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trip into the Fanfic Graveyard

I even brought flowers for this one! It's from way back in November of last year. The thing started out with Remy being thrust into fatherhood by a woman he had spent one evening with. Little Angelique Simmone LeBeau is the result. Here's a few of my favorite snippets from chapter 2, where she's five years old and getting ready for her first day in kindergarten.


The next morning was a Sunday and that usually meant that Jollie was up well after mid-afternoon. Remy woke up at two thirty in the morning to glowing red eyes that glittered in the dark and a slight weight on his chest.

“It be Sunday Poppa. We goin’ clowes shoppin’?” she chirped. Remy groaned as she got off of him and bounced on the mattress. He flipped on the bedside lamp and winced at the bright light. He groaned again as he saw the time. He had just fallen asleep ten minutes ago.

“Jollie…de stores ain’t open yet. Go back to sleep chère.” Angelique cuddled against his side and pillowed her head on his arm. Remy was asleep in two minutes. He stayed that way for about thirty seconds.

“Poppa?”

“Oui?”

“Are de stores open now?” Remy groaned and turned the light back on again. He reached for his wind up alarm clock and set it for nine o’clock.

“Look chère. When dis goes off, den it be time to get up to go eat breakfast, den get ready, den go to de mall, okay? Now you,” he stood up and hefted her under one arm, making her squeal as his fingers tickled her sides. He went to her bedroom and tucked her in then kissed her cheeks twice, making a loud smacking sound with each kiss that made her giggle some more. “Go to sleep. Poppa loves you, petite.” With that, he left, closing the door behind him a little ways.

Around three in the morning, Hank McCoy woke up to find his niece sitting on the side of his bed, holding an alarm clock in her hands.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in a prone position with your brainwaves going through REM time.”

“Huh?” He looked at her sitting there in a wrinkled pink nightgown, her dark chestnut hair in a wild tangled mess.

“You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Oh. Poppa said dat too.” She held up the alarm clock. “Unca Hank, how do you make dis go off so we can go clowes shoppin’?”

***
Nine o’clock came way too early for Remy LeBeau. He was woken up once again to the sound of a ringing alarm clock. His hand snaked out from under the covers to slap at it, but he found it was not there. Opening his eyes a crack, he saw that Angelique was hopping up and down beside the bed, ringing clock in her hands.

“It’s goin’ off! Time to get up Poppa!” Remy grunted. He never was any good in the morning until he had finished off his third cup of coffee.

“Jollie, why you never wan’ get up in de mornings, but now you be draggin’ your poor papa out of de nice warm bed?” he said, his voice gritty from sleep. He swung his legs out of bed, then stumbled to his bathroom. He stopped in mid-journey to pluck the still ringing alarm clock out of his daughter’s grasp. The thing glowed violet for a second, then made a small popping sound as the internal gears blew. He threw the ruined clock on the bed, then shuffled the rest of the way to the bathroom door. Soon, the sound of running water could be heard.


“We’re goin’ clowes shoppin’ today, Unca Wogan! An’ Poppa said dat I could ask anybody to come wit us!” she chirped, sipping her drink. Logan turned his back to her and started measuring the coffee. He didn’t care who was going to complain, he liked his cup of Joe to be so strong it could step out of the cup and knock somebody out.

“Oh. So you were goin’ in my room ta ask yer Aunt Katie, huh? She’d like that.”

“No Unca Wogan! I was gonna ask you!” Logan rolled his eyes where she couldn’t see him. He hated going shopping, end of story. The only times he did was at Christmas and other holidays, or when Jubilee came to town from L.A., but that was it. He hated the crowds, the prices, and the never ending drone of crappy retro mall music. He turned around and groaned. She was giving him those cute little eyes. He never could resist those eyes. And he hoped nobody would ever know what a damn softie she was making him out to be either. He had a reputation to uphold for being an ornery cuss. Listening as the coffee started dripping into the carafe, he went over and ruffled her hair.

“Okay kiddo. You got yerself a shoppin’ partner.” As soon as he said that, a snicker came from the doorway.

“Shopping? You? The poor kid’s gonna come back with flannel shirts an’ blue jeans! We can’t have her doin’ that, can we Pum’kin?” Bobby asked, spreading the Sunday Comics out on the table. Logan growled at him as he slid on by to grab the doughnuts and then slide back to his seat to read the funnies. Bobby broke off half of his pastry and handed it to her, where she immediately got sugar crumbs stuck in her hair.

“An’ she’d get Hawaiian shirts an’ Bermuda shorts if she went with ya, Popsicle Boy.”

“That’s Mister Popsicle Boy to you, Unca Wogan. Besides, what’s wrong with Hawaiian shirts, huh?” Bobby asked, tugging at the collar of the one he wore. That gave Angelique an idea.

“Unca Bobby, you can come too!” Bobby grinned at her and ruffled her already tangled hair.

“Sure thing Short Stuff. You’ve got yerself a date.”

“To where?” Hank asked, coming in and grabbing another doughnut from the box. He too broke off half and handed the other half to Angelique. This one wasn’t sugary, but she got chocolate smeared over her mouth.

“Unca Hank, you can go wit us! Me an’ Poppa, an’ Unca Wogan, an’ Unca Bobby are goin’ clowes shoppin!” her big ruby eyes lit up at the prospect of her favorite uncles spending some time with her. Hank looked thoughtful.

“Well, I have been needing to go to the mall and purchase another book. This would be a delightful pretext to get out of the mansion,” he mused.

“Is dat a yes?” Hank smiled and ruffled her hair. She frowned. Everybody sure was doing that to her lately.

“Indeed, that is a yes. I’d be delighted to enjoy the company of my favorite niece.”

“Den it looks like we’ve got ourselves a full house,” Remy said, looking in the kitchen door. Rogue, Storm and Jean were with Scott in Alaska taking care of some business there, and he really wanted their input. Betsy and Warren had gone to a business meeting, and the only other female in the house was Kate, and it looked like she was out of commission from whatever partying she and Logan had done the night before. “Ooh, coffee…” Logan stepped in the Cajun’s way.

“Nope Gumbo. I get the first cup,” he snarled. It seemed that Remy wasn’t the only one that couldn’t function without their morning cup of Life.

“G’mornin’ Poppa!” Remy looked down at his girl.

“Mon Dieu! What you people been feedin’ her? Yo’ all messy chère!” Everyone looked at the sugar flakes coating her lower strands of bed-head hair, the chocolate smudged over her mouth, and the orange stain on her nightgown front. Then all the men pointed at the other.

“He did it.”


Well, the men had obviously not gone clothes shopping for a woman in a long time, because before they knew it, one little five year old had racked up a three hundred dollar bill at only one store. The saleslady there had taken a liking to her and showed her all the pretty jumpers, dresses, overalls, shirts, sweaters, and cute little ruffled lace panties a little girl could dream of. And Jollie had to have at least one of them all. The four grown men had to drag her out of there before she decided on getting another wardrobe to match.

They were passing by the hair salon when Remy got the idea of having her hair trimmed for her very first day of school. Jollie had never gotten her hair cut by a professional before, and she looked up at her father with big eyes.

“Will it hurt Poppa?” she asked, looking at the lady with the scissors. Everybody kept on telling Jollie not to mess with scissors, and especially not to run with them. Nobody let her have any fun. Remy laughed and took hold of her hand.

“Non, it won’t hurt. De lady goin’ jus’ cut off a lil’ bit of yo’ hair, an’ den dat’s it.” He looked up at the woman at the front counter, giving her his most charming smile. “Just a lil’ trim for a lil’ girl, neh?” The woman smiled at him and leaned over, showing off plenty of ample cleavage.

“Of course sir. And does your wife want anything else done to your daughter?”

“Madame, Remy don’ got a wife.” The lady’s eyebrows raised.

“Oh, that so? My name’s Cynthia, by the way. Miss Cynthia.” Hank and Bobby rolled their eyes and then left to do some errands of their own. Logan plopped down in a plastic chair and crossed his ankles over the other. Miss Cynthia led Jollie to the back where she introduced her to a beautician and told her to make her look pretty. Ten minutes later, Jollie came hopping to the front, her bangs trimmed prettily, the rest of her hair done in cute corkscrew curls from a curling iron.

“Unca Wogan, do I look pretty?” she chirped. Logan grinned at her.

“Yeah Squirt, ya sure do. You ready Gumbo?” he called out to Remy, who was leaning against the counter and putting on a show for Cynthia. She giggled and then wrote something down on a piece of paper.

“Call me!” Remy simply smiled and waved. Logan shook his head as Jollie grabbed both their hands.

“I can’t believe ya got another dame’s number.” Remy shrugged and smirked.

“What can Remy say? Fatherhood makes him un chick magnet.” They passed by the teenager accessory store and Jollie was entranced by all the pretty shiny things there. What really caught her eye was the huge poster proclaiming all ear piercings were free with a purchase of earrings.

“Poppa! Can I get my ears done?” she asked, hopping up and down excitedly. Remy looked skeptical.

“I don’ know petite. Dat’s supposed to hurt.” Jollie gave him a pout.

“But all my aunts gots holes in their ears! Why can’t I?” Logan looked at Remy.

“Hey, why not Cajun? I’ll even foot the bill this time. Come on lil’ darlin’. Let’s get them ears a’ yers done.”

“Yay! I love ya Unca Wogan!” Logan looked at all the attention her outburst had given them. He tugged the brim of his hat further down his eyes and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m kinda fond a’ ya too kiddo.” Jollie ran in and found the saleslady.

“I wanna get holes in my ears!” she said happily. The lady nodded, then looked around for an adult.

“That’s fine ma’am. I’m payin’ fer this.” The lady brightened and motioned for Logan to put Jollie up on the tall chair at the spot designated for ear piercing. She took out a felt tip marker and made little dots on Jollie’s earlobes, then stood back to see if they were straight or not. Jollie picked out a pair of earrings, with a little help from Logan. He didn’t want the big huge loops that reached her shoulders. He picked the tiny gold studs instead.

“Now hold your head straight for me. I’m going to do the first ear,” the lady said, almost seeming to steel herself for some sort of reaction from Jollie. All Jollie did was smile, then kick her feet around.

“I’m gonna get holes in my ears, just like Auntie Katie, Aunt Rogue, Auntie Orowo, Aunt Jean, Aunt Betsy, Aunt Ju-” her list was cut off when the lady actually pierced her ear. She didn’t give her any time to react, she quickly loaded the piercing gun and did the other ear fast. Jollie sat there, her mouth open and in mid word. Logan looked at her. He could smell the tears starting already. Her cute eyes clouded up and then spilled over, her mouth opening and letting out a loud wail. Remy ran over and glared at the saleslady as he hugged his daughter.

“I’m so sorry petite! Poppa swear he never let anyt’ing like dis happen ever again! He’s so sorry!” Logan almost laughed at the scene Remy was making, hugging onto Jollie and almost in tears himself. Logan went and paid for the job, looking at the lady with apologetic eyes.

“What can I say? That’s his lil’ girl.” His job done, he ambled on over to the still crying girl and lifted up her chin with a finger.

“Hey, what say we go an’ get ya some ice cream fer bein’ such a brave lil’ girl, huh?” he asked. Jollie immediately stopped with the waterworks and grinned.

“’K!” she said, hopping down from the chair and grabbing onto her uncle’s hand.

“Kids, gotta love ‘em.”


“Poppa, I like dis bear!” Jollie said, hugging the huge stuffed animal. Then she looked around. “Poppa? Where you go?” she scanned the toy store area, thinking that her dad had followed her like he always did. Then she looked at the bear’s face.

“Oh no Mister Bear! Poppa’s lost!”
***

“You find her Logan?” Remy asked, his eyes wild with fright. She could have been kidnapped, taken in some car, anything!

“Nope. Let’s just go to mall security an’…” Logan stopped in mid sentence, Remy was grabbing onto the collar of his jacket.

“An’ not’ing! Dis be wasting time! We got to find her!” Logan was almost scared at LeBeau’s expression. Almost. Remy let go of his grip and ran through the mall, shouting his daughter’s name and looking everywhere.

“Gracious, what’s all the yelling about?” Hank asked, his hands carrying two large bags full of books.

“Jollie’s missin’,” Logan said, looking around. Hank gasped.

“Well, let’s just go to mall security and…” Logan cut him off.

“Suggested that already. LeBeau’s livid.” They bumped into Bobby, who just came out of the novelty store with a bag that had a rubber chicken sticking out of it. Remy ran over to him.

“You seen Angelique? She’s gone!” Then he looked at the bag. “You been buying a rubber poullet while my daughter might be kidnapped or somet’ing by any of de Assassin’s Guild members or de Hand or HYDRA or…” he seethed. Bobby gulped, then ran over towards the other men.

“Why don’t we just go to mall security then?” They both looked at him.

“Suggested that already.”

“Oh.”
***

Meanwhile, a teary eyed Angelique Simmone LeBeau was telling a security officer that her father had gotten lost.

“And what does you daddy look like?” the man asked. Jollie sniffed.

“He’s tall and he wears pants.” The officer looked at her. Great. So is every other man in this mall…

“Were there anyone else with your daddy sweetie?” he asked.

“Uh huh. Unca Wogan, Unca Bobby, an’ Unca Hank!”

“And what do they look like?”

“Unca Wogan is hairy an’ growls a lot, Unca Bobby can turn cold, an’ Unca Hank is all blue an’ fuzzy, like Mister Bear!” she said, holding out the teddy bear she kept with her from the toy store. The security guard took his portable radio and contacted customer service.

“We’ve got a lost child by the toy store. Make an all-call about it.” Furry and blue…kids these days, what imaginations they have…
***

*ATTENTION SHOPPERS, THERE IS A LOST CHILD BY THE TOY STORE. REPEAT, THERE IS A LOST CHILD BY THE TOY STORE.* Remy’s head popped up and he went off at a jog towards there.

“Jollie! Where did you go chère?” he asked, picking her up and hugging her.

“Poppa! Why did you go an’ get lost?” she asked back. “I found a new friend too! Poppa, dis is Mister Bear!” Remy groaned at the look she was giving him. Bobby shook his head and pulled out his wallet instead.

“Ohh, Poppa, can I get ‘nilla ice cream now?”

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