BtVS by Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Marvel U by the parent company and its many artists/writers.

Remy stood in front of the Magic Box, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

He was worried.

He'd met his family, but there was no sign of a helpful portal leading back to his earth.

"Not like dere was one promised," he said aloud. "It's possible I'm meant t' stay here, until I've helped Tara out wi' somethin' massive. Or maybe I'll be sent back t' the mansion once I figure out how I fell between realities in the first place. Maybe I'm still here, because I've been forgotten about and I need to make my own portal. That, or maybe I'm jus' supposed t' make this world my new home.

"Some hint," he said, growling slightly. "Would be very much appreciated."

##

Sighing, he pushed open the doors to the Magic Box and went inside.

When the bell above the door rang, Giles looked up from his spot by the cash register.

With a sort of weary smile, the Watcher bent down out of sight. Coming up with Remy's heavy bag, he placed it on the counter.

"Wow," said a customer, noticing the bulging fabric. "Now that's what I call buying in bulk."

##

"Thanks for holding on to th' stuff for me and I do appreciate y' bringing it to work with you," Remy said, nodding at the bag he'd left at Giles' home after a night spent on the Watcher's couch. "Makes things a bit easier. Plus, even though I think dis shirt made a better first impression, I feel a lot more like myself in a good leather jacket."

"Went through a phase like that myself," Giles said. "Although, since I had poor taste at the time, they tended to be black with studs. So," he continued after a slight pause. "Any luck in finding a hotel room?"

"Not as such," Remy said, still a bit griped that the cash he'd brought from his room in the mansion was useless in his current reality. "Alright if I change in the back room?"

"Go right ahead."

While digging through the bag, Remy's hand brushed a piece of paper. Pulling it out, he realized it was the address he'd copied down from the phone booth near his mother's graveyard.

"I don't suppose I'm here t' help those people out," Remy said to himself. "Am I? Nah. That bunch o' Maclays seem to be taking care of themselves. Anyway, seeing as I only wrote down the address, de point is moot. Well, I suppose it'd be easy enough to get my dad's phone number, but I got no reason to take the time."

"Hey," Willow said as she met Tara outside between classes. "I called your dad. He's okay."

Tara stared at her girlfriend like she'd grown a second head. "You thought that would be a good idea, how?"

"No, everything's fine," Willow said, pulling a tape recorder from her pack. "I was worried that, 'cause your brother stole his car-"

"He just said he stole the car," Tara said, shaking her head. "Nothing to get worked up about. Not like he'd said it was a habit, or that he'd hot-wired it."

"Exactly. So I was thinking that maybe Remy had done something a bit more violent than just simply grabbing it from the driveway. I've seen him fight. You haven't yet."

"Go on," Tara said. If she had been paying attention, she might have noticed Ben pull up to a phone booth in the distance and run inside, the good doctor having apparently decided to abandon his shift.

"So, I went on-line and grabbed a recycling campaign's sound bite. Then I did some search-fu and came up with your dad's number. When he answered the phone and I was sure he sounded okay, I played the recording. He hung up first."

"That's... good to know," Tara said. "Really think he's human?"

"Your dad? Oh," Willow said, switching gears mentally. "Right. Giles said there was precedent, but... Remy certainly looks... Think your mom had an affair with a demon?"

They both blinked, startled by the sound of screeching tires in the background. Neither of them recognized the car.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Tara sighed and shook her head. "Let's hope that she had a choice."

Remy grimaced as he re-entered the main room of the store. It wasn't as if he could go on a stealing spree without knowing a place to fence the goods, or had a better idea of the security measures used in Sunnydale's reality.

"It'd just be my luck, t' pick the wrong pocket and end up cursed," he said to himself. "Besides, this is my sister's town and anything I do could ripple back an' hit her. Nah. I'm better off jus' takin' from the bad guys.

"Speakin' of which," he said, sauntering up to Giles. "Hey, there has to be more t' this place if there's enough stuff going on to keep a group the size of yours busy. Assumin' dis be a proper demon and magic-filled town, with adventures like last night's jaunt around every corner... There be any nests of bad guys or treasure-filled ruins you haven't gotten around t' taking out yet?"

##

With a long-suffering sigh, Giles took off his glasses and began to polish them.

"That's... actually a good question," Giles said as he stopped cleaning his glasses mid-motion. "The simple answer is, a lot less than there used to be."

Remy flashed a wry grin. "They jus' not makin' proper dragon-filled tombs like they did in the ole days, eh?"

"Oh please," Giles said. "This is not a video game. If it was, I'd be getting my swords blessed. Ahem. No, this town was host to a team of government paid... commandos that swept through the town without a proper understanding of magic or ritual. If it was shiny and unclaimed or in the hands of who they thought were the 'bad guys', as you put it, well, they took it and used it to supplement their budget. I have no idea how many of the magical treasures a Hellmouth... unnaturally attracts were melted down for scrap."

"Well, do they have records of the places that were too big or too small for them t' hit?"

"Considering the place was abandoned, the organization disbanded and… That we have one of the surviving soldiers who would know where the surviving records are kept, if any… Oh."

"I'd say we better well ask then, eh, mon ami," Remy said with a smirk. "Oh, and not t' sound too much like a tourist, but what's a Hellmouth?"

Giles stared him down for a beat.

"Not t' say I don't know de name," Remy clarified. "Any idiot with access t' a computer, th' name of this town in his pocket, and a willingness to wade hip-deep in contradictory bullshit knows about the Sunnydale Hellmouth. What that actually means is, apparently, a lot harder t' say wi' all the 'theories' out there. Gambit's personal favorite was de guy who called it 'a shortcut to the mystical land of shrimp.'"

"Right now." Giles frowned. "All I'm going to say is that it's a place where the world is thin... You know, you can't just wander in and expect to be included in our group just like that."

Remy raised an eyebrow as Giles snapped his fingers.

"What," Remy asked. "There be a waiting period?"

##

"Look," Giles said, sighing. "You weren't there to see what happened when Tara's family came to visit. That was a good thing in the long run because it turned her from a relative outsider into a member of our core group. However, if we hadn't stood up for her then, she would have been broken utterly."

"Not to mention," he continued in a sterner tone. "I have yet to see evidence of you taking what we face in this town - matters of life and death - seriously. You waltz in here with a grin on your face, expecting your athletic prowess and skills to protect you from anything. This world is, at times, a dark place and it just doesn't work like you seem to think it does. By what rights should I provide you with the identity of a commando, a valuable resource, when you have not yet done anything to earn my respect?"

"So that's how it is, eh? I join in on a rescue mission to save your life," Remy said, his voice hard. "And you turn around and ask Gambit: 'What have you done for me lately?'"

"That's not enough," Giles said, raising his voice until he was practically shouting.

Customers from all over the store stopped in their tracks and turned to look at the two men.

"That's just not enough," Giles said in a more normal voice, oblivious to the extra eyes on him. His shoulders lowered and he looked older than he had seconds before the outburst. "You're only in this hellish town because of Tara and I don't believe she could handle a death on her hands."

##

"Heh, Gambit be in trouble, wherever he goes," Remy said with a wink. "That's a habit that won't be broken any time soon. I'd say I have as much chance of dying anywhere else as I do right here."

"That's just it." Giles grimaced. "You're here to join the fight. It would be different if you were present in a civilian capacity. If I was that bloody worried about life on the Hellmouth I'd be staging a massive evacuation of Sunnydale and pushing for it to be turned into a national park. No," he said, regretfully. "Mrs. Summers... That would be, ah, Buffy's mother... Has been living here for well on four years and what she's most at risk from now is a shadow on her CAT scan, rather than anything mystical."

"Oh. I'm sorry t' hear."

"Ah, yes, well. The point remains that if you stay..." Giles trailed off, his mouth tightening. "It just occurred to me how terribly hypocritical the suggestion that you leave would be coming from me. I've felt the rejection that comes from someone who's been a part of your life, who you want to continue to have in your life, leave simply because, to them, you're not as important as leaving town for someplace safe. I wouldn't wish that on anybody, especially not Tara."

"Even so, there is some truth in what you say," Remy said. "About how my death might affect my sister. I can hope for the best, but... A friend of mine was young when her friend was... No, that's a story for another time. More appropriate t' this situation is that I've seen a family of, ah, young warriors for the light, torn apart over the death of one of their own. They weren't the same after it, thinking of de past, rather than th' future and eventually they just drifted apart. However..." His words trailed off.

There was silence for a few seconds, before a wide smile appeared on Remy's face.

"Yes, go on," said Giles, despite himself.

"As those young warriors who'd been hit so hard grew up, many of them became teachers." Remy leaned forward, letting a bit more of the respect he felt for them leak into his voice. "Right now, they're helping the younger generation so that they won't make the same mistakes. What I'm saying is, I definitely won't promise to stay out of the fights here, so I can't say I won't get hurt. What I can do is impart some of my skills and help with the training, so that the family my sister has built fer herself here, will be better off for me having been here, when I go."

"Of course," Remy continued. "I've been around the block enough t' know my own limits, such as they are. I'm not likely to get into a brawl without having already made note of all the possible routes out of it. If I do stay in there long enough, against an opponent that clearly outclasses me, to get beaten to a bloody pulp... It'll be because I've decided de current goal is worth it."

Giles studied Remy's face intently, as if to judge the sincerity of his words.

"Well," Giles said with a half-smile. "It's not as if you're applying for a job at the highschool. That certainly cuts down on the paperwork. However..."

Giles trailed off, his eyes locking on something moving in the background just to the side of Remy's head.

He realized, to his shock that it was a customer listening intently to every word they said.

Looking around the room, he understood just how public their 'private' chat had become.

"However," Giles continued, clearing his throat loudly. "Perhaps it would be best if we could continue this conversation at a later date."

Nodding agreement, Remy turned and made his own survey of the students, tourists and practitioners that prowled the shelves of the Magic Box on any given day.

##

Only a few, including Ben, had the grace to look embarrassed.