Written for: marvelfanuniverse. May 20th, 2018 Remy/Beth, "Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I'll give it back."

Going to Atlantic City for Beth's 25th birthday had seemed like a great idea on paper. So far, it was good in practice, too. Sure, she hadn't won more than five dollars at the slots and the less said about her poker skills the better, but the food was good and there were at least a few hot guys roaming the casinos.

One of them she was fairly certain was a romance novel cover come to life. There was simply no other way she could fathom anyone that attractive existing in the real world. Even stranger was the number of glances he'd sent her way since she sat down at the blackjack table next to his. She'd kept her head down since she first noticed him, assuming he was looking at someone behind her. It was nice to think she was the one who'd caught his attention, but while Beth wasn't ugly, she was no beauty queen either. That guy, whoever he was, was so far out of her league they weren't even playing the same game. He was playing major league baseball. She was playing stickball in an old vacant lot.

After hitting on seventeen and getting a six, Beth took her remaining chips and decided to grab some more shrimp cocktails at the buffet. Her mystery man had vanished. Perhaps he had never been there at all. Just her sex hungry brain playing tricks on her. It had been a while since her and her ex split up.

Counting her chips proved less than encouraging. She was down to a third of what she'd come in with.

'Started from the bottom, now I'm lower,' she snorted to herself. 'And here I thought 25 was my lucky number.'

As she walked, she passed a group of men in suits and sunglasses. They paid her no mind, but talked among themselves in hushed voices she'd have to strain to hear. Had this been an isolated incident, Beth wouldn't have given it more than a second's thought, but with identical men in black loitering at all the exits, she was starting to think she should've tried the Tropicana.

'They're just security guards,' she told herself. It would've been a perfect explanation if not for her gut feeling that these guys were trouble.

To avoid getting caught in any potential crossfire, Beth stuck to large crowds and put as much space between herself and the men as possible. The buffet was in sight and only a few tables were empty. There were no scary secret agent guys getting food at the moment and she breathed a little easier.

She kept an eye out for them, completely missing the man standing stock still in her path. Running into him was like hitting a brick wall. He didn't move an inch as Beth grasped around for leverage. The next thing she knew, he'd spun around with inhuman speed and caught one of her hands. He held on as she regained her balance. By then, Beth had recognized him as her mystery man from the poker table.

"Uh…" she stammered, "th-thanks."

He smiled. "My pleasure, Chère."

Oh God, his voice was like liquid chocolate. There should be a law against one person being so hot in so many ways.

Before Beth could answer and possibly hear more of that sinful baritone, his attention turned to something over her shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and seemed to glow in the harsh light of the casino.

"Are you-" He dragged her away from the crowd before she could say 'okay'.

"I offer you my sincerest apologies," he said urgently, "but can I borrow a kiss?"

"Wha-" was all she got out before pulled her into his powerful embrace.

He didn't kiss like he said, but hovered his lips over hers, their foreheads touching and their breath mingling. He smelled like fancy cologne and felt like he was made of cast iron. Beth's hands were frozen on his biceps and she wanted so bad to drag them along his arms. Over his shoulder, she saw ten men in black walk by. They didn't spare the 'lovebirds' a second glance and kept moving. Her mystery man backed off as soon as they were gone.

"They are following me," he muttered.

"Um..." Beth couldn't get much more out than that. Her head was spinning, her body crying out from the loss of his touch.

He pushed open the emergency door, which she just now realized was there. "You should go, chère. There will be a mass evacuation in less than two minutes. I would hate for such a lovely woman to be trampled."

He winked and coaxed Beth outside, then shut the door behind her. It didn't have a handle on the other side. Beth stared at the door, wanting to pry it open with her bare hands, but also thinking she should go back to her room, take a cold shower, and slip into bed with her good friend B.O.B.

That was before gunshots pierced the night, followed by blaring sirens and screams as people rushed for the exits. Beth avoided getting trampled as the doors flung open. Out came a hundred panicking tourists, their money and souvenirs abandoned. She followed them away from the casino as a dozen police cars and the SWAT team showed up. That was the last Beth saw before the police cleared the area. That and the silhouette of a single man inside the casino, fighting a group of men by himself and winning.

Beth made it back to the hotel in one piece and immediately went for the TV. Every news station was reporting on the Casino attack, but no one seemed to know for sure what had happened.

'So far, no suspects or motive for the bombing have been released to the public. Stay tuned for more updates here on-'

"It wasn't a bombing," Beth muttered as she changed the channel. "That was textbook superhero stuff."

She was from Manhattan. She was an expert on these things.

The next day, Beth took breakfast in the lobby. Her limited funds meant she had to settle for a cheaper hotel on the outskirts of the city, but at least they had good coffee. The daily newspapers screamed about the big casino fight, but skimming the articles revealed they were as clueless as anyone else.

Beth had finished her coffee when a long, dark shadow appeared over her. "May I join you?"

Her heart stopped. She didn't dare believe it, but that voice was unmistakable. "I… I mean…"

Her mystery man, as beautiful in the light of day as he'd been in the dark of night, smiled at her. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, I- I just…" Beth paused to gather her thoughts. "I don't know who you are."

That came out much harsher than she intended, but the man just chuckled. "Of course. Where are my manners?" He held out a hand. "Remy LeBeau. A pleasure to meet you."

She took his hand slowly, worried for a second that something might come out of it like fire or some kind of energy blast. "Beth Jackson. Nice to meet you, too. Are you a guest here?"

"For now," he said cryptically. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. I hope I didn't scare you."

"Not at all," Beth said, which wasn't entirely true, but they could argue semantics later. "I'm glad you got out okay. It looks something really bad happened."

He hummed thoughtfully and took a seat across from her. There was something strange about his eyes that she couldn't quite place. Or maybe that was just her looking for an excuse to stare into them.

"If you'd allow it, I'd like to make it up to you. May I take you to lunch?"

'This has got to be a dream,' Beth thought. She discreetly pinched herself on the arm, but somehow, she didn't wake up on her rickety cot back home in Midtown. That meant this sinfully charming and gorgeous French guy was both real and really asking her out on a date.

Come to think about it, how did he know she'd be at this hotel? And how did he know the casino would be attacked yesterday?

That man she saw fighting all those bad guys by himself. Could it be... nah.

"I'd love to," Beth said. "I mean, if you really want to."

His grin was utterly sinful. "I want nothing more, Chère."