Disclaimer: They're Marvel's. Not making any money from this. But you already knew that. Right? Actually, I feel I should be paid for this advertising. Unfortunately, I'm not, so I'm still a poor college student, and suing me will only get a bunch of lawyers involved, and who wants that? (This from the person who's favourite show that's still making new episodes is "Law and Order: Special Victim's Unit.")

Okay, so I should be writing a paper or doing research on the Salem witch trials or even working on my X-Files fic, but I've watched too much TV tonight and I'm listening to mp3s, and the muses are coming, and when they come, you just can't stop it. Anyway, on with what you really want:

Untitled (so far)

Chapter One: A Very Lucky Man

Remy rolled onto his side and lay in the dark room next to his wife, gazing at her longingly as their breathing returned to a normal rate. He loved the way she seemed to glow after two – no, wait, three – orgasms. Who needs an aphrodisiac when you got her moaning?

Rogue lazily turned to face him. She smiled. It was that little after sex smile of hers that was enough to turn him on to get geared up for a fourth time around and he grinned mischievously back at her. She snickered as he reached out for her and began to littler kisses on her neck.

GOD, he loved the feel of her skin. Like a cross between silk and suede. It was incredible. Just as he was about to make sure that it all still felt the same as the last time he made love to her (two minutes ago), a small cry erupted from the walkie-talkie-like device set up on the bed stand on Rogue's side.

"Oh!" Rogue complained. "Two already?"

"Well, you know what they say, chere? Time flies by fast when you're havin' fun, non?"

"Yeah, you just keep flatterin' yo' self, sugah," Rogue retorted. She had tried to sound sarcastic, but the smile still plastered on her face gave her away.

Remy looked at the clock next to the bed.

"Actually, it's one fourty-five."

"Uh, she's early."

"You wan' me to take care o' it, coeur?"

"No, it's mah turn," she replied, her voice devoid of any humor this time. "'Sides, if I don't empty these things, I'm afraid they'll burst any second," she said nodding toward her chest as she rolled out of bed and pulled on her nightshirt that had been discarded hours ago. Remy meanwhile tried to bite back the dirty comment she knew was at the tip of tongue.

Remy lay there on his back while Rogue was in the adjacent room, marveling at his life as he waited for her. He was a very lucky man. Yes, it had been so rough for such a long time, but even he sometimes couldn't believe how far he'd come in the past few years.

Three years ago, Rogue and Remy had decided they needed serious help if they were going to make their relationship work. The professor was happy to recommend a colleague of his who specialized in couples counseling. It was hard at first, but it turned out to be one of the most liberating experiences of Remy's life. Rogue's, too. Little by little, they began to open up to each other, as they never had opened up to anyone else before. Much to their delight, by opening up to one another, Rogue also managed to get her powers under control in the process.

Two years ago, he had proposed to her. Asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. And she had accepted.

A year-and-a-half ago, they were hitched. It was funny. There had been a time in his life when he had laughed at the guys who had settled down with one woman. Believed them to be weak to have allowed a woman to wrap them around her finger. Believed that they were not – could not – truly be happy in such a state. Believed that a part of them – a part of him – would die in giving up such freedom. Until it actually happened to him. And he couldn't be happier at the thought of spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved. His soulmate. His "other half." He was hers, utterly and completely. Course, it went both ways.

Remy checked the clock. Reminiscing had been nice, but Rogue was taking too long. He rose from the bed, pulled on a pair of boxers and headed into the room Rogue had disappeared into quite some time before.

"Chere? Everyt'ing o- " but he stopped himself short.

About eight months ago, Rogue had announced she was pregnant.

Two months before, their first child had been born.

Now, Rogue was asleep on the rocking chair, head tilted back leaning against the back of the chair, causing her to snore ever so lightly. Her nightshirt hung open to reveal a bare breast, little Marie Scarlett LeBeau still in her arms, also asleep.

Remy scooped Marie into one arm, and with the other, he very gentlemanly-like buttoned the top buttons on Rogue's nightshirt with his free hand. He carried Marie into their room and laid her gently down in the center of the book bed. Remy then returned to Marie's nursery to retrieve Rogue and laid her down on "her" side of the bed. He then lay down on his own side, facing the two ladies, and pulled the covers over the three of them.

He gazed lovingly at the two people that meant more to him than anything else in the world. His family. Yes, he was a very lucky man.