Just another one shot. This was originally part of a multi-chapter story that I've decided to screw cause I ain't neva, eva, finishing the sucker. I hope ya'll like it...

**Remy has been at the mansion for just over a year. He and Rogue are dating, but not officially for neither will actually admit. They of course have their classic banter goin' on for them.

One morning, Hank, Ororo, and Logan were in the kitchen when they heard voices from the hall.

"No.''

"Please? It'd-"

"No."

"But, Ro-"

"No.''

"Why no-"

"No."

"But it'd be so fun!"

"No."

"It'd give ya' an excuse t' have your arms around dis Cajun."

"Remy, shut up! No!"

"Why not?''

Rogue and Remy entered the kitchen, although all present knew it was them long before they did.

"'Cause Ah don't wanna'! Ah've had bad experiences with it!"

"Ah, but ol' Remy wasn't dere."

"No!"

"Roguey, Please! Please, Please, Please, Please, Please Pleeeeeeee-"

"Remy."

"-eeeeeeeeee-"

"Remy!"

"-eeeaaaaaaa-"

"Remy, shut up!"

"-eaaaaaaaa-"

"Gawd, LeBeau, take a breath!"

"-eaaaaaaa-"

"Remy, Ah swear if ya' don't shut up, Ah'll hit ya' so hard in the balls there ain't a prayer around that could give ya' a chance o' reproducin'!"

He grinned wider but finally shut his wide open trap.

"Good." Rogue huffed walking over to the counter for her breakfast.

"So you'll do it?" He asked hopefully.

"*Ya' must be outta' your damn mind!* Hell, no!"

"Aww, Roguey, please! For me? Pleeeaaaa-"

"LeBeau, Ah swear t' God, if ya' start that again-''

"But what if no one else takes lessons? Da instructors are already hired and comin' t' da mansion next week! Morning and evenin' classes!" Remy whined.

"Not my problem." She told him exitting with a cup of coffee and a donut.

"Roguey! Ya' gotta' take lessons wit' Remy,chere! If ya' don't, I'll-I'll kill myself!"

"Ah'm gonna' kill ya' first if ya' don't shut up!" She growled. He begged her the whole way to her room. Finally in front of her door, she turned and exclaimed,

"Swamp Rat! Ah refuse to take dance lessons with you! Ah will not dance with you, especially in front of other people. So jus' drop it already!"

Once they were both inside, and the door was closed, he shut up. She was about to make a smart remark but then he took to staring at her intently. And walking towards her causing her to instinctively back up.

Her breath hitched when she found herself crushed against the wall, Remy pressing himself as close as possible as his hands slid down her waist.

"R-Remy?" She whispered nervously.

"Oui?" He rested his forehead against hers, his shaggy hair protecting him from her skin.

"Ah-" She started, but nothing else came out.

"Why don't ya take dance lessons wit' Remy?" He pouted, softly trailing one of his fingers down her cheek.

"Ah-Ah don't..."

''Remy'd really like it. Please." He added for good measure.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before whispering, "Um, ok." She would have said ''yes'' if he'd asked her to make out with a rabid porcupine by that point.

"Promise?" He questioned stroking that sensitive spot she had on her collar bone.

"Ah-Ah guess so, yeah." She murmured wanting to close her eyes at the shiver running down her spine, but not willing to break his eye contact.

He abruptly drew back grinning and saying, "Knew I could make ya' say yes."

She blinked. "Wait, What?" She asked blankly. Then realizing what just happened, she punched Remy in the chest and crossed her arms facing the other direction.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"Aww, ya' ain't mad, are ya'?"

"Ah hate you." Was her response.

"Ya' know ya' don't mean dat." He whispered resting his head on her shoulder.

"Ah do right now." He kissed the side of her head.

She sighed leaning into him. "Oh, fine. maybe Ah don't hate ya' that much..."

He grinned against her before re-placing his chin on her shoulder.

"We can take da evenin' classes. 'Far as I know, ain't no one else signed up for them."

"Fine, LeBeau."

He burrowed his nose in her hair. "Ya' smell good, petite." He exhaled.

"'Least one of us does."

"So cruel, chere."

The rest of the day, Remy followed Rogue around humming and snapping and walking to "the beat", on occasion doing a fancy move.

They walked into the Rec. Room. (This should read: Rogue stalked into the Rec. Room looking surly with a certain humming and dancing Cajun at her heels.) He got right against her ear humming obnoxiously loud as only he would dare do. Quickly, she whipped around and swatted at him, but he ducked backing up and doing the Charleston. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched.

"Remy." Rogue growled.

"Oui?" He asked dancing his way to her. Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and waist and twisted with her in his arms, ending in a theatrical dip.

The others started whooping and cheering but as soon as Rogue sent one of her infamous death glares their way, they immediately silenced.

"Put me down, Remy."

"Ok." He dropped her causing her to let out a small surprised cry. But before she hit the ground he caught her and brought her up again, grinning.

She crossed her arms and left the room.

One week later:

Rogue and Remy were on their way to their first dance lesson. Everyone who had taken the morning class was raving about how fun it was and how easy-going the instructors were. As far as they knew, they were the only two to take the evening class, which helped Rogue stay true to her word. At least Remy and teachers who she'd most likely never see again would be the only ones to witness her lower herself to do something as degrading as to take dance lessons.

"I'm so excited, Roguey!" He exclaimed squeezing her hand and acting like a little kid about to ride a pony.

She sighed wishing to the high heavens she hadn't agreed to take lessons. (this should read: She sighed wishing to high heavens that Remy didn't have the God-awful affect of getting anything he wanted of her merely by standing close and whispering huskily in her ear. But, damn, did it feel good when he did.)

The two entered the Rec. Room which had been cleared so there was plenty of space. Rogue did a double take when she saw who was in there.

"Logan?" She asked increduously. What the hell was he doing here? Didn't he realize this was for dance lessons? Unless...

"Ah, bonsoir, Monssieur Claws." Remy greeted grinning from ear to ear.

Logan blushed, yes, blushed like a school girl who had been asked to a dance by her biggest crush. The deep red reached up to the tip of his ears and stretched down to his neck.

"What're ya' doin' here?" Rogue asked, but between his crimson features and his outfit, it wasn't hard to guess. He was wearing a black hat with the red pom-pom things dangling from the brim, a white shirt with flowing sleeves but a closed cuff and a black satin vest with red trim and tassles. His pants were of the same black satin material, loose and flowing, with a long red sash adorning his waist; black boots completed the outfit. He even had painted a little Spanish mustache above his lip.

By now both Southerners were fighting their very hardest not to burst into laughter, it would have been funny enough to see Logan taking dance lessons, but he was clearly taking it to heart. If tonight was learning Spanish dances, they couldn't wait to see what his costume would be for the sixties style dancing.

Just then, the dance instructors entered, saving Logan from the embarrassment of having to answer that question. "Alright. Tonight we're first going to learn some basic dance steps, then we are going to focus on more specific Spanish dances, as I see, at least one of you is clearly looking forward to."

By the time it was done, Rogue had to admit, (well, not out loud), that she actually had fun. Especially seeing Logan doing the tango. He had the most concentrated look she'd ever seen. Apparently, he must've talked Storm into dancing with him, for she appeared a few minutes after it had begun, apologizing quickly for her tardiness. But to see the two of them doing the tango with passionate faces, making sharp movements-hoo boy, Rogue needed to calm down. Not that Remy helped matters.

"Did ya' see da' look on deir faces? Dey were concentratin' way too hard!" Both burst in a long fit of laughter laying on Rogue's bed. Once they calmed down, she sighed, resting her head on his stomach.

"Did ya' have fun, chere?"

"Yeah... Ah guess so."

''Rogue?''

"Oui?" She asked mimicking him.

"I love you." slipped out from between his lips.

"Ah know." She whispered without thinking. Turning so she was on her stomach and scooching upward so her chin was on his chest, she murmured,

"Ya' know, Swamp Rat?" She began drawing tiny circles on him.

"What?'' His heart beat faster.

"Ah think Ah love ya' too."

"I know." Came his soft reply.

"Rogue?" He mumbled after a long period of comfortable silence.

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait t' see what Logan wears next week. We're video tapin' dat one." Both of their laughter resounded into the peaceful night air through her window.

I know as writer, I shouldn't toot my own horn, but damn, I almost died writing Logan's outfit. I wish I could do a better job describing his dancing, but I couldn't find the right words. This was so much fun to write, it was literally the only good part of the entire story from which it came. I really hope I got out all the bugs, but in the immortal words of Miley Cyrus (who I really despise and will surely deny quoting later):nobody's perfect.

Reviews would be awesome. Ya' know, I did post not one but TWO stories on my second day of vacation and 4th day of illness.

*ahem* I shall now burst into rhyme:

Reviews are like a cup of coffee, freshly brewed.

They make me feel better, and brighten my mood.

you should review after reading this text.

You might want to, or I'll come for you next.

wow, on the spot. I am quite proud. *sniffle* whoa, focus. bye before I ramble anymore (like that's possible)