Post infectia capture, Pete's office

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

After Amanda stitches Remy up, Lorna tracks him down to ensure that he's all right. She feeds him soup and turns down a marriage proposal. She also tries to convince him that he isn't the man he was. He asks her to hold onto some things for him and she is rather perturbed.



Remy shrugged a clean shirt over his head, replacing the torn and bloody one that sat in his waste bin. Fortunately, Xavier seemed to order his promotional materials by the ton, and there were Xavier t-shirts and sweaters all over the school. Amanda had left a little while ago, promising to drop by later with a potion to help him sleep and replace the lost strength. He'd taken to sleeping in the office while the boathouse was being fixed, although his room had been almost entirely untouched.

Tracking anyone down in the mansion was not exactly easy and when the person being tracked was Remy it became exponentially more difficult. Still, Lorna was persistent and had little else to do until the marble countertops were in downstairs so she stalked the Cajun with a fair amount of patience. Pete’s office hadn’t been her first choice but neither was it last on her mental list. She rapped twice on the door then nudged it open. "Anyone home?"

"Non. De people died and now dere only ghosts here." Remy said from his seat, flipping through some pages on the desk. "De big ghosts wit' de dripping claws and dose special effects like in de movies... wit' mind lasers."

"Oh. Well, hmm, do ghosts eat shrimp bisque? I had to use up the seafood before it went bad. Damned kitchen is still a mess." She slipped inside and nudged the door closed behind her. Setting the thermos she was carrying on the desk, Lorna gave Remy a critical once-over and shook her head. "So what the hell happened?"

"Fought evil. Saved de damsel." Remy said, had the grace to look abashed at the look she gave him. "Sorry, chere. Guess dat I'm still a little loopy. Bartlett figured out what was killing McCoy. A femme wit' some strange power. When we went to collect her, she had some protection."

“And kicked your skinny ass, I see.” Lorna shook her head and slid the thermos to him, pulling a bag with a spoon and some bread out of her jacket pocket as well. “Eat.” She circled around the desk and sat on the edge, facing him. “What kind of power? Something that we’re going to have to worry about affecting the brats?” Not that she thought he’d have brought someone like that here but it never hurt to ask.

"Non. She not going to have de chance. Not dat she would anyhow." Remy poured the thermos into the plastic lid, sniffing appreciatively at the aromatic steam rising from it. "For some reason, she's a bit scared of me. Thinks dat I might do horrible things to her if she even looks crosseyed at someone. Can't 'magine where she got dat idea."

“Did you tell her that you’d do horrible things to her if she even looked at someone cross-eyed? Because I bet that’d do it.” Lorna raised an eyebrow at him, a half-smile tugging at her mouth.

"Only a little." Remy smiled. "Heard dat she was able to reverse what was happening with bete bleu down dere. So, least one good thing came out of it."

The half-smile became a real smile. "Hank’s okay? Thank god. What’s going to happen to her? We aren’t going to keep her here, right?"

"Think dat Bartlett's going to turn her over to de Feds. Guess she got a whole host of crimes t' answer for. So, she gets an overnight." Remy sipped the soup. "Dat's why I'm not asleep on de couch right now. Want to make sure dat she's not tied in somehow wit all dis Hellfire stuff."

Lorna nodded, linking her hands loosely in her lap. "Is that really why you’re not asleep?" she asked mildly. Someone had patched him up physically which was good. Still, she wasn’t really worried about his physical condition anyway. Her friend wasn’t fragile in body. But his spirit needed some work. She’d accept his answer either way, something she knew he was well aware of but she wanted to make sure that he was okay.

"You know, chere, eventually Remy going to have to find out how to be cool and mysterious to you." Remy smiled, working his way through the soup. "Part of making her talk involved getting a little to close to who I was. Guess dat I'm worried dat one day dat might be too easy to act like."

“You’re nothing like an open book, if it helps,” Lorna responded and relaxed the tension in her shoulders that she hadn’t realized she was holding. “But I know this much--you’re not who you were. Could you have gotten her back here any other way?”

"Don't know. Never thought to try." Remy smirked. "Dere's de damning statement right dere, isn't it, Lorna?" He tried to keep his tone as light as possible. Unloading on poor Amanda had been bad enough. The last thing he wanted was Lorna thinking he was a monster, especially after her decisions.

Lorna rolled her shoulder, dismissing the excuse. “Think about it now. Could you have done something else? And did you go farther than you needed to?” She didn’t bother to disguise her worry that the answers would be yes. He’d read it even if she did and she thought more of him than even that much prevarication.

"Non. I didn't enjoy it." Remy shook his head. "It used to be easy when it was fun for me." He looked into Lorna's eyes, and was relieved to see no trace of revulsion. If she ever decided that he was as bad as he feared....

“Then you’re not him. And you don’t want to be which is more important.” She reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder, fingers just brushing at his neck. “It takes time to change even when you know you have to. You’re trying and sometimes you’re going to slip. That’s just how it works.” The absurdity of applying her own struggles to his made her smile though it wasn’t funny. “So long as you keep wanting to get out, you’re doing okay.”

"De problem is dat Remy not entirely not Gambit, and viceversa. Guess dat it's hard to understand where de lines are drawn at times." Remy reached up and laid his hand over hers, squeezing it lightly. "One thing dat I do know, chere, is dat you wouldn't have any time for Gambit. Dat's de best indication."

Lorna smiled and this time did try to hide her unease with apparently being the barometer by which he determined ethics. “I’ll be here. You’ll have to draw the lines yourself, keep what’s good but I’ll be here. Promise.”

"You know something, chere? You one of de things dat kept me together when dey tried to bring Gambit back. One of de few people dat didn't just think dat I was just trash. Remy not about to forget dat." LeBeau said seriously, looking at her. "De Professor offered me a job."

She turned her hand to meet his, gripping it tightly. “You were there for me when I had no one else to go to. Everyone else can say what they want. I know that you were there and you didn’t have to be. I’m not going to forget that either.” Lorna blinked rapidly, her green eyes bright and damp. “What does the Prof want?”

"Pete's. Guess dat makes me de new head of Intelligence in de mansion." Remy squeezed her hand again and grinned. " Think dat Remy need buy a tuxedo or something? Use one of dem English accents?"

“Either that or you’re now a really indifferent student counsellor. Which requires less English accent and general exasperation at the mansion as a whole, judging by the previous counsellors.” Lorna grinned, grateful to have the chance to get over her near-tears. “I think what you really need is a cool code name. Can we call you Mother?”

"Non. You can call me Gambit." Remy said, shaking his head. "Figured dat if de name is dere, I should do something wit' it. Besides, wit' Wisdom gone, we got a lot of things to deal wit' now. Any edge helps."

Lorna regarded him solemnly, “Are you really okay with that? You don’t have to use it. It’s not worth the edge if it hurts you.”

"Like I said, chere. It time for me to stop running away if I'm going to ever deal wit' my past." Remy shook his head.

“It’s not running to shed something that doesn’t fit right,” she countered then sighed. “I don’t want you to keep anything that is going to hurt you. I don’t like my friends hurting.”

"Going to have to deal wit' it sometime." Remy said. "'sides, got lots of people trying to keep me honest. If I go evil, just cut off de food service. Dat's a stiff punishment for anyone."

Lorna rolled her eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind. Next fight, I’ll just threaten to withhold baked goods.” She moved off the desk and gave him a gentle hug, careful not to press on his cuts and bruises but holding on for a long time nevertheless.

Remy let himself put his face in her hair, trying to hold back the shudders. The truth was that he'd gone too close to his old life, and resented being asked to be in that position. But there was no one to talk to about that who would understand it. But Lorna's unjudgemental comfort helped. "Merci, chere. Sure you dat you want turn down Remy's marriage proposal?"

She eased back to smile at him, only enough to look him in the face. “Sorry, but my dad just got used to the idea of Alex. I can’t change up on him now. It’s not good for his heart.”

"You sure. Bet dat I can clean up nice." Remy said, the crooked grin he used so often on his face.

“Yes, you’re very pretty. But I have this pesky detail with being madly in love with my boyfriend. I know, it’s just a small thing but I’m a detail person.” She kissed his cheek affectionately. “You’ll just have to keep looking for someone else to do all your cooking.”

“Remy wasn't hoping on just de cooking, chere." He grinned, finally lightening the mood. "Guess den I going to have to find someone else. Dis is de sound of remy's heart breaking, you know."

She laughed, “We’ll put out a personal ad. Scruffy ne’er do well seeks mate for European vacations while dodging bullets.”

"Dere going to be a whole line for dat." Remy laughed. "You going to help vet de resumes?"

“Of course. You don’t think I’d let just anyone have you, do you? I’m going to be very exacting.” Lorna tapped her finger against her lower lip, pretending to be deep in thought, “Do you suppose it would be too much to ask for a blood sample with each application?”

"Long as dey don't get de sample from shooting me, it works. Seems dat femmes are more violent dese days." Remy said. "Must be getting old. Don't know if I can keep up anymore."

“I was thinking blood samples from them. Along with the complete background check, that should give us enough for me to begin the interview process.” She grinned. “Any special requests?”

"Guess dat Angelina Jolie might be off de list?" Remy grinned wickedly. "Or maybe Remy stay in de superhero world. Guess dat I missed my relationship assignment when I got back to de mansion."

“It was a lottery actually.” Lorna explained mock-seriously, “We all drew a number and got whoever had the matching one. You think Rogue and Logan work any other way?”

Remy made a face, still chuckling. "Never did understand dat one. I mean, wasn't he about seventy or eighty years too old for her? Still, not dat many options dese days. Dere's Bartlett, but Remy like to wake up wit' de same number of bits dat I went to sleep with, you know?"

“I didn’t want to know and I didn’t ask. Some things are better left a mystery.” Lorna shrugged and sat back on the desk again, “I think Maddy is pretty much caught between two blue choices so she’s out anyway. Ororo is single though.” She managed to keep a straight face at that suggestion.

"Why do I get de feeling dat its not likely an option." Remy said wryly. "You know, dis was easier when I thought I was a teenager. Now, those relationships get a touch trickier."

Lorna snickered, “Are any of the teens even single? Terry is, I guess but I don’t think anyone else is single. Hmm, maybe Jubilee, I’m not sure.” It was odd now that she thought about it. The mansion did seem to tend towards happily paired couples. “Maybe it’s something in the water.”

"Must be de Professor. Dress dem in black leather, mess wit' dere heads to make dem fall in love. It's like a hippy commune from de 60s." Remy whispered conspiratorally. "De LSD in de water cooler is 'specially good dis month."

“Is that what the leather is about? Hmm, I hope the modifications I made don’t interfere with the nefarious plan.” She giggled, “The LSD is why I only drink filtered water and coffee. Cuts down on the hippy vibe.”

"Maybe it's his whole homemade reality show. He secretly watches all de monitors all de time to see what's going on dis week." Remy grinned. "Just wait 'til sweeps week."

“Monitors? He’s a telepath, what makes you think he need monitors. It’s gotta be like HBO in his head.” Lorna mimed turning a dial on her temple.

"'cept for de people dat are more like de Playboy channel." Remy said, fake wistfully. "You know, dere is something to be said for de single life. Least de only one dat has to put up wit' my work habits is me."

“Right, sure. Except for yours truly who worries that you’re out getting yourself shot or something.” She shook her head. “Sorry but you don’t live in a bubble and even without an S.O. you’ve got people who worry.”

"Chere, de last thing I want to do is get shot. But dat's part of de job sometimes." Remy shook his head. "One of de things dat I've been trying to come to grips with over the last six months is who Remy LeBeau actually is. My suspecion is dat he not a nice man. Not a bad man, but not a nice one either. Which is fine, because if I'm the one who has to go out and get dirty, it means dat someone like you or one of de X-Men doesn't. Dey can be heroes. Not really redemption, but after my past, I think it's the best I can hope for. At least right now."

“I think you’re selling yourself short, Remy LeBeau. I don’t believe that heroes are saints and I don’t think redemption is out of anyone’s reach. Including yours.” Lorna leaned forward, her elbow balanced her crossed legs. “Pragmatism and efficiency have their place but you don’t have to sacrifice your soul for them anymore. You have every right to change your life. Don’t let what used to be cloud what you can be.”

"De question of course is who that person is. I guess dat I need to figure out who I am, get comfortable wit' dat. Den, I can start to change towards who I want to be." Remy smiled. "Because otherwise, it's an act. And I've been playing other roles for too long now. Dat and it gives me an excuse to sneak around in a long coat looking cool."

“Well, by all means do what’s fashionable.” Lorna smirked and straightened again, not at all convinced he was taking her seriously but willing to be patient about it. “It’s always a good decision while you’re sorting out who you are.”

"Guess so. Look, Lorna, I need you to do something for me." Remy leaned back behind him and pulled out a large manila envelope, stuffed bulging and tightly sealed. "Can you keep dis somewhere safe for the next few weeks? If I happen to disappear and not come back by de 31st, you open dat, alright?"

She took it, looking alarmed, “What is it?”

"Dere's information in dere dat people need. Some other things. You'll know what to do wit' it." Remy said, noting the expression on her face. "Dis is not Remy being melodramatic, chere. I'm not planning anything stupid. Its just dat dere a lot of things dat could go wrong in de next few weeks, and if by the odd chance dat I don't get clear of a bad situation, some of dat information could help protect de mansion."

“If I have to open this, I’m going to be really unhappy with you. Just so you know.” She laid the envelope on her lap, spread her hands over it protectively. “I’m counting on you to not let something go wrong and stay out of situations where you think you’re the one who has to take care of something alone.”

"If I can avoid trouble, I will, chere. Dis is just a safety precaution in case of some very bad luck." Remy tried to reassure her. "Hell, could be a plane crash dat gets me. It's just wit' Pete gone, I'm 'bout de only one here who has de experience to put his files together. If anything happens to me, well, it's important dat de school has access to some of dat information."

“Yeah, see there are these things called backups? We have them on important data. Encrypted sure but redundancies are the hallmark of the computer age. None of this ‘open it if I don’t return’ melodrama that causes me stress.” Lorna wasn’t reassured and it showed.

"It's not just intelligence in dere, Lorna. Some things 'bout me. Remy trust you to hold on to it, keep it private." Remy said quietly. "I know it's a lot to just drop in your lap, but you de one person dat I trust totally here. Besides, in three weeks, Remy pick dat up from you, take you out to dinner to say merci. Sound fair?"

Lorna sighed and looked down at the envelope. “How did that happen? I’m not anything special, why would you trust me instead of absolutely anyone else?” The question was quiet, almost to herself. She met his eyes, “Three weeks. I’m holding you to that.”

"Agreed. Trust me, you a far prettier reason to come home for den Cain." Remy said, holding her look. "And chere, you de first person since long as I can remember dat believes in me. Dat makes you pretty damn special to me."

She smiled and glanced away as she reddened slightly. “You’re worth believing in. I had…” She stopped and shook her head. “I have to go. The kitchen needs work and a hundred details to cover if we’re all going to eat this week.

"True. I should get some of dis done as well. De next few weeks are going to be exciting in here." Remy picked up a stack of papers and moved them aside to collect the lunch things that Lorna had brought him. "Least dis office have a couch."

"And you should take advantage of that soon. Preferably before you work yourself into mush." She took the soup back from him and gave him a one-armed hug. "Sleep first, then work. It’s a time honoured tradition."

"Remy keep dat in mind, chere. You go have fun wit' your new toys." Remy grinned and turned back to his papers.

Lorna rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "Sleep!" she called over her shoulder before letting herself out.