Summary: Sequel to Sickly Rogue, Annoying Cajun. This time Remy gets sick and Rogue willfully volunteers to take care of him. Humor/Romance ROMY!
Disclaimer: I own no Marvel Characters, simple huh?
As soon as Rogue entered the room she was grabbed around the wrist and whirled into the bed. She knew exactly who it was as she heard a metal clinking and then she couldn't move whatsoever. Marie had realized that he'd planned this.
"S'nice o' y' t' drop in chere. Well at leas' Remy t'inks so." He grinned and cleared his throat. "Now y' don' go 'way while Remy gets him some t'ings from downstairs, oui?"
"Remy! Ah'll..." She then burst out laughing because he had started to tickle her sides.
"Y'll wut chere?" He asked with a chuckle. "Soun's like y' enjoyin' yo'self t' dis Cajun."
"Why shoul' Remy let y' go? Y' been a bad femme." Gambit smirked at her. "Dis be yo' punishment. Don' t'ink dat Remy gon' hol' back d' y'?"
"Cajun!" Rogue growled.
"Growlin'? Hope y' know dat it turn Remy on." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Remy be righ' back."
"Oh no yah don'!"
"Oh yes I do." He leered and ticked her once more before he left the room.
"Ohhhhh! When Ah get mah hands on thaht no good swamp rat!" She screamed.
Down the hall Remy heard her outburst and just grinned devilishly to himself. He figured he'd leave her there for about an hour before he came back up to finish his plan...but then again he thought he'd drop the plan and do something else entirely. After a few moments he decided he'd just sit downstairs and then release her later in the day.
Upstairs Rogue was fuming. She'd been their for over an hour trying to re-locate shadowcat's powers so she could get herself out of this mess. but then the door opened. "Time fo' y' real punishment chere."
"Just because yer startin' ta feel betta don' mean yah can take it out on meh." She growled.
"Remy's not takin' anyt'ing out on y'. Remy jus' wan's a little pay back." He stated tickling her side. And smudging ice cream on her cheek. "I'm goin' t' make mon Roguey into a sundae."
Later that night Rogue had finally cooled down after shoving his head into the bathtub, and they were sitting out side on the porch swing looking at the stars. "Remy be grateful dat y' were takin' care o' him chere. Wouldn' trus' no one else."
She rolled her eyes. "Righ' Ah'm jus' lucky."
"Glad dat y' t'ink s'." He kissed her. "Remy's sleepy, bed time?"
"Our own beds Cajun."
"Y' woun' moi chere."