xp_logs | Ororo and various others

Saturday afternoon, Ororo and Remy really talk things over. (No really. Really talking. Really.)

It may have bothered a less serene woman to be wearing the same clothes out as she had worn yesterday, but Ororo didn't seem to mind. She had 'borrowed' Remy's shower and stood under the hot spray for a good long time, and that, combined with a few other things, had made her feel refreshed and practically glowing. It was late afternoon, almost evening, and she and Remy had just set foot outside the apartment for the first time that day. The Cajun seemed to know where he was going and so she let him lead the way, content to take in the sights and sounds of the city, which seemed fresher today than they had before.

Remy, on the other hand, had something of a quandary. If he showed up in one of his usual haunts during his day off with Ororo, they'd have an idea what was going on. After all, he helped train them to be nosy suspicious bastards, and had done well. He was still piecing together the fact that she hadn't put him through a window or something hours before, but instead had been wrestling with the same feelings.

Remy put a hand on her back and guided her off to the left, his fingers tingling with the contact, despite the layers between them and her skin. "Figure dat we have a quiet drink up de street. Dere's a little Spanish place, maybe talk a bit."

"That seems a wise idea." Yes, talking... they hadn't done all that much of that yet, and there were certainly things that still needed said. Despite that fact, they didn't actually say much until they were inside the restaurant-cum-bar, waiting for the waiter to bring their drinks. It was then that Ororo smiled, crossing her legs and letting her elbows come to rest against the tabletop and she leaned forward towards Remy. "Well. Here we are. And with so much conversation fodder between us."

"And Remy can't think of a damn thing to say right now." He said with a wry smile. He'd removed the ever present sunglasses, and the light reflected oddly off his strange red on black eyes. "You know something, chere? Dating is something dat I've got almost no experience in."
"Luckily, our chosen careers seem to emphasize the ability to be able to think on one's feet," Ororo responded with a chuckle. "Few things we attempt are something we've encountered before, and yet we both seem to make it through well enough. I think that bodes well for this." Whatever this was...

"Remy should point out dats also where de scars come from too, neh?" They both leaned back as the waiter brought a chilled red clay jug of wine and a pair of short tumbler-like glasses. He poured for them before leaving them to their conversation. "I got to tell you, 'Ro, dat I'm just feeling my way through here."

"You say that as if it is something to apologize for. I would rather you do not feel as if I am... expecting something, or that I will be judging what you do." She contemplated her glass for a moment, feeling the chill of the liquid seep through to her palm. "I think if you continue to feel that way, it will be a sure strategy to sabotage ourselves with. I did not come to see you with any expectations, save communication. And that continues to be my only expectation."

"You dealing wit' de man dat made low personal expectations his specialty." Remy took a small sip, turning the glass in his hands. "Comes down to it, I don't trust myself wit' people much. Always assume dat one day, I'm going to have to be de one dat hurts dem. 'manda, Lorna..."
He gave her a thin, wry smile; just a crook of the side of his mouth. "It's hard for me not to see all de reasons dat dey'd be better off wit' someone else."

"Well, I must say that I am not used to having my judgment questioned, so perhaps you can trust that I know my own mind and I have not made a mistake in wanting to pursue this further." She wasn't going to push this overly hard; if it wasn't meant to be, she could deal with it. But if he could just let go of the cynicism and self-loathing that seemed to color every personal decision he made... "You are not going to destroy me, Remy. I am capable of protecting myself, if need be. But I do not think I have to from you."

"I don't question you judgment wanted to date me. Just you sanity." Remy finally took a sip from the glass and set it back down, looking at where her hands rested. "Besides, I have very low prospects. Remy don even get dental or a pension plan. You going to regret dis when we turn 65."
"As it happens, I have a very good pension," Ororo told him, smiling now. "Perhaps if you ask nicely I could be convinced to share."

"I was thinking of getting a job at dat Wal-Mart. One of dem greeters?" He fidgeted with his glass. "You get de blue smock for free, dey tell Remy."

She laughed again, easily, and lifted her glass for a drink. "Don't quit your day job, mpenzi. Somehow I think it is much better-suited to you. Call it a hunch."

"You just get off on de thievin', chere." Remy pointed out, a glint in his eye. While he said it jokingly, he also knew he was right. Ororo was a better person than him. She believed in the moral decisions she made without any sort of hypocrisy, and yet, he could see the rush she felt; the almost sexual tingling of the well executed criminal act. "Or you looking for Remy help you retire much sooner."

"There are a few things you can help me with, but retirement is not one of them," Ororo replied teasingly, bumping his leg with her foot under the table. Leaning back in her chair, she surveyed Remy, trying to judge where the conversation was heading. At least he had stopped the self-denigration; that was a good first step.

"You never know. I've been taking accounting courses at night, maybe. Learning dat tax law. Bet I can find all kinds of loopholes for you." He was grateful for the coolness of the wine. After today, any sort of sensation helped ground him, underlining that it was real and this was happening now.

"Remy Lebeau, CPA? Now that is something I would like to see. I had always heard accounting was a cut-throat business… I had no idea how true it was."

"It's hard to look threatening wit' a calculator, you know." LeBeau responded, topping their glasses up a little from the jug. "Guess de whole superspy thing isn't dat cool any more."

"Alas." Taking another sip of wine, Ororo then set her glass down and folded her hands on the table, a picture of relaxation and ease. "Somehow, I think we will make do."

"Tell me something," Remy started, putting down his glass and gesturing with his hands. "When did you come to, well, figure dis out? I mean, when did it go from whatever it was before to what it is now?"

"It was not an all-at-once thing... it has been some time coming, I think." Ororo pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Though certainly it began before Africa. However, I think it has only been in the last few weeks that I have fully realized 'what it is now'... for a variety of reasons."

"Variety of reasons?" Remy paused. "If one of dose is some sort of shared girl gossip between you and de femmes at de mansion, Remy gon' shoot himself now and get it over wit'."

Ororo grinned, shaking her head. "No, no. I assure you have been nothing but discrete. I was referring more to internal reasons, things I have decided myself."

"Like what?" LeBeau always asked a lot of questions, but for once it wasn't his engrained habit spurring him on. When Lorna had come back, he'd never been able to understand the reasons, even as she'd tried to articulate it. When they'd split, he still didn't understand where he really fit in. Now that she was dating again, he had been left with the conclusions that he was forced to draw, because he didn't have any more information. With Ororo, he was determined not to travel down that path again. He needed to understand why she came to him, and what she really wanted if he was going to be able to make this work.

"Well..." Somehow it felt funny to be voicing the thoughts that had been going through her head for so long, but she wanted to be honest with Remy. She knew, above everything else, that nothing about this could work without honesty. "The first and most important thing was the realization that we have a... connection that I have not felt with anyone else. And everything we have been through together in the past year has only served to temper that... though there were many times it could have broken, for some reason it did not."

"Dat's because you so damn stubborn." He joked lightly, obvious affection in his tone. Behind his look, Remy was concentrating carefully, taking it every nuauce of what she said. Later he'd turn it over and over in his mind, making sure he wasn't letting his own issues get in the way.

"Yes, well. Regardless of the reason," she said, giving him a look, "it seemed something worth exploring. In addition there is my resolution to start doing things for myself, things that I want... and this is something I want. You are what I want."

"Now dat's something." There would be more, obviously, but he had his place to start with her. At some point he'd wake up from all of this, but for now, he needed to believe in something. "Well, despite all dose women dat are just lined up to date Remy," He paused in the utter silence, as if to illustrate the point. "I think dat you right. Dis is something worth exploring."

Ororo was more relieved than she let on that he had said that - there had still been a hint of doubt between them, she felt. Now they could truly look forward to whatever came next. "I am glad you feel that way. And I think we can both agree that whatever 'this' is, it is bound to be interesting."

"Potentially in dat Chinese curse sort of way. Let's be honest, chere," Remy finished his glass. "our first vacation together involved stealin' Qoran's for you old boss. And de second one didn't end up in Disneyland." He actually grinned, amused at both of their seemingly infailable tendencies to attract trouble.

"Both of those were your doing," she pointed out, chuckling. "As a matter of fact, I distinctly remembering saying 'no' more than once when you proposed we go to Cairo. Even Brazil was your idea." She left out the fact that she had of course eventually agreed to each trip, and she never would've admitted that each soujourn had stirred something in her, something that she wasn't completely willing to let die out. He probably knew anyway.

"So, let me get dis straight." A wicked gleam shone in Remy's eyes. "What you saying is dat you can't say no to Remy. Dat it?"

"What I'm saying," Ororo retorted, looking equally entertained by this, "is that no matter how many times I do, it does not seem to make a difference."

"Dat's because I always know what you really want, despite you trying to hide it." He emptied the last of the jug between them. "Speaking of hiding it, how do we make dis work? We tell de others? Let dem find out? Meet only in secluded bars wearing false mustaches?"

Ororo had to pause for a minute to laugh at the mental image - it really was absurd. When she had regained her composure she leaned forward to reach for her glass, pondering the question thoughtfully. "I do not see a reason to hide it, nor the need for false mustaches. I am sure word will get around quickly enough on its own... there really is no need to make an official announcement, I would think."

"Now you tell me. Remy already took out dat full page ad in de New York Times for tomorrow." He said, although there was something strange behind his eyes.

"Oh my." Ororo had only said that because she had thought it was what Remy wanted. Looking at his expression, however, she wondered if she might have been wrong. "Do you think that is necessary? Because I do not plan to make a secret of coming to see you, or vice versa. Perhaps you ought to save your money and let word spread the natural way." Reaching over the table to take his hand, Ororo gave it a squeeze. "Though it would make for an interesting discussion at the breakfast table."

"I'd imagine dat I'd receive a couple of phone calls dat day." He traced the lines of her hand, the bones under the soft brown flesh, with his own fingers. She was right. He didn't want to go tell the world, but at the same point, he didn't think he could try and hide a relationship again. Not after what had happened with Lorna. "You know, de rest of de office likely signing out 'round now. You want to go meet up wit' dem, have a bite to eat?"

She really should go back to Westchester... she had played hooky long enough, and there was work to do. On the other hand, there was also her decision to do more things for herself, things that she wanted to do... "I would love to."

Then they meet up with the Snow Valley crew for some more talk, this time of the teasing variety.

Remy opened the door to Finnigan's, getting hit with the normal rush of warm air against the chill of the street. It had already gone dark, and he wasn't surprised to have caught sight of most of his fellow employees at their usual table. Now, the question was how to do this? Non-nonchalantly? Act as if it was a surprise to see them? Pretend nothing had happened?

His musing was interrupted by the knuckle in the small of his back, pushing him forward from where he'd stopped in the door. With a slightly sheepish grin, he stepped inside and shook the moisture off his jacket. "Pardon, chere. Remy just lost in thought a moment."

"Better to be lost somewhere that doesn't keep me out on the street," Ororo remarked dryly, the warm air around her briefly heating to evaporate the wetness from her face and hair. "Perhaps a booth would be a better spot to ponder."

"I think dere's a slim chance of that." The doorway kept them currently from sight of the Snow Valley staff, but that wouldn't last long. He slipped his hand down her forearm, a light gesture but one of assurance for himself, that she wasn't going to just disappear. "Look, why don't you grab a seat? Remy go get de drinks, neh?"

With a nod, Ororo leaned in to place a kiss on Remy's cheek, then stepped around the door to survey the room for an open spot. Remy was right, there was little chance of finding an open booth to sit at, and most of the tables were filled as well. Luckily, the sight of some familiar faces at a nearby table gave her hope that they'd be able to sit after all. Smiling, she headed in the direction of the Snow Valley team, lifting her hand in a wave as she approached. "Good evening, everyone."

At the voice, Wanda turned in her seat, putting her drink back on the table. "Ororo, what a pleasant surprise." Leaning up, she gave her friend a hug before she moved her seat over a little bit. With the crowd tonight, their usual table was a bit tight, though no one had really minded. After all, the food was worth it. She gave the other woman a cheeky grin and teased, "So, come here often?"

"Never before. Though if I had known this is where I could track all of you to, perhaps I would have come sooner. It certainly has Harry's beat in terms of menu options," Ororo added, surveying the assorted plates of food on the table. "Could it be, bar food that is not wings or peanuts?"

"The wings're good," came Amanda's voice from behind her as the rather exhausted-looking witch came back from the bathroom, sliding back into the booth next to Mark. "And there's three different sorts of dipping sauce to go with them." She managed a tired smile at the older woman. "Please tell me you aren't here giving us more work. Pete's been riding everyone pretty hard and he doesn't need the encouragement." Not to mention Amanda herself had been dividing her time between New York and the school, keeping an eye on Angelo. Tonight's appearance was the result of a carefully-orchestrated plot by her fellow Junior Trenchcoats.

"Burger," intoned Mark like a zombie. "Beef. Man need beef. So tired. So sober. Not enough meat in my life." He stifled a yawn and laid his head on Amanda's shoulder. Between the business at Snow Valley and his duties at Silver, he wasn't particularly coherent or functional himself. But far be it from him to stay away from the group outing. Beer and burgers solve most everything, anyway.

"Obviously Remy missed part of the conversation." LeBeau said, carrying two drinks over from the bar. He squeezed into a seat next to Ororo, and set both drinks down on the table. "Who, other den himself, drugged Mark?"

There was a snort from Wanda. "Clearly he has already done a bang up job himself," she responded, laughing. "There is very little need for us to get involved at this point." Reaching over, Wanda patted Mark on the hand. "There, there, darling, we'll stuff enough meat in you to make people blush."

"Less than three," replied Mark, and he straightened himself in his seat again. "And for your edification, I've been clean for at least a week now. I'm no good as an office bitch with any residue of questionable legality. Which, for the record, I don't indulge in, anyway. Stop looking at me like that, Angie."

"I think we could all do with more drugs right now..." Amanda snorted, then gave Mark an grin as she reached for a wing. "Not that any of us do that sort of thing. At all. So! What about that local sports team?" She ducked a fry thrown at her by Marie-Ange, and gave Ororo a curious look. "You never got a chance to say why you were here, Ms. Munroe. Not that you're not welcome, just you're not a usual suspect for joining our sessions here."

Ororo smiled, sipping her drink slowly, as she had already had the benefit of the wine shared with Remy earlier that afternoon. "I came to see Remy, but thought I would be remiss in my duties as friend and colleague if I did not stop to see all of you as well." She glanced sideways at the Cajun, wondering if that was an overt enough announcement - information gathering was Snow Valley's trade, after all... they could probably draw the correct conclusions just from this data.

"I did say I was taking de day off." Remy pointed out, still holding his drink as he did so. The fight or flight response was warring very hard inside, and he'd already determined that vaulting Mark and then using him to break the front window constituted his best escape avenue. " 'Ro came by for lunch."

Now that got Wanda's attention and she turned to look at Ororo and Remy. "So we can see," she responded, a sly grin started to break through. She looked far, far too amused. "Well, I certainly hope you will...continue to come to stop by and see Remy. And, of course, us as a by-product. Of course." She shot Ororo a look that implied there would be cornering and potential gossiping at some point or another. A chuckle escaped before she took a drink.

"But of course," 'Ro replied with a mirroring smile, knowing that whatever hadn't been divined now would certainly be shared soon enough. She slipped her free hand under the table, letting it come to rest lightly on Remy's leg.

Even through his exhaustion-induced haze, the minor shift of movement caught Mark's eye. He looked over at Wanda and noticed her knowing smile, then looked back at Ororo's arm. "Holy shit," he whispered, and slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter that was threatening to explode.

Doug's eyes widened at the subtle shift in Ororo's body language as she leaned in towards Remy. The 'holy shit' was echoed in his mind, but he didn't say anything. If they had found happiness together, Doug was happy for the both of them. But he wasn't about to say anything embarrassing, especially with the way Remy looked coiled to bolt for the door at a moment's notice. His eyes flicked to Marie-Ange for a brief moment, and a wistful look stole over his face before he busied himself with his private plate of "atomic" wings.

Amanda caught the flash of expression on Doug's face, tired as she was. Perhaps because she'd been careful to make sure he was doing okay given her own change in circumstances. She nudged his knee - well, hopefully it was his knee - under the table with hers in a comforting gesture, and then set her mind to trying to putting together the dissonance between her last talk with Remy about Ororo and what she was seeing now. "Well, I figure you got forgiven then?" she asked Remy lightly, a broad grin of pleasure beginning to creep through. She liked Ororo. The fact she called the woman "Miss Munroe" was a clear indication of that.

Subtle. One day he was going to have to teach them subtle. Between Wanda, Mark and Amanda, they didn't have an ounce of pokerface between them. They didn't even have yahtzee face. "You, uh, might say dat, oui." He replied finally to Amanda, taking a sip from his glass to cover his sudden embarrassment. Remy LeBeau, Professional Death-Dealing Assassin Super-Spy, trying to avoid blushing like a six year old girl to a group of teenagers. Maybe if he asked Wisdom nicely, he'd hotknife him quietly in the washroom or something.

Ororo had to resist the temptation to make the situation much worse - if Remy's expression was any indication, that would have precipitated a hasty retreat and possibly some mild hysterics. She settled for saying "Quite forgiven; I can admit when I am wrong. And he can be very persuasive," and squeezing Remy's leg. Okay, so maybe temptation had proven a little harder to resist than she had initially hoped.

There was a great deal of snickering coming from Wanda's direction. Raising her glass, she beamed at them both. "To...forgiveness, then, shall we say?" she asked. This was fantastic in a hysterical and wonderful way, all rolled into one. Wanda was happy for her friends and she enjoyed the teasing as much as the next person. Alright, possibly slightly more than the next person.

"Oh man," Mark said between chortles, and took a large gulp of beer. "It's a joke, guys. They're just getting back at me for the Fall Out Boy. I mean back at Doug for the Fall Out Boy."

Doug raised his eyebrow at Mark. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Mark," he said seriously. His poker face was better than the rest of the group's had been, except for the small twinkle of amusement at the corner of his eye. "To forgiveness," he echoed Wanda's toast, tipping his glass to Remy and Ororo with a smile that said he was happy for them.

"Forgiveness. 'Specially the sort that involves days off," Amanda chimed in, holding up her pint glass with a mischievous grin.

"Don't expect to see one of dem anytime soon." Remy said to Amanda, his embarrassed look switching over to annoyed. Not that she cared in the slightest. "Not Albany dis time. Remy thinking Louisville, or Toledo. Cleveland."

"I have heard Miami is nice this time of year," Ororo interjected, chuckling a bit.

"Ooh, beach. I like her - can we keep her, huh?" came Amanda's cheerful response, blithely ignoring the deathglares Remy was giving her. They'd had a cunt of a month, Remy had had even worse a year, and this was good news.

"Ooh, can I come too?" asked Mark excitedly. "Or if you don't want us too far away, then we could ask Emma for a place in the Hamptons. Who fucking cares if it's winter?" He smiled brightly. "Okay, so this is the part where we get to be sixteen year-old girls and get you to give us the details. So, spill."

"Or not." Pete set his drink down at the table, having been listening from the bar, his expression absolutely deadpan. "As amusing as all this is, you might all note that as your employers, we have maintained a strict policy of non-interference in the love lives you all make time for by not working hard enough."

He turned to Remy.

"I of course, expect to hear all the gossip later."

"Remy make sure to write dat up, Wisdom." LeBeau said, surprised to find that he was actually enjoying this. He'd never admit it, of course, but the people around him where the ones he was closest to. The fact he was close to anyone was a source of amazement, and that they actually seemed happy for him. It was a little overwhelming, and a little frightening at the same time. It never bothered Remy to admit that out of the job, his personal life was a shambles, because he still knew very little about being a person, even after two years.

"Should I be worried that my personal life will forever be chronicled in the annals of Snow Valley files?" Ororo asked then, directing her question at Amanda and Mark. "Not that I am protesting, as I too consider this an occasion worth remembering, but with all else that you do, I would hate to be mixed up with zombie-creating madmen or egomaniacal dictators and thus risk having my greenhouse searched for incriminating evidence."

"That'd only happen if Mark mixes up the files again," Amanda said impishly. "Like the time he put 'Demonic Realms' in with the expense reports."

She entered the bar along with a harsh gust of bitter wind and the door slammed open with a loud bang. A boisterous roar of curses came from the bar as an annoyed British woman's voice could be heard over the melee. "Quit your crying, it's not like I did it on purpose!" Betsy turned back from closing the door and walked towards their table. "Shit, it's cold out there," she said to the group as she took off her black gloves and long coat, finally looking up and noticing the newest addition. "Oh, hello, Ororo."

"Betsy, hello," the white-haired woman remarked, smiling at the Englishwoman serenely. "It is good to see you. We were just being regaled with tales of Mark's filing mishaps."

"Really? Is that so?" Betsy remarked, looking curiously at the spastic facial expressions spread round the table, except for Pete's amused one and Ororo's calm front. "Why have the lot of you gone all twitchy?"

Mark's glare traveled from Amanda to Ororo to Betsy. "Okay, first of all, I only misfiled that one time. And really? I'd bet my first born that Emma's accounting staff are, if not actual demons themselves, then demon worshippers. So that accident really isn't much of a stretch. Geez. And second" - his glare instantly transformed into his naughty grin - "Reeemy has a giiiirlfrieeeend."

A strangled noise escaped Wanda as she stared at a spot right above Amanda's head. Because if she even looked at Mark--or Remy or Ororo--she was going to die. It would be a long and painful death and...she couldn't help it, she really couldn't. She'd gone insane because how else would you describe the sudden fit of giggles she couldn't stop? Especially when she did get a good look at Mark and the expression on his face. "If you," she sputtered, "start singing that song with the kissing in the tree...death...much..." She trailed off into another fit of laughter.

"Once, I was a feared assassin. Now, de token gay guy who gets de coffee and de frizzy haired academic get to make fun of me. Merci for de job, Wisdom. Remy just pop out de back and kill myself now." Remy said, mock despondently. Under the table, he pressed his leg a little firmly against Ororo's, both enjoying the feeling and the sense of surety, that this was reality, that it brought. Remy had made a decision, and now it was time to find out where that would lead.

"Perhaps we could wait on the hari-kari a bit longer?" Ororo ventured, all too amused at what had transpired since they had reached the pub (not to mention relieved that Remy seemed to be taking this in relatively good humor). "As noble a sentiment it is, I was just getting used to this 'girlfriend' thing, and I would hate to carry the stigma of relationship-killer with me for the rest of my life. Especially if it is in a literal sense." Feeling generous, she reached for her wallet, looking around the table at the eclectic group gathered there. "Now. If you will all promise to behave and leave Remy alone for a few minutes, the next round is on me."

And then a slightly-drunken talk with Amanda ensues, in which Ororo is assured that really, this is a good thing.

It was getting late, and Ororo really ought to be going. That said, she didn't particularly want to. Despite their teasing, the Snow Valley group had been nothing but welcoming to her, and she was rather enjoying spending time with Remy in a context that didn't involve running around whilst being chased by half-men, half-machines and shot at. It did seem like the evening was winding down, however, and she sat sipping a bottle of water in one of the now-vacant booths, feeling relaxed and wondering how long it would take to get to the car from that particular pub.

Her contemplations were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a blonde British witch. Amanda plopped herself down without ceremony into the other half of the booth, a half-full pint of beer in her hand and a slight flush on her face. Exhaustion plus alcohol equalled one inebriated girl. "Hello," she said, with a slightly tipsy grin. "Mind if I join you for a sec?" Her accent was thicker that normal too, echoing Pete's more than it had for a long time.

"No, I do not mind at all... in fact, I welcome the company," 'Ro responded, smiling. "Are you having a good evening?"

"I'm having a brilliant evening," Amanda pronounced, the grin a little wider. "I'm with my mates, Angelo's gettin' better, and Remy's in the best mood I've seen him in since..." And here she had to pause and think. "Um, since ages. Even his birthday wasn't this good, 'cause there was that whole Lorna bollocks fu... um, messing him about." She pointed at Ororo with the hand she was holding onto the glass with. "You? Are the best thing that's happened to him for a bloody long time, Ms. Munroe."

Raising her eyebrows, Ororo tried not to look too amused. "Well, thank you, Amanda. I am glad to see I am not having an overly negative influence on Remy's attitude... I would like to see him happy, too."

"Well, see, that's the difference, isn't it? You want him happy. Even if it meant you didn't get what you wanted, you'd do what made him happy. No startin' things you couldn't finish just because you're a spoiled twit..." Amanda wrinkled her nose, and then shook her head. "Any way. Doesn't matter. I just wanted t' let you know you don't have t' worry 'bout me rainin' on your parade. 'Cause I like you. An' you're a good fit. An' Remy deserves someone that'll make him remember he's a human bein', not the monster he keeps thinkin' he is." She paused, and then confessed in a not-so-quite whisper. "'M a bit drunk, Ms. Munroe. I hope you don't mind. Been a tough week."

"I don't mind at all," Ororo told the girl, "but you do not have to call me 'Ms. Munroe'. Ororo is fine." Anything but 'Stormy' was fine, actually. "I know you have had a difficult week - if there is anything I can do to make it easier, please let me know." She played a little with the top to the water bottle, more glad than she could admit that the younger woman was 'approving' of her. Despite her relative confidence that this was the right thing for both of them, knowing that others felt the same way was reassuring.

"Ororo. Right." A slightly-pleased smile crossed the girl's face. She really liked Ms. Mun... Ororo, and it meant a lot that the older woman wasn't shocked by her. Then again, she was dating Remy. Definitely there was more to her than there first appeared. "Things're gettin' better. An' I live with or I'm related to some very sneaky people, so 'm doin' better than I was." She indicated the glass. "Havin' a night off helps. Just wish there was more I could do t' help Ange - he's a right mess." The smile slipped a little.

"I think in this case, time and support are the best things you could offer him," Ororo said sympathetically. She knew how frustrating it could be to have a friend in need and not be able to solve the problem - especially for those of them who were accustomed to being able to fix things far beyond the scope of 'normal' problems. "Though it may seem glib to say it, it will pass, with time. He will get better."

"I hope so." There weren't words to describe how much she wanted to see him recover, how worried she was, but it came through in that one phrase. "Maybe once these bastards're taken down. Any way." And here she made a transparent attempt to shift the conversation back to less-troubling paths. "I s'pose we'll be seein' more of you 'round the place now?"

"I would imagine so, yes." Though she and Remy hadn't exactly discussed the logistics of things, it seemed more feasible that she would be visiting the brownstone than he would come to the mansion that often. "Though of course, only as dictated by my schedule. I fear it will not slow down merely because now I have a reason to want it to," she added with a wink.

Amanda snickered. "Yeah, evil's got a habit of poppin' up when you want it to least. An' you can't exactly tell the bad guys t' bugger off, you've got a date tonight."

"Exactly!" Ororo said, laughing. "I'm sorry, I just had my hair done... can't you try to take over the world tomorrow instead?"

The witch giggled, and the laughter eased the strained cast of her face. "See, now I've got this image of Remy tellin' that to the next villain we come across..." she managed through the giggles.

Ororo found it hard not to laugh even more at this mental image and she nodded, biting at her lip until she was able to speak. "Well, he is rather touchy about his hair..." She glanced around to make sure the Cajun wasn't actually within eavesdropping distance; she didn't know if he would see the humor of it all.

"He was even worse when it was still long. But then Lockheed burned it off, talk about sad..." Amanda's giggle turned conspiratorial. But there was a certain fondness as she looked over at where Remy was chatting with Pete. "Remy's a plonker sometimes, but he's not such a bad bloke," she said with classic Amanda understatement. Then she grinned at Ororo. "But I don't need to tell you that."

"I had a suspicion," Ororo told the young woman, smiling back at her. "It is easy to tell the worth of a man by the friends that he keeps. And Remy has very good friends indeed."