Chapter 25
Remy was still fast asleep when Betsy woke up once again. They had shifted at some point during their nap and now lay on their sides, facing each other, one of her legs still wrapped around his hip. Laying there, watching him sleep, she felt content, protective, and protected. She had become very close to him a very short time. Of course, they had drawn close when he was vulnerable and she was happy to seem him growing stronger, fighting for himself, now, as well as others. He would not need her soon and they would begin to grow apart, become just friends at most. She was surprised that thought hurt. Perhaps it was the fact that it had felt good to be needed. Maybe she would miss the easy affection he showed her, always touching, holding, teasing. Neither she nor any of her other lovers had been as free and open with their affection. It was surprising, new, and very nice. Would he still hug her, wrap his arm around her as they walked together, when they were only friends?
Her mind cruelly taunted her with the words he had said before, 'Je vous aimer', and earlier, 'ma coeur': I love you, my heart. The words inspired hopes and feelings that she had not acknowledged. Why had she believed in him? The answer came to her suddenly and unwelcome. Why did she believe in him? She loved him. He was intelligent and fun, self-controlled and passionate, wild and cultured. He was a mass of contradictions, having many facets and she enjoyed each one. Going to the bar and the club with him had been fun. Discussing fine art with him had been challenging. Confiding in him had been easy. So, what was she to do?
Simple. She would be his friend and, maybe, it would grow into something stronger, maybe his words were real. However it ended though, she would wait for him to decide if he meant his words that continued to taunt her or if they had been said in misplaced gratitude. She would not tell him of her love, influence him when he was at his weakest. Because whatever he decided, she would be there for him as a friend, just as she had promised.
His breathing changed and Remy opened his eyes slowly, with a content sigh. His eyes were soft like banked coals and he smiled at her as he moved to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Chere."
She returned his smile. "How do you feel?"
"Bien, merci." He pulled her close and nuzzled lightly at her neck, not with passion but simple affection.
Betsy relaxed further under the light touch, enjoying the closeness. Unfortunately, the shadows across the room said the day was wearing on and it would soon be time to face the others again.
She was about to mention this when he suprised her. He did not mean to but his words did anyway. "Like sleepin' in dis room. Only place Remy slept good in don' know how long." He looked into her wide eyes and laughed silently. "Is true."
She smiled and lightly stroked his hair as he returned his attention to her bare shoulders. "I am glad. Unfortunately, we need to get up soon. It is afternoon and you need to make a decision."
His nuzzling stilled but he kept his face buried against her neck. *Oui. Does Henri tell dem 'bout de implant or no.*
"Yes."
*Chere, I don' know. Like to t'ink it make 'em happy, knowin' Remy didn' do it but den what does Remy do? Make nice wit' dem, like none of dis happened? Like de didn' like or trust me enough not to let me die, to find de truth? 'Sides, don' t'ink it make any difference. T'ink some of dem only fin' somet'ing else to be mad at Remy for. Warren probably just say Remy still under Sinister's control or dat it was planted, dat it proves Remy served Sinister willingly.*
His body was tensing with each passing moment as his emotions and thoughts became darker, harsher. Betsy held him closer, rubbing his back, whispering to him soothingly. He was angry and she could not blame him.
*Dey didn' come back for Remy 'nd if Remy remin' dem of dat...dey gonna wonder how Remy got out.* He was very tense and even the link was awash once again in fear.
Betsy wrapped herself more firmly around him, holding him tightly. She had wondered more than once how he had gotten out of Antartica alive but had not wanted to ask, to pry, trusting him to tell her when he was ready.
Remy was silent for a long time. *Dey wouldn' like 'ow Remy got out 'nd Remy can' tell dem.*
Betsy nodded. Her curiousity was burning but she was not going to push him. Whatever reason he had for keeping it a secret, it would be a valid one and it would not, she was certain, have anything to do with Sinister.
Remy pulled back and looked down at her searchingly. "You don' t'ink it was Sinister." It was not a question and it was said with a kind of awe. "'Nd you not gonna ask. You trust Remy." He kissed her softly. "Remy already told ya de anwer to de mystery."
Betsy looked up at him in confusion, his face so near hers their noses almost touched. She could see the laughter dancing in his eyes and could not help joining in it. He wanted her to ask, she could tell, and her curiousity was increased by his cryptic statements. "I admit it. I want to know how you escaped and I can not figure it out."
*'Member what Remy told ya 'bout de guild child'en?*
*Yes.* Betsy responed mentally, knowing that this was not something to be discussed out loud if there was a chance to be overheard.
His eyes sparkled in amusement. *Jus' 'cause Remy's exiled don' mean his papa don' check up on 'im.*
Understanding dawned on her and she laughed. *The guild pulled you out?*
*Oui. Tante had a dream dat Remy in tres trouble. She tell papa 'nd he send help. Still can' return to N'Awlins so de bring Remy to de only ot'er place he called home.*
*I am surprised they would bring you to people who tried to kill you.*
Remy's smile faltered and became bittersweet. *Dey didn' want to but de Assassins know if Remy come back home 'nd der was nowhere else safe. 'Owever, dey been keepin' tabs on dis Cajun. Papa said dat if Remy show up in Antartica 'gain, Remy be livin' in dis mansion alone.*
Betsy knew that many people would think it laughable that a group of thieves thought they could destroy the X-men but she was not so sure. Either way, she was glad it had not come down to that.
"But, Remy still need ta decide. Tell dem 'bout the chip or non."
"There is no guarantee that it will help the situation but I think it would relieve Ororo and some of them. Besides, the information that Sinister is capable of it could be useful in the future, something to watch for."
He nodded slowly kissing her once again. Both their eyes remained closed as their lips parted and he leaned his forehead against hers. "Der somet'ing else Remy wanna talk to you 'bout. Wanna get dis settled 'nd Remy understan' whatever you say."
Betsy tensed in nervous anticipation, knowing that Remy was feeling the same. Whatever was coming did not sound good. Her hands slowly rubbed his sides lightly, giving and taking comfort, perhaps, from the sound of it, for the last time.
"We frien's now, no matter what, right?"
"Yes."
"Remy'll always be der for you."
Betsy tried to swallow the lump in her throat, fearing he was saying good bye. "I know. I will always be there for you as well."
"Remy knows. Remy remembers what he told ya las' night." Betsy froze in fear of his next words. "Want ya ta know, it wasn' a lie. Je vous aimer. I love ya."
Betsy opened her mouth to say something, to point out that he was vulnerable right now. He should not be making decisions like this right now. She wanted to say all that but he sensed her intentions and covered her lips with his hand.
"Non, listen. Yes, Remy been hurtin' 'nd real grateful you come 'nd help. Dat's not when de love started. Like t'touch you, taste you, but dat's not when de love start. It start when we talkin' bout art, 'bout our families, 'bout Sinister 'nd Slaymaster. Been growin' when Remy's happy 'nd been strong when Remy's hurtin'. 'M not askin' for forever but I wanna be wit' you, talk t'you, make love t'you, nd wake up wit' you. It's up to you. Remy be your frien', lover, or man. Your choice." He removed his hand to allow her to speak, his fingers trailing down her cheek. His eyes opened in surprise to find her staring up at him, eyes wet with tears. "Shhh, Chere, don' cry."
This time it was Betsy who brought up a hand to quiet speech. "I want all three. I love you."
No other words were possible as his mouth quickly found hers and the bed rocked beneath them as they made love once again.
Remy was still fast asleep when Betsy woke up once again. They had shifted at some point during their nap and now lay on their sides, facing each other, one of her legs still wrapped around his hip. Laying there, watching him sleep, she felt content, protective, and protected. She had become very close to him a very short time. Of course, they had drawn close when he was vulnerable and she was happy to seem him growing stronger, fighting for himself, now, as well as others. He would not need her soon and they would begin to grow apart, become just friends at most. She was surprised that thought hurt. Perhaps it was the fact that it had felt good to be needed. Maybe she would miss the easy affection he showed her, always touching, holding, teasing. Neither she nor any of her other lovers had been as free and open with their affection. It was surprising, new, and very nice. Would he still hug her, wrap his arm around her as they walked together, when they were only friends?
Her mind cruelly taunted her with the words he had said before, 'Je vous aimer', and earlier, 'ma coeur': I love you, my heart. The words inspired hopes and feelings that she had not acknowledged. Why had she believed in him? The answer came to her suddenly and unwelcome. Why did she believe in him? She loved him. He was intelligent and fun, self-controlled and passionate, wild and cultured. He was a mass of contradictions, having many facets and she enjoyed each one. Going to the bar and the club with him had been fun. Discussing fine art with him had been challenging. Confiding in him had been easy. So, what was she to do?
Simple. She would be his friend and, maybe, it would grow into something stronger, maybe his words were real. However it ended though, she would wait for him to decide if he meant his words that continued to taunt her or if they had been said in misplaced gratitude. She would not tell him of her love, influence him when he was at his weakest. Because whatever he decided, she would be there for him as a friend, just as she had promised.
His breathing changed and Remy opened his eyes slowly, with a content sigh. His eyes were soft like banked coals and he smiled at her as he moved to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Chere."
She returned his smile. "How do you feel?"
"Bien, merci." He pulled her close and nuzzled lightly at her neck, not with passion but simple affection.
Betsy relaxed further under the light touch, enjoying the closeness. Unfortunately, the shadows across the room said the day was wearing on and it would soon be time to face the others again.
She was about to mention this when he suprised her. He did not mean to but his words did anyway. "Like sleepin' in dis room. Only place Remy slept good in don' know how long." He looked into her wide eyes and laughed silently. "Is true."
She smiled and lightly stroked his hair as he returned his attention to her bare shoulders. "I am glad. Unfortunately, we need to get up soon. It is afternoon and you need to make a decision."
His nuzzling stilled but he kept his face buried against her neck. *Oui. Does Henri tell dem 'bout de implant or no.*
"Yes."
*Chere, I don' know. Like to t'ink it make 'em happy, knowin' Remy didn' do it but den what does Remy do? Make nice wit' dem, like none of dis happened? Like de didn' like or trust me enough not to let me die, to find de truth? 'Sides, don' t'ink it make any difference. T'ink some of dem only fin' somet'ing else to be mad at Remy for. Warren probably just say Remy still under Sinister's control or dat it was planted, dat it proves Remy served Sinister willingly.*
His body was tensing with each passing moment as his emotions and thoughts became darker, harsher. Betsy held him closer, rubbing his back, whispering to him soothingly. He was angry and she could not blame him.
*Dey didn' come back for Remy 'nd if Remy remin' dem of dat...dey gonna wonder how Remy got out.* He was very tense and even the link was awash once again in fear.
Betsy wrapped herself more firmly around him, holding him tightly. She had wondered more than once how he had gotten out of Antartica alive but had not wanted to ask, to pry, trusting him to tell her when he was ready.
Remy was silent for a long time. *Dey wouldn' like 'ow Remy got out 'nd Remy can' tell dem.*
Betsy nodded. Her curiousity was burning but she was not going to push him. Whatever reason he had for keeping it a secret, it would be a valid one and it would not, she was certain, have anything to do with Sinister.
Remy pulled back and looked down at her searchingly. "You don' t'ink it was Sinister." It was not a question and it was said with a kind of awe. "'Nd you not gonna ask. You trust Remy." He kissed her softly. "Remy already told ya de anwer to de mystery."
Betsy looked up at him in confusion, his face so near hers their noses almost touched. She could see the laughter dancing in his eyes and could not help joining in it. He wanted her to ask, she could tell, and her curiousity was increased by his cryptic statements. "I admit it. I want to know how you escaped and I can not figure it out."
*'Member what Remy told ya 'bout de guild child'en?*
*Yes.* Betsy responed mentally, knowing that this was not something to be discussed out loud if there was a chance to be overheard.
His eyes sparkled in amusement. *Jus' 'cause Remy's exiled don' mean his papa don' check up on 'im.*
Understanding dawned on her and she laughed. *The guild pulled you out?*
*Oui. Tante had a dream dat Remy in tres trouble. She tell papa 'nd he send help. Still can' return to N'Awlins so de bring Remy to de only ot'er place he called home.*
*I am surprised they would bring you to people who tried to kill you.*
Remy's smile faltered and became bittersweet. *Dey didn' want to but de Assassins know if Remy come back home 'nd der was nowhere else safe. 'Owever, dey been keepin' tabs on dis Cajun. Papa said dat if Remy show up in Antartica 'gain, Remy be livin' in dis mansion alone.*
Betsy knew that many people would think it laughable that a group of thieves thought they could destroy the X-men but she was not so sure. Either way, she was glad it had not come down to that.
"But, Remy still need ta decide. Tell dem 'bout the chip or non."
"There is no guarantee that it will help the situation but I think it would relieve Ororo and some of them. Besides, the information that Sinister is capable of it could be useful in the future, something to watch for."
He nodded slowly kissing her once again. Both their eyes remained closed as their lips parted and he leaned his forehead against hers. "Der somet'ing else Remy wanna talk to you 'bout. Wanna get dis settled 'nd Remy understan' whatever you say."
Betsy tensed in nervous anticipation, knowing that Remy was feeling the same. Whatever was coming did not sound good. Her hands slowly rubbed his sides lightly, giving and taking comfort, perhaps, from the sound of it, for the last time.
"We frien's now, no matter what, right?"
"Yes."
"Remy'll always be der for you."
Betsy tried to swallow the lump in her throat, fearing he was saying good bye. "I know. I will always be there for you as well."
"Remy knows. Remy remembers what he told ya las' night." Betsy froze in fear of his next words. "Want ya ta know, it wasn' a lie. Je vous aimer. I love ya."
Betsy opened her mouth to say something, to point out that he was vulnerable right now. He should not be making decisions like this right now. She wanted to say all that but he sensed her intentions and covered her lips with his hand.
"Non, listen. Yes, Remy been hurtin' 'nd real grateful you come 'nd help. Dat's not when de love started. Like t'touch you, taste you, but dat's not when de love start. It start when we talkin' bout art, 'bout our families, 'bout Sinister 'nd Slaymaster. Been growin' when Remy's happy 'nd been strong when Remy's hurtin'. 'M not askin' for forever but I wanna be wit' you, talk t'you, make love t'you, nd wake up wit' you. It's up to you. Remy be your frien', lover, or man. Your choice." He removed his hand to allow her to speak, his fingers trailing down her cheek. His eyes opened in surprise to find her staring up at him, eyes wet with tears. "Shhh, Chere, don' cry."
This time it was Betsy who brought up a hand to quiet speech. "I want all three. I love you."
No other words were possible as his mouth quickly found hers and the bed rocked beneath them as they made love once again.