Marie carefully sorted the clothing into piles on the bed. She hadn't realized that she had left so much behind, but then she remembered impatiently packing her closet into boxes when she'd moved out of her parents' home, with the intention of going through her things later. Except that later hadn't come, and now she was stuck going through it all one item at a time.

Anything that was in good condition was going to get donated. The rest would get tossed out. She'd yet to find anything that she wanted to keep. Clothes that she hadn't worn since ninth grade sat next to the maternity clothes. Marie couldn't see herself ever wearing any of them again.

At some point, probably several years ago, Remy had cleaned out his drawers and his side of the closet because there wasn't much left in the bedroom that belonged to him. Just a couple of pairs of shoes in the closet, and maybe a week's worth of clothes in one of the drawers. The rest of his personal belongings were gone.

Her phone chimed, which she barely heard over the sound of the lawn service cutting the grass outside, and Marie couldn't help but feel a little rush of excitement that it might be from Remy. They had texted each other a couple of times since yesterday afternoon, although it had been about fairly mundane matters. She'd let him know that the power had come back on, and he'd sent her pictures of the bar like he had promised. She had to give him credit, The Ragin' Cajun looked like a pretty nice place to hang out—even if he had given it a somewhat ridiculous name.

Earlier that morning, he'd texted to say that Jean-Luc was sending him and Henri out to check the traps, and he couldn't leave until they had finished. 'Check the traps', Marie knew, had nothing to do with fishing, even though it involved taking a boat out on the bayou. It was code for 'make sure the perimeter is secure', and involved checking that all of the electronics the Guild had hidden within their territory as part of their security system had fresh batteries and were still working as intended.

It was a chore that Remy and his cousins had frequently been given when they were young, so it was surprising that he would have been assigned such a menial task as an adult. But maybe that was Jean-Luc's idea of punishment. She could see how it might be humiliating to be ordered to do something that the Guild considered a child's job. Whether Henri had been sent along to supervise or was also being punished, she didn't know. She'd texted Remy back and told him to be careful and to watch out for gators.

She looked down to see what his latest message contained and laughed.

This one put up a fight. Attached was a picture of an alligator lounging lazily on the bank in the sun.

The Guild property was extensive, but that photo could have been taken right outside their back door for all she knew. She had never been inside the fence. The closest that Remy had ever dared to bring her was up to the iron gate once. Then she had sat in his truck and waited, for two hours, while he had run inside to drop something off "real quick".

She had been bored, sweaty, and pretty irritated with him by the time he came back. But she knew why he hadn't been able to invite her in.

"De Guild don' like outsiders much," he'd always told her. And after she'd gotten a dose of his memories, she understood just how much of an understatement that was.

If the Guild ever found out that Marie had some of Remy's memories, and therefore knew several of their secrets, then they would probably hire an Assassin to take her out. Being married to a member bought her immunity to certain knowledge, but there were things that even Remy wasn't supposed to know, that she now knew, so for everyone's sake, she tried to forget that she knew them.

About fifteen minutes later, she got another message. We're back, limbs intact. I should be home before supper.

She was glad. It wasn't the same without him there.

See you then, she replied.

Marie made steady progress in the bedroom, although work had temporarily come to a halt while she looked through the yearbooks and photo albums that had been stashed on the top shelf of the closet. By the late afternoon, she had boxed up all of the items she intended to keep, and had filled her trunk with several bags of clothes to give away.

When she got back from the donation site, she decided to make a pitcher of sweet tea and get some things prepped for supper. She figured that after a long drive, Remy would probably be tired and hungry by the time he arrived.

She was at the counter, dumping ice cubes into the pitcher, when she heard his car pull up.

The door from the kitchen to the laundry room was open, so Marie looked over when she heard Remy enter from outside. He stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder and garment bag in his other hand. She was about to question why he had stopped when she saw that his boots and the bottom of his jeans, up to his knees, were coated in mud. His black t-shirt was spattered and there were even flecks of dried dirt on his face and in his hair.

She walked over and took the suit and bag from him. "What on earth happened to you?"

He mumbled something that was half in English, half in French, but was mostly just a string of curses, as he picked at the laces of his boots through the mud. His accent was always thicker after spending time in the bayou, but she was pretty sure she'd heard the word 'chaoui' somewhere in the middle.

Marie didn't know what a raccoon had to do with anything, but it didn't sound good whatever it was. "Do you want me to get you some paper towels?" They probably wouldn't be much help, but she didn't think that he was in the mood to appreciate her offering to take him outside and spray him with the garden hose.

Remy didn't reply. Instead, he pulled off his boots and hurled them out the still open door with enough force that they probably sailed past the carport and landed on the grass. If she was being charitable, she'd guess that his plan was to let them dry in the sun and then knock the dirt off later.

He wiped his dirty hands on his thighs. "Why do I always get myself involved in shit like this?"

It sounded rhetorical so she just shrugged.

Remy yanked his socks off, then dropped his jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. "Shower," he grumbled as he walked past her in the kitchen toward the hallway, and she wasn't sure if it was a curse or an announcement.

"It's right where you left it, sug."

She waited until she heard the water running because she wasn't sure how many more clothes he was planning to shed along the way, and then took the bags she was still holding to the bedroom. The backpack went on the bed and she hung the garment bag in the nearly empty closet next to her black dress.

Marie then went back out to the kitchen and picked up his socks and jeans. There was a comforting domesticity to the action. His socks went right into the washing machine, but after removing his keys, wallet, phone, and a deck of cards from his pockets she put his jeans in the laundry sink and rinsed them off. The back side of his jeans was as dirty as the front. What the heck had he been doing, wrestling in the mud?

The wet jeans joined the socks in the washer, but she would wait until she had the rest of his clothes and he was out of the shower to run it.

Next, she went outside. He had indeed hit the lawn with his boots. Marie walked over and picked them up, tried to wipe as much mud off onto the grass as she could, and then stood them up on the driveway in the sun. They'd dry a lot faster that way.

Remy's car was barely even dirty. It had what she would consider a normal amount of bug splatter and road dust on it after a long trip. But then she glanced through the window and saw the interior. No wonder he wasn't happy.

Marie grabbed the items that had been in his pockets on her way back into the kitchen and put them on the table. Then, she poured two glasses of sweet tea, brought them out to the front room, and waited for him to join her. It wasn't long until she heard the water down the hall shut off.

A much more calm-looking Remy tossed his shirt at the laundry room door as he walked through the kitchen on his way to the front room. He was barefoot, and had changed into cargo shorts and a gray t-shirt. He sank down on the couch next to her and she passed him a glass of sweet tea. He held it to his forehead with his eyes closed for a bit before taking a sip.

"I'll clean up the mess I left, I just need to sit here a while first," he said.

"I already picked up your clothes and set your boots up to dry."

"You didn't have to."

"I know, but I wanted to be helpful."

"Being helpful was how this whole thing started." He rolled his head on his shoulders and looked over at her. "It was an old lady."

"Not a raccoon?" Maybe she had misheard.

He scowled. "Oh no, one of them was involved too. That was the reason she went off the road. Now, what this chaoui was doing walking around in the afternoon, cher, I don't know. But the woman swerved out of his way like she was trying to avoid a pothole the size of Texas, and ended up half in the ditch. I watched it happen."

"So, you stopped."

"And I offered to call a tow truck, but then she convinced me to try to get her free instead. It might've worked, except that the rain had made a lot of mud and she was stuck. I said don't gun it... mud went everywhere. And then I slipped... It was a fucking disaster."

"Did you get her out?"

"No, I drove her to her daughter's house, which was thankfully just up the road, and let them deal with her."

"I saw the inside of your car."

He groaned. "I should've stripped right there on the side of the road, but she looked like she was the fainting type. And I woulda had to catch her. Then how'm I gonna explain what I'm doing holding this unconscious woman while I'm half-naked? "

He sounded serious, so Marie bit back her smile. She patted his knee. "You did the right thing."

"Don't remind me."

At that, she smiled. "You know what might cheer you up?"

He nodded. "Stealing that Renoir I've had my eye on for a while."

"I thought you didn't like Renoir?"

"I don't. But I like how I'd have to steal it, and who I'd be stealing it from." He gave her a mischievous wink.

Well, she did ask.

"Okay, we can put that on the list as a possibility for later," she said, "But for now, how about we cook supper? I bought stuff for us to grill, and I already put the charcoal in the barbecue."

"That'll work too."

"Am I crazy, or didn't we used to have patio furniture? I looked in the garage but didn't see it."

He shook his head. "Either the wind carried it away, or some neighbor helped themselves to it a long time ago. But I haven't seen it in years."

That was disappointing. She had been hoping they could eat outside.

"We could carry the table out from the kitchen," he offered.

She pretended to look him over. "I dunno, are you sure your tired ol' body can handle that?"

Without warning, he leaned over, picked her up off the couch, and slung her over his shoulder with surprising ease. "You tell me."

"Remy! Put me down!"

He deposited her in the kitchen and just smirked at her. Clearly someone had been working out. And that made her notice how fitted his shirt was, and how snugly it stretched across his chest and his well-defined biceps. Huh. How had she not taken notice of that before?

"Any more than ten seconds and it'll cost you twenty dollars," he said.

"What?"

"Don't think I didn't notice the way you were ogling me, Miss Anna-Marie."

Her eyes narrowed. "Say that again, Swamp Rat, I dare you."

It was the wrong thing to say. Remy's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Did the X-men teach you some fancy new moves? And now you think you can take me?"

It was a dangerous game that she was flirting with. Remy had trained in Savate since he was young, and he had somehow managed to beat Logan. But neither of those things factored into her decision in the heat of the moment. "You won't use your powers?"

He crossed his heart. "Promise. What about yours?"

"Off."

"And you'll warn me if they flip back on as I'm about to grab you?"

"Yes, I promise that I will let you know if you're about to get knocked out."

His face went serious. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I know. It's okay," she said. Because for once, it actually was.

"Backyard?"

She nodded and they went out into the yard a ways. The road wasn't busy, but even if someone happened to drive by, the trees would provide enough cover that they wouldn't be seen. Marie kicked off her shoes, and they circled each other for a minute, neither willing to make the first move.

She was no slouch when it came to hand-to-hand, as any of her students or teammates could attest to. Her powers were only good in close contact, and then after she had lost them completely, she had still wanted to be able to take care of herself in a fight. She regularly trained with Logan in a few different fighting styles, so she was confident that she could hold her own.

Screw it. She attacked.

They sparred, and were evenly matched, but she suspected that he was going easy on her. She might not win in a fair fight, but he hadn't made her promise not to cheat. And as they were at the house of a thief, then surely Thieves' rules were in effect.

Marie had no idea if what she was about to do was going to work, or if it was about to go horribly wrong, but if anything was going to motivate her to get it right, it was going to be stubbornness. She did not like to lose.

She let Remy grab hold of her, and then brushed her fingertips across his bare arm. As she did that, she imagined pulling out just a tiny thread of his power, letting it trickle in slowly, instead of flooding in all at once. Then, she broke out of his hold and dropped down to one knee, rolled out of the way, and grabbed a fist full of grass clippings as she hopped back up.

Remy flicked his hair out of his face and circled her. "Eventually, you're gonna get tired," he drawled.

She shrugged. "But not yet." She charged the clippings in her hand and tossed them in the air above his head. They popped like little firecrackers, and it bought her enough distraction that she could sweep his legs and pin him to the ground.

"You cheated," he said, in awe.

"You didn't make me promise not to use my powers at all."

"I didn't know that you could use them like that."

"I know!" She exclaimed happily. "I got exactly as much as I needed, and you didn't even notice! I've never been able to do that before!"

He looked up at her through the hair in his face. "I'm torn between feeling like a guinea pig, and being proud of you for making a breakthrough."

"Thank you." She brushed the hair out of his eyes and then rolled off of him before she got any other ideas. Like leaning down and kissing him.

Instead, she lay on the grass and looked up at the sky.

"So, you don't just drain people's energy, you get their mutant powers too," he said.

Marie's happy mood deflated. It was time for 'the talk'. "I usually get everything," she said quietly.

"Everything like—"

"Everything." That was, or at least it had been, the curse. "Powers, memories... I even take on personality traits if I hold on long enough."

"Fuck."

"But it wasn't like that this time," she said quickly. "I only got your mutation. And maybe a couple random thoughts about your fighting stance."

Remy was quiet.

"Are you upset?" she asked.

"No, I was just thinking. I had this dream when I was in the coma about a Cajun woman who was talking to me, telling me things... It never made any sense why I'd heard her voice instead of yours, and I could never figure out where she had come from."

"I had your accent for a while," she confirmed. "It was worse when I wasn't thinking about it." And it had only complicated matters with her parents. They just couldn't believe that she wasn't doing it on purpose. "Eventually, it faded, just like your powers. The only thing that's ever permanent are the memories."

"How much of a person's memories do you usually get?" he asked.

"It depends," she replied. "Most of the time it's whatever the person is currently thinking about, and then a lot of fragments that don't make much sense out of context. But the longer I hold on, the more I get. And the more complete they are."

He looked over at her. "And my memories?"

Marie gave Remy the look that he gave her when she asked questions that he couldn't answer. "You know a lot of things that you're not supposed to know."

He laughed deeply. "I know even more now."

"You're gonna get yourself killed."

"I doubt it," he said in a lazy, confident tone. "Information is a man's best weapon."

"Then I'm glad you don't have my mutation."

"Ooh, think of how much I could steal..."

"I am, and I'm a little terrified of the image that's forming in my mind."

"I'd probably go power hungry," he admitted.

"You definitely would."

He held his hand up and swept it across the sky. "Remy LeBeau, Emperor of Earth."

If she rolled her eyes any harder... "You know, there are downsides to absorbing all those memories."

He turned his head toward hers, concern creasing his brow. "Like what?"

Marie hadn't meant to explain everything, but now that she had started, she didn't want to stop. It was silly, but she didn't get a lot of sympathy from people back in New York, except from Logan, because everyone had always been so focused on how 'dangerous' she was. No one had thought to ask how she was doing after she had used her powers on a mission, or expressed concern when she reacted strangely after a bad memory re-surfaced.

And then everyone had just assumed that the cure had fixed all of her problems, when in reality it had done little except restore her ability to touch.

So, it wasn't that Marie was looking for sympathy, per se, but maybe she just wanted to tell someone who would care. She shifted and sat crossed-legged on the grass, facing Remy. "Do you remember the incident at Liberty Island?"

"That machine that Magneto got it in his head to build?" he asked. "Were you in New York when that happened?"

"I was what he used to power it."

Remy pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at her. "He what?"

"He strapped me into the pilot's seat and forced me to absorb him so that he would have a Magneto clone. He didn't want to run it himself because he knew it would kill him." A severe design flaw if you asked her.

"Fucking coward. If our paths ever cross again, I'll be what kills him."

"That's not why I'm telling you this," she said. Though she appreciated that he was angry on her behalf. "The machine worked exactly as planned and it took all of my/his energy. That's how I got the streak in my hair. I was pretty much dead at that point, and I would have died if it wasn't for Logan. He has accelerated healing, so you can see where this is going."

Remy nodded.

She continued, "He transferred everything he could to me, and that's the only reason I'm still here. But even though I survived, there was a good while when I didn't know who I was after that. Logan has been through some incredibly messed up things in his life—Magneto too. War, torture, death... And now I have all of that in my head."

"You re-lived their experiences like they were your own."

She knew he'd understand. "They are now."

He dropped back down on his back with a heavy exhale. "I wish I had known."

"About the memories?"

"That you almost died."

"What would it have changed?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I just wish I had known." He folded his arms behind his head.

She watched him while he stared up at the sky in thought. "There was one silver lining," she said. "You were in my head for a long time after I absorbed you. I don't know if it was because you were the first and I didn't understand what was happening, or if it was because I missed you and didn't want to let you go, but you talked to me a lot. It actually helped. I felt like I wasn't alone."

He gave her a soft smile, and then his expression turned to concern. "It must be hard though. If I had other people's thoughts and voices in my head, I think I'd lose it after a while."

"It wasn't easy at first, but the Professor worked with me, and I got pretty good at locking most of it away." Until recently, it had been the only aspect of her mutation that she could control.

"I met Xavier once," Remy said. "He seemed like a decent guy."

"He was." Then she looked at him in confusion. "When did you meet him?"

He thought for a moment, and then answered, "'Bout five years ago? He tried to recruit me. I was just getting the bar going though, so I turned him down."

Marie was stunned. Was it possible that the Professor had somehow known who Remy was? No, it was almost certainly just a coincidence. Remy was a powerful mutant, and the Professor could probably sense that he toed a fine line between right and wrong. He was exactly the sort of mutant that the Professor liked to try to save.

"Kept his card in my wallet for a while after that. Dunno why. Then I heard he died... I'm sorry."

"Thank you." The aftermath of his death had been emotional, especially since her taking of the cure had turned out to be somewhat ill-timed.

Marie picked a blade of grass off her shorts, and toyed with it between her fingers. Then, she gave it a charge to see if she still could. She marveled at the bright magenta glow in her hand. If this was how she could use her mutation to borrow powers, then maybe it wasn't so bad. Perhaps that was how her mutation was supposed to have worked all along.

"Might want to be careful with that," Remy said as he sat up.

She pulled the energy back before it went off. "I think you were right about something."

"Hang on," he said, and then mimed taking out a notepad and pencil. "I want to make a note of this in my diary, so that I can remember this day."

"Ha ha," she said dryly, and he grinned.

She shook her head and started over. "What you said about my mutation coming back slow, and me learning to control it... I think that's what happened." She picked up another handful of grass clippings and charged and uncharged them in her hand several times, enjoying the novelty. "I kinda maybe think I might not hate it anymore."

"I'm glad," he said. "It's part of you, and it's no good hating a part of yourself."

Maybe that had always been the key. The first time around she had associated her mutation with so much trauma that she had actively fought against it.

"I can just see it now," he said. "You're going to go back to New York, start taking the other X-men's powers, and become unstoppable."

That would be a disaster. Who would even let her voluntarily borrow their powers besides Logan? Maybe Jubilee? The rest of them would probably freak out. On the other hand though, if she could demonstrate control, she would be a pretty powerful asset to the team. But that would be a discussion for later, when she was back in New York.

"I'm not a thief like you, Remy."

"Whatever you say, Empress."

She tossed the uncharged handful of grass clippings in his face.

He reached into his pocket and produced a deck of cards. "These work better."

They stood in the backyard and threw cards, watching them explode until the deck, and Remy's borrowed powers ran out. Then they made supper and sat outside filling each other in on the years until the sun started to set and the mosquitoes came out in force.

It was the best evening she'd had in a really long time, but there had been a shadow hanging over it. Dark thoughts that reminded her that she was just playing house, and that it didn't matter how much she was enjoying Remy's company because it couldn't last. In a few days, she'd be leaving, and then she was going to have to walk away from him for a second time.