Remy, Amanda - very late Monday night

[xp_daytripper]

As has become habit since July, Amanda sneaks down to the boathouse to sleep on the couch. She finds Remy there following his talk with Charles. It's another in a series of goodbyes.

Rated R - adult themes. Not worksafe.



The door creaked as she eased it open, the same as it always did, and she rolled her eyes slightly. She was convinced Remy and Cain kept it that way on purpose, so they'd know when someone was coming in. Still, they'd apparently gotten used to her occasional campouts on their couch - the nights when the mansion closed in around her, the weight of secrets and expectations and demands too much. Slipping inside, she paused for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the greater dimness, and then caught sight of the hunched, dark shape sitting on the couch, twin red sparks glowing faintly. Remy.

"Did I pick a bad night?" she asked quietly, hovering in the doorway. "If you want I can go back, sleep in me own bed." Not that she would, but she could pretend.

"Dat's alright. Remy not going to be sleeping much." He said, rubbing his eyes. There was so much to do, and things to say that he'd rather be avoiding. On top of  that was the sick dull ache in him from Lorna. 

"Something happen?"

"Not really. Just..." She waved her hand vaguely, a gesture that could have meant anything from 'my suite mate is keeping me awake with loud music' (highly unlikely) to 'I couldn't stand being around people' (which was much closer to the truth). She was tired of the bickering, the angst, the hypocrisy. "The usual," she settled for, coming in and closing the door behind her before sitting at the other end of the couch in her usual curled-up ball. She took in his battered appearance without a word - there was no point nagging him to go to medlab, she'd tried a dozen times before. "What 'bout you? You look like shite." Strange, that she was at her most normal with Remy. Perhaps because he'd never played games with her.

"Funny. Remy thought he just felt like it."  LeBeau flexed his hands, bleeding off stress from his talk with Charles, even hours after the fact. Amanda looked questioningly at him, and he took a deep breath. "I'm leaving, chere. Tomorrow morning."

She went still, fists clenching tightly in her lap, for  a while  just  concentrating on her breathing, on not bursting into tears and storming out. She'd come past  that.  "Had enough of us, have you?" she said at last, voice tightly controlled but unable to keep the note of bitterness out of her tone which meant 'Had enough of me?'

"It's a little more complicated den dat, chere." Remy shook his head. "Dere's some work dat I have to finish, and den it's time dat I went my own way." Her reaction wasn't lost on him. Remy wondered if any one else had noticed the fact that Amanda was now basically alone. Her relationship with Manuel wasn't officially over, but he'd seen enough of those looks, saying that it was a dead issue now.

"It's always fuckin' complicated," she muttered petulantly. She sounded very much like what she was, a young girl mature beyond her years in some ways, but in others, hopelessly behind. Hunching miserably into a ball,  she shot him  a sideways  look. "No point me sayin' anything, is there? Your mind's made up." It was on the tip of her tongue to say that he'd been gone effectively since  Lorna had disappeared, but she knew better than that.

"On dis, oui. It is." Remy said simply, watching her. "Dat don mean dat Remy fall over de edge of de world, 'manda. But here... dere's a time dat I have to stop pretending dat dis is where I can make a difference. Dat's a job for de X-Men and de Professor; do things dere way. I got other means, and not even a leather and spandex suit gon' change dat." 

"So, what? You'll write? You'll call? I can visit durin' school hols?" The bitterness was more than a note now. "'Til you get somethin' else more important to do, any way." Sucking in a breath, trying to get that bloody quiver out of her voice, she tried to shrug, difficult as it was when she was in Defensive Amanda Position Number One, with  her knees pulled up to her chest, a small ball in the corner of the Cain-sized couch. "Go on, save the world, make your difference. Same as the rest of 'em."

"Dat's not fair, 'manda, and you know it."  Anger flared, white hot sharp and just as controlled. "Remy not leaving you, or anyone. I'm leaving de mansion. Because I need to. You rather dat I stay here and be useless? Feel like merde just because you don't like change?" Remy's voice softened, and gentled. "I thought dat you were my friend."

She wrestled with that one. He was right, and she was being a brat. She let out a sigh that was almost a whimper, and she gave Remy an anguished look. "You are my friend, that's the fuckin' problem," she told him, not even trying to control the emotion in her voice now. "An' I don't want you t' be miserable, 'S just Pete's gone an' Nate don't even bother talkin' to  me now an' Moira's busy with the  baby an' even Dom's off doin' her own bit of world savin', an' then Charlie..." She hitched in a breath, not wanting to turn into weepy teenage girl on him. "An' I can't be with Manny any more. Everyone keeps tellin' me that reachin' out is human, that it's good t' open  up, only when I do, people leave, an' it hurts." Sucking in another breath, she managed to stave off the lump building in her throat. "You get me, Remy. More than anyone else, even Manny. An' I don't want you t' go, even though I know you have to. That's all."

"Remy not going to leave you, chere." He repeated, just as softly. "Like Tante said, we linked. Dere's roots here dat don wash out from de first storm." He took her hand gently, for once without the twitch of discomfort at touching. "No matter what, chere, Remy always going to be dere when you need me. I wish dat I had a way to show dat to you."

It was the touch that  did it - with a  hiccuping sob Amanda scooted across the couch, crossing the gap between them and ending up half in his lap as she
clung to him. "'M tryin', Remy," she choked out into his shoulder, her face pressed against his neck and one or two traitor tears soaking into his shirt. "'M tryin' t' be strong, but it's hard, an' sometimes it feels like everythin's slipping out from under me."

"I know, 'manda." He held her carefully. "You just got to keep telling youself dat dis isn't everything in de world. Even when people leave, dat don mean dey not coming back. Or dat you don have a place wit' dem neither. Remy been trying to learn dat lesson."
 
"'S hard not t' take it personally when people go an' you don't hear from 'em again," Amanda replied, but slightly steadier. Remy was warm, and he smelled good, a familiar mixture of cigarettes and bourbon and  aftershave, which was odd because Remy was known for the stubble. And  the feeling of someone holding her was more of a comfort than anything he could have said. "'S just all so fucked up, I dunno who I am any more. An' that scares the fuck out of me," she confessed softly.

"You do know, 'manda. No matter how twisted up it gets, you know de right thing to do. Just got to remember to listen to youself when it happens." Remy soothed her slowly. "You strong 'nough to get through all dis if you want to."

"Am I? I don't feel that strong. 'Specially when just as I think I'm gettin' there, I fall in a heap again." She sighed, her breath tickling Remy's neck. Beneath his shirt she could feel his heart beating under her hand. "Sometimes it feels like everythin' an' everyone's slippin' through me fingers no matter what I do, an' all I want t' do is hold on." Her hand tightly involuntarily on his shirt, reflecting her thoughts far  better than words could.

"You can't hold on to  people like dat, chere. Much as you might want to." Remy said, grimly considering his own experiences in that department. "Some things don't need dat grip. Dey always going to be dere, if you just realise it."

Were they? Charlie had certainly proved otherwise, gone without warning, without even letting her know anything was wrong. "Maybe," she said, non-commitally, resting her forehead against his neck just below his ear. The position meant that her nose was practically on his neck, inhaling that aftershave of his. Taking a deep breath, she said, apparently out of the blue: "You smell good."

"Must be all dat bathing. Who know dey were right, neh?" Remy tried to lighten the mood, knowing that it was doomed to failure. He shouldn't have told Amanda this way, not on top of everything else, but he couldn't see another way without it looking like he was abandoning her too. "You be  alright, chere. Remy know it."

"Glad someone cares enough t' think so." She inhaled again, inadvertantly nuzzling his neck in her efforts to breathe in more of that tantilising smell. Maybe it was just the man himself. "Is it all right if I stay here tonight? After... everythin', I don't feel like goin' back t' my room."

"Course. Let me go get de blankets from my room." No sense sending her back. At least here she'd get a chance to relax a little. Amanda was hanging on by a hair's breath, that much was obvious. If some distance was what she needed, he could provide that.

Also, not that LeBeau would admit it, but it gave him the chance to break the embrace. Amanda was too close; too warm, and it had been an uncomfortably long time since LeBeau had been with a woman.

"No," she blurted out, and then amended. "Not yet? I just need..." She trailed off, unable to put into words just what it was she needed. "I don't wanna be alone just yet," she finished lamely. "Bein' here, with you... It makes things make more sense." Not to mention it made her wish for things that probably would make  the school's collective hair curl. Being this close... it reminded her of the weeks after she'd first arrived, of evenings spent so close they practically wore each other's skin. Even with Manuel she couldn't reproduce that.

"Oui." Remy stilled, letting her lay there, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Amanda had relaxed a little, the death grip on his shirt relaxing slightly. He was keeping his meeting with Pete from her. His racing around the world. Even his plans for the Hellfire Club outside of Xavier's control. Hiding enough that he felt ashamed, even with his own feelings. Tante had said they were linked, as much emotionally as any other way. His feelings for Amanda had opened up the first cracks for Gambit to come through.

She meant a lot to him, as much as Lorna did. Part of his honesty with her was his way of showing how much he cared; to never lie about what was important. Remy didn't know if it was love, because his emotions were too twisted to convey anything that simple. What he knew was that he'd willingly trade his life for either of them. Their happiness was important, so much that he avoided any thought of his own because he knew it would cause them both pain. 

It seemed they sat that way for hours. Or maybe it was only minutes, stretching into the silent house. It was one of the reasons she'd taken to coming here, using it as a refuge; the peace of the place, even when Remy was watching one of his Indian soaps with the volume turned up to annoy Cain, or Cain was belting out Alison Blaire songs in the shower. She couldn't explain why, but there was a peace here, a security. Maybe it was down to the fact either of these two would - and could - stop anything that tried to get her. Cain because she'd saved his life, Remy because... Well, just because.

He'd kill her if he knew about the deal with Selene. Perhaps even literally. And somehow that was a comfort too. Amanda had no illusions about what would be required of her end of the deal, but at least there was a safety net. Someone to stop her falling all the way.

She could feel the pulse throbbing in his neck, and struck by an impulse she wouldn't have denied even if it had occurred to her to do so, she turned her face slightly, pressing her lips against it. His skin was warm and tasted faintly of soap and she had to close her eyes tightly against the sudden longing that filled her. She knew then what it was she needed. HIm. Simple, uncomplicated, the way it once had been. To hold onto someone, any way possible.

"'manda." Remy started, but her hands in his shirt tightened.
 
"'S all slippin' away, Remy. All of it." Her eyes were bright with tears, and her grip that of a drowning man on the last bit of drift. "I need t' feel somethin' that's real. Something I can believe in."
 
"Dis isn't--" Lebeau stopped himself. He was going to say it wasn't right, but that wasn't necessarily true. The anguished raw emotions behind her words struck deeply. "You know dat Remy will be here. You don't have to bribe me."

"I wish it was that." Amanda shook her head. "I just need to feel somethin', Remy . Somethin' here and real, that's not about t' disappear the second I blink." Her lips found his neck again, and her words were half seduction and half plea as she shifted so she was straddling his lap. "I need something to stay here for me."

"Non. Nothing ever stays dat way, 'manda. You got your fingerprints all over me, inside me, just like mine in you. In all of us." His thumb traced the fat curve of her lower lip, touch featherlight. "It doesn't stay, but it is, chere."

She closed her eyes briefly at the sensation of his touch on her mouth, giving in to the urge to kiss his thumb. "You want me t' go then?" she asked softly, opening her eyes again to meet his. "You say the word, I'm gone. But you're right, I do have yer touch on me. You wonder why I keep comin' back, why I don't want you t' go? Because no matter what, there's somethin' between us. I don't know what it is, but it's there. An' it's important."

They sat that way for a long moment, just her weight on his legs and their faces mere inches apart. "Non." Remy said finally. "I should. But I won't." He shook his head, fingers never leaving her face.

"Don't leave, Remy."

"I won't."

Leaning forward, she kissed him then, softly. A promise and an invitation all in one.

Remy cupped her cheek, drawing her against him as she kissed him. His tongue gently parted her lips, slipping into her mouth as she leaned into him.

Amanda inhaled sharply at the touch of his tongue against hers, reaching up to wrap one hand around the back of his neck and pull herself closer. Her free arm went around his waist, her hand running up over taunt back muscles. The kiss deepened, their tongues twining, a small whimper of pleasure escaping her. It had been so long, too long and too lonely and Remy knew, he understood who and what she was.

And that was what she craved more than anything else, what pushed her to him.

Remy's hands travelled down Amanda's back, fingers trailing down along the muscles. He cupped her rear, pulling her closer into his lap. His kisses became more forceful, urgent as her entire length connected with him.

She could feel the urgency in him, and that only fuelled her own need - she ran her fingers up into his hair, loosely grabbing a handful that served as a way to pull his head towards her further as she kissed him back just as fervently, breath coming in small pants. Her hand slipped up under his shirt to caress smooth, hot skin. Clothes, there were too many clothes, was her disjointed thought.

Amanda's weight shift brought her right up against him, scalding hot. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman, and even longer since he'd had Amanda against him. Remy moaned, biting at her neck as she writhed against him.

The moan sent shivers up her back, almost more so than the feel of his teeth against her neck. She pressed herself up against him, breasts rubbing against his chest. Closer was what her body was demanding, she had to have him closer to her.

A remnant of rational thought urged Remy to his feet, lifting her with him: it wouldn't do to have Cain walk in on him making out with a student. "You need to eat more, chere," he told her disjointedly, kicking the door to his room closed behind them with his foot and pushing her back against it. She wrapped her legs around his hips and there was a shudder as they rocked up against the door; a dull echoing thud. Remy's lips were locked on the hollow of her throat, hands holding her against him as he suckled at the soft skin. Her hands slid down his back and under his waistband to the skin of his buttocks, sliding over the runnels of scar tissue and skipping over hot skin. His cock strained against his jeans, pressed against the cusp of her groin.

She moaned, rubbing herself against the hardness pressing into her, both hands now cupping his buttocks underneath his jeans. Dropping her head, she ran her lips over the curve of his ear, biting gently at the lobe.

Remy let his head loll to one side, giving Amanda's lips freedom of movement on his body. One of his hands left the curve of her ass, tracing the lines back up her body, over the hip, the muscles along her torso and up over the lush curve of her breast.

He'd given her an in, and she took shameless advantage of it, trailing a series of small bites down his neck, into the hollow of his collarbone, pulling one hand up to pull aside the collar of his shirt so she could kiss the skin of his chest. Of course, that step lead to another, pretty obvious one - she began working on the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with dexterous movements of her fingers, before the brush of his fingers against her breast made her lose track of what she was doing entirely. With a gasp, she pressed her mouth to his naked chest, kissing and sucking his skin.

Remy sucked in his breath between clenched teeth as her mouth reached his chest, leaving hot patches where ever she touched. Her entire body was being supported by his hands, pressed firmly against him as her mouth found purchase.

Pushing his mostly-unbuttoned shirt off one of his shoulders, Amanda moved up to the hollow of his throat, nuzzling him first with her nose and them her lips, before kissing her way up the line of his throat, stubble tickling her lips. She wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling herself up higher against him and her other leg joining the first to tighten around his hips. The slightest hint of the telekinetic spell took some of her weight off him.

Remy met her mouth as it reached his face, tongues interlocking. He ran his hand under her shirt, up along the naked skin of her back, and along the lines of her spine.

She shuddered at the touch of his hand on her back, tracing out the knobs of her spine, the play of muscles, and she kissed him harder, pressing up against him, feeling the warmth of his bare chest against the skin of her stomach where his hand was making her t-shirt ride up. Plunging her hand down his half-off shirt, she skimmed it over his back, the lines of scars a contrast to the smooth skin between. She wanted him badly, so badly it was an ache between her legs, in her belly, and she groaned into his mouth.

Remy clumsily tugged Amanda's shirt over her head, tossing it off into a corner as they rejoined the kiss, bare skin against skin. His skin was like fire against hers, and she yanked his shirt the rest of the way off, losing the last couple of buttons. Confident he wouldn't let her fall, she unwrapped one arm from around his shoulders, planing her palm down his chest, rubbing his nipple with the ball of her thumb even as she rubbed his tongue with the tongue stud. The grain of the door was hard and cool against her back as he pushed her up against it harder, and she arched her back a little against him, instinctively moving towards the heat of him.

Remy snapped the clasp of her bra, breaking the plastic with his fingers. His palm brushed her nipple, only one hand holding her up against him and the door. She mewled into his mouth, and he felt it in the centre of him; directly from his mouth to his gut to his groin.

She was so ready for him she was probably soaking through her jeans - the touch of his fingers on her nipple sent a new wave of sensation through her, and her head swam. "I want you so fuckin' bad right now," she gasped as the kiss broke, pressing her open mouth against his neck.

"Dat sounds like a request." Remy said, huskily. He worked at the clasp of her jeans, taking in her breasts and stomach muscles as she arched against him, the hot crux of her legs pressed up against his aching cock.

Jeans off were good, only to slide them off required her to let him go. Regretfully she unclasped her legs from around his hips as he unbuttoned the clasp, sliding down his body until her feet hit the floor. Still, one advantage to this... she reached for the button on his jeans, shrugging off the remains of her bra as she did.

Remy tugged at the edge of her jeans, pushing then down the arc of her hips as she worked on his waist. The jeans puddled around her ankles, and his fingers brushed across the damp patch of her underwear, thinly covering her sex. She gasped as his fingertips flickered over the tender flesh.

For a moment she lost control of her fingers at the wave of sensation ripping through her, and she paused in her wrestling with his jeans button to press her mouth to one of his nipples, rubbing it with the stud in her tongue and listening to him inhale sharply. Then she practically wrenched his jeans open, unzipping them and pushing them down over his hips. His cock sprang free, hot and throbbing against her stomach as she pressed closer to him again.

Remy pressed her head to his chest, as her tongue worried his nipple. His other hand slipped past the elastic of her underwear, nudging them down and rubbed over the bulge of her clitoris. She moaned against him, as his fingers dipped inside her. Breath coming in harsh pants as his fingers teased and stroked, her own hand slipped down to wrap around his cock, gently rubbing it, her mouth hot and wet against his chest. Kicking her foot free of her jeans and underwear, she lifted her knee, rubbing it against his thigh, giving him better access to her.

Remy slid his hand under her leg, lifting her again. Both of them were too far past rational thought as she wrapped her legs around him again, only some deep instinct prompting her to clamp down even harder on the link as Remy braced her against the wall and slid inside of her. She cried out as he entered her, the sensation almost overwhelming, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bracing herself against him. There was a thump as he pushed her up against the wall, drowned out by her increasing moans as he began to thrust into her and she to writhe against him.

Remy held her ass, pushing her into him with each stroke. The door shuddered with rhythmic thrusts, and their moans began to match the tempo. Each thrust drew him deeper into her, and she gripped him tighter with her legs, panting moans escaping her. Her body was on fire, even nerve burning, and she didn't want it to end, even as her body drove her on towards climax. So close, so bloody close... Her fingernails dug into the muscles of his shoulders as she rocked into his thrusts.

Remy guided her with his hands, positioning her on him with each movement. Her breath was growing into pants, and Remy could feel the quivers start in the muscles under his hands. Their bodies were sweatslick and flushed, and her sex was so wet that each stroke slipped faster into her.

Her moans were becoming short cries as she edged closer to coming, urging him to go harder, faster, clenching herself around him. Then suddenly she was there, her body arching and stiffening as she came, unable and unwilling to muffle the noise.

There was no way that Cain missed those noises, one part of Remy's brain told him, but the entire rest of him was completely uninterested in that fact. He clutched her close as she came, pressing her against him.

Still moving against him, Amanda lay her forehead against his, panting slightly. "Fuckin' hell," she breathed, before she moved in to kiss him again.

"Dat sums it up, oui." Remy said, meeting her kiss, still holding her up. They stayed leaning against the door, pressed together.

"Yer legs must be killin' you, holdin' me up," she murmured, not making any move to release her hold on him, feeling him still deep inside her, her muscles clenching and relaxing in the wake of her orgasm. "An' you aren't done yet."

"Dat's true. But Remy got all dem special powers." He chuckled lightly. "Training and all dat." He turned, her legs still wrapped around his waist. Still nested inside of her, he eased down beside her after laying her on his bed.

"Showoff," she said with a low, throaty laugh, shifting slightly and drawing him inside her more securely. She ran her hand down his side down to his ass, admiring the tight planes of muscle, laced with scars, bruised and scraped. "Still nice, even when you've been through the wringer," she remarked.

"Been a while." Remy's fingertips followed similar lines. The fingers traced over the curves of her body, lingering on her turgid nipples. "'fraid dat I was losing my figure."

"The way you move, you don't stay still long enough t' get fat," she teased, top leg hooked over his. She leaned in and ran her tongue over his chest, letting the stud come into play - he tasted of salt. "If I asked you to, would you take me with you?" she asked softly.

"Is dat something you likely to ask, chere?" Remy replied, equally softly.

Amanda was silent for a long moment, then shook her head slightly. Her nose bumped his chest lightly with the movement. "No," she replied. "I'm not done here yet. I'd be a liability, get you killed. But I s'pose I want t' know if the option's there, if I called you an' asked, you'd let me." She blushed a little in the darkness. "An' now I'm soundin' like some love-sick schoolgirl. You scared off yet?"

"Not till you start talking 'bout de wedding, 'manda." Remy placed a hand on her hip, moving her back against him; sliding inside her fully again. "Remy's life, it a hard one. Wouldn't wish it on anyone." It wasn't an outright 'no'.

She noticed. "I know. That's why I haven't asked," she replied, smiling a little as she moved against him. She leaned up to kiss underneath his jaw, flicking the soft skin with her tongue.

Remy sighed as her tongue went to work on him. Her hips met his as he slid in and out of her, trembles running through her as they slowly built. A slight smile grew as the sensations slowly grew,

With a wicked grin, Amanda pushed him over onto his back, following him so she was straddling him. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, rocking her hips, riding him with excruciating slowness, to draw the sensations out.

He took her thighs, running his hands along them as she drew almost entirely off him, before sliding back along the entire length of him. Remy leaned forward to nuzzle between her hanging breasts, licking and suckling. With a sigh she arched towards him, increasing the rhythm just a little, her hands running over his back and shoulders.

Remy closed his eyes as she built up speed, his hands and tongue working blind against her flesh. Her slick sex grasped at him, and he gulped for air, feeling the orgasm build in him.

Feeling his building tension, Amanda increased the pace, driving herself onto him, taking him as deeply into her as she could. Dipping her head, she bit his neck lightly, hands holding him closer against her.

Remy ran his hands down her back, holding her close against him as she straddled him. The speed kept building, and Remy moaned. He shuddered as he climaxed, tightening his grip almost to the point of bruising Amanda's skin. Amanda held onto him almost as tightly, drawing out the moment as long as she could, ignoring the almost to the point of pain grip he had on her. She understood.

Remy was breathing heavily, the shudders slowly subsiding as the waves of his climax ebbed. Amanda nuzzled his neck, and he turned into the contact, soaking up the touch. She recognised the reaction, felt it echo something deep inside her and continued to hold him, stroking his back with long, languid movements as she kissed his neck and then his ear. "I think you needed that," she said with a small, sad smile. They both had.

"Can't imagine a time when dat statement is not a true one." Remy said, finally laying back and bringing her with him. The boathouse was completely still around them; the background hum of the mansion muted and insulated.

Rolling off him to nestle into his side, Amanda made an affirmative noise. "'S so quiet here," she said, then paused. A moment later: "Oh bollocks. Cain would have heard most of that, wouldn't he?"

Remy nodded. "'less he was outside or fast asleep, oui, Cain got de full surround sound experience. Guess I wasn't thinking 'bout dat."

"Me neither." She buried her face in his shoulder, realising just how many ramifications there were to this little tryst of theirs, more worried for him than for herself. She didn't care what people thought of her, not now. "Fuck." Then a snort escaped her. "Just as well you're leavin' tomorrow, hey?"

"Remy t'ink he might be catching an earlier plane, oui," he agreed, running his fingers along her side, enjoying the slight shivers the light touch elicited.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want t' cause you trouble," she whispered, but made no move to go just yet, curled up against his side. The sweat was cooling on her skin, and he was blissfully warm.

"Not'in' Remy can't handle, an' like you say, I'm leaving tomorrow." He didn't want to remind of that fact, but there it was, huge and insurmountable. "Jus' hope dey don't go all teacher on you, give you grief."

"I can handle it," she replied, and she meant it. Something about being here so close to him made her feel like that she could take on the world if it gave her grief. His faith in her was so strong, she couldn't help but respond. If only she'd been able to manage it before, back in August... She banished the thought. "Just do me a favour? When you go, don't tell me? Just leave. I suck at goodbyes." Her voice was drowsy, eyelids too heavy to lift as the tension ebbed away and she wrapped her arm around his waist.

"If dat's what you want, chere," Remy said softly. "Remy not good at goodbyes either." She made a sleepy noise of thanks, and he fell silent, letting the night and the silence enfold him as Amanda snuggled against his side. Part of him warned to make sure she got out before the day rose, but he didn't listen. Instead, he lay there, absorbing the sound of Amanda's breathing slipping into a rhythmic pattern, before dropping off to sleep himself.