Hey all!

I've decided to actually write at least one humorous necro fic. And here it is! It may just come off as disturbed. *shrugs* Eh, you already now I'm warped. I love the song title, eighty eight lines about fourty four women. I may do fourty four of these, if the mood takes me. Start buying straightjackets now.

***

It had been months since Rogue and Remy had left the institute. They had gotten very close to each other over the years between Remy's joining the X-men, and his leaving with Rogue for a better life. In fact, Remy was planning on asking Rogue to marry him. And Rogue had hinted at the fact that she'd say yes if he asked.

Their lives were very close to perfect. Rogue had undergone a proceedure to rid herself of her powers. She had been very depressed at the time, and warned Remy that she either gained control or killed herself. Remy had handed her the car keys and told her to do which ever made her happier. That night she'd come home and fallen asleep in his arms, tracing his knuckles with her bare thumbs. Since then she'd explored much more than his hands.

In fact, when this story begins, Remy is the one who's exploring. The two of them had always stopped short of actual sex. There were times when they would spend an entire night devoted to each other's pleasure, but they had never gone all the way. Rogue had said she wanted to wait to finish the act for when she was married.

But Remy was having problems stopping himself. Rogue was having problems stopping him as well. The problems mainly stemmed from lack of cognant thought, due to being driven crazy by her lover's actions. Her moans said more than all those days when she swore she'd wait for the man she loved. She wasn't waiting anymore. There was no need.

Remy wasn't exactly lucid himself. Little things were being overlooked in the search to give his woman what he was feeling. It was her first time, sure. But he'd had more than his share of women's first times, and knew how to make this fun for her.

Remy was easing into Rogue, who gasped and moaned, biting her lip. It hurt, but Remy's kiss preoccupied her a bit, and his hands were distracting her enough.

---

Death watched passively. There are few things Death watches impassivley. Death has clinical precision that would put the most focused human to shame. Death was curious about the man about to need the scythe clutched in his skeltal hand. Curiosity was how Death faced many things, as they were usually only understandable from a mortal point of view.

Remy had died and come back in years of service to the X-men. This made Death curious. Not that resurection was all the unfamiliar. Death had seen X-men come back to life. They were always less wary of the Apparition on their way back. But Remy had actually been marked for eternity.

Death remembered walking onto the street and seeing Remy's soul leaning against a wall, smoking an astral cigarette and shuffling a deck of cards. He already had mastery over the dimenson he was in; which surprised Death, in as much as Death can be surprised.

Remy had given Death a smile that would break hearts, if Death had possesed a heart. His first words had been, "So, Mort, y' comin' t' take me t' a better place?"

The Apparition had told Remy that Death had no idea what the afterlife looked like. Remy shrugged, admitting that he was ignorant of the afterlife as well, laughing. _Laughing_. Death had been curious. But Death could see the look in the man's eyes. He was going to challenge Death to a game of chess or something similar for his life.

Remy had begun flipping a card through his fingers and asked if Death knew how to play poker. Death had seen a few games in his time, usually before someone welched on a bet at the wrong time. Death knew very well how to get killed when you're a few hundred short, but not the general rules of the game. Remy watched Grim shake his head with a very wide grin.

Remy had then gone through the formal request process, and then been allowed to play poker for his life. Remy won with an amazing hand.

---

Remy was sure Rogue could handle anything he tried now. She had even been close to an orgasm, which had surprised him. But when he tried to push it, Rogue had told him to stop. Not the embarrassed, 'I've just lost my virginity a little before schedule', stop he had been expecting, but a lustful, 'I don't mean stop completely, I mean stop doing that because I'm not quite ready yet'. So Remy had complied. He was now very close to an orgasm. His left arm had started hurting him a few minutes ago, so he was presed flat against Rogue, taking the pressure off his protesting limb.

Rogue felt his body jerk, burrying him deeper into her. She gasped and cried out a little, but it was more surprise than pain.

Remy smirked down at. . .the back of his own head. Not again.

"Y' got de wors' timein', Mort." Remy said sulkily, shoving his hands into his newly formed trenchcoat pockets. Death didn't deign that with a response. "Y' could 'a' waited f'r when it wouldn' scare m' chere."

As if in response, Rogue pushed Remy off and out of her, a little disturbed by his stillness. She saw his face, still orgasmic. But his body had stopped. In fact, he had stopped in general. Rogue checked his pulse, put her face in front of his mouth, trying to feel any sign of life. Then she tried to resusitate him.

Remy watched her working at saving his life. "Deja vu, huh?"

"i believe that would be the phrase." Death said, nodding. Remy noticed that Death's voice was different from when he'd died in battle.

"Voice respond t' de violence of m' deat'?" Remy asked Grim, taking his eyes off his body. It would keep without him.

"yes. it does. what delightful trick are you going to play on me this time to regain your life?"

"Y' play pool?"

---

Rogue stood in front of the assembly. One side was full of theives and assasins. The former to pay their respects, the later to make sure he was really dead. Belladonna had even brought tools to remedy the situation if he wasn't.

The other side was full of X-men. Even half the Brotherhood had shown up. John was melodramaticially yelling over Remy's body. Mystique was watching the body, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

Rogue cleared her throat, calling eveyone's attention to her. The distraught euligiezer took a drink of something brown and strong smelling (her third shot of it in almost ten minutes). She didn't stutter or slur her speach, even though, by rights, she shouldn't have been able to stand up.

"We'ah all gathahed here today ta say good bye ta mah. . .consort, Remy Etienne LeBeau. Some of ya will be sad fo'a while that he's gone, and some of ya will be dancin' on his grave until the graveyard closes."

A hoot from the direction of one fo the younger assasins distracted the eulogy. He was soon smacked by his mother and the ceremony continued.

"Ah guess, what Ah really want ta say is, that Remy died doin' somethin' he loved. Me. Yep. Remy got exactly what he wanted, in the end." Rogue stepped out from behind the podium and went to the casket. "Remy, sugah, ya picked a piss po' time ta have a heart attack."

There was coughing, and the sound of Mystique gritting her teeth filled the room. Soon everyone around her was running for the 'bathroom', and Raven was smiling sadistically at Remy's coffin.

Rogue walked over to her mother, sat down, and proceeded to vomit, cry, and scream, all at once. Needless to say, things started to finish up aorund then.

---

Remy looked at the balls. They were perfectly aligned. He could make this shot! Remy grinned at Death, and proceeded to make the cleanest, nicest, prettiest finishing move of his career. Death watched, noting that Remy had, once again, won.

Death made no sound, but picked up his scythe, looking at Remy carefully. "i will need to hit you around the chest, or you'll just be back here in an hour when your heart fails again. hold still."

Remy did as he was told, barely flinching when the scythe ran through his body, handle first. Remy did, however, have his eyes shut tight.

When Remy opened his eyes, he couldn't really tell. There was positively no light where he was. It smelled horrible. Of course it did, it had, until then, contianed a dead body. Remy suddenly realized he'd taken too long to beat Death. He was already buried. Sound from a stereo on top of his grave carried down, and Remy tried to get out of his coffin. The song was accompanied by the thuds from people danicng.

"Great, I'm stuck in a damn box, people 'r' dancin' on me, an' I HATE DIS SONG!"

***

Happy Halloween again!

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Peace and Love,

Panther Nesmith