Work Text:
"You know he's a fool," Remy commented as he dropped to the ground near Betsy.
Remy had watched from a distance as Betsy had argued with Warren again this morning, though he wasn’t close enough to hear what they’d said. From the body language, and the way Betsy had retreated to the gardens to shred leaves and try not to cry, he could make a few guesses. The fact that he could tell that whatever Warren had said gave the emotional effect of punching Betsy in the guts didn’t make him very happy. Above and beyond the fact that Betsy was a beautiful woman, she was a telepath, their team-mate, and the woman that Warren had been dating, had claimed to love. You just… It wasn’t right to cause the ones you love pain. Remy didn’t see any sign that Warren felt even a little upset at hurting Betsy… no, the feathered whiner was too busy feeling sorry for himself. Remy just wasn’t quite certain what Warren Worthington the third - multi-millionaire, owner of a successful corporation, and generally accounted as a very handsome man – had to feel sorry for himself about.
Betsy sighed, shoulders hunching inwards as her fingers shredding a leaf. "He does this every so often. Gets into a funk about being a mutant, about people hating him, hating us. About how being with someone so publicly a mutant will be bad for my reputation, for my future."
"He miss de part where you a mutant too? Or de fact dat most people t'ink your hair naturally purple?" Remy's eyebrow rose as he leaned towards the beautiful woman.
"When did you figure that it wasn't natural?" She looked at him, the tone of her voice suggesting that she wanted a distraction from her pain, even if it was a petty distraction.
Remy shrugged, "First t'ing in de morning, if you not made yourself all spiffy yet, your lashes not be purple. If dat weren't enough, I found de bottle of hair dye in de trash."
"Sneaky thief," the words were without venom, or even anger.
"Oui," Remy agreed.
"But because I can pass for human, he thinks I should. That I should worry about what people will think, about my reputation," Betsy shook her head. "As if..."
"As if you hadn't been a model, a spy, an' an assassin already. Not de jobs of someone too worried about their reputation." Remy leaned forward, "Remy t'ink it be clear you gonna do what you want anyhow."
"If it's that clear to you, why doesn't he see it?" Betsy whispered, a tear gathering at the corner of her eye.
"As I said, Warren be a fool," Remy shrugged. "An' he t'ink he can keep tossing you aside, an’ pick you back up again when he done acting like a brooding, sad fool. Remy t’ink dat make Warren an arrogant fool."
"Just toss me aside until he wants to feel better..." Betsy picked up another leaf, her fingers starting to shred this one as well. There was the distinct impression that she wouldn’t have minded shredding something more than just leaves. Her brows dipped, and a trace of anger entered her voice as she admitted, "I've always waited for him."
"Why? He keeps making you sad. Why let him keep doing dis to you?" Remy reached out, his fingers closing around hers.
"Because..." Betsy stopped, unable to finish the sentence. "Because..."
"Habit not be a good enough reason to keep suffering," Remy suggested. He wouldn’t dare give betsy orders or demands about her personal life, though if he could make a persuasive enough case… she wasn’t so stubborn that she wouldn’t change her mind. "He t'inks he don' want you, don' want you to be 'round him. Maybe you should be wit' someone else?"
"I don't think he wants anyone else to have me either," Betsy frowned.
"If he toss you aside, why not see someone else? If he wants you back, maybe he say somet'ing. If he don' say anyt'ing, maybe you be happy wit' someone else?" Remy flashed a charming smile. "Don' you want to be happy, Betsy?"
For several long moments, Betsy looked at him. Slowly, she began to smile, the leaf shreds falling away from her fingers. "Happy. What did you have in mind?"
"Let Remy take you out for dinner, maybe a bit o' dancing. Bet we have fun," Remy offered.
Betsy considered the idea, and then she gave a small chuckle. "Alright. We'll leave at seven, I know a nice little club. Just because he wants to mope and be miserable doesn't mean I want to mope and be miserable. I think I’d like to see if you can dance as well as you dodge. Many things have been said about you, Remy, but nobody’s ever accused you of being boring."
Remy sprang to his feet, offering Betsy a hand up. "Maybe dis turn out to be no more den friends out for a bit o' fun. Maybe dis be de start of somet'ing much more."
"We'll see, Remy. For now, let’s take this one step at a time," Betsy smiled at him, and started back towards the mansion. "And you'd best look presentable for our date. I have standards."
Remy grinned, "Of course Remy look presentable. Remy gonna be on a date wit’ a belle femme."
"Remy got high hopes for dis," he grinned as she made her way into the building. "Remy not de same kind o' fool as Warren."
end Remy's Question.