Author's Notes: I think I've been lurking around this site as a guest for a long time. But with the lack of current Romy stories now (here and in the current comic runs), I've finally plucked the courage to write my own fic. This is my first time writing a narrative in a LONG time so maybe it's not up to par with what you're used to (I'm sorry, I'm still learning). The story is set to take place in Astonishing X-Men coming out later in July (anyone excited to see Romy on the same team again?). I'm really disappointed with how their relationship has been handled in recent runs and as hopeful as I am, I know I'll be set for disappointment when AXM comes out (Marvel writers really hate us, huh?). So to prepare myself, and perhaps you, for the said disappointment, I've written this one-shot as I envision what their 'reunion' would be like or what I hope to see in the series. The events mentioned here are canon for the most part, other than the encounter with the Shadow King (which I have described rather ambiguously in the story because I really lack the imagination when it comes to action, I'll leave it to your own imagination) who has been revealed as the main antagonist in AXM. Also, I chose not to write Rogue and Remy with their accents mainly because I don't know how to write a Cajun accent. Sorry for talking so much, I think that's all. Enjoy! (Rates and reviews are greatly appreciated btw)

Saudade [saʊˈdɑːdə, Portuguese]: The feeling of intense longing for a person or place you love but is now lost. A haunting desire for what is gone.

Saudade

"So that's it then, you're just gonna ignore me?" The sound of Remy's gruff voice finally penetrated the heavy silence that hung awkwardly between them.

Rogue didn't stir.

"Ah, the silent treatment. Classic,' Remy mused aloud despite himself. The woman, perched on a wooden stool before him, continued the monotonous task of bandaging his right bicep, his attempts to lighten the atmosphere harshly dismissed.

She moved closer to properly dress his wound. A little too close.

Remy's breath caught in his throat. Silently, he cursed himself. He hated how, after all their time apart, Rogue still had this effect on him. Physically, he was here, in his long-abandoned room in the mansion-cum-school; he seated on the edge of his bed, Rogue on the stool facing him. Mentally, he was elsewhere, his mind digging up memories he struggled to keep buried. Memories of a time where they were young and in love, living a life they fought to build together along the coast of California. Of a time where they could leave the task of saving the world to someone else while they focused on each other like they longed for. Of a time where they could enjoy the simplest pleasures of life that were denied to them for so long. Of a time where the seemingly innocent act of dressing cuts and bruises had turned into a form of foreplay. He smiled at that memory. He remembered how afterwards, they would remain in bed, huddled up closely together, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, talking mindlessly. Just them against the world. They were so happy.

Now, she wouldn't even look at him.

Remy cleared his throat, shaking himself free of the bittersweet memories as Rogue moved on to clean the wounds that decorated his bare chest. Still, she made no attempts of acknowledging his presence, as if she was attending to a ghost instead of the man she had once loved with every fibre of her being. Not once had she looked him in the eye since they got to his room. Earlier, he had insisted on self-dressing his wounds rather than have Hank attend to him in the med lab. Rogue had protested vehemently but Remy was nothing if not stubborn. Frustrated, Rogue gave in and offered her help instead. She hadn't spoken a word to him since.

"You know, I don't even know why you're so upset at me for. I did it, I stopped the Shadow King. And because of that, the X-Men live to save another day for a world that hates them. A 'thank you' would be nice," Remy said matter-of-factly.

That did it for Rogue. She snapped.

"Oh yeah? So should I be thanking you too if I brought your dead body back here for Hank to cut open and poke around, before I bury you next to the Professor, to Jean, to Scott?" Her words tumbled out relentlessly. Her green eyes pierced fiercely through his, a fiery anger pooled in them.

Of all the things Remy had expected her to say, that definitely wasn't it.

"Come on, chere. Don't you think you're being a little too harsh? I'm fine, nothing happe-" he started to reason before he was interrupted mid-sentence.

"Fine?!' Rogue raised her voice in disbelief. "Look at you, Remy! God, you have wounds everywhere! You were good as dead if I wasn't there! Why do you keep doing this?!" Surprised by her own outburst, she got up and paced around the room, pinching the bridge of her nose as she went about – a quirk he had grown accustomed to over the years. He watched her silently.

Finally, after collecting herself, she resumed her perch on the stool. Her voice softened, a complete contrast to her initial demeanour. "You were just… lying there when I found you. If I hadn't gotten there in time, you'd be crushed by the…" she trailed off, not wanting to be reminded of the plausible turn of affairs.

He got it now.

"Rogue, I'm here, aren't I? Yeah, maybe I have a bruise here and there, but it's nothing I can't handle," he tried to soothe her.

His words went unheard. "You do this all the time. You did it with Vargas, with Apocalypse, and now the Shadow King," Rogue lamented, more to herself than to him.

Her words sunk in. Memories of the past came flooding back to him, this time uninvited and unpleasant. Years ago, before they had built their lives together in Valle Soleada, Remy had willingly sacrificed himself to stop Vargas, believing that exchanging his life for the world was enough to atone for all his past sins. He had accepted his death, embraced it even, before Rogue brought him back. He saw the same memory play itself out again, this time with Apocalypse. He had offered himself up as one of Apocalypse's four horsemen, as Death, with the belief that he was strong enough to resist Death's corrupt influences to help the X-Men. Instead, he saw his hand, the unnatural colour of soot, wrapped tightly around his lover's neck, threatening to cut off her air supply. It was his love for her that stopped him from taking the next step. Like always, she was his saving grace.

And he had hurt her. Again.

"Rogue, I'm sorry. I didn't-", his words were cut off again. This time, he decided that he would just let her talk.

"You always just run off, thinking that you have to do whatever it is you're doing alone. That you can't share that burden with anyone else. With me. That you have to do this... this big, amazing thing to make up for all the bad things you've done in the past." She paused, her eyes softening. "Is that really what you think of yourself? That you're so bad, so evil that the only way to redemption is to give up everything you have, without thinking about how far you've come to get there in the first place?"

She didn't give him time to answer.

"We've lost so many people over the years, Remy. And I've lost you way too many times. I've pushed you away when I should have let you in." She stopped then, as if to be overridden by a distant memory. She felt herself smile despite herself. "Valle Soleada has been, without a doubt, the best part of my life. That giddiness I felt waking up next to you every morning, that feeling was just…" She didn't have the words for it. The way her face lit up said it all. "If you had told me then what our lives would be like now, I would have fought for us."

Her smile faltered. "But I didn't. I let you walk away, I let myself walk away."

Remy thought then about the proposition he had offered her back on Utopia. He had poured his heart and soul out to her, swore his commitment to her – only to watch her walk right into the arms of her magnetic new friend. She had chosen a man she barely knew over him, to uphold memories that weren't her own. It had hurt him terribly. It still stung now.

"I still thought of you, you know. Even when I was seeing other people, I thought of you. All the time. Wondering what trouble you were getting yourself into, if you were okay. If you had someone else be there for you the way I wasn't… If you missed me," she added as an afterthought. "Which was selfish of me to think, when I was spending my time with someone else." She looked away from him then, feeling embarrassed.

After a passing moment, she spoke again. "I tried, you know, really tried, to convince myself that I didn't need you. Tried to find comfort in men I knew I could never love. Telling myself that I didn't make a mistake in letting you go. But then, seeing you lying there today, motionless, it really hit me. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you… forever. I can't imagine a life without you, Remy. I'm ashamed that it took such extreme circumstances for me to realise that. I wish I could tell the young, naïve me that I'll never be able to stop loving you."

There it was. The L word. Remy couldn't remember the last time he heard it from Rogue, or from anyone else for that matter. He had never stayed long enough for his flings to be anything more than just that. Rogue was an exception though. For her, he would stay till the very end.

He sat there, processing everything she had just told him. Her cold behaviour earlier and the outburst that followed weren't because she was mad at him, but more at herself. For a split second, he thought of letting her have a taste of her own medicine, of hurting her the way she had hurt him back on Utopia – this game of cat and mouse that they're all too familiar with. Looking at her sombre expression, the thought dissipated faster than it came to light. For so long, he had waited for this moment, to make things right again. He wasn't about to ruin it out of spite. He loved her too much.

Gently, he reached for her hands, soft and delicate beneath his callused palms.

"Anna, why didn't you tell me any of this before?" he questioned, his deep voice calm and patient.

Anna. The sound of her real name ignited something in her. Aside from Raven, Remy was the only one who addressed her by her birth name. Since they had been apart, she had only ever been called Rogue. She missed being Anna. She loved that he brought her back.

"Ego, cowardice, fear, embarrassment, regret, stupidity. Take your pick," she answered.

Remy pursed his lips. He took in the sight of the woman before him. Once youthful, exuberant and glowing, with a tinge of child-like innocence, she now looked dull, tired and worn-out, burdened by the weight of her problems and the world on her shoulders. It broke his heart.

He tightened the hold of her hands in his. "Chere, I wish you'd come to me sooner. But maybe this is Fate's way of bringing us back together and I'll be damned if I don't take up her offer," he said, red-on-black eyes meeting her green ones.

Rogue opened her mouth as if to say something but shut it back closed. Her eyes were searching his, uncertainty and disbelief etched on her face. She wanted reassurance but didn't couldn't bring herself to ask him in words. Foolish as it was, she was scared that the moment itself would cease if she said it aloud.

But she didn't need to. Remy could read her like an open book. He smiled. "I think you, and everyone in this whole damn place, know this by now, Anna. But I'm going to say it anyway. I am so hopelessly, deeply in love with you. I always have been and I always will be. What I said in Utopia, I meant it, I still do. I can't imagine being with anyone else, Rogue. But I know this ain't gon be easy. We've both done things to hurt each other in the past. It'll take a lot to undo all the hurting but we'll work on it together. No more running away from each other. We take on things together, the two of us as one. I'm ready to give us another shot, if you're ready too. I think we've waited long enough, non?"

She lost it then. Her eyes became glassy, tears threatening to spill over. This man, this beautiful man, she thought, was willing to give her another chance despite the hurt she had caused him and each other. He loved her that much. All this time, her foster mother had thought that Remy wasn't worthy of her daughter's love. This time though, Rogue wasn't certain if she was worthy of his.

Gently, she removed her right hand from his soft hold and brought it to his stubbled cheek, moving her body closer to his. Caressing his cheek, she whispered, "I don't deserve you, Remy LeBeau."

"Hush, don't say that, chere. We deserve each other," he said in a whisper as he motioned his head closer, fixating his eyes on hers the whole time. The corner of her mouth curled in a soft smile. Mon Dieu, I so wanna kiss her now, he thought.

"I love you, Cajun." She barely got the words out when she felt the softness of his lips on her own. Moving in a soft, languid motion, she was lost in the kiss, taking in the gentleness, tenderness of him – a stark contrast to the brazen disposition he put on around others. She couldn't help but feel proud that only she had the privilege of seeing this side of him, the side that he'd reserved only for her. Deepening the kiss, she moved her arms to the back of his neck, tugging tenderly at his hair. It was much shorter than she was used to, but she found that she loved how it brought out his sharp features.

She felt his hands, roughened from years of combat training, moved to lie low on her waist. Almost subconsciously, she lifted her arms up above her head. Taking in the signal, he tugged on the hem of her black tank top, broke apart from her momentarily, pulled the clothing swiftly over her head and discarded it somewhere on the carpeted floor. Fuelled by the desire pooling low in her belly, she rose up slightly to push her body impossibly closer to his, his face now levelled with her chest. As he worked to unhook her bra and kissed her breasts, she cradled his head, soft sighs of pleasure and love escaping her mouth.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this.

It wasn't until he moved them to the bed that the beckoning thought which had been playing at the back of her mind snapped her back to her senses.

"Wait," she called out breathlessly as he hovered over her, both of them now devoid of any clothing. "Are you sure we can do this? I mean, you're still hurt," she struggled to say, keeping her own arousal in check.

Remy smirked. "Like I said, chere, nothing I can't handle. I promise," he answered before planting his lips on hers again. It had been so long since they had been together in this way. He wasn't about to let a stupid injury (or injuries for that matter) stop him from making love to her.

He trailed his kisses from her lips, to her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbone to the valley between her breasts. Rogue felt like her body was on fire. He was so gentle, so tender, so reverend of her body that she couldn't help but be reminded of their first coupling in that Antarctic cave all those years ago. It was almost as he was scared that she would disappear from his hold if he wasn't careful enough. Still, she basked in the pleasure that he was igniting in her. She moved her hands to caress the vast canvas of skin and muscle on his back as he trailed his kisses to the peak of each breast, licking and nibbling softly.

He continued to trail his kisses further down; on the underside of her breasts, over her the dip of her belly button, across her flat tummy, on the skin over her hip bones, to her inner thighs, and finally to the juncture between her legs which desperately craved his attention. Rogue's breath caught in her throat when she felt his soft lips and the darting of his tongue on the sensitive flesh there. Unable to control herself, she gripped his hair and let out a long, low drawl. Remy chuckled, amused at her lack of control and the effect he had on her.

Before she could reach completion, he moved back to cover her body with his, silencing her protests with his lips. Rogue revelled in the familiar weight of him atop her, the feel of his skin on hers clouding her mind. She moved her hands over the hard plains of his chest, careful to avoid any of the wounds there. She trailed her fingers lightly over his well-defined abs, following the thin trail of hair that led to the manhood pressing urgently against her thigh. She stroked him, knowing from memory exactly what to do to drive him over the edge. He moaned, head buried in the crook of her neck. Not wanting to end this earlier than necessary, he removed her hand from his aching arousal and pinned both her arms over her head. He planted chaste kisses all over her face, pausing momentarily to look her closely. Albeit a little older, she looked just as ravishing as he remembered her to be when he first laid eyes on her during that game of basketball with Logan and Jubilee all those years ago.

That young Remy LeBeau had no idea what he was in for. He smiled at the thought.

"Je t'aime, Rogue," he whispered softly.

"I love you, too."

Rogue traced the outline of the scar etched on the skin over where his heart was. They were huddled on the bed together, fully sated from the course of their lovemaking moments before.

"Even after all this time, it's still there," she commented.

"What is, chere?"

"This." She touched the scar lightly.

"Oh."

"Mine's gone. Disappeared when I absorbed Logan's healing factor."

They settled into a comfortable silence. After a while, Remy spoke. "I like it though, the scar. I like the story behind it. Of the girl who saved my life… more times than I can remember. My own ange." (1)

Rogue felt something in her bloom. Remy was the only man to ever make her feel that way. Lifting her head from where it rested on his chest, she kissed him squarely on his lips, the action saying more than her words ever could. After a moment, they broke apart.

"Will you be going back with the Avengers, chere? Continue to shove sticks up each other's asses? " he queried, playing with her hair.

She swatted him playfully. "I did the most I can with the Avengers. I led my team, helped with problems on the Avengers' side… got the last remaining piece of the Professor back. But I feel like I can do more here. As a mutant. As an X-Man. I think it's time I come back home to my family," she said, a hint of seriousness to her tone.

"And to your man," Remy added.

"And to my man," Rogue repeated, letting out a chuckle.

Just the two of them against the world. They couldn't be any happier.

THE END

(1) X-Treme X-Men – Vargas shish-kebab'ed Rogue and Remy with his sword.