Super Disclaimer: What's theirs is theirs. What's mine is mine. Don't confuse theirs with mine, for a lawsuit often offends.

(An: This is what I get for watching Anastasia at five-thirty in the morning. It's not a plot-copy, nor is it a parody, it's just a play off it that resulted of my tired, Romy-obsessed brain. The only special thing to report here is that Remy's joined the X-men. Which isn't all that special, really.)

Remy LeBeau was upset. Very, very upset indeed.

"Non, non, non, dis can't be happenin'," he muttered, pacing his room. The letter on his bed seemed to be mocking him, the bearer of bad news.

Rogue leaned in his doorway. "Hey, Remy, Ah-" She stopped mid-sentence. "What's up with ya?"

Remy looked over from his pacing. "Bad t'ings, Rogue, very bad t'ings." He gestured at the letter on his bed. "Remember dat girl I told y' about, Belle?"

"The poisonous plant who can't decide whether she want's ta murder ya or marry ya?"

"Oui, dat de one. She found out."

"Found out what?" asked Rogue.

Remy sat down on his bed with a sigh. "She found out dat I ain't workin' for Magneto anymore," he said disparetely.

"Remy, that ain't exactly breakin' news," said Rogue.

"M' family in de South didn't know about it," said Remy. "Dat's what kept me out of havin' t' deal wit' dem, dey t'ought I had a contract wit' Magneto. Which I did, so dey left me alone. But now dey found out I quit. Since m' contract with Xavier is still in legal limbo, dey decided now is a good time to come home."

"Yeah, so?" replied Rogue.

Remy looked up. "Rogue. I cannot marry Belle. She's completely fou! Her whole family is!"

" 'Fou?' " echoed Rogue.

"Crazy! Insane! Whatever! De point is, I'm not gettin' married to her! She's creepy!"

"So how can ya get out of it?"

Remy leaned back against the wall. "Well, dere only seems t' be three options: 1) kill myself. 2) try and fix dat whole t'ing wit' de professor. Or 3), get someone to pretend t' be my fiancee."

"So why haven't ya talked to the professor?"

"I did, dat's de problem!" cried Remy, waving his hands in the air. "He can't do it! Dere's too much red tape! By de time he got it worked out, I'd be married into dat! Stuck for life with the most evil woman on de planet!"

"What about numbah 3?"

"3 is definitely out."

"Why?"

"T'ink about it, Rogue. My list of options is thin."

"There're lots of girls in the mansion," replied Rogue. "Take yer pick."

"Non, dere's not. Well, dere are, but not many are free. T'ink 'bout it." He stood up, and began to tick off names while pacing. "Jean and Kitty are taken. I don't t'ink Scott and Kurt would take kindly t' me 'borrowin' deir girlfriends. Ororo's way too old. Jubilee's goin' out wit' Bobby, Rahne's wit' Sam, and Amara'd probably get along wit' Belle. Not dat I'd go anywhere near dose girls anyway. Waaay too young. And I'd never pretend t' be gay. So dat leaves you, and you'd never-" He stopped and gave her shrewd look, and then shook his head. "Non, you'd never do it."

"Do what?"

"Pretend t' be engaged t' me!"

"Got that right," muttered Rogue.

" 'M doomed," said Remy, flopping back on his bed. "Y' may as well hang me now. De noose's already 'round m' neck." He let out a pathetic moan.

Rogue sighed. "Are ya sure there's no other way out of it?"

"Y' think I haven't spent de last four hours tryin' to figure dat out? Dere's no other ways. It's all over. 'M doomed. Farewell freedom."

"What makes ya think Ah won't help ya?" asked Rogue, bending over him so she was looking into his face.

"Because you hate me. Y' can't stand t' be in de same room wit' me for more den a half-hour. My day isn't complete until y' tell me t' curl up and die. Must I go on? Can't you just leave me mourn m' life in peace?" His expression was pathetic, like a puppy that's been hit several times by the same person.

"How long would Ah havta do this?" asked Rogue.

Remy blinked and opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a dieing fish. "...About two weeks, I t'ink. One to work on de con and one at the most down in N'Awlins. Y' mean you'd do it?" His expression was still puppy-like, but now it was a puppy being stroked by said person.

"Ah think Ah can survive two weeks..." said Rogue.

"YES!" shouted Remy, springing off the bed. He threw his arms around Rogue's neck. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

"Remy-"

Kazap!

"Y' okay, swamp rat?" asked Rogue in a distinctly Cajun accent.

"Oui, just let m' find m' dignity," said Remy from the floor.

"Good luck wit' dat. When do w' leave?" Rogue ground her teeth. The things I do for this idiot, she thought.

"A week enough time?" asked Remy, pulling himself up.

"Ah havta put up with y' dat long?" asked Rogue.

"Ordinarily, non. But t' convince dem to let m' off, we have t' train y'."

"In what, fifty best ways t' pull off a con?"

"Y' could put it dat way," said Remy, sitting on the bed again. "Although we only need to convince 'em of 5 t'ings. Things dey've come to expect from m' girlfriends."

"Which would be?" asked Rogue, talking almost normally again. She leaned against the wall.

"Well, 1 is good," he said, walking around Rogue.

"What's 1?"

"She has to be tres belle. Got dat down. 2, we can work on. She has to know how to dance- waltzes and all that merde. 3 is out though."

"What's 3?"

"Romantic crap- kissin' and all dat."

"Oh, yeah, definitely out," muttered Rogue.

"Anyway, hmmm, 4 is do-able too."

"And 4 is...?"

"Convincin' 'em dat-" he put on his best tragic-guy-in-love expression, "y' just can't go against l'amour."

Rogue snorted.

"And 5's good too. We just have t' forge a few papers. Meet m' dis time tommorrow, in de rec room, oui?"

"Whatevah. See ya tomorrow, swamp rat," said Rogue and walked out."

THE NEXT DAY

Kurt was stretched out on the couch when Remy walked in, looking frazzled. "What's up with you?" he asked.

"Your sister cannot dance," he replied absently.

"What?" asked Kurt, sitting up.

Remy didn't appear to hear him. He walked into the kitchen and began flipping through the cookbooks, choosing one and walking back out.

Kurt blinked and bamfed after him.

Outside in the courtyard, Rogue was sitting on a bench, massaging her forehead. Kurt bamfed next to her. "Hi Rogue!" he said.

Rogue blinked. "Oh, hi Kurt. What're ya doin' here?"

"I wanted to see what you and Remy were doing," he replied.

Rogue blinked again and seemed to snap out of a trance. "Oh, no, no, no. Get out of here. It's bad enough Ah'm makin' a fool of mahself in front of the swamp rat. There's no way Ah'm actin' stupid in front of ya and havin' it spread throughout the entire mansion!" She stood up and made a shooing motion at him.

Kurt gave her an evil grin but didn't move.

"Don't ya have a date with Kitty or somethin'?" asked Rogue, putting her hands on her hips.

"Nope, not for another-" he checked his watch, "two hours, anyway. And this is almost as interesting as meine Katzchen, anyway." His grin grew wider and he bamfed to a tree. His teeth and eyes glinted at her.

"Get down from there. Ya look like some freaky blue cheshire cat."

Kurt was about to comply when Remy came in. He was holding the cookbook, a tape measure, and a good bit of string.

"What's all that for?" asked Rogue, looking suspicious.

"Balance!" replied Remy. "Balance is de key!"

Rogue sat back down on the bench. "Why did Ah agree ta this again?!" she asked the sky.

"Agree to what?" asked Kurt from the tree.

"Ack!" said Remy. "Kurt, what are y' doin' here?!"

"Trying to figure out what you guys are doing here," said Kurt in a 'duh' tone.

Remy nearly dropped his stuff. "Mon Diue, can't I ever catch a break?" he muttered as he set down his stuff on an unoccupied bench. He then pulled Rogue to her feet and began to arrange the items.

Then Kitty phased in. "Hey, Kurt, do you, like, still have my sweater? I can't find it, like, anywhere." Kitty trailed off, seeing the strange scene before her.

Remy had stretched a length of string between Kurt's tree and the benches. Rogue was attempting to walk along it with the cookbook balanced on her head.

Kurt bamfed over by Kitty. "It's weird, isn't it?" he asked. "And no, I don't have your lovely sweater. Did you ask Jubilee?"

"Like, yeah but she said she, like, hasn't seen it either and Amara-" She stopped short as Rogue tipped over with a shriek. Remy quickly stepped up and grabbed her before she hit the ground.

Both teens groaned. "Dis is goin' t' take longer den I thought," muttered Remy, helping her up. He led her back towards the benches and put the cookbook back on her head. "Try again. We have t' get dis down."

"Ok, what are you two, like, doing?" asked Kitty, putting her hands on her hips.

Remy and Rogue looked over like they had just noticed she was there (which they had). "Er..." they both said in unison.

"Well?" asked Kitty, tapping her foot.

"Trust meh Kit, ya wouldn't believe us," said Rogue, shaking her head.

"Try me," replied Kitty, raising her eyebrows.

"Ok, sit down. It's a bit of a story." Kitty and Kurt complied. Rogue leaned against the tree. "Ya get the first part, swamp rat."

Remy sighed. "All right, it goes like dis. Dere's dis crazy woman back in N'Awlins, see. I had an arranged marriage wit' her, very messy affair. So I got her off my back when I joined Magneto. So, just now, de Guilds down South found out dat I'm workin' for Xavier. Since I don't have a contract wit' him- not yet, anyway- dey decided it was time to call me back. Your turn," he said, prodding Rogue.

"So Ah walked into the swamp rat's room yesterday, and he's actin' like a puppy, see. The only other way he'd get out of it is if someone pretended to be engaged ta him. So, somehow, he convinced meh ta act tha part. So now he's tryin' ta teach meh ta waltz."

"What does that have to do with all that?" asked Kurt, gesturing at the string and the cookbook.

"Rogue doesn't have de balance t' waltz," said Remy.

"Ah do too have balance!" snapped Rogue. "Ah just can't lean on a swamp rat! Mah reputation is bad enough as is!"

"So you two are going to attempt to convince a group of thieves that you guys- who can't stand each other- are engaged? You'll never pull it off," said Kurt. "Unless..." he said, looking over at Kitty.

" 'Unless?' " echoed Remy and Rogue with blank looks.

"Unless you have help."

"So that's why we'll, like, come with you!" finished Kitty. Kurt nodded.

"Oh, Lord," said Rogue and Remy in unison.

"Don't do that," said Kurt. "It's creepy, really." He bobbed his head in an exuberant nod.

The other two groaned and leaned agains the tree. "That's it, we're dead," said Rogue.

"Oui," said Remy. "I thought Belle was bad. Dis is worse. Betrayed by m' own friends. De end is near, chere."

"Got that right, anyway."

DAY TWO

The group was once again out in the courtyard.

Rogue and Remy collapsed on the ground, looking fatigued. "Well, we got the waltz down, anyway," said Remy. "Just be glad m' family doesn't like de foxtrot."

Kurt and Kitty were plotting quietly in the corner.

"Should we do something about them?" asked Rogue.

"We'll kill them later, oui?"

"Yeah. Later's good."

DAY THREE

"Oh, no, no, NO!" Rogue ducked behind the couch. "There is NO way Ah'm wearin' that!"

"Wearin' what?" asked Remy, walking into the rec room.

"That," said Rogue, pointing at the dress on the coffee table with a finger that shook.

"That" was a sleeveless dark purple dress with a light blue shawl. It was long and fancy. Rogue looked terrified at the prospect of going anywhere near it.

"Aw, come on, Rogue, it's, like, awesome!" said Kitty, trying to coax Rogue out.

"Yeah!" said Kurt, bobbing his head like he had two days earlier. "Come on, at least try it on?"

"NO!" yelled Rogue.

Remy was looking at the dress and then at Rogue with that shrewd expression again. "It's perfect," he said with a nod.

Rogue squeaked and went farther behind the couch. "NO!" she shouted again.

Remy stuck his head down by her. "You're goin' t' wear it, Rogue," he said firmly. "M' parents are sticklers for tradition. This should shut them up, on that aspect at least. Don't you want to see if it fits first?"

Rogue just glared at him. "Come a little closer and say that," she said in a growl.

DAY FOUR

"Ah can't believe Ah'm doin' this!" shouted Rogue, throwing her arms in the air.

"What is an engagement wit'out a ring?" asked Remy, dragging her along.

Yes, Kurt and Kitty were coming along for the ride, if only to laugh their heads off. Even now they were quietly snickering.

They stopped in front of Zales.

"Dis is it," said Remy, taking a hesitant step. "May I never have t' do dis again," he muttered.

Kurt and Remy began to examine the shelves. They were both experts on jewelry. Neither had gained their knowledge by reputable means. (Kurt is a Romany Gypsy. They don't usually steal things, but people say they do. So they get taught to know when they're getting ripped off because of their reputations.)

Rogue was just leaning her head against the cool glass of the window by the seats in the corner. Kitty was attempting to cheer her up.

"This looks like a good one," said Kurt, pointing at a small gold ring. It had three diamonds set in it and was labeled "The Eternity Ring."

"Hmm," murmered Remy, inspecting it. "It's a bit of a rip-off, but I guess beggars can't be choosers." He shrugged.

"Can I help you?" asked "Hello-my-name-is-Jean-Claude-how-may-I-rip-you-off-today?" JC for short. JC did not like having- ugh- teenagers in his store. They left fingerprints on the glass and nosemarks on the counters. And they were always dressed so- also ugh- commonly!

"Dat one," said Remy, pointing at the Eternity Ring. His face was carefully blank and his hands were jammed in his pockets.

"Ah, yes," said JC in his best "Simpering French Guy Who Lives to Serve" tone. "A fine choice, if a bit expensive. Are you sure you can pay for it?"

Remy pulled out a wad of bills. "Do y' take cash?"

JC nearly fainted with delight. People rarely payed in cash. "Why, yes, of course, sir," said JC. Maybe he could convince them to let him take the whole wad.

But no, the one who'd spoken pulled a few bills out of the wad and handed them to him. The wad wasn't much decreased.

JC nearly dropped his "Simpering Servant" act. Nearly, anyway. He handed them the ring without another word.

His friend spoke up, grinning somewhat evilly, or so it seemed to JC. "Oh, and the next time you have customers, you might like to put out the ones with real diamonds in them," he said sweetly. "Might take the, er, reputation of this fine store down a few notches, ja?"

The one with the ring rolled his eyes. He headed for the door. "Come on, Rogue," he said over his shoulder.

JC was still in shock when the teenagers exited. "How rude," he muttered, long after they'd walked out.

DAY FIVE

The group was sitting in Remy's room. Remy was pacing again, checking things off a list. "Ok, dancing, check. Dress, check. Ring, check. De next t'ing on de list is French." He sighed and looked rather apprehensive.

"Ah can speak French, swamp rat," snapped Rogue.

"Yes, but dey don't usually teach swear words in class, oui? It would be best if you knew what m' family was callin' y' behind your back. And anyway, I've heard y' speak French. Your accent is terrible."

"Nice ta know," muttered Rogue.

Kurt and Kitty smiled impishly. It was amazing how much they looked alike when they did that. "We'll, like, leave you two alone, shall we?" said Kitty sweetly. Kurt bamfed them both out.

"What's up wit' dem?" asked Remy, looking confused.

"They never make sense. Can we get this over with?"

Remy blinked and nodded. "Ok, let's see," he muttered as he pulled out another list.

"How many of those do ya have?" asked Rogue, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Lots," said Remy absently. "If I don't write somethin' down I tend t' forget it." He skimmed it. "Ok, what they're expectin' me t' say to y' is a lot of endearments- chere, mon cour, je t'aime, all dat. They don't know what you'll say though." He looked up at her expectantly.

"Ah suppose Ah could call ya sugah," said Rogue in a tone that suggested she'd rather not.

"Oui, sugah'll work," he muttered. He then explained the meanings of several rude things in French, which I can't put here and still have a PG rating.

Rogue looked rather stunned by the time he finished. "That's a pretty long list, swamp rat."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Dat's why I never swear in English. Y' run out faster. And usually people can't tell what I'm callin' dem."

Rogue snorted.

Remy pulled out the first list. "Ok, French, check."

DAY SIX

"Now, I t'ink de only t'ing left is t' forge some papers," said Remy to Rogue. "We got de whole t'ing worked out wit' Xavier and all dat. I t'ink we're almost done."

Rogue leaned on the back of the couch. "Finally," she muttered.

"What," asked Remy, looking up. "Haven't y' been enjoyin m' company?" He ducked the pillow Rogue threw at him.

A FEW HOURS LATER

"Sign here, and here, and here," said Remy, handing Rogue a pen.

She did, and Remy stacked the various papers. "We're done wit' dat. Now all we gotta do is pack."

DAY SEVEN

Rogue stared at the contents of her closet and wardrobe in disgust. There just wasn't much that would work in hot weather. "Arrgh," she muttered and let off a few of the curses she'd learned from Remy.

Kitty wasn't having the same problem. She had already packed. She phased in. "Still, like, having trouble?" she asked.

"Yeah," replied Rogue. She was about to say more when Kitty began going through her stuff. "Wha-?"

"I'm, like, helping you," replied Kitty in a 'duh' tone. "We've just got to balance the skin-covering clothes with the cool ones."

Rogue watched, mouth agape, as in the space of about five minutes, Kitty accomplished what she'd been attempting for the past hour.

"See?" asked Kitty, smiling. "That was easy! You'll just have to, like, stick close to Remy with some of the outfits." She grinned at Rogue and walked out.

Rogue blinked. That girl nevah fails to amaze meh.

A FEW HOURS LATER, THE PLANE

Kurt grinned and leaned back in his seat. "We look like a bunch of regular tourists, ja, meine fruend?"

Remy didn't answer. He just groaned and leaned his head against the window.

"What, the swamp rat doesn't get airsick, now does he?" asked Rogue, grinning. She and Kitty were seated behind the guys.

"A slow and painful death on you all," muttered Remy, and then looked as though he regretted speaking.

"Here," said Kurt. "As a token of my esteem, you can have my barf bag."

Remy gave him a look that suggested he would die first. Painfully.

A FEW MORE HOURS LATER, NEW ORLEANS

Remy had never looked more relieved than when they got off that plane. Then he seemed to remember why they were here. "I think I'm going t' be sick," he muttered.

"What, again?" asked the others in unison.

"Why can't you all shut up?!" he begged.

"Because we're doing you a favor, remember?" Rogue said.

"I should've hung myself when I had the chance," muttered Remy under his breath.

They took a taxi to the Guild headquarters.

The group looked up at the building. "And now, mes amis, we die."

"Don't be so gloomy!" said Kitty. Somehow she had managed to hold onto her perkiness.

Remy looked over at her, an expression of pure shock on his face. "You are seriously deranged."

"Like, thanks!" said Kitty. Her perkiness covered a good bit of the sarcasm.

Remy turned around to face his friends. "Ok guys, here's de way it works: No sudden movements, don't eat anything Emil offers you, and do not approach m' pere. Dey'll take it as an assassination attempt, and dey probably still haven't cleaned the floor from the last one." He turned to the door. His expression was that of a man about to walk down death row, or something similar.

He knocked on the door.

(Mwa-hahahah! How's that for a cliffhanger? I am aware that I should be working on my other fics, but this was just too fun to pass up. Read and Review. I'm so happy to finally have a story with Kurt in it that doesn't involve humor or an OC! -squeezes mini-blue elf-)