xp_logs | Nathan and Remy, Thursday morning (Reply)

Sometime after this log, Nathan 'overhears' the tail end of Scott and Remy's 'conversation' and intercepts the Cajun, dragging him outside and back to the boathouse for a beer and a talk.

Biting back a sigh, Nathan leaned back against the wall and waited for the person he could sense coming down the hall to turn the corner and reach him. "You're projecting again," he said as Remy appeared. "Since you do that once in a blue moon, I'm assuming you're having a particularly bad day." He gave the younger man a quick assessing once-over. "I was going to offer to buy you a beer, whether or not it's early, but you look more like you need to be thrown in the direction of a shower. Or a bed. Probably both."

"Remy just thinking how nice it used to be to kill people for money. Homme, do me a favour? Offer Gambit ten to kill Summers. Merde, Remy even lend you de money." LeBeau fumed. He was beyond angry, quietly sinking into the white rage that made spots appear in his vision. Xavier's favourite hall monitor had all the operational experience of a woodchuck, and he acted like he was the infallible General.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Beer," he said mildly, tilting his head in the direction of the nearest door. "I'll raid Cain's fridge, and you and I can go find somewhere quiet, where you can fantasize about killing Scott to your heart's content."

"Five. I've got a five right here." Remy started digging into his pockets as Nathan firmly dragged him out the door. He settled into a lope down the path, his carryon thrown over one shoulder.

"I charge a whole hell of a lot more than that," Nathan said amiably. "Or did. And so did you. How the mighty have fallen." The cool air outside was like a very welcome slap in the face, and Nathan led the way down to the boathouse. Ducking in to steal a couple of beers, he promised Cain he'd stop in for a more lengthy conversation afterwards, then joined Remy back out on the deck.

"I won't ask what was going on," he said, settling into one of the chairs. "Suspect it's something I'm better off not knowing."

"Europe, poisons. Hell, Remy not even sure I know what's going on any more." Remy closed his eyes and held the can up to his forehead. "In a general sense, I found out who's playing the shadow war wit' us, and brought it in. Unfortunately, de Supreme Commander took offense to being told how dangerous de intelligence could be. You know, all dat experience he's learned in his long career."

Nathan snorted softly and shifted in his chair, propping his feet up on the railing as he popped the lid off his beer. "Did you ever ask yourself just how Pete and Scott have managed to work together for as long as they did? I mean, I don't think they're all that fond of each other on a personal level. But they have been cooperating fairly successfully for longer than either of us have been here."

"Dat's not de point, Nate. Summers blows dat intelligence and half de school gets killed, it not his fault. It's mine." Remy's faced darkened. "I got too many deaths on my conscience to add more because Xavier's favourite son just happens to be a neophyte in dis business. De rules are hard and mostly fatal, and dats something dat most people don't learn."

Nathan shook his head. "Drink your beer," he said, letting it be. It was precisely the point, as he saw it. "Of course Scott's going to get people killed. So are you. So am I." Patterns shivered behind his eyes and he shook his head, waiting until his vision cleared. "Unless we don't," he said. Damned potential futures.

"It's de attitude, I guess. Remy don't pretend dat he can run one of de X-teams safely. But for all I know, Wisdom reports right to de Professor and he is on a need to know basis wit' dat Summers." Remy shook his head. "Fuck, I'm tired. Now I'm getting into pissing contests with de line animals."

Nathan snorted more loudly. "Pardon me. Line animal sitting right here..." He shook his head, taking another judicious sip of his beer. "You are tired," he said, staring out at the lake. "And you're used to seeing patterns that aren't properly applicable in the here and now. This is a weird hybrid world we've stumbled into, LeBeau. I don't know about you, but I'm still looking for a roadmap."

"Remy just be happy wit' an atlas at dis point." Remy took a long pull from the can, grimaced and took another. Why did it always have to be Coors Light? "Tell you one thing, don't need to be a pre-cog to know dat something big is coming."

"Several somethings big," Nathan said. "And we won't know which is which, and where we're going, until we're six moves ahead." He stopped, shaking his head. "And I'm sounding like a total lunatic. Sorry. I think it's being back here. I'm getting pings from all directions again, rather than just about Mistra."

"Heard de dark future talk in New Orleans. Between Tante and Marie-Ange, well, lets just say Remy glad his money not in long term stocks, oui?"

"One thing at a time," Nathan muttered, slouching further in his chair. "You probably haven't had the chance to read my report on my week in Spain yet. I managed to wangle my recently liberated friend Tim into joint operational control of MacInnis' organization." He smiled a bit wryly. "And all it took was turning me into a walking 'Conditioning-Be-Gone'. I think I got the better end of that deal."

"Not bad. Mind you, Remy not likely to read any reports. Not allowed on de system." He shrugged. Since he returned, they had removed his access to the student system, and without a role as either an X-Man or a teacher, he had no keys to the other areas. The only information Remy had came from Pete or his own digging.

Nathan blinked. "You should be, I'd think. Want me to ask?"

"In my role as what? De smoking guy?" LeBeau snorted. "You can ask, but I doubt dey say yes. Dat how 'untrustworthy' thing don't sit all dat well."

"You forget. The Professor wants you here. If not being able to get into the database is impairing your ability to do what you're doing..." Nathan stopped, shrugging. "Unless of course that would be a little too close for you. To be that involved." A bit of a jab, but he wanted to see Remy's reaction.

"Don't think I got much choice in dat, homme." Remy looked out over the lake, watching the light chop start in the wind. "Can't run away. Dis place owns me, no matter what. Otherwise, what good am I? I'd just be running around trying to help from de outside."

Nathan gave him a hard look, taking another careful sip of the godawful beer. "All about the redemption for you, is it?"

"More den dat." Remy shotgunned the rest of the beer, paused long enough to duck inside and hook the rest of the six-pack back outside. "Outside of dat, what really do I have, homme? No real family, not de slightest clue how to have friends, a head full of horrors. I guess dat being here at least means dat Remy LeBeau can at least have some value, because dere not much more to me past dat."

"It takes time," Nathan said. "Although I had it easier than you, because at least Mistra unintentionally gave us the ability to bond with other people." Remy looked at him, and Nathan shrugged. "Artificial pack structure," he said. "It was part of the conditioning. I've told you about the two different types of conditioning, right? That's one of the reasons they switched from the first-generation to the second. We wound up too attached to each other. We had more loyalty to one another than we did to the program, and that wasn't entirely to the program's benefit."

"De agencies tend to be jealous. Dat why dey tried to shut you down?"

"At first. Later, that's why they tried so hard to get me back. I was a unique case - had extra conditioning programming me to be the pack leader from about the age of nineteen." Nathan looked out over the lake, slouching further in his chair until his posture was definitely verging on the precarious. "It has its drawbacks. Part of the problem I've had adjusting to being here is the internal dissent - it drives me insane. I literally can't handle it. The conditioning's gone, but the mindset's still there, and the pack is not supposed to tear itself apart from within."

"Because dis no pack." Remy allowed himself a slight smile as he opened another beer. "Do you know why de Agency choose me from de other LOSTBOYS scraps to come into de mansion?"

"No, but I suspect you're going to share."

"Chaos. One of my particular skills was destablizing things. De social bomb. Find a place, totally destablize de relationships inside and let de targets do half de work. Between de personalities, situation, and age ranges, dis place is a damn powderkeg."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Well," he said dryly. "No wonder I can't stand you half the time."

Remy nodded. "And dis is me trying to be nice. I just do it instinctively." He shook his head ruefully. "Which is why I've done so well making friends dese days."

"'You are what we made you to be,'" Nathan murmured. "Used to be what the directors and instructors kept telling us back at Mistra. But the flipside of that is that you can take what you were made to be and make something else out of it," he went on, more briskly. "Look, for me... for all that they didn't let me on the X-Men until I figured out that sometimes you do have to retreat, I know damned well that there are going to be times when they're going to need me as I was. The Spartan. But with different motives... different limits." He stared down at his beer, then took a rather less cautious swallow or two. "You take what they left you and you use it to spit in the face of everything they stood for. That's the only real way out."

He shook his head, smiling faintly. "As for making friends... sort of looks to me like a few people have taken that particular decision out of your hands already."

"Tante Mattie told me once dat de only reason dat Gambit not still living as a slave in her shack on de bayou is because de murderer inside was de one dey built." Remy took another long swallow. "De killer was dere, but not de murderer. If dat make any sense. Dats why she let me go. Life lessons from de crazy voodoo queen."

"As for de rest," Remy paused, turned a sigh into a yawn. "some have. De only problem is dat I don't have de slightest clue how to treat dem. Could give you ten different ways to get intelligence or assets from Lorna, but not de slightest clue how to help her when she's upset, or scared."

"You know how to listen," Nathan pointed out. "You know how to watch people. It's something to build on." He tossed back the rest of the beer, then blinked as his head swam a little. Well, crap. What had happened to his two-beer limit? "Just... don't look at it like it's a world you can't enter. You don't know how to function in it properly, that's true, but that doesn't mean you can't learn."

"Dat's what I keep telling myself. But it takes a while." Remy muttered. "And it's so easy to slip back into de old way of thinking, you know? Everything was easier when de people didn't matter. Dey just... data. Bits of information or part of de scenery."

"Of course it was easier," Nathan said. "Except now they're real people, with hopes and dreams and all that stuff, and so suddenly everything is so much more important. And the price of failure is so much higher." He stopped, hearing the slight slurring to his words and giving the beer a very dubious look. "I hate this," he mutters. "No alcohol tolerance anymore. None at all. Bad joke."

"One Coors Light. How does it feel to know dat Jubilee can drink you under de table?" Remy quipped, opening up his third can.

Nathan gave him a repressive look. "Well, you try living with ghosts from the future in your head, and see how you deal with not being able to drink. Or sleep half the time. Or not wanting to eat for a week at a stretch."

"Homme, Remy got enough ghosts from de past to keep me company for a good long time." Remy toasted him with the silver can. "Guess dat means de bacholar party just going to involve a fondue pot and some gin rummy?"

"Bachelor party?" Nathan asked blankly, then blinked. "Wedding. Crap. Moira was thinking about dates. It was very disturbing. I think she's going to kill me if I don't help her get things planned soon enough that she doesn't look enormous in her wedding dress."

"You could always wait until after de kid is born." Remy pointed out. "It not like you going to be excluded from de country club if you don't get married before."

"No, but then her uncle will kill me. And half the population of northern Scotland will help him. The new La--um, the new Lord or Lady Kinross does not get to be born out of wedlock, apparently."

"Doesn't matter dat she marrying a former internationally feared mercenary wit' a twenty year record of explosive death, just as long as we can all pretend dey didn't have sex before getting de ring." Remy ran his hands through his hair. "Oui, de world getting crazier."

"You have no idea," Nathan said, stressing the last two words very gravely, "just how... frightening it was, to be in a room full of twenty middle-aged Scotswomen, ten of which were plotting my messy death for knocking her up before the wedding, ten of which were sizing me up like a prize stud. Christmas was entertaining." He glanced at his watch and swore. "Shit, I've got to teach in a while. Which means I need to go run around until I'm no longer tipsy." He gave Remy a somewhat crooked smile. "Part of the benefit of the monumentally fucked-up metabolism is that I get drunk fast, but I never get the hangover."

He turned a little more serious. "But you..." He waggled a finger at Remy. "Get some sleep and stop worrying so much. At least while you're sleeping. You can start again when you wake up."

"Vrai. I'm sure dat I'm going to have to talk to de Professor tomorrow, after his favourite little elf takes him de info. Dat is not going to be a fun conversation."

"It need not always end in tears," Nathan said, his accent shifting erratically to full-on Askani before he shook his head, very carefully getting to his feet. "Go to bed, Remy," he said more normally. "I'll see you later."

Remy nodded and disappeared into the house, pausing only long enough to mention his return to the mansion, look puzzledly at his now neatly folded stacks of clothes, and fell into bed.