Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel, not me. Just borrowing them without permission, thank you very much. "Matters of the Heart" by Tracy Chapman belongs to SBK April Music/Purple Rabbit Music, and is quoted without permission. I'm not making ANY money off this, so please don't sue.

I know this isn't my best work, but I'd appreciate any comments thrown my way. No flames please -- they'll be flushed down the toilet along with bits of Barney.

I have no harsh words for you,
I have no tears to cry,
If the moon were full,
I'd be howling inside,
It only hurts,
In matters of the heart...

As the song wound to a stop, the coffee slowly cooled into the consistency of liquid mud. He sipped it warily, and grimaced.

He needed the caffeine. He wondered it it was worth it to get up and choose another song from the jukebox.

She was late.

As always. Everything between them was always too late. Always late, and always wrong.

He was vaguely aware that he was thinking in circles, and tried to stop. But the cold numbness that replaced it was no better, sapping away what was left of his heart.

A whiff not-quite magnolias alerted him to her presence.

"Bon jour, cherie. Pleased t'see you."

Green eyes looked at him, her emotions hidden behind emerald walls. "Don't lie, Remy."

Fire cracked the ice. "You don' have t'snap at me like dat."

She glared back. "Ah'm not snappin' at ya, ah'm tellin' th' truth. Learn ta tell th' diff'rence."

Unspoken were the words "If you had, maybe our marriage wouldn't end like this", but he could still feel the sting, a thorn lodged somewhere in his chest.

"Signed de papers?"

"This very mornin'." She sent away the persistent waitress, and fiddled with the menu. "Ah don't know why ah agreed ta meet ya."

"Closure?" he suggested with a sardonic smirk.

"Mebbe ya need it, but ah don't. Ah've said an' heard ev'rything ah need ta say an' hear."

He studied her with that inscrutable gaze, the one which she used to think was sexy. "Never saw dat cruel side of you, Rogue, 'fore de end." Malice flashed unnoticed in the hellfire depths. "Hope your new cheri's all briefed on it? Shame if--"

"Shut up," she hissed. "An' he has a name. Use it."

"How's he, by de way?" he asked, ignoring the diamond edge in her tone. "Not keepin' you too busy t'go on missions?"

The menu tore under her fingers. "Say his name. SAY IT."

He gripped the coffee cup, kinetic charge ready to be channeled at will.

Stalemate.

Time ticked on like the peals of funeral bells.

Reluctantly, he capitulated.

"Clint. You happy now?"

"Very," she growled. "Ah'm leavin'."

He caught her sleeve, slender fingers pale against the dark green cashmere. "Non. Remy's not finished talkin'," he said harshly.

For a moment she looked as if she was going to throttle him. Then she shrugged, took her seat and stared at him challengingly.

"Do you t'ink we ever had a chance?"

She was visibly taken aback. "Ah..." she faltered to a stop. She rested her elbows on the table, cupping her cheek with one hand as she tried to think of an answer. "No. Ah'm sorry, Remy."

Whatever reaction she was expecting, it was obviously not anger. "So why de hell did you marry me? Tell me, Rogue. Tell me why you wasted years wit' somethin' dat's doomed from de start. Did you even love me?"

"Ah thought ah was!" she said defensively.

"You t'ought you were," he sneered.

"Ya kept secrets from me, even when ya knew ah wouldn't betray ya."

"You lef' me in th' Antartic."

"Ya turned me inta a fool."

"My fault, or yours?"

They glared across the stained table. As one, the two stood up.

"Dis was a waste of time."

"Ya tellin' me?"

"W'at do you know, we agreed on somethin'. A miracle."

"Go ta hell."

"Same t'you." He pushed away from the table, knowing in his heart that he would never stop hating her. For what she done, and for what she made him do. "Au revoir, Rogue."

"Good bye." Anger seethed within her, and she mentally cursed him with all the misery in the world. How had she ever loved him? "Don't let th' door hit ya on th' ass."

THE END