Author's Note: Finally, finally got around to the Reller smut! And before anyone says it - yes, I'm perfectly aware that Kurt would never actually have sex with Remi, and he probably would consider it cheating on Jane. But I don't care, because they had such amazing chemistry. So deal with it. :D
When he got Patterson's silent text that the camera at the foot of the dirt road showed two SUVs full of people had headed their way—Eve at the wheel of one of them—Kurt signalled the information to Remi. She responded with hand signals indicating that they should divide and conquer, rather than wait to be overwhelmed, and he nodded, fitting the mobile comms earpiece in his ear and waiting for Remi to do the same.
"You got me?" he asked softly, testing the equipment.
Remi didn't bother with a direct reply, her voice dry in his ear. "Try not to trigger your own tripwires," she told him, and ducked out of the back door.
He saw her move past the shattered window she'd been firing through, and sent up a silent prayer to any deity that would listen to keep his wife safe out there. Then he kicked open the front door, taking up a position just inside it as a storm of gunfire let him know he wasn't alone.
"Weller!" Eve's voice was biting. "We don't care about you. We just want your wife. Seems she's not quite herself recently, so you must be on the verge of filing for divorce. Why not just shove her out here and let us get going?"
"I heard that," Remi's voice said in his ear, sounding almost amused. "That's quite an offer. Maybe you should take it."
"You kidding me? You'd come back in six months as the right hand of the head of the Dabbur Zann. I don't need that kind of headache." Kurt raised his voice so Eve could hear. "She's my problem to deal with. And the FBI doesn't negotiate with terrorists."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Eve sounded dismissive. "Fan out, people. Capture the woman. Kill the man."
It was a relief to know they wouldn't be shooting Remi to kill. Still…
"Why do you want her? She's responsible for your Dabbur Zann trouble, but they don't care about that. They want their money, not the person who took it."
"You want them to be aiming for my head?" Remi said incredulously, through his earpiece.
"No," he murmured back, moving to cover beside the window to get eyes on Eve. She looked more stressed than she had the day before. Maybe the fake babysitter he'd blown up last night had been a friend. "But I do want to know if the Dabbur Zann are gonna keep sending people after you once we take care of Eve."
Remi sighed and was silent.
Eve yelled back, "I heard you call her 'Remi' at your apartment, and I did some digging. The way I figure it, the last active member of the FBI's most wanted terrorist group might be worth presenting to the Dabbur Zann."
Kurt cursed under his breath. Eve knew too much.
As three quick bursts of gunfire sounded behind the cabin, Kurt slipped out the back door, resisted the urge to check on his wife, and skirted around to the front in a wide arc, trying to get a good angle on Eve without it being immediately obvious to her mercenaries where his shots were coming from. One of them stuck by Eve, while two more stormed the cabin from the front.
"I've got Eve and three mercs here," he told Remi softly, hoping the comms would pick up his voice. "Patterson estimated ten overall. You see the other six?"
"Two died in the explosion. I got one just now. Two more heading my way. I don't see the last one, if there is one."
"Keep your guard up. I'll handle these four, then join you."
Remi snorted. "However will I manage until you rescue me?"
Kurt rolled his eyes and looked up from his weapon—to find Eve disappearing into the cabin. With a soft curse, he targeted one of the guys he still had a line on, and took him down with a quick burst of fire.
Things moved in a blur after that—moving from one point of cover to the next, avoiding his own tripwires, ensuring he was safe to take a shot before he did. On the other side of the cabin, and through his comms, he heard Remi taking down her targets and tersely relaying the numbers to him. "Three down."
"Two."
"Slacker." The amusement in her voice made her sound almost like Jane—except Jane never would have teased him about how she'd killed more people than he had.
He was about to reply when she caught her breath. "I have eyes on Eve."
Kurt aimed and took down the last mercenary in his field of view. "Where are you?"
"She's at the back door." She hesitated. "Careful. There's still one merc we haven't spotted."
"It's almost like you care if I die," he told her, heading back towards the front door of the cabin. "You getting a soft spot for me?"
"Fuck you." There was a harder edge to her voice now, as though he'd hit a nerve.
"You keep saying that, I might start to think it's a suggestion," he taunted back.
Her response was gunshots, followed by a curse as Eve returned fire. Kurt picked up the pace, moving through the cabin to the back door, keeping low.
"Damn you, bitch! You cost me everything." Eve's voice was ragged with pain. Remi must have hit her.
"Yeah, well, we're not so different. I don't have much left either. The only difference is that now you're dead." A final gunshot sounded just as Kurt stepped out of the back door, and Eve toppled into the grass, motionless.
Remi raised her gaze from Eve's body to him, lowering the weapon. She was obviously riding the adrenaline wave of the gunfight, but where Jane would have felt regret that she'd had to kill someone, there was satisfaction in Remi's eyes.
"Guess I didn't need backup after all." She scanned the woods around them, looking for the final merc, before lowering her weapon a little. "The last guy must have made a run for it. Mercs aren't exactly known for their loyalty."
He couldn't help but take a little dig at her, unnerved by her lack of feeling at the lives she'd taken. "I guess you'd know."
Anger drew down her brows, hardened her jaw. "I could have shot you in the head last night instead of leaving you in that hallway. You should be grateful you're not dead."
"Yeah? Well, maybe you should think about why you can't bring yourself to kill me. God knows you've had plenty of opportunities."
"It's not because of your precious Jane, if that's what you're implying." She stalked back towards the cabin.
He followed her, and had just reached the back door when a smattering of gunfire splintered the doorframe. He ducked instinctively, and Remi yanked him inside before returning fire, searing rage transforming her features.
As he regained his footing, she engaged the safety on her weapon before slamming it down on the table and rounding on him. "You're lucky he was a lousy shot. What the hell were you thinking?"
Her criticism was justified. He'd let his guard down too soon, distracted by thoughts of Jane and Remi. If it had cost him his life, he would have deserved it. He covered his self-recrimination with another verbal jab at Remi, setting aside his own gun. "You really do care about me."
"Oh, fuck you." The words were out of her mouth before she could censor herself.
Kurt raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was too easy to get under her skin this way—and part of him was enjoying it.
"I'm so done with you," she muttered, and turned her back on him.
"Running away again?" He had no idea what to do now Eve and her gang were no longer a threat. He was out of moves to get Remi to stay by his side until Patterson and Rich came through with something from the drive they'd found last night.
She spun back to face him, her anger incandescent. "I'm not a coward, if that's what you're implying."
Kurt shrugged. "You said it, not me."
She threw a punch, which he only just managed to deflect, but before he could regain his equilibrium, she shoved him back against the wall, hard, shocking the breath out of him.
Or maybe it was her aggressive, heated kiss that stole his breath.
He'd known Remi wanted him, but had never dreamed she'd actually do something about it. Before his brain could catch up, he was kissing her back, his fingers tangling in her hair as her nails dug into his scalp. The pain helped jolt him out of his adrenaline-fuelled lust, and he pushed her backwards to get some space, some air.
A million thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at the woman before him, breathing hard. She was his wife, but she wasn't. Was this cheating? Or could he somehow reach Jane's memories through intimacy? Would Jane blame him for trying? She was dying, and Remi was going to want to get away from him as soon as he had nothing else she wanted. He had to try something. If he didn't attempt it, and she disappeared, and later she died…
Remi scowled at him, taking a step back. "God, what was I thinking? You don't have the guts to sleep with anyone but your precious J—"
Before she could spit out Jane's name, he kissed her again, decided by the flash of hurt vulnerability he'd glimpsed in her eyes. The things she'd done were unconscionable, but deep down, there were still traces of his beloved wife. Maybe, just maybe, he could reach Jane this way.
Not only that, but he wanted to erase the contempt from her face and voice, destroy the barriers Remi had built to shut him out. He knew exactly how to drive her out of her mind with pleasure, and he knew she would hate how well he knew her body, even as she revelled in his touch. Just for one moment, he wanted her to surrender to him, to take back some of the control she'd ripped from him with her lies and manipulation.
Remi pulled away again, conflict in her expression. "This isn't what you think. I'm not her."
Kurt leaned back against the wall, recognising the signs that she needed room to think. She and Jane weren't so different in certain ways. "What I think is that you need to get off. And so do I."
Her gaze flicked down to the way his hardening cock was pushing against his zipper, then back to his face. "Then do something about it," she demanded.
He crossed the space between them, grabbed her by the hips and slammed her up against the opposite wall, remembering just in time to cushion her impact with his arm so that the wound on her back didn't bear the brunt. Pressing against her, he stared into her angry, lust-filled face, watching her struggle not to rub herself against his cock.
"You're the one who keeps running away. You want me? It's your move, Remi."
Remi answered with another forceful kiss, already tugging at his belt. Kurt seized her wrists and pinned them to the wall, not breaking the kiss as she fought against his grip. Her hips tilted against his even as she tried to escape his hold, a silent sign that she wasn't actually having second thoughts.
She wrenched her head to the side, freeing her lips to curse at him. "Just fuck me, already!"
Part of him wanted to just drive into her and thrust until they both fell apart. But he needed more. Needed to be in control, just as much as she did. "Why would I do that when it's so easy to piss you off by making you wait?"
"Ugh!" Her exclamation was half disgust, half moan as he trailed provocative, open-mouthed kisses over the bird tattoo on her neck. "If you think you're gonna 'make love' to me—"
He bit her earlobe hard enough to make her gasp, then growled, "Not the plan. Trust me."
Remi struggled again, and this time he released her wrists, sensing she was at the end of her patience. Immediately, she yanked up the hem of his shirt, stripping him to the waist within a couple of seconds. Before he could think, she shoved him backwards onto the couch, then climbed astride his lap to give him another breathless, bruising kiss.
Kurt pulled off her shirt in turn, then palmed her breasts, his touch as rough as her kisses. When he squeezed and pulled her nipples, harder than he ever had with Jane, Remi arched and gasped against his lips, grinding more urgently against the hard ridge in his pants.
"You want my mouth on you, don't you?" he growled against her ear, toying with the button on her pants so she'd know exactly where he meant. "You've wanted it for a long time."
"Shut up." She kissed him again, all aggression and lust, but she was undoing her pants at the same time, making his pulse skip.
Remi got up from his lap and quickly shed the rest of her clothing, revealing the body he never got tired of lavishing attention on. Swallowing hard, he stood up and pushed her down where he'd been sitting, then knelt between her spread legs with a jolt of anticipation.
She was soaked for him, and he trailed his hand through the wetness between her thighs, unable to resist a smirk of satisfaction as Remi's scowl deepened. She was trying so hard to stay aloof, to hate him, but he knew her more than she wanted to admit.
"You've been waiting for this for months, haven't you?" He didn't wait for a reply, leaning in to taste her and enjoying how she spread farther open for him, pressed against his tongue.
"Fuck you, Kurt Weller," she gritted out, seizing his head and pushing harder against his mouth. "Just get me off. Now."
It had been around four months since he'd last been down on his wife, and he could feel her tension, her hunger to be satisfied. She wouldn't last long, he sensed it, and too much teasing would be very unwelcome. He gave in to what Remi wanted, focusing on her clit, using the tip of his tongue the way she loved as he eased his fingers into her.
"Oh, goddamn you," she gasped, her hips jerking as he found her sweet spot. "Damn you, damn you, damn you…"
He let her grind against the flat of his tongue as she sought her release, her curses and moans making his cock ache.
"God, I hate you so much." She began to shake, her voice becoming a panting whisper, and if this were Jane, he'd let her take the orgasm and give her as many more as she wanted.
But this was Remi, the woman who'd exploited his deepest wounds for her own gain. Who was even now professing her hatred for him as she fucked his fingers and mouth.
This was a revenge that wouldn't hurt Jane.
Kurt pulled away, sat back, and watched her fall from the dizzying heights of almost-release into disoriented, furious frustration.
"Fuck!" she groaned, and kicked out at him angrily.
Kurt dodged easily, getting to his feet and ignoring her torrent of curses as he turned his back on her. "You put my family through hell. That's the least you deserve."
"Get back here," she demanded, her voice low and intense. She sounded so much like Jane—emotional and needing him—that he almost turned to check that he hadn't shocked his wife back to the forefront of her mind.
Ignoring her, he took off his boots and socks, then his belt, dropping it to the wooden floor with a loud clink of the buckle. He heard Remi moving behind him, but didn't turn around as he stripped naked, suppressing a groan of relief as he freed his cock from the pressure of his pants.
Remi pressed her warm body against his back, reaching around to take him in her hand and stroking firmly up his shaft. Kurt bit back a moan, his eyes falling closed as she teased the slick head of his cock with her thumb.
"I know. You can't stand to be in the same room as me," she said, her voice bitter, but her touch never faltering. "But you can hate me all you want—this gives you away. You want me just as much as I want you. Not Jane. Me."
Through the haze of lust and anger, her words tugged at something in his mind. A memory, but he couldn't place it, and she was just too damn good at stroking him for his mind to cooperate. But there was something…
Any second now, Weller was going to lose control and fuck her senseless. Remi could feel it in the coiled muscles of his shoulder against her face, in the subtle flex of his abs under her palm and in the pulsing hardness of his cock.
God, she needed it. Especially since he'd left her hanging on the edge of a glorious climax. She was frustrated, infuriated, her pulse thudding between her thighs as though to accentuate exactly what he wouldn't give her.
She wasn't going to beg. She refused to beg. She'd die first.
Unwrapping one arm from around his waist, she slid her fingers between her own thighs as she continued to stroke him, making no attempt to hide what she was doing. "If you want, I can just take care of myself—"
That was the final straw, and he turned abruptly to face her, his hands rough against the backs of her thighs as he lifted her off the floor. She hummed triumphantly against his lips, kissing him with a desperation she hadn't meant to reveal, then disguising it with aggression, scratching her nails across his shoulder blades as he carried her to the couch.
Then she was back in his lap, only there was nothing left between them but heat and fury and need and friction. She scratched red furrows down his back as the tip of his cock breached her entrance. "Yes. Yes."
He felt so good, so damn good… Once he was all the way inside her, she rested her forehead against his, her eyes squeezed shut, trying to catch her breath at how intense this was.
"Look at me," Kurt ordered, a growl in his voice.
Her curiosity about the expression on his face was too great for her to refuse. She gazed into his eyes, their bodies interlocked, and hoped he only saw her rage and arousal.
She sure as hell couldn't handle the pained love behind his anger.
"I hate you," she whispered, closing her eyes again, and started to move, reminding herself that this wasn't what he thought it was. She took him as hard and fast as she could, gasping when his strong hands supported her hips and helped each antagonistic movement along.
Her orgasm began to build, enhanced by the haze of pain brought by his bruising grip. The wounds on her back and arm burned as she arched and twisted, but she didn't care, welcoming the sensations as wholeheartedly as she did the pleasure coursing through her.
"No, you don't." Kurt's voice was tightly amused, and she realised she'd been professing her hatred for him in a breathless chant, even as they rocked together, naked and striving for the same goal. He took her head in both hands, stared into her eyes, and thrust up into her even harder. "This? This isn't hate, Remi."
"Speak for yourself," she hissed, and silenced him with her lips on his, her tongue keeping his busy as their breaths grew short and laboured.
Soon all that mattered was his cock, his fingers against her clit, his slick slide in and out of her until the tension was swept away in uncontrollable pulses of ecstasy. She cried out his name in agonised relief as the pleasure surged and ebbed, forgetting she hated him. Forgetting everything but how perfect they felt together.
Kurt groaned against her neck and drove up into her hard, his release shuddering through him in turn. Remi clung to him, unable to do anything else as the aftershocks of her orgasm faded.
Too vulnerable, yet unable to make herself pull away, Remi settled for twisting the knife. "Congratulations," she breathed in his ear. "You just cheated on your wife."
To her dismay, Kurt just laughed, without even lifting his face from her shoulder. "You are my wife. And you're starting to remember. Even if you still think you hate me."
"I don't remember a thing." She tried to get up, but her muscles were exhausted and slow to obey. "And you should hate me."
"I don't hate you," he said, finally raising his head to watch her expression, as though his words should mean something. "I just don't know who you are anymore."
That makes two of us. The response came from the back of her mind, from her memory. She sensed they'd had this conversation before. Him, and Jane.
A sense of irrational betrayal gave her the strength to get up from his lap and reach for her clothes. No. This isn't what he thinks.
Then why do you understand what he's implying?
This had gone far enough. Sleeping with him had been self-indulgent. A distraction she couldn't afford, as magnificent as it had felt. Now she had to get back on track, focus on freeing Shepherd and finding her cure.
It was time to leave Weller behind.