Shall We Dance

By Jennie

Pairing: Remy/Logan

Notes: Once upon a time, there was a challenge on x-fiction - use a song from a musical in a fic... I, being old and slow and decrepit, have only now managed to write something. It doesn't meet any word count requirements - I just couldn't shut 'em up.

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a challenge on x-fiction - use a song from a musical in a fic... I, being old and slow and decrepit, have only now managed to write something. It doesn't meet any word count requirements - I just couldn't shut 'em up.

Shall We Dance

By Jennie

***

Da-dum-dum-dum//

Remy froze in the foyer, having just entered the mansion.

Surely he hadn't imbibed *that* much alcohol tonight... Hadn't taken any drugs recently either.

Which meant-

that he must be hallucinating.

Except, the open-mouthed amazement on Scott and Bobby's faces indicated that they, too, heard the enthusiastic, if dreadful singing. Both appeared to be every bit as horrified as Remy was by the off-key, tuneless music emanating from the parlor.

da-dum-dum-dum//

Remy wondered if this might be an auditory hallucination - a *shared* auditory hallucination.

The situation became even more frightening as disturbingly loud and clumsy noises came from the parlor. Someone - the singer Remy refused to identify - was...

Dancing.

The idea made him dizzy. Fainting became a distinct possibility.

Jean and 'Ro appeared from the kitchen. Welcoming the distraction, Remy smiled - well, actually it was more of a pained grimace - at them.

"He has a snootful tonight," Jean stated with remarkable calm.

"Indeed," 'Ro agreed. "Our friend is quite inebriated."

The two exchanged a look and started laughing.

Upon realizing that Logan's atypical behavior came as no surprise to the women, Remy reconsidered the fainting thing.

"Hey!" an offended voice shouted. "Shaddup out there. 'M *tryin'* ta watch this movie!"

Scott's eyebrows migrated up his forehead. "That," he said weakly. "That's..."

"Logan," Bobby finished. Before the word was out of his mouth, he fell to the floor, giggling madly.

"Dammit!" Logan bitched loudly. "Ya heathens jest don't 'preciate classic musicals."

The sound of the movie ceased abruptly. Moments later, Logan staggered out of the parlor, a videotape clutched in one hand. Squinting, he blearily studied the group gathered in the hallway. His eyes focused on Remy.

"You! Cajun," he growled.

After several unsuccessful attempts, Remy finally found his voice. "Oui?"

"Ya got a TV in yer room, right?"

"Yes, I do," he answered with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

"An' a VCR?"

Remy gulped and nodded. No point in lying, Logan could always smell deceit.

"Great!" Without further ado, Logan grabbed him by one arm and headed for the stairs.

Which their audience found vastly amusing.

"Logan-"

"Ya ever seen 'The King and I', kid?"

"Ah... non."

"'S my favorite musical. Yer in fer a real treat, Remy."

Choosing to ignore the gales of laughter coming from his teammates, Remy shrugged helplessly, gave in to the inevitable, and allowed Logan to drag him upstairs.

"Tomorrow," Logan promised, "we'll watch Gigi."

Wincing at the very thought, Remy prayed to every god he could think of that Logan would forget the whole thing once he sobered up.

END