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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
 
 
 

The Companion Picture - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Dandelion
Last updated: 12/03/2009 06:26:08 PM

Chapter 1

"That's it. That does it! Not another foot!" Magnus hopped off the back of the motorcycle with what could only be described as contempt. "And I am not going any further until we get another mode of transportation."

Remy had a look on his face that obviously showed that he had been through this before, and he hadn't liked it then either.

"Do not put me off, LeBeau." Magnus' eyes flashed. "I'm not riding this... thing," he gestured in disgust at the bike, "any more."

"Well, you plan on walkin' den, don't you?" Remy's voice was exasperated. "I told you before, I don't have a luxury car in my possession. I wouldn't want one. You the one what don't want to fly, you either walk or ride the bike."

"Absolutely out of the question! It is undignified, perched on the back of that thing like some...leather-clad...bubble-headed blonde! I am not quite so enamored of you, LeBeau. I don't consider myself blessed for being able to ride on your precious bike."

"Aw, Lensherr, my heart is broke. And here I thought you were different. I thought you cared." Remy's face took on an expression of mock heartbreak.

"In all seriousness, LeBeau." Magnus' voice lost some of its edge. "We do need to consider a new method of transportation."

"Over my dead body!" Remy bellowed. "I am not giving dis baby up for anything, you hear me? Not for anything!" He gunned the motor.

"What, now you're ditching me?" Magnus' voice was hard, almost threatening.

Remy cut the motor. "Dat would be futile, wouldn't it? I'm drivin' to think. You ain't happy, but your solution wouldn't make me happy. So I'm going to try and think up something dat will work. I think best while I'm driving. I assumed you didn't want to come along."

"You assumed right. I'll do my own thinking here." Magnus took the duffel bags off the back of the bike. "I'll see you upon your return."

He turned and walked off the road a ways.

Remy gunned the motor again, and peeled off.

"He's just a boy. Magnus told himself. "He's still got those juvenile fancies about cars and motorcycles." He paced back and forth. "And he did build that thing out of a piece of junk. Rather well, actually." He had to concede that point to his young friend. "Still, there is nothing that can make me continue to ride on the back of his bike like some hanger-on."

He sat on the ground, his back leaning against a tree and a fleeting thought crossed his mind. <What would Charles think if he saw this?> A light chuckle escaped him as he saw Charles' expression of horror in his mind.

The problem remained. Magnus had suggested a trade-in before and the response had been to the effect of "the only way you're getting me away from dis bike is to pry my cold, dead body off'a it. Magnus had a few wicked thoughts of turning the thing into scrap metal with a wave of his hand, but that wouldn't have been very conducive to their camaraderie. So out of deference to his new companion, Magnus would merely have to think of something that included the bike. Distasteful though it seemed.

"Maybe a sidecar," he said aloud sarcastically. He chuckled over that idea. <Still,> he thought, <the idea does have merit. It would be much better than sitting on the back of that thing of his.> Magnus rubbed his chin with his fingers. <I could make one,> he mused silently. <Better than anything we could ever find. Depending on whether or not we can find a source of material.> A satisfied smile played on his lips.

Then an ironic laugh burst out.

"Imagine! Me, compromising! That would certainly addle a few minds concerning my image." He laughed again.

"Not dignified enough." Remy growled into the wind. "Ha! Never had complaints before. Not from the creme de la creme, not from anyone!"

He gunned the motor and let the wind whip his thoughts away in a burst of speed. Then he slowed thoughtfully. "'Course, Lensherr is the first guy I ever hosted on my bike. Dat may have somethin' to do wit' it." He pulled off to the side of the road. "I guess it ain't too dignified at dat. Lensherr's used to floatin' round in dat magnetic bubble of his. I guess I'm used to it to." He heaved a frustrated sigh. "So now what?" He looked around. "I'm not givin' up my bike and Lensherr's sick of looking silly on it. But he won't fly us, he wants to attempt some aspect of normalcy." He appeared to be on the outskirts of a small town. "Hmm. Not much here." His eyes fell on the gates of a junkyard. "On the other hand, dat may be just the ticket for the man who can manipulate metal."

Remy started up the motor again and turned his bike around.

"So I came up with a solution." Magnus concluded. He had briefly explained his thoughts when Remy had returned. "A modified sidecar."

Remy threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, dat's great."

Magnus' expression darkened. "You have a better idea?"

"Oh no, Lensherr, I think dat's a great idea. I been on the same wavelength. I was just picturing a movie I saw. You ever seen 'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade'?"

"Actually, yes." Magnus sniffed. He had enjoyed that particular movie. He liked any movie in which the Nazi body count was significantly high, there were those who might consider that attitude akin to holding a grudge, but he felt he was justified.

"I was just picturing you as Sean Connery in the side..car.." Remy's voice trailed off as Magnus' eyes pierced him. He cleared his throat. "Anyway... Well, it's a good idea. An' I found the place to get what you need to put one together."

Magnus cast a disparaging glance at the bike. "Oh, fine, I can manage one more ride on that monster of yours." He picked up the bags and climbed aboard.

Twenty minutes later, Remy pulled up to a stop in front of the junkyard.

"Hmmm," Magnus looked interested. "Well, there will certainly be no lack of possibilities here. Let me have a look." He got off and went in. "Oh, yes, this is most promising." He sifted through a few piles experimentally. Every now and again he'd toss something to the ground with a loud clang.

Remy wheeled his bike to a clear spot and leaned against it watching with some obvious interest.

"Are you going to stand there posing, LeBeau, or are you going to make yourself useful?" Magnus demanded, surveying his collection so far.

Remy made a face, then shrugged. "What are you looking for?"

Magnus lifted his eyes briefly. "Anything metal." His tone suggested some doubt as to Remy's intelligence.

One of Remy's eyebrows raised, and one side of his mouth lifted in an ingratiating smile. He hunched over and began hobbling around dragging a foot. "Yes, Master," he rasped in a hideous voice. "Must find metal for the master..." He skulked off to his own set of junkpiles and began wading through them. Magnus ignored him. After about thirty minutes there was quite an interesting collection between the two of them. "This should be good to begin with." Magnus said, rolling up his sleeves.

"To begin wit'? What were you thinking? You could build a spaceship with all the stuff here!"

"An interesting thought, LeBeau, if a bit impractical. No, this will suffice." He smiled slightly. "Let this be a lesson to you, junk as art." He started forming the pieces into rough shapes."

"Junk as art? What, art deco? You're kiddin', right?"

"Just because we're vagabonds doesn't mean we have to look the part. Your bike speaks volumes in that respect. I can polish things up a bit."

Remy looked skeptical. "Keep in mind, Lensherr, it *is* just a bike."

"Oh really? If it's just a bike, why weren't you willing to give it up before?"

Remy sucked in his breath. "It's just a bike, but it's *my* bike. Okay?"

"Sure, sure. I've got enough to keep me busy here, why don't you go pay the caretaker for the items we're appropriating."

Remy didn't move for a moment, then turned and headed towards the caretaker's office, calling over his shoulder. "If we were appropriating the stuff we wouldn't be paying for it!"

Some ten minutes later Remy returned to see Magnus relaxing in a rather streamlined, very comfortable looking sidecar attached to his bike. It didn't even look out of place.

"Nice work." Remy said, admiring the handiwork.

"Not bad at that." Magnus agreed. "Plenty of leg room. I could probably take a nap in this thing."

It's even pretty." Remy offered, a leer on his face.

"Shut up and drive, LeBeau."

"I'm tellin' you, Lensherr, if you haven't tried good Cajun cooking, you haven't lived." Remy took a bite out of his hamburger.

"I could have lived quite nicely without having to try this." Magnus eyed his meal skeptically.

"Lensherr, with all due respect. We're in the middle of upstate New York. McDonald's is as good as you're gonna get at short notice."

"Somehow I doubt that. This area is full of nice, quaint, family-owned restaurants. We could have stopped at one of those places."

"You gonna complain or you gonna eat?" Remy asked. "When you're drivin', you can stop at one of those quaint places. Of course, since we've both been starvin' since this afternoon, I figured you'd want something fast." He held up his hamburger. "Fast food." He finished.

"All right, so now we had best figure out what we're going to do and where we're going to go."

Remy nodded in agreement.

"We can't continue aimlessly wandering about. We need a goal. Personally, I have had a fondness for sparsely populated locations. It's just a shame there are so few wild places left in the world. There was a wistful tone in Magnus' voice.

"Dat all depends on your definition of wild." Remy muttered.

Magnus fixed him with a look.

"Hey. Antarctica is not the only wild place in the world. Neither is the Bermuda Triangle. You ever been to Detroit?"

The look on Magnus' face, one of horror, at the thought answered the question.

"Den you ain't seen wild. Trust me on this one."

Magnus shook his head. "Whatever. So our opinions differ on this. It won't be the last time. Still, maybe if we looked at this journey as a sort of quest."

Remy mulled that over. "I can see that. We both lookin' for something. You're looking for your past and I'm looking for a future. How do we combine the two?"

"Good question." Magnus looked at the ceiling. "Let's look at it this way, you can find your future anywhere, right?"

"Dat's pretty simplified."

"Well, I have to go to specific places to reacquaint myself with my past, can we agree on that point at least?"

Remy nodded.

"So, why don't we figure on visiting my old haunts and while we're doing that you can confront whatever you need to confront."

Remy mulled that over. "Sounds reasonable."

Magnus took a bite of his hamburger. "Good." He chewed thoughtfully. "Are you sure this stuff is safe?"

"Tell me, Lensherr, what did you eat while you were in space?"

"I happen to be a very good cook."

"I'll keep dat in mind." Remy was silent for a time. "So, which of your old bases did you want to tackle first? And please, please don't say Avalon."

"Avalon...." Magnus' eyes glazed over slightly. Remy was already familiar with this expression, it came whenever Magnus was trying to recall his life previous. "Avalon." The syllables seemed to hang in the air. Magnus pounded his fist down on the table. "Why can't I remember it? I know it is vital." His breath caught in his throat. "Nooo, I remember. My space station." He narrowed his eyes. "You were there. That battle. The battle where I--" Magnus looked around him and lowered his voice considerably. "I tore Logan's bones out."

Remy nodded. "Avalon is basically where you got your memories wiped. Whether dat's for good or bad, I don' know."

Magnus regarded his friend stoically. "You're worried that I'll 'revert', aren't you?"

"Interesting way of putting it." Remy conceded. "The thing is Lensherr, I've heard all sorts of stories about you. All sorts. And you can't even confirm or deny them. Some of them, maybe." Remy seemed to consider his words. "You tell me, Lensherr, when you recall something from your life, how does it affect you?"

"It's as though it were a completely different person in a life I don't feel quite connected to. And I have to admit it bothers me a great deal. It seems the only memories I react to are the horrid ones. Of which there are plenty. But details, the little details that make memories what they are, either don't affect me or don't come to me. I remember Avalon now, vaguely. But I couldn't say why I built it. I couldn't give you the train of thought that caused me to seek a space station in the first place. And, to me, it seems like such a far-fetched dream. Living in space is something unreal to me. But I did it and I can't remember how I managed it." He shook his head. "For now, I think it would be best to remain on the earth."

"Doesn't limit our options too much." Remy countered. "I hear you had a slew of bases."

"Funny, I hear that too." A slow smile spread across Magnus' features. "The Bermuda Triangle." He said authoritatively. "Let's go there first."

"Sure, you don' pick somethin' easy like the middle of a volcano." Remy balled up his napkin. "We'll need a boat."

"That, my boy, is a must."

Remy leaned back going over his own travels in his mind. "Florida would be our best bet to charter a boat. The question is whether or not we can find someone willing to sail into the Triangle."

"There's always a few who are crazy enough to try it. Just a matter of whether or not we can find them."

 

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