Once Remy walked into the canteen, he saw Lucas sitting at a table, alone. The locals cast distrustful glances at him, which he endured with stoicism. If Lucas was uncomfortable with the attention he received, didn't show it beyond his usual grumpy face.

He dragged the chair across the floor, trying to be annoying with the noise, and set the bottle down on the table.

" So, you haven't found mates for a game of poker?" he asked.

"I told you I wasn't the best suited for that task, LeBeau," Bishop gestured around him. "They don't want me here, I doubt they want to gamble with me."

"Then let's drink, mon ami," Remy replied, filling both their glasses.

"What about your partner?" Lucas asked nodding to Rogue who was waiting, alone as well, for her dinner to be served.

"She's not my partner... " He explained dismissively, waving his hand. "She works for Mystique or she used to and she's going to turn Creed in, to me."

"Do I want to know how you got to that point?" his friend asked with curiosity.

"She conned me, I busted her and we have a deal, her life for Creed, sort of," Remy said, wary of thinking too hard about the truth of a deal she didn't have much of a choice about and had never explicitly said she agreed to.

"She conned you? You, who is the king of chicanery?" Bishop raised an eyebrow skeptically and sketched a cocked smile.

"I mean she's pretty," Remy replied by way of defense. He glanced over at the table she was sitting at, Rogue drumming her fingers, looking distractedly toward the kitchen door. He smiled and shrugged. "She's very pretty," he joked with a chuckle as he sipped from his glass.

"Oh so is that..." Lucas replied, raising his eyebrows and smiling knowingly.

"It's not THAT, we never..." Remy defended himself. He didn't even want to think about the weird kiss they shared. He'd driven it out of his head. It was nothing but another one of her delusions. Even if he couldn't make sense of how it all happened. "Look Lucas, I like the ranch life, it's quiet, it's easy, but the horses and dogs don't offer much talk. And she came along and she's smart." He explained. Smart enough to fool him. He looked back at Rogue. The bartender brought the meal. He watched her taste the dish and make a disgusted face, but when the man looked at her she smiled and gave a thumbs up. Rogue turned away and covered her face with one hand, with a grimace disguising a smile. And he could do nothing but smile too. "And funny and there's something about her..."

"Oh, it's certainly that, LeBeau," Lucas interrupted, staring at him with a huge grin on his face. Well, who was he kidding? Bishop had always been very perceptive. "Either way she seems nice to me," Bishop added.

"Yeah, she is, with anyone but me" Remy complained grumpily. He stretched out his legs and leaned against the back of the chair.

"Have you lost your touch with the ladies? Now that's something I didn't think would happen," Lucas said, raising his glass for a toast.

"I had to fail someday, non?" he replied, clinking his glass. There was nothing more honorable than admitting a defeat.

When Lucas went to sleep, he found himself sitting next to Rogue who was still turning over her dinner. She looked up from her dish and widened her eyes, exaggerating a horrified expression.

"Maybe I should let him spit on my plate, maybe it will make it better," she said looking at the innkeeper who was arguing with someone across the inn.

"Would you like some relish?" Remy asked offering her the whiskey. "I don't think it will make it worse."

"No thanks, I prefer to keep a clear mind," Rogue replied tapping her temple.

"That's lucky, I prefer it numb" he replied mimicking her gesture. He smiled trying to erase how depressing his comment had sounded and she smiled back.

"So you don't have migraines, they're hangovers huh Sugah?" she asked resting her chin on her hand.

"Better an early morning headache than a sleepless night. I guess?" he chuckled lightly making the same gesture as she did.

"I don't know..." she muttered changing her casual pout to a serious one.

"Anyway, I've got your witchcraft potion."

"Excuse me?" she asked raising an eyebrow, her expression somewhere between curious and defensive. Like she was getting ready to attack.

Remy reached into his pocket and showed her the small pot with the dragon drawn on it in the palm of his hand.

"Only a witch would make dragon potions," he added with a smile as he saw the tension disappear from her shoulders.

Rogue stroked the dragon with her fingertips and sketched a small smile. She looked up and stared at him.

"Do you want to hear a silly story?" Rogue asked, she glanced at him like she expected an answer, so he nodded and she bit her lower lip. "In the spinning mill if we didn't manage to finish the assignments, sometimes we had to work all night. And to keep us from falling asleep on the looms, we sang or told stories. Rabbit loved to tell stories, she was so good at it," Rogue laughed and smiled absently. "She used to make voices and noises. Her favorite tales were about warrior princesses that turned into magical dragons who saved people... " she gave a long sigh. "I believe she told us one about a Chinese empress who escaped from her palace every night forty times..." Remy didn't know what to say, it was disturbing picturing her as a little girl enthralled with princess tales, trying not to fall asleep in the machinery of a factory. It was sordid. Still, he was moved that she shared that story with him. "And a year ago, I saw this Chinese girl selling elixirs with her family..." Rogue laughed in embarrassment and picked up the little pot and showed it to him. "It has a dragon on it... it reminded me of my friends and I thought maybe it was a sign... and maybe Rabbit was in a better place. But I was wrong, such stupidity, isn't it? I guess I'm an idiot." She put the pot back in his hand and let out a nervous chuckle.

"I don't think that's stupid, Rogue," he whispered making a motion to grab her hand. But she pulled away and shoved her hands in the pockets.

"Yes it is, I should know better. That bullshit makes you weak," she muttered without looking away from the lotion. "Moma says it all the time and she's right."

Remy tried his luck "Did your mother send you to work at the factory?" he asked, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle Rogue was.

"No."

The tone of her answer puzzled him and she seemed to notice.

"No," she repeated softening her tone. "She's not as horrible as you think. She saved me and she didn't have to... I owe her everything." Rogue bit her lips. He didn't know if she was mad at him or just angry. "I know she' s cruel and she's done horrible things...but I can't..." Her eyes became watery. He had struck a chord, Rogue looked hurt and on edge. And he didn't want to see her like that. "I can't betray her, after all that she has done for me."

Rogue stopped talking, just clenched her fists, and stared at the ground. Tapping her foot against the ground, shaking her leg nervously, he tried to reach out to her, but if he touched her, she would probably move away.

"I get that, you can't figure out how many times I got into fistfights to defend my mother," Remy told her and leaned against the back of the chair and drank from his glass. "I was an angry kid and mom was so sweet, always saying...mon coeur, tu n'as pas à te battre..." He tried to make it sound casual, but the memory of his mother kissing his bruises and stroking his hair as she sang to him was sad. " As if she didn't have enough problems without having to deal with her punk son." Remy refilled the cup with the last remaining bit in the bottle, but before drinking, Rogue took the whiskey from his hand and drank it.

"You don't need to numb that, Remy. I'm sure she was proud of you. I'm sure she still is, you're a good man," she said with a tenderness that touched him. Remy placed his hand over hers who grimaced in disgust as she finished the drink.

" Oh, Sugah this tastes awful," he mumbled setting the glass down on the table.

Remy burst out laughing. " Yeah, you're right."

" Oh god, gross," she insisted sticking her tongue out and shaking her head.

" You're overreacting, chère," He scoffed and Rogue looked at him squinting.

"Be thankful I didn't spit on you," He was about to make a facetious comment about that, but she held up her finger and as if she had read his mind, blushed. "Don't you dare say that."

Remy held up his hands, he was innocent of any charge and she gave him a light shove.

"You're the worst..." Rogue muttered taking a long drink of water. She shifted in her chair to move closer to the fireplace and he mimicked her movement.

They talked for hours until Rogue started to doze off and lay her head on her arms, trying not to fall asleep while they talked. But she wasn't succeeding.

"Time for bed, huh?" he whispered getting to his feet.

"Yeah," she mumbled closing her eyes.

Remy headed for the stairs but stopped halfway down. He sighed and rested his hand on the railing. He brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose. And turned back.

"You don't have to sleep on a table, chère, there are two beds in the room, hay mattresses may not be the best, but it sure beats sleeping sitting on a piece of wood" he commented tapping her shoulder to get her attention. Rogue seemed to hesitate, so he turned around ready to leave again.

"Okey..." she replied, at last, standing up and walking after him.

The room wasn't particularly large, with barely enough space for the two mattresses, a chair, and a small table with a basin. Remy closed the window and as he turned around saw her plop down on the mattress and a delighted sound flee from her lips.

"I told you so," Remy remarked watching her settle on the bed in a cat-like style.

"You love being right, don't you?" Rogue asked opening an eye and smiling cheekily.

"I have a sneaking suspicion I'm not the only one in this room" Remy replied taking off his jacket and laying it on the chair, he did the same with his vest, belt, and boots. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and continued to remove his clothes.

Until he heard her exclaim a gasp.

"Oh dear lord. Who did that to you, Sugah?" she asked in alarm, he turned to look at her. She was sitting on the mattress, her face red up to her ears and her expression was a mixture of worry and panic. And that's when he realized he was half naked. And he put his shirt back on.

"It's just an old scar," he commented as he fastened the buttons.

"I'm sorry, none of my business," Rogue whispered throwing the blanket over herself, lying back on the bed facing him.

"It's okay," he replied laying down on his mattress. "I think we all have them, don't we?"

She nodded and closed her eyes and realized that he was really tired too.

"Remy...Remy... Come on cowboy, wake up."

He woke up sweating, his heart beating out of control. Rogue was next to him, wearing a worried expression.

"Are you okay? You were screaming" she whispered pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Nothing embarrassing I hope" he joked, but his heart didn't want to go back to its usual rhythm.

Rogue sighed and lay down with him, pulling him into a protective embrace. She caught him so off guard that Remy stood still, afraid that any movement could pull her away. He didn't even want to talk.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head on her chest.

" See, getting drunk doesn't seem like such a bad idea now, chère, " he whispered gently slipping his arm around her waist. She winced and her heart began to beat frantically.

Rogue placed a hand on his cheek."We should sleep," she whispered caressing him. He closed his eyes and snuggled against her. Thinking maybe he was just dreaming.