I had always loved Belladonna. Even at the tender age of fourteen, when our on-again-off-again shaky romance was perhaps two weeks in, I realized that I had loved her. Just a few years prior, mon Pere had informed me of how we were to unite the guilds. I was ten years old, I had still believed that all girls had cooties and weren't supposed to come into your treehouse.

But the teenage years have you feeling everything deeper than you do before them, and after them.

I remember being fourteen well, it was quite the year. I achieved my Master Thief status, I had my first hangover, and mistook my brother-sister-type puppy-dog love for the real deal with Belladonna.

And then the years flew, four of them, until I was just barely legal, and still rebellious as hell to my seemingly uncaring father. By this time, I had realized that an arranged marriage wasn't at all on my agenda, and that I was almost offended by the very idea. Screw that, I was offended by the idea. I'm his son! Didn't he want me to marry of my own accord, for love, happiness?

I know Pere cares about me. He just thinks in a fashion that I could never—If someone is around and convenient, you use them. It's just that simple. He doesn't really comprehend that people are hurt by this, it's just not in his nature.

Anyway, I knew I had always loved Belle. Belladonna Boudreaux is a drop-dead gorgeous blonde bombshell, add in the fact that she can wield practically any kind of weapon imaginable without a second thought, well… Ask any male what he thinks of that image.

The difference is, she never really loved me. In truth, I think my decision to join Magneto was also highly influenced by that fact, not just rebellion to my father and his tactlessness. I was eighteen-ish, almost nineteen, and I was feeling depressed, rebellious, angry, and all-out spiteful. Spiteful to my father and the way he used me, spiteful to Belladonna and how she always made me wear sunglasses when she was anywhere near me, spiteful to my guild, spiteful to my own mutant status. And then, out of the blue, comes this recruiting call from some basket-case.

Now, under normal circumstances, I would have listened three sentences in and hung up the phone with a laugh. A known mutant terrorist, trying to recruit me to be his minion? Hell no. I'm a thief, not a killer or a lackey of any kind. But like I said, spiteful, rebellious, angry, and when I overheard my father, that stubborn streak that I posses to this very day flared up.

"Non, monsieur, Remy cannot take your offer," Jean-Luc had spoken into the phone that day. "Y' are jus' goin' t' have t' find someone else for—" And that was when I ripped the phone from his fingers.

"H'lo, dis be Remy LeBeau. May I ask who is callin'?" I asked while I glared daggers into my father's face, taking full advantage of my demon eyes.

"Ah, finally," a deep, wise voice spoke from the other line. "My name is Erik Lensherr, and I would like to recruit you to be a member of my mutant Acolytes." He patiently awaited my response as I waged a war with my eyes at my Pere.

"Sure, I'll do it." I grinned as I said it. Take that, bitch, I had thought toward my father.

"Ah, excellent. I and one of my associates will be in New Orleans on Bourbon Street tomorrow at noon. Be there." And without a goodbye, the man had hung up.

"Do y' have any idea what ya just signed yo'self up for?" Jean-Luc had demanded as I smirked at his rage. "Any idea what y' jus' done to de guild? T' y' family?" I gave him a casual one-fingered wave goodbye as I strolled out of the office I had stormed into minutes earlier.

I didn't know then that I would be working a year for Magneto, that I would miss Tante and Henri and Mercy any my cousins so much while I was away. I didn't know then that I would end up doing so many things that I would hate myself for while under the employment of Buckethead. I didn't know that I would meet the most intriguing, gorgeous, enchanting femme I had ever laid eyes on, or that she would hate my guts after the first time we met. I sure as hell hadn't guessed that I would kidnap said intriguing girl.

What I did guess right was that I would end up back in the guild. Or, in my case, guilds.

That's right, I'm married to Belle. It circled back to Belladonna. It always circles back to Belladonna.

The year that I had worked for Magneto came to an abrupt halt after I had brought ma Cherie to Louisiana. My father had guilted me into staying for a while, and that was all it took to rope me back into guild politics.

After the large ceremony that had been attended by most of both guilds, Belle had moved into the thieves guild-house. We weren't but two months into out new life when Belladonna had said three words to change everything I thought:

"Remy, I'm pregnant."

That was five years and nine months ago.

Remy, I'm pregnant. Those words just kept circling around in my head. We really did not need this right now. I mean, sure, we were both destined to be the leaders of our guilds, and since we were married we would have to be with each other always. We would have to be faithful, and act loving. That was what was going to unite our guilds.

In spite of those things, having a child now would add so many complications. Lord knows that Jean-Luc and Marius would not hand their guilds over until the were old and senile. While I usually joked about Pere being old, I highly doubted he and Marius would show any signs of senility within nine months.

There was also the issue of where the child would grow up. Which guild house, thief or assassin? Or should Belladonna and I just get our own house off somewhere private?

These thoughts were all running through my mind, very worrisome. And yet, I could not beat down the pure joy bubbling to the surface. I couldn't restrain the excitement, and it had shown on my face, sparkling in my eyes, and causing a huge grin that ended up making my face hurt.

"'M gonna be a Pere?" I whispered to Belle. She gave a much smaller smile than mine and nodded.

"Oui."

Looking back now, I realize a few things I didn't back then. I had been doting on my wife, waiting on her hand and foot to the point where she would periodically remind me that she was not an invalid. I didn't care. I was so happy. This woman that I knew I loved, (though I was confused as to what extent) was going to have my child.

I was elated when we found out it was going to be a boy. I was imaging all the things we would be able to do together in time. Teaching him to play catch, helping him with his homework, birthdays, first steps, first holidays, all of it.

What I realize now, is that I didn't recognize how Belle really didn't seem to have any opinions on this baby at all. I wasn't able to see it over my own joyous preparations. But she wasn't happy, or sad about anything to do with the baby itself. Pregnancy on the other hand… Let's just say having to take maternity leave was not on Belladonna's list of things to do.

But when that boy was born, I actually saw a spark of something akin to love, or maybe just caring, as she held him and stroked his tiny fluff of blonde hair. I think she finally realized, this was her child. Her flesh and blood. So helpless, and tiny, and in need of nurturing.

But then he opened his eyes. In that instant, I saw that spark leave Belladonna's eyes. In fact, her eyes went as hard and uncaring as glass, and her body went rigid.

"Take him," she said coldly as she held him out to me. I didn't see what the problem was until I looked into my son's eyes for the first time. I let out a little gasp.

Blue on black. The same color of blue as his mother's eyes. Really, there was no mistaking that this was Belladonna's child. It was there on the color of his eyes, and that little fluff of hair on his head was the same color of spun gold as Belle's. It was sticking up at some funny angles, and I wasn't sure if that was because he was a newborn, or because he inherited my hair and how impossible it was to tame.

I ended up naming him, because Belladonna just didn't seem interested in anything going on around her. I put it off to childbirth being tiring. I named him Alexander Henri LeBeau.

I loved that child like nothing else, and I still do. But Belladonna was distanced from him, and she soon grew to hate him outright. Mercy brought this to my attention on his second birthday. I was true, and on some level I had known it for a while, and it broke my heart. How could anyone hate an innocent child? Especially one as sweet as my Xandy?

Xandy… I still owe Emil a good ass-kicking for that one. Who nicknames a child Xandy? Well, Emil apparently, because it would 'piss me off.' I kept telling him not to call my son that. It stuck anyway. Five years after the fact and my son is still introducing himself as Xandy. Ah, well. I suppose that's my Karma for insisting on calling 'Ro 'Stormy' when she was still with us, as much as it annoyed her.

All this tension over Belladonna and Xandy came to a head about a month ago, on Xandy's fifth birthday, in August.

I had found out that Belladonna had hired one of her assassins to off him. When I confronted her about it, she had yelled in my face, "I had to, Remy! He fucked up all my plans! I need him out of my life."

"Out of your life?" I had asked incredulously. "He's not even in it! So, what, you've just kept him around for appearances, is dat it?"

"Oui! Dat's exactly it! Because your stupid t'ieves would 'ave been sore about it if I'd aborted de little freak!"

At that point, I had done something I swore I would never do outside of combat; I hit a woman. Slapped that chienne right across the face. (chienne: bitch)

"How dare y'?" My voice was pure venom, and there was a deep and fiery rage burning in my chest. That was my son she was talking about! "I'm leavin', Belle. Fuck de guilds, fuck dis stupid situation, an' fuck you." I made a decision right then to get the hell away from this psychopath that I had thought I loved.

I turned around to the wardrobe that was standing behind me (We had been talking in our bedroom.) And ripped the doors open so forcefully, I'm surprised that the whole thing didn't fall on me. I then grabbed a few outfits off their hangers, and grabbed the duffel bag that was resting on the floor of the wardrobe. I stuffed the clothes into it as I walked out of the room and down the hallway. When I came to Xandy's room, I grabbed a bunch of his clothes and stuffed them in the duffel bag, too. I was about to leave the room when I noticed Xandy's favorite toy. He never went anywhere without it, a ragged old stuffed alligator.

I had found it among the dusty old boxes in the attic when I went up there for the photo albums. I had wanted to show Xandy some pictures of ma Maman, and Jean-Luc refused to have any in his vicinity with any regularity. They were too painful for him. I could understand this, of course. Even though I had only known her, Alexandra LeBeau, for a few years when I was eight and nine, I lover her dearly, and missed her deeply. But I thought that Xandy should see who his Grandmere was, and who he was named after.

But as soon as he caught sight of that alligator, it's smiling mouth and one button eye hanging on to its head by a thread, he loved it. Tante Mattie had sewed the eye back into place and stitched up a hole where stuffing was falling out. The hole used to be a leg, but it looked like it had been ripped off the poor, bedraggled toy. Her name was Greta Gator, and Xandy loved her.

I pulled myself out of my musings and threw the toy into the duffel. Zipping up the bag, I made my way out of the room and down the hall to the staircase. I could hear Xandy and Henri's voices drifting up the stairs. Before heading down, I schooled my features into a smile.

Walking into the common room, I saw Xandy sitting on the floor, drawing on construction paper with his brand new pencils we had gotten him for school, he was going to start in the fall. He was explaining what he was drawing to Henri.

"See, Oncle, dat's Greta Gator, dere's me, dere's Pere. He's stickin' his tongue out at Grandpere. Dere's y' and Tante Mercy. An' Tante Mattie's tellin' Belladonna dat she can't have any cookies." I smiled sadly at the last declaration. My son barely even registered that Belle was his mother. So much so that he called her by her name. He knew that technically, she was his mom. But he didn't ever call her 'Mere,' or 'Maman' or even 'Mom.'

Henri looked up at me. He threw me a concerned look at the bag I was holding. He knew that this was my 'running' bag, I had used it often enough. I ignored the look as I made my way over to them. I sat the bag down on the coffee table, and went over to sit on the floor with Xandy.

"Hey, kiddo. I have a birthday surprise fo' ya." I tell him. He looked up at me with wide eyes. Those blue on black eyes, so much me, yet so much Belladonna.

"Wow, really? What is it, Pere?" he asks.

"Y' an' me, we're gonna go on a li'l trip. Jus' de two o' us."

"Oh, cool!" he jumped up from his seat on the floor, drawing forgotten. "Where we goin' Pere?"

"Um. We goin' up North," I blurted without thinking. I decided I liked this plan and went along with it. "We're goin' t' de town I lived in a while back. If y' like it dere, dat's where we'll stay."

"Stay?" Xandy asked. "But what about Grandpere, an' Oncle Henri, Tante Mercy an' Mattie?" I definitely noticed how the only person he left out was Belladonna. Good for him.

"Dey can visit us, Xandy," I assured him. Truth was, I was dubious about Tante Mattie or Pere ever visiting. Pere ain't been out of state since he got the guild handed down to him, and I'm not sure Tante Mattie's ever been out of New Orleans. "Jus' t'ink, Xandy. It'll be a great adventure. Ya and I will meet all kinds o' new people, an' see all kinds o' t'ings. And," my tone turned mischievous. "Steal from all kinds o' different places an' people."

That adorable, fiendish glint in his eye told me that I had him. All I had let him do so far was a bit of low-level pickpocketing on unsuspecting tourists, but I did know hat he wanted to do much more.

"So, go say goodbye to Tante Mattie an' yo' Gramdpere," I told him. "We're leavin' in twenty minutes." And with that he raced out of the room. When he was out of earshot, Henri turned to me.

"So, y' mind tellin' me what de hell dat was all about?" He asked me.

"Belle has a hit order out on him. Th' only way he'll be safe is if I get him the hell out of N'Awlins. So dat's what I'm doin'."

"Good lord… She's his Mere!" Henri immediately switched to rage. "What de fuck she t'inkin'?"

"I don' really gave a half a damn. I jus' wan' my son t' be safe." I sighed. "Pass de message on t' Pere an' Mercy an' Tante Mattie fo' me, s'il vous plait? I don' have time fo' goodbyes, or any more explanations. De hit's scheduled fo' sometime today." Henri nodded.

"Go. Get him to safety."

And that's exactly what I did.

Don't worry, it'll be a Romy. And I'm seriously enjoying writing form Remy's point of view, too.

Please review, reviews are love and I'm feeling lonely. So give me a little joyness in my life and press that little button down there. If you don't have an account, or aren't logged in, you could always leave and anonymous review… *Puppy-Dog Eyes*

—Zandra :3