Remy and Amanda - last Sunday night
Feb. 8th, 2004 01:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsSet immediately after this incident with Monet. No actual explicit sex this time, sorry, guys. But there is snark(TM)!
The distance between the bathroom and Room 201 wasn't much, but to Amanda the hallway seemed to stretch into infinity. And every second she took getting back meant an increased risk of someone catching her. And at that moment she wasn't sure if it was the scars or the barely-repressed tears that she wanted to hide most. Then, at last, there was the door. In her haste to open it, she dropped the bundle of clothes and shower stuff in her arms.
Remy looked up from his perch on the edge of the window ledge. Amanda had rushed out of the hall and to her room without seeing him, and he could see the upset in her gestures. With a bit of rearranging, he dropped soundlessly to the carpet and wandered towards her room.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, opening the door and then stooping to collect her dropped belongings. She told herself that the tears were anger, not anything else, certainly not anything as weak as having her feelings hurt, but it didn't help. She blinked hard, began to straighten, and then dropped everything again as a voice spoke to her.
"Dat your idea of organization, chere? Remy good at tossing things all over de room too." He grinned as he walked in. Snatching up a bra, he held it out with a smugly solemn air. "Might not want t' forget dis."
"Fucker," Amanda growled, snatching the offending garment from him and walking past him into her room. Throwing her clothes on her bed, she turned to close the door, only to find Remy had followed her in and was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with those eerie eyes. She tugged the towel that was her only covering tighter around herself.
"Somet'ing wrong, chere?" Remy said. "Dis is de first time Remy seen you modest," he added, mostly for amusement. He figured that he'd just caught her out of the shower and that a bit of post-coital embarrassment lingered.
"Yeah, well, maybe I've got reason t' be modest." Self-loathing tinged her words. "An' you had yer fun, so there's no need t' pretend yer find this attractive. So why not just fuck off an' leave me the hell alone."
"Dat something of a claim, chere. Maybe Remy leave five dollars on de table for you?" he said, his look vicious.
She glared at him, their eyes locking. Again there was that sense that he would know a lie if she told it, and her shoulders slumped. The weariness of her day's spell casting returned, no longer held back by the anger from Monet's words. "Fuck it. Whatever. Just... forget it, all right? I'm too fucking tired t' fight with you an' all."
"Dat sounds like de words of love." Remy smirked, and walked into the room. Her poisonous glare failed to phase him as he flopped down on her bed. "So, looks like you got some kind of trouble, 'manda. Feel like telling Remy what happen?"
"Not particularly." Amanda sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, folding her legs up against her chest and wrapping the towel around them. "Just got meself a reminder of what happens when you let yer guard down. Won't be doin' that again in a hurry."
"I t'ink you punishing Remy for somet'ing he not involved wit’," LeBeau stood suddenly. "Dat right? Someone make you all hurt, and de Cajun is de easiest target?"
"Hey, yer the one that walked in here without an invite..." Amanda began, bristling at the tone. Then she stopped herself. He was right, she was taking it out on him, and he'd not given her reason to do that. Normally she wouldn't care, but she remembered that he'd not given her reason to distrust him - quite the opposite, in fact. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "I had a run-in with Monet an' she said... stuff. Nothin' I've never heard before - well, except for the bit about the coconut butter, that was fucking weird. But she reminded me why it is I stopped trustin' people. I..." she swallowed, looking away. "It hurt," she said at last in a small voice.
Remy moved down next to her, his hands between his knees. "So, what did she say den? Can't really argue unless I know what’s going on."
With a sigh, Amanda let the towel drop slightly, revealing the top edges of the scarring. "She said this was disgustin'. She caught me in the bathroom with me kit off an' just comes out with how revoltin' it is. An' the worst part was she didn't even say it t' be nasty - it just came out, like we was talkin' about the weather or make-up tips." She pulled the towel tighter around herself again. "After th' other night, with you, I'd forgot what it looks like t' other people."
"Does it matter?" Remy said with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Dis you have, it might be ugly t' others, but all dat really matter is if it ugly t' you." His eyes were earnest under that stare, and he leaned forward, kissing her collarbone. "Maybe it best you decide what you t'ink first."
She shivered slightly at the touch of his lips on her skin, but kept her hunched up position. "If it were burns, somethin' from an accident, or even from me mutation, I think I could deal with it better," she admitted quietly, almost to herself. "But this... it was done t' me when I was just a kid, in a ritual I don't remember all the details of. Really dark magic. It holds me t' the magic thing, whether I want it to or not." She shivered again, but this time from something other than desire. "When I was a kid, just after I got out of the hospital, they put me with this foster family. Lovely people, they were. For the first time I had the chance for a normal life - no-one was makin' me do anything I didn't want t' do beyond brushing me teeth an' doing me homework. I was tryin', tryin' real hard. Then one day the power built up too much an' I had to do somethin' with it, so I cast a spell. Only a little one, but I got caught. Family freaked, an' I was sent t' the Children's Home." Bitterness edged her words.
"Dat mean it all you can be?" Remy said, very close to her. "Maybe de bastards hurt you. Maybe you ended up wit' dem dat can't handle it. Dat don't mean dat it all you are." Remy took her towel in his hands, and pulled it away from her, dropping it on the floor. Her shame was evident, but he ignored that, placing his lips on her stomach, neck and chin. "You all you want t' be, chere. De scars are just a covering."
He was warm, so warm - his kisses burnt her chilled skin, and she found herself responding despite herself. Or maybe because of herself; this was comfort offered without expectation of some kind of return, and it was something she needed. "When I figure out what it is I am, I'll let you know," she replied, running her fingers down his face and along his neck with a small, wry smile.
"Dat more like it, chere." Remy said, huddling her on the bed under his arm, hand idly stroking her skin. "Fact is, don't matter what on your skin, chere. What above is what beautiful. Dat all dat matter t' Remy," he said, teeth catching her skin.
She caught his lower lip with her teeth, biting gently. The she released him, murmuring: "Best lock th' door - me roomie is entertainin' munchkins at the moment, but she'd really hate t' walk in on me a second time."
"Second time? Dere something dat Remy should know about, chere?" Remy stretched out and locked his hands behind his head, grinning. "Maybe Remy get jealous?"
"Ain't any of Remy's business, but yeah, Paige sorta walked in on me whilst I was busy," Amanda said with a chuckle, untangling herself from the Cajun and getting up to lock the door.
"Remy t'ink he remember dat plot in a porno movie. Was it de cable repairman or de pizza delivery boy?" Remy waggled his eyebrows at her, his smirk growing. "Was he blond?"
"Blonde? If you mean Ramsey, yer got t' be fucking jokin'. Amanda pulled a face. "Got more taste 'n that, even if I do sleep with you."
"Unless Doug is de pizzaboy, no." Remy said lightly. "So, you saying dat Remy is tasteless. Don know if I like dat, chere. Might hurt Remy's feelings."
"Poor Remy needs t' grow a thicker skin if I can hurt his feelings," Amanda teased. She came back to the bed, shivering in the cool room.
"Bet dat what Monet says." Remy pointed out, freezing her as she was climbing into the bed. Her lips thinned white in anger at his calm statement. His eyes challenged her, giving nothing away at this fresh gauntlet.
"You bastard." She reached for her t-shirt and pulled it on, movements jerky with anger. "That ain't the same an' you know it."
"You sure?" Remy scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Fact is, chere, dat no one really knows what de other person's damage is. What if Remy been called low class all his life?" He was surprisingly serious for a moment. "Told only people dat he good enough for are de trash and de street?"
"I would've thought you'd know I'd be the last one t' call someone low-class an' mean it. I've been there - you know that - an' there's no fuckin' way I'd be gettin' on me high horse about bein' better 'n you. You tease me all th' damn time an' I don't get to tease back? It's a bit bloody unfair." Amanda folded her arms over her chest, reluctant to give in this time.
"Dat not de point, chere. You already know what Remy think. De fact is dat it's easy t' casually hurt someone." Remy rolled to his feet. "'specially if you don't stop t' t'ink. It not de words, chere. It de intentions. You been focused on de words for too long." He said, jolting her slightly. The fact was that Monet's comments, while hurting her, hadn't been delivered for the point of hurting her.
"That... what I mean t' say is, she... but... Argh!" Amanda growled in frustration at how neatly she'd been cornered and stomped her foot, just a little. "You ever get tired of bein' right?" she said, glaring at him.
"It hard t' be dis perfect, vrai." He walked over, running his thumb along her cheek. "It easy t' get hurt, chere. You likely one of de only ones dat know it as well as Remy. But maybe I found out how t' avoid it from stupidity and ignorance. Fact is, most people know nothin' bout anyt'ing, and if you let dem get inside, dey will destroy you. You don't look like de type dat needs destroyin'."
She chuckled ruefully, shaking her head. "Thing is, I know that. An' if were anythin' else, I'd be fine. There's just some thing's it's hard t' let go of. Didn't help that it was Miss Perfect - I could've taken it from just about anyone else, even Lee."
"You be surprised." Remy said, flopping himself down on the bed again. "Besides, dere are dose in dis place that have de power to mess up even how you feel and t'ink. Save de worry for dem." He smiled winningly.
With a small grin, she sat down next to him, hands twisting the hem of her t-shirt. "Well, sometimes it feels like this whole place is messin' me up," she said. "Things were a lot simpler before. Not so much fun, but, I got t' say." She tilted her head and considered him. "If I ask yer somethin', you won't get offended on me again?"
"Dat assumes Remy was offended de first time?" He said, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "You ask me anyt'ing you want, chere."
"Why's it important t' you, how I feel? You didn't have to come talk t' me tonight, an' in the mornin' no-one would have been any the wiser anythin' had happened."
"Maybe Remy head over heels in love wit you can’ bear de thought of you in pain? How 'bout dat?"
"Yeah, right," she snorted, and then gave him a look that was almost panicked. "Yer not, are you?"
"Relax, chere." Remy grinned. "You still safe. Maybe Remy just want another jump and being nice de best way to get it. Or maybe it dat it cost Remy nothing t' be understanding, and dat it help you. Or maybe Remy just likes you, and don like seeing de femme he like in pain. Any of dose work for you?"
"A couple do, yeah." She smiled at him. "Wanna see if the first one's right?"
Remy cocked an eyebrow from his recumbent position on the bed. "Maybe Remy just want t' be held, chere? It been a trying day."
"Fine," she replied, hiding her grin not very successfully. "Gotta say I'm a bit tired meself. All that healin', takes it out of a girl." She faked a yawn and slid down to lie beside him. "Night."
"Remy never mention which part of him want t' be held, chere." Remy grinned, snaking a hand along her throat and across her breast. "Still, if you too tired..."
"An' waste a perfectly good locked door? Think I can summon up the strength," Amanda said with her own grin. She ran her fingertips along his jaw. "You'll just have t' make sure I stay awake."
"T'ink I can do dat." Remy grinned, and tugged up the hem of her shirt. "'sides, no fun t' have de fight without de make-up sex after all."
The distance between the bathroom and Room 201 wasn't much, but to Amanda the hallway seemed to stretch into infinity. And every second she took getting back meant an increased risk of someone catching her. And at that moment she wasn't sure if it was the scars or the barely-repressed tears that she wanted to hide most. Then, at last, there was the door. In her haste to open it, she dropped the bundle of clothes and shower stuff in her arms.
Remy looked up from his perch on the edge of the window ledge. Amanda had rushed out of the hall and to her room without seeing him, and he could see the upset in her gestures. With a bit of rearranging, he dropped soundlessly to the carpet and wandered towards her room.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, opening the door and then stooping to collect her dropped belongings. She told herself that the tears were anger, not anything else, certainly not anything as weak as having her feelings hurt, but it didn't help. She blinked hard, began to straighten, and then dropped everything again as a voice spoke to her.
"Dat your idea of organization, chere? Remy good at tossing things all over de room too." He grinned as he walked in. Snatching up a bra, he held it out with a smugly solemn air. "Might not want t' forget dis."
"Fucker," Amanda growled, snatching the offending garment from him and walking past him into her room. Throwing her clothes on her bed, she turned to close the door, only to find Remy had followed her in and was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with those eerie eyes. She tugged the towel that was her only covering tighter around herself.
"Somet'ing wrong, chere?" Remy said. "Dis is de first time Remy seen you modest," he added, mostly for amusement. He figured that he'd just caught her out of the shower and that a bit of post-coital embarrassment lingered.
"Yeah, well, maybe I've got reason t' be modest." Self-loathing tinged her words. "An' you had yer fun, so there's no need t' pretend yer find this attractive. So why not just fuck off an' leave me the hell alone."
"Dat something of a claim, chere. Maybe Remy leave five dollars on de table for you?" he said, his look vicious.
She glared at him, their eyes locking. Again there was that sense that he would know a lie if she told it, and her shoulders slumped. The weariness of her day's spell casting returned, no longer held back by the anger from Monet's words. "Fuck it. Whatever. Just... forget it, all right? I'm too fucking tired t' fight with you an' all."
"Dat sounds like de words of love." Remy smirked, and walked into the room. Her poisonous glare failed to phase him as he flopped down on her bed. "So, looks like you got some kind of trouble, 'manda. Feel like telling Remy what happen?"
"Not particularly." Amanda sighed and sat down on the end of the bed, folding her legs up against her chest and wrapping the towel around them. "Just got meself a reminder of what happens when you let yer guard down. Won't be doin' that again in a hurry."
"I t'ink you punishing Remy for somet'ing he not involved wit’," LeBeau stood suddenly. "Dat right? Someone make you all hurt, and de Cajun is de easiest target?"
"Hey, yer the one that walked in here without an invite..." Amanda began, bristling at the tone. Then she stopped herself. He was right, she was taking it out on him, and he'd not given her reason to do that. Normally she wouldn't care, but she remembered that he'd not given her reason to distrust him - quite the opposite, in fact. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "I had a run-in with Monet an' she said... stuff. Nothin' I've never heard before - well, except for the bit about the coconut butter, that was fucking weird. But she reminded me why it is I stopped trustin' people. I..." she swallowed, looking away. "It hurt," she said at last in a small voice.
Remy moved down next to her, his hands between his knees. "So, what did she say den? Can't really argue unless I know what’s going on."
With a sigh, Amanda let the towel drop slightly, revealing the top edges of the scarring. "She said this was disgustin'. She caught me in the bathroom with me kit off an' just comes out with how revoltin' it is. An' the worst part was she didn't even say it t' be nasty - it just came out, like we was talkin' about the weather or make-up tips." She pulled the towel tighter around herself again. "After th' other night, with you, I'd forgot what it looks like t' other people."
"Does it matter?" Remy said with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Dis you have, it might be ugly t' others, but all dat really matter is if it ugly t' you." His eyes were earnest under that stare, and he leaned forward, kissing her collarbone. "Maybe it best you decide what you t'ink first."
She shivered slightly at the touch of his lips on her skin, but kept her hunched up position. "If it were burns, somethin' from an accident, or even from me mutation, I think I could deal with it better," she admitted quietly, almost to herself. "But this... it was done t' me when I was just a kid, in a ritual I don't remember all the details of. Really dark magic. It holds me t' the magic thing, whether I want it to or not." She shivered again, but this time from something other than desire. "When I was a kid, just after I got out of the hospital, they put me with this foster family. Lovely people, they were. For the first time I had the chance for a normal life - no-one was makin' me do anything I didn't want t' do beyond brushing me teeth an' doing me homework. I was tryin', tryin' real hard. Then one day the power built up too much an' I had to do somethin' with it, so I cast a spell. Only a little one, but I got caught. Family freaked, an' I was sent t' the Children's Home." Bitterness edged her words.
"Dat mean it all you can be?" Remy said, very close to her. "Maybe de bastards hurt you. Maybe you ended up wit' dem dat can't handle it. Dat don't mean dat it all you are." Remy took her towel in his hands, and pulled it away from her, dropping it on the floor. Her shame was evident, but he ignored that, placing his lips on her stomach, neck and chin. "You all you want t' be, chere. De scars are just a covering."
He was warm, so warm - his kisses burnt her chilled skin, and she found herself responding despite herself. Or maybe because of herself; this was comfort offered without expectation of some kind of return, and it was something she needed. "When I figure out what it is I am, I'll let you know," she replied, running her fingers down his face and along his neck with a small, wry smile.
"Dat more like it, chere." Remy said, huddling her on the bed under his arm, hand idly stroking her skin. "Fact is, don't matter what on your skin, chere. What above is what beautiful. Dat all dat matter t' Remy," he said, teeth catching her skin.
She caught his lower lip with her teeth, biting gently. The she released him, murmuring: "Best lock th' door - me roomie is entertainin' munchkins at the moment, but she'd really hate t' walk in on me a second time."
"Second time? Dere something dat Remy should know about, chere?" Remy stretched out and locked his hands behind his head, grinning. "Maybe Remy get jealous?"
"Ain't any of Remy's business, but yeah, Paige sorta walked in on me whilst I was busy," Amanda said with a chuckle, untangling herself from the Cajun and getting up to lock the door.
"Remy t'ink he remember dat plot in a porno movie. Was it de cable repairman or de pizza delivery boy?" Remy waggled his eyebrows at her, his smirk growing. "Was he blond?"
"Blonde? If you mean Ramsey, yer got t' be fucking jokin'. Amanda pulled a face. "Got more taste 'n that, even if I do sleep with you."
"Unless Doug is de pizzaboy, no." Remy said lightly. "So, you saying dat Remy is tasteless. Don know if I like dat, chere. Might hurt Remy's feelings."
"Poor Remy needs t' grow a thicker skin if I can hurt his feelings," Amanda teased. She came back to the bed, shivering in the cool room.
"Bet dat what Monet says." Remy pointed out, freezing her as she was climbing into the bed. Her lips thinned white in anger at his calm statement. His eyes challenged her, giving nothing away at this fresh gauntlet.
"You bastard." She reached for her t-shirt and pulled it on, movements jerky with anger. "That ain't the same an' you know it."
"You sure?" Remy scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Fact is, chere, dat no one really knows what de other person's damage is. What if Remy been called low class all his life?" He was surprisingly serious for a moment. "Told only people dat he good enough for are de trash and de street?"
"I would've thought you'd know I'd be the last one t' call someone low-class an' mean it. I've been there - you know that - an' there's no fuckin' way I'd be gettin' on me high horse about bein' better 'n you. You tease me all th' damn time an' I don't get to tease back? It's a bit bloody unfair." Amanda folded her arms over her chest, reluctant to give in this time.
"Dat not de point, chere. You already know what Remy think. De fact is dat it's easy t' casually hurt someone." Remy rolled to his feet. "'specially if you don't stop t' t'ink. It not de words, chere. It de intentions. You been focused on de words for too long." He said, jolting her slightly. The fact was that Monet's comments, while hurting her, hadn't been delivered for the point of hurting her.
"That... what I mean t' say is, she... but... Argh!" Amanda growled in frustration at how neatly she'd been cornered and stomped her foot, just a little. "You ever get tired of bein' right?" she said, glaring at him.
"It hard t' be dis perfect, vrai." He walked over, running his thumb along her cheek. "It easy t' get hurt, chere. You likely one of de only ones dat know it as well as Remy. But maybe I found out how t' avoid it from stupidity and ignorance. Fact is, most people know nothin' bout anyt'ing, and if you let dem get inside, dey will destroy you. You don't look like de type dat needs destroyin'."
She chuckled ruefully, shaking her head. "Thing is, I know that. An' if were anythin' else, I'd be fine. There's just some thing's it's hard t' let go of. Didn't help that it was Miss Perfect - I could've taken it from just about anyone else, even Lee."
"You be surprised." Remy said, flopping himself down on the bed again. "Besides, dere are dose in dis place that have de power to mess up even how you feel and t'ink. Save de worry for dem." He smiled winningly.
With a small grin, she sat down next to him, hands twisting the hem of her t-shirt. "Well, sometimes it feels like this whole place is messin' me up," she said. "Things were a lot simpler before. Not so much fun, but, I got t' say." She tilted her head and considered him. "If I ask yer somethin', you won't get offended on me again?"
"Dat assumes Remy was offended de first time?" He said, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "You ask me anyt'ing you want, chere."
"Why's it important t' you, how I feel? You didn't have to come talk t' me tonight, an' in the mornin' no-one would have been any the wiser anythin' had happened."
"Maybe Remy head over heels in love wit you can’ bear de thought of you in pain? How 'bout dat?"
"Yeah, right," she snorted, and then gave him a look that was almost panicked. "Yer not, are you?"
"Relax, chere." Remy grinned. "You still safe. Maybe Remy just want another jump and being nice de best way to get it. Or maybe it dat it cost Remy nothing t' be understanding, and dat it help you. Or maybe Remy just likes you, and don like seeing de femme he like in pain. Any of dose work for you?"
"A couple do, yeah." She smiled at him. "Wanna see if the first one's right?"
Remy cocked an eyebrow from his recumbent position on the bed. "Maybe Remy just want t' be held, chere? It been a trying day."
"Fine," she replied, hiding her grin not very successfully. "Gotta say I'm a bit tired meself. All that healin', takes it out of a girl." She faked a yawn and slid down to lie beside him. "Night."
"Remy never mention which part of him want t' be held, chere." Remy grinned, snaking a hand along her throat and across her breast. "Still, if you too tired..."
"An' waste a perfectly good locked door? Think I can summon up the strength," Amanda said with her own grin. She ran her fingertips along his jaw. "You'll just have t' make sure I stay awake."
"T'ink I can do dat." Remy grinned, and tugged up the hem of her shirt. "'sides, no fun t' have de fight without de make-up sex after all."
