CHAPTER ONE: RING! RING! RING!

It was three in the morning when Marie picked up the phone.

Half asleep she tried to force it against her ear, pig-tailed hair in the way and gloved fingers awkward. The only light a luminous clock which informed her that yes, it was indeed as God awfully early as she’d thought. She glared down at the phone groggily, eyes adjusting to the darkness while she tried to make out what was being said to her. A female voice which sounded suspiciously like Jubes was yelling tinnily at her, demanding attention, the words nearly impossible to make out over the music in the background-

Which meant that Jubes was probably calling her hammered.

Goody! she thought caustically as she finally put the phone to her ear.

“Chica,” Jubie was yelling, “Chica, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing so talk to me!” Marie swore her friend practiced that tone on others, the one which made you feel like you had to hurry no matter what you did. It even worked on Logan, some of the time. And that there was a Goddamn miracle, she knew. “I’ve got news, boo,” the other woman continued, oblivious to the fact that Rogue had yet to answer her. “Major news-”

“Enough already,” Marie practically growled. “Ah’m listening, now what gives?” And she shot the phone her sternest look, as if Jubilee could see it through the wires. Not the most logical of things to do but hey, it was early and she was still half asleep.

“Y’know, you get more like Wolvie every day, chica,” her friend muttered. Marie could practically see her rolling her eyes at the other end. “And what works for the Wolvster don’t necessarily work for a Southern Belle-”

“It’s three in the morning,” Rogue interrupted before she could launch into what she recognised as a favourite tirade. “Clearly, since you’re usually only evil to people you aren’t BFFs with, you had a reason for calling me. Now what’s up?” And she paused, waiting to find out whatever mischief her friend had gotten into. Because the last time Jubes had called her this late it had involved three players from the Dallas Cowboys and a stolen donkey, and that wasn’t even the weirdest story she knew about.

By a long-shot.

But Jubilee was busy giving a dramatic pause, the kind Marie recognised from countless high school dishing sessions. Clearly, what she was about to be told was of great import. She paused a beat to let the tension mount while Rogue considered hanging up on her and then-

“Kitty and Pete are running off to get married!” she burst out. “And she wants us both to be bridesmaids! How cool is that?”

Marie actually squealed, status as an X-Man be damned.

“Yes!” She practically crowed it, suddenly oblivious to the fact that recovering-from-a-mission superheroes were sleeping all around her. After all, she suspected that once Jubes was through telling her she’d wake everyone else. “So Petey finally manned up and asked her?” she demanded, grinning ear to ear in the darkness. “Knew he would do. Well, thought he would do. But tell me every detail, when, where, was anyone naked-”

Jubes’ delighted giggle thrilled down the line. “He gave her the ring his pop have his mom and everything,” she explained. “Had his Aunt and Uncle bring it out from storage special, made her dinner, bought her roses and then Badda-Bing, badda-boom. Asked her, just like that. Kit’s so pleased I think she’s gonna burst.” Marie had to smile: Kitty Pryde had started dating Pete Parker when she was fifteen, during her first summer at Xavier’s. Everyone in the Mansion had grown to love the nerdy, genial, spider-obsessed Peter, even Logan- Though of course that hadn’t stopped him threatening to make with the gutting, if Parker stepped outta line. Not that he ever had. Ask most of her year who perfect boyfriend was and they’d have said Pete and then dared you to name someone else. But you wouldn’t have been able to. Because Petey clearly adored Kitty and she adored him. He even took her mutation in his stride. They were like a younger, way less annoying version of Scott and Jeannie though without the world-altering superpowers- Or the infuriating ability to make Logan weak at the knees.

Not that Wolvie’s crush bothered Rogue these days, at all.

Not that she even noticed every time he stumbled home at four in the morning with a slender, willowy redhead who made the small, curvy Marie feel ever so slightly like an elephant though she wasn’t the one thundering through Logan’s room. It just wasn’t fair: She was the fittest person on her team! She could outrun Bobby, for Chrissakes! And yet he had to go chasing after the stick-insects, just cuz they reminded him o’ Jeannie-

Marie belatedly remembered there was someone on the other end of the line and brought herself and her rant up short. Because Jubie was still talking a mile a minute, barely stopping to breath. One of her lesser known superpowers, according to Bobby. “So will you tell him?” the other woman was asking.

Oops. She’d missed something in the middle of her little tirade. “Tell who what?”

Again she imagined she could see Jubes’ eye roll over the phone. “You should work on your listening skills, chica,” she muttered. “It’s just an idea.” And Marie had the good grace to look shame-faced at having been caught out. “I asked whether you’d tell Logan.”

Marie frowned. “Doesn’t Kitty want to tell him herself?”

“Well, yeah,”- it came out sounding more like DUH, “but the last time she called him at this hour she just got out that she wasn’t in imminent danger and he hung up the phone. Or maybe threw it at a wall and broke it, I’m not really sure…” Rogue could well believe it; He’d been like a bear with a sore head ever since he returned from his last trip to Japan. Though being Logan he’d grunted and made steady eye-contact with his beer when she’d asked why. It was something to do with that Yukio woman, she was sure of it. Stupid perfect Japanese cat-burglar who had Logan wrapped around her pinkie finger, just like Jeannie used to do- And just like Jeannie she was wrong for him, even Marie could see that. Not that it mattered any: He was nuts about her. Had even stopped picking up the ginger stick-insects when he met her. For maybe the thousandth time Rogue reminded herself forcefully that Wolverine’s love-life was none of her concern and that she should be grateful, because really who wanted someone difficult and growly and a million years older than her anyway? Not her, that was for certain. No matter what all her ex-boyfriends said-

“Okay, okay,” she said when Jubilee paused for breath, “I’ll tell him. But where are they getting hitched? Because I assume he’s gonna wanna be there for his pum’kin’s big day.” And they both laughed. Jubes might be his partner in crime and Marie might be his little sister, but Kitty was his pum’kin and always would be. “I need a location here, Jubie,” she continued, “Because that’s sure as Hell the first thing he’s gonna ask me-”

“Already way ahead of ya,” Lee grinned. “Got the name of the justice of the peace and everything. She’s called- get this- Guadalupe O’Reilly. Has on office on Decator Street, New Orleans-”

And at that moment someone turned the light in her room on.

That someone was Logan. And he looked- surprise, surprise- pissed.

“So the Kitten’s getting hitched,” he growled in his best surly voice. Marie was suddenly grateful he couldn’t see her toes curl underneath her covers at the sound. “Knew that Parker geek was up to something.” And he gestured towards the phone, indicating Marie hand it over. Listened as Jubes filled him in on the news. Marie tried not the notice the heat his body generated as he leaned across her, tried not to notice the fine curl of dark hair she could see at the neck of his tee. Also tried not to notice how tempting touching, nuzzling or licking the back of said neck was right now. She didn’t notice that stuff about him anymore, no indeed she did not; They were friends. Team-mates. Comrades. And she was so busy not noticing the play of muscle and skin on those massive forearms of his that she missed when he hung up the phone and turned to her. Missed his first words too.

“What?” she stammered, looking at him in confusion.

He shot her a look that suggested he was worried about her mental health. “I said,” he explained testily, “That they should look in on an old buddy of mine. Guy I knew in the early days. Ask him to take care of ’em.”

“And this guy is..?” she prompted, sleep and hormones conspiring against her. “Trouble,” Logan muttered. Already looking like he was planning what to pack. “He owns a club in the French Quarter, name o’ Belladonna’s-”

Marie rolled her eyes impatiently. “But what’s his name, Logan?”

Wolverine’s eyes glittered in the darkness. “It’s Remy,” he informed her. “Remy LeBeau. Jubes’ll be waiting at his fer us.” And then he was gone as silently as he came. Leaving the place where he’d leaned over practically burning in his wake. Leaving her hot and bothered and completely unable to get back to sleep-

Not that Marie noticed that any.

Because she was too busy wondering, What kinda dumb-assed name is Remy LeBeau?