Requiem for Vincent

By V.Valentine

Chapter 8

Lament of a Queen

A/N: Sorry everyone, I know I haven't updated in a while. But I got a sweet job at Nintendo and I've been abnormally busy. But here's the next chapter, hope you all like it. As always, standard disclaimers apply. Read and Review!

I am seriously unimpressed by these people.

These are Vincent's friends? I cannot stand to think that my husband would converse with these people. Vincent was a professional, these are just mercenaries.

Not to mention that I don't like what these people are thinking. They don't know it, but I'm inside each and every one of their heads right now, reading their thoughts and getting information from all of them.

The supposed leader of this group is about as dense as a brick. Enough said.

The bar waitress had better learn to keep the thoughts of my husband to herself, or otherwise I'll show her that Vincent taught me more than she thinks.

The man named Barret was off on his own tangent. That's a forest I don't want to wander into.

The beast seems like the only civilized person here, and that's not saying a lot. Still, of all people here, he at least is contemplative and respectful.

The young ninja. Young stupid love. Idealistic and hopeful. God, I just want wipe her mind clean right now.

The pilot. I sense deep sorrow from him. I'm sorry to have had to meet him under these circumstances.

And the Mayor. On Earth, he'd be considered nothing better than a Star Trek fan boy who lives in his mother's basement.

Oh, what am I saying? I shouldn't be angry at these people. No matter what they may be thinking, the fact is we're all grieving. Just in different ways I suppose.

Vincent wouldn't want me to angry about them anyways. As much as he respects me, and would want them to respect me, he'd also want me to respect them. Because we're just two different chapters of his life.

But by no mistake will I roll over and say I'm not angry. I'm furious. I'm angry at everything that took my darling away.

I was there on the mission that Vincent was sent on. I was there when Apocalypse blasted a hole through his chest and scattered his remains across the cavern wall.

I was there when I tried to keep him alive with the use of my powers, trying to link his mind with mine, and fooling him to think he still had all of his organs.

And I was there when Nick Fury told me at the SHIELD hospital that he wouldn't survive.

And that he was dead.

I nearly opened up the hospital with the extent of my powers when the rage washed over me.

Vincent was the only person to see the real me. And when I say the real me, I mean the me that secretly sneaks down into the kitchen on Saturday nights and eats cookie dough straight out of the package.

Vincent saw the real me on several occasions. The first time that I knew that I was in love with him, was not anything near my best moment.

Betsy Braddock was getting married, again, and it was just the women from the house of Xavier getting drunk and having a bachorlette party.

Suffice to say we had way too much to drink, and I had the bright idea to get up on the table, with my face in a manicure mask, and then start singing along to some god awful song.

And there I was, after my eighth glass of champagne, rocking out to Pat Benetar on a table with my face covered in green goop.

When I saw Vincent looking to me from the entranceway of the room in the outside lobby.

I stopped, everyone else stopped as well, looking to Vincent standing in the hallway.

Without saying a word, Vincent makes his way through the girls, politely making his way through the group and finally reaching me, still on the table with my face wide and open like a codfish.

He just looked me over for a second, and then moved around me to take a full on look at me, before reaching the front of me again.

And in one swift motion, he takes my hand in his and gently kisses the top of my hand with a feather light kiss. And once it was over, his crimson eyes looked straight into my own.

And without missing a beat, Vincent opens his mouth. "You look good in Green." Vincent says, before making his way off the table, through the group of girls again, and then out the door.

And that's when I knew I was falling for him. Because he could have laughed, he could have gawked at me, the White Queen, drunk on a table top dancing away.

But he didn't. He was the perfect gentleman.

Of course, if he ever wanted the advantage in an argument between us two, all he would have to do is whiste "Love is a Battlefield" and he would instantly be under my skin.

It's times like those that I will always hate him.

But it's times like those I would always love him as well.

Goodnight, Vincent. May whatever God you worship grant you peace. I'll join you there someday, my friend, confidant and king.

I love you.