Disclaimer: (going really creative this time) I don't own the X-men.

Three challenges down, one to go. Yeehaw! I've 'gone country' in the worst way because of this fic. Throughout the Christmas Season, my family had to cope with hearing Whiskey Girl and Sweet Southern Comfort over and over again so I could get the timing right in the chase scene.

The title of this chapter is a song by the Dixie Chicks.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You keep this story alive more than my own nimble fingers. There were a few comments made that I will try to address within the story. Criticism is always welcome! In fact, I encourage it!

Cowboy, Take Me Away

The sub-basement of the Xavier Institute was state of the art in all senses of the word. Fire and bomb resistant. Adamantium-laced walls. Cyclical air-conditioners which could filter oxygen through the rooms for over a month for up to 50 people should the facility be shut off from the rest of the world during an emergency. It housed a garage for a variety of cars, motorcycles- even helicopters and jets. A med bay, comparable to any top hospital in the country. Not to mention the Danger Room and Cerebro. The halls, an endless array of shiny metal, though indisputably impressive, was not very ...as many X-men often noted... comforting. No paintings of wild flowers adorned the walls, no decorative plants on wooden tables in the corner, no plush chairs or rugs. Indeed, no colour whatsoever. The only accessories the sub-basement had to offer were rows of glass tubing, which displayed the official X-men uniforms. Imposing black leather, identical save for the slight alterations for each member: Storm's cape, Cyclops' visor, the holes for Woverine's claws, Nightcrawler's...odd body shape. As one would enter the main hall through a small elevator, these uniforms were the first things he would see.

However, one tube was empty; the highlight shut off, casting a gloomy shadow within. This is where Scott sat, weeping silently. His back pressed against the cold glass; his head resting against his knees, covered by his folded arms. He whispered continuously, harsh and softly, "Jean...oh Jean!...my love, I'm so sorry!"

The doors to Cerebro began to open with a long sound of suctioned air being released. Scott started and scrambled clumsily to his feet, scrubbing his cheeks harshly and wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, which were already damp from fallen tears. The Professor's wheelchair made no noise against the metal flooring as it rolled out into the hallway. Scott approached, the muscles in his jaw flexing visibly.

"Did you find her?" Scott asked without preamble, his voice strained.

The Professor noted the roughness to his voice and the red blotches in his cheeks, but knew better than to remark upon the boy's obvious pain. He knew sympathetic condolences were not welcomed. "No," he replied softly. "I can find no trace of her. I suspect Rogue's kidnapper may be a mutant himself: one with impressive mental shields, which would block any readings from Cerebro. If these shields are strong enough, they could easily incorporate any mutants around him, effectively hiding them as well. That is the only reason I can think of to explain Rogue's sudden disappearance from the map."

Scott thought for a moment, testing the theory out in his mind. "But Professor, wouldn't the same thing happen if Rogue was..." he stopped, unable to voice his fears.

Xavier's eyes were hard as they met Scott's. "I refuse to accept that as an option."

It was well past six o'clock when the Civic entered the city limits once more. The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the millions of artificial stars caused by the reflections of distant windows and street lamps to light the world. It had been over an hour since they had last seen a cop. Remy had driven through residential streets, laughing at the neighborhood dogs who tried to chase their bumper as well as cruised through different business districts where he would then imitate the local businessmen passing by. The entertainment was priceless, Rogue thought, as she once again snorted coke out through her nose while trying to contain her laughter. Shortly after leaving the city, Remy had stopped at a McDonald's to buy them dinner.

"Y better slow down w'dat cheeseburger, chere. Don' wanna get sick in dis beau'ful, new..." His voice lowered forlornly, "Honda...now do ya?"

"Oh, will ya quit it? We were not gonna take that Ferrari on a car chase with the law after our butts! That woulda been suicide!"

"It drives real good, fille, reeeal good."

"Not when the cops can trace us anywhere we go! I mean, how conspicuous can ya get? How we supposed ta hide while drivin' a red male orgasm with bigpapa written on the vanity plate?"

"Dey do it in de comic books all de time."

"Remy, hate to tell ya this, but we ain't in no comic book."

"Sure 'bout dat, p'tite?" He looked over at her, his eyebrows wagging teasingly over his shades.

"Well, the last time Ah tried, Ah couldn't fly, and Ah sure as hell ain't invincible, so forgive me if Ah'm a bit skeptical."

Remy chuckled, gazing out over the horizon of skyscrapers. Ahead, a police car sped into view, its lights blaring harshly against the darkness. Remy's right hand hovered over the stick between them, ready to shift into a higher gear. Both heaved heavy sighs of relief as the car zoomed past them and disappeared into the night. "So...where y' live, chere?"

Rogue automatically tensed up. This can't be a good sign. Is he gonna put me up for ransom, or does he just need to know where to send the severed body parts?

Remy caught her reaction and added, "Can' drop y' home if I don' know where t'go."

"...Oh..." Rogue thought about the mansion. The kind Professor and all her helpful teachers. Her friends. Logan. She opened her mouth to give the address but stopped when the sudden, familiar wave of despair hit her. Did she really want to go back there? Surrounded day and night by people who treated her like glass?...or perhaps more like a pet cobra, she added mentally, remembering the flinches she got from people if she got too close, or the consistent looks of sympathy that failed to mask a deeper anxiety she could read in their eyes. But...they were good people, with a good dream. She should feel blessed being a part of it all. She should be grateful...but she wasn't. She wasn't grateful or thankful or happy. She struggled every morning just to get out of bed. She sat in her classes, staring out of the window and wished she was far away, swimming with the dolphins at Seaworld or driving a motorcycle through a ring of fire down in Texas. She felt suffocated with the X-men – Hell, she felt suffocated with the entire world! Her mutation kept her from truly living with the rest of the population. There was always this protective bubble around her, keeping her from everyone else. Did she really want to go back to the only people who would probably ever accept her?

Remy watched the girl out of the corner of his eye, keeping silent while she continued to struggle with her thoughts.

After looking down at her gloves for a while, she inhaled deeply and raised her eyes to his. "Actually, if ya don't mind...could ya drive me to the airport?"

He stared at her a moment, his face void of emotion. Then he nodded. "Sure, ma cherie, pas de problem," he said softly. They didn't talk after that, deciding to lose themselves in their own private worlds instead.

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If you really wanted to help your friends, you should have just jumped off a cliff or something.

Why the hell would she want to do that? She's a menace, sure, and she certainly couldn't stick around as eye candy, but no need to be rash; she could just run away.

Do you really think she is ever going to be able to stay out of trouble? With that curse she calls a mutation, she'll never be safe for society.

Shut up!

No one is ever going to love you. How can they?

Remember that boy she tried to kiss? What ever happened to him?

Ah'm right here, fire fag, and thanks to her, Mah body's still in a coma. She ruined mah life!

Did you hear that, Rogue? You don't just steal from people who care about you, you DESTROY them!

Shut up.

Or how you almost killed Logan that night.

Ya shoulda let me impale ya. It woulda saved us all a lota grief.

Y'okay, chere?

And you were stupid enough to let me kiss you. Didn't you learn anything the first time with Cody?

Shut up.

Hey, y'hear me, fille? You alright?

You just gonna keep on killing people for ya own selfish pleasure, that it?

Shut up!

Vampire!

"Hey...beb?"

A hand gripped her shoulder, bringing Rogue out of her deep reverie. She instinctively jerked away from it, her own gloved hand smacking it away.

Remy looked at the wide-eyed girl with a neutral expression and dropped his hand. "Y'alright?"

Rogue looked around her, realizing they were stopped at a red light, the expansive John F. Kennedy airport visible only a few miles away.

"Um... yeah. Sorry. Just got a bit of a headache."

The man beside her nodded slightly, still eyeing her.

"Ya really lettin' me go?" she couldn't help but ask in an incredulous tone.

He smiled at her then. A full, dazzling, sex-gods-tremble-before-me smile. "Why sure, ma cherie. We helped each ot'er outta some rough spots, non? It really de least I can do. Y'sure was a fun hostage to have around, dough. 'ppreciate de entertainment."

Rogue smiled slightly, bringing her feet up on the seat and wrapping her arms around her legs. "What are ya gonna do now, with this sweet new ride of yours?" she rested her cheek on her knees.

Remy snorted. "I got some work t'catch up on. Den, I'll prob'ly leave de state...take a li'l road trip."

"Ah bet," Rogue said through a smirk.

They reached the airport a few minutes later and pulled into a long line of parked cars in front of a large group of revolving doors. Below the sign reading "pick up/drop off" was a mass of people, lounging about while slowly inhaling on cigarettes or hustling about, juggling oversized luggage and hyperactive children. A man in security uniform was yelling out directions unintelligibly.

"Well, dis be de end of de tour, mam'selle. We at de Lebeau's Chauffeur co. do hope y'have a wonderful day an' a safe journey to wherever y'heart's desire be...please watch y'step as you exit de vehicle." Remy threw the car into park and gave Rogue a smile which she returned in full.

"Thank ya, Remy. For everythang. For savin' mah butt and showin' me the best time of mah life." She looked down to her hands, suddenly reluctant to leave.

"No need f'dat, chere; it always be Remy's pleasure t'escort lovely femmes around." His open hand entered Rogue's vision, and she reached out to shake it, but he caught her fingers and raised her hand to his lips, brushing them lightly over her knuckles. Rogue was mortified to feel her face heat up like a furnace. She tilted her head down, hoping the wide brim of her hat would hide her flaming cheeks. Remy lifted the corner of her hat up and ducked his head to peek under. Giving her a crooked smile, he whispered softly in her ear, "see y'around, d'accord?"

Rogue's throat constricted as his warm breath hit her neck. She pulled away, nodding dumbly, and opened the door a bit more forcefully than she intended. After yanking her numerous shopping bags out of the backseat, she stood on the pavement, unsure of what to do next. She waved awkwardly at the mysterious man watching her with his arm leaning on the steering wheel, then turned and headed into the crowd, pushing for the doors that would lead her to the rest of her life.

Remy stared at the spot where the strange girl had been swept up by the mass of moving travelers. Qu'une fille interessant. He looked blankly at the steering wheel in front of him for a few minutes, letting his mind wander aimlessly. He blinked a few times before shaking his head roughly to clear his mind. Boy, y'gotta stop wit' de day dreamin'. Y'got work t'do. He shifted the Civic into gear and was preparing to slip into the heavy traffic of departing vehicles when he heard a light tap on the passenger side window. Looking over, Remy saw the girl, bent over to look through the glass at him, biting her lip nervously. He kept the shock from leaking into his expression and leaned his elbow on the button to let the window slide open. "'ello...again."

The girl looked like she was about to turn and run back into the airport, but she cleared her throat and drawled out with an impressive amount of bravado, "well, Ah got ta thinkin'...and what kinda hostage would I be ta pimp out on ya this early? Thought ya could do with an extra pair of hands...keep ya out of trouble." She paused. "That is...if ya wouldn't mind the company?" Again, her insecurity bled through her sparkling green eyes and Remy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like a maniac. He knew it was a bad idea – a dangerous idea – to have the girl stick around, but he also knew he would ultimately give in to the idea and keep her around, so he didn't even both to fight the urge. Besides, common sense had never stopped him before.

"Naw, I wouldn't mind too much. 'Sides, I always wanted a side-kick. All de lone superheroes never have any fun by demselves."

A brilliant smile lit up the fille's face, causing her eyes to sparkle all the more. Damn, dose are some bright eyes. She quickly stuffed her bags in the back and hopped smoothly into the car through the open window. "Well, what are ya waitin' for? Let's roll!" she kicked her boots on top of the glove compartment and crossed her legs as she leaned into her seat.

Remy chuckled, shaking his head. "As m'lady commands." He swung the car out into the road, cutting off a tour bus, but neither of them heard the furious honking from the cranky old driver over the deafening squeal of the Honda's wheels.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Stupid, stupid girl!

What were you thinking, trying to be like a normal human. You're a freak; you can never be like them.

"So, ma cherie, what is y'name anyway?"

Rogue's eyes snapped open, rolling to meet the Cajun's through her fingers as her hands were splayed over her face. "Huh?"

"Ton nom, p'tite. 'Less y'want, Remy should make somet'in' up himself t'call ya. I's real creative dat way..." Remy waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ugh, don't be ruinin' my virgin ears with yah dirty mind!" Rogue grabbed the brim of her hat with both hands and bent it down over her ears.

"What, y'don' trust Remy's...artistic creativity?"

"Yah what? Is that what you kids are callin' it these days?"

"Chere! Y'astound me! Whatever led y'ta t'ink I had anyt'in' but de most gentlemanly of intentions? Why," he began gesturing with his hands, "t' be honoured de task of namin' such une belle fleur as you! T'be able t'place a single word 'pon y'soft, creamy femininity. T'caress avec la langue along y'plush–"

"A'ight, ya best shut those lips of yahs and leave mah creamy femininity alone if ya don't want the remains of yah carcass ta be cooked inta this year's holiday pot roast!"

"Oo, ma moufette epicee, you tres sexy when y'mad!"

"An' you're annoyin' when yo' suicidal!" she growled back at him.

Remy tilted his head back and laughed. "Boy, jus' look at dem cheeks glow!"

"Arrghh!" Rogue twisted in her seat and began slapping Remy's shoulder with both hands over and over. "You..stupid...swamp rat.."

"Ow..ah...ehhh!..." Remy ducked his head between his shoulders in attempt to ward off the blows, causing the car to swerve dangerously.

"Gonna...make...me...ill!..."

"Y'crazy woman!"

During their little scuffle, the tip of Rogue's thumb managed to catch under the rim of Remy's glasses, causing them to flip off his face, sail through the air, and lodge themselves deep in between the seats.

"Fuck!" Remy reacted violently, raising his right arm to shield his eyes from her. "Ahh...fuck," he trailed off as he peeked under his elbow to search for his shades.

"Hey, don't have a cow; they're right here." Rogue plunged her hand down in the space between the seats. After fumbling around for a moment, she grunted in frustration and pulled her hand out again, using her teeth to pull off her glove. Stuffing her bare hand back into the cramped space, she added, "'sides, the sun went down hours ago. Ain't it a little late to be attemptin' the whole badass greaser look?"

"Got sensitive eyes," Remy mumbled, keeping his face turned away from her.

Rogue frowned, noticing his odd behavior. Her fingers touched cold plastic, and she yanked out his glasses. "There ya are, little bugger." With a laughing smile, she picked off some lint stuck to the lenses and offered them back to Remy. As his hand snaked over haphazardly to grab them from her, she noticed that somewhere along the way, he had taken off his gloves. Just as his bare fingers were about to brush against her own, Rogue freaked and threw the glasses at him while retreating as far against the passenger side door as possible.

Remy started as the sunglasses hit his chest and fell into his lap. He risked a glance over to the girl beside him, but her head was facing the window, arms crossed tightly against her chest. Shaking his head a little, he slipped the shades back on and took a deep breath. Not knowing what to say, he kept silent.

"Rogue," the girl said quietly a few minutes later.

Remy's eyes shifted back and forth a few times. "Excusez-moi?"

"My name," she said slowly, "is Rogue."

A slow, shit-eating smile spread across his face. "Rogue." He played it across his tongue. "How mysterious. Got a last name t'go wit' dat?" Rogue just stared at him, so he continued, "Well, enchante, Rogue. Je m'appelle Remy Lebeau."

"Yeah, I got that from all the talking in third person. Think swamp rat suits ya better, though." Rogue smirked at his exaggerated look of offense. "So, are we gonna keep drivin' all night, or are we gonna hole up somewhere?"

"Dere's a little motel up a ways dat's expectin' me. We should get dere b'fore midnight."

"Expectin' ya? Don't tell me you were plannin' a little race 'round town with the police?"

"Non, actually, I don' like pissin' off de cops in Manhattan. Dey a buncha real cranks. If y'wan' a real car chase, get yoself down t'good ole N'Awlins durin' Mardi Gras. Hooo weee! Dere's a time f'ya!"

Rogue laughed, turning to face the Cajun, but when she saw the utter seriousness in his expression– and a tiny bit of sincere wistfulness– her laughter cut off abruptly and she was left gaping at his perfect profile. Eyes wide, mouth shaping into a little 'o', she turned her head slowly to stare ahead at the road ahead of them and gulped deeply. What have a got myself into?

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Translations: (note: there are some accent marks in some of the words that I have omitted, mainly because they are a hassle to put in. An example is the well known for ROMY fans: chere is actually spelled chère )

Qu'une fille interessant: what an interesting girl

une belle fleur: a beautiful flower

avec la langue : with language

ma moufette epicee: my spicy skunk. (Sorry, just could not resist!)

Excusez-moi: excuse me

enchante... Je m'appelle : enchanted. (Nice ta meetcha)...my name is