multiversallogs | (no subject)

She's allowed to be steady - it makes sense, even if it's not the best thing; they're all jaded.

Gambit is in the living room, pacing, not because he's overly anxious but because as someone filled with bio-kinetic energy, sitting still even when you're slightly on edge or trying to stay sharp is too much of a pain in the ass to be bothered with. (That's his story and he's sticking to it.)

It's a relief to hear the door when he does, and know from the weight of it who it is.

He doesn't say anything, not yet, instead just crosses the room and pulls Wanda into his arms. It doesn't matter to him that she's not a wreck and doesn't need someone to hold her and tell her it's fine; she should have the option. (And maybe he was a little worried. Maybe.)

She's still, for a second, and then she just--lets go of some of the anxiety locked into her body, leaning into Remy with the ease earned after years of being together. Wanda puts both arms around him in return, and stays quiet for a while. When she does speak, it's with an exhalation, and some resignation, though she's also happy to be home.

"It was inevitable, wasn't it?"

She tips her face back to look up at Remy.

"He's younger than I am."

Seriously, that is a mindfuck.

It is completely a mindfuck, and though they've all had their share of them - hell, Remy's had to kill his own alternate - this is something that will ever be just beyond the edges of his innate understanding. Blood loyalty means little to someone abandoned at birth. He tries, though, because it's important to Wanda, and Wanda is important to him. (Remy has always chosen his own family.)

"I think he's got Xavier still," he says quietly. "Somebody who wasn't Chuck was using his CiD to talk to me about mutants. So it's... not a terrible thing he's totally, awkwardly, creepily that age."

He smiles, just a bit.

"... How'd it go?"

She makes a little high 'ngh' and presses her face into Remy's shoulder. Terribly enough, that sound is followed by a rueful, breathy laugh, muffled by his shirt. When she lifts her face, it's still with the ghost of that incredulous tremor in her voice.

"He was so nice."

She takes a step back, and away, but reaches for Remy's hands in the same interval, so apparently she intends for him to accompany her to wherever she's headed in the house. "It's not as though he was never kind to me, but it was this guileless niceness, in a way. He's himself, of course. It's no alternate universe where he's mysteriously defanged. But he was so hurt by what had happened to him, and trying so hard not to push me away."

"What happened to him was monstrous." His voice is subdued with the gravity of it - what happened and still happens to all mutants is horrific, but there's an extra layer there, with this man. Everyone knows what Max Eisenhardt went through, at least in summary. Not even Remy, in all his hostility towards Magneto, would ever brush that aside. "There's no question about that, chere. You're seeing him closer to the origins of his decisions."

"I wonder if this is what he would have been like if I'd known him as a child," she muses.

But maybe that would have been more frightening--children, two active, intelligent, rambunctious twin children, do not settle what has been disrupted in Magneto. Maybe their loss augmented it, but she doesn't know if she should ponder the what ifs. (And not just because it's dangerous where she's concerned.)

Wanda presses her fingertips lightly to Remy's arm, to settle herself.

"How are the boys?" A fragment of a pause, albeit a soft one. "How are you?"

She's not the only one unsettled by this.

The thought of Magneto raising children - actually raising them, from babies, not just getting his claws in with angry teenagers - disturbs something fundamental in Remy. He's careful not to let it show on his face.

The lights are dim in the house, and it's nice out so the back door to the garden is open; Remy laces his fingers with hers and moves to sit down in the living room, facing the quiet yard.

"Billy knows something's up, Tommy's bored as ever." He kept them busy and occupied and only did a reasonable amount of nagging. Despite the packaging, he's not half bad at wrangling teens, but Wanda knows that.

It takes him a while to come up with something to say to the second bit.

"That man frightens me." His voice is hushed and he sounds somewhat at a loss - a key to it being honest, if uncomfortably raw (for him). "Ain't got nothin' to do with his abilities or his politics. I have been in the orbit of his presence for so long and I've seen what happens to everyone who gets close to him - everyone. So much of you is your heart, Wanda, I just..."

She understands--she does, she has to. She's watched so many people go back and forth on Magneto, and now, as far as she knows, he's got the X-Men on his side back home, which continues to distress her, in a quiet way; it's nothing she can change, but it strikes her as destined to end badly.

She watches Remy's face as he speaks, listening with the precise calm she sometimes demonstrates.

"You're worried I'll get hurt, I know." And she honestly can't completely assure Remy that won't happen, but, after a fraction of a pause, she says, "I want to get to know him, and we've talked before about how he needs to be managed, to a degree, but my priorities are you, the boys, this house. I can't become so deeply involved with him that it puts any risk to those things."

For her own sake, too. In theory.

(Sometimes she still needs to be reminded.)

"I'm worried that you'll get lost."

It's an important distinction. Not one that excludes hurt, and yes, of course he doesn't want her to be hurt, but Erik's very existence here has to be screwing with her already. But he knows how trying to work with Magneto is like trying to dig a lost stone out of tar - you think you're making progress until you realize you're in too deep to get out.

"I trust you. I don't trust him. I ain't ever gonna, and I'm probably gonna keeping pointing that out."

Checks, balances, and Remy's inability to be subtle once he's trying to really make a point.

There's a slightly tense silence where it seems like maybe she'll get her back up, or at least it may seem that way to Remy, who is accustomed to people getting irrational over Magneto--but she doesn't. She reaches up with her free hand to tug at one curl (it does, in fact, spring back into place) and sighs outward all of that building frustration with the situation. Wanda knows what happens if she doesn't let that go.

"I think that's probably a good idea, honestly. I can keep my mind with him, I promise, but I'm worried about the boys."

Specifically, she is worried that Tommy will idolize him, especially since he's young and especially efficient at tugging on one's heartstrings right now, since it's partially inadvertent. Billy, too, somewhat; just because Billy is the less impulsive twin doesn't mean he isn't young enough to be taken in.

She hesitates.

"Did I ever tell you what happened, what I did to him? The day I disappeared. M Day."

Remy doesn't realize until that moment that he's actually waiting for her to get defensive, and the suddenness of that clarity unlocks a whole host of emotions. Mostly, though, he just feels immediately guilty, and the look he gives Wanda in response is plainly apologetic. He's not trying to take out his history of dealing with these kinds of situations on her, but it is - unfortunately - how he's conditioned to react. He swallows all of it, because this is very much not about him, and it's not the path he meant to go down.

"No." His voice is quiet. "A bit above my pay grade, chere."

"I took away his powers...and erased half his face." Her voice drops off into quietness toward the end of that sentence. She's not proud of it--not at all, nothing she did that day makes her happy or proud, but it's a way of telling Remy how she feels about her father, at least indirectly. She can't quite completely express it, not the way she'd like to, not yet, but for as much as they are connected by blood and she is gentle with his alternate, she has no qualms about putting her foot down.

Or through.

"I just wanted him to shut up, to take one moment to really look at what he was doing to us, to the people near him. But he wouldn't. He only saw himself, and us as reflections of him." There's a closed-eyes moment like she's flinching at something, at memory, and she pulls back in on herself a bit, withdrawing not from Remy but so she can reposition her sense of self. "I know you've seen many people get drawn in to his plans and lose themselves in the process, too."

That is... a lot.

It speaks to just how invested Remy is that his first reaction is not to feel vindicated, but instead coldly moved at just how hard Wanda must have been pushed to do something that disturbing. He knows that Magneto was among the mutants depowered (and no one was surprised), but the details - he's sure Xavier knows, and her brother. But he'd never even imagined. It makes him hate that man all the much more.

"You should never have been in that position." He hasn't let go of her hand. "None of us... these lives we lead. The toll it takes."

They both know it's unbelievable; unreal. But it's just life.

"I'm sorry."

That she had to do that. That Magneto did it to her to begin with. That Remy's being hard-headed.

Wanda isn't unusual, as far as so-called 'superheroes' go: she's seen a lot, and she's internalized most of it. Things keep rolling, and that's not something that needs a lot of fanfare, but maybe a little more notice, where Wanda was concerned.

And when it concerns some family members of hers.

"I know. I do. You get it." She tilts her head to face him more fully, her voice (and eyes) a little more intent. "And I know that you trust me...but I also need you to know that I trust you, and your judgment. In all things, including when it involves him."

Wanda certainly understands why he'll be reminding her of what Erik can do, and why he'll feel some anxiety about Magneto at any age being in the city...this is the best way she can think of to try to alleviate some of that.

Edited 2011-10-28 03:10 (UTC)

He nods. She's right. A flicker of an expression, wry but appreciative; he doesn't deserve her. Truly. But god, does he love her. (Thinking that lately has felt really right. It's good.)

"So now that we've established I am not as distant from a few things things as I thought," he says on an exhale, quite definitely feeling like an asshole but - well. There's a silver lining to self-recognition, at least.

"What's our plan of action, here?"

Remy returns Wanda's look, steady - really, this time.

Edited 2011-10-28 04:01 (UTC)

"Sleep really hard to night," she suggests, as a slightly lighter remark; she knows they have to really run this ship tightly, but she's so grateful they have this home to come back to, even if they keep getting abducted to strange cities.

"We'll keep a close eye on him...but I don't think it should be in a way where he knows we're watching him." And she does genuinely want to explore being friends with her father as a young man, but that won't change her desire to curb his impulses. "He'll need to focus his energy on something."

At that he smiles, and there's a moment where it's the sort of smile that says he's just going to pick her up and go right now - no. He is absent of any immediate impulses besides the one to be near her. (That's the only rational one, anyway, as the desire to put Erik out a metaphorical airlock and wish away any memory of his appearance is not one he can indulge in.)

"If he knows, he'll get paranoid." And considering this is a man whose only loyalty is his own vision anyway, that would be bad. "I think, given the things that go on in this place, we'll be able to find something to put him to work on pretty quick."

Manipulative, yes. But necessary. The devil's hands are always going to be busy; they just need to be able to see them.

Edited 2011-10-28 21:30 (UTC)

She exhales a little, with relief, glad to have some promise of keeping Erik away from...what, forming the Brotherhood? Maybe she should view that as an inevitability, but nothing is written in stone. There are enough alternate universes they've encountered even just at home to allow for all sorts of possibilities, as long as she acknowledges her father's nature.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him...and won't be used to hurt anyone else. The boys, especially. They're the same age I was when he found us."

Somewhere, maybe, there's a world out there where Magneto is a great guy. He leads the mutants fighting for peace in that Apocalypse-future they erased, but even there, his methods were not anything less than brutal - merely in a different context. Remy wants to believe that there are infinite possibilities for a person, especially in the face of having once killed his own alternate, but Erik Lehnsherr is not the person they can take that gamble on.

"They've got their mom with 'em." Something Wanda and Pietro didn't have, then. A protector with experience.

It's true, and it's something she wishes she could have extended to them earlier, but--

She's here now. That's something. And for once, she doesn't spend an extended amount of time beating herself up over the fact that she couldn't have been there, given what was done to her memory, and later events.

"And I have you." She moves forward to press her lips to the corner of Remy's mouth, one of those casual displays of affection that require no thought on her part. "I'm lucky. -- I can feel you starting to say something flippantly argumentative, so let me cut you off. I'm lucky."

He smiles, fond in a way he hasn't felt in a long time. "I wasn't." Half-protest, half-assurance. Remy is happy - and determined - to be here for Wanda, and support her. So yes, she's got him. Her luck, however. He raises his hands and brushes her hair back from her face, taking a minute just to look at her - she's so strong, in that easy, quiet way he sometimes associates with Ororo; Wanda carries it like other people breathe.

Wouldn't this be a lovely note to end their evening on?

"I have to tell you something."

(It would have been.)

"I didn't know for a long time - I plain couldn't figure it out." He laughs a little, and the only hint of humor in it is wry and tired. His gaze drops, looking at the coffee table. "And then I was out with Laura. And then I got stuck. And then we were here and I was waitin' for things to settle down and..."

He raises his hands, a sort of helpless, inevitable gesture, then shrugs in defeat, looking back at Wanda. "I'm sorry. Just - before I say anything else. I'm sorry for doing this right now."

But he has to get it out.

This is never a good sign, in their world, or frankly, in their relationship--but in a way, Wanda feels like it's better that they do this. Both of them have a tendency to keep certain things to themselves out of habit, and an inability to trust many others (admittedly, her trust issues were primarily exacerbated after she learned about her memory alterations regarding the twins) outside of this close-knit nest they've formed.

So she looks Remy in the eyes, takes a breath, and nods.

"It's all right. I'm listening."

But she's anxious, too, increasingly so, about what it might be.

Their relationship will never be free from road bumps or crazy happenings, their own doing or from external sources; the bright spot about this is that Remy is telling her at all and, what's more, was planning on doing so. (He wanted to tell Rogue about the Marauders, once. He'd tried to get her to touch him for it. Wanda'd had to get it out of his head by accident. Haphazard and broken as he is still, this is progress.)

"Something from Apocalypse is inside me still."

There is no easy or gentle way to say that. No way to cushion it without horror or dread; it's terrible. Flat out.

"When I was a kid," because there's context, and it's unpleasant context - that Wanda knows some of, in part, "Sinister did something to my brain to keep me from accessing the full spectrum of my mutation. Once he told me it was a block. Another time he told me he removed a part of my brain. I've never know for sure what he did. When I was workin' for New Sun, he overloaded me with energy that wasn't really mine, and ultimately, I burned it out of me. Now - Sinister fucked with my head when he was bringin' me back from being the Horseman. I thought he'd removed the block to make sure I had to come back to him, somethin' like that, but I'm older'n wiser, now, an' I had all that experience with New Sun..."

Remy trails off a bit, and runs one hand over his hair, faintly stressed by relating all this - it just feels unnatural, being so open with his business, even if he wants to be. Patterns of behavior over intent; he recognizes it for what it is, at least.

"I can control it. It was shaky at first but I've been doin' fine. I thought it was worse than it was, because this... stuff kept happening. I couldn't explain it, I couldn't remember. I wasn't sure what it was but I didn't want to worry anybody."

(Oh, Remy.)

He's quiet for a bit, sitting forward, elbows on his knees, hands laced, looking for a moment like he'd rather be up and pacing. When he speaks again it seems like a topic jump at first, inexplicable - but it's not.

"The last time I was in Utopia on my own - right as Summers was kickin' my ass out - the lot of 'em found out Illyana had been sent back to Limbo in a freak accident defendin' that girl Hope. Cyclops wouldn't let nobody go after her. He forbade it, 'cross the board. Everybody of any strategic value had to stay, he said. She weren't no priority, no matter how much Pete yelled."

Remy's voice is quiet; there's something under it, like bitterness, or maybe just the inevitable sort of exhaustion that comes from dealing with Scott Summers and the paramilitary bleakness of what the X-Men have become. Even Xavier these days... they've all given up. Rolled over for the new dawn of Frost and Summers, Leaders of Utopia.

"Finally he let Sam Guthrie - Cannonball - take a team and go, but he had to pick from people who weren't required on the front lines. Which meant folks who he thought were expendable, or the students. Kids, Wanda. Kids and people who have no business goin' to hell - and he was forcing them into Limbo, or sacrifice Magik.

Cannonball, Dazzler, an' Northstar, with Trance, Pixie, and Anole. I went. Kids, a speedster - Alison's an entertainer, not a soldier, and Guthrie's got no business leadin' nobody nowhere. He's a good kid but he's not hard enough for that. I knew it was gonna be a disaster. I could leave Utopia and I could leave Rogue but I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I'd walked out knowin' they were heading off to Limbo like that."

Edited 2011-11-04 02:59 (UTC)

He's still mad about it, in a lot of ways. It would have been no problem to send Betsy and Colossus and be done with the thing in an hour. Fucker.

"...I remember gettin' there. And starting to look. Demons, hundreds of 'em, started crawlin' up outta the ground. They'd been waiting. And I remember Ali just - screaming, gettin' dragged under."

Remy's looking down again, at his hands, gaze distant.

"Twice before I've blacked out an' not known why. This time I remembered. Limbo is hell alive, a whole world made up of every nightmare, every dark force. It reached into me and yanked out Death in a heartbeat. I could see and hear everything that happened, like a dream. I couldn't control a damn thing. I had to watch as I broke down Alison and Jean-Paul, corrupted them into - I don't even know, minions. He had my voice and my face but it was somethin' else, with my hands. I woulda killed all of them, I -" He laughs, sharp and unpleasant. "- Got rid of every one of those damn demons, ended up freein' Illyana in the process, but then? Beat Sam within an inch of his life. Pixie n' Magik had to jam both their soulswords into me to get me to stop. An' even then..."

He shakes his head, shoulders hunched over. The memories disturb him more than anything has in a long, long time. "I still had to drag it outta my own head. They all think it was Limbo doin' it to the three of us an' nobody came after me and even asked, but I know what it was, it was Death. Apocalypse's Death. It's still in me."

She is mostly able to control her reactions as he speaks, until he gets to this situation that Cyclops had set up, this untenable problem. Then something in Wanda's expression changes. Instead of tensing, it's slack. It's the patient, almost absent sort of anger that only overtakes her on rare occasions.

If she saw Scott Summers right now, she doesn't know what she'd do to him.

The moment passes, with the lift of her chin and the twist of her mouth, the inscrutability eventually yielding genuine emotion, but...he's supposed to be better than that. Wanda can't even really call herself anyone's hero anymore, but in her absence, what the hell has become of the people she believed you could rely on to stay steady? Now they're power-mad, "cutting losses," playing games with people's lives.

Including Remy's.

The revelation of Apocalypse inside him takes her less aback than he might have thought, but it's horrifying enough that she looks at him with a kind of sympathy. If anyone understands what it's like to have something terrible and enormous in you, a piece of a monster, it's Wanda.

Chthon's never been able to claim her, but he's certainly tried.

"Remy..." She moves closer to curl one arm around him. Touch is one of their little reassurances between each other. It's impressive, she thinks, that he managed to hide this the hole time.

"I'm so sorry."

Sometimes he wonders - were they ever heroes, any of them? They tried to band together, to create an institution within society for mutants behaving with integrity and agency. To own their identities, and to make stand; they never asked it of all mutants, and never tried to speak for them all, either, but strove to protect and defend all the same.

It seems so different now.

He's surprised when Wanda touches him, even more when she says she's sorry - why, it's his fault, these are choices he's made - but then he's not, a heartbeat after. He turns against her and pulls her into his arms, practically into his lap, holding her like it grounds him (maybe it does).

"If anything happens to me, if it gets out of my head-" quiet, but very serious- "You have to drop my ass in Bonetown and keep me there. I can't risk putting you or the boys in danger, especially with Magneto around. I don't think anything here is on the level of Limbo as far as triggers go but I don't want to not have a plan if something does happen."

If he's dragging her almost into his lap, she may as well complete the task and end up there entirely, she figures, keeping her arm around him. Wanda squeezes Remy's shoulder, comforting. She doesn't know what that looks like for him, showing the face of what Apocalypse did to him, but she remembers that moment when her power went awry and she saw things in his past. It gives her a clearer idea than most people would have, she's pretty sure.

"I will." It's steady, and not the dangerous kind of flat calm that she manifests on occasion. Matter-of-fact, more like. She is actually quite grateful for Bonetown, in a way. "If anybody can handle that, Remy, and, if necessary, lock you down until who you really are comes back to us, it's me."

And with Wanda Maximoff, that's not bravado.

"That's a promise."

Bonetown is frightening, but it's useful in a poignant way - the both of them, for a whole host of reasons, know how mutant abilities can hurt. (Society, the bearer, anyone.) It's a convenient niche that's more humane than the grotesque torture devices that the inhibitor collars are, and worlds better than violence.

Remy looks up at her, taking in the gravity of her words and the sheer capability she holds in her hands. There was a time when he wouldn't say something like you have to stop me, he'd have asked her to just kill him - but he doesn't want that, now. There's no lingering death wish buried in his heart. He's not sure when it changed.

"You know I love you, right?" Whispered.

There's a quiet little nod, and the faint curve of her smile, shadowed, somewhat, by all the ridiculous curls she's got. Wanda tips her head so her hair falls away from her face.

"I love you. And I am glad that you told me; I know it wasn't easy for you." She does sort of wish it had come sooner, as this is something of a one-two punch with Erik's arrival, but expressing these kinds of secrets is hard for both of them and she gets that there was never really a convenient moment. Things were crazy. They had been for a while. Instead of waiting for things to time up right, sometimes you just had to make it happen.

He leans back a bit, hands sliding up from her waist to her shoulders, holding her so that he has to look up to see her, and smiles - apologetic and affectionate at once.

"You deserve better than my shit, Wanda." It's less self-deprecating than usual; he's got a point, though. "I promise you that I will be here through this, for the boys, for you, for us. Nothing's more important than that to me."

Not his fears or his issues or his hang-ups. It's taken a long time for Remy to really come around to understanding how selfish keeping things hidden is, really, even though he was never malicious about it - he does all these stupid things sideways, but in his heart, this is what's important. Wanda being in Erik's line of fire terrifies him a thousand times more than his own demons do.

"I know."

Sometimes she wonders how much of the behaviors Remy's reviled for back home were self-fulfilling prophecies. If you constantly tell someone you expect the worst from them, you probably shouldn't be surprised, Wanda figures, that you get more of that behavior in return. It's not that she set about trying to change him, but more and more, as they occasionally encounter other X-Men that aren't Laura, it takes her aback at how they view someone she considers so loyal and brave.

Flawed, of course. But they both are.

"Sometimes I think...whoever may be responsible for all these moves, these transitions from city to city we have had over the years, they think they can break us." She meets Remy's eyes, smile reappearing. "We just keep proving them wrong."

Wanda's proud of them for lasting this long.

Remy is still the same man he's always been, it's just that with Wanda, he's able to behave how he's actually inclined to, instead of reverting into a mass of reactionary nerves and angry defensive behavior. There's that saying: true love doesn't complete you or change you, you're just a better person with them. When the hell did this happen?

"I meant it when I said I'm in it for keeps, chere. All these worlds, you and me."

Against all odds, they've figure it out.

Wanda curls her hand against the side of his neck and dips her head down to kiss him, just once, but lingering. "Do you think 'you and me' have a little time to ourselves to have a drink and...breathe, a bit, before the boys come in?"

"Sure thing." Murmured against her - Remy kisses her again, grateful and like a promise. (Of... many things, look, he's not a chaste preteen.) He sits back up enough and shifts his hold on her as if he's about to pick her up - maybe he is! "What do you feel like?"

Drinks, he means.

Wanda leans back just enough to give him a considering, playful look from her position perched on his lap. Which she's finding she quite likes, for the record. "If I started in on that, you'd never get out of this room."

Madam.

She taps fingertips against his shoulders. "I'm not particular, when it comes to alcohol. Not after this day."

On his lap she remains, in that case - even as he stands up, yes, lifting her easily with one arm under her knees and the other staying at her back. "See I'd dare you, but then one of the boys'd walk right in, no?" The trials and tribulations of parenthood, his good-natured smirk seems to say. ('Upstairs, then', also.)

"I believe we got beer, some cheap market wine, two leftover wine coolers an' the bottle of god-only-knows whiskey I got bribed with last week."

When he settles her on the kitchen counter he stays close, one hand on either side of her hips against the edge of the tile.

"Almost certainly," she confirms for him, with a breezy note to her voice--she doesn't like to risk it, but it's just a hazard of a full house.

When Remy sets her on the counter at this angling, Wanda helpfully uses her knees to snag him by the legs, tugging him just a that little much closer. She tips her head back, smile slight but definite. Her hands, meanwhile, go to his shirtfront, pressing there. "I don't think I really want to open hard liquor with the boys somewhere around here. Wine is okay for me."

...if she wants that to be acquired, she's going to have to let go. Dilemma.

Edited 2011-11-07 12:15 (UTC)

"S'good idea." Indeed, the nearest wine bottle is stuck in the top shelf of a cabinet over there, notably out of immediate reach... and Remy declines to make a grab for it, anyway, instead leaning into Wanda's hands and flashing a bit of a smile before he kisses her.

At least they are in the kitchen and not on the sofa if anyone busts in, right? Right?

At least. Wanda should probably be more concerned with the potential interruptions, but everything falls together with Remy so nicely, especially as it pertains to physicality. She also can't resist reaching up to give his hair a good tug, because she is terrible in the stealthiest way.

She follows that up by breaking apart just enough to breathe.

"Wine?" Did you forget, sir?

It's so innocently posed that she must be trolling. Especially since she still has her hand in his hair, though it's looser, now.

Yes, he did.

(Well.)

He's got his hands on her hips now, holding her close (as if she's going to bolt away, sitting on the counter), and if she thinks he's got any objections to her particular methods of distracting him then she's just not paying very close attention. Remy glances cabinet-ward, turning his head a bit as if considering, and then turns back, brushing his nose against hers.

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?"

Sneaking around in their little house, dodging sleeping (maybe) children upstairs. So what, super villain in-laws and promises to disable one another in disaster have interrupted. That's life.

She can't help giggling a little, just briefly and faintly, which is not a sound most people ever hear from her in the first place. Wanda drags her nails lightly against the back of Remy's neck, going 'hmm,' ever so thoughtfully, as though she isn't doing anything at all.

She's not really all that invested in getting that. Surprise.

"It's wonderful, in fact. There's something about us and kitchens, though, have you noticed?"

Wanda distinctly remembers that conversation when the toaster or whatever it was exploded. And she had no pants on.

He loves that sound, and he grins, swaying against her playfully and nearly-kissing her lips - it might be teasing, but then he says:

"I think there might be somethin' about us and most places, chere, but if you can stick a do-not-disturb-bubble over this kitchen I ain't gonna complain-"

He probably wanted her to bite him for that, but boy, does he get his wish, if that's the case. While she rarely ever thinks of him in terms of comparing Remy to men she's known in the past, the amount of playfulness in their relationship is sort of unprecedented for her.

Wanda sort of thinks maybe that's part of what makes it stick so well.

"Somehow I think that might be an abuse of my powers," Wanda says, mock-reproachfully, "and furthermore it would almost certainly wake someone up."

Jeez, Wanda, it's like you aren't trying to deter him at all.

He nearly cracks up after she bites him, and he ends up laughing against her shoulder, muffled. "You know," he says, and takes the opportunity of his proximity to investigate her neck, jaw, her ear- "So might creepin' up the stairs, which you think feels most lucky?"

Wanda is momentarily derailed by the little sound he manages to elicit from her, but she's coherent enough to speak, fortunately.

"Let's risk those stairs," she declares. "Everything else can wait."

It doesn't have much of a choice.

He grins, and pulls her into his arms again, purposeful.

"Yes ma'am."