Chapter Eighteen:


"Réveillez-vous, le bel..."

Rogue stirred slightly in her sleep, rolling over in her bed and blinking into the darkness of her room. A pair of gleaming red eyes stared back at her, and she yawned softly. "Remy?" she asked sleepily. "That you?"

"Yeah, chere," he whispered back. "It's Remy."

"What are ya doin' here?" she asked groggily, blinking so that she could see him better. In the dark of her room, his face was bathed in shadows, but she could make out the outline of a broad grin on his handsome features.

"Wanted t' show you somet'ing, p'tite," he answered softly. "Come on outta dere from under does covers. Remy got somet'ing he want you t' see."

What is up with that boy and waking us up in the middle of the night?! Carol demanded sleepily, her tone beyond irritated.

Rogue groaned and yanked up her mental shields, building a wall between her and Carol. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with the other girl right then. As soon as she had blocked Carol out, she looked up at Remy. "Can't it wait till mornin', sugar?" she asked with another yawn. "It's the middle o' the night. Ah'm exhausted."

"You be glad, chere," Remy told her with a cocky smile. "You got my word on dat."

"Remy," she protested hoarsely. "Ah'm tired. Ah don't feel like-"

"Please, chere?" he asked, flashing her a ridiculously charming smile that made her resolve melt. The kind of smile that ought to be made illegal. "It mean a lot t' me if you do."

Groaning, Rogue threw back her sheets in resignation and swung her legs over the side of her bed. "Where are we goin'?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Outside, on de beach," Remy answered, offering his hand to help her up. She glanced down, just to be sure she had her gloves on, then let him pull her to her feet. "It be quicker if we go out de window," he told her. "You can float yo'self down, right, girl?"

Rogue nodded sleepily.

"Good," Remy said, and with that he slipped out the second-story window. Rogue blinked, startled, and hurried over to peer outside just in time to see him drop lightly to the ground. "You comin', chere?" he called up with a grin.

He would make a horrible X-man, Rogue grumbled to herself as she climbed out onto the roof. Logan would go nuts tryin' t' keep him locked in at night.

Sighing, she stepped off the roof and let herself float gently down to the ground, her bare feet touching down on the warm sand. Remy had moved down closer to the water, and was staring out at the ocean, his back to her.

Rogue paused for a moment, watching him stand there before the dark, rolling waves, the slight breeze ruffling his hair ever so faintly, and it brought a small smile to her lips.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she half-walked, half-floated over to him, and called softly, "What are we doin' out here anyway, swamp rat?"

"You 'member how earlier you said you wished dat you'd gotten t' dance at dat crazy dance yo' school had?" Remy asked, turning to face her, and only now did she notice that he wasn't wearing his normal sleep clothes, but his uniform, which appeared almost black in the dark of the night.

"Remy, what-" she began, confused.

"Y'said dat you wan' dance," Remy said with a roguish grin, taking her gloved hand in his. "So we gon' dance."

"What?" she cried, startled. "Remy, are ya crazy?"

"Oui, chere," he responded with a lopsided smile. "Crazy 'bout you."

Rogue's cheeks turned pink, and she lowered her eyes as Remy pulled her towards him, ever careful not to touch his skin to hers. Now she saw why he'd worn his uniform, since the pants kept his legs safe and the shirt allowed her to press close against him without worrying. It didn't matter that his sleeves left most of his arms bare, because she had on gloves, and the lightweight pajamas she wore shielded her arms from coming into contact with his.

Remy wound his fingers with hers, taking her other hand and placing it on his shoulder. Rogue flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. "Don' worry, chere," he told her softly, his eyes boring into hers. "Remy trust you."

Those words meant a lot to Rogue, more than she could ever express, so she merely nodded.

"Gon' put my han' on yo' hip, 'kay, p'tite?" Remy asked, his devilish eyes bright. "Don' go gettin' any crazy ideas an' knock Remy's head off or not'ing, 'kay?"

Rogue didn't reply, and Remy took that for permission, so he carefully placed his gloved hand on her side, his palm pressing gently into the curve of her hip. Rogue drew a soft breath at the feel of his hand, and swallowed, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable.

"Remy trust you, chere," Remy whispered, the look he gave her nothing short of intense. "Now can y'trust Remy?"

Rogue licked her lips. "Always, Remy," she rasped softly, and she meant it with all her heart. It didn't matter that he was the enemy, that he worked for Magneto, that she barely knew him. For some unexplainable reason, she trusted this man with her life.

Maybe the reason for that wasn't so unexplainable, but she certainly didn't want to think about it right then. It was entirely too complicated.

Remy grinned. "Dat makes Remy happy, p'tite," he said, and began to twirl her in time to an imaginary beat.

Rogue laughed softly as he led her through the steps, finding that it was actually quite easy, and surprisingly fun. Remy was a good teacher, and dancing had always come naturally to her. Irene used to say that she had gotten it from her mother.

Remy spun her across the beach and the waves lapped up over her ankles, her feet kicking up sprays of water, and she laughed as she came to a stop. Remy moved towards her again, slashing slightly as he followed her into the water, neither of them caring that their clothes were getting wet in the ankle-deep water. Grinning, he intertwined his fingers with hers once more. Rogue could not help the warmth that spread through her entire body at his touch, and Remy noticed the faint blush that crept across her cheeks. "Yo' cute when y'blush, chere," he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer.

"Really?" Rogue replied dryly to cover the pleasure those words sent through her. "Well, don't tell anyone. Don't want ya ruinin' my reputation none."

Remy chuckled and began to turn in the water, humming softly to himself as they splashed lightly. Rogue couldn't help smiling, he was just too cute when he did that. She studied his face while they danced, memorizing the curves of his handsome features. She didn't know why it was so important to her that she remember every detail about this man. Maybe it was because she was afraid that someday she would have to leave him, that the X-men would come for her, or that Magneto would send him off somewhere, and she'd never get to see him again.

The thought was unbearable.

"What's wrong, chere?" Remy asked softly, his breath spilling onto her bare neck. She shivered at the sensation, her heart skipping a beat.

"Ah'm confused, Remy," Rogue admitted in a soft whisper.

"About what?" he asked gently, not slowing in their movements in the slightest.

"About Magneto, about mah friends, about mahself." She raised her eyes to meet his. "Mostly, though, about ya."

"Oh," was all Remy said, in a quiet tone. He glanced down for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. "What dere t' be confused 'bout, chere?"

"Everythin', Remy, everythin'," Rogue answered with a gentle sigh, resting her head on his shoulder. "It ain't supposed t' be like this between us, Remy. We both know that."

"Why's dat, chere?"

"Ya work fo' Magneto," she replied softly. "Ah work fo' the X-men. If they were here, they'd have a fit that Ah was 'consortin' with the enemy', so t' speak."

"But dey ain't here, chere," Remy said gently, lifting her chin with a gloved finger. His dark eyes were softer than she'd ever seen them as he gazed down at her. "An' Remy is."

"It's jus'..." Rogue swallowed. "Ah'm scared, Remy, an' Ah don't like bein' scared."

"Who does, p'tite?" Remy replied with a faint smile. "But y'don' got t' be scared, chere. Remy protect you."

"Ah don't exactly need much protectin', ya know," she reminded him lightly, flashing him a weak trace of a smile. "Ah can take care o' mahself."

"Remy knows dat, chere," he replied with a grin. "But he can' help it none. Instincts o' a t'ief an' all. Protect what is valuable."

Rogue blushed again, and shook her head in amusement. "Such a charmer, Remy LeBeau. Ah don't know why Ah put up with ya."

"Must be love, chere," Remy said with a cocky grin. "Gotta be love."

"Don't flatter y'self, sugar," Rogue retorted with a snort, but she wasn't that sure he was wrong.

Neither, apparently, was he, because before she knew what was happening he was leaning towards her, his lips hovering over hers. She blinked in alarm and started to pull away, but he held her in place with a gentle, but firm grip. "Do you trust me, chere?" he asked again, his voice husky and intense.

"Ah do, Remy," she replied hoarsely. "But it's jus' that Ah-"

"Shh," Remy said, pressing a gloved finger to her lips. "It be okay, chere. I promise you dat. I want dis."

"Ya don't know what ya askin'," Rogue rasped, her lips trembling slightly. "Ya kiss me an' ya gonna end up on the ground unconscious."

"Dat my risk, chere, my choice," Remy replied, his breath spilling onto her lips. "I gon' kiss you now. If dat ain't okay wit' you, girl, den you better back away now."

Rogue swallowed, but didn't move. Remy grinned and ducked his head down to press his lips to hers. Rogue blinked, startled, and had the urge to pull back, but she forced herself to ignore it, closing her eyes and savoring the ever so brief moment of contact between Remy's lips and hers.

"Dere," Remy rasped, pulling back and flashing her a weak smile, swaying on his feet. "Dat wasn't so bad, now was it?"

She never got to answer, because he fainted before she could open her mouth, but she couldn't help smiling as Remy's memories wept through her. His past was a blur, secrets and pain filing away in the back of her mind, his thoughts blurring with her own. The one thing that stood out clearly, though, was his emotions, and the intense feelings her harbored for her.

He was scared, too, by these new feelings, for he'd never felt this way about a girl before. He'd had plenty of girlfriends, kissed lots of girls, but never had any of them ever had the impact she'd had on him during their first meeting. He'd been as dazed by her as she'd been by him.

And now? After getting to know her, after becoming closer to the untouchable? He knew what he wanted, and he was determined to go after it, regardless of her mutation.

Rogue felt tears well up in her eyes. "Stupid swamp rat," she muttered as she knelt beside him, her eyes glowing red. "Didn't anybody ever tell ya not t' fall fo' a girl that ya can't touch?"

Still, she couldn't help the trembling smile that crossed her lips as she carefully scooped him up in her arms, and floated up to his window to deposit him gently on his bed. She pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched them to his. "Bonne nuit, beau," she whispered. "Merci du baiser."

When she fell back asleep that night, the smile was still on her lips.


Translations:
Bonne nuit, beau- Goodnight, handsome
Merci du baiser- Thank you for the kiss