Chapter Ten: Neige Chaude*

She was always so damn sultry to him, no matter what she was doing or how she was dressed. Even now, R&B music thumping through the walls of the kitchen he knew she was just on the other side in his sweatshirt and some leggings putting ornaments on her father's tree, her hair in loose curls and a headband humming with her hips swaying. He smiled and shook his head as he pulled his fresh chocolate chip cookies from the oven, marveling at the ease at which he felt in her father's house.

House wasn't exactly the word. Mansion? Estate? Rolling hills and forest surrounded the large main "house" filled with no less than one hundred bedrooms and twenty-five classrooms. A cabin in the wooded area was all Ororo's, while her sisters' enclosures were closer to home, which to Remy was telling of their family dynamic. Ororo had an enclosed garden near the house that seemed untouched by the winter weather, but otherwise was a far walk from the rest of the Xavier clan. A sudden pang of nervousness hit him; this was their first Christmas together.

He hoped he was making a great impression on her family; he was trying really hard. He'd been polite, he'd been cooking, and most important he hadn't laid an inappropriate hand on Ororo since he got there. He still got the distinct impression that Charles wasn't really into him; sure he'd been courteous, but whereas Betsey and her boyfriend Warren could be openly affectionate, every time he'd make a move towards Ororo, the elder man would clear his throat. He'd be speaking about something with her uncle Hank and Charles would interrupt and change the subject to medicine or law, anything slightly out of Remy's spectrum.

"Mr. Remy, come out and see the tree!" a small, blue child yelled suddenly, breaking Remy from his thoughts.

"Alright petite, I'm coming," he smiled, allowing himself to be lead through an atrium and into the living room.

Their eyes caught and warmth filled his heart; she was lifting up a blonde girl with red streaks in her hair to put the final star on top of the tree. Beauty, grace and so much more…did he deserve this woman? Could he ever hope to be everything to her that she was to him? Even now after being with her a year he was still amazed at how much of her there was for him to still learn and love.

"Isn't it the best tree you've ever seen Mr. Remy?" the blue girl asked, running to sift through the mountain of presents already organized under the tree.

Yes, it was the best tree he'd ever seen, and as the children made a halo of tinsel around her hair he thought Christmas couldn't get any better.

After playing football with the boys, teaching the girls how to bake more of his cookies and talking to Hank about sports and politics, Remy realized he hadn't seen his perfect storm in hours. Pulling on a heavy coat and boots, he slipped away before anyone else could snatch him up for this or that to search for his lady love.

He didn't have to search far; there was an enclosed garden adjacent to the mansion that radiated heat even in the harsh chill of December. African violets nestled against various lilies, Ororo's favorite, and lavender. He didn't know much about flowers, but he knew they all couldn't grow in the same weather pattern; but then again they had a special and peculiar handler. A small cloud of rain was condensed, pressing against the roof of the greenhouse. It followed behind her, bending to her will and sprinkling everything from the bamboo stalks to the small ferns and intricately woven moss and ivy.

"You do amazing things with your talent cher," he said softly, easing out of his coat and boots.

Her misted over eyes smiled at him, "Thank you sweetheart."

"Is it just me or have we not seen much of each other?"

She sighed and thunder rumbled from the little cloud. He moved quickly behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. They didn't say anything, there was no need. He knew her cues; thunder meant anger, frustration and stress. He held her close and let his energy wrap around her, and waited for her body to relax. He nuzzled into her hair, pulling her hips into his subtly enough to get his fill of her backside.

He felt her catch a moan in her throat as his lips grazed the tender flesh. He'd missed being this close to her, and ached to be closer. Not willing to push or coax the weather witch into anything she didn't want, he'd been holding off on that particular consummation. For eleven months and sixteen days. He sighed and pulled away from her, instead moving to the other side of the atrium of the green house.

"How do you get them all to grow together?"

"Remy…"

"I mean, they're all from different continents non? And these lilies. I've never seen lilies this high, cher."

"Remy…"

He turned finally to look at her and groaned; she'd taken off her leggings, his sweatshirt…White, frilly, lacy things complimented the mahogany of her skin and he suddenly felt like he couldn't get enough air. Her silvery hair curled and fell around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back, but what struck him were her eyes. Misted over in the faintest of blue, they shone like diamonds.

"Mon Dieu 'Roro…"

Her eyes were pleading and soft, asking without words. He took her hands in his, admiring the way their skin contrasted as he laced their fingers. She tugged lightly, backing into a darkened corner where an open futon covered in plush green and white blankets beckoned to them. The little rain cloud rumbled above their heads as his lips finally collided with hers denoting a new emotion; desire. Though the room was still warm, snow began to fall over them…

Charles had become tired of waiting and started dinner without the tardy party of two, but he couldn't deny that something was amiss. Betsey and Jean sat next to each other, blushing and eating quickly, but he couldn't decipher any of their thoughts coherently. It was in that inane language they'd developed over the years to communicate between the three of them. As he tried to reach his wild middle child he was coming up with darkness. She was somewhere in the area, as was her beau, but she was shielding them…or maybe…

"Jean, this is nonsense. Where is your sister?"

She's safe Dad, don't worry about it.

Yeah Pop, let her have a little privacy would you?

"What is there to need privacy f-"

Betsey giggled and Jean's blush reddened her neck. The thought angered and distressed him to the point of nausea. Charles was now convinced he was justified in his actions. Now all there was to do was push further, and faster if he could. The wait was now over.

Translation: Hot Snow*