Title: Let The Good Times Roll! (Laissez les Bons Temps Rouler!)
Author: Wolverine6Claws
Pairing: Logan and Remy
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel and I make no profit off this story. It's just for fun and fan entertainment.

Summary: In response to Dee's Mardi Gras challenge - Logan and Remy meet on the last day of Mardi Gras

** Dedicated to my good friend Ebi who loves L and R about as much as she loves N'Awlins at Mardi Gras.

It was February 26, 1963. Fat Tuesday. Last day of Mardi Gras.

He'd gotten some leave of absence and he couldn't think of anywhere else he'd rather be than New Orleans during Mardi Gras. The world's largest and wildest public block party; where the people let go of their inhibitions, ignored the rules of their adopted morality for a few days, and came together from every culture to simply celebrate being alive. His name was Logan. Just Logan. No Further Information - No Full Name; that's what his file said. Tonight it didn't matter though. He had two more nights before having to head back to Canada and he planned to make the most of them.

He'd made his way to Canal Street from his hotel room in the French Quarter. LeRichelieu, on Chartres Street sat two blocks southeast of Bourbon Street. It was a very nice older hotel set nicely in the far, quiet corner of Quarter. The rooms were large and spacious and the bathrooms were even larger. The huge walk-in closet had captured his attention as he dropped his bag on the floor of it. He wondered how anyone would ever be able to use such a large storage area unless they intended to set up permanent residence - and that wasn't an entirely unwelcoming thought. The staff of the hotel were nice, friendly and always helpful... especially the young chambermaid with the huge green eyes and inviting smile. He'd left his Indian in the hotel parking lot; free of charge.

After heading out from the hotel, he turned right onto Governor Nicholls Street and then turned left onto Bourbon. His first stop of this night was The Funky Pirate; a blues bar with righteous music and a dark smoky atmosphere. An hour there and a dozen shots of Jack later, Logan set out again. He meandered the streets amongst the partying mobs and simply lost himself in the crowds. It was an interestingly odd sensation to be part of so many and yet apart from them as well.

Before he knew it he'd found himself at one of his favorite spots; Howl At the Moon was a slightly classier club than the Pirate, with live performances and dueling pianos. As the pianos battled to the cheers of the crowd inside, Logan found himself riding the wave quietly. A pretty young gal had approached him at one point, they exchanged a few words before a rather assertive young man came over to claim her. Logan simply put a hand up and excused himself from the young lady's company and took his drink to the other end of the bar. Although he wasn't against finding himself some company, he wasn't in the mood to fight over someone else's claim.

After a while he took his leave of the Howling Moon and made his was to Frenchman's Street. The music was incredible and seemed to be alive and thrumming from every brick of every building and every cobblestone under his feet. He was unaware of how many hours he spent strolling around the streets until he came upon a live brass band at the corner of Bourbon and Canal. A small interested audience gave the talented band their due attention and Logan stopped long enough to make eye contact with each of the fine musicians and then he nodded to himself, a small grin on his face and he moved on to the noise of Canal Street. The parade was in full swing and the crowd was packed in so tight that he could barely maneuver.

He crossed the street at a jog between performers and made it to the opposite side before choosing to head back toward the hotel via a different route. Zigzagging back toward the French Quarter as the hour neared midnight, he stopped outside a small club where the toe tapping sounds of jazz pushed its way out into the street as a man and his partner, probably his wife, staggered out the door nearly tripping over him. Logan stopped to listen to the magic sounds, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather coat, his straw cowboy hat pulled down over his brow; totally anonymous and unnoticed. As the door slowly closed, he made a decision and reached out to grab the brass handle. Pulling open the heavy wooden door he stepped inside the threshold of Babin's Jazz Club and let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit atmosphere.

Making his way across the floor, careful to give those on the dance floor a wide enough berth, he elbowed up to the bar. The barkeep came over almost immediately and Logan gave his order as he took off his hat and laid it carefully atop the bar. Resting on his elbow, he turned to scan the crowd seated in the booths and along the counter. It was his way, to always know everything about his surroundings. It took no effort, it was just old habit. His eyes were drawn to the dance floor... and to a particular young man there. He was graceful, intriguing, and a redhead. Logan almost grinned as he realized the attraction to redheads was strong no matter what side of the court he was playing. This guy was a live wire. His entire being seemed to be alive with an energy Logan could feel but not identify. He scanned the crowd dancing around the redhead and glanced back at the boy. If he didn't know better he'd say the crowd was actually energizing the kid... and feeding off him at the same time. They too seemed to be drawn to him. "Red" was wearing a lightly striped gray suit, but the jacket of the suit was cut long; not quite like a trench coat but shorter than that, stopping at the slender hips. He wore a dark red shirt with a black tie... not the modern type tie, but the kind you'd see on old west gamblers. He wore dark glasses and his hair was pulled into a single, long ponytail down his back and tied with the same type of long black fabric as his tie. It matched his shoes.

The barkeep came over and put a shot glass down near his elbow and filled it with whiskey. He said something and Logan turned long enough to acknowledge him and tell him to leave the bottle. He lifted the shot and tossed it back. He swallowed the smooth warm liquid as he watched the young man. A young lady sauntered up to him and laced her arms around the young man's neck. She smiled at him and he smiled back, but he didn't seem to mean it. They danced for a few moments before a larger man walked up to the pair and interrupted the dance. Logan turned slightly to grab the bottle of Jim Beam and poured another shot. He turned back to watch the scene on the dance floor as the large man pulled the young lady by the arm, tearing her away from the tall redhead. Thinking briefly that he was a jealous boyfriend, Logan was only slightly surprised to see the girl tossed aside as the larger man stepped up to the young man in an aggressive manner. Even over the loud
din of music and shouting from inside the bar and from outside as well, Logan could hear the tone of the conversation if not the words themselves. "Big Man" wanted "Young Man" to join him elsewhere for... something... dark, perhaps. The young man stepped up close to "Big Man" and smiled at him in a dangerously inviting way. Logan narrowed his eyes and grinned, amused. "Young Man" was flirting with "Big Man", but he didn't mean it... and Logan found that dangerous side of him rather intriguing. He turned around briefly to refill his shot glass, enjoying the sights and the sounds flooding his senses. This would be his last stop tonight, he knew this. He watched... and he wondered what "Red's" name might be... and from where he came.

Logan tossed back the drink and turned his back to the bar, leaning against it with one booted foot resting on the metal rail that ran the length of it as a foot rest. He watched the redhead dancing with "Big Man" and noted that the larger man seemed to have roving hands. He also noted "Red's" repeated counter measures to his unwanted advances. His attention piqued now, his senses on alert as he realized that things just might begin to escalate if the flash of anger he'd seen in the boy's actions was any indication. He seemed to be making every attempt to lose himself in the music and the moment... if it weren't for his aggressive companion ruining it for him. He watched still as "Big Man" groped at "Red" who'd kindly agreed to give him a dance and his own anger began to rise. It wasn't his business... yet.

As he watched from the bar through the crowd constantly passing by and getting in his way, the kid glanced around and then appeared to see him watching. The boy did a double take and then lingered on him. Logan raised his shot glass slightly to let the boy know he saw him and the kid smiled back. "Big Man" however also saw the action and smacked the kid, wanting to know who else he was smiling at. The kid pushed the big man and the big man grabbed the boy hard.

"Git off me, connard!" the boy shouted.

Logan's ears perked up at the sound of his angry command, which reached him easily even through the din of the crowd and the band. He straightened, coming to attention at the bar, his blue eyes now glued to the pair on the dance floor. He watched as Red pulled away from his companion and he was on the move as the foolish drunk reached for the boy again, as if attempting to restrain him from leaving. The boy pushed the big man away and took a defensive stance, pulling some attention from a few on the floor. The big man grabbed the boy again, clutching a fistful of his suit jacket.

Logan caught the act as he pushed through the crowded dance floor. He was picking up stop action images of the pair as people got in his way. Being short was not always a virtue; but sometimes it came in handy when approaching a malcontent in a crowded bar. Just as the young man made a move toward the unwanted would-be suitor, Logan was suddenly there between them. Not only was his intention to defend the young man from an over-inebriated man-child in the body of a teamster, but also to protect him from unwanted attention from the other patrons. He recognized that flash of rage that had burned brightly behind those dark glasses and realized immediately the boy was a mutant. Most of the others on the floor had missed the brief flare, but he recognized the red rage as if it mirrored his own, which he had under control at the moment. The animal stirred, ready for the fight, but Logan was determined to cut the young man off before it turned to that.

"I think the boy's had enough for tonight," Logan mentioned to the big man as he stepped between them, placing his hand against the larger man's chest in a friendly and helpful manner.

As "Big Man" looked down at him confused, Logan tossed the kid a look as if asking permission to tend to the situation. He didn't wait for a response as he had a slight upper hand while the man was taken aback by his sudden appearance. As "Big Man" furrowed his brow Logan put his hand on the man's outstretched arm and put pressure until the arm lowered. The amount of pressure was significant enough to get the man's attention, but outwardly the action looked gentle to other patron's. "Hey Pal, I'm thinkin' you've had enough fun for one night and it's time for you to call it a night... after you apologize , of course, for the upset."

The big man blinked at the short dark stranger who was now squeezing his arm, trying to be discreet but with obvious intent that he should leave the boy alone. The little man's voice was low and calm but his manner was clear; he wouldn't take any guff and there was something odd about the runt which made Big Man pause. He conceded without issue. "Yeah... yeah, you got it. Sorry, kid. My mistake."

"Good man," Logan offered and looked at the kid to see if he accepted the apology. He seemed taken aback but recovered quickly.

"Apology accepted," the boy replied with a heavy Cajun accent.

'Well that answered that question,' Logan thought and then assisted by guiding the big man in the direction of the door. With only a single look back over his shoulder the man left in peace.

"T'anks for de assist," the tall Acadian said, his eyes taking in the unruly dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. He gestured toward the door his aggressor had just exited. "You wanna get outta dis place? Get some fresh air?"

"Sure," Logan replied and the pair left the Jazz Club in one piece. They walked a short way down the bustling street when Logan finally asked. "So what was that all about back there?"

"Oh, dat... not a t'ing fuh you to be worried about, mi."

"Well... hope ya' don't mind me steppin' in. I thought it best not to let him draw too much attention, is all."

"Why's dat?" the kid asked.

"Well, ya' know how people like to talk..."

The kid looked at the short stranger and cocked his head slightly. "And what d'ya t'ink dey would talk about, mon ami?"

Logan looked up at the tall redhead. "Well... you know..." he said, giving a nod toward the kid.

"Ya' mean... cuz I'm a mutant?" the Cajun asked.

"Yeh... that."

"You don't mind?" he asked and Logan looked at him as if in query. "Dat I'm a mutie?" the kid defined.

Logan grinned slightly. "No. I don't mind."

The kid stopped walking and Logan walked a few more steps before realizing it. He stopped to turn around. "Why is dat?" the kid asked.

"Why is what?" Logan asked in return.

"Why is it dat you don't care dat I'm a mutie."

"The word is mutant... not mutie. And does it matter?" Logan asked.

The kid studied him for a moment and then shrugged. "I guess it don't."

"Then quit yer jabberin' about it and let's go," Logan told him.

The younger man started walking again and Logan stepped in beside him as he came alongside. "Where we goin'?"

"Wherever ya' want," Logan told him. "I have a room nearby if ya' want..." he trailed off.

The boy grinned and briefly grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the right. "Before dat... I wanna dance." He said smiling.

"Haven't ya' had enough of that?" Logan asked.

"Dat wasn't dancin'," Red told him. "Dat was wrestlin' wit' a pig who had too much ta drink... I wanna dance," he said, and a gentle pull had the stranger moving with him into the next swinging club they came to.

Red guided his new friend onto the dance floor and turned to him. Logan simply looked up at him with an amused grin on his face. The tall Cajun draped his long arms over his shoulders and began to sway gently. "You like to dance, mi?"

"Yeah I guess," Logan answered.

"What's yer name, mi?"

"Logan."

"First or last?" the kid asked.

"Yep."

Red laughed at that; a hearty laugh that made Logan smile outright. He liked this kid. He felt right.

"So... Logan... you're not from around here, non?"

"Nope."

"Here fuh da party, yeh?"

"Yep. Here for the party. Isn't everyone?"

"Yep... I guess dat be true. So where you from?" Red asked.

"Up north... Alberta."

"Canuck? Nice," Red said with a smile.

"Yep."

After that the kid stopped asking so many questions and just closed his eyes, swaying to the music. Logan simply watched him, feeling as though he'd known the kid forever in one way - and not at all in another.

They'd danced a couple of dances and had a few drinks at the bar before either realized they were hungry so they took a seat at a booth in the back and ordered a decent meal. They talked about nothing in particular and just enjoyed the atmosphere and the company. Neither of them felt a great need to constantly talk; instead they just enjoyed having someone nearby to share it all with.

A few hours later they left the club. For the next couple of hours they moved in and out of different shops and walked the side streets where most tourists wouldn't go. They sampled French coffee and homemade chocolates and even partied in the streets with the parade processions and spectators alike. The kid was full of energy that seemed to recharge every time he got near a mob celebrating. Logan just watched him most of the time and even joined in when Red forced him to.

As they slowed and moved to the side of the street to let the revelers move along without them, Logan turned to the tall Acadian. "You sure do like to party, huh." He was testing the waters but he was also intrigued and curious. He liked the kid and he had a wild, untamed side to him that spoke to his own wildness.

The kid looked down at him and seemed to study him for a moment. "Yeah, mi... Remy like to party."

"Remy," Logan repeated. "That's your name, huh?"

"Oui."

"I thought I might have to call ya' "Red" all night," Logan told him with a hint of a grin.

"All night?" Remy echoed back.

"Well..."

The kid stepped up close to him and graced his fingertips around the edge of his jacket zipper. "You plannin' on us keepin' company all night? Is dat it?" he asked.

Logan swallowed thickly, realizing they hadn't actually made any solid plans either way. The kid was close enough to taste on his tongue, his scent strong and sweet and filling his senses. Logan blinked when the kid's hand came up in front of him, his room key dangling from the Cajun's curled finger. He reached down and patted the pockets of his jeans, knowing that's where he'd put the key. "How'd you do that?" he asked.

The kid gave him a sultry grin. "Remy a t'ief," he said as a way of explaining.

"You plannin' on rippin' me off?" Logan asked, baiting the boy.

"Trust me," the kid told him.

"Trust you? Why should I do that?" he asked; feeling as though he was learning the steps to a new dance.

"Remy can show you t'ings, mon ami."

Logan smiled at him, his eyes smoldering with dark desires.

Remy smiled back and tipped his dark glasses down his nose to peer over the edge; his glowing red eyes piercing in their intensity.
"Trust me, mon ami."

Logan considered him a few more seconds and nodded slowly. "I guess I can do that... since you'll be trusting me too."

Remy laughed heartily, tossing his head back. "I didn't say dat," he confessed and wrapped his arm around the shorter man's neck. "I do like you, Logan. Logan an' Remy git along just fine," he said as the two sauntered toward the far end of the district and the rented room.

_Logan escorted his new friend to the LeRichelieu Hotel and up to his room. Remy took a seat on the couch and enjoyed a steeped tea while Logan reclined on the bed. The two talked for a while until Remy finally stood up and moved across the room and joined him on the bed. He started off sitting beside Logan with his back against the headboard, copying the position of the other man. He grinned at Logan and Logan simply looked back at him as if studying him, sizing him up.

Remy reached over and began to unbutton Logan's shirt. As he neared the man's belt buckle he shifted onto his knees. Logan simply regarded him with a close perusal and Remy simply smiled, letting out a soft chuckle. "Trust me, mon amour... ye gonna like dis." He worked the belt loose and Logan shirked out of his shirt as Remy tugged off his boots and dropped them to the floor with a loud thud.

They spent the night exploring each other in heated frenzy, moving from the bed to the floor and the couch. Remy showed Logan a great time and Logan showed Remy that he wasn't entirely new to the Mardi Gras scene.

When morning came Logan packed his bag while Remy grinned at him from the bathroom door. He wore a towel around his lanky waist and was brushing his teeth vigorously even as he smiled wide at the shorter man.

"What the hell are you grinnin' about, Cajun?" Logan asked as he sat on the bed and shoved a boot onto his left foot.

"You," Remy said through a mouthful of minty foam.

"Why?" Logan asked as he grabbed the other boot.

"You didn't tell me you were a mutant too," Remy chuckled softly and then disappeared long enough to spit in the sink.

"Thought I'd save that as a li'l surprise," Logan replied, trying not to grin.

"Well, dat it was. Mon Deux... dat healin' factor o' yours nearly killed Remy."

"I'm surprised you're on your feet already," Logan chuckled.

"Oh I started to get out of bed a few hours before you woke up, so dat was an illusion," Remy confessed. That got another chuckle out of the other man.

"You gonna get dressed some time today? I'm all packed and ready to check out," Logan informed him.

"Where ye' gonna go, mi?" Remy asked as he tossed the towel into the bathroom and walked to the bed naked to grab his pants. Logan watched him, enjoying the sight of the tall Acadian. He watched him pull on his pants and boots and then slip into his silky shirt.

"I need to head north," Logan told him. "Vacation's over."

"Can Remy come wit' you?" the Cajun asked.

"You wanna come with me?" Logan asked in return.

"Oui... I do," Remy told him sincerely.

The two looked at each other for a few moments. Logan couldn't deny the connection he felt for the kid. It was odd for him to feel so close to someone he'd just met but he couldn't deny that the sensation was strong. For him... it was right. He nodded and grabbed his bag off the bed.

"Let's go get your things," he told the kid.

Remy smiled wide and followed the other out of the room anticipating a new life of adventure with his new partner.

End