X-Men Evolution

Chapter 3

It was a Sunday morning, which meant that everybody, excluding Logan, woke up several hours after their alarm clocks went off, and slowly made their way into the kitchen. Kitty yawned widely as she found her seat at the table and punched Kurt lightly when he tried to budge her off. "Watch it, Kurt," she mumbled. The fuzzy boy shrugged and 'ported into a nearby chair, where he grabbed a box of cereal and poured some into a bowl.

Whilst everyone else seemed to be still half asleep, Rogue was the only one with a smile on her face. Which may or may not have had something to do with the present she had found on her dresser from the Cajun Casanova himself.

It was a pendant, which was simple, but elegant. A shiny emerald (Rogue checked, and it appeared to be real) fixed onto the necklace with a web of thin silver strands. It was easily the most beautiful piece of jewelry she had ever seen.

The note which it came with made her smile.

Dear Rogue,

Bought with hard-earned money, not stolen. Thought you'd appreciate it more that way.

From your homme with everlasting love,

Remy

Rogue had blushed when she read the last part, and quickly hidden the note. But she did wear the pendant, and it felt snug and right where it was around her neck. Trust Remy LeBeau to know her size.

The southern girl saw that Kitty was staring at her, and then realised she was unconsciously fiddling with the necklace. Quickly, Rogue hid the pendant from view and glared at her.

"What?" Rogue asked. "Ya got a problem?"

The valley girl merely smiled back knowingly and continued to eat her breakfast, leaving Rogue mentally grumbling at how she was getting too easy to read.

Everyone shifted when Logan came in scowling and deposited a a large hunk of metal on the table. It was warped and scorched, as if something had exploded in it.

"Ya care ta explain, Stripes?" he growled.

Rogue inwardly groaned. Was the Cajun trying to deliberately aggravate the Wolverine? "Dunno. How should Ah know bettah than anybody else?"

"Because they're not the one whose got a damn Cajun mongrel chasing after them-"

Before Logan could finish, Rogue got up and, drawing her hand back, slapped him hard in the face with a sharp crack. He stared back in disbelief, as did everyone else in the room. There was an extremely uncomfortable feeling in the room.

"Don't ya call him a mongrel," she breathed out heavily. "Evah. Again. Ya understand?" Logan nodded, bewildered, and stepped aside to let the southern girl pass him and quickly exit the kitchen. Everybody stared at one another with confusion, not entirely sure at what just happened.

What had she done?

Her mind had gone blank the moment she heard Logan slandering Remy, and had only really restarted immediately after she dealt him the mother of all slaps.

Rogue was horrified. She had lost control completely and assaulted a man who she had grown to think of as a father, which, on both counts, did not count as good in any way. She shot a look at the photo of Remy on her phone.

Oh dear. She was in trouble.

And not the kind of trouble you could solve by waiting and wishing, but the kind of trouble which would bite you on the ass if you did. She needed to sort out the Remy LeBeau situation as soon as possible before anybody did anything stupid and, knowing both Logan and Remy, that would involve a large amount of explosions and slicing.

Rogue grabbed her coat and hurried out to the garage, "borrowing" Scott's car keys along the way, and drove off before anyone noticed that she was gone. She was at the mall before she realised one thing.

She had absolutely no idea where to find the Cajun.

But she did know that even if she wasn't going to find him, he most certainly would find her. And so Rogue waited patiently for Remy LeBeau to show up.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Two hours later Rogue huffed loudly. Whenever she didn't want him to be around, he would be there without fail, and now that she actually did want to meet him, he was nowhere to be seen. Damn Cajun.

She was about to put the car into reverse when there was a soft thump in the passenger seats behind her and a whiff of spices drifted into her nostrils. She almost smiled, and then schooled her features into a frown as she turned to face him.

"Where in tha blazes have ya been, Swamp Rat!" Rogue snapped. "Ya have any ahdea how Ah've been waiting' for ya?"

"Deux heures, trois minutes et une seconde, e-xac-te-ment," came the smart-ass reply. "Wasn' dat long, chère, y' got t' have some patience - after all, dey do say it is a virtue, non?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha." The southern girl glared at him. "We need ta talk."

"Remy's a little confus'd, chère," the ex-Acolyte answered, the smirk on his face indicating quite the opposite. "He t'ought we were pas' de talkin' stage."

"Tha wit ahnd humah." Rogue clapped sarcastically, and Remy bowed in an over-exaggerated manner. "Quit it, Cajun, Ah'm serious. We. Need. Ta. Talk." Sensing the seriousness in her tone, Remy shut his mouth and nodded. "Good." She punched him on the arm moderately hard.

"Oww!" Remy shouted. "Y' said talkin'! Wha' y' punchin' Remy for?"

"That," the southern girl jabbed him in the shoulder with a finger, "is for being a jackass! Blowin' up tha lock on the gates! Why are ya deliberately tryin' to piss Logan off!"

"It's fun!" protested the Cajun, only to be punched again. "Oww!"

"It is naht!" Rogue hissed, frowning deeply. "It is naht fun for meh when Ah have ta slap somebody in tha face just ta stand up for ya pathetic, cowardly behahnd."

"Y' slappin' people for Remy?" The Cajun beamed happily. "Aww, chère, Remy don' know wha' t' say."

"How 'bout apologisin' ta me? Ah'm pretty sure Ah'm tha victim in this." Rogue sighed, her gaze shifting from Remy to the steering wheel in front of her. "Remy, Ah need ta know. Do ya… do ya… ya know?"

Remy detected an air of uncertainty in her voice and was momentarily stunned. She was unsure of herself. That felt a little weird… but strangely attractive. He leaned in towards his southern belle, who was fidgeting nervously with her hands.

"Rogue," he breathed out softly over her neck, noting with a great deal of satisfaction that it made her shiver (in delight, he thought, but she'd never admit it later). "Y' know how I feel 'bout y'. I've never felt dis way before. Y'… y're my own true darlin'. Y're my chère." He lifted her chin gently with a covered part of his hand, bringing her gaze to his, and smiled brightly. "Je t'aime, Rogue, je t'aime."

Her heart was beating so quickly she could hear it pounding in her ears, and her head was starting to hurt. Oh gawd. He- he loves meh? Oh gawd! He loves meh! Remy LeBeau loves meh! Wait! Do Ah love him back! Yes- no, Ah don- wait, yes- dear lord, why can't Ah think!

"Rogue? Rogue? Dis is Houston, y' readin' me?"

"Remy, Ah," the southern girl drew in a deep breath, "love ya too. Really."

Remy LeBeau was in heaven. At the pearly gates, and maybe stealing the keys from St. Peter's belt (old habits die hard). His grin grew wider and wider, as did his eyes, until Rgoue punched him again. "Yeow! Why!"

The southern girl shrugged. "Yah face was lookin' weird."

The Cajun stared speechlessly at her for a moment, until words came rolling out again. "Y're one unpredictable femme, chère. But Remy t'inks he likes it." He reached forward and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes and carefully behind her ear. "So we're datin' now?"

The southern girl gave him a shy but happy smile. "Ah guess." She started when she remembered a very important detail, which had somehow managed to slip her mind. "But what ahbout mah mutation!"

"It don' change nothin', chère. Remy don' care if he can' touch y'. He jus' want t' be wit' y'." Remy grinned. "Now, how about dis humble Cajun take y' someplace nice?"

"Ah'd better naht wake up in a train carriage ahgain, Swamp Rat," the southern girl warned playfully. "Ah don't appreciate bein' bound and gagged- NO JOKES ABOUT WHAT AH JUST SAID!" She stared death at her new boyfriend, who merely looked back with an innocent face.

"Don' know wha' y're talkin' 'bout, Roguey."

"Don't call meh Roguey."

"Wha'ver y' say, Roguey."

Punch.

"Yeow! Watch it wit' de arm! De arm, woman!"