Chapter 10

Although Remy invited Jackie and Marie to join him for New Years, the girls declined, preferring to spend the night with their friends. Remy and Marie went on their January date before the spring semester started.

Remy then invited both of them to his birthday party. His forty-first was just a 'quiet' evening with a small group of friends and family. Remy didn't always feel the need to have a party for his birthday, but he did want the excuse to see Marie again. He sat in the middle along one side of the table in the restaurant, with Silvia on one side, Marie on the other and Jackie sitting across from Marie. Emil was sitting between Silvia and Henri at the head of the table, and Mercy between Henri and Jackie.

It occurred to Remy that this was the first time Marie and Silvia had spoken to each other. He was reasonably certain they'd met the previous year at his last birthday party, but until now they'd never had a conversation. Not that they were doing much in conversing. It was usually interesting when his mistresses met each other; he could never tell if they were going to get along or not.

Silvia wasn't really sure what to make of Marie. It was very easy to see the younger woman as "the competition", even if technically, there was no competition. Remy was in an open relationship with both of them and as such, he wasn't cheating on her with Marie. Nevertheless, Silvia was quite certain that she'd be able to handle Marie's presence a lot better if she was in the same age bracket.

"Oh, Marie," said Jackie as they looked over the menu, "you should get the Chicken a la Diable. That's what I'm having. It's really good here."

"In that case you should probably have the Beaujolais," Remy said thoughtfully.

Marie looked at both of them with an amused smirk on her face. "So, am I ever going to be able to go out to dinner with either of you, without you making some recommendation on the food or the wine?"

"I understand your pain, chère," said Henri, grinning at her.

"But just think," Mercy said helpfully, "if you don't like it, you know who to blame."

Marie laughed.

"Oui, can't blame the chef," said Remy. "Actually I think the head chef here graduated from the CIA."

Silvia frowned.

"Who cares as long as they can cook?" asked Emil.

"I like knowing where the chefs were taught," said Remy. "It gives you some idea of whether you should have high or low expectations for the food."

"But then you wouldn't go to a restaurant if you had low expectations of the food," Marie said, "and you might miss out on something really good."

"I never said I wouldn't go there," Remy replied. "I just like to know what to expect. Kind of like people who like to find out how the story goes before they watch the movie."

"Umm," Silvia said, "since when does the CIA train chefs?"

"Since always," Jackie said. "That's the whole point, duh."

"No, it's not," Silvia said with a confused frown. "I would think that they'd be more interested in national security."

"A cooking school interested in national security?" Jackie asked with a silly grin on her face. "What are they going to do? Hit illegal immigrants with frying pans?"

"I don't know," Remy said mischievously. "They're probably good at grilling suspects."

"Umm, Silvia?" Marie said, looking around Remy to the other woman. "We were talking about the Culinary Institute of America, not the Central Intelligence Agency."

"Oh," Silvia replied, her frown deepening. "Well, they shouldn't be allowed to have the same initials. Isn't there a law against that?"

"There are laws against poaching too, but the CIA still does it," Jackie said.

Marie burst out laughing. Their waiter arrived not long thereafter and took their orders.

It was the first misunderstanding on Silvia's part of the evening, and it wasn't the last. As the meal progressed, Remy found himself unwittingly comparing Marie and Silvia, and abruptly realised towards the end of the night that he'd spent significantly more time talking with Marie rather than Silvia. He told himself it was just because Silvia would be coming home with him tonight, so he wanted to get in as much time with Marie as possible, but that evening he and Silvia didn't really talk at all. Rather, they made their way straight into the bedroom and let their bodies have the conversation.

A few days later Silvia opened her front door and found Remy standing on her doorstep.

"Remy," she said. "This is a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you."

Remy smiled faintly.

"Not that pleasant, I'm afraid," he replied. "Silvia, I... It's time for us to break up."

"What?" Silvia asked, the smile fading fast from her face. "Why? What do you mean?"

"It's not working between us any more—"

"That's ridiculous! Of course it's working!"

"Surely you've noticed? We never talk any more, chère, we just go straight to the bedroom."

"I'm sorry, are you breaking up with me because we have too much sex?"

Remy cracked a smile. "No. I'm breaking up with you because that's all we do. When all I want is sex, I hire a hooker. And you're not a hooker. You're a beautiful, generous, caring woman."

Silvia looked away. "No, I'm not."

"Sure you are," he insisted. "I've been very lucky to have you, as any homme would be. And it's not just that. You and I, we haven't got a future together. It wouldn't be fair of me to hold onto you when there's someone else out there who can give you the life you deserve."

"But, Remy, I," Silvia began, and then had to stop because she was getting all choked up with tears.

"Shh," Remy said softly, touching her lips with his finger. "It's okay. You're better off without me."

"N-no—"

"Au revoir, chérie."

Marie was in the robotics lab with two guys she shared some classes with. On the bench was an ovoid-shaped robot that the group had been creating for a robot war. The two guys couldn't have been more difference in appearance: Chris was notably overweight, brown-haired, short and wore glasses. Ryan was bone thin, tall, blond and didn't need glasses.

"Alright," said Chris, "I think that just about does it for tonight."

"I believe that's code for 'I couldn't be bothered doing any more'," Marie said with a teasing grin.

"Yep," Chris replied.

"We could do with a break anyway," said Ryan. "Maybe if we sleep on it, we can figure it out."

"Usually works that way," Marie said in agreement.

The three packed up and then headed out to the car park. Ryan was the only one with a car, and by default was their ride home. Chris was closest, so Ryan dropped him off first, then he headed for Marie's.

"So, uhh, do you have any plans for Valentines Day?" Ryan asked when they were almost there.

Marie couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips.

"No, actually," she said. "Do you?"

"No," Ryan replied. "I, umm, don't supposed you'd consider making some plans with me...would you?"

"I might," Marie said, turning her head towards him. "What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner?" he asked hopefully.

"As long as your idea of dinner isn't something like McDonalds."

Ryan laughed. "No."

"Good," Marie said as they pulled up in the parking lot. "Then it's a date."

Later that evening, Marie got a call from Remy:

"So, wanna be my Valentine?" he asked.

Marie was stunned silent for a moment, and then remembered she needed to say something.

"Oh, umm, I... I'm sorry sugar, I've already got plans for the fourteenth," she said. "I didn't even think... You do know it's a week night, right? I wouldn't have been able to sleep over."

"Yeah, I know," Remy replied, trying not to sound disappointed. "I thought... Well, it doesn't matter what I thought now. I'll just have to find another date."

"What about Silvia? Or does she have other plans too?"

"Something like that. What about the following Friday?"

"That's fine."

"Well, good. I'll pick you up at... I don't know. I'll text you later once I figure out what we're doing."

Marie chuckled. "Okay. Sorry sugar. I honestly didn't think that you'd ask me out for Valentines Day. You should have called yesterday."

"That close, huh?" Remy asked ruefully.

"Yep."

"Oh well. And you don't need to apologise, chère. Not like we're exclusive or anything. So, ahh, how long have you been going out? If you don't mind my asking...?"

"Actually this'll be our first date."

"Ahh. Well, good luck then."

"Thanks."

They hung up not long after that and Remy looked glumly at his phone while he put it on the table.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much that Marie was seeing someone else. They had an open relationship precisely because it would be highly hypocritical of him to insist she should be faithful when he had a wife. In any case, the only reason why Marie was even dating him at all was because that was the price he asked her for the Cure. She'd made it very clear she wasn't interested in him like that. It was completely understandable that she would look for love elsewhere in unmarried men close to her age.

Remy sighed and went looking for his cigarettes.

He wasn't entirely sure why he wanted her all to himself anyway. He could think of a few possibilities, the first being the challenge she posed him, simply by refusing him. She was different from his other mistresses. Some of the difference could be put down to the generation gap, but there were other things about her as well that made her stand out; little things that refused to be named, but were there.

He should probably do the decent thing and respect her wishes. Marie didn't need him in her life.

But if he was a decent guy, he wouldn't have stolen the Cure in the first place.

Valentines Day arrived, and Marie was greatly relieved to finally be unlocking the dorm room door. It had been a long day. She was looking forward to having a chance to relax before they had to go out again. She had barely stepped inside the dorm when something unusual caught her attention.

"What in the world?" Marie exclaimed.

"What?" Jackie asked, closing the door behind her.

Before Marie could answer, Jackie saw for herself: On each of their desks was a bouquet of six roses (Marie's were red, Jackie's were a dark pink), and a matching box. "Ahh. I bet Papa's been here."

"How'd he get in? Did you give him a key?" Marie asked and then realised the stupidity of her question, just as Jackie said: "He probably picked the lock."

"Right, of course," Marie said, putting her bag down on the floor, and making her way over to the desk. "Does he always get you something for Valentines Day?"

Jackie shrugged as she glanced at the note attached to the flowers, confirming that Remy had been there.

"Usually," she said, then paused and frowned thoughtfully at Marie. "That's not weird, is it?"

"Weird? What do you mean?" Marie asked, picking up the box of chocolates.

"You know, that Papa gives me Valentines Day presents," Jackie said, sitting down on her bed. "I mean, I know the day's supposed to be a romantic love day, and all..."

Marie chuckled.

"Nah, I don't think that's weird," Marie said. "Sometimes parents do give their kids Valentines. And friends can give each other Valentines too. I think it's more of a 'general love' day, than a 'romantic love' day, myself."

Jackie nodded. "Alright then. Sometimes I can't tell—I mean, I know that I do and think things differently to other people, and sometimes I just can't tell if I'm being normal or not."

"Normal is relative," Marie replied with a wave of her hand. "The definition becomes vaguer and vaguer as the number of people increases. Since when are you worried about being normal anyway?"

"Oh, I have no problems with being myself," Jackie said, "except when I'm working. Then I would prefer not to draw unwanted attention to myself."

"Ahh, of course," Marie said with a nod. "I should have guessed."

Jackie grinned at her, then picked up her box of chocolate and pulled off the pink ribbon. "Now, what delights has Papa decided to stuff me with this year?"

Marie laughed and put her own box of chocolates back next to the flowers. "If it was anyone else, I'd be a little concerned about things like this showing up in here unannounced."

"You should continue being concerned," Jackie advised her. "If Papa had any other reason for coming in here, like going through our things, we wouldn't know. Unless he stole something, which is unlikely."

"Thank you for making me feel so much better," Marie replied cynically.

"You're welcome."

That evening, Ryan pulled up in the parking lot attached to Marie's dormitory block.

"So, did you have a good time tonight?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I did," Marie replied. "Did you?"

"Yep. So, umm, would you like to maybe, go out again sometime?" Ryan asked, wondering why he was nervous about asking this. The date had gone well.

"Sure, I'd like that," she said. "All I ask is that when we get to date three, you don't ask me out in the car."

Ryan laughed and Marie grinned at him as she opened up her door.

"Okay," he agreed, rather excited about the prospect of a 'date three'. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep," Marie said.

She leaned over, kissed his cheek lightly, and was starting to get out of the car when she remembered Remy. She winced internally.

"Umm, there's just one thing," Marie said, a little reluctantly, "I'm... I'm not interested in dating anyone seriously right now."

"Oh...okay?" Ryan replied uncertainly.

"Yeah, so, we'd just be, umm, casual dating," she said, and then added hurriedly: "This is no reflection on you at all. I just want to focus on college right now."

Ryan frowned thoughtfully. "So by casual dating you mean?"

"Meaning if you want to date someone else, you can," Marie replied, feeling sick just saying it.

"Or if you want to." Ryan's tone was almost accusing.

"Don't misunderstand me," Marie said firmly. "I'm not looking to date anyone else at the moment. I just don't want any unnecessary pressure on the relationship. If things work out later, I'm open to changing that. The casual part, I mean."

When Ryan didn't reply straight away, Marie continued:

"If you're not okay with that, I'll understand," she said softly.

"It's just that," Ryan began, hesitated and then said: "This is going to sound dumb."

"Try me," Marie grinned. "I've heard a lot of dumb things."

"Well, I was kind of looking forward to having my first girlfriend."

Marie giggled at his embarrassed tone and leaned towards him.

"You can call me that, if you want," she said. "It could well be that for all intents and purposes we end up dating exclusively anyway. As I said, I don't want any necessary pressure on us. Exams are stressful enough as it is."

"Well, that's true," Ryan conceded, daring to turn his head to look at Marie and see her smiling face.

"You think about it and get back to me," Marie said. "In the meantime, I'm still holding you to that second date."

Ryan started to laugh and was silenced by Marie's lips on his. At first he was way too shocked to respond, and he could only stare at Marie when she pulled away from the brief kiss.

"How does next Saturday sound?" she asked.

"Fine," Ryan replied, his voice sounding a little squeaky.

"Great," Marie said, finally shuffling out of the car. "See you later, sugar."

Ryan almost didn't say 'bye' in time. He watched as Marie made her way inside, all excited because he'd finally had his first kiss.

A half hour later, Remy stood on the doorstep of his date's home. She was in his arms and sharing a kiss with him, when the front door was opened by a horrified teenage girl. Startled, Remy and his date, Fiona, pulled away.

"How could you!" the girl exclaimed before running away in tears.

"Oh dear," said Fiona. "I suppose I'd better talk to her."

"Oui," Remy said, dropping his hands. "I'd, ahh, ask you out on a second date but..."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Fiona replied. "I'm just not ready for another relationship right now."

Remy nodded. "I understand, I do. If you ever change your mind, you have my number. I'm always good for flings."

Fiona grinned at him. "I'm sure you are. Thanks for a lovely evening, Remy."

"Thank you for spending it with me," Remy replied, backing down the stairs. "Good luck."

Come Friday, Remy was having a hard time concentrating on his date with Marie. They were at the theatre, watching an amateur production of The Mikado. Marie seemed to be enjoying it, but the comic opera was failing to keep Remy's attention. His hand was holding hers, but all he could think about was wondering how her date went with the other man. Did it go well? Did he hold her hand too? Did they kiss? The only thing he could be certain of was that they wouldn't have slept together.

Marie was hardly the first mistress Remy ever had that had dated other men at the same time. In fact, Remy rather suspected that most, if not all of them, had. The difference with Marie, Remy decided after a great deal of stewing on the matter, was that Marie was the only mistress he'd had that was with him because she had to be, and not because she wanted to be. He just didn't know how he could compete with the guy she wanted to be with.

It was only after they got back to his place, that Remy finally asked the question:

"So," he said once they were settled on the lounge, "how'd your date go the other night?"

"It was great," Marie replied, a smile lighting up her face. "Ryan's such a sweetheart. We're going out again next week. He wasn't too happy about the casual dating thing, but he seemed to understand about me wanting to focus on school."

"I'm your deep dark secret, am I, chère?"

"Damn straight. There's no way any of my friends are finding out that I'm dating a married man, let alone that I'm paying off a debt by pretending to be someone's girlfriend," Marie said firmly. "Next thing I know, people'll be offering to pay me for other things."

"Well, we can't have that," Remy said, getting up off the lounge. "I need a drink, you want anything?"

"Water'll be fine, thanks," Marie said, following him into the kitchen.

She sat down at the bench and then raised her eyebrows as she watched Remy pull the bourbon out of the cupboard.

"Oh, you meant a drink drink," Marie said.

"Oui," Remy said, getting out the glasses. "Why? Changed your mind?"

Marie was about to say she'd stick to water, when she actually did change her mind. "Actually, can I try some of the bourbon? I haven't had any before. I usually just have beer, or wine when I'm with you."

"Sure," Remy said with a shrug.

He added some ice to Marie's glass, and then poured the bourbon into both—intending on drinking his straight. He slid Marie's glass across the counter to him and she thanked him before taking a tentative sip.

"Whoa! Okay!" Marie exclaimed when she found her voice again. "That burns."

Remy grinned at her—the first grin he'd had for her all night. "Oui."

Marie shook her head. "Well, I did ask."

"You get used to it," Remy replied. "You could always try another bourbon, too. They don't all taste the same. Although that does depend on who you talk to."

"Bit like wine, huh?"

"And beer. And...well pretty much any alcoholic beverage, really."

"Hmm," Marie said, looking at her glass with trepidation. "So, uhh, how'd your date go? On Valentines Day?"

Remy shrugged and picked up his own glass. "Fine."

"Gonna see her again?"

"Unlikely," he replied. "She was a recent divorcee, and really only accepted my invitation to annoy her ex. They're still living together. Unfortunately, we also ended up upsetting her daughter."

"Ahh," Marie said, and then gaped in shock as Remy proceeded to down about half his bourbon in one gulp. "How can you drink it like that?"

Remy shrugged in reply, and put the glass back down again. For a moment they just looked at each other, and then Remy reached out and touched her cheek gently. He leaned further over the counter to kiss her. She kissed him back, but Remy knew it was because she had to, not because she wanted to. He couldn't even pretend and fool himself into thinking otherwise like he did with prostitutes. Marie didn't care about him. She probably didn't even like him, not with him screwing up her love life.

He pulled away from the kiss and downed the rest of his bourbon.

Remy did a lot of heavy drinking over the next few days. He'd restrained himself during his date with Marie, having just enough to take the edge off. Once he didn't have to worry about behaving himself, he was back on the lounge, drinking himself into oblivion and recreating a patch of black behind him with the remains of beer after beer.

Jackie arrived at their dorm midday on the Sunday after Marie's second date with Ryan. Although Jackie looked like herself initially, the moment the door way shut behind her, she dropped the illusion and Marie gaped at her dishevelled appearance.

"That must have been some party," Marie said, staring at the massive hickey on the side of Jackie's neck.

Jackie grinned gleefully at her.

"Actually, the party was pretty lame," Jackie said wickedly. "Pierre and Damo, on the other hand..."

"You finally gave into temptation and had a threesome," Marie said, shook her head, and then added: "Was it all you dreamed it would be?"

"Better. Want details?"

"No, not really."

Jackie chuckled and rubbed her hands together.

"All I'm going to say is—"

"Must you?"

"—I need to get more flavoured condoms."

"Okay, I really didn't need that image," Marie said.

"Sometimes, Marie, you are such a prude," Jackie teased her.

"Sometimes, Jackie," Marie replied sweetly, "you are such a slut."

"It runs in the family," Jackie replied cheerfully. "What? You didn't think I'd actually be insulted by that, did you? You have met my parents."

"So Marie," Marie said, "how was your date last night? It was pretty good, thanks Jackie. It was really nice spending some time together, just getting to know each other."

"Yeah 'getting to know'." Jackie said wickedly, while sitting on the bed and taking off her boots.

"It was good quality time," Marie insisted, refusing to rise to Jackie's bait. "We had a chance to connect to each other on an intellectual and emotional level."

"I bet you haven't even gotten to second base yet," Jackie said, "major or minor league."

"Sugar, the first time I even touched first base, I put him into a coma for three weeks," Marie replied with a flick of her hair. "The only way I could get to first base with my second boyfriend before I got the Cure, was if he turns his lips into ice first, and even then we couldn't get away with it for more than a few seconds."

"If I ever meet Bobby," Jackie decided, "I'm going to pounce on him."

"He's got a girlfriend."

"So?"

"Oh, right," Marie said cynically. "It runs in the family."

Jackie chuckled.

"The first time I got to first base," Jackie said, "it was with my friend Sy. We were trying to figure out what the big deal was."

"Did you figure it out?" Marie asked with a slight laugh.

"Nope, we both thought it was pretty gross," Jackie replied cheerfully. "Emil said we should keep practising and that it would get better. Of course, Maman freaked when she discovered me making out with Sy."

"Because her little girl was kissing a boy?"

"No, because I was kissing Emil's son."

"Oh," Marie replied, not realising Sy and Emil had been related.

"Maman can't stand Emil. She only tolerates him because she has to," Jackie told her with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "She was all 'I know you want to experiment, but does it have to be with Sy?'"

"So what did you do?"

"Well, it turned out to be a good thing, because I rather liked Sy, but instead I hit home base with this other guy, Quinten. Yeah, I ended up beating the crap out of Quin, 'cause it damn well hurt when he entered me. Stupid stretching," Jackie said with remembered indignation. "And I would have hated to have hurt my friend."

"Wait, so you lost it to someone you didn't even like?" Marie asked, giving her an odd look.

"Maman recommended finding someone who'd done it before," Jackie replied with a shrug. "You know, to save awkward fumbling. She said if I wanted to wait until I was of age, we could hire a professional to do the job, but I was impatient."

Jackie didn't notice Marie's horrified look as she set her boots aside and continued her musing: "I'm not sure if I regret not waiting or not. I guess it would have hurt either way."

"I cannot believe your mama actually suggested hiring a...a...a sex worker to take away your virginity," Marie said. "I can't believe anyone's mama would suggest that."

"Why?" Jackie asked, giving Marie an odd look. "A bad first time can seriously screw up your sex life."

"Yeah, but it's your first time," Marie said. "It should be special."

"Awwwwwww," said Jackie, batting her eyes at Marie. "Was your first time 'special'?"

"Yes it was, actually," Marie said stiffly. "We had music and candles and—"

"Fumbling and awkwardness," Jackie cut in, grinning.

"A little, yeah, but I shared it with someone I loved," Marie said firmly.

"And I shared mine with someone I barely knew, and didn't feel even the slightest bit of remorse for breaking his nose afterwards," Jackie said merrily. "But hey, at least Quin knew where to put it and how to get in there."

"You broke his nose?" Marie asked.

"Yeah," Jackie said as she stood up. "I bet he had a great time explaining that afterwards. I hope he told everyone he had rough sex. That would have been hilarious."

"Ahh, yes, there's an old joke that when a boy comes home with a black eye, he tells his father 'you should see the other guy'," Marie said.

Jackie laughed.

"Anyway," Jackie said, "as fascinating as this conversation is, I need a shower."

Marie waved her hand in front of her face and grinned at Jackie. "Yes you do."

"Smart ass."

"Yep."

Remy stubbed out his cigarette with his boot on the ground of the parking lot outside of Marie and Jackie's dormitory block. He was about to walk towards the main doors, when they opened and Marie stepped through. She looked gorgeous, as usual, and had even deigned to wear a short skirt tonight, despite the cool air.

"Hey," she said as she approached. "I saw you arrive but..."

Marie trailed off as she caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. Well, that explained why he hadn't come up yet.

"I was just finishing up something," Remy replied, moving around to Marie's side of the car to open the door for her.

"Thanks," Marie replied tersely, not at all appreciating the smell on him, but not wanting to say anything. He didn't usually show up to their dates smelling of cigarette.

Remy gave a half shrug and then got into the car himself.

"So," Marie said when they've been driving for awhile in silence, "where are we headed tonight?"

"There's a seafood restaurant that overlooks the Mississippi," Remy replied.

"Sounds nice."

They fell into silence again, and then Remy pulled out a packet of cigarette from inside his coat. Marie didn't notice what he was doing until after he'd lit the cigarette hanging out of his mouth with his finger. Incensed, Marie grabbed the packet—which he hadn't put away yet—and threw it hard over the side of the car.

"Marie!" Remy objected, the car swerving in his knee-jerk reaction to save his cigarettes. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Hey, the road's that way," Marie retorted hotly, gesturing to the road in question. "And I don't give a rat's ass if your doctor doesn't believe you smoke. It still stains your teeth, makes your breath smell bad, and you're obviously still getting the nicotine, or you wouldn't want to smoke in the first place. Unless you've got a healing factor, there's no way you can possibly convince me it's not doing you any harm, Swamp Rat, no matter how many party tricks you have. I have no intention of breathing in your second-hand smoke either."

For a moment, Remy was rendered silent. She could have just said it was a disgusting habit, and although she did comment about bad breath and second-hand smoke, the focus of her rant had been his health. A small smile grew on his lips as he pulled out his freshly lit cigarette from his mouth and held it out to her. Maybe she did actually care about him, after all.

"Want to do the honours with this one, too?" he asked her.

Marie grinned, took the cigarette, stubbed it out in the in-car ash tray and then dropped it over the side. While she was doing this, Remy pulled out a box of sugar-free breath mints from one of his pockets. He popped one into his mouth.

"Good boy," Marie said as Remy put the packet away again.

Remy laughed.

The rest of the trip was still in silence, but it was a lot more companionable and relaxed than how it had begun. Once they parked at the restaurant, Remy took Marie's hand and held it in his, right until they reached their table, when he reluctantly let go.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Remy asked her about college, Marie complained that papers were a pain, and they chatted about other, general topics in between enjoying their seafood platter and white wine.

"I was thinking," Remy began.

"Did it hurt?" Marie asked with a smirk.

"No, but it might," he replied evenly. "I may need you to kiss it better."

Marie giggled.

"You were thinking," she prompted.

"By my calculations, this is date ten, which means you owe me two more," Remy said. "I figure we can go out again this month, say in a fortnight."

"Okay."

"And then the last date can be for the Guild anniversary party," Remy said. "After the party I can take you back to my place for fun times. That'll be a Saturday evening."

"I thought you and Bella Donna used your anniversary to flaunt new partners," Marie said. "At least, that's the impression I got from Jackie."

Remy shrugged. "Sometimes, not always. We don't tell every partner about the Guild, so it's not unusual for the same person to come as our guest multiple times. Meg went three times."

Marie looked at Remy as a sad expression flickered across his face.

"You liked Meg?" she asked.

Remy looked down at his plate and pushed his food around with his fork.

"I loved Meg," he admitted finally. "We were together for five years, not exclusively, I'll admit, but if I could have been, I would have. I'm living in limbo here, chère. I can't change the past with Belle, and I have no future with anyone else."

The last part came out a bit sharper than he intended and he stabbed his fish in irritation. Marie was silent for a time, thrown off by the unexpected outburst.

"Well," she said finally, "I'd be happy to go to the party, just as long as it's okay with Jackie. She was really upset about it last time."

"I'll talk to her," Remy replied, still looking at his plate, although his voice sounded calmer.

"So, umm, what are you guys doing for the anniversary this year?" Marie asked.

"Masquerade ball."

"Really?" Marie asked brightly. "I've always wanted to go to one of those. Now I really hope it's okay with Jackie."

Remy lifted his head and grinned at Marie. "This mean you'll help me talk her into it?"

"I might," Marie replied slyly.

After dinner, Remy drove them to a lookout that had a glorious view of the Mississippi river. From the looks of things, there were a number of other people who had the same idea, although in their case, Remy's plan involved the additional step of closing the top of his convertible.

"I can't believe we haven't made out in the back of the car already," he said as he joined Marie on the back seat. "Where has my head been?"

"I can think of a few places," Marie replied dryly.

Remy chuckled wickedly as his hands found her legs and lifted them over his lap.

"You weren't planning on wearing these all night, were you?" he asked, indicating her stockings.

Marie hesitated before replying. Normally she wouldn't have even considered saying what she was about to say, but she was feeling a little sorry for him after his brief outburst in the restaurant. Besides, she preferred direct skin-to-skin contact anyway.

"They're thigh-high's," she told him, holding his gaze. "They should slip right off."

Remy paused at the unexpected, tacit permission to put his hands under her skirt (if only for that one task) and Marie fancied that his eyes even glowed with his delight. He started to move one hand up her leg, then seemed to remember she was wearing shoes and Marie grinned as Remy turned slightly so he could remove those first.

He met her eyes once more and slowly slid one hand down her left leg, prepared to back out in case she changed her mind. She didn't so much as flinch when his fingers followed the stocking under her skirt and didn't say a word as his fingers ran over the lace at the top. Slowly, he tucked his fingers in under the elastic, folded the top over and rolled the stocking down and off her leg. Marie smiled as he lifted her leg to kiss her bare skin gently, and then repeated everything with her right leg.

Shoes and stockings now on the floor, Remy kissed her and shifted them both so that Marie was lying on her back and Remy half on top of her. Their legs were entangled with each other in what was left of the space.

"Mmm," Marie said, after hitting her head on the door. "Okay, seriously, I have no idea how anyone can have sex on the back seat of a car."

Remy chuckled.

"Want me to demonstrate?" he asked mischievously.

"You wish."

"Oui, I do, very much."

Marie found herself blushing at his tone, and Remy lowered his head to kiss her. He supported his weight with one hand, while the other caressed Marie's closest leg. He loved that she was quick to respond and return in kind nowadays. It was nice to feel her relax and hopefully even enjoy his ministrations, rather than stiffening and freezing up all the time, like she often did in the beginning.

Remy's hand found the hem of her skirt and slowly drifted up underneath, keeping to her outer thigh. Marie didn't object, so he took that as permission that he could stay. His fingers kneaded her leg with vigour and in his enthusiasm, his hand moved further up her leg (not that there was much further it could go at that point).

When Remy's fingers brushed against the edge of her underwear, however, Marie grabbed his hand and yanked it down.

"Down boy," she murmured.

Remy laughed softly and nuzzled her nose. "I thought you didn't reward bad behaviour."

"I don't," Marie replied. "But that one was my fault. I did kind of invite you in, I just...failed to tell you how far you could go."

Remy grinned and kissed her again briefly.

"You make me so hot," he said.

"I'd gotten that impression," Marie replied, feeling a little embarrassed at his admission and avoiding his eyes.

"You have to promise me something, chère," Remy said seriously. "Even if it's not with me, you have to have sex on the back seat of a car at least once in your lifetime."

Marie laughed.

"Oh do I?" she asked.

"Oui," Remy said firmly.

Later that night found Remy and Marie in bed together. Marie was fast asleep with her head on his shoulder and one arm wrapped over his chest. Remy had one arm wrapped around her back and was gently stroking her arm with his free hand. The arm she was lying on was starting to go dead, but Remy didn't care. She fit so perfectly next to him, in his arms, he didn't want the moment to end.