Author Note(s): Written while listening to Dark Waltz by Hayley Westerna.
This is extreme fluff. It's staying a oneshot darnit. I will not be persuaded!
I don't own Wolverine and the X-Men.
Sometimes it was nice to get away from the X-Men business. Which was exactly why she was in New Orleans on New Years Eve. An old friend of hers had invited her down to attend a ball held by one of the families of New Orleans. Her friend was actually dating one of the sons. They had gotten separated and Rogue remained a wallflower, despite the many invitations to dance.
She wore a dark green dress that was long sleeved but low cut, revealing a small amount of cleavage. She wore black gloves to match the black necklace around her neck. Her hair was down in curls and seemed to bounce in waves every time she moved. She was the untouchable belle of the ball.
Now, there was someone else there who had one reason to come but found a more entrancing item than some petty jewels. He made his way silently through the crowd. He moved to tap her on the shoulder but got a surprise.
"Can Ah help ya?" She asked without looking at him. He smirked, amused immensely. She knew he had been on the move.
"Excusez-moi mademoiselle," he said. "But I was merely wondering why a belle femme like you is stayin' 'long the wall?" The woman turned to the man and was captured by beautiful ruby red on onyx eyes. The man was captured by her own emerald of eyes. The woman looked down nervously, avoiding eye contact.
"Well, y'see, Ah," she stuttered. Why was she stuttering?! She was shocked when the man with brown, slicked back hair took her hand in his own white gloved one and gently kissed her knuckles.
"Non, chéri don't hafta explain," he said. "Because dis Cajun be happy she stay 'way from the other men." The woman looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh?" She asked. "And who may be 'dis Cajun?'" He gave her a dashing smirk, enjoying that fire.
"He be Remy LeBeau," the man told her. "Et vous?"
"Anna Marie," the woman said after a moment of hesitation.
"C'est un beau nom pour une femme comme vous," Remy said in a low, husky voice. "We don' have to dance, cher. Let's just talk." He led her to a balcony, the cool night air refreshing to the face. "So, where ya from?"
"Well, Ah was born in Mississippi," Anna told him as she leaned against the rail and looked at the stars. "Now Ah live up north."
"Merde, dat must be torture," Remy commented, leaning beside her but not looking at the stars. More so skin as fair as snow and a sharply elegant face. She laughed and Remy knew that he liked the fire and the laugh. It rang out like crystal bells over a valley that had just awoken into spring.
After talking a bit more, they soon found themselves gazing into each others eyes. Remy was relieved that she wasn't frightened by them. He leaned closer to her and then. he heard a slow waltz come on and gently took her hand. She looked at him, surprised.
"Dis Cajun will show cher how to waltz," he informed her, leading her away from the railing and taking her into his arms gently. He slowly began to lead her and she was a quick learner. They soon were perfectly in sync, spinning in the night air. In their own private fairy tale. As Anna twirled out, she laughed as Remy pulled her back to him. The continued to dance and as the song came to an end, they froze and stared into each others eyes. Remy held her closer and began to lean in. Screw jewels and the guild. He had the perfect pair of emeralds right here in the most beautiful and wonderful woman he had ever met. She seemed to be leaning closer to him but suddenly turned away.
"Cher, what's wrong?" Remy asked, feeling a little hurt.
"Remy, Ah-Ah'm a mutant," she said, barely above a whisper.
"And so be I," Gambit said, turning her face back to his.
"But, mah mutation," Anna continued. "Ah-Ah can't touch people. Skin ta skin."
"Den we won' touch skin to skin," Remy told her, pulling out his handkerchief. He gently placed it on top of her lips and pressed with his own. Anna slowly wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. The clock struck twelve as they continued.
Remy was a ladies' man and he liked sex, but this was better than anything else. Suddenly, an annoying beeping sounded, causing the two to break apart. Out of Lord knows where, Anna pulled out a communicator. Remy scrunched his brows, examining it.
"Yeah, Logan?!" She asked harshly, obviously annoyed.
"Stripes, we got an issue," a gruff voice said. Remy recognized it. "Hank's comin' to get you."
"Fahne," Anna said with a scowl, putting the communicator away. She looked at Remy with sad eyes. "Ah'm sorry, Remy. Ah gotta go." With that, she turned and fled the party but a small smile was on her face as she remembered the "kiss." He hadn't been scared, he had just thought of a new way to kiss her. She hoped that maybe, just maybe they'd meet again. Then, she realized who he was. By his file at the Institute. He was Gambit.
Remy, on the other hand, was coming to his own conclusions. That communicator was X-Men. That had been Wolverine she had been speaking to. And her mutation...The files he had read on the X-Men. She was Rogue. He looked down at the handkerchief that had the imprint of her lipstick and gently slid it into his pocket. At that moment, the thief Gambit smirked. He knew exactly what he was going to do now.