This takes place a bit after when Rogue and Remy are powerless in Valle Soleado and when they are brought back to the team to help Storm. After Remy has gotten his powers back from Sage but before Rogue got her powers back. Loosely follows the story arcs.

I know that this took place a few years back in the X universe... but it's all good fun, and really the way their relationship has gone is so not fun and exciting. Been wanting to write this idea out since the Madripoor saga with Vargas. And I guess you could tie this in to recent story arcs with a good imagination.

Please R/R! More Chapters coming! They are all planned out and ready to be written!

Characters are from Marvel's X men and I do not claim any rights to them.

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The large black door hissed as it slowly and mechanically opened. From the belly of the ship five tired warriors wandered out. It had been a long week, and now it was over. They all bid their farewells as they parted ways in the hall. A cloaked warrior dragged his feet down the marble floor through the ornate wood lined halls. It had been an exhausting mission, they only planned to be gone for a couple days, but chasing some knave mutants around stole a week. The grizzled man was happy to be home, to be able to sleep on a bed instead of those hard cots on the xwing. He smelled the oiled mahogany paneled hall, a familiar scent, while his hands shuffled through his pockets to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. The one thing he hated about missions was the no smoking policy. With a quick flash of his wrist a cigarette appear in his hand and guided it to his dry chapped lips. Flicking the lighter the cigarette lit to a red glow. As he walked he pulled off his soiled jacket leaving it to drag behind him creating a wet path of his route. One long drag led him around a corner into a light bleached room. His deep eyes squinted as they readjusted to the light change, throwing his coat to the counter the tired homme made his way to the reflective industrial refrigerator.

"Hello Remy, how was the mission?" Scott leaned back in his chair holding a mug in his hands. "And please don't leave your filthy jacket on the counter."

"eh? Oh désolé..." The cajun said through the cigarette. He shut the fridge with a beer in hand and pulled his jacket off the counter. There was a wet mark made from the heavy soiled lump. With plodding tired feet he dragged himself over to table where Scott lounged. Releasing the stick from his mouth he responded with a cloud of smoke, "Did Storm keep you informed during the mission, no?"

"Yeah"

Grabbing a dish to ash in Remy looked at Scott under his brow, "So y' know how big ova waste of time it was. Ah miss'd my classes fora whil' goose chase." He pried the bottle cap off with the edge of the table, brought the bottle up to his lips, "Next time don ask me to do not'ing." titled his head back and took a long drink of the hops.

"I didn't think it was going to turn into what it was, I'm sorry. Dani took care of your classes."

Remy nodded his head in disapproval as he poured more into his mouth.

"Ororo told me about the fight you had, are you ok? She said you fell from pretty high after that child got you on the arm. I can call Hank to give you a clean dressing." Scott sipped on his tea, the steam fogged his glasses as he glanced up to look at Remy.

Remy glared at Scott, the idea of being hit by a bebe infuriated him, he was almost out of the way but that damn bebe got him. Cut him down the arm. How could he have been too slow. Continuing his stare down, "Na kid iz goin t' take Gambit out, 'Ro she's jus worried. I'm fine, jus' a bruise."

"Are you sure? Ororo said that kid got you real bad, and you had been careless. Maybe I need to pull you from missions, you seem not as quick, agile anymore. All that time off must've..."

Gambit's jaw clenched as Scott casually neutered him. "Don you start fuckin' tellin' me wha 'appened. You know I could take you one eyed bastard down wit a snap o my finger." Remy's eyes engulfed in flames from frustration quelling inside him.

Scott curled his lips and chuckled behind his mug.

Cigarette in mouth Remy pushed his body into stance from the table and grabbed his bottle and coat, "I'm off, homme, I'm tired from a unnecessary mission, and need ta give m' chere de good night she deserves." He tipped his bottle towards Summers and glared down, "Give my regards to Jea..." He quickly inhaled the rest of the word with a suck on his smoke and turned towards the door, with a smirk and a snap of his fingers, corrected "... Oh, dat's right poor Remy forgot... désolé...Emma." Happy with himself he whisked himself toward the hall.

"Rogue has been very anxious for you to come home, she's been sick over it." Scott said over his drink.

Remy stopped in the doorway, "Oui"

"She still doesn't have her powers, what are you going to do?"

After a long drag again a haze of smoke responded in disdain, "Je ne sais pas"

Scott stood up with his mug in his hands, he walked towards the door that Remy filled. Breaking the concentration from the tea in his mug Scott glanced towards the Cajun as he brushed past him and responded in a whisper, "Don't you fucking judge my own decisions when you can't even make your own." With that Summers walked down the mahogany corridor towards his quarters.

Frustrated Remy sucked on his cigarette and hastily started down the hall. Scott was fucking right, and that pissed him off. He really didn't know what to do. There was so much death around these days, not like how it use to be. They all were getting older, making way for the new, and there wasn't any turning back. He plodded up the grand staircase and towards the private quarters ashing as he went. Ears pricked listening to the slight laughter and giggles coming from the other wing. Even in this hour the young teenage mutants were gay and about. Here he was tired and achy. How he wished he could be them.

As he walked his mind slipped back to the days when he joined. Pool parties, trips to the city, long car drives, and kicking ass. His lips curled up as he thought and brought the cigarette up to those lips again for one last draw. His lips drew to a larger smile as he exhaled the last of his fix and he remember the first time they met. The clothes they wore... their uniforms... their hair... a light chuckle escaped from his chest.

LeBeau quietly unlocked a great wood door and opened it slightly to let him slip in. He squinted in the darkness trying to adjust his eyes and he peered across the room as he shut the door behind him. The moonlight danced through the sheers on the enormous leaded windows and frolicked over gentle hills. Moving up and down slowly and methodically the light ran along her outline. C'est Manifique.

He smiled to himself as he moved through a maze of boxes towards a thin door on the far wall. They hadn't even unpacked their belongings they accrued during their months at Valle Soleado. He had been gone most of the time and Rogue wanted to unpack their treasures together. She wanted to make their quarters a home like they had had, filled with pictures of their travels, loved ones, and nick knacks collected. He hated that he was gone most weeks since they had moved, and told Storm to discount him for at least the next couple missions. He was going to stay here with mon chere.

Almost to the bathroom Remy glanced back to the sleeping Rogue. He could see her shape forming under the thin sheets. Perfect form in every measurement. Rien, est parfaite de chaque manière. How could he resist her. A book on the ground stopped his thoughts and balance within steps of the threshold. Silently Remy caught himself stubbing his toe in the mean time. A small wince of pain escaped his lips as he jumped into the sanctity of the tiled toilette. He slowly shut the door guiding it with his hands. Remy knew how lightly Rogue slept and wanted to wake her in a more wonderful way.

Remy flipped the switch to the harsh florescent lights magnifying every crevice and scar on his face. He frowned a bit. "I look old" He moved his chin up and to the sides. He had lines around his mouth, his eyes, everywhere. His stubble had grown some white hairs on his chin line. "Mus' be de light." He responded to himself with a glare.

He stared at his face for a few more moments before blinking, breaking his concentration. It was getting late, would be morning soon. Remy peeled off his uniform, then under amour revealing his torso, it was bruised, dirty, and a canvas of scars from past fights. Looking at his arm he grinded his teeth from frustration, the bandage was brown with dried blood and sweat. "Dat stupid kid, I 'd have tore him a new one." He spat as he unwrapped the dirt stained cloth. He hadn't gotten a cut like this in awhile. How did he not move out of the way fast enough. How could this be happening. He couldn't get old, get slow. Remy shook the thoughts out of his head. Forties weren't over de hill anymore. He told his mind, he didn't feel old so therefor he wasn't. He was still young... fin.

He finished unwrapping his arm and tossed the wad into the trash. The blood was dried over his arm and crusted around the gash. Looked to be a little infected. Don' matter, he always has been a good healer. After rinsing his arm off he rummaged through the linen closet and found a fresh bandage and some menthol patches. He wrapped his arm back up wincing at the pain of pressure on his wound.

Remy looked again at himself in the mirror. The harsh light highlighted the scar on his chest as his fingers instinctively traced it's outline, the scar of the sword that killed him. The sword of a man who had tricked him and used him. Vargas. How could he have been tricked, tricked by a normal human, no powers... nothing.

And from that sword he had died.

This was his second life. "Don't judge my own decisions when you can't even make your own." Scott had said to him. What were his decisions. He knew he had to figure out his life with Rogue, he had just been running away from it for so long. He had finally started to accept the fact that she pulled him from death, from when he was finally at peace, and then restarted his powers without his approval, tried to move on from his anger. But this was as far as he had ever gotten, he didn't know what to do. His fingers traced the scar again. This was his proof showing Rogue's love for him.

Remy unzipped his pants and peeled them off his tired body, stood up and looked. He was dirty and marked. Slightly disfigured from scar tissue, he still had a wonderfully adonis shape better and more youthful than most any men his age, just to him he looked worn down. Not as puffed and full as he was in his twenties. He ran his hands through his hair catching on tangles and grease. There he stood, naked. Nothing to hide his age. "What are you doing wit your life, you not twenty no more." He glared into the mirror at himself, at his aging body, "Qui sont vous?" He whispered and a bit louder more demanding he repeated himself, "Qui sont vous!" He knew the image would not answer his cry. Remy turned away from his reflection in fear of himself and slipped on a clean pair of boxers. He wrapped menthol patches around his knee and shoulders, which now had become a nightly ritual to sooth the daily pains in his joints.

Barefooted he exited the tiled room and into the breezy bed chamber. The fresh air from the windows tickled his nose hairs and along the wind carried her scent. Closing his eyes he drank the liquor of her fragrance. Remy neared the bed and stared down at Rogue. She lay there smiling slightly, naked under the sheets. One perfect pink nipple shown out from over the edging of the sheet. Parfait.

Remy lifted his leg onto the bed and slowly leaned into it trying not to disturb her. He soon was over her sleeping face, lowering himself he brushed his lips against hers. His love moved slightly underneath him and her lips parted with the ends curling into a smile. He leaned on his elbows allowing fingers to explore the strands of her chestnut hair releasing more of her aroma. Again drunk in her fragrance he bent his head down and tasted her lips. Rogue with eyes closed pushed into the kiss wrapping her slender arms around his chest running her fingers along his backside.

Remy pulled his head up breaking their kiss to get a better look at her. Allowing his eyes to focus on the green eyes staring up at him, glazed and sparkling. Rogue smiled at the look he was giving her. Her fingers danced their way up his sides to his jaw and played with the locks of grungy hair stuck against his face.

"Bonsoir mon chere" He smiled staring into her eyes.

"Hiya swamp rat." She responded with a smirk as she pulled him down to suffocate her sentence.