Hey everyone! Again thanks for all the reviews. Second, starlight2twilight mentioned to me about Catholic weddings and how both bride and groom have to be Catholic for it to all happen smoothly. I'm intent on keeping this story short and simple so….all non-Catholics and Catholics, please overlook that little detail. And again, thanks starlight2twilight.

-Gams

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Mr Rogue and Mrs Gambit

Chapter Three – Can, Can't or Won't?

"Lord can ya jus' kill meh now!"

Rogue let out a silent sigh of frustration as Mercy forced yet another wedding gown in front of her that she insisted would look 'tres belle' on her. She would've been thankful for her enthusiasm but considering she partaking in the biggest sham-wedding of the century, her gratitude was forced. Tante Mattie and Mercy had practically forced all kinds of wedding magazines, fabric samples and flower arrangements, food samples that Tante had spent hours preparing and more make-up tests than Rogue had had in her entire life. And she had been a Goth for three years. Somehow, caking layers of purple and black make-up and compact was nothing compared to the assorted varieties of blush, lipstick, lip-loss and eye shadow that cluttered the kitchen table that morning. Rogue's face was still sore from having to wipe it off to start again so many times. Rogue uttered a silent prayer for some kind of miracle to get her out of the Wedding Planner's grasps.

Tante Mattie gave a disapproving frown and clicked her tongue as she put yet another magazine on top of Mercy's.

"Non, non, non! Dis is de parfait gown f' y' ma chil'. De long sleaves et de train will trés beau! Don't y' t'ink so Mercy?"

Mercy agreed but instead giving Rogue the chance to voice her preferences, shoved a third magazine her way and pointed to a dress that Rogue believed would best fit a Barbie doll than her. While Tante Mattie and Mercy began to argue again, Rogue let her chin fall against her folded arms on the table and let out a despairing sigh. She never wanted to see another wedding gown, another bouquet sample, food sample or bridal magazine so long as she lived after this was all over. Fake-wedding or not, this would scar her against the idea of having a big wedding for life. A civil ceremony in a simple, white slip dress and a couple of guests was her ticket choice. Not an overly elaborate Church wedding and a poofy Barbie doll wedding dress. Rogue let out short breath of air that blew through her fringe.

"That Cajun owes meh so badly."

She had every intention of making him the most miserable unmarried man on the planet when they got back to New York. However, she would have to hold back her punishments and torture until after they returned. She couldn't start early like she so desperately wanted to. Not with his family watching them behind rose-tinted glasses and proud smiles across their faces. They were supposed to be a blissfully newly-wedded couple but Rogue found that façade hard to maintain. The night he conjured their new plan about hiring an actor to conduct the wedding had been one of those moments of weakness. Rogue had just begun to turn down the bed sheets when Remy, insufferable, confident perv he was, decided that it would be alright to do the same. Her trademark glare did nothing to dissuade his actions. Smirking shamelessly, he simply laid himself down on his side of the queen size bed, shirtless and all, and rested his hand under his bent arm. His intentions were more than obvious but nevertheless the man still wiggled his eye brows in a suggestive action, causing her to gape at him.

"What the hell are ya doin'?"

He had smirked and leant forward to trail a skilled hand over the back of her hand before he replied. A husky chuckle escaped him, causing her to shiver involuntarily as soon as she pulled away.

"Jus' getting comfortable chére."

She had given him a raised-brow expression before slipping off the bed and grabbing one of the pillows.

"Ah'm not sleepin' with ya Remy."

He had the nerve to feign a look of utter naivety and perplex before replying smoothly.

"Remy wasn't insinuating anyt'ing, mais, if y' really want t' make dis marriage t'ing convincing den-"

For the second time that night, a pillow hit him square in the face as Rogue made for the door. He had pulled the pillow away from his face, unfazed, as he got up from the bed to follow.

"Chére? Where y' going? Remy was only kidding-"

She turned abruptly before he could finish. It was then he released that her cheeks were a flush. Even in the dimly lit room, he could see her cheeks turn pink and her brow crease with that trademark scowl.

"Look, ah'm this close t' leavin' ya to ya own doom with Bella-de-vil. Ah'm in no mood for ya makin' your perverted jokes about sleepin' together!"

He was at her side in an instant flat. To her surprise, he gently took both her hands in his. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs again as he caught her gaze in his intense, sincere stare. His voice was a gentle tone as he spoke.

"Je suis désolé mon chére. (I am sorry my dear) I'll behave from now on, jus' don't leave si vous plait?" (please?)

Fool she was. She nodded silently and allowed him to lead her back to the bed. With a polite 'bon nuit' (goodnight) and a smile Remy took two pillows from his side of the bed and set them on the floor. He retrieved couple of rugs from the wardrobe and laid them out on the hard wooden floor. Rogue had bit down on her lower lip with a pang of guilt. Did she really want to let him sleep on the hard floor just because she was so anxious about sleeping beside him? After what felt like an eternity of silence and Remy's uncomfortable grunts as he shifted his position again, Rogue sat up in the bed and leaned over the side. He was still awake. Even with his face a perfect rendition of sleep, she could tell he was still awake. Gently, she spoke.

"Remy?"

Those scarlet eyes opened. Genuine surprise flashed across his face before he reclaimed control of himself and gave a mockery of a man suddenly awake.

"What's wrong chére?"

Rogue bit down on her lower lip for a moment. A second later, a defeated sigh escaped her and she told him to climb into the bed. Even with her back turned, she knew he was smirking at her with triumph. She couldn't understand it but it made her smile too.

Rogue let out a grumble as she buried her face in her arms. Tante Mattie and Mercy were still completely oblivious to her as she scrunched her face with indignation. The next morning, and the two mornings after that, she woke with Remy's arms wrapped around her waist and his heated breath tickling the back of her neck. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling or a disagreeable way of waking in the morning but it was…wrong. They weren't together. They weren't really engaged or married. They weren't even interested in each other! "At least ah think so…" She gave a small scowl as she rose to the surface once more. Finding Tante and Mercy on civil-tongued level once more, she returned to the depths and buried herself in her thoughts. She found herself at a stalemate with this whole ordeal. Feelings torn and ripped at the middle as she battled within herself as to what to do.

"Ah can do this…raght?"

The actor-priest, according to Remy and Logan, had been hired. So it definitely wouldn't be a real wedding or ceremony. But how could you honestly think of this as a fake wedding when your fake-husband's potential mother and sister-in-law were throwing bridal gown materials in her face? Rogue mentally kicked herself. Some things were meant to be done for real. A wedding was one of them. Otherwise, to her at least, it just felt wrong. She felt like there was a constant itch on her skin but she couldn't pin point it. All she could do was scratch all over. Scratching led to reddened, sore skin. Was this wedding to take a similar likeness because it was a lie?

"Marie?"

Rogue just about jumped out of her own seat at the masculine voice. Instead, her head shot up from her crossed arms and her eyes set on her father-in-law. He gave her a pleasant smile that reminded her of Remy's. There was slyness in that smile that practically screamed an older version of Remy. He gave a husky chuckle before he spoke.

"Are dese femmes wearing y' out mon petite?" (my little one)

Rogue blushed slightly as he gave a nervous smile. Tante and Mercy were huddled in the corner of the large kitchen, arguing over a plate of sample orderves that Rogue feared she would have to test taste. For now however, they were completely oblivious to her and Jean-Luc. Rogue tucked a strand of auburn behind her ear as she replied politely.

"They're not, really. Ah'm-"

Jean-Luc's hearty and amused chuckle interrupted her before she could even begin to justify some lie. In trust, she had never been more exhausted and stressed out in all her life. And she was a spandex-wearing, villain fighting vigilante! As Jean-Luc gave her an affectionate smile, he offered her his arm like an Old Southern Gentleman and whispered.

"Would y' care t' have a little fresh air petite?"

Rogue took the elderly man's arm without a moment's hesitance.

A short time later, they walked arm in arm about the colourful garden that surrounded the yard closest to the house. Jean-Luc explained that while his wife was still alive, she tended to this garden like she did her children; with pride and tender care. After her death, Jean-Luc professed that he took over the job of tending to the gardens but to his dismay, it was not the same. Rogue felt a pang of sympathy for the man. She could only imagine what it must be like lose someone like that. As they came to a fork in the path, Jean-Luc led them down a gravel path that led to a white gazebo. Surrounded by endless wreaths of white roses, it was simply the crown of the garden. Jean-Luc, being the Gentleman that he and his sons claimed, offered her a seat before sitting himself down in the opposite chair. There, they sat in a moderate but nonetheless content silence. That is until Jean-Luc asked her something she had not expected.

"Has Remy told y' about his Mére?" (Mother)

Rogue mutely shook her head. Jean-Luc nodded in understanding before continuing.

"She died when he was jus' a garcon. He was only jus' fourteen."

Rogue felt another pang of sympathy take hold of her expression. Gently she spoke.

"Ah'm sorry t' hear that. It must have been hard on him."

Jean-Luc nodded sadly but there was a small smile that made his expression bitter-sweet. Rogue liked to think that that smile was reminiscent of happier times.

"Oui, it was. Mais he's become a bon homme. I'd like t' t'ink she would be proud o' him." (good man)

Rogue gave a gentle, genuine smile.

"Ah'm certain she would beh."

Jean-Luc gave a genuine, bright smile that Rogue couldn't quite match the emotion to. It hit her with a pang of guilt, much to her surprise but she was not left to wallow for long. Gently, Jean-Luc reached out and rested his hand on top of Rogue's on the small garden table between them. He thanked her softly. Rogue could only smile back as she was lost for better words. However, before she could feel any more torn between guilt and genuine affection, Jean-Luc reached into the pocket of his shirt. A look of horror and bewilderment barely managed to form on her face before he set the thin velvet box on the table. He pushed it towards her as he spoke.

"A belated wedding gift, mon belle-fille." (My daughter/-in-law)

Rogue felt her cheeks burn again as she tried not to seem like a gaping fish. She barely got the chance to respectfully decline the gift when Jean-Luc uttered those magic and utterly guilt-wrenching words that left her guttered if not bewildered.

"Dis was my wife's. She was intent on giving it to a daughter if we had any. Mais I t'ink it only befitting if y' had it."

With slightly trembling fingerings, Rogue flipped open the box. She silently gaped in amazement as her eyes settled on a rose-gold bracelet with three pea-sized rubies all set in a line. She grazed a gentle fingertip over the chain as she finally managed to speak.

"Oh Lord, it's…its beautiful…Ah- ah don't think ah deserve this."

Jean-Luc wordlessly smiled as he motioned for the box. He removed the bracelet from the box and ushered for her to give him her wrist so he could slip it on. No less than ten seconds later, it lay against her skin and became warm as it adjusted to her temperature. Rogue couldn't stop gaping and looking between the bracelet and Jean-Luc. Though she didn't really understand why, she felt her eyes sting slightly with fresh tears. Jean-Luc, noticing how glossing her emerald eyes had become, took the moment of silence to make his leave. He reached out to her hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"I couldn't have asked for a better femme (woman) for mon fils (My son)."

Rogue felt herself melt and shatter to pieces all at once.

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That night…

Remy let out an exhausted yawn as he stepped onto the front porch. After six full hours of racing about the city with Henri and Theo to do all of Tante Mattie's biddings, he was close to collapsing onto the nearest couch. Or the floor. However, upon entering the house, he received such a shock that sleep was the farthest thing from his mind.

Materials, flowers, plates of every kind of food, magazines, assorted china sets and various other Wedding clichés polluted the main living room, the kitchen and, amazingly enough, the dining room where he found the main occupants of the household. Tante Mattie, Mercy, Ororo and Etienne were all packed together over the table, squabbling and mouthing off in French and English like he had never seen before. However, despite the absurdity of the scene, this was not what caused him to crease his brow in a sceptical scowl.

Rogue was not in the room.

Still frowning, Remy stealthily made his way out of the doorway and headed upstairs. He made his way silently to his bedroom and nocked before entering. When there was no answer, he walked inside only to find the room empty. He set the bags- containing his tuxedo and the wedding rings, on the desk and shrugged out of his trench coat and laid it over the back of a nearby chair. He called out her name, to check if she was in the bathroom. To his surprise, he heard her call back from behind the door. Taking it as permission to enter, Remy opened the door to find a more surprising sight.

With her back to the bathtub, Rogue sat with her legs tucked and her head on her knees on the bathroom floor. Remy tried to hide the twinge of arousal at the sight of her, sitting there in a white bathrobe and her hair so carelessly pulled back in a high pony tail. Obviously, she had just got out of the bath. The sheer shine of water was still fresh on her face and the slightly exposed area of her throat. By far this was one of the most becoming looks he had ever seen on her. It was hard to keep a civil state of mind as he stepped further into the room. However, as he stepped closer to her, he noted the crease in her brow as she stared up at him with those sad, emerald eyes.

What had they done to her? He knew Tante Mattie and Mercy would be full on with the wedding preparations but from the look across Rogue's face, Remy feared that they might have broken her. He had never thought that possible.

Remy gulped silently as he came to kneel in front of her but he kept a straight face as he spoke.

"What's wrong chére?"

It was as if she had seen him for the first time. She blinked for the first time in minutes before a truly heart-wrenching look spread across her face.

"Ah can'te do this."

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MUHAHAHAHAH! Don't hate me please.

REVIEW!

-Gams