Author Note(s): Ha, another Romy fluff funny short thing...YEAH. I live for one-shots.

Another note is that Remy actually wears a duster, but everyone assumes it's a trench coat so yeah. I just said trench coat.

I don't own X-Men Evolution.

"Chere," Remy LeBeau, lady's man extraordinaire started.

"Hush it, Swamp Rat," Rogue, previously untouchable goth, ordered.

"But-" Remy started again only to get a glare. He smirked, crossing his arms. "Why is it that ya are so obsessed with-"

"No questions," Rogue ordered, taking a deep breath. She sighed, enjoying the aroma.

"Now dat just isn't fair," Remy whined. Rogue crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"Ah will weahr yer trench coat if Ah wanna," she told him firmly, turning her back to him. Remy smirked, thoroughly amused.

"And why would you do dat?" He asked, moving closer to her. "Chere, y'know that if you wanna smell me, or do anything with me, I'm open arms."

"Whoevah said I wanted ta do anything with ya?" Rogue retorted defensively. Remy shrugged, that playful smirk remaining on his face.

"Oh, I don't know," he said in a velvety voice. "Could be dat you just want me to wrap my arms around ya so you can smell more of my distinct and alluring aroma." Rogue laughed at this, wrapping the coat tighter around her body. It was so much baggier on her. It was so warm and smelled of Louisiana spices, tobacco, and Remy's cologne that smelled way better than that Axe crap. But beneath all of that was a scent that was definitely distinctly Remy.

While lost in the feel of the coat, she felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind and felt herself being pulled into a firm chest. His breath nipped at her neck as he hovered mere centimeters from her skin.

"I tell ya what, mon River Rat," he purred, sending chills down her spine. "You can keep dat coat. Jus' as long as I keep my items." Rogue bit back a whine of frustration as the firm body behind her moved away. She turned and looked at him, confused. Then, she saw that with his skilled hands, he had managed to gather everything that had been in his multiple pockets and hidden parts of the coat. Aghast, Rogue wondered how she hadn't felt those marvelous-wait, slimy hands as they had entered the coat. The Cajun's smirk grew even wider at the look on her face.

"Is there anything ya can't do with those hands a' yers?" Rogue asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Come ta my room tonight and we'll see," Remy said suggestively, turning and running as Rogue threw a couch pillow at him.