This is my first fanfic, so I'm still trying to figure out the best way to format, submit entries, etc. As mentioned in the summary, this story assumes that "X-Men: The End" represents the future for the characters. Remy and Rogue have been married, and are currently raising theireldest son Olivier.I'm not going to attempt to explain away any character changes in current X-Men story arc.

Disclaimer: The characters are copyright and owned by Marvel Comics.

"An' yer sure she said she wants both of us dere?"

Remy LeBeau stood on the balls of his feet in a vain effort to catch a glimpse of himself in the tiny mirror atop his dresser, struggling to put on his indigo necktie. On his fourth attempt, he had accidentally loosened the tie too much, and any semblance of a knot completely fell apart.

From inside the connecting bathroom, the voice of his wife casually responded, "Ah think that'd be best, Remy."

Breathing a sign of exasperation, he set out to try again. "But why we gotta dress-up, chere? Y'know I hate dressin' up all fancy like dis. It makes me feel like… well…" He paused for a moment to try to think of an appropriate comparison which could most accurately personify the pretentiousness and priggishness he associated with the façade he was being asked to put on. "I feel like Scottie."

What sounded like a muffled snort eked out of the open bathroom door. Anna finally emerged from the bathroom, her head tilted to the side as she worked to affix a silver hoop in her left ear, the final accessory of her now complete outfit. "Y'know, there're worse men to compare y'self to than Scott Summers, Mr. LeBeau."

Remy was on the verge of coming up with a snarky comeback before he caught a glimpse of his wife standing before him, trying not to look like she was intentionally pausing for a pose. Not that it would have mattered. From top to bottom, her hair was neatly swept up in an elegant bun with a couple white ringlets framing her face. In addition to the tiny silver hoops, she wore a black drop necklace that plunged just low enough to maintain modesty. Although her outfit was relatively simple –a white silk blouse with a black knee length skirt—she dressed it up with a dark grey vest that was all too reminiscent of a corset. Finally a pair of pumps gave the illusion of length to her already lithe legs.

Remy let out a shrill whistle of approval for his wife, the model of sexy professional, seductive elegance. "Chere…. you…."

"Emma helped me pick it out." She cut him off she strode over to fix his tie, and continued talking while tying. "Y'know, fer all the crap you give Scott, y'gotta hand it to 'im. He always gets the hot women. In particular, seems ta have a telepathic fetish. There're some things that Emma wanted me to try on that'd make Betsy blush."

Remy couldn't help but grin wolfishly, even though she couldn't see as she was focused on his chest. With one last tug, she straightened his tie and brushed off his shoulders. "There." At last, she peered up and was able to return the leer he was giving her with a mischievous smirk and a slightly suggestive look. "Now you don't look half bad either." With the heels, she didn't have to reach very high in order to give him a quick peck on the lips, masterfully preserving her lipstick. Wrapping both arms in his, she turned herself so both of their reflections were visible in the mirror. She looked very comfortable snuggling the side of her face into his shoulder, but Remy looked nothing short of in pain. Although the dress shirt flattered his broad shoulders and wiry body, he looked incredibly stiff.

Perhaps the strangest part was looking at his face. As the self-proclaimed Prince of Thieves, Remy was not a stranger to acting and disguises, but something about the face staring back at him looked unfamiliar. For one thing, his lingering stubble was gone, leaving his chin clean-shaven and smooth. Even more drastic was the haircut Anna insisted that he get before this meeting. Although he would never admit to being so vain, Remy had always been proud of the long unkempt mess of brown hair-- he thought it made him look "rugged." Now it was gone. He wouldn't let the barber completely crop it all off, but the bangs that would typically have fallen to the sides of his face were now stylishly slicked back. Noticing her husband's apprehension, Anna quickly added, "Ah think ya look very handsome."

"I look ridiculous. I feel like I should be in a board meeting with Warren, discussin' buying out a small locally-owned business so we can erect a monolithic corporation that enslaves small Polynesian children, instead."

Anna playfully slapped his shoulder as she tried to stifle another laugh. "C'mon now, it ain't all that bad. Ah jus' wanna make a good impression with the staff is all."

"Anna," Remy looked at his wife in earnest, "Seriously… y'know I don' wanna do dis. I swear, dat place and dose people… seems more like a country club den a pre-school."

For a brief moment, Anna looked down at her feet, her teeth pressed into her lower lip. "Ah… Ah know, Remy." She held his hands as she looked back up at him, her emerald green eyes begging him imploringly. "But ya remember what we said when we first had Oli. Nothin' but the best fer our son."

Remy guiltily lowered his eyes, knowing that he could never win an argument, not with those damned eyes staring at him. "Yah… I 'member."

Gaining confidence, Anna began reciting the speech which had obviously been used in countless arguments before, "And Cutter Academy is the best pre-school in New England. By kindergarten, the kids're already s'posed to be at a third grade reading level, an' can do their basic math…"

"Alright, ALRIGHT. You win." Anna grinned in feigned victory, part of the reason she loved her husband so much was because he made it so easy to win. "We'll go… but don' get to excited. My experience is dat when a teacher requests a parental conference, it's not gonna be for anythin' good."

"Well…" Remy's ears perked up when the tone of Anna's voice suddenly went from pleadingly whiny to husky and breathy. As she slowly slid her hand into his pants pocket and withdrew a pair of sunglasses, he momentarily felt something else perk up. She continued slowly while unfolding the handles of the glasses, "If Olivier's been a bad boy, we'll just haveta ground him, won't we?" She leaned in close to his face to slide the glasses over the ridge of his nose, "But if his daddy's been bad..." She breathily whispered that last directly into his ear before biting his earlobe gently.

Remy exhaled sharply while suppressing a moan. "Merde, woman, now you juss causin' trouble. So let's just get dis over with… de sooner I'm outt've dis stupid outfit, de better."

Anna couldn't help but feel a little satisfied with herself, but she obliged by repositioning herself in front of the mirror, wrapping her hand in the crook of Remy's arm and clearing her throat. When she opened her mouth again, her trademark milk and magnolias accent had been reduced to the slightest Southern lilt, barely noticeable unless you were listening for it. She grinned broadly and spoke into the mirror "Thank you for seeing us Ms. Dufrane. I don't believe you've met my husband yet, Mr. Remy LeBeau."

Remy let out an exasperated breath and even behind the sunglasses, it was obvious that he was rolling his eyes. Anna never stopped smiling into the mirror, but the grip she had on his arm steadily tightened, her nails digging into the thin fabric of his shirt. Reluctantly, Remy rolled off the elaborate story that they'd rehearsed earlier. Although he managed to tone down the Cajun accent, he never had the need to practice a neutral accent as Rogue did, so the result was some bizarre fusion of new aristocratic French-cum-midwestern American. "Mademoiselle … I'm so glad to finally meet you. I'm Olivier's father, Remy. I graduated from Le Academie Parisienne, and I'm currently the head've an… auction house in New Orleans." As if admitting that he went to a French school wasn't enough, he could barely slog through the auction house bit. But it was the best thing the two of them could come up with as not to feel as if they were completely lying.

Seeing her husband's misery, Anna relaxed and let herself speak freely. "Alright… we can go now." Looking at him sincerely, she said, "Ah really appreciate this, Remy." And seeing that the gratitude seemed to be a very cold comfort, she tugged playfully on his sleeve and whispered, "An' when we get back, ah'll be more'n happyto help ya get outt've that outfit." She turned around and walked towards the front door, grinning inwardly to herself as she knew he was leering lustily behind her.

A/N: This chapter was meant to be an introduction, but there was more exposition than I originally planned for. For this reason, I've gone ahead and published the first three chapters, just to get an idea of what everybody thinks.Reviews will be greatly appreciated. If I continue, I can promise more action, drama, humor, and character appearances in the very near future.