Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men! -.-

Pure Romy chapter! Yay! I simply loved writting this one. Please, review so I know I've done it right. Reviews always spark some inspiration in me, so it means I'll upload the next chapter soon (I'm working on it already).

Let me know what you think, ok?

Taming a wild tiger. Probably, it was a feeling very close to that. Trying to predict how it would react to the slightest touch, how it would try to escape the tight grip of his hands. He slowed down and it purred beneath him, begging for more; he gave in to it and felt the vibration of its approving growl travel from the tips of his fingers to his chest, making him arch his back a little to welcome the shudder that came along; he pressed further and it roared like a wild beast, and he groaned in response, licking his upper lip and narrowing his eyes. There were only a few sounds as sweet as this roar.

"Remy!" Well, this was one of them: Rogue screaming his name, nearly out of breath, sweetening it with her Mississippi accent. He didn't dare looking at her or else he'd crash… into her and into one of the cars in front of them. "Didn't ya see that truck?!"

"Everything's under control, belle. Chill." Yet, he slowed down the car to turn his attention to her. Rogue was sitting stiff on the passenger's seat, her knuckles white from holding her small purse with all her strength. He gave a raspy laugh, making her glare at him.

"Do ya have to be suicidal about everything you do?" She asked, frowning.

"Life needs strong emotions, chérie. Otherwise, it becomes dull." He answered, eyes on the road.

"Ah've heard that before… but ya don't have a healing factor. And neither do Ah." She finally relaxed into the seat and looked out of the window, letting her thoughts drift while she became hypnotized by the lights of the city as they reached the center.

Remy felt her wall building up, as it always did at some point of their conversations. He hated the feeling it gave him of a cliff opening up between them. 'Come back.' "What are y' thinking 'bout?" He asked, trying to build a bridge to reach her. Rogue turned her head to him surprised, coming out of her divagation. "Y' don't have t' tell me, if ya' don't want t'. But y' looked upset for a second."

Rogue bit her lip. "It's nothing important." She sighed, focusing her attention on her nails. "Ah was just thinking how dull Ah let mah life become in the past couple years." Remy glanced at her. "Ah've let mahself be dragged into a comfort zone… with everything. Like a baby afraid to come out of the womb." She twisted her lips disapprovingly.

"You're not a baby, chérie. And the circumstances weren't very good for y'." They stopped at the red light and he took the opportunity to take her hand. "Can I be very, very honest wit' y'?"

"Ah hoped ya were always very, very honest with meh." She joked, not realizing how those words affected him.

'I only wish I could, ma chérie…' "When I first met ya'… at the Institute, not the mall… I knew from the start y' were definitely not dull. If I could define y' then, besides beautiful, enchantin', out o' the ordinary…" Rogue smiled, her face bright red. "… it would be numb. But never dull. Y' were just covered in frost. A Magnolia flower in winter. How can it bloom when nothing gives it the conditions t'? Y' can't blame the flower for dat, can ya'?"

Rogue shook her head, and something seemed to spark in her eyes. "That would be cruel." She reflected on his words for a little longer, and then laughed. Remy raised an inquiring eyebrow, and she rest her forehead on the window. "Maybe the flower needed a little sticky toad to hop around and shake the frost off it."

He laughed too, pulling over by the bistro and turning off the car. "Y' know what they say about toads, Rogue. Give 'em a kiss and they turn t' princes."

"Do the girls buy that down there in the Bayou?" She asked as he left the car and went around it to open the door for her. "You, a prince… sure." Rogue mocked, looking up at him.

"You'd be surprised, chérie." He offered his hand to help her out of the car, giving her a mysterious smirk.

When they entered the bistro, Rogue took the coupons from her purse, and showed it to the maître, who quirked an eyebrow. "Do you have a reservation, madam?" He asked, pointing to a black book on the desk in front of him.

Rogue was struck by a wave of shock and embarrassment. The thought of making a reservation hadn't even crossed her mind. 'Congratulations, Marie… You ruined everything.'

Remy observed her mute reaction, waiting to see if she would answer. When the force of her embarrassment hit him, he realized what was going on.

"Oui. LeBeau. Remy LeBeau." Remy said confidently, putting an arm around her waist. The maître held his breath for a second, and didn't even lower his eyes to the reservation book; he just nodded and led them to their table, his hands trembling slightly. Rogue nearly let out a sigh of relief, and Remy whispered in her ear: "Relax, chérie. Please."

She smirked to him. "Empathy?"

"Yep. Y' nearly got me freaking out too."

The place was luxurious. The white marble floor, covered with red Persian tapestries, made a beautiful contrast with the fine wood walls and mahogany furniture. The center of the salon was lit by a huge crystal chandelier, and the smallest round tables on the further side of the restaurant had small candles at their center. Their table was one of those, intimate and charming, and as they crossed the restaurant to take their seats, Rogue had the feeling everyone was giving them evaluating glances. The maître motioned to pull Rogue's chair for her to sit, when she smiled and pulled the chair by herself.

"No need to worry, mister. Ah got it. Thanks!" She immediately regretted it when she saw the man's face and heard a couple behind her whisper something sarcastically.

"Please, madam, I insist." He said slowly, and this time she let him help her.

"Sorry…" She whispered, blushing, and Remy chuckled. A well-dressed waiter brought them the menu, and patiently waited as they chose their dishes. Rogue went for a dish of veal and salad, and Remy chose a risotto, also ordering a bottle of wine to go along with their food. "Thank Gawd we got the discount… have ya seen the price of these dishes, Rem?"

"Wait till y' see the size of the dishes, belle." He said, letting his eyes make her squirm one more time. 'Trés belle.' He thought, while the waiter served their wine in crystal glasses. The way she rest her chin on her hand, observing her surroundings with a distant look on her face, made him think of a painting. It didn't go unnoticed to him, however, the way she lowered her eyes every now and then, like she was remembering something, and her rigid posture. Clearly, she wasn't feeling very relaxed. He thought once or twice if he should start a conversation, but the words died before they left his mouth.

Rogue felt Remy's eyes fixed on her as she quietly sipped her wine and took in the details of the place. He had been like that for around ten minutes already. At first, she wondered he would say something, but he hadn't said anything so far. It was starting to get on her nerves. She fixed her eyes on his, trying to make him react, but all he did was stare in return.

"What?" She said louder than expected and mentally cursed as people around turned to look at her. Remy grinned without moving his eyes away.

"Nothin'."

"So why are ya staring?" she hissed.

He didn't answer for a while, just looking at her as if evaluating something about her attitude. Rogue shifted uncomfortably on her chair and he looked away.

"I wasn't starin'." He said playing with his glass for a while and then drinking.

"What were ya doing then?" She asked, still unconvinced.

"Thinkin'." He stated simply. Rogue let out an impatient sigh, fighting her will to punch the table top.

"About…?" She said between gritted teeth.

"Nothin'." He finished his glass and smiled innocently at her, making her urge to strangle him nearly impossible to hold back. She growled at him but didn't have time to say anything else, because the waiter arrived with their dishes. She decided to focus on her tiny portion of food and ignore Remy, and started eating the veal, which was incredibly tender and savory. "Y' are usin' the wrong fork, chérie." His voice was filled with humor, and when she raised her eyes to him he pointed the right fork for the dish. She glared at him for a second and changed the fork with a rough movement.

"Thanks." She muttered under her breath. Remy didn't answer, his eyes still on her, without touching his food.

"I was thinkin'…" he started and gave a punctuated pause, waiting for her to raise her eyes to him, which she did with an annoyed expression. He chuckled and went on, leaning back on his chair. "No, seriously! I was thinkin'… do y' really like it?"

Rogue was confused for a second, swallowed and asked uncertainly, pointing to her plate. "The veal?" Remy smiled and made a negative sign.

"I mean dis." He looked around to indicate the whole place. "Not the restaurant." He went on before she could open her mouth to answer. "Dis whole… formality. Do y' like it?"

"Well… it's kind of okay." Rogue shrugged. The waiter approached again and filled Remy's glass with more wine. As the old man left, she bit her lower lip and stared at her plate. "Ok, Ah admit. It's a bore." She looked at him apologetically, but he gestured with his hand, asking her to go on. "The food is great but the portions are so tiny. We paid so much for a bite! And people seem more interested in watching what you're doing and giving ya bad looks than eating their own food." She said a bit louder this time, furrowing her brows.

Remy lowered his head and chuckled. "Exactly. Maybe someone like Betsy would enjoy it but I was thinkin' dat maybe dis isn't your idea of a good time. I guess I was right. You're just like me, chérie. Ya' see, we could sit here all night, whisper instead o' talk, eat our tiny portions and behave like we are pretty damn educated people but… let's face it, we're not!"

Rogue started to laugh and agreed with her head. "True. Ya are a swamp rat after all."

"Says the river rat." Remy mocked and she stuck her tongue out at him in response. "Remember what I told y' 'bout dat tongue." He gave a brief pause and rest his chin on his hand. "How long have y' been here in New York?"

"It's been a few years."

"And when was the last time you've actually been somewhere y' felt comfortable?" He narrowed his crimson eyes, analyzing her expression as she thought about it.

"Ah'm not going to lie to ya… it's been a long while. Ah'm not a big fan of crowded malls and expensive restaurants. The gals try to cheer meh up sometimes and bring meh to places, well… not as chic as this but…" A glimpse of sadness darkened her face and she poked her food with the fork. "Bobby used to take meh out to these stylish restaurants whenever we had an argument, as a way to fix things. Ya know, sushi bars, dancing pubs, bistros. When we were fine, we went to the mall or walked around the city and ate fast food. It's not that Ah don't like it but sometimes all Ah wanted was a typical southern dish. Ya might be the most annoying man Ah know, Rem, but Ah shall always be grateful for every single breakfast ya cooked meh."

"If it makes y' dis happy, I will cook y' breakfast every mornin', chérie."

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it get to yer head. Your ego is already oversized and if it gets any bigger, ya won't pass the door on our way out. As an answer to your question: Ah've been to many places here in New York, but none of them felt familiar to meh."

"And what would y' consider familiar?"

Rogue thought about it, crinkled her nose and raised her eyes to him with an embarrassed expression. "It may sound a little shocking to you, but ya know those diners by the road, that play loud country music or even classic rock, and serve spicy wings and ribs, with a few pool tables and a wooden bar? Well, that's very familiar to meh. Back in Mississippi, Ah used to escape with mah friends at times and go to places like this. They never asked for IDs anyways."

"Rogue! Now y' surprise me. Y' did illegal things when young?" He tried to keep a shocked expression on his face but gave up on it when his lips curved in a mischievous way. "Ya're not a good company. I could be influenced…"

"Oh, shut up! We never really did things like drinking or gambling. We just sat there and chatted, played pool at times, watched the weird people that sat on the tables drinking, and sometimes the fights. Ok, we did gamble but only among ourselves, when there was a fight." She rolled her eyes to Remy, since he still kept a comic expression, with his mouth open and a hand over it in 'complete shock'. "Ok, so ya are telling meh ya were a good boy and never gambled or got into places ya weren't allowed to?".

"Moi? Gamble? Jamais! And if I ever did, it was Henry's fault, I swear!" He said, pointing at an invisible person on his side. Rogue laughed openly at that.

"You're crazy."

"About y'." He teased charmingly and put his hand over hers, but she ignored it, or at least seemed to.

"So, yeah, Ah like places like that. It brings meh good memories. By the way, Ah met Logan in a bar. Of course it was a much more hardcore bar than what Ah was used to, but Ah was there sitting and he showed up. Then Ah took a clandestine ride on his trailer and… here Ah am, part of the X-Men. And Ah'm happy to be here, don't get meh wrong. The problem is that Ah still didn't get used to this metropolis vibe, if ya know what Ah mean, and mah friends don't understand that."

"Believe me, I know how it feels. We're from the South, ma belle. One dat's never been there, one dat didn't grow up there will never understand how it feels. Dat's why I wondered if y' were havin' fun here because, honestly, I ain't. Of course, if y' were enjoyin' yourself, I'd gladly stay. But we're both bored and hopin' f'r the torment t' end. Dat's not how a date, or a friend's meetin', as you'd say, should be."

"What do ya suggest then?" She crossed her arms, her voice resounding with a daring tone.

"Dat we leave." He merely said.

"We're going home already?"

"I didn't say we would go home. I said we would leave." He made a sign for the waiter to bring the bill.

"And go where?!" Rogue asked and Remy just gave her a wicked grin in return.

"I know a place." He said nothing more until the waiter returned, he paid, took his coat, and they left the restaurant. The air had gotten colder outside and Rogue shuddered a little. "I'll fix dat in a moment, chérie, but first let's go somewhere quieter." He took something from his back pocket, then took her by the hand and led her to a dark alley nearby, ignoring her protests. As he turned to face her, Rogue saw he had a small knife in his hand.

"Remy!" Her eyes widened and she closed her hands in fists, her body instinctively reacting to the apparent threat. Remy just rolled his eyes and, quicker than she could react, made a cut on her dress, more or less on her thigh height, leaving her skin unharmed. "NO! What are ya doing?! Mah new dress! C'mon, ya gave it to meh!"

"Rogue, you're not goin' to the place we're goin' dressed up like dis. Now stay still and let me work my magic." He said, playing with the knife in his hand. She still looked uncertain, her hand over the ruined part of the dress. "Trust me?"

"No! But it seems Ah got no choice, and the dress is already ruined, so go on. And if this knife touches mah skin, you're dead." She menaced and shut her eyes, immediately feeling him close to her, touching her dress, his hand skimming her covered legs, making her bite her tongue so she wouldn't pant, and then she heard the sound of fabric being torn and cut. Suddenly the night felt colder and she knew he had shortened her dress to a few inches over her knees. Remy looked at the result of his fashion designer attempt and was quite happy with it. The cut was uneven but the overall result was modern and full of attitude. He approached her, seeing her shiver a little more, and whispered 'done' in her ear, making her gasp in surprise. "Do ya know the meaning of a safe distance?" She shoved him away and looked down, evaluating the new dress, and then smirked. "Not bad, swamp rat. Not bad at all, although Ah wouldn't make it this short."

"I think I got a little carried away." Remy gave one last look to her legs, and then nodded to the car. "Let's go?" He rubbed his hands and put on his gloves.

As they reached the Mercedes, Remy took off his coat and gave it to her. She hurried to dress it, not minding the fact it was a little big on her. "Thanks. It's a nice final touch." Rogue took a good look at her reflection on the glass door of a store behind her. "So, ya walk around with a switchblade in your pocket?" She asked, entering the car carefully because of the short dress. 'Gosh.' she thought, trying to pull the skirt down a little.

"It was a gift, so I keep it. Old habits, chérie." Remy shrugged, starting the car and giving a not so quick glance to her legs. 'Focus on the street. Focus.' She crossed her legs and for a moment, he forgot what he was doing.

"Remy!" She yelled and he braked only inches from the car in front of them. "What the heck are ya doing?!"

"Pardon!" He let out a low whistle and started the car again, then drove to the main street, keeping his eyes straight ahead. They left the traffic behind as they reached the outskirts of the city, and he drove faster.

Rogue rested her head back, enjoying the ride and looking up through the open window to see the sky filled with stars. Remy kept driving and soon she realized they were taking a road by the sea. She poked his shoulder. "Rem, can ya retract the hardtop?" He obeyed and looked at her, as if waiting for her to say something else. Rogue ignored it and stood, holding to the windshield, then untied her hair, letting it fly around with the wind. "The hair has to match the clothes." She explained and he flashed her a smile, speeding up a little more.

The cold wind on her face made her feel completely awake. She looked up to the sky again and laughed at the sudden feeling of freedom that overwhelmed her. Her hair was flying around, her face burned with the cold wind, she felt the roar of the car inside her chest, the wind whistled in her ears. "Woohooooo!" She screamed in delight, and Remy laughed along. He kept driving for a long while, but Rogue didn't complain. On the contrary, she wished they would keep going forever. She wondered what it would be like to travel like that with Remy to a place far away, maybe California, or even Mexico. Those thoughts were going through her mind and she only noticed they were back to the city of New York when they found traffic again.

Rogue sat down, wondering why they had returned. They were just a few blocks away from the bistro and she was about to question Remy about it when they stopped. He got out of the car and helped her out as well.

"Why did we leave the city if this place was just a few blocks away?" She asked. Remy barely heard it, admiring how sexy she was looking with her messy hair, red cheeks and cut black dress. He put a lock of her hair behind her ear, looking entertained with that gesture.

"Didn't y' enjoy the ride, chérie?" His gloved hand glided from her ear and followed her delicate jaw line, lingering on her chin.

"Of course Ah did, sugah." She murmured, unable to ignore the warm trail his hand left on her skin. He smiled in response; not the wicked grin that she was used to, but a smile unusually sweet. There was a second she thought he was getting closer to her, but he turned to look at the bar's entrance and she reluctantly did the same. There were some men smoking and chatting outside, but they didn't bother to look at the couple as both of them moved to enter the bar. As soon as Rogue went inside, she smelled the tobacco, along with fried food and wood. The place wasn't very well illuminated, and she couldn't see the further round tables next to the wall properly. The bar was on the left side, and a fat man was behind it washing a few glasses. On the right side was a jukebox playing AC/DC, and three men playing pool on one of the two pool tables in front of her were singing along and laughing loudly. There were a few other tables scattered around the establishment and all kind of people sat and drank on them. A man passed by Remy and complimented him cheerfully before leaving. Rogue kept walking slowly to the middle of the establishment, turned around and saw her face reflected on a large mirror behind the bar. Her hair was wild, and so was the smile on her face. Remy seemed to have materialized a place that matched her description with perfection.

Remy walked past her and sat on the bar stool, making a sign to the fat bartender. The man was about forty and his short brown hair was almost gone on the top of his head. He seemed focused on his cleaning until he saw Remy waving at him and his face lit with pleasure. "Chris! Wow, long time no see! Where have you been?" The fat man rushed to Remy. "It's been… what? Six months? Five months?"

"Nearly nine months, mon ami."

"Sure. Next time you feel like disappearing, pass by and let me know." Both men laughed and the bartender grabbed a bottle of Bourbon behind him. "The same as always?"

Remy stared at the bottle, seeming tempted but then declined it. "Tonight I got t' take the lady home." He nodded to Rogue who had just sat by his side.

"Oh, c'mon, sugah. We can get a taxi on our way back and ya come for the car tomorrow. No need to police yourself because of meh."

"If y' insist…" He lifted the glass in front of him and the bartender filled it. "By the way, Jimmy, this is Rogue. Rogue, Jimmy." The two of them complimented each other and Jimmy commented on how beautiful his date was, making Rogue blush. "She is a friend, Jimmy." The man gave him an amused smirk.

"But Rogue, that's an unusual nickname."

"So is yours, mon ami, but I don't think it would be appropriated t' say it out loud in front o' her." Remy whispered from behind his glass, grimacing as he swirled the Bourbon. Jimmy's face turned bright red.

"Yeah, she won't want to hear that. I need to finish cleaning this stuff, so make yourselves comfortable and call me if you need anything." He was about to go back to his previous task by the sink when Rogue called him.

"Could ya bring meh some fried chicken?" Rogue asked with a begging expression.

"Sure, darling. Anything to drink too?" He gestured to the bottles behind him.

"No, Ah'm okay."

The man headed for the kitchen door, screamed her order to someone, and went back to cleaning the bar. Rogue turned to Remy, perched on her stool, and crossed her arms, aware that he was looking at her from the corner of his eye, the glass resting on his lips as a way to cover the proud smile on his face.

"Ok, how exactly did ya do this?!" He seemed to ignore her, now staring at the bottom of the glass. "C'mon, Remy! Ya found a place exactly the way Ah described. Ah hate to say this but it's impressive."

"Ma belle, your description matches about four bars in this area o' the city. I hate t' diminish my own capacity, but it wasn't a big deal. Y' just need t' know where t' go." He turned to her too and whispered. "Just don't call me dat name. I'm Chris here."

"Ya memorize all the different names you use in all the places you attend?! Chris…" She didn't have time to finish because he stood up and nodded to a table on a dark corner. She got what he meant and followed Remy, sitting on a wooden chair across from him. Rogue observed his expression for a brief moment then leaned in his direction. "All these names… but who are you really, sugah?" Rogue tried not to sound too serious, but Remy could feel the curiosity pouring from her.

With a grin, he leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms, admiring the full picture of Rogue slightly bent over the table. That situation should be quite uncomfortable to him; however a growing excitement obliterated any fear that might have surfaced. Yes, he was afraid, but it was the same kind of fear one gets before diving from a cliff. Truth is: he was longing to tell her everything about him, even if he was aware that it was impossible. Instead, he decided to play with luck. He tilted his head to the side and slowly removed the glove from his left hand, watched by a confused Rogue. Rogue's face paled when, before she could react, he leaned over the table too, their faces only a few inches away, and offered his bare hand to her.

"Do y' want t' find out, chérie?" Remy whispered those words in such a way one might have thought he was inviting her to do something much more intimate. Rogue quivered due to the tone of his voice and by the unexpected attitude, but still she stood her ground. Her glance moved from his eyes, to his lips, then to his hand, evaluating, before she reclined back on her chair.

"You're impossible, swamp rat." Rogue shook her head, clearly still flustered by his proposal.

"Only the impossible can do the impossible*, ma chérie." He said, putting his glove on again. "Y' know I was a bounty hunter, don't y'? It's not the kind o' job y' can walk around tellin' people your real name. Basic survival skills." He shrugged. When Rogue finally accepted that it made perfect sense, they started to chat about how hard (or easy, according to Remy) it was to find these kinds of bars around there. He was telling her for the fourth time she needed to get out more when her fried chicken arrived and she rolled her eyes in delight, before attacking it.

"Absolutely divine!" She said after the plate was empty. "It tasted just like…" She stopped, thinking of the word, and Remy completed it for her: home. "Ah'm not sure if that should be the word. The Institute is mah home now. Ah think the right word would be… past. Mah innocent days." Rogue sighed to find strength to what she was going to say. "Honestly sugah, Ah miss mah city so badly but Ah know it just can't be the same way it was before. It will never be the same to meh. And it hurts meh to say this: Ah don't want to go back! Ah miss it every single day but that's mah past, and Ah can't have it back… and Ah don't want to go back there. Do ya know what Ah mean?" She saw a slight frown appear on Remy's face.

"Non. I never felt like not wantin' t' go back. I never wanted t' stay away from New Orleans." Remy ran a hand through his hair, trying to hold back the emotion that had already started to pour into his voice.

"Then you're luckier than meh. Ya can go back any time you want." Rogue was staring at her own hands so she didn't realize that Remy turned his head to the other side as soon as she said that. "How long has it been since you've been down South?"

Remy cleared his throat but his voice still came harsh when he answered. "About eight months."

Rogue instantly made the count in her head and let out an excited exclamation. "Oh! Ya were there for Mardi Gras! Ah've always wanted to go to New Orleans during Mardi Gras." Her smile faded when she saw Remy take a cigarette from his pocket, bite his lower lip and then put it back into his pocket. "What is it?"

"I wasn't in New Orleans. I was in Miami." His voice was still caught in his throat and he tried to clear it again, this time drinking his Bourbon. "It's been… years I don' go t' New Orleans."

"Why? Why don't…"

Remy waved his hand, as if trying to blow his thoughts away. "Rogue, let's not talk 'bout dis… please." He pleaded. To be precise, he hadn't been to Mardi Gras (and to New Orleans) since he was nineteen. And since then he had longed to go back, dreamed of his city, the smells and the sounds of it, knowing he couldn't go back. Not if he wanted to live. New Orleans would never be his again. He nearly gasped for air when he repeated that to himself now. It was when he felt her hand grasping his and then the slight pull when she took his hand to her lips and kissed it gently.

"Let's not talk about it." She reassured him. "Tonight is meant to cheer ya up, remember? Forget everything bad going through your head."

"Alright." It was his turn to pull her hand and give it a lingering kiss.

Again, please review! They make me so happy, even if they are not so good; it let's me know how I can improve.

About the chapter:

Remy, Remy... he hears and hears, but gives nothing much away. I've always wondered if he's a Scorpio LOL Please, do notice the maître's reaction to his name. And a switchblade... unusual gift, isn't it? ;)

* Quote by Nicolas de Lenfent, in The Vampire Lestat, by Anne Rice.