This is my newest fanfiction; you can see the title. It's about everyone's favorite Cajun. And just to let everyone know, I DON'T LIKE ROGUE!!! She sucks!! I never pair Remy and Rogue together, because the whore abandoned him in Antarctica. I don't like her for that, so there might be some Rogue bashing. You don't like it, don't read my story. Be sure to R & R. And if your gonna flame, be nice about it please!!

- Also the dialect you see before you is my own colloquial dialect the way you expect certain people to talk for Southerners. I'm very sorry if you feel like I'm stereotyping, and this is not used to offend any one.

Any way, this fic will have some touchy subjects in it, so please read at your own risk. Can't say I didn't warn you!!

Disclaimer: I do not own The X-Men or any other character belonging to Marvel, although I wish I did.

Takes place before Remy was added to the X-Men, a sort of how he joined fic. Enjoy!!

Recap:

Going:

Logan

Scott

Jean

Dominique

Staying:

Beast

Morph

Storm

Good luck to all.

Jean and Dominique began jumping up and down. "Oh my god! This is so awsome! We get to go to New Orleans!"

"I know! This is so exciting!"

"I wonder if he's..."

The both of them kept talking and giggling, walking towards their rooms to get their things ready, while the others followed behind silently.

Chapter Two: Beautiful Stranger

A lonely man sat on a bar stool in a small tavern on the streets of New Orleans. In his hand he held a small glass of brandy and ice and his head was on the counter, his free arm covering his head. He was trying his best to isolate himself from the rest of the occupants of the room.

No one paid him any mind, but kept to themselves, laughing with friends in a drunken stupor.

The lonely man was having nightmarish day dreams about the life that he had left behind. A beautiful young woman kept flashing through his mind, her curly blond hair hung freely, barely touching her shoulders.

Her laugh was bubbly and sweet, and her smile was breath taking. Her rosy lips always seemed soft and they complimented her fair skin. But above all, was her voice. It seemed to belong to that of an angel's, even when she was yelling. He knew, because it was the last thing he could

remember her doing.

"Remy, what is da mattah wit yah? Yah jus' haven' been da same lately."

"Remy's sorry, Bella. Remy jus' been real tired lately. 'Dis big heist we been plannin' takes so much time and energy."

"Oh, so yah stupid heist is more important dan me? Well then, how 'bout dis den? I nevah wannah see yah again Remy. I hate yah! Get out!..." (A.N. The dialect you see before you is my own colloquial dialect the way you expect certain people to talk for Southerners. I'm very sorry if you feel like I'm stereotyping, and this is not used to offend any one.)

They had been through so much together. Remy was crushed when they split.

"Bella Donna..." he whispered. Her name made him shiver.

Remy remembered the first time they made love. For the first time, he got to feel her soft skin against his completely. Just the feel of her hand made him tingle.

He remembered how careful he had been, for he feared breaking her. She was so dainty and fragile. Sometimes he was afraid to hug her too tightly because he feared that he would shatter her tiny bones.

What he remembered the most, however, was when "I love you" was first said.

They were watching Save the Last Dance and Julia Stiles was explaining why she couldn't stay to watch the ballet. Bella was in Remy's arms and she looked towards him. She stared into his eyes for a second. Remy became lost in them as they sparkled at his. The only reason he regained consciousness was because of what she said.

"I love yah, Remy." She pecked him n the lips, making him smile and his heart sing. He never wanted that moment to end.

That memory was the most hurtful of them all.

Remy began to sob quietly in spite of himself, his body shaking violently as his tears hit the bar counter.

A woman, who's forest green eyes glowed (can you guess who it is?), sat two seats over from Remy. She had been watching his body shake and his tears fall. She had been wondering what could've put that man in such misery.

She stared at him with more sympathy than curiosity, but her curiosity compelled her to know what he was depressed about.

She scooted over to him silently and sat down next to the stranger in need, her bright green hair tumbling over her shoulders. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and in a kind voice, asked if he was all right.

Almost immediately, his head shot up, his bloodshot eyes staring into hers.

As she peered back at the frightened stranger, she began to notice features she felt she had seen vaguely before.

He had a handsome face which no girl could resist (which he probably put to good use). His long auburn hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, with a few loose strands. His muscular build was made obvious by his tight black shirt, which accented his brown trench coat. He had gloves that were missing fingers, which she thought were very strange.

The one thing that jumped out at her the most, however, were his eyes. They glowed red, as if they belonged to a demon hunting for it's next meal, and that's exactly how they made her feel. Like a meal waiting to be pounced. Then, it struck her. She remembered a conversation she had had earlier with a friend.

"Hey Dominique? Did you get a chance to look at that guy's picture?" Jean, Dominique's good friend, seemed uneasy.

"Yeah, I did. What about it?"

"Did you see his eyes? They totally gave me the chills, like they were so creepy."

"Yeah, I did notice them. They made me feel like they were piercing my soul, searching every thought I had, making their way into my memories."

"Oh my God, same here!"

Dominique quickly realized she was sitting next to the very man she came to see.

Remy continued peering at the woman, thinking about who she could possibly be.

Remy's POV –

Who could 'dis woman be? No one would talk to Remy if dey didn't know me, or want sometin'. No one has ever looked out for Remy, and dey sure ain't gonna start now. Remy wonder if de Assassins Guild sent her. Dat's de only explaination for dis. Dey always did have a habit of hirin' beautiful women, but Remy wonders how she got herself mixed in wit dis crowd. Dis is mind bogglin'. And why she keep starin' Remy down? Is she tryin' to figure how to kill Remy?

Remy know one ting for certain: She ain't gon' have time to find ways to kill 'dis Cajun, even if it's de last ting he does.

End POV –

As Dominique continued peering at the stranger, who's name was still unknown to her, he took off running towards the doors of the tavern escaping into the streets of the grand city.