Disclaimer: X-Men are not mine, geez, writing this is so tedious…

Epilogue

His crimson on black eyes opened languidly, staring at the red digit clock on the bedside table. He had been sleeping for four hours and felt completely refreshed. But he didn't quite feel like moving yet. In fact, if he had any say in the matter he would remain in this position forever. He felt like the luckiest man alive, he had found his match and she was lying in his arms. He marveled over the tiniest aspects about her that others may deem insignificant, but he dearly treasured. Rogue was a mystery to him, but that was part of the excitement. He loved her temper and passionate nature, how she had the ability to be both strong and fragile… her every move mystified him and left him wanted more. He was never sure if she would return his advances or rebut him. In fact, Remy LeBeau didn't truly know the young woman in his arms, but he was more than will to spend the time and learn. His thumbs tenderly stroked her covered shoulder and leaned closer to her lush body, savoring the smell of her hair. He probably could have spent the entire day watching her, but the object of his attention was waking up and that was always amusing to watch.

Rogue's eyes snapped open, she felt an unusual pleasant warmth surrounding her body. When a warm hand slowly snaked around her covered waist and pulled her body closer to his, Rogue smiled and remembered exactly who she was sleeping with. Letting out a noiseless yawn, she brushed her cheek against her pillow in case she had been drooling before stretching her limbs and purposely smacking Remy with a flailing arm. "Not funny chere," the man grumbled, rubbing his sore nose in protest.

She turned to say something, only realizing when she opened her mouth that her breath was horrible. Rogue immediately closed her mouth and buried her head under her pillow. "Chere, why de sudden modesty," Remy teased, playfully lifting up the corner of her pillow and grinning at her.

"Mah breath stinks," she grumbled and buried herself further under the covers.

Remy began chuckling and rolled off her bed, grabbing his trench coat on the way out. "Well den, Remy'll let y' alone t' take care of dat and he'll come get y' at nine o'clock for our date," he explained, opening the door and stepping into the hallway.

"What date?" Rogue asked incredulously, emerging from her covers abruptly.

"De one at nine o'clock," he grinned and softly closed the door, "see y' den chere."

"Damn cocky Cajun," she muttered and somewhat gracefully climbed out of bed, chancing a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

Rogue held back the scream threatening to burst at the sight of herself. Her hair was matted in thick chunks, her eyes were puffy, and she had hideous pillow creases adorning every angle of her face, not to mention her breath. "Ah'm definitely not in the dream world anymore," she sighed, grabbing her towel and trudging down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later a refreshed, sweet smelling Rogue entered her room clad in a fuzzy robe with a towel wrapped around her head. She slowly sank in front of her mirror, opening her desk drawer of make up. A thin, silver box rested on top of her cosmetics, nestled firmly between the pale as death foundation and bright purple eye shadow. A soft smile slowly spread across her lips as she gingerly lifted the box and opened its lid, there was only one person who would give her a gift like this. Rogue lifted a sheer, black scarf out of the box, marveling at the soft material as it teasingly rested against her hands. A small note fluttered from the scarf, landing neatly on her lap. She quickly opened the note, puzzling over its message:

Bonsoir mon belle Goth,

Hope you enjoy the gift, please wear it for Remy tonight. We're going to dinner and a dance club. Remy can't wait to see what type of sexy outfit you will be wearing.

Remy

P.S. Don't wear any lipstick tonight or it'll ruin the surprise.

"Lipstick… out of all of the things the Cajun tells me not to wear he chooses lipstick," she muttered in confusion until suddenly her eyes opened in realization as her fingers brushed across her lips.

Grinning, Rogue leapt from her desk and hurried to her closet. Tonight, she was going to look so good the smooth-talking Cajun would lose his power of speech.

Lance impatiently drummed his fingers against the plush armchair he was residing in. It had been hours since he last saw Kitty, she had left without telling anyone where she had gone. He had to tell her that he messed up. He really did care for her and still liked her, enough to start seeing each other again, although he wasn't the only one waiting for Kitty Pryde.

Piotr leaned against the doorframe next to the entrance hall. He wanted to thank Kitty for her help and hospitality, and possibly ask her out. However, with her glaring ex-boyfriend residing in the same room within sprinting distance to the front door, he wondered how good his chances were.

When the front door handle began to turn, both boys stiffened and bolted to the opening door, they were in no way prepared for the sight that greeted them. A very drunk Kitty Pryde was whistling a slurred melody as she staggered into the entrance hall. Her groggy vision miscalculated the position of the chair and fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

Lance and Piotr felt their jaws slightly unhinge as they witnessed Kitty's intoxicated scene, neither knowing what to do. When she began giggling uncontrollably, they began to get worried. "Watch your step there luv," an equally drunk man tripped over the rug but surprisingly didn't fall.

Lance darted glances at the drunken Kitty and the drunken older man as the situation became clear to him. "What the hell is your problem?" Lance spat, angrily stepping towards the British man's swaying figure, "getting Kitty drunk and taking advantage of her!"

"Oh sod off," Pete snapped, apparently he wasn't as drunk as he seemed.

He approached Kitty's still giggling figure and hoisted her to her feet, gently brushing his nose against hers as his eyes took a softer look, "I didn't force you to do anything you weren't willing to do, did I Kitty?"

"No," she smiled, swaying closer to his embrace before returning his gaze from under lowered lashes, "I was completely willing."

Lance felt his gut tighten as a slow realization crept over him; he had lost his chance with her. He blew it with the wonderful, smart, funny, sexy Kitty Pryde. "Oh geez, I'm like being rude," Kitty beamed, grabbing Pete's hand and leading him towards the taunt figures of the other boys. "Pete, meet Lance, my ex-boyfriend," Kitty began motioning to Lance, "he dumped me, although I never really understood the reason. And this is Piotr, the first guy to show me any attention since Lance. Boys, this is Pete."

The three males stared at each other in a stony silence, each sizing each other up, believing themselves to be the best man for Kitty. Before the atmosphere could get any more tense, Scott and Jean strolled into the entrance hall, prepared to wait for the professor's late return. "Why are you two still here?" Scott asked angrily at Lance and Piotr before his gaze rested on Pete, "and who are you?"

"Watch your mouth Summers," Lance gritted between his teeth as his eyes took on an dangerous glint, "I know all about your little dream."

Scott's breath hitched and he held onto Jean's hand tightly. Jean rolled her eyes at his actions… like she didn't know why he was so worried about this little secret getting out. "Shut up Lance," Scott glared back, his palms were starting to get sweaty.

"What was his dream about?" Kitty asked curiously, letting out a soft hiccup and nearly losing her balance.

"Are you drunk!" Scott accused as his mind frantically wondered what the professor would think.

"You didn't drive home did you?" Piotr softly asked, worried that his crush had been in danger.

"Nah," Pete replied, smirking at Kitty out of the corner of his eye, "we took a taxi halfway here, but then Kitty randomly phased out of it… so we decided to walk home after that."

"Getting drunk and using your powers in public is against school rules Kitty," Jean scolded; happy that Scott's secret didn't leak out.

"Scott was gay in his dream," Lance blurted and began snickering at Scott's discomfort, "he tried to come on to Fred."

"Like wow," Kitty began giggling, hot tears sliding down her cheeks, "and you know, I talked to Penny about how her dreams work and apparently they like, grant your deepest wish."

Everyone minus Jean and Scott began chuckling, Scott felt the heated blush from rising to his cheeks and Jean was ticked that now her reputation was in danger. "That makes sense," Lance further supported Kitty's explanation, "because Pietro and Wanda reconciled, and I know they always wanted to have closer family ties and Fred was always worried about food."

"Yeah," Kitty murmured, when a puzzling look crossed over her features, "then what happened in Rogue and Gambit's dream?"

At that precise moment the door quickly opened and Gambit strolled into the mansion like he owned the place. "What do you think you're doing?" Scott shouted; his mansion was being flooded with strangers and enemies.

"Bonsoir (Good evening)," Remy casually greeted the whole group before walking over to the stairs shouting, "hurry up chere or y' gonna be late."

When a long string of curses floated down the stairs in an angry Southern accent, Remy smirked, knowing that she got the message. "Um," Kitty began, tugging on Remy's trench coat, "what are you doing?"

"Oh sorry petite," Remy grinned, gallantly kissing her hand, raising an eyebrow at the stench of alcohol emitting from her small body, "Remy LeBeau at y're service. He's here t' take Rogue out."

"What," Jean sputtered, staring at the attractive man in front of her.

How did Rogue get the French-speaking Cajun in the tight dark shirt that displayed his muscled form as well as a sexy trench coat? "X-Men don't date their enemies," she curtly replied, raising her eyebrow at the not so subtle snorting of Kitty and Lance.

"Dat works perfectly den," he smirked, his crimson eyes glittering dangerously, "Remy contacted y' professor today about joining de team and it's official, Remy now be a member of de team."

"Sugah, yah actually joined the team?" Rogue asked surprisingly as she slowly descended the stairs, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"Oui chere, Remy…" his words died on his lips as he beheld her approaching figure.

His scarf was wrapped tightly around her bare neck, resting above the tight, full-sleeved sheer emerald shirt that hugged her gorgeous figure like a second skin. Her brazen, black push-up bra accented her natural curves through the transparent shirt and a tight, black miniskirt tempted her audience with her toned, slender legs encased in sheer, skin-tone stockings with a pair of black, strappy heels. She still wore her regular Goth makeup and left her streaked hair down, but one aspect was missing, she wasn't wearing any lipstick.

A smug smile graced her pouty lips as she stopped in front of the speechless Cajun, mission accomplished. "Rogue," Kitty broke the silence, "you look amazing."

Amazing, was in fact, an understatement. Kitty couldn't remember ever seeing Rogue look so happy, she was literally beaming. She was actually smiling, confident, and Kitty was happy for her. "Thanks Kitty," Rogue winked, turning her attention to the speechless Cajun.

Softly closing his gaping mouth, Rogue leaned towards her date, teasing, "So Remy are we going to dinner or just gonna stand here, cause Ah'm famished."

Remy still remained silent as he gazed at her in awe, tilting his head slightly to the side as if that would improve his chances of looking up her short skirt. "Of course chere," Remy finally managed to find his voice, gallantly holding out his arm as they walked to the exit.

The group watched in confusion as the couple closed the front door behind them. Through her drunken haze, Kitty's heart leapt for joy at Rogue's good fortune. She somehow always knew her best friend was a confident flirt under all that makeup and glares. And to think it only took a persistent Cajun to crack open her shell.

"That's something you don't see everyday," Lance muttered, grabbing his coat and heading to the door.

It was late, he was tired, confused, and frustrated. Muttering a quick goodbye and sending a lingering glance at Kitty on his way out, he prepared himself for the lonely drive back to the boarding house.

"Vell, I must be going as vell," Piotr murmured and placed a soft kiss on Kitty's hand, "Tank you Katya for helping me. Maybe I could interest you in a coffee sometime?"

"I'd like that," Kitty smiled and waved to his retreating form as he exited the mansion.

"Oh, I see how it is," Pete started accusingly, raising his voice in mock anger, "use me for my Scotch and then ditch me for another."

Kitty rolled her eyes at his theatrics and grabbed his hand, leading him up the stairs. "We like, never decided to be mutually exclusive, as a matter of fact, we have yet to go on a real date. You still owe me a decent meal."

"What's wrong with Scotch?" he teased, bringing a cigarette to his lips, preparing to light it.

Kitty immediately swatted the cigarette out of his lips, crushing it in her hand, "I told you to stop smoking these things; they are like ingesting poison into your system. Now stop whining, I'm showing you to your room."

Jean and Scott watched the puzzling display of affection between the couple until they disappeared from sight. Suddenly feeling bored and miserable, Jean pulled her hand out of Scott's confining grip and headed upstairs to give herself a facial. Scott solemnly watched his girlfriend's retreating figure sadly and sunk into a chair, prepared to wait up for the professor.

The two Southerners silently strolled into the mansion's garage, wondering which vehicle to borrow for the night. Remy halted in front of a sleek, black motorcycle, running his gloved fingers across its smooth surface. "Remy," Rogue warned, guiding his hand off of the bike, "that's Logan's bike."

"Chere, we're just borrowing it, he'll never know," he replied.

"He'll smell us on it," Rogue muttered, knowing the consequences of taking the bike and yet yearning to experience the feeling riding it.

Remy merely shrugged in response and steered her towards the bike. "Remy, Ah said no, Ah wouldn't do that to Logan," Rogue snapped and planted her feet firmly on the ground.

"It's just for one night. Why are y' picking dis Logan over Remy," he snapped back as his blood began to boil, only Rogue could get under his skin like this.

"Why are yah getting all defensive and jealous?" she argued back, her chest rapidly rising and falling in excitement, she loved fighting with him.

Remy scoffed and angrily crossed his arms in annoyance, "Remy's not jealous," he muttered, realizing how utterly beautiful she looked when she was angry.

"You're being childish," Rogue scolded, a teasing light entering her eyes, "Ah need a man to keep me satisfied Sugah and if you're not man enough to rise to the challenge…"

Rogue's words died off when Remy approached her, a dark, challenging look in his eye. "Is dat a challenge?" he whispered, stopping so that their bodies lightly brushed against each other, their passionate glares interlocking.

"Yes it is…" Rogue smiled and playfully tickled the side of his stomach.

A mischievous grin spread over Remy's face as he drew her into a tight embrace, murmuring into her hair, "Remy loves dese fights of ours. It makes y' look all flustered and sexy."

"Ah know what yah mean," Rogue whispered back, gently running her gloved fingers over his sculpted lips, "Remy it just isn't fair, Ah want to touch yah again."

A sly look crossed his face and he began loosening the scarf from her neck, softly asking, "Are y' ready for dat surprise Remy promised?"

Rogue's hands darted to her neck, holding the remainder of the scarf in place, afraid to let any bare skin show. Remy watched her reaction with sad eyes; they still had a long way to go together before they were more comfortable with each other. "Did it ever occur t' y' chere why Remy bought dis particular material?" he softly questioned, smoothing the soft material along her jaw.

"A few thoughts came to mind," Rogue admitted, closing her eyes in pleasure, imagining it was his bare fingers that were stroking her that way.

Smirking at her response, Remy lowered the soft material over her lips and briefly kissed her through the thin material. Rogue opened her eyes in astonishment, the cloth prevented her mutation from hurting Remy and it was so thin it almost felt like his bare lips.

Grinning in excitement, she unwound more of the scarf from her neck and placed the material over Remy's lips before threading her fingers through his thick hair and pulling his mouth roughly over hers. Rogue took control of the kiss, slanting her mouth in order to feel his whole mouth against hers. She began gently nibbling on his lower lip, thrusting her body against his; a heated need had spread over her entire body.

Remy groaned against her teasing mouth, pulling her even tighter against his lean body. As he deepened the kiss, he lifted her body and slowly slid her down his body, slightly pausing when her womanhood touched his stiff arousal. The couple slowly broke away from their kiss panting with swollen lips and tousled hair. Remy leaned down to resume the kiss when she held up her fingers to his mouth in protest. "Whatever happened to the dinner yah promised me?" she coyly asked.

"Y' still thinking of dinner?" Remy asked incredulously and tried to think of cold showers, "y're a tease."

"Me," she smirked, leaning towards him and trailing her hand down his chest, across his belly and stopping mere centimeters away from his hard member, "a tease… never."

Smirking at her game Remy lifted her gloved hand, placing a soft kiss on her palm, pulling her closer as he whispered in her ear, "Y' don't know what y're getting into chere. Seduction is Remy's territory."

Grinning at him, she licked her lips, "Bring it on Cajun."

Chuckling at her he scooped her into his arms and placed her on Logan's bike, lightly kissing the side of her neck through the scarf, murmuring, "We'll see who wins chere. By de end of de night I'll have y' pinned against the wall, moaning and thrusting into my hand."

Rogue shivered in delight when his hands slowly slid up her legs, stopping at the hem of her skirt as his lean fingers crept towards her inner thighs. Realizing that he once again used "I", she grinned in satisfaction and motioned for him to get on the motorcycle, she loved having this type of power over him. Rogue was looking forward to this night even more and couldn't wait till it began.

Chuckling at her eager agreement, he slid in front of her, jerking when her smooth legs wrapped around his waist and pulling herself up against his body, intimately pressing her hot center against the back of his trench coat as she lightly bit his shoulder, urging him to start the bike. Remy seductively smirked as he started the bike and revved out of the garage. Tonight marked the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

One hour later the remaining students and teachers entered the X-mansion, most heading up to their rooms leaving only Logan, the professor, and Scott remaining in the entrance hall. "Logan, please use your heightened senses to make sure everything is fine," the professor politely asked before turning his attention to Scott who seemed desperate to discuss something with him.

Logan sniffed the air around him and his eyes widened in shock, there were so many different scents circling this place it was overwhelming his senses. After dismissing the old scents and those who had left the mansion, four surprising new scents affronted his sensitive nose. Kitty, the little half-pint, was completely plastered. Her scent mixed with that of… Scotch… lingered throughout the entire entry hall. He quickly tracked her scent to her door and a slight smile tugged his lips as loud, drunken snores echoed from her bedroom. Logan continued his trek down the hall and stopped at the guest room, the new scent he located was currently residing in this room. Once Logan was satisfied that this guest Charles had told him about was indeed in his own room, a dark eyebrow arched in surprise at the man's fondness for alcohol and smoking… he may have just found himself a drinking buddy.

Taking care of those scents he hurried downstairs to spend the most time on the scent he was most worried about, his favorite pupil, Rogue. As he descended the stairs his sensitive hearing picked up the remaining of the conversation between the professor and Scott.

"Professor I really need you to do this for me. I'm your best student and have always supported you. If this leaks out any further my entire leadership status would be at stake," Scott pleaded from his knelt position in front of the professor.

"Scott," the professor began, "erasing peoples minds is no small favor… but because it's for you, I will gladly be of assistance."

"Oh thank you professor," Scott nearly cried in grief, desperately clinging onto the professor in a tight hug.

"Now go to bed, everything will be forgotten in the morning," the professor smiled, watching Scott leave, patiently waiting for Logan to reveal himself, "I trust Logan that you will ignore that conversation as I have ignored your secret stash of alcohol on school property."

Logan merely grunted in response and watched the professor glide away before continuing his "sniff patrol". He wanted to know why Rogue's scent was mixed with Gambit's. He didn't care that as of today, that dirty Cajun had joined their ranks. He was slightly suspicious of Gambit's reasons for joining the team, and Logan had a gnawing suspicion it had to deal with Rogue. He continued to track their scents out of the mansion into the garage. Upon entering the large vehicle storehouse, he nearly gagged from the powerful scent of lust in the room. His eyes narrowed at the empty spot where his favorite bike normally rested. He started grinding his teeth together in fury, the scent was extremely powerful in this spot. "The Cajun did something to Rogue… on my bike…," he ground out through his gnashing teeth, fully aware that Rogue did nothing to stop him, "early danger room practices… for the rest of their lives."

A devious plan began to form in Logan's mind and a smug smirk quirked his lips in amusement. Wouldn't it be perfect to catch the couple in the act of returning his bike? Now grinning, he walked over to the fridge and reached for a cold beer, twisting off the cap and guzzling half the bottle. He calmly walked over to the workbench and pulled the stool to the middle of the garage where his bike normally rests. He settled himself comfortably into the seat and waited. He pulled a cigar out of his jacket and patiently lit it, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out softly. Taking a slow sip of his beer, Logan smiled in satisfaction; there was nothing better than drinking a cold beer, smoking a good cigar, and personally ripping the head off of a horny Cajun. Yep, it was going to be a good night.

A/N: I think all stories should involve Logan, he makes the scenes so much more fun. Well, that's it, the actual end... maybe... If I get really inspired, I might just write what happens at the club between Rogue and Remy, but I don't know if I'd make it a lemon or not... suggestions would be very appreciated. However, I'm also working on 2 new Romy stories... but they're no where near done, so who knows when I'll have them published. Anyway, thanks to all you have reviewed, I especially liked the long, lengthy reviews from a few of you, some of them made me laugh out loud. Until next time.