Disclaimer: Don't wanna come up with something, wanna write the story!

A/N: Anybody see that coming last chapter? No? Bet ya didn't. Bet ya thought this was gonna be another cute li'l ROMY story, lots of fluff, and no action.

Well, yeah, mostly that's true. Mostly.

HA! NO! There will be action!

But first there will be lots of fluffy probably.

And you start reading… now!

WAIT!

Y' jus' can' go wit'ou' doin' dat at leas' once per story can y'?

What? This chapter is sad! It keeps me from crying as I write it!

Sure it does, Sheila. When was the last toime ya croied during wroitin' or readin' a fic?

Uhh, reading "Sakura Yume" 39th chapter.

Oh.

Would you two be quiet? You honestly get me into sooo much trouble. I had to go shopping for school clothes recently, and I was reeeealy bored. I wanted to go home and write. So did Indy and Ashy. So we started talking, and I got so many weird looks that day, you'd think I was acting crazy or something!

And now I'm Rambling. Shutting up.

Chapter 1: Marie

She woke up and got out of bed. She got dressed. She didn't eat breakfast. She straightened her hair as straight as it would get, and applied the darkest makeup a twenty-three year old could get away with. She put on her gloves. She left the house walking. She walked into the small town and straight to the tiny music store. She slid in behind the counter and slipped her headphones on. Angry rock filled her ears and she relaxed the teeniest bit.

A customer entered and picked out a few things. She rang them up silently, watching as they left her sanctuary. She switched her music selection to country. Mississippi roots don't come up easy.

She took her lunch break at exactly 11:22. She wasn't sure why she'd picked such a nonsensical time, so easy to forget, or slip past, but she had. It brought her some sort of obscure pleasure to be that little bit of difficult. Probably a Rogue thing. Also, he'd always enjoyed being difficult with her.

She changed the music to classical an hour before quitting time.

She went home, sat on her porch and seemingly stared at the sky for a few hours. She ate a very small dinner, then went up to bed.

Her normal routine for the last six months was complete. Occasionally, she would break, and go for a flight. Or, she would go pick a fight with a gator. That was always fun.

She'd cried for ages. She'd curl up in his trench coat which he had packed in his bag for the trip. She'd breath in the smell of him, still not faded after months without him there to sustain it, and she'd cry. She cried her eyes out, wanting him. He'd been there for so long, she'd forgotten what it was like to live without him. She decided that she didn't like being reminded. So she had stopped crying, for the most part. Granted, she had a habit of wearing his shirts all the time, and hugging his trench coat at night, but she didn't break down at the least little thing anymore. She'd begun to take back herself. She got angry, angry at whoever had ruined her wedding night, and deprived her of the love of her life.

Marie wasn't depressed. The X-Men all thought she was, but she wasn't really. Her hours of meaningless sky-gazing were actually filled with attempting to find Remy through their empathic link. She refused to believe he was dead. She could feel his life force. She just couldn't get a read on his location. She wasn't depressed, she was trying to find her husband! She'd come home when he did, and she wasn't going to go to counseling or some other such stupid thing. She didn't need counseling, she needed Remy, dang it!

And she would get him back. Someday.

She awoke in a cold sweat on his twenty-sixth birthday. They'd been married for six and a half months, and they'd gotten to enjoy about twenty minutes of it. The wedding reception didn't count. It wasn't exactly enjoyable when all she wanted to do was be alone with her Cajun. And she'd gotten that.

For twenty minutes.

She hated that. A lot.

Her nightmare came back to her with an insensible amount of fear. Strapped to a table, having bright lights shined in her eyes, why did it hurt so bad? It was just a light. Her eyes weren't that light sensitive. She couldn't move, couldn't get up, couldn't do anything but try not to scream and fail because, the Devil take it, she hurt! Pain, everywhere, aching, both physical and mental. Physically, she was being shocked electrically, and having her eyes poked (what was up with her eyes?). Mentally, struggling, hoping that someone would hear her cry for help and come. Praying, praying so hard that she was alright, and that she would see her again… see her belle green eyes, watch them flash when she made her mad, play with her hair, her lovely, curling hair that only she got to see… wait.

Her eyes widened. Her green eyes. Her non-sensitive eyes.

She wasn't having a nightmare. She was living Remy's waking one. He was hurt, needing help and he needed her. Where…

She got a flash, a brief image that gave her chills, of a sickly looking man with a bald head who was wearing a lab coat. He smiled. She didn't like his smile. That smile meant pain. A thought ran through her mind: coordinates. She needed coordinates. And probably back-up as well.

The X-Men.

Marie smiled. This smile was fierce. This smile meant danger.

Heads were going to roll.

She flew out the next day dressed in her uniform. She'd had both of theirs shipped to her a few months ago.

New York was only hours away. She would take a break halfway there. And then she'd be on her way. On her way to the X-Men, where she belonged.

And on her way to Remy's side, where she was supposed to be.

A/N: Here we go people.

Marie is mad. Really mad. And just for the record? Her name is Rogue to everyone except for Remy. He is the only one who ever called her that, and even her nametag at work read "Rogue." That is her name unless you're Remy.

Le's go, people!

Fo' once, Indy agrees wit' de garcon. Let's go! Nex' chapter!