xp_logs | Log: Remy/Ororo: His and Hers

Ororo has once again suffered a limited powers burnout from over-extending her abilities, and it isn't the only challenge facing her.

"We have to stop meeting like dis, chere." Remy said wryly, his face a patchwork of bandages and bruises. It seemed almost unreal that it was all over, and impossibly, all of their people had gotten out of it. Lilandra Neramani's speech before the UN had poked a hole in the taut expanded tension, and sanity was coming to the region as quickly as it had been driven out in the first place.

In all, it had been a success, although in the first days after, there was enough to do nursing their aches and pains to notice overmuch. LeBeau handed her a cup of coffee as she came in the door, leaning against the counter to look her over. "Happened again, didn't it?"

"How could you tell?" came the tired response as Ororo reached gratefully for the mug and wrapped her hands around it like a lifeline. She bore none of the injuries or bruises that Remy sported but there was still something wounded about her, a slighty ashen tint to her skin that spoke of misuse or malnourishment.

"You move differently. My powers pick up on it." Remy touched her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her hair. "And since de way you move is one of de most important details in my life, Remy tend to pay close attention to it."

This elicited a slight smile from the silver-haired woman, and she leaned into his embrace as she sipped her coffee. "Well, I'm not sure how long this might last, so I apologize in advance for any blips on the radar."

"It came back last time, chere. Won't be long 'til you back moving de weather 'round just so you can take a shower. And I can watch you take a shower." He smiled thinly at her and sipped from his mug. "You still feel like you got a bit of a connection though. Dere anything dat you can still do?

"I would make a stunning weather girl."

"Bien, 'cause you a lousy comedienne." Remy said, rolling his eyes and not conceling his grin at her stab at humour. She had been beaten down by the mission, but she was a long way to fighting back up already.

"Well, there are two possible professions off the table." Despite the light tone she took, the look in Ororo's eyes was pensive. Since returning from India she had felt unsure of her place at the mansion - though she had not had words with the Professor outright there was a tension in the air that had her off-balance. "I apologize for dashing any fantasies you might have had."

"Well, you do pretty well fulfilling most of dem, and once we get 'round to buying dat naughty stewardess costume, dat will round out de rest." He looked at her, trying to see in her face what she was thinking. "What do you think dat you want to do?"

Ororo sighed. "I do not know. I have spent the past few days at the school and now that I have left - I cannot face the thought of going back." She shook her head, unable to meet Remy's eyes.

"Dat's... not exactly what I expected." He put down his mug on the counter, taking hold of her by the arms lightly, trying to keep an confusion from his features. "Why not, 'ro?"

"Because," she said, her voice tightening like a rope twisted too thin, "it is a school, and we... we are an army. Soldiers. And should all that we fight come back upon us... they would be the ones to suffer first and longest. The students. Children."

"If dat's de case, it started a long time ago, 'Ro. Magneto, Reavers, Striker... why is dis time so significant?" Remy said, his voice gentle.

This time the answer was quiet. "I do not know. Perhaps because... a long time ago, I was a child. When this all began, I was so young. But now I am not, and to know firsthand the danger I am - we are - putting these children in... I cannot stomach it."

Remy was quiet for a long moment. He agreed with her, although he'd slowly come to understand the Professor's approach. When it came down to it, it was her decision to make, and the last thing she needed was him trying to play devil's advocate instead of her partner.

"Look, whatever you decide, you know dat you have a place here de moment you ask, neh? Maybe take some time and just let everything churn over for a bit, and den see where you think dat you need to be." His thumbs stroked the backs of her elbows, and the sides of her arms. The idea of Ororo not as an X-Man was staggering to him. "You a good person, 'Ro. If dere's anyone dat I trust to make de right decision, it's you."

Leaning against him, Ororo closed her eyes. What she hadn't said - didn't want to say - was that without her powers she was helpless to defend the mansion should something threaten it and the children inside. Perhaps it was cowardly. In fact, she knew it was. Still, it wasn't running away, it was more like... "Tactical retreatment," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Sometimes dat's de only opinion dat makes any sense, chere." He kept stroking her arms, trying to offer what limited comfort he could. Whatever it was Ororo was facing inside, she'd have to be the one to choose when and how to fight, not him. There were times that LeBeau wished for mental powers like some of the others, if only for the very real and very human longing on not having to let someone face their demons alone in their mind.

The weatherworker sighed again, obviously conflicted but reluctant to voice her thoughts. Pulling back, she gave him a tired smile, reaching up to lay her hand gently on his bruised and battered cheek. "I have taken some time away from the school - just a week, for now. I was hoping I might be able to stay here, at least for some of the time."

"So dis is all just an elaborate way to ask to move in. Now Remy understand!" Remy said, mock triumphant. "I see through dose cunning tricks, Ms Munroe. No fool is dat Remy!" He didn't mind playing the fool if it had a chance of making her smile.

"Ah, but we haven't even gotten to the part where we talk about redecorating," she countered gamely. "Turquoise and lilac, I think. Lots of throws."

Remy looked around at his spartan apartment. "Well, it's not not so much redecorating as it is decorating in de first place. But, really, you want light blue and purple? Dat's like being trapped inside on of dem Easter floats."

"Oh, I think it will be lovely. And then we'll start adjusting your wardrobe to match..." There was no hiding her smile now. "How do you feel about berets?"

"Oddly enough, Remy never put much thought into dem. Was told if I did, I'd have to smoke French cigarettes and write poetry. Considering dat my poetry is 'bout as good as French cigarettes taste, I opted to go beret-less. And what 'bout you, chere? It's not fair if I'm de one dat has to make all de changes."

"And what would you change, hm, mpenzi?"

"Remy think dat you should go back to dat traditional look. Just de little sarong, maybe a necklace or two. You know, cultural." And mostly naked didn't need to be said.

Ororo laughed. "You've been reading National Geographic again, haven't you?"

"Only for de articles."

"That is what they always say." Taking another sip of her coffee, Ororo then set down her mug and leaned in to place a long, lingering kiss on Remy's lips. Pulling back, she looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, one hand sliding down his chest. "I will strike a deal - I will go native if you will."

"In dat case," Remy put his mug down next to hers. He was already warming to the idea of her staying here for a while. "I guess dat I better show you where you'll be sleeping... eventually."