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Our Little Family	By : SpencerRemyLvr Category: X-men Comics > Crossovers Views: 2000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor its characters. I do not own XMen/Marvel or its characters. I am not making money from this writing

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
When they got back to the mansion, Remy easily convinced Spencer to have a lie down at the boathouse for a bit. Or, at least, he’d thought he had. When they got there, Remy tossed Spencer’s new things into the wash while his lover went upstairs to their room. After everything was tag free and running in the washer, Remy went to go see if Spencer had settled down. What he found derailed any plans of a nap that either one of them had. Spencer was stretched out on the bed, wearing the shirt he’d stolen from Remy—just that shirt.
“Bon Dieu.” Remy murmured. His eyes traveled over those long, long legs, up to the hem of the shirt that stopped teasingly mid-thigh, up to the sultry face that was watching him with so much heat in those white eyes. It instantly kicked to life the heat in his blood. When Spencer smiled at him, a smile that Remy knew oh so well, all the blood in his body pooled down south. “I thought you might want to join me.” Spencer said huskily. “But you look a tad overdressed for the occasion.”
“Easy enough to fix dat.” Toeing off his shoes, Remy kicked them aside. His hands reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up and over at the same time that he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. By the time he reached the edge of the bed, there was a trail of clothes behind him. Completely naked and totally at ease in his own skin, he slid into the bed, moving easily over top of his lover. Lust was bright on Spencer’s face. Long fingered hands came up, tracing over Remy’s stomach, over his sides and up his back. “You’re so beautiful.” Spencer sighed out. His hands traced over the scars on Remy’s back before lightly scratching up his spine, making Remy hum happily. He bent his head, pressing a kiss to those soft, soft lips. “So are y’, mon cœur. So beau.”
Remy absolutely loved how responsive Spencer was in bed. It was beyond erotic to him to watch as his young lover came to life underneath him, twisting and turning and making those sounds that Remy loved so much. But he wasn’t the only one that liked to touch and taste and tease. Spencer drew Remy down into their kiss, putting all his passion into it and, at the same time, perfectly distracting the Cajun. It gave Spencer the opening he needed to latch on and then flip their bodies over so that Spencer was on top and Remy was under him.
When they broke apart, Spencer’s grin was just a little devilish. Gone was the shy man that people got to see in public; the one who still blushed at some naughty jokes. In here, when it was just the two of them, Spencer lost any inhibitions. Remy loved it.
Spencer straddled Remy’s waist, balancing on his arms as he looked down at him. “Mm.” He hummed. There was a small spark of light in his eyes, like a flash of lightning. Then Spencer was bending his head, nuzzling against Remy’s neck. When Remy reached to touch, Spencer moved one hand and captured his, moving them above his head and pressing them into the pillow. He lifted his head to look down at him firmly. “No touching. It’s my turn right now.”
Oh, God. Remy swallowed and nodded. After Spencer let go of him, he kept his hands above his head, getting a good handful of the pillow. When his lover got in moods like this, he could drive Remy absolutely crazy. And that was apparently what the younger man was setting out to do. He started at Remy’s neck, nipping and sucking and tasting his way over the skin there, pulling little moans from Remy. Then he moved down, apparently intent on tasting every inch of skin as he went. When he sucked on Remy’s collarbone, the Cajun squeezed the pillow and dropped his head back on a groan. That groan turned to a full-fledged moan when Spencer took a sensitive nipple into his mouth and bit and sucked it to a tortured peak.
Remy tried to lift his head enough to watch his lover, but he couldn’t. The pleasure was racing through his veins. All he could do was lie there and fight not to reach out and touch as Spencer’s mouth went lower and lower, tracing the few scars on his abdomen, stopping at his belly button to tease him. “Bon Dieu, Spencer. S’il tu plait.”
“Please what, baby?” The hands that slid over Remy’s hips felt like they were burning. “What is it you want? This?” Bending, Spencer bit at Remy’s hip bone before soothing it with his tongue. The Cajun’s hips jumped and a throaty moan came out. When Spencer repeated the same on the other side, he gripped the pillows tighter, aching to reach out and touch him. He heard Spencer chuckle. “Or was this what you wanted, baby?”
Without any more warning than that, Spencer slid down and closed his mouth over Remy’s swollen head, sucking him in and making Remy sob out a moan. He barely noticed the babble of words that spilled past his lips as Spencer sucked more and more of him in. All he could focus on was how deliciously wonderful that sinful mouth felt as it drove him crazy. Spencer knew exactly what he liked and how he liked it and used that against him until Remy was writhing on the bed, moaning and panting. When Spencer moved, letting Remy slip from his mouth, the older man shuddered at the loss of sensation and forced his eyes to focus.
What he saw had him moaning once more. Spencer sat up, perfectly straddling Remy. He must have been preparing himself while he’d been sucking Remy because he didn’t hesitate now to reach behind him and wrap a hand around Remy’s cock, holding the rigid flesh in place as he positioned himself and started to slide down, his body slicked and ready. It was absolute heaven. Remy couldn’t resist anymore; he brought his hands down, settling them on Spencer’s thighs, stroking the trembling limbs to help soothe them both as Spencer’s body adjusted to him. Remy fought to keep still and not explode here and now in that tight heat.
After a moment, Spencer started to move, slow rocking motions that drove them both wild. Remy slid his hands up Spencer’s thighs, reaching the edge of the shirt he still wore and taking hold of the hem. He pulled while Spencer bent down, taking a kiss. Their kiss broke apart and Remy pulled the shirt off, tossing it to the side. That allowed him to feel the skin he loved so much. To admire the play of muscles in Spencer’s thighs as he rose and fell over and over. It allowed him to look at that beautiful swell to his lover’s stomach that he loved.
The heat in Remy was building. He knew he was close. The room was filled with the sound of flesh on flesh, pants and moans, words murmured in French. Remy felt Spencer’s pace pick up and moved his hand off the man’s hip to wrap around his aching flesh, jerking him in time with their lovemaking. He watched Spencer throw his head back as he moaned. He was absolutely beautiful. Arched up over him, riding him with that unrestrained passion. It was too much. On a loud moan, Remy thrust his hips up to meet him, his body going taunt with the strength of the orgasm that ripped through him. He felt Spencer’s body clench and freeze and he too was cumming, screaming his pleasure out.
Remy barely managed to make his arms work enough to catch Spencer and roll them sideways so that his love wouldn’t simply collapse on him. For a long moment they just lay there, smiling at one another, catching their breath. Finally Remy leaned forward and kissed Spencer’s lips. “Y’r gonna be de death of me one day, mon allée chat.”
“Hell of a way to die.” Spencer said smugly. He had that half-lidded, sleepy, just-got-laid look to him. It made Remy smile. “Oui, dat it is.”
Eventually he made himself climb out of bed and move toward the bathroom to clean the mess off of his chest. It didn’t surprise him in the least bit when he came out and found Spencer curled up in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. Remy took a moment to move downstairs and switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. Then he decided to go back upstairs and lie down with Spencer. There was nothing that Remy had to do for another few hours yet, so he figured he was safe to indulge in a little nap.
Yet, when he climbed into bed, he didn’t immediately lie down. Instead, he found himself staring at Spencer’s back, eyes tracing over the skin there. No matter how many times he saw it, he couldn’t help the sadness and anger that came inside of him. He’d learned long ago how to lock that reaction away so that Spencer wouldn’t feel it. That was the last thing the other man needed. He was self-conscious enough about the marks on his back; having Remy grow angry and sad each time he saw it would only encourage him to hide himself. It had taken months after they’d started to sleeping together before Spencer had become comfortable enough to take his shirt completely off during lovemaking.
Remy had understood why. When it was obvious that their relationship was getting serious, when they knew it was going to move in a sexual direction, Spencer had sat Remy down and been honest with him. He’d told him all about the scars on his back. He’d told Remy the tale of when he’d first come into his mutation and his empathy had almost overpowered him, making him lash out with the electricity before he’d even realized what he was doing. At the time he’d been being shoved inside a locker once more by bullies at school. The explosion of his power had fried all the electronics in the school and he’d screamed bloody murder from the pain it had brought to his head. The two boys touching him were sent flying like they’d been hit with a Taser.
Then, looking anywhere but at Remy, Spencer had told of how the bullies had found him a week later. He told Remy that they’d stripped him naked and tied him to a goalpost on the football field, his backside exposed to them all. His voice had gone flat when he’d spoken of how they’d decided that a freak like him needed something on the outside to mark him so that people would know what a freak he was. And so, a group of drunken teenage boys had thrown lighter fluid on him before striking a match.
Spencer had said that the only thing that had saved his life was the night janitor. The man had seen them out there and had already called the police. When he saw them throw the lighter fluid on, he’d taken off running toward them. He wasn’t in time to stop them from setting fire to the small child, but he was able to get water on him to put it out before it killed him. From that day forth, Spencer carried the scars, marking him on the outside the way that they’d promised.
Bending, Remy kissed the scarred flesh, wishing he could go back in time and hurt the people who had thought to burn a child, a twelve year old child, simply because he was different. He hated how badly the memory still hurt Spencer. The tears his lover had silently cried when he’d told the story had ripped at Remy’s insides. That had been a hard night for them. With the utter faith Spencer had shown in him by telling him that story, Remy had finally opened himself up and talked in a way he never had with anyone else. Instead of giving bare bones of childhood moments, he told Spencer some of his horrors as well.
A sigh slid past his lips as Remy laid down and snuggled in against his partner. He pulled the blankets over them and wrapped his arm around Spencer’s waist, letting his hand rest on his stomach. In that moment of quiet, he made a promise to himself, to Spencer, and to their children .They would never have to live with the kind of pain their parents had. They wouldn’t know constant fear or starvation. They would never know about adult hands on a child’s body in ways they never should be. They would never feel more like an experiment than a human. He and Spencer would make sure they always knew safety and security and, above all, love. They would know they were loved.
“Je t’aime, Spencer.” He kissed the back of Spencer’s shoulder, over the light scars there. Then he nuzzled in against his neck and drifted off to sleep.
CXCX
The sound of his cell phone ringing pulled Spencer up and out of sleep. Instinctively he reached out to the nightstand and grabbed it, hoping that he pressed the right button before he brought it up to his ear. “Dr. Reid.” He answered, stifling a yawn.
Warm laughter echoed in his ear. “That would sound more professional if you didn’t sound like a sleepy little kid.”
“Morgan.” Spencer said the name warmly. Shifting, he stretched his body out, letting his yawn stretch out before he spoke again. “Sorry, I was sleeping. We went shopping this morning and apparently it made me more tired than I realized.” Not to mention the physical activity he’d indulged in once they were home. That made Spencer grin. It also brought to his attention the fact that the bed he was in was empty. He sat up and looked down at the bed. There was a note sitting on the extra pillow.
“You, shopping?” Morgan teased.
As he reached for the note, Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yes, me. I finally gave up the good fight and let Remy drag me to a mall to get clothes that fit me. My stomach seems to have grown an extra few inches in just this past week.” He brought the note close, squinting down at it. On the paper was Remy’s familiar, elegant scrawl. ‘Spencer – I had to go to a session in the Danger Room and you looked too sweet to wake up. I’ll be up at the main house for a little while if you’d like to come up. Don’t let yourself be afraid of what people are going to say or do. Be proud of who you are and remember, you’re beautiful to me. Je t’aime, my little alley cat.’ Reading it, Spencer couldn’t help but smile. Remy apparently wasn’t going to let Spencer hide out anymore now that he’d admitted that was what he was doing. Well…good. He needed to get out of this boathouse. Time to return to the real world.
Putting down the note, Spencer turned his full attention to the phone. “But, anyways, shopping is beside the point. Were you calling for a purpose or to simply chat, Morgan? I’m sorry I’m running a little slow. My brain isn’t quite on full alert yet.”
“It’s ok, kid. Actually, I do have a purpose for calling. We’re on a case right now and we could really use your help. This guy left us a code.”
That grabbed Spencer’s attention quickly. His body straightened and his brain seemed to kick on. “A code?”
“Yeah. I’m in the car right now, so I don’t have it in front of me. I was calling to see if, in about ten or fifteen minutes, if you might be able to talk with us and see what we can get from you. You got a fax we can send some photos to for you? We’re not sure if the photos of the scene will have any impact on the code itself or its meaning.”
Already rising from the bed, Spencer tried to think of where he could go. To work on a code he’d need a place to write it out and to hang up any pictures. A regular classroom was out of the question; he didn’t need younger folks walking in while he was working. But maybe he could take one of their white boards and use it in one of the offices? “I can find a place. Let me get up to the house and see. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got something set up.”
“Thanks, Reid.”
Spencer hung up the phone and tossed it down on the bed. He made his way to the dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers and some socks, tossing those to the bed as well. In the closet he found that Remy had apparently washed and hung all of his new clothes. Spencer barely spared a moment to smile at that before he grabbed a pair of black slacks, a gray t-shirt and a black and dark gray striped long sleeved over shirt. In no time at all he was fully clothed and was sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on one red plaid sock and one green and white striped sock. After he was done, he grabbed his cell phone and stuffed it in his pocket before leaving the room.
When he got downstairs he saw that it was raining outside. His usual converse shoes wouldn’t do for walking up in the rain like this. Instead, he grabbed a pair of Remy’s boots, one of his pair of biker boots, not hesitating to sit down on the bench by the door and pull them on. Once they were zipped up, he stood up and grabbed his purple scarf, winding it around his neck, and then one of the many jackets in the closet. He didn’t even realize as he was doing all this that he was dressing like the old Reid instead of the lazily dressed person he’d been lately. His attention wasn’t even on the clothes he put on or the rain that fell on him as he made his way out of the boathouse and up the yard to the house. The only notice he gave to the rain was to bless the clouds for shading the sun; he’d forgot his sunglasses in the boathouse and he didn’t want to go back.
By the time he reached the main house, his hair was soaked. He stood in the front hall and took a second to shake the water off his hair and to use his scarf to wipe off his face.
As he did that, he heard a voice call out “Look at you, you’re soaked!” Turning, Spencer saw Jean moving toward him, a motherly smile on her face. “Spencer Reid, haven’t you heard of an umbrella?”
“Huh?” Looking at himself, dripping on the floor, he shrugged. “Oh, that. It’s fine. Listen, Jean, I was wondering if you could help me out.” Maybe she would know the perfect area for him to go to. His wet appearance was forgotten as his mind focused on the task at hand. “Is there perchance a room I could use that would have a phone, a fax machine, a board on which to write, and privacy from the younger members of the household?”
The randomness of his request seemed to surprise her. Her eyebrows shot up and she stopped in front of him to stare for a second. Spencer waited rather impatiently. Finally she blinked away the shock and her look grew thoughtful. “The best I can think of is Scott’s office. He’s still down in the Danger Room, so I’m sure he won’t mind if you use it for a bit. Right this way.”
“Thank you.”
Spencer knew where Scott’s office was, but he followed Jean down there anyways, letting her head. When they entered the room, she moved to one side and pulled out a board while Spencer went straight to where the fax machine was. He turned that on and then turned to the phone on the desk, dialing a number and hitting the speaker button. His mind was already focused on this and had almost completely forgotten that Jean was even in the room. After a few rings, Morgan’s voice echoed around the office. “That was quick, pretty boy.”
“You’ve offered me a puzzle, Morgan, and I’ve been puzzle free for weeks now.” Spencer said with a laugh. “Now quit picking on me and send me what you need to send. The fax number is…” He leaned over to look, but Jean called the numbers out to him as she brought over a large dry erase board from the closet. “It’s 391-555-2324.”
“Ok. It’s on its way.”
The fax machine buzzed to life and Spencer nodded. “Good. I’ll call you back shortly.”
He took the first picture as it printed, his eyes scanning it automatically as he made his way toward the board. Part of his mind realized that Jean was still standing in the room, right by the desk. Absently he asked her “Would you mind handing me the tape please, Jean?”
“Of course.”
Picture after picture came through, each one taped up on the board. When he had them there, he stepped back and took a look at them as a whole. They perfectly depicted the crime scene. In the picture in the center was a wall where the Unsub had, in a complete cliché, written his message in what appeared to be blood. The room itself looked like something from a horror story. Blood was everywhere, all over the walls and the floor and the furniture. On the floor was a body so badly mutilated that Spencer couldn’t even determine gender. Vaguely he heard Jean gasp and he saw her move away out of the corner of his eye, turning to walk toward the door.
Spencer chewed on his lip as he read through the code that was written there. One thing immediately became clear. Reaching to the desk, Spencer hit redial and then the speakerphone button. As soon as someone answered, he said “I need a key.”
“What?”
“There should be something there, somewhere, that acts as a key to the code. But nothing in the photos shows anything that would be the key.” Spencer chewed on his lip and looked at the board.
They must have put him on speaker as well because Aaron’s voice came next. “The victims are all women in their early to mid-twenties. Each one fits a basic physical description….”
CXCX
Fifteen minutes later, Scott, Remy and Warren made their way into Scott’s office. Scott and Warren had been coming to discuss something and Remy had followed because he’d sensed his lover over their link and knew he was in the room. When they entered, Remy grinned at the two men. “See. Remy told you Spencer was in here, mes amis.”
The three stood for a second and watched the scene in front of them. Spencer was moving back and forth in front of a large whiteboard, muttering to himself, looking like a drowned rat. On the board was a group of letters that made absolutely no sense. Jean was standing to one side, hands on her hips, glaring at him. In one hand she held a towel. “Spencer, I swear, would you listen to me?” she demanded.
Scott hooked his hands in his pockets and raised an eyebrow at the two. “My office seems to have become overrun.” He said dryly.
At the sound of his voice, Jean’s head snapped up. She sighed and made her way over to them. “Sorry, Scott. I thought you’d be a while yet.” When she got close, she gave him apologetic smile. “Spencer came up to the house and asked if he could use a room with a fax, a board to write on, a phone, and privacy from younger household members. This was the best place I could think of. And trust me, the privacy was a good plan.” She gave a soft little shudder before straightening back up. Exasperation tinged her face next when she looked over to Spencer, who was still muttering an pacing. “I’ve been trying to get him to take off some of those wet things and dry himself off for about ten minutes now, but I swear he’s gone deaf.”
Remy grinned at her and reached out to take the towel. “Allow me, Cher. Remy learned how to work around Spencer a long time ago.”
“By all means, have at it.”
He didn’t say a word as he made his way over to his partner. Instead of trying to talk to him, Remy simply walked right up and stood in front of him, taking a hold of the front of his coat. The others watched as Spencer froze, looking at Remy in a distracted sort of way. “Yes?”
“Nothing, Cher.” Remy reassured him. Reaching out, he started to unzip the front of Spencer’s coat. “Just getting y’r coat, dat’s all. Gonna get y’ a little dry, oui?”
Spencer looked down as if just realizing that he was still dripping. “Oh, yes. Dry.” He started to help, pulling his coat off on his own and letting Remy take it. He even unwound his scarf from around his neck and handed it to his lover. Remy came back and took Spencer’s arm, leading him to one of Scott’s chairs and sitting him down. Then he took the towel and set about drying Spencer’s hair. “Talk it out f’ Remy, Cher. What’s going on here?”
“Mm. The team called for a consult. There’s a code at the latest crime scene that no one is able to decipher and they were hoping I’d be able to. The first line was easy, just a simple transposition of letters. But all that told me was ‘The Key is in the scenes.’.” Spencer scowled over at the board. “There were no other words written at any of the crime scenes, which means the key is something that’s at the scenes that’s significant. What, I don’t know. But I can’t crack the code until I know what the key is.”
Suddenly Spencer’s eyes lifted and he saw the three others still standing by the door. A small blush heated his cheeks. “Oh! Scott, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I’d be taking up this much time in your office. I can clear things out for you.”
Scott smiled at him and shook his head. “No, no, it’s no problem. I was just fetching something for Warren and then I need to work on the computer. If the clacking of my keys doesn’t bother you then please, feel free to stay.”
“So long as my muttering and talking doesn’t disturb you.” Spencer said back.
The grin he got in return made him smile as well. “You could have a screaming match in here and it wouldn’t disturb me, Spencer. I’m used to chaos and noise.”
That was all Spencer needed to be reassured. His attention went off those in the room and back to the puzzle. Remy was done drying his hair and it left Spencer free to rise and make his way back to the board. Taking hold of the top, he rotated it, flipping it to the other side so that he could see the taped up pictures. Jean made a sound behind him and turned away again. Even Warren made a surprised sound. Scott paid absolutely no attention, busy getting into his filing cabinet. It was Remy who stepped up beside Spencer to look right along with him. “Dese are de crime scenes, den?”
“Yes. They’re sectioned off this way, see?” He gestured to the columns he’d put them in. “Victim one, two, three, four, and then the newest one over here. What I need to do is find the pattern in the photos. Things that are the same. His signature is this, right here. See?” Spencer pointed to the black scarf around the neck of each body. “It’s silk, apparently. It’s also not used as a weapon. None of them were strangled with the scarves. They were simply tied on afterwards. There was absolutely no point to it for the actual murder. No, this is significant to the Unsub.”
Remy looked at the photos and made himself look beyond the blood. His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned in. “What’s de actual cause of death?”
“They can’t accurately tell.” Spencer said with a sigh. “The torture is too severe. But, there are consistencies. .." Trailing off, Spencer stared at the board, not really seeing the images. His eyes had gone slightly distant. Smirking, Remy stepped back, settling against the edge of Scott’s desk. He looked over to see that Warren was gone and Jean was sitting in one of the chairs while Scott sat behind his desk. Both of them were looking at Remy. He grinned and looked back over at Spencer just in time to see the light click for the young doctor.
Comprehension lit Spencer’s face and he was moving, flipping the board once more so that it was back to the letters. He yanked a pen from his pocket and started to write. Remy let himself get comfortable and enjoy the show. Watching Spencer work, in a sense, was how Remy had first met the man and been attracted to him. There was just something immensely attractive about the genius when he lost himself in a puzzle.
He saw Spencer finish writing and start patting at his pockets. Knowing what he was reaching for, Remy pulled out his own cell and dialed Morgan’s number. Then he walked over and held the phone up to Spencer’s ear. He couldn’t resist laughing when Spencer jerked at the sound of Morgan’s voice and then reached up, taking the phone and talking animatedly about the code he’d cracked for them. Remy didn’t pay attention to the words. He hooked his hands into his back pockets and let himself enjoy watching Spencer once more.
“He’s quite enthusiastic about his work.” Jean said from her seat.
Remy backed up enough to sit on the edge of the desk again, but he left his eyes on his lover. “Dat he is.”
“Is he having a hard time adjusting to not working? Is that why he’s been spending so much time at the boathouse?”
“Sure he misses it. Who wouldn’t miss a job dey loved after having to leave it?” Finally turning, Remy looked over at Jean and Scott. “But mostly, Spencer misses de puzzles. He misses helping, oui, but his mind works best when it has a puzzle. Part of his intelligence. He needs t’ings to keep his brain going a little. Been trying to convince him to write a book, you know? T’ink dere’s lots of t’ings he could write about dat de world could benefit from knowing.”
“I’m not entirely sure I could write a book, Rems.” Spencer interjected. He walked over to the desk and handed Remy his phone, kissing him briefly. “Thanks, by the way.”
“Y’r welcome, Cher. And sure y’ could, if y’ put y’r mind to it. Don’t tell me y’ never thought about doing it.”
“Well, sure. Who hasn’t? There are a couple I’d love to write.” With a shake of his head, Spencer took another kiss. “We’ll discuss it later, Remy. I’ve disturbed Scott’s office enough for today.”
The sound of Scott clearing his throat drew all eyes toward him. He set a file down on the desk and folded his hands, resting them over top of it. “Actually, Spencer, I’m kind of glad you’re in here. I’ve got a bit of a problem and I’m told that you’re the person to talk to about this.”
One of Spencer’s eyebrows arched up. He shifted a little, slipping between Remy’s legs to lean into him. In return, Remy leaned into him, resting his head against his love and snuggling close. He closed his eyes as he heard Spencer ask “What was it you needed, Scott?”
“We’re having a bit of a problem with one of our halfway homes. With the funds they’re given, they should be able to comfortably operate, at least according to the last run through we made. Yet somehow they keep running short on things here and there. Some of the numbers in their books don’t seem to be adding up right.” Scott’s voice trailed off and Remy felt Spencer’s chuckle start low in his stomach. “So you essentially need an accountant to go over the books.” Spencer teased.
“Would you mind? You’ve got the best head for numbers of anyone I know and I was hoping that maybe you’d find what we aren’t seeing. It’s not like we can take in the books of a place that isn’t supposed to exist and go to a regular accountant.”
One of Spencer’s hands came up, idly stroking at Remy’s auburn locks. “It’s no problem. I wouldn’t mind at all, actually.”
“Oh, thank God.” Scott said. There was audible relief in his voice. “I mean, it’s not like we can’t pay what needs paid and such like that, but some things just don’t make sense and I don’t like thinking that we’re being cheated. I’ll get everything together and we’ll set you up in the spare office that’s across the hall from here. Would you mind starting on it tomorrow morning?”
“That’s fine. If everything’s in there waiting, I’ll just go right in come morning and get started on it. But for now, let me get this board cleaned up so you don’t have to stare at these pictures and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
That meant that he had to move. Remy sighed and loosened his grip on Spencer. “I’ll help y’ clean up, Cher.” He offered. It wasn’t hard for him to see the slightly tender way Spencer was walking. He’d been on his feet quite a bit today and Remy could see that it was wearing on him just a little. But Spencer was way, way too independent to just let someone completely take care of him. So Remy did what he could. He got off the desk and helped to get the pictures picked up and the board put away, trying to subtly do more than Spencer so that it could be done faster.
When they were done, he hooked an arm around his partner’s waist. “Why don’t we go get something to eat? Den maybe we’ll settle down in de TV room f’ a while and Remy’ll rub y’r feet f’ y’, mon cœur.” He offered. The smile Spencer gave him was both amused and sweet. The young genius leaned in and gave him a kiss. “You know, I think I’ll take you up on that.”
Together, the two made their way out of Scott’s office, arms wrapped around one another. Scott watched them go, smiling. “You know, Spencer being here seems to have done Remy a world of good.” He told Jean. “I’ve never seen him this happy.”
“Spencer seems to be coming around too.” Jean agreed with him. “They make each other happy. Remy deserves this happiness.”
“Yeah, yeah he does.”
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Our Little Family