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Remy walked down the hallway. He had his mind set on sleeping since he hadn't been getting much sleep lately. Suddenly, the closet door opened and Rogue stepped out, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him.

"Never did it in a closet before." Remy smirked as he reached up and pulled on the hanging chain. When the light came on, Rogue pushed him back into the wall. It was a small closet, so he only leaned back against the wall, which was two inches away.

"Did the kiss mean anythin' or did you do it at the spare of the moment o' somethin'?" She asked, sounding slightly nervous. "I mean, how can we go hatin' each other one minute an' making out the next?"

"First of all, it was more than one minute." He stated, unsure of what to say. Remy reached into a pocket of a coat that was hanging up, and pulled something out. A peppermint. "Ooh." He unwrapped it and plopped it in his mouth.

"Don't eat that! You don't even know how old that is."

"Don't nag me."

"Fine. Then I hope ya choke."

"If I do, will you give me CPR?"

"Don't hold your breath."

"If you were chokin', I'd give you CPR."

Rogue poked his shoulder. "You'd give me CPR even if I wasn't choking." She poked his shoulder again. "You'd tackle me even if I wasn't an intruder."

He sighed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Hell yeah. I love the way how your eyes burn when I bring it up."

"They do not." He mumbled in a small voice when suddenly a strange noise was heard. It was the noise of a peppermint getting lodged in a certain Cajun's throat. He reached for his throat and made a wheezing sound.

Rogue's face deadpanned. "You're not serious." He was. "I told you not to eat it!" She reached over, opened the closet door, pulled the red faced Remy out and tried to perform the Heimlich maneuver. Don't fret; after nearly breaking all his ribs, she got it right on the fourth shot! The half dissolved peppermint flew out of his mouth.

Remy coughed before snapping at Rogue; "You never told me not to eat it!"

"Yes she did, boy. You should have listened to her." Mattie stood in the doorway leading to the living room. She smirked at their surprised looks. "Paper thin walls." She said, slowly turning around, "Paper thin walls."

Things were quiet for several minutes.

Rogue gave Remy a playful shove. "Told ya."

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"Where's Jean-Luc?" Later that night, Remy walked into the kitchen to see Mattie stirring something in a pot with a wooden spoon.

"Out." She answered as she slowly slid the wooden utensil out of the pot and covered it. (The pot, not the lid, mind you.) "Need help with anythin'?" She turned around and stared at him with her hands set on her hips.

He shook his head, "No, what would make you think I need help with anything?"

"Why else would you be lookin' for your father?"

"Because he's my father whom I love and respect?" Remy tried, tilting his head a little. He didn't even believe his words. How sad.

"Try again."

"Because I want to lynch him and feed his remains to vultures?"

"That's more like it but I know you don't like talkin' to him because the minute he sees you he goes into a frenzy about what to rob next."

"You know what, Tante Mattie? You're right. I'll be goin' now."

"Such a rogue boy." Mattie muttered, loud enough for him to hear it as he walked out of the room.

"Funny." He shot at her with sarcasm right as he walked into Rogue. Remy stared at her surprised. "What are you doin' here?"

"It's not that big of a house besides, I wanted to help Mattie with dinner." She said, giving him a weird look. "Did I interrupt anything?"

"No. An' I'm helpin' 'er with supper."

"You are?" Mattie and Rogue asked in unison. They both stared at the Cajun with wide eyes.

"Boy, you haven't helped with dinner.. ever." Mattie picked the lid off the pot and titled it towards her so the steam didn't rise in her face. She then turned off the stovetop. "Why start now?"

"Better late than never, neh?"

"He does have skilled hands." Rogue said, smirking over at him. "He can put 'em to use and roll up some meatballs."

Mattie smiled when she said he had skilled hands and had to bite down on her lower lip to keep herself from saying, 'and how would you know how skillful his hands were?' She nodded her head and nodded over to the table. "An' after you're done rollin' 'em up, Rogue can show you how to get the seasoning on."

"I'm sure he can manage." Rogue said with a small laugh. "But if you want me to, I will."

The older woman nodded, "Thank ye, child. Now, how 'bout you make the puddin' for dessert?"

"Sure, what kind?"

"Butterscotch."

Remy immediately perked up. "Butterscotch?" And in unison, both Rogue and Remy had declared, "I love butterscotch."

Mattie just smiled.

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"Your meatballs look like dog dumplings." Ten minutes later, Mattie excused herself while the sauce for the spaghetti was cooking, leaving the two Southerners alone.

"Shut up. So what if they're not in a perfect circle shape." He made a face at the oval shaped meatball in his hand. "You're just jealous."

"Oh yeah, you know it." Rogue picked up the bowl of butterscotch pudding and set it in the fridge. After she closed the door, she walked over to Remy and gently pushed him aside. "Here, let me show ya." She took the meatball from his hand and within seconds, she made it into a perfectly shaped meatball.

"Yeah, well, I'm culinary-challenged."

"You can say that again." She then rolled the meatball in some seasoning and set it down on sheet of foil.

"That again." He whispered seductively into her ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I think you're the one with the skilled hands." She shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. "How about showin' me how skillful they really are.."

"Maybe.." Rogue slowly turned her head so her eyes met his. She mumbled something else as he leaned in and their lips connected.

Mattie stood in the doorway of the room, smiling at the two. She then turned around and walked down the hall, into the living room. When she did, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. "'Ello Mercy, it's Mattie, can I talk to Jean-Luc?" She waited. "Jean-Luc? It looks like you've lost the bet."

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