They were laying on their backs, side-by-side on the wooden platform, their new treefort. They'd covered it with a picnic blanket to keep from getting stuck with splinters or poked with errant nails. They were not meant for careers in construction, it seemed. She had hung mosquito netting from the branches above, which kept the bugs off at least. It was much cooler up here in the tree, shaded by the oak leaves, rather than in the house, which was stifling. Remy should have been back home hours ago, but the sun and heat had lulled him into a daze. He was half-asleep. Belle too, he thought, her bare sweat-sticky arm pressing against his own.

I'm sticking with you. 'Cause I'm made out of glue. Anything that you might do. I'm gonna do too.

She turned towards him to lay on her side. "Remy?" she whispered. She put her hand on his stomach. "You 'wake?"

"Mnh," was his reply.

"Remy...? Anyone ever touch you...here?" she asked, her hand moved lower.

Remy gave a breathy half-laugh and grinned, his eyes still closed. He pushed her hand away. "Don't be stew-pid," he said. He knew what that was all about. Tante had explained to him where babies came from ages ago. The dirty jokes he'd learned made a lot more sense after that, but he kinda still didn't get it.

Belle didn't say anything for a bit. Remy opened an eye and looked at her. Her eyelids were closed tight. The corners of her mouth were down, like someone was tugging them with strings. "Must just be me then," she said, her voice real tight and small.

Remy rolled onto his side to face her. "S'okay, Belle," he said. "You can touch me if you want. I don't care."

You held up a stage coach in the rain. And I'm doing the same. Saw you hanging from a tree. And I made believe it was me.

Her violet eyes opened to look at him. They were wet.

"Maybe we should just try kissing first?" Remy suggested.

Belle smiled.

I'll do anything for you. Anything you want me too. I'll do anything for you. Oh I'm sticking with you. I'm sticking with you.

Kissing again, seven years gone in the blink of an eye, in the nave of a church. The reception line passing them by. It was fine, most of the attendants would prefer to ignore either Remy or Belle or both anyway.

"I guess you clean up okay, ugly," Belle told him, fingering the formal Guild attire he'd been forced into.

"You're lookin' slightly less stew-pid today, Belle," Remy replied. She was wearing her mother's gown; pretty modest, for Belle. White flowers in her hair, momentarily tamed. His fingers traveled down the 80-some buttons running down her spine from nape to tailbone. That was going to be a challenge for later.

"Only slightly less? How's dat possible when I'm standin' next to you?" Belle said and Remy laughed. Kissed her again.

"Won't even let God come between 'em!" Remy's cousin announced. Remy and Belle were crushed into a group hug unexpectedly. "Save it for de honeymoon, you two!"

"Get your paws offa me, Rabbit!" Belle said and shoved Emil back.

Emil stood next to his own wife, Marie-Thérèse. "Hey, M.T.," Remy said to the woman, though some might consider her a girl still. She was very pregnant. "You're lookin' more full today. How many babies you got in dere anyway?"

Marie-Thérèse offered him a rude hand gesture. She made a lot of those.

Belle stage whispered: "I think she's tellin' you dere's just de one."

"You'll be next!" Emil said, and poked a finger into Belle's shoulder.

"Poke me again, and you're gonna have to find another finger to scratch your ass wit'!" Belle hissed.

Remy's laugh echoed. The priest was not looking at them kindly. Father-of-the-bride was none too pleased either.

"Maybe we should meet ya outside before we're all smited. Smitten? Smote?" Emil said. Remy propelled him toward the double doors to the church exit. "What're we throwin' anyway? Rice? Or grenades?" The priest and Belle's father Marius followed after the departing couple. It was raining a little outside. Supposedly, that was good luck.

"Thank God dat's over," Belle sighed. "I'm starvin'! And I only intend t'eat cake and drink champagne all night!"

Unfortunately, there was one last person in line. He hadn't been invited. Of course, he'd want to get the last word in, like a shiv to the rib cage. Remy intended to walk away but Julien's words brought him up short.

"You had de nerve to wear white?" he asked his sister. "Mama'll be rollin' in her grave."

Remy turned to look at the heinous man. He looked a lot like his sister, lots of wild blond hair, delicate features, too-generous mouth. Except Julien's eyes were like flat painted rocks to Belle's sapphires. "Go t'Hell," Remy told him in the same manner one might say: 'Nice weather we're having!'

"I'd tell you to go get fucked," Julien answered, "but I'm sure my slut of a sister has already taken care of dat."

Remy thought to grab the man's ceremonial sword from his scabbard and stab him with it. Belle grasped Remy's right wrist before he could turn thought into action. It didn't matter, Remy could use his left just as easily.

"He's not worth your time," Belle said. "I won't let him ruin our day. Or night. Or de rest of our lives!"

Remy's father Jean-Luc was a very patient man. He was long on thought, but not too quick on action. Years ago, when he brought the idea to Marius of marrying off their two youngest, he knew he'd be taking away what was rightfully Henri's. Henri should have been next in line for Guild patriarch, not the youngest child, and certainly not the one who was unrelated by blood. At the same time, the marriage meant Julien would not ascend to his father's station. Marius was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. He knew Julien was unfit for anything other than an early grave.

Belle pulled Remy into another kiss, one that probably shouldn't be happening in the nave of a Holy Church. Remy thought he saw a plaster angel blush. Belle's eyes were closed, but Remy had one eye on Julien. Hating him so much he felt it in his chest, the fire of a thousand suns.

Remy woke up feeling sick to his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd recalled those particular memories. Remy rubbed his hands on his face vigorously, sat up from the bed and started towards the bathroom. Sunlight was streaming through the two windows on either side of his dorm room bed. Outside on the School grounds, it was a world of sparkling white. Tiny crystal snowflakes were twirling down out of a blue sky. In the bathroom, he washed his mouth out with water from the tap, trying to chase away the sour taste his nightmare had left him with. The opposite door to the shared bath opened and Remy looked up from the sink to see Bobby.

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize you were up!" the man said. Rogue might have called him the Cute Boy, but he was Remy's senior by three or four years. Maybe Rogue thought most of the men here were boys, other than Logan and Magnus.

"S'alright," Remy said. "I was just leavin'." Remy spied the travel bag on Bobby's mattress. Remy had one packed too, stuck underneath his own bed. "Goin' home?" he asked.

Bobby glanced back into his bedroom, he had a kind of look on his face that didn't convey Christmas cheer. "Yeah, tomorrow. I told them I was staying for the party tonight."

Oh yeah, the party, Remy thought with some dread. Remy supposed he'd have to put on his Game Face for that. Grin and bear it. "You're not wanting to go home? Don't ya miss your mama's cooking?"

Bobby put a smile on his face. "To be honest, Rogue's a much better cook."

"I won't argue dat," Remy said. "De lake is froze over and I imagine it'd hurt more to get thrown into it."

Bobby laughed a little. "It's not my mom's dried out ham. It's my dad. He's kind of a jerk."

Remy gave Bobby a sympathetic smile. "My cousin has de same problem. Hared off and made his own family as soon as he could, just to get away from him."

"I can relate to that. How about yours?" Bobby asked.

"My daddy? He's a badass! If it makes you feel any better, my dad could totally beat up your dad."

Bobby thought this over. "Is that a threat...or an offer?" he said with mock consideration, then grinned. Remy thought Bobby had a pretty good Game Face too.

There was a knock on Remy's door. He turned and Rogue peeked in. It felt like awhile since he'd last seen her, but it had only been a little over a day. A day, at least, since he'd seen Carol. Bobby waved at her from the bathroom.

"Later," Bobby said to Remy.

"Yup," Remy replied with a wave of his own as he closed the bathroom door.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Rogue told him as she closed the bedroom door.

"Same t'you," Remy said, hoping he wasn't looking as nervous as he felt. She sounded herself, now anyway. Not Carol. "Y'awright?"

Rogue nodded in a noncommittal way. "Ah'm...fair enough."

"I don't even know how you can stand t'look at me," he said and walked to the window to half-lower the blinds.

"Ah know it wasn't you," Rogue said softly. "It was obvious from the get-go. Ah should have-."

"You can't honestly blame yourself for what happened," he cut her off.

"No, Ah don't. There's only one to blame."

Remy agreed with the statement, but probably not the who. He was the one who'd brought the devil into the house in the first place.

"Ah can tell what you're thinkin'," Rogue said. "What all Sinister did ta me, he did ta you, too. He assaulted mah body, but he...he did somethin' else to your mind. Ah can't even bring mahself t'say it. Ah know what that's like. Ah've done it to plenty of people mahself."

Remy shook his head angrily. "That-no. You didn't do what he did. Get in someone's head and…force them to do things. That's not something you'd do."

Rogue looked at her gloved hands, twisting her fingers together. "Ah'm sorry Ah didn't tell you about Carol. Ah figured...well, everyone here knows already. Ah shouldn't have assumed anyone would tell you. Just, news-gets around. That was mah excuse, anyway, to not have t'say."

Remy shrugged, sat on the end of the bed. "You don't owe me anything. It's not like I gave you my whole history."

"About your...w-wife?" Rogue said, struggling through the word.

"Among other things."

Rogue took a half step towards him, faltered, but then decided to sit beside him. "We agreed we'd leave our pasts in the past, remember?"

"You want t'talk about gettin' in people's heads? Manipulating them, controlling them? I got some stories that'll uncurl your hair," Remy told her.

"Remy…"

"Used to do it all de time. Not a one-night-stand kinda guy, me. I could spend weeks making a girl fall in love with me."

"Please, don't."

"Wasn't even about sex. Just wanted to convince her I was her Prince Charming. Then once she told me how much she loved me, I'd either rob her blind, start up wit' someone else, or just drop her flat. Make sure she knew I'd betrayed her."

Rogue put her face in her hands.

"Get to start hating the girl once she uttered those three words, because she was just so stupid to fall for de likes of me." Remy knew he was making Rogue cry; he didn't want to look at her.

She was silent for a while. Remy heard her sniffle. He would never bring himself to hate her though, even if she'd said those words to him. Which she hadn't.

"Why'd you tell me all that?" she asked, her throat tight with emotion.

"So you know who I really am."

"You're a liar."

"C'est vrai."

"That's not who you are at all."

"You need more evidence?"

"Just stop it!" Rogue stood then and put herself in front of Remy so he had no choice but to look up at her.

Remy wasn't going to stop until she knew: "I was sworn, beholden, to serve another woman for three years. She is truly de most awful person I've ever met. Abused, tortured my family. It was a big game t'her. Entertainment. I stayed those three years-and one day. That last day, I chose to be wit' her instead of goin' back home to my wife, my family."

"Just a day," Rogue whispered. "You left after."

"That day my father came to get me, I said the most hateful things t'him. Told him I despised him and if I ever saw him again, I'd kill him."

"But you realized you'd made a mistake."

"Too late. Can't unsay what I said."

"He'll forgive you."

"I don't want forgiveness. I don't deserve it."

Rogue let out a long, shaking sigh. "Ah know exactly what you're feelin', sugah. But it doesn't serve you any to keep beating yourself up about it. You got to get unstuck, move forward with your life."

"The dumb things I did...I didn't just mess up my own life, I messed up so many people's lives. Including my longest, closest friend. Who I married. Bet she's wishin' she'd never met me."

"Do you love her?" Rogue asked. "Do you love her still?"

"Yes."

"Would you go back t'her, if you could?"

"I've made myself the most undesirable husband in the world. At de very least, I've made it so she won't miss me."

"But if she'd forgive you? Would you go back?"

Remy looked at Rogue's face, her complexion blotchy, eyes bright with unshed tears. He hated himself for making her look that way. "I'll give you whatever answer you want to hear."

"How about the truth, Remy?"

He extended his hand in her direction. "I'm assumin' without my full powers, you can absorb me now. You can see the truth then."

Rogue looked at his outstretched hand, his silent offer. She nodded to herself, as if in confirmation. She folded her arms against her body protectively. "Remy...Ah can be honest, too. Mah name-."

Remy interrupted by standing and walking to her. "What's a name tell me about who you are?" he asked. "Will it tell me more about you, more than the name you've been callin' yourself? Is your real name the real you? Or are you Rogue: independent, uncontrollable, unexpected...more than I could ever bargain for?"

She was looking away, but now she looked up at him. "You might be right," she conceded.

He smiled slightly. "There's another first for me."

Next time: Next time: Christmas party crashers and the conclusion of this story.

Random Reference:
Sticking with You - Velvet Underground

Okay folks, next week it will be a romantic preview of the following book. It will contain spoilers, so read at your own risk.