Title: The ghost of Christmas present.

Fandom: X-Men.

Parings: Remy/ Bobby.

Rating: R.

Status: finished.

Category: drama, alternate universe, angst.

Archive: Yes, just drop me a note telling me where you're archiving it.

E-mail address for feedback: morganalebeau@yahoo.com.

Series/Sequel: Sequel to New Year's Eve at the LeBeau household.

Disclaimer: Gambit and X-Men is (c)copyright of Marvel Comics. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Twelve years have passed and Remy's stuck at Westchester during Christmas.

The ghost of Christmas present.

The diary Jean-Luc gave me twelve years ago is tattered now. The photographs inside lost their brilliance and I wish they would still hold the fascination they held years ago. But too much has happened over the years. The big four poster bed is the only tangible thing the past left me. Jean-Luc insisted I take it with me when I was banished from New Orleans. After I decided to settle down at Westchester he had it delivered to the mansion. I allow my hands to caress the familiar fabric; the blankets warmed me when I was a child.

It's lonely at the mansion right now. Only Hank and Bobby are still there. The others left to spend Christmas with their loved ones or to take a much deserved vacation. I'm relieved that Rogue left as well. Her presence was suffocating me. Over the years my charm grew much stronger. I know now that charm is the wrong term for it, I'm an empath, but I keep that knowledge to myself. No one needs to know; they don't trust me anyway.

Shivering, I pull up a blanket and wrap it around my body. It's snowing again and the white blanket outside reminds me too much of my ordeal in Antarctica. If I hadn't met Magneto's house ghost I would never have made it out alive. I do owe Rogue for helping me get rid of her. I hoped we would get back together again when she came after me, but our 'happiness' only lasted one week. That's how long it took us to go back to fighting again.

We called it quits two months ago and the loneliness has only grown worse. Scott's been trying to rebuild some measure of friendship, but he's only doing that because the team will benefit from it, not because he cares about me. Jean's okay too, but Rogue, Warren, Betsy and even Storm are avoiding me. I'm not sure about the professor; he's hard to read. Xavier is letting me stay for his own reasons; he needs me on the team.

Why did I come back? I'm stuck at the boathouse and can't move back to the mansion. Scott offered to help me move back to my old room, but I refused; I don't feel I have the right to live there. I wish Jean-Luc and tante were here to help me through this, but that's wishful thinking. I can't ever go back to New Orleans and they can't leave because the Guild needs them.

A photograph of Bisou falls onto the bed and I look at it fondly. I loved that dog with a passion and I took it hard when he died. He'd developed a tumor and we discovered the lump too late. The vet put him to sleep and I held him when he released his last breath. Jean-Luc offered to buy me a new puppy, but no dog could replace Bisou so I told him no. "Wish you were still here, Bisou."

It's going to be a lonely Christmas this year, which I'll be spending here at the boathouse. I doubt Hank and Bobby want me around. They are best friends and I would only be an inconvenience. Stuck here, there are two things I can do. Make the best of it and get a tree in here, cook Christmas dinner and call Jean-Luc later tonight or just sit here depressed and frustrated. The first option involves energy I don't have left so the second one wins.

I lie down, pull the blankets up to my chin and stare at the snowflakes dancing in front of my window. I shouldn't give into depression, but I'm too tired to fight it any longer. I've been feeling like this for months now, but managed to uphold a front that fooled them all.

Closing my eyes, I try to remember Bisou's warm fur, tante's humming and the spicy fragrance of Jean-Luc's cigars. Oui, I'll call poppa later. Maybe he's at home and we can talk for some minutes. I'd like that.

I'm still shivering, but it's no longer due to the cold. The blankets are keeping me warm. The shivers are caused by the immense loneliness that surrounds me. I never coped well with being alone. Closing my eyes, I will myself to fall asleep. It's an old trick Jean-Luc taught me and it still works. Drifting off into oblivion I try to hold on to memories of my family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on, Remy! Open up! I know you're in there!"

Startled, I sit upright in bed. I recognize the voice and get to my feet. What's Bobby doing out here at this hour? It's dinner time and he should be at the mansion, enjoying the meal with Hank. "I'm on my way, Drake," I call out, uncertain he can hear me. I almost stumble over my own two feet as I hurry downstairs. Opening the front door I steel myself against the cold.

"What took you so long?" Bobby shakes his head, mildly amused, and steps into the corridor.

"I was 'sleep." Caught off guard, the truth slips out. I quickly close the door behind him and shiver at the cold he brings with him. Bobby moved on to the living room and I follow him, wrapping my arms around my waist, trying to ward off the cold. "Is somet'in' wrong?" The only reason I can think of for Bobby to come here is that the team needs me for a mission.

Bobby sits down on the couch and smiles saddened. "Hank unexpectedly announced he was going to spend Christmas with his family. Originally he didn't want to go and to continue his research instead, but they called him and asked him to spend the holidays with them. Now I'm alone at the mansion."

I shrug my shoulders, still wondering why he's here. "Why aren' you wit' your boyfriend?"

Bobby's eyes narrow suspiciously and his body tenses. "What do you know about my boyfriend?"

"You ain' good at keepin' secrets, Drake. I don' have Logan's sense of smell, but I distinctly detected de strange cologne on you when you got home a few weeks ago. You should also tell your lover not to leave any passion marks above de collar." Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up. Bobby is insecure about his new relationship and I don't want him to freak out because I know about them. "Ain' my business anyway." Turning my back toward Bobby I stare out of the window. It stopped snowing.

Bobby clears his throat. His tone is uncharacteristically quiet when he finally speaks. "Andy and I are no longer together."

"I'm sorry to hear dat." I'm truly sorry that his relationship didn't work out.

Bobby voice suddenly starts to tremble. "I realized I didn't really love him. He was second choice because I can't have the real thing."

Bowing my head, I rest my shoulder against the wall for support. "Den you did good, breakin' off de relationship, Bobby." I pause briefly to gather my thoughts and strengthen my shields; I don't want to involuntarily glance at Bobby's feelings. "Why are you here?"

"I still need to pick up some groceries for tonight's dinner. Wanna join me?"

Surprised, I look over my shoulder and search his face. He genuinely seems to want my company. "I ain' good company right now, Bobby." I don't know why but I hold my breath as he rises from the couch to join me in front of the window.

"You know you're always welcome at the mansion, don't you? You don't need to stay here."

"Dat's what Scott says, mais I know betta, Bobby." I avert my eyes and shiver, feeling his body heat. It feels good to have another person close, but it won't last. I can't allow it to last. "Go shoppin' alone, Drake."

"No, you're coming with me. I refuse to spend Christmas Eve alone and although I love Twinkies I want a real Christmas meal. Come on, Remy, it'll be fun!"

Don't give in, I admonish myself. Don't give in! But then his arm's around my waist and he's pulling me towards the door while picking up my coat at the same time. "Bobby, non..." But my resolve is weakening and I don't object when he drapes the coat over my shoulders.

"We can cook dinner here if you don't want to stay at the mansion and I'll even haul a tree in here. Come on, Cajun!"

How can I refuse him? I can't. It feels too good to have him close, to let his presence warm me and bring me back to life. I allow him to pull me outside and the shivers grow worse. I never did do cold well.

"We'll get the groceries first, buy a tree, more decorations and we'll put it up in your living room. You can help me cook dinner and maybe we'll find a great movie to watch. I think I've got Scrooged on video, we can pop that one in."

I let Bobby ramble and suddenly find myself in Scott's car. "Bobby? Do you have any money on you?" I haven't.

"I've got Scott's credit card." Bobby smiles smugly and keys the ignition.

Realizing there's no way out, I resign myself to this situation and watch the mansion grow smaller as Bobby drives to the closest mall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remy, you can't deny that it's the perfect tree!" Bobby proudly gazes at the tree he selected. "It's not too big, not too small, it's perfect!"

I gave up fighting him a long time ago. It was between having to taste chocolate and strawberry ice cream because he couldn't make up his mind which one to have for dessert tonight. "Oui, it's perfect." Bobby gives me a suspicious look, knowing I'm letting him have his way too easily.

"Okay, I'll go pay for it and you can haul it to the car." Bobby walks away and his smug smile turns into a pleased grin.

Sighing, I start my way back to the car, taking the tree with me. Involuntarily I'm reminded of Jean-Luc's Christmas tree. How I wish I could spend Christmas at home, but it's not going to happen.

Soft whimpers coming from my right attract my attention and I try to pinpoint the source of the miserable sounds. "Oh, you poor t'ing." It's a dog, old and famished. He's hiding behind the trash cans and I drop the tree onto the concrete to check on the dog. "You're hungry, non?" Sad eyes stare back at me and they hold a sorrow so damned familiar to me that I stroke his head. Warmth radiates from the dog's mind and it takes me aback, knowing I should lock out his feelings, but I can't.

"Remy? What are you doing?" Bobby's back and walks up behind me. He sits on his heels and tries to get a better look at the poor creature. "What did you find?"

"He's hungry..." Tears are building in my eyes, but I can't allow them to surface and I fight them back. We bought steak for tonight's dinner... would Bobby mind if I fed it to the poor thing? What I really want is to take him to the boathouse and make sure he's comfortable. I don't want Bobby to know that I sense impending death on the dog. He probably won't make it through the night.

"Remy?" Surprised, Bobby places his right hand on my shoulder. "Talk to me, what's going on? You're crying."

Merde! Quickly, I wipe away my tears. "Rien!" I try to get to my feet, but Bobby's hand keeps me in place. Nauseous, I wish he'd leave me alone with the dog.

"We can take him to a vet if you want to," Bobby offers.

"De vet can' help him, Bobby." Merde, that's more than I want him to know.

"What do you mean?" Bobby studies the dog. "He looks..."

"Old, malnourished..." I finish for him and cave in. "He's dyin', won' last de night."

Bobby's breath hitches. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

The funny thing is that he doesn't even question my words; doesn't even want to know why I think the dog's dying. Instead of answering Bobby, I carefully slip my hands beneath the starved dog's body and lift him gently. "I wanna take him home and let him die in peace," I finally whisper, informing Bobby of my intentions and if he has a problem with that I don't care!

"Lemme help." Bobby picks up the tree and starts for the car. He secures the tree and then opens the car door. "We'll go home and make sure he's comfortable."

I'm relieved Bobby's isn't protesting my decision and I tightly hold the dog as I slip onto the passenger's seat. His old bones are causing him pain and tormented brown eyes lock with mine. I know he's feeling me, much like I can feel his presence in my mind. It's been years since I used my empathy to lessen pain and I find myself reaching out, locking his pain away.

"What are you doing?" Bobby's driving away from the mall, giving me an odd look. "He seems calmer and stopped whimpering."

I don't want Bobby to know about my empathy so I remain quiet, concentrating on the animal in my arms. Although he's a different breed than Bisou he bears some resemblance to him. Peeking at Bobby, I find he's biting his lower lip. I sense his curiosity and even some hurt because I won't talk to him. "Bobby, it's... personal. You didn' do any't'in' wrong." That seems to reassure him a little.

"I guess you just took me by surprise," Bobby admits. "You never struck me as the kind of guy who'd take in strays."

I release a bitter laugh. They don't know me at all. None of the X-Men does. "Den you don' know much 'bout me, non?" Bobby nods his head and that surprises me. "Bobby?"

"I don't know you at all, Remy," he admits softly. "Damned shame, considering you've been living with us for years."

I avoid his eyes and look outside instead. The dog has grown calm in my arms and is dozing comfortably. "You never made de effort to get to know me." None of them did.

"Maybe this is my chance to find out more about you," Bobby whispers softly while approaching the mansion's gates. "I've got the feeling I'm in for a lot of surprises."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I expect him to drop me off at the boathouse and then leave for the mansion, but Bobby shuts down the engine and drags the Christmas tree inside, putting it in the center of the living room. Then he returns to the car to get the lights and decorations. I watch him from the couch, still cradling the sleepy dog in my arms. "Bobby?"

"Yeah?" Bobby switches on the Christmas lights and takes a step back to admire his handy work.

"Would you get a blanket from my bedroom? Make dat two." I'd go myself, but I don't want to let go of the dog.

"Sure, Remy." Bobby strides upstairs and collects the blankets. "Where do you want them?"

"Put dem on de ot'er end of de couch."

Bobby creates a cocoon and smiles. "He'll be comfortable here. Want me to fix him something to eat?"

Bobby surprises me. I never expected him to want to take care of the dog. "Oui, merci." I carry the dog over to the blankets and tuck them around him. A contented sigh slips into my mind and I fight my watering eyes, knowing his last hours have arrived. The feel of death on him is growing stronger.

Minutes later Bobby returns with a bowl, filled with meat which he already cut into tiny pieces. "I reckon he doesn't have any teeth left," he explains. "I had a dog of my own once and when he got old he lost his teeth. We had to put him to sleep eventually."

That explains why he's worried about the dog. "Merci, Bobby." Using my empathy to encourage the dog to eat, I place the bowl in front of him. I'm stroking his head, rubbing behind his ears and he seems at peace. I almost forget about Bobby, but then his words pull me back.

"I'll start dinner. I could use your help, but it's okay if you want to stay with him."

Bobby... why is he so nice to me all of a sudden? Looking up at him, I'm assaulted by his emotions and I block them at once. I won't spy on him! "I'll join you in a minute." Bobby disappears into the kitchen, giving me some time alone with the dog. "You don' have to be 'fraid, petit. You'll fall asleep and dere won' be any pain. I promise." He'll have a peaceful death. He's eaten all he can and his eyes close again. "Sleep, petit. I'll be close and when de time comes I'll make it easy on you."

I need a moment to compose myself before I can join Bobby in the kitchen. He's already boiling the potatoes and grilling the steaks. I don't feel hungry at all but I will make an effort to eat because Bobby went through all this trouble.

"You ever had a dog, Remy?" Bobby's washing the greens.

I can't see his face as his back is turned toward me. I moisten my dry lips before answering him. "Oui, his name was Bisou."

"Bisou? That's a strange name for a dog. Help me out here; I don't know that much French."

"It means kiss."

"Kiss?" This time Bobby turns around and looks up. "Why did you name him 'kiss'?

"When I got him he was only a puppy," I explain while setting the table. "His tongue was a let'al weapon and he licked and kissed my face..." Merde, why am I putting myself through the pain again? "Table's set. I'm gonna check on our guest." I flee the kitchen, but still catch Bobby's stunned expression.

The dog's asleep, but his strength is still deteriorating. He'll die in a few hours. Sitting on my heels in front of him I stroke his head. Bobby's coming up behind me and I should rise to my feet, but can't. I'm empathically connected to the dog and drawn close.

"You really care about that dog, don't you?" Bobby sits on his heels beside me and strokes the dog's flank. "Remy, why don't you tell me what's going on? I'm no telepath, but the professor taught us how to detect one. Are you a telepath? I'm asking because I feel something whenever you're close to the dog."

A bitter chuckle leaves my lips. "I ain' a telepat'."

"Then what is it? You can't deny something is going on." Bobby's hand settles on my shoulder, squeezing it encouragingly. "Why do you always hold back? You said that we never tried to get to know you, but you're not making things easier either, Remy. You always keep us... me at a distance."

"You're right," I admit and take a deep breath. "I 'ways kept you at a distance."

"Why?"

"It's hard for me to trust anyone."

Bobby's brow grows furrowed. "Why's that?"

Oh, how do I explain my past to him? I really don't want to. "In my yout' some t'ing's happened dat made it hard for me to trust people. It ain' you, Bobby. You're tryin' to be a friend, mais..."

"I won't tell anyone, Remy. Nothing you tell me will leave this room."

Bobby sounds sincere and serious, and I want to trust him, but I can't. People let me down too many times for me to trust again. I can't tell him about my past, but I will try to meet him halfway. "I'm an empat'. A weak one, mais I can feel his pain and take it 'way."

"An empath?" Shock is written all over Bobby's face as his eyes stay locked with mine. "You're an empath and never told us?" Bobby's shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh man, you must be hurting... you've been hurting all this time and never told us?"

What's he talking about? "Bobby?"

"Remy, I know about empaths! I've fought them and had them as allies. They feel everything especially deep and... We never tried to dampen our feelings when you were close. You're still hurting, aren't you? The trial... Man, that must have hurt badly. Why didn't you tell us?" Anger slips into his voice. "You must know Hank would never have told anyone without your consent. You could have confided in him!"

Bobby's reaction stuns me. I never expected him to react in that way. "Bobby, it's bien. I can deal wit' it!"

"You were fucking crying because you felt his pain!" Bobby points out while stroking the dog's head. "And you're telling me you can 'deal' with it? Damn it, Remy!"

My shields drop momentarily as his fierce emotions batter it down. I lower my gaze and shake my head. "Don' do dis, Bobby."

"You can feel my anger now, don't you? Do you also feel my worry? Remy, you..." Words fail him as he rises to his feet. "I don't know what to say."

"Jus' don' tell the ot'ers, Bobby," I say pleadingly. But his emotions puzzle me. Now that my shields are down I feel his anger and worry, but there's something else mixed in; an emotion which I can't identify.

"I promised to keep your secret," Bobby says, still fighting his own emotions. "But I don't understand why you insist to keep it a secret. What the hell are you afraid of?"

I blurt out the truth unintended. "Dat you'll t'ink I manipulated your feelings!"

"So that's it?" Bobby's eyes are filled with shocked disbelief. "You've been locking your empathy away for all these years?"

I nod my head once. I want this conversation to end; Bobby's dragging too many secrets from me. Why did he have to come here in the first place?

"Remy? Do me a favor? Don't lock it away when we're alone? Now that I know about your empathy I don't want you to deny it. And don't worry about manipulating my feelings." Embittered, he laughs. "And you still haven't figured it out!"

"Bobby?" That last remark really puzzles me. What am I supposed to have figured out?

"Forget about it, Remy and let's eat dinner." Bobby quickly disappears into the kitchen.

But his words still puzzle me. What am I supposed to have figured out? Does it have something to do with that emotion I picked up on but can't label? I get to my feet as well and follow him into the kitchen. We eat in silence. I'm still trying to make sense of his words and Bobby doesn't seem inclined to tell me more.

While doing the dishes in a more comfortable silence something sharp tugs at my mind and I recognize the sensation. "He's 'bout to die," I whisper, drop the dish towel and hurry back to the living room. The dog's breathing is shallow and his eyes open to lock with mine. He knows what's going to happen and I sit down beside him, pull him onto my lap and hold him.

"I made you a promise, mon ami, and I'll keep it. No pain, jus' go back to sleep." I can feel him letting go and I hold him tight as he releases his last breath. Warm fingers curl themselves around mine. I didn't even notice that Bobby sat down next to me! The dazed look in his eyes tells me he figured out what I've been doing. I should never have told him that I'm an empath!

"Remy, you made it easier for him. You helped him, cared for him, but he's dead now."

"I know dat!" The concern he's radiating isn't comforting and I feel restrained; I can't show my own emotions like I want to, need to. "Please go, Bobby." I need him out of here.

"Remy, are you sure that's the smart thing to do? You just felt his death. I'm no empath, but I bet that's a shattering experience."

"Felt it 'fore. It's no big deal. Jus' leave." I'm shutting him out of purpose. Jean-Luc and tante would berate me and encourage me to accept the support Bobby's offering, but I want to grieve alone.

"If that's what you really want." With obvious reluctance, Bobby rises from the couch. "Are you really sure? I can stay..."

"I'm sure. Jus' go 'way." I'm hugging the dog's dead body, still able to feel his body heat. Please Bobby, just leave me alone!

"Okay," Bobby says reluctantly. "But call me at the mansion if you need someone to talk to? Please, Remy?"

I nod my head once. "I know you wanna help, mais Bobby you can'. Trust me, I need to do dis on my own."

Bobby moves to the door, gives me a sad smile and then steps outside into the bitter cold. I'm rocking the dog, mourning his passing. I'll bury him later; I need to say goodbye first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loud banging on the front door wakes me the next morning. I crawled into bed after burying the old dog and now want to stay beneath the blankets forever. The sensation of death is still near and I know it will stay near for the next few days. I should have been more careful, should have kept my distance when the dog died, but I made a promise.

The banging continues and I drag myself from the bed. My toes shiver, hitting the cold floor. I turned the temperature down before I went to bed and haven't raised it yet. Wearing only a worn T-shirt I make my way to the front door. Merde, it's cold. Maybe I should have taken a moment to slip into a morning robe or wrap a blanket around me. It's too late now. I open the front door and gasp in shock as the cold hits me.

"Bobby?" Bobby's standing on the doorstep, wearing a warm parka and snow boots. His hair slipped from beneath the shawl he wrapped around his head and neck. Why is he wearing this many clothes? Why not ice up instead?

"Here!" Bobby extends his arms. He's carrying something, and it's wrapped in thick, fluffy towels. "Merry Christmas, Remy."

Suddenly I've got a moving bundle in my arms and I recognize the whimpers that escape it. Mischievous blue eyes stare at me from the confines of the fabric and I sense his life energy. A puppy? Bobby just pushed a puppy into my arms? Speaking of Bobby... where the hell did he go? He's walking away from the boathouse, growing smaller. Reacting instinctively, I bite down the cold and run after him. "Bobby, wait!" It takes me a minute to cover the distance and my feet already feel frozen now that they are covered in snow and ice. The cold seeps up my legs, into my chest and I can feel my lungs tremble with remembered agony. Please, mon Dieu, don't let me catch pneumonia again!

Bobby turns around and his eyes grow big. "Remy, what the hell are you doing? You're only wearing a T-shirt! Get your ass back inside!" He unzips his parka, shrugs out of it and drapes it over my shoulders. "Get moving, Cajun!"

Dazed, I allow him to lead me back inside and I obediently sit down on the couch. The puppy is squirming, seeking my attention. "Everyt'in' is bien, petit." Before I realize what I'm doing I'm reaching out again, empathically, to soothe the dog. What's wrong with me these days? I've kept my empathy locked away for years and now it's stronger than it ever was!

Bobby removes his boots, collects a blanket from my bedroom and drapes it over my shoulders. He looks... angry?

"What do you think you were doing? Following me like that? You're only wearing a shirt!"

Still dazed, I stare at his eyes. This is more than just anger born out of concern; I recognize the emotion behind it. Mon Dieu, does he love me? The puppy moves about in my arms and I put him on my lap, absentmindedly rubbing his back. My attention is completely focused on Bobby, whose expression changes suddenly.

"You finally figured it out, huh?" Bobby starts to get up, slipping back into his parka. "I better leave now."

"You love me?" Mouth agape, I can only stare at him. How can he love me and why did it take me so long to find out? I'm an empath! "Bobby, you love me? Oui?"

Bobby lowers his eyes and wrings his hands. "Yeah, I love you."

"For how long? When did it start? Why?" I'm raving and only the puppy's presence prevents me from jumping to my feet. "I don' understand!"

"I fell in love with you some months ago," Bobby starts, reluctantly. "After you got back from Antarctica."

"Is dat why you ended t'ings wit' Andy?" I can't believe we're having this conversation! He can't be in love with me, but he gave me this puppy and the feeling is there, vibrating strongly. Bobby's in love with me!

"Yeah. I wanted you, not him, but I never made a move, knowing you love Rogue." Bobby's eyes reveal his misery. "I never wanted you to find out. It's obvious you don't love me back, so let's forget we ever had this conversation."

"Why de puppy, cher?" Mon Dieu, why am I reacting to his feelings? I'm not in love with him... I think. But then again, I've been out of touch with my feelings for so long that everything is possible! I hesitantly place my hand on his wrist, making sure he can't leave. "Please stay."

"The puppy?" Bobby swallows the lump that formed in his throat. "You looked so lost last night when that dog died. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of life instead of dead."

"Did you 'ready name him?" The puppy's fallen asleep in my arms and I try hard not to wake him.

"I was thinking about Wiggles."

"Wiggles, cher?" Now that's a strange name for a dog!

"He walks funny; it's more like a wiggling motion. You'll see when you put him down."

"He's 'sleep now." Tenderness slips into my voice and gives me away. "Merci, cher. It's been years since someone gave me such a precious present."

"So you're gonna keep him? Cool." Bobby slowly moves away, shaking off my hand in the process. "I better head back for the mansion now."

"Bobby?" I quickly move in front of him. "We need to talk." His resigned glance tells me he doesn't expect the conversation to be a pleasant one. "I ain' sure I love you back. I ain' sure 'bout anyt'in' right now." I've been in turmoil since breaking up with Rogue and I can't seem to get a grip on my situation. "I need time to figure out my feelings for you."

"That's okay, Remy. I didn't think you loved me back, but I should be going now."

"Stay, Bobby." While cradling the puppy against my chest, I grab his wrist and pull him towards the stairs. "Keep us warm?"

Bobby's eyes widen. "Remy..."

"I'm not askin' you to have sex wit' me, cher. It's way too early to take dat step." I manage to pull him upstairs and into my bedroom. "Jus' hold me?"

Bobby relaxes. "I can do that... I think."

His insecurity is real and reassures me everything is okay between us. Shivering from the cold I lie down, pull the puppy close to my chest and wait for Bobby to spoon up behind me. At first he feels cold, but then his body heat warms me. "Pull up de blankets?" Bobby complies and I press back, moulding myself to his body. "Dis okay?"

"Yeah, this feels great."

Bobby wraps his arms around me and I sigh blissfully. I don't know where this relationship is headed and only time will tell, but he loves me. "Merci for Wiggles."

"I knew you'd like him." Bobby nuzzles my neck. "You look tired, Remy. Why don't you try to get back to sleep?"

"And you'll stay?"

"Yeah, I'll stay."

"Bien." Closing my eyes, I enjoy feeling him spooned behind me. I'm surprised at how safe I feel. Only Jean-Luc could make me feel like that and it should tell me something. I'm attracted to Bobby as well. "Can' stay 'wake, Bobby, sorry, cher..."

"Then go to sleep, Remy."

Bobby kisses a strand of my hair and I feel warm and cherished. Relaxing, I give in and fall asleep in his arms, hoping I can learn to trust again.

The end.

December 2001