A series of short chapters all from Remy's POV. There will be five chapters total, and they'll be uploaded on Tuesdays.

This story won't necessarily be in chronological order, with one chapter taking place in the past (but that chapter will be marked). No big picture plot with this one, just slices of the life that Remy & Rogue share together.

This is a companion story to Flying South, this chapter in particularly is a companion to This is Halloween. It can be read independently, and I tried to fill in all importantly info if you haven't read those stories, but you should still read them because I wrote them :-D.

Despite the fact that not all chapters will have a M rating, I've chosen that rating because some chapters will.

Domestic Bliss

Chapter 1 - Pecan Pie

I stare down at the blueprints on my desk, committing them to memory. In a few days, they'll be all I have to go on. I let my eyes follow the lines, making mental note of every vent and every window. I don't plan on using either of them, but a good thief knows to be prepared for anything. I slouch slightly lower in my chair and flip to the next page. The electric system seems fairly standard, but I thoroughly review it anyway. I didn't get to where I am by being lazy.

If you're the best, you have to be the best, and that's exactly what I plan on doing.

I look over it for a minute more and flip to the next page, eying the infa-red detection system schematics that are starting to feel familiar to me. I've been reviewing this building and it's subsequent information for about six hours now. I'll give myself another two or three days and then I'll know them backwards, forwards, and blind.

I haven't told Rogue yet, that I'll be gone for a good four weeks sometime next month. I only found out yesterday, but it must have slipped my mind to mention it. She got home from work, and planned to change before dinner, but some how that all morphed into me following her up the stairs and taking her in the shower; Turning that tight little body around, pushing her breasts against the tile, and pounding into her from behind with little to no abandon.

Obviously, you could see why I forgot to mention it. I'm sure my sub-conscience was trying to deal with the fact that I'd be separated from her for the longest time we've been apart since moving in together. I guess on one hand, I like to have an excuse for why I pushed my fully clothed girlfriend into a wet shower, but on the other hand the way her shirt clung to her breasts, before I ripped it off of her, was pretty fantastic. I tell myself that I'm not a complete caveman, but it really seems that I have no self-control around her. I've tried not to think with my dick so much, but it's a fairly futile effort.

With a deep breath, I flip another page; letting fingers dance over the thin engineer paper and the follow the path my mind is taking.

I'm interrupted by a knock at my door.

I'm slightly curious as who it would be. I've made sure we have no neighbors, and as Rogue's friends wouldn't really stop by while she's at work, it's a short list for the unannounced visitor.

I roll up the papers I've been reviewing and tuck them out of sight. Standing, I smooth out my thin white tank top over my chest. It's thin enough that I should be wearing it under something, but what do I care when I'm in my own home? It matches fine with my dark jeans, and frankly, I don't really care.

I roll my neck, hearing a few audible pops, and stretch my arms over my head as I walk to the door, feeling stiff from one position in my desk chair for far too many hours.

Walking through the foyer, I curse to myself as my bare feet trip over a forgotten socket wrench. Why on earth would a socket wrench be laying on our wood floors in the foyer instead of, say, a garage workshop? I'm starting to think the answer is: Because I live with a tornado. I open the door.

I'm not going to say I'm surprised, because I knew it would happen eventually, but I didn't expect to see Felecia Hardy today. Halloween was only a few weeks ago, and I typically only see her a handful of times a year. Sure, we've done business together quite a few times, but Felicia is what you would call "small potatoes" compared to me. (But not compared to Lapin, which is why he always tries to do jobs with her. I think she hasn't quite realized that he's been calling them dates and bragging that the two of the have been going out. Far be it from me to ruin the illusion.)

Her hair is blonde today and she's dressed in a hot pink cardigan, with a black mini skirt, (at least she left the cat suit at home). Of course, only the top four buttons of her cardigan are undone, showing off a bit off her cleavage (with the edges of her white satin bra subtly peaking out, no less).

"Remy," she gives me a smile and a nod, and tilts her head to the side.

I lean forward and oblige, kissing her on the cheek while she kisses the air next to mine.

"Entrez," I gesture into our foyer with my opposite hand.

She's smiling wide as she shoves the dish that was in her hands into mine and chirps, "Happy housewarming!"

I didn't even notice she was carting something, but that is definitely a pie plate.

She gives me that impish smile I used to be so familiar with, and drags her fingers along my chest as she walks past my body to enter.

"Yo made me a pie?" And by the looks of it, a pecan pie. No complaints there.

She shrugs, "You know that baking helps me think."

I pull up the lid on the dish and get a whiff of fresh baked goods. "Yo were tinking 'bout me?"

"Remy," she shakes her head a bit and answers me with a laugh, "I've been thinking about you since Halloween."

She looks around, noting the mocha stained wood floors and the green painted walls. My decorator did a great job when I bought the place. Well, obviously, I did a great job at describing what a wanted. I believe it was something similar to, "Relaxing and sophisticated, but made for someone with the grace of a linebacker and attention span of a toddler."

What? Can you blame me? I know Rogue, and if I was having a house built for both of us, I knew it needed solid construction, and very solid furniture. She looks so small and harmless, but the woman gets so wrapped up in what she's doing that she doesn't pay attention to anything else. Sure, it's great when she's letting me nail her on the kitchen table, but it's not so great when she gets distracted from putting her stuff away to go work in the garage (hence the discarded tools randomly throughout the house).

I follow Felicia as she walks through the foyer and further into the house, her eyes taking in everything.

"An' here I tought yo' were jus visitin' me, not casing de joint."

Her head turns so that I can see her roll her eyes, even though there's a smile on her face, "Remy, it's a beautiful house."

"Dat it is," I agree with a nod because it's certainly true.

When I had the place built, I knew it had to be someplace I could see myself living. You all don't know this, but I'm not a big fan of putting down roots. Roots mean being connected. That's a big pill to swallow, ladies and gents.

Sure I had (have?) a condo in the city, but I've always done a lot of work in New York, and had long term contracts there, so it made sense. Rogue spent a lot of time there, a few years back, when she was discovering herself and this Cajun was more than happy to help her do so.

I wasn't planning on settling in New York. Sure, I'm still young and there's still time, but I figured the first roots I'd put down would be in Milan or Malta or Tokyo. Just somewhere a bit more grandiose and unexpected than the outskirts of NYC.

Things change.

Rogue has family here, and responsibilities. She has everything. I doubt that she'd run away with me with just the promise of sex. Now she doesn't have to run and we can still build the relationship between us.

I look back on how it all started, and it's no surprise that I'm in love with her. I mean, when a sexy little super hero with a deadly touch calls you up and says she wants it and she wants you to be the one to give it to her? Hard to resist.

Of course, we were on and off for years. I moved on, slept with other women, but it's worth saying that most other tits I came in contact with, I wished they were hers.

She shows up in New Orleans last Christmas. She was on vacation and as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

We spent one night together and I wasn't ready to give it up. I hired some architect two days later. Told him I needed a house and I needed it to be perfect. Trust me, when you're willing to pay anything, contractors will jump at a project.

I know what you're thinking, that a see the girl once after a year a half and I buy a house? A little ridiculous, I know, but I wasn't about to lose the best sex I'd ever had.

And sex like that means something.

So I showed up two months later: Took a job beneath my pay grade so I could be in town, rented the tackiest five star room I could find because I knew she'd simultaneously love and hate it. The rest of the night was simple: worship her body until she couldn't say no.

All the ingredients to domestic bliss.

She's just…

She's everything.

My mind drifts back to Felicia. She's a bit elusive, but we're friends, were once lovers, and I care about her.

Her fingers tips dance around the frame of the French doors that are currently open and lead into my office. She glances at the leather chair and my spotless desk, "And here I pictured you working on the couch."

"Y'know, Felicia, I'm not as lazy as yo seem to remember."

She shrugs impishly, "Your house was easy to find."

I roll my eyes, "O' course it was. If I didn't want people to find it, den dey wouldn't be able to."

Which is true. I live with a woman who has a lot of family that care about her, and is also looking for a normal life. I wasn't going to take that life away from her, wasn't going to ask her to disappear. It meant I couldn't be a ghost either, meant I had to put my name to something, had to do it honestly, but it's worth it.

Stepping closer to my guest, I place a hand on the small of her back and subtly guide her into the kitchen.

She looks around, interested, and settles in a chair at the kitchen table. I set her dish on the far end before grabbing silverware and two plates.

I sit down at the seat diagonal from hers as she passes me a generous slice a pie, and cuts herself a smaller one.

"Remy." She says my name, staring directly at me, before I can even pick up my fork.

Felicia Hardy is a wonderful person, but not one to waste any time. I knew that she had to be here for something.

"Oui?" I lift an eyebrow and tilt my head in her direction, but I don't let it stop me from the slice in front of me. I bring a bit of pie up to my mouth as she continues.

"The Halloween party?"

I nod in acknowledgement as I chew.

"I know who your girlfriend is." She says it as if it's supposed to mean something. I can see it in the tension over the bridge of her nose and the pull at the sides of her mouth.

I'm most surprised she knows. Miss Hardy is connected to networks outside the Guild.

She may work in tandem with us, and occasionally for us, but she isn't Guild, isn't family. She's not tied to the same oaths and the same honesty. There is always honor among thieves, but she hasn't swore into it with her blood.

"I'm not going to pass the word around."

I know her, and I can hear the conviction in her voice. It's why I'm okay with her knowing.

I'm not ashamed of Rogue moonlighting as a super hero. In fact, I'm damn proud of the girl and all she can do. I just like the idea of avoiding unnecessary trouble with my coworkers.

"I know yo' wouldn' say anythin', Hardy, but dat makes me wonder why yo came all de way here jus to say something dat I all ready know."

"Remy," she sighs as the edges of her lips dip slightly into a frown, "Don't date the hero."

She looks so concerned that I hold back my immediate response. Her wide eyes betray her worry and it's really kind of sweet.

"You know my history," her head shakes sardonically, "and you've seen me embarrass myself over a relationship that didn't work out more times than I can count."

"Felicia," I set my fork down momentarily, "I 'ppreciate yo concern, I really do, but -"

She cuts me off with a shake of her head, "Anna seems wonderful, she really does, and it's very obvious that she cares about you. But it's not that easy. You can set up shop and play house, but it's going to get harder, Remy. Things are going to happen and people are going to try and tear you apart."

She ends with a sigh and I can hear some sadness in her voice. I thought she got over Peter months ago, but I guess she has a better poker face than I give her credit for.

I'm not sure what to say to that, especially when she's being so open, but it makes sense to be honest. I will never let anyone tear Rogue and I apart. "She's worth it though. I won't give her up, even if dat does happen."

"Remy," she sighs and sets down her fork as well, "You're in love with her. It's written all across your face, and I want you to be happy. It's just, I'd hate to imagine you stuck with you family on one side and your lover on the other."

The idea of my family on one side and my lover's on another is a surprisingly familiar concept to me. Rolling my eyes is my knee jerk reaction, but I avoid it. The Black Cat has no idea about the life I grew up with, and I have no desire to be rude to someone who has always had my back.

"Felicia," I take a moment to gather my words, wanting to get them right, "Tank yo, really, and I understand where yo coming from, but dis girl? I'm not gonna let her go. I'm gonna do my best to shield her from that part o' my life. But if she wants to be de super hero? Den dat's what she gets. She deserves everyting she wants, and I'm gonna be dere for all o' dat."

Her face looks thoughtful, but she accepts my words, "Things will get harder."

"I know."

Which I do. I didn't think that loving Rogue was going to be easy, not with the opposite lives we live, but I can't think of a single thing more worth it.

She reaches out, and places her hand over mine, resting on the surface of the kitchen table, and squeezes gently. She gives me a small smile, "I just care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt."

I hold her hand tightly, while using my opposite one to bring my fork back up to my mouth. Her pie really is delicious.

She gives me a tight smile, but I can still see the worry in her eyes.

"I know, Hardy, I know," I nod, "But it'll be okay. Yo don' have to worry bout me."

Sitting at the kitchen table with Felicia feels like a bit of a world's colliding moment, as the last time I was alone with her was ages ago, before I bought this house, before I knew that I could have Rogue. It's a companionable silence that we share, and I appreciate her as a colleague and, more importantly, a friend.

It's at that moment that I hear the side door open, and the woman in question steps in to the kitchen.

"Swamp Rat, I'm home!" Rogue calls out as she enters, not realizing that there's no need to shout. The side door leads from the garage right into the edge of the kitchen and we're seated at the table, only a few yards away. "Hey, whose car is outside?"

My eyes are drawn to her as she kicks the door closed with her foot, heavy boots still on her feet. She's wearing her favorite pair of leather motorcycle pants, and her leather jacket is haphazardly hanging off of one arm, the other arm all ready out.

I watch as she turns to see us, her eyes immediately focus on our clasped hands. Her eyes narrow slightly, and I can see a touch of anger there.

"Felicia?" She looks a bit confused as my friend releases my hand, "From the Halloween party?"

I can tell that my lover is about to say something else; I can see her lips pull pack slighty, and the tension across her forehead. Her eyes are still slightly narrowed, and her mouth dips into a bit of a frown.

And then, as quickly as the tension appeared, it dissolves. Her eyes widen as the lock onto the pie plate at the far end of the table. Her mouth turns into a wide smile and I can see her eyes glitter with excitement, "Oooooh, and what is this?"

"Felicia," I nod in her direction, "Brought over pecan pie."

"Well look at that," Rogue is all ready at the kitchen cabinet removing a plate. She looks at our guests and directs the next question to her, "Do yah mind?"

"Of course not," Felicia shakes her head, but it seems like a bit of a formality, seeing as Rogue all ready brought the knife to the pie before she answered.

I watch as Rogue cuts herself a surprisingly small piece and places it on the plate she had just pulled out. Mover lover has the biggest sweet tooth I've ever seen, and it surprises me to see her with such an average sized piece.

She waltzes over to me, and places a kiss on top of my messy hair, "Swamp rat, Ah'm gonna go upstairs to change." She directs her attention to our guest, and grins at her. Literally, she's full on beaming, "Felicia, so nice to see you again! Come by any time."

Obviously, all traces of resentment are gone. Hey, the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach, right? Especially with home made baked goods.

Catching me off guard, although I'm starting to think I should've have expected it, Rogue leaves the her small piece of pie on the table, and lifts up the nearly full pie tin, and proceeds to carry it upstairs with her.

My eyes are glued to her finely shaped backside as she exits the room.

I turn back to Felicia and nod once more, a smile tugging at the edge of my lips, "She's worth it."

See! All you This is Halloween readers, Felicia wasn't exactly jealous! She was just worried! How sweet!

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