I'm lower class and don't own this. Please don't sue.

There once was an incredible story, a love story of sorts. A southern love story filled with the heat and passion of a southern summer. There was sweat and there was lace, there was perfume and there was the wafting smoke that only a sultry fire can create. There was once Rogue and there was once Remy.

Cajun Blood.

"Don't tease me, Cheri, you know what you want from me." A man drawls in southern comfort, sitting lenient on his well-worn leather couch, a chalice of claret liquid breathing in his bowled vessel. His left foot rests slightly on the polished brass edge of an heirloom glass table.

"It's that Cajun blood you've got, Remy." She looks at him in such a sensual way that the warm southern night cannot claim the salty drip forming on Remy's hairline and slowly descending along his high cheeks to drop of his stubble adorned chin, leaving a wet trail.

"What can I say about my Cajun blood?" He swallows hard, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing slightly, almost begging to be bitten on. "It runs hot." He smiles his come hither smile. "It's got a spice of it's own." He'd rise to greet her soft, supple and sweetly southern body, at least he'd like to but he can't. Not in those pants and not with the sway of those well formed hips.

She places a finger upon his lips to silence him, giving him the barest peek of what a humid night does to black lace on a moist body. The auburn curls mingling with the damp sweat of her body graces his neck as she places her lips to his.

"Marie?" Something, someone calls her name. "Marie?" The second beckoning drawing her away from her desperately fading memory as she opens her deep green eyes to the sterile lab she finds herself in. She remembers why she came here now, the thought of Remy washes over her as she fights herself to bring her wandering mind into control.

"You really should have announced your arrival, child." A gray skinned man comes into focus. "I arrived in time to disable my… pets." Pets he calls them, the vile mass of mutated and barely sentient human forms, no doubt of his own work and research. "Why do you come?"

"I have what you wanted from Gambit, now give me what I need to cure him." She springs to her feet, albeit a bit wobbly. "That was the deal."

"Ahh, yes." Sinister, the gray skinned man with a voice of timeless English and grating metal smirks as he rubs his bearded chin. "You see my dear, these papers, I presume you mean these papers, were my bargain for Remy. As I have these now, and I thank you, my bargain with you must be different." He shakes his head almost in pity. "You didn't think I could do this for everyone, did you? I'm not a charity."

"Why you snake in the grass!" She spits as she prepares to fight him, only to be stopped by a wave of Sinister's hand as it weighs down on her windpipe.

"My dear girl," He hisses as he draws her face to his. "First, here you are powerless, second this is now way to thank your host and third, your comparison is incorrect. You knew what I was before you came to burden me." He releases her with a final squeeze and then a push.

"Then what do you want to save him?" She questions as he regains her breath. "I'll do anything to save him."

"The child." Sinister looks at her, his eyes glowing red and his voice deepens to a low, menacing growl.

"What?" She asks shocked as she holds her bruised throat.

"Don't play games with me, girl. You heard what I want from you." He changes his tone to something of a mellow nonchalant. "Get her and save him."

"Scott and Jean would never let you have their daughter!" She tries to scream, but all she can manage is a hoarse whisper. She still cannot get her legs to work under her, perhaps she can't get enough oxygen to power them, and perhaps he managed to break something.

"Silly girl, your legs are fine, but I'll repair you for no cost, and you'll save Remy, for the child." He smiles as he approaches with a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Ether you give her to me and know definitively where she is, or I take her and no one save myself ever sees her again."

She gasps as the liquid is plunged into the base of her neck. "Why do you want her?"

"Stupid child." He mocks. "She is only half of what I want and my motives aren't for you to question." He sighs and helps her up, wiping away her pain filled tears almost fatherly. "Now be a good daughter –in- law and do as father says, if you ever want to have again the type of dream you dreamt in my halls today as you lay dieing."

"I don't get you." She tells him as she starts to gingerly walk away. "And I won't do it. Remy would rather die than harm that child." She sneers over her shoulder.

"He very well may." Sinister laughs at Rogue. "You are going the wrong way, you'll have to come back by me." He looks at her as though almost in second thought. "Bring me him, and Ms. Grey. I may be able to heal them both."

"Both?" She looks the monster square in the eye. "What do you mean both?" She questions as goose bumps pimple her skin as she feels nothing but cold emanate off this man's skin.

"My dear, I do have my legacy to keep." He smiles at her as he steps aside. Nothing about this man is ever strait forward, he doesn't really lie; so much as he misleads the truth.

"How can you be so cold?" She shivers at his words, his demeanor, and the very air of malevolence about him.

"I believe I've been generous to an intruder at my home." He tells her as a flash of light envelops her, filling her eyes with the bright luminescence of all colours blended into one. Slowly to her, but instantaneously, blue and green come to focus as she finds herself in the gardens under a bright red and yellow leafed apple tree.

"Marie?" Something, someone calls out to her. A strong northern voice carrying the crunch of the northern winter and northern snows with it. "Marie?" It calls out again, as gently as a snowflake and as melting as the tiny crystal as it lands on a wet, hot tongue.

"Logan?" She wakes in a start. "What happened?"

"We know what you had to do for Remy, it was a small price." He tells her as the chilly late fall air starts to bore through the thin jacket she wears. The frost had cloaked her form, but left her shadow adorning the ground. "Did he give you the cure?

"No, Logan." Her very words freezing her to her core. "What I gave him isn't what he wants anymore."