas
as secondary guardian. He and Rogue signed the contracts before
Charlotte could finish
explaining her conditions. They'd wanted a child that badly. It
worked out rather well, he thought. Charlotte had been very good
at practicing hands off - only a few white knuckle moments over
the years. Storm interfered more than Char did.
The one time she did, he and Rogue had been close to separating duringa very dark time in their marriage. Dreux, a smart little thing at 4 years, knew just what to do. She called her Aunt Char, who came to get her. If Mama and Papa were fighting, she wanted to be somewhere else. She was so sensitive, Jean was sure she'd be extremely empathic when she was older.Aunt Char showed up within minutes and whisked their little girl away without a word. They didn't hear from them for days.
Losing Dreux like that, temporary though it was, made an
impression on them. Charlotte made herself quite clear. She
wasn't returning Dreux until they worked out their problems, one
way or another. They worked through it. After Charlotte was
assured of Dreux's well-being, she brought her home. Despite the
scare she'd given them and the utter fury he felt for her
actions, never mind Rogue's promise to teach 'that li'l
interferin' bitch' a thing or two about child stealing, they'd
learned over the years to accept and appreciate Charlotte's idea
of family. It was comforting to know there was a place for Dreux
with people who loved her, that their daughter would not be left
to fend for herself as they had at such young ages.Life wasn't
perfect, but it was good. It was perfect enough for him. He
wouldn't change a single thing. Rogue stood in the doorway.
"Whut was that all about?" she asked. "Dreux's hollerin' like a rebel."
"Children's spat," he smiled at her. After closing and locking the door, she crossed over to seat herself on his lap. How much better could his morning be? Two lovely ladies seeking him out.
She looked at the file on the desk, then raised a brow.
"Problem,sugah?" Her voice flowed over him with just
enough promise of a lazy morning spent away from the mundane work
issues waiting for his attention on his desk. "Jus'
questions," he told her, "Dreux gettin' old 'nough to
want to know t'ings. De kids're talkin' about stuff dey hear. She
wanted to
know de truth." How could he have known at the age of 9 the
woman he met while trying to pick her pocket would be the mother
of his child? Fate worked in mysterious ways. It brought him the
two most precious things in his life, his wife and his daughter.
He kissed his wife. "T'ink Bish'll keep an eye on de kids
for 'while?"
A slow smile crossed her face. "Already thought o' that, swamp rat."
End.