Careless Moment, Lifetime Regrets

by Kerri

Part 7

Jazz stood next to his mother on the front steps of the mansion. "Well?" he asked her.

She'd washed the blood from her face, but there were still traces of the killer in her eyes. He'd never, ever watched her fight that way before. He'd heard the stories of the old days from Matthew when he taught her sword play, even stories of her life with the Quapoa from Thomas, but he'd never watched her go full out in true battle. It frightened him a little. He'd grown used to thinking he took care of her over the years.

"Well, what?"

"What do you think?" He hated it when she deliberately avoided questions.

"You'll have to be more specific, honey."

"About the school?"

"I don't think anything about it all, not until I see it. Miss Frost and Mr. Cassidy do appear to be running a legitimate academy, if that's what you're asking."

"What do you think about me going there?" He draped a casual arm around her shoulders. She was losing that annoying English accent at last.

"You already told me you wanted to go. They'll accept you. I'm just worried about you."

"I know, Mom, but you don't have to worry."

"Of course I do, it's in the instructions. I must worry about you until one of us is in the grave. After that, everything's negotiable."

He grinned down at her. "Tom didn't have this much trouble getting away from you."

"Sure he did. He was 103 when he finally left home for good. If you want me to hold you to Thomas' example, you've got some more time to serve on your sentence." She smiled back. She loved him so much.

"Nah, that's okay." Her words sunk in. "You're really letting me go?"

"Thomas has a point. You need more than I can give you right now. You go to school, put up with visits from your mother. I'll show up every so often and embarrass you in front of your new friends. It's the least I can do."

"You can embarrass me all you want."

"Just promise you'll call if you need me."

"Who else would I call?"

Wrong thing to say, he saw that right away. Her face wiped clean of emotion.

"I will call you," he stressed. Not now, he thought to himself, please, Mom...

"You ready to go into New York?"

He glanced down at his feet, the 'I'm just a little kid' attitude in full play. "I kinda wanted to stay here tonight with the others. They're going to stay up late and watch videos. Tom wants to visit with Hank."

"I see." Charlotte bit her lip to keep from smiling. "If you want to stay, and it's all right with Xavier, then I don't mind. Got to start somewhere, don't I?"

"Yeah." He had some idea what this cost her. He hugged her, lifting her off her feet. "Thanks, Mom."

She squeezed him back tightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. Mind your brother."

"You're not staying?"

"Honey, I don't dare. I'm pretty mixed up right now, and I don't want to hurt anyone. I need to do some thinking." Plotting, more likely.

"Is it too much for the two of you to behave like grown-ups?" he lifted a thick brow at her.

She'd forgotten over the years just how much he looked like his father. "Right now, yes. I've got a lot of baggage to lose before I deal with your father. It's best I leave now. I can meet the students later." She was fairly certain the residents wouldn't care for anymore bloodshed. There was still too much anger inside to deal with anything else in a rational manner. She'd always considered herself a calm person, but this was too much to ask of her.

At least she actually said the word 'father' without stuttering or looking for a victim. Some progress. "How are you getting there?"

"I'll call a cab. You go on."

Charlotte waited until he went back inside, then set off for the front gate. She'd call a cab, just as soon as she walked into Salem Center. She needed the walk to help cool her head and get herself back under control.

~*~*~*~*~

Jean met Jazz on his way back to the other students in the Danger Room. "Hank wants to see you down in the lab. Something about getting started on your physical."

Jazz made a face. "Okay." It meant more needles, which he hated with a passion.

"He wants to see your mother, too."

"She's outside." He went off to see what he had to do.

Jean looked out the front door, then stepped outside to look around the grounds. All she saw was Remy laughing to himself as he made his way towards her. "Jess said his mother was out here. Have you seen her?"

"Oui, she's gone."

"What?"

"She opened de gate, no alarm or not'ing."

"But we're miles from Salem Center."

"I'm goin' to get a car an' catch up to her," he answered. "She prob'ly a li'l upset dis day, neh?" Based on the sparring match he was giving 3 to 1 odds on who was going to take the next go-round. They didn't see Wolverine get taken down every day. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time.

~*~*~*~*~

"Need a lift, chere?"

She was so lost in thought she didn't hear him.

Remy pulled up along side her in the convertible and tapped the horn. "Chere!"

Charlotte stopped with a sigh, turning a clearly irritated face to him. "What?"

"Ride?"

"Why?"

"You wound me, chere."

"Not yet, LeBeau, but give me time, I'll get around to it sooner or later."

"You can' walk all de way. I give you a ride, mebbe we stop for a drink an' talk?"

"All the way where? Where am I going?"

His smile faltered a second before her sarcasm, then he stepped up his efforts. "Dere's a place not too far, chere. I buy you a drink."

Charlotte blew out a breath. A drink was the fourth item on her list, right after get Jess home, chew Thomas out, and kill Logan. At least she could accomplish something today. "Okay." She moved towards the passenger side. "One condition."

Remy leaned over and opened the door for her, flashing a cheeky grin. "What's dat?"

"No questions."

"Not get to know each other? Dat not frien'ly."

"I'm not interested in getting to know anyone right now. It'll make it easier to hurt you later."

~*~*~*~*~

"What is this place?" Charlotte looked at the outside of the bar.

"Harry's. Couple drinks, we get to be old friends."

"A little advice, LeBeau. I've got a lot of anger in me right now you don't want to tap."

"Mebbe you just tell me about Wolverine?" He opened the door and ushered her into the bar.

"Sorry to burst your carefully planned little bubble, but I don't know a damned thing about Wolverine."

The inside was dark, not too crowded for a weeknight. Harry was behind the bar, a heavy scowl on his face.

"Do something about your friend," he told Remy.

"I haven't ordered anything yet," Charlotte remarked, her eyes narrowing at him.

Harry didn't pay any attention to her. "He's in the back scaring the other customers. He starts another fight today, I'm kicking him out of here."

Remy glanced towards the corner Harry pointed at. "Mebbe we go somewhere else, chere."

She ignored him and headed to the source of the bar owner's upset. If she'd been paying attention in the first place she would've felt him here before they came through the door.

A dozen empties lined a small table set next to the wall. Logan was at a pool table nearby, shooting a solitary game. He looked at her over his shot. "Whaddaya want?" he growled, then missed the cue ball completely.

"You look like the poster child for bad news," she grinned nastily. "Anybody ever teach you to play properly?"

"Was doin' just fine till ya showed up."

"I can say the same, can't I?"

"Y'come here to bust my chops some more? Ain't ya had enough o' that at the mansion in front of everyone? Ya gotta do that here, too?"

"This wasn't my idea. Your friend here is looking for information, or trying to pick me up."

His eyes narrowed at Remy behind her. "He is?"

Remy shrugged, and turned back to the bar to get a couple of drinks.

"So," she leaned on one hip against the table, crossing her arms in an artfully casual pose, "you always act like this when a woman whips your ass?"

He missed the next shot.

"Don't tell me this is the first time?" Her voice held a thoroughly wicked tone.

He stood up. "Got no problem wi' losin' to a woman."

"Well, what is it, then?"

"Mebbe I got a problem wi' you." Maybe he had a problem dealing with what her existence meant to his carefully constructed house of tattered cards.

"Maybe you do, but you say it likes it's a bad thing."

"Y'play pool, or do y'just mouth off?"

"I can play, a little," she smirked at him, suddenly lightening up. It nearly choked him to see her moods change so quickly. "I can do both at once. Care to take me on?"

There were a few responses to that, but he'd leave that until later. What he wanted to say didn't need an audience, and Gambit's ears and eyes were wide open and recording every last nuance. "Get a stick, lady, an' show me just how good y'are."

~Ooh, another come-on. On a roll, aren't you?~

"An' stay outta my head!"

~*~*~*~*~

This was it. After watching her run the table for the last hour, Logan was sure she'd had it. She searched the table for possibilities. He couldn't see any, himself. The cue ball rested near an outside pocket. Her last stripe sat close to the side pocket, leaning against the eight ball. The eight was closest to the cue ball.

No way, absolutely no fuckin' way she could reach it. A wave of satisfaction ran through him. He was going to take this one. If she missed, he could clear the table.

"What'sa matter, darlin'? Givin' it up now?"

She glared at his sarcasm. "Watch and learn, little man," she growled at him, leaning over the table. "Side pocket."

He laughed out loud, ignoring her second glare. She had nerve, she really did.

"Got a problem? Shoes too tight?" she asked sarcastically.

After a long moment, she shot the cue ball. It banked off the end of the table and hit the two balls right in the middle. Hers rolled neatly into the pocket, the eight moved off towards the middle of the table.

Remy exploded with laughter, completely unmindful of the murderous sneer on Logan's face.

She leaned over and shot the eight ball into the side pocket. "Any questions?" she asked airily.

"I don't believe it," he muttered.

"Oh, don't feel bad. I've been playing snooker almost since it was invented."

"Ya taught the boy to play, didn't ya?" He gave up his stick, preferring to drink just now. There had to be something he could top her at today. Aside from the production of testosterone, and he had his doubts about that one.

She set hers back in the rack on the wall and took the seat across from him. "Had to do something during the winter months. He's pretty good."

"I know, or I would've if he hadn't tried to kill me."

"That's another thing I'm going to have to work on with him. If he's going to kill, he's got to pick a place without witnesses, and somewhere handy to stash the body." She smiled sweetly at him, then picked up the beer Remy set in front of her. Both men watched her wrapped her lips lovingly around the opening of the bottle and tilt it up, the liquid draining quickly into her waiting mouth. With a flourish, she set the empty down with a sharp click, licking her lips for any drops that got away. "More?"

Logan snapped his mouth shut, then elbowed Remy to get his eyes bugged back in. "Get the lady another beer, Gumbo."

Remy swallowed hard and got back up.

~*~*~*~*~

Several beers later, each one consumed like the first, the glaze of intoxication covered her eyes. She wasn't a good drinker, she knew that, but this was the worst day of her life, at least one of the top seven worst days of her life. Right now, all she could think of were four and he figured prominently in two now.

"Tell me one thing, will ya?" he leaned over the table to get her attention.

"What?"

"What'd I ever do to ya? Why do ya hate me so much?"

Her eyes focused on him, losing her inattentive mood. He was almost sorry he'd asked. The glaze was gone.

"You did two things," she said in a low voice. "You gave me Jess, and I give thanks every day for my son. He's been one of the best experiences of my life."

"You gave me one of the worst moments of my life." She tugged her shirt up a little, exposing hideously scarred skin on the right side of her torso, extending beneath the waistband of her denims and around to her back.

Both men were literally speechless with shock.

Charlotte snapped her shirt back down. "So don't think for a moment you haven't had an effect on my life. I've thought about you, one way or another, every single day for the last 57 years." She picked up her beer and slammed the rest back, then set the bottle on the table. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, it's time for me to leave."

They both watched her move around the tables and patrons towards the bar. She exchanged a few words with Harry. He nodded and she headed for the door.

"Gimme yer keys," Logan told Remy, dropping the keys to his Harley on the table.

Remy fished his out of his pocket. "Good luck, homme," he said.

Logan favored him a warning look, then followed her out.

Harry stopped him. "Tell your friend the cab'll be here in about 15 minutes."

"Cancel it, I'm takin' her home."

~*~*~*~*~

Charlotte waited outside the bar, looking up at the stars. She wiped tears from her eyes, furious with herself for giving in to the impulse to spout off. It accomplished nothing and exposed her to strangers. Why did he have to ask a question at the moment the answer was struggling to get out?

The door opened, Logan stepped out and looked around. He didn't see her in the shadows.

It seemed like she was always in the shadows.

She took the moment to look him over. He was a little older, a few more lines on his face since the war. There was a hardness to his eyes that hadn't been there 57 years ago. It hurt that he didn't remember her, hurt so much she wanted to lash out and make him hurt with her.

It wasn't just him or her, though. Jess was a part of it all. She wouldn't hurt her son for the world, and she wouldn't let Logan hurt him, either.

He finally spotted her. "Come on, I'll take ya home."

"I'm not going back to the Xavier's."

"Then I'll take ya where y'wanna go."

"I've got a place in Manhattan." Why did she say that?

"Let's go."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"'Cause I ain't gonna let ya stand around out here."

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, ya proved that one, didn't ya? Get in the damn car."

End Part 7.

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