Log: Remy and Pete finally have that conversation...

[x-pete.livejournal.com]

Remy and Pete have a long overdue chat over a drink, last Friday, before the chaos of the weekend.



If Charlie was wrong, this was going to be a mess of horrible proportions.  Hell, even if he was right, this was dangerous enough.  Pete paused a minute, then hammered on the door of the boathouse - he'd seen Cain dealing with more rebuilding up at the house, so the odds were good that LeBeau was home alone...

"Oi!  You in?"

"Dat depends." Pete jumped at the voice behind him. "You here for Cain or for me, homme." Remy said warily. Of all the people in the mansion, Alpha powered or not, Pete Wisdom was the one that worried him the most. Entirely because he was the one would wouldn't hesitate in killing him if he thought Remy was a danger.

Pete caught himself before lashing out.

"LeBeau, of all the many people around here who set my teeth on edge, you are the dead last person who wants to be surprising me."

He turned round.

"So.  I've had a chat with Charlie.  And yeah, now I'm here to have a chat with you."

"Dat going to involve de rubber hose and lots of fire?" Remy said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and assuming at least a superficially non-threatening pose.

"I'm not that creative."  Pete lied blandly.

"No, Charlie's made it very bloody clear that you're a guest here, and I'm to play nice.  But the thing about Charlie is that he's a very nice man, and like to see the best in people."  He stepped away from the door of the boathouse, and lit up, never taking his eyes off Remy.

"I, on the other hand, and a basically horrible person.  I'm sure you understand what that's like."

"You can say dat." Remy nodded, fishing for his own cigarettes. "Dat job you pulled in Plesetsk was pretty much legend in some circles. Even mine."

Even though it was cold outside, neither man took his eyes off the other, evalutating possible dangers.

"Let's not start that, eh?  I mean, I can rattle off a fucking charnel list of things you've been linked to, and yeah, I've got me own bodycount, but that ain't why I'm here."  He took a drag on the cigarette.

"Other than a last couple of mysteries I hope you can help me clear up, I'm more interested in the future than the past."

"What's dat, den?" Remy said, momentarily off balance. Gambit's record was one of vast and creative death, and he'd wrongly assumed that Wisdom would be down asking about that, rather than his own dubious position here at the mansion. "Remy here t'serve, course."

Pete raised an eyebrow.  "Firstly, where the hell Sarah went just after you broke out of here the other week.  And secondly, why you're so astonishingly well-preserved.  Your youthful good looks pretty much saved you from a much rougher time the first time you were here, but I don't like bits of puzzle that I can't make fit..."

"Firstly, Sarah who?" Remy said. Wisdom opened his mouth for an angry retort, and Remy cut him off. "Anything dat happened last week is between her and whoever involved, homme. Not even de Prof going t' get dat out of me. As for de second, dat's going to take some time. Want a beer?"

Pete took another drag on his cigarette to hide his smile.  Just the fact that LeBeau knew enough to know that there was something worth hiding there was enough for now.

"I've got a few hours spare, so yeah.  Harry's?"

"Don't seem to remember anything else around here. Remy said. "One thing, Wisdom. De CIA are watching dis place, and Remy sure dey got agents in town. Dat might go high on de 'to talk about ' list."

"Them and a few other agencies, yeah.  And believe me, that's already on the list of things we need to talk about, along with anyone else that might suddenly become interested in the place, now you're here."

Pete moved off down the path to the gate, making sure to keep his eye on LeBeau as he walked.

"Langstrom. David Langstrom. Chester Whelan's new protégé in de Agency. I'm pretty sure he's de one dat tried to activate me." Remy walked along, eyes moving slowly left and right as his power took in everything. "De Professor's got connections to de Director, so he must be operating under de radar on dis."

"I'll add him to me ever-growing list of bastards up to things they shouldn't be.  Any idea what his agenda is?"

"Non. Containment would have been my guess. Dis place, especially to an already paranoid Agency, must look like de biggest terrorist training camp in history, Wisdom." Remy said, suddenly sounding less like a teenager and more like an experienced operator. "Dey got a legitimate reason t' keep an eye on de Prof. I guess when dey brought me back, Langstrom must have thought de Professor already compromised de conditioning, so dey activating me just to find out."

"The bloody scariest, certainly."  Pete smiled thinly.  "Counting you, that's three or four times that one agency or another has taken a crack at fucking this place up.  You'd think they'd get the hint at some point."

"Dey never made a concentrated push, far as Remy can see." Gambit shook his head as they neared the bar. "Best I can see, dey kept coming for limited objectives. One day, dey going to push for real; de only objective being de body count."

"Yeah, but they're not going to be able to do it quietly.  They're either going to have to send in enough troops that they won't be able to catch us napping, or they're going to have to bomb the place.  Either one should give us time to get most of the kids out."

"One can hope." Remy shrugged. "Mobility and secrecy was how I'm used to operating. Tied down to one place does not make me comfortable."

Pete flicked the cigarette away, after a last drag.

"You get used to it.  But while I think of it, you could do worse than having a chat with Cook, if you get time.  You've seriously pissed him off a few times, slipping in and out of the place.  If you're going to get tied down here, I'm sure we'd all appreciate a hand in locking the place down a bit tighter."

"I do dat." Remy paused. "Kuk is good. Very very good. Despite what I told de Professor, dis place isn't far from being as secure as it can without seriously changed de routines of people, and dat makes it a base, and not a school." Remy shook his head as they reached the door of the pub. "Dis must drive you insane, Wisdom. You been here for how long, wit' all dis going on?"

"Been here a bit over a year.  Can't decide if it seems like longer or if it's all just a blur."  He paused.  "I just try and get on with the job in front of me on any given day.  Make all the plans and contingencies I can, do me best to keep the really horrible shit away from the decent people, and hope to god that we get through the next crisis."  Another pause.  "I never saw meself dying of old age, even before I came here."

"Good point." Remy agreed, as they settled into the table. Both men ordered pints, and briefly jousted over position. Finally, Remy conceded to Pete and sat with his back to the door. "So, about de future. I'm guessing you got de intelligence for dis place wired. Where do I fit in?"

Pete frowned.  "Well, I think we start off by getting you to write up anything and everything you think it might be useful for us to know about your old life - anything you think could possibly be relevant to this house, the people in it, or hell, anything you're just plain not sure about."

He took a sip of his drink.

"After that, we'll see.  If you're half as good as your repuation, then I can think of a few places I could use better intel about."

"Dat works. I gave de Professor some files from de Agency. Lots of history on dere black ops work. Bet dere are some timebombs dere." Remy nodded, eyes' flickering around the bar. "Been out of de world for a while though, so I don't know how active my old network still is."

"Then that's something to find out as well.  Preferably before Langstrom can take any steps to cut off anything that remains of it."

Pete leant back.

"But that's not going to get done now.  And I've still got this burning curiosity about your horrible youthful energy..."

Remy almost grinned. "Dat is a mystery. Want to know de worst part? I've got all de memories and experience, and all I want t' do is go clubbing and get drunk like an eighteen year old."

"De process is called Leonization. Named after Ponce De Leon. Real clever, oui? It slows de aging process, but only for people wit' de X gene, and only if you under de age of twenty. Dere's something 'bout your cells dat means once you stop growing, de treatment don't work."

Pete did a double take.  "You've got to be taking the piss.  I was expecting to hear about a really fucking good plastic surgeon, or something."

"Project called LOSTBOYS. You know dat any real operative is at least 25, just because it takes dat long t' learn de skills. So counterintelligence operates off of a specific profile for de people dey after. No one pays attention to a kid." Remy looked into his glass. "De downside is dat the process is long, dangerous, and has t' be repeated every few months. 'bout ninty-five percent don't survive de first process. Dere have been two hundred operatives in LOSTBOYS. You do de math on dat."

Pete frowned.  "Any idea what happened the other other ten, then?  And hang on, does that mean you're going to age normally from now on?"

"Basically. Remy been out of de program now for a couple of years, and already looking older." Remy shrugged. "De rest of dem are on de streets somewhere. Same activation codes dat I had. My guess is dat de Agency is either activating dem now or hunting dem down. Can't even use de Cerebro to find dem."

"Yeah.  Fuck.  You know, that big tin hat of Charlie's is all very well, but I'm not sure it's ever been any bloody use in a crisis."

"Guess not. If they are activated, dat gives Langstrom some powered agents. Merde, I didn't consider dat." Remy sat back, thinking. "Might want to check on dat security sooner den later."

"Yeah.  And if you know anything about the rest of them, it'd be good to get that for out files, as well."  Pete lit up again.  "And while I'm thinking like I'm part of some bloody team, I suppose I ought to check if you're planning to let them fit you for the pervert-wear?"

“Dat’s for de Professor to decide. I don’t think dey want me on one of de teams, but if dey ask, Remy not going to say no.” LeBeau looked into his drink for a minute, before taking a long swallow. “Gave my word t’ Xavier dat I’d do what dey needed me to.”

"Can't imagine Summers is gagging to have you on board, but fair enough." Pete kept his face carefully neutral. "So, having satisfied my urge to be professional for the evening, we do have a little personal business to talk about, and all." He lit up again. "Amanda."

"Dat get's complicated." Remy said, looking truly uncomfortable for the first time. "De femme was--" He paused, trying to get control. "Manuel. It started with Manuel. He-- I-- Merde. Look, when dey first brought me here, I was wary of everyone. Part was conditioning, part was me. Dere were two people dat I trusted. 'Manda, cause she knew de streets like I did. And Lorna. Don't know why, but she trusted me. Know what dat's like?"

Pete nodded stiffly.

"Well, I guess dat dey both came t' mean something. Manuel did somet'ing to Lorna. Twisted her up, made her burn her hand, acting as his slave. 'manda healed it. Saw what Manny did. And then she went back to him to wash away her hurt. When she let me know, I wasn't nice about it. Called her a whore for dumping Lorna just so she could get a fix." Remy stopped, his hands moving nervously. "Remy hurt her for dat. When I came back, she-- dere was enough dere dat Gambit had a chance to get control. I liked 'manda. Cared about her. And dat gave him de chance to twist it enough to get free."

Pete frowned.

"Fine.  Like I said, it ain't the past I'm worrying too much about.  But I figure, you're going to be hanging round, you can't avoid her forever.  So I guess I'm looking for some idea what you want, if anything, from her, in the long term."

He paused.

"I'm asking because I know full fucking well that I get completely irrational where she's concerned.  Like I said, I suspect that you and I should do our damn best to avoid any misunderstanding for the immediate future."

"Dat makes sense." Remy said, taking a long pull from his pint. "Don think I want anything from 'manda, least not in an obvious way. I'm not in love wit her or anything, if dat's what you're thinking."

Pete waved a hand, while taking a drag from his cigarette.  "No, wasn't thinking like that.  But like you say, you cared about her.  And I'm pretty sure she used to like you.  And for all you've fucked her over, I figure she'll probably forgive you, given time.  So, if she does?  You trust yourself not to do anything else to fuck her up?"

"Dere is still Manuel." Remy said. "Dat homme was enough to nearly let Gambit out months ago. De hate is dere, Pete, still. And now dat she's his shield." Remy shook his head, placing the empty glass down on the table. "Dat's going to come up one day. Probably sooner den later."

Pete rolled his eyes.  "You know, I'd worry so much less about her if de la Rocha wasn't in her life.  Still, at least you're bright enough to see the problem coming.  Who knows - tread carefully, and maybe we can all get through it with the minimum of explosions."  He took a sip of his beer.

"Free advice in dealing with de la Rocha, though.  One: he's got all the maturity of a twelve year old.  Keep that in mind, and he's a lot harder to take seriously - makes the outrageously stupid notions he spouts much easier to ignore.  Two: he might be dangerous one day.  He isn't yet, and there are enough people watching him to make sure that he'll never quite reach the point of being a serious threat.  Don't get paranoid about him."

"Can't say I agree with the lack of danger, homme, but you do have a point." Remy shrugged, a crooked smile coming to his mouth. "Guess de teenaged melodrama is still not out of de system yet. So, what do you have in mind for Remy past dat?"

"Depends.  Tradition at Xaviers says that as an ex-spook you should be made a guidance counsellor for the kids, but somehow, I think you might actually be worse at that than I manage to be."  Pete paused, a slight grin on his face.  "Hmmm.  I've been thinking about putting together my own version of Emma's speech class, now she's not about.  D'you fancy helping me teach some of the brighter kids to lie, cheat, swindle and bluff, once you've found your feet?"

"Not much of a teacher, homme, but I guess I could try." Remy said, looking a little incredulous. "You sure dat de Professor going t' want de students learn de types of skills dat we got? Could have a whole group of conmen in just a few months."

"I'm not suggesting we teach them everything we know, even about just running a scam - we've got to be able to keep the little bastards in line, after all.  But Emma's class was a good idea - teach the little bastards a little bit of social control, and how to get by on their wits.  Get them to think a bit."

"Dat sounds a little more like Remy's style." LeBeau nodded. "Guess I could take a crack at dat. Thinking of heading t' Europe next week. Start seeing what's left of my old networks."

Pete nodded.  "Good idea.  Let me know how you get on."  He took another drink of his beer, and checked his watch.  "Look, I've got to be getting back.  I've got one other bit of advice for you, while I'm thinking of it.  I've got no idea what the last while's been like for you, but I know what it was like for me to wake up one morning, and realise that I'd been working for bastards.  So this is my advice, and you should feel free to tell me to fuck off: don't look back.  You're never going to make up for it.  Forgivness, redemption, atonement, whatever you want to call it - there's no sodding point, it won't bring anyone back, and it won't save anyone else.  Get on with whatever you decide the job in front of you is, but do it because you think it's worth doing, not because you think you've something to make up for."

He drained his beer.  "I settled for making sure that the decent people at Xavier's don't have to make the shitty choices.  The kids, and the people that believe in Charlie's happy dreams.  I'll do me best to make sure they don't have to get their hands bloody.  Maybe you want to aim higher, and fair play to you.  But don't look back."

"Stay fucked up so others don't have to? Not exactly a motto for de family shield, but not an unreasonable one." Remy said. "You got a deal, Pete. If we're very lucky, neither of us are going to end up regretting it."