Author's Note: A memory for Remi and an epiphany for Kurt (for all the good it does him in this particular chapter, where Remi is in full bitch-mode). Probably there'll be at least one more chapter of snarky conversation over dinner before they head over to the Abbey of Misericordia, where the bounty was taken off Jane's head.

I can't believe I actually ran into him here.

Remi buried the unexpected relief she felt at walking by Weller's side, hiding it behind a scowl. She'd just been alone too long, that was all. Even a known foe started to look like a friend after too much isolation.

"Where are you staying?" Weller asked, as they left St. Mark's Square.

Even his voice made her want to press her cheek against his shoulder and close her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? This had to be some sort of weird shit from her lizard-Jane brain. She'd been away from him for ten months and been fine. Now, the second she was back within touching distance of him, she'd started going soft again.

She told him the name of her hotel, offering nothing else. If he thought she'd be participating in small talk just because he'd bargained his way back into her life for the rest of the day, he'd find out he was sorely mistaken.

Weller didn't say anything for a few moments, which piqued her curiosity. She looked over to find a small smile at the corners of his lips. What the hell is he so happy about?

"What?" she asked, through gritted teeth.

"That's where Jane and I stayed when we first visited. I have a room there this time, too."

"Coincidence," Remi told him, rolling her eyes.

He gave a slight shrug. "Maybe. Or maybe you subconsciously chose that hotel because it struck a chord with your memories."

After a few seconds of silence, she sensed he was about to say something else she wouldn't like. She pre-empted him by going on the attack. "The hip flask is a new feature since I last saw you. You been hitting the bottle like your dad?"

Kurt sighed, and though he didn't outwardly react much, she sensed she'd struck a nerve. "Actually, no. Tonight was meant to be a one-off. I was gonna get a little drunk, walk around, remember what I've lost—"

"Cry a little?" Remi added.

Weller looked as though he was biting his tongue. Hope it hurts.

"Then," he continued after a moment, "I was gonna fly back to New York and focus on the job for a while. You remember that, right? Saving lives, stopping corruption? You used to enjoy it."

"You know that was me pretending to be Jane."

"No. That was you. You found meaning in that work. You enjoyed it."

He was right, and Remi hated that. Working with the FBI had felt like her Orion special ops missions—back before she'd realised she and her team were nothing but highly trained, deadly pawns serving the whims of a corrupt government.

The FBI was no different. Sure, she'd enjoyed it for a while. But the bloom would have fallen off that rose eventually, just like what had happened with Orion. She'd have turned around one day and realised she was sowing destruction when she'd thought she was making things better. It was just as well that the ZIP poisoning had put a stop to things when it had, before she'd gotten too invested.

But if the NYO really is as corrupt as the military, Kurt would have realised by now. His whole life has been for the Bureau. He wouldn't stand for it. He'd walk away before he'd do the kind of thing Mayfair did.

"Remi? Where did you just go?" Weller asked softly.

His concern made her want to cry. Instead, she changed the subject. "Where are we supposed to be going? I'm assuming it's someplace you and Jane ate?"

"Not far now."

Weller stopped on a bridge that crossed one of the smaller canals between two areas. Remi got two steps ahead before she realised he was lagging behind. "What are you doing?"

"Enjoying the atmosphere. You should try it. Relax for a second."

Remi gritted her teeth and joined him as he leaned on the stone wall that ran along the edge of the bridge. As she gazed at a speedboat passing underneath, a flicker of a memory hit—another time, and another boat. Weller clinging to the front of it, trying to haul himself from the water onto the craft. The driver had a close-cropped beard and was wearing a cap and sunglasses, obviously having failed to stay incognito. There was one person he could never fool—his sister.

"Roman?" Remi breathed the word rather than spoke it, staring at the spot where the speedboat had been.

Weller was watching her, waiting for her to ask. She almost decided not to, just to spite him—but what if she never fully regained this memory, never knew the context?

"Roman was here with you and Jane?" she said, as casually as she could.

Kurt inclined his head. "Not with us, exactly. But he was the reason we were here that time. You don't remember that? You must have read the Sandstorm file, right? While I was still in the coma?"

"Yeah. But by the time I got to this part, I'd already found out everyone was dead or imprisoned except for Roman. I was having a little difficulty processing." She paused. "I skimmed bits, and maybe the poisoning was affecting my ability to store information. I don't know."

Weller said nothing, just stood upright again and continued in the direction they'd been heading. Remi stifled an exasperated noise and walked quickly to catch up. "What happened here, Kurt? With Roman? Why didn't he just crash the boat into the side of the canal and scrape you off before you could climb up the side?"

He kept walking.

Her fingers itched with the urge to punch him. "Do you want to take a dive into the canal? You made me stick around tonight so I could remember things. You're sabotaging your own cause by withholding information."

"The restaurant is right there." Weller gestured across the square at a cosily lit little eating establishment. "I'll tell you once we've ordered our food."

Remi stared at the restaurant through the deepening twilight. Oh, fuck, no. "I said I'd go to dinner. I didn't say romance, candles and eating the same strand of fucking spaghetti like in Lady and the Tramp."

Weller raised an eyebrow. "Would it really be that bad? You've kissed me before."

A jolt of stunned arousal ran through her, followed swiftly by mortification that she covered with anger. Oh, you just had to bring that up, didn't you? Fine. "Yes, Kurt, I kissed you. Then I made the huge mistake of fucking you before I left you in my dust. Now that we've dredged up past mistakes, let's just move on."

Kurt stared at her like it was the last thing he'd expected her to blurt out, and belatedly she remembered all the times she'd kissed him while she'd been pretending to be Jane. It had been an effective way to derail his focus and diffuse his suspicions, and she'd done it often. He must have been thinking of those relatively chaste duty kisses.

Remi had overreacted to his statement, her mind fixated on the day she'd kissed him as herself, with no pretences or masks between them. Just pure, raw need. And kisses had only been part of what they'd done.

Now he knew her thoughts about kissing him fast-tracked straight to the gutter. She wanted desperately to leave, but she'd already agreed to spend the rest of the evening with him, and he was holding information about Roman over her head. Great work, Briggs.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, he folded his arms and said, "You agreed to do this. You knew we'd be going places we went back then. If you want me to tell you about Roman…"

Remi gave him a big, fake Jane-Doe smile, adding her own murderous edge to it as she muttered, "Let's just get this done."

As Remi stalked past him into the tiny restaurant, Kurt took a split-second to collect his thoughts. He'd expected Remi to be pissed at him about the restaurant—in part because she was adamant that she wasn't even a tiny bit Jane, but also because of the way they'd last collided, which had been the opposite of romantic.

He hadn't anticipated that she'd directly address their sexual encounter, but maybe he should have seen it coming. She'd allowed herself to be cornered for the evening—no doubt her logic was along the lines of the ends justifying the means—but she seemed to have made it her mission to make him uncomfortable tonight, like a trapped animal snarling and clawing in its own defence.

He turned over that thought as he followed her inside. Remi knew he would never put her in physical danger, and she also knew he wouldn't impede her freedom in any way that might have consequences for Jane—unless her freedom would result in worse consequences. Even so, she was acting as though she had to defend herself. What was it about him that she found threatening?

He'd thought a lot about Remi and her motivations since she'd left. That question had few possible answers, and he'd almost decided she must be worried that her returning memories would result in Jane resurfacing. Then he noticed just how tense she was under the friendly attitude she was striving for, and the dread in her eyes when she glanced at him.

Emotional intimacy. She's actually afraid of it.

As they were shown to one of many small tables set for two, the missing piece dropped into place. All this time, he'd been wondering what he'd done to incur Remi's hatred, besides being the one Jane had fallen for. He'd wondered if Shepherd had cultivated that hatred, by accident or by design, over long years of watching him and training her adopted children.

Now he realised that Remi wasn't just angry—she was scared. He'd seen Jane angry, and though it was a strong, genuine emotion that sometimes took time to work through, she'd stayed detached enough from it to deal with it through it with logic, perspective and fairness.

Remi was different. She embraced anger, personified it, didn't care whether it was justified or not, because without it she was vulnerable. She was terrified of anyone getting close to her, and she used attack as her primary defence to stop people from sensing her fear or her perceived weaknesses. From the way Jane had talked about the way Remi had treated Roman, Kurt was guessing that fear even applied to the people she trusted and loved.

The waiter assigned to their table came over, and Kurt vaguely remembered the guy from his first visit here, with Jane. Remi didn't recall, but the waiter clearly remembered her, greeting them both in English before addressing Remi specifically in Italian. They were speaking so fast and fluently that he had no chance of understanding it, so he watched Remi, who was pulling an apologetic face and gesturing to her head as she spoke.

Faced with someone she had no recollection of meeting before, she'd been able to re-establish her equilibrium and pull on her Jane persona—the one he would have seen through much more quickly if not for his own injury and his allowances for Jane's grief over Roman's death. Even though he knew it was an act, it sent a pang of loss through him. Jane had a softness and warmth Remi lacked, but Remi was almost note-perfect in faking it.

The waiter returned to English for Kurt's benefit, sighing. "Head injuries can be nasty. She may not remember me, but I remember the two of you. Newly engaged, wasn't it? Are you married yet?"

Kurt knew the guy meant well, but the answer was so complicated and painful, he didn't know how to answer. A simple truth seemed easiest. "Nearly three years now."

"Ah, yes, I see the rings."

Rings, plural? Kurt's gaze shot to Remi's hand on her menu, and it took all of his willpower to drag his stare away from the wedding ring still sitting on her finger. She's still wearing her ring. Why would she do that, if she didn't even know I'd be here? Is she playing a longer game here? Or is she—?

"Well, time flies. Who knows, next time you come here, I might be married too!" The waiter, oblivious to Kurt's surprise and Remi's discomfort, produced a lighter and lit the three small candles in the brass gondola centrepiece on the table. "What can I get you to drink?"

Before Kurt could say anything, Remi launched into Italian again, asking a question he could vaguely understand was about wine, then gesturing to Kurt with a mildly regretful smile. The look the waiter gave Kurt gave him the feeling the translation would give him the urge to leave the restaurant on his own.

After the waiter made a suggestion Remi agreed to, he departed, leaving them to stare at each other across the table.

"What lies did you tell him, darling?" Kurt asked blandly.

Around them, other couples were enjoying their meals and each other's company, and he was conscious of the fact that these people were making their own treasured memories, similar to the ones he and Jane had shared here. He didn't want to ruin the atmosphere for them, no matter how ugly the conversation with Remi got.

Remi smiled at him over her menu. "I mentioned that we'd like a wine with a low alcohol content, dear, since if you get too wasted you have performance problems in the bedroom."

Kurt closed his eyes and silently counted to five, struggling not to retort. There were so many cheap shots he could take at Remi, but riling her up would only make her claws come out farther, and she might even decide to just get up and leave. He drew on the newfound knowledge that her antagonistic behaviour masked fear, and rose above the desire to wound her with his words, at least for now. She'd already lit his fuse, but it was long, and burning slowly.

He'd be able to be civil to her for a while yet. Even longer, if doing so rattled her.

"Low alcohol is a good idea. You'll probably remember more with a clear head. Are you still eating vegan?"

She shook her head. "That was her thing, not mine."

"Make an exception tonight, in case it triggers anything. Please."

Remi frowned. "Was Jane even vegan when you first came here? Patterson said she started it in Kathmandu."

"Not when we ate here. But she was vegan by the time of that memory you just had." Kurt left it at that. She'd do what she wanted, and she had no reason to adhere to his request beyond selfish ones.

The waiter returned with their wine. While Kurt heroically resisted the urge to correct the misconception Remi had given the guy, Remi again switched to Italian, plucking the menu out of her husband's hands and handing it to the waiter as she spoke.

When they were alone again, Kurt sighed. "You ordered for me?"

Remi gave him an angelic smile. "You said you wanted to eat vegan this time, so I took care of it."

His fuse was a little shorter now. She was playing this as manipulatively as she could, trying to make him lose his cool. She could probably guess that this was tainting his memories of when he'd visited with Jane. If she wanted to fight dirty, he'd match her.

He reached for her left hand across the table, leaned forward and kissed her wedding ring. "Nice to see you're still wearing it. I guess it's too much to hope that you've been keeping to the 'forsaking all others' part of your vows, though?"

Remi's face didn't change, but her expression froze in place and her shoulders rose just a little higher. As soon as she could pull her hand back without causing a scene, she tucked it under the table. "It's surprising how many guys will back off once they think you're some other man's property. I should have started wearing a wedding ring right after high school."

He wondered if that were really the reason, or if sentiment had come into play. Or had she only put it on because she'd known she'd run into him? He had too many questions, and she wouldn't give him straight answers if he asked.

Remi let the barest edge of steel into her voice. "Tell me about Roman."

"Let's make another bargain. You ask a question; I'll answer honestly. Then I get to ask a question, and you have to do the same. An answer for an answer, as many times as we have questions. Does that work for you?"

She fidgeted almost imperceptibly, then said, "Fine. I want my answer first. What happened in this city between Roman and you two?"

It took Kurt almost until their food arrived to relate how they'd ended up in Venice a second time. The clue behind Jane's ear referring to the first day of their engagement. The bell tower. The cell phone and Roman's plan to get the bounty off Jane's head. The chase through the city, on foot and by speedboat, until Roman had ditched Kurt in the open water and made his escape, leaving Jane to rescue Kurt in a second boat.

The whole time, Remi's focus on him was absolute. She drank in every word of knowledge about her brother almost hungrily, though she tried not to look desperate for the information. Despite his irritation with and general antipathy for Remi, Kurt couldn't help but feel for her. Just as Jane had sought to understand her fragmented memories, Remi was also piecing together the out of context images in her mind, although it was Jane's interactions with Roman she was trying to recall.

Kurt stopped before getting to the part where he and Jane had enacted Roman's scheme to collect the bounty for her supposedly dead body. If she wanted to know how the story ended, she'd have to ask for it.

"My turn. What have you remembered of Jane's life since you left the States? Really remembered, not just heard about from outside sources."

Before Remi could reply, the waiter brought their food. For the first time since they'd entered the restaurant, Kurt felt his optimism return as he gazed down at a large plate of vegan lasagne.