Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the X-men. Unless… nope, I've got nothing.

A/N: I did it, I did it! That's right, I finally wrote a fic. About time, eh? I've had countless people hounding me to write something (and by countless I mean three), and since I've got way too much time on my hands over my winter break, I thought I'd actually get on it! So here we are, an early holiday gift. I've been developing this idea for a while, and it's roughly planned out, so here goes nothing. Ta dahh, my first fanfic! Drum roll, please…

February Fifteenth

Chapter One – Three a.m.

Three a.m. is the best time of the day for a thief, mainly because it's the perfect time for a heist. Countless Hollywood movies propagated the fact that midnight was the most common time for criminals to strike, while guards were changing their shifts and not paying attention to skulking figures in black moving past them. For this, Remy LeBeau was thankful.

Midnight was too risky; with guards changing shifts there is a greater amount of them randomly roaming around, therefore increasing the odds of getting caught. Remy had never been caught, a fact he attributed to doing most of his thieving at three a.m. At halfway through a guard's shift, they would already be bored out of their minds and lulled into a false sense of security. They wouldn't be paying half as much attention to the security cameras they were paid to watch as to the time they were counting down until they could go home and crawl into their warm beds. Remy was well aware of this; it was one of the reasons why he was so proficient at what he did. Namely, stealing.

However, he hadn't come to the New Orleans Museum of Art to steal anything tonight. It was February the fifteenth, and he'd come here every year for the past five years. His own little ritual. He silently crept down the hallways by memory, slinking through the shadows until he reached his destination.

'Back again,' he sighed internally. 'Dis won't do y' no good.'

Five years ago, he was here to steal a collection of jewels. It was the first heist that he had planned alone, at the then tender age of thirteen. It was simple enough; he had already been on countless group "appropriations". He had been one of the best thieves in the Guild, and his skills had only improved since then.

He had been a thief as long as he could remember. It had been an essential skill he picked up as a child living on the streets, and it had been further honed when Jean-Luc LeBeau adopted him into the Thieves Guild.

Remy sighed once again. At that moment he thought that his life was finally turning around, and in many ways it had. He was brought up in a luxurious life, with a loving family and friends and practically anything he could want. He loved the Guild, and he loved what he did, but nothing else. And that was the problem.

Amour. Love. Such a tiny word. How could it possibly bring so many complications into his life? He hadn't even thought about it until five years ago, on Valentine's Day. He loathed that day. He never used to. On the streets it had always been a fun day, where he would make off with hundreds of dollars from the wallets of men rushing to buy their wives (and mistresses) romantic gifts and tokens of affection. But five years ago, he was told what his future would hold. He was to be married.

Normally, that wouldn't have bothered him. He may have been young, but he grew up on the streets, and that had aged him fast. The supernatural city had instilled in him a sense of mysticism, and believed in magic, voodoo, and things that could simply not be explained. He had seen couples walk hand in hand down the streets, whispering how they were soul mates. Remy wanted that. Love, pure and simple.

'Guess Remy be selfish,' he thought to himself. 'But Remy never got no love on de streets, why can' he have some now?'

That was what bothered him. He wouldn't have that chance, because of his arranged marriage. He was to wed Belladonna Boudreaux, the only daughter of the head of the Assassins Guild. She was beautiful, no doubt about that. But he didn't love her. He tried, he forced himself to love her, but he couldn't do it. Not that it mattered; he would have to marry her, to ensure peace between the warring Guilds. Belle was happy about the situation; for some insane reason she loved him, and believed that he loved her back.

'Guess Remy's a better actor den he t'ought, neh?' he mentally chuckled, yet wholly without humour. He knew he would have to marry her, so he tried to make the best out of the situation. He treated Belle like a queen, but it was just a mask. It had gotten so easy to wear that he almost forgot it was all an act. And yet a part of him never did, which is why he returned to this spot every year.

He shouldn't be here, and he knew it. Valentine's Day was over, and he'd spent it pampering Belle, and agreeing with all her ideas for their wedding. She had taken it upon herself to plan it, since she wanted the perfect fairytale wedding she had dreamt about since she was a little girl. Remy couldn't care less whether they had cream coloured napkins or tulip centrepieces, so he just went along with whatever she suggested.

One year. That was it. They would be married in exactly one year, on Valentine's Day.

'Could it be any more clichéd? One mo' reason for Remy t' hate de damned day. But t'is kinda funny dat I be gettin' married and pledgin' fake love on de day made for de truer version.'

Remy was sure there was some sort of irony present in all of this, but didn't want to dwell on it. He hated it when his life was analyzed, and he hated it even more when he did it to himself. All he knew was that in one year he would be spending his wedding night with a woman he didn't love; all the more reason to come here tonight.

Shaking his head to clear himself of the unpleasant thoughts, he returned to the present. He stood staring at the very same collection of jewels he was supposed to steal five years ago. They were beautiful, a large display for almost every gemstone imaginable. Remy practically had them memorized, since his last four visits consisted of him staring at them until a guard walked by on his patrol. He never took them, there was no point. He was supposed to do so on the night of the heist, but it didn't go as planned. He had made it inside alright, but the moment he was about to take them, he was distracted by the pair of emeralds. No, more like mesmerized. He stared at them for so long that he hardly noticed that a guard was approaching until it was almost too late.

Getting out of there had been no problem; Remy never got caught. The problem was the missed opportunity. He had a chance, and he didn't take it; the little voice in his head reminded him of it every day, taunting him. Those emeralds danced in his mind's eye every night, teasing him. That was why he returned here every year; he had hope. Some small semblance of hope that he could recapture his lost chance, and change things for the better. It was stupid and foolish, and he knew it. He wouldn't get the chance again, but still he came back and hoped for it.

This would be his last visit. That tiny sliver of hope dwindled with each passing day, and by his wedding day it would be gone, because there would be nothing left he could do to prevent it. Still, he couldn't stop himself from hoping that something might change.

'Who knows? Dis Cajun's always had Lady Luck on 'is side, maybe she'll help Remy out some mo'.'

Well, that's it! How was it? With any luck, I've gotten you all curious. And hey, to add to that, why don't I drop a little teaser? Next chapter, the wedding gets closer and the Guild calls for some help! Dun dun duhh.

So, now that that's out of the way, you know what time it is. Review time! Come on, review, pretty please? The power of the fic COMPELLS you! Bwa ha ha ha ha! Umm… yeah, sorry about that. I get carried away sometimes. Anyhoo, the point is that I really hope you review. Especially if I've reviewed your fic before! Yeah, I thought I'd throw in a tiny guilt-trip there.

But seriously. I need feedback, hopefully of the positive variety! I'm not sure how this went, so it'd be great to hear some input. And please, if you've got something bad to say, say it in a good, happy, constructive way! Or else it'll just crush my fragile ego.

So, thanks for reading. The next chapter should be up in less than a week. Hopefully. I'll try my darndest. I'm sure I'll write faster if I get reviews! Huzzah. And happy holidays!

Kisses,

ish