The X-Project

Following this email exchange, Madelyn storms into Remy's office to let him know exactly what she thinks of him.



"Of all the arrogant, annoying, smarmy little..." Madelyn fumed as she stomped her way to what was now Remy's office, trying not to jostle the healing shoulder too much in its sling and the need making her all the more angry. Arriving at her destination, she flung open the door without knocking, and stood in the doorway, glaring at him. "You!" she growled, angry beyond actual words at this stage, but only for a moment. "What the _hell_ gives you the right to talk to me like that?"

Remy looked up from the stack of files he was flipping through. "Knock knock. Come in. Glad you could make it." He said in a sarcastic voice. "Ever heard of a thing called privacy, doc? Remy could have been doing something far more interesting than you in here."

"Oh, give me a break." Madelyn came in and slammed the door behind her - no need for the students to see her chewing out another staff member, or whatever the hell it was the Remy was. "Do you really think that whole sex machine act fools anyone? Now, explain to me why it is you should be exempt from a procedure everyone from Charles down has had. Because I really want to know what makes you so very special."

"It very simple. I don't need one. I don't want one. Let's see if dat keen police mind can put dat together. Follow wit' me, detective." Remy said as if talking to a small child. "If Remy doesn't need one and doesn't want one, think dat you can figure out whether or not Remy going to have one?"

"It's not about whether Remy needs one and it's certainly not about whether Remy wants one. It's standard procedure. Hell, the last time you came anywhere near the medlab was after that brain explosion of yours, and you've been hurt at least twice that I know of since! So I think you've gotten off pretty damn easy!"

"Dat's right! De great and powerful doctor granted Remy a favour. I guess dat I must sacrifice a sheep in your honour, oh wise one." Remy snorted. "And I point out, again to dat keen police mind, dat if I've been hurt twice and still breathe and can use de bathroom, all without going to de medlab, den dat supports de idea dat I don't need you, neh?"

"Only because you had schoolgirl stitch you up instead!" Madelyn retorted, approaching the desk so she could yell at him more effectively. "Amanda's been trained, yes, but you also got put through a wall! You could have had a head injury, only no-one would have known until you actually did stop breathing!" Smug, superior annoying little bastard.

"You know, Bartlet, I think your problem wit' me is dat I don't come running down to de medlab every time I stub my toe like half de people here. Dat means you don't get dat warm fuzzy moist feeling from Remy 'bout how important dat you are, and how dis place just fall 'part without Madelyn to come and save dem." Remy stood up, putting both hands on the desk to lean over at her, a nasty smirk on his face. "Guess dat you going to have to go on not mattering, femme!"

"Of all the... You arrogant, self-centred, annoying bastard!." Madelyn wasn't intimidated by his leaning forward, planting her good hand on the desk and doing the same back at him. "This isn't about me, this is about you thinking you're the only one who knows what he's doing! Well unless you've gotten an MD at some point in that lost lifetime of yours, I'm going to tell you you don't have a damn clue!"

"And let me tell you how much dat matters from some cop dat still believes in what de righteousness of de law and what de paper tells her! De fact is dat Remy know how to take care of himself, and even have time to take care other people dat need it. Dat is a medical title, and not a fucking blessing anointed by God, Bartlet. It certainly don't mean you not just as fucked up and full of shit as de rest of us!" Both were yelling, inches from each other's face.

"I never said I was! But for Christ's sake, I'm a doctor and I'm just trying to do my job! Avoid another fucking disaster perhaps!" She was going to kill him, swear to God she was going to grab him by the head and pound his stupid arrogant face into the desk... Her uninjured hand did rise from
the desk, apparently of its own volition, grabbing Remy firmly by the back of his hair, but instead of slamming him into the desk, something else totally unexpected happened.

She kissed him.

Remy LeBeau's mutant power of enhanced spatial awareness was remarkably powerful. His mind was able to track, plot and update the state, position and movement of anything he saw, making him nigh untouchable in combat. It was so acute, that he could even deflect a bullet with his staff, moving directly on the path of the round in the flash of a second it took.

But this one, appropriately, he never saw coming.

The first thought that flashed through Madelyn's mind was 'what the hell am I doing?', closely followed by 'I'm guessing le Beau, gah!'. Unfortunately another thought chimed in at that stage, pointing out that not only was she kissing him, he was kissing her back, and wasn't it rather good?

The last time Remy had kissed a police officer, he'd been nine. Oddly enough, this was a lot better, but perhaps far more disturbing. His finely honed operative mind had suffered a meltdown, and his instincts had rushed in to fill the gap.

To Madelyn's fortune, Remy's instincts were really good at that.

Rational thought had well and truly vacated by this stage, overwhelmed by good old fashioned hormones. The kiss deepened, and who knows what might have happened if Remy hadn't raised his hands to her shoulders - to push her away or to pull her closer was anyone's guess - and the gesture elicited a muffled exclamation of pain and an instinctive jerking back. "You!" she said, brain still largely disconnected. "What, who... argh!"

Remy wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Dat not--" He cut himself off. Madelyn was looking flushed, either from anger, desire or embarrassment, he couldn't tell, and glaring daggers back at him. "You got a good explanation for dat, femme?"

"Me?" Well, she had kissed him first, her brain supplied cheerfully. "Uh, temporary insanity brought on by incoherent rage?" she supplied. "And it takes two to..." She couldn't say the word 'kiss', not in this context. "Any way, I didn't see you pulling away."

"Dat's because you had me by the hair." Remy made a wincing chomping motion, like he'd just eaten a bad oyster. "I think I can still taste you."

"I know I can still taste you. I think I'm going to be sick." Madelyn did in fact look slightly green. "Ugh, I need mouthwash, now. What on earth possessed me to..." Reaction was catching up well and truly, and her brain was shrieking at her in outrage. "You say a word about this LeBeau and you're a dead man."

"Oui, because dat's what Remy wants people to think. Dat I'm looking to pick up de Smurf twins' leftovers." Remy sat down at his desk, scowling. "If dat concludes de doctor/patient conference, you mind shutting de door behind you?"

"Who're you calling left... oh forget it, I need to go shower. A lot. Possibly with bleach." Madelyn beat a hasty retreat, closing the door behind her, still vaguely horrified at herself. What on earth had happened? Delayed trauma reaction from all the death she'd seen on Youra? Psychotic break? Yeah, that worked - she was going to go make that appointment with Leonard right now.

Then she paused in mid-flight.

What was that about Smurf Twins and leftovers?