LeBeau, she said. Of course she did. Was a dream he had, once upon a time, coming true for someone else worth the amount of pain he read in her eyes? Meeting alternate versions of yourself was always strange, always disorienting in a way, and this was no different. Was it really better of the world around you was in flames? The X-Men of the world Apocalypse ruled would say no, the Rogue there would say no.

So would he. He smiled, more friendly than flirtatious, though there was always hint of it underneath, he'd never been able to shake that, and took her hand.

"Remy leBeau. De pleasure's mine."