I'm finally writing my own Romy! Why, you might ask (doubt it, though)? The answer's easy: Neurotic Temptress. Her works, especially "Hazard", inspired me. Colorful, emotional, tantalizing, intuitive, and inventive are just a few words to describe her works. I suggest you read them, because you'll be hard pressed to find a Remy and Rogue fan fiction of this caliber. So formally:

Dedicated to Neurotic Temptress, a great conversationalist, a great inspirator, and a great author all in herself. Now that's hard to come by.

But before I start this is important, mind you, there are some key factors I'd like to point out. The parts that must be read to understand the fan fiction are bold, and what is not are of no major consequence if you do not read these. So here:

This is set around the time Professor Xavier had those flash-forwards at the end of the series. You know, the ones where the X-Men were in different uniforms.

Rogue has never met Gambit before and neither has anyone else, even Storm and Magneto. Therefore, anything that he does in the series is given to another character. "Cajun Spice" is non-existent.

Gambit is still in the Thieves Guild. Thus he is still associated with Jean-Luc, Julien and the Rippers (who are the equivalents to the Assassins Guild of the comics). Henri and Marius exist, along with the variety of Remy's cousin's, although Belladonna does not.

Take in mind the new look of the X-Men. The only thing different is that Rogue is wearing gloves and has a black leather trench coat, rather than the brown duster.

So, without further ado, I'd like to present my first Romy!

Mannequins
Part One: Capture
Chapter One: Watched

When we are unable to find tranquility within ourselves, it is useless to seek it elsewhere.

- Francois De La Rochefoucauld

New Orleans was bustling with people from all over the country, filled with laughter and voices and smells. Cheery colors covered houses and shops alike while the sidewalks were teeming with adults and children, both shoving and standing tall for a good view of the festive parade of Mardi Gras.

The shops were especially noisy, with lively conversations and shouts from the waiters and chefs in English and French. People ordered more than their fill of their favorite foods, trying to savor the taste before the fasting of Lent arrived. The only cafés that seemed generally unaffected by the cheery holiday were in the unknown alleys, quiet, but quaint.

In one of the smallest shops down a nearly invisible alley, only two tables were occupied. One was by a young couple, both apparently in their early-twenties. The other table, which was seated in the farthest corner, had two even younger girls. The tallest was pale to the point of translucence, with strange hair; auburn coupled with unique white bangs. The other was wearing an ensemble of only purple and turquoise, sticking out from the dirt-brown walls of the cafe. She was rubbing a lock of her short brown hair between two fingers and talking animatedly.

"We, should, like, go see the parade Rogue! C'mon, it'll be fun!" The girl began to pull at her hair. "It's not as if we get a vacation everyday! This might be our last chance!" The girl released her hair and picked up Rogue's gloved hand. "And you know you don't have an excuse anyway!" The other remained adamant and secure, just staring out the window where they were sitting near. "Rogue! C'mon! For me?" Rogue turned her face to the small brunette. Taking this as a sign of some relenting, the girl pulled harder. "We, like, have to."

Rogue finally opened her mouth to speak, "No, we don't, Kitty. You yahself can. Ah'm stayin' right here. Or Ah can go back to the hotel."

Kitty suddenly released her hand and stood to stomp her foot. The couple -- which seemed absorbed in themselves -- turned to the commotion. "What excuse do you have? None! So we should go!"

"Who's stopping yah! Ah sure as hell ain't!"

"This is completely unfair! I planned this vacation for weeks, Rogue! The prof said I could take only one person Rogue! He said he trusted me enough to handle it on my own! And I chose you, Rogue! I could have chosen, like, Lance or Kurt or Piotr! But I didn't! So come on!"

With a heavy sigh and a glare directed at the irritated younger girl, Rogue seemed to finally give in and stood, collecting her black leather trench coat and slipping into it. "Fahne. Ah'll go. But not 'cause Ah want ta, Kit. 'Cause yah decided that Ah needed a guilt trip. But we're doin' what Ah wanna do aftah this."

Kitty's mood seemed to vanish from annoyed and angry to perky and sprightly in an instant, squealing, "Yeah, sure! Let's go!" The smaller girl grabbed her purse and nearly bolted to the door before turning back to Rogue, who was still at the table. "What are you waiting for? We, like, gotta go!"

"Ah'm just payin' the people! Leave if yo' in such a hurry!"

Kitty waited though, all the while tapping her foot impatiently while Rogue put the money on the table, along with a tip. "Okay, you done? Good! Let's, like, go!"

Bourbon Street -- Kitty insisted -- was the place to be if you wanted to experience the true Mardi Gras. Beads flashed everywhere in the air, being caught usually by some girl flashing her chest to the entire half-drunk crowd. Over to Rogue's right, some fully drunk men and women where dancing a around a golden calf, and hailing it as their god.

The parade floats were decked with mostly purple, green, and gold and Mardi Gras beads were hanging off of nearly every hook and area there was to hang it off. Costumes with feathery hats were everywhere and the entire street was cheering deafeningly.

Rogue spotted a table near her and sat down, unwilling to mingle among the fanatical crowd. Kitty didn't seem to mind, but hovered towards the back, seemingly trying to keep an eye on Rogue and enjoy the festivities at the same time. Rogue watched the floats pass by indifferently, her own thoughts drowning out the steadily growing noise of the throng.

Why had she agreed to come along? If she hadn't, not only would Rogue have a room to herself for two weeks, but also Kitty wouldn't constantly badger her for various opinions of her clothes and hair. It really wasn't a problem before, but now that she had gotten her hair cut enough to be able to see the nape of her neck, she was unsure of "how well does this go with this dress, Rogue? Does it match with my, like, hair?" So what had driven her insane enough to come here?

Which was obvious, the second Rogue gave thought to it.

The psyches. Lately they had been getting worse, trying to influence her, talking to her in roaring voices, attempting to be heard over each other. And at the worst times they conversed with her, and sometimes she forgot herself and spoke aloud to them, like once in Phys. Ed., she not only seemed like a lunatic, but they just became more demanding, more deafening.

She remembered the occasion very clearly, as if it had only happened yesterday, rather than two months ago.

"Rogue? Rogue? Hallo, are you in there?" Kurt Wagner, Rogue's foster brother, tapped her head lightly with his knuckles.

Rogue had been staring into space for the good part of the period, not paying attention to her surroundings. She seemed focused though, and every once and awhile her face would twist into a grimace of some unreadable emotion. Even Kurt's gentle probing and the sound of her team mates howling at her to get up to bat had been useless to wake her up from whatever trance she was in.

"Rogue? Rogue? ROGUE!" Kurt shouted into her ear. Surprised, she jerked and her head bounced against the wall.

Holding her bruised head with gloved hands, Rogue glared at her brother. "What?"

"It's your turn, schwester." He replied, and held his hand out for her to take. She ignored it and stood herself, walking to bat. "Make me proud!" He called after her jokingly.

"Yeah." Holding the bat firmly, she willed the psyches to be quiet. And as they quieted, so did the team. Rogue remembered her surroundings. Ah, yes. Bases loaded. Down to the last inning. Final game of the season. No wonder the team had grown tense.

The pitcher grinned flirtatiously at her unaware Rogue was a mutant. He brought back the ball and hurled it with accuracy. Rogue swung.

"Strike one!" The umpire called out. Rogue's team groaned. The pale girl rolled her eyes. What difference did it make to her?

The pitched hurled the ball again. Rogue swung, followed closely with the crack of the bat. Everything exploded into noise.

"RUN!"

"GET THE BALL!"

"GO! GO! GO! GO!"

"THROW IT!"

"STUPID GIRL!"

"LET US OUT!"

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?"

"SHUT UP! STOP IT! STOP YELLING!"

It didn't take long for Rogue to realize it was her screaming aloud.

As Rogue shifted from her thoughts, and back to the parade, she suddenly realized Kitty was missing. Standing up to find her key to the hotel (and friend) and shaking her head from the humiliating memories, Rogue pushed through the seemingly endless crowd calling out in many languages.

Catching a flash of turquoise in the corner of her eye, Rogue turned only to find Kitty's head rapidly disappearing through the swarm. Attempting to get to Shadowcat before she completely vanished, Rogue shoved her way through the crowd and to her general direction.

"Hey!" Rogue heard someone shout at her while she passed. "What's y' prob'em, chienne?" Rogue turned back to the voice impatiently, with a glower she hoped to be even fiercer than her offenders.

"What's yo's?" She snapped back and turned away, intent on finding her roommate. But before she could lift her foot up, a thin hand grasped her shoulder firmly, halting her.

"I b'lieve, y' are, fille."

Rogue stopped and took several deep breaths before muttering angrily, "If yah know what's good fo' yah, yah'll let go and go on yo' merry way."

"I'm takin' t'reats from y', now, am I? Say y' s'rry first, an' I'll let y' go," the man said impudently.

"Me? I ain't sayin' sorry to some swamp rat like yahself! Now let go!" Rogue turned to him and knocked his hand away. She was greeted with a quick slap to her face, which caught her by surprise. She turned back to the man with "Yah asked fo' it!" and went for his hand that she had just brushed away, lifting him into the air with surprising force and bringing him down on the other side.

He wasted no time though, and fell to his feet, pulling her with the same arm that she held him with and taking the other. Her attacker held both of her arms behind her back, and she faced away from him. Rogue cried out as he twisted them.

"Say y'r s'rry an' y' can live, fille." He shouted to her. The crowd had split where they were and the drunken men and women began to chant "Fight! Fight! Fight!" all the while whooping and roaring with laughter. Even the police trying to barge their way in couldn't break the rolling mass of onlookers. "Well?" The man said expectantly.

"Yeah." Rogue ground out, "Sorry Ah evah had ta touch a sorry swamp rat such as yo'self," and swung her leg over to meet his side. He fell, dragging her down with him.

"I'll kill y' f'r tha', y' putain!" He wheezed.

"Sure yah will." she replied, tugging herself from his weakened grasp. She stood, eyeing his hand that was moving subtly to reach into his red blazer. "Now what are yah doin', sugah? Ah hope that's not a weapon yo're goin' for." She stepped on his stomach, effectively pinning his arm down and forcing the wind out of him at the same time. She considered absorbing him, but decided against it, unwilling to add another psyche to the growing number.

Rogue didn't want to deal with the man again, either, so she said with a smirk, "Sorry, swamp rat, but Ah think it's tahme yah have a nice rest, huh?" and silently thanked Logan for his hard trainings in the Danger Room, plus his personal trainings with her in martial arts. She squatted, hitting the side of her hand against his neck. The man's eyes rolled back, and Rogue stayed still for a few moments, to make sure he wouldn't "wake up" the second she stood.

The man, no longer a threat, wasn't too bad looking, although he had a certain greasiness about him that automatically made Rogue want to crinkle her nose. His brown hair was long enough to fall to his shoulders, and he had several earrings following down his left ear, and a small ring on his eyebrow. He appeared scraggly, with a damaged red blazer and dirty black pants.

Wanting nothing more to do with him, Rogue disappeared to resume her search for Kitty in the crowd that had turned back to the parade, having lost all interest in her and her fight.

One man amongst the crowd had not though, and continued to follow the retreating girl with interest. Never taking his eyes from her, he took a cell phone out of his dark blue jacket.

Dialing the number, he responded to the voice on the other line. "Père?" he asked, "I t'ink I've foun' someone y' would like t' meet."

What's this? Now who would seem so interested in Rogue? It's probably not who you think, though. Well, it might be. You'll just have to wait, huh?

I also understand not everyone can speak French or German. I personally have been taking the class for a while, therefore everything that you read is something that I personally know. So spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes are a given. But I will translate for you:

French Translations:

chienne: bitch; it means actually female dog, but so does "bitch" in English.

fille: girl

putain: whore

père: father

German Translations:

schwester: sister

Hallo: Hello

There. That's what they all mean.

Please review, it means a lot! I can only improve on this story through your critique!

Please take the time! Thanks!

E.V.A.N. B.