xp_logs | Amanda, Remy - Saturday night

Meggan's spending the night with Kurt, and Amanda finds herself at a loose end. Until she's kidnapped by an apparently insane Cajun.

It was odd, not having Meggan around, but it had been suggested by several more child-savvy people than Amanda that the best way to begin teaching her to sleep without her Manda would be perhaps to get her used to other people. Which meant leaving her Kurt for the evening. Besides, there were several close eyes being kept on the pair, and the general opinion was that Amanda needed the break. Especially considering recent meltdowns and the ongoing situation with Manuel. Not to mention the conversation with Alex, although not everyone knew about that.

She was sitting in the student rec room, unsure exactly of what to do with all this sudden free time and trying not to think too much. The television held little interest, and she wasn't much of a reader. Perhaps she could hunt up Angelo for a smoke and a talk...?

The hand that clamped over her mouth wasn't almost as unsettling as the sudden appearance of LeBeau's face beside her, his weird red and black eyes wild.

"Careful chere, or dey put de fucking leeches to you." He rasped, and she squeaked in shock as he picked her off the couch and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She bounced as he took off in a run towards the motor pool. "Dey never suspect we cheating dem, because Remy papered his wall wit' tinfoil. Dat's de secret. Made you underwear out of tinfoil to be safe." He said as they sped through the halls, and out the front door where she was unceremoniously dumped into the back seat of one of the convertibles. Remy leaned into the front seat over her, and the gunned the engine. "Best to think 'bout numbers and poker games. Dey hate poker, 'cause dey unAmerican." The car roared to life and shot through the gates to the highway.

"What the...?" Amanda managed to recover from the shock long enough to find words again, still trying to follow Remy's stream of apparent nonsense. She struggled upright, holding onto the back of the seat in front of her to try and avoid being flung out. "Have you gone completely barkin' mad?" she asked as they merged onto the highway at something close to breakneck speed.

"Leeches!" Remy screamed as the sideslipped a speeding 18-wheeler with less than three inches to spare. He wrestled the car into a more even run on the inside lane and settled back. "Dat's better."

Amanda swallowed in an effort to get her heart out of her throat where it had lodged itself, and opened her mouth to demand what the fuck was going on, and then she realised. "The 'paths, right? You were puttin' the 'paths off the scent?" Then she frowned. "Um, why? What're you plannin'? Got some job you need me for?"

"Dat's right. Important job. If de Professor ever found out, we share de same unmarked grave." Remy said with deadly earnest, manhandling the car mercilessly, weaving through traffic like it was standing still. "Likely neither of us walk 'way from dis."

"Well, do I get t' hear what this job is, or do I get thrown in the deep end? 'M not up for bein' anyone's punchin' bag, just lettin' you know," Amanda replied a tad waspishly. She didn't like being disoriented, and this entire episode was that and a half.

"Do you believe in God, 'manda?" Remy said, winning the top spot in 'lines Amanda never thought Remy would say'. "Think 'bout it all de time. Like is there a real point to living, when you could be an assassin for Christ in Heaven. It bothers me." The car swerved unsteadily on the road. "Like if I crash or something, I'll have all de answers right away. What do you think?" The same crazed look pinoned her to her seat, him seeming to totally ignore the road. "Do you want de answers right now too?"

"No, I fuckin' well don't!" she snapped, wondering if the shielding spell would be enough to protect her when they crashed. No ifs - the way Remy was, she wouldn't be surprised if he decided to play chicken with a lorry. "'M only eighteen, for fuck's sake, there's no way I'm wantin' any fuckin' answers I can only have when I'm dead. Kill yerself if that's what you want, but leave me the hell out of it, all right?"

"'manda, Remy pray for you." He said with finality, and she had time for one scream as he wrenched the car around into a screaming flat sideways slide. The reek of burning tires and the shriek of the wheels almost overpowered her scream as they went sideways at over sixty, spinning into a carpark. The car hurtled towards a set of parked cars, finally coming to halt less than two feet from a parked Olds, perfectly parallel in the parking spot. Amanda fought to keep her heart in the right place before she noticed Remy laughing with his head on the steering wheel.

Okay, that was it - he'd finally lost his mind. Clambering over the seat with scant regard for the upholstery, she plopped herself into the passenger seat and poked him. Hard. With the shielding spell prepared, just in case. "You've fuckin' lost yer marbles, you know that, right?"

"Sorry chere. Couldn't resist." Remy said, finally controlling his laughter. "You been so serious dat I just had to fuck wit' it. I know, Remy a bad man."

"Y'know, most people'd just talk t' me 'bout it, or suggest goin' out an' doin' somethin' fun," she grumped, crossing her arms over her chest with just a hint of a pout. She hated being laughed at, and Remy always seemed to be doing that. "So, besides scarin' the fuck out of me, was there anythin' else you wanted?"

"Yes. Get out of the car." Remy simply hopped out, his unnatural agility granting him that bizarre grace in motion. Amanda stumbled out behind him, and caught sight of the sign. It was a nightclub, lit garishly in a manner that suggested money and exclusivity.

"I am so not gunna pass the dress code," Amanda muttered to herself, following Remy as he strode towards the doors. She looked down at her jeans and Ramones t-shirt - clean, but certainly not spiffy enough for somewhere like this. And glamours took time. She figured Remy had a contact to meet or something, although for the life of her she couldn't figure out what she was doing there.

"Oh. Right." Remy paused and walked back to the car. Amanda tagged along with him as he opened the truck and tossed her knapsack at her. "Grabbed you some clothes too. Picked de lock. Figured you'd mind and be all pissed 'bout it, and decided I didn't care."

"Have fun fondlin' me underwear?" she asked, still irritated but coming 'round to the idea that tonight would not be spent sitting in front of the telly or studying whatever spell book she was most behind on. Looking into her bag, she rolled her eyes a little. Of course he'd go for the red leather outfit Romany had given her. There were a couple of vans parked nearby - they'd do as cover while she changed. "Keep an eye out," she instructed him, ducking into the shadow cast by the vans. "An' no peekin'."

"Dat's what de webcam is for. And Remy only tried on a couple of pieces. Like de sporty black number." He said with such apparent conviction that a very atypical giggle escaped her as she changed.

"If you've stretched it, it's yers," she told him, pulling her jeans off underneath the miniskirt. A complicated operation, given she had the Docs on as well - luckily she was used to changing clothes in strange places. She quickly yanked off her shirt, back to Le Beau. If he peeked, he'd see the network of scars still there. "Can you help with the zip on this thing?" she asked, the halter top held in place but the back still separated.

"You think I choose dat top by accident." He said with a grin. His touch was featherlight as he did up the zipper, the tops of his fingers just skimming over her flesh.

"You never do anythin' by accident," she told him, actually grinning this time. Turning to face him, she struck a pose, the halter revealing the tattoos she'd gotten with Domino in Berlin and those remaining symbols and words she'd decided to keep from the binding spell. "How do I look? Legal?"

"Legal is not ever a term I'd use to describe you, 'manda." Remy said. "More... bewitching." He said, punning her own life as they turned from the hidden spot between the vans.

Amanda rolled her eyes at the pun, stuffing her clothes in her bag and tossing it into the trunk of the car as they passed it again. Somehow the act of changing her clothes had vastly improved her mood - she'd been little miss stay-at-home for months it felt like. Every time she'd planned a night out, there'd been another disaster, it seemed. One needing her healing magicks. "So, what's on the agenda?" she asked as they approached the doors again. "You meetin' someone here, or is this actually what it looks like an' you kidnappin' me for a bit of fun?"

"Kidnapping. Yesterday Cain made me feel old." Remy waved to the bouncers who waved him through without a word. "Dat means I am going to indulge a totally immature need to be eighteen again. Like I was, oh, six months ago. You, on the other hand, need a break, and are not likely to listen when someone tells you. Hence de madness and lunacy."

"No, I wouldn't... actually, yeah, you're right," Amanda admitted, uncharacteristically. She was admitting a lot of things, these days. "An' I never said this, but yeah, I needed the break. Between tryin' t' show everyone I can take care of Meggan like I promised I would, an' Manuel..." The thought of Manuel only made her irritable again, and she pushed it away. "Well, yeah, gettin' away from the place was a bloody brilliant idea." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I'm still mad at you for scarin' the fuck out of me like that, but... thanks."

"Dat's what I'm here for. Plus, de look on your face when I mentioned God..." Remy chuckled as they walked inside. The club was not yet full, still streaming in punters, but it was every bit as upscale as the parking lot suggested. Throbbing jungle beats from the speakers, a major label signed DJ putting in a guest spot at the tables. Remy headed for the bar, and Amanda found herself in tow behind him.

"Yeah, that one threw me," she said, holding on tightly to the hand gripping hers - what crowd there was centered on the bar, and the skirt tended to restrict her mobility a tad. At least Remy had left behind the high-heeled shoes Marie-Ange had gotten her to buy to go with it. "Tho' with you, who knows what's goin' on in that head of yers. An' if you're buyin', mine's a vodka."

"De bar is open." Remy nodded and waved over a bartender. He took Remy's appearance with some reserve, and his credit card with a look that was normally associated with sex, finally appearing with a pair of glasses. "So, a toast?"

"You know, I can't think of a single bloody thing t' drink to? Except maybe..." She raised the glass set in front of her. "T' theraputic kidnappin'. An' not actin' yer age."

"Better den Elvis." Remy said cryptically and drained his glass. "So. before we start making dem locals jealous, how are you doing?"

Amanda set her empty glass down on the bar, where the bartender reappeared to refill them. "All right, I s'pose. 'S good t' see Meg doin' so well an' all, but not everyone's glad t' see me." The most prominent of those being Manuel. "Leavin' the way I did upset a few people." She shrugged. "They'll get over it, or they won't. 'M not thinkin' 'bout that tonight."

"And other people not really de question. How are you doing?" He said so pointedly that she caught the sting of his normal no-bullshit tone.

"It hurts," she said quietly. "Thought we had more than that, that he'd understand why I couldn't stay an' watch him mourn that cunt. An' he hates me now, I can feel it through the link. So I've lost Pete an' Manuel t' this business, an' it hurts." Her nervous fingers were shredding a coaster left into fragments, and she looked around for that refill. One addiction for another. "But I'm dealin' with it, best I can. Helps that I've got someone else t' think 'bout - I can't afford t' fall in a heap, not with Meggan needin' me."

"Dat's not good enough, 'manda." Remy's tone was soft, but the conviction behind it was almost visible. "Living for anyone, even dis Meggan just 'nother way of running. You need to find the strength to live for yourself for once."

"I know," she said, eyes downcast, focussing on the coaster she was rapidly destroying. "But right now, 's the best I can do." She glanced up at him, giving him a crooked half-smile. "Spent all me life thinkin' of meself as only valuable for what I could do for other people - 's a hard bloody habit t' shake."

"Amen to dat." Remy nodded. "Look, 'manda, dere's going to be a lot of things going down soon. Some I know 'bout, some dat I can feel are waiting for us." Remy reached into his pocket and dropped an envelope on the table in front of her. "Dere was something dat Tante told me, while we were down in New Orleans. Somehow, you, me and Marie-Ange are connected. I know, sound like crazy bogwitch nonsense, but Tante is right a little to often."

She picked up the envelope, turning it over in her hands but not opening it yet. There was a certain truth to his words - there was a connection there. The way her and Marie-Ange's powers intersected, for one. The fact Remy had been the only one able to go near Marie-Ange when her powers were overloading, for another. And lastly, this friendship between herself and Remy, the fact she'd been unable to cast him off entirely even after the things he'd said and done. "Maybe not so crazy," she said at last. "There's... patterns there, if you look right."

"Don't need just magic for dat. Dere are other patterns." Remy said, and for the first time, Amanda tasted fear in his words. Not for himself, but that uncertainty of something just on the edge and coming. "Look, something bad is coming. Call it deja vu, premonitions or fucking women's intuition, but dere is a train wreck waiting, and we going to be right in de middle of it, chere. Dat," He pointed to the envolope. "Is de best dat I can do." She tore open the end, and a key attached to a small cardboard card dropped into her hand.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to push aside the growing fear she felt at his words. And a growing weariness - wasn't the world done fucking her over yet?

"A way out." Remy shook his head. "If something happens, or if things get out of control, you use dat. It opens a safe deposit box in de city. In dere is everything you and a few others need to disappear. Even Wisdom on his best day would need a fucking miracle to find you if you follow what's in there. Take Marie-Ange, take dat Meggan, who ever, but get out. Lorna got de other one, both of you in different directions. You strong, 'manda, like I said. If you can get dem out, you can keep dem safe."

"It's that bad? No, don't answer that." The skirt had a small zippered pocket meant for money and an ID card - she slipped the key into it and zipped it closed. It should be safe there. Part of her wanted to protest, to whine about how unfair this was, but she knew the futility of that. And she could be strong - Remy believed in her. "I hope t' Christ nothin' does go that wrong, but if it does... I'll be ready," she told him. Their drinks finally appeared, and held up her glass to him. "New toast?"

"Oui." Remy said, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The fact that was he was worried, even a little scared, because something told him a steamroller was coming, and he couldn't figure out from where. The boxes were his own last ditch effort. Lorna and Amanda; between them they could get out anyone who had a chance, and keep them in line long enough to disappear. Le Beau accepted that their chance would come over the bodies of whoever could hold out long enough to let them get away, and he was amoung that number. He couldn't tell her about Wisdom, not yet, but he'd just taken away their and his best weapon with the key.

"To bastards." A slight smile quirked his features as he started to regain his control. "All of us."

She gave him a curious look - the sudden relaxing hadn't gone unnoticed - but she said nothing. "I'll drink t' that," she agreed, clinking her glass lightly against his before tossing back the contents. She looked around the club - people were starting to fill the place. "Up for showin' these wankers how it's done?" she said with a grin, wanting to put the serious stuff behind them. She wouldn't forget, but for now, all she wanted to do was act her age and not think about the fucked-up life waiting for her. For both of them. She slid off her stool and tugged lightly at Remy's arm. "C'mon, you remember how t' dance, right?" she teased. "Or did that age too?"

"Should turn you over my knee and spank you, talking to your elders like dat." Remy said, coming easily to his feet and heading for the dance floor. "'fact, might do dat anyway if you ask real nice."

"Promises, promises," she told him with a laugh.