Amanda, Remy - Wednesday morning
May. 18th, 2005 08:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAmanda drops by on Remy after she gets back, to ask him about his gift for herself. Remy is too tired and too sick to be very evasive.
Remy hadn't been in his office - somewhere along the line she'd stopped thinking of it as Pete's office, she realised - and after chatting with Jake and commiserating with him on his lack of Cake the previous weekend, she made her way out to the bouthouse, intent on tracking down a Cajun. Preferably without the use of a location spell. "Remy?" she called, knocking on the door. "You about?"
Remy tiredly stumbled out of bed, his hair sticking up in random spikes. He'd come down with a nasty flu bug in Denver, and with his endless hours of work, simply hadn't given his body the option of doing anything but crashing hard. Stuffing himself into a pair of sleeper pants, he wandered out of his bedroom and through the boathouse living room to the door.
"'manda?" He stifled a yawn. "Come in." Remy held the door before shuffling back towards his room.
"I'll be there in a sec," she said, heading straight for the kitchen after getting a good look at him. Cain had fuck all in the way of herbal remedies, but she knew there was some tea since she'd brought it there herself, while she was on Cain-nursing duty after his 'accident'. Turning on the kettle and digging out a clean mug, she called through the door. "Get yer skinny arse back in bed, Remy, an' I'll bring you somethin' hot t' drink. You look shockin'."
"You know, dere are much nicer ways to get me into bed, chere." Remy quipped, but his heart wasn't into it. God, he must be more worn out than he thought. Still, he didn't argue as he wandered back into his room and slumped on the bed. He did take a second to pull a stack of notes off of the one nice chair in it.
"Well, you're the one insistin' on runnin' himself into the ground an' makin' himself sick into the bargain," Amanda called back, nudging things along with the kettle with a brief spell, the augmentation spell she hadn't used since the ill-fated softball game. No portals opened to Asgard this time, at least, and she finished making the tea adding some extra herbs from a bag that had been stashed in the back of the same cupboard, a soothing mixture. "I'm gunna have t' start carryin' potion bits on me all the time, aren't I?" she half-teased, coming into the new room. It was bigger than the old one, and she noticed Remy's lack of possessions was even more starkly obvious. "Gunna have t' start wearin' a bloody utility belt or somethin', with lots of pockets."
"Dat's right. Maybe a cape." Remy made a face at the astringent taste of the herbs that she'd added to it. "Figure dat maybe I'll steal Moira's coffee while she away. Use de things in dat to kill what's in my system, neh?"
"There's easier ways t' do yerself in than stealin' Moira's coffee," Amanda said, curling up in the chair with one leg tucked under her. She looked pensive for a moment, and then said, apparently casually: "That was a nice present you gave 'em. Can't have much of that stash left, if it's from where I thought it was?"
"Never had a stash. Had to buy it when I was in Europe." Remy looked into his cup. "Dere are local agents dat will buy speciality products in France, go through all de small towns and things for de local cheeses, wines, fruit, dat sort of thing. Managed to convince one to go to de Baron's cellers for me."
"I'd wondered, seein' how you said you haven't been there for a while..." Unnoticed Amanda's hand drifted towards her mouth, where she started nibbling absently on her nails. "This job you had t' go on... it could have waited, couldn't it?" she asked at last. "I mean, it wasn't the only reason you weren't there at Muir, was it?"
"You been talking to Jake, chere?"
"A bit," she admitted. "But I knew as soon as I saw that bottle there was more to it." She gave him a wry smile. "Magic's all 'bout symbols, Remy. Things signifyin' other things. That bottle, from that place, as a gift t' Nate an' Moira when you weren't there t' give it yerself? Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm seein' a lot more there than just a weddin' gift an' some bad timin'."
For a moment, Remy considered flat out lying. Unfortunately, it was a line he'd never crossed with Amanda, and simply couldn't bring himself to do. Between her and Lorna, he was apparently about as mysterious as a children's crime cartoon.
"De lead needed to be checked out, oui. But," Remy took a sip. "you not wrong dat I could have waited. Turned out to be a complete waste of time anyhow."
Amanda nodded, seeing that moment of hesitation where she could see him debating whether to lie or not. She was pleased that he hadn't. "So," she said quietly, watching him sip the tea, hands cupped around the mug as if to warm them. "Was Muir somethin' else you think you hadn't earned yet? Like that place in France?"
Remy regarded her silently and levelly for a long time before letting out his breath tiredly. Obviously he'd magic-markered what was going on in his brain on his forehead while he slept or something.
"Dat wedding was 'bout family, chere. People dere, together through loyalty, love, all de things dat I'm not. Dey made a free choice to come to dis school, care 'bout each other. So non, dat one place dat Remy don't belong."
"I think you're wrong 'bout that," she told him, voice still quiet but carrying a firmness he didn't normally hear. Especially not in the last few months. "I see you, half-killin' yerself t' protect this place, an' the people in it. An' yeah, a lot of that's out of wantin' t' make up for what Gambit did, but some of the stuff you do... it's not 'cause you feel guilty. It's cause you care. You didn't have t' talk t' Jubilee after all that shite with the demon. You didn't have t' try an' talk t' Paige 'bout people an' their reactions. You certainly didn't have t' be my friend, or Lorna's, or even Cain's. None of that matters shit as far as atonin' goes. It's you tryin' t' be a human bein', reachin' out, carin'." Amanda paused, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. "I think reachin' out, tryin' t' care - that'll do more t' lay Gambit t' rest than all the rest of it."
"I wish I could say you're right, 'manda. But let's be honest, even de fact of Gambit aside, who am I? Fuck, one of de reasons I haven't left is because I don't have a life outside of here, and Remy too damn much of a coward to face dat." He shook his head, slumping back against the wall. "I'm here because I have to be, and dats not a good enough reason for anyone to assume dat I should belong."
"An' closin' yerself off t' every chance you might have t' have a life is gunna help?" Amanda pointed out, but less harshly than she might have usually. He looked all in. "So you don't know who you are - you think you're gunna find out from all those files?"
Remy actually gave her a sullen look, a sharp reminder of the fact that he had been her age not so long ago, with all the famed melodrama of it. It was just that he couldn't bridge that gap in himself, and refused to belief that he was worth letting anyone else in to help.
"Think next time Remy just send flowers."
"Truth hurts, mate," she said, unperturbed by the look or the tone. "I could dress it all up an' make up some pretty bullshit 'bout you needin' time an' the like, but you've always been straight with me." She shrugged. "An' I don't know as much 'bout the world or people as you do, but I do know a lot 'bout hatin' yerself, an' thinkin' you're no better than what you've been made t' do."
"You know de worst part? Every time de universe drops more shit on us, de first thought dat I get is how much easier it would be if I was Gambit to handle dis. Dere wouldn't be questions, or all dis shit. Shaw? Hard to be a danger wit' you genitals sown in you mouth? Magneto? Non-ferrous sniper rounds at two kilometres. Hellfire Club I could get wit' a van loaded wit' semtex." Remy shook his head. "Instead, I have to play their game, and dey're better den me, 'manda. Dey better den me."
"The minute you do it that way, then yeah, they are better 'n you. 'Cause you let 'em drive you t' that point." Amanda shrugged again, this time a little helplessly. "I don't understand half of the threats out there, Remy, an' maybe I'm just bein' a stupid kid, but I dunno, there's got t' be how many secret service types here? Pete was just one person - he was fuckin' good at his job, yeah, but he's still only one person. Not the fuckin' God of Spies."
"Non, but he managed it for two years without getting anyone killed. I've been doing it for two months, and every day I'm waiting for de fucking hammer to drop." Remy finished off the tea. "Tell you what. Let's run away. Get married in Vegas as de Smiths. Buy a farm in Topeka and raise chickens or something. No more crazy assassins, giant robots or attacks in de middle of de night."
"Hasn't dropped yet. That's gotta say somethin'." She reached over and took the empty mug from him, letting her hand linger on his briefly, not in a romantic or sexy way, more of a gesture of friendship. Reassurance, perhaps. "No more assassins an' robots? You say the sweetest things, Remy. Should I go pack now?" she replied, teasing gently.
"Could buy a dog. Maybe Remy coach Little League." His fever was starting to get to him, body aching. "But den one day Cain would move in and dat would be de end of de couch."
His hands were warm, but that could have been from the tea - she lay her hand on his forehead and frowned a little. "That's the problem with havin' eight feet tall houseguests," she agreed absently. "You should sleep - you've got a temperature. Got any aspirin around?" She could go back to the house for her potion mix, but she wanted to see him settled first. Even if that meant knocking him out with a quick spell.
"Doesn't work. Metabolism works too fast. Bartlet offered to hit me on de head wit' a hammer. You could borrow it off her." The room was starting to spin, and he closed his eyes to avoid being sick. "Maybe I'll just take a little nap, neh?"
"Sleepin's good. Even better if you do it lyin' down." Okay, healing spells weren't meant to be used for sickness, and the flu certainly wasn't 'life threatening' but she was tired of people making decisions for her. Especially in regards to the magic. As Remy gradually slid down under the blankets, she lay her hand gently over his, golden light erupting from it. "Somethin' t' help you sleep," she murmured.
"Dere ways more fun den..." Remy's voice trailed off as he slipped into a deep sleep, weary features finally relaxing for the first time in weeks, it seemed.
"Yeah, but right now you wouldn't be up t' any of them, would you?" she replied with quiet amusement, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She'd come back later, with her flu potion and some soup - Lorna would hopefully be around to ask for that. Glancing around the bare room again, she frowned. And maybe something to cheer the place up.
Remy hadn't been in his office - somewhere along the line she'd stopped thinking of it as Pete's office, she realised - and after chatting with Jake and commiserating with him on his lack of Cake the previous weekend, she made her way out to the bouthouse, intent on tracking down a Cajun. Preferably without the use of a location spell. "Remy?" she called, knocking on the door. "You about?"
Remy tiredly stumbled out of bed, his hair sticking up in random spikes. He'd come down with a nasty flu bug in Denver, and with his endless hours of work, simply hadn't given his body the option of doing anything but crashing hard. Stuffing himself into a pair of sleeper pants, he wandered out of his bedroom and through the boathouse living room to the door.
"'manda?" He stifled a yawn. "Come in." Remy held the door before shuffling back towards his room.
"I'll be there in a sec," she said, heading straight for the kitchen after getting a good look at him. Cain had fuck all in the way of herbal remedies, but she knew there was some tea since she'd brought it there herself, while she was on Cain-nursing duty after his 'accident'. Turning on the kettle and digging out a clean mug, she called through the door. "Get yer skinny arse back in bed, Remy, an' I'll bring you somethin' hot t' drink. You look shockin'."
"You know, dere are much nicer ways to get me into bed, chere." Remy quipped, but his heart wasn't into it. God, he must be more worn out than he thought. Still, he didn't argue as he wandered back into his room and slumped on the bed. He did take a second to pull a stack of notes off of the one nice chair in it.
"Well, you're the one insistin' on runnin' himself into the ground an' makin' himself sick into the bargain," Amanda called back, nudging things along with the kettle with a brief spell, the augmentation spell she hadn't used since the ill-fated softball game. No portals opened to Asgard this time, at least, and she finished making the tea adding some extra herbs from a bag that had been stashed in the back of the same cupboard, a soothing mixture. "I'm gunna have t' start carryin' potion bits on me all the time, aren't I?" she half-teased, coming into the new room. It was bigger than the old one, and she noticed Remy's lack of possessions was even more starkly obvious. "Gunna have t' start wearin' a bloody utility belt or somethin', with lots of pockets."
"Dat's right. Maybe a cape." Remy made a face at the astringent taste of the herbs that she'd added to it. "Figure dat maybe I'll steal Moira's coffee while she away. Use de things in dat to kill what's in my system, neh?"
"There's easier ways t' do yerself in than stealin' Moira's coffee," Amanda said, curling up in the chair with one leg tucked under her. She looked pensive for a moment, and then said, apparently casually: "That was a nice present you gave 'em. Can't have much of that stash left, if it's from where I thought it was?"
"Never had a stash. Had to buy it when I was in Europe." Remy looked into his cup. "Dere are local agents dat will buy speciality products in France, go through all de small towns and things for de local cheeses, wines, fruit, dat sort of thing. Managed to convince one to go to de Baron's cellers for me."
"I'd wondered, seein' how you said you haven't been there for a while..." Unnoticed Amanda's hand drifted towards her mouth, where she started nibbling absently on her nails. "This job you had t' go on... it could have waited, couldn't it?" she asked at last. "I mean, it wasn't the only reason you weren't there at Muir, was it?"
"You been talking to Jake, chere?"
"A bit," she admitted. "But I knew as soon as I saw that bottle there was more to it." She gave him a wry smile. "Magic's all 'bout symbols, Remy. Things signifyin' other things. That bottle, from that place, as a gift t' Nate an' Moira when you weren't there t' give it yerself? Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm seein' a lot more there than just a weddin' gift an' some bad timin'."
For a moment, Remy considered flat out lying. Unfortunately, it was a line he'd never crossed with Amanda, and simply couldn't bring himself to do. Between her and Lorna, he was apparently about as mysterious as a children's crime cartoon.
"De lead needed to be checked out, oui. But," Remy took a sip. "you not wrong dat I could have waited. Turned out to be a complete waste of time anyhow."
Amanda nodded, seeing that moment of hesitation where she could see him debating whether to lie or not. She was pleased that he hadn't. "So," she said quietly, watching him sip the tea, hands cupped around the mug as if to warm them. "Was Muir somethin' else you think you hadn't earned yet? Like that place in France?"
Remy regarded her silently and levelly for a long time before letting out his breath tiredly. Obviously he'd magic-markered what was going on in his brain on his forehead while he slept or something.
"Dat wedding was 'bout family, chere. People dere, together through loyalty, love, all de things dat I'm not. Dey made a free choice to come to dis school, care 'bout each other. So non, dat one place dat Remy don't belong."
"I think you're wrong 'bout that," she told him, voice still quiet but carrying a firmness he didn't normally hear. Especially not in the last few months. "I see you, half-killin' yerself t' protect this place, an' the people in it. An' yeah, a lot of that's out of wantin' t' make up for what Gambit did, but some of the stuff you do... it's not 'cause you feel guilty. It's cause you care. You didn't have t' talk t' Jubilee after all that shite with the demon. You didn't have t' try an' talk t' Paige 'bout people an' their reactions. You certainly didn't have t' be my friend, or Lorna's, or even Cain's. None of that matters shit as far as atonin' goes. It's you tryin' t' be a human bein', reachin' out, carin'." Amanda paused, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. "I think reachin' out, tryin' t' care - that'll do more t' lay Gambit t' rest than all the rest of it."
"I wish I could say you're right, 'manda. But let's be honest, even de fact of Gambit aside, who am I? Fuck, one of de reasons I haven't left is because I don't have a life outside of here, and Remy too damn much of a coward to face dat." He shook his head, slumping back against the wall. "I'm here because I have to be, and dats not a good enough reason for anyone to assume dat I should belong."
"An' closin' yerself off t' every chance you might have t' have a life is gunna help?" Amanda pointed out, but less harshly than she might have usually. He looked all in. "So you don't know who you are - you think you're gunna find out from all those files?"
Remy actually gave her a sullen look, a sharp reminder of the fact that he had been her age not so long ago, with all the famed melodrama of it. It was just that he couldn't bridge that gap in himself, and refused to belief that he was worth letting anyone else in to help.
"Think next time Remy just send flowers."
"Truth hurts, mate," she said, unperturbed by the look or the tone. "I could dress it all up an' make up some pretty bullshit 'bout you needin' time an' the like, but you've always been straight with me." She shrugged. "An' I don't know as much 'bout the world or people as you do, but I do know a lot 'bout hatin' yerself, an' thinkin' you're no better than what you've been made t' do."
"You know de worst part? Every time de universe drops more shit on us, de first thought dat I get is how much easier it would be if I was Gambit to handle dis. Dere wouldn't be questions, or all dis shit. Shaw? Hard to be a danger wit' you genitals sown in you mouth? Magneto? Non-ferrous sniper rounds at two kilometres. Hellfire Club I could get wit' a van loaded wit' semtex." Remy shook his head. "Instead, I have to play their game, and dey're better den me, 'manda. Dey better den me."
"The minute you do it that way, then yeah, they are better 'n you. 'Cause you let 'em drive you t' that point." Amanda shrugged again, this time a little helplessly. "I don't understand half of the threats out there, Remy, an' maybe I'm just bein' a stupid kid, but I dunno, there's got t' be how many secret service types here? Pete was just one person - he was fuckin' good at his job, yeah, but he's still only one person. Not the fuckin' God of Spies."
"Non, but he managed it for two years without getting anyone killed. I've been doing it for two months, and every day I'm waiting for de fucking hammer to drop." Remy finished off the tea. "Tell you what. Let's run away. Get married in Vegas as de Smiths. Buy a farm in Topeka and raise chickens or something. No more crazy assassins, giant robots or attacks in de middle of de night."
"Hasn't dropped yet. That's gotta say somethin'." She reached over and took the empty mug from him, letting her hand linger on his briefly, not in a romantic or sexy way, more of a gesture of friendship. Reassurance, perhaps. "No more assassins an' robots? You say the sweetest things, Remy. Should I go pack now?" she replied, teasing gently.
"Could buy a dog. Maybe Remy coach Little League." His fever was starting to get to him, body aching. "But den one day Cain would move in and dat would be de end of de couch."
His hands were warm, but that could have been from the tea - she lay her hand on his forehead and frowned a little. "That's the problem with havin' eight feet tall houseguests," she agreed absently. "You should sleep - you've got a temperature. Got any aspirin around?" She could go back to the house for her potion mix, but she wanted to see him settled first. Even if that meant knocking him out with a quick spell.
"Doesn't work. Metabolism works too fast. Bartlet offered to hit me on de head wit' a hammer. You could borrow it off her." The room was starting to spin, and he closed his eyes to avoid being sick. "Maybe I'll just take a little nap, neh?"
"Sleepin's good. Even better if you do it lyin' down." Okay, healing spells weren't meant to be used for sickness, and the flu certainly wasn't 'life threatening' but she was tired of people making decisions for her. Especially in regards to the magic. As Remy gradually slid down under the blankets, she lay her hand gently over his, golden light erupting from it. "Somethin' t' help you sleep," she murmured.
"Dere ways more fun den..." Remy's voice trailed off as he slipped into a deep sleep, weary features finally relaxing for the first time in weeks, it seemed.
"Yeah, but right now you wouldn't be up t' any of them, would you?" she replied with quiet amusement, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. She'd come back later, with her flu potion and some soup - Lorna would hopefully be around to ask for that. Glancing around the bare room again, she frowned. And maybe something to cheer the place up.
