xp_logs | Log: Remy/Amanda

Amanda heads upstairs to make sure Remy's okay. Considering that statement and the people involved, it takes a long talk to even start figuring out the damage.

"Merde." Remy hissed as he poked the needle through
his flesh. The gash in his shoulder was deep, but
narrow. While he could get one of the students to help
him out, the aftermath of the mission with Infectia
had made him wary of seeking anyone out. Even for the
right reasons, revisiting Gambit always brought the
roil of guilt and shame from his memories.

Amanda had been helping Moira with something in medlab
when the ruckus started, and Bartlet's mutterings
about stupid macho Cajun smartasses who thought they
knew better than trained doctors had set off alarms.
As Moira went to help with Hank, she'd slipped
upstairs, grabbing one of the first aid kits as she
went. It wasn't hard to follow the odd spatters of
blood to Pete's office. "Remy?" she called, poking her
head around the part-open door. "Are you... Bloody
hell, you're a fuckin' mess."

"Guess dats why de femmes keep turning me down." Remy
said from his perch on the couch. The hall first aid
kit was spread out beside him, and he'd discarded his
torn jacket and shirt into the bin. While his hands
and face were covered in small cuts, he'd already
disinfected and bandaged the worst of those. It was
the upper arm that was giving him trouble.

Amanda snorted and came in without invitation, closing
the door properly behind her. She set aside the kit
she'd brought and flicked the desk lamp on,
positioning it so it shone on him more fully. "Let me
help," she said briskly, approaching him. "You're
makin' a right balls-up of it."

"De last time I had to sew myself up was in Prague,
'bout seven years ago. Remy think he been doing well
for being dat out of practice." He sighed and put the
thread back down. He could argue with Amanda, but it
would end up her doing in any case. Besides, any
distraction was likely a good thing for her at this
point.

"Well, it'd be easier if it were in a different place,
but 's hard t' stitch yerself there," Amanda allowed,
picking up the needle and thread with a small hint of
triumph. Someone letting her help, hah. And no mention
of healing spells. "What the hell did you do? Looks
like someone threw you through a window."

"Non. Nothing like dat." Remy shook his head. "It was
a mirror. One of dose big ones wit' de gilt edges."
His entire body ached from the fight, and some
spectacular bruises were starting to bloom along his
shoulders and back.

"One of the hazards of fightin' in a fancy place,
those gilt mirrors," she murmured with a brief grin,
setting to work. He flinched as she held the gaping
edges of the cut together, preparing to stitch them
together. "I haven't even started yet, you big baby,"
she admonished him gently.

"How 'bout next time, you get cut up and Remy can make
all de comments, neh?" Remy said, and hissed as she
dabbled the disinfectant into the wound. "Ow!"

"If it was me, I wouldn't be whinin' this much.
Thought you were supposed t' be this big tough bloke?"
she said, setting the first stitch after disinfecting
the area. "Hope it was in a good cause, at least? Or
did you try an' pull someone's wife or somethin'?"

"Non. Found de person dat had infected de bete bleu.
Dat Bartlett got her down in de medlab now, getting
her to reverse de process." Remy winced as she tugged
at the string. "Is it supposed to be dat tight?"

"If I make it any looser, you'll scar," the girl told
him. "And not the sexy sort - it'll be all lumpy. So
McCoy'll be all right? That's great news." He couldn't
see her face, but she was smiling - as much as they'd
had their differences, watching Hank's gradual
deterioration had been awful. And she knew how it had
been upsetting Paige and Forge and Kitty to see it
too.

"Oui. 'nother win for de home team. You get de hot
dogs and Remy buy de cotton candy. Get dat Paige and
Forge riding de bumper cars." Remy said sourly. He
wasn't any less pleased with the fact that Hank would
recover, but the way he had to do it still rankled,
staining any good mood.

She raised her eyebrows at the tone, not sure why he
was sounding so bitter, but guessing it possibly
hadn't been a simple matter of going in and asking
nicely. "Well, apart from the fact he's not gunna die
any more, I know a lot of people who'll be glad t' see
him back t' his old self. He's important to a lot of
folks." She tied off another stitch, and began
another. "Nearly done - a couple more an' you should
be right."

"Bein. Dere's still too much to do." Remy avoiding
wincing at the pull this time, but only barely.
Besides, Amanda had enough to deal with without his
own issues coming on top of them. He took a deep
mental breath and switched gears. "You, uh, started
settling back in?"

"'S one way of puttin' it," she said wryly, finishing
another stitch. One more. "I wanted t'... well, thank
you, I s'pose. For bein' straight with me."

"You deserved it. Dere's enough shit going on without
adding lies on de top. Besides, Remy hasn't given Nate
a reason to yell at him in, like, hours." Remy said
with a crocked smile. He rotated his shoulder, flexing
the muscle slightly against the stitching to test his
mobility.

She watched him test out her work, hoping she'd done a
decent job. "It meant a lot, that you bothered, I
mean. People here... they're all 'bout us actin' like
adults, but then they're always treatin' us like kids.
An' Pete..." She swallowed. "Pete never did that."

"Non, he didn't. Mind you," Remy leaned back on the
couch, the smile growing a touch wicked. "Considering
dat half de time both de students and de teachers act
like dey four years old, it might be fair. Dat
includes Remy too."

She perched on the couch's arm, body language relaxing
visibly. There was still a shadow in her eyes, but she
wasn't as visibly broken as before. "Yeah, true." She
tilted her head at him. "How's the shoulder?"

"Feels like a super-strong thug rammed a five inch
glass spike into it." Remy said truthfully, wincing a
bit. The wound in the deltoid hurt with every
movement, and one of the side effects of his powers
was that he didn't stay still very often. LeBeau
willing himself to relax, trying to calm down and drop
into the boneless waiting state that was so essential
a part of his job.

"I've got a potion that might help, a sort of
painkiller..." Amanda offered. She gave him a slight
smile. "If you need it."

"Non. 'preciate de offer, but de pain helps me think."
Remy grinned. "Reminds me dat femmes not to be
trusted, 'specially de ones dat try and kiss you
without asking for dinner first."

"I'll make sure I always ask for dinner first then,
yeah?" she replied, and then blushed a bit. "I didn't
mean... Ah, I probably should..." She gestured vaguely
doorwards, but didn't immediately get up.

"'less you got de power to break an homme down wit'
one kiss, Remy trust you." Remy said, sidestepping her
comment that caused her to blush furiously. Old habits
die hard, he guessed. "Wait, Remy forget. All damn
women have dat power!" He mock-shouted.

She laughed outright at that. "An' yet you still hang
around us," she teased.

"Dey do have other things dat make up for it." Remy
considered some of his less favourite people in the
mansion. "Well, some of dem do."

She shrugged a little. "That works for everyone, don't
it? Some you get on with, some you don't. Some you
try, an' then they go an' do stupid things an' make
you feel like shite..." She cut herself there, looking
around for a different subject. And there it was
sitting on the couch not wearing a shirt. "Remy, mind
if I ask somethin'?"

"Only if it doesn't involve me having to get up, move,
or perform any otherwise useful task for at least de
next hour." Remy let his head loll back on the edge of
the couch, enjoying the feel of his bruised muscles
relaxing around the hot slashes of pain.

"The scars you've got... " She nodded at the lines
marking his chest and shoulders. "Where'd they come
from?"

"Doctors. A whole mess of dem." Remy closed his eyes,
seeing the blurring of the figures around the
operating table in his memories. "Guess I was about
thirteen or so. De opened me up, replaced de muscles
wit' special ones, laced my bones wit' plastic. Gave
me two of de three names dat I have."

"I'm sorry," Amanda said. "Didn't mean t' bring up bad
memories..." She shrugged a little. "There's any
number of bastards in the world."

"Non, it's a fair question. Guess dat you probably
figured out dat Remy LeBeau not my real name."

"Not any more 'n 'Amanda Sefton' is mine," she said
with a small grin. Leaning forward, she propped her
elbows on her knees and leaned her chin on her hands.
"You don't remember yer real name?"

"Not at all. On de street, was too young to remember
needing one. After Henri starting whoring me out, he
called me Young LeBeau. Guess dat has his version of
advertising." Remy's eyes were still closed, the
memories fractaling around the throbs of pain behind
his eyelids. "When dey pulled me into de program, dere
was dis British doctor who did de initial tests on me;
had a bottle of cognac behind his desk. Remy it
called." The crocked smiled was still on his face, but
it had tightened somewhat. "De femmes like dat more
den 713 though."

This was more than he'd ever told her, more than she
was willing to bet he'd told anyone... "Rom gave me
mine. When she got me away from Rack. Woke up in the
hospital with everyone callin' me Amanda, an' knew
enough not t' say they were wrong. 'Sides, it was
better than Rack callin' me 'blossom' when he wasn't
usin' me real name t' make me do what he wanted." On
impulse, she reached over and briefly touched his
shoulder, careful to avoid the cuts. "She said t' me
once, names're what you make 'em."

"Hope dat's de case, because Remy just took Gambit's
back." He turned and opened his eyes, finally meeting
hers. "Tired of running away, chere. Tired of being
here when dey need a monster. Remy not Gambit, but dat
don't mean dat I'm de exact opposite either. You told
me off de last time I tried dat angle."

She gave him a slightly abashed grin. "Yeah, sorry
'bout that. Got a mouth on me sometimes. But that
isn't t' say Remy don't have his redeemin' qualities.
I've seen you, runnin' yerself into the ground, tryin'
t' fix this mess with Pete, savin' people's arses...
That's not a monster."

"Maybe not, but sometimes dat's what Remy have to be
to help people. Hell, dat Bartlet hauled me along to
deal wit' dat femme because she knew dat if it came
down to it, Remy would do horrible things to her.
Things dat Bartlet couldn't. What does dat say 'bout
me, chere?" Remy shook his head. "I know dat I'm not a
monster, but having to revisit it worries me a little.
Dat maybe one day playing de role, it starts coming
too easy."

Amanda spread her hands in a helpless gesture. "I
don't know, Remy. Fuck, half the time 'm afraid that's
what I'll be, a monster like Rack. I've got people
tellin' me all the time that's what I could be, if I'm
not careful. I think, as long as it worries you, an'
yer aware of it, then the choice is still up t' you."

"Well, if not, least dere's always dat career as a
scoundrel to fall back on. Wonder if dat includes
dental?" Remy said, abruptly switching tracks again.
The last thing Amanda needed was him dumping his
problems on her. "Or maybe a model. Dat Bartlett,
'tween sucking lemons and surgically removing de last
bits of her sense of humour, was eying me, Remy
think."

"Dream on, Remy," Amanda said with a snicker, fully
aware he was switching topics on her on purpose, but
happy to let him do that. Some subjects were just too
big, especially now. "You're not exactly on her
favourite people list, an' there are limit's t' even
yer personal charm."

"Dat wasn't my charm she had her eyes on, femme.
Besides, dere's dat whole, what, sexual magnetism. De
hating me like cancer? Remy bet you ten it just a
front." Remy jibbed, laughing. "But I'm not sure you
old 'nough to hear 'bout dese things." He said,
deliberately poking at her earlier comments on being
treated like a child.

She snorted, reaching down for a wad of cotton wool
from the first aid kit, still spread on on the couch
between them, and tossed it at his head. "If I'm old
enough t' do 'em, 'm old enough t' hear 'bout 'em,"
she replied with a grin. "An' you're still dreamin'.
Bartlet likes her men blue, or so the talk is."

"If Remy dreaming 'bout Bartlett, you better give me
dose potions. Will need dreamless sleep to prevent
Remy killing himself to avoid it." He moved
fractionally and the wool zipped passed him, just
missing his ear. "Let's just say dat de idea of cops
not high on Remy's fetish list, you know?"

"Yeah, not exactly one of mine, either..." she
replied, wrinkling her nose. "Somethin' 'bout havin'
'em kickin' you in the ribs t' get you t' move on
turns you right off."

"You lucky. Dey didn't collect de freebies from you."
Remy said, a hint of darkness to his tone. "Going to
have to get a new jacket now. Can't be a suspicious
bastards without de proper jacket."

"Can't lurk proper without it," Amanda agreed,
wrinkling her nose at the bloody wad of material in
the trash. That lead to the spots of blood on the
floor. "An' I should get that cleaned up, sanitary
like. Save Moira the trouble."

"You don' have to be Remy's maid. I'll get it cleaned
up." Remy paused. "Unless of course you wear de little
outfit wit' de stockings."

"You're a very bad man, Remy," Amanda told him with a
snicker, getting up from her perch. "I'm a medlab
helper, 's part of the job. I'll sort it. You get some
rest - you look all in."

"Soon. Dere's some thing's dat Remy needs to go over.
Make sure dat our little friend in de basement isn't
tied into something larger and needs more motivation
to talk about it." Amanda gave him a look and he
laughed, putting up his hands. "Oui, I will get some
sleep afterwards. You can even drop off one of dose
horrible potions dat taste like herbal tea filtered
through Cain's workpants if you want later. Deal?"

"Deal," she said with a smile, before gathering up the
first aid kit and heading for the door.

"'manda." Remy got up from the couch, rummaging around
the office for a shirt. "Merci, chere."

She paused, hand on the doorknob. "You're welcome,"
she said, and then left to go get the biohazard kit.