I'm taking a little break from my work revolving around my fic Story Time With Remy LeBeau (if you haven't read it, you totally should) to give you this. I just need a little time off from that story. So this is something I typed up to unclog my mind. It might not be the best but it was helpful for me. So enjoy. And, if you like, you could review too.

His Tante Mattie always gave the best advice.

She told Remy LeBeau everything he ever needed to know. Whether or not he actually listened to her was not the point. What matters is that she said it.

"Remy LeBeau, I don' care if you steal da damn Eifel Tower. You steal until yo' fingers fall off. But don' you dare steal from someone who can't afford bein' stolen from. If I find out you stealin' from someone less fortunate, so help me God boy, I'll skin you alive."

"Remy LeBeau, I don' care if the damn secret service is after you, if you pass a lady, you stop and excuse yo'self. And if I ever find out you didn' hold a door open for a lady, so help me God boy, I'll skin alive."

"Remy LeBeau, I don' care if you got damn horns poppin' out yo' head and tail swingin' from your behind. Don' let nobody tell you that yo' less than because of yo' eyes. You ain't the devil. You a pain in my old ass but you ain't the devil. You got a good heart. You can't let people bring you down. You gotta be tough. I know you can do it. I know you strong. And if I ever find you lettin' some idiots hurt yo' feelings again, so help me God boy, I'll skin you alive."

"Remy LeBeau, I don' care if you are one of the best damn t'ieves in the world. You in my house. And in my house, if I ask you to do somethin', you are goin' to do it. And you goin' to do it wit'out complaint. You respect your elders. All of them. Not just me. And if I ever find yo' feet on my coffee table ever again, so help me God boy, I'll skin you alive."

"Remy LeBeau, I know that you ain't in the most wholesome of businesses. Now, I ain't judgin' you and I ain't askin' questions. But you ever catch yo'self in a pinch, dump the bodies in ol' Blood Moon Bayou. The gators will take care of the evidence for you. But if you ever track blood on my clean floors, so help me God boy, I'll skin you alive."

Yes, Tante always had the best advice.

All of her advice was worth listening to. After years of being threatened to be skinned alive, Remy had taken to listening to her. He never stole from the less fortunate. He was always respectful to women, he was confident in himself, he listened to his elders, and he knew where to dump the evidence.

Tante Mattie had instilled some morals in her lying, stealing little red-eyed thief.

He remembered some of the best advice she had ever given. It was immediately after she had caught him in a passionate embrace with a young Miss Belladonna. Tante chased the girl out the room before casting her critical eyes on her nephew, who blushed furiously. She drew in a deep breath.

"Now, Remy," she began quietly, "I'm not stupid. I know you a growin' boy. And I know Bella is a growin' girl. Jus' because I t'ink you can do better than that blonde fille don' mean I'm goin' to yell at you for what you two were doin'. You goin' to do it behind my back if I do. There ain't no stoppin' two idiotic teenagers on a hormone rush."

She leveled her gaze with his.

"But I got dis much to say and I won' say no more: don' you dare do it in my house and always use protection. If you walk in my house talkin' about how you done knocked some girl up, so help me God boy, I will skin you alive."

When Remy LeBeau realized what a lady's man he was, Remy LeBeau realized that Tante Marie's advice to use protection was some of the best advice he had ever received. And because he had no desire to be skinned alive, he never did "it" in her house.

Wherever Remy went or who he was with, he was protected. He decided that Tante's advice could be applied to more aspects in his life besides just "it."

Remy LeBeau was always protected. Why else would he wear that odd head gear whenever he was in uniform?

If he was zooming down the road at a hundred miles per hour, he at least wore a helmet. He didn't want to crash, crack open his skull, and get blood all over his pretty face.

If ever he got caught up in a heist that went wrong (a rare occurrence) he had a solid, completely fake alibi to explain where he was at the time of the crime which he committed. He didn't want to get sent to prison and end up wearing those ugly orange uniforms. Remy LeBeau did not look good in orange.

If he was ever in the middle of a fight (a very frequent occurrence), he made sure that just in case something went wrong with his first deck of cards, he had two others on his person and a bow staff. He didn't want to be forced to charge the chewing gum in his mouth and spit it at the enemy like he did that one time. He liked his Juicy Fruit and was none too happy about having to spit it out while it still had its flavor.

Remy LeBeau was always protected. It didn't matter what he was doing.

Tante would be proud.

Remy thought he had figured out every way he could possibly cover his ass. But then he met Rogue and she threw off everything he had come to learn. Rogue was good for that. Throwing him off, that is.

If Remy LeBeau weren't such a difficult person, being protected around Rogue wouldn't be that hard. Don't touch her. Don't go near her. Stay away from her overprotective brother and the pseudo father with claws.

Easy as that.

But Remy LeBeau was a difficult person so he didn't do any of that stuff. Instead, he took one too many steps in the wrong direction and did the exact opposite. He wasn't being safe. He wasn't being protected. When it came to Rogue, Remy LeBeau was courting danger.

But really, if he could choose how he would die, death via pissing Rogue off would probably be the most entertaining, fulfilling ways he could go.

He joined the X-Men with pure intentions. He had been doing idiotic things with his life lately (almost marrying Belladonna, almost being killed by two furious guilds when he didn't marry Belladonna, that insane red head he had a brief relationship with when he was in Virginia, and that stint with being a terrorist) and it was time for a change. The life he was leading wasn't getting him anywhere good and he needed to protect his future.

So he joined the X-Men.

He thought that from there he would (almost) always be on his best behavior, follow Tante Mattie's rules, and have as few problems as possible. But on his first day at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, he passed by the girl with the white streaks in her hair while touring his new home.

When he saw her, he remembered their trip to Louisiana and how despite the part where he lied and used her, they had a rather nice time together. And he remembered how pretty she was when the bayou had washed away her make up. And he remembered how he had given her his lucky card as a going away present. And he remembered how she had been occupying his thoughts more and more lately. And he remembered how much he liked her. And he remembered how much he liked seeing her angry.

Remy also remembered the angry blue fuzzy one and even angrier one with the claws. But Remy had already thrown caution to the wind. He saw no need to start worrying about those two at that point.

Tante would be disappointed.

But he couldn't help himself. Rogue just drew him in. With her biting remarks, withering glares, temptingly untouchable skin, and general Gothiness, there was no way Remy would be able to resist her wiles.

He was certain that with the right smile and a well-placed wink, Rogue would not be able to resist his charms either.

But Remy LeBeau was wrong.

The first time he made his feelings for Rogue known, she looked him dead in the eyes and said with all the ferocity in the world:

"Bite me."

To which he replied:

"Don't tempt me."

That got him a kick to the shin.

But, among other things, Remy LeBeau was persistent. So he tried again. Only this time, he took a more…graphic approach to describing how he felt about Rogue. Her jaw damn near dropped to the floor in shock at what he was describing to her. When he was done, Rogue clamped her mouth shut and punched him in the stomach.

He didn't know why. What was so wrong with letting her know in vivid detail how he wanted her both emotionally and physically? Truly, he did not understand the girl.

Not that was going to stop him or anything.

Each one of his attempts, however, were not met with adoration and love. They were met with increasingly worse physical violence. He had been pinched, punched, kicked, shoved, slapped, and hit in a place that left him on the floor struggling for air for a good two minutes.

Yes, indeed. Tante would be very disappointed in him.

Remy pushed forward anyway.

He knew nothing good could come of messing with Rogue. Because even if she let him within two feet of her and didn't do him some bodily harm, it's not like he could safely touch her, what with her poison skin and whatnot.

Not that he cared.

You see, Remy LeBeau was in love. It was as simple as that. And even if it went against everything he was taught, he was going to court danger and court Rogue until she was his. And there was no denying there was some sort of connection between them.

Well…she denied but that was because she was silly.

But he had a long way to go before Rogue truly let him in. Which was fine. Even though it would probably mean that at some point he would acquire a few broken bones in the process, he was willing to take whatever she dealt him.


If he was going to go against everything he taught and lived by, Remy LeBeau was still going to try to protect himself in even the smallest ways he could manage. But protection with Rogue was going to be a little different than his previous experience with girls.

Remy LeBeau would have to invest in some knee pads. And a helmet. And maybe a cup, just to be safe.

Tante, wherever she was, would be incredibly disappointed in her lying, stealing, red-eyed thief.

The things he did for love….