Okay, I've had a few questions about when Scott and others are going to be brought into the story. I just wanted to let you guys know, things in that direction get started in chapter 13, the chapter I just finished writing. So, soon :) It's coming! I wanted to put Spencer and Remy in a place together before I really started to add too many others. Any ways, here's the next chapter for all of you, my lovelies! Please, R&R!
A month had gone by since the anniversary of the massacre and life in the Reid household really seemed to be settling in. The two men had grown closer since that day. Remy found himself starting to let go of a tension he hadn't even realized he'd had. Even though the two were putting their best effort into this marriage, a part of Remy hadn't been able to help but worry that Spencer was going to eventually leave. Pretty much anyone else he'd ever counted on had done the same. What would stop Spencer? But after making it through that night, after the way Spencer had stayed with him and cared for him, Remy found himself forgetting those fears little by little and beginning to hope. HE threw himself into things even more than he had been, determined to take this house they had and make it a home.
That was why he was currently stripped down to a pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top, his hair braided out of the way and covered with a bandana, while he painted the walls in the kitchen a color that the can labeled 'Empire Gold', which was really a nice warm yellow that brightened up the room. He was halfway through when the house phone rang nearby. With one hand he grabbed the remote to pause his music before stretching with the other to hit the speakerphone button. "Bonjour, Reid residence."
There was only a short pause before a warm, familiar laugh filled the kitchen. "Did I call de right house? Y' sound so formal dere, mon fils."
The sound of Jean-Luc's voice brought a wide smile to Remy's face. He'd given his father this number a couple months back when he'd first called to tell him about the marriage. Since then he hadn't heard from the man, though that wasn't unusual. Their communications were generally spread out, depending on how busy either one of them was. That also meant that conversations between them could be very short, if business interrupted, or extremely long, if they had the time to catch up on everything. He hoped now would end up being one of their long talks; it had been far too long since they'd really had a chance to chat. Despite what people thought, Remy was very close with his father. Closer than anyone knew. It was safer for them to foster the image of estrangement. Better to let both their enemies think that they didn't speak al that often.
"Y' got de right house. Gotta sound respectful just in case it's Spencer's work calling, oui?" Stretching back over the counter, Remy went back to painting the strip of backsplash he was working on. "Comment ça va, Papa?"
"Bien, mon fils. Y'r Papa's doin' just fine. How about y'? How's de married life treating y'?"
"It's treatin' me bien." For a second Remy pulled back to inspect the spot he was on. With a nod, he moved to a new spot, clambering up on the counter to reach the wall above the cupboards. "Been getting t'ings fixed up round de house, keeping m'self busy when he's out on cases."
"Y'r Tante got de pictures y' sent down fo' her. Y' and y'r man look très content. It's good to see. Been a long time since I saw a smile on y'r face like de one y' got on in de pictures. He makes y' happy den, dis Spencer?"
Without him even noticing, a smile curved Remy's lips. "Oui, he does."
"Dat's de first time I've asked y' dat about someone y'r dating and I actually believe y'r answer. He's already a step above any of de others y've dated." Jean-Luc paused and snorted slightly. "Definitely better dan dat chienne y' was with."
The uncharacteristic curse from his Papa had Remy wincing. Jean-Luc wasn't the type to curse, and he definitely wasn't the type to call a woman a chienne, a bitch. But since Remy had told him what had happened at the trial, his Papa hadn't been the least bit shy about voicing his opinions of Rogue and none of them were good ones. "She wasn't all dat bad, Papa. We had our good moments together."
Jean-Luc snorted again and his voice practically dripped sarcasm. "Oh, oui, I can see dat. So good she didn't mind givin' y' de hot and cold treatment. So good she could just leave y' on de ice to die."
The sarcasm didn't bother Remy in the least bit. He was well used to it and just gave a roll of his eyes. "Y'r as bad as Spencer, Papa. Dieu. Do we gotta sit and talk about dat femme? I'd rather not spend m' time wit' y' talking about her."
"Fair enough. Tell me what y' been up to. What do y' do to keep y'rself entertained while y'r husband's gone? Y' aint de type to just sit around. Y' been working again?"
"Non. Like I said, I been getting de house all fixed up de way we want, doing little repairs here and dere, renovations and such. I'm painting de kitchen right now, actually. And I got de attic renovated as well. Spencer encouraged me to take de space, so I did, and with de help of his coworker Derek, I got some skylights in and got de place outfitted as a studio. I been painting again, Papa. Not just painting, mais drawing too."
The exclamation Jean-Luc let out was unmistakably happy. "Oh, dat's great news, Remy! Y' got such talent in y'r hands it's been a shame to waste it. What're y' plannin' on doing wit' y'r paintings?"
Amused, Remy slanted a look down at the phone. "What makes y' t'ink I'm gonna do anyt'ing with dem? I just been enjoying de painting."
Laughter filled the kitchen once more. "If dere's one t'ing I know about y', Remy LeBeau, it's dat y' always got a plan fo' everyt'ing. Y' can't fool y'r Papa on dis. Y' find y'rself a gallery?"
Because it was his Papa and Remy had always been able to tell Jean-Luc anything, without any fear of being judged for it, he opened up a little more than he would've it anyone else had asked that question. "Non, I didn't. I've been t'inking about it a little, trying to come up with a plan on how I wanna do dis. If I try and do dis de normal way, dere's a good chance dat I'll end up failing out. One sight of me without m' sunglasses and dere aint gonna be many dat are gonna buy a picture painted by a mutant. Y' and I both know it, Papa. Mais, if I keep m' identity quiet, run all m' work through a middleman, den it'll be judged on its own merit. Plus, it'll have de added appeal of being a mystery, somet'ing dat people just lap up."
"I knew y' had somet'ing planned. Y'r just like y'r Papa." Jean-Luc complimented, bringing a flush of pride to Remy's cheeks. "Now, y'r plan sounds smart. Y'll have to work carefully if y'r gonna keep from being found out, though. Y'll have to find a dealer y' can trust not to sell out y'r identity later on. And in de meantime, y' should be selling somewhere, getting y'r art out to be seen. Not too much, just some minor pieces."
"Dat's what I'm planning on. Dere's a nice shop downtown dat sells local artists' work. I was gonna talk to Spencer, lay out what I wanna do and see if he'll come with me and help me bring some pieces in, claim dey're from an anonymous artist, see if maybe dey might be interested. I'm gonna look around, too, see if I can find a few names of dealers round dese parts, find out what I can about dem."
"Y' need help with names, y' let me know. I can make a few calls."
"Merci, Papa." Remy started to say more but he heard the sound of a car pulling up into the drive. He turned away from the wall and dropped down, landing lightly on his feet. "Papa, someone just pulled up, so I'm gonna have to let y' go."
"Go on den. I gotta get back to work anyways. Mais I'll call y' sometime in de next few weeks to see how y'r work is coming. Je t'aime, mon fils."
"Je t'aime, Papa."
Remy dropped his paint brush down into the water dish and jogged over toward the door. The blinds and curtains in the living room were open so he saw who was there before he even reached the door. When he caught sight of Derek's vehicle, the smile it brought was instantaneous. Like a flash Remy was at the door. He pulled it open wide and let his grin grow while he watched Spencer climb out of the car. This case had taken Spencer away for almost a whole week now and a week just felt far, far too long. Phone calls helped but they could only do so much. There was nothing that beat being able to see the other person, to reach out and touch them. More than that, there was nothing that could beat being able to feel the sensations of Spencer's emotions brushing up against his mind. The two empaths said not a word at first. They let their emotions do the talking for them, greeting one another and saying how much they'd missed the other. From there it was natural for Remy to head down the yard until he was right there at Spencer's side and he could reach out to touch the side of his face, tip down that slight bit so he could press their lips together. He felt Spencer's hands settle on his hips and then the man was tipping his head up and pouring himself into their kiss.
A low cough and a swell of amusement drew them up and away from one another. The two turned to look at Derek, who was leaning over towards the passenger's seat to smirk at them. "Save it till you get in the house, lovebirds." He taunted them. "Hotch said we've got the next two days off, so you've both got plenty of time to catch up. You don't gotta do it all on the front lawn."
"Jealous, mon ami?" Remy kept one arm around Spencer and braced against him so he could bend down enough to meet Derek smirk for smirk.
That just made Derek laugh. "Jealous. Yeah, that's the word for it. Get on inside, freaks. Enjoy your days off!"
After Spencer grabbed his go-bag, the two watched Derek pull out of the drive, waving at him while he pulled away. Then Remy turned to face Spencer and he couldn't keep his smile off his face. His already bright mood was even brighter now. All it took was Spencer coming home and everything seemed just a little bit brighter. "Y' didn't say y' was on y'r way home! I would've cleaned up a bit if I'd known. De kitchen's a bit of a mess. I was just finishing painting in dere."
"I can tell." One of Spencer's fingers brushed over Remy's cheek, coming away with a bit of paint on the tip of it. Amusement danced in his eyes. "The color does look nice. Hopefully it looks nice on the walls as well."
"I t'ink it does. Why don't we go on inside and I'll show y'?" Without thinking about it, Remy stepped in close and slid his arm around Spencer's waist, drawing him against his side. He didn't pay attention to the pain on him or his clothes that he transferred to Spencer's clothes with that move. All of his attention was focused simply on the man he held. "Have y' had lunch yet, cher? I got some cold cuts in dere."
Spencer leaned into his embrace with a relaxed sigh. The little lines of tension on his face were already starting to fade away and it made Remy warm to realize that just coming home did that for him. Being home was enough to take that tension out of Spencer. The young genius tipped his head and rested it against Remy's shoulder for just a second. "That sounds nice. I'll make the sandwiches and you can show me what you've been up to and I'll show you what I brought for you. How does that sound?"
"Dat sounds nice."
Together, the two made their way inside, never fully letting go of one another.
The two men spent the better part of the afternoon just enjoying one another's company and reveling in the feeling of being back together once more. Spencer made their lunch while Remy cleaned up his brushes and paint cans. Then the two sat at the table and enjoyed their lunch together while exchanging stories on what they'd been doing while apart from the other. At one point Spencer brought out the gift he'd brought back for Remy, a tradition that still carried on.
When evening rolled around, it was Remy who suggested they have their sparring session a little earlier than normal. "I aint letting y' get outta it." He teased, laughing at the mock scowl Spencer sent him. "Mais I'd like to get it outta de way so we can have ourselves a nice night together."
That was how Spencer found himself in the comfortable cotton clothes that Remy had bought him to train in, with a training staff in his hand, trying his hardest to remember everything that Remy had taught him. As more time passed, he was getting better and better and he could admit, at least to himself, that he was really starting to enjoy this. However, Remy still kicked his ass nine times out of ten. Kind of like right now. Once more the Cajun managed to knock Spencer to the ground.
Spencer resisted the urge to growl as he pulled himself up off the grass. He also managed to keep from rubbing a hand over his sore backside. However, the look Remy gave him said that his efforts to hide his annoyance had failed. A slow grin spread over his lips and there was laughter dancing in his eyes. He was smart enough not to let that laughter free, though. He just stood there and grinned while Spencer got back to his feet. Then he tossed the man the training staff. Spencer was glad he managed to catch it. It would've really been the icing on the cake to not only be knocked on his ass, but to get hit in the face with a stick when he got back up.
"Y' held out longer dis time." The compliment was delivered in a matter-of-fact voice that, to Spencer, made it more meaningful. Remy didn't hand out false compliments. The Cajun shifted his stance and adjusted his own staff, body ready for the next round. "Again."
When he'd agreed to train with Remy, he hadn't really thought how seriously Remy would take the training. He should've known better. The man was a fighter, a Master Thief, and had been one of the X-Men. It was logical that he took any kind of training seriously. Spencer had tried to warn him that physical combat just wasn't his strong suit. Remy wasn't hearing any of it, though. He just listened and nodded and then had told Spencer that it was all the more reason to do this. So here they were, on yet another night of training. Spencer tried not to grumble while he put his feet in the position that Remy had taught him and he adjusted his grip on the staff. Remy had taken him to a specialty store and helped him pick out a training staff that felt comfortable in his hand. Not too light, not too heavy.
Once more they started to go through their forms and that 'light' staff quickly grew heavy as he tried to defend against Remy's attack. The other man wasn't coming at him all out but he wasn't going soft and easy, either. He scored plenty of strikes against Spencer's arms, his hips, or his legs. Spencer could tell that the Cajun pulled his blows so they wouldn't cause serious damage. Still, he was definitely going to be bruised by the time they were done.
As much as he was coming to care about Remy, right at that moment Spencer was cursing him steadily inside his head. When the staff slapped against his hip, he almost lost his footing. Remy followed it with a steady tap to his shoulder and then to the side of his head. Spencer lost his fight with his balance and ended up dropping down for a minute. He rolled sideways and hopped up, still panting, staff held in a defensive position.
Remy's grin was sharp. "Nice recovery, cher."
The thought that sprang to Spencer's mind in reply wasn't exactly nice. By some small miracle, he managed not to say it. Instead, he just stood, braced and waiting.
"Again." Remy called, moving in with a deadly grace. If the situation hadn't sucked so much, Spencer would have admired the way that Remy moved. As it was, all he could think was 'shit' as Remy came at him. Somehow Spencer managed to make his achy muscles move. But he was beyond tired by now and it didn't take long for Remy to lay him out again. This time Spencer simply lay there, staring up at the slowly darkening sky. He took a deep breath, calling out "I yield."
His chest heaved as he lay there and contemplated uncharacteristically murderous thoughts. Sweet Jesus, but he hurt! He stared at the clouds and tried to relax his body. A shadow fell over him, blocking out the sun for a moment. Spencer turned his head to see Remy squatting there, his staff gone, a small smile on his face. "Y' did bien, Spencer. Y'r getting better and better."
Spencer licked his lips, thinking about what he wanted to say for a minute. Then he sighed and gave up. "Go to hell, Remy."
Laughter danced in Remy's eyes and bubbled out of his throat. The curse didn't bother him in the least bit. "Je sais it seems harsh, mais I promise, y'll learn faster if I don't go easy on y'."
"I ache in places I didn't know could ache." Spencer grumbled. He glared at Remy. "I'm going to be limping at work. How on earth am I supposed to explain that?"
"Any way y' want." The taunt was delivered with a grin and a wink that had Spencer rolling his eyes and smothering a chuckle.
Remy stood up, extending his hands down to him. For just a split second Spencer thought about stubbornly refusing the help. But his mind was already relaxing and a different idea occurred to him. He took hold of Remy's hands and, instead of climbing up, he yanked for all he was worth and brought Remy thumping down on top of him.
Laughter echoed around them in the cooling night air. With a small smile, Spencer wound his arms up and around Remy's neck. "You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?"
Remy laughed and kissed him briefly. "So I've been told."
"Ok, just so we're clear."
Smiling, Spencer lost himself in Remy's kiss. This time when they pulled apart, both were smiling. Remy pulled back and patted his hand against Spencer's chest. "C'mon, cher. Let's get cleaned up and den y' and I are gonna go out, grab a bite to eat, maybe have a few drinks. Den," Once more Remy bent down, letting his lips sit just a breath away from Spencer's. "we'll come back here and I'll give y' y'r dessert. Oui?"
How the hell could a man turn down an offer like that? Spencer was many things, but he wasn't stupid. "Oui." He replied. The grin he got in response told him that his husband was going to make this very, very worth his while.