Some forgotten town between the North and the South.
Remy sullenly picked at his cold fries, smearing them around in ketchup. The burger he ate hadn't been bad, but in general he avoided greasy bar food. He'd been nursing his beer for over an hour and could tell the bartender was annoyed with his lack of purchases.
He'd traveled quite fast, speeding along highways for the past few hours, subconsciously trying to escape his thoughts before turning up here. Too bad he couldn't outrun his mind.
He'd pulled over at the classic roadside bar and grill to rest up, renting one of the dumpy little motel rooms adjoining the bar. The sky had darkened with charcoal grey clouds and Remy had no desire to drive in the rain. He figured he'd head out to Baton Rouge or Lake Charles in the morning and take up the gambling scene once more. It would keep his mind and hands busy. That way he wouldn't have to think about her.
What used to be his happiest thoughts were now his saddest. He gulped down the rest of his warm beer in one swig, trying to erase the dryness in his throat and ease the emptiness that had been pooling in the pit of his stomach since he left Westchester.
No doubt Rogue was awake now, and Bobby had had the unpleasant task of telling her that he had left. Remy felt kind of dirty leaving that one for Bobby, but he trusted that Bobby could set things right with her. He really was a good guy, and Remy was still marveling over how composed and well mannered Bobby had been when Remy had confessed his feelings for Rogue. Remy had never encountered a boyfriend like that ever. Hell, it hadn't even deterred Bobby's opinion of him and he had wanted Remy to stay on anyway.
He wondered if Marie would cry. He shook his head to shake away that thought. He didn't want to try and picture her sobbing, heartbroken over him. He forced his thoughts to believe that Bobby could pick up the broken pieces and in time, Remy would only be a faint, fond memory to her.
She would never be a faint or distant memory to him. He had never fallen so hard for girl since Bella Donna. And since he was being honest, his love for Rogue had well succeeded his previous love for Belle.
Rogue was unforgettable. Some days he imagined he would want to forget her in order to grant him a moment's peace of mind, but he knew he would carry this regret with him the rest of his life. She was the one that got away—strike that—the one he had foolishly let go of.
The bartender whisked his empty bottle away and slid him a new beer. Remy waved it away with his hand. He hadn't ordered another one and frankly, was a little offended that the bartender hadn't bothered to ask if he even wanted another before opening this one.
"Compliments of the little lady down at the end there." The burly man behind the counter pointed off past Remy to the where the woman sat.
Remy groaned, not bothering to turn around and at least look at his generous benefactor. The last thing he was in the mood for was some broad at a small town bar trying to pick him up.
"Tell her, thanks, but no thanks," Remy answered politely but gruffly, pushing the beer back to the bartender.
The bartender let out a low whistle and gave him an 'okay crazy' expression, which meant the girl Remy had just rejected was a looker.
"Your call, but man, they sure don't make 'em like that anymore," the bartender said, leaving the beer. "If a girl like that ordered me a drink with that buttery, southern accent, I'd be a fool not to accept it."
Buttery, southern accent? Remy was still at least nine or ten hours away from anywhere near the south. There couldn't be that many girls around with her accent. Remy turned his head slowly to the direction the bartender had pointed.
She was already up from her seat, smiling and walking towards him as Remy sat in complete and utter shock. He was sure he was gaping at her like an idiot.
"Marie," he finally choked out in confusion when she reached him. "What on earth are you doing here? How the hell did you even find me?"
Her grin widened as she reached over and peeled something off the back of his coat. She dropped the tiny tracking device in the palm of his hand.
"Bobby's a huge advocator of these things."
"Bobby!" Remy was floored.
"Sure. You know, your friend, Bobby," she answered coyly as she slipped onto the empty stool beside him.
Remy was beginning feel as though someone had pulled an elaborate prank on him. He chuckled slightly, hardly believing that when Bobby had patted him on the back before he left that he was actually planting a tracking device on him. The little sneak. It appeared that Bobby wasn't as naïve as everyone seemed to think he was.
"And why would Bobby have put that on my coat?" Remy asked, playing along.
"So I'd be able to find you and bring you back home," Rogue whispered with a shy grin. "I love you, Remy. And I know you love me because Bobby told me so."
"That traitor." Remy grinned back. "I said that in confidence."
"He couldn't help it," Marie answered innocently. "He has a hard time keeping secrets from his best friend, always has."
"So…" Remy paused, slipping his arms around her waist and loving the guiltless feel. "You being here means…"
"Means that Bobby and I had a talk. A talk you probably wouldn't even believe if I told you, but to make a long story short, Bobby and I decided we're better off as just friends instead of lovers."
"So what does that make us then?" Remy pressed with a mischievous smile.
"Lovers," she answered, gently unwinding his arm from her waist and grasping his hand in hers. She stood up from the stool and Remy followed, tossing some bills on the bar to cover his food.
"Come on." She grinned, tipping her face up to his for a kiss. "It's going to rain and I'm feeling nostalgic."