Trouble in St. Tropez

Part One

**** It should be noted that this is an unfinished sequel to "Derranged Marriage". For a good long while I've held back putting even the first chapter up because I've been having a bit of a struggle getting back into the writing of it. Recently I've started re-writing the entire thing (other than this chapter, which regardless of re-writes has always remained the same). Although the story is in no way near completion, I felt it was time to upload a piece as there's been so many requests for it. I'm not sure how long it will be between this and the next update, all I can say is I am working on it (and I, Assassin...some day it'll be complete even though not many are reading it currently).

Since I've been complained at in the past for not giving enough trigger warnings, I'll advise from the get go here that there most definitely will be references to child abuse/sexual molestation at some point (it was important to "Derranged Marriage" so it's sort of impossible to avoid here. If these things bother you, I'd recommend reading elsewhere. Some of you who may have read other stories I have written most likely expect the angst, but there probably won't be quite as much as the "Magnetic Attraction" trilogy if it's any consolation.

Anyway, here it is, the first part of the sequel to "Derranged Marriage". I hope you all enjoy it.

The scenery was spectacular; she wasn't sure she'd ever seen water so green in all her life...she was sure she'd never seen a beach so white, nor a sky so clear.

The view from the balcony onto the private beach was absolutely stunning...more breathtaking than she'd imagined it would be when Remy had told her this she'd be coming. She could barely believe that the whole of it was theirs and theirs alone for the next week. She took in the endless ocean, there seemed to be nothing else on the horizon but water and a few speed boats skipping along the waves, leaving trails of white behind them.

Rogue had to take a deep breath and exhale slowly; as she stood there with her hands on the iron railing, she felt almost exhilarated...and privileged to have such a view almost completely to herself.

Well...almost to herself.

"It's quite somethin', isn't it?" she heard Remy LeBeau at her back; she glanced over her shoulder to look in through the open patio doors to see him changing his shirt in the villa's master bedroom. He'd chosen the most gaudy Hawaiian shirt the gift shop at the airport had had to offer, and she'd lamented him buying such a monstrosity. It was an absolute utter eyesore; she was almost certain he'd bought the damn thing just to spite her. The more she'd complained about it, the more he'd seemed eager to purchase it.

"Who gon' see me in it apart from y'self?" he had asked of her as she'd shook her head while he'd held it up against himself to check the size was ideal.

"We're not even in Hawaii," she had reminded, rolling her eyes.

Oddly enough, Remy LeBeau had one of those physiques and faces that seemed to make even dull rags look good, so it was no surprise that somehow, he could pull off a truly heinous shirt and still look like a male model. She didn't want to admit that though, the boy already was far too confident about his looks to be complimented on making the ugliest shirt on earth look like this season's style.

"You look ridiculous," she remarked, folding her arms and letting her back rest against the rail as she stared into the room.

"I look good and y' know it."

She crossed her ankles and laughed. "Seriously...you're going to go out looking like that?"

"I'll look inconspicuous. Like just another average tourist tryin' t' look the part."

"Yeah...yeah that's exactly what you look like," Rogue chortled, she turned back to the view, "Ah...should probably call Logan, let him know we arrived safe."

"Call him later," Remy said as he came to join her on the balcony. Rogue still wasn't able to block out the way his voice was always tinged with jealously any time Logan's name was mentioned.

"He asked me to call him when we arrived," Rogue reminded.

"Sure he'll know we got here. He's probably trackin' the flight," Remy muttered coolly, he leaned against the rail. "Just call him later, okay? You're on vacation, you don't need to be under his thumb while you're away. B'sides, he's prob'ly still in a mood with y'. He didn' look too happy when he saw us off t' the airport yesterday," Remy grinned as he let his forearms rest against the rail and hunched a little to stare out over the view.

"Ah guess he's not happy that we're not coming back yet," Rogue admitted. Yes, Logan had certainly given her that impression when he'd saw them to the terminal. His expression clouded with apprehension, his voice gruff as he said goodbye almost disapprovingly.

"We deserve a vacation, chere," Remy reminded.

"Which is the only reason he didn't drag both our asses back to Bayville," said Rogue with a smirk. "He pulled me aside while you were in the bathroom and said to me 'separate rooms, separate bathrooms, and at least look in to getting that annulment'."

Remy's smile dropped only slightly, and Rogue caught it. She could tell he wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea of looking into an annulment right now. She wasn't positive there needed to be an annulment if she'd used a fake name but Logan's insistence made her wonder if this was merely a formality so that Remy felt the finality of it. He was taking this fake marriage far more seriously than Rogue felt he should be and that needed to be dealt with, what better way than to have a fake annulment to finish a fake marriage?

"So...what's to do around here?" Rogue asked to change the subject; it was too soon to broach the subject properly, and Remy was still too hurt over things that had happened only days ago. It was easier to avoid bringing up unhappiness and try to instead focus on the more positive things all around them.

Take advantage of all this around us right now, he's probably gonna need it after what came out in Louisiana, she told herself.

"Sunbathin', swimmin'...can rent a boat. We can do whatever y' want."

"Ah'm not sure what Ah want to do right now," Rogue confessed. It was hard to know what she wanted to do here when she hadn't truly wanted to come at all. Remy's current state of mind had been the only reason she'd agreed to this. This was for him, and she'd go along with it for now...anything to help him get over the trauma.

"There's a brochure in the livin' room of all the activities goin' on the area," Remy said. "Y' can surf that and lemme know what y' feel like doin'. Or if y' like, y' can just chill on a lounger on the deck with cocktail in your hand and enjoy the sea breeze. Whatever y' feel like."

"What kind of stuff do you do when you're here?" she asked.

"Last time I come here, I got drunk every night and woke up in some pretty weird places..." he shrugged.

"Define weird," Rogue dared.

"Uhm...one mornin' woke up t' find I was asleep in the cargo deck of a ship twenty miles out from land...that was a weird one. Don' even remember how I got there...or where I'd been drinkin' b'fore hand. Played poker wit' the crew durin' the Journey t' their next port."

"That's not that weird..." Rogue reasoned. "A little odd, but not overly weird."

"Okay...how about this? Once woke up next t' a transexual exotic dancer called 'Tiffany'. Apparently I had just crashed at 'her' place after spendin' the night learnin' how t' pole dance t' Tom Jones' song 'Sex Bomb'."

She blinked.

"When I woke up I was wearing those platform see-through stripper shoes and a boa...and ever since I've had a pretty hard time gettin' that damn song outta m' head."

"Remind me to not let you drink in future, Remy..." Rogue frowned. The image she had in her head of Remy spinning around a stripper pole dancing to 'Sex Bomb' she was sure was about to stick in her head forever more. She would never be able to hear that song ever again without picturing it. She supposed she should lock that thought away for when she was at her most desperate and despairing and needed some serious laughter.

Or at least lock it away for blackmail purposes should he ever annoy her in future.

"People drink on vacation, chere, and they get a little crazy. It's normal," he said casually, he studied the view, his expression placid. "Why you think people go away for vacation instead of stayin' in their home towns? T' get away and do stupid shit they wouldn't normally do."

"Shouldn't be drinkin' when you're under age," she remarked coolly. It wasn't the under age drinking that worried her, but to say so would cause only conflict between them and it felt too early into their vacation for her to start picking fights.

"Yeah, well," he glanced towards her, "We're eighteen, and eighteen isn't under age here so no laws gon' be broke. Anyway, my I.D. Shows me as Jeremy LeNoir, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Rogue made a face, "the twenty-five year old snob."

"Chill out, we're here to relax..." he shoved her playfully.

"Ah know," she forced a smile.

"In seven days we'll be heading back to Bayville; in the meantime, I suggest y' enjoy what peace and tranquillity y' have while y' can," he stretched and gave a yawn. "Y' gon' miss it."

Rogue watched him; it was hard to read him now that he was away from the horrible memories of his old home. It was like he was a different person away from that place. However, he wasn't a different person; on the outside he may have been very good at playing a character, but Rogue knew flying to France and escaping his old home wasn't going to stifle the problems of the person inside of that character. Nothing was that simple.

Remy pushed himself away from the balcony rail and went back into the room, he combed his hair away from his face with his fingers and sat upon the edge of the king sized bed.

"Satin sheets," she said with a glance at the bed, which seemed ridiculously oversized after spending the past few weeks sleeping in a small single bed crushed up against someone else. It wasn't the only bed in the Villa either, there was another room down the hall, and they were connected by a bathroom even grander than the one from the hotel in Las Vegas.

"Yeah...very decadent," he let his fingers glide over the cream-coloured shimmering material. "Y' ever sleep in satin sheets, chere?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his smooth voice.

"Not really," she confessed as she stepped into the room, she stood by the wall, watching him.

"Nothin' like slippin' beneath cool clean satin sheets on a hot night," he replied, he stretched himself across the bed and smirked, "nude of course."

"Sick," Rogue made a face. "You don't know who the hell has been sleepin' between those sheets. What if they didn't even wash them?"

"Price I paid for this pad, them sheets better b' brand new," Remy frowned at the sheets for a moment.

"What did you pay for this?" Rogue asked curiously, folding her arms.

"Never y' mind," he smirked. "Enough. Lets just say I paid enough."

Rogue eyed the bed up again, she felt frustrated with the idea of sharing a bed draped with expensive satin sheets with the boy. "So..." she said. It seemed he almost read her mind, because he immediately responded.

"This your bed," he patted with a soft laugh. "I also got the warnin' about separate rooms from Logan before we left."

"Ohh," she mouthed.

"I'm gon' sleep in the room down the hall," he swung his thumb over his shoulder. "We'll be sharin' a bathroom, though. And the rooms are connected by the bathroom, just so y' know," he teased, "in case y'...y' know, wan' to sneak over or anythin'."

"That won't be happening," Rogue raised an eyebrow at him as she glanced at the bed uneasily, she felt it would be strange to sleep alone in a bed that seemed four or five times the size of her own bed at home in Bayville. It would be just strange to sleep alone in any bed now that she hadn't done so since becoming a married woman. The closest she'd come to sleeping alone since had been on the couch in their honeymoon suite.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

"No," she answered. Truthfully, no, there was nothing wrong with having a bed to herself again, finally. She just wished this luxury vacation had been a little less luxury. Perhaps it was too luxurious to enjoy. Even living in a mansion, she'd never been used to - what Kitty had always referred to as – the good life. It had been uncomfortable enough spending a night in the honeymoon suite of their hotel in Vegas...everything had been so pristine and perfect she'd been afraid of touching things at times...almost like she'd get things dirty. And she always found it hard to not be conscious of the prices of these places and how the money could somehow be put to better use.

Remy patted the bed in front of him and inclined his head for her to join him. She chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully and studied him for a moment as he lay there on his side, head propped upon his hand.

She felt her cheeks heat up a little, and she looked down to the floor.

"C'mere," he commanded.

It felt awkward, still. Even after all they had been through together. They hadn't spent real time alone since they had said they loved each other; every moment Logan had been barely a room away. From the airport to the plane, there'd always been people. Even during the car ride in their rented car on the way here, there'd been people on the road, they had never felt alone for even a moment.

Until now.

Looking around the room, then at the view behind her, Rogue suddenly realised just how secluded they were, and how intimate it really was. He'd planned it to be that way, there weren't going to be interruptions, there was no one to disrupt their time together. It was him and her...no one else. And it felt completely awkward.

For that moment, she'd wished to go back to Bayville just for the company...for the intrusions. It was something they'd always had to face at the LeBeau house...Jean-Luc being there, or Henri...or his 'guests'...when they weren't at the house, they were always going somewhere, doing something, rarely ever alone together. It was like Vegas all over again, it was like starting at the beginning of their rather odd journey together...the tension of having to be in a room designed mainly for romance alone with none other than Mr. Romance himself.

"C'mon...what y' standin' there all by your lonesome for?" he said, voice sweet and thick like molasses, eyelids heavy, a slightly knowing smile on his face. "Ain't got cooties, y' know."

She pushed herself away from the wall slowly and came to join him on the bed, she sat upon the furthest edge to try and give some distance between them; however, trying to sit right on the edge caused her to nearly slip because the sheets were definitely slippery. She hated the hot burning embarrassment that reddened her cheeks as he laughed a little at her. A second attempt, she climbed onto the bed a little more and sat on one leg, looking down at him in his comfortable lounging position.

A strange thought crossed her mind; if they had been a normal couple, right now they'd have been making love right there on the bed. Or at least making out. As it was, they weren't a normal couple...in fact, they weren't even technically a couple. Or were they? It was hard to define what this was exactly.

"What?" he asked; he noted the expression on her face, his eyes locked with hers.

"Nothin'," she replied, she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked around the room; the walls were all stark white, but somehow didn't seem stark at all with the right décor, the right furniture, the right view. There were large pillar candles on each night stand, on the dresser directly opposite from the bed; she'd even noted candles in the bathroom and on the balcony too.

"Y' have somethin' troublin' y'," he admitted.

"Was just thinkin'...this is so...different...y'know..." she gestured around the room. "Compared to your house I mean."

Remy groaned, "do we got t' talk about that place?"

"I just mean...this is all so...weird..."

"Weird? I think it's exquisite," he glanced around briefly, his expression serene.

Rogue wasn't surprised he felt that way, he seemed to be the kind of boy who liked everything decadent and extravagant. Remy was a man who liked to indulge in everything, and she should have realised when he'd made his bookings (he must have spent hours at that iPhone planning) that this was what they would have been coming to. Extravagance and beauty to make up for the horrors and the ugliness he'd grown up with. It might mask them, but it would never make them disappear from his memories and the thought of it all would never make it disappear from hers.

"You don't like all this?" he asked, almost disappointedly.

"Yeah, it's nice," she shrugged.

"Just nice, huh?" his expression looked hurt, but his lips struggled to refrain from smirking.

"It's lovely, Remy."

"Don't y' ever let y'self enjoy anythin', chere?" he asked with a slightly frustrated sigh.

"I'm enjoying it," she replied calmly. "Ah'm just not used to this. Even my room in the mansion is ordinary..."

"Yeah I saw," Remy replied. "Nothin' wrong with a little luxury though. We've had a hard few weeks, we deserve this."

Rogue supposed he was right, but it was he who more so deserved it than she did, she was almost certain she'd enjoy watching him enjoy it more. She hoped at least it was distracting him as much as it seemed to be. He needed distracting.

"So...what y' wan' do?" He asked. He was normally so twitchy, always tapping fingers, shifting about from foot to foot, moving around, that it surprised Rogue he was so...calm, so relaxed right now. It was almost briefly reassuring.

"Ah dunno...what would you suggest?" she queried, trying to get herself out of her sombre thoughts.

"Sunbathin'...look at y' skin...it's whiter than these walls."

"Ah don't really tan," she shrugged, "Ah've always been this colour."

"Is it the lack of sunlight, or is it just your skin? I've always wondered," he confessed, he reached across and ran his finger across the thin mesh of her sleeve.

She pulled her arm back nervously and rubbed it almost as if his touch had burned her. Perhaps psychologically it had. "Ah don't know..." she answered.

He seemed slightly troubled by her recoiling so quickly, but he composed himself, "Never been sunburned?"

"Don't think so," she responded, "When...Ah was a kid, Irene always told me to take care of my skin...wear the highest factor sunscreen Ah can..." she explained, "she always got scared Ah'd end up with skin cancer."

"No sunbathin' then?" he asked.

"Can try," she answered.

"Y' bring a bikini?" he asked, Rogue didn't miss the sound of hopefulness in his voice.

"T-shirt and jeans is about it," she responded.

"That's a no then..."

"Ah'm not a beach kinda person," she shrugged.

"So no swimsuit?"

"No."

He gave a laugh, "Y' so predictable, y' know."

"Huh?"

"C'mon, we're on vacation. Show some goddamn skin."

"Ah have to be careful. You know that."

"Not here y' don't. I took every precatution for y'. We have this whole beach t' ourselves. No one gon' be at risk, so lighten up..." he got up from the bed and moved over to where he'd left the bag that had come with the shirt he'd bought at the gift shop. "Here...you're so g'damn predictable I knew this would come in handy," he tossed it at her playfully.

Rogue raised an eyebrow and caught it; there was still something inside. Curiously, she opened the bag and glanced inside; a brand new black bikini.

"There's two bottoms in there...I wasn't sure which ones y' generally wear...the full type or the thong...so I picked the both..." he commented, "Please let it be the thong..."

"Ah can't wear this...what about you? You'd be at risk."

"I can keep my distance," he assured. "I'll just have t' admire y' from afar. Please wear the thong."

Rogue gave a vague uncomfortable laugh. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of him admiring her in any sense and especially not in a thong.

"Go on...try it on..." he suggested.

It's a vacation...we have a private beach, it should be fine right? I mean...he's...seen more of me than this bikini is probably gonna show. I should try to just go with it, right? Skin to him is nothing new...he's seen more strippers than I've had hot dinners.

She gazed down at the bikini in her hands. Although she felt insecure about her body and the danger of her powers, logic told her that there was nothing to worry about here.

Finally, she decided to play along, especially if it was going to make him happy. If he was capable of playing the part that everything was fine, she should make the effort to try to do the same. "Yeah, okay, leave the room then."

"Peep show?" he asked hopefully.

"How about I take that letter opener over there and make your right plum match your left?"

"Kinky," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Out."

"What if I just turn my back?"

"You think I don't see the mirror there?" she frowned.

"I've already seen you naked. Twice. Aren't we over this yet?"

"NO!"

"Okay, okay. I guess I'll go on ahead," he retrieved the other bag from the gift shop, the one he'd brought containing the new towels and lotions. "I'll see y' on the beach..."

"Okay..."

"And chere?" he stopped at the door.

"Hmm?"

"Wear the thong."

"Get out!"

Remy darted out of the room, she heard his almost goofy laughter. She waited for a moment, moving to gaze out of the window as he walked down towards the beach. "The things Ah do for you, Remy LeBeau," she muttered. "The things Ah do."

The water felt good as it lapped around Remy LeBeau's bare feet as he wandered across the beach enjoying the rippling of the water as the slow waves came in to meet the shore. He glanced up to the villa slightly up the hill just off the beach and wondered how long it could take a woman to get into a bikini. He'd been down here twenty minutes now and she still hadn't joined him yet.

His eyes swept over the blue-green water and he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like his whole life. He was free of home, he didn't have to tolerate his brother any more, and he was far away from the prying eyes of his old town. The cherry on the sundae, of course was that he was on a stunning beach sharing a vacation with the girl he loved. What could be better?

What could be better? He wondered. Maybe if she'd stop bringin' up this damn annulment thing, he decided.

"This thing is too darn tight."

He turned around, his eyes falling on the scarily pale figure of Rogue. She was long and lean, and looked somewhat thinner than she had two weeks ago – he supposed stress and lack of eating right had done that to her. And yet, for as thin as she was the black bikini did seem to be digging in slightly to her bust and her hips. It didn't look bad though...weren't they meant to to be held firmly in place like that?

"I like it...suits you," he admitted as he admired from where he stood. He made a mental note to take her out for many high calorie fattening meals...he wanted to be sure she was well taken care of now that they were married.

Marriage...such an odd word to still be thinking of. Marry, married, marrying, marriage...all words he would need to start refraining from using. They didn't plan on telling Rogue's friends in Bayville about their marriage...that had been Logan's command. Only Logan and the Professor apparently knew about this strange union, and they had been warned upon returning to Bayville, they were going to get an annulment whether they liked it or not.

Remy couldn't help but feel slightly bothered that Rogue hadn't even argued the point with Logan. What did it matter if they remained married? They were legally adults, although she still had a year of high school to contend with (her final year thanks to a lot of school she'd missed), and no harm could really come with remaining married anyway, could it?

Rogue folded her arms over her exposed stomach, "I feel gross."

"You look great."

"Ah don't have the body for a bikini."

"Could have fooled me," Remy replied, raising an eyebrow, his eyes falling on the fantastic way her breasts pressed together. He was thankful he'd been able to slightly underestimate the top size, it made the view much more interesting than this spectacular beach. "Y' wanna swim?" he asked.

"Nah, not in the mood to get soaked right now..."

Remy came to approach her, making note to keep at least five feet away from her at all times, "lets walk then," he offered, she gave a vague shrug of agreement, and off they went.

Together, they sauntered down the beach, quiet, reflective, as the water lapped gently at the sand, erasing their footprints; there didn't seem to be other sounds for miles and the silence was reassuring. Rogue walked with her arms folded across her chest, he could tell just by her insecure posture, the way she hunched her back, tried to hide herself from him that she was ashamed of how she looked.

"Y' look fine, y'know," he admitted a good ten minutes later.

"Ah'm not used to goin' out lookin' like this," she sighed. "It...feels weird."

"Looks great," he assured. "I didn't realise y' were so...buff..."

Her stopped and turned to him, eyes raised to him, "Buff?"

"Yeah...toned thighs, toned abs...I never really had th' chance t' have a good look b'fore but...damn, y' been holdin' out on me...y' should show it off more."

"Ah can't. My skin is poison...Ah could kill someone."

"You keep lookin' like that, chere, kill me all you damn want."

"That ain't funny," her brows furrowed.

"I'm kiddin'...look, it's just us here," he reminded. "While we're here alone y' can dress however y' want...can go around naked if y' want," he teased.

Rogue frowned, "You wish."

"Yes. I do. I really do."

Her eyes fell to the ground; she dug her toes in to the sand.

Her insecurities and her innocence made his heart swell in ways that nothing else on God's green Earth ever could. The kind of shyness she had usually frustrated him with other woman, but with Rogue, he somehow found it more endearing and oddly reassuring.

"I'm kiddin'..." he murmured softly as he unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off and wrapped it around her shoulders, "here..." he smiled.

She chewed her lip, her cheeks turning pink at the gesture of him giving his shirt to her to cover her bare torso. "Look, even if Ah wasn't a mutant..." she began as she let him fix the collar around her neck. "Ah still wouldn't be comfortable walkin' around in a bikini..."

"Why not?"

"'Cause Ah'm not like the girls like Tabitha and Jean...they're so...confident, y'know? They can wear anythin' they want and feel good and look good wearin' it. Ah've just never been like that."

"Y' used to be. Y' used to wear all these cute little see through tops with the belly tops beneath...seems t' me y' felt confident wearin' that," he shrugged.

"Ah wore that to beat the heat."

"Was surprised y' could stand it back in Louisiana...y' were wearin' hoodies in the goddamn height of summer...musta been killin' y'."

"Ah was hot..." she shrugged. "But Ah had to be careful in case Ah hurt you or someone else..."

"Y' not gon' hurt anyone out here..." he promised, he slung his arm over her shoulders. "Y' gon' have no trouble with that here at all. You got nothin' to worry about here except your tan..." he grinned. "Now c'mon, lets head back. Y' can get changed and we'll go into town for some supplies."

End of Part One

Thanks to anyone who expressed interest in the sequel and asked for it, and thanks ahead of time to anyone who may review this. I hope it satisfied even if nothing interesting occurred, etc. Hope you all have a good week. :)