Stolen Hearts 6: At the Door
author: Lucinda
rating: pg 13?
pairing: Willow/Remy QPC # if he isn't listed, he should be.
QPC site: http://quickie.moonlightpaths.com
disclaimer: I do not own Willow or anyone else from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I do not own Remy or anyone else from Marvel Comics.
distribution: the archives for any list I send this to, QPC, Twisting the Hellmouth, anyone that asked me for one of my other BtVS/X-Men crossovers that also wants this one.
note: AU from X-Men 350 (the Trial of Gambit) and AU from S5 finale "the Gift" will reference things before those points.
Willow was curled in her chair, leafing through a book about Medieval castles and weaponry. There was an excellent chapter on swords, and she couldn't read it without remembering the sound of Giles' voice, explaining to Buffy again why it was important to clean the weapons... Buffy's favorite sword hung on the wall over the fireplace, lovingly polished. She'd finally gotten to a point where her throat didn't get tight every time she looked at it, every time she was reminded of Buffy.
Her doorbell rang just as she felt a presence outside, someone that had some manner of link, a connection to her. She could feel a faint tug towards the person... As it was a sunny afternoon, she knew that it couldn't be Angel. Which meant that it had to be Remy.
Opening the door, she smiled at him. "Remy. Nice day, isn't it?"
"Think it just got better. Do I still get a gold star?" He smiled at her, his tone flirting. "Thought maybe we could talk here, a place where nobody be listening to us."
Ooo... gold star for Remy. She'd almost forgotten that invitation. "I suppose I can find you one. Although it might be easier to find some Girl-Scout cookies... the saddest looking little girl came by trying to sell them. Cute as a button and entirely blue from head to toe. I ended up buying twenty boxes from the poor dear."
Remy chuckled, no doubt amused by the image. "What type o' cookies did you buy?"
"Thin Mints, and the chocolate chip ones, and the ones with the coconut on the top. Yummy. Hah! Cookies and stars." She turned back to look at him, smiling a bit until she saw his stunned expression. "Remy? You're... doing a great fish impersonation. What's wrong?"
"Den it's real. I had a dream 'bout you getting cookies... an' fighting a group of vampires in a park. Wasn't sure those were really what was happening..." Remy shook his head, smiling at the shiny gold foil star sticker.
Willow let out a small laugh that was devoid of amusement. "Let me show you something then." With a gesture, she floated the Sketchbook of Remy's Memories over to him. "Open up and look. You should be able to recognize them since Angel helped me become a decent artist."
He looked through the sketches, looking amazed and shocked. "You got... this is my life. How...?"
Willow sat back in her comfortable chair with a sigh. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's your fault. Something happened when you kissed me... made a connection. And it appears that this connection seems to have put a sort of back door into our memories."
For a moment, Remy looked like he was about to protest. Then, he looked back at the pages in front of him and sighed. "Maybe it is my fault. That make you mad at Remy?"
She could feel the tangled emotions churning inside him. "Not really mad at you. I was a bit freaked out at first. There I was, dreaming someone else's past, and I got these recipes for spicy food that I've never even eaten before and now I know how to cook it... But no, I'm not mad at you. And really, it's not even close to the worst that's happened to me. Okay, I've got some sort of weird mental link thingy with a cute cajun guy with scary nightmares and a taste for really spicy food... It could be worse."
"Not mad? Last time someone got a look into Remy's memories..." He shivered, looking suddenly haunted.
Willow looked at him, eyes flashing. "I am not mad at you. Granted, you occasionally made a few bad choices, but everyone makes mistakes. And if I ever get my hands on that Rogue woman... there are a few choice hexes that I could use on her. Dropping you out there like that... grrr. And I've seen far worse. Especially when I was in Sunnydale, remember?"
"T'ings in Sunnydale weren't worse than Sinister." Remy sounded almost ill, looking paler than usual.
"Yeah, he is really sick and violently twisted, like a puzzle maze that's been crumpled... umm, not the point. He may be really twisted and sick, but you aren't. That's the difference. It wasn't you doing those things... I've seen your memories, I know that. You were a pawn, which sort of sucks, but that doesn't make it your fault." Willow got up, walking over to where Remy was perched. Dropping onto the couch next to him, she leaned against his arm. "I sort of like having you around."
One arm moved slightly, encircling her. "Maybe I stay then. Maybe we can... go to dinner again? Or a movie."
Willow snuggled closer to Remy, her arm slipping behind his back. "Sounds good to me. Does this make it official? Are we now dating?"
Remy moved slightly, pulling her onto his lap. "I like de sound of that, chere. You like any of those spicy dishes I can make?"
Willow giggled slightly, amused at the question. He smelled nice, and it was rather pleasant to be leaning against him. "I think so... I tried to make the catfish, but I accidentally burned it."
"Not afraid of having a mutant thief for a boyfriend?" His words were almost teasing, but she could feel the thread of worry.
"You'll be my third serious relationship. My first was with a werewolf guitar player for a band, and my second was the lesbian witch, remember? I have come to the conclusion that I simply don't do normal. You fit wonderfully." She smiled at him, wondering how someone so charming and sexy could also be so insecure.
"But what if someone tries to hurt you because of me?" He looked so worried at the idea.
Willow grinned. "Then I turn them into a rat and sell them to the pet store." Leaning forward, she kissed him, tasting spices. "I'm not afraid of your past. Now stop worrying and kiss me."
There were no more worries voiced that evening.
end At the Door.
author: Lucinda
rating: pg 13?
pairing: Willow/Remy QPC # if he isn't listed, he should be.
QPC site: http://quickie.moonlightpaths.com
disclaimer: I do not own Willow or anyone else from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I do not own Remy or anyone else from Marvel Comics.
distribution: the archives for any list I send this to, QPC, Twisting the Hellmouth, anyone that asked me for one of my other BtVS/X-Men crossovers that also wants this one.
note: AU from X-Men 350 (the Trial of Gambit) and AU from S5 finale "the Gift" will reference things before those points.
Willow was curled in her chair, leafing through a book about Medieval castles and weaponry. There was an excellent chapter on swords, and she couldn't read it without remembering the sound of Giles' voice, explaining to Buffy again why it was important to clean the weapons... Buffy's favorite sword hung on the wall over the fireplace, lovingly polished. She'd finally gotten to a point where her throat didn't get tight every time she looked at it, every time she was reminded of Buffy.
Her doorbell rang just as she felt a presence outside, someone that had some manner of link, a connection to her. She could feel a faint tug towards the person... As it was a sunny afternoon, she knew that it couldn't be Angel. Which meant that it had to be Remy.
Opening the door, she smiled at him. "Remy. Nice day, isn't it?"
"Think it just got better. Do I still get a gold star?" He smiled at her, his tone flirting. "Thought maybe we could talk here, a place where nobody be listening to us."
Ooo... gold star for Remy. She'd almost forgotten that invitation. "I suppose I can find you one. Although it might be easier to find some Girl-Scout cookies... the saddest looking little girl came by trying to sell them. Cute as a button and entirely blue from head to toe. I ended up buying twenty boxes from the poor dear."
Remy chuckled, no doubt amused by the image. "What type o' cookies did you buy?"
"Thin Mints, and the chocolate chip ones, and the ones with the coconut on the top. Yummy. Hah! Cookies and stars." She turned back to look at him, smiling a bit until she saw his stunned expression. "Remy? You're... doing a great fish impersonation. What's wrong?"
"Den it's real. I had a dream 'bout you getting cookies... an' fighting a group of vampires in a park. Wasn't sure those were really what was happening..." Remy shook his head, smiling at the shiny gold foil star sticker.
Willow let out a small laugh that was devoid of amusement. "Let me show you something then." With a gesture, she floated the Sketchbook of Remy's Memories over to him. "Open up and look. You should be able to recognize them since Angel helped me become a decent artist."
He looked through the sketches, looking amazed and shocked. "You got... this is my life. How...?"
Willow sat back in her comfortable chair with a sigh. "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's your fault. Something happened when you kissed me... made a connection. And it appears that this connection seems to have put a sort of back door into our memories."
For a moment, Remy looked like he was about to protest. Then, he looked back at the pages in front of him and sighed. "Maybe it is my fault. That make you mad at Remy?"
She could feel the tangled emotions churning inside him. "Not really mad at you. I was a bit freaked out at first. There I was, dreaming someone else's past, and I got these recipes for spicy food that I've never even eaten before and now I know how to cook it... But no, I'm not mad at you. And really, it's not even close to the worst that's happened to me. Okay, I've got some sort of weird mental link thingy with a cute cajun guy with scary nightmares and a taste for really spicy food... It could be worse."
"Not mad? Last time someone got a look into Remy's memories..." He shivered, looking suddenly haunted.
Willow looked at him, eyes flashing. "I am not mad at you. Granted, you occasionally made a few bad choices, but everyone makes mistakes. And if I ever get my hands on that Rogue woman... there are a few choice hexes that I could use on her. Dropping you out there like that... grrr. And I've seen far worse. Especially when I was in Sunnydale, remember?"
"T'ings in Sunnydale weren't worse than Sinister." Remy sounded almost ill, looking paler than usual.
"Yeah, he is really sick and violently twisted, like a puzzle maze that's been crumpled... umm, not the point. He may be really twisted and sick, but you aren't. That's the difference. It wasn't you doing those things... I've seen your memories, I know that. You were a pawn, which sort of sucks, but that doesn't make it your fault." Willow got up, walking over to where Remy was perched. Dropping onto the couch next to him, she leaned against his arm. "I sort of like having you around."
One arm moved slightly, encircling her. "Maybe I stay then. Maybe we can... go to dinner again? Or a movie."
Willow snuggled closer to Remy, her arm slipping behind his back. "Sounds good to me. Does this make it official? Are we now dating?"
Remy moved slightly, pulling her onto his lap. "I like de sound of that, chere. You like any of those spicy dishes I can make?"
Willow giggled slightly, amused at the question. He smelled nice, and it was rather pleasant to be leaning against him. "I think so... I tried to make the catfish, but I accidentally burned it."
"Not afraid of having a mutant thief for a boyfriend?" His words were almost teasing, but she could feel the thread of worry.
"You'll be my third serious relationship. My first was with a werewolf guitar player for a band, and my second was the lesbian witch, remember? I have come to the conclusion that I simply don't do normal. You fit wonderfully." She smiled at him, wondering how someone so charming and sexy could also be so insecure.
"But what if someone tries to hurt you because of me?" He looked so worried at the idea.
Willow grinned. "Then I turn them into a rat and sell them to the pet store." Leaning forward, she kissed him, tasting spices. "I'm not afraid of your past. Now stop worrying and kiss me."
There were no more worries voiced that evening.
end At the Door.
