It had been hot and muggy with waves of heat steaming up from the pavement and making everything look wavery, like she was underwater. Marie shrugged her way into her room with a sigh of relief, silently thanking God for air conditioning. Normally she would never have gone out on a day like this, but she had been hiding in her room for three days. Reluctantly she realized that she was just feeling sorry for herself, and she needed to get over it. The Cure had failed. Big deal. Time to move on.

She had gone out to buy some light gloves and long sleeved shirts. Surprisingly enough, she'd found some really nice things, including a pair of flesh toned gloves in a thin, breathable cotton that she could wear anywhere, and she bought several pairs.

She dropped her bags on the foot of the bed and kicked off her shoes.

"Knock knock, Cher."

Her reaction was instantaneous and instinctive. She snatched her bags off the bed and hurled them toward the source of the voice. With practiced ease, she stripped off her gloves and braced herself for a fight.

The intruder swatted away the bags with a grunt of surprise. "Whoa, hold on there, pretty! He called soothingly. "Remy isn't here to hurt you."

She froze. "Remy! What…why are you…How did you get in here!"

He gave her a cocky smile and stepped over the spilled clothes. "It pays to have friends in low places. I just called in a favor with the hotel's maintenance crew."

She blinked and relaxed her stance. "But, why?"

He sauntered closer and her heart fluttered at the way he was looking at her. His deep red hair fell in loose waves around his face and his gaze was alive with interest. He shrugged with that cocky half-smile and she found herself suddenly remembering his kiss…how warm and soft his lips were…

"I was blown away by a kiss." He said as if reading her mind. "From the most beautiful lady." He was so close that she had to tip her head back to look into his eyes. "Only a fool lets a woman like that slip through his fingers. And Remy LeBeau is no fool."

Marie felt as if she couldn't blink. Her heart pounded frantically and she could feel her face heating up. She tried to respond, to say something, but she was absolutely flummoxed. His smile broadened knowingly and his eyelids lowered as he reached out to touch her face.

That movement brought her back to her senses with a snap.

"No!" She cried, flinging herself out of reach. He stared after her, surprised. He held out his empty hands and took a step closer.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Cher." He said in a reassuring tone.

"You don't understand," She said bitterly. "It's you who could get hurt, not me."

He lowered his hands and the smile returned. "Are you referring to your…talent?"

She snorted and pulled her gloves back on. "Talent! More like a curse."

He flopped unceremoniously onto the bed and patted the spot beside him. "Why don't you sit right here and tell old Remy all about it?"

There was a long moment of silence while she stood staring at him, desperately wanting to trust him, yet knowing logically that he was a stranger, and one with no compunction against sneaking into the hotel room of a woman he'd just met on the street.

Then he gave her an obnoxiously flirtatious look and stroked the bed beside him invitingly. She couldn't help but to laugh and her will to resist crumbled. She didn't throw caution to the winds entirely though. She prudently pulled out a chair from the table and sat facing him.

He grinned knowingly and lounged across the bed indolently. She caught herself staring at his long, strong legs and at the way his tank top stretched tautly across his broad chest…

She shook herself again and blushed. His grin broadened and he winked smugly. "So," He drawled, shifting his hips in a way that sent her scrambling to gather her wits again. "Tell me all about Marie."

It took a long time. She spoke haltingly at first, then with growing confidence. He listened intently to her story, asking few questions and letting her go at her own pace. By the time she was done talking, she felt worlds better.

Remy had shifted until he was sitting on the very edge of the bed and his knees were touching hers. "So you never really gained control of your powers," He said in mild reproach.

"My powers can't be controlled." She said disconsolately.

"Bull." He disagreed with a smile.

"Excuse me?" She said indignantly. "What do you know about my power? You've known me all of a few hours!"

"Excuse you, indeed." He countered. "How can you know anything about your powers when by your own admission you've rarely even used them? How can you even begin to understand your ability when you're afraid of it?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but he reached out and laid a finger across her lips.