Summary: A continuation of `Love
Note: I messed with both of their characters. But it's
my (demented) story, so...
Disclaimer: Angel is Joss Whedon's. Remy is Marvel's.
The two men sat in companionable silence, both puffing on
cigarettes and wearing identical looks of sorrowful regret
and loss. A thin haze of smoke, the result of months of nothing
to do but talk and smoke, hung over the non descript room.
Finally, Remy flicked his cigarette away. "So anyway,
I think that she saved me, right?" he said suddenly,
as if continuing a long standing conversation.
Angel nodded, slinking deeper into his chair. "Yeah.
The citadel was falling, your head was in a guillotine..."
"But Rogue gets me out. So I think she's going to forgive
me. But then she dumps me into the snow and leaves me there
to freeze." Remy narrowed his red on black eyes triumphantly.
This time, he'd be sure to win their angst bout. Angel may
have been roasting in Hell, but he spun a much better tale.
Hell, anything sounded better if it were spoken with an accent.
"I got sent to Hell by my girlfriend after she told
me to close my eyes and kissed me," Angel responded.
He slunk further down, and Remy had to wonder if a vampiric
trait was a spine made of jello.
Remy's lips parted to deliver the next line in their well
worn dialogue when he was interrupted by the sudden and rather
shocking appearance of a door popping into the middle of the
Angel blinked in confusion, while Remy's eyes widened eagerly.
This was their chance to escape! They'd get out eventually
if they left it to their respective creative teams, but why
wait if this door could save them now? Besides, after the
treatment he'd received, Remy wasn't about to let his fate
sit in the hands of any writer.
A blue and gold bundle tumbled through the door, landing
on the floor with a startled oath. A silver head shook uncertainly.
"What's going on here? What happened to Sabra?"
a familiar and all too unwelcomed voice mumbled.
"Sorry Joe, but we've gotta run," Remy said, grinning
happily as he leapt to his feet. He wobbled slightly, his
legs having become accustomed an easy life in a waiting room
chair. But the chance of freedom, and the fear of being stuck
in the same room as amnesia boy sent him scurrying forward.
Angel, being no dummy, followed Remy's example. Moments later,
the two angsty men were barreling toward the wavering door.
When the disorienting blur before their eyes faded, Remy
and Angel found themselves standing in a cemetery of all places.
Remy scowled, but Angel's eyes lightened up.
"Don't see what's so happy `bout a cemetery" Remy
grumbled. He'd half expected to step through the door and
land in Rogue's waiting arms. After that hopeful image, this
was just a bit of a let down.
But Angel's mind was filled with the memories of the nights
he and Buffy had spent lip locked in just such a place. In
fact, Angel looked around his surroundings more critically,
this was their cemetery! And right over their
was their favorite make out headstone...
"I'm home!" Angel exclaimed giddily.
Remy glanced at him. So that's what a non-angsting vampire
sounds like, he thought. "So you going to go see your
Angel paused in his happy, giggly, in no way mysterious and
broody dance. "Um... Do think she'd want to see me again?
I know that she loves me and all that, but you know, people
are going to want us to work through our issues."
"This ain't your show, Angel! Nobody here cares about
your issues, they just want you and Buffy to fly into each
others arms." Remy stared into space dreamily as his
words continued, in more detail in his own mind. "...
and find that she's learned to control her powers, and that
she's totally confident in herself and in our relationship,
and that years of not being able to touch anyone has made
her real eager for--"
"--her!" Angel's excited cry burst through Remy's
fantasy before it could violate the comics code.
"Huh?" Remy replied, shooing his fantasy into the
back of his mind where he could pursue it later privately,
and in much closer detail.
"That's her. Buffy's here!" Angel composed himself,
turning for Giggly Vampire Guy into Broody, Mysterious, Tortured,
Vampire Hunk with a Soul. "She must be out patrolling..."
Buffy, hearing her toasted love's words, looked up, surprise
apparent in her eyes. "Angel!" she cried out, shock
warring with delirious joy.
"Oooohhh yeah Buffy!"
"Uh? Oh... Buffy? Ooooh, honey? I... ahhhh.... this
"Remy. My name is Remy."
Buffy seemed much more interested in a thorough inspection
of Angel's mouth than in the stranger accompanying him. But
she drew up enough willpower to pull herself away from him.
"Pleased to... *gasp*... meet you."
The small group fell into an uncomfortable silence for a
moment. Buffy's hand inched towards Angel's, and seeing the
glazed look in the Slayer's eyes, Remy decided that it might
be best to try to find Rogue before he got treated to another
view of Buffy's pleasure to have Angel back.
"Well, I'm going to go find Rogue now," Remy stated.
I just hope I get as warm a welcome as Angel did.'
His fantasy prodded at his awareness, begging to be let out
in all its delightful glory. Remy reluctantly leashed it back,
promising to let if free reign in just a bit.
"I'll come with you. After hearing so much about her,
I want to meet this woman," Angel said.
Remy had a sneaking suspicion that Angel's eagerness to accompany
him had more to do with a certain librarian, hacker and annoying
boy than genuine interest in Rogue. "Sure."
"I'm coming with you," Buffy said firmly, her hand
squeezing Angel's as if she'd never let go.
"Why not?" Remy shrugged.
Several minutes later (after discovering that Rogue
was vacationing in Sunnydale and had rented a room in a nearby
motel. A lucky break for all involved. Ain't coincidences
"Remy, Ah learned to control my powers, I'm totally
confident in myself and our relationship, and years without
touching has made me incredibly eager for smoochies!"
"Excuse me, miss. But this is my kissy
"Oh. Sorry about that."
And thus, the two angsty couples were reunited, and there
was smoochies for all.
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